Mandalore. Revan had long ceased to be surprised by how closely his fate was intertwined with this world and its people. Time and again, something threw him together with the Mandalorians, forcing them to work side-by-side or pulling them to opposite sides of the barricades. It was to be expected that, even in his new life, the former Jedi would not avoid such a turn of events.
Apparently, it was the will of the Force...
Yet, for the first time in his memory, Revan felt pity for the Mandalorians. It did not mesh at all with the image of a terrifying and strong enemy that was firmly entrenched in the former Republic General's mind. But... what the proud warrior race had become... was disheartening.
Even defeated, stripped of their honor and their leader, scattered across the galaxy and forced into mercenary work, the Mandalorians had remained true to themselves and their customs. Even without his armor, Canderous had remained a true Mando'ade. Steadfast, strong, lethal, yet loyal to his code of honor and not without nobility.
But those Revan saw now on the streets of Keldabe were, in his eyes, anything but Mandalorians. Who would have thought that life in a pacifist society would so profoundly affect a once-great people? The rejection of the Mando'ade customs had done Mandalore no good.
The city's inhabitants did not look strange, no. Rather, they were entirely... ordinary. Listless... lost. That was how they felt in the Force.
"What has happened to you?" Revan wondered.
"Is it different from what it was in your time?" Tira suddenly asked, walking to the former Jedi's right.
They were both clad in Mandalorian armor, so the young woman could not see the expression on his face, but Revan's mood, a barely perceptible shake of his head, clearly troubled by something, did not escape the mercenary's watchful gaze.
"Very," the former Jedi answered curtly, adjusting his hood.
Since the open wearing of armor by civilians on Mandalore could provoke many unnecessary questions from law enforcement, the beskar'gam had to be covered by a cloak. This did not bother Revan, who was used to robes, but it greatly annoyed Tira.
"I didn't see what Mandalore was like before the Purge," the Nomad spoke again. "But my mentors tried to explain the essence of what it means to be a True Mandalorian to me." The young woman fell silent for a few moments, but Revan could feel she had more to say. "I wanted to become one of them. I wanted to join the Children of Mandalore... to feel like part of something... strong again."
"Having lost your home and purpose among the Chiss, you found solace in the teachings of the Mandalorians," Revan interrupted the mercenary. "I can understand your feelings."
"I doubt it," Tira scoffed, once again forgetting whom she was speaking to.
"As you recall, I've lived a rather eventful life myself."
"Hutt... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." The young woman realized she had tried to lecture an ancient warrior who had been through countless battles and managed to bring both Mandalore and the entire galaxy to its knees.
"I have often been in a situation where only the words of the Code... or rather, Codes... saved me from an abyss of despair and madness," Revan smiled sadly. "It's not for nothing that Padawans are drilled in loyalty and unshakeable, blind faith in the Order from a young age. It helps keep one's bearings in the raging ocean of madness that fills the galaxy. But when that faith crumbles, when the Order is no longer your support, and the words of the Code begin to ring hollow... it's terrifying. Few manage to hold on and not fall into the Darkness, destroying their mind and personality. And fewer still survive it repeatedly... So, believe me, I can understand your desire to fill the void in your soul and find support again by becoming part of something greater."
The young woman simply nodded in response, accepting his words. She did not want to say anything more, for no words could convey all the emotions hidden in the mercenary's soul. Revan had described her state very accurately. Raised in a world with a rigid caste system and brought up on the philosophy of the Chiss Ascendancy, Tira had lost everything she knew and hoped for. A bright future in the armed forces vanished like a meteor in a gas giant's atmosphere. Dreams of glory and greatness were gone. Even hopes for happiness within her family... those too had evaporated. If the Nomad clan hadn't found her then, Tira wouldn't have survived a week.
So, it was not surprising that she clung to a new home among the Mandalorians and fanatically absorbed the teachings given by the clan mentors. Aru'Tir'Anude cast off her past and became Tira Nomad. In her striving to prove to everyone that she was not just "defective trash" or "half-breed," the young woman dedicated herself entirely to becoming a true Mandalorian in the eyes of her mentors—a warrior from the times when Mandalore was respected and feared. What a disappointment it was for her to see what had become of the world whose culture she had so desperately sought to join. To become part of something that had vanished... again.
"Briefly tell me who will be attending the meeting," Revan's voice pulled the young woman out of her somber thoughts.
"Mostly representatives of the opposition in the Parliament and a few neutral clans who disagree with Kryze's policies but are not ready to join Death Watch," Nomad replied. "I can't name the exact composition, but besides my clan, I think representatives from the Eldar, Rook, and Rau clans will be present."
"Tell me about them."
"From what I know, the Eldar were originally a clan of hunters on Dxun and one of the first that Mandalore the Preserver gathered under his banner. After the latest civil war on Onderon, the clan decided to move closer to the capital and chose the planet Ordo for their new home. Later, representatives of the clan also appeared in Keldabe shortly before the Purge. They try to stay out of politics, preferring to keep to themselves until summoned by the Mandalore. Almost like the Nomads, but unlike my clan, they prefer not to leave the Mandalore system."
"What about the Rau? I seem to recall hearing about them in those distant times."
"That's not surprising. The Rau took on the role of the Defectors of the inhabited worlds of the Mandalore system. They must have stood in the path of Revan's armada."
The former Jedi nodded, not wishing to pursue that topic. After all, when he turned Mandalore the Ultimate's tactics against him, the Republic army had done much that Revan was not proud of.
"What about their current standing?"
"They are in charge of defending Concord Dawn. A parliamentary decision allowed them to keep their armor, but their weaponry was restricted. It goes without saying that the Rau are not happy with this situation. But they also don't want to join the fanatics in Death Watch, awaiting a decision from the acting Mandalore."
"Fett?" This time, the former Jedi managed to pronounce the clan's name almost without grimacing.
"Yes," Tira nodded. "But Jango disappeared and completely withdrew from leadership, handing all authority over to these pathetic pacifists."
"I see. What about the Rook?"
"Clan Rook... Snakes, that says it all. Slippery, secretive, and deadly. They love poisons and silent weapons. In Parliament, they remain neutral, and from the outside, it might seem that everything suits them. But like the other tradition-loyal clans, they do not wish to part with their armor and heritage."
"So why haven't they joined Death Watch?"
"That's the question that torments everyone who sees the real state of affairs. As I said, they're slippery characters."
"Is that everyone we expect to see?"
"Pretty much. Maybe there will be a couple more neutrals whom the heads of the allied clans trust."
"And all in the same position as your clan? What about the hostages?"
"No one is giving details. Everyone fears spies in their ranks. Especially after the Wren clan distinguished itself among the opposition."
"What's wrong with them?"
"Wren belongs to House Vizsla. The clans share a common ancestor, but they suddenly started feuding. And it's unclear what prompted Wren's actions. Is it their own initiative or a game being played by Vizsla?"
'I hate intrigue,' Revan noted mentally.
For a time, the former Jedi and the Mandalorian mercenary walked in silence, each immersed in their own thoughts.
"Allow me a question," the Nomad broke the silence first.
"Ask away," Revan nodded.
"Have you decided what name you'll use when speaking with the clans?"
The former Jedi had indeed pondered this question repeatedly. Fully revealing himself was definitely out of the question. First, few would believe the story of Revan's revival. Second... the relationship between the former Republic General and the warriors of Mandalore had always been quite complicated and strained. And how the Mandalorians of this era viewed him was hard to gauge. The Nomad clan, as Revan understood from Tira's words, considered the former Jedi to be almost a brother-in-arms of Canderous Ordo and spoke of his contribution to Mandalore's history with nothing but respect and pride. But not everyone shared their viewpoint. After all, it was Revan who, in his time, deprived the Mandalorian people of a leader for many years.
So, a fabricated name would have to be used. One of those by which he was already known in the galaxy should suffice.
There was also the question of his affiliation with the Order. After the Purge, Jedi were not the most welcome guests on Mandalore. And while the Duchess might gladly receive him at her residence, demonstrating the peacefulness and friendliness of the reformed Mandalore, everyone else...
"I think I'll use the persona of Vaner Shan, a mercenary from Tatooine," Revan replied after a short pause.
"Wise. After all, Avner Van is officially considered a Jedi, and the first name check would confirm it. Vaner raises far fewer suspicions."
"Even being connected to the Hutt Cartel?" Revan smirked.
"Especially for that reason," Tira nodded seriously. "Believe me, ties to the criminal underworld are much preferred over ties to the Order or the Republic Senate on Mandalore."
"I presume the Republic is also viewed with prejudice here?"
"Not by everyone. At least, not openly," Nomad shook her head. "Kryze's party continues to grovel before the Senate, so they will praise the Republic and democracy as if they owe them for saving Mandalore from all the galaxy's troubles and misfortunes."
"And among the opposition?"
"You don't even have to mention Death Watch. They sincerely believe that Mandalore's greatness lies in the bloody massacre that Mandalore the Ultimate perpetrated when he swept through the galaxy with fire and sword," Tira scoffed. "The other clans are angry at the Republic and the Order because of the Purge and the subsequent repression that led to the establishment of the pacifist government."
"As always," Revan sighed wearily. "The Republic and the Order themselves create their enemies by succumbing to fear and prejudice."
The former Jedi had often pondered why conflicts repeatedly arose in Republic space, and among Force-sensitives in particular. It was all due to fear. If a Force-sensitive begins to study the Dark Side, they are branded as fallen and sought to be isolated or destroyed. This provokes a reaction, pushes the Force-sensitive deeper into the darkness, feeds their fear, and thus we get a new Dark Lord seeking to secure himself by eradicating the champions of the Light.
Revan recalled his frequent conversations with Scourge in the prison on Nyriss. The Sith then told the Jedi that the majority of his people supported the Emperor not so much out of fear of the Sith Lord himself, but because of the danger of being destroyed by the Jedi Order. Vitiate seized power by taking advantage of the moment. He promised the Sith salvation and a safe home. Yes, it was a deception... but it worked.
Hutt! The Empire and the Republic were on opposite ends of the galaxy and could have gone another thousand years without encountering each other if it weren't for fear. The two sides clashed again, which nearly led to the annihilation of everything. And Revan himself bore some of the blame for that. It was he who ventured to the edge of the galaxy looking for the cause of his nightmares, which almost provoked Vitiate. Only by a miracle and at the cost of his own life was the invasion postponed. All because of what? Because of fear!
'Oh, Force, all Force-sensitives shouldn't have a code hammered into their heads first thing, they should be taught how to fight their own paranoia!' Revan lamented mentally, continuing to follow Tira.
"We're here." The mercenary's voice pulled the former Jedi out of his troubled thoughts.
Revan looked around. An ordinary two-story house in a not-too-affluent, but decent neighborhood of Keldabe. No visible security, no defense systems, nothing that might attract unnecessary attention from law enforcement. The only oddity the former Jedi noted was that there were no passersby or residents from neighboring houses. The block seemed deserted, but the condition of the nearest houses suggested otherwise. It felt as if the owners had just stepped out for a walk a few minutes ago.
"The camouflage is good," Revan noted.
"The most secret things are best hidden in plain sight," Nomad shrugged and approached the door.
Tapping lightly on the door with an armored gauntlet, Tira took a step back.
The door opened just a couple of seconds later. No questions, no passwords; they were simply let in. Which was not surprising. Revan was sure they had been watched for a long time. And the feeling in the Force confirmed it. There were living beings in each of the surrounding houses. But no threat was sensed.
"There will be guards inside, so no sudden movements," Nomad warned and stepped forward.
Even from the inside, the house gave the impression of an ordinary dwelling that the owner had left while going for a walk.
Revan sensed the presence of living beings quite clearly. So, the appearance of four warriors in armor was no surprise.
"Identify yourselves," one of the Mandalorians demanded.
"Tira Nomad and Vaner Shan, here for the meeting," the mercenary answered calmly.
The guard relayed the names to someone via comlink and, upon receiving approval, ordered them to follow him.
The path led to the basement, which turned out to be... simply enormous. An inconspicuous door at the far end of a narrow room on the floor below was a passage into a branched network of tunnels that led them into a true underground hangar. Estimating the size of the place, Revan concluded that the entire complex spanned several city blocks. It was a genuine small settlement, hidden from everyone.
The hangar was divided into several zones. One was clearly designated for living quarters and consisted of a dozen makeshift rooms, enclosed on all sides by steel sheets, on which faint markings indicated that they were previously cargo containers.
Another distinct area was a market with many stalls and racks, where everything from food to weapons was obviously being traded.
A little further lay something like a repair workshop and equipment warehouse. And immediately behind it, a sector was completely blocked off by durasteel armor plating and was clearly guarded.
The impression was that the complex was designed for a far greater number of inhabitants than were currently present.
"Surprised?" Nomad smirked, overhearing a quiet hum from the former Jedi.
"Where did all this come from?" Revan asked, successfully concealing his surprise.
"The legacy of our ancestors," Tira stated proudly.
"Elaborate?"
"It's the Basilisk Nest."
"What?" Revan did not understand.
"A former warehouse for Basilisk war droids from the time of Mandalore the Ultimate. It was later repurposed as a shelter in case of an orbital strike, and after another conflict in this part of the galaxy, the complex was forgotten for centuries. It was rediscovered by the Nomad clan only about a hundred years ago. Now, it's used for secret clan meetings." Tira shifted her gaze to a group of locals clad in battered armor. "And some prefer to live here entirely, hiding from the current government due to their refusal to give up their beskar'gam."
"And are there many such people?"
"No, only a couple of dozen. Those who are wanted and don't have the means to live on the surface," Tira explained. "Although there aren't as many law enforcement patrols in Keldabe as in Sundari, only a few who have special permission from the government can openly wear armor."
"Surely this situation doesn't suit everyone?"
"No, that's why we're here."
Tira walked confidently towards the most securely protected part of the complex. It turned out that this was where something like a command center was located, where the meeting was to take place.
They were already expected.
Six individuals in Mandalorian armor with their helmets on were seated in a small hall with a long oval table. All were armed. The emotions felt in the Force were a mix. Confusion, anger, dissatisfaction, interest.
'A perfectly normal cocktail of feelings for a Mandalorian,' Revan noted mentally.
"Greetings, esteemed elders," Tira began with a bow, then addressed the warrior in black and silver armor with scarlet inlays separately: "Greetings, Mentor."
"Tira," the stranger nodded in response. "Your request for a meeting caught us off guard."
Everyone present spoke exclusively in Mando'a, and Revan was pleased with the fact that he had not been too lazy to learn the language in his time.
"Yes," another Mandalorian, whose armor was dark green with orange inlays, confirmed discontentedly. "A Parliamentary session is scheduled for the day after tomorrow to consider the possibility of using the services of the Justice Corps, which will tighten the collar around Mandalore's neck even further. We should be preparing, not wasting time on idle talk."
"I agree with Eldar," supported the neighbor a Mandalorian in white and blue armor with a golden visor trim on his helmet. "This bill could severely hurt the entire opposition. Not to mention the threat to my clan."
"Concord Dawn will never abandon Clan Rau, brother," Tira's mentor stated. "You have done much for the inhabitants of that planet, protecting them from pirates."
"But that won't save us from the possibility of Senate-loyal soldiers appearing on our doorstep," argued the evident elder from Clan Rau.
"Now is not the time for this discussion," interrupted the debaters a warrior in purple armor with yellow and silver inlays, who had been silent until then. "After all, we haven't even learned our guest's name yet."
The meeting's attention shifted to Revan.
"Who are you?" the representative of Clan Eldar asked.
"Vaner Shan," the former Jedi introduced himself with a slight bow.
"Shan?" someone among the gathered individuals repeated.
"Not Mandalorian," concluded an unknown participant in the meeting in gray and blue armor.
"But speaks Mando'a and wears beskar'gam," the representative of Clan Rook, judging by the armor, said with a smirk.
"And honors our traditions," Tira defended Revan.
"You yourself are new among us. What gives you the right to—" a Mandalorian woman in dark orange armor began to reprimand the young woman sarcastically.
"Enough!" the mercenary's mentor snapped. "Tira is one of the Nomad clan. She is one of us and has proven more than once that she is worthy of respect, like any other Mandalorian. Do not forget that again, Buro."
The voice of the Nomad clan representative was deep with a slight rasp, which might indicate his advanced age. Unfortunately, nothing more could be determined because the faces of all present were hidden beneath their helmets. Everyone referred to each other only by their clan names, which made identification even more difficult... And it was devilishly prudent. Even if an outsider were present at the meeting, they would not learn the names or features of the participants. After all, many of those present, based on Tira's slips, were high-ranking officials in the government of Mandalore and neighboring worlds in the system.
"Perhaps we should return to the question of what our guest is doing here?" the representative of Clan Rook called everyone back to order.
"Tira?" Nomad turned his visor-covered gaze to his apprentice.
"Mentor, I believe Vaner can help us save Mandalore," the mercenary stated.
Judging by the reaction, the young woman's words did not impress anyone.
"And why do you think he can help us?" the representative of Clan Eldar inquired.
"He has extensive experience... in such matters."
Revan understood the young woman's difficulty in answering. How to convince the gathering that a single person could help them without mentioning his achievements or real name... It was a foolish idea from the start.
"Girl," the representative of Clan Rau interrupted Tira, "we appreciate your desire to help us and your clan. But you apparently do not realize the situation we find ourselves in."
"The Kryze government dances to the tune of the Senate and the Jedi. We are deprived of almost all means and opportunities for resistance," the Rook representative continued. "If a coup is threatened, troops will be brought into the sector again, and we will simply be destroyed."
"Not to mention that, besides Kryze, we are also under pressure from Vizsla and his Death Watch," the young woman from Clan Buro interjected.
"That's what I wanted to talk about," Tira spoke again. "Vaner can help with the hostage rescue."
A tense silence fell. Someone swore quietly under their breath.
"How much did you tell him?" the representative of Clan Nomad asked dryly.
"A lot," the mercenary replied, visibly nervous but trying not to show it.
"That was reckless," the Mandalorian woman from Buro hissed.
"Ideally, you both should be eliminated immediately," the representative of Clan Eldar joined the conversation. "But we cannot be sure that the information hasn't already gone further, which would make your death pointless."
"I assure you, I know how to keep secrets," Revan said calmly, and with a hint of challenge in his voice, added: "And how to insure my life."
The hint was quite clear. The information was still a secret, but if any attempt was made to harm Vaner, the details would be made public.
"We don't like threats," the Mandalorian from Clan Rau growled.
"That wasn't a threat, brother," the representative of Clan Rook said thoughtfully. "We were simply chosen to be talked to on equal terms. Interesting."
"Yes, it's not often you encounter such among humans," Nomad added. "However, with such friends, less was not to be expected."
Revan understood the hint. The mention of his race directly indicated that they already had a dossier on Vaner Shan. And "friends" did not mean Tira.
"You work with the Hutts, don't you?" Nomad stated rather than asked, displaying a hologram above the table with a brief dossier on Vaner Shan.
Nothing less was expected from a clan specializing in intelligence and investigations.
Revan hummed, then removed his hood and mask.
"So young," the representative of Clan Eldar was surprised.
"Yet so accomplished," the Mandalorian from Clan Rook said respectfully.
From what Revan could make out from the back of the hologram, the dossier contained information about Vaner's involvement with the Hutt Cartel, the Tatooine Blood Claws, and the seizure of Black Sun territory on Coruscant.
"As Tira said, I have experience in such matters," Revan said with a smile.
"And what is the similarity between our situations?" Nomad inquired calmly. "You carried out several brilliant operations to seize power from a local gang and an isolated cell of a crime syndicate, all with the support of the Hutts. Yes, the achievement is impressive, but how will this experience help in our situation, where we are talking about an entire star system with billions of inhabitants?"
"A swift takeover won't work here," the representative of Clan Eldar agreed with Nomad. "In the event of forceful action, we will face a civil war, and on two fronts. The Senate will not stand aside, and it will all end in a new Purge. Or the Jedi will simply arrive to repeat what they did on Galidraan. We will achieve nothing but our own destruction."
Revan nodded thoughtfully.
"You are largely correct. A civil war is unavoidable," he agreed with the previous speaker. "However, you are overestimating the capabilities of the Senate and the Order. The reaction will not be so swift. You will have anywhere from a few months to a year in reserve."
"What makes you so confident?" Rook tilted his head slightly.
"The Senate is a gigantic bureaucratic machine. There hasn't been a single case where they could make a decision faster than in several sessions, which can stretch into weeks. Information arrives at the chancellery in fragments. It won't pass without the creation of an investigative committee. That's another few weeks for its formation and transfer to Mandalore. Followed by the return flight, a report, a new session, and more long speeches from bureaucrats. And if... one secures the support of certain senators, the discussion can be dragged out for months."
"And the Jedi?" someone asked.
"The Order is even more slow-moving than the Senate, believe me. Time and again throughout their history, their inaction has allowed events to unfold in the galaxy that raise suspicions about the truth of their adherence to so-called good and light. The defenders of democracy and keepers of peace have repeatedly allowed large-scale intersectoral wars to ignite, claiming the lives of trillions of sentients. And they only began to act when it was too late to do anything to minimize the damage, or when someone else had already done all the work for them." At the end, a note of anger and disgust crept into Revan's voice. "That was the case, for example, four thousand years ago. The Jedi allowed the Mandalorians to conquer half the Republic, and if not for the intervention of a group of renegades, the Republic would have ceased to exist even then. Then followed a new civil war, a Sith Empire, and countless more mistakes by the Order."
"What are you driving at?" Nomad interrupted the reasoning.
"The Jedi are not as strong as they seem. They are constrained by..." Revan smirked at the fleeting thought and voiced it: "Fear. Fear makes them inactive. And apathy... is death."
The assembly remained silent for a few moments, considering their guest's words.
"Are you claiming that in the event of an escalation of the conflict, we don't need to worry about the intervention of the Republic and the Jedi?" Rook clarified.
"You shouldn't overlook them entirely, but don't count on a swift reaction either."
Revan was confident in his words. The Senate was constrained by democratic protocols, and the Order could do nothing without the approval of the Council. And the decision-making process could easily be slowed down. After all, senators have always been easily bought with credits. How much does a representative of some poor sector—where nothing is mined, produced, or grown except space dust—need? A few thousand credits, and their vote will serve whoever extended a hand of "financial" aid.
With the Order, things were a bit more complicated, but by having contacts with several Masters, Revan could also influence the Council. Perhaps not fully, but slowing them down, throwing them off the scent... was easy.
"But that is only a temporary reprieve," Buro reminded everyone. "Sooner or later, an army will come for us."
"By then, we might be able to prepare ourselves," suggested one of the participants who had not introduced himself.
"And where will we get the ships and weapons to keep the enemy out of our sector?" the Mandalorian woman persisted.
"That won't be necessary," offered Eldar, who had been deep in thought.
"What?"
"Consider this: in the event of a successful coup, we establish a new government on Mandalore. After that, we replace our representative in the Senate and put forward a resolution to recognize the new government as legitimate and consistent with the will of the Mandalorian people."
"That sounds suspiciously like withdrawing from the Republic," Rook scoffed.
"No, in that case, you will be declared Separatists, and then you can definitely expect the army to pay a visit," Revan countered.
New and new remarks sounded from the meeting participants. The topic was actively discussed and developed. When Revan first entered the hall, the clan representatives were mostly depressed. They saw no way out of the current situation. But now... they had been pointed in the right direction, given hope, and explained that an exit did exist. With every passing moment, the clan representatives gathered here increasingly resembled the Mandalorians Revan knew: strong, determined, ruthless, and audacious. Someone was even proposing a plan to attack the palace in Sundari, but he was subdued by other participants. But the main thing was that the Mandalorians were ready to act again.
"So, will you accept my help?" Revan reminded them of his presence.
The discussion quieted, and the assembly's attention focused on the guest.
"Your ideas are worth considering in more detail," the Rook representative nodded in agreement. "But we cannot trust an outsider."
"However, the young Tira Nomad and her clan vouched for you..." The Mandalorian from Clan Eldar turned to the mercenary's mentor, waited for an affirmative nod from Nomad, and continued: "The clan supports their apprentice's opinion."
"We have much to discuss and information to compile before we can make a decision," Rook spoke again. "Therefore..."
Suddenly, the communicators of all those gathered went off in turn, indicating an urgent message.
"Has something happened?" Tira asked her mentor, concerned.
He was frowning as he read the text on a datapad.
"An explosion in one of the northern mines on Concordia," he reported. "Strange."
"Isn't that the sector where intelligence suggests Death Watch is hiding?" the Mandalorian woman from Clan Buro quietly asked her neighbor.
He nodded in response.
Slap!
The sound of Revan's hand smacking his own face echoed through the hall.
"I asked... quietly..." the guest muttered into his gauntlet.
"Do you know something about this?" the representative of Clan Rook inquired.
"I sincerely hope not," Revan groaned in response.
He had no confidence, however. After all, HK-47 had set off for Concordia. And the connection between that fact and the explosion instantly occurred to the former Jedi, even without resorting to the Force.
"Well, I suggest we conclude our meeting now, as a great deal of work clearly awaits us soon. The Parliament will not ignore the sabotage of one of the mines, even a long-closed one," the representative of Clan Eldar rose from his seat.
All present agreed with the opinion of the Mandalorian in dark green armor and hurried to leave the secret hideout of the opposition.
All except Tira's mentor. Nomad sat and waited until everyone but his apprentice and Revan had left the meeting hall.
When they were alone, the Mandalorian rose from his seat and approached the guests.
"Sevras Nomad," he offered his hand for a handshake.
"Vaner Shan," Revan shook it.
The Mandalorian scoffed, as if surprised by the sound of the name.
"Shan..." he said thoughtfully. "Are you aware that the Nomad clan originated on the planet Ordo as an offshoot of the eponymous clan?"
"Tira mentioned it," the former Jedi nodded, beginning to guess what was happening.
"The Ordo clan, following the decrees of Mandalore the Preserver, kept quite detailed chronicles, preserving the history of our people for posterity," Sevras continued. "And the name 'Shan' often appears in the records. A funny coincidence?"
Revan offered a slight smile in response.
"And that name is connected to an unpleasant organization, for belonging to which any of those present at the meeting a few minutes ago would have shot you. But you are lucky that your name is 'Shan,'" Nomad continued, not releasing Revan's hand from his tight grip. "A good name. The name of a friend. But one lost to the ages. Is that your real name? Jetii."
He had been exposed. It was clear as day. Playing the part was pointless now.
"Not exactly, but much connects me to Shan," Revan decided.
"And what is your name, jetii?"
Sevras visibly tensed, clearly preparing for an attack if he did not like the answer.
"Revan."
Nomad flinched as if struck and froze like an immobile statue.
"Repeat that," the Mandalorian finally managed to squeeze out.
"I am Revan."
For a few seconds, Sevras simply stared silently into the guest's face, not releasing his hand. Then he suddenly loosened his grip and took a step back, releasing Revan's palm from his armored gauntlet.
"So, the Ordo diaries told the truth..." Nomad whispered. "The Butcher will return to save us or destroy us once more."
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