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.
Chapter 4
CHAPTER FIVE
.
.
Stood before the bank of tall windows in the private rooms within his sprawling apartments, Luke remained silent before his father's words, tired, at low ebb, wishing him to leave. The room was barely lit, and he stared out into the ever-moving lights of the Capital planet, Vader's voice a bass background tone which rumble at the edge of his awareneness.
Reece, Luke's Aide and a scarce ally here, had remained discretely in the room beyond, his presence a wash of concern and disapproval as Luke spoke with his father. Having now passed on everything which was necessary to maintain his deceit to the Emperor, Luke now simply wished Vader gone before one of them lashed out at the other, as they always did when their obstinate wills eventually clashed.
It was well past midnight and much as he disliked it, he had been forced to speak to his father, Vader answering Luke's unspoken nudge in the Force and coming to his apartments. If it had been safe to pass the information on through a third party then Luke would have done so without hesitation, but each extra person in the chain was one more possible double-agent and even a trusted ally could be easily read by the Emperor, so that, distasteful as Luke found it, he had contacted his father directly.
That they were seen to have met was unfortunate but unavoidable here in the Palace, so it was better to do so out in the open rather than try to hide it at all. Still, Luke had limited the damage as much as possible, admitting Vader to private rooms within the vast Perlemian Apartments, his designated residence in the West Tower of the Palace. The three private rooms set together in the corner of the sprawling, extensive quarters were his only safe haven within the Palace, all surveillance equipment here rendered inoperative. Every time he left the Palace with the Fleet, the devices were carefully restored or reactivated from the empty levels above and below his apartments, and every time he returned, Luke immediately invested the time in finding them and subtly disabling them with the Force. It was yet another ongoing battle of wills with the Emperor which neither ever mentioned but both upheld.
Now he remained silent, listening to the familiar rasp of the breathing mechanism in his father's suit, leaning subtly back against the upright chair behind him for support, his body still fatigued from Palpatine's unexpected choice of chastisement. In truth, he'd gotten off very lightly; his Master had flown into vindictive, violent rages over far less.
Which prompted the question- why? Why had Luke been allowed that defiance? Palpatine had even used the term indulgent - not generally a word he associated with his Jedi...
And what was 'about to transpire'?
.
"Luke?"
He turned, suddenly realising that Vader was speaking his name. "Yes?"
"Did you hear my question?"
"No. I wasn't listening." Luke said curtly, wishing to clarify that he had no interest in his fathers' claims; no curiosity in digging up old vendetta's one more time.
"Why did you not seek me out?" Vader asked, his tone indicating that he was condensing several previous questions into one.
Luke turned away again to look out into the distant city lights, considering.... not what to answer, but whether to answer at all. Should he simply turn around and leave the room?
After another long pause punctuated only by Vader's grating breaths, Luke sighed, annoyed as much at himself for allowing this conversation to continue as his father for initiating it. "I've told you- Ben said that my father had died, killed by Darth Vader."
The resentment bit out in Vader's bass tones; roiled through the Force like a wavefront. "Kenobi was a bitter, weak old man who filled your head with lies."
But though Luke was willing to answer his father, he was certainly not prepared to humour him. "Kenobi was right; my father died twenty-five years ago, when Darth Vader came into being. Everything he was, was destroyed by that creature- and him just the empty husk of pointless ambitions."
It was a pointed accusation, intended to bring this discussion to a close, but his father remained silent, prompting Luke to push further, his exhaustion giving him a brittle edge. He met his father's eyes, as if looking at an object of curiosity, his voice distant and uninvolved, "Was it worth it, all your ambition? Was it worth all the suffering you caused? How do you sleep now... or do you sleep at all? Can a machine sleep - or feel guilt?"
"I am trapped in this suit because of your precious Jedi teacher!"
Luke shook his head mildly, unoffended. "I don't defend him- I have no more loyalty to him any more than I have to you."
It was a subtle barb, casually delivered but with awareness of its power, Vader knew. The boy had long since learned to play the discreet games of the Palace which the Emperor had instigated- he had after all learned them from the true master. Intrigue, contrivance and artifice, true intentions hidden- or politely, patently clear.
Luke turned pointedly away to look out to the distant city, that reality growing ever more distant now- a fading dream, like so much of his old life. "But you're right, he was weak. He failed in his duty on Mustafar. He failed whatever beliefs and tenets he had held to in that moment. He failed the Jedi, he failed the galaxy- and he failed Anakin Skywalker."
Vader thought of all the misery and anguish Kenobi had rained down on his old student since that day- a revenge far worse than mere death. "I would have killed him, given the chance."