In Shadows and Darkness

Chapter 32

Vader strode evenly through the Palace to the Council Chambers, summoned there by his Master.

Here in the Palace the sense of portent in the Force was more defined; more potent. He'd sensed it immediately upon arrival, so hadn't been surprised by the summons, knowing that Palpatine would wish to discus the disturbance. Did he know its locus was here, in the Palace? Surely so. Perhaps he had greater insight as to its cause, for Vader saw nothing save the vague sense of a juncture- a convergence... a defining moment.

He knew now why Luke had urged him to stay away... could sense the power which crackled down the shadowed halls like a charge in the air, like the heavy, static stillness before a storm. Yet he'd returned anyway, the moment his Master had summoned him- had made no attempt to circumvent the command despite Luke's warning.

He gave his son too little credit, even when he knew in truth. The boy hid it well, particularly in the presence of their Master, but Vader had a closer connection than Palpatine could ever achieve. He knew the truth, the extent of his son's power - even if he didn't understand why the boy held it in check- what stayed his hand before the Emperor's patent manipulations, Luke alternating without reason between impassive, accepting indifference and stubborn, confrontational antagonism when the mood took him.

Because something did hold him in check. If the power had been Vader's he would have turned it on Palpatine long ago, whatever the perceived collateral damage.

No hesitation, no doubts.

But then the power had been his... once. For all the good it had done him- or Padmé.

He'd searched for the knowledge to save her, had surrendered everything for the opportunity to gain it-

No; somehow being here, today, in the midst of this potent power... this was the moment for absolute truth, even to himself. He had hidden behind easy justifications for too long.

Because even this, at its most basic level, was a lie.

He'd learnt the harshest lesson of all - and he'd learned it to Padmé's cost. Ultimately, she'd paid the price for his ambitions and his impatience.

He'd wanted power- to save Padmé yes, but for its own sake too. Power to rise above his peers; easy, quick power, because he thought he deserved it. So he'd taken what Palpatine had offered, knowing full well what he was doing.

That fateful moment on Coruscant- the decision made in haste to save Palpatine at the cost of Master Windu's life- yes, it had been in the heat of the moment, with so many forces in play... but he could have backed down so many times in the following days. Could have admitted the truth, aided his fellow Jedi; acknowledged his momentary fall and faced the consequences. It was not, after all, he who had killed Master Windu.

Or he could have confessed to Padmé- could have renounced the Jedi Order and hidden away among the nameless masses on some anonymous Rim planet. A quiet, humble life with his wife and son.

He could have refused to lead the clones into the Jedi Temple... could have warned those he'd trained beside and fought beside, no matter however covertly.

Could have listened to Obi-Wan on Mustafar.

But he'd wanted power... and he'd gained it; incredible, enervating, immense power. And foolishly, he'd thought the power was real, that it would give him the strength he craved, the connection and the capability he needed to bring destiny beneath his heel- Padmé's and his own.

But every increment it gave in those dark days, it had taken something in return...

And he'd been too wrapped up to see it; to realise the truth about this empty power. How it twisted and tainted all that it touched. If he'd had the strength- the integrity- to look beyond the obvious, perhaps she would still...

Because he hadn't understood- hadn't understood that power and strength were two very different things. True power- true strength- would have been the strength to step back.

And in that moment, it had failed him... he had failed himself.

Not Obi-Wan, or Padmé or the Jedi Council. He had failed. Had damned himself by his own actions.

The fault was his...

And now - now his son gave him the chance of redemption, if only in some small part, for all that he had done... Vader frowned beneath his mask; but was he throwing that away too, just as he had done with Padmé? He wasn't blind to the fact that he was using his own son- using Luke to accomplish what he could not; the deposing of Palpatine.

Had he learned nothing... was he once again prepared to exchange everything for the opportunity to excel. Wasn't he still prepared to pay any price to gain power?

But the power was no longer for himself, so surely this was different...

Or was it at all? The boy didn't want this; he had made that abundantly clear. Yet still Vader pushed onwards, fulfilling his own desires and ambitions at the cost of those he valued most.

And every time he was rebuffed or refused he still let loose that explosive, uncontrollable temper- the same temper that made him turn on the Tuskens so long ago; the same blind rage that made him turn on Padmé. The same temper that now made him turn on his son at the slightest provocation, argument after argument, unable to back down despite everything he claimed to comprehend.

And now he saw it in Luke; when he held firm before those outbursts, undaunted. When he stood unyielding against Palpatine just as he did with his father... Tempered though; contained and directed in a way that Anakin never could. As Vader had once said to his son, Luke was equal parts Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Naberrie.

What would Padmé have said had she been here now; seen what was happening to her son. What Vader had allowed to happen... what he had instigated. A wave of guilt washed through him at that - at what he was doing to his son... what he was making him become - the path he was knowingly locking the boy in to.

And yet... his son's destiny shouldn't be his own bleak existence; the boy still embodied the power Vader had long since lost. He had a chance to step beyond his father's fate... if only he would reach out and take it.

If only he would challenge Palpatine.

How could he not want such power- complete dominion; over the Force, the Empire... everything. The galaxy turning on his decree. Vader had come so close... so close to that power- but the Fates had stolen it away and twisted the knife by leaving him alive to serve the one who gained it.

But his son - his son could take that power and make it his own.

If only he would challenge Palpatine.

Yet he remained in the Emperor's shadow, as discontented and as disillusioned and resentful as Vader was, poisoned by Palpatine's manipulations when he could so easily step beyond them.

If Vader but knew the reason he held back... whatever it was, he would correct it. Give Luke the chance at dominion that he had never had; ascendancy. He owed the boy that. He had placed him on this path, had locked him into this fate. If he could only discover what held him in check he would eradicate it.

Whatever the cost, he would remove it.

He owed the boy that... for himself and for Padmé.

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Palpatine stood to the far side of the long, empty Reception Hall in his Council Chambers, waiting... considering;

Was this the right path?

He remembered again the vision- he had seen it so many times now that it was etched into his mind. For two decades he had seen the wolf in the darkness; fleeting glimpses, hidden in the shadows; pale, feral eyes in cold moonlight...

Then eight years ago the vision had shifted; the Death Star had been destroyed and for the first time the shadow in the darkness had come closer... closer every year as the facts of why fell so perfectly at his feet, until when he turned, it was there beside him, kneeling silent and still. only it was no longer the wolf; it was the boy whose very existence he had been unaware of; Skywalker. Palpatine's wolf.

And then the vision changed; subtly every time, the smallest details, the finest increments, some points fluid, others fixed.

Always, his wolf stood and held out his hand - and always the same thing was in it; a lightsaber. Vader's lightsaber.

And here subtle variations whispered - for years the boy had said just two words to his Master; "Take it."

But as time passed he had said more... "Take it- or it will kill you."

Undoubtedly the vision had changed as events had done likewise.

Mara's revelation that Vader had been in contact with Skywalker was unexpected... and unwelcome. Vader had always held the ambition to rule, Palpatine knew that. But his duel with Kenobi on Mustafar had ensured that he never had the power to back up his desire, and Palpatine's complete control, instilled in childhood, had guaranteed that he never had the resolve.

Unlike his son. Skywalker had the ability and the audacity to challenge Palpatine, yet not the desire. The boy despised the Empire and all it stood for, Palpatine knew that. He remained only because the Emperor had ensured that he detested the Rebellion with equal zeal and because Palpatine had invested great time and effort in taming his wolf, instilling in it the knowledge that to leave would bring down his Master's wrath on all about him... and by ensuring that his wolf had quite simply no-where else to go.

But combine those two spirits, one with the desire but not the ability and one with the ability but not the desire... and together they could form a real threat-

And that was unacceptable.

He simply couldn't afford to keep them both any longer- particularly with the boy's burgeoning power.

Of course, Palpatine knew that his work with Skywalker wasn't finished yet, though he had already devoted long years to creating his perfect Sith advocate - as he had done with the boy's father until Kenobi had robbed him of his new apprentice. Or rather, of the apprentice Palpatine had anticipated... by limiting Anakin's contact with the Force.

Strange that Palpatine hadn't known that when he had poured those years of careful manipulation into Anakin- hadn't predicted Kenobi.

But then, one's ability to read the future was often clouded by the presence of even a single Jedi; they were, by their very nature, facilitators of change... and sometimes the Force flowed to its own ends...

Yet in the final analysis it had been for the best, though Palpatine wouldn't have believed it at the time- so perhaps the loss of Anakin had indeed been guided by the Force. Because Palpatine still had his Empire- and now he had Anakin's son, who was all that Anakin would have been and more, because he was a greater challenge to control; to bring to heel.

And therein lay the attraction.

Recognizing with Anakin that this line deserved a more measured, less hasty initiation, Palpatine had used whatever was available to bring his plans to fruition. In his Sith alter-ego of Darth Sidious, Palpatine's actions were carefully measured to manipulate Anakin over an extended time period. Now it was Vader, whose actions - his very presence - were always so easy to exploit when moulding Skywalker.

And patience, of course. Like a piece of art, the joy was equal parts creation, appreciation and ownership.

And in the meantime, Skywalker was now stable enough to take his rightful place. He knew the boy now; felt confident that he could accurately predict his reaction, which would be extreme, but manageable. As with all his apprentices, the art was part knowing when to make the decisive moves, and part perceiving what those moves should be.

"Take it" His Wolf had said time and again of Vader's saber; "Take it or it will kill you."

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As Amedda opened the tall doors at the far side of the expansive room to announce Lord Vader's arrival, Palpatine searched his soul for any trace of regret, but found none. Nor did he derive any excitement from the knowledge of the upcoming duel; not even satisfaction at being able to move so decisively against one who had betrayed him...

Instead, he found his whole mind given over to eager anticipation of the manipulations required to contain his new Sith on his return...

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Vader strode confidently forward as the heavy door swung closed behind him, the Emperor awaiting him at the far side of the sombre hall, his back to the room, not turning to acknowledge his acolyte as Vader stepped down into a low bow. Resolutely setting aside all personal thoughts and sentiments to focus his attention on the present situation, Vader paused on bended knee for long seconds...

And felt something in that moment- a susurration that buzzed through his senses in the charged atmosphere; something unsettling in the Emperor's stillness.

"Have you spoken with your son today?" Palpatine asked absently without turning away from the tall slim windows.

Vader frowned slightly, the reaction concealed by the mask he had hidden behind for so long. It was a strange question... for so many reasons. Palpatine never referred to Luke as Vader's son- not to his face. Nor had he ever asked this directly before... and why ask at all, if he believed he knew Vader's every move?

"No Master." Vader stated simply, rising as he did so. It was, strictly speaking, true.

The Emperor only nodded, his back still to Vader, "He is... difficult to read. To predict. To control."

Vader remained still, uncertain what his Master wanted of him.

The Emperor turned slowly, hands tucked into the voluminous sleeves of his gown, "But I think that the error is partly mine. You see, he cannot be controlled too closely; pull the leash too tight and he begins to resist. Of course some things can only be learned with hindsight, but I now believe... I believe in order to control him one must instead control his surroundings; his connections. My error was in not realising that sooner- but knowing it now, I will correct it."

Vader was still, the uneasy twist of menace that had coiled about him now shivering up his spine, tensing muscles.

Silence hung expectant in the still air as the Emperor paused, pale, ochre eyes lost in consideration.

"Do you remember the Prophesy, my friend- The Son of Suns?" Palpatine set his head to one side in contemplation, "Prophesies and visions are such vague things; they have so many interpretations."

He finally turned to Vader, yellow eyes aglow, "Do you feel you have balanced the Force? You certainly evened the score; created symmetry- in retrospect only four of us remained for a long time; two Jedi and two Sith..."

"The Force was in balance- it had not been so for many decades." Vader said neutrally, uncertain of his Master's itinerary.

"Yes..." Palpatine smiled at Vader's interpretation; he had always been so literal, content never to look beyond the obvious. "But I always believed the Prophesy was something more - it stood for so long; surely it could not be as simple as that."

Palpatine paused, eyes hooded beneath that heavy, disfigured brow as he considered, "It is shadows whose edge define the light, at the brink of the dawn and the Darkness." He quoted from the prophesy, "Light and darkness... one cannot exist without the other. Light, by its very existence, creates shadows, and it is darkness which defines the existence of light. And yet we separate them so completely... believe them incompatible ... irreconcilable. Perhaps they were..."

The realisation of what Palpatine was suggesting came to Vader in a burst of comprehension- of Luke, of how much remained carefully hidden. Of his nebulous, indefinable sense within the Force - of the moment long ago in the Medicentre when, racked with pain and appallingly injured, his son had reached unthinkingly into the Force for healing- and accomplished it.

But Darkness did not heal. Darkness could not heal.

He remembered sensing that fleeting glimpse beneath the boy's shields, that particular mindset; the willingness to merge without loss of self, to surrender without submission into the Force. Darkness never surrendered... so it was not this that the boy had touched, yet... he recalled again that momentary contact, searching to categorise it as it had slipped away, diffuse and veiled.

It was not Light, nor was it Darkness - it was... both and neither, defying classification.

Palpatine had always told Vader that he was created by the Force- brought into existence by it... by the power and the will of Darkness, his Master claimed... so how could Vader's connection be anything more? Intense as it was, how could it be more?

But hadn't Vader said... He'd told the boy so often, yet never listened to his own words- that Luke was the sum of both himself... and Padmé.

And Padmé was nothing but Light...

Could their son contain both aspects of the Force? Was it possible for one being to hold the two in balance?

Had Vader created that which fulfilled the Prophesy - the balance of Light and Darkness...

Palpatine had turned slowly away to stare out across the metropolis once more, that tense stillness cloaking him, true intent hidden beneath darkness and shadows.

"You have served me well, lord Vader..." Palpatine nodded, thin lips pulled back into an empty smile, "But I should have recognised that your work was done the day that your son arrived here. Your usefulness at an end. I should have seen... realised that balance of Light and Darkness which you brought to me is the fulfilment of the Prophesy - ultimate power - because whoever controls it truly commands all aspects of the Force."

The Emperor nodded, speaking as much to himself as to his acolyte, voicing aloud his conclusions, grating tone low and emotionless, "Whoever controls the boy commands everything - elemental power in all its aspects - and I can never truly do that whilst you are alive. He will always look to you, I see that now. And I will correct it."

Vader saw the glint, the slightest reflection of sunlight on metal as Palpatine unfolded his arms, and knew what was in his Master's hand.

But then, hadn't he always known that it would come to this? Only not quite like this. He'd always thought it would be some bitter, incensed fury, some mindless frenzy of rage and wrath which brought him to this point. Not this... this peerless honour, this ultimate accolade - proof undeniable that his son looked to him, respected him... valued him. He himself, not his ability; that was nothing to the boy. And to know this, to know it absolutely, to hear it spoken by one who would never give such recognition lightly, finally gifted Vader the realisation of what that connection meant to him...

Not the awareness of what Luke was; his power or his potential, nor the fulfilment of the Prophesy which Vader had dragged like chains about him his whole life... but realisation that his son loved him- that this bond was so deep that nothing Palpatine ever did could eradicate it; nothing. Because it was a part of Luke... as it was a part of Vader.

The knowledge... was like sunlight on bare skin, warming him through to the depths of his soul. And he hadn't felt that for a lifetime.

And now, finally he knew what had held Luke in check... knew why the boy would never take that final step. It wasn't himself his son was protecting - it was Vader. Hadn't Luke said as much when he'd been injured - the very first time he'd spoken to his father about ousting Palpatine - hadn't he said even then that if he came to power, it would put him in direct contention with his father.

And his actions with Palpatine; always wavering between uneasy capitulation and stubborn defiance regardless of the consequences, always unstable, always unpredictable. Just enough that Palpatine wouldn't yet risk removing Vader.

Did he know- did the Emperor comprehend just how much sway he held over the boy in Vader?

Because here - here was the answer. To everything. Palpatine had no concept of just how deep the connection between father and son ran- how could he? He knew only lies and manipulation; the concept of sacrifice was beyond him. Selflessness; compassion. For all his reliance on soulless technology to keep him alive, Vader felt in that moment that he had more humanity within him than his Master could ever hope to perceive.

Which was why Palpatine would never realize...

Vader felt some pang of guilt at taking this decision from his son; in knowing that his actions now would force Luke's hand. But whilst he was alive his son will always seek to protect him; by Luke's own choice, he would never come to power whilst Vader was alive.

Any price, Vader recalled; any price to free his son's hands... they weren't empty words.

This was his chance at reprieve; to atone for his own blind ambition, which had dragged his son centre-stage. It had been Vader's choice to set him on this path... or perhaps it had been Obi-Wan's, for he surely knew that if he trained the boy, then Luke would be instrumental in the turning of the Fates one way or another.

No- it would be so easy to lay the blame elsewhere, as he had done so often in the past. No.

He had chosen this path, for himself and then his son. And it would stop... now.

Beneath his hated mask, within the prison his Master had made for him, Vader smiled- truly smiled- testing old scars which had held him from this for long, dry years.

But today they could not restrain, they could not impede. Today they were nothing at all. Today he smiled, knowing the Emperor could not see.

He sensed a momentary connection; a brushing against his heightened awareness - a silent question from his son, a brief seeking of reassurance, the distance extreme... and for the last time he reached out to the complex interplay of light and darkness that his son embodied. He sent that assurance, a solace, a tranquil serenity that this was the right thing to do; an apology that even in this, he was taking free choice from his son's hands... then he allowed the peaceful, composed calm to flood the boy's panicked realization from his mind, distancing him. Now was not the time for regrets; he was done with them. He'd given them reign for too long and he wouldn't give them this moment. This moment was one of pride; of triumph, of ascendency.

Padmé would be proud of him-

He looked to his Master, and the words came easily. He wouldn't understand, Vader knew, but it didn't matter; he knew of what he spoke... Because now, finally Vader comprehended what Obi-Wan had said to him so long ago-

And now, he offered the same to his own blind aggressor- in neither defence nor intimidation, but with the same dignified, assured composure; that pacific calm within the Force which gifted an absolute knowledge of what his sacrifice could accomplish-

"If you cut me down... you will make me more powerful than you could possibly imagine."

Lightsaber igniting Palpatine turned on him, yellow eyes ablaze, hissing like the serpent he was...

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CHAPTER THIRTY

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Vader was dead.

Palpatine was unavailable and Court already cancelled, the Council Chambers above and below the Throne Room eerily empty when Mara arrived in the South Tower, deeply disquieted, walking empty halls in hushed apprehension.

Vader was dead... and Mara was inescapably implicated in the death of Luke's father.

Everything was spiralling out of control with terrifying speed.

She'd returned to her quarters, uncertain what to do, when the comm had come in from Reece; that Luke had and sprinted off, taken an I-TIE, answering no hails, his course directly toward the Palace...

Mara broke the tip from the small glass vial and loaded the single dose into the dart, twisting the dart into the barrel, little more than a gas-powered, rifled tube. When she pushed the safety on, her hand was trembling. She tucked the compact gun into her back pocket, telling herself that she was doing this for Luke- that if he came back to face the Emperor now, both parties would be livid. Palpatine would turn on Luke with a vengeance and Luke would goad him on, outraged. Neither would even attempt to contain or restrain themselves.

It could only end one way.

And for what? Vader was dead- nothing Luke did would change that.

But she could stop it escalating- if she stopped Luke before he made it to the Emperor.

She knew that to do this she'd have to incapacitate him... and there was only one reliable way to do that. Her hand moved again to the loaded dart gun and she pulled it free, checking compulsively that the drug was loaded; that the dart was in the chamber, that the chamber was charged with gas, aware that ultimately this would leave him prey to the Emperor's fury for his part in the deceit... but better that than an all-out confrontation.

She was dong this for Luke...

She was doing this for Luke.

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The I-TIE came in hot, batting down like a banshee, slewing across the landing platform as the forward thrusters battled with the antigrav, the canopy blown clear as it skittered to a grating halt, Luke lurching out.

Mara set forward across the landing platform, arms before her, palms up, hoping to calm him, to interject.

Luke shouted from ten steps away, striding forward, "Where is he?!"

Mara shook her head as she walked towards him, unable to do anything but answer, such was the tone in his voice, "He's in the Throne Room. But..."

"Not Palpatine- my father. Where?"

She was shaking her head, distraught, "Luke, listen to me..."

"WHERE!!"

Mara shook her head again in mute appeal, reaching out for him as she neared him, but he twisted by without pausing; without even looking, rage rolling from him like a stormfront.

She reached out, grabbing for his arm as he passed and he turned, knocking her free. For a second she thought he would turn away and keep walking; perhaps that was what he'd intended, but his fury burst through and he reached out, hand snatching her throat, dragging her about and powering her backwards until she hit the Tower wall hard enough to see stars.

Still he held tight against her neck, leaning in, eyes wild and furious and desolate, a glowing rim of ochre at the edge of glacial-blue. He pressed in, eyes hardening, Mara's vision tunnelling as she fought for breath.

One hand to his, still tight about her throat, Mara fumbled her free hand to her back pocket, pulling out the small dart gun and pressing it to his neck and just for an instant he froze - then his eyes iced over and he shook his head fractionally, furious at her for this and himself for allowing it; for forgetting one last time where her loyalties lay.

Mara dragged a breath in about his hand, still tight to her throat, remembering when he had made her blaster misfire, "You can't beat it every time Luke- you said yourself if there's sufficient gas in the chamber to ignite..."

She left the rest unsaid, the apology and guilt audible in her broken voice, another breath dragged past his unyielding hand.

"Go ahead Mara- press the trigger." he hissed, "I'd expect no less- not from you."

When she didn't move, remained stock-still, he leaned in further, the hostile resentment of his betrayal clear, "I won't try to stop it. Take a side- make a choice; you seemed to find it pretty easy when you didn't have to look me in the eye."

His free hand shot up, snaking about her wrist- but he didn't twist the gun aside, didn't pull it away. Wouldn't make that choice for her.

"Press the trigger." he goaded in a whisper, eyes afire. "What have you got to lose Mara? You couldn't wound me any more today- you couldn't possibly bring me any lower."

They remained frozen, green eyes locked on fiery blue... and Mara felt her eyes well up with tears, felt them burn down her cheeks-

Her hand fell loose, the dart gun clattering onto the polished stone and for brief seconds his hand closed about her neck, jaw tense, eyes hard...

Then he wrenched away without a word, leaving her alone on the platform, not once looking back as she slid slowly down the wall at her back, gasping for breath.

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The walls of the Throne Room were many feet thick, the only natural light in the cavernous four-storey space entering through narrow floor-to-ceiling slits, barely windows, to either side of the dais. Now, with the fiery light of the setting sun, they cast long, blood-red blades across the polished floor to either side of the throne, tracing broken lines across the first of the massive fluted columns set the length of the long hall. Far above, almost at the level of the glowing golden mosaics in the vaulted ceiling, a small, circular window cast a hazy pool of golden-red light to one side of the throne, already in darkness.

Stood to the rear of the raised dais, Palpatine had watched, transfixed, the slow progress of this scarlet disk across the dais as the sun had set, its course almost intersecting now with the pale polished marble of the wide circle set into the floor of the Throne Room, half to the front edge of the raised dais, the other half set into the Throne Room floor beyond, together describing a perfect circle.

As they neared, his focus changed from the ruby reflection to the complex marble inlay of the circle, a dark, dull scarlet at its edges. It had once graced the floor of the Jedi Council Chamber; it never failed to amuse him that it was now here, beneath his throne, all who approached him kneeling on it...

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When he heard the commotion in the wide hall outside the Throne Room the Emperor didn't look, instead turning away to gaze out through narrow slit-windows and across the metropolis.

There were eight Royal Guard at the door and he'd given orders that he wasn't to be disturbed - the only way Skywalker could enter was by going through them and furious as he was, Palpatine doubted that he would choose to take them down. Or if he did, it would place him already in the wrong. So the game began-

There was a single burst of blaster fire, the ricochet loud against the reinforced doors - then silence.....

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The massive double doors to the Throne Room burst open, rebounding on their hinges, slamming shut with a resounding boom which made the heavy inlaid metal screens about the walls tremor on their slides.

Palpatine remained still, stood to the rear of the dais in the deserted, shadowed hall, the bass sound reverberating about the grand space before the room fell back to heavy, hushed stillness.

Luke paced forward in grim silence, striding onto the dais without bowing or speaking, his breath already heavy from the clash with the Red Guard.

Palpatine did not move from the window or turn to face the boy as he came to a stop, offering no reprimand at the breach of protocol inherent in simply stepping onto the dais; to do so without the express permission of the Emperor was strictly forbidden, but then the boy knew this well so it had been a conscious decision on his part.

"What do you want?" Palpatine eventually asked, voice curt and hard.

"To end this."

"Go back to your quarters." The Sith grated, dismissive voice broaching no argument, "I will deal with this breach of trust tomorrow."

Something clattered to a halt on the dais floor beside him, catching the fading light in a bright flash. Palpatine turned just slightly, the movement slow and studied... to look at Skywalker's lightsaber on the floor by his feet...

He turned slowly away again without comment.

"Pick it up." Luke growled, stepping closer.

Palpatine finally looked to his Jedi. He was holding his father's lightsaber, a flush of blood widening about a rip in the gray vinesilk of his shirt sleeve, darkening to an ever-larger stain, the polished band to the centre of the lightsaber he held smeared with a scarlet slick- Vader's lightsaber.

The vision...the vision which had plagued Palpatine burst through his thoughts... of his Jedi holding Vader's lightsaber, hand and saber dripping with blood which seeped into the hem of Palpatine's cloak.

He looked slowly down... as the boy had thrown his own saber at Palpatine's feet, the deep wound on his forearm had flicked out a long trail of blood-red spots which spattered the edge of Palpatine's crimson gown, blooming out almost black in the low light. A slow drip fell from the unlit tip of Vader's lightsaber to the floor at the boy's foot, unnoticed.

Long seconds passed, in which Palpatine recognized the threat that he was facing - just how incensed his Jedi truly was... and for the first time he questioned whether he could control the wolf he had created; considered what it was capable of in this state-

Still, he would not concede the advantage so easily; he could yet force the boy to back down- had done so many times in the past.

"Did I teach you nothing?" he dismissed, turning away with studied assurance. "Never fight with an unfamiliar weapon- it's a glaring disadvantage."

"Then you should take the opportunity." Skywalker invited.

Without turning round, Palpatine fell back on the ultimate threat, rasping voice deadly quiet. "If you fight me now, I will destroy you. Do you understand?"

But his Jedi laughed - actually laughed - tone derisive, both of Palpatine's words and his own life, past caring anymore. "I'm nothing, Master- how many times have you told me that? I'm nothing- worthless, so how does my death matter? Who would care? I'm willing to die today if I can take you with me. I'd think that a fair exchange."

"Are you sure?" Palpatine countered calmly, though the first trails of alarm worried at his thoughts.

"I'm very sure." His Wolf said simply, and meant it. But he wasn't beyond the detached logic which enabled him to turn his Master's manipulations back on him- he'd learned his lessons too well. "You once told me that I should choose my battles, Master- only fight that which I was completely committed to winning. Well this it it - the one fight that I would pay any price to win. I just never knew quite what that was- until now."

He loosed a feral grin, the hand which held his father's lightsaber disappearing behind his back as he turned slightly, changing his weight to set slowly forward, moving to a combat-ready stance. "And you, Master- are you willing to die today?"

"No." Palpatine said, aware that his Jedi was subtly closing the space between them to striking distance, "I have told you before, I am a hard man to kill."

"And I told you the first time we met that I was not my father- you'd never control me as you did him. I told you then I'd kill you given the chance."

"And you think this is it?" Palpatine grated derisively, "You're gravely mistaken."

"Pick it up." Luke countered, unmoved.

"Look at you- you're injured already." Palpatine put all his confidence and control into his next words; to instil doubt, force the boy to back down, "You haven't the power to stand against me- not yet."

But Luke had lived too long in the Emperor's shadow now- he knew his mindgames and powerplays, knew how they worked, how to stand against them- and how to make them his own. So he only smiled wickedly against Palpatine's words, countering conviction with conviction.

"Yes I have- and you know it."

"You have no idea what I am capable of- don't make the mistake of judging me by what you have seen." Palpatine warned. "I am not your father- I will not hold back."

"No, you're not my father- so I'd caution you the same." Luke countered, unfazed.

Palpatine wavered just a fraction at the insinuation; had the boy been holding back- hiding his abilities?

Luke turned his father's lightsaber to a better grip, eyes expectant and committed and wild.

"How does it feel... Master?" he taunted into the Sith's wary silence, head dropping down and to the side, twists of unruly hair falling against old scars, mismatched eyes never leaving Palpatine's. "Nervous? Or are you simply appreciating the irony of the situation... because you did this- every time you tightened the noose around my neck you tightened it around your own."

Palpatine tried again, the threat which had held the boy for so long uttered from sneering lips, "If you lift that blade against me, Mara Jade's life is forfeit, do you understand? No second chance."

But the boy only shook his head slowly, amused, "Is that all you have left, Master? She's a poor bargaining chip - I know it's she who told you."

Intending to bring this confrontation to a decisive stop, Palpatine slowly moved his hand behind his back as Skywalker spoke, reaching subtly out into the Force, summoning the Darkness, feeling it tingling at the tips of his fingers...

"Don't dare..." his Wolf growled, head dropping, body tensing, "Don't even think that I will let you."

Palpatine glanced down as Skywalker threw his father's saber from his left hand to his right, voice low, the threat absolute, his feral Jedi's warning issued in a hissing whisper; "Call it to you now and I'll rip you to pieces..."

The Emperor paused - actually hesitated beneath the assertion in that vow, issued with absolute malice through tight jaw. It froze his blue-tinged hand behind his back as his eyes went to Skywalker's left hand, out of sight as he had twisted his body side on, wondering if his Jedi could do this- if he had the ability, the knowledge, the will to summon Force-lightening. Knowing that if he did, he wouldn't hesitate- not now, when all control he'd held was lost.

Was it a bluff, or was the threat real?

Slowly, Palpatine allowed the radiant blue-white corona to dissipate unused...

.

Luke circled, committed past fear, mind crystal clear, watching every minute move Palpatine made, waiting for the subtle shift which would betray his intent.

"Do you remember the vision Master?" he said when the Sith remained still, "The wolf hunting in the dead of night, black against black. We've both seen it, in nightmares and visions... That's why you gave me the name, isn't it?"

"What of it?" Denial was pointless; they both knew the truth.

"All these years, ever since I was a child, I had that dream... the black wolf... always there- sometimes so close it was in my shadow. And every time I heard its breath; when I heard the scratch of its claws against stone as it set forward... I turned and ran." He tilted his head again, eyes barely visible as twists of hair fell forward, a cold smile curving the deep scar through his lips. "I was wrong. All this time, all these years... I always ran from the wolf."

"You could never run from the wolf- it was in you, part of you. You are the wolf."

"No, I'm not the wolf. But you're right- it is part of me. Because I doubted- I doubted my own ability, my judgement, my motives, my intent... and no matter how fast you run, those doubts always stay with you- just in your shadow. I think it's time to turn and face the wolf."

"You're wrong." Palpatine grated, instilling years of ingrained confidence and control into his words, willing the boy down. "The wolf is Darkness and destiny. You are the wolf."

"Perhaps I'm your wolf, Master. But then you always knew that, didn't you?" He held his ground, unmoved, expression wild and menacing, coldly amused. "Perhaps we both turn and face our wolves tonight."

Palpatine's eyes narrowed, knowing now that this fight could not be avoided, that the boy would not back down, adrenaline and regret entwined at the realisation that he would have to destroy that which he had invested so much in creating.

A work of art, glorious and vicious and deadly, honed to perfection... too volatile though; too assertive now, too hostile to leave alive. The next generation would be easier to control, more pliant, owned and indoctrinated from birth.

But it would never be the same. Not as this wild thing, this feral twist of lost hope and bitter pain and raw power. It would never be this.

He had never truly owned it- not as he would have wanted- to do that would have destroyed it. But what glorious destruction, a trail of fire and desire to burn all other considerations to ash. Perhaps he should have done so anyway, just to know the rapture of possession, because now it was lost to him forever.

His eyes flicked momentarily to the lightsaber at his feet and Skywalker didn't miss the action. "Pick it up- or so help me I'll cut you to pieces unarmed."

"No you won't." Palpatine said, "Because you're weak. You always were. I never did quite wring that last shred of compassion from you. You will always be a disappointment to me- just like your father."

With a feral yell part fury part grief, Luke launched forward and Palpatine dropped his own lightsaber from his sleeve, igniting the blade with the Force as it fell, swinging it up to lash out a quick strike into his Jedi's face.

It was a perfect blow flawlessly delivered and it should have taken Skywalker's head from his shoulders...

Luke dodged the unexpected blade at the last second, twisting to the side as he buckled his knees, igniting his father's saber as he dropped down onto one hand, his blade whipping out as he did so to force Palpatine back.

He turned the move into a fast, one-handed backflip and came up quickly, twisting about, hand outstretched against the heavy stone plinth which Palpatine had launched towards him from the base of the dais, his countering Force smashing it to fine debris which exploded out about them, stinging bare flesh as Luke turned full circle, sabre raised to counter the incoming blow-

.