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Piett flicked through the files one more time, and checked that he didn’t have any urgent emails on his PC. Nothing that couldn’t be addressed after this meeting.
He rose and moved to the mirror to make sure his tie was straight for the fifth time. Leia had helped him pick this out--the whole suit actually--and he liked the deep navy fabric. The cut was impeccable (well, it would be at the tailor she had picked) and he did appreciate a good suit. Sometimes, he reflected, he may have been happy in uniform. But he had chosen law over the military, tempting as it had been years ago.
A knock on his door, and Leia entered bearing a cup of tea. She was looking very professional indeed, with her shining hair swept up and her elegant glasses. She had been interning here now for two months, and he enjoyed seeing her every morning.
“Good morning, Mr. Piett,” she said primly, setting the tea on his desk and moving to stand near him.
He smiled at the title.
“Good morning, Miss Skywalker. Thank you for that. Have our guests arrived?”
“Yes sir,” she replied demurely. “They are receiving a brief tour from my Father before they head to the board room. So you have a few minutes.”
Her eyes flickered to his tie for the third time and he sighed.
“All right, my dear, what’s wrong with it?”
She laughed and dropped the formality.
“It’s fine, but….may I?”
And she was undoing the knot even before he had finished nodding.
“There’s this very elegant way you see,” she told him, “I think they call it the Hanover knot. I do like your double Windsor, but this one for this tie…”
She had that slight frown of concentration that she got as she worked.
“And you know this because….?” he asked, looking down at her with a smile.
“Oh Luke’s hopeless and you know he doesn’t wear a tie often if he can help it. So I’m responsible for keeping us all presentable. Even Dad has me do it sometimes. There.”
He had to confess he didn’t see a huge difference, but he trusted her and more, loved that she cared to do it for him.
“Thank you, my dear,” he told her, and she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Don’t want to rumple that marvelous suit with a hug,” she said. “Good luck, Uncle Firmus.” And she trotted out, supremely in control.
This meeting was with a potential client, an exceedingly important potential client overseas, and they wanted this contract rather badly. Especially as the word was out that Palpatine was keen to poach their business.
He ran into Veers outside the massive board room on the top floor.
“Well,” his friend said, giving him a critical eye, “you look sharp. I see Leia has excellent taste.”
“I could have picked this out myself,” Piett huffed as they entered the beautifully panelled board room, and moved to the excellent spread of breakfast items on the big sideboard. They were the first to arrive.
Veers scanned the selections. “You could ,” he agreed, “but you didn’t. Good Lord is she spoiling you. These are your favorite doughnuts from that one place in Chelsea.”
Piett looked at the platter holding them and smiled. They were indeed.
“She went out of her way to do that.”
“Like I said,” Max told him, picking a bagel and some cantaloupe, and angling a sardonic eye his way. “Spoiled, Firmus.”
Piett couldn't bring himself to feel guilty about it. “If you like, Max, I’ll speak to her about getting the muffins you insist you don’t have a weakness for.”
“This isn’t about me, friend of mine,” Veers told him around his bite, “And I don’t have a weakness for muffins.”
Piett raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, and got himself some tea to go with the doughnut.
His dear girl.
By the time he and Max had finished their breakfast, the rest of the key members in the firm had made their way in, followed shortly by Lord Vader and the people who were their potential clients.
It was as the last person came in and Piett was shaking hands in introduction, that he glimpsed the blue merle blur zip through the closing door.
Surely not. He must be mistaken. He looked around the room, but there was no sign of the wiggly menace. Perhaps he should make sure that he wasn’t drinking too much caffeine.
Max gave him an inquiring look as they sat down near the end of the long table. The large windows were behind them and he had a good view of the sideboard across from them on the other wall.
A black nose was just visible over the shoulder of the woman who headed up their marketing department. Piett tensed all over.
No.
Was Luke here today? It would be the only explanation. His mobile vibrated as Lord Vader began making his opening remarks at the other end of the table.
He glanced down into his lap to see the text.
What is wrong with you?
He looked sharply at Max who tilted his head ever so slightly in question.
I think Artoo is in the room.
Veers drew in a sharp breath, and Piett could see him trying to subtly scan the boardroom from the corner of his eye.
Is Skywalker jr. here today?
I don’t know. I hope so, or I’m seeing things and need a doctor’s appointment.
I thought you were reasonably healthy again.
What do you mean ‘reasonably’?
He was perfectly healthy, thank you. Piett couldn’t glare, but then forgot his slight irritation with his friend when a cold nose poked at his ankle suddenly and he twitched, eliciting a look from the head of marketing.
He’s under the table.
Max cleared his throat softly.
Text Skywalker to get his damn dog.
“....but that is what Firmus will be telling us about in a moment, correct?”
And Piett’s brain did a belly flop, but happily his mouth was able to operate independently.
“Indeed, my Lord.”
Lord Vader nodded, as though pleased, but Piett hadn’t missed his slightly inquiring look. Damn, he could tell something was off.
Luke. Artoo is in the boardroom. Get here now.
Piett looked down the row of seated people as subtlety as possible. There. A nose poked out very carefully between two chairs. It withdrew slowly, back under the table, like a turtle back into its shell.
And the head of hospitality jumped. Literally jumped. Lord Vader angled a very cool look at the man and he apologized profusely.
“Muscle cramp, my Lord, I’m so very sorry, please continue…”
Veers glanced very slightly at Piett.
The leader of their prospective client group was speaking now and in the middle of the table, three people in a row made uncomfortable, though slight, movements.
Artoo, you despicable little swine.
Piett’s mobile vibrated again and he glanced down.
What the HELL is happening, Firmus?
It was from his Lordship. He looked up swiftly to meet Lord Vader’s impassive visage, but his eyes were intense.
He tilted his head ever so slightly and looked at the table. Lord Vader frowned.
Piett typed rapidly.
Artoo is under the table.
He watched as his employer’s eyebrows went up slightly.
I have texted your son.
Lord Vader compressed his lips and gave his devoted attention to their clients.
Next to him, Max twitched very slightly, as though he had kicked out….
Piett felt something brush by his chair. Then….that was definitely a happy little noise of recognition.
No, no, no…..
He put his hand down, glad he was at the end of the table so no one was seated on his other side. He tried to grasp for a collar and received vigorous licking to his palm instead.
Max nudged him hard and he looked up to realize that Lord Vader was looking at him expectantly.
Damn it. His turn. What was he speaking about again?
He cleared his throat.
“Sorry, my Lord, you said….?”
Lord Vader was trying to glare without being obvious about it.
It wasn’t his fault the fat little destroyer of worlds was here!!
“I said, Firmus , that you have looked into the legal aspect with the transport ships…”
And happily his brain slotted into place.
He delivered his prepared remarks smoothly, though not as eloquently as he could have hoped. Because the dog had broken cover and was quietly gazing up at the doughnut tray with awful purpose.
Everyone was watching him at the moment so he did his best to bring Lord Vader’s attention to the Corgi by meeting his eyes and tilting his head again as he spoke.
His Lordship was alert now and glanced immediately in that direction, eyes widening in horror as Piett continued. Happily their potential clients were all seated with their backs to the sideboard and looking at Piett.
His Lordship ‘sneezed’ just as the dog jumped straight up to try and reach the platter.
“ Artoo !”
“Bless you, my Lord,” said Max smoothly as the guilty demon dog twisted in mid air and landed on the carpet, flattening himself and oozing back under the cover of the table.
Nicely done with the assist, Max, Piett thought.
Something was whacking his shin repeatedly. Artoo’s guilty tail, wagging away.
The woman from marketing across from him was frowning slightly.
Where was Luke?
****
Artoo loved going places with the smiling master. Adventures abounded! New plants to be claimed as his! Smells to be smelled and massive opportunities for tummy rubs. The possibilities were endless!
This, though. This was not…..part of their deal.
The leash .
Many times had they done battle the leash and Artoo. He had conquered numerous of its kindred. But this was a chain leash. He could not chew it into submission. He couldn’t remove the collar either. He huffed once more from his position, lying on the floor of this office as the smiling master worked in front of the shining boxes with other humans.
He looked up as the smiling master glanced at him.
He expressed his displeasure with the situation in sharp barks.
“I know, Artoo,” his master said, laughing. “But you know that you are a force for destruction. This will only take a few more minutes and then we can go to the park.”
The park. The park was in his future. Good and well. But…. he must still prove his dominance over the leash . This was taking more thought. It was a wiley opponent this leash, impervious to force.
Well then. Never let it be said that Artoo couldn’t outsmart any given opponent. Lady said this frequently, actually, in regard to mole hunting, using very hurtful expressions, but as she was not here, he didn’t need to worry.
If he couldn’t break it, he would make the master undo it.
He tried the big eyes.
He tried the piteous whine.
He tried the annoying rattle which earned him a rebuke.
All right. He had no other recourse. He didn’t have much space for this, but he thought he just might accomplish it.
There. Hugely uncomfortable. He tried the piteous whine now, and the smiling master looked over and sighed.
“Artoo….honestly. How do you do this to yourself?”
With years of practice, Artoo thought, as the smiling master came over to see how he might untangle Artoo from the snarled mess of the leash. He made it very difficult through wiggling.
So the smiling master had no other choice but to unclip the lead.
Brillant? Yes. Few dog minds could come up with the plans that Artoo did. He waited patiently, calmly, as the smiling master finished unwinding the leash, that foul opponent.
3...2...1….
And he was off and out the door throwing an apologetic bark over his shoulder to the smiling master.
Of course he would return. But he needed to do this. Humans had a difficult time comprehending the job of a dog. If he didn’t sniff things, who would? If he didn’t put plants into their place who else would know to rebuke them?
And don’t get him started on cats.
Or squirrels.
He had a theory on that actually, as he was reasonably sure they were working in cahoots and….
…..wait.
He skidded to a stop near the moving doors that took you places. Doughnuts had been here, he was sure of it.
He sniffed again. Yes, and they had entered this very moving box. The moving doors parted to let humans off and more got on. He joined them, wishing them good morning.
“Um…..is that dog supposed to be here?”
“I didn’t think so…”
“Doesn’t Lord Vader have a dog though?”
“I heard he was slightly quirky that way.”
“Emotional support animal?”
They were talking about him. As they should. He was fairly remarkable. He had after all, only just defeated the leash .
Doors opened and closed as they proceeded. He smelled at each floor, but they had not reached the doughnut location.
The humans were giving him curious looks, but he just appeared as confident as possible. He had discovered that humans were more likely to allow him to do as he liked if he looked confident and gave the impression that he belonged here.
At last . The doughnuts were on this level. He trotted out and followed the marvellous smell down the hall to the room where some people were just entering.
Perfect.
Ah. The boss master was here. And Lady’s human. They would not be best pleased. Stealth was required.
Artoo ducked under the big table and faced the forest of legs. These were belonging to Lady’s human. It was only polite to say a brief hello. He shoved his nose at the ankle of Lady’s human and was rewarded with a twitch. He decided to leave the trousers of the stern human alone. He moved carefully up the middle, past polished leather shoes and shining high heels. He was close to the boss master. He turned, and rubbed against some black clad trouser legs.
How could he get to the doughnuts without the humans noticing? Or at least being able to stop him in time?
He could sense that IMPORTANT THINGS were being talked about. He had a good sense for that. It meant that the humans would be focused on their papers, and little boxes and would therefore not want to cause a disruption by drawing attention to him.
He brushed by a human's legs, causing said human to jump as he made his way carefully back down the table, eyeing the sideboard from his cover. He narrowly avoided a swift kick of the stern human’s foot. He was not pleased then. He took refuge by Lady’s human who put his hand down and ah...no. He liked Lady’s human, but he was trying to grab his collar and Artoo was on a mission .
Deploy countermeasures.
He shifted and licked the hand of Lady’s human vigorously.
Success.
The hand withdrew, and Lady’s human was speaking now. He could sense all the humans were distracted.
Go time.
He sped out silently from the cover of the table. And there. There in its glorious tower of sugary brilliance, was the doughnut platter. And….it was as though he was meant to have it...the raspberry jam filled one was the closest to his trembling nose, a slight drip of tell tale goo quivering out of the pastry.
If he jumped straight up, he was certain he could achieve his goal. He would need to exit swiftly. Hmmmm….back under the table then, since the door was closed.
He crouched.
He jumped…..
“ARTOO!!”
And he aborted the mission in mid-air at the terrible tones of suppressed rage in the boss master’s voice, to slink with great swiftness under the table once more, to the only refuge he could find: Lady’s human. He wagged furiously, pressing himself close to the man’s leg.
“Terribly sorry, I have allergies,” said the boss master and suddenly the door opened….
Salvation.
The smiling master had arrived.
****
“Um...hi Dad, sorry to interrupt. Hello, everyone.”
Piett’s hand found and grasped the collar of the wretched animal.
“My son, Luke,” said his Lordship pleasantly. “What can we do for you, son?”
And that was said in a tone that meant ‘Get your damn dog out of here subtly ’.
“Ummm….” Luke’s eyes met Piett’s and darted around the room. “I ah...heard there were doughnuts...but um…”
Veers coughed lightly in disbelief.
Is that the best you can do, Luke?
Lord Vader was clearly not impressed as well.
“You are welcome to one son, but we are in the middle of….”
“Yes, sorry to interrupt, so sorry.”
And Luke snagged a doughnut off the top. Piett understood what he was doing and he was desperately trying to look normal while holding a wriggling bundle of fur under the table.
Lord Vader turned to address the table again, and thus drew the attention of the room back to himself. In that moment, Piett let go of the collar and Artoo shot across the floor toward Luke who had reached the door and was holding the doughnut low to tempt the Corgi.
Numerous members of the company saw this movement, but all did remarkably well at restraining their reactions for the sake of their clients, who were not viewing this remarkable sight.
Luke shot Piett a last apologetic grin as the door closed, and the room heard a shrill bark echo from the hall.
Lord Vader paused and closed his eyes briefly. “One of our employees has a ah….” he began.
“I believe that is Johnston’s emotional support animal, my Lord,” Piett finished smoothly for him and Veers choked his snicker back….just.
“Very progressive of you, Lord Vader,” said the head of the other company, smiling.
Vader met Piett’s eyes briefly and he worked very hard to keep his face impassive, though he knew his lip was slightly quivering.
“Yes, well,” Vader said, turning to the man. “Our employees’ health is very important to us.”
“I’m glad to see evidence of that. It actually helps seal this deal for us. And I’d love to hear more about the support animal program.”
Lord Vader looked back at him and smiled.
Oh no.
“Absolutely. As it was Firmus’s idea, I’ll let him share the details. Over dinner tonight at my home, perhaps? That should work for you, shouldn’t it, Piett ?”
And his Lordship was enjoying this far too much. The other senior members of the company were hearing about this program for the first time themselves, but again, they were in their positions for a reason, and didn’t break expression.
Veers may have his ‘iron’ facade on, but Piett could feel the laughter he was suppressing.
Damn them both.
“Of course, my Lord. It would be my pleasure.”
“Naturally,” his lordship hummed, clearly very pleased with himself.
Piett was giving Lord Vader his very best icy stare, but the man was impervious and moved smoothly into closing the deal.
Veers leaned over. “Does this mean you’ll be bringing Lady to work now, Firmus?” he asked softly.
“Do shut up, Max.”