Chapitre 64: C64 Padmé?
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"Zakuul," Revan muttered as his spectral form stilled, and a shadow seemed to cross his features.
Peter's brows furrowed. "Zakuul? Isn't that the planet capital of the Eternal Empire?"
Revan's eyes widened in shock, his ghostly form flickering slightly. "Where did you learn that?" he demanded, his voice tinged with suspicion.
Peter leaned back in his chair, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Did you think I wouldn't look you up? Carina said your story was legendary, so I asked her to tell me everything. I even visited the Collector's archives to make sure I didn't miss anything," he explained casually.
Revan frowned, clearly unhappy with Peter's snooping. "I see," he muttered, a note of displeasure in his tone.
Revan's past was complicated, to say the least, with moments of heroism and betrayal intertwined. Starting as a Jedi Knight during a time of turmoil in the galaxy, he quickly rose to prominence for his unparalleled skill in combat and his unwavering dedication to the Jedi Order.
But it was his quest to uncover the truth behind a mysterious Sith threat that would forever change the course of his life. Venturing into the heart of darkness, Revan and his friend Malak encountered the Sith Emperor, Vitiate, ruler of the Eternal Empire.
Seduced by the Emperor's formidable power, they swiftly fell under his sway, becoming his dark servants. And from that moment onward, Revan was christened Darth Revan, while his companion assumed the mantle of Darth Malak.
As a Sith Lord, Revan carved a path of destruction across the galaxy, his power unmatched and his influence far-reaching. Yet, even in the depths of his despair, a glimmer of light remained within him, a flicker of the Jedi he once was.
This inner conflict defined Revan's journey—a constant struggle between the light and the dark, between redemption and damnation.
And it was this struggle that ultimately led him back to the Jedi Order, not by his own volition, but through the efforts of his future wife, a Jedi named Bastila Shan, who saved his life and returned him to the Jedi Temple, where the Council made the decision to erase his memories of his time as a Sith.
Recognizing the need for his formidable skills in the looming battle against the Sith, they guided him back to the path of the Jedi. Thus, Revan returned as the prodigal Jedi knight, ready to confront the darkness that once consumed him.
In the end, Revan's legacy was one of redemption—a testament to the power of hope and the resilience of the human spirit. Yet, Peter sensed that the story didn't end there. However, to his disappointment, the archives yielded nothing beyond Revan's redemption as a Jedi.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Peter asked, curiosity lacing his words.
Revan's expression darkened. "It wasn't your business," he replied curtly.
Peter shook his head, arguing. "It is my business. I'm your apprentice, aren't I?"
Revan let out a scoff. "And if I treated you like a true Sith apprentice, you'd endure days of torture just for questioning me. Would you prefer that?" he asked, amusement evident as Peter paled.
"Yeah… no thanks…" his apprentice muttered.
Revan smirked. "That's what I thought... Besides, some things are better left unsaid."
Peter sighed. "Can't you at least tell me a little? Like, what happened after you returned to the Jedi?"
Revan's gaze hardened, his resolve unbroken. Without another word, he rose from his seat and began to walk away.
"Hey, wait a minute!" Peter called after him.
Revan paused, glancing back at Peter with a hint of annoyance. "What now?" he asked, his patience wearing thin.
Peter took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "If you returned to the Jedi, then how are you a Sith even in death? Can you at least tell me that?" he pressed, his voice tinged with curiosity. "Maybe I can help you…"
Revan hesitated, his gaze clouded with memories of a distant past. "It's complicated," he replied cryptically.
Peter leaned forward, refusing to accept such a vague answer. "That's the second time I've heard that excuse..."
Revan regarded Peter for a long moment, his expression inscrutable. Finally, he spoke, his tone heavy. "This is only half of me," he admitted quietly, his gaze drifting towards the distant horizon.
"What the hell does that even mean?" Peter asked, his confusion evident in his tone.
For a fleeting moment, Revan turned back, his gaze locking with Peter's. "Find out on your own," he said cryptically, before walking off. "Oh, and heed my warning: Stay away from Zakuul. Consider it an order from your master," he called over his shoulder, leaving Peter to ponder his words in confused silence.
Sat alone, Peter could hear the echoes of Revan's cryptic farewell still resonating in his mind. 'This is only half of me,' the words left him stunned. If Revan was only half of his true self, then where was the other half?
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A full day had elapsed since his meeting with Revan. Despite his undying curiosity, Peter decided it was time to shift his focus away from his Sith master's past, at least for the time being. Today's concerns weren't about spectral Sith Lords or ancient wars, but about something far more mundane yet immediately crucial—finances.
Gathering his crew in the palace's spacious conference room, which Carina set up rather recently, Peter eyed each member: Cosmo, Groot, Carina, Oola, and Howard the drunken Duck. Revan's ghostly figure lingered at the back, almost blending into the shadows.
"As you all may or may not know," Peter started, "Carina made a big purchase recently."
Instantly, a collective gaze swiveled towards Carina. Murmurs filled the room, none of them particularly cheerful.
Carina, flustered, began, "I know what you all are thinking, but—"
"No need, Carina," Peter cut in, saving her from the brewing storm. "It was a needed expense. Yeah, it was pricey, but necessary. However," his gaze swept across the room, "it means we're kinda strapped for cash now."
Howard quacked up, "What about the Coaxium mining? Can't we just sell that fuel and be swimming in credits?"
Peter shook his head slightly. "Yes and no. We've got buyers, but they're trying to squeeze us for every penny. They think they can lowball us just because we're new. I believe the last offer we received was only half of the market value, which I am not prepared to accept."
Carina nodded in support, "That's why we're holding off on selling any Coaxium until they agree to pay what it's worth."
Cosmo perked up and asked, "What about taxes? Can we not tax the folks of Knowhere?"
"We will," Peter assured, "but not just yet. I want to give people time to settle in before we start playing taxman."
Howard leaned forward, his voice tinged with sarcasm. "Great, so how do we keep the lights on till then?"
Peter threw his hands up, "That's the million-credit question, isn't it? We could look for some bounties, maybe even steal from some lowlives. But I'd prefer to avoid outright thievery... unless absolutely necessary."
Revan, silent until now, spoke, "And the second point you wanted to discuss?"
"Ah, yes," Peter's eyes lit up with the thrill of a new adventure. "Thanks to Revan here, we've narrowed down the location of Earth—my home planet—to two possible coordinates. Tomorrow, Cosmo and I are heading out to verify these locations. You're all welcome to join." he added with a wry grin, "And while we're out there, we can look for a bounty or two. Might as well make the trip worthwhile, right?"
The room buzzed with renewed energy. The prospect of venturing out to explore the universe was an enticing one.
Groot's rumbling voice vibrated warmly, "I am Groot," signaling his readiness to follow his friend anywhere.
Tired of being locked up in the palace, Howard piped up, "I'll come along too."
Peter raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk crossing his face. "Does this mean you're officially joining the crew?"
Howard scoffed in response, "As if." He said as he walked off, presumably to pack his things.
Turning to Revan, Peter's expression grew hopeful. "What about you, Revan? You coming too?"
Revan nodded silently, his ghostly form giving a firm, albeit spectral, affirmation. After all, he's been confined to the basement of the Jedi Temple for thousands of years, so he's quite eager to get out and stretch his legs.
Carina spoke up, her voice steady, "I'll stay behind and look after the city as usual."
Beside her, Oola nodded in agreement. "I'll stay too, to help Carina."
Peter nodded appreciatively at his crew, their faces full of anticipation. "Alright, team, let's prep. We've got a planet to find, and a fortune to make along the way."
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The next day, Peter paced around the loading bay of the late Cad Bane's ship, ensuring every piece of cargo was securely in place. His crew—Cosmo, Groot, Howard, and Revan waited on the ramp of the ship.
"Alright, everyone, last call for anything you might forget," Peter announced, scanning the group. Everyone appeared prepared. Revan clutched his lightsaber, Howard checked his gun, while Groot and Cosmo carried little with them.
Carina approached Peter, her datapad in hand, her face serious yet hopeful. "Here are the bounties you asked for, Peter," she said, transferring the data to his device with a swift tap.
Peter nodded, his datapad vibrating in his pocket. "I'll check them out later," he mused aloud, eyes scanning the horizon as if he could already see the bounties lining up.
Groot and Howard were the last to board, the former's deep, rumbling voice offering a reassuring "I am Groot," as he passed by Peter.
As the ramp of the ship began to close, Peter turned to wave at Carina and Oola, who stood a safe distance away. "We'll bring back some souvenirs for you, so don't burn the place down without us!" He called out, his voice a mixture of humor and sincerity.
With a final nod, Carina raised her hand in farewell, a determined glimmer in her eye. Oola simply smiled, her expression one of quiet support.
The ship's engines roared to life, the sound echoing through the bay as it lifted off. Inside, Peter settled into the pilot's seat, his fingers dancing across the controls with practiced ease.
Beside him, Cosmo shivered slightly, her eyes reflecting a nervous glint. After all, the last time she was launched into space, she was trapped all alone, waiting for death.
Peter noticed her discomfort and gently patted her head to offer some comfort. "It's going to be okay…" he reassured her.
As they cleared the atmosphere, the star-studded blackness of space enveloped the ship. Peter finally pulled out his datapad, his curiosity piqued. He swiped through the bounties, his eyes scanning each one. Pirates, smugglers, and even a couple of Hutts—they were all there.
But then he froze.
The image on the screen was unmistakable—a Ravager, but not just any Ravager. Stakar Ogord, leader of the Stakar Ravager Clan, his features rugged and authoritative, a striking resemblance to the actor Sylvester Stallone from his past life.
[Insert picture of Stakar here]
As he stared at the picture, memories of Yondu and his brutal clan flashed through Peter's mind, a surge of anger momentarily clouding his judgment.
But he calmed himself, reigning in his emotions with practiced ease. Reading over the description of the bounty, Peter realized that Stakar was far worse than Yondu. The list of crimes was long and vile: piracy, murder, and atrocities Peter could barely bring himself to read. It was all there, in cold, hard data.
A wicked smirk tugged at the corner of Peter's lips as his eyes lingered on the bounty amount—500,000 credits. Not only was this a chance to pad their wallets, but it was also an opportunity for some personal revenge against the Ravagers.
Without hesitation, Peter composed a message to the issuer of the bounty, his fingers tapping rapidly on the screen. The message sent, he leaned back in his chair, awaiting their reply, a mix of satisfaction and determination settling in.
Without even waiting more than a minute, Peter's datapad buzzed urgently, pulling him from his thoughts. His brow raised as he saw that the call was coming through on a secure, high-priority channel, which was both unusual and unexpected.
Putting on his mask, he swiped the screen, answering the call. Instantly, he was greeted not just by a voice, but by the live image of a girl who couldn't be much older than him.
Her face was adorned with the elaborate white and gold face paint typical of Naboo's royalty, enhancing her dignified features. "This is Queen Padmé Amidala of Naboo. I believe you have just responded to my inquiry," she said, her voice calm, authoritative, regal, and unmistakably young.
[Insert picture of Padmé here]
Before Peter could even react, a voice in the background briefly cut through. It was stern and unmistakably authoritative. "Your Highness, you needn't trouble yourself with such matters. It is my duty to handle these situations," the voice said, tinged with a protective urgency.
Padmé glanced over her shoulder briefly, her expression composed yet firm. "Thank you, Captain Panaka, but I must see to this personally," she responded calmly, then turned her attention back to Peter, raising an eyebrow at his masked face.
Peter stared forward in shock. Padmé Amidala was the last person he expected to call him. "Uhh, hello there…"
A/N: 2291 words :)
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