Darth Vader: Hero of Naboo

"Sir!"

"Welcome back, Sir!"

"It's good to see you, Sir!"

Respect and relief. That was the universal response from the Stormtroopers so far. Some greeted him, but most just stood straighter or saluted him. After the incident on Carnelian IV, Vader would privately admit that this was a better change of pace. It also spoke volumes of their situation that his return was welcomed as a reassurance rather than something to cause worry.

Soon, they entered what had been a cantina, but had obviously been repurposed into a makeshift room for meetings and commanding operations.

The room had been silent, all expecting his arrival.

"...Holy kriff, it really is him," someone nearby whispered, much louder than the officer thought he was.

Vader decided to ignore that remark. And that another officer elbowed the speaker in the ribs.

The Dark Lord approached the center of the room with Retwin, and his eyes fell upon many familiar faces.

Including one Firmus Piett.

The Captain hadn't changed a great deal since Vader last saw him. His once clean-shaven face now bore a stubble, the workings of a small beard. Given how Vader saw the similar states of the other officers, he concluded that a lack of supplies for such things had been low and rightfully deemed unimportant.

It wasn't until they got close that Piett took a few steps forward to greet them. Vader noted a small but present limp. "Welcome back to the Executor, Lord Vader," Piett greeted.

"Captain Piett," Vader greeted with a nod.

"Acting-Admiral for our forces, Sir," Piett respectfully informed, as if this wasn't their first meeting in years. "I apologize for not having the situation resolved for your return."

"I can't imagine any being prepared for this situation, Admiral," Vader retorted, subtly acknowledging Piett's current leadership among this group.

"I would report, Sir, but I must ask; should we be expecting reinforcements?" Piett asked.

Vader was acutely aware of everyone's attention. "I have located and rallied several ships of the Death Squadron together. I have given them the coordinates to our present location, and the instruction to track the Executor if another hyperjump is made," Vader explained.

There was a loosening of tension among all of them, knowing they weren't alone in this time-traveling madness.

"It's good you didn't attempt to have them board immediately, Sir," Piett said with a frown. "As you can tell, Ozzeal's forces have managed to take control of the defense systems. Even ignoring that, I assume that Retwin explained the "Nutter" situation with the hyperjump system?"

"He did," Vader acknowledged. How one madman managed to remain undealt with, Vader wasn't sure but they would get to that eventually. "What is the overall situation?"

Piett took a deep breath. "A stalemate, I'm disappointed to say. We spend weeks battling over hallways, barely making progress. These days, both sides focus on holding points and scavenging for supplies. Weapons, ammo, medicine, food. Needless to say, we put a great deal of effort into preventing each other from sabotaging such limited essentials."

A war of attrition. Never a good thing, especially in a battle of equals. Both would reduce themselves to nothing. The only hope was for one to gain some advantage, some secret weapon to push back the other. If Vader hadn't found them now, he might have found nothing but an empty ship with ghosts for a crew.

"That's to say nothing of the Nutters," Piett continued darkly. "We've tried allying with some of them. So has Ozzeal. It never ends well. They're completely mad, and end up causing as much trouble to us as to the enemies."

A stalemate with unreliable variables. Wonderful.

"Would one of these madmen be in control of the turrets that fired upon me?" Vader asked meaningfully.

"No, Lord Vader. Those were fired on Ozzeal's orders," Piett answered grimly. "He no doubt knew the hail was from you."

"Then he has chosen a long road for suicide," Vader remarked harshly. "Our first priority will be securing the Hyperdrive. With that, the Death Squadron can move in and reinforcements can board."

"That's going to be tricky, My Lord," another officer said, walking up with a brief nod of respect. "The Nutter inside? He blew up and ruined several hallways leading to his location. There is only a straight path, guarded by hidden turrets and other traps. Not to mention the other Nutters."

"Show me," Vader retorted imperiously.

"Certainly," Piett said, motioning to the table, filled with various physical maps of the enormous starship. Officers began shuffling them around as they found the appropriate map.

Vader found himself taken back to the Clone Wars. More than once, a paper map had to be used in place of a holographic one. Either because such a device had broken or they similarly didn't have a digital map of the area.

That they had to resort to this for the Executor spoke greatly. Vader could only imagine how many actual meeting rooms had been ambushed or compromised before reaching this point.

But it was clear that his presence had a positive effect on morale. He could feel the tangible relief coming off them all, officers and troopers alike. True, there was a respectful amount of fear and dread. After all, this was his flagship. They knew how he often rewarded incompetent failures.

Meanwhile

The journey back to Albingi was taking longer than expected, and Anakin wasn't sure he liked it.

"You're sure nobody tampered with the ship?" he asked again, sitting on the ramp of the ship.

Artoo beeped indignantly at the apparent doubt the padawan expressed.

"Artoo, you're great, but I have a weird feeling about all this," Anakin remarked.

"Not a bad feeling?" Qui-Gon asked as he approached their ship. "The cargo ship is secure and is already heading for orbit."

"I guess we better move then," Anakin said as he stood up and headed inside.

Qui-Gon reached out and grabbed his shoulder. "It'll take Artoo a moment to get the final preparations done," he said, nodding to the droid, who beeped in understanding before rolling off to fulfill the task. "What's on your mind, Padawan?"

"Besides the obvious?" Anakin asked rhetorically, running a hand through his hair. "Master, tell me if I'm following this? Someone wanted us to come here and find out about...whatever is going on behind the scenes."

"That would appear to be true, yes," Qui-Gon agreed patiently.

Anakin took a breath. "My guess would be that they wanted to trick or trap us. But...I have a weird feeling, not a bad feeling. I don't think we're in danger."

Qui-Gon noted the distinct undertone of dread in Anakin's voice. "You've come to the same conclusion as me. They weren't trying to kill us, just get us out of the way. Away from Albingi."

Anakin crossed his arms. "And we can't leave the cargo on its own because, if things get worse back there, these Alberries might be even more important."

Qui-Gon nodded grimly. "Something nefarious is at play. And unfortunately, we have played into it," he remarked before heading into the pilot's seat.

Anakin joined him. "Sometimes we have to accept being outsmarted, I take it?" Anakin asked bitterly.

"Outplayed and outsmarted are two distinctly different things, young Padawan," Qui-Gon said with a small smile.

Anakin tried and failed to return the smile. He didn't like how amused the Dark Side was with this situation, it could only bode no shortage of ill.

But with nothing to do but wait, his mind drifted to other matters.

A matter called Luke Skywalker.

That meeting in the cave was crystallized in his mind. Not one moment of it could he forget. He wasn't sure if that was because he was meeting his son for the first time, or because it had something to do with the Force allowing him to meet a child he could have had in another timeline.

He hadn't told Qui-Gon. Not yet.

There was a lot about that conversation he was still trying to understand. His initial guess still seemed pretty sound; the big difference between this timeline and Luke's could just be how old Vader was, everything else rippling from that.

But the question remained, why did the Force want them to meet at all? The Past and Future meeting was one thing, but he had never even heard any talks among the Jedi philosophies about alternate timelines.

And why a meeting? If it was just to show Luke that he should consider allying with his own Vader, then visions would have worked just as well. There had to be a reason the Force had them actually meet like that.

Luke got a new perspective on Vader. What was Anakin supposed to get from that meeting? He didn't mind meeting his potential-future child, alternate universe or not, but he doubted that was the only reason.

Darth Sidious was dead, so he couldn't become Emperor of anything. The extermination of the Jedi? That sounded like something that had to do with Sidious and whatever the Clone Wars had been about. His own possible death, at Vader's hands? He already knew he and Vader might be enemies one day, so that was something he was already aware of.

His brow furrowed. Vader in Luke's timeline had been missing for a few years. Why, Anakin wasn't sure, but that was the one odd thing that stuck out to him. But what could that tell him about his Vader?

He didn't know. He also didn't know how he was going to explain this to Qui-Gon at all, because this felt strange even by their standards. Alternative Universes meeting, how did someone talk about something like that without sounding insane?

Then again, his master was one of the more...unorthodox Jedi. He was probably more likely to accept the story at face value without even blinking.

It didn't help Anakin feel less crazy when he imagined trying to explain meeting his son from another timeline.

Meanwhile

The plan was in place, and now everyone was merely readying themselves. Be it fitting back into their armor, recalibrating their weapons, or finishing a quick meal. Preparations would only take a short time.

Time enough for Vader to have a conversation he had been seeking for years.

"Admiral Piett," Vader addressed as the man appeared to be fixing his shoes, one leg propped up on a chair.

"A moment please, My Lord," Piett requested with a strained voice. It was enough to give the Dark Lord pause.

It was now that Vader realized the true cause of Piett's limp. The man now possessed a prosthetic foot. One he was either unused to or unable to fix properly. Piett tapped a tool to it several times, tightening a piece of it.

"Some part of this refuses to stay tightened," Piett murmured, likely more to himself than to Vader. With a grunt, he finished and stood to his feet. "Apologies for that, Lord Vader," he said, standing more easily and straighter than he had before.

Vader decided to not draw any more attention to the matter and pressed on. "What happened that day, Piett?" he asked bluntly, his voice allowing no argument.

Piett didn't need a clarification on what day he meant. "I still think about that a lot. That day is burned rather thoroughly into my mind," he mused with a head shake as he looked to the side with a distant look. "I'm sure you recall it much the same at first. We were all on the bridge. The Death Squadron was ready to make the hyperspace jump. You were standing at the front. As you often were."

Vader did indeed remember it much the same as the man before him described. It had been incredibly normal and ordinary, as far as his life had been at the time. Nothing, not even the Force itself had shown an indication that anything was amiss or about to happen.

"Then the jump came and something was...wrong," Piett said with a frown. "Everything shook, and it seemed as though the entire ship was...wobbling, turning side to side, even in hyperspace. And the colors outside, they all looked...wrong, somehow. When we came through, we thought...we hoped it was just some issue with the Executor. It was the first of its kind, after all. Perhaps something had gone wrong with the new hyperdrive unit."

The man paused, hesitating to continue for an instant.

"I thought you fell over."

Vader titled his helmet minutely at that rather blunt comment.

Firmus Piett dared to smile with a quiet laugh behind his lips as he glanced to the side. "That thought sticks with me, just how absurd it is to think. Lord Vader, falling over. But we looked up and realized you were gone. I thought you, somehow, might have fallen over the edge to the other side of the bridge. Someone else wondered the same, and thought you might kill everyone so no one would ever know."

That was a bit extreme, even for him, but not an undeserved reaction he supposed. "I found myself standing in the forests of Naboo," Vader remarked in observation. "I had no ship and no idea how I managed to arrive there."

Piett raised an eyebrow in thought. "Forgive me, My Lord, but you have been gathering the Death Squadron. I have to presume they were scattered across space and time as well? Has any other had an...experience like your own? Appearing outside of their ships?"

"If any have, I do not know of them," Vader answered. And he had looked, and so had Plagueis.

"What confusing times we live in," Piett remarked. Then he realized what he said and made a noise of amusement. "In more ways than one, it would seem."

"Indeed, Admiral," Vader agreed. "Ozzeal declared me a traitor when he heard of me killing Palpatine. Yet you remained."

"That would be correct, My Lord," Piett admitted. "It was different for everyone. But for me? It was simply a case of trusting your leadership and extremely distrusting Ozzeal's own."

Loyalty due to pragmatism. The best kind, in some ways.

A light flickered briefly overhead.

"Be honest, Sir? Do you think we can even repair the Executor if we take her back fully?" Piett asked.

"If possible, I fully intend to do so. The value of this ship cannot be overstated," Vader said firmly. "The Death Squadron will possess a technological edge for some time still, but that can be overcome. When war comes, we cannot waste the advantage we have."

Piett shook his head. "It seems this was always meant to be a bloody era of galactic history."

Meanwhile

"Vader has found his great prize."

Plagueis smiled to himself at the communication device. "Thank you for the report, my friend, and do be careful," Plagueis said as he ended the line. He stroked his chin thoughtfully.

So, Vader had finally located his desired dreadnaught. A formidable and imposing weapon, without doubt. He couldn't wait to hear just what the story was behind the vessel's long absence from Vader's command.

Still, this had ramifications. Assuming this great Executor was still intact and at least repairable, that was a massive boon to Vader. Which passively was a boon for Plagueis.

For now, at least.

Oh, he had no plan for betraying Vader, but Plagueis had learned well from Sidious's betrayal. He was prepared for if the alliance between him and Vader ended. He rather hoped it didn't though, this partnership had been many things for Plagueis. Intriguing, amusing, profitable. Not in terms of money, but in terms of knowledge. Vader certainly hadn't run out of secrets to bribe him with.

But the Executor gave Vader a significant edge in the military. Of course, they were steadily running into the issue that Vader's forces had no current way to grow in numbers. Plagueis and Vader had a few plans around that. After all, neither Sith could be called uninfluential.

Once word got out, it would put many on edge. Not just the Jedi or the Republic government. The Trade Federation, the Banking Clans, the Techno Union, the Core Worlds, the Hutts, the Black Sun, and so many more would be growing more and more uneasy. Not just with Vader's fleet, but the growing militarization around the Galaxy.

And that was what they wanted, him and Vader.

They were on borrowed time now. The war was inevitable. If these invaders came in the immediate future, maybe they could rally everyone together. But as it stood, the galaxy would definitely erupt into a civil war before then.

So, Vader intended to stop hiding that he was growing his forces. To encourage others to do the same. To make fearful people make foolish decisions, and throw the first stone, to light this great fire.

To set the Galaxy ablaze, to cleanse the overgrowth, so that they might reforge it against their coming enemies.

But there were still matters to attend to. The Jedi were fracturing, and Plagueis genuinely wasn't sure what would happen. Another violent schism, or would the Order break apart and begin to fade away in the coming generations?

Vader had been covertly rallying many individuals and worlds to his side. Plagueis liked to act like he knew all of them, but he was sure Vader had a few secrets.

Then there was the Freedom Lane group. A movement of people, Jedi included, helping slaves escape from their bondage to better lives elsewhere. Something useful to keep track of for various reasons, not least of which was that the former Master now known as Count Dooku had a hand deep in it. He wondered sometimes about recruiting Dooku as a Sith. Vader was powerful, but Plagueis was confident that Count was the more skilled saber duelist.

And there was the Protection Coalition. Born from the Anti-Federationists, they had formed an official alliance to protect one another's sovereignty from the forces of the Trade Federation and similar entities. Naboo wasn't their official leader, but it was definitely their voice. Vader had invested quite a bit into that planet, or rather, that queen. A bit young, but likely someone Vader had known in the past timeline.

As a pragmatic Sith, Plagueis had to consider trying to exploit the queen as a weakness of Vader's, if their alliance soured. But pragmatically speaking, Plagueis had no desire to incur Vader's animus. That deepest hatred that Vader had unleashed on Sidious. Something so terrible that it seemed to make even the Dark Side itself feel fear. No, Plagueis was "The Wise" for a reason, and wisdom said to keep any anger and treachery between them on a professional level.

Last and potentially least was this Albingi situation he had allowed himself to become involved with. He'd call it a whim if pressed, but it was a strange pull in the Force. A good thing too, seeing how some of Vader's rogue elements were involved.

Still, that was Lyn's half to deal with. His half was figuring out exactly what the scheme with this Alberry blight was and if he wanted to prevent or enable it.