"For your own sake, General, put this Christmas nonsense to bed."

Though he seemed content not to trouble the Dark Lord any further, the general was rather persistent in his celebration of Christmas, much to the chagrin of Admiral Piett. It was silly, thought the admiral. What, precisely, did they have to celebrate? To make matters worse, Veers had made a habit of poking fun at this attitude of his, and he'd begun calling him "Ebeneezer." He seemed to think the admiral had earned it, and perhaps he had; Piett tried for nearly a week and a half to persuade him to let this silly whim go.

"What in Heaven's name do you mean?" he responded. "I haven't bothered Vader in nearly a week now."

"He knows you're at it, Veers."

"He seemed perfectly alright with it before."

"You're going to rely on the stability of one of Lord Vader's whims?"

"You worry about your health, and let me handle mine, would you?"

Finally, after several talks of relatively the same nature, the admiral was forced to give up. He didn't have the time or the patience to bother. "Fine then," he sighed to himself, walking toward the bridge one morning, "let him do as he will. So long as he keeps it to himself, who am I to stop him?"

Once he arrived, he took his position on the bridge as usual and tried to push the general out of his mind, but something grabbed his attention. It wasn't a very loud noise, but it wasn't a part of the usual buzz. Someone was humming. He looked around quickly for the source, and his eyes rested on the captain just as the realization hit him. "Kallic!"

The captain stopped and glanced up to him sheepishly. "My apologies, sir..." He cleared his throat. "General Veers has rather got it stuck in my head."

Piett was clearly unamused. "Focus on your work," he said sternly. The captain quickly went back to his job. It seemed the general wasn't one for keeping things to himself. He shook his head. One man humming Christmas songs was not enough to warrant concern. After all, he'd said it was an ear worm, and Kallic was generally a hard worker; he could give him the benefit of the doubt.

A few days later, it became evident that it had not simply been an ear worm. The number of musically inclined crew members had been growing steadily, and to make matters worse, Lord Vader hadn't made a single remark on the matter. It was almost as if he didn't hear it. It never did get exceedingly loud, never to a forte. It was quiet, but it was always there, pretending to be unobtrusive and slowly working away at the tidy atmosphere. By the time day five had passed, Piett could stand it no longer. The second he got the chance, he headed out of the bridge at a brisk walk, bristling even before he made it to the general's door. Once he arrived, he gave a few quick knocks and waited impatiently for his greeting.

"Enter," called the general.

Piett stepped in with every intention of scolding him like some naïve private, but the words never made it out of his throat. He was too shocked for words. "Veers? What in the-"

"Do you like them?" he asked, smiling and looking up and around at his decorations. "I had to improvise a bit, but I think they've come out nicely."

"What are they?"

"Turn signals!" And indeed they were. Hanging about the perimeter of the room, only about an inch from the ceiling, was a wire strung with blinking red and orange turn signals.

"Where did you get them?"

The general shrugged. "Well, we have this enormous garage down in the lower levels, and we certainly didn't need so many, so-"

"You stole turn signals to decorate your office?" The admiral was aghast.

Veers held up a finger to stay him. "Now, now, I did not steal them; I borrowed them. I have every intention of putting them back."

Piett couldn't even respond for a moment. Finally he spoke, pinching the bridge of his nose in a futile attempt to stem his growing headache. "I take it you didn't tell anyone you were 'borrowing' them."

Veers shrugged. "I didn't see a reason to."

Piett breathed a long sigh through his nose. "You've 'borrowed' turn signals to decorate your office for Christmas...Veers do you have any idea how much you're disrupting things?" he asked, finally looking back up to him.

"Oh, come now, Ebeneezer, now how is this disruptive?"

"Don't you call me that, and you're corrupting my bridge crew."

The general's face crumpled in confusion. "Corrupting?"

"They can't even focus on their work; they're too busy humming your silly songs!"

Veers shook his head. "They're not my silly songs, admiral; I may not be young, but I'm not that old."

"Don't change the subject."

"Alright, fine, but how is their singing keeping them from their work? Are you telling me they can't do both?"

"General, it's destroying the work environment."

"Oh nonsense, it's creating a new one that's all, one that's slightly lighter than it's predecessor."

"We are in the middle of a war, Veers; life isn't light."

"Oh calm down; it will pass. You've only got to put up with it for-."

"General!"

"Well, what exactly am I to do about it? They're your men! If it bothers you so much, you control them. It's not like I sent them in there humming just to bother you, lovely an idea as that is. I can't stop them."

Piett glared at him. Did he think he hadn't been trying? He'd brought them back into line six times now, and it didn't seem to be making a bit of difference. What was he to do? Subject them to disciplinary action? For what? Insubordination? A petty reason at best, and he couldn't just suspend the entire bridge. He spoke quietly, though the glare remained intact. "You could stop all this nonsense and stop influencing them. You're leading by example, and you know it."

"Of course I am, I try to lead by example every second of my life. I am a father, you know; you get into the habit after a while. Of course, you're not a father, so perhaps you don't know." He shrugged. "The fact remains."

The admiral, fearing that his teeth would crack if he grit them any harder, finally breathed a long, exasperated sigh through his nose, closing his eyes as he did. "Fine then, play your little game, and when the Rebels blow us to bits because my bridge can't focus long enough to fire a blaster cannon, don't blame me." That said, he turned on his heel and walked out, more frustrated now than when he came. "Blast that man," he muttered.

Though Piett said nothing upon his return, word of the admiral's frustration gradually filtered down through the crew, and the place slowly fell back into silence. Whether or not this normalcy prevailed when he wasn't in the room, he didn't know, and he wasn't sure that it really mattered, so long as the Rebels didn't start an attack while he wasn't there. He would be certain to be there.