Site-Ω-7, Holding Cell 4-B Observation Post – 05:32 Local Site Time
The standoff at the cell door had frozen into something almost sculptural: Nu-7 Alpha team rigid in tactical formation, suppressors steady, reality anchors casting faint distortion ripples; inside, Vader framed exactly in the doorway like a shadow given form, unmoving, unblinking; Yoda still seated behind him, small and ancient; Ahsoka standing just off-center, gaze flicking between the armored soldiers and her former master.
No one had crossed the threshold in either direction.
Dr. Elena Voss exhaled slowly through her nose, watching the feed. The facility tremor had subsided for now, but the rift readings on the secondary monitor continued their slow, inexorable climb. Whatever was coming next was taking its time—methodical, deliberate, patient in a way that made the waiting worse than any sudden explosion.
She keyed the observation intercom again, choosing her words with care.
"Captain Voss, this is Dr. Voss. Stand down from breaching posture. Lower weapons to low-ready. Maintain anchors, but do not advance. We are shifting to dialogue protocol."
A brief pause on the squad channel. Captain Mira Voss's voice came back clipped but professional.
"Understood. Alpha team, weapons low. Anchors stay hot. Eyes on all three."
The kneeling operators eased their suppressors downward—still ready, still aimed, but no longer center-mass. The Null Field emitter's whine dropped half an octave as its operator adjusted output to minimum sustainable.
Inside the cell, Ahsoka's shoulders relaxed a fraction. She glanced at Yoda, who gave the smallest nod.
Vader did not acknowledge the de-escalation. His helmet remained fixed forward, regarding the corridor beyond the door as though the soldiers were already ghosts.
Dr. Voss switched to the cell's internal speakers, voice measured and even.
"This is Dr. Elena Voss again. We are not seeking further violence. Our priority is understanding what happened—how you arrived, what you represent, and how to prevent additional incursions that endanger lives on both sides. If you are willing to provide information, we can discuss terms for temporary cooperation."
Silence stretched again—longer this time.
Yoda broke it first, voice soft but carrying clearly through the pickup.
"Information, you seek. Answers, we have. But trust… fragile it is. Words alone will not mend what fear has broken."
Ahsoka stepped half a pace closer to the doorway—careful not to cross the invisible line.
"Your people are fighting ours in the corridors," she said. "Clones. Trained soldiers. They don't know this place. They see armor and weapons and think Separatist trap. If we can speak to them—calm them—maybe we stop this before more blood is spilled."
Captain Voss, still at the threshold, responded before Dr. Voss could interject.
"We have containment teams engaging your secondary entities. They are armed, organized, and using lethal force. Our response is proportional. If your soldiers stand down, ours will follow."
Ahsoka's lekku twitched in frustration.
"They follow orders. Right now those orders are to secure the breach and protect Jedi. They won't stand down unless a Jedi tells them to."
Vader spoke then—low, deliberate, directed at no one and everyone.
"The clones serve. They obey. They die when commanded. Your containment is no different."
The words landed like stones in still water. In the observation post, one of the analysts muttered, "That's… uncomfortably accurate."
Dr. Voss ignored the comment and pressed forward.
"Then help us reach them. Allow supervised communication. We can route a secure channel to one of your personnel—if any are still conscious and reachable. In exchange, we guarantee no lethal action against them during the attempt."
Another tremor—lighter than before, but accompanied by a new sound: the unmistakable metallic *thud-thud-thud* of heavy walkers moving somewhere deeper in the sublevels. Not Foundation equipment.
A voice crackled over the facility-wide emergency channel—shaky, breathless.
"Command, this is Bravo-4. We have visual on large quadruped constructs—armed, shielded. They're pushing toward the rift chamber. Engaging… but they're tough. Recommend heavy ordinance."
Captain Voss glanced back toward the observation post through her visor cam.
"Doctor. Clock's ticking."
Inside the cell, Yoda rose slowly to his feet, cane tapping once against the floor.
"Enough waiting, there has been," he said quietly. "A bridge, we must build. Or all falls."
He looked directly at the one-way glass—somehow finding Dr. Voss's eyes despite the barrier.
"A message, I will send. Through the Force. Small. Controlled. To any who remain on the other side. Calm them, it might. But trust you must give, for trust you ask."
Voss hesitated—only for a heartbeat.
"What do you need?"
"Nothing physical," Yoda replied. "Only silence. And… no sudden moves."
He closed his eyes. His breathing deepened, slow and even.
For several seconds, nothing visible changed.
Then—on the secondary monitors monitoring the rift chamber—a single clone trooper (armor scorched, pauldron cracked) suddenly froze mid-movement. His helmet tilted as though listening to something no one else could hear. Slowly, he lowered his blaster.
Around him, other clones paused, confused, looking to him for direction.
In the cell, Yoda opened his eyes again.
"Done, it is. A whisper only. More… dangerous now would be."
Ahsoka exhaled audibly.
"They'll listen to him. For now."
Vader remained silent, but the oppressive weight around him seemed to ease—just a fraction.
In the corridor, Captain Voss keyed her comm.
"Bravo teams, hold fire. Repeat: hold fire. Anomalous pacification attempt in progress. Confirm clone elements standing down."
Affirmatives came back—wary, but immediate.
The facility-wide alarms dropped one notch in pitch.
Not peace. Not yet.
But a thread. Thin. Fragile. Stretched across universes.
The heavy walkers continued their slow advance, however—unpacified, uncommunicative.
Something larger still waited on the other side.
**End of Chapter 6**