Chapter 59

"Lord Vader, surely this is some manner of joke!"

"Do you take me for one to jest, Captain Almurn?" Vader countered coldly with his arms crossed.

"What else am I supposed to make of this? Time travel, really?" the middle-aged human said with a scoff. "I have not been scavenging together what I can on this backwater world just to hear this mad driv-GAH!"

The Captain ceased his prattling as Vader held a hand forth in a grasping motion. The Stormtroopers almost reacted, moving forward half a step before stopping. They had not seen him or experienced his ire in years.

Still, they made no movement to stop him.

"Lord Vader?"

Vader turned his attention to the General, a dark-skinned woman who looked to be in her mid-twenties. Seven years ago, when this group appeared in this timeline, she would have been barely old enough to be in the military at all.

"Yes, General Rulls?" he acknowledged, still choking the Captain.

"I request that you not kill him. He's, shall we say, the face of the "Whitehelms" to the natives," Rulls requested, trying to hide how her hand shook in fear of him. She failed, but it was an admirable effort.

Vader kept his grip a second longer before releasing it, letting the Captain gasp for breath.

"Do you think I would tell you something so outlandish if it were not true, Captain?" Vader asked pointedly. "Do you believe I value my own time so little?"

Almurn gritted his teeth but answered. "No, Lord Vader, no I do not," he accepted reluctantly. "Be that as it may, if what you say is true, you implied that a great many things have changed already?"

"Indeed. The Galaxy is set to fall into chaos and war soon, five years before the Clone Wars would begin. Yet there is no Separatist movement. The Republic is simply falling apart, with every system expecting they might soon be left to fend for themselves," Vader summarized concisely. This wasn't the first time he had to do so, he wasn't sure which would be the last.

"And the Emperor?" Rulls questioned pointedly.

"Palpatine is dead," Vader informed bluntly, waiting as they paled.

"Then the Empire might very well be dead before it was born," Almurn said gravely.

"I have hardly been idly these years," Vader countered firmly.

"Be that as it may, Lord Vader..." Almurn said with a troubled look. "I am beginning to think we were better off not knowing. Simply trying to salvage this world as best we could."

"I agree," Rulls said softly, glaring at Vader. "I joined to serve the Empire, not you."

"Choose your next words very carefully," Vader warned without hesitation. "They may very well be your last."

"Lord Vader! I have not survived seven years on this poisonous, mutated rock for you to threaten us and everything we have struggled to build!" Almurn snapped, ignoring the pain in his throat. "If what you say is true, if this is the past and the Emperor is dead? Then we have no reasons to answer to you, or to give you our allegiance!"

"So you say," Vader said coolly, glancing over his shoulder. "But what do your soldiers say? The ones that truly struggled on your behalf?"

The six Stormtroopers shared a look in silence before the commander stepped forward. "Lord Vader, we agree with the general and the captain," he said, getting relief, maybe even smugness from his superiors. "But I have no desire to cause some kind of mini-war between us."

"Commander!" Rulls called out in outrage and dismay.

"If the galaxy is a tinderbox, Ma'am, then we will be most vulnerable if anyone else stumbles upon this planet. Worse, our hold here is more slippery than many would like. Outside aid is the only thing that will prevent the situation from dissolving long-term. We are struggling just to keep ourselves supplied and our equipment from degrading," the commander informed factually.

"I am sometimes amazed at the wisdom found in soldiers beneath foolish leaders," Vader mused, letting Rulls and Almurn seethe, "He is correct. A war between us is a determent I do not need. Commander?"

"Yes, Lord Vader?" The trooper acknowledged, standing a bit straighter.

"Take your leave for now, and spread what I have told you to the other ranked troopers. I shall finish this... discussion with the captain and the general," Vader instructed chillingly.

"Yes, Sir," the commander said before leaving, turning to go, the other Stormtroopers remaining.

Vader allowed Rulls and Almurn to simmer in their anger and the hateful flakes of their indignity. "I believe I have a compromise that will appease you," Vader offered in a neutral tone. It was clear he was doing so only because it was somewhat more convenient not to kill them.

"We're listening," Almurn said bitterly.

"A destroyer will arrive here soon after I depart. They will deliver and aid you in setting up proper communications with the rest of the galaxy. So that you may see for yourself what I said is true," Vader informed. "After which, you will be left to your own devices. You are expected to do as you have been. What aid you require, we will give what can be spared."

So long as they didn't step out of line. So long as they didn't give him a reason to kill him.

The two shared a look before facing him. "Very well, Lord Vader, we accept," Rulls answered in resignation.

He was almost disappointed by that answer.

But the day was still young.

Meanwhile

Anakin was often amazed at how Qui-Gon managed to navigate and pull information without people noticing, and only with minimal use of the Force. He could definitely see Count Dooku had either rubbed off on him in some ways, or Qui-Gon's old master had purposefully instilled such skills…probably both.

What had started as an inspection of the shipment of Alberries had quickly led them onto an adventure through the small, compact town near the facilities. No matter how skilled a droid was, some crops had to be collected or tended to by hand to some degree. So there was no shortage of work for people living near multiple crop facilities.

Yet everywhere they went, Anakin could feel the Dark Side.

It was not an overwhelming thing, it was mockingly the opposite.

Mockingly being the keyword.

Like some sinister game of Hotter-Colder, the Dark Side growing bored when they got further away, but disturbingly delighted as they grew closer. Did that mean the Sith or other Dark Siders were involved?

No. In the past five years, Anakin had seen many examples of the Dark Side lurking where volatile emotions and nefarious intents abounded, regardless of whether anyone involved was strong with the Force.

The Force connected everything and everyone, but everything of importance that happened wasn't connected to those who could use the Force.

They reached the front door of a small dwelling. It reminded Anakin a lot of his house on Tatooine, but made of metal and somehow even less inviting in some ways; Akin to some of the seedier dwellings to rent in the underbelly of Coruscant.

After a few bangs on the door, it was answered by a rather unamused woman who appeared human. "Who are you and what the hell do you want?" she asked in annoyance.

"We're here on a diplomatic mission from the Albingi," Qui-Gon answered tonelessly. "We were told you might have some experience delivering there."

"Albingi? You don't look the type," she said with a mighty yawn. "Yeah, I made a delivery there. Why, they need another run?"

Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes and Anakin tilted his head. The Padawan cautiously took the chance to ask a question. "You know about the plague there, right?"

"Of course I know, that's why they sent me there," she answered with a frown. "Why, did something go wrong?"

"Perhaps we should take this inside," Qui-Gon suggested.

She looked hesitant, glancing at Anakin, but blinked as she caught sight of the lightsaber at his belt. "Oh, you're Jedi. Shit, why didn't you say so?" she said, waving them inside.

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow at that. "You're a fan of Jedi, Miss...?"

"Just call me Ulli," she answered, closing the door after they entered. "And if some stranger in a cloak wants to "talk" inside my home, I'm suspicious of their intetn. But dogs of the republic or not, I trust a Jedi more than I do police in half the systems I've been to."

Anakin sympathized with that on some level. Sad as that statement was, corrupt order was sometimes the only kind that existed on the fringes of civilization.

"Now, what's this about? I was told the Alberry thing got cleaned up after I delivered the vaccine?" Ulli asked in bewilderment.

"Vaccine?" Anakin asked in surprise.

"Perhaps you should start from the beginning," Qui-Gon said in a soft, wary voice.

Ulli blinked. "Oh shit. Shit! Look, whatever else happened, I was told I was delivering something to help cure a plague, not start one!" she said firmly.

"We believe you," Anakin reassured her slowly, "But you may have been lied to, or someone is hiding whatever you delivered."

Ulli rubbed her head in dismay. "Fuck. Look, I got contacted by an Albingi official. I'm not some newb at this, I checked his data and everything, he was legit. He said that they had a private farm here for doing biological experiments. Pesticides, fertilizers, genetic enhancement, and stuff like that! He had a job for me, to collect a container filled with some chemical that was supposed to cure this Alberry blight."

"Did you meet anyone in person? Someone to give the container to you, or someone for you to deliver it to?" Qui-Gon asked pointedly.

"What, you think I'm an idiot? Of course, I did! It would have been far too sketchy otherwise. I went to this small facility, a good distance from here? Never been there before, but an Albingi handed it off to me and told me to keep it safe and protected. They gave me coordinates in the countryside of the planet to deliver it to someone."

"Did that seem weird?" Anakin asked, more curious than accusing.

"Not really at the time, no?" Ulli answered as she took a breath. "It fit with what they said, the plague was contained in a remote area, so they wanted it delivered close by."

"And you were paid? And they contacted you, saying the crisis was over?" Qui-Gon asked curiously.

"It wasn't a crisis at the time! Just a concern to nip in the bud! But yes, they paid me and later got in contact with me, thanking me for my assistance," Ulli answered with a shrug. "Look, the galaxy is rather hectic these days, I don't look at the holonews that deeply or it just gets depressing. I know people in this sector have a thing for the berries, but the planet itself is rarely on anyone's radar."

Anakin and Qui-Gon shared a look at that. It felt all rather genuine. The alarm and worry that she was in trouble, along with a gnawing dread that she might be responsible for a planetary tragedy.

"How...how bad is it?" she asked morbidly, a hint of guilt in her tone.

"A third of the planet has the blight. They're trying to keep it contained," Qui-Gon explained calmly.

"Shit. Is..is it possible it just didn't work, the cure I mean?" Ulli asked, trying to make sense of this herself.

"That might be possible, but the Albingi government seems to have no knowledge of this deal," Qui-Gon explained.

Ulli looked very confused at that. "Was I...was I scammed into delivering a plague? Please tell me I wasn't?"

Anakin wished they could, but with the Dark Side relishing Ulli's dread, he truly wasn't sure.

Meanwhile

Vader was disappointed and impressed.

He was disappointed that the Captain and the General tried to have him killed.

He was, however, very impressed by the speed and efficiency of the trap they formed, especially after just "accepting" his terms.

Already, he could sense the traitorous intents of those maneuvering around the corridors of the Star Destroyer.

More, he could feel the dissenters being silenced. Permanently.

So much for avoiding a civil war, however minor.

He turned a corner.

"Blast him!"

A line of troopers was waiting for him at the other end of this hall, along with a machine blaster mounted lower to the ground.

They hoped to take him by surprise.

They had failed.

His lightsaber had ignited before the order had even begun, deflecting all the attacks he couldn't subtly avoid. The machine blaster only lasted for a few seconds before Vader clenched his free hand.

The soldier manning the mounted weapon suddenly screamed in agony as his hands were crusted against the handles, the trigger still forced down.

With a twist of the wrist, Vader spun the weapon around, the soldier forced to still hold the trigger even as the hail of attacks was turned upon his own allies. Someone shot the apparent traitor, but Vader did not allow the corpse to let go of the weapon.

The small force was cut down, the survivors ducking for cover wherever they could. Corridors, rooms, and even bodies of the newly dead were used as shields.

Only then did Vader allow the weapon's fire rate to slow to a stop.

"I see you have chosen your path poorly. Captain, General," Vader said, looking up towards a hall camera, sensing they were watching. "How many lives are you willing to waste to save your own?"

To emphasize his point, he slashed his saber to destroy the device.

With his point made he began to his march down the hallway. He killed several survivors with the barest of attention; Using the Force to snap necks and fatally cutting those close by. A few were spared by virtue of being too afraid to continue their attack and not worth Vader's immediate attention.

He rounded a corner and reached out to stop an officer running towards him with a drawn pistol. The man stopped, feeling the Force on his neck keeping him in place.

"Your side! Lord Vader! Your Side!" the man croaked out.

Vader tilted his head in consideration but released his hold. "We meet again, Commander Marwell."

The man nodded, rubbing his throat. "The Captain ordered me to detain the trooper commander in charge of security. He told us the General and Captain were trying to assassinate you."

"And you believed him at his word?" Vader asked skeptically, wondering if this wasn't some strange ploy for a trap.

"Of course not. I believed him when the General and Captain directed their most trusted troopers to deal with an "unknown" enemy that had somehow gotten in here," Marwell answered professionally.

Brave, good survival instincts, and above-average situational awareness. Vader made a note to keep this one alive if at all possible. "And why are you here, Commander, and alone? Did you believe I would be killed so easily?"

"Oh, no, I came to ask that you not kill my men outside, " he explained bluntly. "As for alone? The rest of my men are securing the controls to the Anti-Air defenses. I assumed they would try to attack your ship when you made it out alive. And I'd rather not lose those turrets in this madness."

Definitely, definitely keeping this one alive.

"Very well, Commander. Your aid is appreciated," Vader remarked with a nod. "Continue to deal with the traitors, I will deal with their leaders personally."

"Yes, My Lord!" Marwell said before cautiously running off to return to his troops.

Vader turned and headed the opposite way, letting the Force guide him as he hunted for the pair of so-called leaders. It was a shame really, he had avoided killing imperials as a punishment during the past few years. They weren't easily replaced, after all. But it seemed he would need to remind these fools just who he was before he killed them.

Or, that had been the plan.

Something strange happened.

Whatever it was, it amused the Dark Side, which made Vader just a touch more considerate of the situation.

He heard the rapid pace of Stormtroopers racing across a hall. He rounded a corner and saw another squad down the hall.

They came to a halt at the sight of him, terror rippling off them in waves.

"He's over there?!"

"How did he move that fast!?"

"Doesn't matter! Run!"

Vader watched the scene as they ran down another hall in fear of him. Not unusual, but something felt off about this. He approached and glanced at them running away. They kept running withotu looking back.

Now, just what had caused that panic in them? Were they just afraid of his approach?

He decided to ignore them, for now, and head down where they had been originally fleeing from.

He found himself stopping at a door and could sense several deaths beyond it.

The door slid open and Vader was treated to the sight of someone running behind the desk of some type of personal study room. Around the desk were three dead bodies.

The General, The Captain, and the legs of a trooper stuck out from behind the desk.

"Do you wish to die, fools?!"

Vader paused at the voice. It was modified, deep, and...seemed like a poor imitation of his own, possibly?

"Do you think you are a match for I, Lord Vader, after I have butchered your leaders!? Begone you pissant roaches!"

Vader flicked his finger and used the Force to push the desks aside in an instant.

Farmile blinked as he looked at the Sith Lord, holding a blaster pistol and some device connected to a Stormtrooper's helmet, the dead one's no doubt.

"Oh. It's you," Farmile realized, awkward but relieved. "So, um, I think I killed the leaders of the Whitehelms. We might need to escape?"

"So you have," Vader acknowledged, trying to hide how perplexed he was. "Why?"

"They had me brought to them. They thought I was valuable to you for some reason? Like, having me would stop you from killing them? They're very scared of you here, you know that?" Farmile asked distractedly, still holdinghte blaster while leaning on the helmet.

"Not nearly enough, as you can see," Vader said, nodding to the bodies. "You realized your life was of little value as a hostage, so you killed them by surprise. Knowing their guards were outside, you modified the helmet to project a voice akin to my own as a terror tactic."

"...Yeah, yeah, I guess that's what I did?" Farmile agreed, scratching his chin.

This boy was far too accustomed to the dead bodies around him, Vader noted, especially for his age.

"A question. How often have you done something like this?" Vader asked curiously.

"Well, I normally just use something to make scary loud noises or roaring sounds, but...four? I want to say this is the fourth time," Farmile answered calmly. "How much trouble am I in?"

"None," Vader answered as he stepped into the room. Farmile tensed as Vader ignited his lightsaber, using it to stab the corpses through their blaster wounds. "If any inquire about this, I killed these fools."

"Oh. Okay?" Farmile said, not sure why Vader was taking credit but also not willing to despute it. "So, were you planning to kill people when you came here or...?"

"Even when I have no intentions of killing anyone on whatever venture I am on, I always assume I will find someone or something that will meet their end on my blade," Vader answered honestly.

Farmile actually nodded at that. "Yeah, I lived like that for a few months once. People can be terrible sometimes."

Vader hummed. This child was either destined for greatness or to be a very dangerous killer one day…possibly both.

Likely both, given the state of the galaxy.