Dark Lord: Bride of Vader

Chapter 20: The Nameless World - Part 2

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

The bottom of the abyss met with the black boots of Vader and the elegant white dress-boots of Maxima. In front of them was near-impenetrable black that continued along a tunnel. The cave, like above, had the interior of an intestine that was calcified. An old stench hazed stronger in the deep hole.

Vader strided with not much worry at all, and Maxima followed behind. She was more affected by the rotting stink than the Sith. "The Imperium could at least burn some incense here. A purifier wouldn't hurt," she whispered.

No response came from Vader; he was busy trying to trail the quiet, telepathic message that brought them here, like trying to find the smallest thread and having it guide him to wherever. Carefully, he might add.

It came to where the tunnel led them into wider sections that held the entrances of several more tunnels; all of it was asymmetrical in design. "Now what?" A small question covertly passed Maxima's lips.

That small invisible thread pulsed through the second-to-last tunnel on Vader's right—it was also where the smell was most potent. The mask of Vader turned to the desired tunnel, and his body followed. Maxima did the same, though with a sigh of mental fatigue from having to deal with the raw stench.

"I hope you know that this could be a trap," Maxima warned in a hush. "What we've been sensing could just be some trap to draw us in."

Halting, Vader stopped when a memory flooded his mind and took all of his concentration like a whip crack. Only afterward did he know that it was a facet of an epoch in the light that was the Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker.

'I sense Count Dooku,' warned the Jedi Knight.

'I sense a trap,' replied the Jedi Master—the closest thing to a brother that Anakin can call.

'Next move?'

A smile crept on the bearded man's face. A small defiance against the apocalyptic fall that will happen only days later. A small reminder of the shared brotherhood both of the Jedi had. 'Spring the trap.'

The shard of light was plunged into darkness in Vader's inner universe. Maxima saw the moment of stillness that elapsed on Vader and possibly considered what was wrong, but Vader was quick to reply to her suspicion. "They are of no concern," Vader forced himself to say and continued to walk.

"Pfft, easy for you to say," Maxima scoffed.

A tremor rattled the cave for a short while. Dust shook and settled at the bottom of the ground; flakes of the cave's unnatural organic material became loose and fell downward. It was no doubt the raging battle on the surface, most likely a turbolaser volley. "Didn't you tell the fleet that we're down here?" Maxima asked with caution.

As if he looked past kilometers of dirt, rock, and mountain, Vader wasn't as concerned as his wife was. "The order to have orbital strikes will be on until there is nothing significant to target. Best to have the Imperium occupied in its fight against our forces than to find work in discovering our location."

"True..." Maxima hums in minor agreement. "But not looking forward to a cave to bury us."

"All the more to find this anomaly quickly."

The tunnel curved down at an angle, and once they were past a few turns, sounds of work and heavy steps echoed in front of them. The Dark Lord kept his lightsaber in his hand, and the Almeracian matriarch held her broad sword in a two-handed grip as they approached the noise closer. The darkness before them eased away simultaneously with the sounds becoming clearer to be heard.

In the last stretch of a curving turn, the calcified organic tunnel had several large holes that gaped out and released light. Vader was the first to see through the hole. Maxima followed. The cause of the disturbance of the eerie silence was one of labor made by Imperium drones and bulky, stubby versions of those Tripod walkers that appeared to be some kind of logistical variant. These creatures worked diligently and in clear efficiency, like worker ants of a colony that was about to vacate their hive.

The cave that they were working on was ginormous—it could at least fit an Imperial-class Star Destroyer with relative ease. And, the cruiser ship that these drones were loaded with ball-like supplies was close to one in size, as a matter of fact. Like other things in the Imperium, it was an asymmetric form of organic, metal-like substance that had more appeal of an organ ripped from an animal than a space-faring vessel.

"Busy aren't they," Maxima noted, "for what though?"

"To leave, dear wife."

Another tremor above the ground that even shook the giant cave and momentarily halted the workers explained well enough why this evacuation was necessary. "Seems like they're behind schedule then," said Maxima. When fire entered her striking blue eyes, she expressed her mind, "Let's help with the 'rearrangement.'"

A black-gloved hand stopped her from reaching fully into the hole and jumping into the cave. "No."

"Why not?!" Her question was barely contained with excitement and irradiation. "We can take them!"

"These creatures here are below our notice." The Sith left the window to traverse back deeper into the underground system.

Maxima seethed but didn't allow it to express fully open. "I'm starting to think this is all happening to get back at you for teasing you."

"Trust me, wife, I have more important matters to..." His masked gaze snapped to an entrance that connected to the tunnel on their left. Fast-paced footsteps confirmed his senses.

His arm extended and brought Maxima against the wall; both of their backs against the bone-like carapace. Maxima did not object once she heard the incoming company. They came through their way in a rush, blasters charged and ready, but Vader had the Force plunge him and Maxima into obscurity within the environment.

Once the unaware enemy passed them and left the tunnel, the Dark Lord resurfaced himself and Maxima back to common sight. "My my husband..." was Maxima's amused and teasing voice. "If you want to do it here, all you have to do is ask."

What entered Darth Vader wasn't boiling anger but embarrassment when he twisted his head to realize that when he caught Maxima with his hand and guided her back with him to the wall, the gauntlet was directly over one of the two curves on Maxima's combat breastplate—perhaps, too directly.

The hand recoiled. "Now is not the time for this, Maxima!" Was what passed out of Vader's vocoder with a snarl.

"A good time like that can be whenever and wherever if you love somebody so much."

The Sith cyborg whirled around and stomped through the tunnel. "Your ardor for me can be tiresome and a burden."

"Well, excuse me!" She was close behind. "I was only joking. And I am only showing my true love for you, and you think I'm 'tiresome?' I put up all of the brooding and the moping and the cynical stuff that you do daily. And what do I get?"

Then, in a mocking fashion that masked her annoyance, Maxima made an impression on Vader's deep voice. "No Maxima, we can't go to the bedroom, I have war plans to make. Maxima, this is the final time that I'll tell you not to hug me in front of the Generals. How many times do I have to remind you not to put your lipstick on my mask, Maxima?"

His hand wrenched on hers as he halted. His annoyance with her pestering was going supercritical. "And what do you do, Wife? You do everything childishly and negligently. Never see the bigger picture, and your only concern is to satisfy me and comfort yourself."

Maxima tried to yank her arm from his grip, but his Nth-metal grip was absolute in its demand. "And yet you love me for what I am. Because, like me, I love you for the man you are and not your sulking and boorish behavior. Don't you love me for what I am, too?"

The deathgrip on her hand faltered and went slack along with the arm that was apart from it. That little spark that resided in that desolate penumbra that was Vader's universe might be there not only for the remnants of a star that was Anakin Skywalker, it also might be fueled by something else.

Was it that, in defiance of all of the fear and anger and gloom that was Vader's being, that someone—this woman—was willing to love him still? Or, was it a matter of an anomaly of unexplainable origin and future that continued to supply the little light? He could also hear that distant voice of that girl calling to him as if it were stuck at the bottom of a well.

He had realized that he had desired to perhaps see this possibility come to fruition in full earnest. But was it something else? Something that someone else might dare to call...Hope?

"Yes," was Vader's cryptic answer that was as esoteric to Maxima as it was to him. The short continuation of Vader following the tunnel was made by a subtle telepathic message. "What did I say about speaking to me in times such as this?"

His wife was just as surprised. "That wasn't me, darling."

Within his ebonite mask, Vader's eyes drew to a narrow but not directed at his younger wife. That detected whisper was not from Maxima—hers was blunt and straight to the point. This one was a faint sound like a gale barely felt by its gentle touch. Honing his senses, the Sith Lord searched through the telepathic echo. It was almost as if someone was saying. "Hello?"

He reached out deeper; not only was he trying to find this lost voice, but also to keep a low profile in his psychic presence. The voice became clearer, more vibrant in the minimal psychic atmosphere that the Imperium produced.

Even though the voice was faint, the Sith could feel the powerful telepathic power that the presence contained. As if locking eyes with the being, the voice noted Vader's presence. "Hello? Is someone there?" The Dark Lord did not respond, but the voice continued. It had a feminine quality to it, lost and confused. "I can sense something, but not too sure who it is...what it is...it feels...cold. Horrible"

Being telepathically inclined, Maxima put her thoughts toward the voice. "Hey! That's my hubby you're speaking to! You're lucky that you're not standing next to us, or I'll be—"

She received a static, black glare. "What?" she replied, her tone aloof like a child.

"Was that someone else?" The voice requested.

Maxima went to her title in the proud verve she usually is in. "I am Lady Maxima: Queen of the Royal House of Almerac, Empress of the Galactic Empire, and eternally betrothed to my soulmate—Darth Vader."

"Almanac?" The voice repeated in lost memory, "I've heard that from somewhere..."

"It's Almerac!" The answer from Maxima's projected speech was clear and frustrating due to the trivial mistake. "AL–MER–AC!"

The voice notably recoiled, "sorry, just never been good at astrography back in Mars. My name is M'gann, M'gann M'orzz."

"Mars?" Was Maxima's response, and silently, Vader's too. This would be the first time Darth Vader would be encountering these Martians, as they were reported to be extinct for centuries.

They, or perhaps she, did not disappoint as it was proclaimed that their telepathic powers were fantastic. Not to mention, they held other strange natural abilities such as shift changing and intangibility, which reminded Vader of the Force-phase ability that Council member, Jedi Master An'ya Kuro was known to use. This obscure power, however, in all of its utility and strength, didn't prevent Vader from killing the 'Dark Woman' on Cophrigin V, and clearly it didn't stop the extinction of the Martians.

Presently, with a Martian presumably under the custody of the Imperium, the Dark Emperor found this development interesting as it was suspicious. His young wife might've been correct in the prediction that this sensation has been nothing but a lure to sucker Vader into a trap. But Sith Lord's instincts had never failed him to the point of oblivion; even if it were a trap, the prospect of obtaining a Martian under his command would bring many benefits.

To get to that probability, he needed to carefully glide forward.

"Ask her for her location. Quietly," Darth Vader issued to Maxima.

She glanced at her husband, then put her attention to her thoughts. A sigh could be felt internally from her being. "Alright, M'gann, where are you exactly?"

"Oh well, I'm not too sure. Underground? cave?"

"Oh, how helpful..." Maxima's projected sarcasm.

"Oh, wait! I think in some kind of pod? Like some hibernation capsule...but sticky...and we—"

"We get it!" Maxima's inaudible voice snapped, dangerously having the intensity of a telepathic shout. "We will get there, just shut up."

No response was made except for what could be felt as a small apologetic whimper from this M'gann. The faint string of psychic resonance was followed by the Dark Lord and the Warrior Queen. "Gah!" the redhead burst with an aggravated grudge. "When do people learn and get the idea to stop talking?!"

"Yes, one may wonder..."

"Exactly! It feels like everyone I talk to doesn't have a zipper to close their mouths." Vexed thoughts melted to a crisp fondness. "But with your words, I can never want to shut them up."

Vader was silent, and perhaps for what is at stake, all the better. Their tracking investigation led them deeper into the tunnels. Of the times they encountered a roaming Imperium drone patrol, masking their own presence so that they blended with the unnatural cave were successful in avoiding being found out.

The result of their covert infiltration, if it can be called that for what it is, brought them to a large cavern, empty of anything except for one ship. A bio-ship, as Vader realized.

It had a sleek shape to it that resembled a marriage between a manta-ray-like creature and an arrowhead. The ship had two dagger-like wings that pointed to its front. At one time, the ship might've been a crimson color, but seeing how it was slumped to the ground with no landing gear and its hull a dull pink, it was no doubt dead for a long time.

"We are close," Vader stated and walked past the dead ship with Maxima towing behind. He led to another tunnel, though this one was much shorter and its antechamber was like so. Its content: one lone egg-like pod with Imperium bio-growth around its mucky translucent skin. Clearly, a humanoid was inside, and what had to be the Martian.

Taking a closer look, Maxima studied the weird prison with adopted eyes of revulsion. She made a step back to Vader. "Can't exactly say how we'll get her out unless you got a sca—"

The ignition of a lightsaber, followed by a red flare, cuts her words off. Like an open cyst, the membrane of the veiny cocoon opened. Viscous fluids of an acrid smell and putrid color gushed out, pooling at the base of the cocoon.

The unmoving body of a pale-skinned Martian is drained out with the amniotic ichor. The alien was of female stature and bipedal. But that was it for any humanoid comparisons. It had a long head that reminded Vader of a Cerean, though crooked upward. It had a hairless body and was shiny due to the coat of entrapping mucus.

"Well, guess that's one way to do it," said Maxima.