Jedi Insurgency 178

The duracrete spires of Nar Shaddaa loomed like ancient monoliths against the smog-choked sky, their lights bleeding through layers of pollution and perpetual night. Flying the shuttlecraft through the city, Corvus followed his map, and after an hour spent in tedious traffic, arrived at his destination. 

Paying for parking, removing his mask so he wouldn't be recognized, and taking a short walk, he now stood outside of a low trafficked area. A giant metal gate was directly ahead. If it weren't for the numerous gunports, and permanently active shield surrounding this building, it would seem like any other. But this one was special. 

More than three thousand years had passed since the Mandalorian Wars, when this enclave had been established. Empires had risen and fallen. The Republic had rotted, been reforged, and rotted again. And now, only months after Order 66, the galaxy once more burned with betrayal and fear. Those high minded ideals that Revan had fought for had come full circle, and the Jedi Order was exactly where it had been so long ago. The cycle of Light triumphing over evil, only to be replaced by the Dark was a tale as old as time. 

In a way, Corvus could see the validity of Kreia's philosophy. Of her bitterness. Anakin Skywalker, the supposed Chosen One was supposed to bring Balance to the Force. Yet whether it be Legends, or Disney, the cycle would continue. Trying to change the galaxy at times almost felt like trying to put out a fire by pissing on it. 

Corvus felt it all through the Force: the silence where the Jedi of the Temple had once sung, and the cries of suffering as this war entered a new phase of catastrophic destruction. 

And yet, this black monolith stuck in the grime of Nar Shaddaa felt right. Locked in an era long since gone, it sent him feelings of want. That there was a beast within desperate to be unleashed. This sensation was foreign to him, yet comforting. It reminded him of his dog back home, how she would become excited and jumped at him every time she heard the word ‘walk.’

Turning to his students, and the two adventurous girls, he saw that each of them felt something different. 

“What do you feel?” He asked, not bothering to point at any one of them in particular. 

“Hunger. Unsatisfying, unfulfilled hunger.” Omega unconsciously chimed in, and clutched her arms as if she were cold. 

“Nonsense.” Yon quickly disagreed. “Clearly there is a deep sense of loyalty from within. Whoever we are here to meet is very dedicated.” The short teen then glanced towards the girls as if to say ‘unlike you.’ 

Triss ignored him-much to his chagrin-and frowned. “I foresee great danger within. Should we open this door, a wave of slaughter will be visited upon this world.” 

Yon, Omega, and Jax wordlessly nodded in agreement. 

Jax, meanwhile, was staring intently at the door, and hadn't said a word. 

“Jax?” 

Reluctantly looking away, the white haired boy turned to meet Corvus’s eyes. 

“Freedom. There is a yearning to leave. To cause destruction. To serve. Yon, Omega, and Triss have assembled pieces of the picture, but I think they're missing something.” Jax slowly replied, whilst stroking his chin deep in thought. 

“Here we go.” Yon rolled his eyes, and pouted. 

Jax ignored his rival, and after another long pause, finished his thought. 

“I sense a quiet fanaticism. A will of sorts grips their hearts…I've only sensed such a thing in those who have been inspired by-” Jax got out, and then swallowed his words. 

Corvus exchanged a glance with his student, and slightly nodded. Jax's deep blue eyes were slightly startled, yet sparkled, and his expression became confident. Without another word, he bowed to Corvus, and took a step back. 

“Oi, Jax, you were just at the best part!” Omega childishly poked him in the side, and jeered. 

Triss held her tongue, and covered a frown within the depths of her hood. 

Yon, meanwhile, maintained his scowl. He realized something was afoot, and didn't like being kept out of the loop. 

“Well done. Interesting analysis from each of you, thank you. Now let us discover what lies behind that door, shall we?” Corvus smiled at them charmingly. 

Omega, and Triss-despite being wary of him-fell to his smooth, unmodulated voice, and classical good looks. The way they treated him compared to when he wore the mask was night and day. 

Yon, meanwhile, had prepared himself to draw a lightsaber at a moment's notice, and Jax had his eyes closed, centering himself in the Force. 

Shaking his head in amusement, he stepped towards a scanner next to the gate. Seconds later, a thin beam of light swept across his face and chest.

“Biometric scan complete.” A dispassionate mechanical voice, intoned. “Identity confirmed: Revan.”

For a heartbeat, nothing happened.

Then the doors hissed, and gears clacked. Hydraulics groaned as the massive slabs of durasteel slid apart, releasing a draft of cold, stagnant air that smelled faintly of oil and ozone. Sensing that he wasn't in any immediate danger, he strode forward with confidence. 

The chamber past the gate was vastly larger than the tower’s exterior suggested. Pale light from bulbs high in the ceiling cast their beams down. From a casual glance, this room was easily on par with a football stadium in terms of size. Shelves lined the area one after another, reminding him of an Amazon super center, or oddly enough, the Galactic Bank vault he had raided months ago. 

Stretching from wall to wall, aisle to aisle, were perfect ranks of perfectly folded metallic cubes. Coming up to his navel, and no larger than a large shipping box that a delivery might carry, they were a sight to behold. 

“What is this? Some ancient durasteel refinery?” Yon asked himself, and ran a finger along one of the racks, finding it to be coated in a thick layer of dust. 

“Droids.” Jax snapped his eyes open, and the ignited his lightsabers with a hiss.

“What?! Like the Battledroids who can unfold themselves?! Is this a CIS trap?!” Yon replied in alarm, and quickly drew his blade. 

The girls were quick to unsheath their weapons as well. 

“I like our odds.” Yon confidently glanced at Corvus, and then turned invisible. 

“Oi, bantha brains, we can't turn invisible!” Omega, seeing how very real this danger was, complained. She then tugged on Jax's sleeve, hoping he could help her out. 

“The door is still open. I shall distract them whilst you two escape.” Jax stood tall, projecting the aura of a protector. 

“We can help a little bit, we aren't useless.” Omega was quick to bounce back, now that she knew Jax was willing to stand by them. 

The entire time they were speaking, the droids were slowly beginning to unfold themselves. Their eyes glowed yellow, and servos creaked as they stood to their full heights. Blasters in hand, and personal energy shields glimmering into being, they silently looked at them. 

“Do not attack.” Corvus loudly spoke, carrying his voice throughout the hall with the Force. 

Jax stood in place, and Yon-wherever he was-also held himself back. Upon hearing the confidence in his voice, Omega & Triss also stuck around. 

The droids stood tall and had an angular design. Their silver-grey durasteel frames were covered in a thin layer of dust, and had a dull sheen. Yellow photoreceptors flickered to life one by one as Corvus crossed the threshold, thousands of murderous intelligences awakened in silent synchrony. Each unit was a relic of ruthless design, programmed with: advanced targeting matrices, adaptive combat protocols, and a core directive built around efficient, enthusiastic slaughter. Indeed, Revan had programmed these droids with a sick sense of humor. 

They were the evolution of the famous KOTOR murder-bot who referred to every organic life form as ‘meatbag.’ 

They were the HK-50 series assassin droids! 

Corvus did not reach for his lightsaber, nor did not slow his pace. The Force coiled around him, calm and absolute. It was as he had sensed. That this place felt right. 

As one, the droids moved, reacting to his presence. 

Their knees struck the deck plating in perfect unison, the sound echoing like a single thunderous impact. Bowing their heads, the whir of their servos synchronizing was an uncanny sight. For a moment, Corvus wished he had the CIS theme playing, as their uniform ranks were eerie in the silence of the chamber. 

Adding on to that eerieness, was when these tens of thousands-possibly hundreds of thousands-of bots all spoke in unison. 

“Statement: Creator and master identified.”

“Declaration: We kneel in obedience.”

“Query resolved: Awaiting orders, Master Revan.”

Corvus stopped at the center of the hall. He looked upon the army, and coldly smiled. 

These tools of terror had been constructed to assassinate key personnel. Revan learned his lesson from the Mandalorian Wars, and instead of waging total war, preferred to snuff out the agitators before a disagreement could escalate into open conflict. It was a total perversion of the Jedi Code, which strived for dialogue first, and only used violence as a last resort. The HK's meanwhile, reveled in violence, and were so sophisticated, that they could copy voices, hack systems, and sow discord between friends in pursuit of their goals. This generalization of their capabilities only scratched the surface of their known feats. 

‘And they're all mine.’ 

To the galaxy beyond these walls, he was a myth, a ghost, a contradiction. Jedi. Sith. Savior. Destroyer. The propaganda machine was in full effect, and most of the people in the galaxy who regularly followed the news had formed their opinion of him. 

To these droids, he was master.

He closed his eyes for a moment, and drank the moment in. The Force flowed through durasteel and circuitry just as it did through flesh and blood. The dark potential here was immense, and eagerly wished to be set free upon the galaxy. 

For a moment, Corvus breathed in those emotions that promised eternal power. Pride, vanity, greed, control. 

The Darkside promised him these things and more. It would be so easy to follow in the steps of Darth Revan. To assassinate everyone who had the slightest disagreement with him, and slaughter any who defied his will. A vision of a reconstituted Empire swirled in his mind. One where he was like a God, his every demand met, his every dark fantasy satisfied. 

Exhaling a turbid breath, his prestige class kicked into effect, and the allure of the Darkside fell off of him like rain being swept away by a windshield wiper. 

Clenching a gloved fist, Corvus reigned in his inner darkness, but did not let it go. Suicidal empathy was how the current era of Jedi met their demise. He had shown himself to be the healer on Tatooine, the emancipator on Malastare, and the warrior on Eriadu. 

Hope had been ignited in those who feared evil. 

It was time he became the shadow on Nar Shaddaa. 

It was time that the scum on this moon felt the fear of their victims. For countless millennia, they had lived comfortably, growing content with success. 

When he opened his eyes, his voice was steady, and crackled with authority. 

“Rise.”

The army waited, perfectly still, ready to carry his will back into the galaxy.

The criminal scum of Nar Shaddaa had forgotten the meaning of the word: consequences. 

Revan would educate them.