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"Lord Vader," Tanda Pyrl addressed as she spoke to the Dark Lord via holocom. "I have received word. Most of Ozzel's forces have heeded the surrender and ceased fighting."
"Most," Vader repeated, looking to the closest thing Ozzel had to a second-in-command. "Commander Cecius."
The man stepped forward rigidly. "Their locations, Admiral?"
Pyrl gave him a level look before answering. "Two areas. The first and largest is near an auxiliary reactor near the port stern. They reported that they could not hear the announcement at all in that area."
"I'm not surprised. A Nutter we killed recently set off some type of lasting EMP bomb there, so communication has been having problems in the area," Cecius turned to one of the other officers in the room. "Send out orders to get a runner to them. Make sure they know Ozzel is dead."
"Sir," the man saluted before quickly leaving.
"The other one?" Cecius asked Pyrl.
The admiral looked off to the side, and they could hear another speaking as she reconfirmed their locations. "The other is of minor holdouts in a central cantina near hangar seven."
Cecius paused in thought before looking at Vader. "My Lord, that is outside anywhere our forces have been recently. That isn't one of ours."
"Well, I doubt it's Piett's forces," Pyrl remarked. "A group of nutters, perhaps?"
"They don't tend to work well with others, even each other," Cecius retorted with a dry, knowing look.
"Admiral, tell troopers to attempt to parley the force. Failing that, they are authorized to engage and execute all of them," Vader ordered firmly.
"Yes, My Lord," Pyrl saluted before the communication flickered out of assistance.
"What a terrible mess this has become," Cecius said with a head shake.
"Indeed," Vader agreed levelly as he turned his full attention to the officer, who tried not to shiver under his attention. "Tell me, Commander, why did you join Ozzel?"
Cecius stood a bit straighter at those words and tried to make it less obvious when he swallowed nervously. "I will be frank, Lord Vader? I was scared. It was...less about following Ozzel and more about wanting to get home."
Vader let him speak, interested in this answer. This would hardly be the first officer who had expressed a desire to find a way back to the previous reality.
"I didn't know what to think, Sir. Time Travel? Really? Did this mean we would cease to exist if we changed too much? If something happened to us in the past, did it affect us somehow? The whole topic of loyalty to the empire and everything else? I was part of a group that wasn't focusing on that. We had a bigger question: Can we get home, somehow return to our time?" Cecius explained earnestly. "Piett was obviously going to follow you and you...made your intentions fairly obvious when you killed the Emperor, that you would stay and alter the past to your own design."
Vader didn't dispute that point. Returning to that timeline only had the appeal of killing Sidious again, this time with his own hands. "And so those that were more wary of such an endeavor turned to Ozzel in hopes that he might be willing to take the Executor and return from which we came," Vader deduced the rest.
"...Is this the part where you choke me to death, My Lord?" Cecius asked in resignation.
"Not this day, Commander," Vader assured. "I have no knowledge of if there is a path back to that time and place, or how to reach such a thing. But if I did, you would be free to seek it and return there."
Cecius blinked. "My Lord?"
"Do not mistake my mercy for an act of kindness. I have no need for soldiers trying to flee my command," Vader explained. "Ultimately, killing you and releasing you to that timeline would amount to the same thing."
Cecius was giving him a look that Vader had seen many times now. There had been more than a few soldiers of the Death Squadron who had thought the same thing.
He's changed.
Vader wouldn't say that, personally.
After all, he was lying. Partially. He'd have no issue with these men returning to the original timeline, save one factor.
Sidious.
He had no doubt his former Master would try to intrude his power and influence into two timelines if given the chance. Barring that, he'd surely try to have Vader killed. But if Vader knew it was a one-way trip back, that none more could venture to this point in time? Well, if some fools thought they had better odds under Sidious than himself, who was he to stop them?
In the end, Vader was still the same Dark Lord who would crush their windpipes for incompetence and failure. What stayed his hand was not only the lack of endless reserves to replace them but also not having to deal with the nepotism and shortcomings that crept through the imperial forces due to various levels of corruption that Palpatine encouraged- because as the Emperor, he controlled much through that same corruption.
Vader, however, was more direct in how he controlled his forces; Direct, and efficient.
A beeping interrupted any further conversation, indicating another incoming communication.
Cecius, getting no sign to stop from Vader, pressed a button to receive the transmission as another hologram appeared.
Or, it tried to. All that came in was static and a distorted voice that was utterly unintelligible.
"Soldier? You're coming in unclear, try adjusting your device," Cecius called out with a frown.
Vader tilted his helm slightly as he felt something familiar in the air.
"-Hello? -working rig-?"
Cecius frowned. "That doesn't sound like a trooper."
"It is not," Vader answered, recognizing the voice.
"Oh, wait, I'm holding it upside down," the voice said as the entire hologram shifted before finally taking clear form.
The form of...
"A child?!" Cecius said in shock. "How...? Where did you come from!?"
"Farmile," Vader greeted calmly.
"Vader! I was beginning to think you forgot about me. Or died," Farmile greeted with a smile.
"Sir, you know...this child?" Cecius asked in bewilderment.
"I'm a stray he picked up," Farmile answered factually.
...Vader could find no fault with that statement and was keenly aware that he had inherited a few things from Qui-Gon Jinn after all. "Farmile, why have you left my ship?"
"And where, exactly, did you get one of our communicators?" Cecius couldn't help but add in.
Farmile paused, glancing at something on the floor with a hesitant look. "Right. About that?"
"How many did you kill this time, Farmile?" Vader asked casually.
Too casually for Cecius, who looked to Vader with wide eyes of disbelief before doing a double take on Farmile and wondering how dangerous this child could be.
"It wasn't even me this time!" Farmile complained, craning his neck as he glanced over at something again. "And I don't think any of them are dead? But aren't some of the Whitehelms on this city-ship trying to kill you anyway?"
"...Whitehelms?" Cecius questioned in further confusion.
"Not anymore," Vader acknowledged and answered. "Or none should be."
"Ahh. Well, then I hope they're not dead. But if they are, again, I didn't do it this time," Farmile said defensively. "Also, Vader? Is your name Mallory?"
Cecius blinked and shook his head quietly. Was this real? Was he bleeding out and hallucinating on the floor somewhere?
Vader, however, paused for another reason. "...Mal'ary," he realized with deep satisfaction. "That is a title they have for me in Honoghran."
"My Lord?" Cecius questioned, not sure what the Dark Lord was talking about anymore.
"Tell me what happened, Farmile," Vader instructed as he ignored Cecius.
"Well, after you left, there were some people who was trying to break into your ship. They were doing a pretty bad job at it too," Farmile explained thoughtfully. "Then one of your short friends showed up and killed them. Somehow. I think they might have eaten some of them?"
"Potentially. Continue," Vader instructed.
"Right, they seemed to trust me because I was on your ship, and they could smell you on the ship? They were kind of weird, but I felt like they were telling the truth, so I can't really say I'm much less strange since I'm the one that came out to meet them," Farmile rambled. "They took me to get some food and then some Whitehelms came and fighting started. They said they only tried to knock them out though?"
"Food, "Vader noted, recalled exactly what hangar he had arrived in. "You're in the cantina."
"I don't know what that word means. Is that like a cafeteria?" Farmile asked curiously.
Vader felt the urge to sigh and killed it with prejudice. "Where are they now?"
"Oh, they're right here. I...don't know how to use this thing and they are...too embarassed to talk to you this way? I don't know," Farmile answered, looking over his shoulder. "I think they're worried about something though. Vader, do ships like this have space monsters in the vents?"
"I will be there shortly," Vader stated without answering.
"That's a yes, isn't it?" Farmile asked before the line was cut off.
"Lord Vader, I am very confused. Should I send more reinforcements to the cantina?" Cecius asked curiously.
"No, Commander, they would only risk being added to the list of casualties," Vader answered factually as he turned to leave.
"But by who, Sir?" Cecius asked with a furrowed brow.
Vader paused as he waited for the door to open.
"The Noghri, Commander."
Meanwhile
Arden Lyn crept through the shadows of these maintenance rooms. She was no Plagueis, she couldn't perfectly hide her presence while being right in front of the Jedi. So, she'd have to either make her leave soon or let herself be discovered.
She had planted some explosives to stir some chaos, and it seemed that Plagueis had successfully turned this conspiracy on itself. More specifically, he had turned the Albingi conspirators against their human advisors, which was ideal. Racial supremacist types willing to commit genocide tended to be a bit trigger-happy, so she was sure Vader's runaway would all be dead and cold soon.
But not yet.
She had been tracking them as they led further into the bowels below the government building, obviously some escape route. They had killed many of their former allies. Some had tried to kill them first, others killed before they even heard the orders to apprehend them.
It wasn't very clean, obviously, how they left a trail of bodies to follow. But they were desperate, it seemed…scared even. Good. She wanted them to think Vader himself was hunting them personally before this was over.
But more than that? She wanted to know, what was the plan?
The Alberry blight plot was a credit-a-dozen plan in terms of motive and goal; Just another species where its different subgroups were too hung up over unimportant factors like their appearances.
But what would these turncoats of Vader want with this plot? They could just be doing a job for credit and influence, but this all seemed too much for so simple of ambition.
No, there was something bigger going on here. And she was sure that Vader would want to know just what these fools had been planning.
She silenced her thoughts as she heard loud voices coming from a room ahead.
"-found us! I told you he would find us!" one of them yelled.
"Calm down. We have no reason to believe that Vader sent one of his hounds after us. I think these orange bastards just decided to use us as some kind of scapegoat," another said firmly.
"You think it's a coincidence? With Qui-Gon and Skywalker?! You know Vader keeps an eye on those two. Grrr, I knew we should have stayed low and did nothing until they left," the first ranted.
"And we didn't!" a third voice pointed out in frustration. "Suck it up, man! We barely did anything besides have them apprehend Damask, and we had to! That Muun was getting too close to possibly figuring out a cure himself."
"Not to feed the paranoia, but are we sure Damask isn't an agent of Vader's?" a fourth asked thoughtfully. "I mean, how exactly did he survive that little execution we left him to?"
Lyn smirked and slid into the doorframe. For a brief second, none of them noticed her. One man was pacing back and forth, obviously the more jumpy one. A second was calmly gathering weapons and supplies that had been stored in the room, placing them on a table. A third was holding a blaster rifle and looking tense about the entire situation. The final one was the sole woman in the group, leaning against the wall with a curious look about her.
The one with the rifle noticed her first, stiffening.
"Sorry, but no, he doesn't work for us," Lyn informed casually as they were all suddenly looking at her.
They moved to fire at her.
For someone like her, it was painfully slow and telegraphed.
The Force sped her legs forth, and with just a bit of it manipulating their weapons, there was no chance of any of their blasters hitting her. To them, it looked like she had dodged through an impossible-to-find path of safety through their attacks.
She was on one of them, fist buried in his gut, the impact rupturing more than one organ as he collapsed to his knees to suffer a slow and painful death. She wrenched the rifle from his hand and physically threw it at her next victim. It hit him in the temple, disorienting him and nearly knocking him into the third male.
She rounded on the woman, who was aiming a blaster pistol at Lyn. Or she had been, until Lyn grabbed the offending hand and squeezed hard enough to break several of the small bones against the grip of the gun, causing her to scream in shock at the pain.
The fourth member, perhaps the wisest, made a run for the door. Lyn turned to stop him until the second man recovered from the disorientation of his head wound and charged at her.
The woman took this chance to flee as well.
Lyn smirked as she swiftly kicked the man in the knee, shattering and breaking it. "AHH! You disgusting piece of Sith filth!" The man cursed in agony as he fell on his back, Lyn plucking his weapon off him before he could try anything else.
"I was wondering when some of you would run away," Lyn mused to herself, looking over to her first victim. "Hmm, still alive, but he definitely wishes I would finish him off. It's a really painful way to go, all those chemicals spilling out and mixing, eating away at every part of the body they normally help protect."
The man with the shattered knee blinked through the pain. "You...you let them go on purpose."
"See, you are clever agents," Lyn said as she leaned against the table. "Now, why don't you save me some time and yourself some pain, and tell me exactly what you were planning here."
"And why would I tell you anything?" the man asked with a bloody smirk. "You only have so long before someone finds us. And I'm not afraid to die."
"You do know the Albingi are very interesting," Lyn said with a cold smile. "They are fairly "civilized" by most standards, but they have several...dark punishments for the highest criminals. Murderers, most traitors, and even rapists will only get the death sentence at worst. But those who commit "High Crimes against the Albingi People" are subjected to some very painful sentences. They don't even rule out torturing you for the rest of your life."
The man was still. "They...they haven't done that in centuries," he said uneasily.
"Yes, and what was that for? Oh, yes, one of their worst culprits of genocide against one of the Albingi Races. Tell me, what do you think they'll do to outsiders that have threatened all three races?" she asked whimsically.
He gritted his teeth. Oh, he had researched these people well, he knew very well the risks that came with this scheme. "I'll tell them everything. Even where to find Vader and his forces," he threatened, hoping to force a quick death if nothing else.
"You know, it's interesting," Lyn said with a curious frown. "If you're this desperate to not say anything...then you still think you can make something of this plan."
He said nothing, but his face told her that she wasn't incorrect.
Lyn chuckled. "Oh, is that how it is?" she said as if deciphering something from his silence. "This plan was never about helping one faction of the Albingi. You had something much more interesting plotted out, didn't you?"
The man gritted his teeth, scanning the room frantically for a way out of this situation.
"Well, I suppose that's good enough for now," Lyn mused as she moved to walk past the man and leave the room.
The man blinked and silently watched her go. Was she? Letting him live?
He tried to turn but found he couldn't move his legs at all. And his chest was feeling damn for some reason...?
He looked down and numbly realized there was a gaping wound in the middle of his chest. He could see the broken piece of his ribcage past the blood and gore leaking out of him. It was about the size of a fist.
He looked back to Lyn and couldn't help wondering, when had she struck him...?
Arden Lyn chuckled as she felt the life drain from the conspirator before his body hit the floor with a thud. As a master of Teras Kasi and a powerful wielder of the Force, it was easy for her to land a deadly blow against a Force-less foe. It was always interesting though, their reactions. Some went into shock and didn't realize their lethal injury until they laid their sights on it. Others were less fortunate and were in utter agony and confusion in their last moments.
She left the room, looking down two paths of the hall. She could sense many coming from one direction, and the other, she could sense the humans she was hunting. She made sure to leave the room open so the Albingi security would find these dead fools and their supply room. That should slow them down a bit, or at least thin down their numbers some.
She wasn't planning on killing any Albingi today, but the Force had a funny way of ruining the best-laid plans.