Chapter 57

"Master, we're back!"

J'Mikel didn't need Xiaan's exclamation, but he did appreciate it. To hear the relief and happiness in her voice after everything as they laid eyes on the Temple.

True to Vader's word, they had been dropped off on Coruscant from a smaller craft. Getting a transport to the temple wasn't too hard after that, a public vehicle piloted by a droid.

The comfort of the temple was...different than it used to be. It was once like an ever-flowing spring of calm over the restless energy of the city-planet. Now it was more like a flame in the dark, the taint of Sidious's storm leaving a sharper contrast between being closer to the Temple, or close to the Jaw.

Their hovercar landed on one of the docking platforms of the Temple. He was unsurprised to see Jedi Sentinels coming to greet them. After all, they hadn't been able to send word ahead.

"Master J'Mikel?" one of them said in surprise, their presence relaxing. While an attack wasn't truly expected, they did have tourists and others to send off at times…and occasionally lost people asking for directions. "We were not aware you had returned."

"We almost didn't," J'Mikel answered grimly, climbing out with tenderness still in his joints, Xiaan hovering close in case he needed support.

"You're hurt," the sentinel sensed as the transport left the temple. "Come, we can help you to the medical wing."

"We'd appreciate that," J'Mikel answered with a nod.

Another sentinel looked to Xiaan, approaching her. "Are you injured as well, Pada-"

The sentinel stopped as Xiaan winced. Not in pain, but in fear.

The sentinel stopped and stepped back. "Apologies."

Xiaan nodded in thanks, shame on her face.

Then she blinked and relaxed as a familiar presence washed over them.

"Good, your return is."

J'Mikel smiled as the Grandmaster approached them.

"Much you have endured, I sense," Yoda said with a grandfatherly smile.

Xiaan was relieved, but curious. Something felt different about the Grandmaster. What, she couldn't place, because it was so subtle one might not notice.

"A grand tale I believe you have," Yoda said with a nod with J'Mikel before lingering on Xiaan. "And much rest you will need."

She wanted to deny that, refute that. Her master needed help, not her. Nothing had happened to her. Not really.

It hadn't gotten that far before their rescue.

But if not for Darth Vader of all people...

She pushed that dark line of thought away. She was alive, she was safe, and she was here.

J'Mikel gently placed a hand on her back in comfort.

She didn't flinch or freeze or fear. Not if it was Master J'Mikel. He wouldn't hurt her, she knew.

And she knew he had been deeply hurting while she was being...evaluated by the Vigo, for her worth as a slave.

She wouldn't think about it, she wouldn't think about it.

Yoda watched as they went, following after at his own pace.

He sensed Vader's hand in this, in a favorable light. He wondered how others might take that development.

Not well, he expected, from certain parties.

Meanwhile

T'lanan let out a yelp of pain as the training saber was flung from her hand by the training droid. It ceased its assaults, taking on a ready pose for when she rearmed herself.

The Twi'lek made no complaint as she moved to pick up the weapon, brow set firm as she resolved to do better.

Palawa watched from a distance with watchful eyes. "So, this is what a devoted Twi'lek is like."

Vader silently joined her, even his breathing quiet as they watched the Twi'lek continue her training.

"Many say they have an inclination for being enslaved," Palawa mused. "And you hate slavery."

"Devotion by choice is not the same as servitude by force," Vader remarked.

"Yes, she won't run at the first chance," Palawa agreed. "And she'll probably do anything you ask."

Vader gave her the smallest of glances to convey his annoyance.

"I meant that honestly, not perversely," Palawa defended, pausing as T'lanan nearly knocked the droid's blade out of the grip, but the droid fended her off. "She has talent and potential. Perhaps not enough to be an apprentice, but she will be of use to you. There is just one problem."

"She behaves almost like a Jedi," Vader noted. "Despite everything, she does not call on the Dark Side."

"Give it time," Palawa said idly. "She's still basking in the relief of her savior arriving and accepting her devotion."

"This amuses you," Vader remarked dryly.

"You're a Sith Lord that commands respect and authority everywhere he goes, but you are at least a little thrown off by one person willingly dedicating her life to being useful to you," Palawa summarized with a coy look. "It is kind of funny."

"You are fortunate I didn't allow Plagueis to vivisect you when we unsealed you," Vader reminded in exasperation.

"I'm not confident he secretly didn't and just erased my memories of it," Palawa said with a shudder. "So, the former slaves get to decide between trying to make a life for themselves with freedom after we drop them off, or they can work for us. You worried some of the soldiers will have...wandering hands with non-uniform women?"

"If they do, I am sure certain women will put the fear of the void into them and make an example of them for others," Vader remarked knowingly.

Palawa hummed. She wondered, did he mean her, or their dear admiral, Tanda Pryl? "So, what will our Dark Lord be doing?"

"You have business to deal with elsewhere. I will investigate a lead on the Executor," Vader informed.

Palawa grew silent at that. The Executor. Its undiscovered status was strange and worrying. Then again, everything about Vader's situation was strange and worrying, so who was she to judge?

"T'lanan, end your training for the day,' Vader called out before turning to leave.

"Yes, Sarhoha!" T'lanan answered back, deactivating her saber. With that, she barreled up to meet with the other female in the room. "Was he displeased with my performance?" she asked curiously.

"He was neither displeased nor impressed. Considering your training has not truly begun, your skills are adequate," Palawa informed levelly, giving neither shame nor comfort.

T'lanan nodded, looking down to check her hands for any injuries beyond the minor bruises and stings that came with the training. "May I ask, do you know what he wishes to train me to be?"

"Even he doesn't know yet," Palawa answered with a shrug. "Once he begins your training in earnest, he will find where your talents lie."

T'lanan nodded, studying the woman carefully.

"What is it?" Palawa asked, almost bored now but not enough to be overtly rude.

"Do you think I am weak or foolish to not take my freedom and leave? Some of the others do, that I'm making a mistake. Even my fellow Twi'leks," T'lanan asked curiously.

"I think you have no idea what you're getting yourself into, so you are foolish in that sense," Palawa stated bluntly. "But in general, no. I know what it's like to dedicate yourself to a cause, to someone important. If you believe Lord Vader is worth serving under and dying for, then you are not foolish for it. Just devoted."

T'lanan nodded in thanks.

"May I ask how you ended up a slave?" Palawa asked curiously.

"I'm considered exotic," T'lanan said with a frown, touching her white skin and double lekku. "It made me a target. They say White Twi'leks are of a royal caste from long ago. I'm not sure if that's true or just a story to make us sell better."

Palawa said nothing as she took that in.

"I don't think I would have lasted long if Sarhoha Vader hadn't freed us," T'lanan mused with a small smile. "They were speaking of...breeding me."

Palawa dipped her head in understanding. Not just of the words, but what she felt from the Twi'lek.

This woman had contemplated suicide if her fate had taken that dark of a turn.

"Vader will have no desire for you to do such a thing," Palawa assured, if only because it was true. Vader was a Dark Lord of the Sith, but he had certain lines he would not so readily cross.

T'lanan nodded knowingly. "He hates slavery."

Palawa gave her a wary look, noticing the way she had said that. T'lanan knew that Vader had once been a slave. "Is it that easy to tell?" she asked carefully.

T'lanan smiled. It was empty. "I wouldn't say...easy. I don't think he has many former slaves offering to serve him out of genuine gratitude."

Palawa chuckled and admitted that was a rarity to herself. "What interesting times these are," she said wistfully. "Well, I hope you don't regret your decision, T'lanan."

"I won't, Lady Palawa," she promised with a determined look.

Palawa chuckled. "Palawa is my codename. Just call me Lyn. Arden Lyn."

Meanwhile

Mace Windu was not as old as the Grandmaster, but he had experienced many things.

Xiaan was not the first Jedi to be a victim of a sexual assault, male or female, and not the first he had to speak with so recently after such an event.

He had learned carefully, and sometimes by mistakes, how to make his presence as least threatening as possible. Not just in the Force, but in the flesh. Hands crossed behind the back, unless the eyes were watching the unseen hands, then at the side. Don't stand too close unless needed. Thankfully the Force helped him sense what anyone's definition of 'too close' was. Never make them feel cornered, or at fault, or anything similar.

"Do you have any idea what could have prompted this attack from Vader against the Black Sun?" Windu asked thoughtfully.

Xiaan shook her head slowly. "No, Master Windu."

The Force was a wonderful thing in many ways. It couldn't erase what this Padawan had experienced, but it could help soothe the wounds and know that she was surrounded by people who would never commit such an offense against her. It warned her of danger and there was no danger here. None like that at the very least.

"The Vigo, he...he talked a lot. Treated us like decorations, not caring what we heard," Xiaan explained hesitantly, careful of where her memories went. "He complained of dealing and inconveniences, but nothing that seemed important. Vader was never so much as mentioned. Except..."

"Except?" Mace asked with a raised eyebrow.

"He wondered how much Vader might pay for us, me and Master J'Mikel," Xiaan answered. "Vader didn't know we'd be there, so...I don't think he ever tried."

Windu hummed. He very much doubted Vader would attack the Black Sun just to rescue a pair of Jedi. "Vader's soldiers treated you and the others well?"

Xiaan nodded. "There was this captain. A woman. She was in charge of us. I know Vader is a Sith Lord and can be cruel, so...I'm not sure if he was being kind to our situation or just trying to plant seeds of doubt."

Mace Windu nodded in understanding. And approval. Being wary of Vader and the Sith was the only correct action for him. "You said there was another Dark Sider? A woman?"

"I think she was," Xiaan answered with a frown. "She felt of the Dark Side. But I saw no lightsaber. She also felt...strange, somehow. I can't place it, and my Master was too injured to decipher it."

Curious. Unsurprising though, he was sure Vader was recruiting all manner of Dark Siders across the galaxy. "And you heard no mention of anywhere they might be going or come from? Any sign of where the ships were constructed?"

Xiaan shook her head silently.

Windu didn't push her, expecting as much. "You said there was one who said she was staying with Vader? An...unusual Twi'lek?"

Xiaan nodded, looking up with a much clearer look. "I had never seen one like her before. Double Lekkus are rare, but I thought white Twi'leks were just a myth, or artificial, like body paint. But she was strong in the Force and she...knew Vader was coming. She said she dreamed of it. Before the attack, she kept saying; He is here, he is here."

A lie to cover up her involvement with Vader? Or a strong affinity for seeing the future? It was hard to be sure without meeting this one in person. "Thank you for your time, Padawan. I hope you recover well," Mace Windu thanked softly.

"Of course, Master Windu," Xiaan said, pausing. "Do you think it's...wrong, how Vader killed the Vigo?"

"If such justice must be delivered, I prefer it done swiftly," Mace Windu answered carefully, knowing what she was really asking. Was it wrong that she enjoyed watching him suffer? "But I can understand and appreciate why one might feel his fate was deserved."

Xiaan accepted that answer as well as she would any other, taking her leave from the room.

"What do you think of her?" Mace Windu asked, turning to face the other person in the room.

The Dark Woman hummed as she made herself visible. "She will recover, I believe. Jedi in her situation will always carry a bit of darkness, a bit of fear until they make peace and truly heal. Seeing the Vigo's death likely helped that to some extent."

Jedi should not take delight in the death and suffering of others, but despite trying to make themselves vessels of the Force, they were ultimately mortal and sapient. It was natural to feel some relief and joy in being rid of a danger, especially for a Padawan…especially in this situation.

"Vader has a hatred for slavery," The Dark Woman noted.

"We suspected that. The few events in Hutt Space you believed he was involved with normally didn't end well for the Hutts or Slavers," Mace Windu mused.

The Dark Woman sat and steepled her fingers. "J'Mikel had more details. This ship matches the description of the wreckage we found over that moon. And J'Mikel had the thought to observe the ship's exterior when able. He could see no notable damage. And the leaders of the Black Sun are not defenseless."

Windu lowered his gaze in thought. "Vader is becoming more active, bolder now."

"More open," The Dark Woman agreed warily. "I fear he may have all he feels necessary for any step he takes next."

They shared silent looks at that.

Vader's supposed super-ship, a city onto itself. Something that could single-handedly take almost any planet.

If it was real and Vader had regained it, he would be the greatest military power in the Republic. Even if he didn't have the numbers, he had the firepower.

And numbers might not be an advantage anyone had soon, with the state of the Republic.

"We could take this to the Chancellor," The Dark Woman said with a frown. "Make the galaxy see him as the warmonger in waiting that he is. It might help form a unity, having a common enemy."

"And unity in fear isn't reliable," Mace Windu said with a sigh. "And Vader already has a reputation that would be hard to sway. Many people see him as something almost mythic, coming and going wherever he deems important, bringing a bloody change he does. And the people are enamored with that on some level."

"Much like the Order itself now," The Dark Woman said sourly. "Vader's inaction against us and attempting to pit us as the aggressor in any future conflict has thrown many off, making some actually believe the Dark Side can coexist with the Light without trying to destroy it."

"An opinion even some Masters share," Windu remarked.

Even some on the council, it went unsaid.

"If a great schism were to occur, it would only allow those cast out to flock to Vader," The Dark Woman mused.

"Master Yoda is helping keep the peace between both sides, soothing raw nerves and heated heads where he can," Windu said with a sigh.

"...Master Yoda has seemed different since his last excursion," The Dark Woman said in observation.

Windu gave her a dubious look. "Don't tell me you suspect the Grandmaster-"

"By the Force, no," The Dark Woman said, almost amused he even suggested it. "But there is something different. And his attention is definitely not on Vader."

"That might be for the best," Windu said, placing his hands together in front of him, resting his chin on them. "Vader is my greatest concern for now, but he is far from the only one."

The Dark Woman could not deny that.

Meanwhile

Not all changes were positive.

Vader was sure many changes caused to this timeline were neutral at best. The Jedi would still fall, and the Galaxy would still burn in war. He just made it so that everyone was acting on their own desires and failings, not the manipulations of Sidious.

So he was unsurprised whenever he found a distinctly negative change in the timeline.

Carnelion IV.

It was a chilly planet, filled with cold mountains and seas of poisonous gas. The atmosphere was thick with debris and wreckage.

Navigating it expertly, he landed down in the ruins of a city. He emerged and took in the sight of a dead, decaying metropolis.

It died long ago, truly.

He remembered this planet well, even now.

A planet that had long ago descended into a civil war between two sides only going by The Open and The Closed. The only difference between the two was one side was composed of standard humans and the other faction were humanoids with three slits for ears on each side of their heads. Vader didn't know if the physical features were the origin of the infighting, no one bothered to remember what started the war, but he wouldn't be surprised.

The fighting had gone on for so long that the rest of the galaxy assumed them dead. They had fought each other for so long that not only had they ruined their environment, but also their technology began to degrade, reducing them to knives and slugthrowers. They had fought for so long that each society, each culture was only about the war, only about destroying each other.

He could sense some irony there, in hindsight.

Kenobi and he had come here in his early Padawan days, responding to a distress call. Through a long series of events, they caused a ceasefire by bringing in the Republic, forcing both sides to stop fighting and even consider the possibility of peace. He never knew if that peace lasted, or if they destroyed themselves in the end.

But in this timeline, no Jedi had picked up a distress beacon and came here. No one had forced the fighting to stop, even for a moment.

The Dark Side was potent here now. Generations of war, of dedicating lives to trying to eradicate the other side, no longer caring who was right or wrong anymore. To refuse any peace other than absolute victory.

Yes, the Dark Side prowled here in satisfaction of the feasts it had tasted here, could still taste the memory of them…generations fighting and devolving in their madness, self-feeding hatred for each other.

The Dark Side had fed well here for many generations, long before the Battle of Naboo.

Vader stopped his walking as his metal foot hit something. He reached down and lifted up the object.

A helmet.

A Stormtrooper helmet.

Damaged, and blood long dried on it.

"Drop it."

Vader felt the weapon pressed to his back. He had sensed the approach but allowed it.

Now it was just a matter of how long he humored this one.

"I don't think I will," Vader remarked easily, turning to face his so-called foe.

They tried to fire, they did, but the weapon refused to work.

To Vader's dark amusement, it was no machination of his own.

"Dammit, not now!" the "enemy" cursed at his malfunctioning weapon while looking up at him.

It was a child; Ten years, maybe less, holding some primitive firearm with a long barrel. He was covered in a thick patchwork of clothes, a large hat, and glaring up at the giant with defiance.

"You should be wary of who you threaten, child," Vader warned sternly. "Why did you want this?"

"Oh, like you don't know," the boy said in annoyance. There was a long silence as his face turned curious. "Wait, you don't? Are you an off-worlder? You with the White Helms?"

"I am from another world," Vader confirmed. "Why do you need this?"

"It might have something in it, like a radio or something. If you have something like that, you might be able to figure out how to find the White Helms. They got a big fort and everything somewhere," the child answered with youthful excitement.

"Are you alone?" Vader asked, already sensing the area for others.

"Yeah, why?" he asked warily, suddenly on guard again as he eyed Vader suspiciously.

Vader shifted his gaze minutely to be looking to the side.

The boy looked too and paled rapidly. There in the alley was a pack of red, fish-like humanoids with lanky bodies, sharp claws, and sharper fangs.

"Fishers," the boy realized in a small voice. "There's too many, we got to run and hide!"

"Take this," Vader instructed as he threw the helmet to the boy, before marching forth.

"Hey, what are you-" the boy paused as a red lightsaber sprung to life in Vader's hand, a crimson flow reflected in the young child's eyes. "Crazy?"

The mutated, monstrous humanoids rushed forward, roaring.

But those terrifying roars quickly turned to cries of terror. With what little sentience the fishers had left, they realized in sheer horror the monster they had picked a fight with.