Into the Storm

Chapter 6

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CHAPTER SIX

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The substantial double-doors cycled through their release, grinding open on hidden sliders.

That's one very heavy door, Luke thought dryly as he turned from the chair by the thick bulk of the reinforced window.

He'd been left alone to his thoughts all day. Only not quite alone; two Red Guard had stayed in the room, standing to either side of the door throughout the day, visited occasionally by the hard-eyed redhead. At first, he'd been uncomfortable beneath their constant, silent scrutiny, but had eventually rationalized that they didn't seem inclined to interact or interfere at all. Finally, he'd decided to simply ignore them, and wandered round the massive, split-level bedroom, walking down the wide, intricately mosaic-tiled corridor which led to a dressing room and a 'fresher suite, both windowless. Hung neatly in the dressing room to one side of the corridor were five complete sets of clothing, all of which were in dark hues of midnight blue, somber slate gray and black. All of which, disturbingly, looked like they'd fit him perfectly.

He'd left, not wishing to think about it for the moment.

Back into the cavernous bedroom, the rooms beyond still locked to him, the guards at the door. He'd studied the tall transparisteel sheets in the windows carefully. Up close, they were threaded through with two interwoven layers of fine filament, tough enough as to be visible to the naked eye; you didn't see that even in military vessels.

He'd wandered again round the substantial room, hands dragging casually against the walls, wondering how thick they were. He'd stood as close as his wary guards would allow him to the huge carved wooden doors, knowing they wouldn't be wood, remembering their thickness from the night before and pondering how the locks worked.

He'd wondered whether anyone would feed him.

He'd sat cross-legged on the floor before the window, meditating, trying to locate the others through the Force. Finding Leia had brought an unexpected smile to his face and he'd almost, almost, reached out to her, to try to make contact as he had done at Bespin. But fear of discovery had held him back; that they would realize that he could contact her, even if she couldn't reply, and so move her further away.

But he'd followed that trail...down...a long way down. Many, many levels below him and off to one side. Still, he'd found her, and so presumably the others. He made his first mental map of his surroundings; his position in relation to her, a vague idea of distance...

Then he'd broken the contact, already worrying that his transgression would be discovered. He'd concentrated on trying to raise mental barriers, pushing out the grating buzz which pressed against his thoughts, forced by necessity to begin to develop this skill beyond what Yoda had taught him.

He'd gazed out again at the monolithic Towers and the distant city beyond, forehead resting against the inches-thick transparisteel. A million lives being lived, ordinary, normal lives...he craved that now with easily as much ardor as he'd once craved the excitement of adventure far from Tatooine.

He'd watched a fiery sunset, the huge moon stained red by the dying embers of the day.

He'd wondered again if someone would feed him; realized just how unlikely that was, since he'd refused to eat at Palpatine's table last night. His jaw tightened at that, knowing that this was now a little war of wills. A stupid war of wills with only one realistic outcome.

He'd had the sense to sit last night rather than enter into that battle. What logic had deserted him when he'd refused to eat? Stupid; stupid thing to do. All the more so because he knew--he knew--that if he went back to that table, he'd still refuse to eat. Stupid, stubborn, ornery...

He shook his head slowly, chastising himself when Master Yoda was no longer around to do it for him. Chiding himself again at his negative frame of mind.

So when the door began its cycle to the sound of multiple bolts releasing in sequence, he'd been thankful for the interruption. The tight-lipped redhead had walked into the room on the balls of her feet, turning to him before the door was fully open.

Too soon; she knew where I was already. They have surveillance in here.

Cold green eyes fixed on him as she said simply, "The Emperor commands your presence."

He remained sitting in the chair for long seconds, wondering what she'd do if he said no... Wondering why he was even thinking that; he already had one pointless little battle going on right now, the last thing he needed was another.

He was learning--but to whose benefit, he wondered.

Aware that his gaze was still on her, the woman's intense green eyes turned momentarily wary. Luke watched her for several more seconds, taking in the cool, reserved look in his jailor's expression, wondering whether it was defensive reflex or real emotion.

Which left the burning question, what was really going on behind that glacial stare. "What was your name?"

She looked away, didn't reply. Luke dropped his head back down, massaging at his temples again. "Nice name. A little short." She'd relax eventually, relent a little. Push too hard and she'd only back off further.

Besides, he had a feeling he'd have the time to invest--and for some reason, he felt it should be in her. She was, after all, quite clearly responsible for security; for keeping him here. If nothing else, it would give him something other than the Emperor's meticulous little manipulations to think about...and that was a good thing.

He rose and walked loosely forward. The redhead stepped back warily so she remained outside his reach.

"Jumpy little thing, aren't you?" he murmured lightly.

She set her head to one side, those cold eyes remaining pointedly unamused as he passed by.

He walked again beneath the stretching, arched ceiling of the lounge, his two guards falling into pace behind him as he passed huge, heavy furniture to equal the scale of the room. Six Royal Guard remained at the door he had passed through, six more at the door he walked toward. Into the huge hall, exactly as before, dim shadows lit by scarlet flames, the long table set and laden with food.

And the Emperor, hooded yellow eyes burning into him, cold amusement written clear on his face.

Luke felt his hackles rise; forced himself calm again by strength of will. Still, he couldn't stop his jaw clenching and his eyes narrowing, which only brought a wide smile to the old man's thin, bloodless lips.

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Palpatine smiled at the boy's instant reaction as he entered the room; how he advertised every emotion on his face, how he blared it out through the Force.

Did he not realize?

How refreshingly naïve he was, how wonderfully unaffected and artless. It was a pity that this would be lost--sacrificed to Darkness. But how useful it was here and now, all that passion and zeal. How easy it was to twist and use...once one had a strategy.

Because any intense emotion was a weakness, especially when it came to the boy's father. He had sensed it in their first meeting last night, all that anger, that confusion, that wonderfully impassioned denial--not necessarily to believe; he knew it was true--but certainly to accept. That was what drove him now. Loyalty too, of course; to his friends and his cause, but that was of no use to Palpatine. It could be made to serve his ends, but only in the most limited sense. He had needed something greater, something deeper. Loyalty was a strength--he had needed a flaw. And now he had found one, so considerately provided by Kenobi.

Because the boy was afraid. Not of Palpatine, although he should be. But that lesson could and would be taught, in a manner which he would never forget.

No, this fear was very different...and wonderfully destructive.

This was fear that his father's fate was his own, because the same weakness ran in his veins. That had glared out in their short discussion last night; fear that his fall, like his father's, was inevitable. All twisted through with resentment, with true, bitter hatred of Vader because of it. And betrayal. By Kenobi, to have lied so easily, by the father he never knew he had; found and lost in a single beat of a bruised heart.

Wonderful, primal emotions. Powerful and undeniable.

Given time of course, the boy would have come to terms with his heritage; time and distance always afforded perspective. But Palpatine had no intention of granting either. He had gained Skywalker at just the right moment--and he fully intended to exploit it. He would push forward whilst the boy was still reeling, underline that connection, that perceived weakness. Convince him of its reality, the inevitability of his fate, the weakness in his blood. Keep them close, father and son; keep them in opposition. Always pushing, always goading, never the time to come to terms, to deal with this vulnerability. Stir up all the crippling fears and doubts which fed that resentment and then release the boy on his father.

Yes, a wonderful, gaping weakness.

There were others, of course, and he would use them all, but nothing like this. This had already delivered his new Jedi to him. With careful manipulation, it would give him his Sith.

That thought brought a smile to his face, which unsettled his Jedi even further. Palpatine turned to hide his amusement, walking slowly to his own chair and sitting before finally looking up to his Jedi indulgently. "Sit."

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Even at this, so simple an invitation handed out with such subtle, hidden agenda, Luke felt his momentary stubbornness kick in. But he walked to the chair and he sat; he too had an agenda tonight.

The Emperor nodded to the laden table. "Eat."

The worst thing was Luke knew Palpatine was right; he should eat. Every soldier knew that. You eat when you can, you sleep when you can, because you never know when either will be taken away. Two days without food and already frail from his injuries, he could feel himself weakening physically if not mentally. He should eat. If the opportunity came to make an escape, he would be too weak to take it in another day. He should eat.

Don't be stubborn. Eat.

"No." He wilted at his own obstinate will.

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Palpatine merely glanced to the servers, who stepped forward to fill the smoky glass goblets with dark, ruby wine. He watched his Jedi glance momentarily at the food on the table then look resolutely away toward the fire in the hearth. He must be hungry by now, Palpatine knew. Vader had been instructed to feed him little, and the boy had not eaten at all since he arrived here. Nor would he; he wanted his Jedi to be left hungry, save at this table. Wanted this wild thing to learn to eat from its new Master's hand.

The boy had picked the wrong thing to fight over and he knew it, Palpatine could sense that much, but still he fought--couldn't help but do so. Strong-willed, like his father; stubborn. The strength which could be a weakness, with a little careful direction. The weakness which could be a strength, if he didn't hold it in check. Still, if all went to plan, this particular battle would be concluded tonight...or at least rendered worthless.

He nodded, and the servers and Luke's shadow-guards bowed and walked in silence from the room.

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Luke caught again the tantalizing glimpse of freedom from the bright corridor beyond, where guards stood against the far wall, weapons drawn. Far wall; very far. Was it a corridor or another room?

Palpatine settled, drawing Luke's eyes and his mind back to the moment. "I'd like to know where my companions are," he said, voice steady.

The Emperor only gazed back in silence.

"I know that they're here, in the main Palace below," Luke said firmly. "I'd like to see them."

The Emperor remained still and this time Luke let the silence hang, prepared to wait it out.

Finally, Palpatine spoke. "Do you have any other glaring weaknesses you'd like to declare?"

Luke tilted his head, refusing to be drawn. "I'd like to see them."

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Palpatine smiled just slightly at the battle lines being drawn; if the boy thought he could direct the conversation, then he was wrong. "They are traitors, which makes them your father's jurisdiction," he said, taking the discussion instantly back to where he intended.

"And who commands Vader?" the boy parried.

Palpatine ignored the challenge. "I am curious--you seem...uncomfortable acknowledging your father as such, child."

The boy held his silence for long seconds, gritting his teeth against the reply he so clearly wished to make, fighting to keep his mind on the goal. Palpatine let his expression change not a whit, but inside he leered at the boy's grinding jaw. Already this flaw tormented Skywalker, and Palpatine would lose no opportunity to twist that knife, to work that wound wider. Still, the boy held focus admirably.

"I would like to see my companions."

"Why?"

"To know that they're alright."

"You have the ability to do that without seeing them. It runs in your blood."

The boy's eyes hardened just slightly at that.

"You are...uncomfortable that they are here." Palpatine made this a statement rather than a question, leaving the boy to wonder whether the Emperor had read his mind, or simply stated the obvious. Either way, he said nothing. Instead he took the goblet of wine in his hand then, as if he felt that this was a patent fact that he should nevertheless clarify, he added, "Their freedom is for sale, of course. For a price."

"I very much doubt that--unless it serves your own ends."

"Heh. You judge me too harshly, Jedi."

"I don't think that's possible."

Palpatine only laughed, as if sharing a joke with an old friend. "I have found over the years that everything has a price."

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Luke didn't miss the inference, but chose to ignore it. Instead he let the silence hang heavy for a long time as Palpatine gazed steadily at him...

Finally, with a low sigh of reluctant resignation, but knowing he could do nothing else, Luke asked, "The price is?"

"Well done, Jedi." The Emperor set down the goblet and leaned forward slightly, as if the game were finally afoot. "The price is...what...?"

He hesitated theatrically, mocking yellow eyes fixed on Luke, thin lips pulled back from stained teeth, as if this were a question he had only now given any thought to, though even knowing him as little as he did, Luke knew that wouldn't be the case. He leaned back in distaste; at having to deal so civilly with this creature--at being here at all.

In his excitement, the Sith didn't seem to notice. "What is...what is your little Princess worth?" He seemed to consider this for a moment, then, "Ah, but she is my exception. I think nothing will keep her from the executioner's block."

Luke's heart skip a beat. "You need them alive."

Palpatine smiled a death's-head grin. "I need only one of them to hold you, Jedi. And Leia Organa has been a thorn in my side for too long. Now that I have her, an example must be made--one that my enemies will remember."

Luke's chest constricted at the words, so casually uttered, as if Leia's life was some insignificant part of a much larger game.

"The Wookiee will go to the Kessel mines," the Sith added. "He has some strength, he may well last the year out. Calrissian will go with him, though I doubt he will do the same. The Corellian will stay here for now. Your father believes he will be enough to hold you."

"Vader knows nothing about me."

"He said you asked after the Corellian when you were injured," Palpatine said, implicating Vader in his plotting.

"Because I knew he was the only one who wasn't there."

"Still, you wanted him extricated from the Hutt gangster."

"I would have asked the same of any of them."

"Which is reason enough to believe the Corellian of worth to you." The Emperor shrugged elaborately. "If he is not, then you should say so now and I will have him executed tonight--he's of no value to me. Perhaps then I would have to fall back on your little Princess. Solo's death may just keep her head from the block. For now."

Luke lifted his hand, rubbing at the center of his temple against this provocation. What did he say? Did he say no, Han was worth nothing to him, and risk the Emperor carrying through his threat simply to call Luke's bluff? He knew he'd still have Leia and Chewie to control Luke...

With the stakes too high to feint, he said nothing at all. Palpatine steepled his fingers expectantly, his air one of assured amusement, and Luke could only grit his teeth in the face of these continual provocations and manipulations.

Still the Emperor gazed expectantly for long seconds. "So then--what is the Corellian's freedom worth to you?"

"Leia's first," Luke said, making the Emperor's eyes narrow.

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"No--no, I have plans for your little Princess," Palpatine said deliberately, setting shields to hide his intent from the boy, though not too many or too deliberate; a direct lie could often be detected by the simple fact that it would be notably shielded. But then Palpatine seldom fell back on such vulgarities. In that moment, he very much longed to carry out the threat he was issuing; the girl was nothing but a malicious agitator, and would be a constant spur to Skywalker to keep on resisting Palpatine's will. It was this knowledge that Palpatine relied on now, along with his very genuine intention to remove her, one way or another; he allowed the boy to sense that much.

"You said all things could be bought." The boy knew that he was being led, but he also knew that the threat to Leia was very, very real.

Palpatine struggled to withhold the smallest of smiles from twitching the corners of his lips. How vulnerable they made him...and he knew this, yet still he defended them. "For a price. You cannot afford hers."

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"So you have one." If Luke could gain her only a stay from execution, it would give him time to work out some plan to get out of here. Or buy Leia and Han the chance to do the same.

The Emperor's eyes turned to the huge fire in the grate as he considered and Luke found himself holding his breath in anticipation.

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Palpatine stood and took a few steps toward the fire, his casual manner belying the importance he attached to this conversation. All future plans were decided by it, whichever way it went.

When he spoke, it was in quiet, considered tones. "Twelve weeks...yes, I think that is fair. Twelve weeks of your undivided attention. I would take no less, not for her."

He turned to his Jedi, who frowned for long seconds as he deciphered the offer...then his eyes opened wide, and Palpatine knew he understood. The boy almost refused outright...but he hesitated a fraction of a second--and Palpatine knew he had him.

"Twelve weeks of your compliance, Jedi. At the end of that time, I will let her go."

Skywalker tilted his head before laughing doubtfully, as if unable to believe he was even discussing this. Seeing that, Palpatine pushed on, wanting the deal done before his Jedi thought too long on it. If he gave him time to consider, he knew the boy would simply decide that a better option would be to begin his own escape attempts, and though Palpatine wasn't afraid the boy would escape, he didn't wish to be put into direct contention with him just yet.

He had to curtail such thoughts now; ensure that Skywalker would remain reasonably amenable in the coming weeks. Already he could see resentment at his incarceration settling into the boy's features; another day or so and it would poison his mind, making him unreachable. He would dig his heels in and force a confrontation out of nothing more than his own innate stubbornness. That would come eventually anyway, Palpatine knew, but he didn't want it yet, with so many precedents and practices still to lay in place; compulsions to be hidden within conventions, influence within routine.

Some mutually binding contract had to be established, a way to tie Skywalker down with openly agreed terms on both sides. An obligation that his new Jedi, still bound by those high moral principles, would hold to once he had agreed.

Much as he would like to execute the troublesome ex-senator and so lop off one of the Rebellion's heads, this would gain him far more in the long run. But if the boy didn't yield, then yes, he would carry through on his present threat--having made it he couldn't afford not to--and there were other alternatives. Though this was the most advantageous, if all went to plan.

But he needed the boy to agree to this now. And to do that, he needed to stop him looking at the greater picture and instead become mired in the details. "I will let her go. Anywhere she chooses, with my guarantee of safe passage."

"Your guarantee is worth nothing," the Jedi countered. But he didn't refuse the deal.

"My word--as a Sith."

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"That's worth even less." Luke was instantly aware of the insult he had just issued. Tellingly, Palpatine seemed not in the least offended.

"Then what do you suggest, Jedi?"

Luke paused, aware on some level that he was being railroaded, but willing to talk at this point, curious as to what he could achieve. If the deal was good enough, then perhaps he should consider it. Years of trading in the deep desert had taught him to start high and be bartered down.

Aware of this, of the outrageous nature of what he was about to ask--and of the fact that he had nothing to lose at this point--he spoke out. "Let them go now, all of them. Let them all go, and I'll stay. For twelve weeks."

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Palpatine laughed out loud at this--but he kept the negotiation going; established that all-important precedent. "Out of the question. Do I look like a fool?"

It had to seem like the agreement was of the boy's choosing as much as Palpatine's. If it was Skywalker who placed the deal on the table now, then he would only have himself to blame later...

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Luke kept his expression solemn. "I give you my word--as a Jedi."

"And I should take that?" Palpatine said, incredulous. "When you allow me no such recognition?"

"My word," Luke repeated against this.

The Emperor's eyes narrowed and he turned away, his back to Luke now. After long seconds, he spoke out. "I will not give you all four. One must stay."

"Not Leia." Luke's voice was firm.

"The Corellian," Palpatine said with equal resolve.

Luke paused; it still gave Palpatine a lever to control him...but to have the others gone, now--he hadn't hoped to gain even close to this much. "How will I know they're safe?"

"You are a Jedi; of course you will know."

Luke remained silent, eyes wary, and Palpatine shrugged, dismissive. "I am sure you would have no compunction about dissolving the agreement, if you believed it broken."

"What exactly is the agreement?" Luke said, drawn in further in spite of himself, with so much now in the pot.

"I would simply like to continue our talks." The Emperor was casually dismissive, as if he were asking for nothing at all. "And I would like your word--not as a Jedi, not as a soldier, but your word--that you will do the same. That you will remain here for the agreed twelve weeks without contention. Willingly; no attempts to escape, no premeditated disobedience. No obstruction or belligerence. A civilized dialogue...by both parties."

"Just that," Luke said dryly.

"Just that."

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Palpatine watched as the boy fell to silence, and forced himself to do the same, to act as if this were unimportant to him.

"Twelve weeks is a long time."

He could sense the boy considering, weighing up the advantages against the drawbacks.

"To buy three lives? I think it very cheap."

"But clearly you don't, or you would have pushed for more," Skywalker said in a moment of wary clarity.

Uneasy at this, Palpatine only shrugged, unwilling to be forced to validate his offer. "How is it any different than what we are doing right now, Jedi? I have told you, I merely wish to maintain a dialogue. In order to do that, I am willing to offer this truce; a gesture of goodwill."

"I don't believe you'd do anything that wasn't to your advantage. The deal is more than biased in your favor."

"But then I hold all the cards."

"Except the one that matters," the youth held pointedly.

"Even that is in my hands."

"But you don't control it."

Palpatine laughed aloud at that. "No one will control you, Jedi, unless you choose to allow it. I am buying your attention, not your will. And even that only for twelve weeks."

Still the boy hesitated, and Palpatine pushed just a little further. "Have you so little faith in your own resolve, that you think you could be so easily swayed?"

He chose not to answer that. "At the end of that time?"

Palpatine smiled inwardly, knowing he had him! "The agreement is fulfilled; we owe each other nothing more."

Twelve weeks would be more than enough. More than enough to bind the boy to him, to prize open all those weaknesses and exploit them. To gain a Sith.

He stepped close for the first time, towering over the seated youth. "Are you afraid?"

"Not of you." The boy held his gaze, unflinching, though he knew the lie; he would be stupid not to be.

Palpatine leered, wondering if Skywalker realized the depth of the slip in his own words, his gaze never leaving the boy's. In silence, he held out his hand...

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The pressure bearing down on Luke in that moment felt like it was crushing the air from his lungs. Should he do this? It bought him so much...but was the price too high?

Master Yoda had known they would be a weakness. Had warned him even before he left Dagobah to let his friends go. Had actually asked that he sacrifice them to the greater cause. Did he know Luke so little? Luke shook his head slightly in consideration...because he couldn't abandon them then, and he couldn't do it now. Was incapable of it; it was against his very nature to do so. He had lost so much, had so much ripped away from him, had willingly given so much more... But he couldn't do this. He couldn't desert those he held so close.

He knew--knew that this would cost him dear...

The Emperor held his hand steady; pallid, deathly-white, its long, ridged nails curved like claws--and all Luke could see was that hand about Leia's neck, tightening...

And he couldn't hold out against that.

His heart beat hard against his ribs, but he knew he was committed; had been from the moment he left Dagobah, in truth.

Still, when he took the old man's hand in silent agreement he felt an involuntary shiver slice down his spine and he jolted just slightly against the turmoil which shocked through the Force--as if everything had forcibly inverted, twisting about and within itself in a convulsive spasm. Reflex jerked his hand back but the Sith kept a solid, unyielding hold, his relentless grip cold as the grave.

"We have a pact, Jedi," he said gravely, holding Luke firm for long seconds, and releasing him only grudgingly.

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To be continued...

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