Jedi Insurgency 194

Nar Shaddaa burned.

Ash and neon dust drifted through the lower skyways as Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith stood before the broken carcass of a skyscraper that had once housed millions of sentients. The upper half of the structure no longer existed. Imperial Star Destroyers in low orbit had sheared it away with methodical cruelty, peeling durasteel and transparisteel like flesh from bone. What remained were burnt out support struts, and broken floors stacked upon one another like pancakes. 

All the while, numerous other buildings were destroyed all around him as TIE fighters crashed, SD's engaged Hutt battle barges, and his hated foe owned the sky with his Millennium Falcon. 

He did not look to the sky, where the Executrix shattered one of his own in a shower of sparks. He did not turn his helm toward the faint tremor in the Force that marked Revan’s presence somewhere in the city. Vader was aware of his official objective, and his personal vendetta against the Hutts. Neither mattered.

The skyscraper and what lay below solely occupied his focus. 

His obsession. 

The Infinite Engine. A traitor wishing to become his apprentice had informed him of this technological terror. As a student of mechu-deru, he had been intrigued, yet considered this bauble to be a trap. Fully intending to slaughter Revan during this trip to Nar Shaddaa, he had ignored the claim of a Darkside relic's presence. 

How wrong he was. 

Although the sensation was faint, it was unmistakable. A potent item containing untold possibilities lurked beneath this filthy moon. And by the end of the day, it would belong to Vader! 

With a hiss of hydraulics and breath hissing with vigor, Vader stepped forward.

The ground seemed to recoil under his boots. Each footfall landed with impossible weight, as if he could not be stopped. Around him, the 501st Legion advanced in perfect formation. A million soldiers flanked him, placing their faith in him just as they always had. The Force coiled around him, forming an unstoppable aura of victory. Standing at the helm of this advance, he felt invincible, like the night he assaulted the Temple. 

Sensing life forms up ahead, these were the Ongree that had survived the initial bombardment. The traitor spoke at length regarding these cultists, and their capabilities. 

They came screaming from the shattered entrances and broken corridors, roaring the name of their master. 

“For The Revan!”

“The Revan blesses us, brothers and sisters, have no fear! We were born for this!” 

Their blasters spat in disciplined fire, their crimson bolts hammering into clone lines with brutal results. Others carried saber pikes that hissed and crackled. Emerging from many side passages, they quickly closed with the clone troopers to engage in melee. 

Revanites.

They shouted his name as a curse and a prayer.

One day, the Imperial citizens would shout the name: Vader with equal zeal! 

Vader ignited his lightsaber as the oncoming horde rushed his position. Clone troopers tossed grenades, unleashed a firestorm of bolts in return, and launched rocket launchers into the densely packed Ongree army. Thousands of the aliens perished in seconds, yet the fanatics were uncaring to their losses, and continued to chant and charge forth. 

As they closed with him, Vader advanced into the storm of blasterfire and oncoming saber pikes without slowing, raising one black-gloved hand.

The Force answered the Chosen One with the same ease with which a man might turn the handle of a faucet. Power gushed forth as he directed his will. 

Bolts froze in midair, dozens, and then hundreds. They trembled in place, like insects caught in amber. Vader clenched his fist, and the hundreds of lethal plasma beams reversed course. Instead of aiming at their shields, Vader struck at weapons. Countless guns & saber pikes were instantly struck, becoming inoperable. 

Again the cultists intended to launch a volley, and again, the Dark Lord taught them the error of their folly. Right before the attack could begin, he closed his eyes, and focused. Tapping into his rage, and understanding of machines, he infected those blasters near him, and imposed a fiery impetus within their cores. Upon clicking the trigger on their blasters to fire, the Ongree cultists were confused when nothing happened. Seconds later, everything happened. 

The air screamed as a red ring of death left the barrel of the blasters, only to be sucked back in and detonate! Shields overloaded and a gruesome scene began to unfold. Bodies were hurled backward, limbs snapped, armor collapsed inward, and the gunmen that had been pinning his forces down were no more. Vader waded through the explosions like a monarch of slaughter. Untouched, his saber carved wide, brutal arcs.

An Ongree leapt at him, saber pike whirling in a flawless display of advanced martial arts. 

Vader sensed the attack before he saw it, and moved in such a way, that he easily caught the weapon bare-handed.

Metal shrieked, and the pike crumpled as his grip closed, energy from the weapon's tip screeched uselessly against his gauntlet. He yanked the alien forward and drove his lightsaber straight through his chest. Lifting the body from the ground with the Force, he brutally slammed the corpse down onto an incoming mob, sending them to the floor. 

Another enemy came from behind.

Vader did not even regard this deadman walking as a threat, and thrust waved his hand backward. The Ongree was flung off the skyscraper into the howling, smog filled winds down below. 

His advance was merciless. A flick of the wrist, and a head was decapitated. 

One step forward. 

A stomp on the ground, and a dozen iron shivs skewered a dozen Revanites. 

Another step forward. 

Three screaming Ongree with explosives strapped to their chests ran at him. Vader cruelly smirked, recalling Revan’s ploy to detonate Eriadu's shield generator on top of him. He had been practicing. Pulling upon mechu-deru, he delayed the kill switches, and [Force Pushed] the interlopers backwards. With the snap of his fingers, the timer resumed, and upon exploding, dozens of Ongree fell dead. 

Ten steps forward. 

During this attack,  heads fell, limbs flew, and Ongree martial masters found themselves broken mid-form, crushed in the grip of telekinetic force or bisected before their shields could recharge. 

The 501st followed in his wake, mopping up what survived him.

The skyscraper’s interior descended into darkness as he pushed deeper, the glow of fires and blaster bolts fading behind him. Pulling ahead of the 501st, they grew entangled with the vast numbers of Revanites, and were busy setting up detonators so that the Infinite Engine could be airlifted via tractorbeams without any chance of harming it.

Meanwhile, this objective, nay, his obsession propelled him forward. With every level he cleared, the air grew heavier, saturated with ancient power. The Force thickened, coiling around his mind like a starving beast. 

Whispers to his very soul began to tempt him with everything he ever wanted. 

Anakin…

The name slithered through the fractures in his thoughts, heavy with promise.

I can give you back what was taken.

Pain flared through his ruined body, phantom nerves screaming where flesh no longer existed, lungs burning inside the iron cage of this prison he called a life support system. 

An image of his body whole again flashed through his mind. Of the feeling of the sun upon his skin, the breeze blowing through his hair. Of her lips upon his! 

With limbs, his power would return. He would finally have the strength to break his chains. Images of Palpatine, Revan, and Obi-Wan came into focus, each one of them burdening him with the weight of the present, past, and future. 

For the first time, Vader’s stride faltered.

Not because of some doubt, or fear, no. 

But because of his hunger. Like a man pausing in step to lick his lips at the scent of a neighbors bbq, Vader had found these promises to be more tempting than anything Palpatine had offered. 

The Infinite Engine pulsed somewhere far below, a dark star beating in time with his own heart. The Force acknowledged this faint connection, sending him visions of what could be. 

Vader resumed his advance, each step heavier than the last, driven by wrath, by destiny, by a future that whispered of conquest, love, and a galaxy marked by his fist. 

The broken levels fell away behind him, one after another, until the skyscraper became less a building and more a vertical battlefield carved hollow by slaughter. Smoke clung to the ceilings in black, roiling sheets. The floor beneath his boots was slick with blood, oil, shattered shield emitters, and the remains of countless saber pikes. His breathing was thick with exhaustion after killing his way past hundreds of thousands of cultists, yet his spirit had only grown stronger, the deeper he trod. 

The Darkside swelled again, thick and intimate, and with it came memories Vader relished. Chief among them was a fantasy, no, a prophecy of what would be, of:

Padmé.

He saw her as the angel of his dream. Standing at the veranda on Naboo, sunlight in her hair, concern softening her eyes when she looked at him. He imagined his hands-human hands-cupping her face. Children cried in the distance, making him smile as she went to retrieve them. 

For a split second, his heart fluttered, as he knew he had killed her…but somehow, he knew that they were alive. He could feel it! 

Breathing heavily, and mind going blank during this vision, he took a glancing blow to his shoulder pad before eviscerating a cultist from head to toe. 

Snarling to himself, he recalled the latest information out of Naboo. About her return. At first, he was enraged, believing it to be a trick meant to lure him out…but she was real. Her resurrection-Revan’s doing he hatefully thought-had reopened the wound and poured salt into his soul.

She lived again, yet here he was, an ugly creature fighting for a villain. The rage that followed was white-hot, and exquisite.

‘When I become whole. When my limbs are restored. When this mask is gone, and the mirror no longer reflects a monster…When I break the Emperor’s spine across my knee and cast his corpse down the steps of my throne…’ 

Only then would he go to her.

Only then would he reveal the truth.

Anakin Skywalker would return, not as a supplicant, not as a broken knight, but as a conqueror.

Padmé would be his Queen.

This was the future he saw, and it would be his! 

The Infinite Engine was close now, and the burnt corridor full of blood & limbs that he had been traversing opened up into a vast subterranean chamber. The Infinite Engine loomed ahead. It pulsed with the promises of unlimited power, wholly and truly. 

Behind Vader lay devastation.

Tens of thousands of Revanites littered the chamber. Bodies were piled against walls, crushed into the floor, severed and burned beyond recognition. Shields lay shattered. Weapons were bent, melted, snapped. The air stank of blood, ozone, and scorched flesh.

It was a charnel house, a testament to his dedication, and single minded determination. 

Vader stood alone at its center.

Then a hole was blasted into the side of the building, and a pair of Sith jumped inside, barring his path. 

One moved like a predator, twin curved crimson blades ignited with a hiss. Her posture was loose, and a mocking smile graced her lips. Confidence radiated from every line of her body.

Asajj Ventress flicked her short white hair, and stared him in the eye. 

“Well, look at you, little Annie. All grown up, all wrapped in black. I barely recognize the Jedi who cried when his mother died.” Ventress purred in mockery as she circled to his left. 

The other Sith did not smile as she stood in place. 

Sev’rance Tann wore her officer's uniform like a regal and composed commander. Her crimson saber was held low and at the ready. Her red eyes flicked past Vader, toward the empty corridors behind him.

Vader readied himself, suspecting that Revan may launch a sneak attack at any moment. 

“No clones, hm? The 501st didn’t make it. Pity. Even with orbital superiority, the Revanites were too great for the mighty Sith Lord.”

Tann's gaze returned to Vader’s mask, and she narrowed her eyes, assessing his figure. 

“Once, there was a General who would never have advanced alone. A commander who cared for his men. That man is long gone.”

She tilted her head slightly.

“What stands before us now is more machine than man. He is nothing compared to the man I have chosen to follow. Nothing compared to Revan.”

“Careful, Tann, he might start crying. Make sure not to mention Padmé, or what we're going to do to her~” Ventress's laugh was cruel and filled with schaudenfreud. 

Vader had accepted every insult thus far, as the harpies' words had slowly enhanced his rage, like the lava in a volcano bubbling in preparation for an eruption. But that had gone too far! 

“There can only be two.” Vader ominously rumbled. Taking a single step forward, his presence caused the air to shudder. 

He would not be denied his destiny.