Piett stood outside the door that led to Darth Vader awaiting his Lord's beckon. It was a matter of etiquette that there should be a significant amount of time between his ring and his entrance. That is the way Lord Vader operated. If you were to learn to survive under his leadership, you had to learn to take his pleasure in making others uncomfortable in stride. This was not the first time Piett had been called to the Sith lord's office and he stood ready and attentive for the moment when the doors should open.

Waiting gave him time to think back to the first time he had been called by Vader's office alone. He was sure that he was not going to make it back out alive. Vader, though never having shown any disposition to kill Piett, was renown throughout the entire imperial core to be short of temper and quick to kill those who did not do their job at top efficiency. He had thought about not showing up, just the quickest thought, but knew that that was not an option. Unless he wanted to run and be hunted down for desertion, there was nothing for it but to go into the jaws of a tiger and hope it wasn't hungry.

He was a captain when Vader first asked to see him in his office. Piett had buzzed the com, similar to today, and waited for a response. He had waited almost five minutes before daring to ring again, thinking that perhaps the door had malfunctioned and Vader did not know he was waiting. By that time, a sufficient amount of sweat had begun to moisten his forehead and he did not trust his hands to hold anything steady. His second ring was answered with the same amount of action as the first, none. He was certain this time, however, that he had heard the chimes go off in his lordship's quarters and so knew that no malfunction could be blamed. There he stood then. Head up, arms smartly straightened at his side and the sweat continuing to crawl down his neck and under his collar. Piett did not doubt that Vader was inside, this was typical of the man and Piett knew he would have to be patient. At last, the door had slid open and Piett waited for the command to enter. The deep voice of his commander bade him come in and the door slid back into place the minute he crossed the thresh hold.

The room was lighter than he expected from the Dark Lord. The wall and floors were the imperial black, as most things on the Executor were, but the ceiling was a bright white, with the light in the room coming from soft white lights around the perimeter of the room. In the middle of the room was a large desk littered and piled with datapads and a computer. Paper, though where and why the Sith Lord had gotten his hands on paper was beyond Piett, was stacked in neat rows around the edge of the clutter in the middle. Some looked like they had been recently shifted through and had yet to be rearranged in an orderly manner. The desk and its contents were not the immediate concern of Piett at the moment. Vader, the second hand of the empire, was standing behind the desk, his back to Piett, his masked head tilted to look out the large viewing port that made up most of the wall behind the desk.

Piett strode op to the edge of the desk and stood at attention,

"Captain Piett reporting as you ordered, sir," he saluted and stood, his part of the exchange completed.

Vader had turned around and analyzed the captain a moment before responding. Vader, Piett knew, was a sith Lord and had witnessed the power of those who were able to wield the force. It was the instrument of the dark lord and he used it to maintain order and a near tyrannical rule over the ships he commanded. Even now, though whether it was his imagination or not, Piett was certain he could feel something stretch out from the dark lord and wrap its self around the captain. A probe, testing him, assessing him, and shifting through his very thoughts. Despite this, Piett did not fear the Dark Lord as he knew most of the other officers did. There was always the possibility of being strangled or slashed in a fit of anger, certainly, but Piett had never seen his lord act unnecessarily. He did not kill simply for the sake of killing, though that was the rumor that floated around, his actions had always been against incompetent or rebellious officers. Piett could also never remember when Vader killed any soldier of lower ranks. This man always seemed to know who was the root of the problem and was able to fish them out, no matter how many layers of lies they had woven to shift the blame. Not only that, but Vader was an incredible strategist and pilot. He never shied from acting in the interest of his troops and would lead any charge or raid that he ordered his men into.

For these reasons, Piett's respect and admiration for his commander had grown over the years and he was more or less content working on the Executor. Now Lord Vader had called him to his office to speak to him in private and Piett could only hope that he would leave the office alive. He could not think of anything that might have brought Vader's wrath down on his head, but who knew that the force had revealed to the man.

"Captain Piettt," Vader's voice broke his thoughts into a thousand pieces and Piett stood straighter, "I have been watching your career for some time. Your graduation from officer training and your final scores were most impressive for a man of your age."

"Thank you, Lord Vader," Piett had nothing better to say. He had graduated top of his class with the disadvantage of being younger by several years to his classmates. He had never thought it impressive though, seeing as it happened quite often for those who could apply themselves.

"It seems that you asked to be transferred to the Executor. I do believe that is the first time any office has been asked to be placed under my command. Why did that assignment feel to be a necessity to you?"

"Sir, once I heard that you were had been assigned your own flagship and that the Emperor was looking for officers to be assigned to it, I saw it as a great opportunity for promotion and to learn under your guidance. Your reputation as a strategist and pilot is renown and I knew there was no better place to advance my own skills and understanding than under your command, sir. I was honored that my request was granted."

There was no false flattery in Piett's words, he had stated his answer as straight forward and as honestly as possible. He hoped that Vader knew this and would hear the truth in his words. He was sure that Vader had to deal with men who spoke with twisted lips all the time and he would rather not add to the Sith Lord's impatience with small-minded men.

"I am renown for a few other things," Vader answered, "None of these seemed to deter you?"

Piett of course knew what Vader was hinting at.

"I know, sir, that you are a man of little patience for a job half done. I have never seen you remove an officer for anything less of incompetency. It is my mission never to give you a reason to decommission me, sir, and if it ends up that I am removed from office, I am sure that it will be well deserved, sir."

Vader said nothing for a moment, but Piett could almost feel a lightening in the Dark Lord's mood. As though the temperature in the room had gone up a degree or two or the lights burned a little brighter.

"Well said, Captain. I am sure that you have given me no reason to, 'remove' you from office as you put it. In fact, I have called you here for a much different reason, so be at ease." Piett's shoulders visibly dropped every so slightly. "Admiral Ozzle is currently second in command of the Executor. What do you think of him?"

Piett was surprised by Vader's question. He knew that Ozzle was a self-righteous, cantankerous glory hog who thought very little of his men or even his commander. Piett had privately been surprised that the man had lasted as long as he had under the all-knowing rule of Vader. It may have had something to do with Piett and his fellow officers always springing into action to cover or fill in the gaps that Ozzle had either ignored or had been completely ignorant of. Piett chose his next words with uttermost care.

"I think him to be a sufficient officer, sir, though his lack of interest in his other officers and regard for the troops under his command concerns me at times."

Again, the room seemed to shift, Piett's brow furrowed, was it amusement that he felt. Could the dark Lord be amused? And if so, what did he find so humorous in Piett's report.

"I have been aware of the failures of Admiral Ozzle. He is a self – righteous, cantankerous glory hog and I have little patience for such men."

Piett had to fight to remain neutral as the dark Lord repeated the exact thoughts that had drifted through his brain a moment before. So he could read minds. Piett would have to be more guarded in what he was thinking in the presence of his commander.

"I am aware of that, my lord." was Piett's only response.

"You are the only man I have found worthy of replacing Ozzle should anything unfortunate happen to the Admiral. I called you to my office to make you aware that I am working towards that promotion. Be prepared Captain, it may come sooner rather than later. You are dismissed."

Piett had given a swift bow and turned to exit his Lord's office. He was shocked at Vader's words but he tried his best not to show it. He could only hope for Ozzle's sake that the Admiral was aware of his precarious position and would work harder to rectify his past mistakes. Only two months after that first meeting, Captain Piett was promoted to Admiral.

Now, here he was, three months after his promotion to Admiral, standing outside his lord's door, waiting to be let in. Piett sighed inwardly, he never knew how long his lord would make him wait. There was a time when Piett stood twenty minutes outside the dark lord's door sweating and waiting. After being promoted to Admiral, however, Vader had never made him wait for more than 5 minutes. He didn't resent the Lord for making him wait. In a way, it was a sort of tradition, a game that Vader would play with him. He never felt that it was out of spite that Vader made him wait. He could explain it, but he felt that the man enjoyed, or rather tolerated Piett's existence more than any other officer on the Executor. Piett never presumed to act on his lord's good favor but rather it made him want to perform his role to the best of his ability. He wanted to make life a little easier on the man trapped inside his armored cage. That was Piett's goal and he only hoped that it would not end in his eventual death.

It had been a minute, or so he guessed, when he was startled to attention by the heavy sound of boots coming from the corridor behind him. The regulated breathing came a second later.

"Admiral," Vader greeted and Piett stepped out of the Sith's way as Vader made to open the door with a casual swipe of his hand.

"My Lord, my apologies, I was told you wished to see me," Piett explained. If Vader had called him, he would have already been inside his office as he always was.

"And so I did, I had some urgent business to attend to and I was delayed in reaching my office. Step inside."

Piett preceded Vader into his office, though uncomfortable with having Vader at his back. Vader quickly stepped after his Admiral and walked around to stand behind his desk. Piett came and stood at attention on the other side of the desk, as usual. He had never seen Vader sit, though it appeared that the chair behind the desk was frequently used. Perhaps it was all apart of keeping up the air of superiority. Piett did not ask those kinds of questions.

"Admiral Piett, I have called you today for more than a mere report of the Executor. There is something that I require your help with." Vader did not beat around the bush when it came to getting his way. Piett did not feel it necessary to ask what his lord required, he knew that Vader would enlighten him at the right moment.

"You have been my Admiral for three months now and during that time you have shown yourself to be a cautious yet bold man. In who's judgement I rely. You have proven yourself rather accomplished and I have entrusted into your care not only my ship but the lives of the members of my crew as well. It is a responsibility that I judge you do not take lightly."

"My goal is to run this ship and crew at top efficiency, my lord. I do take into consideration the lives of the men under me and try to keep their best interest in mind, sir."

Vader nodded, as though he already knew what Piett was saying to be true but he was gratified to hear it from the man himself.

"That is why I wish to send you to the Accuser on a mission that I believe requires a man with your diplomatic yet intuitive disposition. It is a matter of top importance to me and I trust no other to accomplish it."

Vader paused, Piett thought that he seemed reluctant to continue, which caused the admiral no small amount of anxiety.

"I am honored you would consider me, my lord," Piet tried to fill in the lengthening gap in their conversation.

"Admiral, tell me the name of the rebel that is responsible for the destruction of the first Death Star."

"Commander Luke Skywalker, my lord," Piett's confusion increased ten-fold. What did that rebel have to do with anything. Piett knew that it was the Sith's obsession to capture the rebel, but last Piett had heard the commander had not been sighted since the battle on Hoth.

"Very good, Admiral, that is correct. Over the past few nights I have been contacted through the force by the commander, though it was not until last night that we were able to speak to one another. He told me that he has been capture by Captain Nisca, the commander on board the Accuser. It appears that the Captain has found a drug that suppresses the commander's force signature and it wasn't until last night that Luke was able to make full contact with me. He is extremely weakened by the drug and we were only able to speak to one another for a few minutes."

"I was unaware that the commander was force sensitive, my lord. Or that communication through the force was possible at such a great distance." Piett interjected.

"Usually communication to this extent is not possible outside of family bounds." Vader intoned.

"How was the command able to contact you then, my lord?" Piett asked, completely baffled by everything that his commander was saying. He knew very little of the force and the thought of someone interjecting themselves into your dreams and thoughts was most unpleasant to him.

"It was accomplished because we are related, Admiral" Vader's voice seemed to be thrown a couple of pitches lower as he delivered the stunning revelation to Piett. Piett stood, completely at a loss for words. The first thought that ran through his mind was that Vader was the rebel commander's uncle or perhaps cousin. Still, the thought that Vader had any family at all had never presented itself to Piett. The man seemed to have been born in the armored suit he wore and Piett could not even begin to think of his commander as a child. The thought simply would not let itself be created.

"You are related by blood, my lord?" Piett asked, thrilling to know the exact relation but not wanting to prompt Vader into telling him anything he didn't desire to.

"Indeed, I am Luke Skywalker's father" Vader said.

Piett gasped audibly, his shock at last breaking through his defenses. Vader had a son. Vader had a rebel son. Vader had a son that was the complete opposite of his Sith father. Piett has seen the vids of the commander. The boy was a shining beacon of innocence and rebel righteousness. Vader was shrouded in darkness, like the cape that flowed about him. His son, though Piett could hardly believe that the idea was correct, was as full of light as the blonde hair upon his head.

"You are sure, my lord?" Piett sounded dull in his own ears, "When did you discover your relationship."

"I knew the boy was force sensitive after his incredible shot that destroyed the death star and not long after that both the Emperor and I felt the truth of the boy's origins through the force. If you remember the mission I was delayed at Bespin for, it was there that I told the boy of our relationship. He is aware that he is my son. In that moment our bond was secured and I have been somewhat aware of his presence at all times. I have tried several times to contact him, but he has shielded his mind from me. He was shocked and upset when we last parted and I believe that he is having trouble coming to reconcile our relationship. Last night was the first times that I have been able to talk to him through our bond. I need you to go to the Accuser and retrieve the boy."

"I will do so, of course, my lord," was Piett's immediate response. He projected more confidence than he felt.

"You have questions, Admiral." It was not a question itself.

"Yes, my lord," Piett knew better than to hide from the Dark Lord and having these question answered now would make his mission all the easier. "Please do not take any disrespect from me when I ask why you are not going to retrieve the commander yourself. It seems an important enough mission for you, yet you are to remain here?"

"Yes," Vader nodded and the room dropped in temperature. Apparently Piett had touch a chord with his lord, "I would like nothing more than to go the boy myself, however I desire that the Emperor remains in the dark about me having possession of Luke. My every move is watched by the Emperor's spies and if I were to leave on this mission myself, the Emperor would surely know of Luke's capture before I gained him back to myself."

"Is he that important to the Emperor," Piett wondered, he was force sensitive, a novelty to be sure but why would Vader go to such length to hide him from Palpatine.

"He is," was Vader's response. His only response and so Piett did not press the issue.

"There is another reason I am unable to go," Vader continued, "Luke warned me last night that Captain Nisca has been developing this drug not for the boy but for myself."

Piett's shock was taken to a whole new level and, to his surprise, he felt a sudden rush of protectiveness for his commander. At his rush of emotion, he felt the room lighten once again. Was Vader amused at his feelings? Perhaps they were a little uncalled for. If anyone in the universe didn't need protection it was the Dark Lord. But Piett could not help but feel aghast and betrayed for his lord's sake.

"Surely he would not be so foolish," he said finally, "even if he did manage to administer the drug to you, what of the Emperor? Does he think he can get away with such an act of open treason? He would be starting a war he has no..."

Piett was cut short by Vader's raised hand,

"Captain Nisca thinks the Emperor to be an old man who has only held power through me. He believes that once he is rid of me, he will be rid of the Emperor. I did not summon you here to talk about the stupidity and short sightedness of over ambitious imperial captains. His little plan of treason is insignificant in the fact that it has failed before it has begun. I have stopped dozens of such mutinies before and this one is only different in the fact that my son's life is at stake as well. I cannot risk being out of commission while attempting to rescue my son."

"Is the Captain aware of your relation?" Piett asked, that could make things a little more complicated.

"You are the only other soul that knows he is my son. The captain does know that I have desired the commander in my possession for sometimes. He knows that he is valuable to me and I anticipate him luring me aboard his ship with the ruse of giving Luke over to me. By that times, however, I will have hoped that you have successfully retrieved my son."

Piet stood stock still, his body at attention but his head bowed to stare at the floor. Vader allowed him a moment to collect his thoughts. All the information he had just received was overwhelming to say the least. He knew that he would, of course, do as his lord instructed and was already devising plans on the rescue of Luke Skywalker. Darth Vader's son. The thought would have to resonate in his brain several more times before it would sound somewhat plausible. He stood statuesque for several moments before raising his head.

"I will do my best, my lord. When would you like me to depart?"