Title: Strength
Author: MordorianNazgul
Fandom: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic
Rating: PG
Category: Drama
Warnings: Spoilers.
Summary: His first concern is strength.
Archiving: Feel free, just credit me.
Feedback: Reviews make me happy. And so do flames.
Disclamer: Star Wars belongs to Lucas. KotOR belongs to Bioware. I don't own anything but my concept for Revan.
Note: This is pre-KotOR. This is also not my favorite of the ones I've written, so I apologize if this vignette is hideous.
"Send the 501st to Kashyyk."
Malak was confused about his order. He could tell from the look on his friend's face. "But Da… but Revan, the 501st is needed at Deralia. You know that."
He gazed at the computer screen in his quarters on the Avenger. "If we send forces there, then we weaken the ones at Kashyyk, Malak. Kashyyk is more important, they have resources we need. And I've taken the 4th to Kuat. We need the shipyards there to stay running if we want any chance to survive this war."
"So you're just going to let the Mandalorians have Dxun? After all we've done to keep it out of their grasp, you're giving it up?"
"Yes. Yes, I am. The Kuati shipyards are more important." Malak still hadn't learned. He wondered if Malak would ever learn; battle plans were not his old friend's forte. "I want the 501st headed to Kashyyk, Malak."
"Deralia was your home, Revan!"
"Protecting it would leave weakness that we can't afford, Malak!" he snapped back.
Malak gazed at him sadly. "Of course, Commander Revan. I will do as you ask." As he left, an Iridonian trotted in. A remote whizzed in behind him.
"You asked for me, Commander?" the zabrak asked.
He turned to look outside. "I did. You are the Lieutenant Bao-Dur I've heard so much about?" The zabrak nodded. "Excellent. I'm not sure if General Donn has informed you yet, but we are preparing our final assault. I have heard that you are the best there is at making weaponry. That is why I brought you here."
"What do you want built, sir?"
"I need something that will use the gravity of Malachor V to destroy the Mandalorian fleet." He wouldn't mention that it would do to have it destroy the fleet he sent to activate it; Tobias's fleet. Kill two shyracks with one stone, as it were. He'd stop the Mandalorians, and destroy those disloyal to him.
"I'll see what I can do, Commander."
Behind his mask, he smiled grimly. "Thank you, Lieutenant. You're putting an end to the war."
The zabrak smiled at him, nodded, and left. It was some time before the next one came in. "I heard you've been looking for me, sir." He knew this one's face. Atton. Atton something. He was never good with names.
"I have been, Atton." He picked up a datapad, tapping a few buttons on it. "I'm transferring you from the 501st to the 22nd. I think you'll like the company there better." The 22nd was Tobias's fleet, the ones that thought he was a lunatic and would have to be stopped after the war was over, or the ones that hoped he would give up command of the army when the war finished.
They could take the army over his dead body.
"When you return, I want to speak with you again, Atton. I'll have an important job for you, and I hope you will be willing to take it." It took effort to not say 'if you return.' But he had a sneaking suspicion that this man just might live; he'd survived on Dxun when the rest of his strike team hadn't. What had Kreia always told him? 'The Force looks out for fools.'
Atton nodded, pushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. "I will. Thank you, sir."
He turned back to the window as Atton left. A multitude of stars shone brightly outside. But the stars, and the planets around them didn't concern him. The places with no stars, the places filled with darkness did.
He clasped his hands behind his back. "Whatever you are, I know of you. I will not let this galaxy fall to you. The Republic will be strengthened, even if I have to destroy it with my own two hands. And then I'll come for you, and your hidden empire." The dark places were hiding something from him.
He'd find it, even if he had to tear the galaxy to shreds.