Into the Storm

Chapter 8

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CHAPTER EIGHT

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It was amazing how quickly routines were established. By nightfall Luke was sitting patiently, waiting for Palpatine to arrive. Waiting for the redhead to come in and announce it.

Like clockwork the doors cycled through their staged lock release, Luke counting how many bolts there were for the first time. She walked in with a face like thunder, and he smiled into those cold eyes. "Hey, Red."

"The..." She floundered, momentarily taken off-guard, but quickly found her stride again. "The Emperor commands your presence."

"Pretty much figured that," Luke said, setting forward, unsure why he was doing this but enjoying setting her off-balance all the same, his mood still light from seeing Han.

"And don't call me Red," she clipped, dropping into pace as he passed her, two Royal Guard falling in behind them.

"How about Rusty?" he teased quietly as they walked. "I gotta call you something and you won't tell me your name, so take your pick."

"I'm Commander Jade," she said haughtily, eyes straight ahead.

Luke waited until he was almost at the far door to preclude any comeback from her. "Nah... I think I like Red better."

Then he was through and she dropped back, remaining near the door, and Luke cautioned himself to concentrate; this was no longer a game.

Palpatine's eyes were dangerously narrowed as Luke entered the room and turned to him, his stare cold and ominous. Directed not at Luke but at Jade, who bowed deeply, some undercurrent of apprehension in her sense now.

Palpatine remained staring at the woman as she straightened, her eyes to the floor so that Luke, aware that he had caused this and feeling suddenly protective even of her, spoke out.

"Excellency," he acknowledged as he'd heard others do, bringing the Emperor's baleful yellow eyes to him.

The Sith Emperor stared, and for the first time, Luke recognized his individual accent in the Force, as if he had neglected in that instant to hide it completely. It roiled in fury at the woman, some sense of possessive ownership being infringed. Then it was gone, hidden away completely as he too brought his attention to the moment.

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Palpatine turned and walked slowly to his chair, taking the time to regain equilibrium before sitting and looking to the boy.

"Sit," he commanded simply. And the boy did--as easily as that. Perhaps it would be no struggle after all, to gain his obedience.

"You spoke with your companion today?" Palpatine said.

"Yes, " the boy replied. Then, because he was uncertain what else to say, "Thank you."

Palpatine kept his eyes steady on the Jedi, but was pleased.

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"I would...like to see the others, if I may?" Luke was wary, unsure if Palpatine would want something in return.

"Others?"

"Leia and Chewie."

"They are gone, Jedi." There was a self-congratulatory note mixed in with the Emperor's politely feigned confusion.

"Gone?" Luke asked, alarm giving his voice volume.

"Of course--that was the agreement. That you would stay for twelve weeks if they were let free. They set out to Neimoidia before dawn this morning and chose to leave the transport at Cat Dato Spaceport. They were not followed, as we agreed, so I have no information as to where they are now. But I'm sure your little Princess is already..."

"This morning!" It was a stupid thing to say in the face of this torrent of information, but Luke was genuinely surprised that they were gone--that he hadn't realized that they had been taken.

He reached out now with the Force, his urgency slicing so easily through the murky susurration which clouded about him, but was unable to find any trace of Leia. A memory hit him in that instant; of waking in the early hours of the morning, sure that someone had called out his name. Not in fear, just...realization. It must have been Leia, she must have recognized they were being separated and thought of him in that moment.

Luke chided himself for not recognizing it was her at the time or realizing they were gone, angry at his own lack of vigilance, determined that it wouldn't happen again. He'd allowed this static fog of Darkness to hold his own abilities in check, permitted it free reign when he should have been aware.

Not again--that lesson was learnt.

Palpatine's words broke into this rush of thoughts.

"We had an agreement, Jedi. I have fulfilled my part of the bargain willingly, without delay and to the letter. I expect no less from you."

And suddenly Luke realized what Palpatine had done--that he had pushed the deal through, bringing it into immediate existence...effectively tying Luke in before he'd really had time to consider its implications.

Now he was committed--he had given his word.

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Palpatine watched the rush of anticipated thoughts and realizations cross the boy's face; watched him search for some way out and recognize that there was none. Before the boy's reactions had time to spill over into anger he spoke out, gravelly voice neutral and calm. "Eat."

This brought the boy's eyes up to his own and again, Palpatine watched the run of considerations play across his face as he took everything into account--the agreement to stay without contention, his own hunger, the fact that he was trapped here by his own hand now...

Whether to honor the agreement at all...

All these considerations shifted through his mind, the moment stretching...

Finally Skywalker reached out, took a single small flatbread from the warm serving dish and put it on his plate.

Palpatine allowed his own expression to change not a whit. Instead, he nodded to the servers, who filled the goblets with wine, bowed and left, the Royal Guards who had flanked Luke doing the same. He let the silence hang for a long time, wondering if his Jedi would feel compelled to speak. Skywalker remained silent though, staring steadfastly at the table ahead of him, eyes and thoughts distant.

The stillness stretched into minutes, in which neither moved.

Finally, Palpatine spoke out. "Placing food on your plate does not constitute eating, Jedi."

The boy looked up as if startled from private thoughts. He looked back down at his plate for several seconds...then broke off a corner of the flatbread and ate it, neither reluctant nor resigned.

Palpatine smiled, settling; that fight was broken now. Whether his Jedi ate further tonight was irrelevant and they both knew it. There was a war to be fought, a battle at a time.

And Palpatine had scored a resounding victory within minutes of meeting, today.

"It's perhaps better that they are gone," he offered at last, keeping any trace of triumph from his voice. "They were a leash about your neck, tying you down, holding you back. Your pretty little Princess was using you. Using you to fight battles she could not."

"You don't know anything about her," the boy said, offended.

"On the contrary, I know her very well. Long before she was forced to fall back on her blindly devoted Rebel band to protect her, she was a Senator here on ImperialCenter. She was aggressively self-serving even then. Know your enemies, Jedi," he lectured.

"And your friends?"

Palpatine only smiled, dismissive. "You have no friends, Jedi. It is time you learned that. Only those who would use you, in some way or another. Only your peers can be trusted--only they do not need your abilities."

"Leia needed nothing from me."

"Of course she did," he held easily. "Her petty little Rebellion was nothing before you arrived. What little it was would have been wiped out at Yavin. They were less threat to my Empire than a flea on a bantha. But give them a Jedi--someone who could pose a real threat, someone whom the disaffected of the whole galaxy could rally around--and they became a force to be reckoned with. That is why she held you there."

"I stayed by choice."

"Yes, of course you did," Palpatine smiled indulgently. "The question is, why? I'm sure she went out of her way to encourage you to do so. Princesses do not generally consort with common pilots, my friend. Or did you not notice that? How many other pilots did she know by name? She needed you and she knew it. She needed control of you, just as Kenobi did."

"She didn't even know about my abilities."

"Are you sure? You traveled with Master Kenobi, you wore a lightsaber. I'm sure you must have provided all kinds of subtle signs. What conclusions was she supposed to draw? Give her some credit, Jedi. Enough to see what you were...what you could be worth to her."

"You're wrong." The boy's voice dropped low with anger at the accusation.

"It is the truth," Palpatine said in a tone that broached no argument. "All beings seek only to control you, the power that you hold. Your Jedi teachers, your precious Rebellion... and your little Princess whom you so wanted to save." Palpatine bent his head to one side, his manner gentle but his eyes hard. "Only they clothe their control in empty compassion and feigned friendship and outright lies."

Skywalker shook his head, but couldn't find his voice.

"I tell you this, Jedi, and it is a truth; your trusted allies, your precious Princess...they will all turn on you. She will hold a gun to your head and long to pull the trigger."

"No."

"She will plot your destruction with every bit as much mercenary zeal as she now plots mine. You were nothing to her save an opportunity to be used, fodder to her cause. The moment she realizes that she no longer controls her tame Jedi, she will want to destroy it."

"You're lying!"

"And your teacher," Palpatine spat the last with mocking derision, "didn't he leave you to rot in the desert until he realized I would find you, then drag you into his conspiracies with lies and half-truths, only ever enough information to control and manipulate?"

"And you?" the boy challenged.

The Emperor sat back; paused a moment to give his Jedi mental and physical space, that it could better separate Palpatine from his accusations of betrayal by others. "I offer you understanding. As I understand your father. You and he are not so very different."

The boy balked at this, denial shaping his features.

Palpatine pushed on regardless, his grating voice absolute and broaching no argument, beginning to bind Skywalker to him. "Yes; you are the same line. I understand that as no one else can. No one. What it requires of you every moment to contain the power you have finally begun to unleash. What it has already cost you...the demands you know will come."

"We are nothing alike," Skywalker hissed passionately. "Nothing!"

"Then why are you alive, Jedi? Why are you not dead, like so many before you? Why would I bother to be here now, speaking these words? If you were any other Jedi I assure you I would have killed you already... But I see what you willfully refuse to acknowledge. I see what you are."

He let this moment hang for long seconds, eyes locking his Jedi's to hold him in uneasy anticipation before he leaned forward...

"Darkness recognizes its own."

He saw the boy recoil at this, eyes widening, and knew he had scored a blow.

"I am not my father," the boy managed at last, voice almost lost in the emotion.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm very sure," Skywalker's words cut across the Emperor's, his voice steel, but Palpatine sensed him waver in the Force, the flicker of doubt that could not be so easily hidden.

So he remained still in mock consideration for a long time to give the boy time to think on his reply, frowning as he stared at Skywalker, who held his searching gaze without flinching...visibly.

"Do you truly hate him?" Palpatine asked at last. "Or do you hate what you know he will make you become?"

"He hasn't made me become anything."

"But the realization of what you are..."

"I'm the sum of my own life. Vader doesn't feature in that."

"Oh, but he does. Whether by his presence or his absence."

"Not nearly as much as you believe," Skywalker maintained.

"But far more than you think." Again Palpatine paused. "Do you believe in destiny, Jedi?"

"No," the boy said firmly.

"And yet you acknowledge precognition--you are yourself capable of this."

"The future is undecided. It changes constantly according to the actions of the present. I see that."

"Some things are fluid," Palpatine allowed. "But some are locked in. Inescapable."

"Nothing is inevitable."

"Is that what you believe...or what you hope?"

"It's what I was taught."

"And of course, you believe everything that you were taught," Palpatine mocked derisively. "Have you learned nothing here?"

"I have learned a great deal," the boy said pointedly.

Palpatine only smiled, shaking his head in amusement. "You are so adamant. I can teach you more than Kenobi ever could have. He was a fool and he was willfully blind. And you were naïve to listen to him."

Skywalker's expression was guarded, but Palpatine could sense his affront, so he pushed the provocation.

"You have heard one person's point of view and now hold it as canon. Yet he was an old man who had sat and rotted alone in the desert for two decades, completely removed from the affairs of his kind. The Jedi were killed in their hundreds and he did nothing to help them--children and younglings, padawans and Masters. Never once did he return to aide in the fight. Are you sure he spoke for the Jedi at all? You accept his word as absolute but you can never truly know. At best, your teaching is flawed in its narrowness...at worst, everything he taught you was nothing more than the petty ranting of a senile fool."

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Luke shook his head, despite everything still incensed at the desecration Palpatine rained down on Kenobi. "He stayed to help me, to protect me."

The Sith lifted his eyebrows. "And yet when it finally mattered, he left you alone."

"Not alone. Master Y..." Luke stopped-- But it was far too late.

Palpatine rose in surprise. "Master Yoda?"

Luke's heart skipped and his stomach knotted at this involuntary betrayal, a momentary slip, a lesson hard learned.

"Master Yoda," the Sith repeated more slowly, staring at Luke as if everything was finally falling into place. "There is your teacher when Kenobi was gone. That is why your father couldn't sway you."

The Emperor stepped forward to walk alongside the long table as he spoke. Luke stared straight ahead, appalled at his error. But he made himself think; acknowledge the error and examine the damage. The Emperor had a name but not a place. He buried that knowledge deep, locked it away.

Still, he was furious at his own lapse in concentration, at how easily he'd allowed himself to be goaded into giving Palpatine so much.

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Stopping beside the mortified youth, Palpatine reached out to take Luke's chin in his hand and lift his resisting head, eyes to the boy's as he leaned in, completely focused, expression deadly.

"Where is he?" His voice was low, dripping with Dark intent.

Skywalker only shook his head, tried to turn away--but Palpatine held him, nails to flesh.

"Where?" Palpatine repeated.

The boy only held his gaze in wary silence, wall after wall of mental defenses in place.

"You cannot protect him. You have already failed him once, you will do so again. It is..."

He paused, and Skywalker too sensed it--

The momentary shift in the Force tilted everything, as if gravity had skewed, as if the universe itself shifted incrementally on its axis, reality resettling about it as the Sith's eyes glazed...

Palpatine refocused on the boy, euphoric, almost ecstatic, voice reduced to an elated whisper. "One day, you will tell me...voluntarily. You will seek me out in your eagerness to betray him. Do you see it?"

The muscles about the boy's eyes tightened in horrified realization, much as he tried to hide it... But it was enough.

Enough for Palpatine to know that Skywalker too recognized the momentary truth afforded by the Force--and its implications.

Seeing this emotion flicker across his Jedi's face Palpatine smiled, gratified voice very sure. Gentle though, as the boy's sudden comprehension was played out in the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the desperate denial in his eyes as he struggled against shifting perceptions.

He straightened, releasing his hold to rest one hand to Skywalker's shoulder in empty consolation, pushing forward on the tide of this unexpected revelation, nails pressing into skin through the fine silk of the boy's dark shirt.

"Was he reluctant to teach you, my friend? Did he tell you why? Did he tell you that he had foreseen your future, as I have. Your destiny is at my side, not his. It is written in every fiber of your being, it is in the blood which gives you life--inevitable, inescapable."

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Luke remained silent, eyes unfocused, lost in the realization of what was to come--would he betray Yoda? It had seemed so real; a moment of irrefutable clarity summoned up and twisted through with the Force. No vision as such, no elucidation, just that one fact, absolutely unassailable, driven home like a blow to the gut.

And still Palpatine pushed, so many questions, never pausing for an answer, voicing Luke's deepest, darkest fears. Cool, bone-thin fingers brushed his cheek in mock compassion as the Sith slowly drew his hand away. In that moment, faltering in a sea of doubt, Luke barely noticed.

The Emperor smiled lopsidedly, pale lips pulled back over yellowed teeth, that moment of intense clarity giving him confidence as it stripped it from Luke's own resolve. "Did he forbid you to go to Vader? Try to keep you by his side, where he could control you and contain, subdue you and restrain? Never to reach your full power, because that would be greater than his, and he would never allow that."

He reached out to take Luke's chin in his hand again, whispering as he turned Luke's head toward him. "How easily you gave him control, Jedi. How foolish you must feel now, to have offered your allegiance so completely to one who sought only to control you through lies and limitations."

Confusion and doubt ripped at Luke's mind as conflicting emotions raged, fuelled by that flash of knowledge in the Force, that future echo. Adrenaline pushed him to act, to shout, to defend those accused--but deeper fears whispered betrayal and suspicion, chaos paralyzing his muscles.

"They didn't seek control," he finally whispered, as much to himself as to Palpatine. "They didn't..."

The Emperor only nodded, quietly but with chilling surety. "You know that they did. No matter what words pass your lips, my friend, I know what is in your heart."

As he spoke, the Sith walked slowly behind Luke's seat, pale hands trailing over the fine silk on his shoulders. Luke wrenched away in denial of the empty sophistries offered by the Emperor, who only smiled in reply.

"I can understand your discomfort, child. It is a hard thing, to admit that one was deceived, one's loyalty misplaced. And yet so easily correctable...if one has the strength."

"There's nothing to correct," Luke held, unable to stop himself from replying. He tried so hard to hold silent, to remain detached from Palpatine's accusations, but had been drawn in again despite his best efforts. He could see it happening, yet was completely unable to stop himself.

"You have been given a rare gift, child, that of clarity. It is given to so few; do not waste it."

Luke remained silent, still trying to process that moment of cruel veracity within the Force, the absolute certainty that he would one day volunteer Master Yoda's hiding place to the loathsome, manipulative Sith who stood behind him now. Truly volunteer, of his own volition--not under duress or coercion. He knew this now--knew it. Master Yoda had maintained that the future remained in flux, difficult to resolve except by proximity, yet that burst of Force-induced realization seemed chillingly undeniable.

A fixed event, just as Palpatine had claimed. Were there others? Was his fate just as inevitable?

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Seeing that doubt play across is Jedi's face Palpatine pushed on as he walked around the boy's chair, giving no time for deliberation, hand brushing against the boy's where it rested on the table, nails dragging delicately across his skin, subtly breaking his train of thought. "How wonderful to see one's own future, if only for a fraction of a second. It has clarified for you in one instant what I could have wasted a thousand words trying to explain."

"I will not betray him."

"You know that's not true; you know you will betray him. You heard the truth, whispered in the Force. Yes...retribution. How good it will feel, to repay those who used you so callously."

Palpatine slowed to a stop, gazing into the raging fire, his voice quiet and sure. "It is inevitable; you have stayed destiny's hand long enough, child. Now it wants payment for the power it has given you--the power it has given your bloodline. And the price is invariably the same. Your father's fate is your own, it always was. Destiny, my friend, will not be cheated."

"I don't...believe..."

Oh, but how uncertain that voice was now. How precarious that previously unshakable faith.

The vision, that wonderful instant of absolute clarity, had gifted Palpatine with an incredibly persuasive coercion. Both for the boy and for himself. He had never doubted, of course; had always believed he could control Skywalker-- should control him--but despite his claims, this was the first confirmation that he would, sounding in a clear note which had reverberated through the Force, perception beyond sight, conviction beyond doubt.

And everything that it gave to Palpatine, it took from the boy.

Skywalker shook his head slowly, torn by uncertainties. He opened his mouth to speak but could drag nothing from the turmoil of confusion which screamed within. "I..."

So close, so close to this intoxicating frenzy of raging emotions, Palpatine could only whisper, his voice hoarse. "There are no words left, my friend. Only the truth...and the Darkness."

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Waiting patiently for her master in the wide hallway outside Skywalker's quarters, Mara Jade bowed low as he emerged. He passed her without a sideways glance, still immersed in his triumph and the boy's loss of faith--not in his allies, but in something far more important; himself.

As she fell into silent pace a step beside him, he slowed, sensing...something. Some crosscurrent of emotion...

She was in some way affected by this, he could sense that much from her. By the task she had been given. But then she was always frustrated when she had to remain in the Palace; he had trained her to be a creature of action, to travel throughout his Empire and carry out his bidding, able to hear and communicate with him through the Force, his eyes, his ears, his will...

He frowned slightly; was that it? Was it within her ability to sense Skywalker within the Force? He had taught her to hear his voice, but she had never heard Lord Vader--though she had never tried, the two remaining wary adversaries, just as Palpatine liked it. But could she now hear the Jedi? And if she did...why?

--Do you hear him, my servant? --

She frowned at her Master. "Hear him?"

--The Jedi; as you hear me, now?--

She looked at her master for long seconds... "No master. I hear nothing."

Wary, he looked into her soul, searching for a lie. But at this proximity all he could sense was his Jedi, that burst of raw power hypnotic even in the misery of despair, burning all lesser lights away so that Jade was instantly forgotten.

It was irrelevant anyway; she would play her part obediently. She always had.

Palpatine walked on and Jade resumed pace beside him, her vague, dim sense in the Force only making him desire the power that Skywalker embodied all the more. It should be he who walked obediently one step behind his Master now, not Jade. Not even Vader, not anymore. The boy's resistance only fired Palpatine's desire to defeat, to subdue--to own.

Yes, the boy was far better trained than he had anticipated, but certainly not yet beyond reach; the Force had assured him of that.

Though that did not mean that Palpatine had an easy task ahead. Skywalker would somehow come to terms with the unexpected vision, would likely try to rationalize it away somehow. He was nothing if not obstinate. Even if he couldn't, even if he knew it to be the truth, he would still fight. That too was in his blood. He would resist because he believed he was right, and he still foolishly believed that such irrelevancies bought him some kind of immunity from the reach of Darkness. He would resist because he believed it was necessary--because Kenobi and Master Yoda would have drilled into him the importance of even the smallest slip. He would resist because of his friends, believing their pious, insignificant opinions to be his own. He would resist simply because he knew this was what Palpatine wanted, and he resented being caged here, being manipulated by him.

The challenge would be to turn him despite these beliefs; more than that, to turn them against him. To engineer a situation in which, aware that he was walking into the Darkness, the Jedi would keep walking.

He could not, in that final instant, be pushed to Darkness; he had to receive it willingly, to open his mind and his soul in acceptance.

But he could be pushed to that very brink. Harried and provoked and manipulated to that critical, pivotal moment...when he would take the Darkness and use it as his own.

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Luke sat locked again in the still gloom of his unlit room, his feet pulled up on the edge of the chair, hand to his head against the incessant pressure there, trying to reason through the vision which had turned his perceptions upside down. Not even that; no vision as such, just knowledge, bone-deep and undeniable, that he would betray Master Yoda. A truth, as absolute as death.

He gazed out across the bright, distant lights of the city, their glow casting velvet shadows about the cavernous bedroom, its overwhelming scale reminding him how desperately alone he was here.

How could he move forward now? How could he hold against this? Because he had to find a way. He wouldn't let it swallow him up in its self-fulfilling portent.

If he could just...

He paused, aware of a disturbance which rolled through the Darkness about him, trying to lock it down...

He knew before he heard the voice in the room outside, low and bass, passing out orders as if it were some divine right.

Not now... Luke thought. For all the difference it made; even if Vader had heard him, it wouldn't have slowed his footsteps. He knew he should stand, but instead he simply drew his legs up tighter, wrapping his arms about them in an uncommonly childlike gesture.

The lights in the room came on--even that was beyond his control, here--and the bolts cycled open in heavy, leaden tones.

Vader entered alone, waiting for the door to grate closed with its weighty grind.

Silence drew out, Luke not turning, though he was unable to ignore the heavy, rasping breaths of his fathe... of Vader's mask.

"Your companions are free," Vader said at last.

Luke remained still, gazing out into the night, torn by frustrations, by his own inability to act. He wanted to shout, to scream at this...thing to leave him alone, to go and never return. Yet when he finally spoke, all he could do was to ask quietly, without turning around, "What do you want from me? I have no idea why you come here."

"Neither do I," Vader admitted without rancor, voice eerily lost in that moment.

"Then go. Just...leave. Leave me alone." Why could he not do that? Why did he keep coming back to remind Luke of the weakness he too carried.

"You are already alone, by your own choice," Vader rumbled.

Luke whirled at that. "My choice? Choice! My choice is to walk out of here and never look back. My choice is for you to..." He broke off, rubbing at his aching head, tired to the grave...what was the point?

"There are still choices," Vader reminded him.

"I'll rot before I'll help you." Luke's voice was tired and hollow, but his commitment shone through.

"Then he's won. You'll serve him before the year is out."

"Because you did?"

"Because this is what he does. He defeated the Senate and the massed ranks of the Jedi at their height. He brought down a Republic. Do you think you can stand alone against him?"

Vader's voice was strangely quiet, defeated, regretful almost, to Luke's ears...or perhaps he was just tired.

"Do you see the future?" Luke asked at last, without turning.

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"I sensed the vision tonight." Vader confirmed his son's unspoken question without reluctance, aware of how it would have gnawed into the boy, left alone with his thoughts. Perhaps that was why he had come here tonight, even though now that he was here, he had no idea what to say or how to offer any kind of comfort.

His son remained silent for a long time, lost in thought. "Do you think Master Yoda sensed it?"

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Luke was aware that this question was testing the distance that he sought to maintain between himself and Vader, but in that moment was unable to stop himself, desperate for reassurance that Yoda had been forewarned.

Vader was silent for a long time, which was all the answer Luke needed. When he eventually spoke, though he tried hard to soften his tone, Luke heard only a chilling finality.

"No." Perhaps sensing Luke's desolation, Vader added, "But you are not to blame."

Luke turned slightly, though it was in disbelief, not hope.

"You once said to me that you had made your decisions. You must accept then, that Master Yoda made his. When he took you from me. When he lied to you about your past. When he.."

"Don't," Luke said quietly, the word broken by tiredness and regret; he couldn't do this again. Not tonight.

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Vader fell silent, unable to maintain his anger against that. Finally he had to speak out. Perhaps this was why he had come here, to say this: "I did not give you up, you were stolen from me. Remember that."

The boy shook his head. "Did you even try to find me?"

"I thought you lost when your mother died. I thought I had lost you both."

"But you didn't know."

"Do you think I would have deserted my own son?" Vader asked, appalled at the accusation. "If I had known you were still alive, nothing could have stopped me from finding you. They could not have hidden you from me."

The boy turned away, unable to hear this now. Unwilling. Perhaps it was easier to be angry, to have Vader angry, to reinstate those boundaries and not have to deal with any of this. "And what would you have done...brought me here?"

Vader paused at that, knowing it would have been his intent.

His son's voice fell to a bitter, accusing whisper when he spoke. "What father would do that to his own son? Ever."

"You would have been where you belonged--with your father."

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"What protection is that?" Luke asked bleakly, the rebuke obviously cutting deep, though the truth in his accusation made his victory a hollow one. "I'm very tired," Luke said at last, turning away in dismissal, still rubbing at the hazy pressure in his head.

"It is a constant here," Vader said. "But it can be pushed back. You will find that there are spaces between and about it. It is there that you learn to exist."

Luke glanced back, knowing that Vader wasn't speaking of tiredness. "To exist isn't enough."

"There are times when to exist, simply to survive, is the greatest victory of all."

Luke shook his head, chilled by the warning. "It's no victory, just a rationalization of failure."

"Is that what you believe when you look at me?" The timbre in Vader's voice carried unmistakable menace, and Luke knew he was suddenly skating very close to the edge.

But it was where he wanted to be--at least with Vader. He desired no understanding, no commonality, no blurring of the line between them. "Yes, it is."

"I command an army in its millions and stand second only to the Emperor himself. My will dictates the fate of peoples and planets and systems alike. For two decades my word has been law."

"And you wasted it," Luke accused. "Because you knelt, spineless, willing to further the ambitions of a ruthless, vindictive old man--"

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Before he realized what he was doing, Vader had taken two fast steps forward to grab Luke's arm and yank him up and about...then he froze as his mind caught up with his actions, and he realized what he was about to do.

"Your word is not law here," his son said, venom in his voice, undisguised hatred in his eyes. "You don't command me."

Vader released him with a half-throw. "You are a foolish child. You know nothing of what you speak."

"If you dislike what I'm saying then leave," the boy hissed.

Unwilling to continue this tirade Vader turned and strode to the door. In the long seconds it took for the lock to cycle open his anger calmed, leaving him unsure how it had come again to this between them.

"Why do you always try to provoke?" Vader asked into the silence.

"To remind us both of what you really are," Luke replied, not bothering to turn.

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Eventually the door thudded closed and Luke was left again to silent darkness. He considered for a long time, but couldn't find it in himself to regret a single word that he had said.

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To be continued...

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