Heyo! I'm sorry it took so long to write this chapter.
CW: There isn't a lot of blood in this chapter, but some of the surgery scenes are a bit intense (relative to what I usually write). Read at your own risk.
That said, Happy Thanksgiving, and I hope you guys enjoy the chapter.
(ISD Chimerea)
Darth Vader had not lost his commanding presence. That much was clear. Even as a one-meter tall hologram, he was still imposing. His voice cut through the space like a knife. The blue tint of his figure did little to prevent him from sucking the light out of the room while his unmoving body radiated defiance and resolve. Admiral Thrawn noted with a humorless smirk that he was the physical embodiment of everything the Rebel Alliance and Imperial military valued most. He spoke with conviction and certainty. His voice was firm and steady, while his uniform was jet black without a single button, strap, or piece of fabric out of place.
Flanking him in the frame were two other men. To his left was Admiral Piett. The man did not have the luxury of bulky armor and a mask to hide his expressions. What he did have was years of Imperial officer training and time as Vader's second in command. The two worked in his favor as he stood there. His jaw was set and eyes forward. Every piece of his uniform was as it should be and polished as required. In his service medals, Admiral Thrawn could make out the reflection of the holo recorder. In Admiral Piett's face, Thrawn saw a fixed stare and set jaw. The man expressed nothing but showed everything in his eyes. Buried under layers of military decorum, the particularly observant, like Thrawn, could make out the fire simmering below the surface.
To the right was Commander Appo. He stood tall and proud in his white armor. Stripes of blue streaked down his arms and torso before disappearing down his legs and off the frame. He wore an expression much like Admiral Piett's. His jaw was set and eyes forward. He stood at almost perfect attention with his hands pinned to the seams of his thigh plates. However, there was not just a fire in his eyes. No, there was hatred. It was pure and unbridled hatred. Inside this stormtrooper -the
stormtrooper- there was only murder left. It was betrayed in a twitch of his hand and the way his eyebrows set. The scar running down across his face only served to accent the expression. The battered and scored paint of his armor told the story of his Imperial service just as plainly as the medals on Admiral Piett's chest. He had done his duty to the Empire, but it came at a price. Now he was here to collect on it.
"...To those who seek peace, where is your peace? The Imperial fleet is scattered far and wide, crushing imaginary dissent and waging pointless wars. To those who wanted to conquer the stars, where is your Empire?" Vader Demanded, "Your sons and daughters have not died for the betterment of the Empire. They have died for the ego of a madman and the corruption he enabled. Emperor Palpatine claims authority over the far reaches of the galaxy. He claims to offer protection in a lawless universe. Yet, criminal bands gain strength every day. They accept the bribes of mere criminals and flee from the enemies that wish to do real harm. Even now, the true reach of Imperial authority grows smaller..."
Admiral Thrawn listened to the message, unconcerned by the growing crowd around him. By now, the entire bridge of the Chimera had come to a halt. Officers and enlisted people all stopped to hear the words being spoken. No one said a word, and their expressions said nothing. Instead, it was their silence that spoke volumes. Screens were ignored, and messages were left unanswered as Darth Vader's voice boomed out through the holotable speakers. Rebel propaganda was nothing new, and any person loyal enough to be on the bridge of a Star Destroyer was loyal enough to ignore it. However, this was different. Darth Vader was offering something entirely different.
"...To those still listening, I have not come to destroy the Empire. I have come to rebuild it. I have come to heal the wounds of the past and fulfill the promises abandoned by your so-called Emperor. Bring your weapons and your people. Join me, and together we can end this madness. We will wield the true strength of this Empire, destroy this decrepit monster, and fulfill our true destiny. Buried in the code of this message, you will find rendezvous coordinates. Whether friend or foe, join us there. There we might discuss the future and your place in it."
Darth Vader's voice fell silent. A second later, the trio winked out of existence. It was replaced by the deafening silence of the Chimera's bridge officers and the sudden onset of existential dread. Admiral Thrawn shook his head. He could plainly see the bait in Vader's final sentence. It was disgustingly obvious, but that was the point. Darth Vader had a whole navy at his back. There was no Imperial battle group in existence that could pose a threat to him, and he knew it. Of course, that wouldn't stop some from trying.
"And every ship that tries now is a ship that won't oppose you later," Admiral Thrawn muttered.
"Shall I destroy the recording?"
Admiral Thrawn blinked at the sound of another voice. He turned to see the Chimera's captain looking at him expectantly. His head spun, the words of the dark lord echoing in his brain. In a flash, multiple scenarios streaked through his mind. He pictured the ringworld and the Emperor. He remembered the politics of the Moffs; the blind fanaticism of the ISB; the rebels; and their newfound allies.
"I believe that a grave mistake was made in recording this message. However, I cannot be sure. Destroy every one of the copies beamed to the ship, except for two. Send one to Agent Miro and one to my quarters," Admiral Thrawn ordered.
"But why? What could that message possibly contain?" the captain balked.
"Coordinates, for one."
"Coordinates for an obvious trap."
Admiral Thrawn offered a wry smile. He was good.
"Perhaps, but knowing the location of the rebel fleet is still useful. Also, Vader expressed wanting to rebuild the Empire, something the rebels would not like. Perhaps, this fleet is far more vulnerable than originally thought," Admiral Thrawn added.
Admiral Thrawn tapped a few keys on the holoboard. The panel chirped as a new image appeared above the board. It was a small, roughly rectangular object that flared out toward the top. Along the edges, blue lines pulsed up and down the metallic piece.
Admiral Thrawn stared at the object, silently considering their next mission. Upon docking at Kuat Drive Yards, it had only taken a couple of hours to find out why he had been retasked. Something far more dangerous than Darth Vader had appeared.
"What is that?" quizzed the captain.
"That would be our next objective, Captain," Thrawn answered gravely.
The captain nodded in understanding. As the seconds passed, he began to shift uneasily.
"Admiral, if I may, is this another weapon?" he asked.
"It is."
In the strictest sense, Halo was more of a prison than a weapon. However, such distinctions were hardly relevant at the moment.
"One that must be given over to the Emperor?" the Captain pressed.
Thrawn knew of the man's deep-seated hatred for the Death Star project. He would never admit it, but that was one of the things that had caused Thrawn to promote the man. If he could see the flaw in a planet-killing space station, then he might make a decent officer.
"Let us deal with the Flood first. Then, we can discuss the future of this object," Thrawn decided.
"Yes, Admiral."
(UNSC Infinity: High Orbit Around Rothana)
The med bay was a cold and contentious place on the best of days. However, the sheer weight of personalities in the room today was almost enough to make it unbearable. The ship's medical staff had formed a very uneasy and fragile truce with Dr. Halsey. Admiral Hood was pacing on and off the deck like an anxious animal while Admiral Piett and Luke had posted themselves against the sidewall. To make the scene complete, Darth Vader lay on a hospital bed. After several failed attempts to sedate him, the man's patience was wearing notably thin.
Admiral Piett and Luke stood silently as they waited for the procedure to start. However, there was no missing the looks that passed between them. Luke constantly looked as though he had gotten caught with his hand in a candy jar, while Piett had to resist the instinctual urge to shoot the kid.
"I never expected it to end up this way," Piett finally admitted.
"What do you mean?"
Admiral Piett smirked. There was the look again.
"I always thought you'd die with his lightsaber through your chest, or if I was lucky, I might get to shoot you."
Luke shrugged, "These are strange times."
"Indeed."
There was a moment of silence. In the distance, corpsmen and doctors alike traded hushed words while others shuffled around medical equipment. One such person disappeared behind the curtain with a needle. Admiral Piett shook his head slowly. This wasn't going to-
The needle, as well as a medical cart, smashed to the floor. A startled squeak drifted out as the corpsman lifted off the floor.
"Enough with the needles!" Vader roared, "Either do the operation or let me go!"
Luke sprung forward with his lightsaber in hand. Piett caught him by the shoulder and spun him around. As he did, the admiral gestured to Dr. Halsey. She was marching across the room with Leia in tow.
"Vader, release him," Leia barked.
Her voice cracked through the room like a whip. It was immediately followed by the quieter but equally commanding voice of the doctor.
"We can't do the operation until you are under. Pain notwithstanding, your heart and breathing rates are both too high. With your current vitals, I can promise that you'll die on the table," Dr. Halsey explained.
The corpsman dropped to the floor gasping and coughing. Admiral Piett failed to suppress a smirk as he retreated from the bed. As much as things changed with Darth Vader, they always seemed to stay the same.
"I've endured pain before, and I'll endure it now. Find another way," he ordered.
"There is no other way."
"I'm sure you'll find it."
Dr. Halsey muttered something that neither person could hear and then left. The corpsman gathered his tools while Leia broke off and walked toward the duo.
"Come to watch the show, Princess?" Admiral Piett asked.
His voice was harsh, with little attempt made to hide his contempt for the woman. In his mind, she was everything he hated about the rebellion. She was slimy and pretentious. She wielded her minimal power like a club and held little regard for authority.
"No, I came aboard for a logistical meeting with Admiral Hood. I decided to check on someone I care about in the process," she shifted her gaze to Luke, "How are you holding up?"
"I'm ok," he answered with a shrug.
His eyes were locked on the curtained-off space that contained his father. His hands twitched, and there was no missing the sweat on his forehead. Leia responded by pulling him into a tight hug. As she rested her head on his shoulder, she leaned close to his ear.
"I know about your father," she whispered.
Piett whipped around, not quite sure what he had heard. Luke gasped, and his eyes went wide with fear. Both men relaxed when they saw the look on Leia's face. She wasn't exactly smiling. However, there was no anger or ill intent either. Luke thought he saw traces of sympathy instead.
"Oh… I-um…"
"We'll talk later," Leia decided.
She turned and marched out of the room without saying a word.
"Do you care to share with the rest of us?" Admiral Piett demanded.
"No. Not this and definitely not now."
"I see."
Darth Vader laid flat on the operating table. He knew before the first needle entered his shoulder that he would not be so lucky. His body would not allow him to sleep. In the best of times, pain killers and sedatives had only ever taken the edge off of his pain. With the added weight of the Darkside and his own suspicions, he would find no relief here.
In the distance, he could hear Admiral Piett and Luke talking. It was benign and of little importance. A few outer rim stories were swapped to pass the time. However, most of it was spent in uneasy silence. Further out, he could hear Dr. Halsey speaking to another doctor.
"We've given him more than the maximum dosage. His heart rate and breathing have begun to slow. However, it won't stay that way. As soon as we begin to peel away that suit…."
"He's going to be a writhing and screaming mess. I know," Dr. Halsey concluded.
"Precisely."
"Localized nerve blocks?"
"Dr. Halsey, we're not pulling an ingrown toenail. We're disassembling and reassembling his body," balked the second doctor.
There was a moment of silence. Darth Vader closed his eyes and took deep, measured breaths. There was no running or hiding from what was about to happen. Experience told him that much. Getting through this operation would be just as much of a mental/emotional fight as it would be a physical fight. It was also a fight he had overcome several times before.
Intellectually, Darth Vader knew this, but deep down, the fear began to stir. There were a million possible outcomes, but only one of them was acceptable. His heart skipped a beat. He thought of his missing limbs. The pain at their ends began to intensify. What was left of Vader's skin began to burn with phantom pain. The Sith Lord began to squirm. His breathing began to shallow again.
"Remember your training," echoed Obi-Wan's voice.
"Which part?" Vader demanded.
"All of it."
Darth Vader took another breath. This time he reached into the Force to steady his nerves. Vader searched for the sense of control and direction that usually stabilized his mind. He thought of the Emperor finally dying at his hand and reached for the fantasies of Padme rising from the dead. He even thought of a better future, one where he might be able to be an actual father to his son.
Yet, there was nothing to be found. Nothing would materialize, and no visions formed. There was only oppressive and grimy darkness. The galaxy was cold and dying. It was like someone had lit an icy fire within the Force. He thought of himself dying on the table. He thought of the secrets and sins that would die with him, and for the briefest moment, he wanted it. Vader wanted to die. It was the only way for this nightmare to end.
Darth Vader took a deep breath. He abandoned visions and thoughts in favor of emptying his mind. After twenty years, the sensation felt foreign and awkward. Vader let the sound of his own respirator take him away. He pushed away from the voices and mechanical whines. He ignored the distant footsteps. His eyes drifted shut, closing out the hellish red glow of his helmet visor. Minute by minute, his breathing leveled out. The pounding of his heart grew quieter in his ears, and the fog in his brain began to lift.
That's when it hit him. Vader's eyes snapped back open. He felt Admiral Piett walking toward the med bay door and snapped his head over to the side.
"Admiral Piett," he barked.
Admiral Piett spun around.
"Yes, My Lord."
"Come here."
Piett tilted his head slightly but marched forward nonetheless.
"If this fails, you must ask them," Vader commanded.
"Lord Vader?"
Darth Vader grabbed the man's arm, pulling him down. His black eyes bored deep into the man.
"The Flood. If I die, you must ask Hood about 'the Flood,'" Vader ground out.
Admiral Piett's body turned rigid. It was clear that the man was actively avoiding the thoughts associated with such an outcome.
"Yes, Lord Vader."
Admiral Piett pulled away and was instantly replaced by Dr. Halsey. Her cold and matter-of-fact demeanor was a welcome one for Darth Vader. There was no contempt or fear, and she was not in awe of him. He simply existed. That was all.
"Putting you under is not an option. We can give you a local anesthetic and mix something into the oxygen to keep you stable," Dr. Halsey explained.
As she spoke, a line of men and women marched past. They were pushing carts full of gas tanks and tools, while others were carrying more needles. Vader did not fear the needles, though he hated them. The gas tanks made him more curious than anything. It was the five people that came in with large coiled straps that made him twitch.
"Even so, this will hurt a lot. If you're lucky, the pain will be enough to make you pass out. Until it does, your pain will cause you to squirm. You will twist, and you'll swat at the surgeons. These are unacceptable," she paused as a couple of corpsmen started laying out the straps, "I'm sure you understand why these are necessary."
Darth Vader's only response was a hitch in the rhythmic hiss-puff of his suit. The unspoken deal was clear. She would control his body, while he would need to hold in his powers.
A stab of panic rushed through Vader as each strap flew across his body. However, he said and did nothing as his limbs were sinched tight to the bed. Upon completion, the final remaining corpsman offered Vader a satisfied smirk and marched out with everyone else.
Two people returned a minute or two later and rolled him down the passage to another sealed room. He was left alone for a few more minutes. Outside of the door, he could feel two presences. Ahsoka and Luke stood outside the door like unofficial sentries. He could feel them probe each doctor in the Force as they trickled into the room. Further out, he felt Commander Appo and Admiral Piett. Their concern was easy to handle, but their minds were presently focused on other tasks.
"Alright, let's begin," announced Dr. Halsey.
The second doctor nodded.
"Turn on the oxygen mix, standby with the respirator," he ordered, before turning to Vader, "Popping the helmet seals, now."
He leaned over. Like Dr. Halsey, his face and identifiable features were hidden under a surgical mask and scrubs. It was only through voice and force signature that Vader could tell them apart.
His hands froze halfway to Vader's neck. The two locked eyes as unspoken words passed between them.
"Seals popped. Removing the helmet… Provided you don't want to do that too," he announced, glaring at Vader.
"I'm sure was understand each other now, doctor," Vader decided.
The man said nothing as he slipped the helmet off. Vader felt an explosion of pain around his neck. It washed across his face as they peeled off the second layer of the helmet assembly. This was nothing he hadn't felt before. However, it was only the beginning.
πµπ∆∫
Pain. Ahsoka could feel nothing but pain in the Force. It was extreme and all-consuming. However, there was no danger, and so she remained against the wall. She could feel Vader's Force aurora pulsing violently. It exploded out and before being crushed down to almost nothing the next second. Ahsoka felt him reach deep into the Force, followed by a muffled scream.
Ahsoka shook her head. Looking to the side, she could see the color drain from Luke's face. She put a hand on his shoulder.
"I can stay here if you want to leave," she offered.
"No. I want to stay."
His jaw set as he stared at the door. Ahsoka could feel the grim determination.
"Luke, there's no shame in walking away. You have your own burdens to bear just as he has his," Ahsoka said.
"It's not that. It's- It's something else," Luke stammered, "I feel like I need to be here."
Ahsoka felt something stir and frowned. It was a faint ripple, barely comprehensible in the Force. It also wasn't fear, and it wasn't a concern. It was something else. For the first time since arriving, Ahsoka really looked at him. She took in Luke's messy blonde hair and the bags under his eyes. She saw the tension in his muscles and the barely visible slouch in his back.
"When was the last time you slept?" she quizzed.
"Last night, why?"
Luke's answer was flat and matter-of-fact. However, the Force betrayed his inner feelings.
"Sith temples have a way of clinging to people. It's hard to simply move on from such concentrated darkness and evil," she answered.
Luke perked up.
"You've been to a Sith temple?" he asked.
"The last time I saw Vader was at a Sith temple on Malacore V. It was an unpleasant experience," she confirmed.
The invitation hung in the air. Ahsoka silently prayed that Luke would take it, but he remained stubbornly silent.
"Like father, like son," she thought to herself.
"Well, there isn't much to worry about. Vader collected a few trinkets, and I moved rocks," he answered with a shrug.
The older Jedi snickered. She suspected Luke wasn't lying in the strictest sense. However, he was definitely holding back. Ahsoka's thin smile drifted back down to a frown. There it was again. Another ragged scream drifted out into the hall, and the ripple was more obvious. She locked eyes with Luke. He looked at her and immediately turned his eyes away. The next second, he seemed to realize his mistake and looked back at her.
Ahsoka looked at her Chrono and then back to Luke, "It's getting to be lunchtime. Why don't you see what the Infinity has to offer us for food."
"I'm not hungry," Luke argued.
"Yes, but I am, and seeing as I am both older and higher in rank, you get the job of chasing food," Ahsoka countered as she forced a lighthearted smile.
Luke let out a groan and trudged down the passageway. As soon as he was out of sight, her smile dropped. Something wasn't right.
πµπ∆∫
Darth Vader wasn't sure what was worse, the pain ripping through his body or the visions flashing through his mind. His sense of time was gone. He had no concept of how long he had been on the table or what they were doing. When he wasn't burning alive on Mustafar or watching himself get ripped apart in any number of surreal and bloody ways, his vision was reduced to a blur of red and bleach white with fleshy-pink highlights.
He clenched his eyes against the pain. A new source of pain exploded just below his chest. His eyes twitched, and the Force rushed through him. Every impulse in his body screamed at him to push out, blast away the attacker. Instead, he exhaled a deep breath. In it was a strangled scream, barely amplified by his still-destroyed vocal cords. Vader ran out of air and fell silent. His eyelids drifted shut, and his lungs refused to reinflate. The pain had been too much. His body began to shut down as the lack of air constituted an insurmountable hurdle.
"He's coding! Give me the..." called one of the surgeons.
To Vader, the words sounded like a fading whisper, barely audible and incomprehensible in his charred eardrums.
Peace is a lie," Vader moaned, only barely audible.
The heart monitor chirped. He wasn't about to just die. He had come too far and suffered too much for that.
"Wait," ordered Dr. Halsey.
"There is only passion," he ground out.
Darth Vader's eyes snapped open with a yellow fury. His teeth ground against each other as he reached into the Darkside. It rushed through his body, and air slammed back down into his lungs. He began to register the bitter taste of recycled oxygen as the monitor inched its way back up to living pace.
"Son of a bitch…." Dr. Halsey muttered before turning to the other surgeon, "Continue with the operation."
πµπ∆∫
The surgery drug on for hours. Morning gave way to afternoon and evening. People came and went offering a few cursory words and demanding updates in return. Around midnight, Admiral Hood made his way down from his stateroom to the surgery room. There would be no sleep until Vader was off the table. He had become sure of that much.
He came down to find Ahsoka and Admiral Piett. He noted that Luke was missing, but he had also been here for most of the day. So, Admiral Hood thought nothing of it. The pair was silent, and Admiral Hood knew better than to ask anything about the surgery. No one had entered or exited the room in over twelve hours. There would be no update until such a thing happened.
Perhaps it was simple curiosity or a need to fill the oppressive silence. Admiral Hood didn't know. All he knew was that the question had been nipping at the edges of his mind for a while. For the next several minutes, he stood in silence as he mentally drafted his question.
"Why did you join Vader?" Admiral Hood finally quizzed.
Admiral Piett whipped his head around. He stared at the older fleet admiral and tilted his head slightly. Piett had expected a lot of different questions right now, but that wasn't one of them.
"From what I can tell, you had quite the bright future in the Imperial military," Hood added.
Admiral Piett offered him a scowl.
"Yes, a bright and pointless future," he answered curtly, "I spent my childhood in one of the many Clone War-era refugee camps. When the Emperor made promises of peace and security within the Empire, they meant something to me."
A cold and humorless smile appeared on Piett's face.
"To the Emperor, promises of peace and prosperity were nothing more than words of convenience. It was always Darth Vader that made good on those promises. The few times we were forced to work with the more… shall we say… 'distasteful' parts of society, it was only temporary," Piett concluded.
Admiral Hood nodded in understanding. He had seen how Vader led his fleet and the contempt with which he regarded the societal rejects and criminals that made up the Alliance's rank and file. He had no doubt about what Piett was saying.
"What about that doctor you have down on the surface? She doesn't strike me as a 'tasteful' person," Hood quizzed.
"She was one of the original conspiracy members, as far as I know. Her technical skills gave Vader his cache of droids and other material," Piett answered diplomatically, "It has been a mutually beneficial relationship."
"And when the relationship is no longer 'mutually beneficial?"
"Lord Vader never makes the same mistake twice."
Admiral Hood regarded the man with equal parts disgust and curiosity. What kind of game were those two playing?
"What was the first mistake?"
"The first? Trusting a smuggler with a hobby of parting out combat droids for profit."
"The second?"
"Shoving Aphra out of an airlock when she betrayed him to the Emperor," Piett added sourly.
"There's no reason to let her live if she's going to work for the enemy," he reasoned.
"That's the problem. Dr. Aphra survived."
"I see."
Admiral Hood let out a small sigh. He understood about as much as he did thirty seconds ago. Vader and his second seemed to hold extreme contempt for the corruption and crime that came with this type of conspiracy. Yet, they seemed intent on working and even developing close professional relationships with those people.
"And what happens when this is over?" Hood quizzed.
"Nothing that the UNSC needs to concern itself with," Admiral Piett answered.
His voice was even and emotionless, something that made Admiral Hood's skin crawl. He knew that tone and those words. Someone was going to die. Ahsoka seemed to come to the same conclusion, as he could see her eyes boring into the back of Piett's head.
The surgery room door opened with an excessive loudness. Dr. Halsey marched out, leading a line of surgeons and corpsmen behind her. No one was quite able to hide their anxiety or exhaustion as they stepped out. Sweat shimmered on their faces. Dr. Halsey's one good arm hung limply at her side while everyone tried and failed to hide the sluggishness in their steps. Admiral Piett and Ahsoka opened their mouths at the same time.
"How is he?" she demanded, being slightly faster than the admiral.
"At the moment, he's alive. However, it will be impossible to determine his long-term health for a few days," Halsey explained, shifting her eyes between the three people, "The surgery was extremely traumatic for Vader, both physically and mentally. He will need time to recover. We also don't know yet if his body will accept all of the cloned organs."
"What happens next?" Admiral Piett asked.
"He will rest for now. Over the next few days, we will complete a series of follow-up procedures. After that, he gets to begin the long and hard road to recovery," Dr. Halsey answered matter-of-factly.
"I see."
Admiral Piett resisted the urge to blurt out a string of extra questions. He desperately wanted to know what 'long and hard' exactly meant for Vader, what Vader could do, and when he could do it. However, he seriously doubted Dr. Halsey knew or would give him that information.
"Everything will be drawn up in a report," she announced.
"And sent to all of us?" Ahsoka cut in.
"The Home One, Executor, and Infinity will all receive copies as soon as possible."
Dr. Halsey's voice was firm and direct. She was far too tired to deal with the politics tonight.
"Understood. Is there anything further?" Admiral Piett asked.
"No."
Taking their queues, Ahsoka and Piett turned for the exit, each with their own list of tasks standing between them and sleep. Admiral Hood stood back with Dr. Halsey. They may have been content to wait for the report, but he wasn't. As soon as the door snapped shut, he turned back to the doctor.
"What can I expect from him?" Admiral Hood quizzed.
"It's hard to say. If everything takes as it should, Vader will simply need to re-learn how to function with biological limbs," Dr. Halsey's voice chilled as she glanced back at Vader's room, "That is a considerable hurdle to overcome. However, based on what I witnessed in there, anything is possible."
"What happened?"
"I'll leave the surgical recording on your desk. Suffice it to say, he is the first human I've seen will himself back to life," she warned.
Admiral Hood blinked, caught somewhere between disbelief and amusement. It wasn't every day that something broke Halsey's mask of control.
"Back to life?"
"I'll have Roland timestamp the recording. He coded three times, and each one of those times, he came back on his own," Halsey explained.
Silence fell between the two. Admiral Hood stared into Dr. Halsey's eyes. He was looking for any sign of doubt or humor behind her cold eyes. He was no doctor, but he was sure that what she was suggesting was impossible.
"'Coding' doesn't mean 'dead,'" Hood half-heartedly offered.
"Not just coded. At least twice, Vader was completely gone. There were no vitals and zero response to stimulation and resuscitation attempts," Halsey argued.
"I see."
A look of concern worked its way onto Admiral Hood's face.
"As I said, I'll send a copy of my report and give you the surgical recording," Dr. Halsey concluded.
Her voice was grave as she spoke. She let out a sigh followed by a nod from the admiral. They were both tired, and it was beginning to show. Admiral Hood walked away, leaving Halsey alone in the passageway. There was so much more she wanted to say and show him. However, her mind was a racing mess of ideas and thoughts. It was definitely best to just condense it all down to a paper. First, she needed coffee. Then, she could start writing, and somewhere in there, she would consider sleeping.