Author's Note: Just a heads up for anyone reading... This chapter is a heavy one. There is mention of canon-typical violence/deaths, and canon-compliant deaths.
Chapter Seven
Three days.
That was how long the Devastator remained stationed above Alderaan before Palpatine ordered Vader and the 501st Legion to Lothal.
There had been a well-coordinated attack on the Imperial base a few weeks earlier, and the Emperor wanted to know the extent of the destruction. He wanted to know the identity of the people responsible.
"The Devastator was travelling to Lothal to join the battle when you dropped in, young one," Vader informed Rey as she munched on her latemeal—a large ration bar and a mug of steaming hot tea.
It was delicious.
Swallowing her food, Rey frowned. "Is he upset that you weren't there?"
Vader shook his head. "No. The disturbance in the Force took precedence." There was a slight hesitation to his tone. "Insisting that I view the damage to the base in person, however, is suspicious. He is ensuring that I will not be above Alderaan. Most of the Death Squadron has been ordered to return to the assignments they had prior to your arrival. The Stalker and Tyrant, previously engaged in the battle on Lothal, have been given missions elsewhere."
"His orders, or yours?"
Vader gave Rey an awkward shrug of his shoulders. "Mine. It would be peculiar if I insisted for the other Destroyers to remain above those worlds. I have no true reason for them to remain there. Merely suspicion."
"Will the Emperor arrange for other Destroyers to take their places?" Rey asked. "You were worried about that earlier when we were determining where to send the rest of the squadron."
"I do not know for certain," Vader admitted. "Perhaps Sidious will move directly to hiring a bounty hunter to track down my son."
"Perhaps he'll do both," Rey suggested quietly.
"Most likely," the Sith Lord conceded.
There was a comfortable silence as Rey continued to munch on her food, broken only by the rhythmic hiss and release of Vader's respirator. Once she finished her ration bar, Rey clasped the mug of hot tea in her hands and offered her Master a small smile. "I think tea is my favourite drink," she informed him before taking a sip from her mug.
She felt a gentle wave of amusement press against her mental shield at her words.
"Tea comes in plenty of flavours, young one," Vader informed her. "Some of which are better than others. I believe the Imperial Navy only carries a Corellian blend."
"I guess Corellian blend tea is my favourite then," Rey stated. She brushed a hand down the length of her warm tunic, revelling in the high quality feeling of her new clothing. "And thank you again for the clothes and stuff." She paused. "If there's any way I can repay you, consider it done."
"That is a dangerous offer to make, Rey," Vader warned her. "As I said before, your clothing is a gift. There is no requirement for you to pay me back."
Rey nodded, but remained silent. It felt strange to accept such a thing. On Jakku, nothing was given for free. Ever.
Seeming to understand her plight, Vader continued. "If it is difficult to accept as a gift, then consider the clothing as payment for informing me of my children." He paused to allow his respirator to cycle. "Admittedly however, I did not pay for your new items. Sergeant Fixer obtained the credits from Wermis' account. The captain will never notice. He hasn't before."
Raising a brow in question, Rey asked, "Does Sergeant Fixer regularly slice into the captain's account?"
Vader tilted his head to the side, as if pondering whether he'd answer the question. "He calls it skir'ika, or 'little revenge'." He paused. "The sergeant, and the rest of my remaining clone troopers, have taken to making Wermis' life miserable. They are justified, however, in their disdain for the man. If they chose to prolong their vengeance against him, then that is their choice."
"What'd he do?"
Vader shook his head. "That is not for me to say, young one. It is between the clone troopers and Captain Wermis." He gestured to her mug of tea. "Drink up. Given that we are now travelling through Hyperspace away from the Core Worlds, it is safer for you to take up meditation." He paused. "It might even help with your anger."
"Really?" Rey asked before gulping down her tea.
"So I have been told." Vader took the empty mug from her and placed it on the flat surface of the mouse droid that had delivered it earlier.
Rey could've sworn that the little droid was trembling in fear. "You've scared him," she chastised lightly.
Vader peered down at the droid who violently shook at the Sith Lord's attention. "It has nothing to fear if it does its job as required." He waved the droid away. "I expect the same beverage tomorrow at the same time."
There was a quiet confirming chirp from the droid before it zoomed out of the private quarters.
Rey watched in amusement as Vader seemed to stare after it for a few moments.
"Meditation is a necessity amongst all Force-sensitives," the Sith Lord intoned. He gestured for Rey to follow him into the meditation chamber that she'd made into her own.
"Of course," Rey murmured as they settled beside one another on one of the wooden benches that surrounded the fountain.
Vader reached out and grasped Rey's left hand. "If we maintain contact, Sidious will have no way of learning of your existence, Padawan." He paused. "Is that understood?"
Rey nodded.
"Take slow, deep breaths and attempt to clear your mind as much as possible." Vader paused, allowing his respirator to cycle. "It may take quite some time for you to enter into the realm of meditation, young one. Do not let it dissuade you. Patience is key to becoming a Jedi."
...
...
"Where are we, young one?" The deep resonance of Vader's vocoder on her left broke the peaceful silence, as did the gentle squeeze of her hand grounding her in the meditation.
Blinking open her eyes to the brightness of two suns hanging high in the sky, Rey slowly took in her surroundings.
For as long as she could remember—or, at least until she'd found Luke—this was a place found only in her dreams. And only if she were tired enough after a long day of scavenging or feeling exceptionally lonely living as she did in her secluded Imperial Walker.
She was seated cross-legged on a thick stone ledge that overlooked a rocky island with thick tufts of grass. Metres below where she sat, waves crashed violently against the rocky shores. To her right, and some distance down a pebbled path, a grouping of stone huts littered the landscape.
Endless oceans and green grasses. Life and death. Balance and peace.
Ahch-To.
"Rey?" Vader's vocoder took on a slightly softer tone. "Where are we?"
Rey found that she had to consciously open her mouth to answer. "It's the first Jedi Temple," she whispered, unwilling to disturb the peace. Her throat felt thick with sleep. "I found Luke here before I… before I travelled back to you, Master."
"You stated that you had only been at the temple for a single day, young one," Vader reminded her. "How is it so familiar to you?"
Slowly lifting her head to peer up at her Master standing beside her, Rey answered, "I've dreamt of this place before."
"The first Jedi Temple?"
Rey nodded.
"Often?" Vader asked. "Or are these dreams a more recent development? Perhaps showing where you could find Luke?"
"No." Rey shook her head. "I've always dreamt of this place. For as long as I can remember. I just didn't realise that it was real until I found Luke." She blinked, and slowly stood up from her perch on the stone ledge. "When I found him, there were creatures all around. Birds and fish… caretakers looking after the island. In my dreams I was always alone."
Her legs wobbled as she stepped off of the stone ledge, and once she was on firm ground she thanked Vader for keeping her upright.
"I didn't know that it was Jedi when I was small," Rey admitted quietly. "I just thought it was my imagination or something. A pretend place from a story that my parents had read to me."
Vader continued to hold Rey's hand and seemed to work through all she had shared. "Did your parents tell you stories of Jedi Temples, young one?"
Once again Rey shook her head. "I don't think so." She frowned. "I barely remember them. Just bits and pieces. Certainly no bedtime stories."
"Tell me about them. Tell me what you can remember."
Rey tried to take a step back from her Master, but found that his grip on her was too great. That, and she was much too tired. "Why?"
Vader squeezed her hand reassuringly. "It is sometimes easier to work through what is troubling you during meditation. Our memories can become simpler, or clearer if we are lucky." He paused, allowing his respirator to cycle. "Because this is a paired meditation, you are able to work through these memories with me… if you wish."
Rey tilted her head to the side. "And it's supposed to help with my anger?"
"It can."
Rey nodded her acceptance and began to slowly stroll along the pebbled path, in the opposite direction from the cluster of stone huts.
She didn't speak again until she reached the opening built into the stone. "I remember this from my dreams. I would play inside, or sometimes just sleep." She peered back at her Master. "It was one of the few places I felt safe."
She hesitated, uncertain if she should enter into the strange temple. "When I found Luke… when I saw this temple in real life, the inside was different."
"In what way?"
Rey frowned as she stepped through the entrance, Vader following closely behind and tugging gently on her hand as he manoeuvred his large frame through the narrow opening. "The floor. In my dreams, the floor was always empty." A warm beam of sunlight pointed to the centre of the temple, to the difference from her dreams. "When I came in here after I'd found Luke, it had this. I think it's the first Jedi." She came to a stop at the edge of the mosaic figure embedded in the floor.
Vader was silent as he stared down at the ancient Jedi mosaic, but Rey could feel his astonishment at what he saw.
"Both light and dark," Rey murmured, knowing that her Master was listening. "Balance."
She lifted her hand and pointed to the figure. "I think the first Jedi has a yellow lightsaber. Although I don't know if that means anything."
"Balance… or protection." Vader shifted slightly, bending over to take a closer look at the detail within the mosaic. "Yellow is the colour of the temple guards."
Rey remained silent as her Master slowly circled around the figure, tugging her along as he did so. Careful to keep a point of contact with her at all times.
Eventually the Sith Lord halted his inspection and focused completely on Rey. "Tell me what you know of your parents, young one. Even the smallest of details that you can remember." He jabbed a finger at her. "This is your meditation, not mine."
Sighing softly at the gentle chastisement, Rey took a moment to work through her barren memories. "My mother was cold." Her gaze drifted up to the eye pieces of Vader's mask. "My father, warm."
"What else?"
Rey swallowed. "My father would wrap me up in a blanket to keep me warm. I remember it being all scratchy against my skin" —she gestured to her cheeks— "against my face." She closed her eyes and tried to recall as much detail as she could. "At night I'd sit in his lap, all bundled up, while he spoke to me," she murmured. "The tops of his thighs were hard against my bum. It used to make him smile, sometimes even laugh, when I'd whine about it."
"What did he speak to you about?" Vader asked after she was silent for a few moments.
"I don't know. It was… they were words that I didn't understand." Rey hesitated. "He was lonely." She peered up at Vader. "I don't know how I know that… but I do."
"Do you remember what he looked like?" her Master asked. "Him or your mother?"
Once again Rey shook her head. "No." She hesitated, biting her bottom lip in concentration. "I think… I might remember a scar." She rubbed her fingers together, recalling a forgotten memory of her trailing the pads of her fingers along raised flesh. "I think it was on his face, over his eye." No, that wasn't quite right. "Around his eye, maybe. Along his temple." She sighed. "My mum… I don't know… I think she was pale like me."
"How did they make you feel in the Force?"
Rey frowned. "I don't understand what you're asking. I didn't even know that I was Force-sensitive until a few weeks ago. I've told you this already, Master."
Vader held up a hand, placating her. "You have always been Force-sensitive, Rey, even when you did not know it." He paused to allow his respirator to cycle. "With this ability, you would have known if someone was trustworthy or not. You would have felt if someone was safe to be around, or if they were dangerous."
An uncomfortable weight settled in Rey's gut.
"My mother," she whispered. "She… my stomach would feel bad when I was around her." She peered up at Vader's mask, desperate for him to make sense of her feelings. "My papa—my father, I mean—he wouldn't let me be alone with her."
"You mentioned that she felt cold."
The Sith Lord's realisation hummed strongly around the temple—around Rey—but she couldn't make sense of it. She didn't understand what conclusion her Master had reached.
Rey swallowed her unease. "Yes, that's correct. And my father was the opposite. With him I felt safe." She paused. "With him I felt protected."
...
...
"Have your stormtroopers determined the identity of the assailants?" Vader questioned as he followed the injured Governor Pryce off of the landing platform and into the severely damaged Imperial Planetary Occupation Facility on Lothal.
He knew from the obvious limp and tremor in her hands that the governor was in a great deal of pain and favouring her right side. The Devastator's sudden arrival above the planet likely cut her time short in the facility's bacta tank—assuming the tank was still functional.
A spike of annoyance in the Force preceded the governor's curt response. "My remaining troopers are more focused on defending the Dome against the local scum attempting to overthrow it." There was a tense silence as Pryce seemed to realise just whom she was speaking with. She hastily continued, "They did, however, take the time to group the dead together in the medical centre and lowered the room's temperature, as per Emperor Palpatine's orders. We are grateful for your arrival and that of the legendary Five-Oh-First, Lord Vader."
The Sith Lord couldn't help but smirk at her comment. However, the Emperor's orders were clear: he wanted to know the extent of the damage to the base and the identity of the Rebels responsible. He had told his apprentice to deal with the governor as he saw fit.
There had been no mention of providing aid to the local garrison.
If the facility was about to be overrun by angry locals, Vader's own soldiers wouldn't be caught in the crossfire.
He signalled to his commander, and TK-9091 hurried ahead of the group of stormtroopers bringing up the rear in order to walk beside him. "Be alert," Vader warned. "We are entering a live combat area in a facility that has been damaged beyond repair. Our main focus is to obtain the security footage from the battle here three weeks prior. The Emperor has also ordered me to identify the assailants responsible for the destruction of this base."
"Understood, Lord Vader."
"Team One is assigned to the security station inside the command centre. Our sergeant will need as much protection as can be afforded while he obtains the appropriate footage." Vader paused, allowing his respirator to cycle. Off in the distance he could hear blaster fire ringing out. "A smaller Team Two will join me in the medical centre as I work to identify the deceased Rebels. Open communication between both teams is a must."
"Yes sir!" TK-9091 pulled back to relay the orders to his men.
Vader knew that whatever they were about to find here would be significant. He had felt it in the Force ever since they'd left Alderaan. And, as soon as they found whatever it was, he and the 501st were getting the hell off of Lothal. What was left of the Imperial base was about to fall into the hands of the local guerrillas. He knew it, and so did his troopers.
"You… you're not here to provide manpower?" Governor Pryce's voice was strained and filled with unease.
Vader turned his head slightly to meet Pryce's worried gaze. "Those were not the Emperor's orders." He gestured to the woman as her dread grew in the Force. "I suggest that you lead the way so my troopers can get to work."
The group hurried down a destroyed hallway, stepping over fallen pieces of ceiling and collapsed durasteel walls. At the junction that split off towards the medical facility, Vader pointed to Team One to continue towards the command centre further down.
At the urging from the Force, Vader called out, "Sergeant." He waited until Sergeant Fixer—sporting stormtrooper armour and a backpack carrying all of his slicing tools—turned to face him. "Once you obtain the recording, eliminate all of the footage from the database."
He didn't care if the governor was listening to his every word, the Force said it needed to be done.
The seasoned clone trooper gave him a curt nod of his head. "Of course, Lord Vader."
"What the hell is going on?" Governor Pryce vehemently hissed at Vader as Team One hurried away. Her fear and hatred of him were pummeling his shields.
The Sith Lord couldn't help but grin at her reaction. He revelled in the fear of his enemies when they realised that hope had left them well and truly behind. He cherished the moment when they finally understood that no saviour would come for them.
Just him. And he was no one's hero.
Pryce palmed the blaster pistol strapped to her hip just as Vader got her in a Force-choke. He lazily swiped the weapon away, and lifted her off of the floor to bring her face level with his own behind his mask.
"Failure is not an option against the Rebel terrorists, Governor Pryce,' the Sith Lord lectured. "The punishment for such incompetence is death."
Like all of the others before her, Pryce grappled uselessly at her throat in a desperate attempt to take in air. "Terrorists," she hissed out, spitting at Vader. Slobber splattered down her chin. "The terrorists…" Her eyes began to bulge. "...were… old… kriffing… clones."
Governor Pryce's neck snapped just as Vader let go.
She was dead before she hit the floor.
Vader took a second to reign himself in before turning to the troopers of Team Two, who had seen and heard everything. "Remove the governor from my presence. The trash compactor will suffice." He pointed to TK-9092, who'd noticeably stiffened at the dead woman's last words. "Captain Nine-Zero-Nine-Two: inform the sergeant just who he needs to be searching for on the security feed."
The captain gave him a firm nod of his head. "Yes, Lord Vader."
The Sith Lord hesitated as he watched two troopers begin to drag Pryce's body a short distance down the hallway towards the trash compactor. "The Emperor has stated that there were a few Rebel casualties. I do not know who, or how many." He shouldn't care, but he did. He knew that many in the 501st—clones and natborns alike—were still affected by the massacre that had occurred three years earlier.
"Understood, sir." Team Two stood at the ready, waiting for the Sith Lord to lead the way.
Giving his men a curt nod of his head, Vader turned and stepped into the chilled room.
Piled on the beds and floor were more bodies than Vader could count, the majority of whom were stormtroopers. But he could see a few in officers' uniforms as well.
He felt the grief from his own men spike, and sent them all a bit of reassurance through the Force. It had been ages since he'd attempted such a thing, but he could feel their anguish lessen ever-so-slightly, and knew he'd been successful.
"I will start with the stormtroopers," he told the 501st. "Everyone else can focus on whomever they choose."
"Thank you, sir," one of his troopers replied.
Vader remained silent as he carefully, yet quickly, began removing the helmets of the deceased. If there were rebel clones here, it was likely that their armour had been taken from active personnel. The identification tags embedded in the helmets would be of little use to him.
He frowned at the blank faces staring back at him. The stormtroopers were all young. The most recent wave of new recruits, or at most one wave earlier.
The Empire's Lothal base had been attacked by the rebellion, and locals, continuously for years. But, they had been moving through stormtroopers far quicker than he'd ever realised.
"Lord Vader, sir," TK-4247 called out. "We got some death troopers here, too."
Vader could do nothing but nod at the information. The base had been hit, and it'd been hit hard. "They likely were the most experienced ones here," he informed the lieutenant, gesturing to the dead before him. "The stormtroopers that I have uncovered were all new recruits."
"They didn't stand a chance," another of his troopers muttered quietly. "They were barely trained."
Before the Sith Lord could respond that the death troopers should've taken it upon themselves to supplement the basic training of their brethren, TK-9092 colourfully swore while tugging on a body that had been shoved underneath one of the medical beds.
"Found a brother, sir," the captain gruffly stated. "One of the originals, it looks like. He's not wearing armour."
A hush settled over the room as Vader carefully made his way to where TK-9092 was crouched. He stepped next to his captain and peered down to take in the deceased.
The unknown clone—the fallen soldier in simple civilian clothing—had been shot in his chest on the right-hand side. It was undoubtedly a slow and painful way to die, yet the expression on his face was one of peace.
TK-9092 cleared his throat and pointed to the inch-long scar on the side of the soldier's head.
Vader simply nodded, and blinked his eyes closed for a brief moment. This unknown clone had got his inhibitor chip removed. He had died a free man.
The Sith Lord swallowed, tucking away the anger he still felt upon discovering that his legion—the entire GAR and early Imperial Military, if he were being honest—had been nothing more than slaves to do Palpatine's bidding. To do his bidding.
"We will bring him home with us, Captain," Vader stated as gently as his vocoder allowed. "He will not remain here for the locals to find and desecrate."
...
...
"Cee-Cee Fifty-five Seventy-six," Sergeant Fixer stated as soon as Vader stepped through the blast doors of the Programming and Mechanics Department.
The Sith Lord tilted his head slightly to the side as he attempted to recall the clone's proper name.
Likely feeling pity on him, Fixer answered without having to be asked, "Gregor, sir." He gave him a tight smile. "He was a part of an elite commando squad in the Two-Twelve, called Foxtrot Group, way back during the Battle of Sarrish. Went missing for quite a while, citing amnesia. Popped back up on the radar around the time the Republic fell. Was sent to that top secret, need-to-know training facility on Daro—that I most definitely don't know a thing or two about."
"How did he become a Rebel?" Vader questioned.
"During his time on Daro, he sent out a distress signal that Eye-Ess-Bee was never actually able to trace, and a squad of our brothers broke him out a short time later." Fixer shrugged. "Don't know where he's been the last fifteen years or so. But, eventually he showed up on Lothal with a group of the Rebellion's finest and kicked some major Imperial shebs. He took down three death troopers and countless others, but was shot by a weapon's technician." He shook his head. "I'm insulted on his behalf. It's always the tech worms that you gotta keep an eye on. Slippery buggers."
"Your admiration for the Rebel terrorists is concerning, Sergeant," Vader warned without malice. "Is there something you wish to tell me?"
Fixer shook his head, but was unable—or perhaps unwilling—to wipe the grin from his face. "Believe me, sir. You'll have admiration for a few of them as well, after I show you who I found on the security feed."
With that promise in mind, Vader gestured for the sergeant to get on with it.
"Force-sensitive, believed to be Jedi, Ezra Bridger," Fixer stated as he brought up the first holo-image. "You, yourself, created his file in the Imperial Database."
Vader nodded, remembering their lightsaber duel a short time ago. "He was with Jedi Knight Caleb Dume when I saw him last." He paused. "My sources found that Dume changed his name to Kanan Jarrus after the rise of the Empire."
Fixer nodded. "Jarrus is dead. Died on Lothal a few months back." He flicked the image over to another Rebel that Vader recognised.
"Hera Syndulla," the Sith Lord stated. "One of the key leaders in the Rebellion—"
"And one of their best pilots." Fixer stated. At Vader's silence, he elaborated. "Hawk's got a little crush on her." He snorted. "Well, either that or he's got a crush on that ship of hers. It's hard to tell with him."
Vader conceded his point with a tilt of his head. "Likely the ship."
Fixer chuckled. "Up next are two more people that I know you'll recognise."
He shifted the image over to the next, and the face that appeared on the holo-projector caused Vader to stiffen in shock.
It was absurd for him to react in such a way, especially considering the fact that he knew there had been at least one former clone trooper present during the attack on the Imperial base.
But even so, Vader took a step closer to the projection in order to take in as much detail as he could. This clone trooper had a faint scar on his face and a cybernetic right eye. "Wolffe."
"Right in one, sir."
Fixer flicked the image over, and another clone trooper—this one with a full beard—appeared on the holo-projector.
Vader knew who it was the moment he appeared, having served with the man all throughout the Clone Wars. It was in this instant he finally understood the strange feeling he'd had when he had tracked down the crashed Tribunal years earlier.
A slow smile broke out on the Sith Lord's face. "Rex. Second-in-command of the Five-Oh-First."