Star Wars_ The Old Republic_ Revan - Drew Karpyshyn [62]
Many Mandalorians despised the Jedi—and Revan in particular. Revan had been responsible for countless Mandalorian deaths, and he had stolen and hidden Mandalore’s Mask, an act some considered a war crime. Considering Veela’s fierce pride in her people and her culture, she probably wouldn’t simply forgive and forget. Fortunately, it seemed like she wasn’t aware of his true identity.
Over the course of the evening, Edric and several others came over to speak with him, making a point to include him in the clan festivities. Everyone seemed to know he had drawn the fire of the enemy Basilisks, allowing the pilots to reach their mounts. Interestingly, though, none of them knew any of the details of what had occurred out beyond the edges of the main battle. Obviously Veela had sworn the other pilots to secrecy.
He should have taken that as a good sign, but he kept catching glimpses of Veela and the other pilots watching him suspiciously. They might not know he was Revan, but they knew he was a Jedi and that clearly bothered them.
He wasn’t sure if Veela had ordered them to stay silent out of respect for what he had done during the battle, or because she thought they still needed him to find Mandalore’s Mask, or even because of her feelings for Canderous. But whatever the explanation, his secret seemed safe … for now.
When he finally climbed into bed late that night he was surprised to hear Canderous come stumbling into the tent a few minutes later.
“I thought you’d be with Veela.”
“She’s not too happy with me right now,” Canderous explained. “I’ll let her cool down for the night.”
“Sorry about that.”
“You did what you had to do,” his friend answered as he settled into his sleeping bag. “Sooner or later it was going to come out anyway.”
“How bad is this?”
“Veela doesn’t like Jedi,” Canderous admitted. “But she’s hard to read. Hopefully she’ll just hold a grudge for a few days.” The big man rolled over onto his side. “Either that, or she’ll try to kill us on tomorrow’s climb.”
Revan couldn’t tell if he was joking.
——
THE WEATHER IN THE MORNING was the same as every other morning on Rekkiad—freezing cold, with fierce winds and swirling snow that limited visibility. Revan had been hoping for a calm, clear day so they could use the Basilisks to fly them up to the top. But even here at the base, unexpected gusts had enough strength to almost knock him off his feet. Higher up, the wind shear and lack of visibility would make an attempted landing on the summit suicidal, even for the most skilled pilots. Dangerous as it was, climbing to the top was the only real option.
“Bad conditions for an ascent,” Canderous remarked as they stood at the base of the first Spear.
“This is as good as it gets,” Veela said. “If you’re scared, I’ll get Edric to take your place and you can watch over the camp.”
“The old man would probably have a heart attack halfway up,” Canderous answered with a grin.
“He’s only a year older than you,” Veela pointed out.
“But I’m like a fine wine,” he replied. “I get better with age.”
The playful exchange eased some of Revan’s concerns about the mission, though he still wasn’t thrilled by the makeup of the climbing team. There were eight of them in total: Revan, Canderous, Veela, and the five other Basilisk riders, including Grizzer—the young man who’d given up his mount to Canderous.
Veela’s picks made a certain amount of sense. Going after Mandalore’s Mask was a great honor, and the Basilisk riders were among the most respected warriors in the clan. The only other person who might have been included was Edric, but he had been chosen to stay behind to lead Clan Ordo in case Veela and the others never came back.
Yet Revan couldn’t help noticing that all of the