The moment we exited the conference room, the honor guards were waiting for us, and once Mand'alor left, they reformed with the same precision as before, surrounding us from all directions. The captain, going by the notches and markings on his armor, was the same one who met us on the landing pad. This time, he gave us a silent, visor-stiff nod as he gestured toward the far-left archway.
"To our quarters, I take it?" Vila asked lightly, stretching her arms overhead, moaning in satisfaction.
Seeing her nonchalance, the captain didn't answer; he simply turned on his heel and began leading our march. His men moved as one, their boots slamming down in perfect unison as I watched. Yeah, yeah... I get it. You are all well-trained soldiers.
The corridor we entered after a short ride in the turbolift was less ceremonial than the one that held the round table. Gone were the bronze and similar decorative reliefs hammered into the walls. Here, they were more straightforward and more utilitarian. The lighting was also harsher, at least it felt that way, coming from the bright, white lumens overhead.
Focusing on our escort, I could push a little, using the Force to try to read their mood, as it seemed they were no longer in a talkative mood. Or were ordered to shut up... Maybe both. Reading them, their earlier hostility had ebbed a bit, but of course, it had not vanished yet. Now they were more professional, making sure they remained disciplined, letting their silence weigh on us more than their bravado and attitude. A better shift... They were probably part of the younger generation, as far as I could guess, and I wouldn't be surprised if they were given a lesson by some veteran, who was actually guarding Mand'alore himself.
Our journey continued in silence... At least until one of them, indeed younger by the sound of his voice, broke all of the stillness that managed to last for this long.
"Strange droid you've got," he said as his helmet tipped slightly toward HK, "Did your Jedi technicians forget to finish building it?"
A ripple of chuckles moved through the line, subdued by the twitch of the captain's head, but he didn't tell them to stop... Heh... Typical.
[Indignant Statement: Correction. This chassis is camouflaged. Purpose: to lull primitives such as yourself into underestimating me. Observation: It is working.] HK's photoreceptors brightened in immediate offense, not letting them get away with insulting his looks. The laughter cut off at once... Replaced by Vila's chuckle and my smile, as this time around, I was letting HK do whatever he wanted. [Threatening Clarification: You will be added to my target prioritization list. Congratulations. Current placement: third. Reason: insult, coupled with a predictable lack of creativity.]
The young Mandalorian stiffened, his steps suddenly out of sync with the others, and was about to say something, but his captain's hand snapped up, forestalling whatever response might have come from his mouth. Watching, the commander didn't turn back, didn't even look back once; he just slowly lowered his hand and kept walking. After that, the formation fell silent once again.
"Hey," Beside me, Vila bit down on her lower lip, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter as she couldn't remain quiet. She leaned in towards HK, just enough to whisper, "Third? Who's first?"
[Answer: Always Revan. It is a tradition.]
"What?" I flinched, looking back at him all of a sudden. "Can you repeat that?"
[Curious Answer: Repeat what?]
"Who is first on your list?"
[Confused Answer: Accessing... Sorry, the requested data is corrupted.]
Furrowing my brows... I couldn't tell what he was thinking in that rusty head of his... Haaah... No matter, for now I can push it down and start focusing instead on the passage of corridors, as it was either HK avoiding the topic... Or there was indeed a problem with his memory core. And if it was the latter, I believed him, because the amount of data in there, thousands of years of history... that would be indeed corrupted, more than one way. But... Since we began interacting with Mandalorians, I was sure it had been triggering something in his core. As for the name, Revan? I wasn't surprised Vila didn't react; she read less than I did, but... I will need to look into this further, especially if we are back to Yavin.
Focusing my eyes back at where we were, the tower felt larger down on this level, like a city stacked vertically, and each partition we passed by seemed to shift in tone. There were training halls where unarmored figures were practicing some kind of martial arts. Then we walked past armories and blacksmiths, along with a hangar bay where I caught sight of the squat silhouettes of assault craft resting under the banners of different clans. I knew those partitions I noticed on the outside hid things like this... I bet that there is more than one such hangar down here, ready to release these birds that would intercept anything that got inside the atmosphere, coming for the city. The lower we went, though, taking multiple turbolifts—probably to try and confuse us, as if it would work on a Jedi—the less industrial it all became, until finally we reached a section that felt quieter. Audibly quieter. There was actual soundproofing on this level.
Then, suddenly, two armored figures peeled off ahead of us and keyed a heavy door. The panels slid open with a hydraulic sigh, revealing our residence behind them. I blinked with genuine surprise because, honestly, I expected to see something much worse than this one. It wasn't a cell, nor was it some kind of hole in the barracks.
The space within the room was broad and circular in design, built around a central hearth-like emitter that had a steady orange glow. The walls were a mixture of stone and brushed steel, functional, yes, but not entirely bare. Couches lined one curve of the chamber; opposite them, a dining surface large enough for four people. There were racks with sealed containers standing ready with foodstuffs, as far as I could tell from the entrance. At least they were not ration packs, but hearty portions that only needed a bit of care before being made ready to eat.
Most striking was the window opposite us. It was a wide transparisteel pane that dominated half the chamber, offering a view across the capital from still at least a hundred meters up in the air. Looking at it, still in the middle of the night, the city stretched outward in an ordered and predesigned sprawl, punctuated by the same domes and parade grounds we saw while flying in. But this time around, its lights were much stronger, filled with the red and green signs coming from the traffic lanes. From here, Mandalore looked much more alive than from above.
"Not bad," Vila whistled, wandering in without hesitation. She turned in a slow circle, her lekku swaying behind her. "Practical, but… nice. I could get used to this."
[Correction: Substandard. Structural weaknesses: fifty-seven. Possible firing angles: thirty-two. Escape routes: four, two suicidal. Addendum: Acceptable, as a temporary nest, but it is much easier to assault this place than to defend it.]
"HK," I muttered, "don't redecorate. I don't think they would appreciate it."
[Disappointed Statement: Spoilsport.]
While he grumbled, the guards filed in behind us, their captain stepping forward. I guess it was time for him to speak to me again. But before that, from a pouch on his belt, he produced three cards. They were thin plates of brushed metal, each etched with the clan sigils of the mythosaur around the edge and a unique design in the center that I hadn't seen before. He handed one to Vila, one to me, and, after a beat of hesitation, one to HK.
"These identify you as guests of the Mand'alor," he said, trying his best to keep his voice flat, "They will open your quarters and grant you access to certain lower floors. Abuse them, and they will stop working... And all your privileges will be revoked. By force."
"Scary," Vila smirked, taking it without hesitation.
"Lower floors?" I asked, turning mine over in my hand, watching how the etching shimmered faintly, light breaking apart into colors and flowing along the sigils like liquid metal.
"For example, the Hall of Legacy," the captain answered, "or the dojo. Workshops, archives, a mess hall, places that are open to the public, and facilities open to honored guests." He finished, and I could feel the last two words were a bit hard for him to repeat back to us, "Remember, Jedi!" He added, just so he could stomach calling us guests, "You walk among warriors... Don't try to feel superior here. Be respectful... You will be watched."
"I think your idea of us is faulty," Vila flicked her card between her fingers, shaking her head. "Anyway, a dojo, hm? I still remember someone asking for a fight. Maybe I'll check it out."
"I'd rather you didn't antagonize them," I muttered, trying to keep the amicable atmosphere up as much as possible.
"Oh, come on. They'd love it. Wouldn't you, metalheads?"
"..."
[Observation: The Hall of Legacy will allow me to refine my target priority list. Recommendation: We should visit immediately.]
"HK," I sighed, pocketing the card, but to my luck, the Honor Guard didn't react.
"..." In the end, the captain gestured curtly to his men, and they began filing out at once. But, at the threshold, he looked back once, "You will be summoned when the Mand'alor requires you. Until then, rest or train. Do whatever you Jedi do, but do not get lost..." And, as I expected him to close the door, he added one more warning to it, "Or get killed."
Only then did the door seal behind them, leaving us alone.
For a moment, we just looked at each other in silence before shrugging in unison. Vila, trying out the comfort of our room, sprawled across one of the stone couches, stretching out like she owned it.
"Meh... I had better... I don't like this." She groaned, grimacing. "They should learn something from the nobility on other planets. They know how to relax, so I heard!"
"Are you sure that would fit them?" I asked, walking up to her, sitting down, but she was right. Stone couches weren't it... Ugh. Stiff... Too stiff!
"I don't care what fits them!" She continued complaining, "The thing is, when they have guests, those guests expect to be treated right. Even if their culture works differently!"
"Be happy we are treated as guests!" I joked, but it wasn't really a joke.
I watched as HK moved to the window and pressed his mismatched limbs against the transparisteel as if measuring its durability. Just don't break it, I said under my breath while standing up, and I walked to the center of the chamber. For a moment, I stood by the hearthlight, letting my eyes wander across the city beyond, thinking.
"HK."
[Affirmation: I am listening.]
"What's up with your comments in the past few days?" I asked, curious about his surfacing memories.
[Honest Answer: My memory core is damaged. Disconnected data streams are being entered into my current recordings without my conscious prompting. Addendum: I am working on sealing and fixing the data leak.]
"Do you think they are old memories?" Vila also asked, getting curious.
[Conclusion: Highly possible. Clarification: They are disjoint and confusing, with no relation to my current presence and functionality. Ignore it.]
"It is still part of you," I offered, walking up to him, "Maybe it's like being in a coma and getting amnesia or something. You are just starting to remember some things, that's all."
[Disgusted Statement: Don't treat me as a meatbag. I am a professional Hunter-Killer droid, personally designed by...]
"By?" Vila and I asked at the same time.
[...]
"HK?"
[Query: What is my current designation?]
"Well, we named you HK-O1, because you had the HK in your data stream and are clearly an Old model and the First I had seen of your kind, so... O1."
[...]
"What? Don't like it?" Vila asked.
[Answer: It will suffice...]
"Huh..." She looked at me, raising her eyebrows, "This doesn't seem like you, HK."
"I agree." I joined, and now both of us were looking at him, "Come, HK! Let's get down... Let's visit this Hall of theirs! The Unifier was watching you, so maybe he knows more than he lets on."
"He did?" Vila glanced at me, surprised, and even HK turned his head.
"Yeah." I nodded, gazing back at them, "I am pretty sure of that."
[Reluctant Agreement: Let's visit it. It may not be a complete waste of time.]
"You just said a few minutes ago to go there..." Vila rolled her eyes as we headed towards the door.
[Hurtful Remark: I did not.]
"Liar." She answered in a snap.
[Reassuring Answer: Droids can't lie.]
Well... about that... Vila and I exchanged a sarcastic look before answering in unison.
"We all know that you are not like the other droids, HK..."