The Executor slid silently through the stars, a symbol of the Empire's power, the greatest since the destruction of the Death Star. It was an unforgiving behemoth, quick to dismantle anything that crossed it's master's will. On the outside, it was a staggering eleven-mile long giant. On the inside it was cold and sleek. The halls were direct and unadorned, polished alusteel gleaming proudly as officers and troops worked within for the glory of the the Galactic Empire.

General Veers walked down these halls with a spring in his step and a stack of small envelopes in his hand, a quiet hum escaping him as he went. Finally, at the end of the hall, he came to a stop, turned to the door on his right and, taking a small magnet from his pocket, pinned up one of his envelopes. He proceeded to move backward up the hallway, pausing to repeat the action at each door.

Admiral Piett emerged from one of these and stopped, confused by the music floating quietly through the air. No one, to his knowledge, went through the Empire's greatest battleship humming. Slowly he turned to investigate, and he hardly managed a response to the fact that Veers, of all people, was the source. He tilted his head. "Are you...humming Christmas carols?" he asked, walking over curiously.

"Of course, it's Christmastime, isn't it?"

The bluntness of the statement struck Piett dumb for a moment. "I suppose..."

"You suppose?" Veers looked to him sidelong and raised an eyebrow.

"You're just the last person I'd expect to be celebrating Christmas."

"Oh, nonsense," he replied, shaking his head.

"My thoughts exactly..." he muttered with a quiet, wry chuckle.

"Just what is so amusing about Christmas?"

"Ironic, isn't it?"

The general's brow furrowed. "Christmas ironic?"

"Christmas is the one day of the year we're supposed to be with our families and friends, toasting a cup of good cheer to everyone, and yet here we sit, blasting each other to smithereens a million miles from home on a warship." He shook his head.

Veers stopped his pinning for a moment and stared at his comrade. "My goodness, you are a downer, aren't you? Come now, it's Christmastime; at least try to have a bit of cheer!" he cried, returning to his task.

Piett only shook his head, bemused. "What in the galaxy are you doing anyway?"

"Pinning up Christmas cards." He held one out to him. "Here." But he changed his mind and withdrew it. "...No, never mind; I want you to read yours later." He continued on his way instead and quietly resumed his humming.

Piett followed along for a bit, too curious, perhaps, for his own good, and watched him, amused that he seemed to be handing these things out to everybody, including the people he outright disliked.

"You're a rather lovely tenor."

Piett blinked and turned to him. "What?"

"Didn't you notice? You've been humming along for the last verse or so!"

"Oh, rubbish."

"You have, and you are." There was a note of finality in the statement.

Piett opened his mouth to protest, but the name on the next card stopped him short. "Lord Vader? You've made a card for Lord Vader? General, have you gone mad?"

"What in heavens do you mean?" Piett looked to him incredulously. "I see no reason why he doesn't deserve a bit of Christmas as well."

The admiral raised both eyebrows, yet again bemused. "If he doesn't want this, you're done for. So will end the tale of General Veers."

"Nonsense." Just as he spoke, the Sith Lord came around the corner, and before the admiral could stop him, Veers jumped at the chance. "Ah! Lord Vader!" He was loud enough, thought Piett, for the entire ship to hear. "I was just looking for you. Here." He handed him the envelope.

The admiral hung back, wanting to keep his distance as the general faced his final moments. He didn't want to be next.

Vader took the envelope and considered it for a moment, turning it over in his hand. "What is this?"

"It's a Christmas card, m'lord. After all, we're headed into December now."

The Dark Lord stood silently for a few moments, staring at the item in his hand. "Thank you," he said simply. He then continued on his way.

Veers watched him go and then turned around to face the admiral with a smug smile. "Ha!" he cried as he headed over, "and double ha, my friend." He continued his pinning.

Piett only shook his head. "I don't understand; I thought you were done for. I was certain he was going to squeeze the life from your throat."

Veers looked to him with a frown. "Nonsense, it's Christmas! This is no time for strangulation."

Again the admiral could only shake his head. "Yes, well, you know that, and I know that, and, General I'd even wager that he knows that, but to be perfectly honest, I rather doubt he cares."

The general didn't look at him as he spoke, continuing on. "Oh, balderdash, he has a heart too, you know."

Piett looked off, for a moment, to where the Sith Lord had disappeared. "That is debatable, and you had better not let him hear that you think so," he warned.

Veers grinned a bit. "Admiral I think I already have."

Piett looked to him for a moment, worried not only for his mental health, but also his physical well being. "I would tread carefully if I were you," he remarked quietly, turning to go.

To this the general responded simply with a chuckle.