Chapter 4
Veers watched as they snapped out of hyperspace into the Mustafar system. That red and black planet over there was his target and he wondered how far out Vader would have alert systems. Likely already knew they were here, he reflected.
The General glanced over his shoulder to where his friend slept in the passenger hold. He couldn’t see Piett from here and lamented the design of the shuttle. A lamda would have been ideal, but was also easier to track and he had to be prepared for all eventualities.
A shuttle of this type could be sold more easily on the black market, and because Veers was who he was, he’d made several different back up plans to save the man who was like a brother to him.
He would prefer to just let the Captain sleep, but Piett had been vehement that he be conscious to meet with Vader.
So Veers rubbed at his neck and rose stiffly, snagging his duty jacket off the back of the co pilot’s chair and making his way back to the hold.
Despite his best efforts, the flush of fever was on his friend’s cheekbones and his hair curled with the sweat.
A chest infection and Piett were never a good combination.
He knelt and rummaged in the kit on the floor beside Firmus in order to retrieve and administer a pain killer before he woke him up.
Then he placed his hand on the Captain’s shoulder.
“Piett,” he said, shaking him cautiously. His friend groaned and tilted his head away.
“You wanted me to wake you when we arrived,” Veers persevered. He gently pushed the sweatshirt sleeves up and began to unwrap the bacta bandages running up Firmus’s arms.
Piett emitted a long sigh and then opened his eyes, squinting as he turned to look at Veers.
“Already?” he asked.
“You’ve been asleep or unconscious for some time,” Veers informed him, removing the bandage to examine the dark bruising. He couldn’t tell if the bacta had made any significant difference but it was better than nothing.
He rewrapped that brutalized arm and rested it back on Piett’s chest, his friend watching him wearily with fever bright eyes.
“Last chance, Max,” he murmured at last as Veers got to work on the other arm.
“To do what exactly?” he replied, snagging a water bottle and allowing Piett to rest his head on his shoulder so he could drink. It concerned him that the Captain clearly still had very little control over his arms. He could only hope Vader’s medical facilities were able to repair the damaged nerves.
“Just…we could contact some of my old Axxilan connections…”
Veers lowered him carefully back to his pillow and regarded him seriously from his position seated on a supply crate.
“If that is what you want, Firmus, I will do it immediately. But I am willing to go all the way down the line to see my friend restored to his rightful place on the ship that he loves with his soul.”
Piett held his gaze for long beats.
“But if you’re offering that to protect me—-then don’t. Both or none, Captain. Always.”
The other man’s jaw tightened and he looked away, throat working.
“All right then,” Piett replied huskily at length. “Max—” He strained to reach out his right hand and it shook badly with the effort, but Veers took it.
“Forward then," he said.
He retrieved the emergency grav sled and prepped it for his friend with lots of blankets before he lifted Piett onto it, doing his best to work with the bad knee. Once the Captain was secured there, he moved back to the cockpit and took the shuttle forward toward Mustafar.
It grew slowly, filling the viewscreen. He could even see some lightning storms at this point when a mechanised voice came over his comms.
“Imperial shuttle. This is restricted space. Turn back now or be destroyed.”
Veers flicked the control switch.
“This is General Maximilian Veers of Death Squadron. Requesting permission to land and speak with Lord Vader.”
There was a long pause.
“No orders for your presence exist in the system,” the mechanical voice came back. “Depart immediately or be destroyed.”
Retreat was not an option here.
“I am aware this visit is unexpected. I am aware of the potential consequences and I am still requesting a moment to speak with Lord Vader on a matter that concerns him personally.”
Another pause.
Any moment they could be blown to a million little pieces. But then—-that was a risk in this career anyway.
“Landing platform 4. Do not deviate.”
A red lit route flashed onto the small screen on the console.
“Understood.”
Veers breathed out. One step closer. He would at least be heard then.
He guided the shuttle along the path indicated and into the turbulent atmosphere of Mustafar. The little craft shook around them and then cleared the dark clouds to show the lava pulsing and spewing below.
And there.
Rising from the hellish landscape like a finger pointing angrily at the sky, the infamous black fortress loomed.
Veers landed the shuttle as gracefully as he could before he rose and tugged on his cap and gloves.
If this was to be his end, he would meet it with dignity.
He strode back into the hold and tapped the controls for the landing ramp.
Piett gave him a glance and huffed an irritated little noise.
“I wish I could be in uniform for this.”
Veers couldn’t help the slight curl of his mouth. Trust the Captain to be irked by this. Piett liked his naval tidiness. And in many ways, his uniform was a defense. Veers did understand this, but even if he’d had a uniform to give his friend, he was not fit to get into it.
“I’m aware,” he answered, pushing the grav sled ahead of him as they made their way down the ramp. “But you are you, no matter what you wear. I suspect Lord Vader puts more weight on character than on uniform.”
“Hmm.”
They reached the bottom of the platform and Veers expected violent winds and heat. Then he realized that of course, this was protected from the environment by an energy barrier.
Two tech droids were standing on either side of the walkway that led to the fortress itself and Veers addressed himself to one of them.
“Is Lord Vader…?”
But that was as far as he got.
The doors at the far end of the walkway opened and a familiar tall figure strode through, cape billowing behind him as he moved toward the landing pad.
All right.
Veers supposed he shouldn’t be shocked that his Commander was going to speak to them out here. This was Lord Vader’s most private sanctum and he would not just let anyone enter for any reason.
The kish kosh of the breathing mask sounded louder and Veers straightened to attention beside Piett’s grav sled. The Captain could not do the same, but that chin tilted up and he saw Piett’s shoulders square a little on the pillows.
Vader loomed before them and stopped five feet away, hands on his hips as he surveyed them both, that helmet tilting ever so slightly.
“Because you are one of four officers for whom I have any little modicum of respect, General Veers, I have allowed this egregious invasion of my privacy. State your reasons for being here.”
Veers wasn’t as good at hearing tone through the vocoder as Piett was. If Vader was angry, he could not tell.
But he knew his commanding officer well enough to know that Vader had no patience with overly descriptive reports.
“My Lord. In your absence, Admiral Ozzel attempted to have Captain Piett framed for treason and murdered. I intervened and brought him here to you instead.”
A beat.
The heavy fabric of Vader’s cape shifted ever so slightly as he turned his attention to Piett, taking in his very obvious illness and injury.
“You came here seeking mercy from me?” Vader asked, returning his gaze to Veers.
Veers swallowed and remained at attention.
“No, my Lord. I came here for your justice.”
A noncommittal noise issued from the vocoder.
“You risked your life and career for a Captain from the Rim?”
“Yes, my Lord,” Veers answered without hesitation.
Vader moved slowly to the grav sled and reached out to take Piett’s jaw in one black gloved hand, tilting his face a little to see the bruising still evident along his cheekbone.
“Ozzel had this done to you?” he asked.
“No, my Lord,” Piett answered honestly. “This was ISB.”
Vader removed his hand and folded his arms on his chest.
“And what makes you believe I will help in this situation?”
Veers took a breath. This was the moment and Vader was judge, jury, and executioner.
“My Lord, you personally made Piett Captain of the Lady. The Admiral took advantage of your absence to try and remove him. I felt that was your prerogative and yours alone.”
Vader turned and paced away from both of them, his broad shoulders forbidding.
“But the most compelling reason you are here, General Veers,” Vader said, still facing away, “is your loyalty to Captain Piett. Are you willing to die for him?”
A sharp intake of breath came from Firmus, but he immediately pressed his lips together and waited.
“Yes,” Veers said immediately. That was easy. “And while you are of course, correct my Lord, you must also know that our loyalty to you as our Commander is also why we are here.”
“I admit that your faith in me is…unexpected,” Lord Vader said, turning at last. “What do you believe my justice looks like, General?”
“The reinstatement of Piett as Captain,” Veers said without hesitation.
An odd noise came from the vocoder. Piett frowned a little, but Veers didn’t know what it was. On another man it might have been a huff of laughter, but this was Vader, and he did not do such things.
“You have intrigued me, General,” Vader said. “I make no promises. But at the very least, I would hear more from you both. Which means that Piett will need the care of my medical droids. Follow me.”
Veers exchanged a brief glance with Piett and then obeyed, pushing the grav sled ahead of himself in the flowing black wake of the Sith Lord.
**************
Piett hated feeling like a piece of luggage. But he was too sick and injured to be much else. Veers had been magnificent, and they had come this far. Vader was at least willing to listen to them it appeared.
If he had been more himself, Piett would have been curious about his surroundings. As it was, he took in just how quiet the fortress seemed. Perhaps this was due to the massive thickness of the black stone walls. Equally, Vader could be using the Force to keep things this way.
The entry hall here had vaulted ceilings, but unlike much of the architecture Piett was familiar with, these reminded him of nothing so much as a massive magma chamber. Perhaps that was the intent.
Rather than being inspired to look up and appreciate light and beauty working with something man made, the design of this fortress implied a desire to escape. To have the fire released from within, like the landscape around the building.
Or perhaps that was his fevered imagination at work.
“Lord Vader.”
A medical droid had arrived. It was a standard make, but instead of a silver coating, it was white—-a stark contrast to the surroundings. Its two ‘eyes’ were a rather disconcerting blue and Piett noted that its body was more like that of a protocol droid rather than the more sparse figure of typical medical droids.
No surprise—Lord Vader loved to tinker with all things mechanical. Piett was reasonably certain it was the only sort of pleasure his commander actually had.
“This is MD-2,” Lord Vader said, gesturing at it. “He will be in charge of your healing, Captain. Which means you will submit yourself to his orders.”
“I should think so,” MD-2 sniffed.
Piett blinked.
That almost sounded like…
No.
All medical personnel, droid and human alike just had a certain sort of arrogance in tone from Piett’s experience.
“General Veers, you will follow me,” Lord Vader ordered and Max gave him a swift look.
“I’ll see you soon,” Piett told him as MD-2 took the grav sled.
He didn’t know if he would see Veers soon. He had to hope that Vader would not just throttle him out of hand.
What was it Vader had said when they arrived?
Because you are one of four officers for whom I have any little modicum of respect, General Veers, I have allowed this egregious invasion of my privacy.
Firmus would have to hold onto that statement and pray it kept Max alive.
The grav sled moved smoothly through the dim halls of the fortress, lit merely by yellow fixtures on either side. But at last they entered what was clearly a very advanced medical bay—-and here the light was stronger.
“Scans,” MD-2 ordered, and a swarm of orderly droids descended, several with little cutters ready.
“Don’t,” Piett said, struggling to move away. “These are my Imperial Navy sweats. Don’t cut them off.”
“You are badly damaged and it will cause you pain to remove them otherwise,” MD-2 said flatly.
“I can handle it. Don’t cut them,” Piett snapped, feeling hot and exhausted and so done.
The droid actually sighed.
What a very human reaction. And that was interesting for one of Lord Vader’s droids. He had yet to see any human servants here.
“Very well. I can see you have some foolish attachment to these articles of clothing. Because I can do no harm, you will therefore be sedated.”
“Wait—” Piett began and something cool hissed into his neck.
Darkness.
****************
Vader did not say anything further as he walked through the fortress, Veers at his side. The General was reasonably confident that Piett would be fine, because why else would Vader order him to receive medical care if he merely intended to kill him?
His Lordship could be capricious, and Veers had witnessed it personally, but when he killed it was deliberate and obvious as to why he did so.
At length they entered a large room with a wide viewport that permitted an impressive, if not a lovely, overlook of the planet.
A heavy throne composed of basalt sat at the far end of the room on a raised platform. Vader did not sit in it, choosing instead to stand by the viewport and stare at the battling magma and pyroclastic flows below. Veers rather thought it was like sitting at the entrance to hell.
“Tell me everything,” Lord Vader said, his hands clasped behind his back. “And recall that I shall know if you are lying.”
So Veers spoke. He repeated all that he had told Piett and explained his plan as unemotionally as possible. Why he had condemned his friend to appalling suffering at the hands of the ISB. How he had tracked the shuttle to the station. How he had spoken to the Lady.
Vader turned sharply at this.
“What.”
Veers swallowed as the room became distinctly more chilly.
“I…Piett has told me that she is special, my Lord. Because I asked,” he added, lest his Lordship think Piett was betraying a confidence. “I had noticed some things and I asked him about her nature.”
There was a significant pause as Vader regarded him behind that passionless mask.
“And what did he say?” Lord Vader asked him.
“Merely that she was…more than an AI, my Lord,” Veers told him. “I assure you that is all he said. He told me he’d sworn to you not to speak of it and that I should not either.”
“What did you notice, General?” Vader asked him, turning back to the turbulent landscape below them.
Veers considered all the things he’d noted once his friend became Captain. Even some before, if he was honest.
“Piett would often look up when the lights flickered, sir. At first, I just put it down to the fact that naval officers are a bit strange about their ships.”
A small huff came through the vocoder.
“Continue.”
“But…she seemed to have patterns in those flickers, my Lord. And then, on occasion, I witnessed specific colors emitting from light sources that really ought not to be able to do that.”
“Interesting…” Vader murmured. “She has not told me of her methods to communicate with him.”
Told him…?
“My Lord,” Veers began cautiously. “Does she…actually speak to you? With words?”
He held his breath. Perhaps that was too far.
“Not as you are thinking, General,” Vader answered without turning to look at him. “But yes we speak. So. She assisted you.”
“I could not have done it without her, my Lord,” Veers said. “She was able to access…very secure information. It was rather astonishing.”
“I imagine,” Lord Vader answered. “But the fact remains that this entire operation is based upon something Commander Venka overheard and your own deductions from this meeting of the Admiral’s.”
Veers’ stomach tightened, reminding him he hadn’t eaten or drunk in some time. He felt a little nauseated, but maintained his stance.
“I believe that the Lady can confirm my belief, my Lord,” he stated. “As she is indeed…special, I would imagine she has recordings of all that was said and done. And, due respect, sir, you know me. I am not given to flights of fancy or baseless assumptions.”
Vader remained still for long moments. Then he turned to face the General.
“That is true. But this…loyalty between yourself and the Captain, Veers, while considered admirable by some, does not serve the Empire.”
“We are both here, my Lord,” Veers replied, “because we serve you.”
Another strange noise from the vocoder that Veers could not interpret.
“That will be all for now, General,” Vader said. “A droid will show you your rooms and we will speak more tomorrow.”
“Sir, the Captain—-”
Veers was keen to see how his friend fared.
His Lordship waved an impatient hand.
“Ask the droids. You are free to see him.”
And with that he swept out of the room. A small hover droid model entered from a hidden side panel.
“This way, sir,” it said, its little arms indicating that he should follow.
Well, the General thought as he moved through the dim and somewhat oppressive corridors behind the little droid, he had done his best. They were still alive for another day at least. And then the Judge would give his verdict.