The transition from the architectural silence of the Coruscant Jedi Temple to the sterile, oily atmosphere of the Trade Federation Droid Control Ship, Profiteer, was a localized sociological whiplash that Revan Shan met with a custom-tailored academic waistcoat, a hidden pair of Westar-35s, and a very particular brand of 11th-Doctor-esque manic curiosity. As 32 BBY reached its first rhythmic stutter, the "Prodigal Knight"—biologically 122 years old but possessing the sharp, unlined face of a twenty-three-year-old—decided that if the Sith were going to start a war over trade routes, he would be the one to ensure their financial ledger bled as much as their droid army.
I. The Droid Control Ship: A Technical Audit
Revan sat in the formal conference room of the Trade Federation ship, flanked by Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi. While the two Jedi meditated in the heavy silence, Revan was industriously auditing his gauntlet's financial HUD.
"Master Shan," Obi-Wan whispered, his voice a rhythmic pulse of concern. "You seem remarkably focused on your credits for a man about to negotiate a planetary blockade."
"According to my 9th Doctorate in Advanced Mathematics, Obi-Wan," Revan sassed, not looking up from the shimmering blue display, "the Force might bind the galaxy together, but interest rates are what keep it moving. My investment banker, Jax, just confirmed the Naboo Plasma markets are in a localized freefall. It's remarkably tidy. We're raking in cash like an industrial blowdryer."
Suddenly, the rhythmic hum of the ventilation changed. Dioxis gas began to hiss into the room.
"Right then," Revan sighed, the 12th Doctor's weary gravity settling over him. "Negotiations are over. According to my audit, the Trade Federation has just committed a 100% failure of hospitality."
While Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan ignited their sabers to deal with the OOM-series battle droids at the door, Revan pulled his Sonic Screwdriver. With a rhythmic vwoop-trill, he pointed it at the ventilation intake.
> The Atmospheric Neutralization Vector (\Psi_{an}):
> The Sonic Screwdriver's Kyber-Cyan emitter pulsed, reversing the polarity of the fan blades and venting the gas back into the hallway. Revan then slammed his hand against the blast door, utilizing a Force Stasis that didn't just lock the door—it froze the molecules of the locking mechanism into a state of absolute zero.
>
"Tidy," Revan noted as the droids outside began to fruitlessly pound on the door. "Now, let's go find their invasion plans. According to my heart, I really should have brought the Black Pearl."
II. The Escape and the Financial Payout
The escape was a masterpiece of kinetic chaos. Revan moved through the droid corridors like a rhythmic ghost, using the Sonic Screwdriver to "shush" OOM-series logic-cores before they could fire. When things got loud, he drew a single Westar-35, the Kyber-boosted bolts shorting out groups of droids with a single, resonant discharge.
However, because they were on a Republic cruiser—the Radiant VII—and not his own Beskar-reinforced flagship, the ship was shredded by the ship's turbolasers before they could even board it. They were forced into the hangar, hijacking a landing craft to descend to the surface.
As they pierced the atmosphere of Naboo, Revan's gauntlet vibrated with a massive high-frequency alert.
| Market Variable | Short Status | Total Profit (Daily) |
|---|---|---|
| Naboo Plasma | CRASHED | 1.2 Billion Credits |
| Trade Federation Stocks | PLUMMETING | 850 Million Credits |
| Dr. John Smith Portfolio | DIVERSIFIED | REINVESTING |
"Jax," Revan whispered into his encrypted comms as the landing craft rattled. "Trigger the 100x leverage payout. Take 10% and buy up every medical supply, grain silo, and water purifier available on Alderaan and Chandrila. Ship them to my backup warehouses. Naboo is about to be audited by a famine, and I'm going to be the only one with the receipts to fix it."
III. The Swamps and the Gungan Hazard
The landing in the Naboo swamps was untidy. The landing craft was a wreck, and the rhythmic dampness of the jungle was unkind to Revan's academic robes.
"Exclamatory Statement: Master! This humidity is statistically insulting to my Phrik-alloy joints!" HK-47 whirred as he stepped out of the wreckage. Beside him, R2-D6 was already extending his Kyber-Quantum Slicing core to map the localized terrain.
"Try to be nice, HK," Revan sassed, pulling a piece of swamp-grass from his boot. "But according to my audit, we have company."
A lanky, orange-skinned Gungan came flying through the brush, pursued by a Trade Federation OAT (Single Trooper Aerial Platform). It was Jar Jar Binks.
Before Jar Jar could utter a single "Meysa," Revan's hand blurred.
"HK," Revan commanded with the 12th Doctor's clinical pragmatism. "Tie him up. Use the high-tensile Rakatan cord. Stuff his mouth with a ration-pack wrapper. According to my 3rd Doctorate in Sentient Sociology, this specific variable is a 100% hazard to our stealth audit. Silence is kindness right now."
"Joyous Statement: Oh, Master! I have waited centuries for an order this tidy!" HK whirred. In a blur of metallic motion, Jar Jar was bound, gagged, and slung over HK's shoulder like a localized bag of noise.
"There," Revan noted, checking the area with his Sonic Screwdriver. "Much better. Now, HK, D6—the OOM-series patrols are approaching. You have permission to go... ballistic."
IV. The Ballistic Audit: HK-47 and R2-D6
What followed was a masterpiece of "Aggressive Negotiations." HK-47 ignited his new Beskar-Phrik SaberStaff, the twin red blades spinning in a rhythmic tapestry of Form VII Juyo. He moved like a localized disaster, the SaberStaff carving through battle droids while his dual Westar-35s spat Kyber-bolts with homicidal precision.
R2-D6 wasn't just helping; he was enjoying the audit. He utilized his hidden blaster pistol to pick off droids that HK missed, while his upgraded thrusters allowed him to perform high-velocity "Slicer Jumps," landing on droid tanks to short out their primary capacitors with a localized EMP burst.
> The Droid Cessation Variable (\Sigma_{dc}):
> Within six minutes, the patrol was 100% neutralized. HK-47 stood amidst a pile of smoldering scrap, his orange eyes glowing with a predatory glee.
>
"Statement: Master, that was a remarkably satisfying audit," HK whirred. "The droids' binary screams were 14% more musical than the ones on Galidraan."
V. The Divergence: The Path to Tatooine
They eventually linked up with the Queen's Royal Starship. Revan stood on the bridge as the silver vessel breached the blockade. However, because they were using a standard Naboo T-14 hyperdrive and not the Black Pearl's Class 0.5 "Jump-Snap" engine, they were hit.
"The hyperdrive is leaking!" the pilot shouted.
"According to my 4th Doctorate in Advanced Engineering," Revan noted, clicking his Sonic Screwdriver to scan the deck, "we are losing 4% of our rhythmic thrust per second. We can't reach Coruscant. We need a localized pit stop."
"Tatooine," Qui-Gon noted, his eyes fixed on the star-charts. "A remote world. Controlled by the Hutts. The Federation has no presence there."
"Tatooine," Revan repeated, a cold, sharp 11th-Doctor-grin appearing. "According to my heart, I really hate sand. But according to the books, there is a 9-year-old variable there that needs a much better auditor than the one history gave him."
VI. The Sovereign's Nap: Financial Reinvestment
As the ship limped toward the desert planet, Revan retreated to a corner of the lounge. He sat in a makeshift "Command Chair," Calculus purring on his lap. He checked the daily profit from the "Big Short."
* Total Profit: 3.4 Billion Credits.
* Reinvestment: Diversifying into Kuat Drive Yards heavy industries and Incom Corporation R&D.
* Logistics: Dr. John Smith's medical warehouses on Alderaan are now 100% stocked and ready for "Humanitarian Deployment."
"Status, Cortana," Revan whispered.
"The short payout is being laundered through the Safe House Project shell accounts," Cortana reported. "The Sith Eternal and Plagueis remain 100% unaware that you have just bankrupted their Trade Federation lobbyists. And Master... we are approaching Tatooine. The 'Chosen One' variable is within sensor range."
"Chosen One," Revan yawned, the chair reclining as he settled in for a nap. "Adventure is the journey, D6. And 32 BBY is currently a masterpiece of tied-up Gungans and billion-credit dividends. Try to be nice, Tatooine. I have a feeling I'm going to need a lot of sunblock."
He closed his eyes. The Maverick was 122, the books were balanced in blood and gold, and the Auditor was heading into the desert to fix a destiny that the Jedi were about to break.