The "Marauder" sped through hyperspace towards the last beacon on the border of the Republic's space near the half-forgotten trading post "Distant-347," which existed solely due to ore haulers from the only inhabited planet in the system. This was almost the border of the Chiss Dominion. There, the ship would be forced to abandon Republic map references and move further into the Unknown Regions.
According to ship time, it was deep night, and the crew, except for the night shift, was resting. Revan, despite it being his rest hours, was not asleep. The former Jedi sat on his bed in a meditation pose, trying to sort out his thoughts. For the third day in a row, he had been plagued by nightmares that prevented him from sleeping. And, worse, he recognized visions of the Force in these disturbing dreams... as he had on Coruscant before leaving in search of a planet shrouded in thunderstorms. Only this time, the visions were much clearer than the images of the Citadel against the backdrop of a raging storm that never subsided on Dromund Kaas...
Coruscant in flames. The flames, rising higher than the Spire of Tranquility, seemed to have engulfed the Temple of the Order entirely. A column of faceless soldiers marched through the stone halls, led by... Skywalker. Padawan robes had been replaced by armor, covered in many dents, scratches, and scorch marks, as if the young man, who looked no more than twenty years old, had gone through a thousand battles to reach the heart of the Republic. Revan did not want to see his student's face storming the Temple... fearing that he would see in it only the desiccated, grayed image of that boy who was now training under his tutelage... fearing to see the golden fire of rage in his eyes. But, to the mentor's surprise, the padawan was not an example of the depraved influence of the Dark Side. He walked forward proudly and confidently, like a hero of the Republic on parade... he came not to kill, but to stop killings. And in his eyes burned not the fire of rage, but of righteous indignation...
Alas, the vision could not offer details, as it was fleeting and interspersed with other, equally vivid and intrusive ones.
A fiery world, shrouded in ash, and Mandalorians, who landed from assault ships in a beskar rain, washing away the enemy's defenses in an unstoppable torrent, led by their Mand'alor. And amidst the crossfire of blaster bolts, Maul's scarlet lightsaber staff flashed from time to time... but on whose side was he fighting...
The fire in the vision was replaced by ice and a scene of a chase through a blizzard after a nimble and agile figure in a white robe. Four were chasing... and in them, Revan recognized Jedi. Unfamiliar, young, and inexperienced, but immensely self-confident... otherwise, they would not have fallen into the trap set by the fugitive. In the white haze of the blizzard, a green saber flashed, a shade well-known to Revan, and it swept through the pursuing squad like an emerald ribbon, incapacitating them. Rina struck quickly and accurately, but... not lethally? Only before the young Togruta did the Zabrak stop and allow her to notice herself and prepare for battle.
The image of Rina "dancing" in streams of green fire and snow was replaced by Maul's fury, which blazed like rivers of molten lava on the surface of the planet, where he destroyed his enemies... no, the enemies of the Empire... the same Empire whose stability Anakin protected, walking through the halls of the Temple as the judge and avenging blade of his own justice.
And Revan himself watched all this... standing in a round room that reminded him of the Council Chamber in the old enclave on Dantooine... only without walls and a ceiling... as if the room itself floated in the void of space. But he was not alone here... There were two others opposite him. Slightly to the right, as if from the Senate tribune, Sidious watched everything. To the left, unnaturally bent, like a puppet with slackened strings, a figure of a muun was frozen, behind whom lurked a sinister shadow, whose image constantly changed... but Revan clearly felt the grave cold that contained not a drop of life. The three watched the galaxy in the fire of war... The three wanted to win... but for completely different reasons.
Revan exhaled loudly, interrupting his meditation. The fragments of visions he had gathered in his mind did not allow him to see a unified picture. They constantly changed, mixed, and got confused in time and space, forcing Revan to concentrate harder in an attempt to hold the images in his memory. But all in vain. Visions came and went at the will of the Great Force... and were very dangerous. The former Jedi remembered how much harm a vision could cause if it was misunderstood, made the basis of one's existence, or if one tried to change predetermined events.
Predetermined... History is not carved in stone. It is in constant motion, and even the slightest detail can turn it in a completely different direction. And how often visions themselves became the cause of the events that occurred, Revan did not even want to recall.
The visions of his students troubled Revan... but even more so, the source of these images worried him. The former Jedi felt the proximity of the Forge more and more clearly, and he attributed such frequent visions of not the brightest events to its influence. War, after all, even a righteous one, remains war, during which entire planets perish. The light does not send such visions... But sometimes the only path to light lies through darkness...
Revan shook his head, dispelling the disturbing thoughts, and got up from his bed. He wouldn't be able to sleep anyway tonight, and he didn't need sleep. Meditation was a perfectly adequate substitute for rest, so, leaving his cabin, the former Jedi headed for the bridge. Observing the crew's efficient work helped him forget his worries.
The bridge was quiet. In the pilot's seat, Carrie Moro, with half-closed eyelids, monitored the instrument readings. In hyperspace, the ship was on autopilot following a pre-programmed route, and technicians and astromechs monitored the main systems, so the pilot had nothing special to do. Nor did the Mandalorian frozen over the weapons control console. It wasn't Sirsho, but one of his clansmen who had taken the night shift. It was impossible to see under the helmet whether the warrior had fallen asleep at such a boring task... However, as soon as Revan took a step, the Mandalorian turned his head slightly towards him and nodded weakly, dispelling the former Jedi's doubts. The captain's chair, which was actually rarely used by captains, was occupied, but not by Dune, but by Tyra. The Mandalorian was engrossed in studying star charts, making notes in her datapad. Well, the minimal crew was minimal for a reason, so that besides the droids, there were only a few sentient beings around.
"Good evening," Revan greeted everyone.
"Can't sleep either, boss?" Moro responded from the pilot's seat.
"A Jedi can go weeks without sleep, food, or water," Tyra replied calmly, without looking up from her task.
Revan couldn't immediately determine if Nomad or Shan was speaking. However, apparently, the girls agreed on this.
"I never believed those fairy tales," grumbled the Mandalorian at the weapons console.
"I didn't believe them either," Tyra chuckled.
"And now?" her clansman turned to her.
"Once, I didn't believe that Mandalorians would work with Jedi. But look how things have turned out," the mercenary shrugged.
"Fair enough," Nomad nodded and, nodding to Revan again, turned back to his console.
"Studying maps?" the former Jedi inquired, approaching the captain's chair.
"I'm thinking about which system would be best to enter Dominion space, where there are fewer patrols... but it's all useless, considering I have no idea how the Chiss state's borders have changed over the years. And whether the doctrine has changed... which is unlikely, given their... our adherence to traditions. Who am I kidding, I'm just trying to calm my nerves," Nomad exclaimed, throwing up her hands.
"Don't mind if I join you?" Revan smiled.
"In studying, or in trying to calm down?"
"One doesn't preclude the other," the former Jedi shrugged.
The rest of the night shift passed quietly, until Joe-Seto Jeff appeared on the bridge, coming to relieve Moro at the pilot's post. A dispute immediately broke out between the colleagues of the craft, the cause of which was the route display parameters entered by Carrie, which Joe considered inconvenient. Revan was about to intervene in the dialogue of the overly talkative pilots, but it was not necessary.
"Moro and Jeff, one more word, and you'll only be flying ore haulers near Kessel. Am I making myself clear?" Radek Dune, who had entered the bridge, barked.
"Yes, boss!" the pilots replied in unison.
Moreover, both remained at their posts. Joe took the co-pilot's seat and, by extension, the navigator's. Despite the crew being reduced to a minimum, all posts on the bridge were occupied, albeit mostly by droids. The ship was preparing to exit hyperspace and change course.
"So, where are we going?" the captain inquired.
"I have no idea," Revan shrugged, which stunned the ship's commander.
Radek slowly shifted his gaze to Tyra, who had given up her seat, but she only shook her head. The gesture could be interpreted in any way...
"What do you mean?" Dune clarified, having recovered from his slight shock.
"In the literal sense. I don't have final coordinates, as I will be piloting the ship manually, charting a new route," Revan explained.
"'Blind' jumps are usually calculated by navigational supercomputers that take into account all available information about the regions through which the path will pass. And all this takes more than a month... But even so, there is a high risk of catastrophe. An un accounted for gravity source on the path can disable the hyperdrive, which, in the best case, will lead to an emergency exit from hyperspace," Radek tried to appeal to his employer's reason.
"And in the worst case, to the ship's destruction, I know. However, when using the special abilities of Force users, the risk is minimized. Many routes known to you were originally charted or corrected by the Gifted," Revan replied.
"Forgive my skepticism, but we are talking about lives: mine and the crew entrusted to me. And I am not ready to risk them, relying on mystical teachings of ancient religious sects," Dune said grimly.
Alderaanians always found it difficult to believe in mysticism. They were too accustomed to their scientific academy providing explanations for everything around them. However, even it acknowledged the phenomenon of the Force's existence and beings capable of interacting with it on a deeper level.
"Do you want to refuse the flight? I warned you from the beginning that I would pilot the ship into the Unknown Regions."
"I don't want to refuse. I'm trying to understand if you intend to kill us all," the Alderaanian stated directly.
"I don't risk people unnecessarily and I don't trade lives if there's another option. I look young, and you might mistake me for someone's rich offspring who decided to play with his parents' toys and hired help. Well, that's not me. Don't let my appearance deceive you."
"Trust must be earned..." Radek remarked.
"To do that, you need to be given a chance to earn it," Revan corrected.
The Alderaanian looked intently into the former Jedi's eyes, as he was without his mask... which was one of the reasons for the situation. After all, no matter how you look at it, Revan looked too young, and he should have hidden his face for now. Be that as it may, what the former Jedi said still managed to convince Dune to give his employer a chance.
"I hope I won't regret this," Radek said briefly, nodding to Revan, and moved away from the chair, intending to check the posts on the bridge.
The Jedi smiled and shook his head. How often he had to deal with distrustful people. Karr would have approved of such captain's behavior.
"Didn't even join the conversation?" he asked Tyra, who had been standing nearby the whole time.
"Pfft, you convinced the clan council to accept Jedi help and stage a coup. What's one Alderaanian to you?" Tyra dismissed.
Revan nodded with a smile, accepting Nomad's assessment.
"Ready for the flight?"
"No."
"Good. It's impossible to be ready for everything."
Chiss Dominion Space.
Defense and Expansion Forces. Fifth Patrol Detachment.
Corvette "Fearless."
A successful military career in the Expansionary Defense Force, what could be more desirable for a representative of the noble families of the Dominion? So once said the father of the young captain, who only a month ago received command of the corvette "Fearless". The young officer disagreed. No, there was nothing wrong with a military career, and for representatives of the ruling families, it was indeed a good support in their future lives. However, his father saw in his son's career a chance to restore the family's shaken position among the Aristocracy. A chance to intermarry with other ruling families and regain influence over parliament and the council of families... but for what purpose he needed this influence, his father could not say. A tribute to traditions and the memory of ancestors? Personal ambitions?
The young captain himself believed that he was destined for much more than the fate of another "support" under the foundation of the crumbling pedestal of the Nurudo family. From early childhood, he was distinguished by a sharp mind and considered it his main weapon, and therefore strove for any knowledge he could reach. He quickly understood and accepted the laws of the Dominion and Chiss society, although he did not consider them ideal. However, he also quickly recognized the imperfection of the existing structure, as well as the ossification of his kin on some important issues. But, in order to be heard in the Dominion, one needs influence, and for influence, one needs to be a representative of the Aristocracy and be part of the ruling families, at least as a third-born son. Yes, in some ways his father was right - a career in the Expansionary Defense Force had its advantages. But how much effort it required...
The best in school, the best in the academy, the youngest officer to receive the position of senior assistant, and now the youngest captain in the fleet in the last eighty years - all this the young captain achieved through his own efforts, fully concentrating his natural talents on the military craft. And the fact that he received the status of an honored adopted son of the eighth ruling family spoke for itself.
Mitt'ra'u'nuruodo confidently moved towards his goal, advancing in his service and earning more and more respect in Chiss society... But, the further he advanced... the more blurred the goal became. What did he want? What did he really want? Influence for the family - his father's instructions. Thrawn understood that in the Dominion, with its existing system, he would be bound by the framework of laws, doctrines, and traditions... even if he saw a more correct path. After all, back in the academy, studying the history of relations with the Vagaari, the young Chiss saw the mistakes of his ancestors, both in tactics of battles and negotiations, and in long-term actions... And he was not the only one who saw them. As the instructor recounted, in every cohort of students, there were those who saw problems and even proposed more effective solutions... But years passed and nothing changed in the doctrines. The Chiss were too afraid of change. But not him.
The alarm signal tore Mitt'ra'u'nuruodo, lost in thought, away from studying the records of one of the Dominion's military historians. During long patrols, Thrawn often entertained himself with such reading.
"Captain, an order from command. The second detachment of the fifth patrol unit is ordered to investigate a signal from one of the border probes. Smuggler activity is suspected. Ordered to detain and search all ships found in the designated sector," one of the bridge officers addressed Thrawn.
A routine mission, hunting smugglers in the border sector. The second detachment consisted of three corvettes: "Steadfast," "Swift," and "Fearless." Alas, the senior officer in the detachment, despite the equal rank of the commanders, was not Thrawn. This meant that in case of any escalation of the situation, Mitt'ra'u'nuruodo would have to correct the command's mistakes while formally following their orders.
"Prepare to change course. We are waiting for orders from the 'Steadfast'," Thrawn commanded.
Hunting smugglers is a boring occupation... but perhaps this time it will be at least a little more interesting?
Meanwhile.
Corvette "Marauder". Unknown Regions.
Immersed in a state of meditative trance, Revan manually adjusted the ship's course, making corrections to the navigation computer and adjusting the hyperdrive. This was already the sixth "blind" hyperspace jump in the last week of wandering through the Unknown Regions, so the crew, and especially the bridge officers, reacted quite calmly to the actions of their strange employer. However, the lack of understanding of what they were all looking for in this part of the galaxy was unnerving.
Revan followed his own unique sensations and fragments of visions that the Force sent him, moving further and further away from the borders of explored space. The Forge was getting closer... Its presence was felt very nearby. Even the Padawans began to sense the cold and pulsation of the greatest creation of the Rakata engineers.
Nearby... very nearby... A new bright response in the Force made him flinch and catch his breath.
"Emergency exit from hyperspace!" Revan commanded.
The pilots immediately performed the necessary sequence of actions, interrupting the hyperspace jump and switching to sublight speed. The "Marauder" handled such a maneuver without problems, which pleased the former Jedi.
"And where are we?" Tyra asked first, although Radec Dune was also about to ask this question.
"The Unknown Regions are not called 'unknown' for nothing, are they?" Revan replied, himself eagerly studying the readings of the navigation sensors.
"This system is not on the Republic maps, that's for sure," Dune nodded in agreement.
"I looked at the Chiss maps a long time ago... but I can't recognize the configuration either..." Tyra added grimly, joining the examination of the navigation computer data.
"Captain, I'm picking up a subspace signal. Source at coordinates thirty-five - forty-six, mark seven. Some kind of probe, by the looks of it," Sirsho Nomad drew the commanders' attention.
"Let me see!" Tyra jumped up to him.
"Do you know what that is?" Revan clarified, noticing how agitated the mercenary became.
"I hope not... Hutt! It's a border patrol probe! It will alert the Expansionary Defense Force to our arrival!"
"Is it not allowed to arrive in the Dominion from outside?" Dune wondered.
"It's not allowed in the Republic either. Border violations are recorded at the discretion of the government of each specific system, and then either planetary defense forces or the Judicial Corps come into play," Revan replied.
"All flights are registered through the representative of the trade or military fleet. Only smugglers and uninvited guests arrive without a request. The former are dealt with harshly, the latter... depends on the situation. But uninvited guests are not liked in the Dominion," Tyra commented.
"How quickly do the Expansionary Defense Force ships intercept?" the former Jedi clarified.
"If the standards haven't changed, the reaction time is no more than fifteen minutes. Patrols should be within one short jump. The composition of the intercept group is variable, but most often it's two or three 'Jer'jo' class corvettes. But in case of resistance, they will call for reinforcements from the nearest base, which could be in the next system, considering we have no idea where we ended up," Nomad replied.
"So, we have almost fifteen minutes to hide. Course for the second planet from the star," Revan ordered.
"But the third is closer. And the surface, according to the sensors, is more suitable for hiding a ship," Dune objected.
"I know, but I like the second one. Execute the order, captain," Revan commanded, smiling and putting on his mask.
"As you command, commander," Radec nodded, frowning.
The former Jedi did not explain that it was precisely on the second planet that he felt a familiar presence. The Force was leading him there, and Revan hoped his feelings were not deceiving him.
The Forge was very close...