The warehouse manager rapidly tapped on the terminal, dispatching a team of robots deep into the warehouse.
Then, flapping his wings lightly, he flew to the nearest shelf, retrieved a package, and darted to the next.
First, he placed a uniform and cloak on the counter, followed by six YR-2P12 Training Droids, two training lightsabers, a medium-power communicator with holographic projection capabilities, ten blank holodisks, a pair of standard lightsaber energy cores, rare metals and standard components for lightsaber forging, a high-capacity backpack, and a basic survival kit—not advanced, but practical, containing compressed rations, a water purifier, a universal breathing mask, and high-strength rope.
"Regarding armor, we need to confirm specifics... Do you have any preferences?" The manager turned from the screen, his gaze sweeping meaningfully over Solo.
"Ideally lightweight, without hindering agility, yet capable of withstanding blaster fire. Any recommendations?"
"Of course, we have options. But speaking frankly..." The administrator snorted through his nostrils. "But speaking frankly, this type of 'merchandise' isn't exactly popular among the Jedi. To be honest, you're the first to request armor in the past twenty years."
"Then please recommend something," Solo replied with standard diplomatic courtesy.
The administrator stroked his chin, sizing Solo up. "Come to think of it, I do have a rare piece that might suit you."
He tapped a few keys, projecting a holographic image of uniquely styled armor.
Solo vaguely recognized the design, but couldn't quite place where he'd seen something similar before.
"While it's not power armor and doesn't match the beskar steel of the Mandalorians, it's perfectly suited for you."
"What model is this?" Solo leaned forward, intrigued.
"A remarkably successful retro replica," the Toydarian said, his tone barely concealing his pride. "It was originally designed by a private corporation for planetary defense forces about seven hundred years ago. Though the exact chain of distribution is unclear, some of the equipment ended up in our possession as war spoils. The model was quite popular for a time, and the helmet has been redesigned for improved ergonomics compared to the original. We still have over a dozen sets in stock, the helmets untouched... Ah, the craftsmanship of that era..."
He drew out his words, the cursor hovering over the screen. "Ah, I remember now! The armor plates are made of Durasteel, with Cortosis plating on the chest and arm guards. The inner lining is woven with armored fibers, effectively dispersing blaster impacts and even withstanding a few lightsaber strikes. Designed for humanoid creatures, it allows complete freedom of movement—your acrobatic maneuvers won't be hindered at all. It has a built-in mid-range communicator and sensors... probably integrated into the arm guards. There's also a compact shield generator, though it's an outdated model from three centuries ago. It's only effective against energy weapons, providing thirty seconds of continuous protection before requiring a half-hour recharge."
The administrator finished his lengthy explanation, looking expectantly at Solo.
The requirements were demanding, but this armor set was passable.
"Don't misunderstand!" The administrator misinterpreted Solo's expression. "While newer models exist, they're actually less suitable for Jedi training. Either the joints restrict movement or the plates interfere with agility. Trust Old Rolf's experience—I know all too well the flexibility demands of your training droids. By the time you're done modifying it, you'll be exhausted. As for custom-made armor? The Temple hasn't placed an order in a millennium."
"This set will do," Solo said. He naturally wouldn't refuse protective gear, even if its capabilities were limited.
"May it serve you well, Warrior..."
***
Solo left the warehouse in good spirits.
With the help of an enthusiastic old woman and several robots, they had not only found the armor but also completed a thorough overhaul.
Although nearly half of the internal components had been replaced, considering the warehouse's size, this was hardly a problem.
Under the guidance of a shrewd Toydarian, Solo tried on the armor.
The full set weighed approximately fifteen kilograms, slightly uncomfortable but acceptable.
The armor allowed for good mobility, though it was a bit loose.
The control system supported helmet commands and holographic sensor controls via the arm gauntlets, and even allowed for Force-based remote interface manipulation—a simple task even for a young apprentice.
As for the weak shield generator?
Solo had his own plans. He had no intention of encasing himself in a metal coffin like a Destroyer Droid.
After stuffing the remaining supplies into his backpack, he strode toward the Temple's inner sanctum... the Archives.
***
The vast archives... this ocean of information, even a thousand years wouldn't suffice to explore it all!
More daunting than climbing Mount Everest.
Just typing the keyword "battle" yielded such a chaotic mess of results that it was enough to make anyone despair.
What use were these records of tribal warfare on some barbaric planet?
Forcing himself to focus, Solo began filtering for major conflicts from recent years. The data stretched back to the Rakata era.
No, to be precise, there were even older records.
He not only skimmed the information but also copied it to a holodisk for later in-depth study.
After a cursory reading, Solo felt a growing sense of disbelief. Either he was misunderstanding something, or ancient commanders were all unparalleled geniuses.
If these documents were to be believed, ninety percent of major Galactic conflicts were resolved through brilliant strategies, inevitably ending with the complete annihilation of the "evil" forces. Or, conversely, the collapse of the "righteous" side, depending entirely on the shifting tides of war.
There were virtually no cases of peaceful negotiation, border realignment, or subsequent coexistence.
Take the Republic, for example. It always seemed capable of mobilizing sufficient force not only to defeat its enemies but also to completely suppress them, occupy their territories, and purge all resistance.
This defied all logic.
Seriously, how could you occupy a region comparable in size to your own territory after losing four-fifths of your pre-war military strength?
If this wasn't the work of a genius, then it could only be... the result of wielding an "ultimate weapon," wielded by those loyal and powerful Warrior Orders willing to pay any price to "completely eradicate evil."
Only in the records of the Mandalorian Wars and the New Sith Wars can we glimpse a semblance of rationality, but even these archives primarily emphasize the actions of Force users.
The ordinary soldiers' presence is pitifully thin, except for elites like Shai Vizla, who later became "Mandalore the Destroyer."
It must be stressed that the focus always remains on individual martial prowess and tradition, rather than team coordination and tactical systems.
Ordinary soldiers are merely expendable commodities. In the Republic's ranks, they are conscripted militias from various regions, equipped with shoddy gear, or artificially bred or created beings like the Sith's "Soul Eaters" or even pure robots—species not considered life.
This very reason explains why the Mandalorians initially easily suppressed the Republic. However, after Revan led the Jedi intervention, the tide turned, ultimately leading to the Mandalorians' defeat.
And that Revan, after sacrificing dozens of warships over Malachor V, still managed to secure victory.
Yet the planet, after the activation of the superweapon known as the "Mass Shadow Generator," was transformed into a death world.
It seems the Sith's superweapons are always accompanied by calamity.