Palpatine remained silent, seemingly unmoved, but Luke knew a sabacc-face when he was looking at one. Again he stepped forward.
"I'm worth nothing to you unless you use me. Give me this and in return I'll gift you the leader of the Rebellion and last of the Jedi."
He looked down as he spoke his next, unsure whether he was overstepping the bounds, but knowing his Master's dry humour, aware that he often responded well to outrageous audacity on the part of his advocate - and a little bare-faced flattery. "I was once told by a wise man that anything of worth comes at a price."
He looked up to the Emperor, wary-
Palpatine's yellow-flecked eyes narrowed and Luke held that gaze with equal intensity...... then the Sith Master's thin, dry lips pulled back over spoiled teeth in a cackle of wry amusement.
"Very well- I'll pay your price. You have my consent, Jedi... on this occasion only. Don't disappoint me."
Which was of course, exactly what would happen when Palpatine sent his stormtroopers to Degobah. Luke bowed low, to hide the triumph on his face, "I would never dare, Master."
Palpatine raised heavy brows as he leered a broken-toothed grin, "Yet you would dare anything else, it seems."
"I have learned at my Master's feet."
Palpatine's eyes narrowed, but in amusement, aware that he was being lionized but relishing it nonetheless. "And did this wise Master also teach you to deliver on your promises?"
Luke met the old man's eyes and stood straight, shoulders relaxing, loosing any lingering reluctance with a long, steady breath, "..... Degobah. In the Outer Rim, near the Rimma Trade Route."
It was, in the last, surprisingly easy to say out loud. Had he lost so much? Or was he finally finding his resolve?
"And where exactly on... Degobah should I be looking?"
"There are three continents. The smallest is on the equator, covered with rain forests. To its Eastern side there are three major tributaries, all visible from high orbit. I landed between the second and the third, in heavily-forested swampland."
The Emperor raised his eyebrows, "Co-ordinates?"
"No. The planet has wave-scattering attributes which interfere with instrumentation from low orbit down, which is probably why it's never been settled. I left three visual markers at high-canopy level which will be visible at nightfall if they're still operational."
Palpatine nodded, satisfied, and Luke turned to leave.
He was almost to the tall double-doors before his Master spoke out again.
"I had thought to send you to deal with Master Yoda personally." It was a test, Luke knew, and hardly a subtle one. But he played the game, pausing to half-turn back.
"I'll do as you command. If you wish me to go, then..." he trailed off in invitation, sensing the carefully-concealed tendrils of the Force reaching out to him as his Master sought to gauge his response. But there was nothing to hide, not in this; he had no qualms about returning to his old Master's hiding place - not anymore. Whether it was he or Vader who attended to this was immaterial, and he allowed his Master to sense that. But that alone.
Palpatine hesitated for long moments, head to one side, then; "No- no I will send Lord Vader. He has an older score to settle."
"I'm sure he'll prevail." Luke said easily, unruffled by his own barefaced lies, tempering them with a hidden truth for his own amusement. "Master Yoda is hardly in his prime."
.
.
The Emperor's Wolf walked briskly across floors and levels to the cavernous grandeur of the Crossways, the massive, cathedral-ceiling space which linked the four Habitation Towers at their bases, heading for the Campaign rooms in the North Tower. He'd withheld much of the finer details from the plans he had been forming with the Intel Chiefs, both his Master's and his own, because one way or another he'd intended to go to Bothawuii. Now was the time to fill in the blanks and look for flaws.
He and his ever-present scarlet shadow of Royal Guards turned many heads as he traversed the crowded space, Luke oblivious to the fascinated glances and the deferential bows of the many staff here, their whispered voices echoing through the vaulted excess of the vast, ten-storey space.
Slowly, awareness of their massed presence filtered in through the Force- not because he was the centre of attention for so many minds, which he had learned to become accustomed to, but because of the undercurrent of disquiet and nervous apprehension which colored those thoughts at the sight of the Sith who walked among them.
He slowed, looking into the faces of people, none of whom would meet his eye. Eventually he stopped and just stood, gazing about him from face to face, an island in the widening flow of people about him, no-one wishing to come too close.
What were they afraid of - what did they see when they looked at him?
Two women passed, Courtiers, from their richly-embroidered clothes, willing to risk eye-contact, holding his gaze as they passed by, glancing back flirtatiously. Luke watched them, his expression changing not a whit at their apparent adoration. He knew what they saw- power, status, wealth. Nothing more.
For that they'd sell everything.
He frowned as he turned away, starting slowly forward again; was he so very different? What had he sold, to gain what he needed today.
He passed into the North Tower, his reply to Master Yoda's challenge when he had first arrived on Degobah searching for a teacher ringing in his ears;
'Will he finish what he begins?'
'I won't fail you.' He had promised in return.
Could the end justify the means...
Or was he lost in Darkness?
Hard experience had taught him that life was seldom as black and white as the pious sophistries his old Master had spouted among the lies he had weaved. How had the old Jedi expected one man to bring down an Empire alone - a task which his practised veteran mentor was clearly incapable of himself or he would have done so long ago. And yet he still expected Luke to be willingly bound to outmoded tenets which had so clearly failed anyway, even when the Jedi had stood at the prime of their power.
He quickened his pace now, his jaw set in frustration against the self-reproach which he could feel gnawing at the corners of his conscience.
Did he regret giving up the dead Jedi Masters last resting place?
Yes... and no.
He may have failed his old Master, but then Master Yoda had failed him too; had allowed him to face his enemy with a glaring, profound weakness. One so easily remedied - except that it would have broken Yoda's control of his new Jedi... interfered with his own goals.
How did that make the old Jedi Master any better than Luke?
Yes, he had failed Yoda, but his teacher had failed him first. He should have turned the mirror on himself when he was preaching of Darkness and Destiny.
Did that excuse Luke's actions? No. But he wouldn't be damned by one who was, to his mind, no better than himself. And anyway, the game wasn't over until all the cards were played- if he was to be damned, it should be then.
He hadn't quite failed the old Jedi Master yet.
.
.
.
Vader released the airtight seals on the meditation chamber in his private quarters at the Palace. It was well after midnight, but he had sensed his son's approach, subtle as it was. He doubted anybody else had.
He stood and walked from the otherwise empty room, divorced from it by the constraints of his life-support suit. In the chamber's oxygen-rich environment, he could at least remove his helmet - feel the air on his face again - but that was lost to him now in the real world, where his scarred lungs were too damaged to sustain him.
He could have remained in his chamber, spoken to Luke from there, but he didn't wish his son to see the automated, mechanical systems which kept him alive. Didn't wish him to know how little of the man that was his father was left. So instead he waited in the near-darkness of a receiving room, where there was at least some semblance of a normal life on show for the benefit of those few who came here. Vader himself never used the room and had chosen nothing in it save for the large canvas hanging on one wall; a view of the Varykino Lakes, in the mountains of Naboo.