She felt physically sick- she was trembling.
The situation could cascade so easily; escalate out of all control- she knew that. Luke had said that to her!
He wouldn't back down this time...
But how could she blame the Emperor for acting on the information she'd given him? What alternative did he have? He had to act on it, she knew that. She'd known that all along; she'd held her silence at Luke's revelation about the duel with his father for so long because she knew that if she told Palpatine, it would destroy everything-
Destroy Luke.
But Palpatine said he wouldn't- he'd said this would be their secret, that to know was enough. He'd promised he wouldn't act. He'd promised her...
Yet already Court was dismissed, the levels about the Throne Room empty, and Mara's stomach was tightening into an icy knot which left her cold and breathless, arms wrapped about herself.
One impulsive moment of blind trust... it had always been so easy before to trust him. Perhaps she'd never had anything she feared to lose.
.
.
.
Palpatine stood in silence in the small anteroom for a long time considering, eyes narrowed, lips clenched to a thin line.
How credulous he'd been to trust his Wolf- how gullible.
How lenient for so long that the boy thought he could get away with this. How remiss.
He knew what the boy was; what he was capable of... hadn't he sworn that he would always watch his Wolf closely- that any dissent would be swiftly and mercilessly dealt with?
But he had- he always had.
The Sith narrowed his eyes, remembering again the vision which had haunted him for two long decades; of the wolf in the darkness, the warning within; pull the leash too tight and it will bite.
He'd seen the vision again, at dawn. Seen the feral wolf; seen the man stand as the dark sable cloak fell away. He closed his eyes and brought a pallid hand to cover them, replaying the vision with perfect clarity, searching for knowledge...
...
... ... ... ... ...
The wolf in the twilight; the feral creature which whispered through the darkness, at one with the night, wild and capricious- then in a flurry of shadows it was gone and he stared at the empty stillness, waiting...
He turned, uncertain, the silence profound.
Knelt before him in mute stillness was his Jedi, eyes turned down, a dark heavy cloak of dense, black fur draped about him, absorbing all light.
The wolf in the night...
Pull the leash too tight and he will bite.
His Jedi stood, the confining sable cloak he wore slipping from his shoulders as he wordlessly held out his hand, and once again Palpatine's eyes were drawn inexorably down to the lightsaber there, smeared scarlet red, the colour of anger and passion and betrayal...
Vader's lightsaber.
Take it.
His Jedi said, though his lips did not move.
Palpatine looked again to the lightsaber, perfect scarlet streams seeping over the inactive hilt, running in ruby rivulets, dripping in dark drops from his Jedi's fingers to pool on the floor at Palpatine's feet, soaking a stain into the trailing hem of his cloak...
He looked back to the boy's eyes, the perfect blue of ice in darkness...
His Wolf remained silent and impassive but something... something had changed in those eyes- and for a broken heartbeat that perfect glacial blue glowed with the finest sliver of red-tinged ochre.
Something tugged at Palpatine's mind as never before, making his heart skip a beat in trepidation- in...fear.
His Wolf blinked slowly and the momentary shift was gone, cool eyes leading Palpatine's gaze back to the saber he still held out.
Take it...or it will kill you.
Palpatine looked back to the saber hilt,
"Vader?"
His Wolf said nothing, merely held out the blood-wet saber, the pool of dripping scarlet beneath it spreading unevenly, fed by a trailing, glutinous trickle of blood which still oozed unevenly down the metal hilt.
Liquid life, rich and viscous.
Liquid death, weeping ruby tears.
Death...The lightsaber was not activated, but he could hear the bass hum of non-existent blades, the hiss of superheated light.
Death...
... ... ... ... ...
...
Palpatine's eyes flashed open in denial, in fury, a snarl of frustration curling his lip. Would he yet have to kill the boy? Would that alone break the vision?
Or was Vader the threat - had he always been the threat? Surely not; his had been a slow conversion, a gradual attrition from youth to adulthood. Years of investment, time-consuming but predictable- guaranteed; a fixed, clear-cut path.
After five long years, why was the boy so different? What reserve did he tap into that his father could not, what had reduced and what had redoubled- and how? His father was Palpatine's; in some basic, elemental way he had been his from the first moment their eyes had met. What had changed in the space of one generation.....
Abruptly Palpatine remembered the ring; his mother's ring... his mother... the one uncontrolled variable. Still reaching out from the grave to harry him, it seemed.
And another thought occurred at that; he remembered challenging his Jedi at the time he found the ring. Skywalker had come after it the moment Palpatine had taken it... because he'd needed to disperse that suspicion before Palpatine thought too long on it; where he'd gotten the ring from, why his father would possibly have given such a thing up...
Hadn't Skywalker lied to him then? Looked him in the eye and lied, every answer calculated to remove blame and distance connection... to protect his father. Not himself, Palpatine realized; if he'd wanted to do that, he wouldn't have come, wouldn't have faced his Master- wouldn't have lied.
His father.... Palpatine thought again of the vision; of the warning within. Of a way to change the vision without losing his Wolf.
... Perhaps he had been using the wrong chastisement-
.
Yes- he knew now what to do. His first instinct had been correct; there was only one punishment for this, for placing another before his Master's wishes.. Palpatine had warned the boy time and again that if he did not resolve his own weaknesses then his Master would surely do it for him...
It was time to deliver on those words.
.
.
.
Luke received the comm late afternoon, the Communications Officer at Mosiin Barracks handing his own comlink over to The Heir. Luke took two quick paces back, pausing as the officers about him politely did the same to give him some privacy, "Yes?"
"Good afternoon, Sir. Forgive the intrusion."
Luke frowned at Reece's voice; those last words were a coded message to find a safe spot before continuing.
He took a further two paces back, but was well aware that the comlink wasn't encoded and the room could easily be bugged. "No- that's alright." 'No', was the message.