The Sith Lord, Darth Vader, managed to control his new vehicle with surprising ease; he always had an unnatural talent for machines, especially when the topic of spaceships was involved.
He was controlling the main panel within the hour, and taking off into space in search of somewhere to recuperate after his run-in with the aliens, but it remained somewhat unnerving that Vader had no idea where -or even when- he currently was.
The information on the ship proved useless to him and brought even more questions to answer when he found the right opportunity.
Until that moment came, Vader would trust in the force. The inkling of direction provided helped to calm the hulking Sith and help show him a useful path into the unknown reaches of space.
Sure, he could follow the tracking device he used on the alien's shuttle, but that was a low priority for the Sith Lord who desired somewhere to keep himself safe and hidden; the galaxy was strange, and chasing people was not going to help him.
The force whispered in the back of his mindscape, like a non-visual map that revealed an otherwise unheard path to greatness. He had no fear, and so he listened and followed wherever it took him.
Perhaps it was the unknown variable that caused him to react with such serenity, or perhaps it was the work of an unknown source, but Vader held an unnatural calmness and acceptance for his newer situation; he felt confident in his current mission.
With a few more days of learning the controls and educating himself on the technologies used by the local alien lifeforms in this region of space, he was sure that he could properly direct himself around.
The Sith Lord would survive. He always did.
Vader continued his travels, mere hours turning into days, before the sight of his first planet came into view:
It was a large, beautiful, world. The purple lights and shining material surfaces enforced a powerful motif that left the armoured man bewildered; the planet seemed rather...rich, when compared to a common world seen in his own home galaxy.
The questions continued to pile, but he remained steadfast in his decision. He gathered his thoughts and piloted the spaceship towards the large world in search of somewhere to lay low, for now.
He planned to find a random port, store away his current shuttle, look around for locations with an elegantly small populace, and remain there for a short amount of time with the intent of keeping a low profile. It was a basic plan, but a smart one.
The recognisable visage of a metal docking port came into view. The Sith Lord mentally prepared himself for whatever came next; he was not in an Imperial-owned space docking station, and so it was imperative that he kept his head on straight.
He waited, and soon a voice came over comms:
"This is Illium Galactic Control: Asari controlled, open docking ports. How can we help you?"
The voice was female, there was no doubt, but it was painfully obvious -at least to Vader- that she had forced an unnatural sweetness in her tones. Likely a requirement for the job on this world, an admittedly natural quality found on rich docks.
Vader wanted to respond immediately, but there was the same problem from before: The language in this side of the galaxy was unknown to him, as he had been relying on the force to translate.
However, the common folk likely could not use the force to such an advanced method. He was unsure if they even understood what the force was.
He needed a method of communication that could be used to interact with the locals, without leaving room for misunderstandings. The Dark Lord gave a quick glance towards the main interface of his ship before an idea sprang into his mind.
With metaphorical fingers crossed, Vader used his basic understand of the ship's controls to send an important message to whoever was in charge, the man reeling back in shock:
The dialect he used should not have been known to these people. Even so, the computer had used its programming to translate what he had written into a different language - known as Thessian.
"They have Galactic Common as written dialect, but not for verbal communication? How odd..."
He pondered the implications for a moment, the time between messages proving slower then was expected, as a response came through within an admittedly longer time frame than necessary.
The response was short, but formal:
'We have received your message, and are willing to accept the request for docking. We hope you enjoy your stay on Illium.'
The message had been translated into common, a concept that still caused bemusement for the Sith, and he released a silent noise applicable to relief; he did not know where else he could go from here.
With confirmation for landing, Vader approached the spaceports and aligned his shuttle against the nearest docking station. He found the action much easier than anticipated, given the unfamiliar make of the craft, but thought very little of it.
Now, he needed to lay low and gather intel.
The shuttle doors hissed open with immense force as Darth Vader stood in the main doorway. He was stood with both hands on his belt, clutching at the leather straps that clipped into the metal hatch.
He looked around from behind the ramp, noticing the assortment of aliens wandering around. There was no telling how common it was for such unique specimens to be seen out in public, but he made a correct assumption that it was seen as the norm.
With a final look over his equipment, Vader began to descent the metal ramp that extended from the main door, planting his plated boots down against the flooring with unneeded force.
He had arrived on Illium.
Vader found himself intrigued; aliens were talking on the multitude of platforms enveloping around the main docks that oversaw the planet surface, of which he calculated to be miles downwards from his current position on the open skyscraper.
However, upon noticing the hall connecting to his dock and leading into the main tower, he came to the conclusion that he was, in fact, not parked on an ordinary building: it was much too wide.
He was most likely on a local business centre. The kind used to entrap tourists and entice the locals with scattered shops and alcoholic bars. It was an unwanted place for someone like Vader, who had little interest in wasting credits on organ-poison.
"Hmm...It matters not." He grumbled. "I need a place to hide, or conceal myself from the law; the enforcement may find me an unwanted presence."
The Sith Lord locked up his shuttle and continued down the main stairway. He approached the door and wandered through, entering the main hallway leading into the rest of the tourist station.
Less than five aliens were stationed in the hallway, not that Vader cared much, but the obvious lack of people made the armoured man feel somewhat in the presence of something unwanted. He had very little reason for such feelings, and so he ignored it.
The attempts to remain in the shadows lasted for a bitterly short amount of time before he noticed an alien female approaching from the opposite end of the hall. He managed to hold back his killing intent and present a cordial mask before the blue alien.
"Greetings, sir! Welcome to Illium!"
"Yes...a pleasure, miss."
"Oh, I'm sure it is! This is the home of almost all of the galaxy's imports and purchases."
"Oh really?"
In truth, Vader could not have cared less for what the woman had to say, but there remained little in terms of information and strategy for him to use physical force against the blue-skinned alien. The dark side demanded sustenance, but he refused.
"I hope you enjoy your stay!"
"...Thank you."
The Sith Lord decided to end the conversation and move past the woman with obvious refusal for any attempt made on proceeding their awkward talk.
He needed to escape the social areas and find the backstreets, then he could focus on gathering any intel about galactic affairs and other possible new locations where he would be less...disturbed than he was at the moment.
Less than ten minutes docked on Illium, and he'd already found enough reason to leave the place.
The towering male sighed in anger before moving down the hall and walking through another door which revealed the main assistance area, with its eastern wall replaced with a glass-panel window, three aliens not too dissimilar to the woman that stopped him mere moments prior working three metal desks.
Vader assumed this was the main area used for an assortment of finance-related requests, which he expected to be accompanied by endless forms of 'legally required' acceptance papers and random permission slips to dissuade claimers.
The tactic was scummy, no matter the galaxy.
He continued past the obvious scam market that followed, ignoring those who called to him with a promise of 'great deals', and searched for a newer location where he could relax.
The fates seemed to shine down on Vader, as there was a convenient neon sign shining directly above him that promoted a local club. He did not plan for visiting such a establishment, given his dislikes on the act of drinking, but it was a good choice;
It was still early in the morning, based on the clock stationed on his ship's interface, and so Vader had little worry about potential up starters who would attempt to undermine his need for privacy.
He followed the sign and entered another district within the tower's main floor. The main entrance to the bar soon revealed itself and the Sith offered one final glance around to ensure no one tried to follow him into the establishment, then entered.
Flashing neon lights and deep, purple chairs had immediately attacked Vader's visual senses. There were constant noises from the other visitors, who chatted and laughed in an aura of merriment that had become so fleeting in the man's current days.
The walls, towering and silver, reflected the bright lights and neon glowsticks that hung from the roof from thin metal frame-poles.
Jubilant drinkers and erotic servers pranced down the length of the chamber. The former with clear wobble and trembling, the latter with a practiced waltz that earned a handful of lustful admirers.
Vader felt no desire to interact with such people, it bringing memories of a past life he wished to keep locked away in the confines of his damaged mind, and so he moved towards the main bar where the least number of people were conversing.
The Sith Lord remained cautious, but also curious, as he loomed over the short alien female. She had the same appearance as the previous women that had greeted him, and the receptionist from before, which left Vader to consider the reason for this.
"This is likely their homeworld." He whispered to himself. "Or perhaps a colonised planet from their earlier years as space travellers."
"Hey, big fella! If you're done talking aloud like a weird creep, you can order now."
Vader looked up in surprise, taking in the female as she crossed her arms with a raised brow. She held his gaze, refusing to show weakness, but the small shiver in her alien form revealed her hidden worry for his mere presence; it was a noticeable impact.
"Of course. I would like an Algarine."
The woman stared up at him for a moment as she contemplated what he had said. Vader remained frozen in place, realising what he had just done; it was natural that such a beverage would not exist within an entirely different galaxy.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Apologies; it's a rare wine from a distant world, so I'm not surprised you do not know of it. I will take a human wine instead, any will do."
He ignored the confused expression from the old woman and looked around as he waited for his drink to be made. The room had much space by comparison to the ordinary bars he visited when on a mission for the Emperor:
The locals seemed to steal glances at him, but the nature behind their looks remained fearful rather than curious. He assumed they wanted to keep an eyes on him to ensure their own safety, which was smart on their part due to his unfamiliar presence.
Luckily for them, the man was distracted when the blue-skinned woman returned from the cabinets and placed a strange-looking glass down upon her table with practiced elegance.
"Here you are: A human champagne."
Vader reached out and claimed the drink, then he turned away from the bar after giving a quick nod. He moved towards the back of the room with the beverage and took a seat beside a bright window, taking in the beautiful scenery of Illium.
It provided a necessary recluse from the events of the last week; he failed to resurrect his ex-wife, the machine exploded and dragged him into a strange region of the universe, and now the presence of a new galactic empire had left him without a cause.
The Dark Lord raised his drink before pressing the side of his blackened helmet, causing an opening in the bottom mouthpiece. He prepared himself a moment and then tipped the champagne back in his mask, down his somewhat healed throat.
He found the taste a little too strong, once again a testament to his preference for light drinks, but it helped to ease the web of tension building in him.
The quiet atmosphere in the bar corner helped to appease Vader and his desire for personal space; most of the locals remained distant due to a cold tension constantly enshrouding the Sith Lord. He used this to his advantage and let himself relax.
Whatever peace he managed to obtain was soon pulled away from him, however, when the sound of loud beeping echoed from his belt. He felt the influx of anger rush through him as he grumbled.
He released a dissatisfied "What?" before moving one hand towards the back of his belt. The shift in mood went unnoticed as he pulled out the device:
It was the tracker.
The Sith watched as the holographic screen came to life with a quiet hum, revealing the same green dot Vader had seen when he first activated it. The familiar blue hue earned a perplexed glance from him, but it eventually clicked in his mind:
The Alien from the frozen planet was here.
Wordlessly, Darth Vader stood up from the table, left a small number of credits, and exited the bar.
Commander Jacobus had not been able to rest his mind since the armoured man attacked. There was an unspoken fear infesting the deepest reaches of the Turian's heart, leaving him to constantly check his surroundings in search of the human warrior.
The three aliens accompanying him did not feel as reassuring as they had mere days prior; the metal man tore through entire hordes of Geth soldiers in less than a moment, so what could normal thugs hope to achieve in comparison?
Very little, was the honest answer.
Jacobus shook himself free of such a cowardly mindset and focused on his current mission, his goal being to kill the three Quarians who took a valuable piece of data from one of his Geth.
The evidence on the Geth's taken drives could be what undoes the entire operation, if not properly dealt with before something terrible happens.
It was not long before the Turian Commander and his soldiers tracked down the location of the three Quarian upstarts responsible for causing so many problems in the last week.
The nearest mercenary -a Batarian male- looked to a small device built in his armoured hand, then he shifted to face Jacobus. "We have them, sir."
"Good." He rasped. "Follow them; Illium will not take kindly to unwatched suit rats in the districts."
"Understood."
Commander Jacobus followed his men, watching them glance between their Omni-Tools and each door connecting between the hall. It was taking a great deal of restraint to not rush down to search for the Quarians, but he managed.
Twenty minutes had passed when they arrived at the main streets, gatherings of people going about their daily commute. The targets were nowhere to be seen, and it would not be long before they were taken somewhere far away or simply escaped.
It left them momentarily stumped; the Quarians in question could have used the crowd to hide away and sneak through alleyways undetected. It would take care and focus to find these low-lives.
Fortune seemed to shine on them, however, when Commander Jacobus looked towards the docks in the southern port, a good distance away from their current position, and noted the hooded aliens had different colours with patterns down their clothes.
The Turian smiled wickedly before motioning the Batarian mercs to follow him. He approached in a rushed movement and tried to keep up with their surprisingly wide steps that helped them escape.
He began to lose them in the crowds once again, but this time Jacobus was prepared. The Turian shifted his gaze towards a random pedestrian - a brown-suited Volus - and waved him over.
"Hey!" He yelled. "Have you seen any Quarians moving through this area? I am willing to pay you credits for information, if necessary."
The Volus naturally straightened at the mention of credits, to be expected of such a greedy race, and moved towards the Turian. He looked up with the glow of his glass-covered eyes and pointed down towards a random direction, where the crowds of the districts became less populated and thinned.
"I saw three rats moving down that way."
"I see." Jacobus nodded. "Much appreciated."
Handing the Volus a few credits, he continued to the guided path alongside his mercenaries, their expressions becoming wild and vicious.
Wandering the lowest district on Illium, the ground floor, Darth Vader had begun his search. He felt the pull from the force once more, guiding him towards the green dot that continued blipping ominously.
The Sith Lord wanted to remain unknown to these aliens, believing that keeping a low profile would be the most beneficial to his survival, but the very notion of this man surviving their last encounter and revealing information filled him with rage.
He followed the tracking device with laser focus, a small, tense vibration through his apparatus which indicated a growing distaste for his exposure to an ever-widening populace that watched him closely.
Vader, in an attempt to escape the people's stares, moved down a nearby hall which transported him into the Illium local docking districts. He shifted in cautious silence at the sight before him:
Large, metallic boxes were scattered throughout in direct relation to colour and size. They had been stacked in random shapes that indicated a lack of proper direction from the planners, not that such topics particularly interested the Sith Lord.
From the platforms above, he noticed metal beams and reinforced cables being used to hoist up each of the boxes, some of which currently remained up in the skies. The sunlight was hidden behind them, casting a strong bleakness against the district.
He looked towards the docks connecting with the main district and noticed a familiar alien in bright armour rushed towards the shuttle zone, mercs in blackened outfits holding large weapons followed less than ten feet behind him.
Taking another glance at his tracking device, Vader approached from the darkness like the spectre of death and readied his lightsaber to strike; he felt a need for caution despite his obvious advantage.
However, the moment the Sith Lord reached them, the sound of blaster fire almost deafened him. The sudden flashes of light accompanied with screams earned a quickened pace from Vader as he reached the group and readied himself for combat.
He turned the corner just in time to witness one of the target's hired mercenaries gun down a running alien female, the creature's pained screams were a momentary distraction before she fell towards the ground, lifeless, abandoned by her comrades.
The remaining aliens -suited creatures in masks of coloured glass- rushed through the maze of crates and turned the nearest corner to escape. Vader, an ever curious man, decided watching had a greater benefit to himself and his desire for information.
His mind refocused on the fleeing creatures as the male guided his feminine companion into another tight corner which granted them a moment to flee from their hunters, who now rushed past different crates and metal boxes in a rush.
Vader, deciding to follow them, moved away from the docks and retraced his steps back to the main tower, planning to follow behind his chosen prey.
The Dark Lord wasted little time. He returned to his shuttle, looked over the main controls to remind himself of their functions, and prepared to take off into the unknown expanse of the galaxy; following the aliens had become a top priority despite how much he desired to remain inconspicuous.
The following weeks remained a blur for Vader, whose determination and focus proved far too empowered for mere tiredness to prove damning. He followed behind them with the same will that guided him to Illium, trusting in the force like his days in the Jedi Order almost thirteen years ago.
However, even with such powerful will, he could not help but question where these aliens were currently leading him; there seemed to be nothing of use in terms of planets.
The Sith's questions would soon be answered as a distant object came into view. It appeared silver in colour with elongated points that split into five separate 'arms'. Colourful lights reflected with an unprecedented beauty that he almost cherished.
Vader remained focused on the metal beam, mind clouded with theories and suggestions about what it was and how he could use it for his own gain. It's presence came extremely large with each moment that passed until, eventually, it seemed planetary.
Those once-unsuspected lights transformed into a collective, towers and houses melding together to form a colourful explosion. Bridges connected the different sectors, but the floating vehicles passing above them had little need for physical ground.
Vader looked closer at the five separated beams. It became obvious to him, now, that these enlarged platforms held entire social groups and important housing districts that would otherwise have little space on the admittedly-large space station.
In truth, such a large space station outranked even the Emperor's ''beloved'' Death Star; both its size and advancements were mind-blowing.
This advanced station was now the hiding place of three VERY important aliens - an armoured alien with blue armour, and two desperate escapes who seemingly held important information. Such clear intel would prove useful in Vader's metal hands.
"Now, let the hunt begin."
With those cold, finalised words, Darth Vader found himself approaching the space station and waiting for the inevitable contact from the docking guards, his mind focused on a singular goal to slaughter all who prevented him from reaching his targets.
He would NOT be denied.
...Well, even Sith Lords can be wrong.
The 'Citadel Control', as they were called, refused to grant Vader entry until he passed a handful of important clearances and mandatory tests to be sure that he would not cause problems for them.
Despite feeling the urge to force choke everyone responsible for such a horrible setback, he instead offered them a harsh glare beneath his mask then continued down towards the main hub; his shuttle was taken to the local docks by hired mechanics.
The main tourist section remained small, much to his own surprise, but that mattered very little for a short-time visitor like Vader. He wanted to find the aliens, take their intel, and leave for whatever was found on the device. There was no time for shops.
The Sith Lord approached the main elevator, mind focused on the task at hand, as he pulled out the same tracking device. The familiar green dot was rather close, but remained on a higher floor from where he currently stood.
"They are roaming the so-called Presidium. This makes it far easier." He pressed a button and the elevator doors slammed shut. "I have them both cornered, now it's time to collect my prize."
Vader waited less than a moment before rushing out from the elevator, ignoring the onlookers who watched him in unnerved silence, and followed a provided destination from his device. The tool in question beeped for him to move south and rush down a random flight of stairs positioned right.
Just a little further-
"Where are you going?" A familiar voice growled ominously down the oncoming halls, "You can't hide from me forever."
The tracking device in Vader's hand confirmed his suspicions; this was the alien. The same man who he allowed to flee from the planet of snow, just to return with the intent to claim his life. It filled him with humour and bitterness, knowing that such a mindless action had prolonged this damn chase.
Well, it mattered little now. He was cornered and alone with nowhere to run. The cards were on the table, and Vader would collect his winnings: their data, money, items, and perhaps even a so-called 'Omni-Tool' he had heard so much about.
The sudden arrival of the alien's mercenaries had little effect on Vader; he had made up his mind, he would kill them all and take their hunt for himself. No matter how much they fought back and gave a fight, this would be their final resting place.
He reached a gloved hand outwards, and with the force he crushed the overhead lights. Liquid was immediately spilled upon the walls and floors, an unnatural sound equivalent to a scream echoed across the hall before Vader deactivated his suit's breathing apparatus, concealing himself.
The darkness became his domain.