Two Paths Diverge by Jedi Gepper It was time for another of the sporadic assemblies of Star Destroyers that occurred at the whim of Darth Vader, which was taken to mean the whim of the Emperor. Nearly twenty of the spear-shaped vessels were gathered for this meeting. The commanding officer of each of them was taking a shuttle over to the Executor, the fleet's flagship and command center of Lord Vader. This particular meeting was apparently related to Vader's increasing frustration, and consequent lashing out at subordinates, over the Empire's inability to catch up to and capture the hero in the destruction of the Death Star or any of the young starpilot's compatriots. The time spent spinning idly in his TIE Fighter after that battlestation's destruction and before Imperial help arrived had made the Dark Lord more than his usual level of dangerous. No one deigned to be anything but serious as they arrived at this particular meeting. This feeling of gravity applied to Captain Lorth Needa as much as to anyone, but something made him feel it all the more acutely. He could not pinpoint why, but he knew there was an intangible reason hanging in the air, and it was meant just for him. Being Captain of the Avenger was all that Needa had ever wanted, and as the Empire was currently run, he feared rising any higher in rank than that. Yes, he could be perfectly happy living out a long and laudable life as captain of that warship. Riding passively as a passenger in the shuttle as it neared a docking bay on the Executor, the sense of something meant for him became more ominous. He had not been particularly successful in finding the key, targeted Rebels, but at least he could console himself that he was no less successful than most of the captains attending the meeting on the task. Captain Needa resolutely decided to block these pestering negative thoughts from his head. Surely he could return to thoughts of his own ship again, his beloved Avenger. He was respected there. A few feared him, which Needa could not help but find amusing. Even in the stiffest of new uniforms, he did not think himself intimidating. Within the massive shuttle bay of the Executor, though, made Needa think for only a moment that promotion may not be sure a bad thing. This ship defined what it meant to be an Imperial. Who would not want to serve here? For only that same moment, Needa envied Captain Piett. Awaiting his fellow captains on the bridge of the Executor, Captain Piett discreetly saw to it that his tunic was still very straight and neat. He looked out of the main viewport to the tiny twinkling lights of nearby Star Destroyers, which appeared farther away than they actually were. He rarely looked in any other direction but out at these lights, but when he did it was with reason. If an officer in the pit so much as appeared off task, he received a withering stare that more than motivated him to reprioritize. Piett knew that he was not well liked for this, but he knew that, on some level, he was saving lives. Lord Vader has said, and demonstrated, on more than one occasion that he was not particularly forgiving. His reprimands obviously did not take the form of a glare, wearing a constantly ominous visage as he did, but they were usually far more harsh than anything Piett could mete out casually. This is how Piett had reached this point in his career. He had done so by anticipating Lord Vader's whims and acting ahead of them whenever possible. He had also doggedly, and more successfully, sought out and had destroyed more Rebel outposts than anyone in his position. For these reasons, and many others, Piett had become a captain. Not only that, Vader saw fit to make him a captain aboard his own flagship, the Super Star Destroyer Executor. More than one colleague had quietly warned Captain Piett about the well known risk of serving too closely with Lord Vader. These men were usually the first to taste his wrath, after all. Piett, though, saw only an opportunity. He assumed quite correctly that if he could read Vader as well as he believed, he could stay far clear of his anger and ingratiate himself to the Dark Lord at the same time. He had made his career out of reading people, information, and situations. More importantly, he was so very good at it. Piett had the mind to advance, the wherewithal to know when to step back or stay in place, and the confidence to know which to do at any given time. Life in the Empire may be dangerous for officers, but one could survive most things with a healthy ability to anticipate and react accordingly. Piett had these skills. That is why Captain Piett served on the Executor. He had earned it. Piett turned to receive the arriving officers. The bridge on this ship is enormous, Captain Needa thought. For all his achievements, Needa still found himself being awed quite easily. Several of the other officers were looking around them in much the same manner, or so it seemed. It was a rare occasion indeed that brought one aboard this ship. It was barely a minute after they all made it onto the bridge that the man before them, backed by the expansive viewports, turned towards them and began speaking. "I am Captain Piett," he said matter-of-factly, "Welcome aboard the Executor. A more extensive tour of the ship can be arranged when we close the meeting, should any of you desire it. We will proceed to the main conference room at this time where you will be presented to Lord Vader." Piett allowed a moment to let that thought soak into the minds of the officers. Needa felt his jaw muscles tighten. He was starting to feel a sense of guilt. Why was that? He once again tried to shake it off. Lord Vader. They were meeting Lord Vader. No, that made the feeling worse. "You will remain standing behind your chairs in the conference room until after Lord Vader has seated himself. If he remains standing, you will do the same. Should he wish to ask any of you any questions, respond as your officer training taught you. Lord Vader appreciates precision and protocol." Piett paused briefly. "Do not disappoint him. This way, please." Captain Piett stepped forward and walked straight through the assembled group. They parted to either side and then followed him. Captain Needa tried to stay as near the middle of the group as he could, hoping to stay anonymous. Wait a moment. Had he not heard something about Lord Vader being able to read minds? Rumor, he was sure, but it was hardly one he wanted to test. They entered the large room, oval in shape. Each officer chose a chair, stood relatively still behind it, and awaited the arrival of Darth Vader. Amateurs, Piett thought. For all their affectations of nonchalance, Captain Piett could read all of their nervousness, their curiosity, even a level of fear. If he could see it in their faces and body language in general, just imagine what Vader would sense from their minds. Piett sometimes thought he may like to have some of Vader's supposed Force ability, but then thought better of it. The challenge of using only one's mind was far more intriguing to him. Piett stood off to the side of the door. He could hear the measured and recognizable tread of Vader's boots approaching. Someone came with him, a second set of boots walked more hurriedly and slightly ahead of Vader. This second person was clearly having difficulty staying ahead of Vader's long stride but was trying not to show it. It showed anyway, at least in Piett's mind. How did Lord Vader put up with Admiral Ozzel anyhow? The man was so clearly out of his league, driven by an unreasonable and utterly baseless sense of his own importance. Piett, of course, kept these thoughts to himself, but even he could not disguise his feelings towards Admiral Ozzel when the two officers were away from the Dark Lord. Admiral Ozzel entered first. He just had enough time to announce the following.: "Assembled Captains: I present to you Lord Vader." Admiral Ozzel stepped out of the way, nearly running Piett over had the captain not been bright enough to see it coming and sidestepped the collision. That moment Vader appeared before the group. His boots and helmet gleamed, his cape flowed and then stopped as he halted. He certainly did cut an impressive figure, Piett admitted to himself. If it were not for the presence of Admiral Ozzel, this assignment under Lord Vader alone would be perfect. There he was, the Dark Lord Darth Vader. Captain Needa doubted absolutely nothing he had ever heard about Vader as he stood so respectfully before him. It was all true: the temper, the intimidation, the effectiveness of his command. Despite the obvious honor of standing here before him, Needa found himself hoping he would never look upon him in person again. Needa thought back on so much of what he knew and had heard about Vader. It was said that since the death of Grand Moff Tarkin aboard the battlestation, Vader enjoyed more free rein than ever. Only the distant and rarely seen Emperor commanded him, and apparently he allowed Vader almost all the control he could desire. After a few moments of sweeping the room with his helmeted head, Vader first spoke before the assembled group, but not to them. "Admiral Ozzel, Captain Piett," he began, "you may leave. This does not concern you at this time." Needa observed that the admiral appeared surprised. Piett only nodded curtly and assented. "As you wish, My Lord." Piett said. He eyed Ozzel just enough to convince the admiral to leave the room. Piett followed him out. Vader now turned to speak to the officers. "You have been assembled here on my orders to discuss our progress in uncovering the latest Rebel base. So far, I am most displeased with the lack of success in this regard, and I hold all of you here responsible for that." While everyone attempted to keep their eyes looking into the black voids that were Vader's own, some could not help but look away under his imagined glare. Needa was not one of them. His stare was locked on Vader almost against his will. He was sure the Dark Lord was speaking directly to him. "I am having probe droids prepared for delivery to each of your Star Destroyers. You will despatch these probes in the sectors where you will be assigned from here. You will analyze any and all data, however seemingly insignificant, gathered from them, and it will be reported to the Executor. Should I find that anything has been withheld for any reason, there will be no limit to my punishment." Vader paused, allowing this very straightforward but deadly serious information to settle into the officers. He then proceeded. "We will find these Rebels, especially Skywalker, soon. Should any of you be responsible for the discovery, the reward will be beyond your expectations. Failure, however, is as I have explained." He paused again. "Is this clear?" A long silence. No one dared ask a question, even if he had one. It was not as if the directions were that difficult to understand anyway. "Very well. You are dismissed. Return to your vessels as soon as possible and begin the search." One more pause. "Do not fail me." With that, Vader turned briskly and exited the room. The door shut behind him before one of the captains even dared to move…or breathe again. Captain Piett stood several meters down the corridor as the short meeting occurred. Admiral Ozzel paced before him testily. "Why am I not involved in this meeting?" the admiral asked aloud, "Am I not the highest ranking officer aboard this ship?" "Lord Vader technically outranks you, sir," Piett noted, "He is free to exclude you from meetings." And most decisions as well, Piett added to himself. "Nonetheless, I should be included. With Grand Moff Tarkin dead, Vader is out of control!" "Lord Vader, sir," Piett corrected. "Were you to call him 'Vader' to his face, I would not envy you." "Do you think me so stupid as to do that, captain?" Admiral Ozzel stopped and faced Piett directly. The captain stared back. "Of course not, admiral," he replied coolly, "I was simply pointing it out." "You may state the obvious to Lord Vader, if you like, but not to me. Is that understood?" "Perfectly, sir." Ozzel narrowed his eyes at Piett, then resumed his pacing. Piett watched him quietly. Ozzel really was a twit. Captain Piett spent the remaining time in the corridor pondering how exactly Ozzel had attained, and maintained for that matter, the rank of admiral while Ozzel cursed and complained under his breath as if the captain were no longer there. Ozzel stopped mid-step and resumed a formal stance as Darth Vader came striding out of the room. We passed the admiral with nary an acknowledgement. Ozzel fell into step behind the Dark Lord, Piett behind him. The captain heard his colleagues from the meeting exiting the room. No voices were heard, and he suspected that no one would take him up on his offer to tour the Executor. Piett surmised that a new mission was in hand, and not a single one of those captains wanted to delay its commencement. "Captain Piett." It was Darth Vader speaking as he continued to walk purposefully back to the bridge. "Yes, My Lord?" "See to it that the assembled captains all have the cargo I have prepared for them placed securely aboard their shuttles for deployment from their Star Destroyers." "Yes, My Lord." "Admiral Ozzel. You are to come with me to the bridge. At 0800 tomorrow we will be dispatching probe droids in this system, and I want the coordinates ready well before launch." "I will see to it, My Lord." "You will indeed, Admiral. Captain Piett, proceed to the main docking bay." "Aye, My Lord." Piett broke off from the group and headed towards the task at hand. So, this was the new plan. Vader truly was getting anxious to capture these Rebels if we would expend this much energy and resources for probe droids. Very interesting. This Skywalker fellow must be very valuable indeed. Captain Needa watched as the large cargo containers were loaded unto the shuttle. Probe droids were such an expense. Needa did his best to be conservative with his resources aboard the Avenger. This Skywalker would undoubtedly be flattered by such effort placed on finding him, but Needa was willing to bet that being terrified would be a more valid and likely response. Needa was pretty terrified himself right now. That last bit about not failing really hit him. It was at this moment as he stared rather blankly at the shuttle loading ramp, lost in thought, that a voice broke his concentration. "Your shuttle is ready, sir." Needa jolted back to reality to observe that the cargo ramp had indeed retracted back into the ship, and the start-up sequence could be heard. Needa thanked the young ensign and proceeded to the shuttle's entry ramp. He glanced back towards the main entrance to the bay to see Captain Piett keeping a watchful eye on the proceedings. Captain Needa could only dream of having such a calm and collected demeanor as Captain Piett. To think that man served every day under Lord Vader, and he did not seem at all ruffled. Should the time come for Captain Needa to call on that kind of resolve, he could only hope that he could do it. As Captain Piett observed the hurried but well organized packing, the humming of the start-up sequences, and finally the shuttles leaving the docking bay, he amused himself with wondering which Star Destroyer would be the first to flush out the Rebels. He hoped it would be the Executor, of course. That left him with an unpleasant thought, though. Admiral Ozzel would undoubtedly take the credit whether it was his to have or not. Admiral Ozzel. There really were moments when Piett could honestly tell himself that he wished the spineless admiral were dead. With Ozzel gone, however, Vader's easiest target for revenge became Captain Piett himself. An ascension to admiral may not be worth that risk at this time, at least not until Vader had his Rebels in custody, particularly Skywalker. Yes, Piett knew that he could keep stay in control of his own situation just as long as the insipid Ozzel was there as a shield, deflecting any negative attention from Piett himself. The only thing that made Captain Piett in the slight bit nervous was the thought of nothing standing between himself and Vader's wrath. For that situation alone, Piett was not sure that he could assure his own success or even survival. If only Admiral Ozzel could keep himself from doing anything too overtly idiotic until these Rebels were defeated, Piett felt secure. Security, after all, was all for which one could really hope in the Empire these days. Piett knew also that to have that security, it was every man for himself, the glory of the Empire notwithstanding. Captain Piett would serve in the name of the glory, but for survival only to himself.

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