He turned sharply to her, and she saw some spark of the Emperor's Sith return, heard it as an edge in his voice as he let out an annoyed, derisive laugh, the familiarity of it setting a warm twist in Mara's stomach. "Hallin; how the hell he kept his mouth shut for five years I'll never know."
"He told me because he's proud; because he believes in you, because he trusts you."
Luke sighed, rubbing at his temples, "Then he's a fool."
"No he's not. Much as I'd like to agree, the truth is he's one of the smartest men I know- and he has faith in you."
Luke sighed again, shaking his head, eyes returning to that promise of freedom beyond the Palace walls, sharp edge and sharp accent instantly being eaten away again by doubt. "I'm not an Emperor, Mara- I'm not."
"You're not the Emperor," she corrected, "But then you didn't want to be- didn't ever intend to be. What you did, you didn't do for yourself- that's why Hallin trusts you. That's why they all trust you- look to you now. You can hold all this together and still change its direction- you can do that. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"
And it had been- once. But she was wrong; Hallin was wrong - because in the end, he'd faced Palpatine for his own reasons. The truth was that Palpatine had hurt him and he'd sought retribution. Even when he'd told Palpatine that he intended to tear down the Empire the Sith had built, that he would scour any trace of its creator from history, it had been for his own reasons... hadn't it?
He couldn't quite remember any more- couldn't trace where the desire for revenge ended and the desire to create a better order began. They merged and muddied and in truth... he didn't remember anymore whether that mattered.
"Use you feelings, boy; bend the power they contain toy our own will. They make you invincible." His Master's teachings rang in his head and how could that make him anything but Sith? How could that make him a better choice?
He'd fought too hard for too long and somewhere along the way he'd lost some vital part of himself; ethics, principles, integrity- conscience? He didn't quite know. He just knew there was a gaping hole inside of him and it would be so easy to fill that void with power and ambition... and was that wrong?
He couldn't remember; couldn't remember what he'd once wanted... what he'd once been. And that scared him. Far more than ancient prophesies and Sith Masters, the realization of that scared him.
Luke shifted in his seat, hand going to his side, the wound still fresh enough to make him wince. He'd been holding everything together for so long under incredible pressure that it had become normal, but now... now he didn't need to. Now the constraints were gone and there was nothing hanging over his head and he didn't know how to live like this anymore... he didn't even know how. "I'm so tired, Mara; I'm so tired. They want me to be something I can't be- not anymore. They're all looking to me to be something I cannot be."
"They want you to be exactly who you are, Luke. That's who they have faith in."
He pursed his scarred lips, fingers brushing lightly over the startup toggles, playing out the sequence that would flare the engines into life. "Absolute power corrupts absolutely- have you heard that before?" he asked at last without looking up.
"That's just an old saying Luke; real life's more complicated than-"
"What if it's not?" he said immediately, "What if it really is that simple? If I try, and fail... who'll stop me? I don't want to be the next Palpatine."
"Then don't be."
"How do I know? How do I know when I've stepped over the line?"
"You'll know," she assured, "Just be yourself."
He brought his hand to his temples, eyes closed, voice deathly tired. "I don't know who that is anymore."
"This is you." Mara said, putting all her own faith into those words, "You're the man who's sat for the last hour in this cockpit and tried to leave, but couldn't quite summon the selfish indifference that'd make you able to do so. You think I don't know you at all, but I know that; you can't quite bring yourself to abandon these people or their faith in you. You'll stay because it's the right thing to do and you know it. You won't let them down." She reached out to rest her arm lightly on his, the weight of it easing his hand away from the startup toggles - and felt it give, just slightly. "And they won't let you down. No-one's asking you to do this alone. We're all here... we'll get through it- we'll make a difference. Isn't that what you always wanted- to make a difference?"
He was silent for a long time, wrestling with private demons, foot still tapping restlessly against the pitch pedals and Mara remained still, giving him time, knowing to push no further.
Finally the restive tapping slowed to silence and he seemed to relax, body losing tension, tired eyes falling away from that narrow strip of starlit night.
When he eventually turned, it was with a sharp glint in those mismatched eyes, no trace of regret or misgivings in his voice or his straightening stance, the change as total and as mercurial as ever, "If I'd left... would you have come with me?
It was a searching challenge rather than tentative concern. Still, Mara squeezed his arm in reassurance, "I'd have followed you to the end of the galaxy."
"And then what?"
She smiled, "Then I would have brought you back here and told you never to scare me like that ever again, Skywalker."
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CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
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Reece walked calmly out into the anteroom, turning to the first figure waiting there, one of many summoned to the new Emperor's presence in the days following his formal investiture, nervous tension holding their backs straight, everyone waiting to see how the new Emperor would choose to stamp his identity onto his new Office in those first weeks. To date he had been disturbingly quiet; restrained even, though there was a sense that a great deal was going on behind the scenes, away from the public eye.
"The Emperor will see you now." Wez Reece, the new major-domo to the new Emperor, was settling into his role with more noticeable ease.
Mas Amedda rose and set forward, leaving Chancellor Cordo to gaze dolefully after him.
He walked into the office, large and elegantly proportioned but simply furnished; hand-made, aesthetic pieces of effortless integrity, none of them familiar to Amedda- hardly to Emperor Palpatine's sumptuous standards.
The man who looked up from the reader at the far side of the wide, mirror-polished macassar-ebony desk however, embodied every bit as much presence as the old Emperor had- and every bit as much menace in his mismatched eyes. Hope at the whispered rumours that the Emperor was less than comfortable in his new role dissolved for Amedda, burned away by the self-assured poise in that intensely analytical gaze. Amedda slowed to a halt, bowing deeply, aware of the precariousness of his situation.
Chancellor Reece closed the doors as he entered the room, then walked unhurriedly to stand beside the Emperor, who steepled his fingers in thought, letting the silence hang heavy.
"Chancellor Amedda-" the Sith Emperor paused again, impassive, as if considering his words, "We have had a... less than ideal relationship to date; would you say that's a fair appraisal?"
It briefly crossed Amedda's mind to feign wounded surprise at the new Emperor's words but, familiar with Sith abilities and remembering to whom he spoke, he instead nodded just once, aware that his nervousness was darkening his pale blue skin to indigo but unable to stop it.
The Emperor glanced only briefly, just to clarify that he hadn't missed the fact, then caught Amedda's eyes once more. "However, in the interests of smoothing this transition, I am prepared to accept you back into the Cabinet... unless of course you feel your loyalties would be split?"