Chapter Text
Piett had been working under Vader for quite some time now, and like most people, Vader terrified him when he first transfered. Vader continued to terrify most officers throughout their time on the Executor, but oddly enough, Vader seemed to avoid him. Piett rarely made mistakes, ever the perfectionist, but the few times he did someone else could be conveinently blamed. Not to mention Vader's apparent refusal to give him direct orders, something he wasn't shy about with any other officer. At first he thought the tall comander simply didn't like him, he was proven wrong when he found he was one of longest standing officers on the bridge. He eventually came to realise Vader favored him, trusting Piett to understand an order without him having to clairify in person. That Piett knew how to do his job. Eventually Piett's fear of the man dissipated and with that, Piett found himself observing his comander. He noticed quite a few things, like how Vader's feet shifted when he lied, how he tilted his head when an officer said something foolish, how half his death threats were puns, or how he walked onto the bridge much quieter than usual and with a slight limp whenever he came back from a meeting with the Emperor. That was certainly the most surprising, possibly the most powerful person in the galaxy, limping after a meeting with an old man, even if he was the Emperor. Piett felt sympathy for him , no matter how grand Vader's achievements, he alway came back with that limp. As much as Piett would like to talk to Max about this rather striking revelation, he respected Vader to much to feed him to the imperial gossip mill like that, though Vader still ended up as their topic of conversation.
"I still don't understand how you can get any work done with that gaint lurking around," Max exclaimed, taking a sip of his caf.
"It's not that bad, Max, as long as you know how to do your job and aren't pretentious about it he just leaves you alone," Piett replied.
"Firmus, you've made plenty of mistakes that would've warrented death for any other officer and you're still alive," Max said rather flatly. "You don't think that's even a little bit odd."
"Well, when you put like that I supose," Piett relented. "Maybe I'm just better than everyone else."
"Better than Ozzel, that's for sure. I swear, Vader should just kill him already, you'd make a much better admiral."
"I'm fairly sure Vader's just waiting for him to screw up enough," Piett said, sipping his own caf.
Max laughed, "You're probably right, one can only hope he promotes you when it happens!"
"Oh, please," Piett sighed. "Vader may make spontanious promotions but he's not going to give me three ranks out of no where."
"Who knows, you are his favorite."
Piett slapped him lighting on the arm. Max laughed again, getting up to leave.
"Well I better get to work, lots of paperwork to get through," Max said. "I'll see you later, Firmus."
"Goodbye, Max," he replied as the other man left.
Piett sighed, he wasn't looking forward to work today. The Executor held her orbit above the Imperial Center, the Emperor having demanded an in-person meeting with Lord Vader. Piett's work must've really been getting to him, because he couldn't help but compare Vader after such a meeting to a kicked tooka. He downed the rest of his caf and got up, heading to the bridge. Just as he expected, when he entered Vader was there staring out the view port in his spot, shoulder just slightly more tensed up than usual. Almost unperceivable, Vader's head just barely tilted in Piett direction when he entered, quickly turning back to the stars.
"Captain!" Admiral Ozzel shouted, pulling Piett out of his daze.
"Yes, Admiral?" Piett responded.
"I asked for those cargo reports yesterday," he began, as condescending as usual. "Where are they?"
"Apologies, sir, they hadn't been completed until this morning," Piett explained. "I'll get them to you as soon as possible."
"See that you do," Ozzel replied, a line familiar to Piett, plagiarized straight from Vader himself. Piett glanced at the dark lord at the reminder. Vader seemed to notice, gaze flicking over to the active conversation.
"I will, sir," Piett said, quickly reeling his focus back in. With that Ozzel leaves, presumably to pretend to do work, and Piett went to actually do his own.
Piett went through the long list of cargo, making sure there weren't any redundancies, and prepared to send it to the impatient admiral. Work was more boring than usual, most of it having been finished earlier, causing his gaze to drift. Vader hadn't moved from his spot by the view port, the tension still holding strong. He couldn't help but wonder if there was anything he could do to help. On top of all the constant work and stress the Emporer placed on the man, he also had to deal with incompetent officers like Ozzel and unruly citizen thinking they could start a rebelion. He deserved a nice, long vaction, somewhere far away from the Emporer. Piett wondered what the Sith Lord was like fully relaxed, working on his hobbies, or just have a conversation with someone outside of the Empire. A casual chat with dark lord would be something Piett would like to do. Vader was extremely intelligent and an incredible engineer. The only downside would be the inveitable ache in the neck, given how tall Vader was and how short Piett was. Oh my... Piett hadn't really thought about that before. Vader could probably pick him up like he weighed nothing. Unexpectedly, Piett found he rather liked that idea.
Vader's shoulders tightened and the man quickly turned and left the bridge. Piett franticly turned back to his console, remembering the common rumor that Vader could read people's thoughts. He really hoped that was just a rumor. If it wasn't, Piett might have trouble with that, but Vader hadn't killed him like one might assume. Perhaps the mysterious man didn't mind Piett intrusive thoughts. Screw it, Piett had survived this long under Vader, hadn't he. He sent out the cargo report just a his shift neared its end and very soon he'd be head back to the crew quarter for a good drink and conversation with Max.
"Um... Admiral," an officer started.
"What is ensign?" Ozzel replied. "There's no need to mumble."
"Lord Vader requested an in-person report..." the ensign replied timidly. Ozzel's face paled so fast one might've thought he died on the spot.
"Well," he stuttered. "Get to it then!" Poor ensign, poor boy looked terrified.
"B-but-"
"Don't worry, ensign," Piett cut in, holding out his hand for the data pad "I'll deliver the report."
Both men looked shock, but Ozzel nodded when the young man looked to him. he handed Piett the data pad and went back to his station.
"Best get there soon," Ozzel said, still shocked but still unwilling to deliver the report himself, coward that he was. Piett nodded and left the bridge, heading towards Vader's private quarter.
It didn’t take long for him to reach the door to tall door that always seemed much colder than the rest of the ship. Piett reached for the buzzer, but the door opened before he reached it. He took that as an invitation and walked in. The room he entered was large and mostly clear of any furniture save for Lord Vader's meditation pod. It was closed, but cracked open when he approched. Vader sat in his chair, but Piett's head was down, looking over his data pad.
"Lord Va-" he looked up to find Vader helmetless. Piett had seen glimpses of him before, but here Vader sat with only a light oxygen mask. Piett's first thought was how he got those scars and if there was anything he could do. Vader tilted his head but Piett only noticed his mismatched eyes, one sickly yellow, the other a tired but beatiful blue. The man looked exhausted.
"Captain," Vader pulled him out of his thoughts. His voice was much quieter without the helmet, but no less rough. "Your report."
"Oh, yes!" Piett felt his face heat. He recited the report carefully, being sure not to let his eyes wander from his data pad , but it was difficult to concentrate when he could feel Vader staring at him. Piett finished and looked up, catching Vaders gaze. Most surprisingly, Vader's eye widened minutely and turn away almost shyly.
"You may leave, Captain," he said.
"Y-Yes, sir," Piett replied after some hesitation, and left. Surely he'd only imagined that, there was no way, but he couldn't get the image out of his head. Perhaps Vader truly had heard Piett's thoughts. He hurried towards the officer's lounge, he and Max had a lot to talk about.