Giving the order to jump into hyperspace at any coordinates, "even Mandalore," Revan didn't even think that the droid would follow the instructions literally. He was more interested in the holocrons he managed to take from the Obsidian. After all, they could contain precisely the information that would help the former Jedi approach the secret of his return to the world of the living. This would be the first step towards Bastila's return. Hope for happiness...
But studying the convoluted and unstructured information, interspersed with the delirious thoughts of some mad Sith, required a lot of time. And Revan, apparently, was not going to be given any.
The students demanded attention. They needed guidance from their teacher to understand if they were moving in the right direction and developing correctly. Training was not canceled, nor were joint meditation sessions. Some of the lessons could be pushed off onto HK and Maul, but even so, in three days of hyperspace flight, Revan didn't even learn the name of the one who recorded these holocrons. Did Tulak Hord really have a hand in their creation? Perhaps one of his students or followers?
There was no specificity in the recordings, only hints and vague reasoning. One thought interrupted another, followed by a description of utter nonsense that the author of the holocron clearly saw in a delirium. But that was only at first glance. Revan felt in his gut that something was wrong here. The Force had led him to these holocrons. Therefore, there must be something useful in them. It remained to understand what exactly?
Engrossed in solving the puzzle, Revan didn't immediately notice someone enter his cabin.
The one who entered was Tyra. At the same time, the mercenary said something to the cabin's owner... but he missed it all.
"What?" Revan asked.
"We've entered Mandalore's orbit," the girl repeated.
"Why?" the former Jedi asked in surprise.
"On your order," the mercenary chuckled, taking off her helmet, "Did you not once in three days ask where we were flying?"
"No," the cabin's owner honestly admitted.
The Mandalorian rolled her eyes, mentally giving an unflattering characterization of her interlocutor.
"When you left that cruiser, you ordered your maniac droid to get out of here somewhere far away, mentioning Mandalore for some reason. He didn't waste time choosing a destination and used the one already voiced."
"Awkward..."
The girl squinted and looked at Revan suspiciously.
"You weren't planning to come here, were you?"
"No."
"Hutt. And I thought you'd finally decided to help my clan."
The former Jedi had mixed feelings about this. He felt awkward because, due to a stupid accident, Nomad had a false hope for the quick resolution of her troubles. No, Revan hadn't broken his word... But he hadn't planned to fly to Mandalore so soon.
"Sorry..."
"But we don't have much choice. We'll be staying on Mandalore for a while," Tyra said, not letting Revan finish.
"Why?"
"Refueling and scheduled maintenance," Tyra shrugged, "Our little astromech insists on it, as well as replacing the hyperdrive cooling system. After all, this ship is a prototype. They're not known for their reliability."
Revan massaged his temples, forcing the emerging headache to recede.
"Why do I have the feeling that all this wasn't a coincidence?"
"Paranoia," Tyra said carelessly, pushing a strand of scarlet hair from her forehead.
The former Jedi's suspicious gaze decided to ignore the Mandalorian.
"Okay, let's go to the bridge," Revan said, standing up.
Nomad nodded and left the cabin first.
No matter how much Revan wanted to drop everything and focus on deciphering the holocrons, he couldn't ignore his surroundings. It wasn't in his character. The former Jedi had understood the full benefit and strength of a unified team assembled under his command a long time ago. After all, once a group of young knights who disagreed with the council and followed him led to the destruction of a Mandalorian armada. And a little later, a handful of sentient beings on an old freighter crushed Malak's Empire.
As for the cherished dream of Bastila's return... He had found one of the keys. Hope had appeared, a lead had emerged. But Revan understood well that one shouldn't rush in games with the Force and the laws of the universe. Otherwise, one could end up like Darth Zash, mentioned by Scourge. This meant it was worth being distracted for a while, so as not to let himself get stuck on one thought... as he had once done with the search for Vitiate.
The path to the cockpit took less than a minute. And when Revan saw the planet on whose orbit the Dawn Eagle was drifting, he couldn't believe his eyes.
This world was completely unlike the Mandalore the former Jedi remembered! The greenery from the surface had almost disappeared, giving way to gray deserts, the oceans had shrunk, there were almost no clouds, which spoke against the atmosphere and pleasant climate.
"What happened here?" Revan asked, suppressing his shock.
"What are you talking about?" Tyra didn't understand.
"Why does Mandalore look so lifeless?"
"It's been like this for seven hundred years. Since the time of Dral-Han, or as it's commonly called in the Republic - the Mandalorian Purge."
"Did the Republic do this?" Revan asked incredulously.
"Yes," Nomad replied, "I don't know all the details of the conflict. My mentors told me about it. It wasn't even a war. A massacre."
"Why... What was the cause?!"
HK decided to answer, who was quite bored in the pilot's seat, not having the opportunity to shoot down passing ships and watch bags of meat wriggle and contort in agony when thrown into space.
"Historical note: After the Ruusan Reformation, the Mandalorians refused to join the Republic, as it contradicted their traditions. A breakthrough in technological progress led to an increase in Mandalore's military power. Given the previous experience of repeated invasions of the Republic and the subsequent bloody conflicts, the Jedi Order was extremely concerned about the growing threat from the Mandalorians. As a result, the Council decided to launch a preemptive strike against the Mandalore system. With a multiple numerical superiority of the Republic forces, the Mandalorians had no chance of victory. The attackers acted with particular cruelty, and as a result, many planets, such as Mandalore, Concord Dawn, Ordo, and Fenel, were devastated by orbital bombardments, Master."
The information voiced by the droid not only puzzled the former Jedi but even shocked him.
"The Order... attacked the Mandalorians... for no apparent reason. Burned an entire star system... based on assumptions?! Guided by fear alone?!" Revan gradually boiled, "Did they take away not only their fleet after Ruusan, but their brains too?!"
"It's strange to hear that from you," Tyra said in surprise, "After all, you are known among the Mandalorians as the one who inflicted the most crushing defeat on them."
"I was defending the Republic's civilians! I didn't start that war! And the Order... The Order that was my home would never..."
"The Jedi always resorted to weapons easily," Nomad waved her hand, "Remember Galidraan."
Revan sharply turned to the mercenary.
"It's one thing to defend ideals, protect freedoms, or fight for life, repelling those who are incapable of listening to reason. And it's another thing to drop bombs from orbit on the heads of civilians!" the former Jedi exclaimed angrily, "Let every Mandalorian be trained to handle weapons, let your culture be based on war... Not every Mandalorian chooses the path of a warrior. Among you were farmers, technicians, and scientists... old people who could no longer hold weapons... children who had not yet known life... What did they deserve death for? Refusing to join the rotten Republic? Developing technologies?"
"You heard your droid," Tyra said, somewhat thrown off by her interlocutor's angry retort, "They were a threat."
"And they don't even try diplomacy anymore? Economic methods of influence? A blockade of the system, finally!"
"That would have provoked a conflict in any case."
"What conflict can there be with such a numerical advantage? The entire Republic against one inhabited system!"
"Important note: The Mandalorians have already demonstrated their ability to withstand the full might of the Republic, Master," the assassin droid interjected.
Revan immediately understood that HK was reminding him of the Mandalorian Wars, in which Revan himself had participated.
"That was a different situation," the former Republic army general grimaced with painful memories, "The Mandalorians were united and possessed a huge fleet. The Republic essentially did nothing until it was too late. The Order never entered the war, except for those of its members who followed me. And besides... the Sith were behind it all."
"And how would you have acted in such a situation?" Nomad drew his attention again, "What should the Republic have done?"
"Blockade, force negotiations, bind with treaties, disarm, and leave a garrison. That's how the sequence of actions should have been," Revan said grimly, "Or even better, try to draw the Mandalorians into deeper trade relations with the Republic. Establish contacts. Show the advantages of a peaceful life..."
"Mandalore would not have been conquered," Tyra shook her head, "Rebellions would not have been long in coming. And we know how to wage guerrilla warfare."
"Maybe yes, maybe no," the former Jedi shook his head, "There is always more than one way. The Order chose the easiest... but not the right one."
For a few long moments, Nomad silently looked at Revan, replaying his words in her head. To be honest, she didn't expect such a reaction, especially from someone who had earned the nickname "Butcher" from the Mandalorians. Nevertheless, the Mand'a'd warriors respected Revan. He was the one who had achieved an honest victory. It was no wonder that even Canderous Ordo, the future Mand'alor, saw nothing wrong with working with him. But the Mandalorians could not speak of the Jedi Order with respect. In one thing, Revan was right; it was one thing to wage war, and another to massacre. What the Republic had done was closer to genocide than a preemptive strike. After all, they didn't limit themselves to destroying military targets. No. They burned the surfaces of planets. Destroyed crops, farmlands, and entire settlements. The worlds were devastated. It was no wonder that most of the clans who remained loyal to tradition sincerely hated the Jedi and the Republic.
As a member of the Nomad clan and as a Chiss, Tyra found the Order's actions repugnant.
Revan, once again, made it clear that he was not a Jedi. Even though he had once fought on their side.
"Nevertheless, they achieved their goal," the mercenary broke the silence.
"What do you mean?" Revan didn't understand.
"Mandalore submitted to the Republic. Not completely, but for the most part."
"What does that mean?"
"Few survived after the purge. And as it happened, most of them were cowardly gizka from a semi-forgotten pacifist faction. It's not surprising if you're sitting underground, tail between your legs, a bombardment doesn't scare you," Nomad snorted, "It was easy to win over the depleted people. The pacifists, with the help of the occupying forces, became the official government of Mandalore. There were many dissenters, and the fight against the opposition continues to this day, but Mandalore has not been able to recover in seven centuries."
"Well, I was too hasty in assessing the intellectual abilities of the Order's Council. I take back my words," Revan shook his head, "The Order destroyed Mandalore, depriving you of your unity."
"Shame," Tyra whispered.
Silence reigned again, broken only by the beeping of instruments. Revan was contemplating new information. With all the worries about training Anakin and Maul, searching for ancient artifacts, playing with visions, and establishing the Claw's information network, Revan hadn't bothered to study the situation on Mandalore, which had once interested him.
This gap needed to be filled as soon as possible. After all, Revan intended to fulfill the promise he made to Tyra. He owed this girl. And the former dark lord was accustomed to repaying debts.
And something told the former Jedi that in the coming events... it would be better to have the Mandalorians on his side.
"Tell me, what's the situation on Mandalore now?" Revan asked Nomad, "As I understand it, there's some kind of democratic government in power?"
"A Duchess and a Parliament," Tyra nodded, "The pacifist party had been gaining strength for a long time, since the Purge. The traditionalists held them back as best they could, but they still managed to come to power and significantly change the way of life on Mandalore. They even forced the people to give up their beskar'gam."
The last phrase genuinely surprised Revan. The former Jedi, who had encountered Mandalorians more than once, couldn't imagine what could have made a native of Mandalore take off his armor forever.
"Opposition? I don't think all the clans accept the new order," he immediately asked.
"You're right, many didn't like it. Immediately after the formation of the provisional government, a group of clans separated and chose a new Mand'alor. They called themselves the True Mandalorians and preferred to follow centuries-old traditions, ignoring the newly formed parliament. It's clear that on a planet where an occupation garrison was still present, there was no place for them, so they scattered throughout the galaxy. The Nomad clan was among them."
"So, essentially, everything returned to the state it was before the appearance of Mand'alor the Keeper?" Revan clarified, who perfectly remembered the Mandalorian mercenaries who had scattered throughout the galaxy after the defeat of Mand'alor the Ultimate.
"Without going into details, I suppose so," Tyra agreed, "Only fragmented information remains from those times. Digestible chronicles began to be kept after Canderous Ordo came to power."
"I thought so," Revan nodded to his thoughts.
"Be that as it may, much has changed in recent years. About twenty-five years ago, the title of Mand'alor was taken by Jaster Mereel from Concord Dawn. He, more than anyone, advocated for the preservation of traditions... though not all of them. The Canons of Honor, followed by the Mandalorians since the time of the Neo-Crusaders, Jaster considered the key to preserving traditions, while avoiding the moral decay that the life of mercenaries led to."
"Resol'nare," Revan said thoughtfully, "Canderous also spoke of something similar in his time."
"That's right. Mand'alor the Keeper, as his diaries suggest, while uniting the clans, paid close attention to the moral character of the warriors."
"And this Jaster followed his example?"
"You could say so. Mereel discovered that many Mandalorians were dissatisfied with the dishonorable and excessively savage methods prevalent among their brethren. Wishing to revive the honor of the clans, Mereel took the long-forgotten Canons of Honor of the Mandalorian Crusaders and Neo-Crusaders as the basis for a new set of rules, creating several hundred directives for the Mandalorian warrior, united under the name Codex of Supercommandos."
Revan mentally noted that this Mereel was very similar to Canderous. It would be worth meeting him.
"However, the new codex didn't please everyone," Tyra continued, "A group of radical clans, led by Tor Vizsla, broke away from the True Mandalorians."
"You mentioned him earlier," Revan recalled, "His clan threatens yours, right?"
"Tor Vizsla is dead, but his clan is indeed at war with mine. But let's go in order," Nomad clarified, "Tor believed that the galaxy, as well as the New Mandalorians, were only using the tradition-loyal clans for defense and attack when it suited them, like wild beasts on a leash. He insisted that only by regaining their former glory and respect from the galaxy could Mandalore, as an independent world, be reborn."
"And like many before him, he confused respect with fear?"
"Exactly. They called themselves the Death Watch and started a real civil war, seeking to destroy Mereel's loyal True Mandalorians and seize power in the system."
Being well-acquainted with political intrigue, Revan quickly calculated the situation.
"I suppose the pacifist party observed the conflict from the sidelines, and after its end, suddenly came to power, in the absence of political rivals," the former Jedi described the events quite accurately.
True Mandalorians were annihilated on Galidraan. The Death Watch is officially disbanded. And in power, as you rightly assumed, are pacifists led by a hand-reared, idealistic Duchess, whose mind is so myopic that she can't see where our world is heading," hissed Tyra with undisguised dislike. "There is no agriculture on Mandalore, because the land has become unsuitable for growing food. We live in isolated cities under domes, as the atmosphere is only conditionally breathable. Military production has been curtailed in favor of factories assembling civilian transports. And even those have been moved from Mandalore to Concordia. The homeland of the Mando'ade has become a practically dead world. No trade, no army. We are defenseless and are heading for an abyss. But the Duchess cares more about looking good in the Senate.
"I wouldn't be surprised if Sidious or his master had a hand in this," Revan noted mentally. "The Sith have always recognized the danger of the Mandalorians. That's why Vitiate decided to pit them against the Republic, to simultaneously remove the mercenaries from the path and weaken the enemy army. Apparently, Plagueis came up with a similar plan. Divide the clans, set them against each other, and put someone in power who would be easy to control. I won't believe that there's no one behind the pacifists."
Nomad continued to badmouth the Mandalore government, moving on to corrupt politicians and the rise of crime in the sector. After all, without the warlike clans, Mandalore had no real power.
Revan's thoughts and Tyra's stream of abuse were interrupted by HK, no matter how pleasant it was for him to listen to the flowery expressions in Mandalorian.
"Alert: Master, we are being contacted by the dispatcher from Sundari spaceport and they are inquiring if we plan to descend to the planet. We are already making our third orbit," the droid reported. "Reminder: We need to carry out repairs and refueling."
"Tyra, where can we take shelter on the planet? I'd like to avoid the authorities' attention," Revan asked.
"The old spaceport has been preserved in Keldabe. The Nomad clan's cell is also there. They will help," the mercenary replied.
"HK, inform the Sundari dispatcher that we are heading to Keldabe for refueling and calculate the course."
"Acknowledged, Master."
While the droid carried out the instructions, the former Jedi returned to the interrupted conversation.
"Although you mentioned that the True Mandalorians were destroyed and the Death Watch disbanded, your request for help itself states the opposite," Revan looked intently into the mercenary's eyes. "Both factions didn't disappear, did they?"
"You're right," Nomad agreed. "After Jaster's death, the title of Mand'alor passed to Jango Fett."
A grimace of disgust appeared on Revan's face for a moment. The atrocities of another Fett involuntarily surfaced in his memory, and it wasn't easy to overcome the old feeling of hatred.
"Jango was the only one who survived on Galidraan when the Jedi, at the instigation of the Death Watch puppets, wiped out his entire squad."
Revan recalled seeing records of this incident in the Temple Archives. Mentally, the former Jedi noted that Dooku, who led the operation to "pacify the mercenary group," was also not thrilled with the outcome. The Count, it seemed, realized he had been used. And this greatly undermined his faith in the Order.
"In the end, Fett still managed to kill Vizsla," Tyra continued meanwhile. "However, he decided to renounce the title of Mand'alor. The civil war ended then, but the conflict is still not resolved."
"The war is now being waged in secret, right?"
"Yes. Many of the clans that supported Jaster are still loyal to the code and ready to respond to the call of Mand'alor, whom they still consider Jango Fett. Just as the Death Watch has not disappeared anywhere and is weaving its webs somewhere on Concordia."
"You mentioned hostages?" Revan decided to get to the point.
Tyra readily omitted the details of Mandalore's political intrigues.
"The Watch kidnapped dozens of people. Most are somehow connected to the leaders of the clans supporting Jaster's ideas, or to representatives of parliament. And if the clans can still resist, gritting their teeth and preparing to retaliate symmetrically, then the pacifists... The Watch, in fact, already has a powerful lever of pressure on the government and they are just waiting for the right moment for a coup d'état."
"Is there anyone from the Nomads among the hostages, right?"
"Yes," Tyra nodded grimly.
"Someone close?" Revan surmised.
"A mentor. Or rather, a mentor. One of those who accepted me, without emphasizing my original race."
"I see," the former Jedi exhaled and rubbed his forehead. "But what do you want from me? What's with these games of searching for Mand'alor's mask? You asked me to save your clan. I can do that. But to pull an entire planet out of the mess it has sunk into itself over four thousand years? I'm not omnipotent."
"You are Revan! You..."
"Just one person," the former Jedi interrupted his interlocutor in a calm voice.
From the pilot's seat, a quite clear "Statement: Many would disagree with that" came from the vocoder at low volume.
With a fleeting movement of his hand, Revan sent the hydrospanner lying on the floor into the assassin droid's head.
Clang.
"Indignant exclamation: Ow! ... Master."
"Even your droid agrees with me!" Tyra didn't give up. "You've worked wonders before. I've read legends about you."
"Legends are legends for a reason, they distort the truth at the most unimaginable angles," Revan parried.
"But there's still a grain of truth in them. Don't deny it! You defeated the High Mandalore! You conquered half the Republic! And you freed it!"
"That's different..."
"I don't see the difference," the mercenary stubbornly crossed her arms over her chest. "My mentor always told me not to underestimate the power of a leader. Even one person on the battlefield can change everything."
"Especially if he possesses Battle Meditation," Revan snorted mentally.
"I'm just asking you to try. Help me!"
For the first time, Nomad allowed her voice to tremble in Revan's presence. No, she had shed tears before, talking about her past in the Dominion. But it was now that Revan felt the sincere emotions raging in the girl's soul. Even if she wasn't born on Mandalore, she had become a true Mandalorian. Her mentor had raised her well... perhaps even too well.
She had helped get Anakin out of the Temple. She had helped connect him with the right people when Revan needed help. Nomad had never given him a reason to doubt her in the few months they had known each other. He had trusted Canderous in a much shorter time.
Tyra had become a friend. And friends cannot be refused help.
"Do you understand what kind of swamp we're getting into?" he clarified.
"Yes," the girl nodded, suddenly serious.
"And your plan to search for the mask will have to be adjusted."
"Yes."
"And probably... to stage a military coup..."
"..."
"Do you understand?"
"Yes," Tyra replied confidently, gathering her courage.
"Then we'll have a lot of work to do," Revan clapped his hands, making the final decision. "Tyra, I need to talk to the head of your clan and, if possible, with those who support the same position. Prepare brief information about the current ruling party and the Duchess in particular. Who she grew up with, who she met, where she lives, where she dines, where she stays on Coruscant..."
"That's a huge amount of information..." the girl was taken aback.
"Involve Maul, he knows how to find what they try to hide. R2 will help with the hacking," the former Jedi turned towards the exit of the cabin and shouted loudly. "Right, little one?"
A cheerful whistle in binary was a clear confirmation.
"Next, HK... I'll regret this, but you have a special assignment."
"Willingly: They won't know what struck them, Master," the assassin droid replied bloodthirstily.
Revan slapped his forehead, but continued anyway.
"Find out what you can about the Death Watch. Structure, names of leaders, hideouts, who they work with, who they pressure. Anything. And quietly."
"Enthusiastically: I won't let you down, Master."
"I hope at least something will be left of the planet..." Revan grumbled barely audibly and continued louder. "Prepare for landing."
And while the source of future problems for Mandalore was smoothly descending into the spaceport, the former Jedi decided to brief his youngest apprentice. After all, this would be Anakin's first real "mission" with his mentor.