Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or Star Wars.

Leia and Luke's Uncle Owen showed up around six, mostly because his wife wasn't home yet and he was starving.

"Beru, where's Darth? Isn't he home yet?" Uncle Owen asked, not even bothering to knock as he came through the Skywalkers' side door into the kitchen.

"Nope," Beru called. "Not even a phone call, all day. Luke's been okay. Leia had a rough day in school, so I'm making her some comfort food that we can eat while watching a sappy movie."

"Well, if that's what you're making, it's my dinner," Owen smiled.

Meanwhile, the Emperor was having a coronary over RebelCorp. All day, the memos hadn't stopped coming: Harrison Solo (father of Han) was rumored to be the investors' pick for CEO of RebelCorp. Darth and his team had better do well in their meeting with the buyers, or it was someone's head on a platter. The company needed to expand and hire more salespeople, to try and outsell RebelCorp. The designers' new ideas had better be super-innovative, or they'd be terminated. And so on.

"Vader, we have a meeting!" Jones exploded into Darth's office at about two that afternoon. "The Emperor's had a coronary or a stroke or something like that. He might never work again. Someone needs to run the company until they appoint a new CEO."

Darth dashed into the Imperial Conference Room, crossing his fingers. It was decided that the company would function without a CEO for now, until they learned what the Emperor's status was. Until then, everybody had better follow his vision. They needed to be bigger and better than RebelCorp.

But Darth had a pang of guilt every time he looked at the picture on the edge of his desk. It was a snapshot of the twins as babies: Luke in a blue onesie and Leia in a pink one. Leia had drooled all over herself, but it didn't bother Lukey. He had wrapped his arms around his sister in the cutest little hug imaginable. Both little ones were wide-eyed and staring at the camera.

He would pick up the phone to call Beru and ask if everything was all right. But then another calamity occurred, and he'd have to put the phone down and race out of the office.

"Sir, it's past five o' clock," C3P0, a droid who functioned as Darth's personal assistant, said a little after five as he entered Darth's office. Only at a robotics company was it cool to have actual droids working as personal assistants. "May I suggest you call home and tell the family you'll be working overtime?"

"I'll only be here for a few more minutes," was Darth's reply as he scribbled out a new report.

There was a beeping from the outer office as R2D2, another EmpireCorp droid, beeped out a message for C3PO.

"And Artoo says the Imperial Men's Room is out of order," C3PO reported sadly.

"DAMNATION! Don't make me kill you!" Darth Vader growled through his respirator.

Darth finally made it home around seven that evening. Luke was in bed with a cold compress on his forehead. Leia was eating Aunt Beru's macaroni and cheese while watching some soap opera that Aunt Beru had recorded with TiVO.

"Leia, honey, how about you go to your room and do your homework? Take your dinner with you. We can watch the rest after you finish, okay? We can even have some ice cream." Aunt Beru sounded nervous; Leia knew exactly why her aunt wanted her out of the room.

As soon as Leia made it to her room, she made a point of shutting her door loudly, but then opened it as quietly as she could to hear what was going on in the living room.

"Darth, where have you been?" Sure enough, Aunt Beru was cursing out the twins' father in the living room. "I didn't know I had to make the kids dinner!"

"The blasted Emperor had a coronary, so I had to work overtime. Every time I tried to call, something else came up!"

"I don't care if the Emperor has a coronary!" Uncle Owen was yelling. "When you have sick son, shouldn't Luke be more important?"

"Luke! How is the little starkiller?"

"He's fine," Aunt Beru cut in. "But he could use some support from his father, especially when his lungs are trying to drain. And poor Leia was crying. I've never seen the poor darling so upset!"

"Why is Leia crying? Is that Solo kid picking on her again?"

Aunt Beru rolled her eyes.

"Damn, Anakin, you don't even know your own children, do you?" Uncle Owen yelled. "I know you're trying to support the family, but these kids need a father!"

"My name isn't Anakin. My name is Darth," Darth replied, trying not to lose his temper with his stepbrother.

"Well, listen," Aunt Beru snapped. "If you can't take care of your own children, Owen and I, we're going to adopt them ourselves!"

"YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!" Darth yelled.

"We do if they're being neglected!"

"My children aren't being neglected!"

"Have you even talked to them lately? Maybe they DO feel like they're being neglected," Uncle Owen snapped. "Come on, Beru, we're going home. Hopefully Anakin can look after his own household now that he's finally home."

"MY NAME IS NOT ANAKIN!" Darth yelled as his in-laws left.

Up Next: Han Loses His Mind