Summary:
An accident reveals an old deception, and Darth Vader must make a decision that will change not only his life.
Force of Destiny - Chapter 3
Piett ran his hands over his face. Suddenly, he felt very tired. "Does it matter?" he asked. "Lord Vader will go berserk when he hears about those implants."
"He certainly will, my friend", Veers nodded gravely, "he certainly will." He patted Piett's shoulder. "It's been a long day. Don't know about you, but I could use a stiff drink."
"Not yet. I have to give the techs the go-ahead to take the TIE apart first. Garin wanted to start right away", Piett replied and started walking towards the hangar. Veers frowned and followed him.
"Do you think that's wise? I know he saved Lord Vader, but his team also prepared the fighter."
Piett smiled thinly. "That's why I read their conduct reports and had a scanning crew check out the fighter first. I did more than just pace on the bridge, my friend."
Veers chuckled. "You're always a step ahead, Tomas. Been taking lessons from Lord Vader again, have you?"
The other man shrugged. "Well, you have to when you work for him. He does not take incompetence lightly." He sighed. "Anyway, the scan came up negative. No sign of explosives."
"That's still no proof that the ship hasn't been tampered with."
"No, it's not. But the conduct reports look alright, too. A few minor points, but nothing serious. Not too clean, either."
"A perfect report would be a bad thing?" Veers raised his eyebrows.
"Naturally", Piett nodded. "Only a man who has too much to lose would take care to keep his record perfect. A spy, perhaps, or a rebel agent." He waved his hand dismissively.
Veers shook his head, slightly amused. "If you ever decide to leave the fleet, you could start a career with imperial intelligence."
His friend grimaced. "Never. I hate this backstabbing spy business."
"Then why do you know so much about it?" Veers asked.
"I guess it falls under the header of 'know thine enemy'", Piett replied.
Veers' curiosity was piqued. "Tell me, then", he inquired, "how many rebel spies do we have on board?"
Piett laughed at that. "Surprisingly, none. But we do have a number of II agents."
Veers stopped dead in his tracks. "You're kidding! Our own people are spying on us?"
Piett snorted. "I would hardly call them our own people. And yes, we are under constant surveillance. After all, this ship is the largest ever built, and until the new Death Star is operational, it is also the most powerful weapon the Empire has."
"But that means..." Veers shook his head.
"... that the Emperor will know about the accident soon, if he doesn't already", Piett finished the sentence for him. He turned to his friend and regarded him with a grim look in his eyes. "Trust no-one, my friend. We're heading for dangerous times, and your prowess on the battle field will not help you in this fight."
In the main hangar, Staff Sergeant Torb Garin and his team of four snapped to attention as the doors opened and the two highest ranking officers entered.
"Sir!" he bellowed.
Piett waved his hand. "At ease", he ordered. The team assumed the formal at-ease posture.
"Gentlemen, I want you to take this ship apart until you've found the reason for the failure. Use any means you deem necessary. You will report to me personally. Furthermore, you are free from all other duties until further notice."
"Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir!"
"Well, what are you waiting for? Get to it!"
"Sir, if I may", Garin began, clearly insecure.
"Yes, Sergeant?" Piett regarded him curiously. What now?
"I... uh... I mean, my men and I were wondering about Lord Vader. Is he going to be alright, Sir?"
Piett's expression softened somewhat. "Thanks to you and your team, Sergeant, he will be. And he will be most displeased if you don't have some answers for him by the time he is up and about again", he said.
A broad grin appeared on Garin's face. "Sir, yes, Sir!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs. "You heard the admiral, boys, let's get this show on the road! Zev, you take the flight recorder. I want the data in that thing secured and I want it now! Jay, Kenny, you start on her solar panels. Avery, you'll assist me."
The team scrambled to follow their sergeants' orders.
Piett was up earlier than usual the next morning. He had the distinct feeling that Dr. Hanley would not wait for his and Veers' presence before breaking the truth to Lord Vader, and Force only knew how Vader would react. No, that wasn't true; Piett and Veers both had a pretty good idea of what Lord Vader's reaction would be. The term 'blind rage' came to mind, as well as 'mindless violence'. Not that he could blame the man; he had every right to be upset. For the thousandth time Piett wondered why he wanted to be present at all. Of course, he did not want to lose his CMO. Hanley certainly had no idea what Vader was capable of.
Sighing, Piett palmed open the door to Veers' quarters. The general was just pulling his boots on, uniform impeccable as ever, hair still slightly damp from the shower.
"You're up early, Tomas", Veers greeted him. "Thought I would have to wake you."
"Not everybody is such an early bird like you, Max. But I can manage getting up in the middle of the night if I have to", Piett grumbled. "Come on, I don't want to be late."
Darth Vader gradually came back to awareness. First he felt the throbbing pain in the left side of his skull, then the aches and pains all over his upper body. He could hear the soft clicks, beeps and whirrs of medical equipment nearby. Strange that he had never noticed all those sounds in his quarters before. He slowly opened his eyes. These were not his quarters at all.
I must be in sickbay, he mused. How under the stars did I end up here?
Pushing himself up on his elbows, he looked around. Getting out of bed was out of the question, since he was hooked up to a stationery life support system. A small oxygen mask covered the lower part of his face, and what seemed like a myriad of wires ran from his body to various monitors surrounding the bed. But there had to be a medic or at least a droid around!
"You're awake!"
Vader turned his head in the direction of the strange voice. "Obviously", he stated. "And who are you?"
"Forgive me. I am Dr. Parker Hanley, Chief Medical Officer", Hanley introduced himself. "And how are we feeling this morning, Lord Vader?"
Vader rolled his eyes. Why did medical personnel always include themselves when inquiring about a patient's well being?
"I feel fine, except for a headache", he finally said. "And you are extremely pleased with yourself, although you did not get much sleep last night and your left knee is giving you trouble", he added in a dry voice.
"What?" Hanley was dumbfounded. How could Vader know? He shook his head. "Never mind. I'd like to run a few tests, if you don't mind."
"In fact, I do." Vader sat up in bed, ignoring the wave of dizziness that hit him. He must not show any weakness, or this quack might decide to keep him in sickbay for Force only knew how long, a thought Vader did not relish. "I would rather return to my quarters. Where is my suit?"
"I'm afraid we had to cut it off you." Hanley adjusted the head of the bed and fluffed up the pillows so Vader could lean back comfortably.
"Understandable", Vader nodded. "I have spares in my quarters. Have one brought here."
"After I've examined you, Mylord. And only if I'm satisfied with the results."
Vader glared at him; how dare he? "You are trying my patience, Doctor", he rumbled.
"Really?" Hanley asked lightly and held up two fingers. "How many fingers?"
"Two. Are you satisfied now?"
"Very good. What is the last thing you remember?"
"I... " Vader was taken aback by the question. Force be damned, what had happened? His head was still pounding, making it hard to concentrate. "I was on the bridge", he recounted, "Piett reported to me that the new TIE Avengers had arrived. I went to the hangar and took one out for a test flight. She flies like a dream. And then... then... I don't know. Something must have happened, but I can't remember." He whispered the last words. His inability to recall the event that brought him to sickbay bothered him more than he wanted to admit.
"It's alright", Hanley said, patting his shoulder. Vader gave him a warning glance that was completely lost on Hanley. "There was an accident. One of the engines exploded. You were lucky, though. You only suffered a mild concussion and a number of bruises. Your recollection of the last minutes before the explosion may return later, or never. But I would not worry about it too much."
"So, can I go?" Vader inquired. After I have my mobile life support back, he added silently.
"I would prefer if you stayed and rested for a while. A day or two, perhaps. But I can certainly take you off the monitors now", Hanley answered and reached for the oxygen mask. Vader nearly bolted from the bed.
"What do you think you're doing?" the Dark Lord shouted, grabbing Hanley's arm to stop him when another wave of dizziness hit him. He groaned, shaking his head to clear his suddenly fuzzy brain.
"Easy, Lord Vader. Told you you'd better stay and rest." Gently, but firmly Hanley pressed him back into the pillows.
"You don't understand. I can't..." Vader began, but Hanley interrupted him: "Yes, you can."
He calmly removed the oxygen mask and switched off the monitors while the Sithlord was still too shaken to resist.
"No... you don't understand", Vader moaned, "I cannot brea..." He stopped short as realization hit him. Inhaling deeply, he put a hand on his chest. "I can breathe", he whispered. "I can't believe it! How is that possible?"
The emotions that ran through him clearly showed on his face; joy, happiness, fear that this would not last.
"Relax", Hanley told him. "I will explain everything to you, but I want you to stay calm. You're still healing."
Vader nodded, his mind numb from the thousand questions that ran through it simultaneously.
"My lungs...", he began.
"...are perfectly alright. Always were, in fact", Hanley interrupted him again.
"But I was told I would never be able to breathe without a respirator again. That I would be dependent on artificial life support for the rest of my natural life", Darth Vader choked out.
Hanley seated himself on the edge of the bed, laying a hand on Vader's forearm. The man was clearly in shock from this sudden revelation. Dr. Hanley knew he had to take this slowly, one step at the time.
"Tell me, did you inhale any noxious fumes at the time you broke your neck?" he asked.
Vader nodded slowly. "Yes", he said. "I fell into an active volcanic crater. The smoke was highly caustic and burned my lungs."
"I see. But still, your lungs were not the problem. I only found minimal scarring of the alveoles when I examined you. You didn't inhale enough of the smoke to do much damage, probably due to the broken neck. Certainly not enough to significantly reduce your lung capacity. No, the problem always was in your nervous system."
Vader frowned. "But that was repaired. I regained full mobility right after surgery." He looked up at Hanley. "And the doctors told me my lungs were burned badly", he added.
Veers and Piett opened the door to the ICU just in time to hear Vader say: "And the doctors told me my lungs were burned badly."
"Lord Vader", Piett greeted his superior with a bow, "I am glad you are feeling better."
Vader turned his head to face them, slightly irritated at the interruption. "Admiral Piett, General Veers. What are you doing here?"
"You gave us cause for concern, Mylord", Veers answered smoothly. "You nearly died in that accident yesterday, and it is certainly good to see that you are recovering."
Vader felt strangely touched by Veers' words. "Thank you, General." He turned his full attention back to Dr. Hanley. "You still owe me an explanation."
Hanley nodded slowly, not quite sure how he should break the news to his patient. He finally opted for the direct approach; Lord Vader was too intelligent not to figure out the truth eventually, now that he had the first parts of the puzzle. But he was also not a very patient man. Better to get it over with now.
"When I examined you yesterday, I was just as puzzled by your inability to breathe as you are now. I took a closer look at the cybernetic replacements of your vertebrae and nerve roots, and found these." He reached into his pocket and produced a small plastic container which he pressed into Vader's hand. The Dark Lord held it up and looked at it, noticing the tiny electronic devices inside.
"What are these?" he inquired. "They look like transmitters, but I've never seen that particular design before."
"They are transmitters, Mylord. Interference transmitters which blocked the nerve impulses to your heart and lungs. I surgically removed them. You have been breathing on your own ever since."
Vader froze. This could not be possible. This would mean... no, no, he could not believe that!
"No...", he whispered, his voice rough. His hands started to shake. "That's impossible. You must be wrong. There must be another explanation." He was grasping for straws, he knew it, but the alternative would make more than half his life meaningless. And yet, it was true. He knew it.
"Lord Vader, it is the truth. Somebody deliberately implanted you with these devices. I don't know why, but it is the truth."
"I know. Somehow, I've always known."
Vader drew a deep, shuddering breath, trying desperately to keep control of his emotions.
"I would like to be alone for a while", he asked, still in that rough whisper. He didn't dare speak louder for fear he would scream.
Hanley lightly touched his shoulder, and the Dark Lord flinched.
"If you would like a sedative", he offered.
"No. Just leave me alone", Vader choked out. He felt his grip on sanity slip with every passing second.
In this moment, Piett noticed that a tray with instruments on a shelf nearby started to rattle. He pointed it out to Veers, who nodded.
"Come, Doctor. We should really leave Lord Vader alone now", Veers said calmly.
Hanley looked at him as if he had lost his mind. "I don't think so", he replied. Another tray started to rattle, and one of the monitors surrounding the bed wobbled on its stand.
"Frankly, I don't care what you think, Doctor", Piett shot back. "Get out now!" Grabbing the protesting medic by the arm, he hurled him out of the room with Veers' help. No sooner had the door closed behind the three men when the first scream rent the air. It did not sound like anything a human throat could produce, more like the howling of an enraged animal. Something heavy hit the door, leaving a dent in its metal surface.
"What is happening in there?" Hanley shouted. "What is he doing to my sickbay?"
He tried to go back in, but Piett and Veers held him back by both his arms.
"Don't!" Piett commanded. "You wouldn't survive it."
"What are you talking about?" Hanley turned face to Piett, enraged that the man tried to stop him from doing his job. "He needs help, dammit!"
"Right now, you wouldn't be able to reach him before he killed you, Doctor. How do you think that would help him?" Piett shouted back over the noise of more equipment flying around and hitting the walls.
On the Rebel Alliance Cruiser Freedom, Luke Skywalker woke up screaming. "Father!" he cried. He was breathing heavily, realizing that he was in his own cabin, not the sickbay of an Imperial Star Destroyer. Calming himself with difficulty, he tried to recall the details of his vision. He did not even question that is was more than a nightmare; Luke Skywalker knew how nightmares felt, and this had all the markings of a Force vision. Darth Vader... his father!... had been there, in a room that looked like a sickbay. He was in pain, not so much physical as mental and emotional pain. He was confused, and angry, and suffering. He had called out to Luke in agony, and Luke made a decision.
It took more than ten minutes for the noise from the ICU to subside and finally die down completely. The three men waited in silence for another two minutes before Veers spoke up: "You think we can risk it now?"
"Sounds like he's exhausted himself for the moment", Piett replied. "I say we go in." He palmed open the door; it got stuck halfway due to the dent in its surface, but the men were able to squeeze through. They were greeted by eerie silence and total destruction. Not a single unit had remained in its place. The bed had been turned on its side. The floor was littered with debris and shards of broken glass. Even parts of the ceiling had been ripped down, revealing cables and pipes, some of which where broken as well.
"What happened here?" Hanley whispered. He could hardly believe his eyes.
Veers whistled. "Now that's what I call a temper tantrum", he observed.
Piett gave him a dirty look. "This is not funny", he stated.
"Right. Let's go and look for Lord Vader. He must be somewhere in here."
They found him easily enough, behind the overturned bed. Vader was sitting on the floor, knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around his knees, staring straight ahead and shivering violently. Veers dropped to one knee beside him, gently taking his face in both hands.
"Lord Vader, can you hear me?" he asked quietly. Darth Vader raised his head slowly and gazed at Veers out of blue eyes filled with pain.
"I'm cold", he managed through chattering teeth. His voice was hoarse.
"You're in shock. Do you think you can stand up if I help you?"
Vader nodded. Again, his movements were painfully slow. Veers took his arm and pulled him to his feet; the Dark Lord leaned heavily against him, and the General supported most of Vader's weight. Vader looked around him and blinked, for the first time realizing the scene of destruction.
"Did I do that?" he asked he bewilderment. Clearly, he had no recollection of his own actions.
"Don't worry about that. Let's get you someplace warmer." Veers steered the stumbling Lord Vader towards the door, carefully avoiding the broken glass on the floor, when Piett appeared at their side with a blanket which he wrapped around Vader's shoulders.
Dr. Hanley was still somewhere in the ICU, muttering and shaking his head, when the two officers settled Vader on one of the beds in the emergency room.
"I'll try to find a 2-1B unit", Piett announced. "Hanley is not going to be any help now." He left, and soon returned with the same droid that had been assisting Hanley earlier. The droid quickly examined Vader.
"The patient is in shock. I will administer a sedative", the machine said, producing a syringe.
"No", Vader croaked. He was still shivering, although covered with several blankets. "No drugs."
Despite its skull-like metal face, the droid managed to look concerned. "Sir, you have been severely traumatized. You should allow me to sedate you", it urged.
"No!" Vader insisted stubbornly. "I will not be drugged!"
"As you wish."
"How does some hot tea sound, then?" Piett asked softly. Vader looked up at him, surprised by the concern in the admiral's voice.
He nodded. At least he could trust Piett not to drug him into unconsciousness. Veers helped him into a sitting position, and Piett pressed a styrofoam cup into Vader's shaking hands. He had to help Vader raise it to his lips, though.
The tea was hot, almost burning his tongue, and extremely sweet. The Dark Lord almost choked on the first sip, but managed to drink the tea without spilling any. The hot liquid helped to banish the chill from his bones and calm his rattled nerves. He felt his eyelids grow heavy again. Vader tried hard to stay awake, but his violent outburst took his toll on him, and he fell asleep with his head on Veers' shoulder.
Veers gently lowered the sleeping Sith onto the pillows.
"Out like a light", he whispered. "What did you put in that tea?"
"Sugar", Piett replied dryly. "Lots of sugar."
"And?"
With a lopsided grin, Piett produced the empty halves of two small blue capsules from his pocket.
"Remember how I had trouble sleeping a couple months ago, right after Lord Vader promoted me? I knew enough sugar would mask the taste of these."
To be continued