send its fleets to crush the potential threat before it could begin.
In their disorganized and depleted state, it was unlikely the Mandalorians would be able to resist. After the inevitable defeat, the Senate would likely impose martial law over the surviving clans, forcing them to disarm and abandon the customs and practices of their warrior culture. If the Republic found out about this, the Mandalorians as Canderous knew them would cease to exist forever.
“Do you believe the Mandalorians will attack the Republic again if the Mask is found?” Revan asked.
“Depends who finds it,” Canderous answered candidly. “Some of the clan leaders want nothing more than to avenge our defeat. Others would rather try to rebuild our society. We were great warriors before we started conquering Republic worlds; it’s possible we can restore our honor without violating the treaty terms we agreed to.”
The terms I forced you to accept
, Revan thought.
It was ironic that Canderous was sharing all this with the architect of the Mandalorians’ greatest defeat. Almost a decade earlier, Revan had been one of the few willing to take action against the invading clans. But he was not the same person he was back then. He no longer clung to the simplistic ideals of right and wrong or good and evil. He understood better than anyone that dark and light were intertwined in strange and complex ways. And on some primal level, he knew this was all somehow connected to his visions of a dark, storm-swept world.
The Mandalorians had the potential to be a very real threat, but his visions had convinced him there was something far more dangerous lurking beyond the borders of known space. The fate of the entire galaxy might rest on the repressed memories trying to break free from the prison of his own mind, and sending a hostile Republic fleet to scatter the clans wouldn’t get him any closer to unlocking the truth.
“I’m not going to say anything about this to the Senate or the Council,” Revan assured his friend. “But whoever finds the Mandalore’s Mask will shape the destiny of your people for the next thousand years. I think it might be a good idea for us to be there when that happens.”
A broad grin spread across Canderous’s scarred, square jaw, and he reached across the table and slapped the Jedi on the shoulder. “I knew I could count on you.”
“Time to get the old gang back together for one last adventure.”
“Not everyone,” Revan countered. “Juhani and Jolee are Jedi; they still answer to the Council. They might feel obligated to say something about this.”
“I got no problem with leaving the cat girl and the old man behind.”
“I don’t want to get Mission and Zaalbar mixed up in this, either,” Revan continued. “They’ve worked hard to build up a nice importexport business over the past year. I don’t want them to throw it all away.”
“They would if you asked them to,” Canderous noted. “Wouldn’t even think twice about it.”
“That’s why I’m not going to ask. Mission’s had it rough her wholelife. Now that she’s finally got it back on track, I’m not going to mess things up for her.”
“Okay, scratch the Twi’lek kid. But what about Zaalbar? That Wookiee knows how to handle himself when things get rough.”
“Mission and Big Z are a team. We can’t break them up.”
Canderous rolled his eyes. “We’re getting a little short on bodies here.”
T3 whistled loudly, and Revan reached down to give him a reassuring pat on the head. “Don’t worry, little fella. You’re too useful to leave behind.”
The astromech droid whistled again.
“Good point,” Revan replied. “HK’s a little too trigger-happy to bring on this mission. Things tend to get bloody when he’s around.”
“You realize we’re going to a planet overrun with Mandalorians?” Canderous reminded him. “Bloody is probably unavoidable.”
“I’m hoping at least some of the clans can be reasoned
In their disorganized and depleted state, it was unlikely the Mandalorians would be able to resist. After the inevitable defeat, the Senate would likely impose martial law over the surviving clans, forcing them to disarm and abandon the customs and practices of their warrior culture. If the Republic found out about this, the Mandalorians as Canderous knew them would cease to exist forever.
“Do you believe the Mandalorians will attack the Republic again if the Mask is found?” Revan asked.
“Depends who finds it,” Canderous answered candidly. “Some of the clan leaders want nothing more than to avenge our defeat. Others would rather try to rebuild our society. We were great warriors before we started conquering Republic worlds; it’s possible we can restore our honor without violating the treaty terms we agreed to.”
The terms I forced you to accept
, Revan thought.
It was ironic that Canderous was sharing all this with the architect of the Mandalorians’ greatest defeat. Almost a decade earlier, Revan had been one of the few willing to take action against the invading clans. But he was not the same person he was back then. He no longer clung to the simplistic ideals of right and wrong or good and evil. He understood better than anyone that dark and light were intertwined in strange and complex ways. And on some primal level, he knew this was all somehow connected to his visions of a dark, storm-swept world.
The Mandalorians had the potential to be a very real threat, but his visions had convinced him there was something far more dangerous lurking beyond the borders of known space. The fate of the entire galaxy might rest on the repressed memories trying to break free from the prison of his own mind, and sending a hostile Republic fleet to scatter the clans wouldn’t get him any closer to unlocking the truth.
“I’m not going to say anything about this to the Senate or the Council,” Revan assured his friend. “But whoever finds the Mandalore’s Mask will shape the destiny of your people for the next thousand years. I think it might be a good idea for us to be there when that happens.”
A broad grin spread across Canderous’s scarred, square jaw, and he reached across the table and slapped the Jedi on the shoulder. “I knew I could count on you.”
“Time to get the old gang back together for one last adventure.”
“Not everyone,” Revan countered. “Juhani and Jolee are Jedi; they still answer to the Council. They might feel obligated to say something about this.”
“I got no problem with leaving the cat girl and the old man behind.”
“I don’t want to get Mission and Zaalbar mixed up in this, either,” Revan continued. “They’ve worked hard to build up a nice importexport business over the past year. I don’t want them to throw it all away.”
“They would if you asked them to,” Canderous noted. “Wouldn’t even think twice about it.”
“That’s why I’m not going to ask. Mission’s had it rough her wholelife. Now that she’s finally got it back on track, I’m not going to mess things up for her.”
“Okay, scratch the Twi’lek kid. But what about Zaalbar? That Wookiee knows how to handle himself when things get rough.”
“Mission and Big Z are a team. We can’t break them up.”
Canderous rolled his eyes. “We’re getting a little short on bodies here.”
T3 whistled loudly, and Revan reached down to give him a reassuring pat on the head. “Don’t worry, little fella. You’re too useful to leave behind.”
The astromech droid whistled again.
“Good point,” Revan replied. “HK’s a little too trigger-happy to bring on this mission. Things tend to get bloody when he’s around.”
“You realize we’re going to a planet overrun with Mandalorians?” Canderous reminded him. “Bloody is probably unavoidable.”
“I’m hoping at least some of the clans can be reasoned
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