The Rishi Maze was a smudge of starlight on the horizon of the Outer Rim, a sprawling satellite galaxy that felt less like a collection of stars and more like a celestial obstacle course. On the bridge of the Sovereign's Grace, Revan Shan stood with his arms crossed, his hood pulled forward to shadow his face. He wasn't looking at the tactical displays or the shimmering blue holomap of the sector. Instead, he was staring at a small, steaming cup of Earl Grey tea balanced precariously on the edge of a Beskar-plated console.
"Admiral Kaine," Revan said, his voice light and breezy, carrying that distinct "Doctor-ish" cadence. "Do you ever get the feeling the universe is trying to tell us something? Like, for instance, when a quiet listening post suddenly starts broadcasting an 'All Clear' signal that's a bit too rhythmic? It's like a heartbeat. A very metallic, very suspicious heartbeat."
Admiral Kaine looked up from his data-pad. "The Rishi Moon station, General. They've reported no Separatist activity, but as you noted, the comms signature is... off. Our sensors indicate a Lucrehulk-class battleship and several Munificents are lurking just outside the system's gravitational shadow."
Revan sighed, taking a sip of his tea. "It's a trap. A classic, 'look over there while I hit you with a brick' maneuver. I remember this part. Well, I remember the idea of it. Grievous wants Kamino. He wants to cut the head off the snake before it even learns to hiss." He turned, his black cloak rippling. "Cortana, how's the Black Pearl? Is she feeling shy today?"
"Stealth generators are at 100%, Master," Cortana's voice chirped from his gauntlet. "The Invisible Cloak is tuned to the Rishi Moon's specific background radiation. We could park on their front lawn and they wouldn't notice us until we started complaining about the grass."
"Good. Admiral, keep the 596th at the edge of the system. Let them think the 'All Clear' worked. If the Separatists drop in, I want the Uprising and the Phoenix to perform a 'Jump-Snap' directly into their flank. And please, try to be nice, but if you have to blow something up, do it with some flair."
The Stealth Descent
The Black Pearl slipped out of the Sovereign's Grace like a shadow detaching from a larger darkness. Inside, Revan sat in the pilot's seat, his hands dancing across the Kyber-quantum controls. Beside him, HK-47 was checking the calibration on his blaster rifle, his red optical sensors glowing with a predatory dimness.
"Statement: Master, I do hope the droids at this facility are the BX-series Commandos. They have such a satisfying crunch when their chassis are compromised."
"Don't get ahead of yourself, HK. We're here to be kind. And by kind, I mean rescuing the poor 'Shiny' clones who are currently being hunted by your metallic cousins," Revan remarked. He looked at the sensor feed. Below them, the desolate, craggy surface of the Rishi Moon rushed up to meet them.
The station sat atop a high plateau, its signal dish rotating slowly. Revan didn't land at the main pad. He brought the Black Pearl down into a jagged ravine several kilometers away, the ship's sublight engines purring at a whisper-quiet 1800 KPH before settling onto the dust.
"Commander Check, take twenty men. EMP grenades only for the first minute. I want the droids confused before they're dismantled. Cortana, link my gauntlet to the station's internal frequency. I want to hear what the 'clones' are saying."
Revan vaulted out of the ship, his boots hitting the rocky ground. He didn't use a speeder. Instead, he channeled the Force into his legs—Force Enhance—and began a steady, lung-bursting sprint toward the station, a blur of black and red against the grey stone.
The "Rookies" and the Rescue
As he approached the station's ventilation shafts, Revan felt them through the Force—the frantic, flickering signatures of life. Not many. Five? No, three. Echo, Fives, and Hevy. He remembered their names from a life that felt like a dream of Earth movies. They were "Rookies," fresh-faced and currently terrified, trapped on the exterior catwalks while BX droids patrolled the interior.
Revan reached the catwalk just as a giant Rishi eel lunged at one of the clones. Before the creature could snap its jaws, Revan flicked his wrist. Force Stasis. The eel froze mid-air, its prehistoric eyes widening. With a second flick—Force Push—he sent the beast tumbling back into the abyss.
"Whoa! What was that?" a clone gasped, his white armor stained with soot.
Revan stepped out of the shadows, his hood masking his face. "A very large, very rude fish. And you three must be the welcoming committee. Terribly sorry we didn't call ahead, the phones were busy being sabotaged."
"A Jedi?" another clone—Fives—asked, raising his blaster.
"Master Revan Shan, actually. But you can call me 'the man who's about to save your station,'" Revan said, popping a lemon candy into his mouth. "Listen closely. The 'clones' inside are BX-series Commando droids. They've taken over the base to signal a Separatist fleet. If that fleet arrives, Kamino is next on the menu."
"We know," Hevy said, his voice gruff. "We were going to blow the station. Use the liquid Tibanna to take out the signal."
"A bold plan! Very 'Twelve' of you. But let's see if we can't save the station and kill the droids first. I hate wasting a good base; the spice-latte machines are usually quite decent."
The Purge of the Commando Droids
Revan didn't wait for a reply. He tapped his gauntlet. "Commander Check, now."
From the ridges above, the 327th strike team opened fire. Not with blasters, but with EMP grenades. Blue electrical arcs danced across the station's exterior. Inside, the BX droids—faster and smarter than standard B1s—recovering quickly, began to return fire.
Revan moved. He didn't draw his sabers. He used his Sonic Screwdriver. Pointing it at the station's blast doors, he hummed a Cyan-Kyber frequency. Click. The doors hissed open, and Revan slid inside, his cloak flaring like wings.
Two BX droids, dressed in stolen clone armor, leveled their rifles. Revan simply raised a hand. Mechu-deru. He didn't just understand the droids; he spoke to their internal logic. Sleep, he whispered through the Force. The droids' processors spiked, their cooling fans screaming before their systems shut down in a cascade of logic errors.
"Statement: Out of my way, meat-bags! I have a quota to fill!" HK-47 charged past Revan, his vibroblade whistling through the air. He didn't just kill the droids; he disassembled them with a surgeon's precision and a maniac's enthusiasm.
Revan reached the main command console. He saw the "All Clear" beacon pulsing. "Cortana, can we spoof this? Make it look like the station is being attacked by a massive Republic fleet, but keep the 'All Clear' active for the Separatist sensors?"
"I can try, Master, but it will require a Kyber-Quantum processing loop. I'll need Eleven to act as a bridge."
"Do it."
As Cortana worked, Revan felt a massive ripple in the Force. Space-time groaned.
"Master, Separatist fleet dropping into the system," Cortana warned. "General Grievous has arrived. And he's brought friends."
The Battle for the Rishi Maze
The sky above the Rishi Moon suddenly filled with the jagged shapes of Munificent-class frigates and the towering bulk of Grievous's flagship, the Malevolence's sister-ship. They expected to see a quiet station.
Instead, they found the 596th Fleet waiting for them.
"Admiral Kaine, execute 'Jump-Snap' Maneuver Gamma!" Revan barked into his comms.
The Sovereign's Grace didn't just appear; it materialized in a flash of white light directly beneath the lead Munificent. Its triple capital-class shields flared blue as it took the brunt of the Separatist fire. Then, its 750 turbolaser batteries opened up.
The Uprising and the Phoenix followed suit, flanking the Separatist frigates. These weren't standard Venators. Their Kyber-tuned power systems allowed them to fire faster and harder than anything the CIS had encountered.
"Admiral, the Separatists are attempting to launch Vulture droids," Cortana reported.
"Launch the 'Star-Sass' and the ARC-170s," Revan ordered from the station floor. "And tell Commander Ruff to initiate the 'Maverick's Dominion' boarding protocol on the trailing frigate. I want that ship's navigation data."
The Sacrifice and the Kindness
Inside the station, Hevy was dragging a crate of Tibanna toward the central reactor. "The signal isn't stopping! If the fleet doesn't see the 'All Clear' drop, Kamino is toast!"
Revan looked at the young clone. He knew Hevy was supposed to die here. In the movies, he stayed behind to manually detonate the charges.
"Hevy, stop," Revan said, his voice uncharacteristically firm.
"I have to do this, General! The remote is busted!"
"No, you don't. Try to be nice, Hevy, but never fail to be kind—especially to yourself." Revan pulled his Sonic Screwdriver and pointed it at the remote in Hevy's hand. He didn't just fix the circuitry; he boosted the signal using his gauntlet's Kyber-quantum informatics. "There. It'll work from the Black Pearl."
"But—"
"Go! Get to the ship! That's an order from a very old, very tired man who doesn't like losing people!"
Revan used Force Pull to yank Hevy toward the exit, where Echo and Fives were waiting. As the droids began to swarm the command center, Revan stood alone. He drew his twin Westar 35s.
"Come on then, you rusty buckets! I have fourteen doctorates and a very short temper!"
He unleashed a Force Storm—not of Sith lightning, but a whirlwind of kinetic energy and debris that tore through the droid ranks. As his clones boarded the Black Pearl, Revan vaulted into the air, using Force Jump to reach the hangar just as the remote clicked.
The Rishi Station didn't just explode; it disintegrated in a spectacular plume of Tibanna-blue fire. The "All Clear" signal vanished instantly.
Month 7, 21 BBY: The Aftermath
The Separatist fleet, seeing the signal drop and the 596th Fleet's relentless assault, began to retreat. They hadn't expected a Jedi Maverick with a stealth-equipped fleet to be babysitting a backwater moon.
Back on the Sovereign's Grace, Revan sat in his Command Chair, his hood down for once, showing his youthful, 23-year-old face. Hevy, Echo, and Fives stood before him, their armor scorched but their lives intact.
"You saved us, Sir," Fives said, his voice full of awe.
"I just did a bit of DIY," Revan dismissed with a wave of his hand. "Besides, I needed a reason to test the new shielding on the Phoenix."
He turned to his gauntlet. "Cortana, status on the 'Maverick Trust'?"
"The salvage from the Rishi system—including three disabled BX droid cores and two crates of refined Tibanna—has been processed, Master," Cortana replied. "Kaelen reports a 12% spike in our 'Stable Rhythmic Anchors' due to the Separatist retreat. Also, the Clone Retirement Trust has received its monthly contribution. The boys are safe."
Revan leaned back, popping another lemon candy. "Month seven. And we've already broken the plot. I wonder what Palpatine is thinking right now? Probably something along the lines of 'Who is this annoying man and why is he ruining my war?'"
"Master, a message from Luthen," Cortana interrupted. "He says the 'Vision' network has picked up a strange energy signature in the Mortis sector. He thinks 'Tyranus' is looking for something ancient."
Revan's eyes sharpened. "Mortis. Now that sounds like an adventure. Tell the Admiral to set a course. But first... does anyone know where I can get a decent spice-latte in this sector? I've had a very long day."
As the 596th Fleet turned toward the deep stars, the Jedi Maverick smiled. The timeline was changing, the loot was piling up, and he was just getting started.