Pain.
The itch on his artificial skin, the phantom pain from his dismembered appendages, the rough edges of his mask stabbing into his face, the burns scars inside his lungs. They are like white-hot knives searing the inside and outside his body. He would be screaming in agony if he hadn't been familiar with it for more than twenty years of his life. He simply wills the pain to feed the Dark Side.
He opens his eyes and his helmet HUD appears. The air is breathable, it writes. Not that he could smell anything other than his own body waste and charred skin. The twin moons of the planet decorate the night sky with their light.
He looks around. He's lying on the ground surrounded by forest bearing similarities to Endor. He hoists himself to stand up under the heavy weight of his armor. He closes his eyes and meditated, letting his mind taps into the Force. He could sense fear and desperation. Intense emotions that are related to the Dark Side.
Dark side…
Memories flashes by his eyes. He remembers Darth Sidious Force Lightning disabling his armor's life support system as he threw him down the exhaust shaft of the Death Star. He remembers speaking to his son as a father for the first time - and the last – in his dying breath. He remembers witnessing his son burying his body and burning his Sith Armor as a Force Ghost.
He died. He has been sent into Chaos that is created for all Sith Lord. It's the only explanation on how he gets back into his armor and the intensity of the Dark Side here.
The Resistance won the war. The New Republic would continue the Empire rule of outlawing slavery, as ironic that may be, by using the Empire outposts in the Outer Rim. The outposts were mostly captured by the Resistance near the end of the Civil War. With the Hutt rotten empire in shamble, a planet full of suffering should be non-existent.
Uneasiness intrudes. He could feel multiple powerful beings on the planet setting their sight on him. He ejects himself from the Force current. Attracting the attention of whatever creatures that are guarding the damned are not going to end well for him.
He stands silent. He stares into the forest. Thinking…that he had died.
Instead of screaming in rage or stomping in protest, he relents to his fate. If the Cosmic Force deems his sacrifice to save his son isn't enough to wash all of his sins, then so be it. He doesn't deserve redemption. Not after he coldly murdered the Younglings who trusted him, and overseeing dozens of genocides without as much as a second thought than the flick of his light saber.
He deserves eternal torment. Justifying his actions with 'Fearing his Sith Master punishment' is just as flimsy as the Order excuses for snatching Force sensitive children from their families. He could simply choose not to carry out his master's order. But he didn't. He enjoyed inflicting his own sufferings onto others.
He is a monster, as much as he is a coward for burying his past in genocides. He is a cowardly monster. It's very befitting for him to be sent into Chaos to answer for all his sins.
For decades he wished for release from his Sith Master's control. He got his wish and he shall pay for it.
A flicker of disturbance washes over his body. It's subtle enough that it couldn't be detected by people without strong connection to the Force. The disturbance brings knowledge about a conflict happening not far away.
No one could wage war in Chaos, he realizes.
He quickly re-establishes his connection to the Force. He has to investigate the planet. He dives further in and it brings him intrigues. He could sense patches of lands on the planet that are completely devoid of the Force. He could sense multiple immensely powerful beings, the same beings that had observed him earlier residing on a faraway land on the planet.
He could also sense a faint presence. A very, very faint light presence like a faraway starlight beacon guiding travelers in the dark sectors of space. Curious, he strengthened his connection a thousand-fold. The action would catch the attention of the beings that are observing him. But he pays them no mind as he continues swimming towards the light.
The presence is being shielded by some sort of protective bubble. He carefully swims through it without compromising its integrity. The presence multiplies and brighten. If the bubble happens to pop, the presence's light could break through the dark mist that is the sufferings on the planet. The closer he gets, the stronger he could feel the presence embracing his mind in a gentle manner.
Even if no one understands me...I'll keep going on the path I chose. Maybe it will incinerate me to dust...but if I don't do it, nobody can.
He hears the presence vows. A vow so naïve yet so sincere. A vow so uncertain yet brimming with resolve.
The thought of untainted souls, much less a hidden powerful Force user existing on the planet triggers mixed feelings in him. For one, it reminds him of Obi Wan. But the light is purer - and brighter - than his former Jedi master. He couldn't help himself to not bask in the warm presence in amusement. The Jedi Order couldn't hope to match the light as much as they swear they are the embodiment of the Light Side itself.
Regardless, he doesn't know how he get here nor where he is. He never learnt Sith Reincarnation techniques. The only thing capable of reincarnating him is the Cosmic Force. He doesn't know the purpose of his reincarnation on this planet.
Is this the Cosmic Force giving him further chance to redeem himself? He doesn't know. The Force is unnaturally silent. It offers no prophecy nor guidance, no matter how much he tries invoking for its help.
One thing is certain, the brighter the light, the darker the shadow. He has to protect that presence no matter what it takes. That is his current objective until he could figure out his circumstances.
The interference in the Force prevents him from gathering more information regarding the planet.
He pulls back and searches for the nearest living sentient creature to assist him navigate the planet. He finds three groups of people, each of them has bizarre connection to the Force. One group is fleeing from another that reeks of the Dark Side while the third group is neutral. The third group is staying close to both groups. The third group is possibly spying on them or waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Save us, anyone!
The voice belonging to the fleeing group echoes in his mind.
He begins trudging towards the group. The dried leaves and small twigs are crushed under his weight. The moonlight shines between the leaves, illuminating the forest floor and gleaming off his suit in dazzling glow. The predator nocturnal aliens' lifeforms stalk him from the darkness but he flares up his aura. None of them dares to approach.
He let his mind wander to distract him from the pain as he journeyed through the forest...only to have it brought out the memories he wants none of;
The hot gas was filling his lungs and molten lava crawling up on his back. Obi-Wan looked at his maimed body with grief and disappointment. The pain was not rivaled when he knew he had killed Padme because, finally, when he could have saved her, when he could have gone away with her, when he could have been thinking about her, he was thinking about himself…It was in that blazing moment that he finally understands the trap of the dark side, the final cruelty of the Sith - Because now himself is all he will ever have.
Vengeance against Obi-Wan who left him to suffer as Darth Vader, resurfacing. Rage towards Palpatine that made him prisoner in the suit, intensify. His mind begins to be shrouded in darkness.
No!
He would not succumb to the temptation of the Dark Side! Not after all of the things his son had sacrificed to show him the errors of his way! Darth Sidious is dead! He had already made amend with Obi-Wan after they reunited again as Force Ghosts!
He scrunches his eyes shut, ignoring that his forehead being scratched by the mask. He represses his emotions just in time to sense that the groups have stopped moving altogether.
The Dark Siders group are surrounding the group, cutting off all available escape route. The fleeing group is exhausted. They couldn't run. They are mounting a last stand. The third group watches the event unfold without taking any action.
If he continues trudging, it would take 10 minutes to reach them. The intensity of the Force within the Dark Siders is high. The fleeing group wouldn't be able to last another 5 minutes.
He has to sprint. It would be painful but he has no choice.
Channeling the Force to augment his body, he sprinted. Trees blur past him and his legs gnaws. He uses the pain as a focal to channel in the Force, further increasing his speed.
He skids to a halt a few hundred meters away from the group, just in front of a thick fog that blanketed the area. It's sorcery, he knows as it isn't natural. However, he isn't trained in the Dathomirian witches arts to undo the spell.
Incapacitating or killing the casters would probably undo it. The Dark Siders precise locations had been pinpointed.
He trudges into the fog. The further he trudges in, the thicker the fog gets. The cooing of nocturnal alien lifeforms stops and the forest becomes deathly quiet. His respirators are going to give away his location regardless of the limited visibility. Masking the noise with the Force is simply not efficient given it's a simple task. So, he doesn't bother hiding his presence.
He could feel dreads emanating from the fleeing group without using the Force. He could hear the twang of crossbow firing their primitive projectiles. The crossbow bolts never reach true as they thunks into tree barks or stuck into the ground.
The Dark Siders are just in front of him. They are already aware of his presence.
He switches to thermal vision. Dozens of red silhouettes are looking at him. He first thought that they are human, but when he noticed their horns and extra pair of ears, he becomes intrigued. The species of the Dark Siders are not written in any books in aby archive. All three groups would resemble humans if not for their extra appendages.
He would have to spare one for interrogation.
The Dark Siders begins to chant with meanings unbeknownst. He could feel the Dark Siders trying to insert their Dark Force into him, to manipulate his body. He blocks the intrusion with a simple Force barrier. When they find themselves unable to break through it, the Dark Siders pointed their staves towards him, channeling the Dark Force into them. His precognition warns him of imminent danger.
He doubts they would be able to harm him. He taps into the Dark Siders' minds instead of defending himself. He takes note of their languages that is similar to Galactic Standard yet so bizarre. He also takes note of their intention; they are trying to eliminate him for interfering in their hunt. They see him as a pest not worthy of acknowledgement.
Gone the thoughts of sparing the Dark Siders as anger takes over him.
The hostile sorcerers launch their attack in the form of black ball of energy. He plants his feet on the ground and conjures a stronger Force Barrier. The ball of energy slams into his barrier and dissipates into nothingness.
He doesn't remember the Force is capable of such feat.
Before the sorcerers could cast a much stronger attack, he raises his open palm towards the Dark Siders. The Dark Siders gasps for breath as he lifts them into the air by the throat. They desperately claw onto their throat. It's a vail attempt to release themselves from the invisible grips.
He closes his open palm into a fist. Their throats are crushed. Their lives essence gone from their body in an instant. Their bodies hang limply in the air.
He brings his hand to his side. The bodies are released and they crumple onto the ground in a heap.
"Pathetic." He scoffs. He has no need for his light saber to strike them down.
Underestimating him was their last mistake.
With the sorcerers dead, he waits for the fog to clear up. Seconds passes…and the fogs haven't moved a single bit. He is wasting time. Becoming impatient, he decides to risk himself in a friendly fire accident by approaching the fleeing group from the fog.
He's about a shouting distance away from the group. He's about to pipe out that he isn't a threat until he hears another chanting from another group that he thought wouldn't intervene. An unknown type of Force emanating from the chanter shrouds the area. It isn't with the intent to harm nor he could feel any malevolency. He allows the sorcerer to finish.
When the sorcerer did finish his chant, the fog is absorbed into the very air. He finds himself standing in the middle of a forest clearing. His black cloak billowing in the breeze. The first thing he sees is a giant earth golem shielding the group he's trying to save. It is an interesting sight. Seeing a person with the same ability as Shapers of Kro Var is rare even during his tenure as a Sith Lord.
But first, he would have to greet the new arrival to ascertain their intentions. He turns around towards the forest.
"Show yourself, sorcerer." He commands. The speaker amplifies his voice modulator.
The sorcerer walks out from the tree line. He's wearing thematically blue appearance with a pair of armbands that has logo of a castle. "I mean no harm. I am a Rhodes Island operator. I am here to help."
It's an opportunistic time to enter the fray when he had just dealt with the Dark Siders. "Where is the rest of your team?" He demands.
"I am alone," the sorcerer lies, he knows immediately. There are six persons hiding behind the trees.
"Do not test my patience, sorcerer. My patience is limited." He bellows.
The Rhodes Island sorcerer raises a thumbs up into the air as far as his arm could reach. Six people, all of them wearing the same thematically blue as the sorcerer trickles out from the forest carrying variety of crossbows and melee weapons. They stare at him with suspicion and fear. He doesn't mind.
"I believe that we meet here with the same goals in mind. It would be wise that we don't…fight amongst ourselves in front of a group we're trying to help." The Rhodes Island sorcerer nods towards the group he's trying to save. They are battered. Scratches and wounds scar their exposed appendages. They form an impromptu protective circle around a figure in full body suit that stands just behind the giant golem. He assumes that the figure in full body suit is their leader.
Compared to the group he had just killed earlier; these one has a pair of more pointed horns and their bodies are burlier.
"Identify yourself, Rhodes Islanders!" One of the group members barks while hoisting his shield.
None of the 'Rhodes Islanders' dares to answer the group demand. Their focus is entirely on him, anticipating his next move that they would perceive as hostile.
It's a stupid move from the Rhodes Islanders and him to not answer the terrified group demand. The ground begins to rumble. He turns around, leaving his back exposed to the 'Rhodes Islanders' as he faces the golem. The primitive weapons wouldn't be able to hurt him.
The giant earth golem charges with speed unbefitting of its large size. One of its arms is raises overhead. He has never faced a golem as his opponent. The fight would be more thrilling if he doesn't use the Force. He unbuckles his light saber from his belt. He would wait for the golem to gets closer and then he would activate the blade.
"You are very powerful." The sorcerer interrupts. "I have no doubt that you could destroy the golem without much effort. However, please allow me to take rein of the situation. I know about Mudrock and her group." The sorcerer bows towards him.
Realization hits him. The nature of his suit makes him intimidating despite him already hiding his aura. Showing his power would further intimidate the terrified group. It would make negotiation harder. He has to concede to the sorcerer's request, as much as it hurts his ego. Accomplishing his objective efficiently is priority.
"You may proceed."
He dashes to the left as the golem smashes his fist into the ground, forming a small crater. He dashes away as far as he could to give room for the Rhodes Island sorcerer to fight. Deciding that chasing him would leave its conjurer exposed, the golem turns its attention towards the closest target; the Rhodes Island sorcerer.
The golem repeats the overhead smash but the Rhodes Island sorcerer is faster. The sorcerer ducks underneath its arm and counter-attacked the golem with a push. A simple push as if the sorcerer is pushing small items off a table in boredom. The action freezes the golem before disintegrating it on the spot. Dirt splattered all over the green grass.
"Wa-Wait, what did they…do?" The group stands speechless. Fear rooting them to the spot.
The Rhodes Island sorcerer casually stride towards the group.
The leader of the group regains his senses. "Don't engage! Fall back! That's a Sarkaz…! And…" He barks orders.
"I've heard of you, in Operator Folinic's report. The Sarkaz who makes the earth dance. I, too, am not your enemy." The sorcerer assures. His voice loud and soft.
The group stares at him. Silence reigns over the forest. Both sides stares at each other, anticipating the other side next move.
The middle of the circle formation splits open. The leader of the group steps forward. He probes the leader of the group with the Force. She is terrified, that he knows. The Force tells him that the group leader is a woman. Her body stature, height, he knows. The giant suit made her an intimidating sight though she would be…petite, for the lack of better term, if she removed the suit.
Now that he notices their heights, he actually towers everyone that are present.
The twilight divides the sky in dark blue and white. It would seem that the sun and the moon themselves are gracing the encounter with the beauty of prelude to dawn.
Even with the mesmerizing sight, the girl has both of her hand's tensing on the hilt of her war hammer as she approaches the Rhodes Island sorcerer.
Murmurs ensue amongst the group. He takes the chance to tap into her followers' mind. Discussion on whether these 'Rhodes Islanders' are a friend or foes, whether their leader would be fine. The one thing that piques his small curiosity is that the group refers to her as a male.
"You're not a Leithanien. You give off a very unusual feelings and you're so young…Who are you?" The leader of the group asks. The visor of her suit made her voice sounds deep.
The sorcerer takes off his hat and slightly bows. "Only a Rhodes Island Operator…Only of a kind with you, a Sarkaz. Call me Logos if you wish."
"Mudrock." The leader of the group utters. "Call me Mudrock."
"Mudrock." The sorcerer nods. "Your group are heavily wounded in your escape from the Witch King's followers. You would have troubles getting to the nearest settlement in this condition. If your group insists on walking towards Kazdel, please allow us to treat you. Rhodes Island has a cabin nearby stuffed with medical supplies including Oripathy suppressant."
Mudrock turns around towards her followers. Her followers stare at her, accepting any of her decisions. They don't have enough energy to protest or to think of any other options. She has to decide it by herself.
She turns back around towards the Rhodes Island sorcerer and answers, "We accept your offer."
The Force and his suit augmenting it allows that he understands the conversation fluidly. He only has to stand silent like a statue as he listens in on their exchange.
Sarkaz. Oripathy. Leithanien. Caster. Rhodes Island. Witch King.
He commits the terms to memories. He would have to do his own research on the matters. Asking the groups would arouse suspicion and even if they do humor him, bias might skew their answers.
The Rhodes Island sorcerer walks back to his teammates and approaches him.
"Mister-"
He bears down his sight towards the sorcerer. "Do not call me Mister, Rhodes Islander." He interrupts.
"My apologies. I haven't introduced myself properly. My name is Logos. I am a Sarkaz and a Rhodes Island Caster, at your service." The Rhodes Island sorcerer bows. "May inquire your name?"
His time as a Sith Dark Lord has ended with his death. No longer he is a 'Darth' but he is also no longer a Skywalker. The Force forbids if he has any guts to reclaim that name again after everything he had done.
"Vader."
Logos nods. "Vader, your aids against the Witch King's followers would be compensated accordingly by Rhodes Island. However, I have to ask you to accompany us to Rhodes Island landship for us to be able to give you the reward." The sorcerer informs.
He read the sorcerer's team minds. They are on a mission to observe these Witch King's followers' activities and they regretted they hadn't helped the group sooner. He could trust Rhodes Island to at least fulfill their promises of rewards.
However, accepting Logos' offer would waste his time that would be better spent in search for the presence. He also has no need for rewards. Getting involved with an organization he has no knowledge of might backfire. He has no need to make enemies on this strange planet by making friend with a breakaway faction for all he knows.
He's about to refuse the offer until the Force echoes:
Follow them and you will find the thing you sought to protect.
Honestly, the Force is starting to irritate him.
Mudrock trusts Rhodes Island. However, he doesn't know Mudrock's personality or her history with Rhodes Island to know the significance of her trust towards the organization. He wants to tell Mudrock that the Rhodes Islanders are watching them fight to death without taking direct action to help them. Of course, doing so would deteriorate the situation. He also doesn't know what the Rhodes Island sorcerer is up to.
Maybe he should accept the rewards for the sake of escorting Mudrock and her followers. Not that he wanted to keep them safe. It's only for the sake of convenient.
Author Note:
Redemption is a one-shot crossover fic. However, I am interested and will turn it into a proper story if you, dear readers, want me to do so. Comment or PM me regarding your opinion on my writings, your expectation of this story or anything...whatever you you have on your mind after reading this.
This fanfic is written to humor one of my friends. It is also written to distract me from cleaning up a pile of mess that is my 'Tiberium' crossover fic.