Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Planning, that's what it all came done to. Whoever planned the best, whoever was better prepared, would always come out on top. Like Kreia and Revan before him, it was his turn to plan, to pull the strings. This time he would be the one in charge.
This is what was going through the Exile's mind as he flew away from the scattered remains of the once proud planet. He knew that if his plans were to succeed then everything would have to come together perfectly, and that included tying up a few loose ends. Those that called him "friend" would have to be informed. At least, the ones he would keep.
Like Revan, he knew there was a faction past the edge of known space, these so called "True Sith". Unlike Revan however, he had no intention of stopping them. Better to let Revan take care of that, while he worked towards bigger and better things. For it was his intention to conquer the Republic. To make it his own and mold as he saw fit.
He turned his attention from the autopilot, slowly walking to the small work bench, musing on how to better achieve his goal. He liked Sion's approach, stealth and precision would be the best way to bring about this change in events. Yet even as he set to work on his customized stealth field generator, he knew that these alone would not be enough. That had been Sion's failing. It was while he was deep in thought that the sound of clanking, durasteel feet could be heard approaching.
"Statement: Master, we are nearing Citadel Station. The meatbags have requested we land in hangar bay 13." a mechanized voice called from the shadow-filled hallway.
"Tell me HK, are we to recieve a hero's welcome?" the Exile questioned with a sarcastic grin.
"Answer: Master, I believe they said the Admiral Carth Onasi has sent an escort to his office."
"That will be all, droid."
He briefly pondered what the Admiral wanted before walking to the fresher. He was still deep in thought as he removed his Mandalorian Assault armor, a gift from Mandalore, and adjusted the water to a comfortable temperature.
Ten minutes later he was polishing his armor, a small preperaton before his meeting with the Admiral. He knew Onasi would probably be one of the few who could stand against him in the upcoming war. Just one more reason to have him killed. There was just one last thing he needed to do before going to face the Admiral.
After donning his armor, he slowly made his way through the halls of the Ebon Hawk, padding along until coming to a stop just outside of the small room that housed the hyperdrive. Peering in he could his small astromech droid, T3-M4, carefully making repairs.
"T3, come over here. I've got a few last minute modifications to give you before we dock. You may want to shut down, this could take a while."
The diminutive droid beeped quizzically before complying. With the machine powered down the Exile set to work programming a task that the droid would have no choice to obey.
About thirty standard minutes later, the Exile, HK-47, and T3-M4 were descending the loading ramp of the Ebon Hawk. HK immediately began an inspection of all possible escape routes, his Mandalorian blaster rifle pointing at everyone walking about the hangar, while they awaited the arrival of their escort.
"Logan…" called a calm and soothing voice from the shadows of some nearby crates.
The Exile spun on the spot, a large smile plastered on his face that, thus far, only she had the power to cause. Out from the shadows emerged a hooded figure, gracefully moving towards the Jedi Exile with long, fluid steps.
"Visas!" he cried happily, embracing her before quickly gathering his cool, "Are you to be our escort?"
"I am." she replied, a small smile adorning her lips.
"Well then, this promises to be much more pleasant than I anticipated. I assumed he'd send some scrawny little pencil pusher." Now no longer trying to hide his happiness.
The two walked down the halls in a comfortable silence, taking pleasure in each others presence. The only reminders that they weren't alone being the metallic footsteps and rolling wheels of the droids and the wary glances of the occasional TSF guard.
"It's been a long time since I've enjoyed walking anywhere." Visas quietly offered, moving closer to the Exiles side.
"It's been a some time since I've had someone to enjoy it with." Logan replied, his insides swimming from their proximity.
He reveled in the faint blush that made its way to the seers face as they continued their walk. Several times over their journey to find the Jedi masters, he would find himself reflecting on the moments the two would meditate together and the conversations that followed. Often time those memories were the only thoughts that kept him going.
As time passed by and the walk continued, each of them lost in their own thoughts, they eventually came to a stop outside of Admiral Carth Onai's private office. The two sentients gazed at each other for a moment before all four of them entered.
Inside, the walls were the usual tope color while a maroon carpet had been lavishly spread across the floor. A fire was blazing in a stone fireplace over to the side, casting shadows throughout the room. In the middle of the room, sitting in a leather arm chair at an oak desk, was a middle-aged man with brown hair and a goatee.
"The Exile?" the man asked, looking up from the mess of papers spread out on his desk.
"That would be me." Logan replied, looking the man straight in the eye.
"And his friends. That's good." he said in turn, "I suppose you're wondering why I called you here." he said upon noticing the anxious look on the Exile's face.
"I'm dying to know." Logan responded with a heavy amount of sarcasm.
"Well I'll get right to the point then. I… no, the Republic needs your help. The people are lost without a strong figurehead. Now Bastilla Shan and I have already tried but we just don't measure up. We need you to find Revan. She's the only one who's ever been able to command our fleet that well. Chancellor Cressa has already granted me access to whatever funds you'll need." he explained.
"How in the name of the Force am I supposed to find her?" he asked, now not bothering to hide his distaste of the Admiral.
"T3-M4 must know where she went, he was with her. If you just leave him with my technicians for a few days I'm sure we could get it out of him." he replied, trying to remain calm.
Realizing this fit perfectly into his plans, the Exile's eyes seemed to blaze with the light from the fire beside him. Quickly formulating how best to answer the Exile replied,
"Of course Admiral, I would be happy to search for Revan if you are able to find anything in T3's memory core. All I ask is for a few days for my crew and me to rest."
"That would be acceptable." Carth answered, suspicious about the Exile's sudden change in disposition.
"Then I thank you." he said before turning to leave with Visas and HK-47, a small grin plastered on his face.
Out in the hallway the trio walked in relative silence until they were about thirty meters from the Admirals quarters.
"HK, please get the word out to others, except Bao-Dur and Brianna, tonight we're meeting at the Cantina. Three standard hours from now." Logan ordered, breaking the silence with his commanding tone.
"Statement: Of course Master."
Later, the Exile found Atton, Mandalore, Hanharr, and Visas sitting around a small table, with HK and G0-T0 nearby to keep others from passing to close. The aromas from many different alien dishes and drinks filled the crowded room, with the music blaring in the background.
"So what did you want us for Logan?" Atton asked, already on his second hit of Juma Juice.
"We're going to conquer the Republic." he replied, acting nonchalant.
At this the others, minus Visas and the droids began laughing. The laughter slowly died down as one by one the all realized he wasn't laughing.
"Heh, you're kidding. Right?"
"No Atton, I'm very serious. We're going to conquer the Republic." Logan answered.
"But… how?" Atton questioned.
"We've already got the support of the General Vaklu and Iziz, and if Mandalore is willing to ally himself and the Mandalorians with us again then it is possible." he replied confidently.
"We don't have the man power or the equipment needed for a war of that scale, not to mention ships or a proper army." Mandalore spoke up, knowing that the Exile had a plan to counter that, and was anxious to hear it.
"Mandalore, if we take a few months for your men to train Vaklu's troops while Visas, Atton, and I train their Force sensitives then you know that we stand a chance." he countered, "And besides, think of how many Mandalorians will come to join you, for the chance at returning the clans to their former glory."
"It's too risky, my men are just getting used to being united under a single banner again. We don't want a repeat of our last war." he responded, hoping he didn't sound as cowardly as he thought.
"Did I ever tell you Kreia's prophecy about the Mandalorians?" he asked, calling upon the Force to make his words sound more powerful and convincing, as he had done several times during the Mandalorian Wars, "I believe it went something like "They will die a death that will last millennia, until all that remains is their code, their history, and, in the end, the shell of their armor upon the shell of a man, too easily slain by Jedi."
"When do we start?" was the man's only response through his barely controlled anger.
"As soon as I tie up a few loose ends." Logan replied, a feral grin displayed on his face.
Later that night, approximately five standard hours after their meeting in the Cantina, two shots could be heard coming from the interior of the Ebon Hawk. Not two minutes later, a rust colored droid and a large Wookie came stalking down the cargo ramp. Being dragged behind them were lump shaped objects which they deposited in two of the security lockers in the hangar. The two quickly got back onto the ship just as it disappeared into the stars.
The next morning a young TSF officer was found violently expelling his breakfast after discovering the bodies of a pale Zabrak sporting a mechanical arm and a young Echani woman.