Rhen Var: 0C
The ground in the icy blue caves of the perpetually frozen world lay littered with the bodies of soldiers in crimson armor.
"So this is the final stop for the Republic we fought for," a clone soldier sighed as he knelt down to check the pulse of one of them.
"No, this is the final stop for the Empire that Palpatine created for himself," Obi-Wan reassured the man.
"Still," another clone, an engineer, knelt down and examined the body. "What could have done this to them? They weren't killed by any blaster that we know of."
"Well, I suppose it would be because it wasn't a 'blaster' that did the job," the stranger in an overcoat that they'd met after landing stepped forward and aimed a glowing stick at the body before reading the side. "Ah, yes. I was afraid it would be those. But it's okay for you lot, right? I mean, you are soldiers after all."
"Doctor, if that is truly your name, I implore you that if you have any information that can aid us, please do not withhold it," Obi-Wan said to him. The man just looked at him blankly before walking around, kicking at the ice.
"Oh, it's nothing, really. Only some of the most dangerous beings the known Universe has ever faced," he walked up to the Jedi Master and looked him in the eye. "So let's pray that whatever it is that brought us here is worth it."
"Sir," Cody interrupted. "Another vessel has just landed on the opposite side of the cave."
"Then we should continue forward," Luke suggested. "Were they Republic?"
"Unknown, sir," Cody shook his head.
"General Skywalker," Captain Rex spoke up. "There's movement up ahead. You two, get up and stay focused."
"You heard the man!" another Commanding Officer, one in Galactic Marine armor, ordered them up and readied his shoulder-mounted Z-6.
"MORE INTRUDERS ARE ATTEMPTING TO INTERFERE!!!" a raspy robotic voice announced. "THEY MUST BE EXTERMINATED!!!"
"EXTERMINATE THE INTRUDERS!!! EXTERMINATE!!!" another chimed. Two semi-cylindrical beings with two prongs for "arms" and a long stalk for an eye hovered around the corner.
"I was really hoping it wasn't them," the Doctor grumbled.
"Luke, up here," Obi-Wan called the young Jedi Master forward. The pair of Jedi ignited their lightsabers as the clones unleashed a flurry of blaster bolts.
"EXTERMINATE!!!" one of the beings shouted and fired a beam at them, which Obi-Wan deflected at its companion. The beam, along with the bolts, were absorbed by a shield around its body. The beings stopped shooting at them. "HOW DID YOU REDIRECT OUR ATTACKS AT US!?!?! IT IS NOT POSSIBLE TO REDIRECT DALEK WEAPONRY!!! EXPLAIN!!! EXPLAIN!!!"
"SHIELDING IS OVERLOADING!!!" the other Dalek cried before its upper "body" exploded into flames.
"Push forward!" Obi-Wan ordered. The second Dalek began to retreat backwards but met the same fate as its comrade just seconds later. Upon rounding the corner, they saw five more of the homicidal machinations in a semi-circle where the cave opened up.
"MORE INTRUDERS HAVE REACHED OUR LOCATION!!! THEY MUST BE EXTERMINATED!!!"
"I'm getting real tired of these things," Cody grumbled. From the ledge above the Daleks, two figures in black armor jumped down behind them and ignited their blades.
"WE ARE BEING FLANKED!!!" a Dalek exclaimed, its voice slightly higher pitched.
"IMPOSSIBLE!!! HOW WERE THEY ABLE TO PASS BY OUR SENTRIES!?!?" a deeper pitched one demanded. The new pair swung at the murderous salt shakers, but their blades bounced against the shielding. The Daleks swiveled around to face the new threat, but were lifted into the air and forced to face each other. One by one, they were eliminated as they continued to aggressively shout in denial of their fate. The parties now faced one another, the caped swordsman in black armor breathing heavily. Obi-Wan turned off his lightsaber.
"Well you two most certainly took your time," he placed a hand on his hips. The two figures put away their blue sabers as well. "Tell me, did you find a gift shop?"
"I am sorry, Master," the individual formerly known as Darth Vader approached them. "If you hadn't noticed, their shielding prevented proper cutting. It is not as if we brought troopers with us as well."
"Still, it does beg the question why the Final Order is here, but also why these creatures are here as well," the other man, once Kylo Ren, looked through the burning debris of the Daleks.
"It pains me to see you two this way," Luke approached them. "You have already redeemed yourselves in the Force."
"I may have gained redemption in the eyes of the Force, but not in my own," his father told him. "I have committed a multitude of atrocities after my fall. I will continue to bear this armor until I have paid my penance."
"And I will serve it with you, Grandfather," Ren added.
"If it's any consolation, General, it's a good look on you," Rex complimented.
"This whole exchange is very heartwarming, especially in a world that is not very, well, not warm at all," the Doctor rubbed his hands and stepped forward. "But, why don't we figure out the reason the Daleks were here." They looked back to the Dalek's former defensive line and saw a small pedestal with a small yellow crystal floating on it.
"The Final Order were here for a Kyber Crystal?" Luke looked at it quizzically.
"This is no ordinary Kyber Crystal," Obi-Wan inspected it closer. "This is a Solari Crystal. They are incredibly rare." The Doctor scanned it with his device.
"This is most definitely the source of the energy surge," he noted.
"But how could the Final Order have located it, much less used it?" Kylo asked. "From what I remember in my studies, only those that are pure and wholly in line with the light-side of the Force could use them."
"Then that just begs the question how the Daleks could benefit from it," the Doctor twirled his device. "If that's the case, then it would look like they just sacrificed themselves for nothing, which is something they don't do very often."
"The light-side restriction can be bypassed," Obi-Wan gestured. His arms were folded and he had a hand to his chin. "If either the Final Order or the Daleks had acquired a Mantle of the Force or a Heart of the Guardian Crystal, they could do it. But how could they have achieved such a thing? Especially so soon seeing as these Crystals were only thought to be things of legend until a few months ago."
"We should take this to Master Fay," Vader suggested. "She is one of the purest we have known. She may have use for it."
"Attempting to impress Master Fay now, are we Anakin?" Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. The clones just shifted awkwardly.
"I am not yet worthy of that name again," he shook his head. "And no. I recommend her because there are few as long-lived as she and fewer that have lived their lives in complete devotion to the light."
"Very well, my friend," Obi-Wan collected the crystal. "But I'm not going to call you Vader."
"But if this 'Force' you all follow really is the key to using one of these, then how could the Daleks even hope to use it for themselves?" The Doctor pondered.
"Kyber Crystals can provide virtually limitless amounts of energy," Luke began to suggest.
"More movement up top," the 501st sharpshooter, a clone in airborne armor, announced. No sooner did he announce it, more armored figures appeared above them.
"UNSC! Identify yourselves!" one of the taller soldiers in dark-blue armor demanded.
"We are with the Republic investigating Final Order activity," Obi-Wan explained. "What brings you to our corner of the Galaxy?"
"Apologies, that may partially be my fault," an unarmed and unarmored man with a bowtie and a fez stepped forward. The Doctor shoved past Kenobi and aimed his device at the man. "Granted it was rather unwittingly. I was just minding my own business and investigating a power surge here when they came out of nowhere and swooped up my TAR- oh?" The new stranger finally noticed the Doctor and pulled out a device similar to his and pointed it at him. "What are you doing here?"
"Existing. What about you?" neither dropped their arms or devices.
"No, no, no," the other man said, gradually making his way closer by heading down the naturally-formed icy ramp, wagging his finger. "This isn't possible. I'M here right now. That means you shouldn't, CAN'T be here."
"But here we are somehow. So what are you? Zygon? No, they'd get the nose to look proper."
"You mind telling us what the hell's going on?" another UNSC soldier demanded. Both non-combatants looked at him.
"Well, it's quite simple, really," the Doctor put away his device and began walking around. "I'm him, or, well, he's me, no, actually, he's who I am after me. You get that? Yeah, you probably did. You look smart. Did I miss anything?"
"An apology for my nose," he pouted and adjusted his nostril.
"Not my fault your nose looks all wonky," the Doctor stood by his statement.
"Is too," he snapped back. "You were right before this. Besides, not your face, and I think it looks great."
"Well if I'd known I'd end up looking like that I would've put a bit more effort into getting that right."
"You're just jealous cause this is the face that reached a thousand," he made a circle around his own face with his finger, the two a few inches from each other. The stranger with the UNSC stepped back and addressed the Doctor's group. "Hello, you lot. I'm the Doctor."
_____
Earth 4: 0C
In addition to the return of previously deceased beings and defeated regimes, it didn't take long for many to realize that their realities had been merged with others. As a result, while not the norm, it was not entirely uncommon for spacefaring factions to discover multiple versions of the same planet. It just so happened that on one of these duplicates, one man was about to enlighten someone as to the grave and fatal error they had made. He quietly approached the rustic home in the heart of a wooded area overlooking Cranberry Lake.
Four guards, three... his thoughts trailed off. In addition to the four armed men guarding the home were three other creatures that appeared human-like but with dark brown, cracked and rough-looking skin. On the ground around them were two bodies of what could only be assassins. As if sensing his presence, the guards snapped to attention and faced the tree that provided him cover.
"Behind you!" one of them shouted and aimed at his position. This threw him off a little but he rolled out from behind his cover just in time for a bullet to embed itself into the trunk. He peeked over his shoulder and saw another assassin sprinting towards his position. The guards let loose a spray of suppressing fire at his assailant.
"Come on!" another waved him over. This doesn't make any sense he thought, but knew better than to waste this chance and dashed towards the entrance, adding to the volley as he did. Upon entering, another guard met him with his arms up despite wielding a rifle.
"You made it," he sounded relieved but understandably nervous.
"Why are you helping me?" he asked, keeping his pistol trained on the man. "I came here to kill your boss if he doesn't give me back what I came for."
"That is precisely why he wishes to speak with you," he handed him his rifle and slowly turned around. "This way, please." What the hell's going on here? It didn't take long for them to reach a door at the end of the straight hallway where laughter could be heard. The guard poked his head through and announced, "Mr. Reddington? He's here."
"Excellent," another man answered. "Send him in. And the rest of you, for the love of everything you hold dear, do NOT reach for a weapon or you'll be dead before you reach the grip." The guard opened the door and waved him through. He stormed in and aimed at the meeting of a slightly plump bald man in a black suit, an African man, and one of those humanoids in strange garb all sitting at a table covered in what could only be expensive delicacies. "Ah, Mr. Wick," the man in the suit smiled. "How good of you to finally join us. Care to sit? You absolutely MUST try this, uh, forgive me, Mr. Ohnaka, what was this called again?" he gestured to a platter with what looked like caviar and a raw egg, ignoring John and aggravating him further.
"That is Colo Claw Fish, Mr. Reddington," the being responded, his accent sounding close to a strange mix of Middle Eastern and Hispanic. John pressed the barrel against Reddington's head.
"Where!? Is she!?" he demanded.
"She's safe," he answered confidently. "Your dogs are fine too, in case you were wondering. They'll continue to be safe as well as long as they're under my protection."
"Protection!?" he shoved the barrel further into his skull. "You knock me out and drag them from my home and you call that protecting them!?"
"Would you rather I left them with you and have you defend them and yourself against every assassin after that irresistible fourteen million dollar bounty on your head?" Ohnaka spat out his drink.
"Fourteen milli‐ Raymond!" he stood up. "I'm all for doing good deeds and selflessly defending the weak, for a small price, of course, but do you really believe that we should pass up on a bounty that large?"
"Trust me, Hondo, the longterm rewards for forgoing it will make that fourteen million look like mere pocket change," Reddington assured him.
"Even pocket change can get you something shiny, but, in the name of being a good business partner, I will hear your plan."
"Splendid. Now, Johnathan," he refocused on the trained killer who had not removed the rifle's business end from his cranium. "I can reunite you with Helen and the dogs as well as take care of that pesky bounty on your head. I just need two things from you. The first of which is you please get that damned thing off of my head and sit down." As much as his trigger finger itched, John's curiosity got the better of him and he begrudgingly complied.
"What else?" he grumbled.
"I would like an audience with Winston," he said bluntly. "I don't need anything in-person. A video chat will do just fine or even just a phone call. As long as I'm able to talk business with him."
"And how does that help me, exactly?" John raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, right," Reddington chuckled and leaned to the man who had been silent up until this point. "Dembe, could you please get our guest?"
"Raymond, he is likely still feeling the effects of his sedation," he told him.
"Well I'm sure that when he sees dear Wick here, he'll wake up in a heartbeat," Reddington smiled. Dembe excused himself and left. Moments later, he returned with the man who had made his life hell, even from beyond the grave. John bolted up and aimed at his skull, but Reddington told him, "If you want the bounty off of your head, leave him alive. If you can manage that, I promise you he'll be all yours once this is over. Now, Winston." He handed him a phone.
"Johnathan?" he said groggily. "Where am I? Who are you people?"
"None of that matters, Mr. D'Antonio," Reddington said as John got to work on the tedious process of contacting the Kingpin of The Continental. "What does matter is that you're now a bargaining chip for Mr. Wick's freedom."
"And why would I do that?" he asked smugly.
"You're alive," he told him.
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"It's fine if you don't get it. You probably won't be for much longer."
"It's done," John handed over the phone, still wanting to put another bullet in Santino who had been bound and forced to sit down across from him.
"Thank you, Johnathan," Reddington graciously grabbed the phone and set it for a video conference.
"Who are you? How were you able to reach this number?" Winston demanded.
"Hello, Winston, my name is Raymond Reddington. I've recently come into contact with a mutual friend of ours that helped me get in touch with you. I have a business proposition for you."
"A business proposition," Winston chortled in disbelief. "Why?"
"For starters, I heard that the hashbrowns cooked in duck fat at The Continental are to die for," Reddington leaned back as if imagining the flavor before returning his attention to the phone. "I've also heard that you're the go-to man, the Kingpin, if you will, when it comes to business in the criminal underworld."
"And let's say, for argument's sake, I were to accept your offer. What could you provide The Continental with?" Winston asked.
"Everything," Reddington said confidently. "Because before this, whatever this is that brought us all together, that title belonged to me. Still does, from a certain perspective. However, it has recently come to my attention that our little operation here on Earth is rather limited. I've recently met another pleasant fellow who has graciously offered to help us grow to heights that are out of this world."
"And what if I am comfortable with the cozy operation here that has already proven successful?"
"It may be successful now, Winston, but I know you're not a fool. Not when it comes to professional matters anyway." Winston went silent for a moment as John continued to burn a hole through Santino.
"I will send you an address and a time where we can discuss the matter further," Winston finally spoke up.
"Excellent," Reddington laughed and clapped. "Oh, and before you go, there is one final matter."
"And that would be?"
"Do you recall that mutual friend I mentioned earlier? Well, he's been waiting oh so patiently this entire time and I think you two would very much like to see each other again." He turned the phone around and directed it towards John. Winston jumped back a bit in surprise. Before Winston got a chance to say anything, he directed it at Santino.
"Mr. D'Antonio," he sounded as surprised as he looked just seconds before. "After you didn't resurface, I was beginning to think you'd decided to stay dead."
"Trust me, Winston, my disappearance was not by choice," he said, finally free of the effects of the sedative. Reddington returned it to himself.
"So, about that pesky little bounty on poor Johnathan's head," he said.
"What about it?"
"Well, as you can see, our favorite D'Antonio is alive and well, thus opening up the technicality that Johnathan's crime can be swept under the rug and forgotten seeing as Santino isn't sitting in a chair inside The Continental creating a Pollock on your carpet with his mind."
"You want me to remove the bounty over a technical correctness?" Winston sounded insulted.
"Yes I do," Reddington stood his ground. "Which, if I might add, I've heard is the best kind of correctness. Not to mention if you don't at the very least consider it, we no longer have any business to discuss."
"Why do you care so much about it anyway?"
"Because, dear Winston, unlike you and your rules, I understand that our good friend, Mr. Wick, is much more valuable alive than dead and would look for the first opportunity to accept him back as soon as possible if I were in your shoes." The room went quiet as Winston stopped to think.
"Very well," he said. "I'll set things in motion. It will take some time, however." Santino's smug expression disappeared in an instant.
"Wait, what about me?" he asked, barely avoiding stammering. Reddington set the phone between them and John could see Winston apologetically shaking his head.
"I'm sorry, dear Mr. D'Antonio, but it would appear to me that you are on your own." He looked to John and said, "Farewell, you two, and I am looking forward to having you back, Johnathan."
"As is he, Winston," Reddington took the phone back. "Until next time, friend. Ciao." The call ended and left the room in silence once again.
"So what now?" John asked, fully curious as to what this stranger stood to gain from helping him.
"You can start by killing Santino if you'd like," Reddington gestured to the bound Italian. John shot up out of his seat and trugged over to him.
"Wait, John, wait," Santino withdrew into himself. "Wait, please. If I am alive, then that would mean my sister is as well. Which would mean that my gold marker is once again valid."
"Which means I can't kill you yet," John finished the thought and shook his head.
"No it doesn't," Reddington intervened.
"And what do you know about these kinds of matters?" Santino scowled at him.
"Enough," he stood up and reminded him who held the ultimate authority in the room. "First of all, that marker, which wasn't on your person or property when we took you, was already spent. John sent you to the forever box free of charge. But you already used up your golden ticket, be she alive or dead now."
"But that wouldn't..." he began to laugh nervously.
"I'm not done yet," Reddington raised his voice and held up a finger. "Second, and most importantly, Johnathan isn't with The Continental anymore, at least not yet. Which means in the brief period of time that it will take for him to be reinstated, he can do whatever the hell he wants. That includes ending you a second time." They both looked at him in amazement, but John nodded his gratitude to him. He's either quick on his feet with this kind of stuff or he's been preparing for this. John looked back at Santino, whose hope had disappeared from his eyes, and slammed the butt of his rifle against his head, knocking him and the chair to the ground. He dropped the rifle to the ground, prompting Reddington to comment, "I thought for sure you'd give him a closed casket again."
"I will," John took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. "But I told him that I'd use my hands." With that, he approached and made good on his promise.
"I haven't seen someone do something like that since, well, I'd rather not remember," Hondo remarked when John was done.
"From what I've gathered, I can assure you that he deserved every last bit of it," he informed him.
"Why help me?" John finally asked. "You already had a deal with Winston, so why jeopardize it by removing my bounty."
"Because I told you I would," he said, setting down a glass of some luminescent liquor. "I also want you to be part of my people." There it is.
"I appreciate what you've done for me," he told him. "But I plan on going back to retiring after this."
"I know you do, and I hope you enjoy it while it lasts."
"Is that a threat?"
"Simply stating facts. As you can see, things have changed and will continue to do so. One of these days, someone else is going to remember you and put another price on your head. When that happens, I'd like to be there to help."
"Thanks, but I think I can take care of myself," he stood up and scanned the room for where his wife might be.
"I know you can, but can you take care of your family as well?" John paused. Dammit, he's right.
"I'm listening," he conceded.
"You will be on my payroll as one of my men while still being a member of The Continental with the condition that when the inevitable bounty gets put on my head through them, you don't take it and help with protection. In return, you will be compensated and I will provide you and your family with protection and offer you my resources." Reddington smiled at him warmly.
"What assurance do I have that you wont just try and have me killed once I'm no longer useful to you," John glared.
"You have two. The first is I'm not that kind of man," he explained. "I value loyalty. You uphold your end and I'll uphold mine. The second is that we both know you'll kill me before I get the ball rolling on ordering your death."
"That is a very generous offer, Mr. Reddington," John bowed. "I'll think about it."
"That is wonderful to hear," he clasped his hands together. "In the meantime, Dembe will take you to your family."
"Thank you Mr. Reddington."
"Enjoy your retirement, Johnathan," he raised the glass to him. "I'll be in touch."
Author's Note:
Aaaaaand we're done. Sorry for the longer chapter, but let me know if you'd prefer chapters to be closer to this length or if 3,000ish is okay. Also, I know next to nothing about John Wick aside from what I saw in the second movie and some Googling, so if there's any inaccuracies with his portrayal in this chapter I would very much appreciate any advice on it. Anyway, hope y'all enjoyed it and see y'all in the next one.