Brief Synopsis: Then Lieutenant Piett finds himself climbing the ranks aboard the dreaded dreadnought Executor, which he finds to be the exact direction he shouldn't be heading.

XXX

One Year After the Battle of Yavin

Like a long dagger wielded by an imposing hand, the Executor sliced through space above the orange planet's surface. Sullust, the volcanic hotbed home to the Sorosuub Corporation and its repulsive Sullustan species. Lieutenant Piett looked down upon it with disdain despite the present situation, which had him quavering in his boots.

Not about what Darth Vader had in store for Sullust, which despite previous threats from the late Grand Moff Tarkin himself, once again had silently given warships to the growing Rebellion. Big ones, nasty ones. Ones that Piett had watched destroy three frigates above Malastare and then wink away into hyperspace. The Rebellion, despite the best efforts of Imperial propagandists, had in reality grown to something much larger and equipped than anticipated.

The bothersome race would have what was coming to it. That wasn't what was bothering him, however; as he stood there by his tactical observations post, he looked out of the corner of his eyes towards the front of the bridge, where Admiral Ozzel and General Korast stood, sweating in their uniforms. The whole bridge was sweating, waiting for the real commander of the vessel to show up.

Darth Vader. Tall, imposing, armored. The Executor was his flagship, a Super Star Destroyer of gigantic proportions to which Piett had been lucky enough to be assigned to. Well, that had been his thought at the time.

It's more of a prison now, isn't it? A prison, and a graveyard. All in one...

There was no doubt the Executor was the highest performing ship in the entire Imperial Fleet. Vader often hand-picked officers to come aboard his ships right from the academy's, choosing only the absolute best for himself and discarding the others. To come aboard the Executor was an honor only a handful would ever experience, and Lieutenant Piett expected he should have been grateful he was one of those exceptional junior officers, to work on what was the pride and joy of the Empire.

What with the Death Star gone. His eyebrows came together with every thought of the multi-cursed battle station. He had lamented the idea of spending billions of credits on a station like that, when more vessels like the Executor could have easily been constructed-

"Sub-Lieutenant?" That was Lieutenant Commander Haven, chief of the tactical sensor station, working with him and four others in the left bridge pit. He looked down at Piett with the same strained eyes everyone else had: they all knew what was coming.

"Y-yes?"

"What news from Korast's troops?"

He blinked, swallowed as he brought up the screen. His chest tightened. "Ah... the battalion has sent it's feedback. Confirmation that all the hangars are empty on the planet's surface..."

Piett trailed off, and Haven didn't have to know why. "Send to Ozzel, now," Haven whispered before looking up. The doors to the extravagant bridge had opened, making everyone snap their faces up. Above them all, Ozzel and Korast straightened their backs, looking at the incoming figure with undisguised distress.

Darth Vader glided like a specter towards them, silent and drawing the eyes of everyone. Behind him came a pale-faced fellow Imperial: Colonel Veers, as he remembered. Piett gulped, his hand trying to find the reassuring presence of the tactical station.

"Well?"

The silence stretched for a moment. Ozzel glanced down at the datapad in his hand, where Piett had just transmitted the deadly news. Piett could see the desperate look on his face, and saw it fade away. "Lord Vader, I- we, we regret to inform you of the disappearance of the next shipment of vessels from traitorous elements in the Sorosuub Corporation."

Deep breathing. "We will triple our efforts in placing spies in key positions," Korast said stoutly. "They cannot keep evading our presence-"

"Just as they evaded your troops on Kashyyyk?"

"The blame falls squarely on Admiral Ozzel," Korast said defensively. "He demanded we wait at the system's border to as to not alert them, which also put them out of range of our sensors! That had-"

"Enough." Piett felt a chill run up his spine, and he looked determinedly at this display, even though there was nothing on it. Likewise, he knew many others were attempting to blot out the conversation...

"My Lord, the Sorosuub Corpoation will be made to pay reparation for this outrage," Ozzel said acidly. "When the workers know they are costing their planet, they will surely stop-"

Vader's breathing seemed to intensify. "I am not looking for excuses, Admiral, I am after results. Results neither of you have yet to provide me with since the loss of late General Tagge."

Piett remembered that, and it was that event which had made him start to dread being aboard this ship. That event, in fact, that had made him start to wonder whether the Executor's name was truly just a name.

Ozzel panicked. "We will provide the results, Lord Vader-"

"You will, Ozzel. As will... General Veers."

The bridge took in a collective breath. Korast, perhaps too numb with shock to properly understand, gave out a, "What?" before the choking began.

Piett shut his eyes, wanting nothing more than to leave the bridge entirely, to go back to the Accuser where he had previously been stationed, guarding transport ships. Not aboard this floating graveyard. But he could not escape the sounds of Korast's final moments...

A century later it finally ended, and he heard the prim stamps of the guards coming forward to take Korast's body away. "Do not disappoint me with more excuses, General Veers," Vader said in his most intimidating voice. To Veers' credit, he gave a firm, "Yes, Lord Vader," before all but running back out the bridge door.

Piett sighed. Vader would stay at the bridge to view the stars like he always did, then would go back to his chambers-

"Admiral Ozzel, the reason you have not been equally terminated is because the error is not at your hand. Instead, it had been performed by your tactical chief. Kindly direct me to him."

Beside him, Haven froze. His eyes looked at Piett a moment, then at the other four tactical officers before slowly turning up towards the front section of the bridge. Ozzel pointed at him without hesitation, a look of relief upon his face. You're glad you could shove the blame somewhere else, Piett thought with rising anger. You blasted pig...

Darth Vader slowly walked forward, until he stood above Haven and looked down upon him. Haven found his tongue. "L-Lord Vader, I-"

"My patience has worn thin, Lieutenant Commander Haven. I will not have your inaptitude in leading the tactical station remain in place any longer."

It was a million times worse than Korast's execution. Haven flailed, hands clutching his throat right beside him! Once he grabbed Piett's shoulder in a mad grip, trying to do what, the poor tactical officer did not know. He looked away, his heart pounding and trying vainly not to be sick. Haven crumpled to the pit's floor, unmoving.

"Sub-Lieutenant Piett, I am to understand you were the one to initially bring back the results."

No. No, no, please no. "Yes," he said mechanically, forcing himself to look up at the death's mask. "Yes, that was me."

Vader looked down on him. "You may put yourself to rest, Piett. Haven's belief that the preliminary results were not needed and should be discarded cost us three hours we otherwise would have had to arrive and catch the Rebels." Disbelieving, Piett found his voice. "Sir...?"

"Your quick thinking and early predictions would have won us the capture of more Rebel Vessels, Lieutenant Commander Piett."

Piett had long grown used to the informal promotions, done often at Vader's whim. But still he could not dare believe his luck. A promotion, Haven's job? It was too good to be true-

It is too good to be true. Piett watched as Vader turned back to Ozzel. "Begin targeted fire on all Sorosuub factories this side of the planet. Then inform them there will be no recompense." He went to the front of the bridge, and Piett felt a well of despair rise up inside of him. Another step closer to direct contact with Vader. Being up there, with Ozzel and Veers. This is no promotion: it's a line straight to the gallows...