"So why are you here? I get the feeling this isn`t just a social call."
"I`ve got some questions about the war."
Revan didn`t need to clarify; for Canderous there was only one war that mattered. He and Revan had fought on opposite sides, mortal enemies who knew each other only by reputation long before they joined forces against Malak and became friends.
"Not much to say. We lost. You won," Canderous said with a shrug. "We thought we could conquer the Republic, but instead we ended up a broken people."
He spoke with a casual indifference, but Revan knew him well enough to sense the bitterness and regret behind his words. The Mandalorians had been a proud and noble culture, fighting battles to win honor and glory; now the clans were scattered across the galaxy, reduced to working as mercenaries and thugs for the highest bidder. Revan didn`t like bringing up such a painful topic, but there was information he needed, and he felt this was the only way to get it.
"There`s one thing I never understood about the Mandalorian Wars," he pressed. "What started them? Why, after all these centuries, did you suddenly decide to launch an all-out attack on the Republic?"
"It was Mandalore`s idea."
Revan knew that Canderous wasn`t referring to the original founder of his people. For centuries, each successive leader of the Mandalorian clans had symbolically taken up the name of Mandalore as a way to simultaneously honor his cultural heritage and reinforce his own authority. To distinguish among rulers, each chose an honorific to define his or her reign, such as Mandalore the Conqueror or Mandalore the Indomitable. The most recent ruler had called himself Mandalore the Ultimate.
"Mandalore felt the Republic was weak," Canderous continued. "Vulnerable. He summoned the warriors of the clans, and we followed him into what we thought would be our greatest conquest."
There was no need to ask if Canderous or any of his fellow warriors had hesitated. When Mandalore called, the clans answered. While there might be battles and disputes among those seeking to be Mandalore`s successor when he fell, once the decision was made there was never any dissent or debate.
"You know what the Mask means to my people," Canderous said. "Without it we are lost, vagabonds wandering the galaxy without a purpose. Recovering the Mask could be the key to restoring Mandalorian honor - and power."
Revan knew all this. That was why he had hidden the Mask after slaying Mandalore the Ultimate - a final act to demoralize a defeated foe. He`d hoped it would take the Mandalorians generations to recover from the loss of their most revered cultural symbol. Without it, the war-like clans would be too busy fighting among themselves for power to even think about conquering Republic worlds. But if the Mask were to be found again…
"Whoever finds it will be hailed as the new leader of the clans," Canderous continued. "Mandalore will rise again, and the Mandalorians will follow."
Revan knew that Canderous was sharing this knowledge with him out of loyalty. They had been through too many battles together for him to keep this secret. Yet he also understood why Canderous had been reluctant to speak. He was still a Mandalorian, and he feared for the future of his people.
The wounds of the Mandalorian Wars were still fresh in the minds of the Jedi and the Republic. The looming specter of a Mandalorian army unified by a single war-like leader would not be ignored. Even if the Jedi Council refused to take action again, the Senate would send its fleets to crush the potential threat before it could begin.
***O Mandalorianach i ich potencjalnej przyszło¶ci
"Do you believe the Mandalorians will attack the Republic again if the Mask is found?" Revan asked.
"Depends who finds it," Canderous answered candidly. "Some of the clan leaders want nothing more than to avenge our defeat. Others would rather try to rebuild our society. We were great warriors before we started conquering Republic worlds; it`s possible we can restore our honor without violating the treaty terms we agreed to."
"Good point," Revan replied. "HK`s a little too trigger-happy to bring on this mission. Things tend to get bloody when he`s around."
"You realize we`re going to a planet overrun with Mandalorians?" Canderous reminded him. "Bloody is probably unavoidable."
"I`m hoping at least some of the clans can be reasoned with," Revan explained. "If we bring a homicidal assassin droid with us, I don`t think they`re going to give us much of a chance to explain why we`re there."
On the far side of the camp were four large, tarp-covered mounds. Revan`s heart sank.
As part of the terms of the surrender, he`d ordered the Mandalorians to disassemble their infamous Basilisk war droids - great metal beasts the Mandalorians often rode into combat. Judging by the size of the covered objects, and by whatever hints of shape weren`t obscured by the tarps, some of the defeated had chosen to ignore his decree.
"Lay your weapons down and identify yourselves!" The speaker - a male - was the sentry closest to Revan on his left.
Out of the corner of his eye, the Jedi could see that Canderous was holding his ground, careful to avoid any sudden movement but not making any effort to obey the order. Revan decided the smart thing to do would be to follow his lead.
"My name is Canderous of Clan Ordo," the big man shouted. "And I don`t lay down my weapons for anyone!"
Veela arched her eyebrow in mild surprise, then turned her attention back to Canderous. "What are you doing here?"
"Is that any way to greet a clan-brother?" Canderous asked.
"Are you still my clan-brother? You left us after the war. You deserted Clan Ordo to become a mercenary."
"There was no Clan Ordo after the war," Canderous snapped back at her. "Tegris was dead. We had no leader. We were scattered. Broken. Defeated. I wasn`t the only one who left."
"We Mandalorians have a saying," Canderous explained. "A warrior who doesn`t hope for battle has no hope during battle."
"That`s a good one," Revan admitted. "But here`s one I like: You can`t lose a battle you never fight."
"You can`t win it, either," Veela said.
Six members of the clan, four men and two women, had died in the battle, a quarter of the casualties they had inflicted on Clan Jendri.
Veela had ordered all thirty bodies to be gathered together into a massive funeral pyre. Revan understood this mixing of friend and foe: they were all Mandalorians who had died in battle. By custom they were all due a warrior`s funeral, regardless of which clan they had been fighting for. The pyre burned for hours, the flames lighting the night and warming the camp as the brothers and sisters of the fallen recounted tales of their bravery. They honored their memories through song and feast, simultaneously grieving their deaths and celebrating the resounding Ordo victory.
"I`m not here to claim the Mask for myself," Canderous assured her. "You`re the rightful leader of Clan Ordo. I`m not here to challenge you."
"You still don`t get it," Veela said, shaking her head. "You should be our leader, not me! You were our greatest warrior. You were our champion. Our hero. When Mandalore fell, you should have been the one to take his place!" She looked at him sadly. "Instead, you abandoned us. You abandoned me."
"No," Veela insisted. "You`re wrong. Clan Ordo might accept a Jedi, but not him. Anyone but him."
"There`s only one way to be sure. We let the whole clan decide."
"That`s not an option," Veela replied, raising her blaster back up. "Revan cannot leave this chamber alive."
"You know Revan`s reputation," Canderous warned. "And mine. There may be six of you, but do you really think you have a chance against us both?"
"We`re not here to kill you," Veela told him. "Just him."
"And you expect me to stand by and do nothing?"
"I expect you to join us!" Veela shouted. "You are Mandalorian! Clan Ordo is your family, not Revan. You have to choose: him or us."
"It doesn`t have to be this way," Canderous said evenly. "Lower your weapons. End this madness. We`ll take Mandalore`s Mask back down to the camp together."
Canderous stared at Revan, and then down at the Mask in his hands. He stood stock-still for a moment. Then, slowly, he raised the Mask and slipped it over his head.
"Mandalore has returned," he declared. "I am Mandalore the Preserver, and I will restore the honor and glory of my people!"
