Tira Nomad never considered herself weak, neither in spirit nor in body. Aru'Tir'Anude had gone through the harsh school of the Dominion's caste system, which had hardened her character and taught her to hide her true feelings from others. Military academy had honed her mind, teaching her to see vulnerabilities not only in combat formations but also in herself, in the enemy, in logic, and in ways of thinking.
The Mandalorians of Dxun had completed what the Chiss had started, and allowed the foundling girl to learn everything a Mando'ade should know. Thousands of years of culture, built around war and challenging one's own skills, Tira absorbed like beskar absorbs the heat of a forge, allowing her mentors to forge her into a true Mandalorian warrior.
Choosing the path of a mercenary, Tira set out to wander the galaxy, not forgetting, however, her duty to the clan that had sheltered her and given her a new meaning in life. And everything in her life was going quite well... until recently.
She had known about the gifted, sensitive to the mystical Force, before. The Jedi Order alone, whom the Mandalorians called sorcerers, was worth something. Tira also knew about the extraordinary abilities these gifted possessed. What's more, she had even had to face some of them in combat several times... and defeat two of them. It hadn't come to murder, but the Mandalorian had given these representatives of the Order a good thrashing.
However, everything went awry with that seemingly trivial contract on Tatooine, received from Jabba the Hutt. Starting with the fact that the target she was supposed to teach a lesson to turned out to be a Jedi. And not just any Jedi, but one she hadn't encountered before. He clearly knew how to fight Mandalorians, as he had demonstrated to her on that rooftop. Tira only managed to escape because the opponent did not wish her death.
And this meeting became fateful not only for the mercenary herself but also for her entire clan... no, for all of Mandalore.
It was in this man that Tira saw a chance for her clansmen to escape the trap they had fallen into through the efforts of the Death Watch.
Yes... Tira had never felt weak... until she met this man.
Revan. The most dangerous and most respected enemy of all Mandalorians...
Events were happening around him in which such dangerous and powerful beings participated that the mercenary involuntarily began to doubt herself and her own skills. It was no joke that some droid from Revan's entourage, assembled thousands of years ago, surpassed her in all respects as a mercenary and warrior!
Tira saw firsthand what Jedi were capable of. Real Jedi, not those she had encountered before. Those whose appearance on the battlefield meant the swift victory of their allies. Those like Revan and those he could talk about endlessly, lifting the veil over the secrets of his eventful past.
And Tira reached for this power. She was fascinated by it. She hoped to get closer one day...
But now she had been wiped across the floor for several hours straight. She had lost count of how many times she had ended up on her back and was trying to focus her gaze on the blurry light spots of the lamps embedded in the ceiling.
"Well, if you remembered and reproduced the movements correctly, then Risa demonstrated a good Soresu base to you - the foundation of foundations when fighting an opponent armed with a blaster. I hasten to congratulate you, you even managed to learn something, so we'll consider that you got an idea of the 'Third Form'," Revan's voice sounded above Tira.
The Mandalorian turned her head with difficulty and focused her gaze on the man in Mandalorian armor with a deactivated lightsaber in his hand.
"Glad..." Nomad squeezed out, "I'm overflowing with joy... it's even spilling out... Or is it blood?"
Revan chuckled.
"More like sweat. You definitely don't have any wounds," he said, approaching closer.
"Then why do I feel like a herd of rancors has run over me?" Tira croaked.
"Lack of practice is showing. Need help getting up?" Revan offered.
"Better shoot me..."
"For that, go to HK," the man chuckled and still helped the girl up.
With a quiet groan, Tira got to her feet and, leaning on the offered hand, hobbled to the crates stacked against one of the walls.
"What strikes me more is the very fact that I feel so bad! Mandalorian armor, and especially the helmet, is designed to absorb kinetic energy from impacts and reduce damage. A Mandalorian can literally be slammed headfirst into a stone wall, and he'll just blink and continue fighting. And I, apparently, managed to get a concussion," Tira moaned, sitting on one of the crates.
"Hmm, yes, sorry. It wasn't intentional. In my past life, I was used to strengthening my body and blows with the energy of the Force. It comes out almost unconsciously," Revan said, slightly embarrassed, realizing that he could have easily injured his student if their training had been a little more... heated.
Fortunately, during the sparring, Revan hardly used his lightsaber, only deflecting some of Nomad's attacks with it. Most of the blows were delivered with an open palm, rather pushing the mercenary away than truly trying to injure her. Only the pushes turned out to be a bit stronger than expected.
"Yeah, not intentionally. If you train the little one like that too, I feel sorry for him... Although, if exactly such training helped him cope, including with me, then let's continue in the same spirit... as soon as I stop feeling nauseous," Tira said, taking off her helmet and rubbing her temples.
"The first thing Anakin learned was to strengthen his body. So he endures such training more easily," Revan said with a sly smile.
"And teach me first?" the Mandalorian exclaimed indignantly, but grabbing her side, she tempered her ardor.
"You decided to have a training fight with a trained Sith acolyte right away, so I thought you had a sufficient level of preparation... And that you were aware of the consequences," Revan's gaze, directed straight at Tira, who had suddenly become gloomy, grew harsher with each word.
The Mandalorian mercenary grumbled something inarticulate in response.
"Do you even understand that Risa is currently significantly superior to you in terms of preparation? For her, using the Force in combat is like breathing," Revan said in a strict, instructive tone.
The former Jedi took his lightsaber from his belt.
"And your armor won't save you against this blade. If it had more beskar, it would be another matter, but such armor must be earned, right?" Revan asked, tossing the hilt of his weapon in his palm.
Although beskar, or "Mandalorian iron," was processed by Mandalorians, not everyone could afford a full set of armor. Over the years of bloody wars in which the people of Mandalore had participated in one way or another, beskar reserves had dwindled. The armor of fallen warriors passed to the victors as trophies, or was even destroyed along with their owners, as on Malachor. Revan well remembered that there were plenty of such trophies in the Temple warehouses after the war. They should still be there... if the Sith hadn't taken everything when they stormed the Temple.
"I have inserts of phrik in my bracers. Enough to block blows," the Mandalorian grumbled.
"Bracers that would cost more than the entire armor. Phrik is not a cheap material," Revan thought to himself, momentarily wondering where the girl got such an accessory.
"You won't win a fight by staying on the defensive," he said instead of the question that interested him.
"I know that! I've been told that since childhood! If I had one of your swords, it would be different!" Nomad said angrily.
Revan rolled his eyes. How often he had heard this phrase. Both in the past and in the present, there were always those who thought it was all about the weapon. As if, as soon as they picked up a lightsaber, they would become invulnerable. Most often, this affected some mercenaries and soldiers who, due to circumstances, had to fight a Jedi, as well as, strangely enough, younglings. Only Tira could not be mentally classified as a youngling. After all, credit had to be given to her training and accumulated experience. The problem was that Tira was not a naive mercenary who considered a lightsaber the cornerstone of all Jedi power. Her behavior rather indicated that the girl felt shame for her loss and was simply looking for an excuse, mentally clinging to the rumors spread by her peers.
This could be worked with.
"Here," Revan handed Nomad his lightsaber without further ado.
"What? What?!" Tira didn't understand for the first few seconds, and then stared at the offered weapon with a shocked gaze.
"Take the sword and try to land at least one blow on me. I will be unarmed, but don't be afraid of hurting me... you won't succeed," Revan got up from the crate, having placed the sword in Tira's hands, and headed for the arena.
For a few moments, the Mandalorian took time to process what had happened, then, with surprise, discovered that the hilt fit very comfortably in her hand.
Her finger found the activator button. With a quiet hiss and hum, a silver plasma blade appeared, ready to chop and slash at the command of the one who held it.
Nomad carefully got to her feet, not taking her eyes off the shining sword with a barely discernible greenish tint at the base of the blade.
"Try to swing it – you'll immediately feel the difference from your usual weapon," Revan advised.
Tira nodded and made a short upward swing, causing her to falter slightly due to the sharply changed balance, but she quickly adjusted. The next swing looked much more confident. Tira did not use the Force to compensate for the gyroscopic effect of the plasma loop, as Anakin and any other gifted person would. Instead, the girl shifted her own center of gravity, working with the blade as if it had a large weight with improper balance.
"A little clumsy, but quite effective," Revan noted mentally.
Tira, meanwhile, had more or less mastered the weapon and entered the arena.
"Attack, if you're ready," Revan suggested.
As he had said a few minutes earlier, the former Jedi intended to defend himself with his bare hands and even showed his empty palms, although his second blade rested on his belt, and he could reach it in an extreme case. This gave Tira a little confidence. Training was training, but she didn't want to hurt Revan.
A swing of the silver blade, from which the former Jedi easily dodged to the side. A new lunge and an attempt to make a horizontal strike with a reverse motion of the blade.
The hand with the weapon froze a few centimeters from Revan's stomach. But not by the owner's will.
"What's happening?" Tira hissed, unable to move her hands.
"The Force allows you to affect living objects as well. It doesn't matter how large the object is, living or not, how far away it is – the Force doesn't care about these nuances. It only waits for a command to fulfill the will of the gifted. And if you have enough self-discipline, concentration, and imagination to convey your desire, the Force will respond to the call and fulfill it. Remember this, and try again."
Revan released Tira, allowing the Mandalorian to assume a stance again and make another attempt to attack.
Nomad managed only two swings before she felt something tightly constrict her neck, preventing her from breathing. The effect lasted only a moment, but it was enough for the girl to lose her step and fall under another blow with an open palm to the torso.
"When fighting a gifted person, remember – if your opponent doesn't have a weapon in their hands, it doesn't mean they can't reach you."
Revan helped the girl up.
"I will no longer use the Force in attack. So, show me everything you can," the former Jedi gestured for Tira to begin a new attack.
And Nomad accepted the invitation, lunging forward. The weapon was unfamiliar and unruly, constantly trying to break free from her hands, yet the girl displayed true miracles of coordination, reacting in time to the shifting balance in the blade. Revan truly didn't attack in response, mostly dodging or landing preemptive strikes on Tyra's arms, not allowing the mercenary to make a full swing.
But then the girl managed to catch her mentor, suddenly switching the sword to her other hand and changing the direction of the attack... or did she just imagine it...
"What the..." Tyra froze, staring at Revan's hand, which was gripping... the blade of a lightsaber.
With a hiss, spots and flashes appeared on the deceptively monolithic blade, signs of the plasma loop's destruction. Revan clenched his fist sharply, causing the lightsaber blade to completely destabilize, and the emitter shut off with a hissing click, unable to withstand the overload.
"What was that?!" Tyra exclaimed in shock, not taking her eyes off Revan's slightly reddened palm.
"Tutaminis. With sufficient concentration, it allows one to absorb or dissipate energy upon touch, negating its effect on living tissue. It's a complex technique, but extremely useful, especially if you don't have another weapon at hand."
Apparently, the Mandalorian was surprised by the capabilities of the Jedi, which were rarely heard of from her colleagues.
"With this small demonstration, I wanted to show you that the weapon of a Jedi or any other Force-sensitive is far from a lightsaber. Our weapon is the Force. It is also our armor, our helper, and... our stimulant. The saber is merely a tool, convenient only because it can conduct Force flows through a focusing crystal, allowing it to be used not only as a piercing and cutting weapon," Revan explained again, returning to his lecturing tone.
"I understood. "Train more, or a mere boy might beat you to death with an iron stick, let alone some sluts with laser swords"," Nomad retorted, trying to hide her shame behind insolence and grimaces.
Revan ignored the light and almost childish démarche, continuing to explain the girl's mistakes in combat, while also complimenting her skills.
"You have a good base of skills with melee weapons, and you adapt quickly. Already, during our little training session, you tried to reproduce the techniques you saw earlier from the 'Soresu' form. However, without practice and the use of the Force, even a light one, these movements look clumsy and rather hinder you. Therefore, for now, focus on meditation and try to feel the Force flows around you. It won't be difficult to do this aboard the 'Obsidian'. And perhaps, you really should start practicing with a real lightsaber right away, so as not to break your established foundation, but adapt it to a new weapon. Although... you won't be able to assemble a saber yourself, no matter how much you want to. You don't have enough experience manipulating matter through the Force to hold all the parts together. But, I'll think about what can be done," Revan mused, scratching his chin.
Tyra nodded silently, nervously gripping the hilt of her new mentor's lightsaber and trying to control her emotions.
This was a failure... This whole training session...
Never before had Tyra felt so... pathetic? She had shown her complete inability to fight back against someone of Revan's level. Even Hutt, even the damned Farr, were barely a match for her. Nomad, however, clung to the hope that by using all her capabilities and experience, she could still defeat this conceited Mandalorian. But before that, she should ask Fett how he managed to defeat those Jedi with his bare hands... Hmm... and that droid, HK-47, is quite good at countering Force-sensitives. She needed to get the camera recordings from the Duchess's palace and try to analyze his actions. It was clear that a living person wouldn't be able to replicate the machine's protocols, but she could at least understand the principle and order of actions.
Revan, meanwhile, continued to speak, noting that his student had drifted off into her own thoughts. However, the latter's mood was gradually improving, so the newly appointed mentor decided not to delve into Tyra's soul right now. The girl was clearly reconfiguring her worldview, trying to understand her place among the monsters that inhabited the galaxy. And, it seemed, the Mandalorian mercenary was falling lower and lower in the rankings... Perhaps she shouldn't have put her against Anakin? After all, it's a significant blow to one's self-esteem when you're defeated by a child...
"Thank you for the lesson, mentor," Tyra said quickly, pulling Revan out of his thoughts.
The former Jedi didn't have time to reply. The Mandalorian chose to take her leave without waiting for further instructions.
"Well, it seems she has decided something for herself," Revan thought, noting Nomad's sharp emotional uplift.
Mentally, the former Jedi had already devised a training program for the Mandalorian... as well as for the second Mandalorian, who had chosen the path of a Sith. And Maul was progressing rapidly, but still needed his technique adjusted... And Anakin stood apart, confidently absorbing knowledge, not dividing it into light and dark.
How to find time for everyone?!
Perhaps he should divide the students into pairs? Give those who already have some experience the task of bringing up those who are still untrained.
"No, bad idea," Revan shook his head.
Risa and Maul were significantly stronger than Anakin and Tyra. Not to mention that both acolytes were followers of Sith teachings, which could distort Skywalker's worldview... and it would be difficult for Nomad, given her history with Risa. Besides, Anakin needs a partner of his age group to avoid technical defects in mastering the lightsaber.
On the other hand, Maul and Risa could train together. Farr was stronger, but for a Zabrak accustomed to the harsh trials of Dathomir, it would only be a plus.
"Master, we are approaching the Tatoo system," Risa's voice came through the intercom.
"Excellent. Hide the 'Obsidian' at the system's border and prepare the 'Eagle' for departure," Revan gave orders.
It was time to pay a visit to Jabba. The Hutt had sent messages several times with an urgent request for a meeting. Moreover, the last two came from the Crimson Talons... first from Tatooine, and then from Coruscant. The overgrown slug clearly wanted to talk in person, otherwise he would have contacted Revan via holocall long ago.
Refusing would be impolite.
Revan planned to take only HK with him, although he wouldn't have refused the help of Tyra. Nomad knew Tatooine well, but the mercenary had her own business - she needed to deliver a message to her local clansmen. Farr was assigned to stay on the ship in case of unexpected guests from the Trade Federation and other suicidal individuals who harbored a grudge against one Jedi.
So, Revan went to Jabba only with the assassin droid, reasonably believing that together they could at least break out of any possible trap. And the "Talons" were ready, if necessary, to storm the Hutt's palace.
***
The abode of the illustrious Hutt did not change at all since Revan's last visit. The same palace, more like a fortress or an explosion-proof bunker. The same craving for luxury, albeit with a correction for the general poverty of Tatooine. The same expensive drinks in a small, but fully functional bar right in the throne room, where, besides two dozen mercenaries relaxing demonstratively in the company of slaves, there was also a stage with a musical group quietly performing some unpretentious, but melodic, song.
The Hutt himself lay on a huge... armchair... because calling this structure a throne was beyond his tongue. It looked more like a place to sleep than a place where the local "monarch"... albeit illegal... spends most of his time.
A pair of Twi'lek slave dancers delighted the bulging eyes of Tatooine's slug-like crime boss, not daring, however, to approach their... master.
Revan and HK were let in without any questions. The guards outside parted, not even trying to stand in his way. And inside, Jabba's personal "butler" was already waiting for him - the pale-skinned Twi'lek Bib Fortuna. This strange native of Ryloth sincerely hated his master, but did not dare to openly oppose him, reasonably concerned for his life. However, judging by the interest in his eyes with which the wretch greeted Revan, the latter was finally convinced that the Twi'lek was aware of the recent events. And therefore, his boss knows too.
What did Jabba plan? A banal trap? Or negotiations?
As he approached the throne, Revan noted that there were no Mandalorians among the mercenaries, although the Hutt had always kept at least one native of Mandalore with him before. Does he know about Revan's role in the events on Mandalore, and therefore decided not to risk his life by trusting his possible allies? Smart... though with considerable signs of unhealthy paranoia.
"Greetings, Jabba," Revan approached the throne, nodding respectfully to Jabba instead of bowing.
Confidently and with a hint of challenge, as befits equals.
This gesture was meant to immediately show the head of Tatooine's criminal world that Revan's position had changed. He was no longer the "young upstart" who managed to crush the local gang and only thanks to Jabba's mercy was able to leave the planet not in pieces.
Over the past months, not only Vaner Shan became known in certain circles, but the influence of the "Crimson Talons" also grew significantly. Even if Revan had wanted to, he could no longer pretend to be subordinate.
"Vaner. My favorite 'non-Jedi'. Glad you stopped by," Jabba rumbled in Huttese.
"It's not my habit to avoid important conversations for long. And we have a lot to discuss, right?" Revan tilted his head slightly to the side.
"Ho? Undoubtedly, undoubtedly," the Hutt grinned a nasty grin, but there was no hint of threat from him, unlike the mercenaries.
Waving his hand and muttering something to Fortuna, Jabba made all outsiders leave... which resulted in only the musical group leaving the hall. The mercenaries, as well as the Gamorrean guards, whom Revan did not consider a threat, remained in their places.
"Droid?" The Hutt turned his gaze to HK, expecting some answer.
"He'll stand nearby," Revan shrugged, while HK-47 deceptively calmly moved to the wall.
With the corner of his eye, the former Jedi noticed that several mercenaries had moved closer to the droid. Well, the killer is taken quite seriously... but it's unlikely to help them.
"I suggest we don't drag out the conversation and discuss the most important thing right away," Revan stood calmly and a little relaxed, trying to create a harmless impression.
The Hutt laughed heartily.
"I like a business approach," Jabba said, taking a puff of smoke from some smoldering herb from a long, thin pipe.
"Me too," Revan replied with a smirk hidden behind his mask.
"Then, first of all, congratulations on your impressive successes," Jabba exhaled a cloud of gray smoke.
"Explain?"
"Such impressive growth in such a short period of time... deserves respect," the Hutt replied, "Your 'Talons' have settled in well on Coruscant, opening up many new opportunities for 'trade' for us. And your 'transport company' has almost pushed out the best smugglers in the sector."
"With kind words and credits, you can even make the Judicial Corps 'turn a blind eye' to some things," Revan chuckled.
Especially since the "Talons" only picked up and slightly improved what remained of the "Black Sun's" schemes and machinations. However, yes, Revan had already heard that through the "Obsidian" company... whose name would soon be changed, a stable flow of contraband had flooded between the Core Worlds and the Outer Rim. This was not only the merit of the "Talons", but it was they who, with their actions, stirred up the border sectors. The news that a group associated with the Hutt Cartel had established itself in the capital of the Republic, and even pushed out the Black Sun from there, had spread throughout the galaxy in a matter of days. The transport company grew very quickly, offering not only legal services, but also the opportunity to send anything - to anyone, bypassing the inspection of law enforcement agencies. A confluence of circumstances, luck, and the influence of the Cartel. However, luck is just a manifestation of the Force.
So it's not surprising that the influence of the ever-growing gang, which had become almost legal on Coruscant, grew every day. This could not fail to attract attention and should have caused concern among the Hutts. However, a stable stream of credits flowed to Jabba, as an intermediary between the Talons and the Cartel, which made the Tatooine crime boss much calmer about the strengthening of the Talons... and Vaner Shan, whose name knowledgeable people had already closely associated with recent events.
"Ho-ho-ho. Don't underestimate your achievements. Many tried before you, but only the 'Black Sun' succeeded, and even then, not for long."
The Hutt looked closely at Revan, gradually removing the smirk from his bloated face.
"However, such strengthening has its downside. Many are unhappy that a gang, which a few months ago was only heard of on Tatooine, and even then, only by hearsay, has sharply increased in size, gained influence, and roughly pushed aside respected and proven professionals."
"Many of these professionals have legally settled in 'Obsidian' and are now earning no less than before," Revan objected.
"You're talking about private carriers and smugglers on small freighters. I'm talking about those who are above them and don't let the Judiciary turn inside out every transport ship flying towards the Outer Rim. And among them are my own kind," Jabba said, without threat, however.
This was to be expected. The Talons had crossed paths with many, and only the Cartel's reputation prevented the local bosses from trying to put the upstarts in their place.
"We cooperate faithfully with the Cartel and compensate for possible inconvenconveniences," Revan replied, mentally noting that this cooperation would eventually cease.
However, the Hutts' influence in their sector was undeniable and absolute. The controlled systems were located in strategically interesting corners of the galaxy, which made the Hutts desirable allies... but not in their current form. The Cartel... had become greedy and lost its grip. This is obvious even to Revan, who is essentially a newcomer to the galaxy. At one time, he encountered the intergalactic criminal organization "Exchange," very similar to the Hutt Cartel in its structure and scale of influence. And Revan remembered how ruthlessly the "Exchange" acted to maintain power... and what even a slight weakening of their influence led to.
"Gardulla is interested in you. It was from under her nose that you snatched those credits that ended up in your Talons' accounts," the Hutt grinned again.
"And your accounts," Revan said with a slight smirk.
Jabba is fooling the entire Cartel, skimming the cream from new business prospects, while withholding information from his relatives. This was obvious.
"And mine," Jabba agreed with a laugh, "That's why I'm warning you. Gardulla doesn't like competition."
"And what about you?"
"Ho. I'm not as greedy and stupid as they say about me," Jabba rumbled, "And I don't feel like starting a fight with someone who can organize and suppress a rebellion on a single planet in a few days, while fending off an entire fleet."
Revan shrugged.
Well, it was expected that certain individuals would quickly get to the truth about the events on Mandalore. Especially when the "Crimson Talons'" ships suddenly appear in the conflict, it's not hard to link one remarkable, as Jabba puts it - "non-Jedi," to the events that occurred.
"Are you speaking on behalf of the Cartel? Or for yourself personally?" Revan clarified.
"For now, only for myself. However, I hope that in the near future, I will be speaking for everyone... with your help," the Hutt grinned again.
Oh, now it's clear why such concern. Revan had already helped Jabba push his uncle Ziro down in their unspoken hierarchy, taking almost all of his illegal business on Coruscant. Now Jabba is targeting Gardulla, intending to become the sole ruler of Tatooine. Undoubtedly, this would raise his status in the Cartel.
And what about Revan? It all happened by chance on Coruscant. Their interests just coincided. Tatooine, however, was not needed by the former Jedi. However, the Talons were also here, whose informant network had already proven its usefulness. As for Gardulla... She might try to strike at the Talons or even at the "Obsidian" ships, disrupting supplies and ruining their reputation. Then Revan would have to respond in any case.
Jabba... a cunning slug... but ambitious and potentially useful. Unlike many crime bosses who had lost touch with reality due to their power and permissiveness, Jabba sensed danger perfectly. He still sensed it... which is why he decided to play openly. After all, if Revan clashes with the Cartel now, it's still unknown who will win. This was a few months ago, he was a loner, with only HK behind him. Now his capabilities have increased many times over, and the Hutt understood this before his kin.
One can work with such a person.
"Do you have any thoughts regarding Gardulla?" Revan asked calmly.
"Besides her face contorted in horror, disappearing into the maw of the Sarlacc?" Jabba grinned maliciously.
"The Cartel's reaction?" Revan clarified, hinting at the possible fulfillment of Jabba's twisted fantasy.
"I'll handle it," the Hutt waved his hand dismissively.
"In that case, we should discuss some details of our further cooperation," the former Sith suggested, pulling a chair towards him with the Force.
The negotiations promised to be lengthy. No one intended to give up their own.
A few hours later, a remarkable assassin droid set off towards Gardulla's residence.