The laser shot echoed throughout sickbay. A ratty-faced medical tech crumpled to the ground, charred smoking hole in his chest.
"Anyone else insisting on recording the general's vital signs?" Dr. Wintlock asked over the barrel of his pistol. The tuft of ozone smoke swirled out of it's nozzle dangerously.
Men dropped their heads, some bowing to hide behind instrument panels. None dared look him in the eye.
"Good." The seasoned military physician shoved the laser pistol into a trooper's shocked hands then barked, "Now get back to work." He nodded at the deadman on his floor. "And clean that mess up!"
Staff scurried out of his way, trampling over each other. Two men placed the deceased tech on a gurney as the others hurriedly went back to their routine jobs of monitoring the medical instruments.
Dr. Wintlock made his way over to the center Bacta tank as his student physician weaved out of the flood of officers to fall into synch with his steps.
"Was that necessary?" Dr. Yeals asked blandly.
Wintlock shifted his eyes to the much younger man. No one else would have dared to confront him with such an inquiry… but Dr. Sander Yeals was a reputable medical academy graduate… one with high honors and top-notch brain for medicine. That and he was Wintlock's most favored protege. A stark-featured fellow with a thick-brow almost to the point of an unibrow and a firm square jaw on an otherwise thin face, Dr. Yeals had an unwavering character, a steady surgeon's hand, and an impeccable record.
In the old days of the Galactic Empire, resident physicians—or doctors in training—would enter strictly run residency programs to embark on a stark set of educational milestones generated by the Galactic Imperial Medical Academy Education Committee. Drudging through countless hours of no sleep and thousands of patients, the residents would work themselves into the ground to achieve Medical Academy Education Certificates, entitling them to work anywhere within the Empire. The entire process produced a generation of flawless medical professionals with impeccable skills.
Granted the older imperial residency programs distorted medical ethics as a derivative of imperial social structure or a stepping stone on which scientific advancements stomped. Thus some students took advantage of the downplayed ethics, specializing in medical torture and experimentation. Those careers paid well and afforded them commendable standing with the Sith class. Often Sith would choose them as their physicians seeing a raw cruelty as a trait of sheer intelligence.
But the times had drastically changed. The First Order couldn't afford to fund residency programs… gleaning what financial reserves it had into military exploits or building the original Starkiller. Such luxuries and medical specialties were put aside. So instead of laboring through structured residency programs, graduating physicians like Yeals, fought for the extraordinarily rare apprentice positions under the tutelage of first-rate attending physicians, such as Dr. Wintlock.
In fact, the spot as his apprentice was a highly sought after position, guaranteeing any younger doctor a first-rate education with the third-highest-ranking physician in the First Order, relatively amiable working hours, and most importantly…a chance to impress General Hux.
Dr. Yeals scored within the top first percentile in the organization, thus earning the spot without question. Granted, he was offered the position with Dr. De'iorleng— Snoke's personal physician—but Yeals turned it down, claiming the legendary doctor had the personality of a drone. Behind closed doors, Yeals admitted that Wintlock had been his role model since before medical school and he had always aspired to work with him. The man was fiercely loyal to his preceptor… and outside of the princess, the general, and Lord Ren, Yeals was the only one that the seasoned physician allowed to speak any scrupulous words.
Dr. Wintlock gave the young man a sidelong glance then returned his attention to the unconscious general in the Bacta tank before them. "Everything is necessary when protecting the structure of the First Order," he said after a moment, "Nothing else matters, not even life."
"A dualistic-ethics…" Yeals commented then snagged a cup of thick caffeinated beverage from a nearby console where he had left it earlier. "Mentally, I understand it quite succinctly. Socially…?"
He threw back a drink of the thick black sludge then wiped the caffeinated ooze from his upper lip with the dorsum of his hand. "I… believe the staff might someday revolt."
Wintlock surveyed the unconscious general's form floating in the bacta gelatinous liquid. "Perhaps," he half-admitted, and half-blew off the younger man's concern.
He changed the subject, pimping his apprentice, "Can a patient with a collapsed lung be placed in a bacta tank?"
"No," Yeals answered without hesitation, "The pressure of the respirator would alter the barometric pressure in the patient's good lung, thus diminishing the patient's overall tidal volume and the patient would suffocate."
"Correct."
"His vital signs were abnormal." Yeals returned to forbidden territory, "almost inhuman."
"Wouldn't that be expected in a case of apparent hemorrhagic shock?"
"No," Yeals pushed aside the bait, "Human vitals references remain within expected parameters even too death. Not only was his degree of tachycardia impossible to sustain by a human heart, his cardiac sounds were auscultated on the opposite side."
"Dextroardia," Wintlock replied, then added, "Situs inverus is a normal variant in humans."
"Not when combined with a sustained heart rate of 324 without physiological breakdown or cerebral stroke. In addition, he did have a tension pneumothorax which healed almost impossibly once he was stabilized," Yeals countered then spoke plainly, "How did he manage to hide this so long? His genetical abnormalities are unlike anything I have ever seen…"
He added further for clarification of his meaning, "Even in any of the species within the known First Order dominion or even within the New Republic. Not even the Chiss has that high of a heart rate, and they were exceptional for humanoid beings." He shook his closely shaved head, "And his body temperature? He should be bursting aneurysms."
"He never was sick," Wintlock conceded to the younger physician's original question, careful to make sure the other staff were out of hearing range.
The dull beeping of medical equipment drowned out his words perfectly. He continued, "Not a bruise. Not a common cold. Not a broken bone until now."
"But how did he evade it during the annual routine military processing checks?"
"He doesn't even know about his… condition. He never attempted to evade physicals." Wintlock observed the rapidly healing young man floating in bacta goo. "Careful medical planning by those that value his standing in the First Order prevented any…" He searched carefully for the appropriate statement, "…any privacy violations."
"If he doesn't even know—"
"We have orders to keep it that way."
"To keep the General in ignorance of his own… medical anomalies?" Yeals's monobrow shot to his dark hairline.
"Anomalies?" Wintlock finally pivoted to look at him directly, "If both his parents are humans without such anomalies then how did he come by them? And thus why would it be important for him to remain ignorant of such facts?"
Realization dawned on the younger doctor's face. "Good Imperial edicts! Impossible."
"Correct," Wintlock turned back to his patient, "And let's make sure it stays that way."
"You have my word," Yeals promised with a strong salute, "This is a secret I will take to my grave."
"It just might be," Wintlock explained, eyes forward on the general's vital signs, "And it would not be me that enforces it, but the Grand Admiral himself."
Yeals swallowed then nodded, "Dually noted."
Wintlock exhaled, "I am old, Dr. Yeals. I most likely will not be able to follow this young general's case throughout the remainder of his life." He gave his protege a direct and penetrating look, "he will need a physician, loyal to the First Order, and more than capable to attend to him in the future. I will recommend that you take over his care when I retire."
"Yes, sir," Yeals saluted him, "Without fail."
"It will also be your deepest secret that may carry on if he fathers children." Wintlock's expression softened, "The general has been like a son to me… His welfare is not only of the utmost importance to the First Order but to me as well. Do you understand, doctor?"
"Perfectly. It will be my honor, sir."
***I really haven't had much time for editing lately and I had written a different chapter to go before this one, but I wasn't fond of it so I had to start over and I wrote this one instead. There will be more coming soon... Please review. Thank you for reading.****