Chapter Twelve: Command
Revan stood on the bridge of the Juggernaut, looking out across the stars. In such moments he found it easy to meditate, reaching out and feeling the soldiers aboard the vessels under his command. His soldiers, willing to do his bidding, at all costs to acheive victory; to protect the innocent and save the Republic. Yes, to save the Republic, he told himself. Did he still believe it?
Three years of war had changed him, he knew. Dark shadows danced at the edges of his conciousness, fluttering into view only in his moments of deepest meditation. Hundreds of thousands had perished under his command, yet they followed him still. They knew, as he did what the ultimate price for defeat would be, and like him, they would not accept it under any circumstances. They gave themselves to him, for him. His senses shifted, though his body remained still as ever. He felt his closest friend through the expanses of space, felt the troops Malak led into battle with such ferocity. He fell deeper, reaching out, yet ever more inward, fleetingly brushing the senses of his enemy. The dark shadows danced around him now, their forms indistinct, yet disturbingly familiar.
Fear rose in him, and he struggled to master it. He remembered the words of his Master, what seemed like eons ago. Few who have walked the Dark Path ever return from it. The dark shadows withdrew, and he relaxed, returning from his meditations to a world more physical, but in some ways less real. He heard the shuffle of booted feet on deckplates as crewmen moved about the bridge. His eyes observed the planet below, recently liberated from the Mandalorians.
His meditations finished, he turned his mind to what he had seen. The Mandalorians. He had briefly touched their leader, could feel the frustration, the humility of defeat, the grudging respect of being bested by a worthy foe. Yes, he had felt all those, and more. He drifted back into trance for just a moment, playing back what he had sensed...ah, there, he felt it clearly: desperation. So, the game of dejarik was drawing to a close, and his opponent was down to his last move. Revan smiled as he looked up from the planet an into the black void between the stars. It was time for his final move as well, then; one that he had long been planning. It only required the proper piece on the board.
"Challenge: What are you doing here?" Servomotors whined as his bodyguard droid moved to intercept the visitor interupting his meditations. He turned, and saw his playing piece walking towards him.
"It's alright, HK, I summoned him. Resume your post."
"Resigned acceptance: Yes Master, though vaporizing meatbags is far preferable to merely watching them." HK-47 lowered his blaster rifle and stepped aside to allow the Jedi to approach Revan.
The young Jedi bowed slightly in greeting, "You asked to see me sir?"
"Yes, Iacen. I wanted to congratulate you on your courage at Dxun. You fought well under difficult circumstances." The young General had ordered a charge through a minefield in the jungle in order to take the Mandalorian outpost. Most of his company had been slaughtered, but the outpost fell, securing the victory. Since then, he had played a decisive role in many battles, but had also begun to speak out about the casualties the Republic was suffering.
"Thank, you sir. You have orders, I take it?"
Revan nodded. "Yes. The end is near, and it is time to draw the enemy out for the final blow. Muster your division, along with the 23rd, 67th, and 109th. Assemble them into task force 98, and depart the system. You movement should entice the rest of the Mandalorian fleet to strike, putting my ships here in range to attack their leader's fleet."
Iacen frowned slightly. "A bold plan, sir. Who will lead the task force, and what will be the destination?"
"You will be in command. Take your fleet to Malachor V."