Chapter Text
“Are you paying attention?”
Darth Vader looked down at his audience. The doleful eyes of the Executor’s Captain stared back at him.
“The General and the Admiral are delayed on their planetside mission,” said the Sith Lord. “They are safe, but they shall not return until tomorrow morning. Therefore, you shall spend the night in my care.”
Captain blinked and tilted his head to the side. Unfamiliar with canine behavior, Vader did not know how to interpret this gesture.
“I assume this means you understand the situation, Captain?” Vader questioned the Denonian Lowhound.
Captain gave a soft woof, which Vader interpreted as a sign of confirmation.
“Very good.” The Sith Lord knelt down and gave the dog three affectionate pats on the head. “I have had the troopers lay out a bowl of water to quench your thirst and retrieve your belongings from the officer’s quarters. Now, I must do the bidding of our Emperor.”
Captain barked again and lay down, his long ears spread out on the black, marble floor. He wagged his white-tipped tail in what Vader assumed to be contentment. The thudding rhythm of the happy tail echoed through the chamber as the Sith Lord retreated to his workshop.
Throughout the years, Vader’s workshop had hosted many projects, from repairs of his TIE Advanced to the neon red radon lamp he had gifted to Admiral Piett for Empire Day. (The Admiral had stated there was no need for the lamp, but Vader knew Piett was only saying that to be polite.) Today’s task was one of particular importance: the repair of a Sith holocron.
The relic had been located by a group of Stormtroopers who had been panning for gold in the Axxilan drain system. Lord Vader had presented the peculiar find to the Emperor who had described it as “good, good”. The Emperor had not offered any more instructions pertaining to the holocron, but Vader figured that anything that warranted two “good”s was worth investigating further.
The Sith Lord’s work was soon interrupted by the hiss of his chamber door opening, followed by a baleful howl. The Stormtroopers had arrived, carrying three large boxes.
“My lord,” said the first Stormtrooper in the row. “We have retrieved the belongings of the hound known as Captain Piett-Veers.”
Vader watched as the other Stormtroopers began to unpack the boxes. Soon, the Sith Lord’s chambers were filled with brightly colored tennis balls and ragged squeaky toys. The hound lumbered over and grabbed one of a chew toy in the image of a Rebel X-Wing pilot. Vader nodded approvingly as Captain shook the toy vigorously, causing the plush Rebel’s hand to fall off.
“He has many belongings,” Vader observed. “Have you retrieved all of them?”
“Yes, my lord,” the Stormtrooper replied. “Would you like us to take the Captain on his afternoon walk as well?”
Vader took a moment to consider. His contemplations were soon interrupted by a loud squeak as the hound gnawed on the plush Rebel. This was followed by many more squeaks, one after another. The sound rattled in the Sith Lord’s helmet.
“Yes, please take the hound,” Vader commanded. “Make sure to take this creature for a long walk. He appears to have a great deal of energy to expend.”
The hound pounced on the battered chew toy to prove the point, causing another strangled squeak to echo through the chamber. Had he not been confined within his helmet, Vader would have covered his ears.
“And take the squeaky effigy of the Rebel pilot with you!”
Later that day, Vader sat brooding over the deconstructed holocron. After several unsuccessful repair attempts, he’d finally decided to take the entire artifact apart. He’d found a small kyber sphere inside the puzzle box of carbonite, roughly the size of a marble or the enucleated eye of that officer who had dared track sand onto the ship, depending on which comparison one preferred.
Staring down at his work, the Sith Lord suddenly noticed that the hound had been very quiet lately. It had been hours since the troopers had returned from the walk. While Vader assumed that any creature belonging to his loyal Admiral and General ought to be well-behaved, he figured it would be responsible to check.
And Darth Vader was truly a responsible dog sitter. He’d sworn a vow to do so long ago as Anakin Skywalker, on the day Obi-Wan Kenobi had denied him ownership of a Coruscanti Rocker Spaniel during the Jedi Council’s Adopt a Pet event. Vader could still hear Obi-Wan now:
“Anakin, how can you expect to care for a puppy when you cannot even keep track of your lightsaber? Besides, only members of the council are allowed to adopt.”
Several months later, Anakin had sought to adopt the same Coruscanti Rocker Spaniel, only to find out that Obi-Wan had been wrong about the adoption rules – as he had been wrong about so many things – and that only Masters could adopt from the event. He had then taken custody of the spaniel after Order 66, only for the spaniel to abandon him in favor of a clone trooper. Evidently, the spaniel disliked Anakin-now-Vader due to the delay in finalizing the adoption, which was because of Obi-Wan, thereby making the entire ordeal Obi-Wan’s fault as all things were.
Foolish Obi-Wan, Vader thought to himself as he ventured out of his workshop to check on the hound.
The dog’s bed was empty, save a few mangled chew toys. The Sith Lord looked around for the hound. Perhaps the troopers had taken him for another walk.
A long squeak from the meditation chamber resolved the mystery. Captain was sitting in the Sith Lord’s seat, happily drooling on his now armless Rebel pilot. No doubt, the drool had already gotten on the armrest.
“That is my place,” said Vader. “You must move.”
The hound stared up at Vader, still chewing on the toy. Had he been a human captain Vader would have tossed him already. However, it seemed wrong to toss something with such wide, sad eyes and long, drooping ears. So, Vader reached out with the Force and gently levitated the dog back to his bed.
“This is where you must stay,” Vader instructed.
The hound blinked at him before getting up and trotting back to the meditation chamber.
“Do you not understand?” Vader heaved a mechanical sigh through his vocoder. “My meditation chamber is no place for hounds. That seat is mine. You must take a seat elsewhere.”
Captain paused a moment and turned back to gave Vader a melancholy look. The dog heaved a sigh of his own before jumping back onto the meditation chamber seat.
“No.” Vader put his hands on his hips. “That is precisely where I told you not to go.”
Before the Sith Lord could move the dog, Captain leaned forward on the console and closed the chamber.
“Nooooooo!” Vader lamented, knocking on the walls of the chamber. “You must open this meditation chamber at once!”
The chamber door remained closed. The hound was certainly stubborn, but Vader had no choice but to be patient. Obi-Wan had always said he wouldn’t have the patience to care for a dog, and Vader had no intention of proving him correct.
So, Vader waited. He pondered whether this was how Piett felt during all the moments Vader had slammed the meditation chamber shut on the Admiral mid-report. Perhaps he was not treating the Admiral as well as he thought he did…
These contemplations were interrupted by a wailing alarm. Within the meditation chamber, the hound let out a mournful howl.
Attention, a voice on the intercom announced. This is Captain Venka speaking. Due to an error with the astronavigation system, we have encountered an unexpected asteroid field. Please hang onto the nearest solid structure and prepare to take evasive action.
Fortunately, Vader was able to use the Force to keep himself steady as the floor of the ship tilted sideways. Judging from the screaming in the hallways, the rest of the crew was not so lucky. In the Sith Lord’s workshop, the fragments of the holocron suffered a similar fate.
Vader huffed in dismay, thinking of all the pieces he’d have to pick up from the floor. This was worse than the time they’d taken evasive action while he was completing that 5,000-piece jigsaw puzzle with Admiral Piett, only this time, he did not have Piett available to pick up the 5,000 pieces. It was a shame. Piett’s short stature made him very good at crawling beneath tables to retrieve jigsaw puzzle pieces and razor blades.
Once the ship had returned to its usual axis and the alarms were silenced, the meditation chamber opened at last. Captain was still lounging in the seat, having taken advantage of the chamber’s gravity stabilizers. Panting happily, the hound hopped down and trotted away. Vader could already sense the amount of drool that had accumulated in the chamber. It conjured a very wet and sticky feeling through the Force. He was in the midst of cleansing the seat when he noticed the hound had ventured into his workshop.
“No, Captain!” Vader ordered the hound to stop. “You must not go there!”
This time, the dog did not offer him even a backward glance. Vader found him plodding around the workshop, sniffing at the fallen pieces of the holocron.
“Stop that now!”
Captain grunted in dismay but did not cease his illicit inspection. He pushed at the kyber sphere with his nose. The piece had rolled off the desk and under a table. Much like his human counterpart, Captain was short enough to reach it with ease.
Now, if Vader had owned a dog before, he might have anticipated what was to come. However, because of Obi-Wan, Vader had never owned a dog before, and therefore had no way of predicting the hound’s next move. By the time Vader noticed the hound licking the sphere, it was too late. Captain swallowed the kyber crystal in one gulp, then looked up at Vader, his tail wagging cheerfully.
“NOOOOOO!”
“So, just to clarify,” said Dr. Zaryl, the Executor’s veterinarian, “Your dog swallowed a spherical kyber crystal that is, I quote, ‘slightly smaller than Lieutenant Crynyd’s left eyeball’. He has been able to eat and drink normally since then and shows no signs of asphyxiation or other respiratory distress.”
“Yes, doctor,” Vader replied. He was very familiar with the signs of asphyxiation and respiratory distress. In that moment, he felt very proud of this veterinary knowledge.
“Well, we did an X-Ray and also a K-Ray for better visualization of kyber.” Zaryl handed the flimsi scans to the Sith Lord. “It appears the ingested object is past Captain’s stomach and is moving along fine within his colon. Fortunately, it’s too small to cause an obstruction and kyber is non-corrosive. So, I would recommend you monitor him and wait for the object to pass naturally in his stool within the next day or so.”
“Good.” Vader nodded at the scans approvingly. “I will instruct the Admiral to keep a close eye on his hound’s stool when he returns tomorrow.”
“You do that, my lord,” Zaryl said tiredly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have a virtual call with Moff Jerjerrod. It seems his Tinnelian spaniel was startled by a swan on his planetside manor, and he is now concerned, for the third time this month, that she is traumatized and is not mentally prepared for her next dog show.”
“Remind him to double his efforts during the call,” Vader ordered the veterinarian.
“Yes, my lord.”
After they’d left the veterinarian’s office, Vader addressed the hound sternly:
“You must not consume any more ancient relics while you are in my care.”
Captain only panted in response. While his wrinkled features gave him a look of perpetual despondence, Vader was beginning to doubt that the hound was actually capable of remorse.
Remorseful or not, there was something different about the hound. The Force flowed through all things, but it was stronger with some more than others. Since the incident with the Sith artifact, the hound was not simply one with the Force. He was a radiant beam of Force sensitivity.
When they had returned to the Sith Lord’s chambers, Vader decided to run a test. Using a sample of the hound’s plentiful drool and a midichlorian test strip, he sought to determine whether his intuition was correct. The results confirmed his suspicions.
“20,034 midichlorians.” The Sith Lord looked from the test strip to the drooling hound. “You have surpassed Obi-Wan.”
Captain appeared impartial to this revelation. Instead, he busied himself gnawing on his after-dinner nerf bone. Vader watched the dog closely. He didn’t notice any deviations beyond the typical canine behavior.
Now, the Sith Lord was faced with a choice. He did not wish to bother the Emperor with this news during Palpatine’s much-needed retreat to the Great Empty Gorge of Exegol. However, it seemed reasonable to inform Admiral Piett and General Veers that their pet was now likely one of the most Force-sensitive beings in the galaxy.
Then again, perhaps it was better not to tell them. Vader doubted his Admiral could handle any more stressful news. Poor Piett had had a nasty encounter with a Sarlacc Pit just last week, and while he had successfully retrieved the Sith Lord’s TIE Advanced keys from the pit, he still seemed very shaken from the incident.
Besides, it was unlikely that the hound would learn to do any harm with his newfound Force sensitivity before the source passed out of his system. Even with a record-breaking midichlorian count of 27,000, it had taken Anakin Skywalker years to master the Force. No creature could learn the way of the Force within a day, save rare circumstances such as a midichlorian transplant (Vader was not sure whether those were a myth perpetuated by the Holonet) or a narrative deus ex machina device.
So, the Sith Lord decided not to tell anyone of the Force-sensitive dog for now. After confirming that Captain had dozed off for the night in his dog bed, Vader retired to his meditation chamber. He had many matters to ponder.
“You allowed Lord Vader to dogsit Captain?!”
The hologram of Captain Venka winced, faced by an irate Admiral Piett. Veers stood behind the Admiral. He’d been silent throughout the call but his anger was apparent in his hard gaze.
“Admiral, he offered,” Venka tried to defend himself. “You know that when Lord Vader offers something, it’s really just another order with the threat of strangulation.”
“So, you mean to tell us, Captain, that we left Captain with you and Covell, and you surrendered him to the resident homicidal Sith Lord?!” Piett continued to shout.
“Yes, but he seems to be having a good time! See!”
Venka forwarded a holograph of Vader beside the hound, who was happily munching a piece of nerf jerky.
“That doesn’t excuse any of this,” Piett snapped.
“Well, what do you expect me to do?” Venka protested. “If I ask him to give the dog back, he’ll just choke me.”
“Firmus, he does have a point,” Veers whispered to his spouse.
Piett hmphed. He hated to admit it, but Veers and Venka were both right. Once Vader determined that he needed to have something, it was impossible to pry it from his Force-sensitive grasp.
“You made it clear to him that he will have to return Captain when we return, didn’t you?” Piett asked sharply. “I don’t care if he’s a Force Space Wizard or whatever the hell a Sith Lord is. He won’t be keeping our dog!”
“Yes, sir.” Venka nodded. “He is aware that he will only have the hound temporarily.”
“I have your word then,” Piett said. “And I still expect regular updates on the hound’s status. I will speak with you again when we return. Over and out.”
After the hologram had disappeared, Piett turned to Veers.
“We need to get back to Executor,” Piett said. “Lord Vader is not a suitable sitter for Captain.”
“You know I love Captain just as much as you do.” Veers slung a reassuring arm around Piett. “We should get back soon, but first, we need to finish this mission.”
“Max.” Piett searched for the most delicate way to phrase this. “As much as I’d like to think he’s here, I’m starting to wonder if our leads were just dead ends.”
“We’re so close to finding him, Firmus,” Veers pleaded. “Just another day.”
Piett sighed. This wasn’t a fair choice.
“Okay,” Piett conceded. “One more day.”
There was a new presence. Vader could sense it from his meditation chamber. Breaking out of his dark reverie, he opened the chamber and stepped out, lightsaber in hand, ready to confront the intruder.
His first thoughts naturally went to Obi-Wan. Perhaps Kenobi had come to sabotage Vader’s excellent dog-sitting, desperate to prove that he’d been right to deny Anakin ownership of that Rocker Spaniel all those years ago. But the presence was not Kenobi. It was someone new yet strangely familiar. Someone Vader hadn’t seen since a certain ill-fated apology.
“Who’s a good boy?” the distinct Coruscanti accent of Captain Needa echoed through the chamber. “Yes, you are the best Rebel-hunting hound in the entirety of the Imperial navy!”
Vader activated his lightsaber. In the eerie glow, he saw the form of the late Captain Needa engaged in a tug-of-war match with the hound. The dog Captain was growling happily, shaking the Rebel pilot chew toy vigorously. His ears flapped in a whirlwind of excitement as the ghost laughed.
“Captain Needa?” Vader confronted the spirit. “Why have you come here? I order you to go back to the underworld!”
“Ah, Lord Vader,” Needa addressed the Sith Lord coldly. “I’m afraid I’m not under your command. I believe my execution was as final of a discharge as any. And frankly, I’m not very obliged to do favors after your sardonic reply to my earnest apology and murder of my entire family. No, no. I’ll go back to my eternal rest when I please… now, who’s a good hound?”
Vader watched as the ghost cooed at Captain. He wondered what he had done to deserve such disrespect.
“You must go at once, Captain!” Vader commanded, only to receive a confused look from the hound. “Not you, dog! Captain Needa! This should not even be possible. You were not in the least bit Force-sensitive. I would have sensed it.”
“Oh, I may not be,” Needa replied. “But this one here is. He requested my presence. I was his former dogsitter you see, and it seems he misses me.”
Captain dropped the mangled Rebel pilot and panted cheerfully, as if in support of Needa’s comment.
“How could you betray me like this?” Vader turned to the dog sadly. “After I allowed you to sleep in my meditation chamber.”
Captain whined and pawed at Needa’s ghost for pats. How the dog was able to interact physically with the spirit was beyond Vader’s knowledge.
“What will it take to make you desist?” Vader asked the ghost. “An apology concerning my reaction to your apology?”
“That would be nice, my lord,” Needa said. “But I’m afraid I won’t be leaving until this canine companion asks me to. I believe he wants me to stay around until his parents return.”
“Captain,” Vader addressed the hound again. “I will give you the entire packet of nerf jerky if you banish the spirit of Captain Needa to the underworld.”
Captain only yawned in reply. A large glob of drool dropped from his jowls onto the floor.
“You mustn’t feed him an entire packet of nerf jerky at once, my lord!” Needa gasped. “It will give him a horrible stomachache!”
“Silence, foul spirit!” Vader commanded. “I have taken excellent care of this hound and I will continue to do so, even if he is a traitorous hound who has harnessed the ability to keep the ones he cares about from dying.”
“Technically, I’m still dead,” Needa corrected him. “He simply summoned me back to the living realm an impervious form. Interestingly enough, Nemet attempted to do the same recently, but I was in the middle of baking afterlife scones. Nothing says eternal paradise like afterlife scones…”
“Cease your rambling!” Vader groaned. “I was entrusted with the hound, not you, Captain Needa! And if you have any respect for the Imperial chain of command, you will surrender him to me at once!”
“Lord Vader, it seems…”
“I don’t want to hear any more unsolicited advice, from you, Captain.” Vader wagged a finger at the ghost. “I am more than capable of caring for this hound, no matter what Obi-Wan may have told you in the afterlife.”
“My lord…”
“You’ve been conspiring with Obi-Wan, haven’t you?” Vader pictured Needa gossiping with the old Jedi Master. “This is why you are here. To convince me that the hound has harnessed the ability to create life while I could not?”
“My lord, Captain is attempting to leave the chambers without a leash!”
“That is nonsense, Captain Needa. The door is closed, and Captain does not know how to operate the control panel.”
The hiss of a door opening brought this assertion into question. The last Vader saw of the hound was the sight of his stout body squeezing through the doggy door.
“My lord, why do you have a doggy door?” Needa asked.
“It was meant to be for MSE droids,” Vader grumbled as he set off after the dog. “And thanks to you being an unnatural distraction, Captain has escaped. Now, come with me. We must find him.”
“I would like to stay to help you find the dog you lost, my lord,” Needa said. “But I’m not sure that will be possible. You see, as I was summoned by Captain, I can only go so long without being in proximity of him and –”
The sentence went unfinished as Needa’s image and voice faded.
Out in the hallway, Captain the Denonian Lowhound was on the trail of something very interesting. Keeping his nose close to the ground, he plodded along the hallway into an open elevator and jumped up to paw at the console. He did not know which button he’d pressed, being illiterate as most canines were.
Once the elevator had come to a stop, he continued on the trail, deep into the storage hangar of the Executor. He passed by rows of cargo shuttles until he came across a very odd-looking ship. It appeared to be shaped like a large pancake. The sight made Captain’s mouth water. He enjoyed pancakes very much, particularly the pancakes that were made by the Big Man Called Max. The Big Man Called Max was very generous with his pancakes, although the Small Man Called Sailor seemed to scold him lately when he shared his breakfast, saying something about “carbohydrates” and the Evil Man Called Dr. Zaryl.
Captain did not like the Evil Man Called Dr. Zaryl. He hoped that the Big Man Called Max would crush him with one of those tall metal dogs one day.
Captain sat down by the Pancake Ship, wondering how it got here. It did not smell like the other Imperial ships. The thought of an unknown presence in the Executor made Captain want to growl. However, the odor of something delicious inside the Pancake Ship made him drool instead.
“Come on, Chewie!” a voice said. “We need to move before more of them figure out we’re here!”
Captain watched as an unfamiliar man in a vest came into view, followed by a tall, shaggy being. The latter did not smell quite like the other dogs Captain had met, but he did not smell like a cat either. Captain deduced that the being was therefore mostly dog and was therefore more likely friend than foe.
On the other hand, Captain did not know what to make of the man in the vest. The man had a heavy odor, indicating that he did not like baths. Captain respected that fact. He also respected the strong aroma of bacon clinging to the man’s clothes which mirrored the smell of the Pancake Ship. However, there was something suspicious about this Bacon Man in the Vest, something that the Small Man Called Sailor certainly would not have approved of.
Therefore, Captain decided to investigate. After the Bacon Man in the Vest and the Being Who Was Mostly Dog entered the ship, Captain plodded up along the ramp.
“Captain!” the voice of the Needa, Dispenser of Treats hissed behind him. “Come back, boy!”
Now, Captain understood the command. However, he also understood that it was his duty as an Imperial Hound to track down suspicious business. He also understood that it was his right as an Imperial Hound to track down bacon at all costs.
So, he continued along his course and settled down in the Pancake Ship as it zipped off into light speed.