Just a disclaimer for safety's sake: I do not it any way shape or form own Star Wars or any of the characters created by LucasArts. My story is my own, but a few of the people and places are not.
Chapter One: Exile
The perpetual twilight of Hoth's second moon was strangely comforting, the near darkness hiding many things; the scars, the shame, the banishment. Banished from ever returning to the presence of another mandalorian, only to venture into a Mandalorian camp in emergency, this was the fate of Xan Ondar. For killing a sparring partner in the Battle Circle, exile is a minor punishment.
The wasteland of the moon was nearly a mirror image of its mother planet, a frozen and desolate world with sparse life. It reflected the feelings of the mandalorian perfectly, forgotten and belittled since he was young and often disregarded when considering the clan as a whole. He knew very little of his real family, only that he was adopted into Mandalorian society through Gai Bal Manda after the invasion of his home world, which was another subject he knew little about. The only connection he had to his biological family, which was probably killed during the invasion, was a scrap of fabric bearing a crest; a flaming bird with crossed swords. He was chosen to be adopted for the crest; the mandalorians believed it belonged to a family whose bloodline was full of powerful warriors.
Now it seemed it hardly mattered what his biological family accomplished during war times, it only mattered that he was banished from the only homes he had ever known. Xan wandered the icy moon for hours, looking for a stable shelter or some kind of nourishment, keeping warm with only the armor he was allowed to keep for protection. His searched turned up few results, and in the end it seemed he would freeze to death; but as a Mandalorian at heart he would sooner kill himself with the vibroblade he was given to help him survive. Finally he noticed a large cave in the side of a large cliff. Upon scaling the sheer and frozen surface he realized that the cave was a ship, crash landed many months ago. The crew seemed to have been taken by the natural forces of the planet, but the ship's life support systems, once activated, worked as though the ship was only forgotten for a day. Not only did the life support systems work, so did the astrogation charts, hyperdrive, and medical station. Xan sat down in the pilot's chair and was surprised when the computer's automated responses activated.
The screens flickered to life and a robotic voice chimed "Dynamic-class light freighter: 34-P7JK, hyperdrive class one, Ebon Hawk. Automated command system initiated. Last known landing site: Malachor V. Last known destination: Unknown. Commands?"
"Ebon Hawk, that's impossible, this ship would be thousands of years old and in no condition to activate even the light systems," Xan looked around, amazed at what he was seeing. A ship that left the known galaxy nearly four thousand years ago, in perfect condition, waiting for someone to find it on Hoth's second moon.
A condescending robotic voice emanated from the main hallway leading to the cockpit, "Correction: This ship is approximately, 3,961 years old. Addendum: Provided my chronological systems have not been damaged in any way."
"A ship that old shouldn't be able to so much as flicker its lights, let alone support life. Then there's the fact that a droid that's nearly four thousand years old shouldn't be able to re-activate either," Xan turned around slowly to address the droid that corrected him, only to find a blaster aimed directly at his forehead. "Apparently I'm in no position to be making any assumptions about anything anymore."
"Confirmation: No, meatbag, you are in no position to do anything. Threat: You will do as I tell you or you will find yourself missing parts of your skull," a loud whirring issued from another source, as if agreeing with the threat.
"Well, I've made a point of never working for someone I don't know anything about. So if you want me to do anything, you should get talking."
"Introduction: I am HK-47, assassin and protocol droid, this is my astromech counterpart, T3-M4. Command: As you are our hostage, we will need something to call you by. Tell us your name, meatbag."
"I am Lieutenant Xan Ondar of the Mandalorian Army, 140th Infantry Brigade. That's all you need to know."
"Correction: You were a member of the Mandalorian Army. Observation: The insignia on your armor marks you as an exile; you are less than bantha fodder to them now. Addendum: Also, the armor you wear is of non-traditional style for modern mandalorians, marking you as a member of a clan that is of great importance, thus doubling the insult of your banishment."
"For a droid, you're extremely observant. I'll remember that next time I try to lie to you. Now, what do you want me to do, defrost the gangplank?"
"Smug Response: There will not be a next time, you would be dead first. Condescending Answer: No, meatbag, you will access the memory of the ship and follow the directions that you are given from there," the droid lowered its blaster, turned, and walked away. Its shorter counterpart that resembled a small table with wheels stayed in the cockpit, its round head and single ocular sensor aimed straight at Xan's forehead.
Instead of trying to protest the situation and run the risk of getting himself killed, Xan turned to the consol and activated the memory banks hoping to find some kind of program that could get him out of the ship without getting killed. He searched through every file and every folder to no avail, the only remotely helpful program was the controls to activate the automated defense systems that would shoot him as soon as protect him. The last file he found was one labeled "Emergency", deciding that this was enough of an emergency to use whatever he found, Xan opened it.
A holographic image of a man wearing battle armor and a cape appeared on the consol of the ship and began speaking. "If you're watching this, I assume HK-47 has followed his original programming to return to the Ebon Hawk at all costs. In any case, you are here and surely need an explanation. This is, as you've seen, the fabled Ebon Hawk, returned from uncharted space and kept in shape for untold time. By now I am probably dead and forgotten, so I'll introduce myself. I am Revan, owner of this vessel; as such I have the ability to grant you ownership. Whoever you are, I am sure you'll be glad to know that with this ship comes the ownership of both of the droids," at this comment the smaller droid behind Xan began whistling and whirring in protest, "I'm sure I've just lowered myself on their favorite persons list, but by now I'm dead and they need someone to watch after them. This ship is yours now, do with it what you will but be careful, HK-47 might protest against selling or dismantling it."
As the hologram flickered out of existence Xan looked around and considered his great luck in finding a ship to get him off the icy barrens so soon after being marooned. The excitement was short lived though, because just as the hologram finished speaking blasters began firing from outside the ship. From the sound of the crumbling it seemed like a larger ship had begun firing on the cliff that the Ebon Hawk was encased in.
Xan ran for the gangplank of the ship to try and see who was firing on them only to find HK-47 blasting away with an oversized rifle at the ice that was keeping them held to the cliff. "What are you doing? You could get us all killed," Xan ran to the droid, trying to stop him to no avail.
The droid simply kept firing and turned its head slightly, "Statement: In order to leave this frozen hell we must remove the thing that is keeping us here."
"Fine, but don't blame me if you get crushed under the debris you're bringing down. While you do this I'll get the ship fired up so we don't get crushed when the whole cliff comes down on top of us."
"Request: Leave the entry ramp open, I will close it when I re-enter the ship. Do not wait for me."
Xan returned to the cockpit to begin the engine sequences and activate the repulsorlift. As soon as the ship began to lift from the bottom of its shallow grave he threw the throttle into reverse and blasted out of the hole. While turning the ship around to align it to orbit the moon for a short time he heard the clink of metal on metal. Even clicks, one after the other, carefully measured, footsteps. As HK-47 entered the cockpit he turned to the astrogation charts and typed in coordinates for a hyperspace jump.
"What are you doing? There's no telling what will happen when we make the jump. We could be torn to shreds and scattered across the galaxy! Where are you sending us anyway?"
"Answer: Master, I have plotted a course for the planet Korriban."
"What? Why Korriban? There's nothing there but a pile of rocks, and maybe some lunatics who believe they're the last of the Sith."
"Explanation: There is something on that planet that you must see if you are to be our master," without arguing the point further HK-47 turned and left the room with T3-M4 close behind.
It had been a long day, and the lack of control over his own future was beginning to weigh on Xan. He left the cockpit on autopilot and went to the dormitories on the starboard side of the ship. He stripped off the armor he was left with and stowed it in the compartment beneath the bed. He got a change of clothes from the compartment and went to the sonic bath to pulse away the weariness in his bones. He let the pulsing waves of water hit him, removing everything.
As he got out he stepped in front of the shower and took the first good look at himself since he was a child. His dark gold hair was longer than Mandalorian code allowed, something always ignored by his superiors, his body was covered in scars from numerous battles but that hardly took away from how finely toned he was for his size. He had always been one of the shortest of the soldiers, but always one of the strongest, his spirit never failed him and let him win his bouts with swiftness rather than brute strength. He looked into his ever changing eyes wondering what color they were today; they were white, with a tinge of blue around them. They would soon blend together and become fully blue again, one of his personal favorites. But staring at the minor changes happening in his eyes made Xan realize just how tired he was and he drifted to the bed and fell instantaneously into a deep sleep.
His mind wandered through dreams and visions of past events and things that couldn't ever happen. Scenes of lightning splayed across his mind and images of a woman he'd never seen made him wonder how powerful his imagination really was. "I'm lost. I'm on a path that's ended. Help me…"
He woke with a start, panicking slightly as he looked around and didn't recognize his surroundings. "Observation: Good morning, master. It's about time you woke up, I was considering putting you out of your misery," HK-47 was waiting for Xan, with a blaster.
"Putting me out of my misery? What was wrong with me?"
"Eager Recitation: You were trashing and screaming, master. It was really quite impressive watching you defeat the bunk above you," the droid was almost too excited to tell about Xan's sleep fighting.
"How long have I been out? From how much better I feel I'd say I've been out for hours."
"Confirmation: Indeed, master, you have been asleep for many hours. Approximately seventy-two hours in fact," the droid had become disinterested now that Xan had woken and was no longer trashing about, it began its measured walk out the door to the cargo hold to prepare for departing the ship.
"Asleep for three days, how is that even possible? I can't believe that, it's just not possible," Xan looked at the date on the digital calendar and suddenly he believed it was possible. "Well, at least I don't have to worry about how I'll spend my time till landing. Which reminds me, we should be dead if I've been asleep we should have crashed into the planet's surface without me to land the ship."
The whirring and chirps of the smaller droid caught Xan's attention and made him sit up to look for the astromech droid. "You, you think you landed the ship? That's crazy, no mere astromech droid can land anything larger than a one manned fighter, but since we're alive I'll have to believe you for now."
Xan put his armor back on, shining and admiring it before donning it again. He preferred a style closer to the armor of the Army of the Republic, a style that was considered taboo once the Clone Wars came to an end. The white of his armor stood out glaringly against the red of the materials holding the plates together. His armor featured the traditional T-shaped visor with a bit of personalization; the visor itself was pointed at the ends and the plasteel was tinted red. Most Mandalorians opted for a modern jetpack system, but Xan wouldn't even conform to that, his jetpack system was based on the jetpacks used in the Clone Wars by ARC Troopers. The jets had been replaced by small repulsorlifts and were designed to collapse into the armor itself, covered by a shoulder cape that was as blood red as the other parts of the armor. He put the armor on slowly, inspecting it for battle scars and cracks, and began his forced investigation of Korriban.