Work Text:
The Diary of Luke Skywalker
In the course of the battle of Hoth an insignificant Imperial, let’s call him TK-1137, comes across a small databook. It is password-protected, so he doesn't know what's in it, but the title scribbled on it says, The Diary of Luke Skywalker.
TK-1137 knows rather well that Vader is hot on the rebel Skywalker, so he decides he will keep the thing safe in his utility pouch and have it delivered to Vader after the battle. Maybe, he thinks, it will help ensure his promotion.
Unfortunately, he ends up getting intimately acquainted with one of the land mines planted by the evacuating rebels. When his comrades later pick up his pieces for funeral, one of the pieces has his utility pouch still attached, unharmed.
The pouch, together with TK-1137’s other personal possessions, is sent back to his family, who discover the Diary in it.
Now, TK-1137’s father, let's call him Mr Antilles (which is not improbable, as this is said to be the most popular last name in the GFFA), is a simple man but he knows, at least from gutter press, that Vader has special interest in Skywalker. So Mr Antilles opts to try to sell the Diary to Vader. He does not know how to contact Vader, so he contacts the local governor’s office for directions.
Unbeknownst to Mr Antilles, the local governor is secretly harbouring rebel sympathies. He thinks Mr Antilles may be one of Vader's spies, so he has Mr Antilles arrested and put to prison. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, he does not know to look for the Diary.
So the Diary comes into the hands of Mr Antilles’s other son, TK-1137’s younger brother. Let's call him Mr Antilles Jr. Mr Antilles Jr wants to get rid of an item that brought his dad such misfortune, so he manages to sell it for a few creds in a shady backroom of a bar. He was the wisest of that family, apparently.
The poor sod who buys the thing, well, why not call him Elan, was stoned during the transaction. So he puts this thing in his backpack, and forgets it all about it. But one day he goes to a whorehouse to visit a friendly Twi’lek lady, let's call her Chrissy.
Unfortunately, Elan is an old sleazebag, been into drug business for ever since the Old Republic came to an end, so he is a familiar face to the local police. And guess what, it so happens that he has to make a rather hasty exit from Chrissy's, forgetting to pay and leaving his backpack in the process.
Chrissy, of course, being the charitable soul that she is, decides that it would be more prudent and probably a bit more profitable for her to simply claim the contents of the backpack as her payment, instead of trying to track Elan down and hope for him to settle his debt at a later date. She manages to sell the drug doses in Elan’s backpack rather profitably, disposes of other rubbish, and keeps the Diary. As all previous owners, she too is unable to open it but plans to show it to a local hacker who is in the habit of visiting her from time to time.
But before that happens, Chrissy makes a fatal mistake. Namely, she has some small-time gambling debts and she decides to take the easy way out to settle them. So, when another client appears, a tall well-built man with a ponytail and a rakish grin (if we’re friendly, he might tell us to call him Jix), Chrissy notices that his wallet looks pretty thick, and decides to take action. She steals his money and hides it in one of the safe boxes in her room.
Alas, she has chosen the wrong client. Jix is instantly aware of what she has done. He stuns her and searches her room for his wallet. Oh, he does find it. But he also finds something else.
***
Jix takes the Thing home to try to hack it. But Luke (as you might expect from a Skywalker) was apparently very good with All Things With Buttons and Wires, so hacking it takes quite a bit more time and effort than Jix had anticipated.
Just as Jix is turning it in his hands, studying each side carefully, tinkering: tink, tink, tink —
*Beep*, goes the comm.
Jix hits the button without looking up.
“Jix here. Oh, hello, Uncle Dee”. (tink, tink, tink.)
“Jixton. Admiral Droon's associate, Moff Fie-Fam-Foo, has been feeding information to rebels.”
“Hmm.”
“I want you to find proof,” the Dark Lord intones.
Jix is still not looking up from the datapad. “Uh-uh.” (tink, tink.)
“Something absolutely waterproof, that can actually be used on trial.”
“Yeah.”
With the mask on, you cannot really see Lord Vader’s expressions, but — a fact that is not generally known but that is intimately familiar to Jix — you can actually feel them. So, Jix is very much aware of the hair-raising suspicious look. “Do you hear me at all, Jixton?”
“Loud and clear, Uncle Dee. Fie-Fam-whatsisname,“ (tink, tink, tink), “rebels,” (tink), “proof.” (tink).
“Good. Get to it.”
Sighing, Jix disconnects, takes the Thing along and leaves.
***
After some time: Jix tinkering again.
Tink-tink. “Damn, wrong again.”
*Beep-beep.*
“Ji... Oh. Hi, Uncle Dee. Did you get the, um, (tinkety-tink) information? You know, Fie-Fam's stuff?”
“Yes. But he's cleverer than we expected. You must... What the hell are you doing, anyway?”
Jix looks up innocently, hiding the Diary behind his back. “Who, me? Nuffin, absolutely nuffin.”
Vader shrugs. “Never mind, your pornographic interests do not matter to me. What I was trying to say is, the Moff needs to be dealt with.”
Jix grins. The two understand each other perfectly. “Shall be done, Uncle Dee. Bye, Uncle Dee.” The last words are said to the empty air, as Vader has already disconnected.
***
Another day, after having beaten up another squad of troopers sent after him, Jix slinks into Vader's palace.
Vader, naturally, decides to make him gack a little.
So, when Jix is finally let down again, rather roughly I should say, the Thing falls out from whatever pocket it was in, and slides dirrrrectly to Vader's boot-tips.
Disbelieving, Vader stares down, one hand still in the air. "What the— is that your porn collection?“ Vader is almost ready to kick the Thing back at Jix, but then sees what it is. “Oh. The Diary of Luke Skywalker,” he reads from the datapad. “What is it, some kind of joke?"
"Umm..."
"Where did you get it?"
"Er..."
"What's in it?"
"Well, you see..."