Like Reece, Mara had remained with Skywalker, ostensibly operating as something between aides and bodyguards, and she and Skywalker had reached a kind of informal status-quo quite quickly, each learning to operate around the others' restrictions, neither so impolitic as to mention this directly to the other.
The first year and a half of his new life, Skywalker had been a constant trial, alternately listless and disinterested, holeing up in the same three rooms to the back of his extensive quarters for weeks, even months at a time, then tearing about the Palace like a vornskr with a sore head, striking out at anyone who came close when he was summoned to attend Court by Palpatine, always baiting and chastising, provoking and punishing until one or the other of them cracked and the game began afresh.
It was the event of his promotion to the military which had finally settled Skywalker into his new life - or rather, Mara sometimes suspected, the attendant freedoms which came with it. As Commander in Chief of the Core Fleet, Skwalker had gained relatively free access out of Coruscant, even though the Emperor had placed a strict veto on his leaving the Core and Colony systems. To Mara's mind it was a pointless restriction; in the first place, he was travelling with the Core Fleet, so was hardly likely to come to any harm, and in the second, placing any restriction further out than the actual Imperial Palace was academic, since if he intended to leave he had proved very early on in his association with the Emperor that pretty much nothing could stop him.
She suspected very much that this move was in truth just another round in the eternal game that the Emperor played with his Jedi, though these days they weren't quite the one-sided affairs that they had been in the past, the stakes rising subtly over time as Skywalker learned his craft and his opponent, making each victory on the Emperor's part a little harder won. Yet Palpatine always enjoyed the challenge. He alternately adored his 'Feral Jedi', heaping gifts and power and accolades upon him, then turned on him with a vengeance, finding fault in the slightest transgression, his temper mercurial, his punishment always extreme.
And Skywalker took it all with equal withdrawn distance, never involved, always impassive and aloof, equally wary of praise and punishment both.
This was his retribution on his Master, and he knew it drove Palpatine to distraction- and he knew why; knew his Master's particular obsession. He wasn't blind and he certainly wasn't naïve anymore, Mara knew. Nor was he above playing to the Emperors' weakness - to a point. But he remained forever distant and detached, always reserved, always removed, well aware of the dangers inherent in the game he played.
Because eventually Palpatine would lash out in frustration... and Skywalker would endure it without protest - even incite it - until that too became part of the contest. The vernacular of a familiar language with which they were both chillingly conversant. Because for Luke it meant that he had scored a blow; he had provoked in Palpatine the same impotent frustration that his Master took such great pleasure in inflicting on others.
That his proof of this came in the form of violent retribution bothered him not in the least, even Mara could see that. He suffered in the moment, terribly sometimes- she had seen the proof etched into his skin, scars upon scars now. But the ability to trigger that reaction, no matter how severe, was a triumph and Palpatine was always pulled back in for one more skirmish. She knew her master well enough to know that this veiled tension was what he thrived on; any interaction with his Jedi was rewarding, but this battle of wills had become a fascination bordering on addiction.
And Skywalker just kept on pushing. Partly because it was in is nature to be headstrong and stubborn, but also because deep down, Mara suspected that he believed he deserved no better. In this they fed each other.
Mara remained just inside the door, uncertain of the Commander's frame of mind; visits by his father often induced quicksilver swings between seething rage and bleak melancholy. Knowing he was watching her reflection, she glanced back meaningfully in the direction which Vader had just exited."What did he want?"
"He is Lord Vader." The Commander corrected without turning, a warning to Mara to correct her tone when referring to his father. Though there was no love lost between them, Mara knew that Skywalker would tolerate no disrespect from others towards his father.
She also hadn't failed to note that it was an effective avoidance of the question, and since Mara hadn't the authority to demand an answer from the Emperor's Jedi, if he hadn't chosen to reply the first time, he certainly wouldn't do so if she tried to rephrase it and ask again. As it turned out, he didn't even give her a chance.
"Bring the ship about- join up with the Fury and the Dominant and resume course to Neimoidia. Alter lightspeed calculations to take account of our delay."
"Of course, Commander." Mara acknowledged, letting the moment go; she would try again later when he was in a better frame of mind. "What should I enter into the ship's log as the reason for the delay?"
He turned to her, clearly amused by the uncharacteristic lack of subtlety in the question. Mara was probably closer to him than anyone else in his life at present, yet there were still gaping chasms between them, measured by wary amity and divided loyalties. "The truth, Mara. I'm sure the Emperor expects no less from you."
.
Luke remained hidden away in the privacy of his ready-room as the Super Star Destroyer came about, its companion visible for a short time as it lined up in preparation for the jump to hyperspace, tiny fleeting glimpses of TIE's catching the sharp light of Duro's sun, dwarfed by the Star Destroyers' bulk as they headed for the safety of their relative ships for the jump.
He should have been out on the bridge, but the meeting with his father had left him uneasy and edgy, as they tended to do, and to go out onto the bridge now would only invite some poor, nervous unfortunate to err beneath his exacting gaze and bring his wrath down upon them. Better to stay here and cool down- his reputation was harsh enough without underlining it.
His Master continued to place spies within his Command Destroyer, and Luke continued to play the endless game of removing them as and when he saw fit under the guise of frustration at some apparent failure in their duties, suspecting very much that his reputation for running through fleet officers at a rate of knots was very much like his father's; a thinly-disguised method of replacing Palpatine's spies with his own loyal recruits.
There were others of course, whom he never removed. Some by dint of converted loyalties, some in the belief that it was better the devil you knew and a few who had gained some measure of immunity through familiarity. Which of these Mara Jade was remained very much under question- it had been the latter two which had defined their relationship for the last three years, but Luke still held out some distant hope that it may become the first- to some degree. Every ounce of rational intelligence told him to abandon this thought, but some tiny spark of conviction remained, which was why he allowed her so close, even knowing that she was his Master's informer, her limited ability in the Force enabling her to communicate information and receive orders from Palpatine at surprising distances.
He was still expecting at some future date to sense that grating burst of presence in the Force which meant that his Master had made contact, and turn just in time to see her bring her assassin's knife up to his throat...
The slight stomach-churning lunge as artificial gravity rushed to compensate for incredible speed marked the Peerless' jump to hyperspace, the stars outside streaking to infinity as they outran the sluggish drag of light. Luke stared blankly out into the void, completely unmoved by the spectacle which he had imagined a hundred thousand times as a boy, still locked to the dry deserts of Tatooine. Tatooine- it had been a long, long way from there to here, measure in lost souls and broken dreams rather than lightyears and parsecs...