In Shadows and Darkness

Chapter 3

CHAPTER TWO

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Leia leaned in, studying the image closely, Mon Mothma and General Madine doing the same.

Taken secretly from a distance with no sound, hand-held and compressed to smuggle it out, the grainy 2-D image showed three Lambda-class shuttles settling to a smooth landing, twelve of the Empire's new Interatmosperic TIE fighters overflying in tight formation as they did so. From the first two shuttles, full squads of stormtroopers marched in perfect unison- the 701st Leia recognised, from the dark blue pauldren on their shoulders. They formed two wide double-lines at the entrance ramp of the third shuttle, Neimoidia's official representatives shuffling nervously as the ramp lowered.

A man walked down, long cloak billowing in the fierce wind, high collar turned up. Following him were the same two humans who accompanied him everywhere- a tall, wide built man with dark hair and olive skin and a lithe, slim redhead with the kind of athletic frame and bearing that suggested a lifetime of training, her eyes everywhere, always tensed for action.

The cloaked man strode forward confidently, completely at ease, indisputably in command.

Leia frowned, squinting at the image of the man she had known so well- and not at all.

"Were our people out?" she asked, eyes still on the screen.

"Yes." Mothma assured, voice uneasy, "He'll work it out though; he always does."

"It doesn't really matter- it's too late now." Madine said. "Everything's underway. They only need stall him for a few more weeks."

Leia turned on him, "And the Neimoidians?"

He looked away, contrite.

"They'll pay the price for helping us when this all kicks off." Leia said, frustrated, turning back to the image.

"And how long do you think they will stall a Sith?" Mon asked absently, eyes on the image.

"There's no-one left there who was involved - he can't pull from them what they don't know." Madine murmured, thoughts as ever on the greater mission.

The cloaked man stood before the Neimoidians, who all bowed nervously - with good reason, Leia knew. She frowned in scrutiny as he waved one hand in dismissal or refusal, cutting them off, speaking briefly to the assembled dignitaries and planetary representatives before walking through them, forcing them to step aside submissively, heads down, body language apprehensive and anxious; whatever he had said, it had panicked them.

He walked from the landing platform without looking back, stormtroopers filing in behind him. At its edge he paused, turning his head to the side, waiting for the slim redhead to catch up. She did so, raising on the balls of her feet as she was little more than shoulder-high to him. He spoke, gesturing with his hand... pointing directly into the long-distance lens filming him. He kept his gaze on it for a few seconds more, the redhead pulling a comm from her belt and glancing up.

Obviously realising that his cover was blown, the agent who was filming stood to make a hasty retreat, the view of the landing field shaking wildly and twisting to its side, giving a fleeting image of the camouflaged hide he'd been in, incoming fighters visible in a momentary glimpse of the sky.

"They bombed the bluff he was on, but our agent managed to get out." Mon Mothma reached down to reverse the image as she spoke, rocking it forward again to play out from the moment The Commander had stalked through the assembled dignitaries, making them back away deferentially.

Leia frowned in scrutiny, eyes on... whoever he was; certainly not the name he had once used here; Luke Skywalker's past trailed into nothing when the Bothans had tried to track it back three years earlier, just months after he'd inexplicably shown up in Cloud City. He was looking up the lens again now, giving Leia the unnerving feeling that he was staring straight at her. "He's so...."

"Different." Mon Mothma finished at last, watching the soundless recording, the image enhanced and the shake stabilised to give it clarity. This was as close as they got to him now- as close as anyone got to him. "Changed. Or perhaps not at all - perhaps this was always his true self."

"Do you think he was ever one of us?" Leia asked, the slightest tremor of hope in her voice even now.

Madine slowly shook his head, "Think about it- think about what he could do and where he said he came from. His abilities and his background just didn't add up."

"Why didn't we question it at the time?" Leia asked, then in answer to her own query, she murmured, "He seemed so...genuine. So sincere."

"So did Palpatine before he took office." Mon Mothma replied, unmoved.

Leia sighed, tucking a stray lock of auburn hair behind her ear, still unable to believe she had been fooled so completely, almost three years after Luke had returned to the Emperor.

Madine shook his head slowly "He has to be Vader's son - he's so like him." It was one fact they'd never managed to substantiate, rumours abounding that he was the Sith Lord's son. But then there were just as many which linked him to an even greater threat-

"No-" Mothma said, eyes narrowing in consideration, "Like the Emperor."

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"I thought you'd have been in the Command Centre today." Leia said casually to Han over dinner, sat on the pressed plassteel seats of the mess hall. They were tired to the bone, but this was their only remaining opportunity to steal any real block of time together when they were both at least partway awake. Han's promotion to A-Wing's Flight Commander had caused all kinds of complications, not least of all the fact that Leia knew he'd be Unit Commander in another year or so, which meant that even this time would be taken away by duties and commitments.

She glanced down unenthusiastically at her plate. "There were some new images of The Commander from the Bothans. He's backtracked Madine's operation to Neimoidia already. They've covered their presence there and the fact that they were supplying us with technology from the manufacturing plants at the Kuat shipyards, but losing that source will slow us down... it's months of planning up the..."

"The kid? How's he doin'?" Han turned, face lighting. He'd never accepted the truth, Leia knew; he'd always believe that Luke was... Luke.

Leia shrugged, "Sharp as ever. And he's not a kid, he's twenty-five."

Han grinned, clearly speaking of an old friend as much as Leia felt she was now speaking of an old enemy. "Ah, he'll always be the kid to me, you know that."

She frowned, annoyed more at his determination to still speak of Luke in such terms than at his belief. But it was an old fight, and everything had been argued into exhaustion long ago, leaving their only option in this instance to agree to disagree. "He's the same age as me- am I a kid?"

Han leaned sideways to kiss her on the cheek, "No, you're a doll, sweetie."

"Suckup." she teased, unable to hide her amusement.

"Pushover." He grinned, tensing his arm against her incoming fist.

They each turned to their meals in silence for a few minutes, but Leia knew Han wouldn't let it go so easily- he just couldn't. Even now.

"I'm just saying-" He glanced up from his plate, weaving the food on his fork around before him, "That he's never done a thing against us - never lifted a hand."

"Because he's in command of the Core Systems, you know that." Leia reminded easily; the Core Systems were hardly the kind of place that the Alliance liked to be operating- especially now.

Han shrugged, unmoved "Whatever. All I'm saying is its pretty convenient; the one thing that I think Palpatine couldn't force him to do just happens to be the one thing he's not required to."

"For a cynic, you have a very gullible side." Leia accused lightly.

"I'm serious - name one time that he's actually come after us. He stops us, but that's it... he never follows up and finishes the job. Which is pretty rare for him, you gotta admit - he doesn't generally leave unfinished business, doesn't leave an enemy at his back... unless it suits him somehow. This Neimoidian thing will get handed over to Vader, you'll see."

"Because Vader's in charge of the counter-insurrection taskforce." Leia said, "He always has been."

"And Luke's in charge of the Core Systems and the Colonies. Neimoidia's his responsibility- doesn't that make it his jurisdiction?" Han countered.

"I'm not going to argue with you over this again." Leia said, tired of covering the same ground. Maybe because it upset her so much; it stung that she'd trusted Luke so completely- and been wrong. Been hurt. She could count on the fingers of one hand the number of beings she'd actually trusted that much - and she could count with just one finger the ones she'd been wrong about; one. Luke Skywalker.

It never stopped hurting...and she could never figure why.

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CHAPTER THREE

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Mara let not the slightest hint of triumph show on her face as the sabacc cards changed again, giving her the nine. Along with the four cards she had in the interference field, that totalled twenty-three - and a winning hand.

She was sat in Skywalker's quarters onboard the Peerless, the stars streaking past as they headed back to Coruscant, the Neimoidian incident suppressed and settled in less than four weeks - quite an accomplishment, ever for Skywalker. The price had been a month of very long days and very short nights if he rested at all, not one break taken from his duties, pursued to obsession as they always were with Skywalker. But he'd achieved the unthinkable; put down a planned insurrection, broken a specialist Alliance saboteur ring trained and re-established Imperial control with the minimum of resentment and maximum long-term efficacy.

Despite his rank in the Rebellion, Mara had held her doubts when her master had appointed Skywalker Commander in Chief of the Core Systems Military, but she'd learned to respect his judgement as again and again he'd proved his worth, both in small, frantic skirmishes and complex, system-wide insurrections. The huge amount of knowledge that Palpatine had imposed on him in his enforced incarceration when he'd first arrived on Coruscant must have crystallized it, but that kind of leadership required some innate abilities which couldn't be taught. The Rebellion had lost more than they knew when they'd abandoned Skywalker to the Emperor. But their loss - carefully manipulated by her master - was the Empire's gain, and Mara had developed a genuine respect for The Commander.

Did it make her job more difficult? No- they were both aware of what she was and why she was here, and each was professional enough to respect that. Palpatine trusted nobody; it wasn't in his nature, they both knew that- and neither were prepared to allow it to limit their friendship, which suited Mara perfectly.

Now, finally, they were off-duty - or as much so as the Commander ever was - so naturally, he was playing Sabacc... again. She glanced up at Skywalker. His expression had changed not a whit with the interference field's action. This time, she had him!

"I bet...fifty." She said at last, her voice very casual, tinged with the slightest hint of carefully-feigned self-doubt.

Which nontheless brought his eyes up, "Why, what do you have?"

"Put your credit down and I'll show you." Mara challenged, casually placing the nine face down in the interference field to freeze its value as she slid her own credits forward.

Luke looked down at it now, narrowing his eyes, "You don't have anything."

"Care to bet on that?"

He lifted his chin just slightly- which meant he was considering it, Mara knew. She knew him well now; almost three years of playing sabacc over countless tables had granted her that, as well as accompanying him on endless missions at her master's command. The Emperor had never rescinded his original order to Mara charging her with responsibility for Skywalker, and she still took it as seriously as she took every command from the Emperor, becoming Skywalker's de-facto bodyguard as well as his Aide. And his watcher of course; along with Reece- Palpatine trusted no-one. Mara still occasionally wondered who her watcher was...

"Fifty...?" he asked now, bringing her mind back to the game, her face a neutral mask, knowing he would be looking for subtle clues. He always did- in life and on the sabacc table. He played selectively, choosing with care the hands he betted on but betting aggressively when he did, not afraid to put his funds where his faith was. And every now and then, just to keep her on her toes, he'd bluff big style, always waiting until there were lots of chip-cards in the field, lots of possibilities in play. In life and on the sabacc table.

He narrowed his eyes at her now, running his free hand through loose, unruly curls to pull them from his face as he searched Mara's neutral expression looking for those clues. Use of the Force was strictly prohibited in their games, but in truth she couldn't really tell whether he did or not, her own abilities far too limited. Still, he claimed he didn't and Mara believed him- whatever else he was, he was still a man of his word.

"It defeats the object of the game." He'd maintained, when she accused him once.

"I don't believe you- the temptation's too great...and you always like to win." She'd charged.

"I didn't say I didn't want to win."

"And you never play by the rules." Mara added, remembering the countless times he had subtly adapted or worked the Emperor's direct command around his own needs, knowing that this had become a larger conversation now

"I play by my rules- you simply don't know them." He'd said, humour in his voice, purposely keeping the conversation light, as he always did with her.

"You don't have it." he repeated now. Mara lifted her eyebrows in expectant silence.

"...... One hundred." he said after a long pause, his voice issuing a hesitant question as he pushed the gently chinking pile of credits forward.

Mara's heart did a little flip at that - was he bluffing? Drawing her out? Or did he believe she was bluffing and he was trying to make her back down? He had three cards in the field, and they'd been locked in there for three rounds now... plus the table had just flipped the cards he held- had it given him a hand too?

What are you worried about, Jade- you have pure sabacc?!

"Fine." She pushed her chips forward, slapping the flat of her palm on the pulse-generator to stop it and freeze the cards at their present value. Then she reached down and turned her field-cards, a note of triumph in her voice, "Pure sabacc."

"Ah." Luke said lightly, turning the mismatched chip-cards in his hand over as he placed them down, Mara reaching for the credits, triumphant. "Array." He said simply, freezing her mid-reach.

"What!?" she reached out for his cards in the field, turning them over; the two, the three...and The Idiot face card grinned back at her. "Son of a...you've had those in there for ages- why didn't you play them?"

"I was waiting for you to put some serious currency down - I don't get an Array very often; I have to make the most of it." he said, amusement breaking through that detached calm- probably at the look on her face, Mara mused.

She slammed down the cards, as if it would make any difference. "You are so lucky at cards..."

"I like to think there's a little skill involved." he said, that perfect neutral façade slipping just a little, giving her a glimpse of Luke Skywalker behind the stony face of Palpatine's precious Sith. "You know what they say- lucky at cards..." he shrugged lightly, stepping up from the table without bothering to take the credits scattered there, knowing they wouldn't play again tonight.

Walking toward the side table where he'd left his drink he paused with his back to Mara, looking out into the glowing void of hyperspace. Probably because he'd realised that he'd let his guard drop just a little, Mara realised, and was uncomfortable with it, even in front of her. Though she didn't know why; she knew him better than anyone else- had seen him in pieces in the Palace cells when Palpatine's wrath was on him. She never judged him; she'd learned that from him-

Palpatine, her master as well as his- Palpatine always judged, and never kindly.

She glanced up at him, taking in the sight as she always did. He was slim and strong and... and she should stop that thought right there. Instead she spoke out, knowing the rest of the rhyme; "Unlucky in love."

"No- very rich." he said easily, turning those sharp sky-blue eyes toward her.

She took her leave around an hour later, Skywalker claiming tiredness, though Mara knew he was nothing of the sort. She would get a call in an hour or so from whoever was on watch to let her know that The Commander had returned to the Bridge and was working in his ready-room, as he often did well into the early hours of the morning. Or perhaps that he was in one of the exercise bays with his lightsaber, or that he had entered the 701st's restricted hold, or summoned the unit commander's to his quarters.

Whatever; he wouldn't sleep, she knew that. She could see that in his eyes, no matter how many times he beat her at sabacc.

He hadn't so much quietened down over the past few years as become more circumspect, more cautious in what he allowed to show and before whom, as Palpatine invested ever more time year on year in creating his perfect advocate. Emotions were something to be exploited in his Master's eyes, as well as in the treacherous Court which Luke was so often forced to endure on Coruscant.

Oftentimes he was calm, confident and centred, the Emperor's Dark Jedi, absolutely in command of himself and everything about him. Yet other times, he seemed so lost, so discontent and deranged as to crumple her heart in empathy, leaving her with the unsettling impression of a wild animal caged, pacing the same short path over and over in the solitary dead of nigh like a wolf howling at the moon, desperately trying to outpace the bars which caged it, knowing it never could. But she knew with absolute certainty that if she tried to reach out to offer it comfort in these bleak times it would lash out at her as surely as if she were its captor, so blinded by frustration did it become.

Which was real and which was the front? Both and neither, as she had often told the Emperor. The changes were mercurial, and Skywalker tolerated no pity or concern- nor for that matter did the Emperor.

Did she feel any guilt at making her reports? No- she'd never hidden her reason for being here, and eyes and ears were everywhere, Skywalker knew that. Though Mara knew she was among them, she at least prided herself on holding some sense of honour and integrity. And she knew Skywalker appreciated this; that he too held to his own moral code, skewed though it was. In this they were, she supposed, kindred spirits.

Which was as close as Skywalker came to genuine friendship these days.

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"I'm just sayin'," Han said defensively, eyes scrunched up against the bright light of hyperspace, pouring in from the viewscreen behind Leia's office desk and creating a diffuse halo affect about her, "What about the Death Star?"

Leia frowned from her cluttered desk, "Han..."

"What the hell was going on there, huh?" he interrupted, affecting his best offended, unbelieving tone, as if he felt she was surely arguing just for the sake of it, because he was patently right.

"Please-" Leia dismissed, frustration in her voice, as much at herself for being taken in so easily at the time as at Han for still holding faith now, when it was all so obviously a lie. "They needed information; a location. He broke me out so that I would lead him back to..."

"No, I'm talking about Yavin- when he blew that thing to dust. What was that about?" he was tired and cranky; everybody was.

Blue Group had made the fourteen-day journey flying escort to supply frigates a total of nine consecutive times now, and it was beginning to wear pretty thin for Han. Much like the seat of his flight suit from countless hours spent hanging around in lightspeed in an assortment of cold, bare-board supply frigates waiting for that burst of adrenaline as the Blues launched as they exited lightspeed, waiting to see if the Empire had caught up with them yet.

"I don't know why he bombed it. I don't have all the answers." Leia defended without looking up.

"That's a pretty big answer missing, sweetheart- 'cos that was one of the most expensive fireworks I ever saw."

She shrugged, anger quickly waning, tired of going over the same argument yet again. She had so much to do; they were trying to set up new bases on Rishi and Ord Biniir, almost a galaxy apart in terms of creating and sustaining supply lines. The last bases were out of the Core Systems now, no longer sustainable under pressure from the Imperial Fleet- under Skywalker's command, no matter what Han claimed to the contrary. But then Luke had always been an exceptional Commander even when he was here, hiding his true identity. He had the knack of seeing the greater picture, keeping his mind on the end goal, willing to use unanticipated, unorthodox means to achieve it. Madine, a tactical mastermind himself, always had such faith in him; 'Outstanding aptitude', he'd always quoted- 'he'll go far'. Leia laughed mirthlessy at that; he hadn't been wrong.

Han was still sat on the edge of Leia's desk looking at her expectantly, and she glanced up at him, hoping that he would take the hint that she was too busy to go through this again, "Ackbar wondered if it had some basic flaw."

"Seemed to work pretty good to me." Han replied- and instantly regretted it at the haunted look in her mahogany-brown eyes. "Sorry- I'm sorry."

She shook her head, nothing to say against those memories. All of them- Alderaan, imprisonment... Vader.

And Luke- once again the rumours were doing the circuits; that he was Vader's son... was it true? The son of the man who had tortured her on the death star. The man who'd stood behind her and watched her world, her people, everything destroyed. Was it his son who had come to her in her darkest hour, claiming to be her saviour, knowing...knowing what his father had done.

Knowing that if he could deceive her, she'd lead him back to the Alliance base.

How could she have been so stupid?

How could he have been so cruel?

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CHAPTER FOUR

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General Veers didn't turn when an Aide entered the Emperor's Private Audience Chamber behind him- one did not turn one's back on the Emperor.

It was rare that the Super Star Destroyer Executor, Lord Vader's command and flagship of the Rim Fleet, came to Coruscant, but they had been recalled a few weeks earlier, though if Lord Vader knew the reason, he had chosen not to mention it to Veers- as had Emperor Palpatine in this private audience. Veers had made all his official reports of course, but this unofficial one was always made directly to the Emperor.

He was always invited to a private audience with Emperor Palpatine when on Coruscant - just to clarify that he was one of Palpatine's more valued agents in the field. Which was good, because Veers was an ambitious man, much like the man who left the Emperor's Audience Chamber before him, passing Veers as he waited patiently in the antechamber beyond. Beladon D'Arca, head of the powerful D'Arca family, strode by without a sideways glance, a contented smile on his smug face.

The D'Arca's sphere of influence ranged from connections by marriage into many prominent Royal Houses through to impressive military ties, with several family members awarded the rank of Moffs and Admirals, as well as maintaining extensive industrial links everywhere form the Core to the Rim, which kept them in the extravagant style to which they were so very accustomed.

They were fervent supporters of Emperor Palpatine; had been since the days of the waning Republic, willingly providing any backing in whichever form was required. As such, they'd remained always in the Emperor's favour and had prospered tremendously, favoured inter-system industrial contracts and auspicious military careers proof of their continued favour in Court.

What exactly had pleased D'Arca so very much today Veers didn't know, but he was sure it was in the Emperor's interest too, since when he entered the Audience Chamber, it was to a very self-satisfied Palpatine, smiling a yellow-toothed grin to no-one but himself .

Now, when Mas Amedda bowed formally before Palpatine at the edge of the dais and waited to be acknowledged before passing on his information, the Emperor grinned once more.

"My Jedi is in orbit." Palpatine announced contentedly to Amedda, who bowed in acknowledgement.

"Yes Excellency. His exact whereabouts however, is unknown."

"Explain." The Sith Master said, voice hardening.

"I contacted the Peerless and requested to speak to him, but was answered by Lieutenant Commander Reece, who stated that The Commander was unavailable at this time. I informed him that an official military reception had been prepared on the Palace landing platform and requested The Commanders projected arrival time and shuttle designation and he became... evasive."

To Veer's surprise, the Emperor seemed not in the least perturbed by this, the first signs of a grin tugging at the corners of his thin, cracked lips. "And where is he?"

"He has apparently taken an Interat TIE Interceptor and is... en-route to the Palace. I understand that Commander Jade followed." Amedda said neutrally.

The Emperor laughed out loud at this, completely unconcerned. "Inform my errant Jedi that I will see him upon his arrival."

As Amedda bowed and left, Palpatine turned again to his favoured General, taking the opportunity to address this point. "You seem...perturbed, my friend?" he invited.

"Forgive me, Excellency. I find I am perhaps a little... uncomfortable with The Commander's often... unorthodox actions." Veers explained politely, knowing better than to lie to his Emperor, but wishing to remain politic, knowing The Commander's favoured position.

"You disapprove of my feral Jedi?" the Emperor said , cutting through Veers' politeness.

The General bowed his head just slightly, "I acknowledge The Commander's tactical skills of course - I respect them very much - I simply... struggle with this... impulsive unpredictability. I find Your Excellency's disposition is far more indulgent than my own."

Palpatine still smiled, settling back; yes, he was indulgent with the boy- sometimes far too much so. But then, when he did use force, it was also without bounds.

"He is a Sith, my friend. All Sith need to be handled with due care." Palpatine said easily; Skywalker was still the wild thing pulling at his leash, and the Emperor knew full well that if he were to pull too hard or too often in return then every exchange would become a battle of wills. "He simply needs to stretch his wings. Now, he'll return to the Palace without trouble."

Veers nodded without truly understanding - how could he? How could anyone without an ability in the Force hope to comprehend the complexities and subtleties which existed within it? But he could perhaps grasp at its edges, which was important, because Palpatine had a place for him in his future Empire- and to fulfil it the General needed to see some glimpse at the larger picture, carefully distilled down into something he could revere.

"You should start learning how to deal with this particular Sith, General- he will rule my Empire when I am no more."

Veers raised his eyes, shocked, but Palpatine only smiled. "Do you find it so surprising that I should plan for my Empire to continue long after I'm gone? Or did you perhaps think I would hand it over to Vader?" Palpatine smiled, noting the subtle shift in Veer's sense with his realisation that he was, if not backing, then certainly giving empty lipservice to the wrong contender. "That would destroy it. Vader isn't strong enough to control my feral Jedi - he doesn't have the will to hold him in check. The legacy I have begun to build would crumble in just a few years. The moment I died, Skywalker would leave the Palace, taking anyone who remained loyal to him with him - and there would be many; he has built a solid base in the military - yourself excepted. It would divide my Empire in two and Skywalker would rip apart what was left in taking control from Vader - he would never accept him as Emperor - but he would take control in the end, despite Vader probably holding the greatest number of forces in my name."

Veers stared in open surprise- that The Commander would take power by force, that his Emperor was telling him this...

"No," Palpatine continued casually, voice little more than a murmur, as if lost in thought, "My Jedi will be Heir to the Empire. Only that will hold him and keep him here." It would be the only thing which would have held Palpatine in similar conditions, and as much as he told the boy he was his father's son, he now very much reminded Palpatine of himself. He would provide Palpatine's Empire with the power and the focus it needed to withstand any threat. And he would provide it with an all-important heir- a natural chain of succession. A Sith dynasty which would endure generations- in Palpatine's name.

"It's natural selection" Palpatine offered to Veers at last, "The strongest wolf will lead the pack."

Veers was silent, and Palpatine turned to him after a few seconds, knowingly. "You're wondering if that natural selection will cut in a little sooner- if my protégé will challenge my leadership?" He shrugged, supremely confident. "In all likelyhood he will- and I shall put this down decisively and without compunction, as I do any dissent. When one teaches a lesson, one should do it in a manner that will never be forgotten, otherwise one must teach the same lesson again and again."

The Emperor held yellow-flecked eyes on Veers, his gaze as sharp as ever, "I am not weak; when the challenge comes I will be ready. And it will- he would not be worthy as my Heir if he did not test those bounds." He turned away, self-assured as ever, "Yes, he has the power to lead you- as only a Sith can. To continue my Empire in my name, as I have decreed."

Now was the moment- to clarify Veers' part in this, to instil some sense of genuine commitment in the ambitious General, all be it self-serving. Enough to perhaps get him past Skywalker's close radar and into his trusted elite.

"If you were wise, General, you would look to beginning some kind of dialogue with your future leader. By the time he takes the throne, his own power base will be in place and there will be no room for latecomers. A request for transfer to the Core System Fleet and the Peerless would not be looked upon unfavourably." Palpatine let this final point dangle before he turned pointedly to Veers, confident and assured, "But remember who leads you now - and who will do so for the foreseeable future. When he takes power, it will be because I allowed it. By my decree and not before."

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The massive suite of rooms named 'The Cabinet' extended over a full floor of the South Tower of the monolithic Imperial Palace, and were the working place of Palpatine's personal ministers and aides, the site where the actual act of daily government of the countless systems of the extensive, far-reaching Empire took place. Situated immediately above the vast, four storey high Throne Room where Court was held daily from early evening well into the night, the Cabinet housed two huge, lofty ante-chambers leading to the Emperor's Private Audience Chambers, as well as the Emperor's personal offices and those of his favoured few, rooms here being awarded only to the 'established'; those personal advisors who had held high office for many years.

The equally impressively-appointed Council Offices one storey below the Throne Room, where sessions of the Ruling Council were met, also boasted offices for the most favoured, these too allocated and revoked at the Emperor's whim, as were individual invitations to attend Council or Court. Like apartments in the East Tower, offices carried great import; no-one understood better than the Emperor the art of enhancing the value of a favour, and once given, the fear of having this newfound status revoked held many-a Royal House or powerful individual to silence.

On being awarded command of the Core Fleet, Luke had been allocated two offices in the prestigious Cabinet. He had never once entered them, continuing to work in the private offices within his own apartments or those long-since allocated to him within the War Cabinet in the North Tower. Whether the Emperor knew this or not Luke had no idea, though he couldn't imagine Palpatine failing to note something of such import so close within his own sphere of influence. But his Master had never remarked upon it and the offices remained allocated to The Commander, their permanently closed doors visible at the end of the long corridor which stood just beyond the entrance to the ante-chamber of the Emperor's Private Audience Chamber.

It was in the gilded opulence of that scarlet-walled ante-chamber that Luke stood in uneasy silence now, waiting to see his Master, the command to attend already waiting when he had arrived on one of the small, inset landing platforms in the North Tower, successfully avoiding the pointless pomp and ceremony of an official return.

Uneasy because he'd been summoned to the Private Audience Chamber- the cavernous room where he had fought his father years earlier. It wasn't the first time he'd returned here of course; he'd been here many times at the summons of the Emperor, but it never failed to send some burst of emotion through him. Regret, frustration, confusion- he didn't know; didn't care to look too closely. He only knew it was here where he fell - truly fell. Where he lost his way so completely. He had fallen far earlier in many ways, he knew. He was already in that cage; had built the bars which held him. But the day that he'd fought his father- that was the day those bars fell away... and he stayed.

Did he want to be here? No. did he trust Palpatine? Absolutely not. Could he leave? Never.

Because Palpatine had invested a great deal of effort in ensuring there was simply nowhere left to go. Wherever he went Palpatine would hunt him down. On his own, trying to cover his tracks, Luke knew he would never outrun or elude his Master- Palpatine simply knew him too well; knew his sense, his presence in the force, and Luke knew his connection was such that he would be detectable even if he tried to hide it.

If he tried to return to the Alliance, even ignoring the fact that he was under the death penalty there as an Imperial spy - not an unwilling captive or even a defector, thanks to his Master's maneuvering, but an actual double agent - Palpatine would throw the whole fleet at it; rip it to pieces just to get him back.

Wherever he went and however he tried to hide, Palpatine would find him and bring him back, whatever the cost- he had made that absolutely clear.

Though he would never destroy his precious 'Jedi', he had made that clear too; he would simply break him to pieces and rebuild him one more time. One more grating, grinding trial; a test of torture and thresholds executed with pitiless, surgical precision or self-indulgent gratification depending on his Master's mood from moment to moment, and damned if Luke didn't even know which was worst anymore, because they too had become a part of his life, the incensed, raging outbursts and the cool, cruel manipulations.

Because somewhere along the way he had become just one more of the Emperor's possessions. Whether Palpatine wanted the snarl of complications and aggravation that his precious new advocate purposely embodied was immaterial; what mattered was that Palpatine owned him- which meant that nobody else did; that he would never have this power turned against him.

In an effort to control Skywalker, Palpatine gave his wolf an ever longer leash; the illusion of freedom when they both knew it was nothing of the sort. Still, they played the game, Luke remaining at first because he quite simply had no-where else to go, forcibly isolated, all other options stripped away. Then, damn himself for his own stupid weakness, then held by obligations and associations, aqcuaintances and allies formed even here. Because Palpatine had made it very clear what would happen to them should Luke steer too far from the accepted path. Besides; he had become used to the situation. It had become, Force help him, the norm.

So he walked the knife-edge between opportunistic dissent and resenting obedience, taking the opportunities wherever they were available, living his life in the gaps between his Master's overbearing, incontestable presence as his father had said he would learn to do.

And just as Luke had stated to his father three years earlier, it was no life at all.

Still, in some private corner of is mind he felt he deserved no better... and his Master knew this and used it and treated him accordingly.

And slowly, the lines of battle and tolerance had been drawn on both sides, the contentious, often explosive disagreements which had marked his early interactions with his Master mellowing now and settling out into a subtler game as experience taught him the futility of open conflict.

The basic rules of the game hadn't changed; Luke still found a large proportion of his Master's conduct and commands offensive and Palpatine still steamrollered over his unease as if it were simply not there, dragging Luke along by force of will. But slowly the dissents came smaller and fewer and Palpatine's resultant retribution less violent, though it irked Luke to think that the two were linked.

He had long ago stopped trying to look at his motives; the reason was always too uncomfortable to consider, because either he had grown tired of the constant battle and now gave ground more often simply out of defeated indifference, or he had simply grown used to his role here, jaded cynicism rendering what had once seemed outrageous demands on his Master's part insignificant. What discomfort Luke still held he clung to, all the more so because it had become so easily ignorable, just one more drop in a sea of misgivings, leaving the distasteful suspicion that he had not so much surrendered to his role here as he had perhaps grown into it.

But there had been at least some concessions on his Master's part, because Luke's time away from the Palace and the Emperor's manipulations had increased steadily, and he knew that wasn't by his Master's choice. And occasionally Palpatine did now defer on a point of contention.

Victories were small here - one took what one could... and planned.

.

The tall, ornately-carved doors of the Audience Chamber whispered open and Veers - one of his father's Generals - walked out, turning as he saw Luke and pausing momentarily to click his heels together and incline his head deeply in a smart, military bow. Luke only watched him, expressionless, filing the fact that he was here at all away for later consideration.

Chancellor Amedda stepped out and inclined his head just slightly in invitation as Luke turned away from the departing General. He took one last clean, clear breath of air and put the thoughts and doubts he connected with this haunted place carefully away behind mental shields - they were his alone and not for his Master's scrutiny.

Then he stepped forward.

.

Palpatine's feral Jedi walked calmly the length of the long room, taking the steps at its midway point without looking either left or right, keeping his eyes on his Master. But he knew, Palpatine could tell - he knew already that something was wrong. Perhaps because the room was empty save for Amedda, and when he was to be chastised, it was always behind closed doors. There was no public discord between the Emperor and his Jedi.

When he reached the throne, Luke stepped smoothly down onto one knee, the slightest hint of uneasy resentment colouring his sense. He'd never grown used to this as his father had- chose never to do so.

"The Neimoidian insurgency has been dealt with Master. The plot was unsuccessful and all of the military factories remain intact. Marshal law has been imposed on the Northern Continent only, but I foresee few problems. It will be relaxed within the month with only curfews and weapons restrictions remaining."

Palpatine remained silent as his Jedi spoke, studying him without really listening to his words - there was no need; he would have done as ordered or he would not yet have returned. And what he had not done, Palpatine already knew.

So he watched, admiring again his Wolf. Admiring those cold blue eyes, like ice in twilight. His wild hair was raked loosely back from his remarkably youthful face, long enough to twist into disarray, dark against pale skin. Scarred now, as he hadn't been when he'd first arrived here- mentally as well as physically. But then it suited him, gave him a dark edge to temper that naive countenance; depth and interest where before he had been unpolished and artless.

When he finished speaking, he made to stand, and Palpatine brought his mind to the moment.

"I have not given you permission to rise, Jedi." he said, the slightest hint of cold threat in his voice.

The boy froze - then settled dutifully back into position, his jaw tightening just slightly.

"You met with your father." Palpatine prompted curtly.

"My father met with me." The boy corrected, not lifting his head.

"For what reason?"

"He believes there is a spy working onboard the Peerless." This wasn't the time to be playing games, but Luke couldn't resist.

"Indeed?" Palpatine said blandly. But Luke noted from the corner of his vision that his Master placed his gaunt, pale hand before his mouth in a considered gesture, as he often did when lying, "And who would that be?"

Luke didn't hesitate, "His name is Drea Vose. He's an engineer."

Palpatine settled back slightly, his hand lowering at the reprieve. "Is Lord Vader correct?"

"Forgive me- he was an engineer." Luke corrected smoothly, setting a mental reminder to communicate the name to his father as soon as possible - for his own protection rather than Vader's.

"Then the matter is dealt with?"

"Yes, Master."

"And you are sure he was working alone?"

Oh, the temptation was just too great; "One must always remain vigilant, Master."

Palpatine narrowed his eyes at that, then settled again just slightly. "What of the ringleaders on Neimoidia?"

His Jedi tensed just slightly at the change in topic, the action visible in the changing folds of his cloak. He had changed before meeting with Palpatine in an effort to diffuse what he knew would be a problematic meeting, wearing more traditional black robes rather than his customary military-cut suit, in a subtle expression of deference. It was discreet and understated, but he knew that the Emperor would not fail to have noticed. "The Rebels were already gone, Master. I passed their identities..."

"The Neimoidians." Palpatine cut in. The boy did not raise his head though he knew he'd been found out - then again, he knew he would be; there were few secrets here and this was not exactly concealable. All he didn't know was the extent of his punishment.

"They were dismissed from office. New leaders of a more..."

"I gave the command to kill the ringleaders."

"They were not the ringleaders, Master. They were merely..."

"I did not ask for your opinion. Merely your obedience."

"You ordered that the ringleaders..."

"Don't argue semantics with me. You chose to interpret my command as it suited you- you knew exactly what I had ordered."

"Yes Master." the boy grated.

The Emperor sat in silence, staring at the kneeling form for a long time, considering.

"Perhaps you should stay a while and consider your actions, Jedi." Palpatine said at last in dry tones, and the boy shifted uneasily at the implied insult in that designation, though he didn't look up.

Palpatine turned to Amedda, "Chancellor- the disruption on Bimmisari?"

Luke remained in genuflection, one knee on the hard marble floor, one arm resting on the bent knee which was not, eyes fixed on the point at which the dais raised in carved relief from the main floor. So long that his muscles trembled, his spine cramped and his ribs ached. But he did not move- wouldn't give Palpatine the satisfaction of seeing him do so.

Time trickled slowly by, the sun pushing shadows across the vast, ostentatious room as he stared resolutely at the floor before him, beginning to call on the Force to maintain the awkward position. By early afternoon, Palpatine had found four opportunities to scold Luke for distracting him when Luke had attempted to resettle his weight, moving even slightly. Now the Emperor stood a good distance away at the huge arched windows which stretched to the vaulted and fluted extravagance of the gilded ceiling, gazing silently out into the distant metropolis, his next audience not yet admitted.

No longer the subject of his Master's attention, Luke leaned back just slightly onto his haunches in an attempt to still trembling muscles, and Palpatine turned on him.

"Are you incapable of so simple-an act?" he bit out venomously, "You've knelt so often that I would expect it to be second nature by now. It's where you belong, lest you forget."

Luke turned slowly, even this slight movement lighting fireworks down the tense muscles of his spine.

"Isn't it?" Palpatine provoked, meeting his feral Jedi's eye.

Luke held that gaze for long seconds, knowing he could so easily push this over into a genuine fight... "Yes, Master." He allowed at last, though they both knew it cost him.

Palpatine only smiled, voice amused and mocking now, "You bitter little creature. I made you everything that you are- you were nothing without me."

"I'm nothing anyway Master- isn't that what you always say?" There was the barest hint of defiance in his voice- but it was enough to ignite Palpatine's anger again.

"Don't dare think to challenge me!" his voice dropped from wild yell to threatening growl as he stalked forward, lips pulled back over spoiled teeth, hands held loosely before him, fingers stretched out as he disappeared behind Luke's view, the threat implicit in his action.

Luke remained still, reaching out with his senses, searching for the familiar sharp mental buzz of Force lightening being summoned into razor-sharp focus, his stance tightening in unwilling response.

Instead a strong hand grabbed at his hair, nails scraping his scalp, yanking his head back, "You are nothing! An irrelevant amusement for a powerful man. Everything that I grant you I can take away- position, power, freedom... life."

Head held tightly back, the boy met his gaze without struggling, no real fear in his eyes, even in the face of this. But Palpatine knew how to slice through that indifference. "And everyone around you." The Sith growled pointedly, leaning close. "Do you understand?"

Skywalker held his gaze for long moments before he broke at that, turning his eyes down though they were still as defiant as ever.

"Yes Master." he said at last, another hard capitulation.

Palpatine released him, turning away, voice scathing. "You're weak. How many times have I told you that if you allow yourself a vulnerability, people will use it against you?"

Luke said nothing, face a mask, boiling with frustration inside.

"Do I have a weakness?" Palpatine goaded, and Luke almost said it - almost turned and said it; 'Yes-me.'

He wanted to do it- just to see what his Master would do. Because they both knew it was true. Instead, aware of how close to the edge he was skating, he maintained his silence.

"Clearly it would do you well to stay a while yet and consider what I have just said." Palpatine ordered as he turned away, not yet feeling he had made his point...

.

And the day wore on, Palpatine remaining in his Private Audience Chamber attending to matters of State, his errant Jedi remaining on one knee before the throne, back straight, eyes set on the middle distance, calling the Force to him to maintain the unnatural, awkward position, his mind eventually wandering, no matter how unwillingly, back to Palpatine's words.

He was nothing. His Master hurled this fact at him over and over with such absolute certainty. Had done so since Luke had first been imprisoned in the cell beneath the palace- when he'd still naïvely believed that he had some kind of choice...that he could change anything at all. That Palpatine's will wasn't absolute. Every time he wavered, every time he faltered, every time he hesitated; who was he to question? He was nothing.

He was nothing. Not even himself; even this his Master claimed; his name, his will... his soul, in due course, just like his father. He existed only to serve, to fulfil Palpatine's expectations, despite his continued rebukes and punishments.

This was his life now, to stand by his Master, prey to his commands and coercions and volatile, mercurial temper. Perhaps that would never stop;

He sighed against the trembling muscles of his aching ribs, resigned to the realisation. It didn't matter- very little did anymore.

.

By mid-afternoon he was well past discomfort, his whole body beginning to tremble, spasms causing short, jerky movements as the bunched muscles of his stomach, back and legs tensed to cramping every few moments in dire complaint, his breath coming harder now, diaphragm compressed against the rigid tension required to maintain the position. But he remained silent, remained focused.

Palpatine allowed three private audiences to prolong the day, each representative walking forward and coming to an uneasy stop beside the silent, kneeling man, each invited to rise when they had knelt, none daring to make comment on the Emperor's Jedi, Palpatine conducting the audience as if the boy was not there at all, watching the representatives trying without success to hide their furtive, nervous sideways glances.

And all the time, his Jedi stared resolutely ahead.

Finally his Aides were dismissed and the Emperor stood for a short time staring out over the city as the sun dipped below the line of distant buildings, before walking slowly back to his throne to sit, taking his time to settle before, at length, bringing his eyes back to his Jedi. He watched him in silence for a short while. Watched the headstrong determination in those hooded eyes which would not meet his, watched his muscles trembling with fatigue, watched his chest rise in short, sharp breaths.

"You are so stubborn." he observed at last, amused and exasperated in the same breath. "How can you be this obstinate over so small-a thing?"

The boy remained looking steadfastly ahead, jaw clamped tight, head tilted forward slightly at the continued effort.

"Why did you not simply kill them?" Because he knew, Palpatine reflected; he knew there'd be a price for his disobedience; there always was. It never stopped him.

"It was unnecessary." the boy said at last, between clenched teeth. "At the very least it would have fed the Rebellion's cause with a new surge of outraged idealists ready to fight. At worst, it would have caused riots which would have spread civil disorder across the continent and probably the planet; it would have taken months to fully subdue and reinstate order, and countless troops would have had to be committed to the action. As it is the leaders are gone now and there is nothing to react against. The situation will dissipate within weeks."

"Have I taught you nothing, Jedi?" Palpatine dismissed easily, bringing the boys eyes momentarily up to his own.

He still revelled in calling him that, knowing how it stung; his fallen Jedi, his feral Jedi his dark Jedi... his Jedi. His. He had given the boy no other name, though he had taken his true name away long ago. Now this was all that was left; his Jedi, his Wolf, Commander of his fleet. But nothing more. Let them whisper and guess. The boy would never tell the truth; he did not care for his own past and was no longer bothered what name people gave him.

He knew what he was, no matter how much he disliked it.

Palpatine frowned at this; had it been mercy which had driven him to disobey, or logic, as he claimed? He had killed many times at his Master's command - and always with such savage grace, like setting a hunting-bird free - so why had he held back this time? He still occasionally had the power to surprise his Master, even three years after his arrival... which was why he remained of interest- of value.

"Never hesitate." Palpatine admonished, leaning forward indulgently. "It is your greatest weakness- conquer it or your enemies will conquer you with it. Anyone who can get the better of you will do so- it is basic nature, pack mentality. Someone will always seek to challenge you. If you react swiftly and violently to make examples, people will remember and you will not be forced to repeat the same lessons again and again."

"Yes Master." The boy said levelly without meeting Palpatine's eye.

"Conquer your flaws, my friend. Or I will do it for you."

The boy brought his head up at that, knowing...

Palpatine only shrugged elaborately, "The Neimoidian sympathisers you left free were rounded up and killed this morning on my order. If there is rioting in the streets, then perhaps next time I shall not make you kneel quite so long."

He rose, satisfied that he had proved his point; disobeying was not only painful but pointless, the futility of even this small dispute underlined.

Walking slowly past his Jedi, cane in hand, Palpatine paused without looking down to pat the kneeling boy on the shoulder. "Don't make me remind you again. Today I found it amusing, given what is about to transpire. Next time I will not be so indulgent."

He walked from the room and the silent, kneeling man, his cane tak-takking on the cold marble floor.

When the doors closed, Luke collapsed down, burning, biting cramps searing at this final release, agonising as blood returned to numb muscles.

He sat alone for a long time on the Audience-Chamber floor ...for the simple reason that he was unable to stand.