#( . vaderkin: chinhands

[skysaunter]

             𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝙰 𝚂𝚄𝙱𝚃𝙻𝙴 𝙳𝙸𝙿 𝙾𝙵 𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙲𝙷𝙸𝙽 , vader acknowledged his men standing vigil at the doors without words or grand gestures, well aware they had no time to spare as the situation downstairs had quickly turned to move against them.  together, they marched through durasteel-plated corridors encrusted with frost, the thunderous cadence of their boots echoing in spades as they delved deeper into the ancient rakata-made construct, now repurposed as a makeshift military encampment.

❝you’re going to have to give me a clearer picture of what went down,❞ rex declared after they cleared another flight of stairs.  ❝knox was all over the place before you grabbed his comlink.❞ never mind the fact the kid broke basic military protocol by frantically contacting rex on a private channel, as though they were lounging off duty and not currently serving alongside the emperor on his crusade to root out all slavers in the out-rim territories.

❝if i knew he’d tackle me to get it back, i’d have let him keep the damn thing.❞ jesse shook his head, scowling as he rolled his shoulders a few times, a troubled look settling on his face.  ❝not sure what went down.  he was fine when i left him with alniyat to grab us some kaf.  when i got back, he was in the corner, back against the wall, rifle up.  looked like he’d seen a ghost.❞

the kaminoans had meticulously altered fett’s DNA to ensure behavioral genes underscored essential qualities: loyalty, aggression, independence, and discipline primarily dominated all clones.  however, despite the kaminoans’ attempt to eradicate detrimental attributes, including susceptibility to combat-induced afflictions, the clones remained vulnerable to the ravages of post-traumatic stress.  observing symptoms among even the most well-adjusted, battle-hardened soldiers was not uncommon, and since the conclusion of the war, the prevalence of mental health crises within the ranks had only surged.

             ❝a ghost?❞ rex’s wandering gaze fixed on vader’s imposing figure, his broad back cutting a stark silhouette against the backdrop of frosted durasteel and trailing cape like an unending river of ink spilling across the floor.

knox had been one of many countless soldiers who struggled to grapple with the daunting prospect of life beyond the relentless grind of warfare.  retirement, while technically still pending as a choice, loomed over them all like an impending reckoning, threatening to strip away the purpose that had defined their very existence since birth.  rex surmised that the growing unrest amongst the 501st legion was partly why vader initiated this righteous campaign.  beyond his own conspicuous, rather personal motivations, a similar restlessness plagued vader, too.

it seemed the war’s end had come too swiftly, too abruptly, leaving everyone, including their leader, scrambling to navigate a world beyond the conflict they had known for so long.

❝makes me wonder if our brothers will ever learn to drop the tough act and seek help when they really need it.❞

jesse offered nothing more than a grunt in response, prompting rex to cast a sidelong glance at his brother.  the deepening furrow of the ARC trooper’s brow betrayed his disagreement with the exchange.  rex raised an eyebrow.

❝plenty of our brothers don’t know when to quit and ask for help, even when they’re on the edge.  guess we can thank kaminoan engineering for that.❞ there was a bitter edge to jesse’s chuckle.  ❝but i don’t buy for a second that knox was having an episode.  we know what that looks like; we’ve seen it in our brothers’ before.  when knox came at me, he didn’t have that same empty stare or far-off look.  he was right there with me, alive and fighting.  i think he was just… mixed up.  confused—❞

both jesse and rex came to an abrupt halt before vader, who peered over his shoulder at his accompanying cadre, his red-rimmed eyes burning a sickly shade of sulfur yellow.             ❝where was alniyat?❞

❝seated and restrained, sir.❞ there was a sudden tightness around jesse’s mouth before he glanced at rex, then back at vader.  ❝been meaning to mention him.  knox wouldn’t let up about alniyat acting weird, and i get it now.  the guy’s a real oddball.  been giggling non-stop since we hauled him in.  talks in riddles and laughs like he’s in on some secret joke.  when crank took knox off my hands, i noticed alniyat was red and shaking.  thought knox might’ve roughed him up, but turns out he was just… laughing his head off, silent-like.❞

             𝙷𝚄𝚃𝚃 𝙲𝚁𝙸𝙼𝙴 𝙻𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝙳𝙰𝚁𝙶𝙰 𝙹𝙸𝚁𝙰𝙼𝙼𝙰 𝙼𝙸𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙴 𝚆𝙰𝚂 𝙰 𝚂𝙽𝙸𝚅𝙴𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶 , craven worm who wilted like a sickly weed when a shadow darkened his palace on cato neimoidia. the instant vader set foot in his domain, darga’s bravado crumbled, replaced by wretched, blubbering pleas for mercy as his small army of bounty hunters fell one by one to the humming blade of a crimson ’saber. despite his youth, darga was a well-connected hutt, deeply embedded in the network of outer rim slavers. as the main supplier for the iron ring in the colonies, he had orchestrated the capture and torment of thousands. however, for all the rage festering within him, the dark lord did not carve open the hutt’s soft belly that evening. his blade stayed its fatal stroke—not from mercy, but from necessity. intel was paramount.

𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐖𝐀�� 𝐇𝐈𝐒; it could wait.

the hutt’s intel had led vader here, to belsavis, a backwater planet forgotten by all except smugglers, treasure hunters, and now, slave-rings.  haldus alniyat had never been high on the list of wanted slavers, but vader would take any lead if it meant getting one step closer to eradicating the practice once and for all.

if only this were truly the man known as haldus alniyat.

sweeping back his cape, the dark lord lowered himself into the seat across alniyat before settling his elbows on the table, his hooded gaze unreadable.

             ❝your illusions may fool my men, but i see the truth behind your façade.  deception will not save you from me.❞ full lips curled into a toothless smile devoid of warmth.  ❝if it’s a game you desire, challenge me.  you will find me more than a match for your tricks.❞

What a rude awakening to slumber begot by grand feasting. Erasing so many lives, changing the very neurons within the brains of those who remained, such a twist of the knife known as reality. Plenty appeared to be inscrutable but where a dragon could concern itself, nothing was out of reach, only a whim away from becoming textile against the conscious mind. Opening a single eye to the disturbance of an oncoming vehicle not a shred of worry crosses between the threshold of their complex thoughts. Someone was on their way and even as they draw ever close, the shroud of a wanted man does not move a muscle. Completely unperturbed by the whine produced by an engine they do wait quite patiently for the offender to settle and dismount the strange vehicles. Armor, weapons of some type, and words to be shared.

Not that the stranger seemed too particularly amused with the antics of such a carefree individual. Soldiers were all the same. Haughty, throwing the weight of their purpose against those who were less fortunate. Only half a mind to pay any real attention, the guise of Haldus leans himself forward, planting hands upon each knee and staring earnestly to at least give the idea that he cares about whatever it is they want. Unbeknownst to the great beast laying just out of view, their visage was someone that would actually garner a less than friendly response. It'd been at least a hint that the man was less than savory, found amidst the scum of this universe, but to the degree that earns a barrel directed at him was something unexpected.

And, there is the question.

What happened?

He had smiled, lips pulled uncannily too wide for that of a normal man, and the confounding notion which follows: Why, I got hungry, of course. Not the answer that had been expected the Ahamkara revels in the unfurling of a desire unbidden. These people want to know, and that alone, proves dangerous within the metaphorical opening of a maw awaiting their misfortune. Fate plays its hand in a different way and the soldier might never fully grasp just how lucky he had been.

Hands dirtied by grime and gunk raise palm outwards and not an iota of resistance becomes of the actions which follow. To be placed into a state of arrest was a new experience indeed. How exciting that, even after all these endless centuries, something could happen which had never before. These ones were still fresh to the tithe of a paracausal entity and that thought, the simple fact that there were no other Ahamkara here? Oh, how sweet a treat to feast upon. An entire galaxy of potential chaos laid within their talons now and not a force could reckon with the power that would feed them forever.

Haldus does not speak, nor does he act as if escape were a priority. Rather, the slaver remains in quite good spirits despite it all. At a contented pace the man is paraded around, keen to take in all that they had to offer. Technology varied vastly between galaxies; life evolved to its niche and what tools turned into, followed suite. Though such novelties rarely mattered to a being that could return them to their base components without half a second of effort, should the want arise.

Seated and cuffed Haldus eyes the warden of his cell with the utmost curiosity. These people had not stumbled here by sheer accident. Someone, or perhaps thing, made note of the change. That there was now a void within the landscape where once a proud cesspit of debauchery stood, was only ever bound to draw attention. At least to the off-worlders who had not been affected by the arcane, something was seriously wrong.

Fingers interlace into one another and his head cants, a grin still unwavering.

"A question asked- and, although an answer arrived, it bears no notable notion of what, where, why... and you.. yearn. I can see it. Inescapable, indecipherable, inside your head something savory sullies itself against failure. What do you tell them? That the teetering town of vicious victims vindicated by revenge no longer exists? Unlikely, they will say. Yet it is.. so."

His words speak to whoever had delivered him into the single room, an interrogation had begun, and the interrogated was not even the one being held captive.