"Are you...quite sure about this, My Lord?" Piett reached up and tugged at the half cape around his shoulders. "This seems...formal, for a bake sale."
"If it was formal, you would be wearing a full length cape." Vader grumbled. He sounded distracted, as if he were waiting for someone to show up. Maybe the same someone who'd almost ruined Piett's cover earlier in the week. "Besides, if we are to win this bake sale, we will need to look our best."
"It isn't a competition, My Lord, it's for charity-"
"Nonsense. Life is a competition. We will earn the most money. I have assured this."
Piett grimaced before grabbing his key card and heading out the door of his apartment. He had a feeling this had to do with Vader's assurances that he didn't need to bake anything, that 'all had been taken care of' and that he would see when he got to his assigned booth.
Sure enough, when he arrived, Vader's cryptic assurances became extremely clear.
There were treats of various types spread out across the table. Treats from all over the galaxy. Nubian sweet tarts. Mustafarian firecrackers. Corusanti cupcakes with Imperial symbols on them. And each type of treat had so many batches, Piett was pretty sure Lord Vader roped in the entire kitchen staff of the nearest Star Destroyer to make them.
Piett lowered his voice so no one would overhear. "My Lord, how am I supposed to explain how I did this?"
"Just say you paid for it." Vader said it like it was no big deal.
"...A job like this would have cost thousands of credits. He's already suspicious of where we got our money."
Vader made a noise. "Then tell him you made it."
"Me?" He didn't know the first thing about cooking. "What if he asks about the specific details?"
"Then I will be prepared with recipe information just in case." Vader drawled, clearly annoyed by the questioning. "Just do it. Do not blow our cover."
How did Vader not see that the person who usually almost blew their cover was, in fact, him? He wondered if someone needed to take Lord Vader to social functions outside of a star destroyer or the Imperial royal court. It was obvious a few days dealing with normal people would likely do him some good.
Maybe someday, when this was all over, he could convince Luke to make it happen.
"Whoa, you did all of this?"
Speak of the rancor, and he shall appear. Piett thought, turning around to face the boy. Luke carried his contribution: some cupcakes that were clearly homemade. The icing was...shoddy, at best. He wasn't sure if Luke was a bad baker or just terrible at decorating.
"Yes." He replied at Vader's prompting.
"This must have taken you hours!" Luke stared wide-eyed at the collection. "How did you even have time to do school work?"
"With little sleep."
"Oh. Well. I'm not surprised."
Piett narrowed his gaze, certain he was referencing to the bags that seemed to constantly be under his eyes these days. You try pretending to be Darth Vader pretending to be you and see what your eyes look like! He thought, knowing he would definitely be a dead man if he said it.
But Luke smiled at him. "Nice cape. Didn't take you for a cape guy."
"Success!" Vader practically shouted in his ear and it took all of Piett's willpower not to wince. "Tell him if he wants, you could let him borrow some!"
Yes, Vader had sent quite a wardrobe to his apartment this week. Now Piett was wondering if this was his strange way of clothing his child without making it super obvious.
"If you want, you could borrow some of mine."
Luke's smile didn't falter, though Piett thought he saw some dismay in the boy's eyes. "Thanks, but I don't think I'm a cape kind of guy."
"He absolutely is!" Vader snarled in his ear, "Look at him, those shoulders are perfect for capes!"
Who knew Vader had such an opinion on fashion? Or at least when it came to capes? Then again, the man's armor weave cape definitely completed his signature terrifying ensemble.
Before Piett could even contemplate telling Luke that, he held out his cupcakes. "Wanna try?"
"Try them." Vader immediately ordered. "And find a way to describe how they taste."
Obviously it was yet another odd way for Vader to find out more information about his newfound son, but it also made Piett wonder if Vader could even eat solid foods considering his...condition. But he merely nodded, accepted one that didn't look completely destroyed, and bit into it.
He regretted it instantly.
"Oh." He said, chewing and fighting the desire to make a disgusted face. It definitely had way too much of something in it. "It's. Um."
"...It is terrible, isn't it?" Vader didn't sound surprised. "Tatooine is not known for its bakers-"
"To be fair, I've never tried baking cupcakes before." Luke admitted, confirming Vader's comments. "There's a reason I don't work in a bakery."
"I...no, it's…" How did he nicely say that he wished he could purge the taste from his mouth?
"It's fine. We don't need to sell this. Clearly we already have more than enough." Luke shrugged.
"You have talents elsewhere." Piett assured him, thankful Vader didn't force him to take the cupcakes anyway, and also surprised at the genuinely decent consoling. Maybe he got a book on parenting?
Luke smiled. "Thanks. Baking is definitely not it, and I'm okay with that." He dumped the cupcakes into a nearby waste bin. "So, I guess I'll just help wherever you need me."
"Considering your sunshine nature-" Piett repeated, and he couldn't contain the smile at Vader's words.
"Hey!" Luke pouted.
"It is not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, we shall use it to our advantage."
Luke didn't look totally convinced. "How?"
"You are going to be the one to draw in customers."
"Oh." He brightened at that. "Yeah, I can do that. Easy. I should have asked to borrow the slate board-"
"I had one delivered with the goods." Vader commented. "It should be behind the table."
"You're in luck." Piett said, moving around the table and reaching under the table cloth to pull out the materials exactly as described. He was actually impressed Vader bothered to remember such a detail about his son…
"Great!" Luke grinned, accepting the supplies and immediately getting to work.
As Piett busied himself with getting the data chip ready to accept money, a woman with platinum blonde hair approached, staring at all of the baked goods. "Oh, you certainly outdid yourself."
"Do you know this woman?" Vader grumbled irritably in his ear. "Is she part of our class?"
Piett had certainly never seen her. But he didn't have to answer. Luke looked up from whatever he was furiously drawing and grinned, a little bit of blue chalk-dust smeared on his cheek. "Hi! I'm Luke. Do you want to buy a treat?"
The woman was still staring at the goods in almost...dismay. "No. I'm Kahreen. I'm your neighbor." She pointed to a lavishly decorated table. There weren't as many treats, but there were so many fancy decorations, it was obvious she'd spent a bunch of time on this entire thing.
Maybe Vader was right. Maybe this was more of a competition than he thought.
Luke didn't seem to get the message. "Oh. That's cool. Maybe I'll drop by and get something later."
"Oh, he most certainly will not buy from the competition-" Vader began, but Kahreen gave Luke what Piett thought might have been an attempt at a smile, but instead it was more of a grimace.
She leaned down. "Aren't you a bit young to attend here?"
The smile fell off Luke's face. But instead of getting upset, he said, "Maybe I'm a genius and got in early."
"Or maybe you're helping your dad over here sell subpar goodies."
Piett opened his mouth, expecting to immediately deny the father accusation, but Vader was silent.
Luke was ahead of him. "He's actually younger than he looks. There's no possible way he's my father, lady."
No, but I have your father in my ear ordering me around. Piett thought.
"Hm." Kahreen frowned, shooting him a glare. "Well. If you plan on stealing the title of Most Donated from me this year, you both are in for a surprise. My cookies are legendary around here!"
"There's a title? What do you get for donating the most?" Luke asked dryly.
Kahreen flushed. "You wouldn't understand."
"So. Nothing?"
"Pride."
Finally, Vader prompted Piett to step in, and he did so with relief. The woman's nasally voice was grating. "That is enough." He pointed at her, trying to throw as much of a threat into it as he'd seen Vader do a million times before. "You will cease this pointless drivel and go back to your table. I will be winning this competition with ease, so you should spend this time preparing to get second place."
"Again," Luke said, "I really don't think there's a competition here-"
"There is always a competition." Piett interrupted. At least, according to Vader and Kahreen there was. The idea of Vader actually being in the same room as this woman was a terrifying thought. "Now go wallow in your own failure."
The woman's face went red, and without another word, she stormed off back to her table.
Luke sighed and looked up at him. "Is there ever a normal day with you?"
"No." Piett honestly had to agree with Vader on this one. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd had known normalcy. "We will destroy this woman and show her what it truly means to donate to charity."
Luke made a face, sighed, and went back to his drawing. "Piett. You are literally the most interesting man I've ever met."
Piett wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.
Luke ended up creating a sign with four panels. In each panel was a Loth cat. In the first, the cat said, "I'll have a Corustanti Cupcake!" In the second, the cat was given his cupcake. In the third, the cat knocked it off the table. And in the fourth, the cat raised its paw and shouted, "Another!"
Vader didn't really get it, but customers who approached the table looked at the sign, smiled, and seemed more interested in what they had to sell. So, he didn't request that the boy change it.
It also helped that Luke chatted up literally anyone who came by. Vader had never been good at small talk- in fact, Padme had deliberately kept him from having to make it, knowing that if he did, the evening would likely turn disastrous. He personally liked to get to the point.
But Luke was definitely his mother's child in this regard. He spoke to others as easily as he breathed. What was more, his easy-going demeanor set people at ease, and it seemed as though they sold more as a result. If he had prepared properly, it might have been interesting to conduct an experiment.
He had full confidence that they would win the title of "Most Donated." It obviously wouldn't get them anything, but just the idea of beating that woman made Vader grin...which he so rarely did these days.
He wasn't sure what that said about him: that he would be so enthusiastic about beating some random insignificant woman in a baking contest. But everytime Piett's mic picked up the sound of that woman calling her wares, Vader's determination to win the arbitrary contest increased that much more.
If he wasn't so assured that he would win, he'd have Piett sabotage the woman's stupid treats.
"This is just pathetic."
Vader's teeth clenched as the familiar voice of his old enemy reached his ears. This time though, he made sure to put himself on mute before he turned to the ghostly image of the other man.
"Just when I thought I'd get peace."
"When have you ever known peace in the last eighteen years?"
Vader sneered. Obi-Wan couldn't see it, but he did it all the same. "I doubt I have ever known it."
Kenobi looked at him for a long moment. "Was it really that horrible? Was I that much of a failure?"
"You cut my limbs off!" His fists clenched. "You know what? No. We are not doing this. I have better things to do than argue with a dead man!"
He turned back to the screen and glared at it, determined to ignore the ghost.
"Pretending that I am not here won't change the fact that I am. Because of you, might I add."
He was regretting the decision with every passing moment. But he did not give Kenobi the satisfaction of his attention.
"I wonder what Master Yoda would have said had I told him that a Sith Lord was spending his time stalking his son through a random Imperial captain...and that he was participating in a ridiculous bake sale remotely."
The mention of Yoda didn't help Vader's mood, but again, he was determined not to respond.
He almost missed what Luke was telling Piett.
"...landlord disappeared and turned up dead." Luke was saying. "The new guy wants to renovate the apartments."
Good. Vader thought, unmuting himself. "Tell him that is not a bad thing. He will have improved living quarters."
But when Piett did, Luke gave a smile that didn't quite touch his eyes. "Someone will, at least. They're evicting the current residents so they can renovate. When they finish, I'm pretty sure I won't be able to afford it anymore."
Vader sat there, stunned.
That...wasn't expected.
"Let me guess." Kenobi drawled. "You had a hand in this?"
Oh, how he wanted to kill the man all over again. Slower this time.
"So, this is a great distraction from the apartment hunting." Luke tried a bright smile again, and Vader wished he wouldn't. It just made him feel worse.
"Oh look. You made your son homeless. Good job."
He quickly put himself on mute and whirled. "You stuck him on that hellhole of a planet and let him be raised by idiotic farmers! It's a miracle he managed to escape!"
"At least he had a home."
"He would have had a better one with me!"
"Says the guy who can't even directly give his son the money he needs to survive without blowing his insane cover."
"You know nothing of my plans!" He'd literally had meetings that morning with his spies to set up for the overthrow of his master. It would be tricky, but he was willing to risk anything if it meant finally being able to meet his boy in person. "Now leave so I can fix this!"
But when he turned back to the screen, phase two of his brilliant plan to fund his son's education had begun.
There were benefits to being the supreme commander of the Imperial Navy. Namely, he could use his resources to even indirectly order every Imperial officer in the vicinity to drop by a bake sale and purchase treats...and leave an extra large tip. He'd of course supplied the money. After finding out the salary of a maintenance worker, he figured he should probably supply the officers with the needed funds since it was technically a work expense.
An ensign approached the table. Luke immediately turned from his conversation about apartment woes with a big smile on his face. "Hi! I'm Luke. What can I get for you today? The Mustafarian firecrackers are our best sellers!"
"I'll take one of each, please." The man gave a strained smile back.
"Great choice!" Luke began preparing the order. "Say, you're an ensign, right? Are you stationed out here?"
"Yes. Though I'm due to report to the Engager soon enough."
"Cool! Lucky you, you're going to see the whole galaxy!"
Vader shot Obi-Wan a glare at the reminder of what his son had missed...but the old man had disappeared.
Stupid ghosts. Once he was done killing the Emperor and bringing his son home, he'd need to figure out how to get rid of them. It likely wouldn't be as easy as calling an exterminator, unfortunately.
"That'll be eighteen credits!"
The ensign pulled out a credit chip, swiped it on Piett's pad, filled out the required fields, then walked away. Piett turned the screen around, but not before Luke caught a glimpse of it...and did a double take.
A second later, the datapad was in his hands.
"He gave us a thousand credit tip?!" Luke gasped, "Who- who does that?"
"Maybe he's from a wealthy family." Vader suggested.
"No, that's... why? We don't even know him!" Luke gave Piett a suspicious frown. "Unless he serves with you…?"
"I can assure you, he does not. Oh. Look. Another customer."
Another Imperial approached. Again, Luke struck up a conversation, though Vader noticed the strain in his voice this time. And again, after buying one of each kind of treat, a large tip was made, though a different amount.
"Eight hundred?!" Luke squinted at the datapad as though he were going blind. Vader made a mental note to make him an optometrist appointment when he finally came home. "Are you sure you don't know these people?"
"Perhaps the local Imperials are of the giving nature." Vader suggested.
Luke made a face. "Yeah, I don't think that's it."
Before Vader could ask what that meant, another Imperial customer appeared.
Then another.
And another.
And another.
Eventually, Luke stopped questioning Piett. He tried to maintain his facade, but after a captain left a two thousand credit tip, Luke shouted, "Why?! Why are all of you people giving so much?!"
The captain gave Luke an odd look. "It's for charity. You're encouraged to give, aren't you?"
Luke flushed. "I- yeah, but-"
He stopped asking questions after that.
By the end of the sale, they were completely out, the goods primarily purchased by the local Imperial garrison for far more money than was necessary. When Piett totalled up the final count, Vader grinned for the second time that night.
He'd pretty much single handedly assured that Luke's school would be paid for over the next three semesters. Plus whatever anyone else sold. That should give him enough time to kill the Emperor and reveal the actual situation to his son, then he'd let him pay for the rest of his schooling. The plan was brilliant.
Now he just needed to ensure that Luke would be awarded the scholarship money.
Luke was sitting in a chair, looking completely dumbfounded when Piett read him the total. "You're... sure…?"
"I am completely sure." Vader replied, amused at the boy's reaction. Oh, how Luke didn't know his own importance.
Luke opened his mouth, but he didn't get to say anything. He was interrupted by that woman.
"So. How much did you sell?" Piett turned to find the annoying woman standing there, holding her own data pad, a confident smirk on her face.
"Far more than you. I assure you." Vader replied, reveling in the satisfaction of destroying her. Maybe he should do this more often…
"Oh reeeaaally?" Stars, her voice was naselly. "You beat five thousand fifehundred and thirty four credits?" She smirked, as if that even came close to anything.
But it was Luke who responded. He began to laugh. Piett and the woman turned back to the boy, and the satisfaction began to fade as Vader noted with concern that there was an almost unhinged sound to the laugh. It wasn't the carefree laugh he'd grown used to.
"Lady," Luke said, holding his sides and shaking his head, "The local Imperial admiral tipped us six thousand credits."
Vader frowned. Shouldn't Luke be happy? Maybe he was upset because he didn't think he had a chance at getting the scholarship? He wished the woman would go away so he could ask.
"That's impossible." The datapad was snatched out of Piett's hands...and Vader heard the woman gasp. "What-? How-?"
Luke stood, still shaking his head. He gave Piett an odd look as he said, "The story we're apparently going with is that the local Imperials have suddenly decided to be giving to charity. Isn't that right, Piett?"
Vader...didn't know how to respond to that. He didn't know how to respond to this odd behavior from his son. So he remained silent, and left Piett staring at the boy.
Luke snorted. "Well. Good job on collecting for charity everyone. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go figure out an apartment situation."
Then before Vader could order Piett to stop him, Luke took off, leaving Piett alone with the crazy lady who still stared at the datapad as though it held the galaxy's greatest secrets.
Vader wished it did. Maybe it could tell him where he'd gone wrong and how to fix Luke before their relationship deteriorated before he'd even officially met him.
