Dark Lord: Bride of Vader

[PistolPete76]

I do not own any of the Star Wars and DC characters and ideas represented in this work.

"Everybody thought of Darth Vader as this big evil guy, that he had no heart, that he was just evil. But in the end it's not that at all. Here's a guy who's lost everything." - George Lucas​

Space. An absence of creation. A void that exists between moons, worlds, stars, nebulae, and entire galaxies. Its dark arms span its cold, merciless reach across the universe itself. So vast is its domain that light from stars themselves reluctantly crosses the trek to reach and transmit their beams of energy to planets so that beings from all directions of life can observe them.

But they only fool themselves; they tell themselves, their friends, family, and children that the stars above exist for the sole purpose of illuminating the universe so that they can traverse it, so that existence would be less dark and less cold. So that they can dream.

This, too, is a lie. The dangerous journey that lights from stars to reach those who oversee them takes so long because of the vast distances that the star transmitting the ray of light could be already long dead after its light has been cast. Beings who gaze at the stars and imagine them as eternal balls of light against the dark are only kidding themselves. Because that very star that they are looking at right above may not even exist anymore.

Many things could have happened to it. It may have gone supernova, turned into a lesser star, a former fraction of itself, or, maybe rarely, metamorphosed into a black hole, changing and altering reality itself into its own design and will.

All of the causes of a star's death is pointless, for it won't change anything. The star is gone, no longer the glorious dot in the night sky that beings dream of seeing. It is only a shadow of its former self. Existing with no real purpose.

The light it used to shine may still exist, though. But it could abruptly stop at any given moment. Depending on one's location when observing the light, it might take many millennia for the light to cut off. In the same amount of time that led civilizations to rise and fall, religions and cults that might worship the light above might not even know that it is only a trick of reality.

No matter the distance and length of time for the light to die and show the truth of the dark, the light of a dead star is only that—a memory. A memory that will be forgotten by the emptiness of space. Forgotten forever.

While the eternal abyss is one of the cruelest aspects of the universe, there are very few things that rival its own warmless state of existence. Very few of these things are in fact, sentient beings. And a small percentage of those beings are just as cold as space.

These groups of beings were once many, but that was a millennium ago, now there are only two.

A master and an apprentice.

There were, of course, alterations, outliers, and exemptions to this rule. There were pretenders and traitors who wished to make their own dynasty like the ancient Sith. But none of them were as powerful and successful compared to the two current Sith Lords of the modern day.

Darth Sidious, the master of the Sith Order, and his current and most powerful apprentice, Darth Vader. Dark Lords of the Sith.

Both have forged a dream that so many Dark Lords have tried to accomplish, and some even manage to almost accede but ultimately fail: the entire galaxy under Sith rule and the Jedi, their longtime rivals, destroyed. However, this was half the truth, as the entire galaxy wasn't in full control between the unknown regions still consuming the western half of the galaxy and independent governments like Hapes, Hutt Space, and others sitting here and there. But those are only minor footnotes to the grand scheme that was the near millennium of plotting and planning to orchestrate the revenge of the Sith to take full action.

And so was the case with the destruction of the Jedi. Not every Jedi Padawn, Knight, and Master were in the Jedi Temple in Coruscant or fighting the Clone Wars. Some managed to get away, and some were doing assignments in Wild Space or in the regions, among other things. The majority of them, however, went into hiding, their once precious Republic now hating them or simply forgetting them. Forcing them to enter exile. Their temples, their ancient sites, their texts, and so forth were either destroyed or taken by Sith hands.

The very few Jedi left now know what it feels like to be destroyed, what it feels like to have their cherished planets destroyed, much like how the Sith's Korriban or Dromund Kaas were pillaged and looted over centuries. They, too, now know what it feels like to be a memory long forgotten.

The very few Jedi who managed to escape but refused to hide and fight against the Empire only got destroyed. The Dark Side of the Force was too powerful in these so called 'dark times'. In their thousand years of blind arrogance, they allowed themselves to be complacent and let their order be destroyed from the inside out. Their once and beloved 'Chosen One' was the one that helped the Emperor destroy the complacent Jedi. The one who was destined to destroy the Sith and bring balance to the Force only joined the Dark Order and helped enforce the Emperor's shadow grip on the Force itself.

This was the Sith dream, but the dream was starting to unfold.

There has always been resistance and pushback against the Galactic Empire since its creation, From cowardly senators to former traitorous separatist holdouts, resistance and rebellions popped and died occasionally. But the Alliance has proven, just now proven, that it was an established threat, for the small band of rebels now destroyed the Emperor's Death Star. What once was thought impossible by prideful Imperial Officers became possible.

Near what used to be the 'Universe's ultimate weapon' was a lone spinning out-of-control TIE Advance. It spun and spun and spun until it seemed like that was its own meandering purpose until its pilot finally got it back under control.

Its pilot, a legendary one in fact, once was the flaming bright star that used to be Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One. Who might as well have had the power of a star in actuality But now, whatever was left of the 'hero with no fear' was just a memory, with his unlimited potential with it.

This shadow, this memory, Darth Vader, now in the void of space with his personal TIE, was stuck in thought as he flew the starfighter into empty space.

He had failed the Emperor.

There is no doubt that he will be punished for failing to receive the Death Star plans from the rebels. No matter how Vader details the story of the responsibility of this disaster to the incompetent officers and that old fool Tarkin, his master could never let this failure leave. A reassignment to take the Yavin system and destroy the rebels from there seems to be the likely outcome.

Yet despite how Vader should be disappointed in himself for letting the rebels win and failing the Emperor's project, he can't help but feel relieved and prideful at the reality that, finally, he did it.

He killed Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The Jedi master who ruined Vader's dream of taking over the Empire. Who ruined Vader's own body, letting him burn to cinder by a river of fire and forcing the Young Sith Lord to be trapped in his suit. Decades of training himself for a destined confrontation have paid off now. It wasn't spies nor the Inquisitors that brought Kenobi to the fold, but rather the simple old man brought upon himself to meet his fate by Vader's blade. The last of the great Jedi, other than that little green fool, has died.

But in that relief and in that victory, he felt a small sense of terror. For when Vader struck down, the old man who was once his master, Kenobi, disappeared. Only his lightsaber and old robes remain. No blood, no scream, no corpse. The old man willingly let Vader slice him up. The only seeable reason was that he wanted to let those rebels escape in that Correlian YT-1500.

At first, Vader thought the old Jedi had conjured a mind trick—a final attack against the Sith Lord—yet Vader did not sense anything, and his defenses weren't attacked. Anger set in motion that whatever the old Jedi planned worked, and Vader might be powerless to stop it. If only he could reach back to Sidious and explain what happened, his master is sure to know what sort of ancient Jedi technique Kenobi performed. Certainly, he must've learned that one from Yoda.

Another thought entered him when gliding his TIE. The lone rebel pilot that destroyed the Death Star. They had the Force; there was no debate, but whether they were Jedi or not was the real question. He felt their strength and their raw power in it. Unfocused, though, they had so much potential yet wasted it on the pointless rebels.

Perhaps it was a Jedi, after all, some Jedi did join the Alliance, like that old blind fool Rahm Kota or Vader's powerful yet pathetic apprentice. Both are dead now, however, and so are the real Jedi. This needed more investigation when he got to Imperial Space.

Checking to see if his TIE in-built hyperspace drive was damaged, which it wasn't, he primed the hyperdrive with his Navi-computer set in coordinates. The TIE 'boomed' itself out of the abyssal space and into the near-empty world of hyperspace.

Blue shimmering light filled the cockpit, moving and curving like waves in a bright ocean. The trip might take hours, and for that, Vader entered a deep meditative state. His breathing from his respirator filled the small compartment.

Now he needed to wait.

***​

The shaking of the TIE, its alarms screaming out, and the disturbance in the Force worked up Vader's slumber as the TIE rocked back and forth as if it were an enraged Bantha. He gathered himself into reality and got back to the steering wheel. It fought him even when he continued to press controls to keep the situation spiraling to danger.

In a last-ditch effort, before being dragged into a nearby star or planet, Vader threw the TIE out of hyperspace and into the familiar dance of stars circling his cockpit window. It spun while he pressed emergency buttons to get the fighter under his rule.

Yet it defied him when a spark of energy that occurred when the TIE prematurely exited out of hyperspace sparked and connected against Vader's suit. Electricity danced around him as life support systems were being shut down. When the continuity ceased, Vader's mechanical breath drew heavy as the control panel in his chest beeped excessively.

Whether it was a mixture of exhaustion on his part, even though he should be awake with his suit drugs pumping in him, the electrical attack on his suit, forcing it to enter a reactive repair subordinate, or both, it was beyond him. Because drew tired, and his eyelids in his shell of a helmet closed.

The comfortable darkness enveloped him once more.

***​

Captain Kalla, head of one of Mongul the Great's slave ships, only sat in contempt despite his ship's brig being practically full. To some, like Gordanians, Sangtee, Khund, and other races that took part in the particular institution, it was a paycheck waiting to be cashed yet. For Kalla and his men, it was a meager income at best. In the Vega System, they could easily be set for a couple of weeks, Monguls Empire? Days at best.

The cargo on board isn't in really bad condition or consisting of anything no one would want. But for Mongul and his demands, it's never enough. It seems like one could stuff an entire planetary population to a ship and sell it to Mongul and it wouldn't be enough. Because of his games and such he has on Warworld, it seems like Kalla and his crew's effort is wasted when one of their products doesn't even last a single minute in the arena.

As easy as it might sound to skip the sector in pursuit of higher horizons, Kalla found it very difficult when Mongul himself took an interest in him and revered him as the best slave carrying captain in his personal fleet. Though one would suspect Mongul would personally see to it that he would get paid for his efforts, Mongul, especially nowadays, likes to cut costs left and right.

He rubbed his red, hairless chin when deciding whether or not desertion was acceptable rather than getting broke. Currently on his bridge, sitting in his captain's chair, and watching his crew conduct their duties on the ship, one of his crewmen hailed him over. "Hey boss! Think we got something."

Coming out of his doubtful stupor, he walked over to the scanning detection station and asked, "What's it this time?" He asked disinterestedly, thinking it's another freighter filled with hapless space travelers.

His crewmate showed him a screen that indicated a ship near their location, "Got a ship here," He turned to the screen, which digitized more information on their potential prey, "Starfighter size, single occupant, no life support systems," the crew explained, "Huh, never seen a ship that size before with a hyperspace engine before. Getting weird readings on it though."

Kalla clicked a side button that activated a blue holo-scan image of the small ship. With a pod-like capsule as a cockpit, and angled wings that were more like solar panels, the starship floated aimlessly in space. Though he doubted that any being in that ship would be worthy of putting them into the arena, the ship's configuration, however, piqued Kalla's interest. If they were to conjecture that the payment that will be received will be small in this time's delivery to Mongul, then maybe the sale of his interesting small starship would prove otherwise.

"Alright," Captain Kalla said finally and confidently, "bring her in; tell the hangar that they're going to have a guest soon."

"Right boss," the crewmate said and followed as instructed.

Kalla got himself out of the bridge and into the freighter's corridors. When entering the hangar, the small captured fighter was already pulled in by the ship's tractor beam and pulled down by a crane integrated in the ceiling. With a crewmate holding blasters in case the pilot did something funny to only find the pilot unconscious with some interesting cybernetics, he could help but smile as though he could already smell the cash flow.

***​

Darth Vader found himself horizontally inclined, and blinding artificial light pierced his comforting darkness. When opening his eyes, he felt his skin irritated by the glow, and his mouth was hugged by a foreign object. Looking around, when his vision cleared from the blazing whiteness, he found two red aliens in the same room he was in. The foreign object was actually an aspirator, and it was obvious that his helmet was off, explaining the lights bombarding his defenseless gray skin.

"Geez," one alien said, his attention away from the now awake Sith Lord, looking at a hologram of Vader's vitals. "This guy is a more practical toaster than a man."

The other alien shook his head and said, "Krodar the terrible on Warworld? Now that's a toaster."

"Yeah, but looking at one up close and personal is different, you know?"

The other alien messed with medical equipment on a table and replied, "Well, if you're interested in cyborgs, why not be one?"

"Now wait a minute." The alien objected."

This pointless and annoyed banter continued with Vader ignoring the loudmouth aliens and onto the surgical robot arm that was attached to the table he was on and was close to his chest.

Anger brewed in him; no one should ever dare see him without his helmet. Regardless if they were rebels, imperials, or bystanders, no one shall ever see his true face. Their curiosity had fated these aliens to die.

The surgical claw machine shook and then broke apart when Vader gripped it with the force. The sudden explosion made the aliens look at Vader to see their expressions of surprise turn into horror. They gasped when they saw the sickish yellow eyes of the Sith Lord, as if their worst nightmares had been summoned into reality. One went to draw a blaster from his hip, while the other attempted to flee to the door where a nearby communication station was. But both were not successful, for the dark side, as already sealed their fates. Vader held up a hand, and both aliens floated upward; the blaster in one's head dropped to the floor. Now suspended up in the air, before any of the aliens could cry for help or beg for their miserable, pathetic lives to be spared, Vader flicked his wrist, and both of the aliens' necks snapped like twigs.

Their bodies dropping into heaps, Vader, with the respirator that wasn't his own still on, took a moment to search for his own helmet. Finding it across the room, he commanded the force to bring it to his hands. The alien respirator, which sparked a moment of lack of oxygen, was cut short when he put on his mask and sealed it with his helmet cowl. His heavy breathing turned into the cold, steady mechanical breathing he has come to know off.

Now that his well-being is not in question, Vader backpedals on his recent memories in order to figure out what has happened. The last thing he properly remembered was his accident in hyperspace, which led to his cockpit sending a volt of electricity to his suit, which knocked him out of consciousness. Clearly, these aliens took him in and were examining him. He has never seen this species of alien before, but that has no concern for him. What did concern him was that his lightsaber wasn't on his belt anymore. Searching through the force, he found its location somewhere close to where he was, but that wasn't the only thing that he found.

The force felt different. He wasn't quite sure why. Was it the backlash of the destruction of Alderaan, the Death Star? Was it one of Obi-Wan's tricks against the Sith Lord? Vader can't find the answer at the moment, nor will he, as there are more pressing matters to draw attention to.

These aliens dared to be Vader, a Sith Lord, an enforcer of the Emperor's will, and try to dissect him like a bug. Not only that, but they took the lightsaber as well. They should have known better not to disrespect the Empire so blatantly. These aliens won't escape his wrath and judgment. He shall now search to find his lightsaber and take on these aliens. They will, of course, try to resist, but their pathetic weapons are no match for the power of the dark side. For it is now that these scoundrels were bound to a single fate the moment they dared to cross paths against Vader and the Empire.

One fate that the dark side will enforce.

***​

"Captain," The Great Mongul, ruler of his own empire, in this throne world in Warworld, in his grand palace, greeted his prestigious captain on a holo-projecter. "I want you to hear something…"

With a tap of the button on his throne, Mongul sent a recorded message from the arena's latest fight. The sound is a mere aftermath of it; it was the sound of his subjects booing their disappointment after Draaga finished off another worthless opponent. An opponent that, oh, so happened to be the last specimen Kalla brought in.

The red skinned captain shifted his tall collar so he could breathe easier as he heard the cries of disappointment and outrage through the holo-screen. "Great Mongul, please-," Kalla said, raising an arm for forgiveness with his voice adopting an appeasing tone.

Mongul had enough excuses among his top lieutenants. "A dozen creatures you've found," the Warlord snapped with annoyed fury, his voice booming across the holo-transmission. "And not one of them has been able to last more than two minutes with Draaga!"

Kalla pleaded with his lord, "I promise, the next one will be different!" Mongul shifted his look as he stopped his irritation. "He's a cyborg like Krodar the Terrible! With blackened armor that I have never seen before! And a weapon that we've tested that can cut through anything!" Kaala brought a fist forward for a threaticla emphasis, "That will surely give Draaga the fight of his life!"

Mongul arched his hairless, yellow brow and landed on the back of his throne. Kalla will always boast about his catches once in a while. Whether or not to believe in Kalla was in Mongul's mind, "Let me see him then," the warlord demanded to see this cyborg himself.

Kalla bobbled his head up and down excitingly. "Of course, my lord, of course!" The captain pressed a couple of buttons in his own chair, and Mongul assumed he was trying to bring up the screen where this cyborg was. But he didn't when the captain pressed the button over and over again and then hailed over someone off screen, "Where are those two idiots at?!" He barked at his crew, "I ain't getting a single response from those two from the medical bay!"

An off-site crew member replied, "Sir! No one's responding to that part of the ship!"

"What!?" Kalla exclaimed, "Thats not!-" Kalla's voice disappeared and was disrupted when Klaxions yelled all over the bridge and muffled Kaala's surprise.

Mongul tapped his finger over his throne's arm piece. "Kalla," he said annoyingly. "Talk to me, Captain, what's going on?"

Kalla looked back and forth between the holo-projector's camera and something off-screen. He gulped, "The... The cyborg, my lord, he's…"

"Sir!" Kalla's crew yelled out off screen, "He's at the main deck now! He's heading towards the bridge!"

Then a faint but hearable blaster fire could be heard. From the way it sounded and how Kalla looked back at the bridge's main door, it was coming fairly close. "Close the blast doors!" Kalla demanded, "Get's those security robots online!"

One crewmate was the bearer of bad news, "Boss, he already took down the bots."

"What!?" Kalla shook with horror, "Bring up the screen!" Kalla looked something across the room for a moment, and suddenly the alien's crimson-red skin turned a sickly pink with his eyes going open. Because of the security came's proximity to the holo-projector, Mongul could hear louder blaster fire, the sounds of a distinct humming noise of 'swooshing' and the intense cacophony of screaming.

"Now this was getting interesting…" Mongul murmured to himself. Of course, being capable of taking on an entire platoon of his security automa and his men is not noteworthy compared to what Draaga could do, but it was an interesting development nonetheless. He silently motioned for his chancellor, his trusted assistant, to record the holo-transmission so he might watch this again or perhaps even show the footage in the arena.

Kalla looked at Mongul through the holo-projector's camera with abject urgency and terror as his bridge crew got around equipment and bridge stations to train their blasters at the bridge's closed doors, "Please, my lord, send help! My men won't be able to take him!"

Mongul's feature's turned into a sly smile, and he tried to hide the best he could. "Of course, captain, help's on the way. I'll be sending my fatest ships to your location."

"Please, my lord," Kaala begged him, "You have to-" The moment Kaala began his pleading, the sounds of slaughter just outside the bridge went silent. Vaguely, the last poor bastard outside of the bridge seemingly dropped dead with a gurgling sound.

Then the bridge's doors moved forward a bit, as if they had willingly moved. One of the crewmates yelled out, "HE'S COMING IN!!" followed by the bridge flying forward, causing mayhem. Hitting crewmates and turning them into meaty paste or destroying control stations, one of the doors pointed straight towards the holo-projector, which caused the camera to fall out of place. The camera swayed from side to side, making the picture of the battle murky as the video feed buzzed with interference.

Mongul shifted himself forward to get a better picture. Despite the buzzing, the feeding coming in and out from clarity, and it's angle pointed downward to the floor, he could hear the battle regardless. Blasters firing all around, crewmembers yelling and screaming at each other, and whatever this cyborg was, what might have been the cyborg's weapon was active as he heard it 'whoosing' and 'weaving' around the scream of the crew. He heard the unmistakable sounds of heavy footsteps being made with mechanized breathing as well. The crew begged and pleaded with the cyborg as less and less blaster fire was made.

"Please don't NOO!"

"Wait WAIT!"

"I have a family!" one screamed out, "I HAVE A FAMI-AHHH!" All of their pleadings were cut down by the cyborg's weapon.

Unfortunately, when it was getting interesting, the feed finally gave up and the screen turned from a buzzing blurry image to a "Transmission Lost" image popping up on the holo-screen.

Mongul whirled his face at his chancellor, who was already trying to get the feed back, and spook through his earpiece comlink that was linked to the communications center, working their damn best to get Mongul's show back on track. He waited for at least thirty seconds by tapping his throne chair and drinking some wine from his goblet. Finally, the feed got back to the ship's bridge.

Despite the camera pointed at an angle where it would only show the floor and maybe the crememebr's waist and below, he saw enough. Bodies littered the floor, limbs smoking from cauterized stumps where they used to connect to people. Bodies with no arms or legs, everything chopped into bite-sized pieces. A thin layer of smoke lingered on the floor. There was no more blaster fire, no more screaming or whining. There is no life other than two.

When the camera regained control of itself, it's view showed two beings in front of it's sensor, though with its angle only the legs were shown. One being was most definitely not part of his crew, for it was covered in black polished armor. With gleaming black metallaic boots and padded black fabric material and a black cape touching the floor behind it, the being stood tall as its waist, and below was the only thing seeable at the moment. The mechanical sound of a breathing apparatus, with its heavy inahles and exhales, was the dominant sound in the bridge. The other being was suspended right in front of this cyborg, its legs trying to find ground with the sounds of choking that Mongul is very familiar with. From the uniform, Mongul knew that his other was, in fact, Kalla, most likely getting his life choked out of him by the cyborg.

Very interesting, or, to be more accurate, entertaining.

The cyborg finally spoke, its voice a hard and deep one with a layer of mechanical boom. "What system am I in? What sector have you taken me in!?" The cyborg demanded in a cold yet angry manner.

Kalla, with his face above the screen and being strangled, whimpered out, "We've…picked you up…on the end…of the omega…quadrant!"

"That has no meaning to me! Where is the nearest point of Imperial space!?"

"I…don't know…what.." Kalla tried to gasp for air, but it was fruitless. "Don't know what you're…t-talking about."

The cyborg paused and, understanding, said, "Then you have no use for me." Then Mongul heard the audible sound of a 'snap' that closely resembled the sound of a twig breaking. Followed by Kalla's lifeless body dropping onto the metal floor.

The cyborg stood there for a few moments and turned his body towards the camera. The camera, floated up to the cyborg's hand, to finally show the black figure's face.

"Psionic powers?" Mongul said inwardly, "How intriguing."

The camera, still rather buzzy, transmitted through interstellar space from what used to be Kaala's ship to Mongul's thrown room so that it could pixelate a picture of the figure. And it was glorious.

Holding the camera up to his face, the cyborg, like his bottom half, wore nothing but shiny, polished black armor. The mask had the same appearance of a skull, with two black glossy eye pieces, curved metallic cheekbones, a sunken nose piece, and grill vents that could be mistaken for teeth. All of it was topped off with an angled helmet cowl covering all but the front of the face. Below the neck was a chain that held together the black cape that was on top of the mantle of hardened armor.

By the looks of the cyborg and the skills that were shown in the slaughter, he would be a crowd-pleaser for sure!

"If there are eyes behind this camera," the cyborg said, "Then I demand them to speak!"

And straight to the point. "Well," Mongul replied back, "This is rather unexpected. May I ask whom I am talking to?"

The cyborg went silent for a moment, "I am Darth Vader, if that gains back your memory."

Never heard of him, "I'm sorry but that name doesn't ring a bell," he introduced himself. "I'm Mongul, Lord of Warworld. I'm sure you've heard of me?"

The cyborg, this Darth Vader, let his mechanical inhale and exhale cycle through before speaking, "Your name has no relevance to me, but your affiliation with these bandits will."

"Bandits?" Mongul repeated, "Well now, a hard and bold claim, the men you ruthlessly slaughtered were simply cargo transported in my personal fleet, surely you-,"

"THESE MEN!" The cyborg rudely interrupted Mongul, anger spewing, "Took in a loyal servant of the Emperor and tried to use me to their advantage and for that, they deserved death for their crimes against the Empire!"

"Do you know how little that narrows it down?" Mongul bluntly objected, "Do you know how many emperors and empires there are in the galaxy?"

"There is only ONE Emperor and ONE Empire!" Darth Vader stated, "Your ignorance proves your lack of usefulness, and whatever planet you're from will suffer against the Empire's wrath!"

Mongul grinned, he will no doubt make Darth Vader pay for being rude amongst his presence, yet he will make sure his subjects will see it, for a fantastic show. Yes he will indeed. "I'm sure you will do that, Darth Vader."

The cyborg didn't reply, the last thing the camera caught before it was destroyed was Darth Vader's black glove hand pressing its fingers on the lenses, then buzzing out of existence with a crackle, and then a "Transmission Lost" sign appearing.

***
Notes
Yep, another JLU Star Wars fanfic, this time involving Darth Vader, who clearly will involve Queen Maxima of Almerac soon. I just thought it would be fun. See a lot of vader fics but feel like they make him too sympathetic, I know vader is kinda like that but I feel too many fics just make him an anti-hero when clearly he isn't in the main story. You'll see a lot of fics have Vaader free slaves or whatever and that's fine but I feel like that's too much of Anakin when we know that he struggles to keep that side of him dead. Comments are appreciated. This will draw upon Legends and Canon. We will definitely see Vader change up the DCAU universe for better or worse. See ya!​

 

[PistolPete76]

I do not own any of the Star Wars and DC characters and ideas represented in this work.​

Vader crushed the camera and dropped its broken pieces on the floor, where they landed on the captain's corpse. He stood in his own thoughts while observing the carnage he brought upon the crew of pirates. Machinery and control equipment were ruined, stained by blaster bolts, flaring sparks, and now drying alien blood.

A thin layer of blaster smoke plagued the bottom of the floor, as well as the putrid smell of death. The bridge stunk of burned flesh. Limbs, heads, and halved torsos scattered around the bridge, as did most of the ship, where the bandits feebly mounted a defense against the Dark Lord. The would-be defenders and their strangely built security droids were no match to Vader's power and knowledge of the dark side.

They all deserved it, he thought, and they all dared to unmask him. To reveal Vader's damaged body to the galaxy. They dared to sell an Imperial ship for, no doubt, drinking and gambling money. They dared to defy the Empire, and for that, they died a gruesome death.

As for this Mongul and his Warworld, Vader has never heard of this ruler. As strange a name as it is, it was possible that somehow this world was either not on Imperial records or was actually somewhere along Wild Space or the Unknown Regions, yet when Vader pushed in his coordinates for his hyperspace jump, he was far away from that part of galactic space.

Perhaps he did land in an uncharted part of space, after all, it was a known part of the Outer Rim, and it wasn't totally unheard of to see new star systems found in this part of the galaxy. Yet…Vader had the foreboding feeling that was incorrect.

Looking around to see if there were any stations he could use, he found one control center that was undamaged, which he skeptically deduced was the captain's controls. Though Vader had remarkable skills in engineering and piloting, being able to pilot a ship of almost any size without any prior training in its specific configuration, he found the alien's controls strange and had to dedicate time to knowing what button did what. The controls weren't part of any galactic standard of usage, he realized.

Pressing a few buttons and touch screens, he made a holo-image appear out of the captain's control desk. The projection was simulated out of the holo-projector emitter that birthed a blue simulacrum of the galaxy into existence. But when Vader studied the ship's location, where it blinked in and out of its current position, he realized it was a galaxy, not THE galaxy.

"That's…not possible…" he said out loud, though no one but the corpses heard Vader's vulnerable line.

He studied the holo-map even more to find anything noteworthy, any landmark or pattern of stars and nebulae he recognized. Yet he found none. It can't be, how is that possible! He desperately pressed a button to cycle through the hologram, hoping that the strange image of this galaxy was just uploaded by the bandits and the real one is in the archives. He didn't find the galaxy he is so used to. He cycled through shipping lanes, flight logs, cargo specifications, and other meaningless information.

Nothing, absolutely nothing.

He panicked, his cybernetic breathing becoming erratic. This can't be, this is no possible way he is stranded in another galaxy. He whirled his head toward the bridge's elongated window. Rushing across the graveyard that happened to be a control bridge, his eyes went through his Sith helmet and darted to the star infested space. From memory, he was attempting to locate any star arrangement that triangulated his position.

He searched and searched and searched. He forgot how long he looked through the window, minutes? Hours? It didn't matter, it led to the same conclusion.

He's not in his home galaxy.

Even if he was somehow stranded in one of the nearby dwarf galaxies, he should've been able to detect any recognizable star constellations. All of it was unknown to him. Somehow, the hyperspace jump he made transported him to another distant galaxy, possibly on the far side of the universe. Maybe not even that, maybe he is in a completely different universe altogether.

There were myths about hyperspace travel unintentionally bringing ships to different realms of reality or even different points in time. They were myths, of course, and were based on fairy tales, yet, looking out through the window, through the force as well, this fairytale happened to be too real for Vader's comfort.

In a last effort to actually believe he isn't in his home galaxy, he stretched out his feelings and attempted to call out to his master.

"Master, are you there?"

The force replied with only a nerving silence.

"Master, I am lost."

Nothing

"Master…I need your assistance."

Nothing

"Master," he said urgently, "Master!…MASTER!"

The last pleading voice to call Sidious was so intense through the force that he rocked the ship as if caught in an earthquake. The rumble stopped for a couple of seconds and left Vader alone.

Sidious, his master, his teacher, isn't there. Even with a call like that, Sidious should at least feel that. But the force stayed silent and still as an untouched pond. Vader cannot believe he's lost, he's gone. He gets stuck in a foreign part of whatever section of the universe or reality and is not able to get back to his galaxy. His galaxy, which he fought for so long, he will never be able to see again.

He will not be able to see the fruit of his labors, every accomplishment he made, was useless now. Rage built up in him, the fiery furnace that was his heart got so hot that it became an inferno through the eyes of the force.

Everything Darth Vader has done now, means nothing. Every sacrifice, every action, and every promise he carried were useless. All of the things he did in the name of safety, security, justice, and peace were just as useful and memorable as putting a toe in a sandy beach and letting the waves fade away. The deaths he inflicted, the lives he should've taken but didn't—mean nothing.

The ship was now shaking as if a huge pair of hands were wobbling it back and forth. The window of the bridge started to spiderweb a crack, machinery whined with sparks, and flames erupted. The bones of the still slain deceased became brittle and their organs liquified, their bodies popping in showers of gore like balloons due to the intense pressures building up. The eye of this invisible, horrible storm was Vader.

A possible cause of his abandonment entered his cloudy mind, which was smothered by the smoke of his furnace heart. Perhaps he wasn't stuck in the far corner of creation; maybe this was an illusion of the mind. A trick created by the old Jedi as a final act of defiance. He conjured a powerful summoning of the force onto Vader and made the Sith Lord go into a force-induced coma, only to have this reality be actually a dream.

He wanted to believe it; he wanted that to be reality. He wanted to believe that it was Obi-Wan, the same man who ruined Vader's life and the cause of his eternal torment, who had the last laugh. He wanted someone to hate. He wanted to hate the Jedi Master. even more. But even a second after the inception of the theory began, he knew that it was nothing but a fallacy, and that only enraged his flaming heart.

Everything he meant did not have a single meaningful purpose. Everything he did for Padme…

Padme.

That name echoed in his head with the sorrowful voice of Anakin Skywalker. The secret wife of the Jedi Knight staggered Vader, almost making him fall, and his fiery heart was almost extinguished.

Everything he did for her, the betrayal of the Jedi Order, killing all of the younglings that were inspired by him, all of the friends he grew up with, the masters he had respected, was just a hollow act now. Betraying his brother, Obi-Wan, the man who trained him his whole life meant nothing. Disappointing Qui-Gon, the Jedi master that thought the young boy from Tatooine to be the Chosen One and believed in the boy while the Jedi council doubted him, that meant nothing.

His enthrallment to the dark side and his loyal servitude to Darth Sidious was in purpose for her, to save her and their unborn child.

All of that was worth nothing. She died, for nothing.

In the end, he was nothing, less than nothing, a nobody.

He raged and screamed, his heart becoming a supernova of unbridled fury. The vocoder in his helmet sent out bastardized sounds of his sorrowful moans and cries. The ship shook violently and would have been virtually imploded onto itself if it weren't for Vader stopping when realization set upon him like a heavy boulder. When he realized what was going on.

He realized, after the blazing inferno of his being stopped, that the weakness of Anakin Skywalker had infiltrated his soul. A shining light, that blazing warm star that Anakin Skywalker once was, emitted a great illumination that broke through the umbra that was Vader's shadow and beaconed against the black veil.

This wasn't the first time that happened, there were a few moments in Vader's life when the memories of Anakin's life came back to him, though those few times of relapse can be counted on a single hand. The only time this light almost consumed Vader's shadow was the duel he had with Anakin Skywalker's former apprentice, Ahsoka Tano, on Malachor.

The brightness that broke through the darkness in the moment had three different shades of light. One shade had the voice of the young Tatooine born boy that dearly loved his mother and cherished racing and the world of droids. Another, was the young man who spent his teenage years at the Jedi temple with the man he loved as a brother. The last was the man who bravely fought in the Clone Wars, fighting for what the Republic stood for and to protect his Padawan, his brother, and his wife with their unborn child.

The light struck back against the dark, and Vader knew the origins of this light. It was a star, but not a living one, a dead one, in fact. A star that doesn't exist anymore. A star by the name of Anakin Skywalker. He's dead, Vader killed him. The memories of the weak Jedi Knight had no meaning to Vader. The light of the dead star was just a memory, an illusion. The mirage had no real power over the dark and the abysmal darkness that made up Vader's universe swallowed the memory of the star.

Vader threw the pathetic boy from Tatooine into the shadowy abyss and the boy screamed out to his mother. Then, he sent down the weak young Jedi along with him, calling out Obi-Wan for help. Finally, he sent the final fragment of the fool, Anakin Skywalker, down to the dark, the man yelled for Padme but his voice was consumed by the blackness of Vader's shadow, and his scream echoed into nothing.

The star that Anakin Skywalker was now extinguished, but his light still persisted, even if faintly. Vader's universe took in the light and gathered his cold darkness onto it. The light grew smaller and smaller until it became a speck of mediocrity.

The light was defeated, but for how long? Vader couldn't say.

Now, with his Sith resolve restructured, he only stood like a statue at the broken alien bridge. He only thought of what he could do now. There was no technology or piece of machinery that he could think of that would bring him back to his galaxy, and doubts about the state of hyperspace would help either. There was no force technique that could bring him out of this dilemma he knew of, if there was, Sidious would know it, and he would predictably keep it a secret, away from Vader.

There was nothing he could do about it, and nothing to do.

There was no galaxy he knew, no empire to protect, no rebellion and cowardly insurgents to crush, no Jedi to hunt, and no Inquisitors to put in place. No Sidious to follow and obey every word of his command. There are no ancient Sith sites to explore and discover new power.

No past Vader to have. The only thing he had in this new realm was himself, his TIE fighter, and the darkness.

Seemingly and almost unconsciously, he exited out of the messy bridge at a walking pace and drifted through the ship. All of the bandits were dead, and their security droids were in broken heaps where they fell. Walking through the ship's corridors, he only reminisced at the destruction he caused when he exited the medical bay and reached their bridge.

Blaster marks painted across the hallways, bodies of dead crewmembers dismembered or crushed, and some both at the same time, of course, littered the corridors. Security droids placed on the floor, shut down prematurely forever by Vader's blade, force pushes and crushes, or redirected blaster bolts.

A ghost ship.

That description was an apt one, for when walking around, he felt the dread crew's emotions that echoed through the force from the time they met their graves. Despair, fear, and disbelief all meshed in a miasma in the force. But then he noticed how most of it wasn't just echoes of former alive bandits, but from now alive beings.

Following the invisible trail, it led him to a door where the array of emotions came from. The doors slid open by his force-powered command, and it showed him a long rectangular room. Mostly empty, the room had no special equipment other than crates, cattle prods of some sort, and pre-packaged food stuff.

That was what Vader detected initially when he entered the room when he heard several voices of moaning. The sounds were made by different voices, a somewhat male variety, that had multiple tones to it including ones of pure exhaustion, frustration, and even some crying. The origins of these voices and the discovered force aura of sentient beings, led Vader to a grate that was parallel to the longways of the room.

Stepping on the edge where the solid floor met the metal grate, he saw that the voices of defeat were coming down below, where multiple different sentient aliens made them. Some humanoid and near-human, others are bipedal, tripedal, or quadrupedal. Some adorned in casual spacer clothing, others hinted of a barbarian fashion. Most observed looked sentient, while a few seemed uncivilized at best, and a very few of them were practically beasts.

All of these aliens were binded by their either hands or other appendages by a primitive looking cable chain by the wall. With their hands on the wall, most were slumped down. The reason how Vader can see all of these details was because the way of the top layer of the room illuminated that portion of the bottom layer, casting the squared, grated pattern onto the aliens.

Vader deduced that this must've been the ship's brig, or a dungeon, by the crude way it is used. A question entered his mind while only staring at the imprisoned aliens below, were these criminals? Were they here to be judged, and the crew here that he slaughtered weren't bandits but in fact law enforcement officers? Were they really just following orders by this Mongul character to transport these beings who might as well look like pirates and scum?

He knocked that question out of his mind. Even if they were criminals and the crew were officials of a justice system, the alien crew made a simple but deadly mistake of capturing Vader. And for that, they paid with their own lives.

An idea entered his head, if the ship's computers won't tell him where he is, then perhaps one of them can. Glancing up to see a control console next to the grate, he waves his hand, and the grate disappears into a slit, opening the full light to this dungeon.

He jumped downward and the ground shook for a moment. Even though it should have woken up the chained aliens, barely any of them took notice, except for one. The alien lazily woke up his eyes and drew them forward to where Vader now stood. All of his color washed away and eyes almost popped out.

"M-mm-mm Monster!" He stuttered out his horror. The alien tried to move his arms but it looked like the chains had an internal anti-escape mechanism that shocked its holder, for when the alien tried to wiggle out the bondage, a spark of electricity enveloped him and made him cry in pain. Though still alive and awake with smoke coming from him, he still showed his terror at the Sith Lord.

An alien beside him, woke up from the commotion, with an annoyed expression and would have said, "Hey, keep it down, lug, I'm trying to sleep!" But he too saw why the other alien got spooked when he laid his own four eyes onto Vader. Which he too also screamed in terror, but louder, attempted to break out with sudden urgency and then predictably got shocked.

That caused all of the aliens to get out of their stupor and see what was causing all of the noise, only to see Vader's shadowy presence in the middle of the dungeon. They all shook, screamed, and gawked in their own ways. Some of the beasts woke up as well and whimpered like dogs when they saw Vader. To all of the prisoners, it would seem as if a wraith of horrible proportions had been summoned by whatever deity they believed in to torture them and saw that the ship's lights refused to depart his dark presence.

The storm of screaming, hallowing, wallows of pain, desperate praying, and complaints of aliens soiling themselves had ended Vader's patience. "ENOUGH!" His voice shook the dungeon, and all of the chained aliens ceased. They still gawked and shook in fear because of him, but absolutely none of them dared to speak.

With the only sound being made was his mechanical respirator, he turned his head around the dungeon to spot any being worthy of his questioning. Going between barbarians and horrified aliens, his eyes within his ebon mask set on one particular individual that looked somewhat like he can converse.

Chained up like the others, the captive was a male alien that had the features of a canine. Slightly taller than average and skinny, he had orangish brown fur with a Mohawk out of the same fur that covered his body. He wore an athletic bodysuit that suggested he was a work laborer before being abducted. The noticeable feature was his three sets of tusk on his face. One pair protruded out of his lips like the saber tooth of a feline predator. The other set sat at where his muzzle mouth met his cheek bones with the last but smaller set behind it the other one, both of them pointing forwards out from his face.

A simple gesture was made and the dog's bindings were released. Shock of the Dark Lord was replaced with surprise, then brief joy as the dog rubbed his now free tender hands. That joy was then overtaken by trembling fear when Vader went forward to the dog and stood tall while the dog was still on the ground.

"Your name?" Vader asked.

The dog shook as if he was unbearably cold and gulped, "La-Larfleeze."

"And the cause of your bondage?"

The frightful Larfleeze didn't say anything for a moment, "Slavery, d-dark one."

Slavery, the practice, echoes in Vader's mind. It would seem no matter where he goes, it was a practice everyone commits. In the near twenty years in service of the Empire and the Emperor, Vader has seen slavery used on different occasions. Once it was banned by the hypocritical Republic and ignored by the arrogant Jedi, the practice existed outside of Republic space like on Tatooine or Zygerria. Even then, some senators turned a blind eye when it happened in their systems if they got some of the profit.

But all of that changed when the Empire rose. Now the practice was served for the greater good, used to manufacture weapons, supplies, equipment, Imperial bases and so forth. He remembered that during the first early days of the Empire, the Wookies of Kashyyyk staged an uprising against the Empire. Defeated afterwards of course, most of the wookies paid for their betrayal against the Empire in servitude, a good portion of which worked on the Death Star.

That is the same fate to whoever was disloyal to the Emperor. Pirates, smugglers, criminals, dissidents, insurgents, and rebels. Those who weren't killed by their insolence, were then put to work by the Empire. They deserved it, all of them. Atleast, that's what he hoped.

Hope.

That word burned him for a moment, and knew where the source of that heat was from. The little speck of memory that was the light of Anakin Skywalker's star pierced through the black veil once more. A shard of the light was a little slave boy who promised to free his still enslaved mother before he left her. Another shard was the young Jedi who wanted to free his mother and all of the slaves of the galaxy, but the Jedi Order wouldn't approve of it. The final one was the Jedi Knight who fought in the Clone Wars so that everybody could be free, every being could live in their own way and control their own destinies.

Vader recognized the light and also its strengths. He saw the sparking fear of the young boy, he saw the seething anger in the young Jedi who failed to save his own mother, and saw the burning hatred of the Jedi Knight, who had all of the power but couldn't save those who he loved.

He knew all of this was Anakin Skywalker's.

Vader considered using this strength of the Jedi Knight but caught himself. If he considered using Skywalker's hatred of slavery for his own purpose, he would admit that the foolish weak Jedi had strength, that he had power. Anakin Skywalker was weak. If he recognized this source of this anger, it would be the Jedi's form of compassion to those who were enslaved.

What happened to the Jedi in his past held no relevance to Vader. And for compassion, there was no ounce in strength that lies in that emotion.

He pitched the flame of Anakin's light and covered it in his void. The light of that dead star is only a speck in Vader's infinite bleak night again. The annoyance of that light sparking in moments of Vader's vulnerability deepens his anger but he could only cloud that light, destroying it, he found out was a difficult task. A task he will have to solve later.

Coming back to reality, he saw that Larfleeze was shaking more not because of fear like he was cold, he was shaking because he was actually cold. Huddling to himself and his breath seen, though he did not say anything about it. The cause of this would have been Vader's continued anchoring himself into the dark had extinguished whatever little warmth the dungeon had. All the captives as well were shivering and trying to retain some semblance of comfort against the near freezing dungeon.

Vader returned his gaze back to the cold Larfleeze, "Why have all of you been enslaved, then?"

Larfleeze, somewhat stiffed from the cold and terror, shivered out, "B-b-because, I h-have been in servitude in all I-I can r-remember." He was saddened despite the terror before him. "All of them," he looked at the rest of the slaves, "Captured by M-Mongul's men, I-I think we're bound to Warworld."

"This Mongul," Vader questioned, "Rules this Warworld, correct?"

Larfleeze nodded his head, "Y-ye-yes, he runs these games I've heard," he shook his head, "N-never seen them before, but heard they were bloody. I feel like we would be part of them."

"Why would this Mongul host such nonsense?"

"I…" Larfleeze paused, "don't know," he admitted, "I s-suppose entertainment for h-his subjects, but I don't know."

Darth Vader took a moment in himself as he absorbed the dog's information. If he is to be totally believed, which he was telling the truth, then all of these beings had been abducted by this Mongul in order to play these "games" for his subjects. He probed the minds of the slaves and found no wrongdoing or any crime worthy of slavery at any rate. They were simply plucked from whatever moon, planet, space station and slave market they called home.

Now, Vader asked the question to himself; what to do with them now?

Killing all of them would have been the simpler and easier choice. Yet none of them deserve the ending from his blade or their destruction from his dark side powers. None of them were associated with this Mongul, and none of them were rebels of any sort, seeing how he wasn't in his galaxy one way or the other. No, he thought, killing them might be easier for sure, but he would also be wasting and mismanaging resources. Resources that haven't proved a threat to him, yet.

He stood there like a statue, minutes went by with his breathing echoing in the dark, freezing the dungeon while the slaves stayed silent in fear.

He made up his mind, "Perhaps then," Vader said, gaining all of the slaves' attention, "That is a fate none of you shall meet…if you choose to follow me." He points to himself and announces, "I am Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith, I have the power to free all of you, but in exchange, you would have to obey my every command and follow my orders by the letter. If you do so, then maybe all of us will escape this Mongul."

All of the alien slaves thought about the proposal made by the Dark Lord. Some of them murmured to each other and themselves, others stood in silence or only stared at the Sith. One of them spoke out, "And if we don't want to go with yer?"

Vader moved himself to the slimy chained up alien, and simply said, "If you don't, then two things will happen. I leave you here to rot in your own filth," he leaned in closer to the alien who recoiled back against the wall, trying not to move excessively or else he could get shocked, "Or…the same fate your captors met," he warned, "Will be yours."

The alien nodded grimly and understood the price of any wrong answers. A few moments of silence between the aliens, Larfleeze summoned the courage to speak his answer, "Yes! My Lord!" He pledged with sudden energy and kneeled before Vader, "I will do whatever you ask of me for my freedom!"

That response of bravery on Larfleeze's part sent a chain reaction amongst the slaves, then one by one, after that all of them spoke their answers. All of them said yes. To those uncivilized and beasts-like, they understood the variety of the emotions and the menacing nature of Vader. They howled or barked in acceptance of this deal.

Fear and respect was a universal language.

Satisfied with all of their responses, he commanded upon the force onto the control panel on the top floor, a lever and a button released followed by all of the electrical sensors to the chain shutting down, then all of the chains altogether snapped open.

All of them rubbed their hands, appendages, or tentacles with relief and joy. They looked onto Vader and thanked him with a "Thank you my lord!" Or a roughed out "Thanks boss!" Or garbled whatever howl, bark, click, and buzzing they can summon. All thanked him, all but one.

"No," one stated, one with a look and stature of a barbarian humanoid.

All of the thanking and praise ceased, the free slaves whirled their heads at the point of origin of the voice with sudden offense, as if he spoke blasphemy at that moment. They all stared at him and back at Vader, fearing what the Dark Lord might have in store next, for they saw his power of using the force and possibly cannot comprehend his warlock magic.

Larfleeze went to the side of Vader at a respectable distance and said with a pleading tone, "M-my Lord, forgive him, he is Okaaran," he explained, "They don't believe in words very much and believe in action of combat, please he-,"

Vader simply lifted his hand up to stop Larfleeze and the dog did so on command. Keeping his attention full on this Okaaran. With a blue-skinned burly body, brutish looks, and two short tusks that left the bottom of his lip, the Okaaran stood stall and defiant. Vader asked, "No…what?"

Okaaran barked out, "No, I will not follow unless you fight me!"

Vader narrowed his eyes to the blue brute, "You question my strength, yet you do not see how I slaughtered your enslavers…the same men that captured you. You doubt my authority yet you said 'yes' to my deal."

The Okaaran gritted his teeth, "I demand to fight you because my people believe in strength through action!" The brute strongly stated. "I let myself get captured so I can fight in Warworld to prove myself! If you want me to follow you, then prove it to me why I should!" He then puffed out his chest and entered a fighting stance.

Apparently, Vader's words weren't clear enough.

"So…" he said coldly, "You forfeit my deal then?"

"Yes!" The brute replied, anticipating a fight he thinks he will get.

"And challenge my authority…"

"I challenge anyone who thinks they are worthy of being above me."

Vader and no one else said anything, a pause that seemed eternal entered. The Dark Lord only slightly nodded and raised a hand, "Then…you will get your challenge."

The Okaaran, smirking, thinking that he will get a fight for his life, unknowingly to him, it's a fight not in the terms he thought of. Suddenly he was suspended in the air, floating against his will. Before any of the free slaves and the brute could make a sound, Vader curved his hand and the Brute's upper body went completely backward. His back met his thighs as his body made an upside down, unnatural 'U' shape and created a wet 'snap'!

The body collapses onto the frozen floor and all of the ex-slaves stood completely still. "Are there any of you!…" Vader's voice boomed in the dungeon and the slaves put their frightened eyes on him, "Wish to join the side of this brute?!" He points at the mangled corpse in show of the aliens. All of them shook their heads. "Very well." He said, satisfied.

He gestures a black gloved hand and telekinetically activates a platform integrated with the grated bars above. It went down with its hydraulic rails built into the wall and Vader placed both hands on his belt. "Let this be your first order from me. Your captors are dead and this ship is in need of repair. Your tasks will be to clean the mess and dispose of the bodies through the airlock. Then fix the ship's bridge controls to the best of your abilities." He pointed broadly at them, "This is nothing but a simple task, do you ALL understand?"

All of them nodded, some even went to some form of attention, "Good, it would be unfortunate if I had to make my authority clear again..." he waved a hand dismissively, "Now go."

All of the freed slaves did as they commanded. Most of them stood on the platform while others couldn't fit due to how many there were and waited their turn to ride. Some who had to walk past the standing Sith tried to walk around as far away as possible, trying to avoid his attention.

Which reminded Vader of something, or more accurately, someone.

"Larfleeze!" He beckoned out, the dog in question appeared out of the leaving crowd and went to his knees out of respect.

"Y-Yes my lord?"

Vader regarded his new servant with a slight head tilt downward, "You have proven your worth, dog."

Larfleeze moved his head up and down exaggeratedly, "y-yes yes! Only because you freed me."

"And with the example I have given out, you now know what happens to those who don't have any value to me."

Larfleeze glanced at the dead and broken Okaaran, which at this point leaked fluids out of his orifices and was gathering flies. He gulped, and grimly said, "Yes…my lord."

"Very so then, your reward will come in time." He pointed at the prostrated Larfleeze, "If you wish to continue your value, then you will speak everything you know about this galaxy."

***​

Mongul sipped wine out of his ornate goblet after a holo-transmission which entailed a planned assault at the slaves that defied his rule and took their ship for no-doubt themselves. The participants were on the far side of Mongul's empire, consisting of the captains of his personal fleet being briefed on their current task on hand.

To bring in these slaves looking for their own freedom, and this Darth Vader cyborg of course, and transport them back to Warworld to be made an example of. Obviously, if it was just the slaves, there would be no need for concern or extra planning, but with this black armored cyborg, the situation was a little complicated.

Not only did he break out whatever confinement he was in, if he was in one at all guessing by Kalla's stupidity, he also presumably killed all of the crew. This leads to two things. One, he is somewhat powerful by assuming he used his psionic powers, or magic by some would call it, and skills of whatever weapon he held to break out and kill every single sailor and automaton on the slave ship. Which led to the idea that he might be worthy enough to go into the area in one versus one matches. Draaga level? He couldn't say but not until he had Vader in his yellow hands.

The second thing was he needed them to pay, especially Vader. They challenged his rule, his character, and so has to die. But not just any death. Their last moments needed to be broadcasted all across Warworld, his empire, so that anyone that wished to defy or even question him would receive the same treatment.

But with Vader's unknown power's and skills being somewhat deadly, bringing them alive would prove to be a challenge. A standard boarding party of taking control back of the ship and capturing the slaves with Darth Vader might seem the logical choice. But seeing the holo-recording twice now, it would only be sending lambs to a slaughter, and no doubt expensive too. Using tractor beams would just be as good, pulling the ship by the beams might work, but would leave ships vulnerable and the slave taken ship has a multi-turret defense system that could shoot down his ships. That will be even more expensive.

And so, in the brainstorming session he had between himself, his chancellor, and the holographic forms of his captains in his throne world, they came up with an idea.

They would use the teleportation machines they use to transport fighters from their cages to the arena at the slaves and Vader then have them transported back to Warworld. With the teleportation machines put in their hulls now, the ships would travel to the slave ship, quickly lock on to the slave's living signatures, teleport them before they could mount a defense, having ships between there and Warworld to strength the signal and have them appear in the arena for their final moments of live.

A brilliant plan of course, but it has many complications that could go wrong.

It would be very expensive of course, if it didn't work or not. The way the teleporters worked was also a problem. Expensive and very few in the known galaxy, the very few ones Mongul possess aren't the high quality ones like Rann is known to have. Their range was best at planet to planet travel in the same star system, not between systems light years away. If they had no proper signal boosted between their
travel, by the time they got to Warworld, they would be nothing but puddles of their former selves, literally.

To avoid this, ships with teleporters connected with their communication systems stationed strategically at calculated points between the slave ship and Warworld. The enhanced teleportation signal would be strengthened and would be able to properly transport the slaves.

All of this was highly expensive and most dangerous, dangerous for the slaves at any rate. But with high risks, comes high rewards.

He took in another sip as his chancellor finished talking to one of the captains through his comlink. "The strike force will be at the location at any moment, sire."

Mongul smiled out of satisfaction and anticipation of the slaves capture, "Good."

The light blue skinned, red and black robed chancellor, with his near-oblong shaped head bowed, "Forgive me ,sire, but may I speak freely?"

The red eyed ruler of Warworld waved him off, "You may."

"I understand that these slaves need to be punished for defying you," he confessed, "But do we need such a costly way of bringing them back?"

Mongul, the great ruler, sighed and put a hand onto his cheek as it rested on his throne's arm. "Are you really that worried about costs?"

"Well," the chancellor awkwardly laughed, "I am just concerned, there's already talk of-,"

"Rebellion?" Mongul finished his chancellor's reasoning. The chancellor has been bugging him on and on about food shortages, lack of medicine, power outages and whatever the rabble need. What his chancellor might see by comparing Mongul's empire to other space-faring nations, would be Mongul not properly caring for his subjects.

But to Mongul, he knows better. All of those empires, realms, federations, democracies, or whatever nonsense other sentients think is the best way of living for their citizens. Citizens don't need such commodities, they can be given a simple mud hut to sleep in, simple rags for clothing, food from a dubious source and told to plow the fields if given one important resource. One resource very few can provide, few who could afford and master it. One thing that will make the citizens forget about their meaningless lives.

Mongul smiled in his righteous confidence, got up from his large throne and paced towards the large curved window. "There's not going to be any rebellion." He stopped at the window with the chancellor following him behind. "Not if I can keep giving them fights," he explained the fulcrum of keeping the citizens in check, "Good ones," he gestures out to the window. "Enough to take their minds off troubles."

His throne and palace altogether sit high and behind the coliseum. It had a magnificent view of the gargantuan arena and the rabble starting to fill the seats. Sentient beings of different sizes, ages, and professions flocked to the stands as the preparations for the fights started. Concessions of various alien foods and drinks being served and offered. Talk of what new warrior or event will happen this time. Families bringing in their younglings, spawns, hatchlings, and grubs, near the edge of the area so they may see the carnage happen closely. Bets being made on how many limbs will be dismembered.

In all this growing crowd, Mongul didn't spot anything of concern. He didn't spot any complaining citizens about no jobs available. He didn't see parents bickering on whether or not they will be able to pay the ration bill in this month's cycle.

He saw nothing but compliance.

To some who rule nations, compliance is either earned or bought so the citizenry won't rouse from their ignorance. From Mongul's empire, compliance isn't bought, it's shown.

It doesn't matter if a bunch of nobody slaves are eaten alive horribly in front of their eyes, as long as the show continues, they will cheer. And that will happen. He is sure that Darth Vader might be capable of going into one-on-one matches. But he must set the example first before anything else. Some preliminary matches might be acceptable.

And to start it off, he has a surprise for these pathetic slave rebels and this Vader. Many hungry surprises to be accurate.

***​

Darth Vader stood in the middle of the semi-operational control bridge. With his new semi-reliable servant, Larfleeze, silently behind his side, waiting for any orders as he should. The ex-slaves now his "crew", the ones that were capable of piloting, had technical knowledge, and others that weren't too stupid managed the bridge while the rest of the group were across the ship, trying to be useful.

After their release, the ex-slaves did as they're told, they gathered up all of the bodies of their captors and disposed of them. Cleaning up the bridge that was almost entirely covered in alien blood after Vader's outburst. Though all of the blood was cleaned, the stains and the odor still remained.

When the gore of the slaughter was mostly wiped away, those who were capable of fixing the necessary components of the bridges control station went to work as if their own lives depended on it. In some cases, they were. Though the damage to the bridge was more extreme than Vader and some of the crew originally thought. In order to make the ship operational again, they scrapped and recovered whatever spare parts and material from other control consoles, cannibalizing parts. Then they had to jury-rigg and splice mixed up wires, circuit boards, cables, and other parts needed to make the ship back online.

This took at least an hour and only the helms, tactical, and scanners stations were operational. Everything else was scrapped for parts or was too badly damaged. They brought the ship to the edge of an asteroid belt after some time traveling through empty space. Assuming that Mongul will try to track them down and recapture them, sticking close to the asteroid field for a last resort escape would be suitable at best.

The ship in question wasn't a combat oriented design, and Vader knew this. After the sketchy repairs, Vader cycled through the ship's manual information and specifications so he knew what he worked with. And he has worked with worse, but also worked with better too. The ship looked like an AA-9 Freighter Liner from his own galaxy. With the tall hull and fours ion engines at the rear, the ship's bridge was directly in front of the bow.

The ship's original design of its first configuration was intended to be a mobile asteroid mining vessel. It was capable of taking on hits from large space-faring rocks that could collide against the hull with its thick armor. The main feature of its design was the tractor beam ray it has, located front forward of the ship at the most bottom of the hull, directly bottom of the bridge. When bringing desired asteroids onboard , the tractor beam bay would open, take on the rock, and mine the valuable minerals with mining machinery and drills the circular bay had.

But, seemingly, Mongul took an interest in this design and incorporated it into his slaving fleets. Instead of the thick armor used to defend against racing asteroids, it would be used to bully and harass defenseless ships by ramming them. The tractor beams used to bring the victims to their grasp. To have more firepower, the outside hull was outfitted with two aftermarket light cannons, one on the top and one at the bottom, and four point-defense flak batteries.

The ship went from mining asteroids to mining slaves.

Vader suspected that the ship could perform somewhat mediocrely if it went up against only one freighter or small cruiser sized ship and it hugged the outer borders of an asteroid belt for an escape. But Vader does not retreat nor does he show weakness if he must. So as to give the ship more firepower, Vader had the crew tractor beamed a good-sized asteroid into the bay and used it to hurl it against an enemy ship. That's of course, if that works.

Now with the ship somewhat online with the makeshift controls, Vader questioned his new "advisor" on the situation of this new galaxy he seemed to find himself in. His information was spotty at best to say the least. Larfleeze has been a slave for almost his entire life, his earliest memories was of his home planet being invaded by an alien race and getting enslaved. He passed through masters, worked in mines and so forth, had children himself who became slaves themselves and so forth.

To some, they would have felt pity for the poor dog, Vader was only indifferent.

Though Larfleeze was a slave, Vader knows that slaves still could learn of the free world beyond their bondage. Though not entirely knowledgeable, Larfleeze explained the best he could of the galaxy to the Sith Lord.

This galaxy, the Milky Way called by the inhabitants, had no real large established galactic spanning government entity like his own. There was no Republic or Empire that existed beforehand that had a huge presence. There were pretenders and wannabes, of course, but none of them were equal to the challenge of taking on this particular galaxy itself.

The one interesting, disturbing, and confusing part of Larfleeze's history lesson was his talk about these Guardians of the Universe and their Green Lantern Corps. Aspiring "keepers of the peace", they scour the universe or galaxy, Larfleeze wasn't exactly clear on that last part, as some sort of Law enforcement with their so-called "power rings" to give them strength and powers beyond those of normal beings. Their headquarters was supposedly in the center core of this galaxy, a planet called Oa. The Guardians conscript their police force from beings of all walks of life and have taken the burden on policing the galaxy.

Yet they have not taken the responsibility of taking the peace entirely. These guardians heavily remind Vader of the Jedi of old. They have supposed powers beyond the average being yet do not use them to its fullest potential. They talk of peace and justice yet only enforce it by their form of morality. What they should do with this power was to announce their total authority over their domain, get rid of any form of governments on star systems and say, "We know what's best for you", and get on with the point.

Instead, by what Larfleeze has told him, they track pirates and scum but don't do the universe's favor of killing them, simply put them in Oa. They police and enforce peace between interstellar nations yet simply allowed this Thanagarian-Gordanian War that has now spanned for generations exist and amongst others. They have proclaimed their "authority" on all ends of creation except for these Unknown Sectors and this Vega Star System, which now is a lawless system with not a single Lantern stepping foot in that small region of space for the longest time that can be remembered.

These Guardians, by the sound of them are nothing but a hive of righteous incompetents
who have the power to bring on peace to wherever yet do not fully take on the responsibility and duty of taking such a role, arrogant fools. That, of course, is if all of the information Larfleeze provided was accurate.

Regardless of whether all of this was accurate or not, it was murky information that gave Vader an idea on what he might encounter in this new galaxy. If he can't find his way back to his own galaxy, his universe if the situation is that serious. If…he wants to.

A buzzing alarm went off at the near-ramshackled scanning station, it pulled Vader out of his thoughts and turned his head to the station. It's only components being a single keyboard hooked up in a mess of wires to the station and a cracked screen to the side. Its operator, a big belly but large grayish brown
Humanoid alien with barbarian looks stumbled on the crontols and informed Lord Vader, "Boss, we gotta-," he stopped, staggered his words and correctly said, "I uh, I mean, Lord Vader, we gotta something here."

Vader moving to the station with the obedient Larfleeze closely behind, he saw what caused threat proximity alarms to go off and narrowed his eyes inside his Sith helmet. "Mongul…" he growled out.

On the cracked screen, showed four medium sized freighters now exiting hyperspace and coming towards them in attack vectors. It was clear that Vader's slaughter of Mongul's crew and releasing his property was a stab to the Mongul's rule, and so Mongul had to properly respond in kind to protect his ego and authority.

"My lord," a worried Larfleeze said, looking at the broken screen and back to Vader, "What do we do?"

Vader considered escaping into the asteroid as the new four ships went into real space and appeared to be a different class and design to Vader's newly taken freighter. With laser and flak batteries around their hulls and more aggressive looking, Vader thought those ships were probably the combat arm of Mongul's personal fleet. If that's the case, then hypothetically speaking, they shouldn't be able to enter the asteroid without the talking in damage unlike Vader's freighter.

But in a show of force and defiance, this is not a fight the Dark Lord will flee, especially when he could prove himself. "We will fight."

Some of the crew and Larfleeze including looked onto Vader as if they couldn't believe the words that exited out of his vocabulator. "But my Lord," Larfleeze tried to reason, "Those are attack ships, we will never-," the dog's words were stuck in his throat when Vader turned to him and the dog got a new understanding of his position. "Yes my lord," he bowed, "A wise decision."

Vader turned to the helms station, "Helmsman!" He ordered, "Send the ship straight toward their formation on the right and redirect all available power to engines."

The helms station is now reduced to a joystick and a keyboard with a mishmash of wires and circuits held together by elastic tape and pliers. The insectoid operator said with a buzzy, "Yes sir!" With his antennae switching.

The Dark Lord switched his attention to the tactical station which was in similar condition, "Tactical, have all of the batteries fire upon the ships, any will do. Make it seem we are going in for an attack."

The alien questioned the order, "But boss, wouldn't that be attacking."

Vader places both hands onto his belt, "Yes, but not in the way they should suspect."

The freighter turned out of the edge of the rocky field and straight to the attacking formation. The four ships that belonged to Mongul, were in a square formation, two on the bottom and two on the top, facing the incoming slave freighter. The freed ship fired all of its guns at the attackers, firing its two cannon turrets and all of its flak batteries. As ordered, the operator on tactical had the batteries fire on ships, but with no clear intent or pattern other than a meandering assault.

Energy bolts screeched through cold space and crashed onto the ships' shielding. The cannon volley seemed to do the most damage, rocking the ships when they hit the shields, the flak however only seemed to be an annoyance. The attacking ships did the same, firing their more advanced and stronger energy platforms against the rampaging freighter.

The armor of the former mining vessel did its purpose unintentionally, the ship's shielding almost buckled immediately and energy shots landed direct hits. The ship shook and rocked from the blasts, the crew did the best to not stagger by hanging onto their consoles. Larfleeze fell onto a heap of security droids that they moved to the corner to deal with later. Vader, with his top heavy armor, didn't budge, only seeing the current battle outside through the damaged window. Still, the armor of the ship was thick enough to absorb the shots and keep the ship forward.

"Helmsman," Vader said to the pilot when the freighter was getting closer and closer to the formation. "When I say 'up', move the ship forward up as fast as you can possibly maneuver."

"Yes boss!"

Vader turned to tactics, "Tactical, when I say 'release', unlatched the mining bay along the tractor beam's hold on the asteroid."

"Uhh," the tactical operator said with another shake from cannon firing hitting the armored hull, "Sure thing My lord!"

The freighter continued its direction towards the blasting formation, firing its batteries wildly. The intensity of the ship quakes grew as the enemy had better shoot vectors onto the incoming freighter. The roars of the hits increased as did the size of the formation. The ship's crew can be seen from this distance. Vader raised a hand to anticipate his command. When he thought the time was right, the ship was close to ramming distance and was bound to crash.

"UP!" He commanded and the pilot jolted back the joystick as hard and fast as he could. The ship rocked back as the nose tipped upward along with the rest of the ship, revealing the mining bay doors.

Before any of the enemy ships could maneuver from the incoming ship, Vader sent out his second command, "RELEASE!"

Tactical pressed a button, the circular bay doors slid open and released the asteroid from its confines. Due to the sudden stop and the ball of rock now being released, the asteroid shared the momentum of the once racing freighter, so now free, the rock went out of the bay and went forward, straight to the ship's bridge that the freighter just barely went up.

The enemy disappeared from view down below the window, but Vader heard the concussion of the hit. The giant rock smashed through the enemy ship's bridge and crushed through the hull. Going deeper and deeper, the rock must've hit the main reactor because the moment the asteroid disappeared into the hull, a series of explosions ruptured out of the vessel and made the ship that was owned by Mongul turn into a ball of superheated gas. Debris flew out of the blooming cloud and the shockwave rocked the three other vessels who just got out of the main blast radius.

The former mining vessel went out of the forward up arch and turned to see the aftermath. The crew roared and yelled in victory as the ball lost its light. Vader stopped that, however, "Pilot!" All the cheering stopped and they went back to their stressful posts, "Turn ship around," he commanded, "And head back to the asteroid field."

"Yes my lord!" Just when the helmsman was about to do Vader's bidding, a large quake rocked the ship that even made Vader stumbled a bit. Alarms went off with a red light emitted across the bridge as another shockwave was felt. "Uh my lord," the pilot said, "They just hit the engines! We're dead in the water!"

As much would hate to admit something he did wrong, he would do it now but only to himself. Going on the offensive was a mistake, it would have been simpler to hide in the asteroid field at the first sign of trouble. Using this incompetent crew as a mistake, it would have been easier if he just left them in the dungeon.

Perhaps it's time to ready his TIE

"Very well," he said, "Try to…" he trailed off when he felt a sense from the Force, a sense that he was being targeted specifically. He whirled around as to suspect a boarding party behind him to kill but only found Larfleeze just now getting out of the droid pile. He reached into the Force and searched through the ship but couldn't find any threats onboard. So was that feeling.

That question was answered when a bloom of blue light engulfed everyone in the room, including Vader. Before he could figure out what was happening, their forms disappeared in the light and no one was on the bridge nor the freighter altogether.

***​

The optical sensors in Vader's helmet could only dim so much light. When the unknown and strange light engulfed Vader, the sensors in his shell of a helmet detected the sudden increase of illumination and dimmed it as it possibly could. To refrain from damaging his sensitive retinas, he closed his eyes for a couple of seconds.

The light wasn't the only thing he noticed.

As though being thrown at incredible speeds, Vader felt through the force that he was being moved from one place to another, like being plucked by a hand and placed somewhere else. When the light ended, so did this feeling. It faded away and the area Vader found himself now was covered in blackness. A second the light left, the optical sensors in his helmet changed the settings so he may see through this dark.

He wasn't alone. When turning around, he saw all of the slaves he saved scattered in the bottom of a cylinder like chasm, where he was also. The slaves were also beamed off the ship and onto this place, they were surprised and afraid of what was to come.

They were teleported.

Teleportation, at last in his galaxy, was more of a myth than a possibility. There were no former Republic or current Imperial projects working on the fascinating technology, he sincerely doubted the Hutts, the Hapes, the corporate sector and other entities would be smart and wealthy to make such an endeavor. They were myths about the ancient Rakata once being able to enjoy such technology and the even more ancient and mysterious Gree more so. But their success and knowledge of the machines was now long gone.

He also thought about being able to teleport one by using a Force technique; the Witches of Dathormir were said to be capable of doing so. But the Witch clans were destroyed by Dooku and the Separatist General, Grievous, in the middle of the Clone Wars. Sidious had said one technique was capable of not only teleporting, it can cause untold damage. But Vader's master had not said anything else about the technique, and he doubts Sidious would tell him of it.

Mongul, however, has this technology available. Meaning at that moment, Mongul could've flinged Vader to a black hole or onto a distant planet where the Dark Lord wouldn't be able to escape. Yet he was here, someplace that is deliberate and planned out. Mongul was onto something and the idea of what did not sit well with the Sith.

Larfleeze panicking and running to his leader out of the grouped up and dazed crowd said, "My Lord! We've been transported! The ship we-,"

"I can see that, Larfleeze." A disinterested Vader said.

The Sith Lord's control panel on his chest was the only light being visible, if even it was minor, until flood lights on the long circular room's wall lit up. As the slaves gasped and tried to make sense of it all, Vader looked down on the circular floor to see many details. Dried blood stains spilled, blaster marks scorched into the metal long ago and many times, scratch marks littered parts of the floor, many beings died here or killed with their own hands. Going into the Force, he felt that they were being watched, not only that, they were many beings above them from sight.

"We are being watched," he said

Larfleeze asked, "By…by whom?"

As if the room heard the dog's question, the floor shook for a moment with mechanical pistons firing below and the circular platform they were on began to shift upward, closing the gap between them and the ceiling. The slaves looked around, worried about their lives, and terror at what awaits them.

Vader only stood still, he looked slightly up as the ceiling got closer and he heard the roar of hundreds of thousands of beings beyond the ceiling, "We will find out, soon enough." He answered Larfleeze's question.

When some of the slaves thought they would be squished when the ceiling was coming close, the ceiling parted ways and revealed a great light and rumbling nose of roaring crowds. When out of the threshold, the platform showed all fifty former slaves and the Dark Lord of the Sith that they were now standing in the middle of a gargantuan arena. Beyond and above the pit where the group stood, three sets of massive layers filled to the absolute brim of various species of sentient beings, each layer going outward from the pit.

Vader looked to a set that above the top layer of the normal seats were windows that ran parallel to the circular megastructure, possibly high interest beings with power and wealth, no doubt. Beyond the coliseum, he saw a large and tall palace-like structure. A giant four-faced holo-screen hovered above the large arena to show the rabble close up views of the group, different angles though, the screens all had Vader in them one way or the other.

Darth Vader had an idea of what this might be and was, unfortunately, right. On the same side of the tall alien castle, was a platform that shot out of the stands. A set of doors opened and three beings existed. The first was a tall, skinny, humanoid blue-skinned alien with regal clothing. The second was a burly yellow skinned alien that wore a purple elastic suit, gray trousers, a silvery crown of sorts, and sat upon a repulsor throne. The last one, was of no significance, as the being that had the looks of an anteater of sorts followed closely behind the yellow alien and carried an umbrella to protect the big alien from the sun. A servant no doubt.

When the alien was exited out of the wall, all of the crowd chanted one name that made Vader narrow his eyes into slits in his helmet. "MONGUL! MONGUL! MONGUL! MONGUL!" He was certain this Mongul was the big alien that had eyes above him. Mongul, waved and smiled at his subjects. The hover chair stopped near the edge of the viewing cliff, he got up to gesture his hand for his subjects to get quiet, and the crowd grew silent.

"Welcome friends!" His voice was projected by a megaphone, "To another day of Warworld!"

Some of the former slaves gulped at the warlord's words and the establishment on where they were. Vader stood still. The crowd roared and made the air tremble. Mongul gestures for silence, "Today! We have new contenders in the arena! These contenders did the unimaginable: defy my rule! And risked the security of our nation!" He pointed down below. The crowd's attention went to the group down in the pit, booing and screaming out obscene words. "They have hijacked a ship from our loyal first responders and killed every single man onboard savagely!" he continued, "Their leader," he pointed directly downward at Vader, "Is Darth Vader!"

On the giant holo-screen above, switched from showing the group in the pit to showing a buzzy transmission feed of Vader slaughtering Mongul's crew. The mega screen's loudspeakers projected the sound of violent carnage, crewmembers crying for help, in terror, and in pain as they fell to Vader's blade or to the force. Recorded blaster bolts boomed throughout the stadium and Vader's heavy footsteps made the air heavy.

Some of the crowd gasped, lamented, and was stunned to shock from seeing the Dark Lord's powers in full display. The feed finished when Vader killed the last member by breaking his neck. The snap seemed to echo out forever when the feed cut out. At first, silence took hold of the arena then cries of fury ensued.

The rabble spewed vile words at the unmoving Dark Lord, booing at him as if that meant anything. A pathetic few threw food and trash at the pit. He could feel the crowd being manipulated into easily hating Vader for just existing. Words they eagerly follow from Mongul's mouth. "Why say you, Vader?!" The warlord asked dramatically and as though they were in a fair court.

Everyone, the slaves, the crowd went silent. Floating camera droids took video of Vader and televised it in the giant holo-screens. Vader stood as a statue, the only part with seeable motion was his cape slightly moving from the light breeze. He spoke, pointing a gloved hand at Mongul and projected his voice through his power, "My wish is to see your head off your body, Mongul!"

Vader expected the crowd to riot from his words but that didn't happen. Instead, they simply gazed at their lord. Mongul seemed somewhat caught off guard but only for a moment. He put up a confident face, "I would like you to say those words again, after you've been through…" he lifted his hands up, "WARWORLD!"

Predictably, the crowd went berserk and started to chant 'Waworld' over and over again. Vader now realized that this Mongul ruler might not have a total grasp of control onto his subjects. How he sends the crowd into a frenzy just simply saying some calculated words gave Vader to think about.

Mongul raised his hand to silence the pitch of the crowd. "As you know!" He said, his voice carrying across the arena. "Those who die in the area are fed to the Pit Dragon!" He pointed up to the giant holo-screen, and the footage cut to a hazy video of a dark dungeon with a pool filled with dirty algae-colored water. At the edge of the pool were dead aliens of various sizes lined up, some beaten, some torn apart, some nothing but burned corpses.

A shadow in the water slowly appeared and out of the murk, a giant crocodile like beast the size of a Krayt Dragon broke the serenity of the muddy water, and opened its sharp jagged teeth to devour the corpses. It broke bone, smashing body cavities, going into a death roll to unravel some corpses so it might be easier to chew on. Blood flying all over the pool and painting the dungeon's walls with a colorful array of alien blood.

The video itself seemed to rouse the audience in an excited roar. The video utterly scared the ex-slaves by the monster on the screen, one or two even soiled themselves. The video did not cause any concern to the Dark Lord.

"But as some of you might not know…" Mongul went on and the video went back to the live-footage of the now scared slaves, "The Pit Dragon is in fact…a she!" The crowd sent out genuine gasps of surprise. Mongul made an evil smile, "And she gave us a little surprise a few days ago…" he looked down onto the group in the arena pit, "a couple hundred little surprises."

Mongul said that the last line made a few more of the ex-slaves soil themselves further.

Several large tubes were erected out of the ground in the pit; after they were fully out, they spewed out large quantities of water. It took a minute for the thin pool of water to reach the middle where the group stood and another two minutes to have the water reach well above the ankles. When finished, the tubes retracted back into the ground.

Then, in the wall of the pit arena, at least a hundred doors slid up and revealed many black-squared dwellings. When the doors opened the four-by-four-meter-long squared holes, the smell of rotten meat escaped the dwellings and took form into the arena. Vader could sense at least hundreds of creatures in the new openings, one for each hole. He could feel the unrelenting hunger and bloodlust in each beast that just now woke up and smelled prey out in the pit. The only thing stopping what laid on those dark holes from coming out was an orange layer of ray shields for each opening.

"But!" Mongul said, "I am a fair man," he put a hand to his chest sentimentally. "And despite what these men have committed, I will still give them a fair chance of living. Tools will be given!"

Shining lights of blue appeared in front of every member of the group, by their feet in front. When the light disappeared, weapons of different varieties were presented down by the slaves' feet. Some were blasters; one-handed, two-handed, automatic and semiautomatic. Some were blunt weapons, blades, daggers, axes, and throwing knives. And few were crudely crafted, some made out of sticks with rocks attached, or some are just rocks altogether.

The ex-slaves reluctantly and desperately picked up their randomized weapons to prepare for what was to come. The weapon that appeared at the feet of Vader was a blaster, Larfleeze was still on the side of Vader and got a slingshot made up of wood. Vader picked up the blaster and dropped it to the hands of the dog, "You will need it more than I do."

While the ex-slaves did their best to control themselves and die whatever lay in the dark holes. Vader stood there, only in his thoughts with no regard of danger. He shouldn't play this game. This whole ordeal is nothing but for the amusement of the rabble here and for Mongul. A Dark Lord of the Sith shouldnt degrade themselves to a level of filth.

And yet, he knew that no one here, not the slaves, the crowd, Mongul, nor this new galaxy actually knew about the dark lord, or the Sith for that matter. They laugh, toy, and boo at him yet the beings of his galaxy couldn't never do such a thing, because they know Darth Vader, they know and see what he is capable of.

He thought about it in his helmet. If there is a chance of getting back home or not, he will need to establish his dominance of the mundane here. He will need to show his superiority, that he is not an ordinary being to be taken off the streets and be made as some entertainment. He is a Dark Lord of the Sith. His mastery in the dark side of the force has no bounds and power is to be put to bear on those who even have the slightest idea to mock him.

He will play this game, but not as entertainment, but as an announcement and arrival of the Sith in this new galaxy he found himself in.

Reconstituted, Vader only stood still among the crew he freed, who were now huddling closer to him, as if he would protect them. "Lord Vader," A scared Larfleeze, "What are we supposed to do?"

Vader didn't say anything until all of the ray shields outside of the dwellings ceased, and two predatory yellow eyes in each of all the dark holes appeared. Multiple animalistic roars and hisses exited out of the darkness.

Vader brought up his lightsaber, "We either fight…" he ignited his Sith blade, a crimson beam of energy exited out of the hilt, humming like a purring feline predator. "Or we die."

A loud siren screeched through the air and the carnage began.

***​

Notes hope you like this chapter, think the space battle was unnecessarily but though it needed some action. Comments on how to improve or want something in the story let me know! Next chapter we ill see Maxima get the wets for Vader as he fights Draaga and but heads with Mongul!

 

[PistolPete76]

I do not own any of the Star Wars and DC characters and ideas represented in this work.

"You are more Anakin but more powerful and dangerous than anyone realized." - Ahsoka Tano​

Lady Maxima: Warrior Queen, Head of the royal house, leader of all Almerac was bored. Boredom, in some species that can comprehend it, was a very subjective concept varying person to person. Maxima was not a very philosophical ruler like many sentients might come to think royals are. Higher forms of intellect and study are for those who are second-in-command to any authority figure so that said authority figure won't need to worry about complex or silly words, like her advisor Sazu.

Of course, that will lead to Sazu being incredibly annoying, prone to question every decision Maxima makes, and utterly be a witch altogether. Some might ask why the Almeracian Queen hasn't already executed the secretary for being a nuisance, and Maxima thought about it and was close to doing the act in the past. But the handmaiden has proven to be too useful for her own good and would be a total waste if beheaded. Besides, Sazu has served Maxima's family for almost her entire life. The slightly older woman was like a sister to Maxima, a sister that Maxima would sometimes like to dismember personally.

Back to the day at hand, boredom was something that Maxima didn't like. It was a problem that couldn't be threatened, or beaten to submission, or thrown in jail, or ignored. It was a situation that seemed to be plaguing her recently. The many hobbies that the Queen once enjoyed to rid herself of such a state of mind was sword fighting, feeding political prisoners to the carnorite, and finding a suitable worthy mate.

But those things have changed; there are not many swordsmen worth meeting their blades with hers, the carnorite is now dead, and there is absolutely no man in this stupid galaxy worthy to be her lover and betrothed.

Well, all of them except one of course.

The Kryptonian—Superman. He was the only male being that had the potential of not only being her equal, but her lover. He was the last of his race, what she remembered, and no real way of procreating his race out of extinction. She offered herself to him, when he proved himself worthy, she offered her mind, body, and soul to him and a seat on the Almeracian throne, to be a ruler beside her. Their love would have been unbreakable, their love making legendary, their children beautiful and powerful, and their Empire unstoppable.

Alas, he was ultimately unworthy, she came to realize. Physical-wise, he was sculpted by the sacred god himself. Personality-wise, he was a fool, he was not a leader of any sort nor of any worth to her. Despite his body being the peak of a warrior, his mentality was one of a coward. Instead of killing his enemies like any sane sentient should do, he never saw him do it at all, the warrior from Earth has never killed or cause another's death. In all of the scouts Sazu had on Earth or anyplace that the Kryptonian went, he has only given mercy to those who don't deserve it.

Not doing what everyone would do with those astonishing powers and ruling the galaxy, he only watches and observes from Earth, playing cat and mouse with Earth criminals and some outside force from time to time. Maxima was, and sometimes is, infatuated with the man at some point.

When he helped her take that rat bastard De'Cine when he staged that coup against her, he compelled her to offer him mercy when he didn't deserve any. But Maxima who only just wanted to make mad love with the strongly built man just went along with his ideals. When she said that she'll be a better leader to her people to him, it was an attempt to bring him into her arms, so that she might seem more compatible with his ideals. When she has done all of that he suggested she should do, she hopes, no, prayed that he may come back from that backwater world and be her destined love.

That was all five years ago, and that bastard Kryptonian hasn't even called her!

Maxima has gotten wiser now. A mate, for her, her future family and lineage, and all of Almerac at stake needed to have two strengths in mind: Strength in the physical by any form and strength in the mind. There are many suitors that were weak physically but were in the right mind to be rulers. They wanted her to bear their children and become rulers of Almerac yet none were not physically worthy of doing so. The only man capable of becoming her mate in a physical sense was Superman, yet he was not in the right mind. Either he was too stupid or just mentally ill, for that he wasn't worthy.

Finding a suitor that has both, Maxima found out, was near impossible.

Because of all this, she was bored, possibly forever, to die as a maiden. Her dream of having a child of immense power and strength seemed to be fading away the same way her youth was, even though she was still rather young comparatively. Her plans to have a galaxy wide Empire built by Almerican hands looks like a combination of a joke and a mirage. Her hopes of having a lover to be betrothed, to have a intertwined destiny with another who loves her back, where they know each other's feelings even between the stars, are now dead. All of this excitement, the thrilling feeling of something that might be created from all of this, is gone.

And the only thing that came from this was boredom. Extreme, frustrating, saddening boredom. Not only was she bored with her current status in her life, she was bored in the moment. To some who watch Mongul's games, from watching it on a holo-screen from the far side of the galaxy to watching in person on this very stadium, it might've been the most exhilarating thing imaginable. To her, it was nothing but a bunch of nobodies and ne'er-do-wells duking it out for the amusement of a giant oaf of a ruler.

She sighed in her furnished, comfortable, air-conditioned, VIP private lounge while putting a hand onto her cheek. Seated next to her was Sazu, always commenting on this and that, but Maxima never listened. Her personal royal guards stood at attention at the lounge's only exit with some of Maxima's servant girls at the side to happily service her mistress. This private lounge, like many others on the very top of the stadium, had a remarkable view of the arena below with addition a private holo-screen of the action as well.

She couldn't really come up with a noteworthy answer on why she had decided to bring herself to watch the games personally. To offer an alliance to Mongul? Not a chance. To maybe spy on Warworld while pretending to be friendly so she may launch an invasion? Almerac hasn't seen a decent war in generations, Sazu said how the current military and economic situation of her realm, it would take decades to revitalize it. How fun. Maybe to find a suitable mate by looking through the victor of the arena? With these slimy aliens? Not a chance.

She guessed to herself the reason she was here was because, 'why not?'.

Bored out of her mind, she more or less ignored Mongul's appearance in the arena. The introduction of the poor souls in the arena pit. Mongul's explanation of these men who apparently killed some other worthless men and whatever. The mega screen above the stadium and her personal holo-screen in the lounge transmitted a prerecorded video on this 'Darth Vader' guy. She will say honestly, she got less bored.

It cuts to a red alien begging Mongul for help. Screams of men while they got slaughtered like animals. Blasters being fired. The heavy breathing of a respirator of some kind coldly inhaling and exhaling. The strangling of the ship's captain by a dark cloaked figure that ended by the captain's neck snapping pathetically.

"Brutal and dominating," she thought to herself.

Sazu though, had different opinions, "agh," she said with disgust with her High Almeracian accent, "What a brute."

The video continued with the reveal of the figure that resembled the one down below. She looked back at the pit where the dark figure stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the ne'er-do-wells around him. She realized that this figure was Darth Vader. Having obsidian colored armor, the way this Darth Vader had his mask with his cowl over the head seemed angry with two arches above the eyelids. A grill pattern on where his mouth should be. A cloak linked with a chain, Darth Vader was rather tall, dark and probably handsome.

She arched an eyebrow as Darth Vader was the only one who stood tall and almost motionless while the group around him shivered in fear. The video continues with Darth Vader arguing with Mongul in the feed. "Do you know how many emperors and empires there are in the galaxy?" A recorded voice of Mongul asked.

Vader's recorded response seemed passionate and determined that it gained Maxima's attention. "There is only ONE Emperor and ONE Empire! Your ignorance proves your lack of usefulness, and whatever planet you're from will suffer against the Empire's wrath!" The feed then cuts off Vader crushing the camera, the holo-screen then turns to a live feed of Vader standing at the arena. The crowd booed at the Obsidian armored man, Vader only stood uncaringly. Mongul asked the dark man what he had to say about, Vader defiantly replied with a loud, strong, and deep voice that was heard almost as if he was everywhere in the stadium. "My wish is to see your head off your body, Mongul!"

"Commanding and straight to the point…" she mused in her thoughts.

Mongul got embarrassed in front of his subjects, of course, and proceeded to introduce today's main show. While a video played of a giant crocodilian beast devouring dead arena fighters, Maxima used her telepathic abilities to get more information on the mysterious warrior. After generations of selective breeding, genetic engineering and augmentation, most of the royal house of Almerac enjoyed such abilities.

Using her psychic powers on this Vader, she attempted to find any information on who he is, where he is from, and more importantly, if he is even a HE. But surprisingly and even terrifyingly, she found nothing. She sensed no intentions, no thoughts she could read, information that she could feel. Maxima's telepathic powers were credited as one of best in all of Almerac and almost unrivaled in the known galaxy. She has never met a being before whose mind and feelings she couldn't sense. Yet this dark cloaked figure at the bottom of the pit denied her probing.

She didn't feel anything but one ounce of something. Three basic emotions were so strong and deadly that she actually recoiled on the sheer amount of power they held in him: Fear, Anger, and hatred. They were in him like the small rim of light of a star escaping out of an solar eclipse. His entire being was a total darkness like an umbra, the only array of emotions she felt on him were small rays of sunshine that barely escaped.

She was astonished and fascinated that not only this man could deter her mental probings, but quite possibly could be more powerful in the realm of psychics than her, as she got a headache for her probing while he seemed indifferent. He was better than her it would seem.

She wasn't bored any more.

More intently now, she observed the tall, dark, and hopefully handsome man closer now as the arena fighters' main opponents were released from their confinements at the base of the pit. Darth Vader revealed a silver cylinder, a beam of energy in the color of blood escaped from the hilt. He stood undeterred while all of the slaves pathetically shivered in what is to come. A loud siren echoed in the arena and the beasts sprang into action for their meals.

Like their mother, they were crocodilian in nature, scales that acted as armor, jagged teeth to rip flesh and bone matter, and shorts legs that can quite go fast in her viewing when they exited out of their holes. They were smaller as newborns, two meters at width and twice that amount in length. So Vader would unfortunately be fighting against the babies, but not one. There were at least a hundred of them. Dashing towards the middle of the arena in hordes, spraying the ankle water behind them—a green scaly tide. A good trade off as a 'quality over quantity', Vader will have to prove himself for Maxima's interest further by surviving this ordeal.

Some of the arena fighters decided to act brave and charged against the horde of baby alien crocs out of the middle. Most, if not all, were either uncivilized tribesmen, daring brutes, and animals themselves, charging their own attack. Very few survived when they crashed against the wall of enemies. And very few remains were left.

Fighters who had ranged weapons, like blasters, arrows, and spears used their tools against the horde. Blaster bolts met some of the crocs, arrows were piercing armored skin, and spears cracking through skulls. But the deaths did not even scratch the hordes' numbers.

Vader only stood motionless like a statue until he did something truly amazing. Just at the halfway mark where the croc horde left between their cages and to the middle, Vader bent down a little and made an incredible leap of height, defying his clumsy looks. If he jumped any higher, he would have met the giant holo-screen above the arena. In the tight arc, his cape behind him flapped in the wind like a pair of wings from a shadow-blood bat.

The crocs that saw his airborne maneuver stacked upon one another in a large pile, trying to be the first to have their meals. When going down, she felt an immense psionic surge building up in the flying Vader. Just when the crowd, and her, thought that Vader would be gulped down and chewed apart by the croc pile, he sent what she recognized as a telekinetic shield around him that not only protected him but crushed any croc that was unfortunate enough to be under him.

When he disappeared in the crushed crocs and some more of the beasts were about to pile on him, Vader sent out gigantic telekinetic wave around him that truly stunned her. The crocs that were the closest to the radius of the shockwave literally atomized out of existence. The crocs that were second-to-closet were either turned into pure paste or virtually torn apart by the amount of force the attack had. The crocs that weren't immediately killed were flung back in the air, either landing on the ground in a splashy and bloody explosion or hitting the domed ray-shielding around the pit arena, turning into ash.

The arena's artificial metal ground cracked and the debris flew across the arena, crushing crocs, being pulverized by the arena's ray-shielding and killing a few poor arena fighter saps. Water splashed from the explosion, then coming back down in a shower of water and blood. The entire stadium shook as if a horrible earthquake occurred. Some arena watchers fell and were knocked off their feet. Maxima's felt the quake and grabbed onto her chair, Sazu held her chair in a death grip as she sent a 'yelp'. Maxima's servant girls made the same sound of surprise while falling to the floor, her guards grabbed onto the wall.

When the quake stopped, there was a moment of silence that stunned the once roaring crowd. When it passed, the crowd went wild and berserk in a booming thrill never seen before, the roars of excitement were near deafening and closely resembled the sound of heavy rain from a thunderstorm. They started to chant, "VADER! VADER! VADER! VADER!" The rabble that spat our slurs and insults at the obsidian man now loved him.

The shockwaves at least halved the hordes' numbers. The survivors were either heading towards Vader in a red-seeing hungry rage or pressed on their attack on the arena fighters. The arena fighters in question were either already dead, about to be ripped to pieces by crocs, fighting for their lives, or just running away.

The crocs that resumed the charge on Vader met a surprise, for when they got close to biting range at the crater he made, he ended them with his laser sword. Like a butcher, he hacked off arms, legs, heads, snouts, torsos and even made some go in half. The red blade cauterized the crocs' wounds, sending the smell of a meaty roast in the making around arena. It burned and melted through their scaly armor, flesh, and bone. Each swing, thrust, jab, and turn he made with his red energy blade killed or dismembered a beast.

To some peasant eyes, it might seem a barbaric way of dispatching the monstrous creatures. But to Lady Maxima, it was a glorious show of swordsmanship and heart pounding to see his skills on full display. He moved his blade in preternatural speeds and skill, weaving fans of red energy and spiraling the blade to a point where it was even difficult for her to keep up. He used the blade as if it was weightless. His footwork was phenomenal, his balance was never in question, even with the ankle deep bloody water or the maneuvers he made. Every move he made was a calculated killing blow he somehow knew it was gonna happen.

A croc tried to jump behind him as he sliced three charging crocs at once. He somehow knew despite having his back turned to the animal, for when it was on him, he simply moved his blade straight up and the croc met the blade with its face. The croc's momentum from the jump kept it going and so the animal was cut in half, vertically. It's remains splashed down onto the bloody water.

His psionic powers, or even magic at this point, was another thing that excited her. Just when he was finished off all of the crocs that tried to eat him by turning them into a pile of corpses, seven of the beasts rushed in a row to take vengeance on their fallen siblings. He made a simple hand wave and a portion of water in front of him turned into a thin sheet of blood infused water that blurred to the charging crocs.

As if spewing out of a water cutter, it jetted to the crocs and sliced their heads off by the way it came at them at an angle. The headless crocs geysered blood out of their stumps where their heads used to be and fell into the red water in heaps.

The arena was an entire pool of blood and carnage.

Vader continued to cut down the horde or use his powers to crush or pulverize them while whatever was left of the arena fighters struggled with their lives. In that moment with the crowds cheering out for Vader, she was too, but not openly at any rate. She followed him with her eyes, seeing the man showing his strength and skill before her. Her mind went wild to many things, some of which were to take that mask off and see how handsome he could be. Her heart pounded in her chest loudly and quickly, as if it too wanted to meet the lovely man by bursting out of her chest.

In that moment, amongst the cheering rabble, screaming arena fighters, croc animals cryin out in pain from Vader's wrath, and Sazu's complaining of Vader's ungentlemanly behavior, it seemed the entire universe was just her and Darth Vader. At that moment, one question whispered to her, "Is he the one?"

***​

A crocodilian beast was bisected by the waist from Vader's lightsaber and its body splashed into the thick bloody water. Another tried to lunge at him, wanting to drive its teeth into him. Vader's precognition already showed this to him before it even happened and he whirled the Sith blade at the pouching predator then chomped it to pieces.

Three of the beasts attempted to charge at Vader while they must've thought he would be distracted, they were wrong as in a blinding motion, Vader waved and made a force push blasted the crocs away and made them crash into the pit's walls. The extreme force and speed turned their once horrifying appearances into goopy gore and bones when they made contact with the metal wall.

When he thought that anymore crocs would try to attack him, none did, for he practically slaughtered a majority of them. Either they were dead or alive, the ones still living lost interest in him, for they had watched their brothers and sisters fall to the man and decided it was best not to provoke him any further. For that, they either gorged themselves on their said fallen brothers and sisters, chewing up the dead ex-slaves, or continued their attack on whoever was left.

Now not being relentlessly attacked by the scaly monsters, Vader took a minute in himself as he stood in a literal blood bath while the carnage continued. What he initially expected when he unleashed his Sith powers was the crowd to become horrified and Mongul more so. Yet that hasn't happened.

The crowd seemed to love him now, chanting his name as if he was their new champion, a champion not so long ago they despised and wanted to see torn apart. Simple minded, Mongul's subjects don't seem to question what, who, and why are there any gladiators in the arena to begin with or where they come from. They seem to only care about the game's violent show and nothing more, at least not entirely.

When Vader openly protested and defied Mongul in front of his subjects, they almost forgot their fury at him and showed some semblance of questioning Mongul's rule. Yet Mongul, a somewhat competent manipulator, Vader realized, returned their attention to the games and pretended as if nothing happened from the discussion.

"Pathetic creatures…" he said disgustingly inwardly.

Though mindless rabble they were, Vader had to give them an extremely little amount of credit for they seemed to value strength over anything else. That explained why they forgot their hatred of the Dark Lord and enjoyed his show of warlock powers when the arena fight started. Which Vader pondered if he could exploit that mindset in his own way when confronting Mongul.

Speaking of strength, he wasn't ignorant when he felt an attempted telepathic mind probe targeted at him which he deflected with no strain on his part. Strangely and unexpectedly, the woman that he felt that tried to read his mind had no strength in the Force so to speak of, this was no shock to Vader, for there were telepathic species and individuals who had no force powers but could use telepathy. What was strange about was her unusual strength in her telepathy powers, but her strength in such a gift was no match to his fortitude Sith mind and his mastery of the dark side. Both could never be rivaled by such telepathic parlor tricks.

Then there was Mongul. Vader thought and almost predicted that the warlord of this pitiful planet and arena would be freighted by the Sith's powers. Yet that wasn't entirely the case, Vader felt that the yellow alien seemed a little concerned but at the same time was joyful over Vader's powers. That was not what Darth Vader intended to happen.

He let himself be involved in these childish games to show his true power and submit his command over the ordinary beings around him. He was supposed to be treated as a being of terrifying power, not a hapless gladiatorial fool. He had humiliated himself and understood that these games will not have any power over him nor does this Mongul.

All of this comes to one conclusion; he had enough of all of this.

He deactivated his lightsaber and stored it on his belt. Then he went into the force, imagined a hand picking up every croc beast and snapping their necks. The force let his image become reality, the crocs that were eating or fighting suddenly were lifted up in the air and their necks were twisted in an unnatural way. The sounds of bones cracking sounded as if someone was stepping on a stick-covered forest floor. He dropped his hand and the lifeless bodies of the once hungry and predatory creatures splashed onto the large crimson pool.

Silence entered the arena. The roaring crowd stopped their chants and loud cheers as Vader showed his frustration openly. What was left of the fifty ex-slaves now reduced to only seven, all of whom were covered in blood. The lack of sound in the large arena seemed perpetual but only for a moment as the crowd cheered and yelled in absolute excitement.

Vader narrows his eyes under his black-colored helmet, "SILENCE!" His voice made a slight rumble across the stadium. As though a hand was put on the mouth of every single being in the arena, their yelling ceased and silence returned, excitement turning into slight terror now. Vader's breathing was heard across the arena. He pointed at the still seated Mongul. "MONGUL! I have enough of these pointless games!" Mongul's grin from the bloody games went away and his face morphed into one of annoyance.

"You have proven yourself to be a pest in my presence and a pathetic ruler for these rabble!" Vader voiced his lack of patience out in the arena. The scared audience took glances between the Sith Lord and their ruler. "Once more!" He continued, "You have humiliated me for your own petty amusement! That shall end, for I am a Dark Lord of the Sith and I will!…" Vader's speech was cut short when the same feeling of him being plucked up was felt and the bright blue energy surrounded and engulfed him.

***​

When that transporter's energy ended and the feeling of his physical being completed, Vader didn't finish his speech on what he was going to do to Mongul. For he wasn't in the arena anymore but instead an actual dungeon. His helmet's visual sensors adjusting to the darkness, this dungeon was in the style of a holding area of a castle. Semi illuminated by the bars above in the ceiling, tall and wide, the dungeon was made up of gray bricks and support beams that ran parallel in the large room.

There were other beings as well, not the seven ex-slaves, though they have also been teleported from the arena. These beings this time were in slave garbs and rags, consisting of various species yet more barbarian and dangerous looking male aliens. The dungeon inhabitants went up to Vader and the ex-slaves excitedly.

Vader twitched a finger and all of the blood that plagued his suit went off to the ground, splattering. He also noticed that somehow, Larfleeze the dog survived the massacre. Whether by hiding or fighting was beyond Vader's knowledge nor does he care the slightest. The dog's once orange fur now soaked in blood while some gore trapped itself in his hair, he was shaking profusely, had wide open eyes, and had his hand up as if he was holding a blaster. Vader suspected that the teleporter separated the ex-slaves' weapons from them.

This teleportation technology is becoming a nuisance. Being probably the first one of his galaxy to experience the wonder technology in maybe many millennia, he has no real counter measure or plan to stop himself be teleported against his will. The only real advantage he has is the force warning of him being transported from one place to another. The only idea he thought of at that time was that he could cocooned himself by creating a protective shield of force energy and have that stop whatever was locking on to him. That was, if he gets transported again.

The dungeon rabble handed Larfleeze and the survivors rags and towels to clean themselves from the blood while they cheered on the group, especially Vader. The cheers died a little and one of the dungeon folk walked up and happily proclaimed to Vader, "You defied Mongul!" He said with a smile and a gruffly voice, "And it was great!"

Vader looked down at the short, three eyed, rough skin, grayish complexion, and toad-like alien, then at the rest of the dungeon dwellers with a mocking reprimanded question. "Are all of you too cowardly to do such a thing?"

The dungeon dwellers expressions' darkened and a big alien appeared behind the smaller one, with his ogre-like appearance and in peasant clothing, he responded, "All of us like to live," he rubbed the back of his neck, "Well, all except Draaga," he shrugged his big shoulders, "But I guess he decided he liked living too."

"And…" Vader asked, "Who is this, Draaga?"

"You don't know who Draaga is!" The smaller alien asked, astonished. The other dungeon aliens felt the same way.

The somewhat blood-free Larfleeze went up to the Dark Lord and said, "My lord," he said in a pleasing tone, "Draaga is one of the most well known warriors of the galaxy and the undefeated champion of Mongul's arena." He shook his head, "He is strong and powerful, Lord Vader, I don't think you can-," Vader looked down at Larfleeze and the dog caught himself from continuing. "I mean…your power is beyond his of course." He bowed.

Vader looking back at the dungeon huddle he placed his hands on his belt. "If this Draaga is too cowardly to stand up for his freedom like the rest of you…" he said to them which made them go into disbelief shock, "Then his existence is beneath my attention."

The surprised aliens looked at each other and the big alien said, "You won't be saying that when you fight him," he pointed out, "Mongul is probably gonna make you fight him for going up against him in the first place. He's already at the arena now. Draaga ain't no joke."

"That remains…" Vader responded to the warning, "To be seen."

As if the universe heard him, Vader felt another sense from the Force that he was about to be transported. Quickly he rallied in himself, creating a protective shield of force energy around him. He felt the transport energy come at him at light speed, traversing at incredible speeds just for him.

But surprisingly, it ignored the shield and took hold of him once more, his world becoming light.

***​

When the light disappeared and his helmet's night vision activating to let his damaged eyes see where he was at, he was annoyed once again. The transporter beams somehow infiltrated his force shield and beam him across to wherever he is at now. It was beyond frustrating. Vader was not a scientist, not in the realm of physics or involving molecules. When stealing the skills of the once and great pilot, Anakin Skywalker, Vader has an amazing ability to pilot, understand Ship mechanics, and droids to even build one of his own but has no experience on whatever science transportation technology goes to. Perhaps he needs to strengthen his force shield if there is a next time.

When observing around him, it was like the cylinder chasm Vader and the ex-slaves found themselves after being beamed for the first time. This time though, it seemed smaller just for one individual. Like before, the platform he stood on rose and the doors of the ceiling opened to allow him to be out in the arena, where the crowd chanted out his name.

He expected the arena to be still full of blood but instead found it mostly clean. Floating cleaning droids vacuumed up puddles of blood and mounds of gore. Stench of death still lingered in the air. The crater Vader created was still there.

Mongul, still in his chair on the viewing platform, rose up and gestured for his subject's silence, "Friends! Darth Vader had proven himself as an esteemed warrior! But! But will he be able to defeat…" he pointed down at the pit, "Draaga?!"

A hatch opened and the platform that rose from it carried a massive humanoid. Taller than Vader and heavily muscled, the barbarian alien had gray skin, battle gauntlets, boots, and a codpiece made of the same metallic material. He has a metal helmet that protected all by the front of his face on his head, one lone shoulder armor pauldron on his right shoulder ran a thick heavy chain across to the lower left of his bottom torso.

The barbarian had a heavily scarred body, including the right side of his face where it seemed like he was burned at some point with his right eye completely white from too much damage. He stood still with his large battle ax while the crowd was chanting from 'Vader' to now 'Draaga', not that Vader really cared.

This Draaga, if Vader was correct, gave the Dark Lord an unimpressed look and spat on the metallic floor, "You don't look like much, cyborg."

Vader didn't say or move as an answer, only letting his breathing be heard. "Well 'Dark Lord of the Sith?'" Mongul asked with a mocking manner, "Anything to say before you're sent to fight Draaga?!"

Darth Vader didn't say anything.

"Silent treatment eh?" Mongul said, "…well, let's just see if you stay silent when Warworld been done with you!" The crowd wildly chanted 'Warworld' while the same annoying teleporter feeling was felt by Vader. This time, the Sith created a bigger and stronger force shield around him. Alas, the same thing happened and the Dark Lord of the Sith and the undisputed champion of Warworld disappeared.

***​

Being reformed again, Vader's feelings on being transported against his will went from annoyed to angry hot. The audacity of Mongul doing such a thing to a Sith Lord will have to constitute a punishment on the warlord. Vader's approach to defend himself against the lightspeed beam of energy with a force shield had failed twice now. Impossible that it might be, it was a problem that seemed to have no countermeasure. Then he thought of another solution.

Perhaps he was doing it all wrong, perhaps instead of summoning a force shield against the ray of teleporter energy, he should instead catch and contain it with his skills of tutaminis. The force technique, in the right hands, can dissipate, negate, absorb, or redirect many forms of light, heat, energy, and radiation. If the same rules apply to the new form of energy Vader found, then he should be able to at least use it from getting himself teleporting. He would just need to be fast enough to do it and prepare himself when the time comes.

Observing through his Sith helmet and through the force, he discovered he was on an entirely different planet. Instead of an arena he thought he would be at, he was actually in the middle of a devastated city. Concrete and dura-steel like buildings and homes in total disarray or in complete ruin. Vehicles and bikes that once looked like they were civilian repulsor cars of some sort were reduced to nothing but scrap or empty frames.

The city looked as though a war rampaged through its once bustling streets and perhaps it was that so. He looked up at the red tinted sky and saw what might have been Warworld. The planet was a large orb that dominated the sky with its blue oceans and green continents to give it color. If that planet was indeed Warworld, then whatever Vader was standing on must've been a moon and the rubble he is in, a city.

Vader felt the presence of another and turned to that direction, seeing the Draaga warrior with his ax at the ready. "Well…" the large brute gladiator said, "You gonna make your first move?"

A floating droid in the shape of an orb and with one lone photoreceptor entered their vicinity and Vader assumed that it was recording for the masses and Mongul to watch the duel. The camera droid also had a speaker that recorded all of the noises of what the crowd was making, for he heard the electrical transmission sounds of the crowds chanting Draaga's name, and for a lesser extent, Vader's as well.

The Dark Lord gazed at the brute warrior for a moment and replied harshly, "I will do no such thing," he said, cold as ice, "A coward as yourself who is too afraid to fight for your own freedom doesn't deserve my attention in that manner." He pointed at Draaga who started to fume at the Sith's taunts, "You are beneath me, you are less than an animal, Draaga."

Draaga, blistering now with rage, was about to scream at Vader but stopped himself when he saw the Camera droid in view. He twisted his mouth, "You don't understand cyborg!" He loudly explained, "There is more to it than me serving Lord Mongul!"

"Your servitude to Mongul," Vader responded, "Says otherwise."

Draaga gritted his large and dirty teeth, "A cold and heartless cyborg as yourself wouldn't understand why I am in here!" He shook his head with purpose, "You will never understand…"

Darth Vader lost his patience, "The words of a coward who will not explain his actions are just as useful to me as dirt."

Vader's words provoked the barbarian into a charge with a loud war cry, raising his ax to chop Vader into two. Before he could do that, Vader simply waved off his hand and the charging Draaga was blasted to the side by force energy into nearby rubble. The large champion crashed and disappeared into large damaged slabs on concrete and a thick cloud of dust. What used to be that building he went into was even less now as the weak foundation crumbled to the ground, piling on Draaga.

The roaring voices of the crowd was silenced when the event occurred and Vader only took a glance at it and began to walk away. He took two paces away when he stopped when he heard and felt that Draaga was indeed alive. His vocoder sent out his annoyance when he turned around and saw the rubble move. Draaga erupted from the debris, green blood on his head and spat a tooth out. The crowd roared in his name.

"You are…" Vader voiced his annoyance, "an irritant."

"Irritant this!" Draaga cocked his axe arm back and sent the weapon towards the Sith. It swirled in the air at its intended target.

Vader reached out his hand and caught the ax by the handle while the blade was inches away from hitting his helmet. Draaga's one good eye went wide. Then the Sith made the ax levitate, he closed his black glove to a fist, and the weapon was crushed into dust.

Draaga continued his assault by grabbing onto a large piece of concrete three times his size and hurled it at the Dark Lord. At the midpoint of the debris being in the air, Vader took his hand out and made the giant piece stop in the air. Draaga and the crows were surprised. Vader twitched his hand forward and the rock blasted back to Draaga faster than before. Draaga wasn't fast enough and so was battered away when the large slab crashed against him and made him go onto another rubble, destroying the semi-erect building into a cloud of dust.

Knowing now that Draaga was stronger and tougher than most sentients, Vader went to where Draaga crashed to while the floating eye droid recorded behind him. When he got to where Draaga was last seen, he stood in the rubble of what used to be a small apartment complex. Draaga bursted out of the debris, enraged and sending rubble across the area. Before Vader could attack, Draaga caught the Sith Lord by the cape and started to whirl him around, becoming a tornado with Vader unable to do anything. Vader's world becomes a blur. Draaga released his grip on the cape and sent the Dark Lord through a concrete wall.

Vader's fall was broken by another wall he connected with after he bursted through the first. His vocoder sent out his gasp of pain when he went onto the floor, his breathing becoming damaged wheezing. Kneeling on the hard ground, Vader was then picked up by Draaga's big hands and placed over the brutes' head. One hand on his legs and one on his chest, the warrior was prepared to rip the Dark Lord in half with his bare hands.

"YOU THINK I WANT THIS!" An angry Draaga yelled out while he was about to pull apart the Sith. "YOU THINK I WANT TO BE UNDER MONGUL?!"

Vader halted this brutal attempt as he quickly activated his lightsaber and cut off the brute's right hand. His hand with its gauntlet still attached clacked to the ground as smoke trailed from his stump of an arm. Draaga screamed in agony while the camera droid projected the audience's shock. Draaga threw Vader at a nearby concrete wall then grasped his cauterized arm.

Darth Vader got back up when he was thrown at the wall, when he moved his head, he saw an enraged Draaga pickup a large rubble with his only good hand and was charging at him. Vader, having had enough of these games, made a force grip on the large champion. Draaga was lifted off the air, dropped his makeshift weapon, and grasped his throat as he was being choked by the force. Draaga's legs dangled in the air, as though that would get him back on land and his face was turning white.

Though he was heavy and slightly harder to choke, Draaga's brute strength was no match for Vader's Sith powers. Wanting to get rid of the nuisance, he gathered force energy in his hand and when he thought it was enough, sent a powerful force push towards the champion.

The wave of force energy absolutely devastated the already destroyed city, making debris turn into dust, broken vehicles into pure heaps of scrap, turning the ruined buildings into debris and making Draaga disappear amongst the horrible whirlwind. The attack caused an enormous earthquake in that section of the city, which caused even more buildings to collapse. That section of the city now reduced to dust and had very little evidence that suggested that it was once a city.

When the dust settled and the quakes stopped, Vader sensed that that barbarian was surprisingly alive though barely at the threshold. It was remarkable that this being was capable of surviving such a devastating attack, but this was not shocking to Vader. Draaga's strength reminded the Sith Lord of the hardy and dangerous alien race of his galaxy, the Gen'Dai.

Consisting of nerves and muscles with no ounce of bone in their bodies, the Gen'Dai race has proven to his galaxy that they were very difficult to kill, even to those who have the force. But difficulty does not translate to impossible, and anything thought impossible can be done with those who have the force and the sheer power of the dark side at their disposal.

Now unchallenged, he walked to where the near-dead Draaga was at, who was flung across at least three city blocks. When Vader reached Draaga, his breathing apparatus returned to its normal rhythmic cycle. Vader was now standing tall against the now laying Draaga.

His feet buried in rubble and chest cavity cracked like an egg, gushing out green blood, Draaga's breathing was harsh and very much labored on his end. His right side of his body, including his face, now had no skin, his green muscle with oozing blood was exposed. Draaga looked up at the Sith and tried to speak but only spat blood.

Vader activated his lightsaber, "You've gotten a lot farther than you should have," Vader admitted down to the wheezing Draaga who was in indescribable pain. "But then you haven't met a Sith either. Your life is at an end, Draaga…" Vader raised his lightsaber, prepared to take Draaga's life. "It is time to meet whatever pathetic gods you believe in."

"W-wait," Draaga sent out a gurgling plea, "waaaait."

Vader didn't strike down his opponent, at least not yet. "Begging for mercy?" He coldly mocked.

Draaga summoned enough energy to shake his head side to side slowly and speak, "Yes…but not," he coughs up green blood, "of my own."

Vader, curious and sensing an opportunity that was whispered by the dark side, put down his lightsaber to his side. "Then speak, while you're still able to, Draaga."

The floating eye droid interjected by going in between them and the voice of Mongul came out of the droid. "Finish him, Vader, the people have spoken to get rid of Draaga for losing." Vader heard the droid transmit the sounds of the crowd wanting Vader to end Draaga. The Sith Lord will, but only because he wanted to, not because of Mongul's game or the rabble desire to.

"I kill…" Vader corrected, "not because you command me, Mongul. I chose who lives or dies whether they deserve it or not." He looked down at Draaga, "Draaga has proven himself to be a worthy opponent, so I will grant him the worthy of speaking."

"You can't refuse!" The angry voice of Mongul said through the droid, "I order you to finish him now!"

"You have no power over me, Mongul." Vader stated, "And I shall no longer suffer your presence." Before the droid could escape or Mongul could have any words, Vader quickly grabbed the droid with his free hand and smashed it. The droid sent out an artificial whine of pain then was turned into scrap metal. Vader dropped the remains on the rubble and lowered his head to Draaga, "Now speak before I change my mind."

Draaga breathed in and said in a labored voice, "I…don't fight…b-because…of me." He coughed again, "I fight…f-for…for my people. Mongul thre-," Draaga's eyes somewhat lowered as though death was taking hold of him to eternal sleep but he managed to gain the strength to fight against the urge, "Threaten my world's destruction...if…I don't…fight."

Vader understood now and has now newfound respect for the brute…almost but now entirely to change his mind of killing him. He also undertsood why Mongul wanted to him to kill Draaga before he said anything, before he spoke out his blackmail in front of the masses. "And what am I supposed to do with that information? What am I to gain from this?"

Draaga coughed some more blood, "Kill Mongul…if you do…" the warrior's exhaustion was taking a toll on him, "You'll be…warlords…ruler. He…has...a laser…to destroy…planets…kill…him…and…it's yours."

Vader considered this. "A ruler?" He asked himself. A ruler of a hive of ne'er-do-wells and mindless rabble, he noted. Before he was taken out of his galaxy, he was the second-in-command to the Galactic Empire. Going to one of the highest levels of power in the most powerful empire in galactic history to be ruler of a planet with no real significant value of any sort was not in Vader's plans. But he also knows his position at the moment and the information Draaga provided will be indeed useful.

"Your knowledge is noted, Draaga." Vader finally said before Draaga's life is on death's end. "Take comfort in knowing that I will take Mongul's life and your planet is spared for now, but only because I said so. To one warrior to another," he raised up his lightsaber, "To one servant to another, I release you of your bondage, and grant you a warrior's death."

Despite all of the pain and suffering Draaga felt, the warrior lifted up a smile on his damaged face and closed his eyes, with no hint of sadness on him. Only joy was seen. Whether knowing that his tormenter's death is at hand, he will be granted eternal sleep, his people saved, or all of those was beyond Vader. The smile was still on Draaga's face when Vader brought down the lightsaber. The smile was still on Draaga's head when it rolled off his shoulders. The smile was still on when Draaga's head lay motionless, forever.

Vader sensed the approach of another eye droid and four floating security droids that most definitely were under Mongul's control. The droids surrounded Vader in a circle, blaster arms at the ready. He also felt the approach of a combat freighter entering the atmosphere and now coming into view above the city.

"I had so much hope for you," Mongul's voice said, almost sad and disappointed. "But I'm afraid I'll have to make an example out of you." The floating eyedroid looked at the droid guards. "Kill him."

The droids' hands fired out a blue beam of killing energy, one at each hand, towards the Sith Lord. Vader, knowing that it would happen, summoned a force shield around him that made the laser fire bounce off the shield and back to their respective sources. The droids weren't expecting this to happen nor had the real computer strength to move out of the way in time, and so their own fire hit them and they turned into clouds of fire and droid parts.

The clouds of smoke vanished with Vader only staring at the eye droid, which he knew Mongul was behind. "The only one," Vader said, "that will be made an example of," He pointed at the silent camera droid, "Is you, Mongul. And the only hope you should have is a quick and painless death. But I will be truthful to you, for that will not happen."

"We'll see about that…" Mongul replied, "When you're teleported in space!"

Vader felt the force warning him that he was being targeted and that feeling will turn into him being teleported. Rallying in himself, he focused on the beam of energy that left Warworld and towards the moon at lightspeed. In a fraction of second, where it pierced the moon's gravity, the atmosphere, and above Vader, the Dark lord caught the beam of energy in his hands.

The energy was hard to contain at first, his hands shaking from the total concentration he needed. The energy was now encased in a blue orb of sparkling and chaotic light. After a moment, his will on the energy was constructed and the blue orb of teleport energy sat in his right hand as he showed it to the camera droid. "You have nothing to threaten me with, Mongul."

Vader extended his right hand and the energy dissipates and is absorbed to his body, The tutaminis technique channeled the energy and granted him more power now. Mongul responded through the droid, "I would like to see you try when my men blast that moon you're on!"

Vader looked up at the ship in the sky, seeing turrets and batteries turning in his general direction. He can feel the firing arcs and vectors on him in the moment. Vader replied back, "I have no concern for the actions of men who are already dead…" Vader raised his right arm, with his palm facing the ship and began summoning pure dark side energies.

Force destruction was among the many Sith teachings, techniques, and powers Sidious had taught Vader during the early years of his Sith apprenticeship. Though the energy can be and most often conjured through the practitioner's hand. However, through deliberate concentration, the awareness of that energy could damage his suit's electrical systems, and practice, Vader can summon the ball of deadly energy away from his hand while close enough to draw energy from his body. This, of course, adds on more focus than it is required to the already focused-intensive technique. With him absorbing the teleporter energy, he would have enough stored energy to use the attack while keeping his reserves untapped.

He was like a sculptor; his mind was like an invisible hands to craft, and the dark side were clay, all used to create a terrifying art piece of his design. The ball of dark side energy formed closed to his hand, swirling with power and eager to destroy. Once Vader thought that he had enough power, his hold on the red light ceased and the ball of dark side energy blurred to the middle of the ship.

The blast ruptured an explosion that shook the ship and snapped it in half, frames and beams melted from the explosion. The impact created a concussion shockwave that rocked damaged structures to the ground. The two parts of the ship fell from the sky, bellowing smoke from the sides that used to be connected, and the sections crashed onto the ruined city. The collision shook the ruins, sending vast gusts of wind, smoke, and dust across the streets. Buildings that still had the semblance of a structure fell from the shockwave and the extreme quakes.

When the chaos stopped, fires continued to, the ship lay in ruins and more so the city. Vader grabbed the droid and had the camera point at him. "Let this be our final conversation, Mongul." Vader coldly declared, "For the next time we see each, will be our last, for I will come for you, and I will have your head." Vader crushed the camera droid, done conversing with the fool, and dropped the parts to the ground.

Alone now, he was confident that whatever pathetic weapon, plan, or army Mongul could stall the inevitable. Vader will kill Mongul, that decision is already decided and in the works. His imagination of it will become reality. It has already happened, he could sense it, he just needs to know how.

Though he has discovered how to negate teleportation technology from taking him away without his permission, using said technology and energy to teleport himself would be a challenge to come up with. That could wait, for he will have to find a conventional means of travel. Vader had doubts that the ruined city he was in had no available ships of any sort. Either they were destroyed by the same event that took the city, scrapped, or taken by Mongul's men so that arena fighters wouldn't escape.

Looking at the ruins of what used to be a ship, the size of the craft looked like it had an hangar and therefore a small ship that could've survived the crash. He walked to the crash site, he will need to hurry and find the means of his escape; otherwise, Mongul will send his men to the moon. But Vader wasn't worried, for he was Sith, and he will kill Mongul.

***​

notes

yeah vader can now do Force destruction fight me, Like if he's like 80 percent to palps power, then he should be able to do it, regardless of his artificial limbs. I hope you guys liked the fight scenes. if some of you caught that frank horrigan reference great! I also hope you guys are fine with him deflecting that teleport energy, not alot of that in star wars so had to come up a solution. Next we will see Vader vs Mongul.

 

[PistolPete76]

I do not own any of the Star Wars and DC characters and ideas represented in this work.

"I know that I cannot win this battle. Nor do I wish to kill the kind-hearted man who still lives inside this black shell. So I turn to this death, to this sleep. A sleep that promises me dreams of peace." - Ben Kenobi​

There were many things Sazu didn't like, however, there were a few that, as the common folk saying goes, 'ruffled her feathers'. Unclean clothing, furniture, and uncleanliness altogether, having people talk to her mistress, Queen Maxima, without an appointment, and speaking of which, her rather brash, youthful, sometimes ignorant, hormonal, Queen is trying to find a worthy suitor for her.

Sometimes, and thankfully, not many of those things happen, except for the last part, of course. Maxima, since her coronation to become the Almercian Queen, has been trying to find a king beside her own. The suitor in question needed to be just as strong and powerful in body and mind as Maxima to complete her quest. That mentality led Mistress Maxima to chase after many dubious, scandalous, barbaric, and rather grimly uncivilized gentlemen. Her doing so somewhat caused a stir in Almerac and the people who live in it, the cause being Maxima simply ignoring her royal duties.

While still not proud of it, during that time of Maxima chasing aliens and ignoring her council's plea to actually rule, Sazu one day, some couple of years ago, said, 'enough is enough!' And she planned a coup against Maxima. One thing led to another: Sazu conceived some rather embarrassing feelings for a man named De'Cine; they staged the coup; De'Cine showed himself as an ungently man and betrayed her; she almost got killed by Maxima, and De'Cine gets dethroned for his rather short reign by Maxima and the Kryptonian.

The whole ordeal was very much a mess and very complicated, she can say that.

But after the event, both she and Maxima were eventually humbled, realizing that their whole decisions in life had caused the whole fiasco. Maxima realized that she may have gotten too fixated on finding a mate and ignored her duties. Sazu realized that she made the error of trusting a brute because he was the only man that listened to her, which he probably did so to gain her trust, and she hadn't bothered to talk with her lady.

At the end, they both were taught the errors of their ways and lived happily ever after…that is what most people would think at the very least.

Almerac has seen better days. Though completely downtrodden, the glory days of the Almeracian Empire that struck fear in their section of that galaxy were long gone. Maxima, though promised to hear her people and the wishes of the council, Sazu can see that Maxima wasn't really born to fit in the role. Yes, she was a very good warrior, swordswoman, and tactician when it came to it, but the world of trade, taxes, laws, and principles were not translatable to leading armies or exchanging hand-to-hand blows. Even when the Queen has put in her full effort into ruling, it usually ends up utterly failing. In addition, she may have also relapsed on finding a man to be her betrothed.

Rather annoying.

Sazu, though, does not realize that this will annoy her later on, for the only thing currently bringing up her frustrations is herself and her lady now walking through the streets of Warworld's capital city. Many forms of sentients were walking, bartering, and working in the streets. While many other forms of homeless, squatters, scantily looking females, and shifty-looking individuals were also present during their walk, All of these things also brought forth many forms of smells, sights, and sounds that she would rather not deal with at the moment.

Yet, her Queen Maxima insisted on walking through the streets after Mongul's games were abruptly canceled. Strangely, Maxima also seemed disappointed and even sad when the announcement from the warlord was made. Maxima was here on this planet for the single purpose of "blowing off some steam," which Sazu didn't question. But after an actual bloodbath happened and a rather barbarian-like, dark-cloaked brute cleaved those creatures apart, Maxima's taste for excitement didn't seem to quench itself.

As they walked through the bustling streets, Maxima sighed theatrically. Much like Maxima, Sazu was telepathic herself and would often want to sense her mistress's feelings. However, it was considered taboo to do such a thing to a royal without their consent, so she bothered not to. "Is there something wrong, my lady?"

"Oh, I don't know, Sazu." Maxima said this after a moment of thought. "One moment you get your hopes up on something, and the next thing you know…you just have another disappointment on your hands."

Sazu had a very, very strong feeling that she knew what her queen was saying and implying with her words. She didn't like it. "Is it another suitor, my lady?" Sazu tried her absolute best not to show her contempt and annoyance and not to conduct an eyeroll in front of her mistress.

Queen Maxima shrugged her shoulders and almost pouted. "I suppose so, but I guess..." she stopped when a deafening air siren was heard across the city. The loud mechanical yell stopped the common folk from whatever deed, deal, or other daily task they did when they too stopped and looked into the sky. Sazu and Maxima looked up at the sky and saw a lone starfighter coming through the clouds and heading towards Mongul's palace.

From its design and aftermarket parts, it looked like it was one of Mongul's ships in his personal fleet, yet curiously, the palace's integrated point-defense systems started to spray flak fire at the incoming fighter while an entire squadron of the same fighter design went to intercept the assailant. Flak fire burst clouds of energy around the ship, but none were successful, for the lone ship dodged the barrage seemingly effortlessly.

The squadron fired their own volley, trying to get their quarry, but the pilot dodged and maneuvered the rain of fire. One would think this pilot was crazy for going into an entire swarm of fighters head-on, and Sazu thought so. Just when some would think he would crash into the swarm, he fired his own weapon systems with frightening precision. He pierced through the cloud of fighters, spinning while firing his guns, creating a whirlwind of deadly energy. The fighters disappeared into blossoms of superheated gas, wings being blown apart and making them crash into one another, or some being so badly damaged that they unfortunately crashed into parts of the city.

There were at least thirty fighters, but after he struck through their line, there had to be ten left.

The first one that crashed caused a light rumble where they stood, which also caused the citizens to panic. Screams and voices of fear were made, speeders and air cars halted or tried to flee, and shopkeepers closed their stores early. The citizens trampled on one another, causing a stampede that consisted of various sentients. Most ran to their homes, to the nearest structure to hide, or to the rundown buildings for cover.

More and more debris fell from the sky as flak still thundered in the air. Ship parts landed on buildings or on the streets themselves; some even caused fires. Clouds of black smoke begin to emerge while smells of fuel and burned metal reek in the city's semi-polluted air.

In this heart-pounding and chaotic situation, Sazu would rather run like the rest of the rabble, but Maxima only looked starstruck at the rampaging fighter that just now destroyed all of the fighters.

She really had a bad feeling about this.

"It's him, Sazu!" Lady Maxima said excitedly, almost like a child seeing their favorite mascot. She pointed at the fighter, who was just now getting close to the castle despite the flak. "It's him!"

Sazu barely heard her queen amongst the panicked masses, the loud crashes made, and the ear-ringing flak being fired. But when she heard her queen say it the second time and give the pilot 'those eyes', her feeling went from bad to horrible. "What do you mean, 'him' my lady?!"

Maxima whirled at Sazu, eyes wide in ecstasy; her smile was anxiously open. "It's him, Sazu! It's Vader!"

Darth Vader is a man, or she thinks he is, a self-proclaimed 'Dark Lord of the Sith'. A title that she can say she has never heard of; however, it was a title that would've suggested he was not a gentleman of any sort. "My Lady!" She yelled out through the chaos with concern, "What are you suggesting?!"

Maxima couldn't contain herself as she grabbed Sazu with both of her arms. "Can you see Sazu?! He's the one!"

It was Sazu's turn to widen her eyes. "My Lady!" She protested. "What are you saying?!" She was almost in complete denial.

Maxima continued her excitement, "He's the one! He's the one destined to be my mate!" She drew Sazu closer and pointed up at the fighter, "Go ahead! Try to read him!"

Sazu reluctantly turned up but ultimately followed her mistress's wish. She gathered her psychic powers and tried to reach the pilot…and found some absolutely terrifying. This Vader couldn't be called a man for all tenses and purposes. He was a walking shadow, where light and brightness dared not come close to him. He was nothing, dark as an endless pit. He was like a black hole, an anomaly that warped reality itself for his own will, an anomaly that shouldn't exist, yet he was there, mocking the universe.

A terrified Sazu looked back down at her queen and said, "No, my lady!" She said with a desperate protest, "He's not the..."

"HE IS!" Maxima snapped back, "And we're going to see what he's going to do with Mongul!" She turned to the palace, where just now the fighter crashed into a large decorated window. "Come on!" She waved over for Sazu to follow. "We gotta watch!" She dashed towards the palace.

Sazu was left standing in the middle of a near-empty street. "My lady!" She tried to scream for her now-running queen, "MY LADY!" She screeched and had a voice crack at the end. Just before her final attempt to protest her queen's mad run of love, an explosion was unleashed not too far from where she was, which caused several buildings to be reduced to rubble.

The concussive wave almost knocked her off her feet and made her think about her current position in the city and how it would be best to be near her Queen. With a sigh, she lifted up the front of her dress and attempted to run the fastest she could in her high heels. She really wished she had practiced running in the royal courtyard.

***​

The starfighter that Vader took from the moon crashed into a highly decorative stained window in Mongul's castle. It sent colorful shards of glass all over the large and tall palace hallway. The fighter dipped downward and screeched as it continued its momentum on the castle's floor. It showered sparks, the alarms in the cockpit went off, and the wings broke off and jabbed themselves into the walls.

When he was coming close to a wall as it grew bigger and bigger, Vader sent a force push above the hatch; the top of the ship burst open, and the Sith Lord flew upward. The ship crashed and exploded into a ball of flames. When he landed on the ground, he was greeted by companies of Mongul's security spewing out of the smaller corridors and into the grand hall.

These aliens were made up of the same species that captured him, and others were similar humanoids with yellow skin and dressed in blue elastic combat suits. Supported in the air, the security droids in Mongul's army also surrounded Vader, hovering around and above the aliens while the guards cocked and readied their blaster rifles at the Sith. Vader took out his lightsaber and activated it, and then the slaughter began.

The droids and the guards fired their blasters, sending blue beams of killing energy at the Dark Lord, but not one of them hit their mark at any degree. Vader redirected the bolts with his red blade in a blur; he sent back beams of energy with his bare hands or moved his body out of the way of the incoming fire. Blaster bolts were sent back to their shooters or to fellow comrades, dropping them in heaps and bursting the droids in explosions. He quickly reduced their numbers, and he quickly changed some of their allegiances, making them drop their weapons and run away from the carnage.

Vader gathered within himself and attacked with a force repulse around him, sending men and droids away. Either turning them into nothing, bloody pulps, damaged husks, or mangled corpses across the large hallway. When done and no one was shooting at him, he walked amongst the damage he caused. Vader picked a direction that seemed to suggest where the throne room was; if Mongul was as petty as Vader suspected, he would have one.

When he was just about to leave the grand hall, a large group of security guards were about to enter the large hallway on the other side and attack. Lifting his hand up, he made the flames from the crash site excite and head towards the charging group. They didn't have enough time to dodge or flee, and so they were cooked alive as the whirlwind of fire consumed them and reduced them to ashy bodies.

He entered one of the lavish hallways that made up the castle and continued going upward. Along the way, he encountered squads of security guards and droids that tried to shoot him down. He sent bolts back and carved his way through their numbers, moving like a wraith, ridding hands, limbs, heads, and their lives altogether. Some more got wiser from his actions and fled the scene. The more he got up, the more security was likely to be inclined to just drop their weapons and run from the Dark Lord.

When he finally reached the top level, he was unopposed when the lavish decorating finally ended at two large doors. He made a force push, and the two doors buckled into pieces to the room on the other side. Inside was a circular room with a tall ceiling and a large window that had a view of the arena and the greater city outside.

In front of the window was Mongul, sitting on an elaborate throne to support his large weight. Next to him was a large silver cylinder container that he kept straight up by his hand. Mongul had a grin on his yellow, brutish face while the smaller blue alien, perhaps his advisor, shook feverishly at the Sith Lord. The blue alien's face turned white, and he looked like a gazelle that had just spotted a savage beast of the plains. He fled like a cowardly one too. Both men did not train their attention on the fleeing alien.

Now alone with his victim, Vader paced towards the middle of the room with his lightsaber still on, humming and hungry for Mongul's head. There was a brief, pregnant pause in between them that was filled with Vader's active lightsaber, his breathing, and the chaos happening outside that resulted from Vader's destroying those fighters.

Mongul went to say, "Did you really need to do all of…" He gestured behind Vader and cocked a yellow, hairless brow. "That?"

Vader's ire rose, for the fool in front of him hadn't realized what was about to happen and was only treating this as one of his games. He kept his fury in reserve. "What will happen soon, Mongul, I doubt you will be treating it as a game." He foretold the warlord.

Mongul grinned. "I'm sure you will…" he went up from his throne, and then, with the brute strength that Vader felt, he sent the large chair at the Sith Lord.

Vader blasted the chair into rubble with the force. At the same time, Mongul then brought up the canister in Vader's direction and started to twist it. Before Mongul could open the capsule and bring whatever was in it to Vader, the Sith sent his lightsaber at a twirling red vortex to cut Mongul's arm off. The blade made contact with his right arm, but he did not cut it off unexpectedly. It instead left a burn mark that seemed to penetrate the skin, but no more than that. The burn made the yellow warlord yell in pain, drop the canister, and clench his burn wound. The lightsaber returned to its master's black gloved grip.

Mongul's face contorted into anger at the Sith, and he targeted the capsule to retry opening it. He dashed for it, but Vader made a gesture, and the capsule was flung far across the throne room. "Whatever you have planned, Mongul…" Darth Vader declared, "Will not happen."

Mongul narrows his rageful red eyes, "We'll see about that!" He brought his arms out and made a giant clap forward that sent shockwaves across the room.

The wave was as strong as a vengeful typhoon, and the ground shook as the wind from the clap was dangerously fast. Vader was surprised by this feat and staggered back, but summoned a force bubble around him so he wouldn't be hurled back. When the shockwave of the clap ceased, Vader looked back at his quarry, who was now running towards the canister. Vader pushed his hands downward, and the floor beneath them broke and gave into the floor below.

The floor cracked and turned into rubble. The lack of a solid floor made Mongul fall down to the bottom level, along with Vader, who landed safely with the force. The capsule was brought down as well, now sticking out of the debris upright. Whatever was in this room would've been destroyed, but Vader didn't care for that.

Mongul burst out of a pile of rubble, grabbing nearby damaged slabs of his former throne room floor and sending them to the Dark Lord. Vader crushed and blasted the debris with his will, turning it into dust. He sent the last one Mongul threw back at him. Mongul saw this at the last moment and crossed his arms forward to brace himself, The rubble hit him and slightly sent him back, but he wasn't crushed.

Having had enough of this and wanting to finish the deed already, Vader began pulling his hands into his fists and was imagining a powerful and invisible large hand to crush Mongul into fine paste. Mongul's reaction was immediate, and he was forced to kneel under the extreme pressure. Vader continued to pour more force energy, making the ground around Mongul crumble and turn to dust. The crown on his head began to crack and brittle, his clothing ripping apart, blood pouring out of his nose, but the warlord was still alive.

He faced straining and veins popping out. Mongul managed to bring back his arms and smash them into the ground, causing a miniature quake to Vader. Caught off guard, the rubble sent Vader across the room and landed hard on the rubble-piled floor.

Though the pain ran across his body, he added that pain to his own strength and got back up to counter whatever attack Mongul would conduct. When he went up, he was shoved back down to the floor again by a purple blur. Before he could resist, a purple creature took hold of him, and his world was consumed by black.

***​

"Anakin…" a warm, old, motherly, and kind voice called out to him, a voice he had never heard for a long time. "Anakin…wake up, honey." The voice called to him again. "Ani…it's time to get up."

He opened his eyes and saw that they weren't damaged by the light around him. He blinked several times and realized that his body wasn't in constant pain anymore. The unbearable breathing that felt like his lungs were being scraped by sandpaper was gone. The itching synth-skin that clung to his damaged body disappeared. The nerve-racking noises his suit made were no longer there. The heavy and bulky armor that he was trapped in wasn't felt. And his arms—his arms felt real, light.

All were normal.

He was normal.

He lifted up his head, and his heart froze. He was sitting on a table in a room—a kitchen—in a Naboo-style lake house. The person who was calling him to wake up, and was on his side was Shmi Skywalker, the late mother of Anakin Skywalker.

He couldn't let his eyes off of her. His throat became dry, and he heard his heartbeat. He gathered all of the strength in the universe to speak her name, "…mom?"

Her kind smile left, and she became worried. "Is everything alright?" She placed her delicate hand on his undamaged cheek. "You don't look well."

"I…don't think…I…ever…was…mom." He didn't dare leave his gaze on her.

She rubbed his back, trying to comfort him. "Maybe you just need to eat." She looked over to the well-furnished kitchen and said, "Let me get something for you." She left him to be cold and without her touch so she could rummage and make something for her son.

She didn't wear the Tatooine slave dress he saw her most often wear. She wore a hazelnut-colored dress in the style that women in Theed would wear. Clothing that a mother should wear. She looked older, but not too much either. She looked happy. Not a hint of stress lay on her old and gentle face.

A face that, when he saw it the last time, was brutalized, defiled, tortured for amusement, and broken. A face abused by animals! A face that he abandoned! A face that he had the power to save—that he should have saved! A face that he would have saved but he couldn't because there were others who were jealous of his talents. They didn't save her because it wouldn't benefit them!

She wore the face of the mother he failed.

He shed a tear when Shmi went back with a hot plate of food she used to make back on Tatooine. When she put the food in front of him and saw the tear, she wiped the tear away with her finger. She dropped down on one knee and cupped her hand against his face. "Ani…" worried, carried her voice, "What's wrong?"

Her soft and sweet tone made him cry out some more droplets, and his eyes were starting to get red. He sniffed out, "Oh, mom…"

More worry and confusion got to her; she looked at him and didn't know what was happening. Then he heard another voice.

"Anakin?" The voice was a wise, intelligent, kind, and cultured one—a voice that he didn't hear for a long time. "Anakin?"

He turned to the man who had the voice and saw him. Obi-Wan Kenobi, his Jedi Master, a teacher, a negotiator, a fellow Republic Patriot, a comrade, a friend, and a brother.

Obi-Wan exited out of a hallway in his beige-colored Jedi robes, trimmed beard, and clean red hair, walking relaxed and confident as always. Obi-Wan saw Shmi and made a warm smile. "Oh, good morning, Shmi." He faced his former apprentice: "I've been looking for you all day, Anakin." Obi-Wan, oblivious to his former apprentice's condition at the moment, said, "Qui-Gon and Ahsoka have been wanting to speak with you after Lu-," He spots the tears in the younger man's eyes. "Anakin, what's wrong?" He went to the Jedi Knight and attempted to comfort him.

Shmi looked over to Obi-Wan and back at her son. "Anakin…you know if there's something wrong, you can tell us, right?"

He sniffed, "I…I-I don't know anymore." He looked down at the chair, trying to find answers on the polished floor. This can't be real; this isn't happening.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan places a hand on his former Padawan's shoulder and goes on a knee to be level with him. "It's alright to tell us something that's bothering you. I know I haven't always been the best for you for that sort of thing," he looked down and back at. his friend with a reassured smile. "But I've always trusted you, and you can trust me because of that, right?"

He looked at the face he remembered from long ago. He remembered the face of the man, whom he considered a brother. He remembered all of the funny dialogue and bickering they had between each other. He remembered the good times they had in the Jedi Temple. He remembered the courageous acts that they did with one another during the Clone Wars with Ahsoka and Qui-Gon, and…

Qui-Gon…

Qui-Gon is dead, he died on Naboo, way before the Clone Wars, way before he wouldn't even meet Ahsoka. Qui-Gon wanted to train him since he was a boy but didn't get the chance. He was the only one who actually believed in him.

He looked back at the face of the man, and he didn't see the brotherly face he's so accustomed to. He saw the face of the man who never even wanted to train him to begin with. He had always complained, and he was strict to him during his Padawan days. Obi-Wan always had the face of contempt. He was always jealous of his power! And because of that, he held him back! He held him back from his full potential to save his mother! He was the one who betrayed their friendship and brotherhood!

He didn't see the face of the man that he almost loved as a brother; he saw the face of a man who he wanted to kill for almost twenty years. He wanted that because it was truly the face that ruined his life.

He stiffened against Obi-Wan with newfound resolve and snarled at him, "Get away from me…"

Obi-Wan's and Shmi's faces grew in disbelief. "I'm…I'm sorry?" Obi-Wan asked as if he didn't know what he had done. Almost innocently.

He smacked the man's hand off his shoulder and snapped at him, "I said get away from me!"

He went and turned his back against them. Hands on his head, trying to make sense of everything while he felt a rumble around him.

Both of them looked at each other and were in shock. "Anakin," the man who ruined his life said, "I don't think you're well at the moment."

The mother that he couldn't save stepped closer to him and tried to soothe her son. "There's no reason to be angry, Ani. Everything's fine."

"No, it's not!" He spat out. "You're supposed to be!…" he trailed off as images of that horrid Tusken Hut entered his mind.

"Supposed to be what?" She asked, concerned.

Tears rolled down his cheek as he couldn't bear the thought of what happened. "I-…I." He put his head down.

"Anakin?…"

That voice—that one beautiful voice that he lost so many years ago. It came back to him like a ghost. He never thought he would hear that heavenly voice again.

"Anakin, are you alright?" She said it again. He couldn't help but look up and be stunned. His world froze in place when he saw her.

His wife, his lover, his angel, Padme...

She was just as beautiful as the day he lost her. Her brown, curly hair flowed behind her. Her smooth skin gleamed from the Naboo sun. She wore a dress that seemed to be made in heaven. She came out of the hallway with worry on her perfect face. She went to him, put her hands on his, and said, "Ani…what's wrong?"

He could only summon a whine and a sob when answering her, "…Padme."

"Shhhhh," she hushed him and brought her hand over his mane of hair. "It's okay, Ani; the children aren't here; just tell me what's wrong."

Children? They have children? They have a family? A family they were supposed to have but didn't. Children they were supposed to love but didn't. A marriage between themselves but couldn't. Because he couldn't save her. He couldn't protect her, not from the war, the Jedi, Sidious…himself.

At that moment, he knew. He knew it just as he painfully realized it all those years ago when painfully hearing her death.

He didn't lose her to anyone, not like a tragic death that he could've stopped like his mother's. Or a murderous betrayal like Obi-Wan. When he looked at Padme, he saw the face that he had killed on his own. He killed Padme. Anakin Skywalker killed her; he killed them all. He killed his mother because he wasn't strong enough. He killed his best friend because he didn't trust him. And he killed her out of nothing.

She died for nothing.

He dropped to the floor, bringing his hands to his face because he could not bear to see them. He sobbed and cried while Padme, Obi-Wan, and Shmi tried to reason with him and comfort him. But he couldn't hear; he only cried out their names.

"I'M SORRY MOM!" He wallowed out, and the floor began to tremble. He heard her scream, but that was overtaken by the howls of animalistic Sandpeople.

"I'M SORRY OBI-WAN!" He cried and made a stream come out of his eyes. He heard Obi-Wan say, 'Everything will be alright!' but the slash of a red lightsaber cut him down to robes.

The room shook and shook. The entire universe was rocking back and forth. "PADME! He cried out, "PADME!" He opens his raw eyes to try to get one final image of her, only to see Padme clenching her throat, trying to plead with him to stop, but she collapses to the cold metal ground on Mustafar. And he saw that it was his own hand that did it.

He raged and screamed out as the room and the whole world around him crumbled and were ripped apart to nothing. His cries of anger destroyed everything—everything but himself.

***​

He woke up, back into the suit, back into this world, back into this pain. He did not know if he was Anakin or Vader right now. He wasn't sure where Vader began and Anakin ended. Nor did he care at that fuming moment. In that instant, he only saw red; he wanted to kill the nearest living thing next to him, and it happened to be on his chest.

The purple creature, with its starfish-like appearance, some sort of set of flowers on its main body, and its long tendrils, unhooked itself as it tried to scurry away from the Dark Lord. It's already sensed its doom. Vader grabbed it with his hands and ripped it apart into two pieces. Mongul was still in the room, looking at a damaged window, Now he turned to the horribly angry Sith, surprise shown on his face.

Dropping the creature's body, and now up, he screamed out as he couldn't contain his boiling rage, "MONGUL!" His shout shook the castle, the room trembled, support columns cracked and crumbled to the floor, and the windows that were not already broken were shattered by the screams intensity. Mongul put his hands on the floor itself so that he wouldn't get carried away by the wind. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME!"

Mongul brought his hands to his ears as the eruption damaged them. The warlord got up from the ground and explained in a mocking tone, "The plant is a telepathic species that reads the heart's desire and feeds the individual a totally convincing simulation of it." He pointed at Vader, who was now balling his fists in indescribable rage, and said, "You should have stayed in whatever happy fantasy the black mercy granted you."

An explosion of Vader's hatred erupted in him, "Happy?!" His shout rocked the room again, and he put his fists up in the air. "HAAPPYY?!" He brought down his fists, and Mongul was rocketed down through the floor, followed by another sound of him crashing through the bottom floor, then again, and again. Mongul crashed through several floors downward, sounding like an echo of the previous crash.

Vader stomped to the hole Mongul disappeared into and jumped down, his cape flapping like the grim reaper. On the main floor, he landed in the grand hallway, where he crash-landed his fighter. When he was down, he saw Mongul getting back up from a crater, groaning but still alive. "DO YOU KNOW!…" his scream sent a rumble through the great hallway, "WHAT I'VE LOST?! WHAT WAS TAKEN FROM ME?!" He sent a continuous and powerful force wave towards Mongul.

The force energy atomized and pulverized everything in its wake, turning stone, debris, and whatever was caught in the attack into nothing. However, Mongul braced himself; the wave made him move back, and his feet were cemented into the ground, which broke under him when he was dragged back. His arms were in front of him for protection, and his yellow skin that made contact with the force energy peeled away and disintegrated. He yelled in pain but still held his ground.

Vader stopped the force wave and fell to his knees, his vocoder sending out wails of anguish and his cries. Mongul did the same, though in pain and realizing what was done to large parts of his skin as steam went off from him.

Even if Vader kills Mongul, it won't be enough, it will never be enough. He can kill every single living thing in the universe, and it won't be enough to get them back or to get her back. He did that already; he killed many, betrayed friends, and destroyed an entire galaxy because he wanted to protect her. And it was never enough.

It was all for nothing; he terribly realized that he was nothing and that he would die for nothing. He wanted to kill the man who ruined his life, and he thought ridding himself of Obi-Wan would satisfy that vengeful desire. That was a lie. Obi-Wan wasn't the one who ruined his life; he did this to himself. He killed all of his loved ones because he was weak.

The man who ruined Anakin Skywalker's life was Vader. And he will take Vader's life.

He got up and commanded the force to bring down the castle he was in. The columns broke and crashed onto the floor, the walls cracked and collapsed, and the top ceiling began to give in. He heard Mongul get up and run to Vader to stop him, but he was too late. The ceiling finally fell, coming straight down to the two. Vader closed his eyes and hoped that the eternal sleep that would come soon was just as comforting as his mother's embrace on Tatooine, the warm smile from Obi-Wan's face, and the kiss from his beloved Padme.

***​

He woke up and realized it was not in the way he expected. He saw the red simulacrum of his suit's helmet. He felt the same painful breathing he could never control. He was still under the suit's uncomfortable and claustrophobic grip.

He was still alive. He had failed himself again. The dark side won't kill him; it won't let himself take his own life. It will never let him go, no matter what galaxy or form of reality he is in. He was stuck in it forever. He will always be its servant; he can never escape it, no matter how hard he tries.

Trapped in the rubble of the former castle of Mongul, he made a force wave upward, and the debris exploded in dust. In the crater he made, the sun blasted its rays at him. Slowly and reluctantly, he got up and proceeded to climb up the massive heap. When he got to the top, he saw all of the damage he'd done. The massive castle he used to be in, that dominated above the arena and Mongul's city was gone, reduced to ash, dust, and rubble.

A mound of debris was sent all around, revealing Mongul, though badly wounded, with face bruises and parts of his skin gone to show muscle fiber, was still alive. His face was hot-blooded as he stared at Vader like an angry Bantha. He threw a large fragment of what used to be a column and sent it towards the Dark Lord. Vader grabbed it by force and sent it back, Mongul braced himself, and the leftover column broke from his might.

Mongul charged at Vader, making the ground shake around him. The Sith conjured a force wall between himself and the charging yellow brute. Mongul crashed onto the ground after bouncing off the invisible wall. He went up to go at Vader again, and the same thing happened twice. Gritting his teeth and getting back up, he began pounding on the protective force shield. The force wall was buckling with each blow, and the surrounding rubble was sent back by the shockwaves of each blow. Vader pressed on, however, continuing to pour more force energy into it. Catching the Sith Lord off guard, Mongul raised both arms and brought them down onto the shield with all of his brute strength.

The rubble was pushed back and flown from the impact as well as Vader. He landed on what used to be a decorative wall. On the ground now, Vader was picked up by Mongul by his right arm, and Mongul squashed his cybernetic arm. Vader let out a moan of pain as he was dropped to the ground. Mongul grabbed the Sith by the cape and threw him onto another wall; it spiderwebbed and cracked when Vader landed on it.

Stunned and his electronic breathing becoming wheezing, he was on his knees on the rubble when Mongul went up to him. "For a second, I thought you were going to kill me…" he mocked the downed Dark Lord of the Sith, "but you're just another pathetic worm like Draaga." He lifted both arms to crush Vader. "Time to die, pest."

Vader, having one final counteroffensive planned, went into himself and then went into Mongul through the force. He searched through his powerfully built chest cavity and found a large artery that went from his pounding heart to his brain. At the middle point, Vader poured all of his fears, his anger, his hatred, and his pain from all parts of his dark being onto this middle point. It felt like trying to hold back a large river, making him put more power into this imaginary dam. But the blood flow that had the strength of a rushing river was held back by the forces of the dark side. The blood flow ceased and caused a disturbance in Mongul's body.

Mongul was just about to bring his might to bear onto Vader but paused, his eyes widening, He dropped his arms in an exhausted manner and started to walk back, disorganized and with no sense of balance. His left side of his face started to relax and droop lazily, as if melting. The alien warlord tried to find balance but couldn't; he attempted to stabilize himself on a piece of rubble but fell clumsily onto the damaged ground.

Vader, getting back up, was still concentrating on keeping his death grip on the artery. Moving to Mongul, with his fist clenched, as if he were choking on the vein itself, he tore on the Warlord and had his back on the ground.

Mongul tried to reach for the Sith Lord, to find anything to disturb his concentration, or to do anything, but it was useless. His body is now weak and extremely exhausted; he can barely move his arm in Sith's direction. Mongul tried opening his mouth for oxygen in order to provide some relief.

Vader saw this. He knew it would be difficult to choke the yellow brute, his hold on the artery included. So whatever ounce of reserve willpower he had that wasn't stopping Mongul's blood, he commanded the force to make the air around the brute ruler vanish. A second after doing the act, Mongul's eyes widened, though labored, as he realized that there was no air. His mouth opened like a fish out of water, trying to find fresh air but finding nothing.

Then he exhaustedly turned his slack face to Vader and showed fear. Yes, fear of the Sith above him. In the relationship between Mongul and Vader that will be very short-lived in a moment, the yellow ruler only humiliated, mocked, and shamed the Sith. In his arrogance created by a powerful body, he must've thought he was invincible, unchallenged. Now, though, Vader can smell the fear irritating the man. This will be the first and last time the warlord has even been mortally wounded.

He is humbled now and will be that forever. "I told you, Mongul." Vader said it with no sympathy. "That I will give you a painful death."

"Pl-pl-…" Mongul managed to puff out before he would be cast into unconsciousness. "Plea-please…"

Darth Vader did not give any quarter to Mongul, the ruler. Just when the ruler's eyes were about to shut. Vader activated his lightsaber. "Those who beg for mercy don't deserve it." He thrust down his lightsaber at the neck of Mongul.

It took time to melt through the skin, neck muscle, and bone—several minutes, in fact. He pressed down the lightsaber with both hands, even the one that was damaged, as he needed all of his strength. He pressed down with all of his mechanical might. All of this time Mongul was helpless, and at some point during the slow, possibly painful beheading, he died. Vader sliced one way to the left slowly, then to the right. After some time, Mongul's head finally went off the heavily burned stump.

When finished, he deactivated his lightsaber and held Mongul's lifeless head in his good arm. He held it up to see his red eyes. His face was stuck in motion with an expression of terror. He held his gaze for a while. He wanted to feel that he had achieved a victory on his own. He wanted to feel accomplished. But he can't; he can't feel a thing.

In the moment he entered his new realm, the only purpose, a goal, he made for himself was to take vengeance on Mongul. The Sith thought that his own misfortune of being transported from his galaxy to this new one was somehow Mongul's fault. He wanted to believe the warlord had something to do with the hyperspace accident. He wanted someone to hate.

But now he realizes that was hollow.

He didn't feel defeated because he was humiliated. He didn't feel a sense of victory because he was thrown around by two brute aliens. He didn't feel better because his killings weren't contributing to his eternal pursuit of peace and order, even though that quest doesn't matter here.

He felt defeated because the light of Anakin Skywalker broke through his shadow. The light from that dead star broke through Vader's cold, heartless universe, which he worked so hard to build. The dream, if he can even call it that, that creature made shouldn't be able to coax and whip Vader into a frenzy. Yet it felt so real; it felt as though that was his life, Instead of betraying the Jedi and helping the Emperor create the Empire, he would have been just a son, a brother, a father, and a man. No suit, no Sith, no Empire, or no Sidious Just himself.

He shook those unwanted thoughts out of his head but found it difficult to. The idea of 'what could have been' clung to him like the very parasite that gave him that very concept. Anakin Skywalker's past had no meaning to him, yet his past made Vader go down the path of revenge just earlier and made him not act as his usual self.

In the Sith Lord's dark universe that he created himself, he stood on a celestial body alone. He looked up at the cold, unforgiving night sky that only showed the truth of existence. But in that truth, he saw a spec of light, insignificant and small yet still there. Being defiant against the dark. In that moment, he was one of those beings that gazed into their night skies in search of stars. Any search for light.

He asked himself an inconceivable question: is Anakin Skywalker alive? Does that very star that he was gazing at in that instant still exist? That it isn't just a memory of the light from a dead star, but right now it is alive, emitting light that was traversing the cold universe so that it may reach him?

He stood still when he felt the warm light of that star, Anakin Skywalker, hit him. One shade of that light was that Tatooine boy; the other was the young Jedi learner; and the last was the Jedi Knight. All of them asked Vader to come with them, saying that it didn't need to be this way. Things can go back to how they were before all of the pain and suffering happened.

Vader tiredly said 'no' to them. There is never going back. There is no 'back' to go to. He will always be this; he will always be Vader. Nothing can change it. He has to be Vader, or else there will be nothing else, right?

Vader went back into himself; he covered the three shades of light that were in the form of Anakin Skywalker and returned to his shadow. They didn't scream or struggle this time. They accepted their place, but not their fates. Vader knew this; he can never get rid of them, no matter how hard he tries.

Alone now, possibly forever, he only stood amongst the rubble, with Mongul's worthless head in his hand. He accomplished his first goal by coming to this new realm. But now he has no new one after that.

He had no purpose.

He stood motionless, trapped in his head. He didn't know how long, perhaps hours. He felt the presence of several sentients coming behind him, though he didn't turn around. He felt that they were Larfleeeze, the ex-slaves, and the dungeon dwellers, trying to navigate the rubble to reach Vader. Perhaps they had a successful slave revolt after Vader defied Mongul, or maybe their cells were destroyed during Vader's fight with Mongul; perhaps Mongul's men left their cells unguarded after Vader slaughtered them. It doesn't matter. He didn't care.

When they got closer, they spotted the headless body of Mongul and saw that Vader had his head. One conclusion led to another. They gasped and murmured between each other. Larfleeze went out from the hapless crowd to Vader with shock, "You…killed Mongul, my Lord." He looked down at Mongul's head, "You're… You're the ruler of Warworld. The crown is yours!"

Though Vader wasn't surely listening too much, he got out of his trance-like state when the dog reminded Sith of his position now. He gazed down at the head, the silver skull-cap-like crown that wrapped itself behind Mongul's hairless cranium was still on, though heavily damaged. He took the crown off the head and dropped the worthless, decapitated head. With his one good arm, he studied the crown.

"Could I?…" he thought to himself, "Could I…maybe…"

Vader didn't finish his thought when he heard a loud and feminine voice yell out, "THERE HE IS!"

The crowd looked behind at Vader, where the voice was made, as well as at the Dark Lord. On a pile of rubble, looking thrilled beyond belief, was a somewhat young human female, or at least he thinks she could be human. She had long crimson hair, a flexible black bodysuit that was in the mixed style of combat armor and regal attire, golden pauldrons that ran parallel with her shoulders, a short stack of golden neck rings, a white cape, and a black tiara that hugged the outer edges of her face from her hair.

Vader sensed the red-haired woman had telepathic power, but not in the form of force energy, and rightly concluded that the woman who was joyfully looking at him was the same woman who tried to mind probe him. Sliding downward through the rubble, the red-haired woman impatiently went to Vader while another woman followed suit. Struggling to keep her green dress from getting cut up and dirtied, the other woman was also human-looking, slightly older, in an elegant emerald dress with an elaborate headpiece in the same color, in addition to her whiter skin color with makeup.

The Sith hid his damaged hand under his black cloak when the excited woman got closer to him to study the Dark Lord while the aliens behind him began to murmur something that involved 'Maxima'.

The woman, possibly Maxima, got close to Vader so that she could get a good look at him. She said his name almost unbelievably, "Darth Vader..." She looked up and down at him, then sent an excited and joyful, "Yow!" Vader doesn't know what she meant by that burst of emotion, nor did he care. She was going to say something but stopped when she actually noticed Vader had Mongul's crown, which led her head down further to see Mongul's head along with his decapitated body next to Vader. Somehow, this excited her further. She brought her gloved white hands up in sincere joy and said, "Oh Vader! You are the one!"

Vader narrowed his eyes under his helmet, "And you are?…"

Maxima flung red hair around to show it, cocked her hip exaggeratedly, as if that would make her more attractive to Vader, and gestured to herself for her introduction: "I am the Lady Maxima: Warrior Queen, Head of the Royal House, leader of all Almerac!"

Vader asked a question in an uncaring and unemotional way, "And that is supposed to mean anything to me?

She changed her posture and stepped closer to him, almost seductively, though this did not affect the Dark Lord. "It will be…when you prove yourself worthy to be my mate…" she said, going closer to cup her hand onto his black Sith mask and looking determined. "My love…"

"Love?" Vader said the word in his head, sounding disgusted and repulsed by it. His eye twitched, though it was not seen outside of his mask. Love was an emotion that some Sith of the past enjoyed, romantically or carnally. For it was a passion, which in itself was part of the Sith code. But to Vader, it was useless because love was for fools and weaklings. Love can chain the powerful to other beings and hold back their true strength. Love can make others predictable and can become a liability. Love is a lie. But this wasn't entirely the case for Vader.

Perhaps many years ago, he had some form of emotion toward someone else, a woman specifically. But he dared not to think about her name or entire existence, for that love was too much of a lie, manipulated and destroyed by Obi-Wan. That young, bashful Vader learned through his mistakes and was humbled. Love has no relevance to him or to his power.

This woman will surely be disappointed and will die for her own foolish hallucinations.

"Love has no meaning to me, woman." He responded as coldly as the void between worlds. "And you are nothing to me."

Her smile shifted down as if she had just heard one of her most cherished family members had died. "Wha….what?" She said it quietly, disbelief leaking from her words.

"I said." Vader slightly went closer, saying, "You are nothing to me, and now you will be nothing altogether." He dropped the crown, cocked his arm to the side, and smacked the supposed queen with enough strength to send her across the rubble.

She disappeared in a cloud of flying debris and dust. The lady that followed her screamed out, "MY LADY!" And she ran the fastest she could to her queen, in spite of the dress she wore. The crowd of aliens gasped at the Dark Lord and gawked at him. Vader grabbed the crown, turned his back around from the cloud of dust, and walked away.

The crowd was still gawking, but they were gazing beyond him and getting surprised. "Umm…" Larfleeze said, "Lord Vader."

Before Vader could ask the dog what pointless thing he's going to say, Sith was lifted off his feet, and he yelled in surprise. He looked down and was shocked to see Maxima, still alive, not bruised at all, she didn't look too pleased with Vader's response. "NO ONE SAYS NO TO ME!" She yelled at Vader and threw him across the rubble like a ragdoll, where he landed on a fallen column.

Vader quickly got back up. As surprising as it was to see beings like Draaga or Mongul survive his attacks, it was more surprising to see a human-like being survive a hit like that, despite most sentients would have been mangled beyond recognition.

He activated his lightsaber with his one good artificial hand. The enraged Maxima saw this and grabbed the nearest rebar from the cracked debris, did something truly incredible. Once she grabbed it, the metal bar was encased by a bright light of energy, took a silhouette of a sword, the light disappeared, and then she revealed an actual sword. It showed no hint of actually being made out of the material, instead, it looked like it was crafted by a talented blacksmith with its black handle, golden hand guard, and shimmering heavy blade.

Vader didn't know if this was another type of teleporter technology or some sort of advanced forge technology, but that didn't matter right now, what mattered was her death by his hands. The alien crowd saw what was about to occur and scurried away. They hid behind the chaotic rubble while peeling their heads out to see the brawl. Maxima's follower did the same.

Vader let Maxima have the first action, and she took it by announcing it with a war cry and charging at him. She brought her broadsword over her head to cut the Sith in half. When she got close to bringing down the blade at his head, Vader simply slashed the sword, cutting it down by the handguard. The blade clattered harmlessly on the ground, and Maxima looked down at the sizzling, smoking hilt of what used to be her weapon.

She awkwardly laughed and looked at Vader with a sudden realization: "Eh, mayb I-." Before she could finish, Vader sent her straight back with a telekinetic wave. She flew in the air and crashed into a jagged piece of stone, which was used by two aliens as cover. Her impact destroyed the rubble, and she collapsed onto the aliens before they could escape the trajectory she was put into.

Expression snarling and strands of red hair on the front of her face, she threw away the hilt in annoyance and picked up one of the aliens that were twice her size, then proceeded to throw him at Vader. The Dark Lord cut down the alien in half when he got close; the two pieces of the body landed on either side of him, bringing the smell of burnt flesh into the air.

"You are an annoying woman." Vader stated as he stared at the fuming Queen of Almerac.

"And you're dead!" Vader felt psychic energy build up in her, and when she extended her right hand in his direction, she sent a beam of yellow energy out of her palm that headed towards the Sith.

Vader was surprised, but not stunned to the point of not doing anything, nor did it surprise his precognition, so he held his lightsaber in front of him and deflected the beam to the side. The beam hit a piece of rubble, which vanished in a cloud of heat and smaller chunks of debris. The deflection caused the Maxima woman to stop her beam for a moment, and then she groaned in anger. She then fired multiple shorter bursts of yellow energy from both hands at the Dark Lord.

Vader deflected every single one of them. He twirled his lightsaber around, making a wall of red energy against the energy barrages. Bolts of psychic energy went to the ground, in the air, hitting and causing rubble to smaller pieces of rubble, or hitting an unfortunate alien trying to look at the brawl.

Having had enough of her temper tantrum, Vader sent a psychic bolt straight to her. She couldn't react and was blasted back by her own energy beam. She crashed onto the ground, and Vader made his move. He force-dashed at the arrogant Queen, becoming a wraith intending to bisect the woman. Maxima was just fast enough to see this and roll around when his blade was going to cut her down. She used her legs to knock Vader off his feet.

He fell hard to the ground on his back. A warning from the force told him that the now up Maxima got a boulder and was going to crush him with it. He reeled his leg back and sent a kick into her stomach. Her body folded inward from the hit, and the boulder dropped to the side. The wrench landed on a rubble pile while Vader got back up.

The mad woman recovered from the attack, using her hands to clean herself off, and then stomped her way towards Vader. He attempted to blast her away with the force, but she was quick enough to summon a telekinetic shield around her. He poured more force energy into it, turning it into a grip, and the shield broke. She grunted and somewhat collapsed onto the ground, When she got back up, she put both hands on her throat.

Vader had his forefinger and thumb close to each other and noticed that, though it would have killed any other being, she was still alive. She held her throat irritatedly. He put more energy into the invisible choke, and she was denied air.

She clenched her throat desperately as if that would do anything. Her face in pain and making choking sounds, she attempted to break the hold with her own telepathic energy, but the dark side had her in its grip, and no amount of psychic power could stop her from meeting her fate.

The handmaiden urgently went to Vader, grasped his damaged arm, and pleaded, "Please, Lord Vader! She's lost; you won! You can stop it now! PLEASE!" Vader had none of it and smacked Maxima's servant to the side, though she was notedly alive.

Her life at his hand, her face now turning purple, her white hands still at her throat, she looked at Vader with eyes of sudden fear as she was close to being choked to death. She almost looked like she was pleading with him for mercy, but she couldn't because the words were stuck in her throat. Vader was prepared to take her life and humble her about what it means to cross paths with a Sith when he looked into her eyes.

Her eyes…the hands on her throat…the way she pleaded with him…it made an image pop into his head of Padme in the same manner.

He recoiled, stopped his hold on her throat, and she fell to the ground, now wheezing much needed air. She rubbed her tender throat as her handmaiden tried to comfort her. Vader only turned around and looked down on the ground.

He reprimanded himself for letting another fragment of the dead Jedi's life break his Sith resolve and make him weak. But then he investigated the memory closely and deciphered that it wasn't completely owned by the Jedi. It was the young Vader and the Jedi's combined memory. A crossroads between the Sith and Jedi paths. The line between dark and light was blurry in that foggy memory, where shadow and day struggled for control.

He remembered that Anakin was present at that time, with his wife, explaining that they could rule the galaxy together with their child. Or was it children? He can't remember now. Then he remembered Padme pleading with Anakin to run away, saying that they could raise their child with no strings attached and no galaxy to rule. Just them. Them and their love for each other.

Love…

That word did really mean something to Vader, after all. He did all of the things he did in the name of love—the love of the galaxy, the love of his friends, the love of his wife.

He destroyed the Jedi and the Republic so that the galaxy he loved would finally know peace and order. Despite his hatred for Obi-Wan, he loved the man so much that he told them they didn't need to fight and that Vader didn't need to kill him. He loved Padme so much that he did all of that for her, for her safety, to protect her.

He stood silently, staring at the ground below him. He felt Maxima get up and walk to his side. She joyfully proclaimed, "You are…my equal! No!…more than that…my destined lover." She clinged onto him.

Vader didn't smack her away or make an attempt to kill her. He had no annoyance or anger in his voice. He defeatedly responded while still looking down, "Leave me alone…"

"I can't," she said, taking her arms off of him for a moment, "You don't know how long I've been waiting for someone like you to come before me. For too long I've been trying to find worthy men to be my mate and king beside my throne. None were worthy," she calmly tapped his padded chest, "But you…you're more than that."

Vader scoffed at her words, though he didn't show emotion at them: "You are mistaken as you are foolish, woman; I could do no such thing."

"Why not? She asked curiously, "Think about it," she clinged to him once more with additional passion. "With our powers, our skills…our love. We can rule this galaxy together! My empire…your empire."

His empire? "My empire…" Those two words were spoken by the young Vader when he told Obi-Wan his destiny and his right to rule the galaxy. But that right was taken from him by Obi-Wan and Sidious. Vader wanted the Galactic Empire; he wanted to lead sentient life to glory but couldn't, for Sidious made sure that he was the only Sith to have total control of the galaxy. Even when Vader quite possibly had the resources and the force power to overthrow Sidious, the Sith Master had the raw strength to put Vader in his place.

Vader thought he could get another force user to help him kill Sidious, Galen Marek and his clone were one of them. But Vader made the mistake of choosing the boy, though powerful as he was, he wasn't strong enough to gain the attention of the dark side, and so he betrayed Vader. After those near-fatal attempts, he gave up on controlling the Empire and becoming the Master of the Sith Order.

But now, in this new realm, this new galaxy or universe, he is in, there was no Sith, at least what he knew of. There was no Sidious, and there were no other Sith or Inquisitors to contest him. There was no Jedi to worry about trying to stop him from taking over this galaxy. It was even possible that he was the only one who knew about the force. It hit him like a fist to his stomach when the realization got to him. He might have a total monopoly over the force itself. His teachings, studies, techniques, skills, and knowledge of the force and mastery in the Sith arts are his now.

No Sidious to say otherwise. Darth Vader is now the only master in the Order of the Sith Lords. He was the ruler of the Sith. And because of that knowledge, it gave him power he never felt for a long time. He felt free now to do as he pleased.

NOTE [Play Plagueis Music from ROTS]​

He felt the shadowy presence of the dark side come to his ear and whisper in, "The Sith is yours, Vader, and for that, the dark side. Use your powers to recreate what was wrongly taken from you, get back what was your birthright, and become this realm's ruler…their savior."

In that blank of the second, he had realized what had transpired. The dark side had crowned him as its lone champion, to bring forth its terrible power to its and his enemies. With the dark side behind him, he will finally have his dream of an empire, a galaxy that will know peace, freedom, justice, and security that will be created through his new galactic order. A new order will be created and designed by Sith's hands. By his hands. All the Sith that will come after him will have to acknowledge his power and pledge allegiance to him and him alone. The sentients of this galaxy will be led out of their chaotic stupor and will be thankful for it. Those who let it happen in the first place will be destroyed.

In that powerful void in himself that seems infinite, he thought of a possibility that could happen. With this strange new galaxy that he was in, with its wonder technology that his galaxy might've had but lost, he thought of a dream. It was a dream to take back his body, his arms, and his legs. For the longest time, he never replaced his suit's life support systems with better ones due to his fear of dying from the risky operation.

Now, though, with the advanced technology around him that his galaxy couldn't provide, that dream could be a reality. To be stuck in this suit and have no limbs was like being a blind painter or a deaf composer. That potential to not just have ultimate power, but to be it and to lose it was soul-crushing to him. Now, he can gain it back. To gain his right back, to paint this realm into his own imagination, to orchestrate a piece of music that will be the civilization he will create—a civilization needed for this galaxy and what sentient life deserved.

The knowledge of this full power possibly coming back to him was so great that he could almost feel it again.

There will be those who will stop him. These Guardians from Oa and their Lanterns surely will. They have allowed chaos to brew in this realm and failed the test to bring peace. Criminals, savages—the bottom feeders of life—will strike back, as well as other beings who will not take a liking to the new order he will construct.

But they will lose, for the extreme power of the dark side has no equal, and the Sith will triumph.

All of this was his. All of this power, though he will need to create his empire from the ground up, is his. All of it can be granted by just saying one simple word to one simple woman. He will need to be smart about this new role, for he is not able to romantically and physically please, not that he cares for it. But with the power of being a new Emperor in the new order, he will be granted such rights again. And with her blind love for him, he can manipulate her to do whatever or think whatever, so those rights could be taken back, and he will be whole again.

All he has to do is say one word.

He looked at the impatient and excited Maxima, who still held him. He pried his mouth open to give her the response she wanted. "Yes."

Maxima's eyes grew wider than possible, and her lips shivered. "Yes, what?"

Vader had to force himself to explain further. "Yes…I accept to be your..husband…to be…your…love."

Vader was immediately taken in by her uncanny strength for a human-looking woman and almost died of asphyxiation. Maxima's joy spread amongst the alien rabble, sending cheers and applause at the apparently newlywed couple. Maxima's handmaiden looked at her queen with absolute shock and horror.

In this moment, with that phrase Vader reluctantly uttered, an empire was born.

***​

When the Dark Side woke up from its slumber and decided to act against the currents of the force, a select group of beings from different worlds, species, and realms felt it in their own ways. From strong telepaths, practitioners of other order or chaos magic, those who were attuned to the emotional spectrum, or some beings that others might consider gods, have all felt the great disturbance. The awakening of the dark side was so intense that it spilled over to all manner of realms in that corner of the universe.

One sorcerer in a tower of fate felt an ancient dark power awaken that was so great that chaos magic was partially dipped in its favor.

An Amazonian queen on a secret island flet a horrible storm and originally thought the Gates of Hades had been reopened, but she realized that this storm would have a greater reach and consequences that the gods might not be able to contain.

A purple-haired Greek witch imprisoned in Tartarus felt a great wave of power emerge in from the depths and wondered if she could use it, while another witch from Arthurian England felt the same and scoffed at the possibility that another could be just as powerful as her, and then had the foreboding realization that it might happen.

A girl who had no real name and only knew of being studied and made into a weapon cried and panicked out to her jailers about a man made out of pure shadow coming for her in her own dreams.

One Martian protector who was the last of his race gained a horrible migraine that lasted for hours while his comrades were helpless to relieve it.

A council of ancient guardians from an ancient race felt a shockwave in the emotional spectrum. An overflow of fear, greed, and anger nearly drowned their senses, and the energy field they used to guard space was almost overtaken by a dark and twisted power they had little knowledge of.

A dark warlord overseeing his fiery domain felt this presence and only noted it as another weakling to crush, while his counterpart in his own heavenly realm felt the source wall was in peril.

And a princess, a beautiful, angelic young woman with black wings, raven hair, and skin made out of the same color as the free sky, in a beautiful world, felt a dark shiver up her naked spine while bathing in the stream she goes to so that she may be alone. She thought about it for a moment and simply shrugged it off. She has better things to do and better things to worry about, like the many and near-infinite suitors who want her but truly just want her body. She was beautiful, and it was a gift and a burden. She can only wish someone could look through her beauty and see who she really is. But she doubts that will ever happen.

Her moment of comfort will be short-lived, as she can already see her family's owned slave servant come from the woodland to probably tell her about another suitor sent by her annoying mother. Though she may not realize this, her comfort will not return to her for months. For she will be undone and tortured by the cruel men that her mother unknowingly brought. The princess does not know that the being that caused her shiver will indeed save her, but not in the way she thinks. That being will see her through her, beyond her beauty, but not in the way she likes. The being will set her free, but not in the way she wants. Her destiny was now set, forged in fear, anger, and hatred that were born from the cruelty her captors gave her. Her fate will cross paths with this dark being, and she will be set free and reborn into the Order of the Sith Lords.

All of these beings had different ways of feeling this darkness rise, but they all came to the same conclusions. They felt a sense that can only be described as a scream from the universe, as if it were in agony from giving birth to an unwanted child. A child that could be described as a black hole, destroying and warping light in his own will.

Many of these beings did not realize it, for a Dark Lord of the Sith was born into their universe. The dark side has awakened from its slumber and is now ready to reign supreme over creation. Their universe just got darker.

***​

Notes. Not gonna say who was the princess, but if you are a Lantern fan you might know and might find it strange, but I will explain it later.