Dark Lord: Bride of Vader

Chapter 2: Moving Things Along

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

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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."