Site-Ω-7, Central Command – 09:32 Local Site Time
The technical conference room adjacent to the observation post had become an impromptu war room. Three large screens dominated one wall: one showing the live rift aperture with overlaid Hume contours, another displaying the SR-9 anchor control interface in read-only mode, the third patched directly into Holding Cell 4-B's auxiliary monitor so the entities could see what the engineers were seeing.
Dr. Elena Voss stood at the center console, flanked by the lead thaumatologist, two anchor-system specialists, and Director Harlan—who had finally stopped pacing and now watched with folded arms and an expression that said he still expected everything to go catastrophically wrong at any moment.
On the cell feed, the three figures remained clustered around their own monitor. Ahsoka had pulled the bench closer so Yoda could sit at eye level with the schematics. Vader stood behind them—immobile, a dark pillar against the sterile white wall.
Voss keyed the shared channel.
"We've isolated one of the peripheral anchor nodes—Node C-4, lowest-output emitter in the array. It's the least critical for overall stability. We're proposing a small-scale test: reduce its opposing field by 18% and introduce a modulated carrier wave based on the frequency inversion point you identified. Goal is to observe whether the rift shear-stress responds without cascading failure."
Ahsoka looked up from the screen.
"Eighteen percent is conservative," she said. "Good. Small moves first."
Yoda nodded slowly.
"Like breathing. In… and out. Force the breath, choke. Allow it… calm returns."
Vader's helmet tilted toward the camera pickup.
"Execute the adjustment," he said. No preamble. No cautionary words. Just the command.
One of the anchor specialists hesitated, glancing at Voss.
She gave a small nod.
"Proceeding. Node C-4 detuning in three… two… one."
On the main rift monitor, a single red segment in the anchor lattice dimmed fractionally. Numbers ticked downward: opposing field strength –17.9%, carrier wave introduced at 0.47 Hz deviation from baseline.
For twelve seconds, nothing visible changed.
Then the rift's blue glow softened—edges less jagged, less flickering. The shear-stress graph dipped by 1.4%, then steadied. No spike. No feedback surge.
The thaumatologist let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"Positive response," he reported. "Shear stress down, aperture variance reduced by 0.11 meters. No instability detected."
In the cell, Ahsoka exhaled audibly.
"It felt… quieter," she said. "Like the pressure in the room just eased."
Yoda closed his eyes briefly, ears twitching.
"Mmm. A step toward balance. Small. Fragile. But real."
Vader remained silent for several beats longer than usual. When he spoke, his voice carried a different timbre—still mechanical, still cold, but threaded with something almost analytical.
"The adjustment was correct," he said. "But incomplete. The carrier wave frequency is off by approximately 0.03 Hz. Correct it, and the damping effect will double."
The specialists exchanged quick glances. One typed rapidly; the graph updated in real time as they applied the micro-correction.
Shear stress dropped another 0.9%.
Voss allowed herself a small, careful smile.
"Thank you," she said. "That was… precise."
Vader did not acknowledge the thanks.
**Rift Chamber Perimeter – 09:41**
Outside, the change was subtler but unmistakable.
The second AT-TE—still half-protruding through the rift—eased its forward legs back half a meter. Not retreat. Just… relaxation. Its repulsorlifts cycled down to idle hum. Several clone troopers looked up from their positions, helmets tilting in confusion.
ARC-5597 stepped closer to the aperture, peering through.
"Troopers," he called softly over squad comms, "you feel that?"
Affirmatives murmured back—relief, mostly. A few removed helmets again, wiping sweat from brows.
One trooper near the first walker muttered, "Feels like the air just got thinner. Easier to breathe."
ARC-5597 glanced toward the distant corridor where the cell lay hidden.
"Generals are doing something," he said. "Hold steady. Whatever it is… it's working."
**Holding Cell 4-B – 09:48**
Ahsoka leaned back slightly, arms folded.
"That felt good," she admitted. "Like we actually moved the needle."
Yoda's small smile was tired but genuine.
"Together, we did. Not one side forcing. Both sides listening."
Vader turned away from the monitors—slowly, deliberately—and walked to the far wall. He stopped there, facing the blank concrete, cape settling around him like folded wings.
Ahsoka watched him for a moment.
"You didn't have to help," she said quietly. "You could have let it tear wider. Let them panic. Let chaos do the work for you."
Vader did not turn.
"Chaos serves no one," he replied. "Not even me."
He paused—long enough that the mechanical breathing seemed to fill the entire cell.
"When I was… younger," he continued, voice lower, "I believed power meant breaking things until they obeyed. I learned—too late—that some things break you back."
Yoda regarded him with steady, ancient eyes.
"Learned… or are still learning?"
Vader did not answer.
But he did not walk away, either.
On the rift monitor, the aperture had shrunk another 0.08 meters.
Small.
Incremental.
Enough to hope.
**End of Chapter 14**