Nar Shaddaa, Megan's Bar, Duros Sector, 31 BBY, two days after the Supreme Court Bombing
Spirits were running high amongst the pirates, smugglers and rogues that frequented Megan's Bar. A great cheer rose from the patrons as Viceroy Gunray and his entourage were turned into a fine green mist on the steps of the Supreme Court on Coruscant. The bartenders had been working overtime trying to handle all the orders that were coming their way, asking for what was affectionately called The Neimodian Special, a cocktail made specifically to honor the occasion.
"I am telling ya, this thing is going to make everybody in this place a helluva a lot richer than we ever expected to be, little man", said Captain Heleni Arweiler, one of the lekku twitching happily at the thought.
"How so?", Vader asked, his voice sounding heavy and mechanical as he spoke through the breathing mask that covered half his face. Leaning forward, he looked at the green-skinned Twi'lek smuggler with interest, eager to learn and understand. Vader had gone back to his old habits from Tatooine, ingratiating himself with the crowds of various cantinas in order to get a better feel about how the world worked. Back on his homeworld, he was a pest, an annoyance to most of the pilots that simply wanted to stretch their legs after a long flight, relax, have a drink in peace and then move on. Here on Nar Shaddaa, the story was quite different. Credits were the ultimate conversation starter and buying a few drinks for a crew or a Captain and inviting them over to his booth usually led to interesting conversations.
Captain Arweiler chuckled at his reaction before leaning forward herself. "Think about it. You can't go far without using a trade lane can you?", she said taking a sip from her drink. Vader shaked his head in the negative. "And the Trade Federation controls the trade lanes. At least those that matter. If you want to travel out there, you have to pay their fees, which are surely going to increase after the assassination. Mas Amedda shows no signs of easing the pressure on the Neimodians while the Interim Viceroy has vowed to increase tariffs on all traffic after the Republic's inability to protect them. And that means…", she said, pointing at herself with her thumb, "people like me are going to be in really high demand. People like Hondo over there", she continued, turning her thumb over to a boney Weequay pirate and his crew, "will also have a really good time. There are going to even less Judicials out here in the future when the Trade Federation's protectorates start denying them access which means that fewer people will be after them."
"So business will be…booming as they say", Vader said, using a phrase that he had heard before from another patron.
"Precisely, little man. Precisely", Captain Arweiler replied, nodding in the affirmative. Vader leaned back on his seat, content in his understanding on how this whole thing would play out. Did Sidious expect all this, I wonder?, he thought. The plans of his former Master were wide-reaching and large in scope with Anakin only having witnessed a sliver of them during their time together. As a true Sith, Sidious strove to teach him everything he knew but always little by little. He knew that he and Plagueis had a plan to control the Galaxy through the Republic, a part of which had been achieved during his brief tenure as Chancellor but there was a long gap between attaining that position and completely subverting the Republic. It was a convoluted and unimaginably large institution with lots of safeguards and redundancies that created a lot of institutional resistance to overcome. No, that couldn't be it. There has to be more. And all of it would be largely out of his hands to shape for the moment. He would be in no position to maneuver in that arena both due to his age and relative inexperience as well as the fact that for all intents and purposes, he was dead to the wider Galaxy. For now, all that he could do was keep working on himself.
"And here comes the next Supreme Chancellor", mused Captain Arweiler.
"Mhm?", Vader grunted absentmindedly.
"The girl. The Queen of Naboo", the Twi'lek replied matter-of-factly. "She's got everybody wrapped around her little finger after her latest display. She'll set her sights for the big chair when her time comes, I'd bet my ship on it."
Padme? Vader turned towards the HoloNet display and there she was in her long, black heavyset dress, golden thread details running through it in intricate patterns while her head was crowned by black feathers. Her face was covered in the white make-up that usually adorned the face of Naboo Royalty but Vader could locate every little detail that lay beneath it from when he had spent some time with her when she was masquerading as a handmaiden. It feels like a whole other century when it's merely been two months. Does she even care that I am dead?, he thought for a moment before returning his attention to the Twi'lek Captain.
"What display? How she defeat the Trade Federation?", he asked, genuinely curious. What more could she have done?
"Oh boy. She almost turned me into a believer"
Vader leaned forward once again to listen. Listen how she kept her composure in the face of a massive injustice, how the look that she gave to the Viceroy could kill, how dignified she was in the way she made her exit and about how the crowd rose in her defense. That's how the Angel of Naboo does things, he thought. My Angel... or she would have been. She was one of the casaulties of his escape, a necessary sacrifice of anonymity. Another pavement stone in the road to breaking his ch... What does that even mean?, he thought angrily, furrowing his brow. His mother had been an unnecessary attachment, he knew that. She had been a dangerous link to his old life. But should all links be cut off, abandoned? Padme could be useful to the Grand Plan, another concept that was nebulous in his mind even after all of his studies, all of the reading that he had done as he was trying to make sense of his mission.
"I am sorry, Captain", he told the Twi'Lek. "I am not feeling well. I must leave"
The sound of heavy rain welcomed Darth Vader to the streets of the Duros Sector. Nar Shaddaa's weather was calibrated by a similar satellite work to that of Coruscant, a necessity when it came to planets that were exclusively covered by a city. The Duros Sector was one of the rainiest spots on the Smuggler's moon. The Hutts, who frequented the Promenade and the more affluent areas disliked rain which meant that like the slime of a sewer, rain trickled down to the poorer areas. A world made by them and for them, completely under their control, he thought. Vader absolutely hated the Hutts with the fury of a thousand suns but he couldn't help but admire their power and strength.
Vader looked upwards towards the sky before he brought the hood of his cape over his head and moved into the dimly lit streets towards the taxi stand that he used when he came here. He walked, a stranger amongst strangers, through the busy streets of the sector populated by a variety of species. The Duros might be the most numerous beings in this sector but they were joined by Humans, Twi'leks and a number of other species like Pantorans, Nikto and Evocai, the slaves of the Hutt Clans who were the original inhabitants of the brown orb that hung on the sky, the planet that was called Nal Hutta.
Just as he was about to reach the Taxi Stand, Vader felt a vague whisper of the Force. Danger, it whispered to him. Danger. He casually looked to his left and right before he stopped at a street vendor that sold a thick broth that was considered a delicacy amongst the area's denizens. He feigned interest in it before he looked towards the place that he was coming from.
Nothing. But there has to be something. The Force didn't give warnings without reason. As seconds passed by and ticked away, Vader weighed his options. Should he return to his apartment, endangering his base of operations and bringing the attackers home and attention on himself or should he perhaps deal with them here? He worked the problem for three more seconds before he decided. Vader pushed a button on the small communicator device on his left wrist, letting 11-4D know of his location and that it should come armed. There was little chance that the droid would come in time for the actual fight but it should be there to have a chance to save him from any wounds that he might suffer.
And then, he walked back towards the Duros Sector. Back towards the enemy.
Vader took a winding path through backstreets and side alleys, walking casually in order to conserve his strength and stamina for the coming fight. As he passed through the by now familiar streets of Nar Shaddaa, Vader kept a weary eye out for his pursuers. To his disappointment, he could see or hear nobody. The rain wasn't in his favor, covering the footsteps of whomever stalked him while they were skilled enough to stay out of sight. The Force was his only recourse but the only thing that it told him was that he was still in danger.
I can only force their hand, he thought. Vader remembered that there was a dead end close by and made his way towards it.
The first figure appeared at the far side of the dead end, as soon as he had taken a few steps in it. She was a tall, pale, long legged woman clad in a red bodysuit. Her head was covered by a hood while her features were obscured by a dark face mask. She stood there in silence, unmoving and unconcerned with his approach.
What is…? Oh…, he thought as he recognized the clothes from one of the sketches in the Book of Sith. Nightsisters. Someone had probably spoken to them, let them know that there was a person looking to sell a Talisman of theirs. A snitch.
Fear nudged at his heart at the moment of realization. Am I ready? Can I face h… them? THEM, he corrected himself as he could finally feel two more Nightsisters behind him, blocking his escape. His breathing quickened as the noose seemed to tighten around him but Vader kept moving towards the Nightsister in front of him.
"That's close enough", the Nightsister warned in heavily accented Basic. Vader pressed on, unimpeded. If they hadn't shot at him yet, they clearly didn't consider him a threat. A deadly mistake. A very deadly mistake.
"I said that's enough", she shouted. Vader complied this time as he heard the sizzling of plasma from the weapons of the sisters, a pair of anachronistic bows. He smiled beneath his mask as he made a mental note of their positions.
"Easy, ma'am. I'll pay whatever you want", he said, playing the act of a coy boy.
"We know that you have the Talisman, boy", the Nightsister said with durasteel in her voice seeking to intimidate him. "Give it to us and there'll be no trouble"
"I have no such Talis…"
"Enough with the lies", she shouted as her eyes turned green. Instead of having the effect that she expected, Vader's last remnants of fear evaporated. It was replaced with pure, unadulterated anger. A Sith Lord can only take so much.
"Do your parlor tricks work on anyone, Witch?", he simply replied, the mechanical sound of his voice hiding the edge that dripped from his words.
"Wh…", the Nightsister began saying before she flew away. Vader pushed her through the Force, putting all his strength behind the Push. The Nightsister crashed into the wall behind her with a sickening sound as blood painted the surface red. To their credit, her cohorts reacted quickly firing off two bolts in his back. What they didn't expect was the armorweave of his cloak. Plasma arrows pushed him forward slightly but Vader found his balance quickly, willing the lightsaber that hanged on his belt to his hand. He ignited the weapon, the blood red plasma beam lighting up the alleyway as miniscule clouds of steam came from it where the rain drops hit. He turned around to face them holding his lightsaber upside down, the beam pointed backwards, the best stance to deflect any incoming bolts.
"Do you wish to dance with me, ladies?", he said as he calmly walked towards them mocking them as he did all his enemies. "My Master had me attend dancing lessons. I'll have you know that I am quite the dancer", he continued his mocking of the sisters. They looked at each other for a moment before they fired their bows again while backtracking. He deflected their bolts easily and kept advancing forward. Another sister fell as a deflected bolt hit her squarely in the head, mangling her features, a red mist filling the air where she stood.
And then there was one. Her fear was exceedingly sweat as he breathed it in, using it to fuel him and push him forward. After she hurled a few more bolts towards his way, the Nightsister decided that she didn't want to die on a forsaken alley on Nar Shaddaa. She tried jumping towards one of the railings one the wall until she stopped midair.
"Come on, Nightsister. Just a little bit closer. This should be easy for you, this is hardly Dathomir", Vader kept mocking her as he held her within his invisible grasp. He decided to give her a small drop of hope, pushing her through the Force ever so slightly towards the railing. He could feel hope blossoming within her, the false belief that she could make it. It made it all the better when he snuffed it out, pulling her down. He threw her to the ground in such a way that she broke one of her legs, making escape impossible.
Others might have accepted their fate at this point. The Witch though refused to go without a fight, arming her bow in the hope of getting a shot at him. Admirable. So admirable, he thought while deflecting the last few bolts. As soon as he was close enough, he cut her bow with swing of his lightsaber before bringing its point a hair's length away from her face.
"End it, Sith", she told him, spitting at his blade. "Come on, you don't believe in mercy."
"And you do, Dathomirian?", Vader replied, tilting his head to the right questioningly. "Of course, you don't. But you…oh you don't want to suffer at my hands. Remember, I can see your thoughts, Witch. I am the inheritor of a legacy that stretches back to Conquerors, Emperors and Kings. You come from rogue Jedi and hedge wizards. You would do well to remember the difference."
The Nightsister remained unimpressed and defiant, lifting her head upwards. Vader took that opportunity to push his lightsaber closer to her throat. "Now… we shall wait for my droid. Quietly. And I'll show you some good old Sith hospitality."
Author's Notes:
-A timely reminder for Vader that there are other Forces at play around him. He is not the only one hiding in the shadows.
-The Witches will play their role in this story and I thought I should make their first contact interesting and engaging.
-I also wanted to show that he's confused about his future role. He's trying to find his way with what little information on the Force and the Galaxy that he has. That's why he has started moving around pilots and smugglers. When he was on Tatooine that was his only window to the outside world. As I've pointed out before, he is copying Sidious' words and mannerisms quite a lot because that's really the only archetype that he has to follow. He is prone to repeating the Sith ideals and goals because he is trained to do so, sometimes without real understanding though. That is what I enjoy the most in this fanfiction, portraying a journey of discovery, a VERY dark coming of age story.
-As always, I appreciate any feedback that you have for me, even just dropping a comment to say that you like stuff.
-Till we meet again.