Attack Darth Vader

The decision came in an instant. Tempus ignited his crimson blade and exploded through the doorway, the broad cleaver of crackling energy carving a brilliant arc through the compartment. The nearest stormtrooper barely had time to turn before the blade struck, sending him crashing to the deck.

A second trooper raised his blaster, but Tempus swept the weapon aside with the flat of his blade and followed through with a brutal strike that dropped him beside his companion. The remaining soldiers recoiled in confusion as an unknown Sith materialized from nowhere, attacking friend and foe alike.

Leia instinctively stepped backward while the surviving stormtroopers scrambled to form a firing line. Only one figure remained perfectly still. Darth Vader slowly turned. The polished lenses of his mask settled upon Tempus with unnerving calm. There was no surprise, no panic.

There was only the measured curiosity of a predator confronted by another it had never encountered before. The mechanical rhythm of his respirator echoed through the ruined compartment as he regarded the stranger in silence. Tempus struck first.

He surged forward with all the speed the dark side granted him, bringing the massive crimson cleaver down in a crushing overhead blow meant to end the duel before it truly began..The strike never landed. Vader's gloved hand rose almost lazily. Tempus stopped dead in his tracks.

An invisible vise clamped around his throat with crushing force, lifting him from the deck as though he weighed nothing. His boots kicked helplessly several feet above the floor while his lightsaber slipped from nerveless fingers and clattered across the durasteel.

Then came the realization..It was not merely Vader's grip that held him. It was his presence. The Force surrounding Vader crashed into Tempus's consciousness like an avalanche. Beneath the towering Sith Lord's disciplined exterior lay an ocean of agony, rage, grief, and relentless will compressed into a single impossible mind.

Tempus had spent years studying history's descriptions of Darth Vader, dismissing many as fearful exaggeration. They had understated him. The sheer psychic static flooding from Vader was almost incomprehensible. Decades of suffering, betrayal, loss, and hatred had forged something that felt less like a man than a singularity in the Force.

Tempus's own connection to the dark side buckled beneath the weight of it. His thoughts scattered. The intricate calculations of Chronomancy dissolved into meaningless fragments. For the first time since claiming Darth Chronos's holocron, his mind simply... stopped.

Vader studied him for a long moment, the unseen grip tightening just enough to deny him breath without immediately ending his life. The remaining stormtroopers recovered from their shock. Blaster rifles snapped upward in perfect discipline. Vader did not even look toward them. He simply continued holding the stranger suspended in the air.

The first volley of blasterfire struck Tempus squarely across the chest. The impacts slammed into his armor with explosive force, hurling his body backward despite Vader's invisible grip. More bolts followed in rapid succession, scorching leather, armor, and flesh alike.

Tempus struggled to summon the Force, to reach for the portal that had carried him here, but the crushing psychic weight pressing against his consciousness reduced every attempt to nothing more than meaningless instinct. Another volley struck, then another. His vision blurred beneath the relentless impacts.

The last thing he saw was Vader lowering his hand with quiet indifference as Tempus's broken body collapsed heavily onto the deck beside his extinguished lightsaber. The alarms continued to sound. Smoke continued to drift through the corridor. Within moments, the boarding action resumed as though the mysterious intruder had never existed at all, his brief assault swallowed by the chaos of history he had sought to rewrite.

THE END