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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.

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Max wasn't there! Of all the times he could be late, now? Really? Piett could not keep this to himself anymore. He sat at one of the tables, mind running through what had happened. Vader only held that look for a second, but that was all it needed to brand itself in Piett's mind. Vader had always been an indomitable force, that face didn't fit with what Piett knew of the man. Stupidly, Piett wanted to see that face again. The thought would likely get him killed, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Oh, Firmus," Max said as he finally arrived. "Sorry I'm late-"

"Max!" Piett said, cutting Max off. "We need to talk!"

"Force!" Max startled. "Calm down! What is it!?"

"It's... It's private." Piett replied.

"Well uh... I still have that whiskey in my quarters," Max suggested, still rather confused.

"I could really use that about now."

"Let's get to then, yes?" Max said, gesturing towards the door.

"Quickly please," Piett stood to follow Max to his room. "I'm not sure how much longer I wait..."

When they arrived, Max entered first, going for the whiskey, and Piett closed the door behind them.

"Alright then," Max said, pouring two glasses and sitting down. "What's so important now?"

"I saw Vader without his helmet."

Max choked on his drink.

"You what?!" he exclaimed. "How?!"

"I don't know, it just happened! My shift was ending and Ozzel was going to send some poor ensign to die giving Vader a report so I offered to do it but when I got there his helmet was off!" Piett rambled. "He didn't seem particularly bothered, if he was I'm sure I'd be dead!"

"Firmus, what did you do to get his attention?"

"You said I wa-!"

"I was joking, Firmus!" Max scolded. "What did you do?!"

"I may have had some stray thoughts about him," Piett confessed. "But those are just rumors, right?"

Max signed. "Firmus, when it comes to Lord Vader, nothing is just a rumor!"

Piett groaned and downed his glass.

"Can we just drink and talk about something else," he sighed. "I don't want to think about it..."

"Fine." Max relented. "But be careful, alright?"

"When am I not, Max."

They drank and talked, but Piett couldn't stop thinking about it. Later that night, he laid in bed, Vader's expression branded into his mind. He pushed it out of his head and turned over, shoving his face into his pillow. That's it, he resolved, no matter what he does, I'll ignore it and do my work like I always do. He couldn't stop himself from thinking about the man, but he could control his reaction. He squeezed his pillow and went to sleep. Unfortunately, he didn't get very much that night.

The next morning, Piett pried his eyes open and dragged himself out of bed to get ready. Max was waiting in the officer's lounge with a cup of cuff for the both of them. They chatted about work and relatives, and not the other thing, before they separated for their respective stations. Vader was in his usual spot by the viewport, oddly enough just as tense as the day before. It's never taken Vader more than a day to recover from a meeting with the Emperor r, it must be something else. Piett worried that he might be the cause, but that couldn't be possible. Regardless, Piett would ignore it, he couldn't afford any more attention from Vader. work went by like normal, boring and long. Peculiarly, Vader hadn't even glanced at him (Piett would've felt it) and left halfway through his shift. Perhaps yesterday's incident was just a coincidence. Piett felt rather disappointed, but he didn't understand why. This was a good thing, wasn't it? It certainly didn't feel like it.

The shift went by slowly, Piett had his own mind to thank for that. He commed Max to cancel their nightly gossip, he felt too out of it today.

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It had been three days and Vader hadn't even glanced at Piett and the man was visibly less tense. It convinced Piett that what had happened that day truly didn't matter, that it had been coincidence, that Vader hadn't cared that Piett had seen his face. But then he remembered his expression, there was no way Vader would let anyone see him like that... except for Piett apparently. And that was what confused him the most, after the initial shock. What made him so special? Piett was just some outer rim officer who only joined the military to get off his home planet. The only reason he'd gotten to this point was because he somehow impressed Tarkin.

He sighed and put down his data pad, he wouldn't be getting work done tonight. God, Piett shouldn't want to see that expression again! Seeing the man so... vulnerable (how that word could describe Vader still baffled him) was intoxicating. Vader trusted him, but Piett didn't think he trusted him that much. Piett could feel his resolve cracking under the thought. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed at his eyes. Tall, dark, and deadly had alway been my type, Piett thought and chuckled at his own joke. He sighed, he really ought to head to bed, he had an early shift in the morning.

Sleep didn't come easy that night, he kept tossing and turning. Eventually, he gave up and opened his eyes only to find himself in the center of of a blasted heath, like everything had been burned but never grew back. Despite the ashy environment it was very cold, almost biting. Not far from where he stood was an old, abandoned estate sitting next to a dried up river. The house looked Nabooan in origin. Piett was dreaming. A rather odd dream, he thought. He was certain he'd never been to a place like this before. He looked around, studying the strange place. After a few moments, he started making his way towards the estate. It was a dream, wasn't it? Might as well explore and the house had a strange calling to it.

The walk didn't take as long as expected, he was at the front door, kicked in and rotten, in no time. As soon as he stepped through, he felt like an intruder, like he was invading something immensely private. Carefully, Piett crept around the house. The inside was just as decrepit as the outside, everything was covered in dust and ash. He wandered aimlessly through the house, the intruding feeling persisting, until he stumbled upon a balcony. A man leaned on the railing, looking out at the once beautiful view. Piett didn't recognize him, too hidden in shadows, but the feeling increased.

"Hello?" Piett asked. The man didn't respond, but he visibly tensed. "Are you all right?"

"I was wondering when you'd show up..." The man responded but remained rooted in place.

"Excuse me?" Piett said, confused.

"I know why you're here," The man turned. "There is no need to be coy."

"My Lord!" Piett startled. "My apologies! I-I hadn't realised it was you." Vader was helmetless (no mask this time) and wore lighter clothes, revealing intricate prosthetic limbs.

Vader looked confused and then surprised.

"You are not supposed to be here," he said, harshly. Piett didn't reply, only stepping back as Vader approached him. He flicked his wrist and Piett braced himself.

Piett's eyes flew open. He was still in bed, it had only been a nightmare. He rubbed his eyes and reached for the clock at his bedside. He'd woken up three hours before the alarm, lovely. Well, he might as well get ready early and try to get some work done. Today was going to be a long day.

"Firmus," Max asked over their morning caf. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm just... tired," Piett answered blankly.

"Alright," Max relented. "Just be sure not to overwork yourself."

"Will do," Piett replied mindlessly and got up to leave.

Piett's mind was stuck on his dream like a broken holo-record. With Lord Vader's abilities, he wasn't sure whether it was real, though that dilemma didn't last long. The bridge door opened, but the spot in front of the viewport was unusually empty.

Vader isn't here today, Piett thought, I suppose that dream wasn't really my dream after all.

Piett hesitated at the realization but hurried to his station. God, no wonder it had felt so invasive, but wasn't Vader the one who had brought him into the dream? Then again, he seemed rather surprised to see Piett. Maybe he should apologize, but would that be another invasion of privacy. Perhaps he should just leave it alone, stick to his resolve.

"Captain!" Ozzel shouted. "Where have you been, Lord Vader wants an in-person report. From you. Specifically."

Well, there goes that plan.

"On it," Piett sighed and took the data-pad.

Why would Vader want a report from him after what happened? Just apologies, Piett thought, if he kills you he kills you. He reached Vader's chambers and the door opened for him.

"My Lord," Piett began. "I have your reports but first-"

"Captain, I believe I owe you an apology," Vader cut him off.

"I-I'm sorry…?" Piett stumbled.

"I cost you sleep, didn't I?" Vader replied. He was wearing his helmet this time, standing by the view port, but staring at Piett.

"l-I suppose... But it's fine, My Lord, no apology necessary!" Piett replied, panicked.

"I am well aware," Vader spoke. "But… I wanted to apologize."

"Oh..." Piett was very surprised. "Well, thank you my Lord..."

"Continue with your report, Captain."

Piett recited the report and Vader dismissed him. Piett stood outside the door for a few seconds, processing what had happened. Maybe he shouldn't tell Max about this one.

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There truly must’ve been something special about Piett for Vader to apologize to him. Since Vader’s first public appearance no one had ever heard him apologize to anyone but the Emperor, and clearly it wasn’t out of respect. Does Vader care about me? The thought made Piett blush. He was rather quickly making his way back to the bridge, no, you’ll have time to think about later. You have a job to do, he told himself. He reached the bridge and rushed over to his station. He drowned himself in his work, finishing tasks days ahead of schedule, never letting his mind wander. He would’ve stayed longer than the shift change if it wasn’t for a coworker letting him know. He thanked them and started making his way to his room.

Does he care about me, Piett thought again, entering the room. Do I care about him…?

Oh. The thought never occurred to him before. Even if Vader did want to be with him, did Piett really want that? You know what? Fuck it! Yes, I do, he thought, I think I have for quite some time now. Piett groaned as he sat down at his desk. He was going to get himself killed. He’ll deal with that later, now he had to think about how to seduce the Supreme Commander of The Imperial Navy.™

Maybe I could give him something, he suggested to himself. No, what would Vader even want?

He’s been stressed lately, he thought. I’ll just ask him if he’s okay, start simple. I doubt the Emperor ever asked that.

He settled on the decision. The next day, during his report, he’d simply ask if the man was alright.

He stood up and went to get ready for bed, no more thinking for tonight. He didn’t have any dreams that night.

Piett woke the next day, fueled by his determination. He could do this! He would do this! he started his daily walk to the bridge, mind going over the different ways he could ask someone if they were okay.

“Firmus!” Max called, rushing to catch up to Piett. “Where have you been? You canceled on me twice.”

“I’m sorry Max, but this really isn’t a good time, I have work to do,” Piett said, still making his way towards the bridge.

“Bullshit!!” Max yelled, heads turning in there direction. “You finish all your work before it’s even assigned!!”

“Max, you’re making a scene,” Piett stopped, not expecting his friend to shout, he was usually very level-headed.

“Oh please,” Max sighed. “With the shit you’ve been doing what I’m doing hardly matters. We need to talk! Now.”

Max grabbed his arm and dragged Piett towards the maintenance room. When they arrived Max pushed inside and closed the door behind the both of them.

“What is it, Max?” Piett sighed.

“Vader ask for a report from you. You specifically!” Max scolded. “I told you to lay low! It’s like you want his attention.”

Piett hesitated.

“You do, don’t you,” Max said. “Firmus, what the fuck!? He’s going to kill you!”

“I disagree,” Piett replied, defensively.

“What do you mean you disagree?! All of two people are immune to Vader and one of them is the god damn Emperor!!”

He hesitated again, just hearing the Emperor’s name made him hateful.

“With all due respect, Max,” he began. “You can’t stop me.”

“Firmus!!” Max shouted after Piett as he left. Piett ignored him and finally made it to the bridge.

Well that whole situation definitely hadn’t help his morale, but Vader wouldn’t kill him, he knew that for certain… somehow. But now wasn’t the time to be thinking about that, he just need to get through his shift and initiate his plan. A lot of the crew had been over worked since the destruction of the Death Star, the entire fleet was focused on capturing the perpetrator, Skywalker. That was likely why Vader was so stressed as well, but they were very close to uncovering the rebel base, and Skywalker would be there with the rest of the rebels. Piett entered the bridge, started his work, though he had gotten most done early, and waited. It didn’t take long for a fellow officer to approach him.

“Captain,” they said. “Lord Vader requested a report from.”

Piett nodded and took the data-pad and began reading it while on the way towards Vader’s quarters. Oh my! He thought. We found it! The rebel base! The realization made him walk faster, Vader would be very pleased with this. He reached Vader’s chambers and, as usual, they opened before he could request access.

“Report, Captain,” Vader said, well, more like demanded.

“Sir, we’ve discovered signs of rebel activity in the Hoth system,” Piett began and continued, reciting the details of what they’d discovered.

“Set a course immediately,” Vader ordered. “And have General Veers prepare a ground assault.”

“Will do, sir,” Piett replied and hesitated to add on. “And one more thing, my Lord.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“I… I just wanted to ask, if you don’t mind, that is…” Come on, just say! “I was just wondering if you… were alright?”

Vader didn’t reply.

“You just seemed rather… stressed lately.”

Vader hesitated again. Oh no… Oh no! This was a mistake! I should’ve just mined my own business!!

“Your… concern is noted, Captain,” Vader spoke, finally. His voice less harsh than usual. “Rest assured, I am fine…”

Piett was shocked, Vader had actually answered, he couldn't’ stop smiling. “Very good, my Lord!”

“You are dismissed, Captain.”

Piett gave a quick ‘yes, sir’ and left, smiling all the way. Ozzel’s face when Piett relayed the orders was priceless, as was the other officer’s.

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Well, Piett was dead. There was no doubt in his mind, Vader was going to kill him. All that work, all that time, for nothing. Even Vader’s favor couldn’t save him from such a monumental mistake. After his sudden promotion to Admiral and the following victory at Hoth he truly thought he had made progress with Vader, but no. He let Skywalker escape, that’s a death sentence no matter who you are. And yet in the face of his own inevitable demise, Piett still couldn’t quell his worry for Vader. The man simply hadn’t been himself since they left Bespin, he almost seemed catatonic. By all accounts Piett should have been killed by now, but all Vader had done when he returned was briefly stare out the viewport and then leave. He hadn’t even spoken of Skywalker’s escape. 

Worry gnawed at Piett’s mind, this kind of behavior was completely unlike Vader. Piett wanted to check on him, even though it might get him killed.

Oh please, he thought. If Vader wanted me dead, I’d be dead.

Piett handed the bridge off and started making his way towards Vader’s quarters, his resolve having gathered. After all, his own mistakes did not negate his duty. It didn’t take long before the door appeared in his vision, a cold feeling permitting in the air. Oddly enough, the door didn’t open for him as it usually did. Piett stood there for a few minutes (perhaps Vader was simply busy) but eventually hit the button to request access. It took a few more minutes, but the door finally opened.

“My Lord?” Piett called as he entered. Vader was standing in front of the view port, looking out at the stars. “Sorry if I’m… intruding, but I-I just wanted to apologize. My failure at Bespin was completely unacceptable and I take full responsibility… My Lord…?”

Piett couldn’t hear Vader’s respirator, instead he heard the faint rattling of metal. Was Vader… trembling? 

“Are you alright…?” Vader flinched at the question and reached for his helmet, ripping it off and throwing it to the ground. He was hyper ventilating! 

“My Lord!!” Piett ran to him and helped him stay standing. He helped Vader towards his meditation chamber, and sat him down in his chair. Piett scrambled to the controls, trying to figure out which button closed the chamber. Vader beat him to it and closed it with the force. The man was still hyper ventilating but at least he wouldn’t suffocate.

“Look at me!” Piett settled his hands on Vader’s shoulders. “Breathe with me, alright?”

Piett breathed deeply until Vader mirrored his actions, eventually Vader calmed down but continued trembling. Piett removed his hands and gave him a few minutes to collect himself.

“May I ask what caused this, my Lord?” Piett asked.

“He is my son…” Vader mumbled quietly.

“Excuse me…?”

“Skywalker! He is my son and I h-hurt him.”

Fuck! What the fuck?! Vader has a son!? Piett thought. No, now is not the time be shocked! Vader needs support right now.

“We’ll find him again,” Piett began. “And then you can apologize.”

Vader stayed quiet for a while.

“Thank you, Admiral,” he sighed and looked away. He’d made that face again.

You deserve so much better, Piett thought. Vader looked at him with that face and Piett blushed. Right, he can hear my thoughts.

“Not a problem, my Lord,” Piett replied.

“You must never speak of this,” Vader demanded. “Do you understand?”

“Of course, my Lord. You’ve always had my full loyalty.”

“Good,” he sighed. He looked so tired.

“Can I kiss you?”

Vader flinched and looked over at Piett, shocked.

Fuck!! Why did I say that?!

“…yes…”

Piett was not expecting that, but he leaned regardless and kissed the man. It was rather quick and light, but it left Piett red in the cheeks anyway.

“Well I best be leaving now,” Piett said, embarrassed, and moved towards the exit of the pod, expect Vader to open it. “I still have work to do.” But Vader grabbed him gently by the arm and pulled Piett back.

“Stay…” No, not that look again. Piett couldn’t resist that face. “Please…”

Fuck…

“Alright,” he relented. “But I really do have work to do.”

“Oh, I am well aware,” Vader replied and Piett couldn’t help but smile. God, Max was going to kill him when he hears about this.

Piett got back to the bridge some time later, he had a feeling no expected him to come back alive. He was already in a good mode but the surprise on their faces only made it better. The shift after that had gone smoothly as they continued their search for Skywalker, now with new vigor. As he reached his newly acquired quarters he, of course, found Max waiting for him at the door. He looked somehow both very angry and very relieved at the same time.

“Firmus, where have you been?!” Max yelled. “You were gone from the bridge for an hour! I thought you were dead!”

“Well, as you can see, I am not dead,” Piett replied. “But I am very tired, so if you could jus-”

“No! Tell me where you’ve been, then you can sleep.”

Piett sighed. “Fine I was speaking with Lord Vader, are you happy now?”

“For an hour?!”

“Well, it was a very engaging conversation,” Piett explained.

“I swear, Firmus, I don’t understand how you haven’t died yet.”

“Maybe I’m just better than everyone else.”