My Idea Box

FANFICTION IDEA: Preparing for the Future (Prologue 3 for SWTOR AU)

Disclaimer: Don't own SW or SWTOR. They belong to Disney, Lucasfilm, and Bioware, not me.

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The dark cloak fell over the grass, coveting them from the pouring rain. Grunts and pounding fists of Mandalorian training went ignored as a line of footprints trailed from the muddy floor up the metal ramp.

As he entered the complex, Revan sighed inside his mask. It had been several years since the last time he was on Dxun. The old Mandalorian camp was still around and was occupied by Mandalorians as it had been during the Mandalorian Wars. Unlike their brethren, the new Mandalorians served under a new Mandalore. And Revan needed them now as he did, fifteen years ago.

A series of light technical whirls caught Revan's attention. He continued his long stride into the complex's gray metal until he came across a bunch of computer terminals, shining the only source of light on the metal.

Revan saw Mandalore the Preserver at the terminal, his helmed head turning away the computer screen. "I was wondering when you would show up," Mandalore said to the approaching Jedi. ""

Revan wasted no time when he reached his friend. "Has there been any news?"

Revan could see the stern stare under Mandalore's T-shaped visor. "My scouts just came back from the fringe systems," Mandalore answered. "They found the missing Republic ships. They were destroyed and most of the crew were killed. The marks on their bodies... well, you can guess."

Revan grimaced under his mask. So, they started their approach. "Did they find the Sith?"

"They did. They fought hard, but my men fought harder. They made it back with the survivors."

The pride was obvious, even without the Force, but Revan could sense something else. Sadness, regret. It was not hard to guess where it came from.

"What about Mira?" Revan asked, barely able to hide his concern. "Did she make it out?"

Mandalore silently bowed his head in respect. His fears confirmed, Revan bowed his head as well. Mira had been one of the few connections left to Meetra. She trained to become much more than the bounty she had been, and she did. By the time Revan return, the young woman was a fully trained Jedi Knight. Now, she was gone.

Revan finally spoke. "How did she die?"

"She stayed behind," Mandalore answered. "She helped the rest of my men escape and fought off the Sith... She died like a true Mandalorian."

Revan's mask hid his sad smile. Mira wouldn't have liked to hear that but it did not matter. There was a more mortifying truth behind the new. Mira fell at the hands of a returning enemy. The emperor's son and his growing army...

The red mask met the relic adorning Mandalore's face. "We need to move," Revan said. "It won't be long before the Sith will try to head for Known Space."

Mandalore did not hesitate. "And I'll gather as many Mandalorians as I can. We'll head out to meet with the Sith."

"Canderous," Revan said, addressing his old friend by his name, "This will be too dangerous. We probably won't come back from this, and the Mandalorians will need their leader."

To that, Mandalore snorted. "I'm an old warrior. If I die, it'll be on my own terms, and you know I'll follow you, Revan, no matter what."

Revan held a sigh. He should have known better than to convince Mandalore, a veteran of both the Mandalorian Wars and the Jedi Civil War. The others already said the same thing, and Mandalore was more loyal than most.

"Be ready, then. We have much to do," Revan said before leaving him...

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Meetra's eyes snapped open. They fell on the ancient metal of the Mandalorian complex, rusting and cracked from the centuries of abandonment. With the computers long dead, only natural light flooded into the chamber.

Meetra's lips thinned with frustration. She learned how to use the Force to search for memories of the past, much like the Kiffar's psychometry. The vision, however, was too short to find any answers. There was little about Revan, about the Sith, even about Mandalore. Things that she did not already knew.

Sadly, there was one thing Meetra learned from it: Mira. The fiery headed woman was a fine Jedi, one of her many pupils, Meetra remembered, despite her rather 'humble' beginnings as a bounty hunter.

Another hole dug into Meetra's heart. After three centuries, Mira would have been long dead, like the others. However, Meetra knew about Mira's death for a while, even before her imprisonment.

"Her death will occur in many years time on a forgotten planet, saving the lives of others. But it will be her choice, and she will have no regrets."

Meetra stopped herself from frowning. The prophecy of her final teacher echoed in her ears as it did on that day on Malachor V. Now, it became a reality. Mira fell to the Sith, barely fighting them back, and it had been in vain.

A soft sigh left Meetra as she stood and left the complex. The rumbling thunder grew louder with every step through the Mandalorian camp.

It was not the same since Meetra visited, centuries ago. The gray metal of hangar bays and bunkers were weathered down by the constant rain and wing, the training grounds were abandoned by the Mandalorian trainees, and even the air remained silent withouth the whirls of computer terminals and the main generator. Bodies of Mandalorians were everywhere, the armors as empty as the camp they resided in and their bones fed to Dxun's carnivorous beasts.

The Ebon Hawk stood in the center of it all. Though as ancient as the camp itself, the ship looked new with its cleaner hull, save for a few scratches here and there. While Meetra took slow steps to the ship, large footsteps echoed down the ramp.

"Anything?" Scourge's voice followed as the former Wrath got off the ramp.

Meetra shook her head, dejected. "Nothing."

She did not need the Force to know Scourge's rising ire. "This is getting tiresome!" he scowled, and kicked a Mandalorian helmet aside.

"We can't give up, Scourge," Meetra said. "There has to be something. Something Revan might have left for us to find..."

Scourge cut her off. "We've been searching for months. Dantooine, even Manaan. There's nothing left in any of the places we've looked." He looked around. "Let alone here."

Meetra let out a soft sigh. She would not let Scourge completely win this round, but he was right. The search gave no answers about Revan–nothing they didn't already know, that is.

"Did we get any calls?" she asked, hoping to changing the subject.

"Actually, yes. The council called in while you were away."

Meetra raised a surprised eyebrow. "Really? What did they say?"

"They believe the new emperor is planning something," Scourge replied with tight lip. "What, they won't say. They want us to figure out what is it."

That was no surprise. The new emperor, the former Darth Nox, had been largely successful against the Republic and the rebellious Dark Council. Something must have been serious if he was planning for another assault. The Jedi Council, themselves, kept their secrets close after finding out that one of their own was a servant of the old emperor.

Finally, Meetra asked, "So, where are we heading?"

To that, Scourge simply grunted, "Belsavis."

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AN: And this was the third and final prologue for my trilogy that rewrote SWTOR's story. If anyone had seen the previous two parts, then you'd know I wanted to go in a vastly different direction. Since I'm just tired of the SW franchise and fandom, there is no way I want to go back to this story. In any case, I do hope you find it interesting. Until next time, take care.

-W.S.