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


Darth Vader didn't carry a briefcase. Minions carried briefcases. And anyway, he tried to get all of his work done at the office. Whenever he tried to work at home, the blasted kids always needed something.

He drove his sleek black Cadillac Escalade into his executive parking space at EmpireCorp, allowed the doorman to open the door for him, and rode the elevator up to the top floor.

"Vader, we have a meeting in the Imperial Conference Room ASAP," Jones, another vice president, told him as soon as he got off the elevator.

"Damnation," Vader grumbled, remembering his meeting with the new buyers. "Am I going to be expected to sit in meetings all day? Jones, don't make me kill someone around here."

"Hey, don't complain," Jones advised. "The Emperor called it."

The President and CEO of EmpireCorp was a man as old as dirt; seriously, he was in his eighties or nineties. He had some complicated name that nobody could pronounce, so behind his back, everyone called him the Emperor. The man needed to retire, but as long as the Board of Directors continued to like him, he stayed on.

Vader wanted his job more than anything.

As Darth made his way to the Imperial Conference Room, he passed several EmpireCorp minions in white uniforms and masks. The mask wasn't a part of the uniform, obviously, but the minions on the top floor wore them especially for Darth Vader. They didn't want him to feel all self-conscious at being the only person in a suit at EmpireCorp.

95% of Darth Vader didn't care. But 5% was eternally grateful to the minions. It wasn't easy having to wear the same black suit and mask all the time.

A minion handed him a cup of coffee, knowing he liked to pretend to drink it. Vader grumbled out a thank-you and took his seat next to the Emperor in the Imperial Conference Room.

"We have a very serious situation here," the Emperor spoke in his elderly-old-man voice. Vader was lucky he had a seat right next to him; the poor schmucks in the back had to strain to hear what the old man is saying. "I don't know how many of you saw the Wall Street Journal this morning, but RebelCorp is set to become a publicly-traded company by the end of the month."

"RebelCorp?" Vader growled. "What the hell is RebelCorp?"


Leia Skywalker came home from school in tears.

"Leia! Honey, what's the matter?" Aunt Beru soothed, taking her niece in her arms. She was baking cookies in the Skywalkers' kitchen while Luke slept.

Leia had seen her Aunt Beru's car in the driveway. It should have made her happy to know that her aunt was home, but instead, it had only made her break down into tears. "He—he won't leave me alone, Aunt Beru," she sobbed. "He h-humiliates m-me!"

"Who, honey? A boy at school?"

Leia nodded tearfully.

"Okay, sweetheart. Someone needs to change into something more comfortable, and then snuggle with Aunt Beru on the couch with a hot mug of tea. Here, honey, I'll even give you a few cookies." Beru dried her niece's tears and sent her off to her room.

About ten minutes later, Leia was in the living room in sweats, snuggled under a blanket with her aunt, sipping a cup of tea from one of her father's EmpireCorp mugs. "There's this dance coming up, and Han keeps asking me to go," she cried quietly. "And I don't want to go with him, but he keeps bugging me. He won't leave me alone."

"Is there a specific reason you don't want to go with Han?" Aunt Beru asked gently, pushing back of lock of her niece's hair.

"Because he's too arrogant. And he's always getting suspended."

"Sweetie, I think the best thing to do in this case would be honest. Tell him you're looking for someone more disciplined, and leave it at that."

"I've tried that, Aunt Beru. He doesn't accept that as a reason. He says it won't hurt to go to the dance with him just once."

"How about you find someone else to go with?" Aunt Beru smiled. "Go with your brother."

Leia burst into giggles. "Aunt Beru, I can't go to the dance with Luke! That's like dating my brother. Besides, Luke never goes. He's too shy." She thought. "How about I say yes to Han, and then call him up and cancel the day of, saying I've come down with Luke's bronchitis?"

"Sweetie, you're a Skywalker. Skywalkers don't lie. Besides, if you don't go with him this time, he'll just get you next time."

"Aunt Beru!" Luke's hoarse voice called, followed by an awful coughing fit.

"Luke, ring your bell! Leia, honey, I'll be right back. I just need to see what your brother needs."

Aunt Beru didn't come back for a couple of minutes, so Leia went over to Luke's room. Her brother was hugging Aunt Beru tightly around the chest.

"Are you okay, Luke?" Leia asked her brother gently, trying to hide the alarm in her voice.

"Luke is coughing up phlegm, even though I told him it's okay, because it means his lungs are clearing." Aunt Beru tucked her nephew back in bed. "I know what you need, sweetie. I refrigerated that oatmeal I made you this morning when you were too tired to eat. How about I heat it up and put some cinnamon and sugar on it?"

"Okay, Aunt Beru," Luke sniffled.

"Here, honey, sip some more tea. Leia, you need some comfort food. How about I make you some homemade macaroni and cheese?"

Leia, still upset, just shrugged an okay.

Aunt Beru left to make dinner, and Leia sat on her brother's bed. "Did you sleep today?"

Luke nodded weakly.

"So you didn't hear if Dad called at all?"

Luke shook his head. "No. Aunt Beru probably would have mentioned it to me if he had."

"You'd think that Dad would call to check on you if you're sick!"

"Yeah, you would think," Luke mumbled.


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