With the heads of the snake cut off, it was relatively easy to get the situation under control. He had to explain the situation one more time, that they had all been transported to the past. And while dubious, it was clear no one was going to try a mutiny until they saw proof proving or disproving his words.
Thankfully, this had all been kept quiet from the locals, so the leadership changes could be explained away over time if needed. Vader left that matter to Marwell and his new subordinates.
"Sir, I'm not going to question the absurdity of the fact we time traveled," Marwell said carefully as he walked with the Dark Lord. "But there is one thing I am skeptical of."
"And what would that be, Captain-General?" Vader asked pointedly.
Marwell swallowed at the use of his new title. He noticed rather vividly in the past that Lord Vader only spoke like that when he might be about to kill someone if they said the wrong word. "Our importance, Sir."
Vader paused and allowed the man to speak.
"This is a dying world and this "city" a struggling colony at best," Marwell pointed out. "I'm not sure what use we will have here, and I'm not fond of the idea of being forgotten on this rock when the fighting begins."
Vader considered the man's concerns and how to placate them. Something he had gotten rather good at in the past years, in his own way. "Have you ever heard of the Maw Instillation, Captain-General?"
The man thought about the question before shaking his head. "No, Sir."
"Precisely. It was a place where the Empire created and tested many superweapons," Vader explained. "We shall have needs for such locations, places of secrecy. More so when we are not the galactic empire but a displaced military force."
Marwell hesitated before nodding in acceptance. "I understand, My Lord. But please do send us whatever you can. I've seen how fast technology can slip backward when it cannot be maintained," he requested. "I'd rather not be fighting the fish-things with knives and lead-shooters."
"That much I can assure," Vader said, looking at the man keenly. "What of the boy, Farmile? Has he appeared?"
"No sir. After he was released from the medical bay, he slipped away. It's not uncommon, Sir. New arrivals, children especially, are often distrustful of the integration process," Marwell assured. "Granted, this boy you stumbled across is one of the more slippery ones."
Vader pondered on the odds of Farmile doing something foolish and found himself unconcerned. The boy had good instincts. He might do something stupid, but he didn't believe the boy would bring danger to himself or this city.
"I must depart for now. As valuable as discovering any of you is, the Executor is still an unknown factor I must account for," Vader said with a frown.
Marwell almost shivered, hating the idea of anyone besides Lord Vader having command of that monster of a vessel. It was terrifying no matter who had it, really, but at least he was on Darth Vader's side.
With that, Vader left for his ship. He slowed his approach, careful to sense and look for anything out of place. No bombs to detect, no danger to sense.
But there was one issue.
"Why are you on my ship?" Vader asked in annoyance.
"Hello to you too, Darkhelm," Farmile greeted, sitting on a series of seats near the entrance. Silence answered him. "What? They're the Whitehelms, and you're their leader, the Darkhelm."
"That is not an answer to my question," Vader said firmly.
"Oh, right. I wasn't sure if there was going to be any more fighting within Whitehelms, so this seemed like a safe place to be. I figured you could get us out of here,"" Farmile remarked. "Hey, you mind if I go with you?"
"I would, "Vader answered simply. "Why do you wish to leave? Is this not where you have been searching for?"
Farmile rubbed the back of his neck. "Part of the...process means I have to be adopted. Have a guardian, or whatever."
Vader was silent.
"I don't want one," Farmile answered in a small voice. "I...can't trust people like that. I don't mind the idea of working or learning or anything, but..."
"You do not need to justify yourself to me, child," Vader remarked. "But the galaxy is in a precarious state. You might find that life here will be more peaceful than what is to unravel beyond this world. And there are many worse than the simple foes you would find in this city."
Farmile said nothing while looking at the floor.
Vader glanced out the ramp. It would be simple and easy to toss the boy out and let him find his own way in this world.
But this was about the third time Farmile had across his path in less than a day. He was beginning to think the Force was insisting on something.
"Very well," Vader allowed. "However, there is one matter I must see to after leaving this world."
Farmile tilted his head but said nothing as he watched the Dark Lord head to the pilot seat and begin to ready the ship for take off.
Vader kept his senses and instincts keen, just in case someone was still stupid enough to try and shoot him down with the ground-to-air defenses. Thankfully, they weren't, and Vader began the ascent to leave the planet.
"Wow," Farmile whispered from behind Vader, looking up at his first view of open space. "It's like it just turned to night, but...clearer, somehow?"
Vader allowed the child to marvel as he navigated the ship through the debris fields around the planet. Anyone else might have crashed. Once cleared, he brought the ship to a stop and began to check the scanners.
"What? Are we stuck?" Farmile asked curiously.
"I am checking for something," Vader answered. He could already sense the child was going to ask many questions, so Vader decided to preempt most of them. "There is a ship I am searching for. I believed it had been sighted here. I thought wrong, but the stormtroopers said they did detect a vessel entering near the planet briefly. They tried to signal it, but it left before they could."
"Oh," Farmile said, silent as he thought of anything else to ask. "Why are you looking for it?"
"Because it is my ship," Vader said as the scanners beeped. It was an old trace of a hyperdrive jump, but the sheer size of it left no doubt.
The Executor had been here.
Meanwhile
"So, we're being played."
Qui-Gon huffed in grim amusement. "A bit blunt, but not wrong, Anakin."
They stood outside a destroyed greenhouse. Much smaller than the others. It fits the description given by Ulli.
"So, someone has a smuggler take what she thinks is a cure for a disease spreading through the Alberries," Anakin began as they carefully walked through the burned-down wreckage. "But what she actually delivered was the disease itself?"
"Possibly, Anakin, possibly. It's just as likely that the cure is real and someone is hiding it for their own end," Qui-Gon pointed out. "Either way, I doubt think this scheme has any benevolent motives to it."
"I was hoping Ulli was right, that it was just a cure that failed and no one thought that was important to mention," Anakin mused, bending down to the ashes and poking through them with his unlit lightsaber. "But the councilor should have known that, and there would be no reason to destroy this place like this."
Qui-Gon hummed in agreement before seeing what his padawan was doing. "You know it's not wise to do that, you might get the switch stuck," he reminded gently. Anakin seemed to ignore him, which caught his attention. "What is it, Anakin?"
"Something about this feels wrong," Anakin murmured in confusion. "If there were Alberry pants here, we should see some of the branches. This kind of fire shouldn't have gotten rid of everything. But I don't see any."
Qui-Gon furrowed his brow, eyes scanning around. He not only confirmed what Anakin said, but he found something of interest. Something green. A patch of unburned plants, covered in ash and still in a container. He reached down and gently picked it up, shaking the soot off as he examined the plant.
Anakin joined him curiously, squinting. "It looks like grass?"
Qui-Gon looked out to the small patches of green outside the ruins and frowned. "It IS grass."
"This whole place was a front?" Anakin realized with a frown. "I mean, I thought it was weird that the officials here would let them try and cure a blight here when people love Alberries and this is where they grow them..."
Qui-Gon had the same suspicion before. The isolation of the greenhouse could have explained that, but this was all turning into one very strange mystery. "It'd be simpler if the blight was here instead of Albingi."
"What do you mean, Master?" Anakin asked curiously.
"If the plague was here, the most likely motive would be someone on Albingi wanting to exploit this system's taste of the berries. Albingi isn't wealthy enough for greed to be the only motivation for sabotaging their own supply. Not to mention less dangerous for all involved," Qui-Gon mused. "But if someone from Albingi is doing this-"
"The motive is the rift between the three races of Albingi," Anakin summarized with a scowl. Having found friends among creatures who were utterly NOT human, Anakin found speciesism to be a baffling concept sometimes, let alone racism. "So, what now?"
"Now, we get the Alberry shipment back to Albingi. I'm beginning to worry this entire endeavor was a ruse to distract us, get us to another world" Qui-Gon mused.
Anakin frowned. "Master, do you think it could have been the High Councilor?"
"We can't discount anyone yet," Qui-Gon mused as they left the facilities.
"What are the odds someone tries to kill us before we get back to Albingi?" Anakin asked casually.
Qui-Gon smirked. "Not as high as they could be. Obi-Wan isn't here."
Meanwhile
Plagueis was never surprised anymore if and when he ran into one of Vader's people, even unintentionally. Goals and methods may differ, but they were both Sith Lords looking at all the opportunities the crumbling republic gave them to gain influence or other gains.
That said, he was most surprised to see Arden Lyn of all people showing up on Albingi.
"You realize the Jedi will blame this crisis on the Sith Order if they discover your true identity, correct?" Arden asked casually, sitting in the very well-furbished guest room as if she owned it.
Plagueis raised an eyebrow, pausing only to double-check for any other potential visitors. "And you being here makes me question if Vader himself didn't have a hand in this."
"You know Lord Vader's policy. He will not throw the first strike and set the galaxy ablaze," Arden mused. "That said, there is an issue. One you might be aware of, but Vader wanted to make sure."
"He sent you to play messenger, to me?" Plagueis asked with interest. "He must want me to pay attention to this.
"As long as you don't try to vivisect me, we won't have issues," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Your interest in an old hag like me is almost perverse, you know that?"
Plagueis gave her a plain look at her attempted barb. "You, my dear, are a treasure. A living testament of a time nearly forgotten by the galaxy altogether. An age that predates the very existence of the Sith."
"Still not a fan of that name, Sith. Sounds like a drunk trying to say the word 'shit.' And Darth? That just sounds like a disgusting biological function of an obscure race," Lyn remarked.
"And Palawa gives me the impression of some exotic dance," Plagueis rebutted. He found it best to indulge in Lyn's side conversations. He could best her easily, but her capabilities would leave the room destroyed and him having to explain things he wouldn't want to. The limitations of playing a public persona. "So, what is Vader's interest in all of this?"
Lyn frowned. "As you know, several of the sources have gone AWOL, most having happened before uniting with the Death Squadron."
Before Vader intimidated and inspired them into staying united, it went unsaid, to Plagueis's amusement.
"He believes some have banded together to make use of what they know."
Time travelers running around, trying to manipulate things on outdated knowledge of a future that had no hope of existing. Random chance and ripples of time would undo most attempts at such things. Unless one of them had a genuine brain to make use of what they knew.
"And he wants me to look into this," Plagueis said, knowing full well he had the better resources for such a thing. After all, these ones had to be decently skilled at espionage and such to not only escape without Vader's wrath coming down upon them but to avoid Plagueis's own keen eyes.
In truth, Plagueis had tracked down several of the most foolish of these temporal opportunists, who outright tried to reveal they had time traveled. Obviously, people by and large wrote them off as deranged and Plagueis had made certain these individuals "disappeared" before they could do more than embarrass themselves. They made for some very interesting test subjects.
Plagueis frowned. "He believes they are at work here?"
Lyn sighed. "To my understanding, several of those missing were part of some secret police force? Imperial Security, something? Anyway, they would have the knowledge to pull off tactics like this."
Plagueis hummed. "That would explain a few things. This scheme does come from within the Albingi government, the three races turning on each other once more. But I have spent a good deal of time skimming over many of the players here. None of them have the aptitude to conceive of such a plan, let alone one targeting their own planet."
Lyn frowned. "And if the Jedi capture these "advisors," they might be inclined to not just dismiss the notion of time traveling."
Plagueis couldn't dismiss that, not entirely. Certain Jedi would, but Qui-Gon Jin? And the young Skywalker? No, those were an interesting pair that could gleam the impossible truth that all others would simply dismiss as madness.
Still, that was something he would take care of after this. For now, well, he couldn't resist having a conversation with this "elder" before him. "How are you taking to the new era?"
"The more things change, the more they stay the same. The Jedi Order treats the Dark Side like a malevolent entity, and they don't see that as part of the reason most of its wielders become enemies of the Jedi. They even forgot there was a time of the Je'daii, those who knew both Bogan and Ashla. This republic was an interesting novelty, I never would have expected it to flourish as it has. But it's no wonder it's falling apart. Hutts are still around, to no one's surprise," Lyn remarked, eyes lost in some deep nostalgia. "The Galaxy feels smaller sometimes."
Plagueis said nothing, listening to her intently.
"It's strange these days, how you have all mastered mapping and remapping hyperspace routes. I remember a time when people were finding and hoarding them all the time. Before the war, before everything went to hell? I remember a time when people wrote stories about far-off empires, of travelers arriving at strange worlds by a faulty hyperspace jump. And while it was just fantasy, you couldn't rule it out. Now?"
"The Galaxy is more mapped out and easier to transverse. But the mystery and frontiers are still there if one looks hard enough," Plagueis assured with a strange amount of sympathy. He could only imagine what it was like, to be thrusted from an era when the Republic barely had any worlds to its systems beyond Core, and when hyperspace lanes were still being mapped and tested, only to find yourself in a time like this where the average person takes such things for granted and as a given.
Worse yet, to have fought for a cause and failed so utterly, that the Legions of Lettow were barely remembered at all by the Jedi, the same order that bested them.
Plagueis couldn't help wondering what the Galaxy would look like if this woman and her fellow legionaries, those of the First Great Schism, had succeeded? For if they had, the second schism would have never happened and, perhaps, the Dark Lords of the Sith would never have arisen.
It was interesting to realize his Order's existence existed because of the failure of those who first broke from the Jedi to practice the Dark Side.
Lyn sighed. "Enough about ancient history. I expect you have a plan to deal with this without the Jedi growing suspicious?"
"A plan? Madam, you offend. I've already made ten amid this conversation."
Meanwhile
Farmile had apparently familiarized himself with the layout of the ship quickly. Because the instant they came out of hyperspace, the boy ran for the bathroom and promptly wretched.
Vader paid the boy little mind. He hadn't seen it often himself, but he had heard that vomiting was a common thing after one's first hyperjump- or rather, watching out the windows as they made the jump. It took others more time and experience to acclimate. Given that Farmile had never seen a spaceship before, Vader wasn't too surprised.
At least the boy had the good sense not to vomit in Vader's vicinity, or worse yet, on the controls.
Still, as they came out of the jump, Vader couldn't help but feel that the Force was mocking him in some way.
A binary star system. If he didn't already know, he'd half expect this excursion to take him back to Tatooine somehow.
"Sorry about that," Farmile said as he walked in. "So, we're in another...system, right?" he asked, furrowing a brow. "Does...does it have two suns?"
"Indeed," Vader answered. "We are in the Loro Babis System of the Esstran Sector."
A system relatively close to Korriban of all places, within the realm of worlds that once belonged to the original Sith.
"That means nothing to me," Farmile admitted in confusion. "But your ship is supposed to be here, right?"
Vader didn't answer as he headed towards the only planet of note in the system, the long-abandoned world of Athiss. He felt something peculiar here as he circled the planet. Perhaps this long hunt was finally at an end.
He came to the other side of the planet and it appeared to be nothing.
"Vader, is your ship not here or just really small?" Farmile asked, getting silence. "Vader?"
He turned and saw the Dark Lord looking out at the nothingness of space. But the boy held his tongue, for he felt something almost potent in the air.
It slides out of the shadows of the planet, gleaming in the solar light like a lightsaber erupting in the darkness.
Farmile stood there with incomprehension as he looked upon something out of a dream, or a legend. The White Helms said their "building" on the top of the mountain was really a ship. Farmile laughed it off because surely that was too large to fly, surely.
Thus, he wasn't fully able to grasp what he was looking at. A truly massive ship that was long enough that the entire White Helm city could fit on it and be considered small.
"That...That's not a ship. That's a city that flies in space," Farmile said, still stunned by what he was looking at.
Vader let the boy work through the shock himself as he began to make contact with the Death Squadron.
The Executor had been located at last.
"Finally," he said with satisfaction.