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Instead of making the return trip to the meeting room he had left, Vader decided to return to his ship for communicators as it was far closer.
He was unsurprised to see several bodies around the ship, those killed by the Noghri. The bodies had long grown cold on the floor. Several of the assassins stood guard outside, kneeling at his arrival as he entered the large ship.
However, he paused to take in a surprising scene; Farmile was playing cards with a few of the Noghri.
"Hmm?" Farmile looked at him when his fellow players grew silent.
"Mal'ary," the Noghri bowed their heads deeply to him.
"Do these cards mean I win?" Farmile asked as he showed his hands
The Noghri glanced and started to groan in defeat with their native tongue.
In retrospect, Vader wasn't sure what would have been more surprising, the Noghri teaching Farmile or Farmile teaching the Noghri.
"As you were," Vader said dismissively as he headed to the pilot seat.
Inputting the command, a small hologram soon appeared, showing Admiral Pyrl.
"Lord Vader," she greeted. "I hear the Mouser Threat was neutralized. Not a statement I envisioned myself ever making."
"What is the status of the Executor?" Vader asked.
"It'll take weeks, months to fully map out the damages," Pyrl said with a head shake. "However, all the most crucial systems are functioning: engines, hyperdrive, the generators. The shields are questionable and many of the turrets need repairs."
Yes, it would take a great deal of time and resources to get his flagship back into shape. That wasn't the issue, truly. No, he needed to make sure no more surprises were waiting for them. And if there were, deal with them accordingly.
"There has been a development, My Lord," Pyrl informed carefully as if sensing his thoughts.
If he was still Anakin Skywalker, he would groan and wonder what it was now.
"What is it, Admiral Pyrl?" Vader addressed bluntly.
"My Lord, the team sent to investigate Ozzel's bomb has reported back with...strange news," she answered. "The good news is that it isn't a bomb at all."
"Ozzel was fooled, it seems," Vader remarked, unsurprised by that discovery. "What, if anything, does the device do?"
"That's the peculiar part, Sir," Pyrl answered, her confusion bleeding into her tone. "As far as we can tell, the device sends a signal to the ship's hyperspace systems, making the ship jump to a set of coordinates."
The hyperdrive? Vader's mind went back to that eyeless Nutter. Could this have been his doing? Most likely. With the state of things, setting something like that up would have required direct access to the Hyperdrive. The question remained, to what end?
"Where do the coordinates lead to?" Vader questioned with a scowl.
"We're still extracting them, My Lord," Pyrl confessed. "Is it possible that someone managed to get in contact with Ozzel or someone else aboard?"
Vader didn't answer, even if he found it unlikely. "There are more pressing and immediate concerns," Vader remarked, looking right at her.
Tanda Pyrl suppressed a shiver, feeling as though her Lord was radiating a physical presence through the hologram.
"The device cannot be disarmed, can it?" Vader asked knowingly.
Pyrl wasn't surprised he had deduced that somehow. "The device may not be an explosive, Lord Vader, but it is designed very much like a bomb. A wrong move while attempting to disable the device might in fact trigger it. I suggested shutting down the Hyperdrive to get around this issue, but-
"They are not confident that the Hyperdrive will reactivate once it is shut down," Vader said in understanding.
The Executor could go on without many of its systems, but without the Hyperdrive, it would be all but stranded in this remote system.
Vader crossed his arms in thought.
"Assuming this device does not send us into a star, that it is a planet?" Vader started. "Depending on the world, there may be no way of keeping the Executor a secret, and in this state no less."
Pyrl nodded grimly. "Your orders, sir?"
"Continue operations as they are for now. Keep me posted on any developments regarding this device," Vader instructed.
"Yes, My Lord," Pyrl said with a salute before the hologram vanished.
Vader let the silence grow in his ship before he spoke. "Ghazhak."
"Yes, Mal'ary?" the Noghri asked, approaching the Dark Lord and following to one knee.
"In the hyperdrive chamber, there was a man who continuously made the Executor jump between systems," Vader stated, only now looking at the assassin. "What do you know of him?"
Ghazhak scratched at his throat in thought. "We knew of him. We deemed it best to leave him where he was, as he prevented the Fool from obtaining control of the hyperdrive."
"It was more than that, Mal'ary," another Noghri said as he approached.
"Kohvrekhar? What do you speak of, Brother?" Ghazhak asked, Vader staring pointedly at the other Noghri.
Kohvrekhar seemed ashamed to continue. "There was once one of us that succumbed and became one of the Karvims, what your soldiers call Nutters."
"What?!" Ghazhak demanded as he rounded on his clan brother. "One of our own?! When?! Whom?!"
"Verhvak," Kohvrekhar answered. "He died in the explosions. He said he spoke to the Hyperdrive Karvim and...and another. He spoke of someone who was not present yet as if she were all around us. Someone he only referred to as "The Lady."
Both of the Noghri were keenly aware of the air going colder as Vader's stare pierced them. "The Lady," Vader repeated pointedly. "Those were his exact words?"
Kohvrekhar nodded. "He spoke of someone who was not present yet as if she were all around us. He said "The Lady" would not accept any to command her save the Mal'ary."
"And what became of this Verhvak?" Vader questioned.
"He died in the explosions," Kohvrekhar answered sadly. "Pulled out to space like many others."
Ghazhak looked confused. "Why was I never told?"
Kohvrekhar shook his head solemnly. "We suspected everyone of succumbing to Madness from there on, Brother. Even one another. Yet despite his madness, Verhvak never committed treason against us and the Mal'ary. None that we know of at least."
"Is it possible that this Verhvak aided the Engineer in the Hyperdrive room?" Vader questioned with interest.
Kohvrekhar nodded. "Very, Mal'ary. At the very least, he believed that Karvim was one on our side. Or, rather, on yours."
Interesting. Very interesting.
Meanwhile
Arden Lyn had to give her prey credit. They were clever.
She had pursued them well but had nearly been discovered by the Albingi herself. It took a bit of Force Manipulation to keep them from noticing her hiding among the pipes in the ceiling.
It took her a bit longer to find out how they had slipped away. Much in this area was broken, an area cut off and in disrepair from disuse. There was a path through some rusty and broken pipes if one moved them carefully enough.
Getting through was tedious if one wanted to avoid injury. And with how everything creaked and screeched, they had to have remained still to hide from their pursuers.
She stepped out into a room, one of several that had long ago been sealed off by the machinery built into and around them. It was damp in here and she could smell the mold in the air.
"You can stop hiding," she said, glancing at the only doorway. "I know you're there."
There was silence and she could feel her prey hesitating, trying to decide to attack or surrender.
They chose to attack.
Lyn was moving before the finger fully pulled the trigger.
With reflexes the agent couldn't hope to match, the Dark-Sider had sidestepped the blaster first and reached up to pull down her foe from the hiding space in the pipes above.
The female agent spat out blood while glaring up at Lyn. "You knew I was up there the whole time."
"And you seemed to know I was coming," Lyn said with a hum, kicking the blaster away. "And I don't sense your friend nearby. Did he leave you behind?"
"We're not stupid," she countered with a smirk. "We knew you would follow us. So we split up. I just had a nasty feeling I was the one you were following."
"You're a bit stronger in the Force than the average person," Lyn noted as she stood over her. "Not much, but enough to notice something like that."
The agent remained stone-faced. "What now? You going to make me die a slow, painful death in this room where no one will find my corpse?
"Tempting," Lyn said with a hum as she crouched down on one knee and looked at the cautious agent. "Why did you leave Vader?"
The agent furrowed her brow in silent confusion.
"Call it idle curiosity. You knew that would not go unpunished. So, why?" Lyn questioned.
The agent clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Is it so strange to imagine that we didn't want the future to be just for Vader to mold? That we wanted to strike out and try our own hand at manipulating this past era?"
"I see. It seems your ambitions outgrew your capabilities," Lyn said with a cold smile. "Thank you for the information."
The agent opened her mouth, before pausing in horror as she began pulling at her throat.
"Vader couldn't see to your punishment personally. It's only right that I end at least one of you as he would," Lyn said as she continued to Force Choke the female agent, whose legs started kicking instinctively. She was close to thrashing on the floor as her throat was slowly crushed. "I apologize if I'm not that good at this. I probably should just use my own hands, but I really do need the practice."
With a twist of her hand, the neck snapped and the rogue agent lay there dead.
Lyn hummed. This one had told her something unintentionally.
These agents were trying to build their own mini-empire or lay the groundwork for one. How this plot led to that, she didn't know, but that did narrow down some of the possibilities.
She glanced back the way she came. Despite her best efforts, she might not get the chance to deal with this last fool before he was caught.
A pity, her method of killing would be far more merciful than what Plagueis might do to him, or the Albingi for that matter.
Meanwhile
"Magister, forgive my curtness but tell me you have good news," the High Counsellor said to the hologram of the Muun.
"I'm afraid it is a rather mixed bag, Sir Counselor," Damask explained honestly.
The counselor took a breath, pushing aside his grief for a moment to collect himself. "I'm listening."
"I'll keep it in simple terms. As you know, this virus is artificial in that it was engineered. Normally, someone doing such work will include a failsafe, a way to eradicate the disease with ease," Plagueis said carefully, getting no response from the man. "Whoever created this blight did not want it cured."
The counselor frowned. "Who would harbor such hatred for my people?
The Muun shook his head. "I cannot answer that, Sir. That said, I am making progress in a countermeasure of my own."
"A countermeasure?" the Counselor questioned pointedly.
"High Counselor, the issue is this death wail the Blight causes in your berry plants, turning said berries into little noxious bombs. I have been experimenting with the dosage of the cure. I believe there may be a way to cure the Blight that will render this an inconvenience rather than a danger, lowering the potency of the gases."
The counselor rubbed his head as he tried to process all that. "I am relieved to hear your efforts are making headway. I must ask, you do not believe that these human conspirators will provide an answer of how to counter this?"
"In the interest of saving lives, I am assuming so, Counselor," Damask supplied.
The Albingi nodded. "Thank you, Magister, for everything."
With a nod from the Muun, the hologram communication was cut.
Plagueis smiled to himself as he turned back to his specimens.
He was more thankful for such an interesting challenge. In truth, he had three potential cures. Well, cures were not the correct term. Counter-Plague would be more fitting.
Despite being artificial, a virus is still a virus; it evolves and changes. And oftentimes, the most successful virus is NOT the most lethal one. After all, the objective of a disease was not to kill the host but to survive and spread to more victims. Thus, he was working on three strains that could potentially reinfect the Alberries and override the current plague, one that could be safely cured without the worry of the death wail.
Of course, most people would be uneasy about using one plague to combat another. And openly showing the full extent of his skill in the biological sciences might just give too much away.
But he hadn't been lying: whoever engineered this disaster didn't want it cured.
"Magister!"
The Sith Lord turned to face the bright light in the Force. "Yes, Padawan Skywalker?" he asked curiously, seeing the boy grin.
"We found the cure!"
...What?
"Are you certain?" Damask asked with a furrowed brow. A cure existing wasn't impossible, but everything he had looked into about it said that this blight shouldn't be cured by normal means.
Anakin nodded rapidly as he wordlessly gave him a data-stick. The Muun took it with great interest before inserting it into the computer.
Damask frowned, but Plagueis's interest grew.
"What is it?" Anakin asked curiously.
"This isn't a cure, young Jedi. It is a treatment plan," Plagueis answered.
"I'm not well versed in medical terms, so may I ask what is the difference?" Anakin asked uncertainty.
"An ideal cure would only require one dosage, or at least as few as possible. This is a way to stifle the plague with multiple treatments over the course of decades, with the side effect of making the surviving Alberries less plentiful," Plagueis answered. "And it is a plan designed for the entire planet."
Anakin furrowed his brow in thought. "They need those berries for their young to survive. Someone wanted use this to cripple and control the entire planet."
"And if they tried to cure it themselves, the result would have been similar with a higher death toll," Plagueis mused before looking away from the data. "Padawan, where did you get this?"
"It was on one of the human conspirators. They were dead when we found them," Anakin answered.
So, the Albingi hadn't caught one alive. Good. The last thing he needed was some of these rogue agents saying the wrong things to Qui-Gon and Skywalker. Though, he'd be interested in getting some one-on-one time with one of them.
He noticed a rather thoughtful look on the young Jedi's face and couldn't help but poke at the child's mind. "Something on your mind, young Skywalker?"
Anakin was silent for a moment as if doubting his own thoughts. "I think I know who is behind this."
Plagueis raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Well, my first thought was Darth Plagueis."
It took every ounce of self-control to not let a single ripple of his true feelings echo to the surface. "I am aware of Darth Vader and that the treacherous senator from Naboo was known as Darth Sidious. But I'm afraid I am somewhat clear on who this Darth Plagueis is," he said, choosing his words deliberately.
While the galaxy had come to know the name of Vader, and Sidious to a lesser extent, his own Sith alias and information thereof was more murky. He had to be careful about how much "Hego Damask" knew of Darth Plagueis if he didn't wish to draw attention to himself.
"He's the one that taught Darth Sidious until Sidious tried to betray him. We know less about him than we do about Vader," Anakin simplified.
"And you believe he is pulling strings in this situation?" Plagueis asked carefully.
"I can't say for certain, but it's possible. However, I believe I figured out who is involved the most of this," Anakin remarked, looking up at the Muun. "Magister, are you familiar with a man named Bohhuah Mutdah?"