The "Consular" from Serenno sliced through hyperspace, heading towards the planet Corulag. To save time, the ship named "Honor of the Ordain" was to enter the Perlemian Trade Route and follow it. By logic that defied conventional stereometry, taking such a "detour" allowed for faster travel than a straight line. Speed in hyperspace was a relative quantity, as was distance, which led to such strange twists in galactic navigation.
Revan slowly returned to his assigned cabin aboard Count Dooku's ship, the origin of whose name the aristocrat could talk about for hours. Revan probably learned more about the founder of the Dooku lineage than he wanted to. The trouble was that over the thousand-year history of the Dooku lineage, there had been twelve individuals named Ordain. And in whose honor the ship was named, the story did not say. Apparently, for this reason, the Count decided to tell his guest about each one individually. And even though Dooku showed hospitality and tried to entertain his guest in this way, the biography of his ancestors did not become brighter or more interesting because of it. And it wasn't for the stories that Revan found himself aboard this ship.
After the negotiations on Naboo, which were successful, albeit unofficial, Count Serenno invited the former Sith to accompany him to the upcoming negotiations with the head of the corporation "Republic Sienar Systems." These negotiations were not a secret. Moreover, they were part of the strategy announced to the future "Union" for strengthening its own positions and preparing for the inevitable conflict in the future. Revan managed to be convincing enough that, even without the final approval for the formation of the "Union" itself, he received almost a hundred million credits in advance. The sum, by galactic standards, was quite small and sounded impressive only on the Outer Rim... and even there, the Hutts would have laughed for a long time. In terms of building warships, a hundred million seemed pathetic. However, it should be enough for the down payment for the reconstruction of the "Obsidian." Revan needed a cruiser like air. Besides the obvious reasons, such as main caliber guns and strong armor, the ship also had an equally important diplomatic role.
In the Republic, as everywhere else, first impressions mattered a lot. Ambiance, appearance, style, and reputation were as important weapons for a diplomat as a proton torpedo was for a warship commander.
One could arrive at negotiations on a transport ship in Hutt space, where everything is not what it seems. Leaders of states in the Mid Rim would think ten times before agreeing to meet with someone who cannot even afford a decent ship, or worse - doesn't care about reputation! Meeting such a person could ruin one's life, leading to losing a warm position or becoming an outcast among peers. As for the Core Worlds, where ostentatious luxury had become synonymous with good taste, however absurd it might sound, there was no need to mention them.
In fact, it was precisely because of the need to make the right impression on Sienar that Dooku suggested Revan use his "Consular." And the presence of the Count, already established in the diplomatic arena, would be a good support in the negotiations for the restoration of a "long-lost rarity," possessing impressive firepower. Such "toys" should not fall into the hands of ordinary citizens of the Republic. As a law-abiding citizen, Wright Sienar was obliged to inform the representatives of the "Judicial Forces" about this... which he would prefer to avoid for now. Dooku's authority should have played into Revan's hands. It would be easier for the head of a company that had been supplying the Republic's armies with ships and military equipment for generations to decide on an adventure that Revan was about to propose, if it was supported by a respected diplomat and former Jedi Master. Although, there was a chance that Sienar would seize any opportunity to pull the company out of crisis. In recent years, "Republic Sienar Systems" had not been doing well. There were almost no orders... which was not surprising, given that the Republic officially had no army. But hedging one's bets had never hurt anyone.
And the offer was interesting, no matter how you looked at it. Sienar's company was offered to do what they hadn't done for many years, having ceded leadership in shipbuilding to the "Kuot Shipyards," namely - to build a heavy cruiser capable of surpassing all warships created before it. And the work wouldn't even have to be done from scratch. "Sienar" would be provided with the "Interdictor-class" as a basis, albeit in a damaged state. Revan understood that the ship's design itself required serious reworking, and the two wars in which the former Sith had participated, standing on the bridge of the "Obsidian," had shown this well. The "Interdictor-class" was prepared for commissioning into the Republican army in a hurry. There was a war going on, and there wasn't much time for refinement or testing. Originally, the project was prepared for different needs than a "hyperspace interceptor" and, in some modifications, a command ship. Where the two halves of the ship's "claw" met, instead of a hangar, the result of project "Silence" was to be placed, which never led to any result. "Silence" was a giant laser cannon capable of piercing the shields and hull of any ship or space station known at the time with a single shot... as was assumed. However, Republican engineers could not complete the project of this new "superweapon," and the ship being built for it was modified for the fleet's needs. Ironically, the "Silence" project was eventually completed by the Sith. Imperial spies obtained early blueprints and developer notes, and based on them, Darth Mekhis, or rather her people, created the "Silencer" cannon, which was installed on Sith "Harrower-class" cruisers. A curious fact was that the "Harrowers" also had a split hull, albeit in a different plane, but originally - they were not intended to have a weapon installed instead of a hangar.
Be that as it may, the "Interdictor-class" needed to be rebuilt. The hangar in the "claw" on one side, of course, provided cover for small ships taking off, but at the same time limited their maneuverability. If a pair of corvettes equipped with rapid-fire planetary defense batteries appeared nearby, no fighter could escape the barrage without damage. Mandalorians used this often - cunning wompas. Moreover, two hulls are much less resistant to deformation than a single monolithic frame, clad in strong armor, as was implemented on the "Centurions." The battlecruisers of this class were twice the size of the "Interdictor-class" and possessed impressive firepower, albeit at the expense of speed and maneuverability. However, the role of a battleship was always to take the hit, as long as possible, and strike back as hard as possible, while agile but less well-protected destroyers tore enemy heavyweights to pieces with their pinpoint attacks.
Revan's insane idea was to combine the features of the "Interdictor-class" and the "Centurion" in one project, while retaining most of the first. There was more than enough funding for such a project, considering the "advance" from the "Union" and the profit from the "Star Forge" trading company, so the only question was the capabilities of "Sienar's" engineers. Revan eagerly anticipated the conversation with the representative of the shipbuilding company.
His apprentice, however, did not share his enthusiasm. Tyra was unaccustomed to prolonged social events, and the multi-hour negotiations on Naboo had been a real torture for the warrior. However, Revan considered his ward's suffering as good experience in peaceful interaction with potential allies. Diplomacy in action. The proponent of "aggressive negotiations" did not think so.
"Please, tell me I won't have to attend another meeting that lasts for a Hutt's day!" the displeased Nomad grumbled with a hint of pleading in her voice when the "Honor of the Ordain" exited hyperspace to adjust its course and enter the "Perlemian Trade Route."
"I've already told you that this is a useful experience for diplomatic meetings, and that as my apprentice, you'll have to attend dozens more," Revan replied, not looking up from his terminal and incoming mail.
"They just talk in circles for hours and drag out the process as much as possible!" Tira exclaimed indignantly, throwing up her hands.
"And that's one of the most common methods of pressuring an interlocutor. To exhaust them, to drive them out of their mind, to break their prepared line of behavior, and then, with a rush, not letting them recover, to impose your conditions or to extract new information. Diplomacy in practice is not much different from a clash of two armies, where only a cool head and quick reaction of the commander will help achieve victory."
Tira pondered. She had heard similar words before... and her mother had said them. Anudé'Sora'Mitt was a wise woman, which is why she was valued so highly in the Dominion that they didn't throw her out of their space the same day they found out about her connection with that Echani, but kept her as an analyst until her "crime" became too obvious.
"Hmm, it seems you won't have to sit with me at the meeting after all," Revan suddenly said in a tense tone.
"What?" Tira asked, not knowing whether to rejoice or prepare for trouble.
"Dooku has preliminarily contacted Wright Cienaar, the head of 'Cienaar Republic Systems', and... hmm... has interested our potential contractor," the former Sith said thoughtfully.
"How?" Tira still didn't understand her mentor's mood.
"He offered him to participate in the restoration of a rare ship. I don't think you'll have trouble guessing which one?"
"The 'Obsidian'?" Nomad asked, surprised.
Revan nodded.
"But how could he? That's your ship... And it's a Hutt cruiser! A war machine whose existence was supposed to remain a secret... wasn't it?" Tira clarified, seeing that her teacher was reacting much calmer than she was.
"Formally, it's a diplomatic ship, and almost a museum exhibit, so we're not making a big secret of its existence anymore. We did show up at Mandalore, after all. The Jedi helped us with legalization, but those who don't have 'pud' in their heads have already connected everything. Even if they don't have exact information on the ship's condition, its very existence is no longer a secret. So, it's in our interest to bring it into a more acceptable condition as soon as possible. Fortunately, the order for 'Cienaar' can be carried out under the guise of purchasing a ship for the needs of the 'Star Forge'."
"I thought 'Cienaar' no longer had shipyards suitable for building ships of this class..."
"Oh no, they do. They don't give up such things just like that. In the old days, this company even built battlecruisers for the Republic. But that's not the point now. Cienaar would like to see what he is going to 'restore'. And I would say that, judging by the tone of the letter, he is ready to rush to any point in the galaxy for such a thing. The 'Interdictor-class heavy cruiser' clearly 'inspired' him. And he hasn't even heard our real offer yet," Revan chuckled.
"And what now? Are we flying to the 'Obsidian'?" Tira asked hopefully.
"No. Only you will fly to the 'Obsidian'. Let Risa bring the cruiser to the planet Corulag within a short jump distance in three days, galactic standard time. Wright has scheduled the meeting there."
"And I'll just be a messenger?" Tira grumbled, although she was ready to cling with all her limbs to the opportunity not to go to another "negotiation about nothing."
"You will ensure that a couple more of my apprentices sit quietly and don't break the ship completely. I have some bad premonitions. Not strong enough to drop everything and fly myself, but not weak enough to simply ignore them," Revan explained.
In fact, the reason was not only this. Besides the desire to spare his apprentice and give her a rest, the former Jedi also felt... a nagging need to send Tira to the 'Obsidian'. Something incomprehensible resonated in the Force, causing inexplicable anxiety... and anticipation. No visions, no clear images, just this strange premonition of something dangerous, but necessary. And Tira had to be a part of it.
"Be a nanny?" Nomad asked grimly.
"HK has been with them almost all day and doesn't complain," Revan noted.
"He's a droid!"
"And that doesn't stop him from complaining."
"And shooting your students with a blaster."
"For educational purposes," Revan agreed.
"Can I?"
"You can't."
"Why?!" Nomad exclaimed indignantly.
"You'll kill them."
"I can control myself! HK manages, doesn't he?"
"HK, as you've noticed, is a droid."
"And that doesn't stop him from wanting to kill everyone."
"But it helps him hold back," Revan cut him off.
There was nothing to argue with. Tira Nomad could only growl something inarticulate in a fit of powerless rage and agree.
"Fine. I'll be a nanny," she grumbled, her intonation reminding him of his long-lost wife.
Revan had once compared Bastila's frowning and offended look to the wrinkled face of a kinrat cub... which Shan hadn't forgiven him for until their wedding. Tira now grimaced in exactly the same way.
"Thank you for your understanding," Revan smiled.
Never before had Tira seen the former Jedi smile like that... not at her, at least. The sight stunned the Mandalorian and made her regret that her helmet was currently fastened to her belt and not hiding the blush that had spread to her face. And why wasn't Revan himself wearing a mask... everything would have been much simpler.
It took Nomad only a moment to remember that she was a proud Mandalorian warrior, not a sniveling aristocrat from the Core Worlds, and that blushing was not for her.
Revan was surprised by his interlocutor's reaction. From his point of view, nothing had happened that could have caused Tira's momentary embarrassment.
Impetuously putting on her helmet, Tira said goodbye and hurried to leave her mentor's cabin. The urge to kiss him was too strong, but the memory of the warning after her last impulse was still vivid.
After discussing the new circumstances with Dooku, Revan decided to send Tira to the 'Obsidian' on the 'Eagle', and to remain a guest on Count Sereno's ship for a little longer himself. Nomad didn't object. Especially since the alternative was a shuttle the size of a life pod, found in the tiny cargo hold of the 'Consular-class cruiser'.
"Is something troubling you, Master Revan?" Dooku asked the former Sith, as he gloomily watched the receding silhouette of the 'Dawn Eagle'.
"Something... elusive," Revan said thoughtfully, not taking his eyes off the transport.
"Something related to young Nomad?" the Count guessed.
"Not entirely. But she is definitely part of what is causing me concern."
"Perhaps you should have gone with her?" Dooku suggested.
Revan shook his head.
"Whatever it is... it doesn't concern me yet. And if I go after her now, the consequences will be much worse than what might happen now," he replied, trying to understand his own feelings.
"Did you have a vision?" the Count clarified.
"Not a vision... a premonition. And it's these manifestations of the Force that are the most difficult. How to understand them correctly, how to decipher and interpret them? The greatest adepts of the Force have struggled with these questions for centuries, but they could come up with nothing but 'faith'."
"Faith? In what?"
"In your own strength, in your own feelings and sensations, in your own mind, in the end."
"So, it all depends on how much you believe in what you feel?" Dooku tried to summarize Revan's lengthy explanation.
"It turns out so. I know it sounds extremely doubtful and vague. But everything related to the Force seems doubtful and vague at first. How long, for example, did you doubt that size doesn't matter for the Force?" Revan chuckled.
"I must admit, I still doubt it," the Count replied with a smile.
"As do all who have not yet completely lost the ability to think rationally. However, I have personally seen Force adepts prove the truth of this postulate. A Hutt, and I myself have sometimes done what I considered impossible."
"And now you believe that you are doing the right thing?"
Revan was silent. He himself would have liked to get an answer to this question. The 'Eagle' had long since disappeared, diving into hyperspace.
"When we arrive at the meeting... have your pilot keep the engines warmed up," the former Sith finally replied.
"Certainly," Dooku agreed.
Tira, meanwhile, was rushing towards the 'Obsidian'. And something was urging her on... a vague sense of unease. She hadn't told her mentor about it, considering it ordinary paranoia, which she suddenly regretted. Revan's lessons on meditation and sensing the Force suddenly came to mind. After all, such anxiety could be a consequence of a warning from this incomprehensible Force, whose influence Tira was noticing more and more clearly in her life.
This was even more frightening. But she was a Mandalorian, which meant she wouldn't let fear cloud her mind! Revan had given her a task, and she would complete it.
During the six-hour journey to the system where the 'Obsidian' was orbiting the fourth planet, Tira spent her time trying to get used to the "inheritance" she had received in the cave on Ilum. So far, it wasn't going very well. Nomad had a difficult relationship with the lightsaber staff. The unfamiliar weapon yielded only through her experience with bladed weapons and Revan's advice. Tira wouldn't even call her level of proficiency acceptable, but she couldn't advance further. And her mentor clearly saw this, which is why the suggestion to replace the staff with a simple single-bladed sword was becoming more frequent.
She absolutely did not want to show weakness to Revan... but without his advice, she couldn't figure out the weapon. Or rather, she could, but not as quickly as she wanted to show. And the most shameful thing was that help could only be obtained from children... or a rival, whose status bordered on that of a sworn enemy. Perhaps the task of being a nanny to a couple of children who were just starting to get used to their lightsaber "toys" wouldn't be so boring?
Then why this anxiety?
The 'Eagle' was piloted by the astromech R2-D2, sent by Revan along with Tira. An observer for an observer? The thought was more paranoid than sane, but she couldn't get rid of it. The droid made such smug beeps.
"Hutt, it seems I just can't be alone with my thoughts," Tira exhaled, admitting defeat to paranoia over common sense.
Fortunately, her reason quickly regained control and prevented irrational fears from driving Nomad to foolishness. Revan had warned her that fear for the gifted could be both a weapon and a threat. She couldn't let it run wild, even subconsciously. The training turned out to be not as simple as it seemed at first. She would have to put in more effort. Tira had no intention of disappointing her Mentor.
The landing in the 'Obsidian's' hangar went automatically, which was not surprising due to the lack of personnel on board the battered cruiser. However, the absence of "greeters" was already alarming. Usually, there were a couple of droids in the hangar to meet "guests."
This time, however, Tira expected to see Risa Farr, who had rushed to meet her "Master." More precisely, Nomad dreamed of seeing the fawning smile slide off Farr's face when she realized that Revan was not on board the 'Eagle'. But Farr was nowhere to be seen.
Attempts to contact Risa via commlink yielded no results. And this was what truly alarmed Tira.
A short run through the ship's labyrinthine corridors to the partially restored bridge revealed five droids busy managing the cruiser's systems. Risa was nowhere to be found.
"Where is Risa Farr?" Tira asked one of the droids.
"Commander Farr is not on board," the mechanical soldier replied indifferently.
"Hutt!" Nomad cursed and hurried to check Revan's other apprentices.
If that bitch did something to the children...
Here, Tira's impulsiveness almost played a cruel trick on her. She shouldn't have forgotten who was left to look after the children. However, the blaster barrel pointed at her Mandalorian visor quickly reminded her.
"Sarcastic remark: Bursting into firearms training without permission is another sophisticated way to commit suicide. Request: Shall I help you end your pathetic existence, meatbag?" HK-47 asked with obvious mockery in his voice.
"I don't have time for jokes. Where is Farr?" Nomad replied, stepping back a pace just in case and preparing to get out of the line of fire.
Such measures wouldn't save her from a shot at point-blank range, especially from the best assassin droid... But psychologically, it made her feel better.
"Indifferent: I have no idea. Caring for the condition of another meatbag in addition to those two is not on my current list of duties," the droid replied, tilting his head slightly towards Anakin and Rina, who were breathing heavily, looking mortally exhausted even by sight.
"The droids say she's not on board," Tira informed the mechanical killer.
HK's optical sensors flickered red several times. The droid seemed to be thinking. He hadn't lowered the manipulator with the blaster.
"Request: Where is the Master?" the forty-seventh asked after a few seconds.
"On Corulag. He has important negotiations. The 'Obsidian' needs to be brought to 'Cienaar' for inspection," Tira blurted out.
"Recommendation: Then that's what you should do."
"You do that. I need to find Farr."
"Request: Is this the Master's order?" the droid asked, tilting his head slightly.
"No. It's my desire," Nomad growled back.
HK clicked his servos, and the blaster barrel shifted slightly, aiming at the gap between the mercenary's chest plate and right shoulder.
"Wary remark: This goes against the Master's order," HK said menacingly.
"I wasn't given such an order. I was supposed to deliver a message, and I delivered it," Tira replied, suppressing the urge to lunge to the side, which would undoubtedly lead to a shootout with HK-47.
The droid was dangerous. Tira was well aware of that. And the danger was not even in his exceptional shooting skills and "art of killing," but in his cunning and resourcefulness, which were uncharacteristic of the AI she knew. Tira might not survive a fight with such an opponent.
"Mockingly: A reasonable approach. For a meatbag," HK said, lowering the blaster barrel to the floor.
Tira nodded gratefully, understanding that the droid had just let her go, and rushed to the hangar. She urgently needed to catch up with Farr. Whatever that crazy creature had planned, Revan and everything he had managed to create were under threat.
"What was that just now?" Anakin, who had taken advantage of the dialogue between Tira and HK to catch his breath, asked the Zabrak girl, who had become his friend.
"It seems the elders couldn't agree on something... And the Mentor sent new instructions," O'Barr replied, tucking a strand of hair that had fallen on her face behind one of her horns.
"Forced comment: The Master orders this ship to be delivered to the planet Corulag," HK suddenly said.
"He orders us?!" the children asked in unison, surprised.
"Optional explanation: You are his only apprentices on board," the assassin droid replied with obvious reluctance and slight dislike in his voice.
"So, we're in charge now?!" Skywalker blurted out.
"And we have to command the ship?" Rina asked admiringly, turning to her friend and partner.
"Our own ship! A battlecruiser!" Anakin turned to the Zabrak girl with a raging flame of enthusiasm in his eyes.
"We're in charge!" the girl supported her friend's mood.
Then it dawned on both of them that they actually still had a nanny... a very dangerous nanny, who had been trying to shoot them for the last couple of hours under the guise of agility and endurance training.
"HK is in charge," the boy said sadly.
"And where is HK?!" Rina asked, surprised.
Looking around, Anakin made sure there was clearly a reason for his partner's surprise. The assassin droid had disappeared somewhere...
"So... it turns out..." O'Barr began.
"We're in charge!" Skywalker picked up.
Meanwhile, Tira had reached the 'Eagle' and, bursting into the control room, ordered R2, who was surprised by this turn of events and had just started a routine system diagnostic after the flight, to lift the transport again and move to the coordinates she would give him.
At first, the astromech even wanted to object... but his curiosity was limited only by his loyalty to the Master. And he hadn't given orders not to obey Nomad or to stay on board the 'Obsidian'... So R2-D2 interrupted the diagnostics and started the engines.
"Beep-boop?" he asked the Mandalorian, inquiring about the destination coordinates.
Tira, although she understood binary poorly, was able to recognize the question and inserted a data chip into the slot on the navigation computer panel.
The resourceful mercenary had placed a tracker beacon on her rival's armor. She had a feeling it would come in handy... although she didn't expect it so soon.
Nomad understood that she should inform Revan about everything, but the desire to finally deal with Farr personally and without any restrictions from the former Jedi outweighed common sense. Anger is a bad advisor... but Tira somehow completely forgot her Mentors' lessons at that moment. Farr had provoked her. Nomad had tolerated her only at Revan's request. But now the killer of the one who had replaced the young exile of the Chiss race's parents would answer for everything!
The tracker signal disappeared as soon as Tira activated the tracking. Either Farr had discovered the beacon, or she had gone somewhere from where the signal simply couldn't penetrate. The last coordinates from which the signal was received were still tracked. The planet Moraband, marked on the 'Eagle's' maps under another name - Korriban. To the question of where the name came from, R2 replied that it was personally corrected by the Master. It seemed to be something from Revan's past, about which Tira, to her shame, knew criminally little. Yes, she had heard Mandalorian legends about the "Butcher" who brought doom to the Highest Mandalore many times, and they even contained quite truthful information. But the life of her new Mentor... and chosen one... was much richer in events than the Mandalorians knew. The Republic archives seemed to have been wiped clean, leaving only fragments of information about Revan's return to the Jedi Order, who made an invaluable contribution to the victory over Darth Malak's Empire. Mitra told stories about Bastila Shan... but they also lacked details. Only general facts and nothing more... personal.
However, what difference did it make what name the planet where Farr was hiding bore? To plunge a vibro-knife into her throat, you don't need to know the history of the stones that will be stained with blood. Anger clouded her mind and prevented her thoughts from straying from her only goal... as if fueled by something from outside. If Tira had paid more attention in Revan's lessons, she would have been able to distinguish the quiet "whisper" of the Dark Side in her emotions, which was increasingly influencing the Mandalorian's thoughts.
Nomad didn't remember how long she spent in the cabin... how long the flight lasted... or how many times she recalled in detail the death of her first Mandalorian mentor. Tira only woke up when the 'Eagle' shook slightly upon landing.
Silently, completely ignoring the astromech's squeaking, Nomad took her weapon and left the transport.
Risa's ship was found nearby. This meant that Tira was not mistaken about the coordinates. Moreover, Farr was still here!
A bolt from the carbine she had brought in addition to her twin blasters flew into a shadow that flashed to the side. Despite the seething rage within her, Nomad did not forget to scan her surroundings. The local fanged creature turned out to be resilient and only calmed down after the third shot.
Only it wasn't alone. Obviously, the local predators hunted in packs, and two more clawed beasts, similar to K'at hounds, attacked the Mandalorian from the sides. Only these were black as night, and horned...
Miraculously avoiding the attack, Tira shot a net at one of them. The creature dodged, but fell under a shot from the carbine. The second spent aiming cost Nomad a shoulder plate torn off by the beast's fanged maw.
"Ah, you horned bastard!" Tira roared and switched the carbine to automatic fire mode.
Shot after shot went wide. The monster moved quickly and chaotically, avoiding the deadly projectiles. Tira dodged a new lunge from the beast with a roll. The creature ignored the small gift left where the Mandalorian had stood a moment ago. And it was in vain.
The explosion of a stun grenade disoriented the monster long enough for a couple of precise shots. The last beast was finished.
After catching her breath after the brief fight, Nomad returned to surveying the area.
There were no traces of Risa in the sand, which was not surprising given the wind. However, the only place where one could take shelter from the storm, besides the empty shuttle, was a strange cave.
"Don't go in!" a distant cry was heard.
Tira looked around for the source of such a desperate warning, but there was no one around... if not for a couple more creatures approaching from the distant dunes.
Deciding that she had simply imagined the vaguely familiar voice, Nomad took a step forward.
The place where Farr had presumably taken shelter resembled a network of caves... but only at first. Due to the lack of lighting, Tira had to switch her visor to infrared spectrum recognition mode. And what was her surprise when she discovered a strangely moving lichen on the walls of the narrowing passage, whose barely visible outgrowths stretched towards Nomad. Accustomed not to go near unknown plants since her training on Dxun, Tira unleashed a stream of flame from her wrist flamethrower, burning out the suspicious flora.
The thought that in pursuit of someone, one should not advertise one's presence too much, and a stream of fire not only hints but shouts about it, came to Tira's mind too late. Approximately at the moment when she felt an invisible grip on her body that prevented her from moving. The Force pulled her out of the opening, straight into the view of Risa Farr, who was clearly in a bad mood. And it wasn't even that she looked quite battered, but rather that she had to be distracted from something important. Behind the hated opponent, Nomad saw a passage into some hall where danger... and a grave chill... could be felt with her very skin.
"Well, well, well... Did the curious fool finally come to meet her death?" Farr rasped, her face hidden under a damaged copy of Revan's mask.
Tira hung in the air directly in front of Risa, straining with all her might to break free. She saw no point in answering Farr. That wasn't why she had come here.
"I expected someone to come for me, but I leaned more towards that damned assassin droid. Especially when I found the beacon hidden behind my boot strap. Turns out it's yours? Did you hide it while I was wiping the floor with you during sparring?" Risa snorted maliciously and coughed.
Tira, meanwhile, completely ignoring her opponent's words, focused on remembering Revan's instructions on handling the Force. She had to get out! Push this Hutt scum away from her!
And the Force responded to Nomad's surge of hatred. A radial Force push spread out in all directions like a shockwave, knocking Farr off her feet and freeing Nomad from her opponent's grip. Still falling, Tira drew her blasters and opened fire on the fallen Risa. It was a shame her carbine was still in the corridor; its power and rate of fire would have been useful now. Despite Farr quickly recovering, a couple of shots still hit her. One even found a gap in her armor, making the girl cry out in pain and drop to one knee. However, a ignited lightsaber blocked all subsequent shots and reflected them back at Tira, forcing the blue-skinned Mandalorian to dodge the fire. A couple of daggers thrown by Nomad were intercepted by the same blade.
An explosion erupted!
One of the daggers turned out to be a disguised grenade. The projectile's handle exploded the moment the crimson lightsaber cut through its casing.
Farr was thrown backward, but the Force, affecting the trajectory of the shrapnel, saved her from severe damage. With an angry roar, Risa sprang to her feet and almost fell for Tira's vibro-knife. The crimson blade clashed with the short knife blade with a screech, not cutting through it, to its owner's surprise. Risa responded to the kick of the armored boot with a Force push, causing the opponents to fly in opposite directions.
"A beskar knife? Did you kill one of your own to get it?" Farr said mockingly, familiar with Mandalorian traditions and customs not by hearsay.
"A gift from the Master you killed!" Tira roared and lunged at Farr.
"May the ancestors judge him," the Sith said mockingly, further enraging the young Chiss.
This time, Risa was ready for the attack and easily parried Nomad's honed but predictable strikes. She was well acquainted with this "Mandalorian" fighting style, as she had been trained in the same movements in her clan.
Revan had warned Tira that she was still far from Risa's level... She shouldn't have gone into close combat...
But these sound thoughts came too late to Nomad's mind, which was gradually clearing from anger. With three powerful blows, clearly using the Force, Farr disarmed the other Mandalorian and sent her flying towards the corridor. The crimson blade followed.
And before Tira could find a point of support to get up, which was not easy with her injuries, the blade grazed the rocks above her head. Risa wasn't aiming at the girl... she damaged the cave's arch and the exit.
Extending both hands forward, Farr brought down the stone arch directly onto Tira, who had barely managed to twitch forward.
The blue-skinned Mandalorian howled in pain as the heavy stones knocked her down and pinned her to the floor. The armor creaked but withstood the weight of the rock, which threatened to break Nomad's bones and crush her in the end.
"Even weaker than I thought," Farr snorted.
Tira tried to move, but only her left arm remained free. Her right arm, bent at the elbow, prevented the huge boulder from crushing her back with its full weight. Her legs were tightly pressed by the slab that had fallen from the ceiling and, by a miracle, were not broken.
"What were you counting on coming here for?" Risa asked in a hoarse voice, slowly approaching her defeated opponent.
Farr was only a few steps away, and Tira, realizing she had nothing left to lose, risked reaching her opponent with her only remaining weapon. She couldn't move from her spot, but her left arm was free, and the distance between the stones was just enough to use this trump card. She just needed to wait for the moment.
One step, another step. No more than a meter and a half apart. Just a little more.
"Let me die, but I'll die like a Mandalorian. And you'll be remembered as a traitor who ruined her clan," Tira said, voicing the rumors she had managed to find out about Farr, the last of her clan.
The words hit their mark, making Risa flinch and lean forward slightly. The crimson sword, which was in the way, was the only thing stopping an immediate attack. But this problem, if the provocation succeeded, would soon be resolved.
"For a Mandalorian, losing their helmet or armor in battle is the greatest shame," Farr said haughtily, intending to hurt Tira's emotions.
Nomad understood what Risa intended to do... and she didn't care. Moreover, she was seeking it herself with her words. Traditions could be sacrificed... especially for victory. Her mother had taught her that... back in the days of the Dominion, when the future seemed bright. She was not only a Mandalorian but also a Chiss. And now, it was the part of her that remained in the forests of Dxun that had the honor of delivering the decisive blow.
Tira felt something sharply pull her helmet upward, causing pain from the clasps digging into her neck. Finally, they gave way, and the blue-skinned woman's helmet flew off, revealing the smiling face of Aru'Tir'Anude.
As soon as Risa caught the helmet that jumped into her hands, Tira threw her hand forward, and the lightsaber staff, torn from her belt by the Force, slid into her palm. Without lingering in her hand for a moment, the blade flew towards its target, releasing glowing blades as it went. The weapon was aimed precisely at Farr's mask, and she wouldn't have been able to dodge it from that distance. But somehow, miraculously, she managed to react and hook the second blade of the staff with her sword, thus deflecting the blow. She didn't completely avoid damage, but Tira's desperate attack, instead of killing, only slashed through the mask and left a deep wound on Risa's cheek.
"Bitch!" Farr roared, grabbing her face with her free hand.
"You will answer for all the suffering you have caused," Nomad hissed, rejoicing in this small... and possibly last, victory.
"What do you know about suffering?!" the Sith turned to Tira, removing her damaged mask.
And what was hidden beneath it... If she hadn't known exactly who was in front of her, Tira would have had great difficulty recognizing Risa Farr in that grayed and seemingly melted face. Her eyes, burning gold and framed by dark circles, were sunken, giving the impression of bright embers in empty sockets. Her skin, crisscrossed with dark veins, was the color of gray ash and hung loosely, like the face of an ancient old woman. The scorched wound from the staff only added to this terrifying image. And her hair... only now did Nomad notice that Risa's dark hair had turned half gray.
"What..." Tira tried to ask, but the copy of Revan's mask, thrown directly in her face, silenced her.
"It's all your fault!" Farr shouted, her voice breaking.
Nomad tried to blink and focus on her opponent, which was difficult with a bleeding eyebrow.
"If it weren't for you, Revan would have been mine long ago!" Risa continued.
The last statement almost made Tira laugh. Did this crazy bitch really not understand that even if she were the only woman in the galaxy, she had no chance of getting Revan into her bed? Tira remembered her Master's reaction to Farr's attempts to seduce him.
"I have bad news for you," she finally said with a smirk.
Risa, who was still rambling about how Nomad's presence was hindering her, fell silent, turning her terrifying, burning eyes to the blue-skinned Mandalorian.
"Revan doesn't care about any woman except one. And she, unfortunately for you, has been dead for a long time," Nomad stated, smiling brazenly at her rival.
But the words didn't faze her at all. Her reaction was completely different from what was expected. Instead of a burst of anger, Risa burst out laughing.
"Oh, I know that! And soon, this very fact will help me," Risa said with a mad smile.
"What are you talking about..."
"Since Revan needs his dear Bastila so much, I WILL BECOME HER!" Farr declared dramatically, spreading her arms wide.
It became clear to Tira that Risa had completely lost her mind. Had her obsession with the image of Revan she had invented taken such a strong hold of her?
"What are you saying? Have you gone completely mad? Because of passion for a man?" Tira tried to appeal to Farr's reason.
"Passion?" Risa tilted her head to the side.
A chilling, hoarse laugh of madness echoed through the cave.
"You think I need Revan for carnal pleasures? Or do I need his love?! Hahaha!" the Sith laughed again.
Tira no longer understood what was happening. Farr behaved like an obsessed fan of Revan... but her last words contradicted this image.
"All I need from Revan is his child. A vessel that will surpass him in strength and power. A vessel that will become mine!"
"What are you talking about..."
"Imagine my disappointment when, despite all my efforts, my Master told me that I would never reach the heights of true Lords. Unlucky to be born with a body that can only withstand a fraction of the Force's energy... To have talent and ambition, but no opportunity to realize them... Can your meager mind even comprehend the extent of my anger and disappointment?!"
Risa raised her hand, and a branching lightning bolt shot towards Tira. The discharge made her howl in pain and almost deprived the blue-skinned Mandalorian of consciousness.
"See?" Farr's words seemed to come through a fog.
Focusing her gaze on her opponent again, Nomad saw her looking at her palm.
"A little bit of Force by my true master's standards... and the body is ready to crumble to dust."
"I won't sympathize," Tira said, breathing heavily from the effects of the Force lightning.
"You should have. After all, it was your body that was supposed to be my salvation... But I was in too much of a hurry, not finishing my training. And your Mandalorian friends turned out to be much tougher than I thought," Farr said with a smirk and a grimace of pain in her cheek.
Tira swallowed the lump that rose in her throat. So... Risa had come for her then... to what? To take over her body?
Farr's words sounded like delirium. After all, how could one take over someone else's body? Not figuratively, but literally?
"Yes, my Master shared his knowledge with me on how to overcome the unfortunate drawback that is my body. I just needed to find a more suitable vessel, as the greatest Sith Lords have done before me!"
Risa looked at Tira and shook her head.
"I can't believe I chose such a weakling. Although the Force in you is strong, you have no idea how to use it. The body needs to be trained to interact with the Force. This takes years. And those who train from childhood are always stronger. That's why I decided that my ideal vessel would be a child! The strongest from the strongest!"
The picture in Tira's mind began to slowly form. Risa had tried to capture her to use her body and, apparently, become stronger... to be able to use the Force better. But the Nomads had rescued their foundling, and Farr had to retreat. And now... she had decided not just to find a new body... but to give birth to one? From Revan?
"I spent years finding the necessary knowledge for my plan. Did you know, for example, that children of the gifted are not always born gifted? The Force may not be passed on to the descendants of even the most powerful adepts. This was the case with Revan's son, Vaner. But an enterprising woman named Jessa Willsaam, who set out to have a gifted child with her beloved Sith Lord, found a way to ensure that the child inherited all the power of its parents. In her writings, she described both the ritual and how to greatly enhance the abilities of an unborn child. And she succeeded! Or rather, almost succeeded. Her child, whose father was the 'Wrath of the Emperor' himself, did indeed possess a potential that could be felt even in the womb. But it was not destined to be born. Jessa died a month before giving birth."
"And you decided to use Revan as... a donor?" Tira asked with disgust.
"Who, if not the one whom even my Master spoke of as the strongest among the gifted, is worthy of becoming the father... of the future me? The Force sent me a vision of his child. She will be beautiful! And I must become her, no matter the cost!"
"He won't even look at you..."
"But he will look at his beloved Bastila," Farr smirked.
"Bastila is dead!" Tira reminded her, deciding that the insane Risa intended to transfer herself into the body of Revan's deceased wife.
But her remains had long since turned to dust?
"The easier it will be to summon her spirit and bind it to my frail body," Risa said, stretching her mouth even wider into a sinister and mad smile, causing the scorched wound on her cheek to bleed slightly.
"What are you talking about?!"
"Oh, you'll see! I'll leave you alive so you can witness my triumph with your own eyes!"
"Revan will recognize the forgery!"
"And it won't be a forgery. It will be his dear Bastila, down to the last particle. And until the very birth, no one will know that two souls are hidden in 'our' body."
Nomad almost blurted out that she, Tira Nomad, would know... But Farr beat her to it.
"Almost no one. Don't get too happy. You won't get out of here. And, so you don't try to stop me..."
Risa pulled a small truncated pyramid from her worn pouch. The unknown device soared above her palm and, after a few clicks, opened its side panels like wings. The next moment, something resembling a blaster barrel extended from the center of the artifact, and a shimmering Force barrier surrounded the device itself.
"A gift from my Master. An ancient guardian, created back in the Empire. It is immune to the Force but can detect attempts to call upon it for help. And it's quite enough to burn a hole in your head if you try to get out from under the rubble."
Already turning towards the entrance of the hall, where the ritual was supposed to take place, Risa suddenly turned and pulled the staff Tira had thrown earlier into her hand.
"Thank you for her weapon. It will be easier to find a response in the Force. I'll deal with you right after the ritual. Don't go anywhere," Farr smirked and left Nomad to rage powerlessly under the debris.
Tira refused to give up. Especially now, when the threat to Revan turned out to be much more real than she thought. It was one thing to ignore a beautiful woman trying to seduce you, and quite another to resist someone you wanted to return with all your soul. And Tira had no doubt that Farr would succeed. Everything related to Bastila Shan evoked an uncontrollable response from Revan. He had even started looking at her, Tira, differently when he learned that she had obtained dear Bastila's staff. It was unpleasant to realize... but in love and war, all means are fair.
Her legs were pinned by the slab, her right arm was holding back a stone, and she couldn't move it. The bracers on her left arm were damaged, so none of the hidden devices on her free hand worked. As soon as she tried to concentrate to move the stones with the Force, Tira screamed in pain. The cursed ancient Sith flying droid fired at the stone above her head. A fragment scratched her cheek.
"Last warning, huh?" Nomad hissed.
The droid made no sound, showing no indication that it had even heard the question.
It seemed Risa hadn't lied when she said the little bastard could detect attempts to use the Force. So... she'd have to do without it... she hadn't trained much anyway.
A cautious glance at her right hand gave her hope for salvation. The harpoon hidden in the bracer was intact, meaning the Mandalorian still had some weapon at her disposal. The blasters were found at different ends of the cave at a considerable distance. All that remained was the small matter of... getting out from under the rubble... Damn it...
In the hall where Risa had gone, something began to happen. Tira felt with her gut that the Force was raging in that room, concentrating incredible power. It became cold... and scary. Adding a special piquancy was the fact that Nomad knew Farr was summoning the spirit of a dead woman... essentially, a ghost. And not like Mitra, who, according to her own words, couldn't completely die and merge with the Force until the end. Bastila had been dead for several millennia and had not sought to return to the mortal world, having found peace.
She had to get out and stop this madness! But how?!
Suddenly, the cave wall on the left exploded in a fan of debris and stone chips. The Sith drone reacted and turned towards the new threat. Two crimson blaster bolts flew out of the dust cloud, shredding the ancient guardian into pieces with precise hits.
"Interesting observation: Thousands of years have passed, and these weaklings still haven't acquired decent protection," a synthesized voice from HK-47 sounded.
Tira had never been so glad to see an assassin droid as she was at that moment.
"HK! Help!" Nomad shouted, calling her ally.
The droid, with two blasters in its hands, surveyed the cave, not rushing to approach the Mandalorian.
Then it fixed its gaze on the doors to the hall where the ritual was taking place, then looked at Tira. After blinking its optical sensors a few times, HK seemed to let out a heavy sigh and lowered its weapons.
"Disappointed: Priority is protecting a talentless bag of meat that couldn't even handle a novice," the droid grumbled barely audibly and moved towards Nomad, although, as Tira suspected, it would have gladly gone into the hall and gutted Farr.
"Faster! We must not let her complete her plan!" Nomad shouted.
HK merely nodded and began clearing the blockage that prevented Nomad from standing up. The droid ignored all her pleas to leave her and deal with Risa. It had a Master's order with the highest priority.
It took HK only a few minutes to free the trapped Nomad, but she felt time slipping away with every second.
As soon as the last stone holding her back was removed, Nomad, ignoring the pain, rushed into the hall. HK ran after her.
Something incredible was happening inside the room. A real hurricane raged in the center of the hall, scattering stones and dust and swirling like a tornado. The patterns on the floor glowed naturally and occasionally emitted discharges like lightning, causing deafening thunderclaps to echo through the room. Farr was at the epicenter of the storm, suspended above the floor with her arms outstretched, and directly in front of her, a woman's figure was weaving as if from air and streams of light. Tira didn't know what was happening, but she could make very accurate assumptions. And therefore, she had to intervene immediately!
There were also those strange guardian droids here, but HK immediately dealt with them. It would have shot Risa too... but...
"Irritated remark: You're in the line of fire!" the droid shouted, trying to get out from behind Nomad, but constantly colliding with the debris scattered around by the hurricane.
Tira, for some reason, avoided the blows of the raging elements, running forward as if through a corridor between the raging streams of wind.
"What?! No! Get away!" Farr screamed when Nomad slammed into her at full speed and threw her aside.
A flash of light blinded Tira, and the next moment, pain pierced her entire body, and the world went dark, dragging her consciousness into a merciful oblivion.
Risa Farr slowly got to her feet. She didn't know how much time had passed while she was recovering. The fury of the hurricane caused by the ritual had already passed, leaving only traces of destruction.
The ritual...
The ritual had failed! And all because of the damned Nomad!
Risa surveyed the ritual circle, in the center of which the hateful culprit of the failure was found! Nomad was also recovering and moving weakly.
Grabbing her lightsaber from her belt, Risa lunged at Tira with an angry roar, intending to vent all her fury on the blue-skinned woman.
And what Farr did not expect was for Nomad to react to her cry and jump to her feet as if she were not injured at all. And the yellow lightsaber staff that met the crimson blade in its path, sliding into Tira's hand in a fraction of a second, was a complete surprise.
"What..." Farr whispered, seeing her opponent's gaze.
Arrogant and self-confident, with clear dislike... but without a hint of fear. As if Nomad were looking at an insect, not an opponent she had never managed to defeat in battle.
"Sith," Tira said contemptuously and pushed Risa away with a powerful Force push.
Farr couldn't believe her eyes... Tira's movements, behavior, and even facial expressions had changed drastically, and the lightsaber lay in her hand as if she had been born with it. Could it be...
"The ritual..." Risa whispered in shock, realizing who was now approaching her, playing with the staff.
In a desperate attempt to prove to herself that she was wrong, Farr lunged at Nomad. Blow after blow from the crimson sword... missed. "Tira" dodged the attacks playfully. Then the staff would parry her sword, and then a counter-attack would follow with the second blade. Risa made the only decision to avoid a terrible wound and jumped back. But her opponent didn't let her break the distance and, in mid-flight, caught her with the Force, pulling her back under a new whirlwind of strikes from the golden staff.
Ten seconds... That's exactly how long Farr managed to hold on...
The crimson blade was knocked out of her hands, and the hilt was cut in half right in the air. A Force push slammed Risa's back into the stone.
"I don't know who you are, but you were foolish enough to attack me, Sith," said... Nomad?
Except her voice was much more confident and differed in tone from Tira's high young voice. And the accent... a clear accent of the inhabitants of the Core Worlds closest to Coruscant.
In a fit of powerless rage at the realization of her failure and how the ritual had ended, Risa, with a cry turning into sobs, unleashed a stream of Force lightning at "Nomad," realizing that this was possibly her last attack.
"So, you have chosen your fate," the... stranger said, blocking the lightning with the staff's blade.