The transition from the absolute, crystalline silence of Ilum to the swaying, amber-gold horizons of Lothal was a localized aesthetic mercy that Revan Shan met with a pair of polarized sunglasses, a light linen tunic over his Phrik-weave robes, and a fresh cup of Naboo-caf. As 85 BBY settled into the galactic calendar, the Black Pearl breached the clouds of the Outer Rim world.
Revan sat in his Sovereign's Command Chair, which was currently reclined at a forty-two-degree "Agricultural Contemplation" angle. He was biologically seventy years old now—a full human lifetime for many—yet the mirror still reflected the sharp, unlined face of a twenty-three-year-old. The Force Immortality and Force Heal techniques he had mastered over the decades weren't just about vanity; they were a localized suspension of entropy.
Calculus, the orange-and-brown Loth-cat, was sitting regally on the dash, his tail twitching in recognition of his ancestral home. Theorem, the silver-and-black kitten, was busy "auditing" the structural integrity of Chewbacca's navigation station, batting at a stray calibration wire.
"You see, Chewie," Revan murmured, his voice a blend of 11th Doctor whimsy and 12th Doctor gravel. "According to my 2nd Doctorate in Planetary Ecology, Lothal is 80% grass, 10% rock, and 10% potential for trouble. But according to my heart, it's a giant playground. Twenty years of travel, twenty years of auditing the stars... and now it's time to start building the 'Maverick's Safety Net'."
Chewbacca let out a resonant, inquisitive roar, gesturing to the proximity sensors.
"Landing sequence complete, Revan," Cortana reported. "I've flagged a localized distress signal in the tall-grass plains. It's not Republic. It's animal."
The Adoption: The Orphaned Pack
Revan stepped off the ramp into the waist-high golden grass, his Sonic Screwdriver humming in a low, "Discovery-trill." He found the source of the signal: a cluster of jagged rocks where four young Loth-cat kittens were huddled together. Their mother was nowhere to be found, likely a victim of the planet's larger predators or a localized "unkindness" of the weather.
"Right then," Revan whispered, kneeling. He didn't use a cage or a net. He used the Feeling. He entered a state of Force Meld with the kittens, projecting a sense of warmth, safety, and—most importantly—lattes.
"According to my 11th Doctorate in Xenobiology, you lot are currently operating at a 100% affection deficit," Revan grinned, picking up a small, white-spotted kitten. "Calculus needs a pack. Theorem needs a distraction. And I need someone to help me nap. Welcome to the Black Pearl. We'll call you Logic, Entropy, Paradox, and Axiom."
Calculus accepted the new additions with a dignified huff, while Theorem immediately organized a high-speed "Tactical Pursuit Audit" through the ship's vents.
The Shadows Grow: Meeting the Trade Federation
The peace of Lothal was interrupted in the mid-months of 85 BBY. A massive, ring-shaped freighter—an early Trade Federation prototype—landed at the primary spaceport of Capital City. They were here to "renegotiate" export duties on Lothal's grain, which was essentially a polite word for bureaucratic extortion.
Revan was sitting in a local cafe, sampling a "Golden-Grass Scone," when two Neimoidian officials, flanked by a squad of rudimentary security droids, approached his table. They had flagged the Black Pearl for a "Localized Infrastructure Tax."
"You are the owner of the black freighter?" the Neimoidian, Lott Dod's younger cousin, wheezed. "Your ship's presence requires a specialized docking tariff of 5,000 credits per solar cycle."
Revan didn't look up. He took a slow sip of his latte. "According to my 5th Doctorate in Galactic Lore & Ethics, a tariff without a ratified Senate treaty is just an 'Aspirational Theft.' And according to my 9th Doctorate in Advanced Mathematics & Logic Programming, your docking fee algorithm is suffering from a localized decimal-place error. It should actually be zero."
The Neimoidian narrowed his eyes. "We are the Trade Federation. Our math is law."
"Brilliant!" Revan stood up, the 11th Doctor's manic energy flaring. "I love math! Let's do some! If I bill you for the Kyber-Quantum interference your ship is causing to the localized Loth-cat migratory patterns—which, according to my 1st Doctorate in Theoretical Physics, is costing the ecosystem 14.2 gigajoules of bio-energy—you actually owe me 500,000 credits."
He pulled out the Sonic Screwdriver, flicking it near the Neimoidian's datapad.
Whirrr-vwoop-trill.
> The Bureaucratic Loop-Hole Equation (\Phi_{tax}):
> The Sonic Screwdriver didn't hack the pad; it simply reorganized the Federation's internal tax-codes into a rhythmic, non-terminating data loop. To the Neimoidian, it suddenly looked like the Maverick was a high-level Republic Auditor with direct clearance from the Chancellor's office.
>
"Wait... Auditor Shan?" the Neimoidian stammered, looking at the screen. "We... we were not informed of a Sector Audit. Our apologies! Please, keep your ship. We shall waive the fees... and perhaps add a localized 'Kindness Credit' to your account."
"Try to be nice, Lott," Revan winked, patting the official on the shoulder. "Do good. But never fail to be kind to the people who grow your scones. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a cat-pack that needs a nap."
The Sovereign Strategy: The Safe House Project
Back on the Black Pearl, Revan sat with Chewie, Cortana, and the droids. He held up a silver-plated datapad.
"Twenty years of travel has taught me one thing, D6," Revan said, his eyes sharpening with the 12th Doctor's intensity. "The galaxy is getting untidy. The Sith are hiding, the Federation is greedy, and the Jedi are stagnant. I'm not a hero, but I'm also not an idiot. We need places to be incognito. We need the Safe House Project."
He displayed a list of planets on the holographic table.
| Planet | Strategy | Status |
|---|---|---|
| Corellia | Purchase (Pseudonym) | High-rise apartment in Blue Sector. Untrackable. |
| Chandrila | Purchase (Pseudonym) | Seaside villa under the name 'Dr. John Smith'. |
| Bespin | Purchase (Pseudonym) | Private mining platform 'Vapor's Edge'. |
| Eriadu | Purchase (Pseudonym) | Industrial loft in the Tarkin Sector. |
| Mon Cala | Purchase (Pseudonym) | Underwater dome in the reef-outskirts. |
| Alderaan | Purchase (Pseudonym) | Mountain lodge in the High Juran. |
| Coruscant | Purchase (Pseudonym) | Sub-level 1313 penthouse (via 'Kindness Fund'). |
| Kuat | Purchase (Pseudonym) | Orbital hangar-suite. |
| Naboo | Build (Hidden) | Underwater bunker in the Gungan abyss. |
| Nar Shaddaa | Build (Hidden) | Sub-basement vault in the Revanite sector. |
| Hoth | Build (Hidden) | Buried ice-base near the High Republic relay. |
| Endor | Build (Hidden) | Camouflaged canopy-nest in the Yawari trees. |
| Takodana | Build (Hidden) | Annex beneath Maz's castle (already prepped). |
| Ryloth | Build (Hidden) | Deep-cave sanctuary in the Brightlands. |
| Ilum | Build (Hidden) | Crystalline meditation-vault (already prepped). |
| Yavin IV | Build (Hidden) | Temple-sub-basement (Auditing the Massassi ruins). |
| Tatooine | Build (Hidden) | Underground oasis near the Dune Sea. |
| Lothal | Build (Hidden) | Subterranean den beneath a localized 'Jedi Spire'. |
"The 'Purchased' sites are for when we need to be seen as socialites, researchers, or wealthy fools," Revan explained. "The 'Built' sites are the real deal. Beskar/Phrik/Cortosis shielding. 10 Kyber/5 Rakatan generators. Industrial Fabricators for food and water. Fully self-sufficient. If the galaxy burns, the Maverick stays cool."
Construction: The Lothal Den
Revan spent the remainder of 85 BBY on Lothal, building his first "Hidden" site. He chose a location deep in the northern mountains, beneath a jagged spire of rock that acted as a natural lightning rod.
Using the Sonic Screwdriver and Mechu-deru, he commanded Eleven and D6 to oversee the excavation.
"According to my 4th Doctorate in Advanced Engineering," Revan noted, "the best way to hide a base is to make it part of the planet's rhythm."
* Shielding: He utilized the Obsidian Armor Weave to line the walls, creating a localized "Stealth Shroud" that absorbed all sensor scans.
* Power: A small Rakatan Thermal Array tapped into the planet's core heat.
* Defense: 5x HK-51 units from the Prodigal Knight were stationed there, along with a localized Kyber-Quantum Slicing tool to spoof any incoming signals.
* Comfort: A 'Vintage' spice-latte machine and a hammock synchronized to the planetary rotation for optimal napping.
The Sovereign's Nap: End of 85 BBY
The year ended with a localized celebration. The kittens (all six of them) were curled up in a pile in the center of the new Lothal Den. Chewbacca was roasting a local "Plains-Fowl," and HK-47 was conducting a "Perimeter Kindness Audit."
Revan slumped into his chair, which had been moved into the den for the night. Calculus was on his lap, and the four new kittens were draped across his shoulders like a furry, rhythmic stole.
"Status, Cortana," Revan whispered.
"The Lothal Den is 100% operational and invisible," Cortana reported. "The Trade Federation has officially left the system, still trying to solve the math-loop you gave them. The 4.3 Billion credits are earning 0.05% interest in the 'Sovereign Fund'. We are officially 'Hidden in Plain Sight'."
"Brilliant," Revan yawned, the chair reclining to the Calculated Nap Angle of 134.5 degrees. "Twenty years of traveling... now it's time for the era of the 'Ghost'. Try to be nice, 84 BBY. I'll see you in the tall grass."
He closed his eyes. The Maverick was seventy years old, but his journey was just getting its second wind. The "Before Naboo" era was beginning, and Revan Shan had a safe house, a cat-pack, and absolutely no intention of being a hero.