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Someone tapped lightly on the door, catching Hallin's attention; Commander Jade raised her eyebrows in question and he nodded her in.

"Any change?" She murmured, hesitant and hopeful. It had been five days since she'd last visited; the day they'd arrived at the Palace

Hallin shook his head. "Nothing, I'm sorry. Perhaps you'd like to sit a while with him? Lord Vader will be gone for a few hours." He instantly regretted adding the last; it was impolitic of him to speak so openly here; proof of how little sleep he was existing on, but she didn't glance up from Skywalker, only nodded and stepped forward.

"You should speak to him." Hallin prompted, "His eardrums are repairing so he can hear you now. Sometimes it helps." He heard the defeat in his own voice but was too tired to hide it, turning to shuffle from the room.

As he reached the door, Jade called him gently, "Hallin? I just wanted to..." Her face was uneasy as he turned to her, her voice lacking its usual confidence. ".... Thanks. For stepping in. I know it was you."

He smiled tiredly, "Are there no secrets in this place?"

She set her head to one side, green eyes bright in the low light, "More than you think."

Hallin froze at that, but managed the slightest of disconcerted smiles, and for the first time, she allowed one back, glancing away as she did so, "Anyway... thanks."

He raised his eyebrows, glancing pointedly to Luke before he turned to leave, his perfectly-modulated tones as pithy as ever. "I didn't do it for you."

.

Mara turned back to Skywalker, smiling affectionately, "Hey, remember me?" She had been banned from visiting Luke since they'd arrived, Palpatine rounding on her that first night when he had found her in the room.

"What are you doing here?" he'd grated, making Mara flinch inwardly. This was the first time she had seen him since her arrival, and she'd been expecting some kind of rebuke.

"I was... checking..."

"You have no right to be here." His words caustic with accusation and Mara frowned, uncertain, his stare withering her.

"Since you seem incapable of carrying out the task which I assigned you, you are hereby relieved of it. Return to your quarters. There will be no more contact between yourself and my Jedi."

Mara had shrunk back before that, the punishment settling like a stone in her stomach, leaving her cold. "I couldn't stop him- I tried to make him..."

"Tried?" He bit out, tone mocking and dismissive. "The Emperor's Hand does not try- she does not whine like a child. You're pathetic- get out."

He turned to his Jedi, hand reaching out, then glanced up at Mara who had remained frozen to the spot,

"GET OUT!!" he shouted, and the body-blow in the Force sent her staggering backwards, knocking the air from her lungs in a gasp, making her lift her hands in defence as she slammed into the wall behind her.

Skywalker flinched in sleep, the readouts on the monitors peaking momentarily, bringing the Emperor's eyes back down to him.

He didn't look up as Mara gathered herself together, bowed before her master and walked shakily from the room. She'd passed Hallin in the corridor - he never went far from The Heir - but didn't turn or acknowledge him, head down, eyes glassy.

And now, suddenly, she was allowed back. After five stomach-churning days of worry and countless comms to his apartments enquiring as to his condition, all of which had been returned with the short, official form explanation that The Heir was unavailable at the present time, his whereabouts confidential.

Then, less than an hour ago, she'd been visited by Saté Pestage. The Emperor, he informed her, had in his magnanimous generosity, decided that she would be allowed one more chance to reprieve his low opinion of her. She would be reinstated - on parole - to her previous position. Not because he had any great faith in her, but because he had been advised that medically, at the present time it was in The Heir's interests to keep those with whom he was familiar close.

She'd walked straight here- practically ran.

.

Now she sat alone in the room with the man who had slowly crept under and around every barrier she'd constructed to keep him out. Without even realising it - that was the galling thing; he didn't even know. But whether he knew it or not, he was under her skin and messing with her head and making her stomach do little backflips whenever he let his own shields down just enough to flash her a grin or a sideways glance full of dry humour and easy charm. Five days away from him, the threat that she may never see him again hanging like a thunderstorm over her head, had clarified a few things which had been stewing for way too long.

From an early age she'd lived in the Palace, and she'd always been taught that one day she would be a soldier, and a soldier learned that in any tough situation, you step back and you calm down and you look at the facts. You come to a conclusion based on those facts then you decide a course of action which will bring that conclusion and your mission objectives to a convergent route.

It had taken her a long, long time to reach those conclusions about Luke and realise just exactly what she wanted that optimum outcome to be, all of which clarified as never before that some things just defied logic and when they did, you had to throw the rule book out the window and damn well get on with it. Live with it. Deal with it. Stop trying to ignore it. She'd tried that for the last three years and the results weren't exactly sparkling to date.

New tack. New direction; "You listen to me, Luke Skywalker,"

She'd meant it to come out fierce and angry but it was small and scared and the rarity of that just made her all the more so, "You listen to me and stop messing around. You get your ass back in gear and open your eyes 'cos if you think for one moment that I'm gonna let you leave me all alone again then you are very wrong. This is all your fault - you and your stupid, big blue eyes. Well you'd just better open them before I black 'em both! Who the hell am I gonna play sabacc with if you're not here? I don't even like sabacc! I spend ten hours a week playing a game I don't even like and owe you about two years' wages! That should tell you something.... for a guy who can read minds, you seem to have a hell of a hard time knowing mine."

She studied him for a long time, looking for some response...

Eventually, she slumped again, reaching out to run the back of her fingers down his bruised cheek, pushing his hair back gently as she sighed deeply. "Wake up, Skywalker." She murmured at last, "Don't mess with my head. You're already messing with my heart."

.

Hallin stood in attentive silence several steps away from the door, hidden by the turn in the wall, smiling. This was what he needed - forget all the scans and the facts and the figures - this was what Luke Skywalker needed. He needed someone who cared for him, whom he had some connection to, to come in here and lead him back out. He needed someone he wanted to hear - he needed someone who needed him.

"Damn I'm good." Hallin murmured, walking away.

.

.

.

Days of waiting were marked by the staggered disappearance of medical machinery as a broken body slowly took time to heal, and the featureless square room which was once crowded by life-support systems fell to still silence as each one was removed. The pips and the beeps and the regulated, rasping breaths of the tracheostomy air exchange, which had formed the clinical background chatter of the room for so long, fell one by one to silence as medical intervention was no longer required until eventually all that was left was the neural monitor interface and the cradle scanner which still ran its silent track up and down beneath the bed, scanning its occupant with a muted 'pip' every time it returned to the cradle.