The Hall of Legacy was quieter than I expected. Well, it was the middle of the night, so we still had it for ourselves, all things considered.
But it wasn't completely silent, as there were people coming and going beside us, even at this hour. As for whether they were young soldiers or guards, perhaps people looking after us in more civilian attire... It was hard to tell, but that didn't matter, so I didn't focus on it either. My eyes and mind were more interested in the items displayed on the pedestals, many of them behind a thick, transparent panel, which, if I had to guess, was also blaster-proof.
The gallery's entrance and main hall were enormous, and its ceiling was supported by blackened durasteel ribs that curved overhead like the skeleton of a beast. It was probably resembling sothing ancient they had hunted, as it featured Mandalorian carvings from which a few were for sure related to 'war' and 'prey.' But I'm not that versed in reading their tongue to identify more. While looking around, Vila was walking beside , her lekku swaying lazily as she turned in a slow circle, her eyes already darting from case to case. She was enjoying it more than any of us did while HK kept up the pace at my other side. He scanned everyone constantly, photoreceptors glowing a shade brighter than usual, turning around here and there as if expecting an ambush. If I didn't know him, I would say he was nervous...
“This feels… different,” Vila murmured, "It's both calm but feels like there is a storm brewing under the surface."
“It’s probably ant to be like that,” I said, looking at her, reaching out with the Force, getting a feel of the aura in here, “Temples, museums, archives... It’s all the sa, really." I added, tasting the air on the tip of my tongue, "I guess that undercurrent is what the relics in here represent. So of these went through a lot...”
[Spiteful Correction: Archives are useful. Temples are targets. Museums are bait.] HK’s voice was sharper than usual and surprisingly loud for how he usually spoke. His photoreceptors flicked left, then right, narrowing at a rack of ancient blades, continuing in a condescending tone, [Observation: These relics are non-functional. They are pointless. A warrior who needs reminders is already obsolete. Or dead.]
"Do you have a grudge against them or sothing?" I asked, as the feeling I got from him was eerily familiar to that sense... which was weird. As droids should have no feelings from the get-go.
[Statent: Yes.] Then he suddenly stopped moving [Correction: No...]
"mory leaks?" Vila suggested, and I watched as HK's eyes refocused multiple tis, loudly grinding their gears in his head.
[Confirmation: Yes.] He answered, looking at a particular item that also caught my eye.
A mask.
Walking closer to it, reading the stone tablet before the pedestal, it was the Mask of Mand’alor, scarred and cracked, mounted in a case of transparisteel. Very little remained of the ancient war helm of the Mandalorian icon, as the legendary item probably had been reforged, repainted, and rebuilt across multiple centuries, if not more. What remained was a battered shell of iron-gray plating, pitted and blackened at the seams... Honestly, if not for its history, it would be nothing more than junk.
But I also understood the Unifier's perspective now for why he decided to put it in a museum instead of parading it as a symbol of the right to rule.
"Huh?" Vila let out a low whistle, “So that’s it? Doesn’t look like much... I rember reading sothing that it was also lost or whatever...”
[Fragnted Recall: Statent... Mask identified. Owner: Mand’alor the Ultimate. Dead. Successor: Mand’alor the Preserver. Correction: atbag Ordo. Always shouting... Always drinking... Claid he would rebuild Mandalore for my Master's return... His advice... For his request... Annoying... And Loud... But... Effective.]
I watched as HK’s voice, along with his body, stuttered as he spoke the words, a glitch sparking through his vocabulator, and then his photoreceptors pulsed, dimming, as if lost in thoughts, and then they ca back online again.
“HK,” I said carefully, “What did you just say? It wasn't the first ti you said these words.”
[Confused Query: Did I speak?] He paused, head twitching, taking great effort to focus on , [Correction: Vocal subroutines unstable. Statent: Disregard. Irrelevant. Runaway script, nothing more. Cleaning up the connection now.]
But it wasn’t irrelevant, that's for sure, and I could tell it without tapping into the Force. I rember his slipups from before, and this was the second ti he brought up soone nad Ordo with the sa comnts about him. That wasn’t nothing... So... Since then, I had been keeping my eyes open for hints, as that was a recurring mory seeping into his current self through the cracks in his matrix.
Seeing he wasn't keen on speaking about it again, we moved on. And... there it was. Amongst the old banners of different clans, including Clan Ordo’s shrike, next to Clan Vizsla’s stylized blade, and the mythosaur crest replicated a hundred ways on other crests, belonging to extinct clans. There were also weapons, too, belonging to the Ordo bloodline, beskads with notches worn into the hilts or pistols with grips polished smooth from generations of use... Probably all of them were still functional as well. There was even a piece of a basilisk war droid in one of the rooms... Also with the Ordo's emblem.
[Error...] HK’s voice glitched as we passed it, making him suddenly stop, [Fragnted ssage: Dxun. Basilisks... teors. I hunt... Survivors. Observation: Mandalorians die loudly... Correction: So die... Without words.]
"Um... Kael..." Vila gave a sidelong look, her brow furrowing as she whispered, “That’s… creepy.”
I only nodded because I felt the sa way... I was still unsure what this ant. Did HK fight against Mandalorians? Or alongside them? Maybe both? It was too hard to tell... Could he have done both? By then, I was barely paying attention to the items on display; I was more interested in watching HK and seeing if he had another fit, so rogue mories resurfacing. I can't imagine having more than three thousand years suppressed or being forgotten inside of my head... no wonder he is acting strange! As I thought about it, we reached another display in a prominent section. It held only one item... a lightsaber-like hilt with a slanted guard, resting horizontally on an obsidian rock. The Darksaber.
Even behind transparisteel, it had a design that was utilitarian and more war-focused than any other Jedi-made hilt that I know of.
"I don't know, Kael," Vila leaned close, her eyes scrutinizing it, “So that’s the famous blade? Dunno... I expected more.”
"Well, as far as I know, it was made by the only Mandalorian ever to be inducted into the Jedi Order of old." I humd, examining the weapon, trying to draw so conclusions for myself.
If, and it was a big if, I was right, my guess is that the maker of this blade was probably practicing Form V. I couldn't see any other lightsaber form to match the design... But I could be wrong. As for na... It was eluding in that mont, as I only knew that it belonged to House Vizsla. So... I guess that clan wasn't that happy that their supposed heirloom, which beca the de facto symbol of their people, got relegated to sit in a museum. But, once again... the Unifier was right. Just as the mask from before, this was also only an item... not the Mandalorian idea itself. Turning around, I wanted to see if HK had recalled anything... but no. He wasn't even interested in it.
So, the creation of this symbol occurred after his ti... That was my honest conclusion. With that in mind, we moved into a newer section, where there were fewer relics of conquest and more artifacts that symbolized their culture's rebirth. Holographic displays were shown there, featuring multiple clans, their history, and their contribution to the terraforming projects, although many of the key details were omitted from the latter. Still, there were Ithorian diagrams layered with Yuuzhan Vong biocraft etchings. They displayed samples of living coral and vine-like tissue, floating in containnt tubes, labeled in both Basic and Mando’a, explaining how it helped to revitalize the destroyed planet.
“They put this on display,” Vila murmured. “Aren't they afraid that soone cos and... do sothing? Stealing it? I an the plans?”
“Who would be that stupid?” I asked, chuckling to myself, “Even so, then what? They made a dead world breathe again, replicating that... I don't think that the Ithorians are that money-hungry that they want to profit from it. Or would refuse to replicate the feat if soone cos and asks.”
"The Mandalorians could mind it." She countered, and I had to nod in agreent. That... could be true. Not that it mattered for us.
[Glitched Statent: Terraforming residue detected.] HK’s head tilted, suddenly speaking again, [Peragus... Correction: Telos. Citadel Station. Rebuilding. Why try rebuilding... I was there...? Or I destroyed it? mory conflict unresolved.]
His servos whined as he staggered, clutching at the wall, as if he were a drunkard.
“HK!” I caught his arm, steadying him, and noticed that his fra vibrated beneath my hand, processors humming way too loudly. His torso was glowing hot... if not for being a droid, I would have said he was having a fit. Or a panic attack... or fever. Nah, all of those together.
[Flat Statent: mory integrity failing. Threat: Overload imminent.]
"Shit..." Vila stepped close, worry flickering in her eyes despite her usual bravado and their quips going back and forth, “He’s… not well...”
“No,” I agreed softly, “He is not...”
[Conclusion: Activating Gamma Protocol.] HK shoved away from , straightening with a jerk, [Directive: Retreat. Action required: Core reorganization. Statent: I will not malfunction in public.] His photoreceptors dimd, then flared back to full brightness, looking at , [Final Note: Continue without . I will return when I stabilize my leaking mory unit.]
Before either of us could stop him, he turned and hurried out, his mismatched limbs scraping against the stone floor as he almost turned into running.
"Haaah..." Vila exhaled, rubbing her arms, “That was… unsettling.”
“It was more than unsettling,” I whispered, “I will have to ask him to let us look into his processors one day... Even if he doesn't like it. We either need to empty out what has never been removed before... Or make sure he doesn't get overwheld by thousands of years of mories at once.”
"Good luck with that!" She scoffed, and I knew she was right... HK would not like that proposition.
After a brief period of silent thinking, we finally moved on. There was nothing else we could do, really.
The Hall’s last section opened into a circular chamber, its displays more eclectic. Miscellaneous items, really... From Jedi robes and hilts, taken from battlefields, through pieces of Imperial stormtrooper armor, scorched and blackened. There was even so red armor from the Emperor's personal guards... Huh... I was going past a battered blaster rifle with a placard reading: Battle of Galidraan, when I stopped in my steps.
“They’ve kept everything that had a value for a big trophy, eh?” Vila chuckled, as where it was possible, there were details of who killed whom and when... It was indeed a trophy room.
But I wasn't listening. I stood before a display set apart from the rest, illuminated by a pale white glow from the lun above it... I don't think these were Mandalorian relics or trophies... These were... Droid parts. And the placard read: Hunter-Killer Series, initially developed by Czerka Corporation.
There were fras of skeletal droids, arranged in chronological order. A rust-red, just like our buckethead, an HK-24 chassis, its plating corroded but unmistakably familiar. Then, there was a gleaming HK-50 head, serial codes etched into its chestplate, which was put next to it. There were even fragnts of the later HK-51 line, their designs sleeker, deadlier. Finally, we had a source for our HK... Huh. It was... Oooold. Very. Old. And there, amongst the remnants of his brethren, mounted in the display case, were pieces I recognized all too well. The reason being, they had the sa Force-like feeling that was stuck on HK to this day. The connection, for a Jedi, was like day and night...
A pair of legs. One arm...
They were our HK’s missing parts.
If not for the Force aura stuck to them, I wouldn't be able to tell, because they’d been polished, restored, and displayed here. The plaque beneath them stating: Recovered components of HK-47, Assassin Droid, c. 3,900 BBY. Known associate of Revan and the Jedi Civil War. Destroyed at: Unknown.
"No way!" Vila’s grin faded as her lekku twitched once, going stiff, “Kael…” she muttered, “Those are his... yes?”
"Yeah..." I nodded, gulping, throwing a look at her, "No doubt about that."
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