moved to @rxpture

The Kryptonian's gaze snapped upward in time to catch the wizard above him, just an instant away from redirecting the icy torrent, before he felt the flow of air come to a violent stop in his throat, eyes going wide as he was choked silent by the invisible force.

Not having the chance to try and flex his throw muscles to shake off the Sith's grip before he was suddenly yanked up; preemptively gritting his teeth as he felt the force coalescing above him, any opportunity to properly brace for the impact already stolen from him.

A deafening impact ringing in his ears as the backhand devastated the surrounding area, sending the Kryptonian crashing through the floor and the armory's fortifications as they were but glass...

... though, it would turn out that the building wasn't the only thing severely damaged, as the cyborg would find the mechanical hand he'd used to deliver the monstrous slap to the interloper's face to have been mangled beyond all use, in spite of the protections of the force.

A realization that might come accompanied by that of the fact that, while Kal-El had been sent through everything dividing the two floors... he hadn't actually been cratered in the ground below, like may have been intended- he'd come to a stop in the air, rubbing his unscathed chin as he started back up through the hole he'd created.

The Sith at most having the chance to catch sight of the alien's gaze sharpening before, in an instant... he vanished from sight.

Like a ship disappearing into hyperspace.

His new location only signaled physically by the blast of air that followed him, and Vader's now billowing cape being grabbed.

"Your way, then."

The Kryptonian said from behind him, before the man became a twister- a red tornado engulfing the floating Sith, wrapping his helmeted head completely in his own cape in less than second, or even a thousandth of one, before coming to a stop so sudden that the whirlwind he'd created would keep tearing at the cyborg.

All in an instant of preamble before his actual attack; the Kryptonian's arm reeling back, a rumbling hum radiating out as the galeforce he'd created was overpowered by the simple motion, air from both floors being pulled alongside it... a storm gathered around his fist.

Vader barely had enough time to register that, let alone that Kal had once more caught himself before impact and was gone. The overwhelming presence of the man in the Force allowing him to follow the trail well enough, but even he had difficulty keeping up with such speed unprompted. Leaving him to grunt in bemusement as his cape fluttered over his head and the tornado buffeted his dark visage. Small imperfections forming over his suit and dents in his helmet. Before with a push of his arms, a rush of the Force knocked away the offending assault.

He couldn't have prepared for the oncoming strike, however, even as the Force itself cushioned most of the impact, it still left him reeling through the armory shelves. The various equipment and armor flying this way and that whilst Vader released a harsh counter blast backwards as he righted himself; boots dragging against the metal as he slowed himself to a stop before he slammed through the very wall itself.

"Most impressive," Vader mused, as he flexed the worthless cybernetic hand. "The Force is strong in you, even if I see now you are no Jedi."

The metal buckled, before it began to disassemble itself, the salvageable parts hanging nearby him while the rest are nonchalantly dropped onto the floor. How fortuitous they wound up here of all places, for his cybernetics to fail him. It wasn't hard to see what was happening, for Vader had no true reason to hide it. Clark could see swords, blasters, and even grenades being disassembled all around them in real time. Even a spare set of armor being stripped for parts.

"Tell me, what even brought one such as yourself to this outer rim backwater planet? It was hardly even on the Empire's radar before you came here. Just a simple rock that happened to be on a trade route."

Clark could see that Vader was, right there, creating a new cybernetic hand from various parts in the room, all whilst holding this conversation. (How he missed when droids were more commonplace as cannon fodder, they would have made a far better source of spare parts...)

If he felt threatened, however, the dark lord hid it flawlessly, as he stared the Kryptonian down all the while. This was an opponent that would take more focus than Vader expected and he would have deeply liked more time to prepare. All of that, however, would have left time for the Emperor to hear whispers of this man. If he hadn't sensed such a great disturbance in the Force already.

As much of a forewarning as his superhuman senses gave him, the omen could have never prepared him for what was unleashed.

To say he was 'pushed' would have been disingenuous- it was like a great canon had blasted him point-blank, turning him and anything immediately behind him into bullets tearing through the building.

It was enough force to take even him off-guard as he was sent tumbling through walls, taking time for him to reorient himself... closing his eyes and, moments before he would have come to a crash-landing, spinning in the air until he righted himself, coming to a floating stop.

Taking in the current situation through a more disciplined gaze, now that he knew the power on display, he sees the imperial staff and soldiers scattering about between him and Vader, first...

... Kal moving first not to return to the fight, but to a heavy chunk of the reinforced metal that the dark lord had shattered; lifting it off the ground with one hand, revealing an imperial trapped beneath it.

"You may want to EVACUATE!" He yelled out of the rising storm, grabbing the injured officer off the ground with his free hand and tossing him towards the gawking Stormtroopers, not taking his eyes off the ever-approaching hurricane the entire time.

Reeling his other arm back, the Kryptonian launches the ton of metal through the air towards Vader like a fastball; a simple attack, and one that only served as cover for him to launch into flight behind it and, when it was stopped, charging right through it.

It was a simple tactic, divert attention from himself with a feint that he knew Vader would be capable of catching, then capitalize with his actual strike. Something Vader had more than enough experience to see through even as it approached him... yet, his hand predictably raised to bring the slab of metal to a standstill all the same.

He wanted to see what this potential Jedi had up his sleeve first, before deciding what to do next.

So Vader allowed the other to barrel through the metal, much like he was capable of surviving the initial push mostly unscathed; grunting as he slid back on metallic boots from the slam into him. The Force cushioning his drag backwards as he focused on the battle before him and all it entailed. The inhale of air with such purpose made the Sith's muscles tense in preparation, though what came wasn't precisely what Vader could have anticipated.

An elemental-wielder? An exceedingly rare thing in the Force, even if the Jedi's master of inertia and amplification was already admirable. How had one this powerful not been on any of the lists of potential Force-Sensitives kept in the archives?

Such pondering was thrown aside for the current prerogative: A freezing gale was suddenly filling the space between the two, leaving Vader with a split-second decision to make. Something all too common in any battle.

With a mere flick of a finger, the metal floor beneath them yields to the Force as it bows upwards; the chill of the air crashing into the new barrier before the dark lord. However brief he stood behind it, suddenly guided by the same currents he manipulated to send him atop the barrier and skyward in two mere strides. Impossibly deft for what Kal had seen beneath this suit, as he then strode along the wall; only for that black current to suddenly compress on the Kryptonian's windpipe like a vice.

A politician, a general, an admiral, or spymaster... anything like that was what he'd have expected as a response to his actions here, but this... this was something distinctly different. The abilities and discipline showcased by their appearance here before him would have suggested he was an assassin, but... that wasn't quite right, either.

Through all the machinery keeping him alive, this figure was speaking with authority- a greater authority than any petty political or military official, much less someone working for them. Less like the tyranny of Mongul or Zod, and more like the unearthly presence of Darkseid.

More of a force than a man.

Even with his super senses, he could not read anything about the being before him, or his intentions with this encounter. Curiosity, maybe? It's all that would justify not simply making an attempt on his life.

Not that it mattered to him, of course.

"You will not destroy this world, retaliation or otherwise."

It was an uncomplicated retort, but one delivered with complete assurance, as if he'd simply stop an attempted bombardment all by himself. An assertion that would have almost certainly been laughed off by anyone working under Vader... but, they weren't Vader.

"What will become of this world afterward isn't for me or the empire to speculate on- what matters is that their fate will be in their hands." He continued, not humoring the appeal to hypotheticals or the futility of challenging a 'stable' status quo. He knew better than that.

Instead, as the dark lord took another challenging step towards him, a subtle glow shimmered in his eyes... Kal-El taking this remaining moment to make his own observations of the Sith.

A grimace growing on his face as he looked him over.

Nor was this a man to care for the political nature, evidently. A rarity among rebels, who would tote their faction as who will lay the foundation for years to come. No, this man did speak like a Jedi. Not like those of the Council a different, younger man knew, who put themselves in some lofty political messiah-like station. Once the deed was done, their involvement was nonexistent.

Everything, from the way this man spoke, to the way his mere presence left the dark current of the Force that powered what Vader was shirk back, told him that this man truly was a force to be reckoned with. Jedi or not.

Then came that shimmer in the eyes, as Kal-El took in what was left of the man before him. So little amidst all the grafted on technology that it was hard to truly tell even for him where human and machine began or ended. Able to see the unnatural glower of eyes beneath that mask staring back at him now as he spoke next. Vader never enjoyed the state of his being now, aware of it's reminder of failure. So many failures that it was a monument itself. How he knew that failure ensured his servitude to the Emperor.

Something that Kal-El, too, seemed aware of in a way, just from how he spoke of it.

It was always a question, of course, if he had chosen this for himself, or if it were the Emperor from the start. He already knew the answer, in a way. This body was hardly his own, that much was a given, and it was as limiting as it was what kept him alive. If the scarred and mangled mess beneath the suit and cybernetics could be called alive anymore.

"The question that you should be asking, Kal of House El," he began, as the very air in the room seemed to buckle under the weight of Vader's presence, the audible groan of metal and crack of glass screens foretelling the oncoming storm,

"is whether yours is."

It was not so much as the hand being raised itself was what caused the next phenomenon to happen. It was merely akin to the conductor's wand. Vader's hand rose and currents of dark energy rocked forward like a dam being broken. Dark currents that slammed into Kal with enough force that it tore through the wall behind him like it was sheet paper— not the reinforced metal meant to withstand forces comparable to nuclear arms, before he had even hit it himself.

Even as the now apparent trap snapped itself shut around them and the Sith informed him of the futility of his search, he didn't so much as flinch... surprise melting away to reveal the unshaken resolve underneath, staring into the eyes of the right hand's mask.

The silence was allowed to fester, for only a moment, before he stepped away from now useless console; lifting his hood and letting it collapse back into his cloak, now revealed as more of a cape...

"I am Kal, of the House of El, of Krypton." He answered succinctly and without mystery, as he stepped directly before the dark lord. "These are names that will mean nothing to you, nor anyone else in your empire, as they and I are all that remains of a world long since destroyed."

There wasn't an ounce of dishonesty or diffidence found in the words or in the Force, the alien confronting Vader with composure even an accomplished Jedi would have trouble keeping in his presence.

Not even a drop of recognition, from what is gathered. Those soulless black voids that constituted what many saw as his eyes already more focused on dissecting every aspect of this 'Kal' before him. The attire worn was hardly befitting a Jedi, though that was largely irrelevant. The proper order has been gone for some time and, as said, may even be from a culture entirely lost to time. Even the alien symbol adorned on his chest was something that was ultimately of little importance. Save the fact it was clearly an emblem this man used for his lofty and idealistic goals.

Darth Vader isn't even surprised by the lack of fear, truthfully, it's what makes all rebels 'strong'. Many never back down, even when on their death beds, so seeing one that so brazenly defied the Empire like this stand proud before him itself isn't necessarily alarming. In a way, some would even find it admirable.

None of this truly surprised Vader, so why was there some indefinable itch in the back of the Sith's mind that this man was more than he seemed? Already, he assumed Jedi, though his search for a Lightsaber reached no conclusion either. Hidden, perhaps, unlike the tubular hilt that hung at the Sith's side.

Was this Kal a practitioner in the Force alone, rather than one that dueled? It would explain how he could walk in here without so much as a glance of him in such garish attire.

"Hrm."

It was an idle sound as the other spoke, almost mistakable as one of the many sounds of the machines keeping this macabre excuse for a body alive. These words, too, were something he'd heard before. A mere speech among many like it that had come before their fall. Yet, they were alone, away from prying eyes and, most importantly, away from the Emperor's.

"How will you do that?" He inquired, posture lax despite the rigidity of his stance. "You loosen the Empire's grip from this planet and then what will you do? Will you stay to govern it? Fly off to another planet whilst this one cannibalizes itself from the power vacuum you've created? Perhaps is wiped out in retaliation for your actions?"

He was not oft to humor rebels, as many might see this as a sign of weakness or disloyalty, but he had to know more. Even if the banter itself was a mere excuse to continue surveying the man. The Force was strong here, true, but the analogies before did not do it justice. This close, it was more like standing before a white sun, wild and... untrained? Something that surely couldn't be right.

But, while any outright violence against the Empire had ceased, subterfuge against them would continue in spite of their show of force; communications were disrupted, supply lines were interrupted, equipment was damaged, and prisoners were freed.

While it wasn't unexpected for some lesser acts of rebellion to continue, especially nonviolent efforts such as these that would normally be a sign of understood weakness, the sheer number of incidents was starting to undermine their authority... moreover, as the report from the Planetary Governor & the system's Moff would say, they could not find evidence of any group orchestrating the events.

Their conclusion being that the planet's dissidents had established some unknown form of communication, as otherwise the only explanation would be that an individual was undermining them single-handedly, in spite of events occurring across the entire planet.

Reports like these would normally be disregarded as localized incompetence and never go too far up the chain of command... but, a disturbance in the force centered on the planet might make that local report be demanded to be seen by wiser eyes, bringing more attention to the backwater world than it normally would have ever gotten.

That might have been why a personal transport ship had arrived in the hangar of the planet's imperial military base... something that, in of itself, may attract the interest of their mysterious adversary.

Cameras facing small seconds of interference, patrols hearing strange voices only to find nothing, brief lapses in communications... a string of events that the underlings could easily rationalize as the standard imperfections of their technology... even as the incidents formed together as a 'path' towards one particular room.

A lone figure was stood there in the base's meager data center, wrapped up in a red cloak, head hooded over, reading the latest docking logs and anything that would have been attached to them... completely unaware that, in spite of his talents, he was noticed.

Rather, it was something Vader ensured would not garner his Master's attention. All reports on this planet went through his Inquisitors then, after failure to procure so much as a single tangible lead, himself.

He had made sure his appearance at this planet was completely under wraps, even so much as his landing was done entirely to ensure a complete lack of trail to the Emperor's right hand having arrived on this backwater planet. Even still, he was sure that whoever was causing these interferences would be aware of it.

He'd had to see for himself what this incursion could be.. and what he saw perplexed him.

It was something so enriched in the light side of the Force it was nauseating, in a way. To call it a lighthouse in the dark would be insufficient and inaccurate all at once. It was like a crashing wave of a storm. Something that could be ignored no longer. That was why, as the figure surveyed the data center, the door did not hiss open. No—

"You were wise to be discreet in your subterfuge."

Only now did the hiss of mechanical breath echo in the room, the thick shadows in a dark corner taking shape as Darth Vader stepped out of them; his cape seeming to pull the last vestiges of darkness along with it.

"However, it was foolish to come here. All data in this room is already taken care of. You'll find nothing of importance for you."

As he spoke, the sound of locks snapping into place all around were made apparent, revealing any entrances or exits to the room were reinforced. It was clear that, true to his word, Vader had been expecting this.

"You will speak now, if only to tell me who you are."

Mechanical transformations weren't at all unfamiliar for Ben and the Omnitrix, with cybernetic aliens like Armodrillo, armored species like Atomix, and even one artificial sample with Upgrade... and yet, this new body had a completely distinct feel to it. A unique spark.

One that, as his eyes widened at the blasts raining down on him, he felt surge in his chest as instincts took over- a metal faceplate sliding over his mouth and an arm shooting up to face the attack.

An emitter popping from his wrist, and with a burst of emerald energon, a knightly energon shield was created to adorn it; Starscream's attacks bouncing off it harmlessly, eliciting a surprised 'ooooh...!' from the newly born faux-Cybertronian as he looked over the construct.

He was clearly impressed with his own abilities, but not so much so that he couldn't hear the bickering going on between the two... let alone the sounds of continuing attacks, him having to act fast to shield bash a pouncing cassette beast away, barely catching another in his free hand. Even with his newfound stature, they were still keeping him on his mechanical toes... and in doing so, opening him up for the next attack as a sonic blast shatters through his previously created ice.

Again he is forced to act on instinct, the only thought in his head being to 'move' and 'fast', and again, the new alien takes over- transforming.

While one might think his databanks would've been left bare with this new DNA, it seems his Cybertronian body was able to borrow from his own genetic memories, as a shape familiar to him began to shape.

The green muscle car skidding out of the way of the sonic blast, slamming it's side into another cassette beast as it evaded the attack.

Before, with a revving of a monstrous engine (that Ben was now very thankful to have helped Kevin with, boring as it was at the time), the vehicle barreled towards the two arguing Decepticons, running over or through any of the smaller bots that didn't take the time to dodge.

Carrying all that momentum into a mis-transformation roll, launching through the air in his humanoid form to deliver a flying dropkick.

Aiming to send both of them launching backwards, before landing.

"Do you think just because of your fancy tricks you can best us, Autobot? Your jests mean nothing to the new leader of the Decepticons!" Shrill voice cried, Starscream landing with an arrogant growl in his throat.

"I should thank you, though. Dealing with Megatron has left me the opening I needed to rule the Decepticons the right way! The fool was too focused on the old. Cybertron is gone and with it, all those lofty ideals! Now, I'll rule this insipid planet and show them who really ought to-"

The words are cut off as the purple light behind them is far too bright to ignore now, though only able to register it fast enough to know what is coming; the blast of energy sending the small Decepticon through one wall and the next as the beam tore a hole clean out into the cool night air.

"You would know something about jokes, wouldn't you, Starscream?"

The towering cybertronian stepped through the rubble, glowering eyes staring daggers at Ben now as she cracked her neck. There were visible dents and deep gashes in Megatron's outer armor, though she didn't seem as worse for wear as one might expect.