Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Agent Del Meeko from the Inferno Squad never thought he would team up with the greatest enemy of the Empire, Luke Skywalker. But here he was stuck with him in the cave full of Scritters on Pillio. The bugs were everywhere, and when they were hit, they exploded with orange liquid, which was not as bad as their swarm, which attacked anything that was not an insect. The Jedi cut him from Scritter’s amber, where his arm was stuck, and Meeko was already making peace with the maker and getting ready to be devoured by the swarm of Scritters.
The uneasy truce was made. The Emperor's Observatory would not be completely destroyed. Setting the autodestruction would put a blow to the Pillio ecosystem. Luke Skywalker not only saved him but also made him question the Empire’s motives. The vault smelled of dust and decay. The hum of machines sounded wrong beneath layers of corrosion. Something was wrong. The emergency lights were weak, and the darkness around them concealed rows of sealed containers bearing imperial crests. The chittering of distant critters was not helping Meeko to relax. He saw what the Jedi were capable of, but also knew about nasty surprises that imperial vaults could produce. Luke Skywalker lowered his lightsaber, but kept it lit. The soft green glow helped guide them along the narrow path between crates to the control room. Meeko held his blaster ready, eyes darting between sealed containers and Skywalker.

“The Empire had many projects, most unused biological weapons, chemical horrors, and disasters like Operation Cinder could be in those crates,” Meeko said, pointing at a biohazard-marked crate labeled ISD Vector. Half-rotted flimsi warned against opening it.

“Destroying the vault could unleash these into the atmosphere. We must seal the Emperor's Observatory without harming this planet again,” Luke said, trying not to dwell on the sinister feel. Decay here was more than weathering.

“We must seal this place. Permanently. Nothing gets in and nothing gets out,” Agent Meeko voices Luke’s idea on how to deal with this wretched place.

Suddenly, from the shadows above, a smooth and mocking, yet unmistakably human, male voice with a crisp Coruscanti accent made both the Jedi and the Agent nearly jump. To his horror, Luke realized he sensed no other human presence except the Imperial Agent beside him.

“Two trespassers in the imperial vault. The Jedi and the traitor.” The petite figure jumped down from stacks of crates, landing softly behind them. Both spun to face the stranger. Meeko swung his blaster toward the sound. Luke raised his lightsaber defensively. The green light revealed the approaching man. He was a bit taller than Luke’s sister, dressed in well-tailored dark grey civilian clothes with light brown hair tied back in a loose cloth. What caught Luke’s attention were his eyes hazel with a yellow glimmer in their pupils. Meeko had mentioned hidden dangers in the vault, but perhaps even the janitor was strange.

“You have got to be kidding me…this…this is Admiral Piett. You’re supposed to be dead!” Meeko stared at the man. It was Piett. The slight frame and rat-like features matched, but those eyes looked wrong. Del’s stomach dropped for a heartbeat. He remembered the holo of the Executor’s fiery crash, supposedly killing everyone aboard, including Piett. The same man now stood before them. Del recalled Admiral Piett from mission debriefings—always quiet, polite, and forgettable, except to Admiral Versio and Admiral Sloane, who showed respect and even, to Del’s surprise, admiration. Versio only respected the Emperor, so this was odd. Later, Del learned from Versio that Firmus Piett had completed many classified missions and kept a low profile around those unaware.

“You remember me. How flattering,” Piett smiled, showing rows of perfect, sharp teeth as he observed both men. His nose occasionally flared; the Jedi’s scent was nauseating like a corpse that needed removal. The biot modification was from the forgotten Clone Wars era: a Yuuzhan Vong Shaper exiled by his kin had offered the Separatists a Jedi weapon enhanced with biot technology. The Vong selected children for experiments, and Piett was the only survivor. Piett had since erased all evidence and witnesses, sometimes taking his time. Now, the hardwired instinct roared in his head: kill the Jedi.

“You’re… you’re not supposed to be here. You went down with the flagship. Every record says you were aboard the Executor. I saw the holos of your demise.” Agent Meeko berated himself for being stunned by the man before him. The polite, soft-spoken officer he remembered was now someone ready to kill.

“Supposed to be dead,” Piett said, voice like sand. “Would’ve been cleaner for everyone. For me. But instincts die hard. Sometimes, all that’s left is hate for Jedi, and everything they stand for.” The grin faded, his eyes locked on Luke, calculating and cold.

Luke carefully studied the man before them. Two LW-896 Blaster Pistols hung at his hips, and a vibro-machete was strapped to his back. Clearly, this man expected trouble. There was a coiled stillness about him a predator’s restraint. Luke reached out with the Force to sense more about the supposedly dead Admiral. The Force revealed nothing: Piett was a blank space, a silence. This absence felt at odds with what Luke saw. He slowly lowered his lightsaber and stepped forward.

“Enough,” his voice was quiet but firm.

Piett stepped away from approaching Luke to be closer to the air vent and be spared a little from the stench emanating from Jedi, otherwise ignoring him.

“Agent Del Meeko, am I right? How is Admiral Versio? You serve under Versio, don’t you? Inferno Squad: loyal, disciplined, one of the best black ops teams I have ever encountered,” Piett fired off questions, not really expecting answers; Meeko was irrelevant. The two men still pointing weapons at him frayed his nerves. “You of all people should understand surviving dire situations.”

“Stay back,” Meeko lifted his blaster higher. In an instant, Piett blurred forward. The blaster was ripped from Meeko’s hand and sent clattering across the floor. Piett didn't even look at it. His gaze was locked on the Jedi who held his lightsaber in a defensive position. Waiting.

Del cursed, flexing aching fingers Piett’s grip was iron. “Whatever you are, you’re not the officer I remembered. Not human, not anymore," Del rasped.

“It is complicated, Agent Meeko. Now, be a good boy and stay put. I have a Jedi to talk with,” Piett barked, then his voice changed into a deep purr. “Who are you, Jedi? You smell differently from those I have killed in the past. Your smell is weaker, but still the smell of a rotting carcass. Do you know what it is like to stand this close to a Jedi and not sink your teeth in?”

Luke wanted to say that the feelings are mutual. The Force flowed through all living things; even stone had some signature in the Force, but this man had none. Vader, no, Anakin, no, his father warned him about such a creature in his last moments, even if he considered Admiral Piett to burn with his flagship. Luke took a deep breath and powered down the lightsaber, ignoring Meeko’s shocked expression. It was time to set things right. For his father. For this creature in front of him.

“You think Darth Vader betrayed you,” it was out, and it had the effect Luke expected. Piett froze on the spot. His pupils flared yellow. Luke paused for a moment, letting the shock settle. “I am Luke Skywalker. I am his son, and I was with him to the end.”

“He spoke about you, Jedi, how disappointed he was in you. You stuck to the Light Side, while he wanted to show you the Dark Side. He had ways and plans for you,” Piett said slowly. He disliked it when Vader was talking about his son, not that he was jealous that Vader’s feelings were focused not only on Piett, but also on his son. He was angry because he considered Vader’s approach foolish. Children had the right to choose their path independently of their parents. On the other hand, parents have the right to erase a mistake and start fresh.

“You think he backstabbed you. Left you to die with your ship,” Luke continued, searching Piett’s face for any emotion aside from the focused predator before lashing out. “But you are wrong. He believed you were already dead. He couldn’t sense you. Because you tossed the ring he gave you in his face.”

Luke’s words cut Piett sharper than any blade. His expression cracked. From a predator ready to kill, he changed to a predator chased into a corner.

“No,” Piett shook his head.” We had a spat. Bad one. He ordered me into that idiotic plan I was opposing, because he wanted to pick you up from Endor surface and bring you to the Emperor for you to realize something, which he never considered to disclose to me. He chose Palpatine’s madness over me. Over the imperial victory. Over the lives of every man and woman under my command. I tossed that blasted thing to him to keep it and give it to you! When Palpatine’s glorious plan failed, he left me with the unsalvageable wreckage.”

“He loved you,” Luke ignored Agent Meeko, who was probably thinking some crate got damaged and they were poisoned by psychedelic gas.”Agen Meeko, go to the control room and wait there. I will come in a moment.” To Luke’s relief, Meeko nodded sharply, trotted to his blaster, and continued in the direction of the control room.

“He knows too much already,” Piett whispered and looked after him. Finger twitching about his blaster pistol.

“I will…make sure he will not remember that he saw you,” Luke quickly reassured Piett in order not to have the corpse of a friendly Imperial Agent in his hands. “You know I can do it. You lived with the Force User.”

“Yes, I saw Vader tampering with the minds,” Piett relaxed, even if he didn't trust the Jedi.

“He loved you. My father told me, before he died. He thought you were gone, and it broke something in him. That was why he turned on the Emperor. Not for me. Not for my sister. For you. Only for you.” The silence that followed was heavy as Luke’s words settled. Then it crumbled. Piett’s breathing changed into harsh and uneven if something was choking him. His fingers were twitching by his side. He looked suddenly unsteady, small, and lost.

“He … he … told you that he loved me?” The words came out hoarse and disbelieving.

“He did. He thought you went down with the Executor. He blamed himself for your last quarrel. He told me you were right and he was wrong and paid the price. He carried that grief into his last moments. And it was that grief in which he found his way back to the light.” Luke reached slowly into his tunic and grasped a ring that was hanging on the chain around his neck, and with a sharp pull, he broke it free. He opened his palm with it and offered it to Piett to take. Piett staggered back a step as the floor itself tilted beneath him. His eyes shone strangely; there was a soft, yellow glow from his pupils, but they were wet with something more fragile. Rage and loss tangled in his face. He gingerly reached for the ring, and Luke stepped closer so Piett could take it. When Piett slipped the ring onto his finger, the void in the Force disappeared, and Luke felt a faint human Force signature. Bland.

“All the time…” Piett’s voice broke, low and bitter. “I thought he was my ruin after he finally made me love him unconditionally. That he chose to abandon me.”

“He didn't abandon you, Admiral. He thought he lost you, because he was selfish and strong-headed, ignoring your opinion.” Luke clasped his lightsaber at his belt. He knew Piett would not kill him or Agent Meeko. Piett was there, shaking with emotion, cursing through him, but as it came, it went. Finally, with sharp motion, he turned away.

“I can not, “ Piett swallowed the rest, forcing his usual blandness into his tone. “No matter whose fault it was. I lost the battle. I lost my man. I lost my ship. I have no place with your New Republic, after all, I am a war criminal. Or the shattered remnants of the Empire. My nature made me restless. Nomadic. I belong nowhere after my Vader is gone.” He strode to the console. His fingers were flying across the controls. Holo screen filled with data. Names, files, histories vanishing forever. When he finished slicing, the system was blank. He erased everything about himself, including his dossier and inventions.

“I was never here. You never saw me, Skywalker. Make sure Meeko doesn't remember me.” He glanced over his shoulder, a flicker of raw hurt barely concealed. “And if you value your life and the lives of those close to you, don't follow.” With that, Piett slipped back into the shadows, leaving only silence. Luke tried to follow him, but he was too fast, jumping from crate to crate and finally disappearing into a dark corridor. He went to check on Meeko, who was sitting nervously behind the console at the control center.

“I thought you were dead,” Meeko said with relief when he saw Luke.

“Almost, another swarm of Scritters nearly got me.” It was time to fulfil his promise to Vader’s Admiral. “There was nothing else but swarms of Scritters and me and you. I sent you to the control center to check how this place could be sealed.”

Meeko blinked. Blinked again. Shook his head and looked at the control panel.

“I think we should detonate the rock above the entrance, and the avalanche would seal it perfectly. This place is protected from sensor sweep, and rocks with local flora will make sure that nobody would find the blasted vault.”

“Let's do it,” Luke agreed, and they were walking out. When they finally reached the fresh air outside. Luke noticed an IPV-2C Stealth Corvette darting towards the sky.

Chapter Text

Luke hated Mustafar. This planet was shrouded in darkness and teeming with death. This was also the place his father chose for his home. The castle was abandoned, even though the Mustafarians did not dare to venture close to it. Luke powered the last of the defensive grid and walked to the main hall. His steps eerily echoed as he walked deeper. He told himself he had come here for the records, to solve so many unanswered questions about his father and the Jedi Order. He let the Force lead him to the depths of the castle. He found concealed blast doors. R2-D2 managed to crack the code, and after a while, they opened. It was an apartment made for somebody Vader held dear. The place was covered with dust. The officer’s uniform jacket was tossed over the chair with an Admiral rank plaque. The pile of datapads covers the table. Luke took the nearest datapad, and when he touched it, it came to life. Projecting dozens of tiny holos in the air, each only a few seconds long. Luke randomly selected one of them and gasped. Nothing got him prepared for what he saw.

Piett was half asleep in the nest of rumpled blankets, hair mussed. He lazily reached toward the unseen recorder. The deep baritone, Vader’s voice said. “You look at peace.” Piett laughed quietly. “You trashed me to submission, what do you think?”

Luke blushed and quickly pressed another one.

Piett in uniform at the desk, surrounded by the holos with running data, no doubt plotting something. Muttering to himself. Suddenly, he looked up at the holo camera and smirked:”Still spying, my lord?”

The next was taken outdoors on Mustafar’s lava field. Piett, in light gear, was stalking something off-screen. A burst of movement, a huge lava lizard lunging, and then Piett’s shout of laughter as he rolled aside and drove the blade home. When he looked into the camera, he was grinning like a madman. “ I told you I would arrange dinner.”

Each holo was short, intimate, almost careless. Moments caught and kept, Piett brushing his teeth, eating at a console. His sharp laughter and good natured banter with his father. Little pieces of an ordinary life lived beside the impossible. It was like watching ghosts learning how to be human.

Luke reached out and touched one of the holos. Piett is sitting cross-legged, sketching lines on a datapad. The image trembled around his finger and then dissolved.

For the first time, Luke felt pity for both of them.