The golden spires of the Jedi Temple usually echoed with the low, rhythmic chanting of meditation or the sterile hum of training sabers. However, in the spring of 130 BBY, the hallowed halls were currently echoing with something far more disruptive: the high-pitched giggles of twenty Initiates and the manic, rhythmic thud of a pair of black boots sprinting across the polished marble.
"You're losing your momentum, little ones!" Revan Shan shouted over his shoulder, his black Phrik-filament robes billowing like a shadow behind him. He wasn't running in a straight line; he was utilizing his 6th Doctorate in Advanced Dimensional Mechanics to calculate the most efficient vectors of escape, performing a localized Force Jump that took him from the floor to the top of a five-meter-tall bust of Master Phanius, then down into a somersault.
"Get him!" a young Togruta girl yelled, her small hands glowing with the faint, clumsy light of a child's Force-grasp.
Revan slowed down just enough to be teasing. He popped a lemon candy, the tartness sparking against his tongue. "Ah, the pincer maneuver! A classic. But according to my 3rd Doctorate in Sentient Sociology, you've neglected the most important variable: the 'Shiny Object' distraction."
He reached into a pocket and tossed a handful of non-functional, polished brass gears into the air. The younglings hesitated for a fraction of a second—just enough for Revan to utilize a subtle Force Stasis on the air around their feet, making the floor feel like it was made of thick honey.
"Knight Shan!" a sharp, high-pitched voice cut through the chaos.
Revan skidded to a halt, looking up to see Master Vernestra Rwoh and Master Sskeer standing on the observation balcony. Sskeer's reptilian scales were flushed with a deep, agitated crimson, and Vernestra's hand was gripping her lightwhip hilt so hard her knuckles were white.
"You are a Knight of the Order, not a nursery attendant," Sskeer hissed, his voice echoing in the hall. "The High Council is awaiting your final dissertation for your... eleventh degree. And here you are, behaving like a Padawan who has had too much sugar."
"Actually, Master Sskeer, the sugar levels are quite optimal," Revan chirped, gesturing to his bag of candies. "And according to my 11th Doctorate in Xenobiology, physical play is the primary catalyst for neural-pathway development in 84% of sentient species. I'm not playing tag; I'm conducting a localized biological audit of their reflexes."
"He is quite fast, he is," a raspy voice chuckled from behind the scowling Masters.
Grandmaster Yoda waddled forward, his small cane tapping the floor. Without a word of warning, the ancient Master launched himself from the balcony, his green form a blur of speed that even Revan's Force Precognition barely registered.
Whack!
The cane tapped Revan's knee.
"Tagged, you are, Knight Shan!" Yoda cackled, landing with a soft thud. "Now, tag me, you must! Quick! Quick!"
Revan's eyes widened, a wide, Doctor-ish grin splitting his face. "Oh, it's on, Master Yoda! Don't blame me if your blood pressure goes up!"
For the next hour, the two most "Maverick" members of the Temple engaged in a high-velocity game of tag that left the Initiates exhausted, the Masters on the verge of a stroke, and the Temple's structural integrity tested to its limits.
The Eleventh Degree: The Symphony of the Flesh
Later that evening, the Temple was quiet. Revan sat in the Xenobiology lab, his eyes scanning a complex holographic display of a Midi-chlorian lattice. He had just submitted his final thesis.
While the Force was a "feeling," Revan's intellectual mind couldn't help but map the biological interface. He had spent six months auditing the very fabric of life, trying to find the "math" behind the Sith Master Tenebrus's obsession with immortality.
> The Biological Force-Resonance Equation (B_f):
> By utilizing his 11th Doctorate in Xenobiology, Revan had calculated the exact frequency at which cellular decay could be neutralized by a sustained Force-harmonic. He wasn't just studying life; he was mastering the clock he had already anchored to his soul.
>
"It's not a theft of life, Cortana," Revan whispered as the AI's blue avatar appeared beside the microscope. "Tenebrus thinks he has to steal years from others. But the biology says the Force is an infinite well. You just have to know how to tune the engine to the right frequency."
"You've earned the degree, Revan," Cortana noted. "But you've also earned the permanent suspicion of the Council. They don't understand why a man who can touch the stars wants to spend his time studying the mitochondria of a swamp-slug."
"Swamp-slugs are very interesting, Cortana! They have a remarkable resistance to localized Dark Side pockets," Revan countered sassily. "Besides, I'm not just studying slugs. I'm preparing for the audit of the century."
The Secret of Lehon: The Prodigal Knight
Deep in the Unknown Regions, on the tropical moon of Lehon, the Rakatan Foundry emitted a final, satisfied hum.
In the sub-aquatic bay, the construction was complete. The Prodigal Knight, a Harrower-class Dreadnought, sat silent and ghost-grey beneath the sapphire waves. Its hull was a masterpiece of Beskar-Phrik alloy, its engines powered by a localized Rakatan Power Cell and a secondary Kyber-Quantum core.
Revan accessed the Foundry's status through his encrypted Kyber-Quantum communication link.
"Status report, Architect," Revan commanded.
"The Flagship is operational, Sovereign," the ancient AI replied. "All systems integrated. The Aegis Shields are holding at 100%. The Automated Intelligence Satellite Probes have mapped 40% of the surrounding sectors. The vessel remains grounded and silent, as per your directive. It is a fortress waiting for a Master."
"Keep it that way," Revan said, his voice dropping into the 12th Doctor's gravity. "I don't need a warship today. But the galaxy is getting louder, and I'd prefer my library to have capital-ship-grade shields when the shooting starts."
The Summons: The Muunilinst Audit
The peace of the library was broken the following morning by a chime on Revan's gauntlet. It was an official summons from the High Council. Not a "Reflection Session," but a briefing.
Revan walked into the Council chamber, his T-shaped mask hanging from his belt, his black robes looking remarkably tidy for someone who had spent the last week playing with toddlers.
"Knight Shan," Master Sol said, greeting him with a nod of weary respect. "Your grounding and your academic extension are officially over. The Council has a mission that requires your... specific perspective."
"I'm all ears, Sol," Revan said, popping a lemon candy. "As long as it doesn't involve auditing the Temple's plumbing. I've already done that, and trust me, you don't want to know what's in the Level 4 drains."
"The Banking Clan," Vernestra Rwoh stated, her voice tight. "The world of Muunilinst. There has been a series of 'irregularities' in the Republic's credit-transfers. Several major accounts associated with the Jedi Order have been redirected through a shadow-holding company known as Damask Holdings."
Revan's eyes sharpened. Hego Damask. Darth Plagueis. The movies were coming to life.
"Damask Holdings," Revan mused, his sassy tone replaced by a focused authority. "He's a Muun financier. Very wealthy, very influential, and according to my 5th Doctorate in Galactic Lore & Ethics, he has a reputation for 'aggressive acquisitions'. You think he's auditing the Jedi?"
"We believe he is financing the 'Rogue Cell' you identified on Taris," Sol added. "The Council wants you to travel to Muunilinst. Not as a warrior, but as a consultant. Use your doctorates in Advanced Mathematics and Engineering to audit the Banking Clan's logic-gates. Find where the money is going, Revan."
"A financial audit on a planet full of accountants," Revan grinned, the adventurous light returning to his eyes. "Brilliant! I've always wanted to see the inside of a Muunilinst vault. I hear they have excellent security, and I'm in the mood for a challenge."
Departure: The Black Pearl Awakes
Revan walked back to the hangar where the Black Pearl sat waiting. The ship had been meticulously maintained by the droids during his absence. R2-D6 and Chopper were currently engaged in a game of "Magnetic Tag" across the hull, while HK-47 was standing at the ramp, looking exceptionally menacing.
"Statement: Master, I have analyzed the mission parameters for Muunilinst," HK-47 whirred, his photoreceptors glowing a menacing crimson. "Observation: Muuns are structurally delicate meatbags. Their elongated necks are a significant tactical weakness. Suggestion: If the 'financial audit' fails, I should initialize a 'physical audit' of their skeletal integrity. It would be a very kind way to speed up the negotiations."
"No skeletal audits, HK," Revan said, climbing the ramp. "We're being subtle. We're being kind. And we're being the smartest people in the room."
He walked past M1-NR (Miner), who was already preparing the data-encryption protocols for the Muunilinst core.
"Miner, get the Kyber-Quantum Slicing tool ready. Cortana, sync with our Automated Intelligence Satellite Probes over the Banking sectors. If Hego Damask is moving credits, I want to see the binary fingerprints."
Revan sat in the pilot's seat, his hands resting on the Jump-Snap hyperdrive lever. He looked at the completed Revan Holocron on the dash.
"Adventure is the journey, D6," Revan said as the engines roared to life. "And this journey involves the one thing the Sith love more than the Dark Side: money. Let's go see how the other half lives."
He pulled the lever. The stars snapped.
The Black Pearl vanished into the Coruscant sky, leaving the High Republic's golden age behind. The Maverick was back in the game, and the Sith Master Tenebrus was about to find out that his "financial audit" was being audited by a man with eleven doctorates and a very bad attitude toward bullies.
"Next stop: The planet of the accountants," Revan laughed. "Try to be nice, Sol! I'll send you a postcard!"