Ah shit here we go again… ;)
How long has it been? Over a month? My timing just keeps getting more and more productive am I right? I feel it's a waste of breath for me to apologize and promise more regular uploads. It really all depends on my workload, which writing project I choose to work on and of course, being able to doge that accursed writer's block.
So, for now, rejoice because a new chapter of Obi-Wan fanfic is here and I am going to answer the comments from my last chapter.
RKF22: I possess many abilities some consider to be… unnatural (like the ability to never release a fanfic chapter on time ;)
gdvp111: First of all, straight up, thank you so much for taking the time to write out this detailed and thought out comment on what I've written so far. It means a lot to me that this story invested you enough that you took the time to write this comment and I want you to know that some of the changes in how I imagined the story progressing came from your suggestions and criticisms, so thank you. I will try to address as many of your points as possible in as organized a way as I can:
-I understood that when Obi-Wan fought Maul on Tatooine he bated him by using Qui-Gon's attack stance which threw Maul off-guard. However, that may have failed to come across if I confused the different lightsaber forms. I apologize for that, that's just bad research, or Wookieepedia lied to me ;)
-I will try to manage the interactions between Obi-Wan and the secondary characters a bit better, but I also have to be careful not to lose the central focus of the story by introducing too many supporting characters at the risk of forgetting some of them.
-Concerning introducing more Force sensitive users, that is entirely possible. I am not super well versed in the EU characters or those that aren't in the spotlight the most so I'd have to make sure I did research before putting them in, but Mara Jade feels like a must. If you've got any comics you'd recommend on this period that could give me some ideas I'm totally open.
-Obi-Wan letting the dark side consume him briefly was definitely a controversial move on my part. To me it was like he was always in control and was just using it to show that the power of the light side was stronger, though since he didn't fully embrace it that is also some dishonesty on Obi-Wan's part. Concerning the power representation, I instinctively made Obi-Wan more powerful that cannon relative to his age and I'm also going off the idea that he trained INTENSIVELY on Tattooine which helps explain his level. Overall though, he's powerful because I like my boy Obi-Wan with some dope powers. It can make for some nice "humble-pie" moments like with the Inquisitor ;)
-Concerning all the lore errors, I apologize. Some things I just flat out had no idea but now I know. And concerning future characters and plot points I'd rather not get too ahead of myself on that. I'm still very much writing this story as I go along with specific plot points in mind for later and much much later ;) you'll see ;)
THANK YOU FOR THE COMMENTS! PLEASE FAVORITE, FOLLOW AND COMMENTS IT MEANS A LOT TO ME AND LET'S GET ON WITH THIS NEW CHAPTER. MAY THE FORCE BE WITH YOU!
Obi-Wan didn't want to open his eyes. He'd regained consciousness, but instead of seeing where he was, he extended out through the Force, trying to sense familiar Force presences. The fact he did not feel anything gave him some apprehension about what he'd see when he opened his eyes.
Is this what death…
"Forgotten how to use your eyes have you?" an instantly familiar, gravelly voice spoke.
Obi-Wan's eyes flew open and sure enough, sitting across from him, cross-legged, on a futon, was the former Grand Master of the Jedi Order: Master Yoda. He wore a cloak made out of roughly woven plant fibers, which was draped over a brown battle tunic. A small gimer stick laid by his right side, and a similarly-sized lightsaber to his left.
Once Obi-Wan had taken in every detail of Yoda's appearance, he cast his gaze at their surroundings. The room they were in had a tall ceiling, with smooth and modern architecture and large windows that gave view upon a bustling nighttime metropolis. Outside, thousands of flying vehicles weaved around each other in dozens of chaotically organized lines, like a human-sized flying ant hill.
The rest of the room was in the dark. The only source of light was the distant glow from the city lights and head-lights outside.
It took less than a second for Obi-Wan to recognize this place: Coruscant, the former capital of the Old Republic and current capital of Palpatine's Galactic Empire.
The old human Jedi looked back to the infinitely older alien Master who merely eyed him with a well-used look that always made its recipient know that there was something Yoda knew that they didn't.
Obi-Wan decided it was best to stay silent and let Yoda engage the conversation since he preferred not to awkwardly ask if he was dead.
After a long minute of silence, during which Yoda's gaze stayed fixed on Obi-Wan, the old Grand Master picked up his gimmer stick and lifted himself up so he was standing at eye level with Obi-Wan, who stayed seated.
Yoda looked over his shoulder as if to make sure nobody was eavesdropping on them, and with a conspiring smirk, gestured for Obi-Wan to come closer to him.
Obi-Wan leaned forward, turning his head to hear what Yoda had to say, only to be greeted by a sharp whack on the head from his gimmer stick.
"Ow!" Obi-Wan let out, recoiling away from Yoda who sat back down with a low chuckle.
"Aaah, so lost your tongue you have not," the Grand Master remarked, punctuating his sentence with another light chuckle, which sounded like a speeder bike engine trying to start up. "Disturb my meditation you do, and no apology do I receive? Hmmm?"
This last questioning onomatopoeia was something Obi-Wan had always found amusing with Yoda. The old Grand Master seemed to always end his questions with a questioning grunt, either to stimulate a response from the other party or, when Yoda was feeling sarcastic, in order to mark a question as rhetorical.
Obi-Wan felt it best not to linger in his answer, lest Yoda decide to beat him with his lightsaber next.
"My apologies, Master," Obi-Wan said, giving a slight bow of deference. "If I'd known you were meditating, I would have waited another few days before coming here."
Yoda shook his head at Obi-Wan's joke but took it in good spirit. The old Grand Master laid down his gimmer stick and relaxed back into his meditative pose.
"Know where you are, Obi-Wan? Hmmm?" Yoda asked.
"What lies beyond death…" Obi-Wan replied slowly. "The living Force?"
Yoda's demeanor seemed to somber slightly. The old Grand Master hunched forward, his eyelids closing for a couple seconds. When he opened his eyes and looked at Obi-Wan, his worried countenance remained.
"Close you were, yes. Close you still are…" the older Jedi spoke slowly. "But dead, you are not."
"Then…" Obi-Wan started, looking at his surrounding with wide eyes. "This is a dream?"
"Dream of me, I hope you do not," Yoda replied, cracking a faint smile. "No. Communicating we are. Through the Force, speaking to you I am."
Obi-Wan felt both reassured but also as though a thousand-ton backpack had just been thrown on his shoulders. A backpack he'd just taken off, but was forced to put on again.
"A dangerous gamble you made with Skywalker, Obi-Wan," Yoda said impassively.
"Master, Luke needed to begin his journey," Obi-Wan protested. "He was in danger, I had no choice."
"Choice?" Yoda asked, looking up to his former student. "There is always a choice. And it is not this Skywalker of whom I speak of."
Obi-Wan paused, understanding what Yoda meant and found he could not argue with him on this point. His entire exchange with Anakin had been a gamble, and potentially a very costly one.
"I thought I could change him, Master," Obi-Wan said in a low tone. "I thought that if I could get through to him, I could somehow change him. But I couldn't feel anything. There was pain, sadness but no sign of the man I'd once known."
Yoda nodded sadly, a knowing expression on his face.
"Hmmm… unknown, his Master's influence over him is. Likely expected this possibility, Sidious has. Further pushed Skywalker away, we may have…"
Obi-Wan couldn't find words to express how he felt. Apologizing would do no good, and even if it did, Obi-Wan did not feel he had anything to apologize for. He'd made a promise to bring Anakin back to the Light, and he would not stop until he'd spent his last breath.
"What must I do, Master?" Obi-Wan asked the old Grand Master. It was easily the question Yoda had received the most in his entire lifetime.
"Continue the boy's training you must," Yoda stated. Obi-Wan nodded, glad there was something they both agreed on. "Train the other Jedi as well. More survivors will emerge, training they will need. When the time is right, join you I will."
This last sentence left Obi-Wan stunned. Master Yoda was ready to end his exile? As Obi-Wan went to ask more details, the entire room they were in started to shake, like an earthquake was propagating through the Jedi Temple. Their surroundings were blurring together, as if dissolving in a pool of water.
Yoda nodded at the chaos surrounding them and turned his gaze back to Obi-Wan.
"Out of danger you appear to be. Train them, protect them, see you soon I will."
"Master! Wait…"
But as Obi-Wan tried to reach out to Yoda, he disappeared, as did everything around him and he suddenly felt as though he were drowning.
He slowly opened his eyes and scanned his immediate surroundings. All he could see was a metallic grey ceiling, dimly lit by long strips of light. He reached out with the Force to sense any immediate threats: nothing.
Despite the intense pain he felt coursing throughout his entire body, he managed to lift himself up so that he was seated on his bed. Looking around the room, he realized that it was completely empty, apart from his bed and a single sign that read: "STERILE ENVIRONMENT FOR LIFE SUPPORT RECOVERY".
As he read the sign, he started to piece together what had happened and where he was likely to be. He brought his hands up to his face but nothing came to touch the scarred, pale flesh of his cheeks. Looking down, he saw that both his arms stopped just below the elbow, ending in a charred and scarified stump. His eyes fell on his legs. They both ended below the knee, dangling weakly over the side of the bed.
Darth Vader looked on, powerless, at what was left of his body without his prosthetic limbs and life support suit. His skin was an unnatural, sickly white, uneven patches of yellowing skin covered his body, all layered with burn scars and large boils on all parts of his anatomy. He stared in disbelief at his four dismembered appendages, feeling a hot pit of anger welling up in his stomach.
Underneath him, he heard the bed crinkle and break, as if squeezed by an otherworldly force. The wall of the room groaned and creaked, moving inwards until the pressure was too strong and it busted a large tear, letting out a hissing stream of pressurized gas.
Instantly, Vader felt his lungs burn up and tense up. It was like a fire had been set inside his chest, every breath he drew only made the pain more intense and debilitating. As Vader tried to calm his breathing, a doctor dressed in a white gown and wearing a breathing mask, entered the room, holding an oxygen tank with a mask in her hand:
"Lord Vader you mustn't…"
She didn't have time to finish her sentence as she felt herself being picked up, an intense pressure squeezing down around her windpipe. She gasped for breath, looking with pleading eyes at the limbless figure on the bed who stared back without a shred of empathy.
"Lord Vader!" another voice called out.
The Sith Lord released his hold on the doctor, who fell to the ground and immediately ran out of the room, terrified.
Vader looked emotionlessly at the man who'd just entered the room: his Master, Darth Sidious. His dark cloak and hood enveloped his entire body, revealing only his twisted smile, the rest of his face remaining shrouded in darkness.
"Master…" Vader said. His tone was neither a greeting, nor a surprise. It was a drawn out growl that left its recipient completely indifferent.
Sidious walked slowly up to Vader's bedside. Deliberately taking every step, as though he had all the time in the world. When he finally reached the edge of the bed, his eyes contemplated the inert body of his apprentice.
"Such weakness," he stated simply. "For all your power, you still rely on machines and science to keep you alive. How disappointing."
"Master… help me…" Vader could barely manage to choke out any words. He had no way to wet his lips or his tongue, in addition to the excruciating pain that accompanied every breath he took.
"I do not believe you deserve it, Lord Vader," Sidious stated simply, the corners of his mouth barely moving as he spoke those words. "You failed to kill Kenobi. Twice. And now, the weapon that would have assured peace and order in my Empire has been destroyed. I fear you are no longer worthy to be my apprentice."
"I am not… let me prove…" Vader's voice was barely above a whisper. He couldn't speak anymore; he was barely holding on to consciousness.
"I know of a way you may prove your worth," Sidious spoke evenly, a malicious grin spreading across his face. He leaned in close to Vader's ear and whispered in a snake-like tone: "Show me your will."
Sidious took a step away from Vader, extended both his hands from the folds of his cape and let out a flurry of Force lightning directly onto the body of his apprentice.
Vader's entire body curled up from the intense pain. He completely forgot about his inability to breathe, this was infinitely worst. It was like his entire body was repeatedly being dragged over crushed glass. Vader let out a blood-curdling scream, projecting his anger and suffering out through the Force.
The pain disappeared as suddenly as it had started. As Vader attempted to calm his breathing, he felt an oxygen mask slip over his face, offering sweet relief to his withered lungs. Palpatine laid a cold hand on his apprentice's forehead, watching with a smile as Vader's breathing settled back to its familiar rhythm.
"Your will is still intact. Good," Palpatine spoke in a low, raspy tone. "You will continue your mission, Lord Vader. The Rebellion has become emboldened by their recent victory. We must assert that the Empire is still the dominant force in the galaxy. I trust you are up to the challenge."
A few harrowing seconds of silence passed between the two men. Around them lay a scene of utter destruction. All the priceless medical equipment was reduced to crushed pieces of scrap metal alongside the lifeless bodies of medical personnel who weren't able to get clear in time. Vader replied in a muted tone:
"Yes, my Master."
Palpatine smiled sadistically before making his way towards the exit to the medical center. A few feet away from the door, he turned back.
"I sensed a different presence onboard the Death Star," Palpatine spoke evenly. "Not yours, or Kenobi's, or any of the other rabble that now follows him. No, this was someone else. A familiar presence, brimming with potential, as you once were. Do you know who it was?"
The silence again chilled the room.
"No, my master," Vader replied with the same submissive tone as earlier.
Palpatine pursed his lips for a second before turning away from his apprentice. Just as he crossed the door, he stopped and spoke in a voice dripping with malice and evil:
"As a precaution, I will now have direct control over your suit's life support settings. However, I trust this will prove an unnecessary measure."
Palpatine left the room, as the new medical staff started preparing Vader's prosthetics and life support suit.
Obi-Wan and Ahsoka sat side by side in silence, looking out over the vast expanse of lush forests that covered most of Yavin 4's surface. They were in a half-meditation, using to Force to commune with the planet's nature and help calm their minds.
Obi-Wan looked over to the young woman by his side, and at her bandaged lekku. She hadn't said anything about the entire incident on the Death Star but Obi-Wan knew it had to be eating away at her. He felt the same.
"Will it grow back?" Obi-Wan asked, shifting his gaze back towards the endless forests.
"Slowly, yes," Ahsoka replied, implicitly understanding what he was referring to. "It'll take time but…"
She couldn't finish her sentence; Obi-Wan heard her try to hold back her tears and keeping up her emotional balance in the Force. The old master passed his arm gently over her shoulder and held her close. The young Togruta leaned against him and they both tightened their grips onto each other, reassuring themselves that everything would turn out alright in the end.
Ahsoka separated from Obi-Wan and ran both her hands down his arms, grasping his right hand in her left, and holding onto the sleeve of his tunic where his left hand should have been. Pulling the fabric up revealed a bandaged stump a couple of inches below the elbow. Ahsoka did her best to hold back her tears as she gently ran her hand around the base of the wound.
"I don't know why you refuse to accept a prosthetic," Ahsoka said in a low voice.
"Perhaps for the same reason you won't try to disguise your lekku," Obi-Wan replied with a small smile. His tone became more serious as he held up what remained of his left arm. "I see it as penance, for my arrogance. I wanted to save Anakin, yet I may have pushed him out of our reach for good."
"That's not true, master," Ahsoka bit back, her anger flaring. "Palpatine lured him to the Dark Side. Not you. You shouldn't punish yourself for something you can't control."
Obi-Wan waited for Ahsoka to regain control of her emotions. His voice was calm and steady:
"When Anakin lost his arm it only made him tip further away from the Light. He always felt that the other Jedi could never truly understand how he felt as the Chosen One, and now with a severed arm, that was even truer. He replaced it with a more powerful arm, perhaps to compensate for how powerless he'd felt against Count Dooku during our first duel. That arm was like an inescapable shadow, a constant reminder of how his power had been underutilized, and that if maybe he'd been stronger, he wouldn't have lost it, or Gui-Gon, or his mother… I still believe he can be turned, but I cannot be the one to do it. Hopefully, this injury will also convince the Rebel Alliance's high command to transfer me to less… physically enduring tasks."
Ahsoka couldn't hold back a soft chuckle.
"So this is all to get yourself out of combat duty?" she mused. "I know you're not planning on stopping your training, especially not with this new batch of students you've taken on."
"Don't remind me," Obi-Wan said with a mock sigh.
As they shared a good-natured laugh, they heard the door to their room open. They both turned around to see Rex walk in, his worried expression creating all sorts of ridges and lines of tension across his aged face. His bushy white beard was gone, making way for a clean shaved appearance that reminded Obi-Wan and Ashoka of how he'd looked during the Clone Wars.
"It's good to see you feeling better, sir," the old Clone acknowledged with a nod. He smiled over to Ahsoka who did a quick spin, bringing into view her injured lekku. "You too, Ahsoka. "Mon Mothma invites you both to join the awards ceremony that's about to take place."
"Not to be honored I hope?" Obi-Wan asked with his trademark smirk and inquiring tone.
"As per your request, the only recipients will be Luke, Solo, and Chewbacca," Rex said. "You should have seen the High Commands faces when they realized they'd have to make a medal for a two-meter-tall Wookie."
"They'll need a ladder to put it around his neck." Ahsoka joked.
All three friends shared a much-needed laugh. After years, decades of fighting, they all knew that a world without laughter was not a world worth fighting for.
"Let me get dressed and I'll be right down," Obi-Wan told Rex as the old master went to find his Jedi robes.
"Yeah give us our privacy, Rex," Ahsoka scowled sarcastically, shooing him towards the door. "I think you need to tell the High Command how stupid it is to remain on Yavin now that the Empire knows there's a base here."
"I guess 'celebration' comes before 'being-annihilated-by-a-fleet-of-Star-Destroyers' in their mind," Rex said jokingly as he exited the room, leaving the two Jedi to get ready for the ceremony.
Vader stood motionless as the remaining tribe members were gathered at the center of their village. His arms were crossed, his imposing silhouette posing a stark contrast against the white of the snow-covered planet he'd been sent to.
Fraze was one of many Outer-Rim worlds the Empire had colonized because of its abundance of natural resources, in this case: Tibanna gas. However, over the past few weeks, the warriors of the native tribes, known as the Tuyees had carried out sabotage missions on Imperial installations, slowing down the production line and causing many casualties.
The Emperor had personally dispatched Vader and the 501st Legion to make sure the attacks stopped and the natives were neutralized. After much painful investigation through the harsh winter climate, Vader and his troops had finally found the Tuyees' home base. Since they'd managed to catch them off guard, the fighting didn't last long.
All the Tuyees were huddled together, stoically taking the Snowtroopers shouts and threats. Their white faces matched the snow around them, only distinguishable by streaks of purple that formed different patterns on their faces. They were underdressed compared to Vader's troops but since they'd spent hundreds of years living on such an unforgiving planet, it wasn't really a surprise that they'd develop a resistance to the cold.
Vader impassively cast his eyes over the couple hundred Tuyees before him. He saw the terror in the eyes of the women and children, the resignation in the eyes of the elders, and the unflinching defiance in the eyes of the young, the ones who's decided to start this rebellion in the first place. The latter were kept apart from the others, bound and under heavy guard since even now they tried to break free of their restraints.
Vader's troop-commander approached him, gave a brief salute and delivered his report:
"Lord Vader, we've searched the entire village and have found no other natives. However, we did find this…"
He gestured over to two of his men who brought forward a large weapons crate containing several high-powered rifles, explosives and climbing gear. But what truly made Vader's anger flare was the seal of the Rebel Alliance stamped on the top of it.
"How many more are there?" Vader asked.
"About ten crates or so." the head-commander replied.
"Destroy them," Vader ordered, his tone carrying a deathly hollow tone.
"Yes my Lord." the head-commander nodded and went away to direct his men.
As he left, a squad captain approached Vader. He delivered a similar salute before saying:
"Lord Vader, a native who claims to be the village elder wishes to speak with you. He says he wishes to negotiate for his people's safety."
Vader shot a glance towards the large group of Tuyee and noticed one who was standing. He had long, wispy white hair that fells to his shoulders. His posture carried the slouch of old age which he corrected with a wooden cane, no doubt an important relic since wood was nearly impossible to find on Fraze. He wore a long woven stole, draped over both his shoulder and falling just below his knees. All the Tuyee around him looked at him with discrete reverence and a glimmer of hope.
"Bring him over," Vader told the squad captain.
"Yes my Lord."
He walked towards the waiting elder as Vader looked in the direction of the young Tuyees who eyed him and his men with nothing but contempt and hatred. There were only about thirty of them but they managed to inflict considerable damage to the Empire's refineries. Vader had been certain that they couldn't have carried out those attacks without outside help, and those crates had confirmed his suspicions. Now all he needed was the person who'd delivered them.
Vader turned to two Snowtroopers who were bringing forward the village elder. His aged eyes didn't waver as he looked up at the towering dark body in front of him, breathing out intermittent puffs of vapor from the slits in his mask.
There was silence between them for several seconds before Vader simply said:
"Speak."
The old Tuyee bowed slightly as if to thank him for letting him have a voice before him. Though he spoke a dialect unique to Fraze, Vader was still able to understand him thanks to the translator that had been built into his new suit. Every word the elder spoke was immediately translated into Basic inside Vader's helmet.
"I thank you, dark warrior, for not inflicting death and pain upon my people. And though I know it will not bring back the dead, nor cure your animosity towards us, I profoundly apologize for the actions that a few of our brothers have taken. But please understand that most that are here are innocent in these matters. We housed them and fed them because they are our people but we never condoned their reckless and senseless actions. I implore you, oh dark warrior, show our souls mercy. Whatever punishment we must face; we are all prepared to accept."
"Like hell we are!" one of the young warriors shouted. His comrades cheered on his protest before being quickly silenced by a rifle butt to the back of the head from the Snowtroopers guarding them.
"Keep quiet boy!" the old man chastised him briskly.
"We do not fear these Hashams, father," the translator wasn't able to find what Hasham meant but Vader could assume it wasn't a praise. "They must pay for what they've inflicted upon Mother Geisha."
"He's your son?" Vader asked the old man, interrupting their argument.
Vader's words had been translated and emitted from his mask the dialect of the Tuyees which the elder understood, looking towards the ground, his eyes in pain.
"He is." the elder confessed. "His name is Karzis. It means 'one who melts the snow'."
Vader breathed out a few puffs of vapor as he observed Karzis, the leader of the rebels, through his red-tinted lenses.
In a flash, the Dark Lord reached out with the Force and picked Karzis up by his neck, leaving him dangling several feet in the air, gasping for breath as the rest of his tribe looked on in terror and despair. They pleaded for Vader to let him go, but Vader simply stepped forward, addressing the entire Tuyee tribe.
"I know you are harboring agents of the Rebellion," Vader's voice cut through the chatter of the natives like a scythe. "Tell me where they are and perhaps I will show mercy and spare this boy's life."
The Tuyees all started shouting, begging for Vader to stop, however, the younger ones only insulted and cursed him with more fervor. The Village Elder dropped down on both knees, his forehead pressed against the snow, reciting prayers and begging for Vader's mercy.
Vader's eyes moved over the different members of the Tuyee tribe before finally settling on the young man he was holding up in the air. His white complexion was starting to turn purple from the lack of oxygen, his eyes glazing over. Vader released his hold on the Karzis' neck but kept a firm grasp on the rest of his body with the Force, rendering him immobile.
"Where are they?" Vader asked monotonically, not a shred of empathy in his voice.
"Ratto oct tuv, Hasham!" the young warrior replied fiercely before spitting directly onto Vader's helmet.
It seemed like time had slowed to a crawl. That single spit seemed to last an eternity as everyone realized the severity of what had happened. The captured Tuyees all shouted and cursed Karzis' foolishness as the Village Elder bowed at Vader's feet and continued to apologize. The other young Tuyees predictably cheered their leader on, also spitting into the snow in Vader's direction. Even Vader's own troops got visibly edgy, being fully aware that Vader would never forgive this sort of slight.
Vader didn't do anything for several seconds. He couldn't feel it but he imagined the spit on his helmet slowly tracing a line of fluid till it eventually ran out of substance or fell off the edge of his helmet. He watched the young boy's smug grin, pleased to have shown his rebellious spirit to the end.
In one swift move of his wrist, Vader ignited his lightsaber and cut the young man's legs clean off. The way his face turned from proud to terrified and suffering filled Vader with a strange sense of glee and satisfaction. His two severed limbs fell to the ground and all hell broke loose.
The young man's cries of pain and the Tuyees' cries of terror and anger formed together into a torturous cacophony of screams.
"That's enough!" a voice called out over the chaos.
All eyes turned to the new arrival, the younger Tuyee seeming to recognize him while everyone else watched him incredulously. The man wore a heavy winter coat but underneath it, a white and orange Clone armor could be seen. His features, excluding a long scar that stretched along the left side of his face, matched the template of the Kaminoan Clones bred during the Clone Wars.
The surrounding Snowtroopers all aimed their weapons at him, but the old Clone simply held his hands up and stepped towards Vader, his gaze unwavering and without fear.
"Let him go," he spoke evenly. "I'm the one you want."
Vader paused for several seconds before disengaging his lightsaber. However, he didn't loosen his grip on the elder's son.
"What is your designation?" Vader asked.
"CC-2224. Most people call me Cody."
Vader paused again, weighing this new information. If this had been any other Clone, he would have cut him down on the spot or choked him until he crushed his neck vertebrae, but Vader couldn't bring himself to do it. He tilted his head towards his men who put Cody in cuffs and stood guard over him.
Vader had what he'd come for. Now he could leave…
The Dark Lord looked back to the still hovering, legless body of the young Tuyee warrior. He was barely conscious, muttering strange words that his father repeated as well.
Vader reignited his lightsaber, and in one swift motion, cut the Tuyees body from shoulder to waist, letting his severed corpse fall to the ground.
"Kill them all." Vader told his commander, his tone cold and distant.
The commander had to move closer to give his response over the unbearable cries and screams. Cody wrestled against the guards who held ààhim away; the other Tuyee warriors were doing the same.
"You fucking monster!" Cody yelled.
"Ratto oct tuv, Hasham!" the Tuyees screamed, not just the younger ones.
Vader's commander leaned in closer to Vader to ask:
"Sir, the enemy has surrendered. Any further hostilities towards them would be a direct violation of the rules of engagement— "
He couldn't finish his sentence as he felt he was having difficulty breathing. He grasped for his throat as Vader towered over him, eyeing him through the cold lenses of his mask.
"Eliminate them, or I will do it myself; with you and your troops alongside them."
Vader released the commander and watched as he wordlessly gave the order to his men. The Dark Lord watched unflinchingly the carnage that took place over the next couple of minutes.
FINITO EMILIO! (not sure what that was…)
So yeah… stuff happened pretty much. Any and all thoughts are welcome. Favorites and follows are really appreciated.
Next chapter will be here in under a month… hopefully… don't quote me.