Coruscant was a shimmering jewel of artificial light, but as the fourth week of the eleventh month of 20 BBY unfolded, the "Maverick" saw only the cracks in the setting. To the public, the Republic was celebrating a string of victories; to the Grand Army of the Republic, the 596th 'Maverick's Roughnecks' was a miracle legion. But to Revan Shan, the reality was a ticking clock with a very loud, very annoying alarm set to "Extinction."
Shore leave on Coruscant was usually a time for the 596th to blow off steam in the high-end cantinas of the Upper Levels or the gritty gambling dens of 1313. But while his men rested, Revan was engaged in the most extensive "Industrial Audit" of his life.
The Great Dechipping: A Hidden Crusade
In the hangar of the Sovereign's Grace, currently docked in a private sector of the orbital shipyards, Revan stood watching a line of thousands of new clone troopers from the recently assigned reinforcements. Officially, they were undergoing "High-Intensity Neuro-Hygiene Scans" to ensure they hadn't been compromised by the same "virus" that had struck Clone Tup.
In reality, Revan and Cortana were performing mass extractions.
"Master, the integration of the 31,000 new troopers is proceeding at 88% efficiency," Cortana's voice hummed in his gauntlet. "The automated surgical units are extracting the inhibitor chips at a rate of four hundred units per hour. I've disguised the synaptic signatures to appear as routine neural-pattern updates on the GAR servers."
Revan leaned against a crate, popping a lemon candy into his mouth. He was clad in his matte-black robes, the Beskar Pauldrons gleaming. "Good. Palpatine thinks he just gave me more toys to play with. He doesn't realize he's just paying for me to expand my own private, free-thinking army. Try to be nice, Cortana, but never fail to be kind—make sure the boys get a double ration of high-grade caf after their surgery. Brain-scrubbing is thirsty work."
While the troopers were being freed, Revan's engineering droids were busy with the new fleet additions. The Venators Arbitrator, Dream, and Vanguard were being stripped of their standard-issue Republic gear.
The Upgrade Package:
* Shielding: Retrofitting with 2x Dreadnought Sovereign-class deflector shields.
* Engines: Class 0.75 Hyperdrive with a Class 1 Backup.
* Tactical: Direct uplink to the Centurion Tactical Core and Cortana's sub-logic patch.
* Weapons: Kyber-Quantum processing arrays for fire control.
"It's like giving a V-wing the heart of a supernova," Revan mused, checking a data-pad. "Admiral Kaine is going to have a field day with these. Six Venators. I'm basically my own sector fleet now."
Operation: The Talanorr Extraction
While the fleet refit was a matter of logistics, the mission at the Temple was a matter of the soul. Revan met with Master Yaddle in a secluded meditation chamber beneath the Room of a Thousand Fountains.
"The time has come, Yaddle," Revan said, his voice dropping the sass for a moment of cold, ancient clarity. "The shadows in the Chancellor's office are no longer hiding. I've prepped the Black Pearl. We're extracting the first wave of 260 younglings tonight."
Yaddle looked at him, her large eyes full of sorrow. "A great risk, this is. If found, the Council... believe us traitors, they might."
"The Council is busy arguing about the color of the curtains while the house is on fire," Revan quipped. "They won't find us. I'm using the Automatic Stygium Stealth Generator and the Abyss Compass. We aren't just going to another planet; we're going to a world that doesn't exist on Republic star-charts."
The extraction was a masterclass in clandestine movement. Revan partnered with HK-47 and Chopper to coordinate the move.
"Statement: I have secured the corridor, Master. The organic guards are currently experiencing a 'systemic sensory blackout' thanks to a localized ion pulse. I did not terminate them. It was a struggle, but I practiced... 'kindness'."
"Good droid," Revan patted HK's Beskar-alloy arm. "Chopper, how's the ship?"
Chopper let out a series of frantic, binary squawks, waving a mechanical arm toward the hangar where the Black Pearl sat, masked by a cloaking field.
"He says the younglings are all aboard and complaining about the lack of snacks," Cortana translated.
Revan led Yaddle and the 260 younglings through the shadows. Using Force Stealth, he masked their collective presence from the Temple's sensitive security sensors. Once aboard the XS Stock Light Freighter, Revan engaged the Abyss Compass.
The journey to Talanorr was a blur of hyperspace corridors that defied standard physics. The Abyss Compass hummed, cutting through the gravitational anomalies that guarded the hidden world. When they arrived, the planet's golden atmosphere and lush gardens felt like a dream compared to the duracrete smog of Coruscant.
Waiting at the landing pad was Zee, the protocol droid Revan had rescued.
"Admin Zee, at your service!" the droid chirped, bowing as the younglings stepped off the ramp. "I have prepared the dormitories, the learning centers, and the greenhouses. Master Revan, the security grid is at 100% capacity."
"Zee, meet your new students," Revan said, turning to Yaddle. "This is your haven. You are the last line of defense here. If the galaxy goes dark, you keep the light burning on Talanorr."
Yaddle nodded, her hand resting on a young initiate's shoulder. "A sanctuary, you have built. Thank you, Revan."
The Archive Sabotage: The Maverick's Goodbye
Returning to Coruscant via a "Jump-Snap" maneuver, Revan didn't go back to his quarters. He went to the Jedi Archives.
He walked past the towering shelves of holocrons and data-crystals, nodding to a distracted Madame Jocasta Nu. He wasn't there to loot—not this time. He was there to audit.
Utilizing his gauntlets, Revan planted localized, Kyber-Quantum remote explosive charges at key structural nodes within the archives and the central server hub.
"Palpatine wants the knowledge of the Jedi to build his Inquisitorius," Revan whispered to Cortana. "He wants the names of every Force-sensitive child. He wants the secrets of our alchemy. Well, he can have the ashes."
He then interfaced with the primary HoloNet transmitter of the Temple. Using his Advanced Engineering and Kyber-Quantum Informatics doctorates, he buried a dormant, recursive logic-gate deep within the Temple's emergency broadcast system.
"What are you doing, Sir?" Cortana asked.
"I'm leaving a message for the survivors," Revan said, his fingers flying across the terminal. "A 'Doctor's' prescription for survival."
He recorded the message, his voice calm, firm, and devoid of his usual sass:
> "The Republic has fallen. The Jedi are now being hunted. Stay away from Coruscant and be careful of Palpatine and those he sends to hunt you. Stay hiding, stay kind, and know that the Jedi live on. The Maverick's door is always open in the shadows."
>
He set the trigger. The moment the encrypted "Order 66" signal hit the Temple's relay, the message would broadcast on all Jedi frequencies, and three seconds later, the Archive charges would detonate, turning the Sith's potential prize into a molten ruin of durasteel and melted Kyber.
Conclusion: The End of 20 BBY
As the week ended and the calendar shifted into the final month of 20 BBY, Revan Shan stood on the balcony of his Level 1313 penthouse. Below, the city was oblivious. The Senate was still arguing, the Jedi were still fighting, and the Sith were still scheming.
But the board had changed. Two legions of dechipped clones were ready. 260 younglings were safe on a planet that didn't exist. The Archives were rigged. And the "Big Short" was only gaining momentum.
"Month twelve is coming, Cortana," Revan said, looking at the stars. "The last year of the Republic. How is the Maverick Trust looking?"
"Market projections are staggering, Master. With the recent Separatist losses on Anaxes and Sullust, the short positions on the Trade Federation and Techno Union are valued at an unrealized profit of 120 Trillion credits. By the end of 19 BBY, we will effectively own the economic remnants of the galaxy."
Revan chuckled, a sharp, clever sound. "Try to be nice, do good. But never fail to be kind. And it's very kind of me to ensure the next Empire starts off completely bankrupt."
He popped a final lemon candy. The adventure was about to enter its endgame.
| Current Statistics: Month 11, 20 BBY | Value |
|---|---|
| Maverick Trust Credits | 8.1 Trillion (Base) |
| Short Position Unrealized Profit | 120 Trillion Credits |
| Clone Retirement Trust | 250 Million |
| Total Legion Strength | 126,220 (63,100 per Legion - 2 Legions) |
| Dechipping Status | 100% (596th) / 45% (597th) |
| Talanorr Population | 260 Younglings / 1 Master (Yaddle) |
| Revan's Mood | Strategically Prepared / Sardonically Ready |