Shocked by the sudden vision, Revan recoiled from the blonde boy, staring at him through the visor of his mask. The Jedi's keen hearing picked up the barely discernible hum of HK's personal shield, which had activated, ready to repel any threat to his Master.
"Are you alright, Mister?" the boy asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
There was no sense of the Dark Side emanating from him, and the worry in his voice was sincere. The dissonance between the image of the terrifying Dark Lord in the heavy black armor from the vision, which for some reason had been firmly associated with this boy, left the Jedi stunned.
'What in the name of the Force was that?' he asked himself mentally.
The vision was incredibly vivid and clear, suggesting a near-certain predestination. Or was it all due to the strange aura surrounding the child? And was it even him in the vision? Perhaps it was someone important to him... or someone who would become important... in the future.
The initial, almost instinctive decision to strike the boy down immediately and eliminate a potential threat was dismissed. Something subtle influenced the Jedi's thoughts, as if the Force itself did not wish the child to be harmed.
Revan cursed inwardly. Even he, who had known both sides, would never fully comprehend the Force. Its constant hints, visions, "coincidences," and other contortions annoyed him beyond measure.
And now, here he was, having "accidentally" ended up in a shop where a potentially very powerful Force-sensitive was sitting in the back room, one that had clearly been missed by the Jedi Order's seekers. Or had the Council stopped even looking for Younglings? After all, somehow the number of enclaves in the galaxy had been reduced to a single Temple on Coruscant. At least, that's what the HoloNet claimed.
'Still, I need to get to the Temple and converse with the Great Holocron... if the Jedi haven't, ahem, lost even that relic,' the former Sith Lord's musings were interrupted by the boy, who approached again and tugged at his cloak.
"Mister?"
"Yes, I'm fine," Revan composed himself. "Lead the way."
The boy walked ahead, showing the path through a narrow corridor lined with shelves and tables stacked with parts and half-disassembled mechanisms. The Jedi gestured for his droid to follow them.
The warehouse, it turned out, occupied a large basement room, reminiscent of Volo's shop. And everything imaginable truly was here.
HK: "Pleased Observation: Master, I am almost happy," HK-47 rasped.
"Hold on, friend, first we'll find the necessary parts and patch you up, then you can be happy," Revan chuckled, keeping an eye on the boy.
The young boy, meanwhile, was examining the droid with interest.
"I've never seen anything like him!" he declared excitedly. "What series is he from? Protocol? Who's the manufacturer? Industrial Automaton? Droidtech? Inteltron?"
The boy peppered him with questions, radiating such vibrant interest and genuine delight that it struck a subconscious chord in the former Jedi's soul. For once, the great Revan himself had rushed just like this boy around new technology, eager to learn more about it.
"This is HK-47," the former Sith Lord said, approaching his droid. "He's, you could say, my personal assistant with expanded functionality."
HK: "Proud Correction: With numerous and highly diverse functions," the subject of the conversation corrected.
"Yes, yes, whatever you say," Revan patted the metal chest plate. "I built him myself on the chassis of an old protocol droid. Although nothing but the structural frame remains of that original. Everything else is scavenged from droids of various series."
"Cool," the boy breathed, awestruck. "I built my own droid, too... well, almost finished. There's still a lot to do, but he's working."
"Wow! You're quite talented," the Jedi praised the child. "You must have a real gift!"
"Thanks... but it's nothing special," the boy looked down, blushing shyly. "I just kind of feel what's wrong with a part, and... I know where it ought to go."
A realization flashed through Revan's mind: this child was unconsciously using the Force. It was astonishing. Untrained, and at such a young age... He needed to keep an eye on him.
"I'm Anakin, by the way," the boy offered his hand. "Anakin Skywalker. You can just call me Ani."
"Vaner Shan," the man replied, shaking his hand carefully, wary of another burst of images.
However, no visions came.
"So, what do you need for the droid?" the young mechanic inquired. "He seems fine, everything's in place."
"I'll need some tools to clean up his chassis. He hasn't had, shall we say, a maintenance check in a while," Revan twisted his wrist in the air. "Also, it's time to replace the optical sensors, the vocabulizer, the main reactor, the fuel cell matrix, and a couple of other internal nodes. Oh, and it would be good to replace the joint servomotors with more modern, ball-joint types."
Anakin stared at him, grasping the scope of the planned overhaul.
"He even has his own reactor in there?" the boy asked, finding his voice again.
"Yes, a small one, from an old military model."
The boy examined the droid again, whose dimensions were practically the same as a human body. Military-grade micro-reactors were extremely expensive. He hadn't been able to get one for his own protocol droid, which he was secretly building at home, hidden from Watto.
"We don't have reactors," Ani said regretfully. "Jabba bought the last ones six months ago."
"No problem," Revan shrugged. "Do you have any universal fuel based on second-order isotopes?"
"I think so."
"Then everything's fine. We can just replace the fuel cell. The control circuit isn't damaged," the Jedi nodded contentedly. "How about the rest?"
The boy scurried around the warehouse, gathering parts that were then rejected by both Revan and HK. The droid was impossibly finicky. Parts were dismissed for insufficient functionality, micro-damage, scratches, low performance characteristics, and other conditions known only to the assassin droid himself.
They managed to select a pair of excellent military-grade sensors, along with almost-new servomotors. The vocabulizer was salvaged from a decommissioned C-1 series protocol droid that had been lying in the shop for Sith-knows-how-long. They even found a brand-new targeting card from an automated turret, which HK clung to with a death grip, demanding it be purchased. Or rather, first demanding, then asking, and then practically pleading. And when Revan started to feel sick from the droid's fawning tone and the excessive amount of "Master-Master-Master," he finally gave in. HK would find the programming part on the HoloNet himself.
The Jedi left the shop nearly three hours later, having parted with almost 15,000 credits.
Regarding Watto and his attempt at blackmail, Revan decided to play along. He and the Toydarian agreed that the man would think everything over and return in three days, since he couldn't leave the planet anyway. The alien reluctantly agreed. Apparently, the sum he expected to extort from the Jedi was much greater than what Jabba had promised him.
Repairing HK-47 didn't take much time, as the design was initially meant to accommodate modules from various manufacturers, so the only fuss was with contacts and connectors.
It was difficult to convince the droid to power down to replace several internal systems and install the new targeting system. Hardly back to his robotic life, HK flatly refused to lose consciousness again, even temporarily. Only a direct order from his Master had any effect.
Much more time was spent cleaning the chassis and main nodes of grime, oxidation products, and other traces of time.
The next day, the droid was gleaming in his reddish-brown armor, which had a faint shimmer of cortosis weave. The creak in his joints vanished, making HK practically silent again, and the new servomotors made him even more dangerous and effective in combat.
The flamethrower built into his left arm had to be abandoned as it had become useless over the millennia. However, the ion blaster was perfectly fine, which HK demonstrated by short-circuiting the door control console in the hotel room where the repairs were being conducted.
Revan wasn't worried about the mess caused by the droid's technical maintenance. He would be able to come to an arrangement with the hotel owner... one way or another.
His thoughts, meanwhile, were occupied with the vision of the Dark Lord that had visited the reborn adept of light and darkness when Anakin first touched him. Its meaning, however, still remained hidden. Revan understood that it was something connected to the boy... and most likely, something that was yet to come.
An attempt at deep meditation to understand what had happened ended in failure. Instead of the silhouette in black armor, Tython appeared before his eyes. Then the Jedi Temple and the dark aura of the Star Forge. It was as if the Force itself shoved him back into reality, insistently advising him not to waste time.
Nevertheless, the boy deserved attention, and Revan planned to look after him.
The question of Watto and his blackmail remained. Running from the Hutts across the entire desert was not the most pleasant prospect. He could permanently silence the junk dealer, but that would draw unnecessary attention. As HK-47 politely noted, the sign on the Toydarian's shop displayed the symbol of a bandit clan under Hutt control. That meant if the winged merchant was eliminated, the local thugs would immediately know about it and wouldn't be pleased. No one wants to lose a source of protection money. And from there, rumors would reach Jabba. And that slug would quickly put two and two together. The hunt for the brazen thief who stole the transport with the Beskar cargo would begin anew.
There was also the option of sharing the cargo with Watto himself, but that was reserved as a last resort. Almost in the same place where the idea of simply slicing off the Toydarian's head with a lightsaber patiently waited its turn.
HK: "Situation Analysis: Master, I have observed that you have encountered a problem with the impudent winged meatbag who dared to threaten you," the droid spoke up when Revan wearily sighed once more.
"That's right, HK," the Jedi agreed. "He's protected, and engaging them now would be dangerous for us."
HK: "Displaying Awareness: Master, I have discovered that the symbol on the merchant's shop belongs to the local bandit clan, the Blood Claws. Their number is only about a hundred sentients of various species. Their leader is a Human named Ticho Dorma."
The former Sith Lord pondered this. The droid mentioned the clan's relatively small size even by Mos Espa standards for a reason. Another acceptable solution was emerging.
"Are you suggesting what I think you are?" the Jedi raised an eyebrow expressively.
HK: "Conspiratorially: Oh, yes, Master," HK-47 purred.
Six hours later.
The Commercial District.
The Blood Claws Clan Hideout.
A man in a cloak with a deep hood and a harmless-looking protocol droid confidently walked toward the entrance of the cantina where, according to rumors, one of the local criminal clans was housed.
The bartender's mind proved quite pliable, and the old Rodian revealed everything he knew about the leader of the thugs and their hidden base.
"Excellent." Revan touched the bartender with the Force, causing him to fall asleep.
HK: "Warning: Master, there is a guard posted near the secret door indicated by this meatbag," HK spoke quietly through his vocoder.
"No killing without my command. We don't need unnecessary traces."
HK: "Readily: Acknowledged, Master."
The Jedi's plan was quite simple. Infiltrate the clan's lair and make their leader an offer he couldn't refuse: namely, to work for him. Covertly, of course, hidden from the Hutts.
The complication was that as few people as possible should know about the change in leadership. Therefore, they couldn't leave any tracks.
Revan unhurriedly went behind the bar counter and into the back rooms, as if it were a routine matter. The guards the droid mentioned near the secret passage were nowhere to be found. However, a moment later, the Jedi sensed two sentients on the other side of the door.
HK-47 dashed forward as soon as the door opened wide enough. With a swift movement, he struck one guard with an elbow to the temple and, the next moment, brought his armored fist down on the head of the second.
"Hutt-blast it, HK!" Revan whispered, annoyed. "I gave an order."
HK: "Embarrassedly: I did not kill them," the droid mumbled like an offended child.
A black glove knocked softly against the Mandalorian mask's T-visor. Sometimes Revan forgot that he himself had programmed the traits of initiative, drive to action, and moderate aggression into the behavioral matrix of his creation.
"Moderately aggressive, indeed," thought the creator of the galaxy's finest hunter-assassin. "I just didn't factor in that the poor dear would get bored without action for four thousand years."
Taking a couple of breaths, the Jedi gestured for them to move on.
The Force helped the pair of infiltrators move deeper into the thieves' and murderers' lair, bypassing the sparse patrols and guard posts. The hideout was larger than the former Sith Lord had anticipated: three underground levels, a decent armory, living quarters, and a mess hall.
"A genuine fortified base," Revan observed, appreciating the scale.
HK: "Assessing: An insufficient number of stationary turrets," the droid added. "Imperial bases were designed more effectively."
"Ah, everything was more effective back then," shook his head the one who had commanded his own empire millennia ago.
A lone Blood Claws fighter who decided to wander the empty corridors was swiftly captured by the infiltrators and used to find out exactly where the clan leader was holed up on the base. Getting to him was surprisingly easy. Revan couldn't help but think that even criminals in this "new world" had grown too complacent.
"Good day, gentlemen thugs, murderers, thieves, and scoundrels of all stripes," the former Sith Lord greeted the leader of the criminal clan and his six personal guards, who had set up something like an ambush in Ticho Dorma's private quarters. Though calling it an ambush was a stretch. Seven against a Jedi and an assassin droid? It wasn't even serious.
Dorma turned out to be quite young. Revan would have put him at around twenty-five. And considering that people on Tatooine often look older than their age, the young man could have been a teenager. But since he managed to lead an entire clan that had also received the Hutts' blessing for its existence, the boy must have a good head on his shoulders. And not an empty one.
"And who is this brave soul who has come straight into the lair of my boys?" the crime boss's voice, deep for his age, boomed out.
"Call me... hmm... Lord," Revan smirked under his mask. "And I'm here with an offer you can't refuse."
HK tightened his grip on the blasters he had already pulled from his hidden compartments, hearing his Master's key phrase.
"Oh really?" Dorma grinned. "And what might that offer be?"
"Work for me. Unofficially, of course," the Jedi crossed his arms over his chest.
HK's targeting systems had already locked onto the targets.
The Claw leader laughed, slapping his hand on the table.
"You've got jokes!" he choked out through his laughter. "Work? For you?"
"Yes," the former Sith Lord nodded calmly.
"Heh, for that joke, you'll die quickly," the self-satisfied leader leaned back in his chair. "Kill him."
"HK, gently," Revan whispered, moving behind the droid.
The assassin droid sharply raised both arms, clutching Mandalorian blasters, and in six precise shots, disarmed the leader's guards. No one managed to return fire as the fighters were slammed into the walls by a Force Push wave. The startled clan leader had carelessly kept his hands impossibly far from his holster when an invisible hand clenched around his throat.
"Listen to me carefully," Revan stated loudly, pulling Ticho Dorma toward him and forcing him to his knees. "From this moment on, my commands are sacred law to you, and I wouldn't advise even attempting to violate them. You will continue to pretend to serve the Hutts, but your true master will be me. Do you understand?"
Dorma, gasping for air and helplessly scratching at his throat with his fingers, nodded convulsively.
The former Sith Lord stopped strangling the captive and tossed a communicator at his feet.
"My contacts are on here. That way you can reach me if necessary."
The Claw leader nodded.
"And most importantly," Revan moved in close to Dorma, "don't even try to betray me."
The captive frowned, but nodded.
"Unconvincing," Revan shook his head. "Apparently, you simply don't understand who you're dealing with."
"It's... you... cough... who doesn't understand," the clan leader rasped.
"Oh, I understand perfectly," the former Jedi smirked. "I wasn't born yesterday. But you, indeed, are mistaking me for someone else."
HK: "Mockingly: A foolish meatbag."
"See the droid?" Revan pointed to HK, who was moving his blasters from one stunned guard to another. "He alone could wipe out your entire, so-called, organization."
HK: "With Derision: In about three minutes."
"And I can churn out many, many more like him," the former Dark Lord said threateningly, subtly releasing a dark, oppressive aura of the Force. "And you wouldn't even notice them coming for you. They could even be a regular protocol droid belonging to one of your clients."
The captive coughed and swallowed hard.
"And if even that hasn't convinced you that it's better not to cross me, look here." Revan turned his head toward one of the stunned guards. "Stand up!"
The bodyguard's eyes snapped open, and he shook his head, regaining consciousness.
"Oh, my head..." the poor wretch groaned.
"You want to shoot your knee," the ancient Jedi pressed against the guard's mind with the Force.
"How I want to shoot my knee..." the fighter muttered tiredly, picking up a pistol lying nearby and pressing it to his leg.
A shot, a cry, and a groan of pain.
"Did you get the message?" the former Sith Lord cocked his head, looking into Ticho's terrified eyes.
The stunned boy nodded rapidly, drenched in cold sweat. The man in the mask invoked a primal terror in him. He had never met anyone so powerful! What were the Hutts compared to this? This stranger could destroy the entire empire of those slugs with a single command! Lord... the name suited him!
At least, that's what the terrified teenager thought. And Revan had no intention of disabusing him. There was no need for him to know that only those weak of will succumbed to such suggestion. Not to mention that the Jedi had been cunning here, choosing the guard among the security detail who had latent masochistic tendencies. After all, forcing a sentient being to harm themselves was not so easy.
"Yes, my Lord! I understand you!" the leader of the Blood Claws, still kneeling, slammed his forehead to the floor, right at his master's feet.
Revan shook his head.
'Another fanatic,' he thought. 'It's always like this with me...'
Nevertheless, the goal had been achieved. The clan had sworn allegiance to a new, secret leader. The Jedi now bore a faint mark on his left bracer, by which any informed sentient could understand that its owner was under the protection of the Claws.
At the end of the "introductory meeting," Revan discussed the matter of Watto's shop and the delivery of the necessary parts with Dorma. He also hinted that the Toydarian had better be made to understand when to keep his crooked teeth shut, if he didn't want to lose them.
The next day.
Watto, who met Revan, was in a very sullen mood. Apparently, the conversation with the Blood Claws had already taken place.
'Efficient,' the Jedi noted mentally.
The Toydarian, clearly grinding his teeth, sold all the required parts for the repair of the Dump for a symbolic 10,000 credits.
"I thank you for your generosity and good sense, respected Watto," Revan smirked under his mask.
"Yeah, right," the merchant scowled.
In general, the former Dark Lord had no further need for this shop. All that remained was to fix the ship and get away from this irritating planet. But the image of Anakin flashed through his mind, forcing the Jedi to stop right at the exit.
Revan wasn't eager to take on apprentices. At least, not until he figured out what was what in this world. But he couldn't leave such a gifted boy unsupervised either.
One option was to drop him off with the Jedi, since Coruscant was planned as the next stop. But first, he needed to confirm the boy's abilities.
An idea struck him.
"Respected Watto!" Revan called out in an unctuous voice.
"What now?" the winged merchant replied gloomily.
"I have one more offer for you."
"What is it?" A hint of interest flashed beneath the hostile tone.
"I wish to rent your slave, Anakin, to help me install the parts I've purchased. I will, of course, pay."
The Toydarian narrowed his eyes and scratched his chin. On the one hand, he disliked the customer. Especially since he was dangerous, being protected by the Claws, who had warned the shop owner to keep quiet and not talk too much. But on the other... credits!
"How long will you need him?" Watto finally decided.
"No more than three days."
"Alright. But he must come to me every morning for a chip check," the Toydarian demanded. "I don't want to have a slave stolen from me, too."
"The thought never crossed my mind," the Jedi feigned offense.
'Clever old merchant,' Revan thought. 'So, quietly taking the boy off the planet won't be an option. Well, we'll find another way.'
"Then we have an agreement."
The two men shook hands.
When Anakin learned that he would be helping his new acquaintance fix his ship, the boy practically jumped for joy. His passion for technology was strong.
'Vaner might have been just as fascinated by ships, droids, and hyperdrives as this boy,' Revan thought sadly. 'Or maybe he was.'
The Jedi sharply pulled himself back. It wouldn't do to become attached to this child. Especially since the future was still unclear.
The repairs went quite quickly. Despite his age, the boy was well-versed in the ship's systems. Almost as good as Revan himself.
Aboard the smugglers' transport, which still bore the nickname Dump, and the former Sith Lord seriously feared the name would stick, the new ship owner allowed himself to walk around without his mask.
Seeing his new friend's face for the first time, Anakin was surprised that he was still very young, despite acting like a very experienced adult. The Jedi was flattered by the compliment, though he knew it couldn't be otherwise. The experience of his past life hadn't vanished.
While the repairs were underway, Revan secretly watched the boy, noting any manifestation of the young guest's abilities. And there were many. The vision, inherited by the ancient Lord from one of his new body's parents, allowed him to discern the subtle currents of the Force that enveloped the boy. He unconsciously directed them, forcing them to aid him in diagnosis and repair. And once, the former Jedi even noticed one of the tools shift slightly, moving closer to the small hand that was trying to feel for it.
Despite his age, the boy had already endured much. A slave's life is not easy, no matter how you look at it. Yet, he managed to keep his soul bright and pure, which made the Jedi doubt more and more that the monster he had seen during their first contact could grow out of this child.
However, he couldn't have imagined such a thing about his friend Alek either, until they both fell to the darkness.
Anakin was a curious child and asked his new friend many questions. Who he was, where he had flown from, what he did, what adventures he'd been on. He was interested in everything. There was little of interest on Tatooine, especially for a slave.
Revan gave the boy roughly the same story he had told Mel, about an unsuccessful hunt and long wanderings in memory of his deceased father. In turn, the Jedi tried to find out about the boy's origins, as well as determine the extent of his awareness of his own abilities.
Finally, on the third day, when the repairs were fully complete, Revan decided to talk more or less frankly to get everything straight.
"Anakin, have you ever heard of the Force?" the former Sith Lord asked as they finished a simple meal of rations.
"The Force?" the boy asked, surprised and interested. "What is it?"
"The Force... hmm... how can I explain it to you," Revan pondered. "It is an invisible energy field, generated by all living things, even the smallest, that surrounds and binds everything in the universe together. An elusive and intangible companion and helper to certain gifted sentients."
"Gifted?"
"Yes," the ancient Master nodded. "For example, have you heard of the Jedi?"
The boy nodded excitedly.
"Yes! I've heard of them! They're good! Defenders of justice, peacekeepers, and all that..." Anakin tried to recall more. "They've flown to Tatooine a few times. They freed two slave children."
'Ah. So, the seekers are still scouring the galaxy and recruiting Younglings,' Revan thought. 'And they have an extremely positive reputation. The HoloNet didn't describe them in such detail.'
"And are you a Jedi, Vaner?" the boy suddenly asked.
"Why would you think that?"
"Well, you didn't start talking about the Force for nothing. And... I don't know... there's a strange feeling around you."
The Jedi noted the boy's sharp perception.
"Well, I won't hide it, I am one of the gifted, and I once trained at the Jedi Temple."
"Whoa, really?" the boy jumped up excitedly.
"Really."
"Cool!"
Revan smiled at the child's openness.
"Moreover, you are also Force-sensitive," the former Sith Lord dropped the bombshell.
"What?! Me?!" Anakin couldn't utter a word, blinking his wide eyes.
"Yes, I'm almost certain of it."
"Does that mean I can train with the Jedi too?" the boy asked hopefully. "And they'll fly here to free me? Or no! Did you fly here to free me? Is that it?"
And what could he say to such a sincere question? No? I'm just passing through? But he couldn't confirm the boy's assumptions either.
"Not exactly," Revan shook his head. "I ended up on Tatooine by chance."
Anakin's face fell.
"But I promise you, I'll figure something out." The man reassuringly ruffled the boy's hair.
"You promise?"
"I promise."
Suddenly, the ancient Lord felt the familiar presence of other Force-sensitives. And not just one. Two, it seemed. Definitely light-sided, though not shining with fanatical devotion to the ideals of the Jedi Order. Or maybe all Knights lacked particularly bright auras now?
In any case, Revan didn't plan on being discovered yet, so he hastily masked his presence.
The two adepts were clearly approaching the planet.
'Well, let's see who's come to call,' the ancient one thought.
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