Note: The basic idea for this came while thumbing through the copy of the KotOR sourcebook when the Clone Wars episode Rookies was on. That left me with the idea of working out a method of placing Revan, the Exile, and friends in the Clone Wars era when I noticed the information on Relativistic Shielding and the effects of what damaged shielding can cause. Then came the idea of how to fit everyone together that I wanted to include.
As such the major changes to the universe start (Beyond the existance of the fleet being sent after him) with HK being present in the fleet sent to find Revan and the Exile (Rather than ending up stranded on Mustafar), Vandar was not present on Katarr (He was still in contact with the Jedi there via hologram when the Nihilus attacked) having forced Revan into letting him accompany him, and the other Jedi who traveled with Revan had been ordered to do specific tasks along with the other party members from KotOR. Both Brianna and Mical traveled with the Exile. Beyond that, there may be other minor things that may pop up at a later point.
Also the A'denla Ad is not an official name for a ship class, the ship type is a real Mandalorian ship class, just one without an actual designation. On Wookiepedia, it is listed as looking like a Venator-class Star Destroyer, but it's class has yet to actually be given. Thus I came up with one, the name is Mando'a and translates as "Vengeful Son"
I am also distinguishing two specific types of Basilisk War-Droids. The first is the standard combat one, using a droid brain and a single pilot while the other is the version shown in KotORII.
Message Priority: Alpha Red
Source: Admiral Carth Onasi, 115th Expeditionary Force, Inexpugnable-Class Cruiser "Pride of Telos"
To: Admiral Cede, Citadel Station, Telos
Code: Alpha-One-One-Niner
Title: Emergency Alert
Cede, the mission has seemingly been a success, T3's report panned out and we have located both Revan and the Exile.
However, the good news seems to end there.
We were wrong, there is a Sith menace out here, Revan was right about that. Most of the fleet is damaged and the remainder is suffering hyperdrive problems due to an unstable fluctuation between a local event and our relativistic shielding.
The Sith are trapped now, unable to follow with their forces annihilated, but they're still hiding out here. T3 apparently had kept the files from the Star Forge, or at least some of them, and with Boa-Dur's help constructed something they call a Resonance Torpedo, something the Rakata developed during a war with a race they call the Architects, in order to trigger a supernova.
Repairs are impossible for any ship with a biological crew and thus we must accept that if, no when, we return to Republic space it may not be the same Republic we left for this job.
I'm sending this to you because I trust it can be passed on to those who know how to deal with it.
We are setting out course for the closest friendly planet, Rishi.
Origin point for course interception is as follows...
May the force be with you.
"Unknown contacts," yelled one of the officers as Carth blinked at the sight now in view while the ship exited hyperspace.
"Broadcast the standards," the admiral ordered while glancing around the well of his flagship, "Bring us about to face, order the fleet to do the same in a covering formation."
A moments pause, "Request Mandalore to move into a support position with his A'denla Ad, if they turn hostile, we should be able to hit the shields enough for his ships missiles to finish the job."
"Sir, they're powering weapons, and we're getting a signal."
"What's the message?"
"They're demanding that we surrender," came the response, "For some reason they're referring to us as Republic Trash..."
Another officer yelled from his own position, "Detecting weapons fire on the planets surface mainly originating from what seems to be the location of similar signals to what's coming from those ships."
He grimaced, "Transmit information to our Sith ships, this'll be close."
Revan had left his most trusted men behind when he had tried to force the Republic to prepare itself for the real Sith threat, those ships had joined them in their attack to contain the menace before it could expand, and only seven out of the force survived, a single Centurion Class leading a half-dozen Interdictors, but they did add more firepower to the mix of Foray and Hammerheads that made up his command beyond the Pride's command abilities.
"Rev," he commented as the doors opened behind him and the familiar steps of many of his closest friends joined him on the command deck, "It seems just like old times, we seem to leap from firestorm to firestorm trying to stay alive in order to pull off a miracle or two in the end."
"We're getting a transmission from Mandalore's ship."
"What?"
"You're son does seem to have some spunk after all," came the grim and yet friendly chuckle of Canderous Ordo, now turned Mandalore, "He insisted on joining the idea my men launched."
"What did Dustil do?"
While he and his son rarely saw eye to eye, not to mention that the boy still refused to actually enlist while continuing involvement in the skirmishes, the boy had tagged along with the Mandalorians on the trip.
"Sir, multiple Basilisk launches detected."
Carth froze.
"He wouldn't..."
In a boarding action of the type they were pulling off, one of the attachments, as it were, for the Basilisks was of no use. When deployed against ground troops from orbit, or against any where their orbital insertion abilities could be used, they often had an attached anti-personnel rocket designed to attach to the underside and fire when the retro's were triggered, mainly as a way to clear the landing zone of hostiles underneath.
However, the mountings for the weapon were always in place, and the rails normally had few uses beyond their intended one due to such a placement.
In null-gravity with no need to survive re-entry, on the other hand, the combined force had come up with something far more creative, as the Confederate forces found out a few moments after the wardroids slammed into the hull, the massive claws allowing the warmachines easy positioning upon their prey.
The droid response teams scrambled through the labyrinth of corridors to the nearest airlock to exit and confront their unexpected foe, only to encounter the airlock already cycling and backed off to take up covering positions around the compromised one.
They had little warning for the nearest Basilisk to unload the entire magazine of its Shatter missiles into the adjacent segment of the hull.
Unprepared for the attack, and with only a few droids still functional enough to observe the almost beastial device extend its belly near the floor and watch dark metal forms rise, the metallic gray forms rising as one when their hands released their unfeeling grips before rising as one, pale blue photoreceptors flashing on as they all seemed to respond to an unheard question as one being.
"Statement: HK-51 unit Aleph has been deployed, unit is eager to proceed and cause unrestricted damage to hostile vessel."
One of the B-1 series guards managed to make a comment while the electric blue wave of power that signified their foes having mounted shields.
"Oh sithspit!"
"Dustil?" he heard the voice of his father over the comms in his armor, a suit of Mandalorian armor that he'd begun to use as a way to distance himself from what was the life he had believed was for him.
"I hear you," he responded a moment later while dropping from his own position, releasing the harness from its moorings upon one of the Basilisks and waited beside the still venting hole in the Lucrehulk, the bursts of blaster fire the defenders were dying off as the HK's finished securing their beachhead, the magnetic boots producing a loud thump on contact with the deckplating, mere milimeters from the sparking cables still live through the insertion.
"What are you doing?"
"Well, the plan was to tag along with the battalion of sociopathic junk piles and get some answers before they wreck the place."
"With the Basilisks engaging the enemy ships in orbit," Revan mused while watching the displays, "We're going to need to do something else on the ground, at least to figure out what's going on down there."
"What do you suggest?"
"I'll take a small force down to the surface," the smirk audible as the former Jedi and Sith turned to exit the command well, "I'll take the Hawk down."
A brief nod from the admiral, "Atton can fly it, other than him, who are you taking?"
"HK and Bao-Dur, that should make sure we can figure out just what the hell is going on here."
"Hey Rev," he heard one of the others he had left behind to prepare for the coming Sith, Mission Vao yell, "Are we definately ont he right side here?"
"Whether or not we're helping the right side is not the issue," he stated while leaving, "The Republic is what we sacrificed for then, and I'm not going to repeat the actions that created much of the mess to begin with."
The automated doors shut behind him an instant later.
"Well," came a tired voice from an even older human, "That was depressing."
"Jolee," the twi'lek commented, "I think it's more because he's still got issues."
Canderous Ordo watched the battle with an eerie calm, the initial forays were comparatively simple measures, though with the combat Basilisks already deployed, he would be forced to leave the ground battle to the Republic and Sith forces.
A moments pause as he watched the familiar orange and white shape of the Ebon Hawk exit the Pride and head towards the surface.
"Mandalore," one of his men stated, "Lord Revan is heading to the surface, what are your orders?"
"Launch the Davaab's," he answered calmly, "And prepare the Basilisk transport."
A quick nod from the Neo-Crusader.
"I need two volunteers to accompany me to the surface," he stated while heading for the doors, "Listen to Onasi's orders, we swore to follow Revan to the beyond and back, we aren't losing him here."
"Yes Mandalore," he nodded, "Permission to accompany you."
"No, your expertise is needed here, I need an able captain for the ship."
"Mandalore, the enemy fleet has deployed fighters as have our allies."
The mix of Aureks and Sith Interceptors joined their own Davaabs in the melee while the two fleets continued to move into position for the coming slugging match.
"Pass information to the Pride, inform Revan I'm on my way."
"Is there a reason for the Sith armor?" the iridonian asked as he adjusted the helmet again.
Atton smirked behind his similar armor.
"Yes, Rishi's atmosphere is not the best for long term exposure," Revan stated from his position behind them, "Plus the armor is insulated against the chill there unlike most of the Republic armor."
A brief pause as the barrage of weapons fire lanced up at them from what looked like a landing craft of some sort.
"Not to mention that it makes things a bit easier with retaining a comlink signal with Carth," the Sith continued before a familiar presence brushed his mind.
He glanced back down the corridor to the cockpit and grinned, "You might as well come out, no point in hiding."
"Yes," the wizened voice of an even more ancient looking JedI Master responded, "And I was not hiding, merely deciding how to accompany you on this new quest of yours Revan."
"I had believed that you would be attempting to contact Coruscant Master Tokare."
The being chuckled slightly, "I simply do not wish to let the Republic of this time know of us before we have the facts of our situation."
"I'm unsure what we should be doing, the force is our only real guide," a pause as the ship shook from a hit, "Or at least it was until they started preparing to attack us."
"Revan, as with everything concerning those gathered under your banner," Vandar Tokare stated, "Things are bound to become more and more complicated with each passing moment."
"At least you didn't decide to invite yourself via a stun grenade this time," the former Dark Lord of the Sith commented.
"Hang onto something," Atton yelled, "This is going to get interesting."
Bastila focused, feeling the mind of the exiled general matching hers as they both entered the meditative state.
Battle Meditation was a tool, and a powerful one, granted to only a few by the force, and it was one that did not simply add the power of multiple users working together, it multiplied the effect.
Mandalorian, Republic, and Sith warriors would all gain the benefit they could provide, while their senses linked their forces together in unity towards a single purpose.
From Carth in his position commanding the fleet, to Dustil leading the charge through the enemy ship, to Revan preparing to begin the ground assault unknowing of the Mandalorian backup about to join him in the mission, to the fighter squadrons roaring into their dogfights, they were there.
Sasha grimaced as a blast came close to hitting her Davaab fighter, the Mandalorian craft rocking slightly with the near miss.
However, she didn't scare easily, and the fact that she survived the destruction of the Dantooine Enclave while awaiting her father.
The fact that the attack had left her an orphan anyway made it even harder, it was what came later that had guided her. And the Mandalorians that came later took her in, and unlike the ones she had first encountered, these ones were different.
She recognized the voice of the one who slew Esok and followed him, Revan had saved her once, and she followed one who followed Revan. Now she was a part of the fight, and seeing what she had dreamed of.
A Sith Interceptor covered her wing as more of the odd fighters poured out of the enemy capital ships, taking out three of them that had angled in on the combined squadrons.
"Atton," Bao-Dur asked as he glanced back, noting only the constant menace of HK-47's glare and the odd presence of the miniature Jedi master, "Where's Revan?"
The former Jedi Hunter blinked, "I've got a bad feeling about this!"
Revan relaxed into an almost trace state as the boarding ramp opened before him, the empty sky and swirling winds all that was insight before the distant ground far below.
He released a breath and dashed across the cargo bay, picking up speed before diving into the void below.
A moment of perfect calm before the force warned him to react, reaching out with one of his gauntlets to snag the top of a Vulture-droids wing, using it to arrest his momentum while the crushgaunt tore thought he cheap armor with ease and the shriek of rending metals.
The fighter spun, losing control and corckscrewing wildly as Revan landed in a crouch atop it for a half second.
Falling deeper into the guidance of the force, Revan leaped again, a trail of wires still tightly grasped in the hand. His evacuation of the mobile perch a mere fraction of a second before the unstable and out of control craft slammed into its wingmate.
When the cable snapped tight, Revan held firm and pushed with the force, arcing to the right and letting the chord entangle itself in the walker shift mechanisms before releasing it and launching himself upwards again.
Stretching out into a dive as he crested the upwards path, the former Sith Lord passed easily between blasts of cannon fire directed his way before landing on the attacker.
The force surged as he reached out, forcing the craft to fire its energy torpedoes while it swerved and shook, trying to dislodge the stowaway and staggered through another pair of fighter, eliminating one of them while the entangled one he'd damaged earlier finally slammed into the ground in a iridescent fireball rising across the horizon as a miniature sun.
Rising, the knight pushed all the power he could into a strike, driving one of his crushgaunt empowered fists through the top of the machine and smashing the receiver guiding it, shrapnel slicing into the fire control systems and arming the remaining torpedoes.
Revan reacted in a flash as the last of the six that pursued the freighter into the atmosphere opened fire, the detonation of his last mode of conveyance giving him far more momentum that before as he rocketed towards the fighter the ground now in clear view as it dove and the wielder of the force landed.
With a surge of the force, he pulled one of the other tricks up his sleave and disconnected his boots from the magnetic boot soles that attached to his armor while overloading them, amplifying the pull as he kicked off mere meters from the ground.
The magnetic flare was enough to change the trajectory of the fighter from an escapable one that it had planned for letting the C-9979's defensive guns to eliminate its boarder into a collision course with said landing craft.
Lord Revan landed in a casual crouch a fraction of a second before the two spacecraft collided, the fighter bypassing the armor in its course and plowed headlong into the droid deployment bay before slamming into the reactor while vainly attempting to change course or slow down.
A pulse from the force cleared the landing pad with a 350 degree shock wave as his lightsaber slipped into his hand.
Revan had landed.
Hevy grimaced as the pain shot through him.
With his injuries, there was no possible way out
The blaster burns made it hard to move at all as he tried to look for the detonator.
"Do we take prisoners?" he heard one of the clankers ask when the facility shook violently and several of the lights and consoles lost power while others dimmed.
"Uh oh," another of his enemies stated when the roof collapsed ontop of them, a vaguely familiar crafts landing struts having smashed the droids leaving him to wonder just what the hell was going on as it opened revealing three havily armed and armored figures.
"Bralor, Kelborn," the silver armored one in the middle ordered his flanking guards which were wearing bulkier armor in gold and crimson respectively, "Fan out, we need to know what the crink is going on here."
"Yes, Mandalore," both responded in a fraction of a second while the leader slipped a repeater that partially made him jealous.
What the hell were mandalorians doing here, and they didn't look like the Cuy'val Dar on Kamino.
"Sir, the signal from the planet has stopped," one of the droids stated from its position on the bridge while a momentary flash of fire followed by more signaled the death of one of the two droid control ships in the fleet, the other was still relatively intact, but was having difficulties repelling boarders.
A low growl escaped the speaker attached to the throat of the cyborg monstrosity overseeing the fight.
"Signal the remainder of the fleet..." he paused as yet another of his ships went down in a blaze of glory, he was impressed by the newcomers the enemy fleet was relatively underpowered as far as he could see it in the power of their guns and shields, but they could take a beating and had the sheer numbers to shred his forces, "...Evacuate, our mission has failed."
The entire plan had hinged on being able to take the listening post quietly, and the handful of untrained and raw clones stationed on the Rishi moon should have gone without a chance to warn the republic before they made their strike at the heart of the 'Grand Army' of the Republic, Kamino.
Now that these fools had delayed him long enough to apparently flatten the transmitter, well, there was no point in continuing the slugging match with what had to be a bunch of outdated craft from some outer rim worlds fleet that was phasing in new ships.
However, the recordings from the sensors scared him as he replayed the images of one of the more insane warriors he stood against take out a half-dozen fighters while in freefall before the signal cut out with the last fighter and the droid lander colliding in mutual destruction, but that was a survivable height from the last leap.
Alarms began to play as more ships seemed to exit hyperspace directly behind them.
"Sir Republic star destroyers have entered the system!"
Dustil grimaced as he followed the call of the force, using the blast cannon he'd retrieved off of one of the droids his troops had mowed down on their way towards the core.
Since his experiences on Koriban, he'd rarely bothered to touch his lightsaber, but left it in its place on his utility belt.
"Aggravation: These tin cans do not seem to be on the flamable side."
A slight shudder at the machine that had stuck with him since the attack on the Sith worlds, the most recognizable visually of the machines due to the forced repairs needed after it set itself on fire at one point.
HK-51 unit six hundred and sixty-six, the pale orange of its photoreceptors a product of the factory blue ones being partially melted when the machine was surrounded and decided to use a flame projector on a stack of adjacent fuel drums rather than be defeated and the flaming pyromaniac merrily switched to melee weapons and charged its living foes while cackling insanely.
If the young Onasi didn't know better, he would have considered that his father had ordered the maniac to protect him although Revan did give him the raving psychotic.
While HK-47 was a sociopath, at least the rust red droid was relatively controllable, the HK unit he was stuck with had found billions of ways around the simplest orders to do whatever the hell it felt like at the moment, and more often than not, that meant that the thing was setting something on fire.
"This way," he stated to the droid, "Prison cells are this way, while the rest of the attack force takes the ship, we can probably find some answers."
"Excited Statement: Of course master, if nothing else it will mean more meatbags to test a new definition in my internal dictionary."
Dustil shuddered, but spoke before he could stop himself, "Definition?"
"Statement: I believe the term you meatbags use is Barbecue."
The due stopped as Onasi spotted the section before him and the force cages inside.
"This is Dustil Onasi with the boarding force," he stated over his commlink, "Deploy a medical transport for pickup, the situation is bad here."
"Understood."