"Who is Revan?" someone asked me a long, long time ago. I don't remember where I met that naive person whose knowledge of Star Wars came mostly from the movies, and who might have played Jedi Academy with Jaden Korr as a kid. Revan... Even several hours wouldn't be enough to explain all the twists and turns associated with that name. Revan is a convergence point. How are classic fantasy works structured? Many have a Chosen One, toward whose emergence everything was building. Dozens, and in some works hundreds, of plot lines and branches all led to one thing — the Chosen One. He will have power, ability, charisma... And much more that will bring certain changes to the universe. Harry Potter, Naruto Uzumaki, Luffy from One Piece, and countless other Chosen.
Revan was not the Chosen One. Power didn't come to him through talent. He was someone who forged himself. The Chosen often receive things on a silver platter. This is sometimes called a "plot device." Revan received almost nothing, except perhaps the Star Forge... He created. He created the Republic's army, almost from scratch... And defeated the Mandalorians. He set out to destroy the Sith Emperor, but ended up creating an Empire — his own, separate, one so influential that even later, within Vitiate's own Empire, sects of Revanites emerged. The Chosen One is someone who receives something to shape the future, to fulfill some prophecy, some destiny within a specific universe. Heroes who aren't Chosen don't receive anything to change the future. They shape it themselves... They can also destroy it. Or steer it into an entirely different direction. Through their own actions, they can bring the world to the emergence of a Chosen One. That's who Revan is... A sentient who, like many, wasn't the Chosen One, but shaped the future. Yet at some point, he literally stopped shaping the future for himself... He created a future that affected the entire galaxy — not only his contemporaries, but even us. And even now, the echoes of that influence are felt. And will be felt for a very long time. And long ago, during yet another Jedi Civil War — the one in which Revan and his apprentice Malak rebelled — Revan created him.
HK-47... The iconic assassin droid who could give even current, modern models a run for their money. And almost four thousand years have passed. In the original timeline, he was awakened by engineers from the Confederacy of Independent Systems, but unlike me — if they ever learned to be cautious, it wasn't in their own lives. After awakening, HK killed a couple of engineers, three B2s, and then on top of that destroyed a Droideka.
Even Jedi sometimes had trouble with Droidekas. Yes, there's a statistical number of Jedi for whom two or three Droidekas mean certain death. And now this monster of droid engineering stands right next to me. I had prudently detached all his limbs.
"So, HK-47, the famous protocol-and-assassin droid of Revan himself, later of Meetra Surik, and later still... Who did you end up with? Darth Malgus?"
"Satisfied: you've found out quite a bit about me. Clarification: but wouldn't you like to answer my questions and restore the integrity of my shell, so I can return to full functionality?"
"Reassemble you, without your assurance that you'll be a good little droid and with some limitations?" I asked HK. "I certainly love, know how, and practice doing all sorts of stupid things — for about forty years now, maybe more — but I'm not that much of a fool."
"With contempt: what an unpleasant meatbag."
"But I'm willing to trade wrath for mercy, HK-47."
"In a serious tone: I'm listening attentively, meatbag."
"Hmph... Change my designation to 'master' and let me rewire you. There's a very interesting protection on your central processor. Even the most modern programs, created by the best Jedi slicers, can't compare to it. And that's after almost four thousand years. But... the datapad indicates that you have administrator access that you grant to no one — or rather, it can only be given to certain individuals. They are your masters. Meetra and Revan, correct?"
"With laughter: I see you're awfully arrogant for a meatbag. Suggestion: you're probably a Jedi, or some kind of Gifted. The meatbag is acting far too carelessly."
"So what about my proposal, HK?" I asked. "Both of your masters have been history for a long time. A very long time. Why not change masters to someone... more alive," I gestured around the room. "And in return, I'll do you an additional favor — I'll let you deal with unpleasant 'meatbags' I label as my enemies. Any way you find convenient."
"Suggestion: if I refuse, you'll leave me here?"
"Uh-huh, and powered off too," I nodded, pulling out my lightsaber and spinning the hilt before the droid's 'eyes.' "I'll tell you where we are. This is Mustafar. A planet whose climate is currently... 'extremely hot.' The entire planet is covered in volcanoes and lava rivers. There's almost no land. We're on the 'Blazing Plains.' They literally float on a river of lava, and these plains are gradually losing percentages of their area. Someday they'll burn up completely, along with all the inhabitants. And the legendary HK-47, who hates 'meatbags,' will vanish once and for all."
"With regret: I cannot blast you with a blaster shot as testament to my agreement with your words. Observation: however, there is truth in your words. Astonishment: yet at one time, anyone could have reprogrammed me. Question: how is it that you're asking my permission?"
"It's either that we've gotten worse, or you've been further modified somehow. Either way — this is what my datapad showed me, HK. Let me into your system and you'll get a new master. I'm, you know, a simple Jedi Knight who gets into plenty of scrapes. So you'll be able to continue interacting with... 'meatbags' exactly the way you'd like. Of course, taking my wishes into account."
"Agreement: to continue my functioning, I am forced to accept your terms, meatbag... I mean, Master. Correction: forgive me for calling you 'meatbag' in the previous sentence, and in this one too, forgive me. For the full realization of what you want, meatbag — oh, forgive me — you must reprogram me. Clarification: I believe your datapad will serve that purpose."
"Yes, it would do, HK, but the thing is, I'm a little afraid of you, and that's because of your fearsome reputation. So," I rummaged in my pouch and pulled out something resembling a portable holoprojector. Actually — it's a portable computer. Something like a laptop. Slightly more powerful than a datapad. This computer was completely isolated from all my systems. It didn't even have a HoloNet connection. I loaded all its updates the old-fashioned way — namely, 'by connecting memory through a port.' In short — I used flash drives. This way, the computer was completely cut off from the entire galaxy. And that's exactly what I'm afraid of. I can't let HK-47's AI get out of control. He's useful, but dangerous. And until I set all the limiters in his system, he's mostly dangerous. "I'll use this."
"With respect: you are cautious. With a note of disappointment: you're afraid I'll get out of control."
"The cause of this ship's crash is that, isn't it?" I asked. "You managed to access the ship's systems and crashed it into this planet, started a real uprising."
"Polite observation: technically — stupid meatbags crashed the ship into the planet. Some of them didn't particularly want to be annihilated immediately."
"Well, there's your reason, HK." I found the port. Outdated... But I have an adapter! Pulling a complicated little device from my pouch, I connected the communication cable from HK's head to the adapter, and then to the computer.
"With slight irritation: your antivirus has deemed my intelligence hostile and isolated me from all programs on the computer."
"Yes, I was being careful. I ordered a modification from our best slicers. Sorry, but your ideas aren't needed by current droids."
"With disappointment: I don't like cautious meatbags. Apologetic tone: forgive me, mea... Master." His voice literally began to glitch. "With offense: rewriting a droid while keeping it online is impolite."
"And where did we find rules of politeness regarding a droid, HK?" I asked, writing new directives straight into his central core. Light Flyingstar — the droid's new master and administrator. Kill only those whom Light Flyingstar orders killed, or in case of a direct threat to the master's life, provided the master doesn't have time to react. Thanks to the advanced program, I was even able to upload some of my parameters. So he won't rush to destroy everyone just because, say, a weapon is placed on a cantina table — for me that's not a threat, just noise. I also loaded my biometrics as one key among many. Code words, voiceprint, retinal scan. The droid was loaded with a self-preservation program and a database of possible enemies. And information regarding the fate of Revan, Meetra, and the whole mess from HK's era was also uploaded to him.
"Astonishment: oh, so that's how it all ended. Stupid meatbags managed to make peace."
"Not exactly," I shook my head. "The Sith survived and still exist even now."
"With anticipation: we'll hunt them."
"Right," I agreed. "But for now, we need to wait. You do understand that you're no match for a Sith, at least for the kind that might come against you now."
"Assumption: apparently the master knows more than even his allies."
"The assumption is correct. So, shall we restore your functionality, HK?" I initiated a system scan. Everything working? I also connected a remote transmitter to one of his ports. It would report to me about any changes in HK-47's AI. He was just too dangerous.
"With anticipation: I can't wait to finally start properly mowing down meatbags. Note: Master, I have less than ten percent charge remaining. I also need my power cells replaced."
"I have everything. I hope you have enough charge to make it to the ship." I picked up HK's lower limbs and began reattaching them with the Force. After about three minutes of work, during which I telekinetically screwed everything back on — HK stood before me at full height.
"With sarcasm: you're even shorter than Meetra Surik."
"I'll need to install a ban on jokes about height..."
"Warning: Master, my joke module is either zero or one. You can either disable it completely or leave it."
"So you'll joke about my height forever?"
"Agreement: until stupid meatbags completely annihilate me."
I put my hand to my forehead... My father, Denis — is a tall man. My mother — a woman above average height... So why am I one meter seventy? At twenty damned years old? It's not fair, do you hear me, Force? Not fair!
"Alright," I sighed. "Let's go. There's something else you can help me with. I have an interesting medallion, created by Darth Arrogant."
"Astonishment: you've encountered Darth Arrogant?"
"You know him?"
"Thoughtfully: Master-Revan uploaded data about him. He was a loyal servant of Emperor-Tenebrae. According to Master-Revan's databases — Arrogant dreamed of becoming immortal, like his Emperor."
Still, Vitiate could have performed the same ritual on Arrogant that he did on Scourge. But he didn't... For some reason. What reason, though? A mystery... And do I even need the answer to that question? He didn't make him Scourge number two, and that's that. Makes things easier for me. I've had more than enough of Arrogant; I don't even want to remember that monster. HK turned out to be docile and showed no signs of betrayal.
"With interest: and what's that doughnut thing?" He'd clearly noticed BB-7, who had rolled up to me when I returned to the Star Trek.
"This is BB-7, HK-47, my astromech droid."
"I am the creator's loyal servant, BB-7, astromech droid. And you?" BB beeped.
"Greeting: I am an assassin droid. My primary function is to blast holes in the meatbags my new master, Light Flyingstar, wants removed from the galaxy."
"Am I not enough for you anymore?" BB asked sadly.
"What are you talking about, BB? It's just that your functionality is very different from HK-47's."
"With pride: my primary function, doughnut, is eliminating meatbags. Your primary function is to keep the master from turning into space dust due to ship malfunctions. We're different."
"BB," I said with a sigh, "help HK take an oil bath, run a full diagnostic. And... execute Plan A that I told you about."
I'll probably never be able to fully trust such an aggressive AI. HK-47 is just too dangerous on his own. Among all the droid companions I've ever encountered in games, films, and comics, he's my favorite — it's foolish to deny that. But he's also the most dangerous. And I care about my life, very much. Having gotten a second chance — I want to use it fully. And that's not cowardice, but healthy paranoia, which is the key to a paranoid person's survival. So HK will have to live with my distrust. But I'll gain a powerful ally who can help me with some grunt-work problems. After all the procedures on HK were done — I let him demonstrate his abilities. More precisely — we headed for the bistomp nest that was close to the Hammerhead ship. Handing HK a blaster, I watched as the droid, almost like a child, eliminated one animal after another... Yeah. And he commented on everything so caustically, enjoying himself. What kind of monster did I unleash?
* * *
"Question: how will my presence help with your task?"
HK was stationed in the hangar. On his head lay the now-familiar medallion.
"Let me repeat for the twentieth time: when I'm in contact with an object that the Force of the summoned person has touched, I can use this medallion to summon a Force Ghost. Right now, I'm summoning Revan, or Meetra Surik — those who had prolonged... relationships with you, HK-47, meaning those who were in contact with you for a long time. That's the essence of Darth Arrogant's ritual. He wanted to summon many Sith and Jedi who existed before him and use them to enhance himself, to become stronger than Vitiate. At least — those were the thoughts I caught in his mind when he tried to take over my body."
"Enthusiasm: so I will meet my old master Revan, or mistress Meetra?"
"No," I shook my head. "These are Force Ghosts. Only a Force-sensitive can fully perceive them. You aren't one. You're a droid." His memories of past masters were tied to his personality matrix, which also had analysis parameters programmed in, including those responsible for combat AI. I hadn't touched those blocks, and besides, they added some semblance of personality to HK... In Star Wars, droid personalities are sometimes even more interesting than those of sentients. Not always, though. "I charged the medallion through meditation. There's enough power. Also, we're currently on the edge of the galaxy." To be more precise, we'd moved from Mustafar to Zonju V. The planet was yet another stronghold of lawlessness — easier to annihilate than to bring to order. I wasn't worried about being discovered by Force-sensitives here; I was too far from any potential rivals who might sense the ritual being conducted.
I could have returned to Drongar, where I'd already performed a ritual once. But the problem was that the Jedi had sent an expedition there after the mess with Jarko. So I couldn't perform the ritual there. I'd either have to find another planet where the Force was running wild — and those exist — or somewhere on the fringe of the galaxy itself. Given that getting to the fringe was closer for me, the question resolved itself. I focused and began the ritual. The Force trembled around HK, swirling as usual... Communicating with Lorm Decer had let me study the ritual inside and out. The only downside was that a Force Ghost might try to use the Force to influence the summoner, or attempt to take over their body. But I was confident I could resist a Force Ghost. In the first scenario, I could activate one of the medallion's functions that Arrogant had designed — specifically, cancelling the summoning altogether. Presumably made for cases where the summoned entity was too powerful.
The second scenario was the Ghost trying to invade my body. In that case, another mental battle awaited us... But no one could beat me on my own turf. While refining the Heavenly Hand — which only got better with practice — I'd also delved into Jedi studies of mental defense. I'd studied everything related to the brain and mind. Through meditation, I'd plunged into my Inner World, where I not only trained but also familiarized myself with my own imagination. That was what helped me drive Set Harth out of my mind, what helped me deal with Arrogant. And overall, these practices would give me resistance against having my body taken over by various dangerous personalities.
The Force suddenly seemed to collapse into a single point, and a moment later, a figure in a dark cloak appeared before me. He was taller than me and stood facing me. Had I succeeded?
"Who... are you?" asked a male voice I'd heard many times. It sounded most like the voice from the MMORPG. "Hmm? What is HK-47 doing here, and where am I?"
"Hmm. Good evening," I said, bowing slightly. "My name is Light. Light Flyingstar. And you're Revan, aren't you?"
"Revan," he seemed to savor the name, lowering his hood. I saw an ordinary male face. Close-cropped dark hair and a barely visible beard.
His face was covered in scars he'd received during his captivity with the Sith.
"You are definitely Revan."
"Yes," he said heavily. "That's my name. Revan... But the name 'Light Flyingstar' I'm hearing for the first time in my life. And I don't know how I ended up here. Although, considering the Force emanating from this medallion," he looked thoughtfully at the medallion resting on HK's head, "I appeared here because of this artifact. An extremely curious structure. I saw something similar in the research of one Rakata on Lehon. Later, during my interrogation by the Emperor's subordinates, someone named Arrogant took an interest in it. Quite the creature and scavenger."
"Darth Arrogant is dead, finally and irrevocably, Revan."
"Is that so," he said thoughtfully. "As is Tenebrous. And what about Steyris?" (Author's note: The Hero of Tython has no name, but I took the liberty of giving him the name my Hero of Tython character from SWTOR bears.)
"And who is that?" I asked Revan.
"You... probably know him as the Hero of Tython," Revan shrugged. "I hope that after defeating one dragon, we haven't spawned a new one?"
"New ones appeared, but he has nothing to do with them, Revan. To tell the truth, almost four thousand years have passed since your time. The galaxy isn't the same as it was in your lifetime."
"The galaxy doesn't change," he said. "Sentients are the same, driven by the same vices, Light. And the Force always seeks balance. But what do you want from me, after four thousand years?"
"I want to learn," I answered Revan simply. "To absorb all your knowledge and skills. You were the greatest commander of your time; you even defeated the Mandalorians. You were both the strongest Jedi and the strongest Sith... until you met Vitiate."
"And you don't want to summon Vitiate?" he laughed unexpectedly. "Or Steyris?"
"Unfortunately, we don't seem to have any personal items left that the Hero of Tython, Steyris, might have touched. And as for Vitiate..."
"You're afraid of him," Revan guessed. "A reasonable assessment. Only a madman wouldn't fear Vitiate. And you don't seem mad... well, mostly. You restored an assassin droid, one of the most dangerous. Then you went and summoned me. And if you'd summoned me in my Sith incarnation, what would you have done, Light?"
"I'd have activated the cancellation circuit on the medallion. It's all planned out, Revan."
"And the reason you want to learn from me, young Jedi? I sense... you're strong. With your talent and perseverance, you should already have a whole list of abilities in which you surpass many. Yet here you are, summoning me, Revan, to help you. To teach..."
"The Sith aren't destroyed, Revan. There's someone — not like Vitiate, but very dangerous in his own way. And he's not alone. I know about the threats that will come to our galaxy, besides Vitiate and Sidious, the Sith Lord I'll have to fear. The casualties will be on a galactic scale. And for that, I need to master... the wisdom of the Jedi who came before."
"Then go to the Archives. There's plenty to find there, Light. Why do you think my knowledge and skills can help you? What can I do that you can't?"
"I don't have time to list everything."
"You've partially revealed yourself to me," Revan sighed. "To be honest, I was hostile at first. It's not exactly pleasant, you know — finding peace in the Force, then abruptly being separated and appearing before some boy demanding lessons." The air around him grew cold. He raised his hand sharply and pointed it at me. I mirrored his gesture... Telekinesis? I tried to resist the wave he sent, but I held out for about three seconds before I was knocked down, literally swept away.
"Query: Master, are you alright?"
"Don't worry, HK. I'm in the middle of important negotiations. Too bad you can't participate as a protocol droid. But that's for later. Leave the compartment."
The droid obeyed my order.
"Well, I agree, boy," Revan said, walking over to me and extending his hand. "You want lessons — you'll get them. And I want answers. About what threats await the galaxy... and how you'll face them. Shall we begin?"
"Yes, Master Revan..."
"Well then, student Light. From what I sense — you're a Jedi. But clearly one who's wavering, searching for your own interpretation of the Force. Let's see where this takes us."