Join the Empire, they said. Achieve glory, they said. Piett thought furiously as he jimmied the lock on the window of the darkened apartment. Sit through an exam you don't understand and interact with Darth Vader's kid in a way he won't find weird with Vader breathing in my ear, they did not say!
Then again, had anyone told him that's what his life would end up like this, he wouldn't have believed them.
The window lock clicked open easily, and Vader grumbled in his ear, "This is unacceptable, anyone could break in and cause harm to Luke!
"Um. Lord Vader. We are breaking in."
"Yes, but I am his father. That does not count."
Piett wondered why Lord Vader didn't just get to know his son like a normal person. But then again, his superior officer was obviously not the most...astute person when it came to forming social and apparently familial bonds. Still, Piett figured pointing this out would end with him dead the moment this mission was over, so he dropped it and slipped through.
His feet touched almost silently into a cramped common area space, and he immediately gagged. "Stars, what the hell is that smell?"
"Turn on your torch, I can't see anything!" Vader demanded, and breathing through his mouth, Piett did so.
The immediate room itself contained a couch with holes exposing the stuffing inside and it sagged in the middle, as if threatening to collapse at the slightest breeze. A few hard backed chairs flanked it, and a small flatscreen sat in the room. An old hologame system was hooked up, and it looked used frequently with the controllers still hooked up, their wires tangled. The games ranged from pod racing games, to retro flight simulators, to first person shooters set during the Clone Wars.
"I would not have guessed Luke was a gamer…" Vader mused, and it was so odd to hear him sound almost curious.
Piett tried to imagine Vader playing video games...and honestly, it wasn't the strangest situation. At this point, he'd believe it. "Maybe it's his roommates? He did say he had one." Stars, he hoped the roommate didn't come back, let alone Luke…
"Perhaps…" Vader reluctantly agreed.
Other than the old couch, though, there was nothing that could explain the stench. Perhaps the couch was moldy? It was too dark to tell, and Piett didn't dare risk turning on the light. So, with that room explored, they entered the smallest kitchen Piett had ever seen.
And he immediately found the source of the smell.
It was obvious that Luke and his roommate tried their best to keep the kitchen clean, but there were some obvious things wrong with the kitchen that made any amount of cleanliness almost worthless. The ceiling tiles were missing, exposing pipes that were corroded and apparently had leak issues, because there were multiple temporary fixes. Wires threaded through the pipes in an attempt to organize them, but the fact that the wiring of the apartment was showing at all was a serious problem. There were serious water stains that even in the dim light of his torch he could see. He was also half sure the dingy fridge barely worked.
"What is that boy thinking?!" Vader fumed in his ear, "This apartment is a health hazard and should be condemned!"
"Unfortunately, My Lord, most universities take advantage of students who don't come from money." Technically, Luke did come from money, though the poor kid didn't know it. He had a sneaking suspicion that Vader was about to change that, and somehow it would involve him. "Luke likely didn't have many better options."
There was a silence in which he only listened to Vader's breathing. Then, "Look in the drawers. Find a landlord name. At the very least, he will be fixing his establishment or I will visit him personally!"
Piett held back a sigh, knowing that meant he'd be paying the landlord a visit, and began searching the drawers. There weren't many, and eventually he found a stack of rental contract paperwork.
"He's paying how much a month for rent?!" Vader fumed, "For this dump?! Nevermind, add whoever this Jankor Pat is to the list of people you'll need to make disappear!"
There was a list now?
"My Lord, Luke may suspect something if everyone who even slightly inconveniences him dies." He hoped that would work.
It did not.
"It is for his own good, he will get over it! It is criminal to force anyone to pay that much for this dump!"
Piett hesitated. "It...actually is legal, My Lord."
A silence. "Well it should not be!"
Piett...didn't know what to say to that. "So...you definitely want me to kill the landlord?"
"I suppose not. But you will teach him a lesson he will not forget and make sure he fixes this rancor pit!"
Well. At least he wouldn't have to kill another person related to Luke. Yet.
Except he thought that too soon. He moved down a cramped hallway, past a bathroom that wasn't in much better shape, and when Vader saw that, he apparently decided to change his mind. "No. Kill him. We have torture cells that have better conditions than this!" Piett personally thought that was an exaggeration. " I will arrange for clean up. Contact me when it's done."
"It will be done, My Lord."
Piett was certain Vader didn't know the meaning of stealth, at this point. Luke was definitely going to at least start suspecting that Piett had something to do with all of his disappearing acquaintances.
Carefully, he entered a bedroom. Thankfully, it was empty of occupants, but the floor was completely covered with discarded clothes.
"This isn't….Luke's room, is it?" Vader asked, and he genuinely sounded dismayed by the mess. Given his health condition and the fact that he'd been living a military life for who knew how long, Piett figured Vader was expecting a bit better from his son.
But after some snooping, Piett found a stack of business textbooks. "Unless Luke is double majoring in business, I don't think this is his room."
"Thank the Force," Vader muttered as quietly as he probably could, "Leave this room immediately. I do not care for whoever is rooming with Luke, other than the fact that they are obviously not a good influence."
Piett didn't know how to respond to that, given that Luke, despite his extremely youthful appearance, was still technically an adult. He seemed a bit old to have his father worrying about his influences. But he didn't love being in the roommate's room anyway, so he rushed to comply.
Vader checked the readouts on the hyperspace log before glancing back at the screen. Just because he was on his way to finally take care of Kenobi on that hellish planet didn't mean that he couldn't use the time traveling to learn more about his son.
"Yes. This is more like Luke."
At least, it's more like what Vader pictured Luke being. The room, much too tiny for someone of Luke's caliber, was mostly tidy. The bed was unmade and rumpled, and there were a few dirty socks lying around, but it wasn't anything he'd get thrown in the brig for to teach a lesson in cleanliness.
Actually, he wasn't fully certain what the military did to punish disorderly cadets any more. Withhold rations? Cleaning duty? It was beneath him to care.
But other than that, the room was almost bare. LIkely because Luke hadn't had the money to get what he wanted. "Look through his drawers." Vader ordered when Piett hesitated at the doorway. "I will know everything there is to know about my son."
He watched as the captain did as he was ordered, but before he opened the top drawer, he paused. "Even...even his underwear drawer, My Lord?"
Vader made a face. "No, I take that back, I wish to know almost everything. For now his...for now that doesn't concern me."
He honestly wasn't sure if he was sad about missing the diaper/potty training phase of Luke's life or not. He wasn't about to start now.
Piett skipped the top drawer and began rummaging through the others. Unlike the rest of his room, the clothes stuffed in the drawers were tangled with no organization whatsoever. But none of the clothes looked like anything someone of his true stature should be wearing. Perhaps that was why Luke didn't seem to care if they were wrinkled a lot. Though, now that he thought about it, Luke seemed well put together when he saw him. Did he iron his clothes daily?
"Is there a closet in this room?"
He watched as Piett turned to look. "No, My Lord."
Hm. Well, that would explain the drawers, but he was starting to wonder if his stupid step brother taught the boy how to properly fold so he didn't have to iron daily.
Not that he'd known while living on Tatooine. It had actually been Kenobi who'd drilled it into him-
He cut that thought off, clenching his fists.
"Move towards the desk!" He ordered sharply. "There are items on it that I wish to see."
Piett complied. The desk was small, but adequate...or at least he thought so until Piett brushed against it and one side of the table dipped, one leg clearly shorter than the others. "You will kill that landlord by the end of the week." He growled.
"It will be done, My Lord." Piett reached over and picked up a model T-16 Skyhopper, holding it up for him to see.
It was...well worn, and old. Years old. In fact, it seemed to be the only personal item in the whole room that had nothing to do with living necessities and school. The paint was faded and chipped, and there were a few small stains on it.
It was such a small thing. It wasn't even expensive. Any child could have that, and a million more like it. But for some reason, it seemed intensely...personal. Like it was offering Vader a look into Luke's very soul, and what he found there was someone not that different than he had once been. Someone with dreams to escape a hell hole. Someone with dreams of adventure, of being one with a ship, with nothing between him and the stars beyond.
Yes. Luke...shared more similarities to him than his facial features.
The knowledge brought an uncomfortable, intense warmth to his chest, and he was almost glad when Piett put the ship down and picked up a comm unit.
"I want to see his messages." He ordered.
"It may be password-oh, and it's not." Piett only had to turn on the comm to be brought to the main menu, and in the dim glow Vader watched him move to the message storage center.
"You'd think he'd be more cautious of the world around him." Vader mused.
"I don't think Luke yet knows the meaning of the word cautious, My Lord." Then there was a pause. "I...didn't mean…"
"No, you are right. I will need to teach him better self preservation skills." Seriously. He was almost tempted to at least drop by his step brothers homestead if only to demand how he could let Luke grow up so dangerously innocent.
But the thought was forgotten when Piett started playing messages.
A few were from friends. It was apparent that Luke, despite two jobs and an obsession with getting close to him, actually hung out with quite a few other people. There were a few people Vader recognized from class (all morons, in his opinion), and more he didn't. If any gave their name, he jotted them down to look into later, after he'd killed Kenobi, preferably.
Then there were the messages from his aunt and uncle. He frowned, noting that neither one of them appeared at all like he last knew them. The woman-Beru?- had shorter hair that had gone completely gray. She seemed to be interested in what Luke was doing, because she asked a lot of questions before launching into dull, boring information about how the farm was doing.
And his step brother...Owen. He looked more like his father now that he was older, and much gruffer than when he'd last seen him. He never appeared to be happy in any of the messages, and he often let Beru do all the talking, occasionally grunting if she asked him to chime in. A few times he added something along the lines of, "The vaporaters broke again. This is exactly why I told you I needed you here-"
Vader scowled. A moisture farm was no place for his son. Luke was better than that.
But then as Piett went backwards, Owen stopped showing up. It was only Beru. Even in her updates about the farm, everything sounded the same to Vader.
Until Piett got to the oldest message.
It was Owen, fuming into the comm while Beru looked on, worried.
"You promised me another season!" Owen was bellowing angrily, shaking a finger into the holocam. "Where the hell are you?! I swear, Luke, if you've gone and gotten yourself involved in that damned Imperial Navy, you'll end up dead before the year ends!"
"Owen!" Beru glared. "You don't know that!"
"There's a damned war going on, Beru! He's never even been to Mos Eisley!"
"I'm sure Luke didn't join the navy." Beru looked worriedly at the holocam. "Right, Luke? Please tell me you went to that school you got the scholarship for-"
"I don't know how the hell he expects to pay for it!" Owen growled, glaring at the cam. "You know I can't help you with this! I can't even afford to get new vaporators!"
"Owen-"
"You promised!"
"He's an adult, all of his friends already left. Besides, it's not like it's the first time he's run off, maybe he'll come back-"
"It's been days!"
Beru placed a hand on Owen's shoulder. "Please, Luke. At least call us and tell us you're alright. Please. Don't we deserve that much?"
The call cut off, and the comm went silent.
"Perhaps Luke isn't as innocent as we thought." Piett was the first to break the silence.
Ran away. Luke ran away? To come to school? He tried to picture the boy he'd grown to know doing something like that. It was...well, no, even in the worst circumstances, he'd never thought to run away. There was always something that kept him where he was. Someone he loved, pressure to balance the Force, military duties, loyalty to a master that no longer seemed to care for him…
Though he had tried to run off to go on vacation a few times...still. This seemed more serious than that.
It would seem there was much he didn't know about his son.
Piett was still musing over the messages when he heard the front door to the apartment open and close.
"Uh...Kriff-I mean, Lord Vader, someone's here!"
"Luke?"
"I don't know-"
There were footsteps coming his way.
Piett dropped the comm back on the desk and dove under the bed. It was the only hiding spot in the entire stupid bedroom, and there was no time to jump out the window before-
The door opened.
"Is it Luke?" Vader demanded. Piett didn't answer. He didn't dare breathe.
Not as the light turned on, and shoes appeared in his line of vision. There was a long, weary sigh, and above him someone sat on the bed. The mattress, like the couch, sagged under the weight, leaving Piett with no room to even move. It was difficult to breathe.
"I take that as a yes."
Piett watched in horror as Luke kicked off his shoes, tossing them into a corner, then dirty socks.
"Someone needs to teach this boy cleanliness."
But not right now! Piett wanted to scream. What was he going to do? What could he do? What if Luke looked under the bed, and-
The sound of the front door opening and closing reached his ears again. "Hey, Luke, you home?" An unfamiliar voice called out.
"Yeah, in my room." Luke called back. There was a pause. Then, Luke muttered, "I could have sworn I put the T-16 on the other side of the desk…"
"You didn't put it on the right side?!" Vader demanded angrily.
I didn't exactly have time to put it back to the exact positions! Piett replied furiously in his head.
"Did you leave the living room window open?" The same male voice called.
"No? Why would I do that?"
"I don't know, man, you tell me!"
There was a silence. Then, Luke stood, crossed to his dresser and opened it.
"Dude," Luke called, sounding alarmed. "I think someone came into our apartment!"
"How would he even be able to tell that from those drawers?!" Vader sounded torn between impressed and skeptical. Frankly, Piett agreed with him, but that didn't help his current situation. At all.
"You...don't think they're still here, do you?" The roommate's shoes suddenly appeared at the doorway.
There was a long pause. "I don't know…"
"Captain, you need to get out, NOW!" Vader ordered, sounding slightly panicked. That didn't help ease Piett's nerves at all. In fact, he was pretty sure he was about to start hyperventilating right then and there.
"Dude. If someone broke in, they'd have stolen something."
"But my room doesn't look the way I left it…"
"Maybe you were too tired to remember right. Come on, they'd at least have taken the flatscreen and the hologames."
"They're ancient."
"They're retro. You could get some decent money off of them."
Piett was pretty sure Luke was right on this one, but he wasn't about to offer up his two cents.
"Look, come on. Let's search the apartment together. If we find a thief, we'll beat him up!"
"I've obviously been in too many fights recently." Luke didn't sound amused.
"That was one fight. Come on. Let's start with the front room…"
Piett watched as the feet disappeared around the corner, then he quickly shimmied out from underneath the bed, headed to the window, opened it, and slipped out. This time, he was careful to shut the window after him before bolting into the dark alleyway.
"That was too close." Vader grumbled unhappily in his ear. "Next time, make sure you leave everything as is."
Next time? Piett wanted to demand, You're saying there'll be a next time?!
But he didn't say that. Instead he looked up at the stars above him, praying to every god he'd ever heard of to give him the patience to deal with Vader and his apparently wayward son, and replied, "Yes, My Lord. I'll be sure to improve."
No one had prepared him for this at the Academy, for sure.
