Location: Hyperspace to the Florianis System
Date: 5 ABY
The Executor cruised silently through the shimmering lanes of hyperspace, its massive form cutting through the void with the precision only an Imperial Super Star Destroyer could muster. Admiral Piett stood at the bridge, arms behind his back, his gaze locked on the swirling blue tunnel outside. Beside him, Captain Needa worked quietly, reviewing readouts and coordinates.
Piett's thoughts drifted back to their last stop—the Velaris System, a desolate wasteland that had offered nothing of value. No lifeforms, no resources, just barren rock and dust. A waste of time. But Admiral Piett knew better than to dismiss such systems offhand. He wasn't about to make the same mistakes of arrogance and underestimation that others in the Empire had made.
He thought briefly of Ozzel, choking to death after his reckless mission against the Rebels. A mission that sparked rumors of Vader's hand being replaced after a fight with several Jedi. Or Tarkin—brilliant but too overconfident, vaporized with the first Death Star because of his inability to anticipate the Rebels' boldness. Piett had survived the Galactic Civil War because he wasn't arrogant. He'd learned to follow orders, anticipate his enemies, and most of all, stay alive. That's why he and Captain Needa were still here, long after Palpatine's suspicious demise.
It still gnawed at him. How did Vader escape the Death Star while the Emperor perished? How did three Jedi—Luke Skywalker, Ezra Bridger, and even that Inquisitor, Seventh Sister—emerge unscathed from Endor? Piett had shrugged it off for a time. What mattered now was that they were still fighting the good fight—this time, in the service of something better.
Vader's reforms, though brutal at times, had made sense. Less discrimination, more merit-based leadership in the military. Piett could respect that. He himself had come from a middle-class family. Rising through the Imperial ranks had been no easy feat, but he'd done it through competence, not privilege. Under Vader's command, there was no room for arrogance or complacency.
And now, Vader was keeping the Imperial military strong, even while Chancellor Leia Organa led the New Republic politically. Piett smirked faintly—Organa may be in charge of the Senate, but everyone knew Vader still controlled the real power. He was the one fighting slavers in the Outer Rim, stabilizing sectors. If this so-called New Republic grew weak, Piett had no doubt that Vader, alongside Thrawn, Sloane, and Versio, would step in and ensure order. In the face of the Grysk threat, or whatever these new outsiders were, they would need a united military force.
Piett's reverie was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder.
"Admiral Piett?"
"Yes, Captain Needa?"
"We've been pinged by the Chimaera, even while in hyperspace. Ready to speak with Grand Admiral Thrawn."
Piett straightened, adjusting his uniform out of habit. "Lead the way, Captain."
The two officers walked across the bridge toward the communications table. The flicker of the holoprojector came to life, and a familiar blue-skinned figure appeared in mid-air, bathed in holographic light.
"Ah, Admiral Piett…" Thrawn's deep voice resonated, cool and measured. "Is my audio adequate?"
Piett nodded crisply. "Yes, Grand Admiral. We can hear you fine. Status on your findings?"
Thrawn's glowing red eyes seemed to study Piett for a moment before he answered. "Lord Vader and the Jedi have made contact with a temperate planet. Its weather is mild, similar to Naboo and the former Alderaan. They've encountered primitive tribes—human, mostly, with simple hunter-gatherer lifestyles."
"Have they discovered anything useful?" Piett asked, genuinely curious.
"Not yet," Thrawn replied, his tone analytical. "But I foresee this place serving as a possible refuge… should the Grysk or other outside forces overtake the galaxy. It could be a fallback, a place to regroup."
Piett's brow furrowed slightly. "That's worst-case scenario thinking, Grand Admiral. But I understand your need for contingencies. Hopefully, it won't come to that."
Thrawn's holographic form tilted its head slightly, a gesture that felt almost casual. "We prepare for all outcomes, Admiral. Now, what is your current situation?"
"We've completed our scan of the Velaris System," Piett began. "There was nothing of significance. A barren system, devoid of life. Our Jedi navigators didn't sense anything of note, either. We're en route to the Florianis System now. I'll provide an update once we've made contact with the surface."
Thrawn gave a small nod of approval. "Very well. I wish you and your crew success. We will speak again soon."
With that, the hologram flickered and disappeared. Piett stood for a moment, deep in thought. Thrawn was always calculating, always planning several steps ahead. It was reassuring, but it also made Piett wonder just how dire the threat from these Grysk truly was.
Needa broke the silence. "Grand Admiral Thrawn always has a contingency."
Piett nodded. "He does. And it's why I trust him. But let's focus on the task at hand. Florianis is our next stop."
XX
Back in his quarters, Piett found a moment of solitude, seated at his desk, staring out the viewport as the Executor hurtled through hyperspace. His thoughts wandered back to Vader, still as formidable as ever. The Dark Lord wasn't the same as before—not entirely. The changes had been subtle, but Piett had noticed them. Vader had become less… ruthless, in a way. Less inclined to choke his officers for minor mistakes. It was clear that, even after the Emperor's death, he was fighting for something bigger now.
Piett admired that about him. Despite everything, Vader was still in the trenches, fighting on the front lines. And though he still commanded fear, there was a new respect for him, even among the Jedi he had once hunted. Strange times, Piett thought, shaking his head. Strange times, indeed.
He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples as he thought about the future. When all this was over—if they could defeat the Great Outsiders, stabilize the galaxy, and ensure that order reigned—what would come next? The war would end one day. He wasn't a young man anymore. Middle-aged, yes, but the years of service were starting to wear on him.
Perhaps it was time to consider retiring. He could return to Axxila, his home planet, where the sky was always a dull red from strip mining and the air carried the hum of industry. But there was something appealing about the idea of finding a simpler life there. A woman—maybe slightly younger, childless, someone who still wanted to build a family. Was it too late for him? Could a man who had spent his life in the military, fighting battle after battle, still find peace in something as ordinary as love and legacy?
He frowned, shaking his head. No. Now wasn't the time for such thoughts. The galaxy needed him, and until this conflict was over, he had a duty to fulfill. Sentimentality would have to wait.
His door chimed, breaking his train of thought. "Enter," he called.
Captain Needa stepped inside, a datapad in hand. "Admiral, we'll be exiting hyperspace soon. The Florianis System is just ahead."
Piett stood, feeling the weight of command settling on his shoulders again. "Very good, Captain. Let's get ready."
XX
The Executor burst from hyperspace, the familiar blue swirl dissolving into starlight as the vast green planet of Florianis appeared ahead. The surface gleamed with the reflections of massive forests and pristine rivers. From up here, it looked peaceful. Ordinary, even. But Piett had learned long ago not to trust appearances.
As they prepared their descent into the system, Piett stood on the bridge, watching the planet grow larger in the viewport. The Jedi shuttle, tucked away in the Executor's hangar, would be launching shortly, carrying Cal Kestis, Merrin, Gungi, and their faithful droid Huyang to the surface.
Needa joined him by his side, his expression serious. "Do you think we'll find anything down there?"
Piett didn't answer right away. His eyes remained fixed on the planet below, lost in thought. Finally, he said, "I don't know. But if there's one thing I've learned, it's that nothing is ever as simple as it seems."
Needa chuckled softly. "You're probably right. Let's hope the Jedi have better luck this time."
"Let's hope," Piett agreed, though a part of him couldn't shake the feeling that Florianis was about to reveal something none of them were prepared for.
XX
Down in the hangar, Cal, Merrin, and Gungi stood ready to board the T6 shuttle. Huyang, ever the practical one, fussed over the ship's controls, muttering something about proper maintenance.
Cal adjusted his poncho, glancing at Merrin, who was leaning casually against the ship's hull. "Ready?"
Merrin smirked. "Always. Let's see what this planet has in store."
Gungi grunted his agreement, flashing a toothy Wookiee grin.
Cal felt a strange anticipation as they prepared to take off. There was something about this planet—something alive, something different. He didn't know what they'd find, but whatever it was, he was ready.
"Let's get going," he said, and they boarded the shuttle, setting course for the surface of Florianis, unaware of the living world that awaited them.
Gungi growled softly, standing behind them. His tall Wookiee form barely fit in the small cockpit, but he gave the impression of relaxed patience.
Merrin chuckled, "I get it, Gungi. You'd rather be anywhere else right now."
Gungi rumbled again, a sound that could've been agreement or a joke. It was hard to tell with him sometimes.
The cockpit door whooshed open, and Huyang entered, his mechanical joints clicking softly. "If I may, the Executor will remain in orbit. Captain Needa suggests not to linger too long—there are concerns about resources and potential dangers."
Cal nodded. "We'll keep that in mind."
XX
The T6 shuttle descended through the atmosphere, flanked by a small squadron of TIE fighters. Cal could feel the presence of the planet even before they landed—a low hum in the Force, not unlike when Ezra and Spectre Seven encountered Bendu on Atollon. There was something alive here, something aware of them.
As they touched down in a clearing surrounded by thick, vibrant trees, Cal, Merrin, and Gungi exited the shuttle. The air smelled fresh, almost sweet, and everything seemed to pulse with life. A bit too much life. Gungi sniffed the air and growled softly, his hackles rising.
Merrin raised an eyebrow. "Not your average planet..."
Cal shook his head. "Definitely not. I've got a bad feeling about this."
They didn't get far before the ground beneath their feet trembled, and the trees began to sway as if caught in an unseen wind. Cal froze, his hand instinctively reaching for his lightsaber, but before he could ignite it, a shape began to form in the air above them.
A massive, humanoid figure, draped in a dark-colored blanket, appeared. It seemed to be sitting on a stone chair that hovered within a glowing, lime-green pyramid—like a holocron, but far more imposing. The figure's eyes were hidden, but its voice was deep and resonant, echoing through the air.
"You do not belong here," the planet's spirit said, the words heavy with authority. "Your kind always brings destruction."
Cal exchanged a look with Merrin and Gungi. "We don't mean any harm," he said carefully. "We're just passing through, looking for knowledge."
The spirit shifted slightly, the stone chair creaking as if made of real rock. "Jedi and Sith alike have come here before, searching for knowledge. They left, unsatisfied, for this galaxy holds no riches for your kind."
Merrin stepped forward, her eyes narrowing. "Then why didn't they stay? Why move on?"
The spirit paused, as if considering her question. "Your technology, your greed for resources—this galaxy does not bend to such desires. It sustains only those who live simply, in harmony with it. But for those like you… only the barest necessities are available. The ones who came before sought more than this galaxy could give."
Cal frowned, the gears turning in his mind. "Then why let us land? Why not just drive us off?"
The spirit's voice deepened, ominous. "You seek knowledge, and there is some I can give. But to obtain it, you must prove yourselves worthy."
"Prove ourselves?" Cal repeated, glancing at Merrin.
"Yes," the spirit replied. "Scattered across this planet are ancient holocrons, created long ago by those who first touched the Force here. If you can solve the riddle of the first, you may be allowed to search for the others."
Merrin folded her arms. "A test, huh? Typical."
Gungi growled, baring his teeth in what seemed like excitement. He loved challenges.
Cal sighed, but he couldn't help a grin. "All right. What's the riddle?"
The planet's spirit raised one hand, and the trees around them bent slightly, as if bowing to its will. "Here is your riddle: 'What can fill a room but takes up no space?' Solve it, and the first holocron will be yours to find."
Cal blinked, then exchanged a look with Merrin and Gungi. "What can fill a room but takes up no space?" he repeated.
Merrin shrugged. "Could be anything. Light? Air?"
Gungi growled softly, offering his own suggestion.
"Maybe…" Cal trailed off, thinking.
The planet's spirit waited patiently, its imposing figure watching them from within the pyramid.
XX
As they ventured further into the forest, the strange energy of the planet seemed to grow stronger. The trees almost hummed with life, and every step felt like the ground was shifting beneath them, as though the planet itself was watching, waiting.
Merrin ran her fingers through the air, her Nightsister magic brushing against the currents of the Force. "This place feels… familiar. Like Dathomir, but… not quite."
Cal glanced at her. "You think you can connect with it?"
Merrin nodded slowly. "I can try. It might help if the planet sees us as less of a threat."
Gungi grunted in agreement, his keen senses picking up something in the distance. He motioned for the group to stop, his hand resting on the hilt of his lightsaber.
"Something's coming," Cal whispered.
The ground trembled again, and this time it wasn't just a subtle vibration. It felt like the entire planet was breathing, and with each exhale, the trees moved, twisting and shifting their positions. The air grew heavier, thick with tension.
From the treeline, a creature emerged—massive and covered in moss, its body blending seamlessly with the environment. It had no eyes, no mouth, but its presence in the Force was overwhelming, ancient, and curious.
Merrin stepped forward cautiously, her hand raised. "We mean you no harm."
The creature didn't respond verbally, but Cal could feel its curiosity through the Force. It was like the planet was speaking through it, testing them.
Cal took a breath, then answered the riddle. "It's light. Light can fill a room but takes up no space."
The creature paused, then slowly retreated into the trees, as if satisfied with his answer.
The ground beneath their feet shifted, and a small stone tablet rose from the earth. On it was etched a series of symbols—coordinates.
Merrin smirked. "Looks like you were right."
Cal exhaled, tension easing from his shoulders. "That's one down. More to go."
Gungi barked in excitement, ready for whatever came next.
"Let's get moving," Cal said, glancing up at the sky. "We don't want the Executor waiting too long."