Site-Ω-7, Holding Cell 4-B – 08:47 Local Site Time
The redacted schematic packet arrived on a third monitor—smaller, deliberately isolated from the main systems. No wireless transfer; a hard-wired auxiliary display cabled in through a sealed port in the wall. Security theater, mostly, but it made the engineers upstairs feel slightly better.
The screen showed:
- A simplified block diagram of the SR-9 Scranton Reality Anchor array
- Output logs from T-30 minutes to T+5 minutes around the breach (Hume values, power draw curves, frequency modulation attempts)
- A partial cross-section of the dimensional transfer chamber
- No site coordinates, no personnel names, no full component lists—just enough technical meat to be useful without handing over the keys to the kingdom.
Ahsoka leaned in first, eyes scanning the unfamiliar symbols and waveforms.
"These anchors… they're pushing against the local reality fabric," she said, tracing a finger along the Hume curve spike at breach moment. "Like holding a door shut so hard the frame cracks."
Yoda hopped lightly onto the bench for a better view, cane resting across his knees.
"Mmm. Crude. Effective… until it isn't."
Vader stepped closer—slow, deliberate—until he stood directly in front of the display. His helmet reflected the pale blue glow of the graphs. For nearly a minute he said nothing, simply studying.
Then one gloved finger extended—pointing at the exact moment the Hume differential inverted.
"Here," he said. Voice low, precise. "The inversion point. Your machine reached maximum resistance… and the Force met it. Equal and opposite. The tear formed precisely when the anchor tried to deny what was already flowing."
Dr. Voss's voice came through immediately—alert, almost eager.
"You're saying the breach wasn't a failure of the anchor, but a collision of incompatible physics?"
"Physics," Vader repeated, the word carrying faint disdain. "Your term. The Force does not obey equations. It simply is. When you forced it to obey, it refused."
Ahsoka glanced sideways at him.
"But you just read their logs like you've seen them before."
"I have seen machines attempt to cage power they do not understand," he replied. "The Empire built many. Most failed spectacularly."
Yoda made a small, thoughtful sound in his throat.
"Arrogance on both sides, there was. Yours… to contain what cannot be contained. Theirs… to believe containment possible without consequence."
Silence settled again—thicker now, layered with the weight of mutual recognition.
**Observation Post – 08:55**
The thaumatologist's tablet lit up with new overlays: every time Vader's finger had pointed at the screen, a micro-fluctuation appeared in the rift's shear-stress curve. Tiny. Repeating. Almost like echoes.
"Doctor," he said quietly, "the armored entity isn't just observing. He's… interacting. Passively. The rift is responding to his focus."
Voss watched the live cell feed. Vader had lowered his hand but remained close to the monitor, posture unchanged.
"Passive interaction," she murmured. "He's not trying to break anything. He's analyzing."
Harlan folded his arms tighter.
"If he can read our schematics that fast and that accurately, we may be dealing with something closer to a cognitohazard than a humanoid. O5 needs to know."
"They already do," Voss said. "They authorized the packet. They're watching the same feeds we are."
She keyed the intercom again—careful tone.
"Thank you for the observation. We're seeing correlated fluctuations on our end. Can you elaborate on what you mean by 'the Force met it'?"
Vader turned his helmet toward the glass.
"The Force is aware," he said simply. "Not sentient in the way you understand. Not a mind. But it reacts. Adapts. When your anchor denied passage, the Force created passage elsewhere. A detour through your reality."
Ahsoka exhaled slowly.
"So closing it isn't about shutting a door," she said. "It's about convincing the Force the door never needed to be forced in the first place."
Yoda nodded once.
"Harmony restores. Force against force… widens."
**Rift Chamber Perimeter – 09:03**
Outside, the clones had grown quieter. Several sat against crates or the walker's legs, helmets off, sharing water from the Foundation crates. ARC-5597 remained standing, periodically checking his comm for any word from higher up the chain of command that might still exist on the far side.
A low, steady hum drifted from the rift—not louder, but denser. The second walker—visible now as another AT-TE—had edged its front legs across the threshold, testing the floor like a wary animal sniffing unfamiliar ground. It did not advance further. It simply waited.
A clone technician near the walker's cockpit called softly to ARC-5597.
"Sir, power draw on the secondary walker just smoothed out. Like something told it to stand by."
The ARC trooper glanced toward the cell corridor—too far to see, but the direction felt right.
"General Yoda," he muttered. "Or Lord Vader."
He keyed his comm anyway.
"All units, maintain current posture. No movement. We wait for orders from inside."
Affirmatives came back—tired, but steady.
**Holding Cell 4-B – 09:11**
Vader stepped back one pace from the monitor.
"To seal the rift," he said, "your anchors must stop pushing. They must allow. Synchronize with the natural flow instead of opposing it."
Ahsoka looked at him—searching the blank mask for something human.
"You're suggesting we turn the anchors into… conduits?"
"Precisely."
Dr. Voss's voice returned after a brief delay—long enough for hurried consultation upstairs.
"That's… theoretically possible. Dangerous. If we detune the anchors instead of overclocking them, we risk losing containment entirely. But if we match the frequency you're describing…"
She trailed off.
Yoda finished the thought.
"Trust the Force must be there. Not control it. Guide it."
Vader's helmet turned toward Yoda—slowly.
"Trust," he echoed. The word sounded foreign in his modulator. "A luxury the Jedi could afford. I learned otherwise."
Yoda met the blank stare without flinching.
"Learned… or chose?"
No answer came.
But Vader did not move away from the monitor.
The schematics remained on screen—quietly glowing, quietly waiting for the next question.
The rift outside waited too.
Patient.
Attentive.
**End of Chapter 13**