Jedi Insurgency 331

Upon taking his seat, Revan calmly appraised the pirates, smugglers, and adventurers before him. 

For several seconds, the only answer came from the rain. It tapped against the beetle-shell lanterns and ran down the pavilion roof in soft pitter-patter sounds. Around the final table, the men who had entered this tournament for the sake of Merson were now left breathless. 

They had all heard what followed Revan through the galaxy: genocide, cracked cities, and a minty green healing light that could restore limbs & cure every known disease. They had heard the smaller stories, too. Revan had slain men over a false line in a report, a lie over a cargo count, or an insult directed at his students. None of the men present knew which accounts had been embellished, and which were truthful, not even Hondo Ohnaka, one of his subordinates. 

The figure in white belonged to another age: a General from more than three thousand years earlier, now commanding a new generation of Jedi and soldiers for the Republic. 

Roland Durand gathered his courage, and knowing that this was his chance, he took the chair opposite Revan. He had guarded the charter all night, this final match should belong to him! 

“Let us play.” Roland said, barely containing the shaking in his hands as he shuffled his deck. 

Revan studied the man for a moment as if he were a dunce, then turned his attention to everyone else. “I have a use for each of you. I offer power, fame, riches, and a place in the government we are building. Each of you will receive authority suited to your abilities, and compensation that could produce generational wealth.” 

Roland’s expression barely changed as he drew himself a full hand. “You have not said what your terms of service are.” 

“You will deliver food, medicine, fuel, repair parts, and other necessities to Republic worlds under Imperial blockade. And in time, you will raid Imperial supply convoys and redirect their cargo to the worlds that I deem necessary.” Revan coolly answered back. 

“And what is to happen to Merson?” Roland asked.

“A winner has been chosen amongst you.” Revan airily replied. 

Roland’s thumb rested against his card, and he scowled. “You planned this from the very beginning.” 

“We all wish to change our fate, Mr. Durand. What better place than a gambling house?” Revan questioned back, idly shuffling a pile of cards from somewhere, then disappearing them just as quick. 

Roland had spent years learning to smile while his mother dictated his life. What was one more master if it meant achieving his dream…then he could find an opportunity to rid himself of this parasite once in command of the Durand family. 

Revan saw the calculation settle behind his eyes, and steepled his fingers. “You wish to replace your mother, I can grant you that opportunity.” 

Roland’s composure began to fail as his inner thoughts were so easily seen through by the mysterious masked man. “You offer a great deal to a man you have just met.” He eventually spat out. 

“As I stated. I have a use for you. Whether you agree with my terms or not, you shall be used.” Revan meaningfully stated. 

Roland considered that, and his green skin turned somewhat milk white as his imagination ran wild. 

Nym leaned into the table, one arm draped over his chair. The pose made him appear like a careless vagrant, yet the intelligence behind his eyes belied the true state of his being. 

“You’ve named the work, it's very reasonable. What’s my share?” Nym directly questioned, testing Revan's bottom line. 

“Command of the irregular fleet. A commission to strike Imperial logistics. You keep the agreed portion of captured cargo and the ships your crews take in the operation.” Revan succinctly replied. 

“And if I already have ships, money, and more enemies than I can afford?” Nym asked, crossing his arms. 

“Then you want to outlive them.” Revan said in a meaningful tone. 

Nym’s eyes narrowed, letting silence be his answer. 

“You have everything one can seize by force. Nym, the tyrant of Lok, fears no man and now that the Hutts have begun a civil war, his ambitions have soared. Yet life is so fleeting. For someone to survive more than a century in this business, you understand better than most. What I offer you is the one thing you need most.” Revan intensely replied, strong green healing lights flashing between his gloved fingertips. 

Nym’s fingers stopped drumming on the chair, and his breath hitched as hunger consumed him. “You mean immortality.”

“I can give it to you.” Revan whispered. 

Nym studied him for a long moment. “You’re asking me to trust a promise that large.”

“You have access to the DarkNet. I don't believe you haven't witnessed the footage of my miracles.” Revan continued to speak in a dark, sibilant voice. 

The pirate’s gaze flicked toward the card table. He had made his fortune by spotting the hidden cost in a generous offer. Revan had given him no easy guarantee, but he had given him a target no rival could match.

Nym looked back at the masked man, barely preventing his green slimy face from showing his desire. “I’ll command the fleet, and follow your lead in this war. We’ll discuss the rest when your side has proved it can keep a promise.”

“Agreed.” Revan chuckled, and snapping his fingers, released Nym from a [Mind Trick], revealing between the two men that any offer of ‘immortality’ had been both private, and entirely tailor made to Nym's desires. Everyone else present-with the exception of HK-51 J-had all witnessed a completely different scene of negotiation. 

Jorj Car’das smiled, folding his hands before him. The dark haired Human was every bit the polite diplomat at that moment. 

“You make recruitment sound remarkably simple, Order Master. A seat, a title, a share of the cargo, and a place in history. What man wouldn't want to become a footnote in that grand tapestry?” The smuggler asked. 

He kept his tone friendly, but this was only on the surface. In truth, he was digging for information to report back to his friend, Thrawn. 

“Will Hondo and Nym hold their own command?” Car’das asked. “Or will they be summoned whenever your council requires a deniable fleet to commit some warcrime?”

Hondo’s face lost its smile, and Nym narrowed his eyes as he realized how dangerous this line of questioning truly was. Especially since it came from an intelligence broker. 

Revan stared Jorj down as he replied. “They will keep command of their crews. And they will receive the intelligence and legal authority necessary for the work, falling under the auspices of Republic law. Privateers sanctioned by the government. A neat, and legal path to combating the Empire, wouldn't you say?” 

“Pirates rarely enjoy being on the side of the law.” Car’das sarcastically muttered.

“Neither do Generals during a war.” Revan joked. 

Car’das inclined his head, then turned a card between two fingers appearing as if he was deep in thought. “This potential cooperation is a great undertaking so close to another great event. I heard about Yon’s wedding on Umbara. Should we prepare gifts for the alliance between him and his Umbaran bride?”

This time, Revan inclined his head, remaining silent. 

“Something practical, then. A generator allotment, perhaps. Or maybe a shipyard contract to show how dedicated we all are. Right, guy? We can all chip in our creds for our new master.” Car'das enthusiastically turned to the others, and pitched this ‘great’ idea. 

His fellow pirates & criminal scum shot him incredibly ugly looks, but with the boogieman sitting at their table, they couldn't actually disagree, right? 

“That will not be necessary. I have need of your expertise, not your resources.” Revan shook his head, and held out a hand to forestall any more discussions regarding this matter. 

Car’das lowered the card in his hand. In his mind, he tabled the Umbara question for later. If he joined in now, he could act as the perfect mole for Thrawn. 

“Then I accept the intelligence post. I can produce new smuggling channels, and identify which Imperial depots are poorly protected. I leave the heavy lifting to you capable gentlemen.” Car'das said, flashing a smile at Hondo & Nym. 

“Your contributions will save many lives.” Revan sincerely stated, his voice seeming to carry a double meaning to it, but Car'das merely chuckled along, holding a glass up in salute. 

Villie had watched Revan throughout the exchange with an attention that bordered on reverence. He leaned forward, eager like an attention starved puppy dog. 

“I congratulate you, Master Revan. Jedi, soldiers, pirates, politicians, you have persuaded a remarkable number of dangerous people to follow your banner. Some would call it a trick, but we both know better.” Villie said ingratiatingly. 

“Some would.” Revan calmly replied. 

Villie’s smile widened. “I call it the finest recruitment in the galaxy. I am eager to learn what my share would be.”

“I see you are skilled at facilitating deals. You will arrange the purchase and sale of captured Imperial equipment, commission repairs, and keep the routes supplied.” Revan succinctly stated as if he had already thought long and hard about such matters. 

Villie looked delighted, and repeatedly nodded along. “You've convinced me, I accept!”

Embo the assassin tugged on the brim of his hat, and raised his eyes to stare into that intimidating mask. “If I join, will you teach me the methods you keep secret? The ways to kill without warning. I want you to critique my skills.”

Revan regarded Embo’s shadow first, then his hat, his gloved hands, his casual, yet lethal posture. “Your timing is your strong suit, and your hat throws are controlled, very nice. However, you leave your right side open after the release, and you depend too heavily on an opponent's reactions.” 

“Will you teach me?” Embo inquired once more. 

“Serve as an enforcer for two years first, then we will talk. I am a busy man.” 

“Understood.” Embo nodded, accepting these terms. 

Revan then turned to the tiny winged Toydarian, and he squeaked his answer without the Jedi needing to say a word. 

“I accept!” Reti readily supplied. 

“...” Revan stared at the alien, momentarily speechless. 

Hondo rose halfway from his chair and lifted his glass. “To my old friend Revan, who arrives in style, and leaves with half the Underworld on his payroll.”

“Gentlemen. I present to you, Hondo Ohnaka, the next Pirate King of Merson.” Revan stated, gesturing to the already celebratory Weequay. 

“What place do you have for me?” Hondo rhetorically asked. “King, eh?! Something with a flag. A title that sounds good when announced. Perhaps a chair that swivels. That is why we keep you around, eh, Revan? Always making us little people smile!”

“Take it.” Revan sarcastically muttered, tossing an exaggeratedly bright golden crown at Hondo from who knew where. 

The last representative of this impromptu criminal council had not spoken. HK-51 J sat perfectly still, his photoreceptors fixed on Revan. He had entered the tournament to secure Merson for him, little did he know, his master had set everything up beforehand. All he could think was: as expected of Revan. 

At that moment, the droid dealer moved through another hand. Roland put down a card, still lost in his thoughts of what to do once he won the game of Pazaak, and became ruler of Merson. 

“...” Revan was speechless again. 

The Jedi in white waved his hand, then the world ‘shattered’ into a million different cracks. Everyone at the table came to as if they had awakened from a stupor, and when they looked around, Revan was gone. 

“Where is he? Where is Revan?” Roland asked a guard of his. 

“Revan?!” The guard exclaimed in shock, looking around vigilantly. 

The rest of the guards present also looked around, clueless. 

Hondo, Nym, and Car'das all realized what had happened at the same time, and each one had lost a bit of their bluster. They all thought the same thing: 

Was he even here to begin with? 

~~~~~~~

AN: Well, I didn't want to do a full on Pazaak match beat for beat, but got to mention my favorite SW minigame, so I'm satisfied~