The Mandalorian Wild Space was a graveyard of silent stars and drifting debris, a sector of the galaxy where the Force didn't just whisper—it groaned under the weight of ancient grudges. At the heart of a jagged asteroid belt, the Black Pearl hung suspended in the void, its Beskar-reinforced hull blending perfectly with the shadows. Mag-clamped to its dorsal hull, the Star-Sass looked like a predatory bird hitching a ride on a larger beast.
Revan Shan stood in the airlock, adjusting the seals on his gauntlets. He was dressed for an expedition: the custom black robes with Beskar-filament weave, the lightweight alloy pauldrons, and a bandolier heavy with specialized grenades. His hood was pulled low, but the legendary mask of his ancestor remained locked away in the ship's Beskar safe. For now, he was just a man looking for a bit of history and a lot of loot.
"Cortana, stay with the ship," Revan commanded. "If the asteroid drift gets too close, give it a polite nudge with the ion cannons. HK, Miner, Eleven, D6—with me. It's time to see what the Sith left in the cupboards."
"Statement: I have already recalibrated my optical sensors for the darkness of 'eerie subterranean death-traps,' Master," HK-47 remarked, his Beskar-Phrik chassis clanking as he checked the power cell of his Westar 35s. "I hope the local guardians are biological. The sound of organic terror is much more resonant in confined spaces."
The Vault of the Shadow-Wraiths
The hidden temple was carved directly into the heart of a massive, hollowed-out planetoid. As the landing party stepped off the Black Pearl's ramp, their boots crunched on obsidian dust. The architecture was unmistakably Old Republic Sith: jagged obsidian pillars, towering statues with weeping eyes, and a palpable sense of cold that bit through even Revan's thermal-regulated armor.
M1-NR (Miner), the Librarian Protocol Droid, hovered forward, his Kyber-Quantum core pulsing with a soft blue light as he scanned the inscriptions on the walls. "General, these glyphs date back to the Sacking of Coruscant. This was a repository for the 'Shadow-Wraiths,' an elite cabal of Sith assassins who specialized in Mandalorian-style wetwork."
"Assassins. How original," Revan sighed, his Sonic Screwdriver whirring as he pointed it at a massive stone door. Whirr-click-beep. The ancient locking mechanism, a complex gears-and-gravitics system, groaned and slid aside. "D6, Eleven—scan for traps. I'd rather not be turned into a kebab today."
Eleven (R2-B11) extended two of his four extra control arms, projecting a high-resolution holographic grid of the hallway. D6 (R2D6) chirped a warning, highlighting a series of micro-vibration sensors embedded in the floor.
"Noted," Revan said. He closed his eyes, tapping into his 23,000 Midichlorian count. He didn't think about the physics; he felt the flow of the Force in the room. With a subtle flick of his fingers—Force Stealth combined with Force Levitation—he drifted over the sensors, his droids following in a synchronized hover.
Inside the inner sanctum, they found the prize. In the center of the room sat a trio of Ancient Massassi Data-Crystals and a Sith-Alchemy Transmutation holocron. But it was the secondary loot that made Revan's eyes sparkle behind his hood.
* Loot Secured: 200kg of Sith-era Phrik (pure grade), 5 purified Kyber-focal crystals, and a fragmented star-chart detailing "gravitational anchors" in the Unknown Regions.
"Miner, secure the holocron. Eleven, grab the Phrik," Revan ordered. "HK, why are you staring at that statue?"
"Observation: It has a very flammable look to it, Master. I was merely contemplating the most efficient trajectory for a thermal detonator."
"Save it for the exit," Revan chuckled. "History is meant to be looted, not incinerated."
Reflection of the Death Watch
While Revan was deep in the shadows of the temple, the consequences of his actions on Mandalore were rippling through the remnants of Death Watch. On a hidden moon base, Bo-Katan Kryze stood by a viewport, staring at the stars. Beside her, several warriors whispered in hushed tones about the "Butcher" who had returned.
They discussed how he had worn the mask—the actual, original mask of the man who had nearly extinguished their culture. But more confusing was how he had acted. He had dismantled their forces, disarmed Pre Vizsla with humiliating ease, and yet... he had left them all alive.
"He didn't just win," Bo-Katan muttered, her hand touching the hilt of her dagger. "He treated us like children having a tantrum. He took the Darksaber not as a conqueror, but as someone confiscating a toy from a dangerous toddler."
The terror wasn't in his violence; it was in his indifference to their "warrior's code." To Revan Shan, they weren't ancient enemies—they were a logistical problem to be solved with kindness and a very large bank account.
Coruscant: Shore Leave and Reunions
By the time Month 12 of 21 BBY arrived, the 596th 'Maverick's Roughnecks' had returned to Coruscant. The Senate was still debating the "Mandalorian Intervention," but Revan ignored the political noise. He had authorized a full month of shore leave for his 31,000 clones.
Under the pseudonym Dr. John Smith, Revan spent his days at the Maverick Research Institute on Chandrila, coordinating with Sarah Jane to move the 1,400 tons of salvaged alloys into secure storage. But there was one errand he refused to delegate.
He traveled to a quiet sector of the Jedi Temple's training grounds, far from the prying eyes of the Council. Waiting there was a massive, stoic Lasat in specialized Beskar-Phrik armor: Jaro Tapal. Beside him, a young, red-haired boy was trying—and failing—to balance a training remote.
"Master Shan," Jaro said, bowing deeply. "I heard about Umbara. And Mandalore. The Council is... concerned. I, however, am just glad you're still making trouble."
"Trouble is a full-time job, Jaro," Revan said, pulling back his hood and flashing a sassy grin. "And look at you. Still wearing the armor I gave you. It suits you. And this must be the famous Cal Kestis."
The boy, Cal, looked up in awe. "You're the Maverick? The one who fought the four-armed General?"
"Guilty as charged," Revan said. He reached into his robes and pulled out a sleek, silver-and-cyan device. "Jaro says you've been struggling with technical repairs on your practice sabers. This is for you, Cal."
He handed the boy a Sonic Screwdriver, identical in function to his own but scaled for smaller hands. Cal took it as if it were made of glass.
"It's not a weapon," Revan explained, kneeling down to the boy's level. "It's a tool for curiosity. It opens doors, it fixes things, it diagnoses the world around you. But more importantly, it represents a choice."
Revan looked at Jaro, then back to Cal. "Being a Jedi isn't just about how well you can swing a glowing stick. It's about knowing when to put the stick down. The galaxy is a very loud, very angry place right now. Everyone wants to be a hero, or a martyr, or a conqueror. But it's much harder—and much more important—to just be kind."
He spent the afternoon helping Jaro teach Cal the basics of the tool, using it to recalibrate a nearby irrigation droid. "Kindness isn't a weakness, Cal. It's the ultimate form of strength. It means you have the power to destroy, but the wisdom to heal."
The Beskar Safe: Assets Secured
As the final week of the year approached, Revan returned to the Black Pearl. He spent hours in the secure vault, a room lined with pure Beskar and Cortosis.
He looked at the Darksaber sitting on a velvet cushion. To the Mandalorians, it was the soul of their people. To the Sith, it was a tool of dominion. To Revan, it was an asset to be protected. He placed it inside the massive safe.
Beside it, he arranged the Original Mask of Revan, the Personal Holocron, and the Infinite Holocron containing the sum of the Jedi Temple's knowledge. He added a credit chit containing a "rainy day" fund of a few billion credits, just in case.
"There," Revan whispered. "The past is secure. Now, about the future."
"Master," Cortana's voice filled the vault. "The financial trio—Kaelen, Vara, and Jax—have sent the end-of-year report. The Maverick Trust has officially cleared the 7 Trillion credit mark. The Clone Retirement Trust is projected to hit a 400% return by the middle of next year."
"Excellent. We're going to need it," Revan said, closing the safe with a heavy thud.
Current Status: Month 12, 21 BBY
As the year drew to a close, Revan Shan stood on the bridge of the Sovereign's Grace, looking out at the glittering lights of Coruscant. The 596th was rested and refitted. The loot was stored. The allies were armed.
The first year of the Clone Wars was over, but the "Maverick" knew that the real shadows were only just beginning to lengthen.
| Asset | Location | Status |
| Maverick Trust | Lehon/Chandrila | 7.1 Trillion Credits |
| Clone Retirement Trust | Diversified Anchors | 215 Million Credits |
| The Darksaber | Black Pearl Safe | Secured|
| Mandalorian Alloy | Chandrila Institute | 1,400 Tons Secured |
"One year down," Revan mused, sipping a perfectly brewed spice-latte. "Two to go before the fireworks really start. Cortana, remind me to buy more lemon candy. I have a feeling 20 BBY is going to be very sour."