Palpatine lunged forward with a series of short, fast, measured blows, looking for flaws, testing for weakness- the boy had recovered from major injuries less than a year ago, his arm and shoulders shattered by a massive, close-range blast and while he was well-enough healed, their skill levels were so close that even the smallest flaw should be sought out and exploited; a fraction of a second, a degree less flexion- at this level, they were the difference between life and death.

The offensive brought the brunt of his first attack to Skywalker’s left side, seeking that advantage… but Skywalker held fast against the onslaught with only a single sidestep, deflecting every blow, repelling any advance, eventually taking the initiative and pushing Palpatine back three hasty paces before he disengaged and stepped beyond the boy’s reach, freshly wary.

Despite furthering Skywalker’s lightsaber skills in his early years here, Palpatine had always avoided duelling against the boy, even in practice; he was loathe to hand out any evidence as to his own ability when taking the opportunity to study and dictate his advocate’s form. So the boy knew little of Palpatine’s skill, whilst he knew his Wolf’s in detail, physical and mental, always an advantage.

He knew the boy was volatile and fearless; that when he fought, it was because he was at the end of his patience and thus he could be goaded into mistakes, but after that first burst of aggression Skywalker would calm and calculate; look for weaknesses to play to in his opponent, for opportunities in the terrain, for the unexpected strike and the unorthodox tactic.

He knew the boy would be committed to the fight; that he’d push every chance, leave no option untried. He knew he was agile and dextrous in mind and body, and that the duel had always been his lasting interest. That those endless hours of practice had ensured his technique had few flaws and many strengths to play on.

But there were other weaknesses to exploit; as he had with his father, Skywalker was clearly looking for a fair fight; he didn’t want - or more importantly he didn’t feel the need - to use the Force in any other way than to augment his skill with the lightsaber. He was fast in mind and body and Palpatine was well aware that in an ethical fight he would struggle to bring the boy down.

But then in all his dealings with the boy, the Sith had never once held to a fair fight- it wasn’t in his nature. The question was, had he taught that lesson by example too? It hardly shook his confidence, but it certainly concentrated his mind- and his resolve; the boy was deceitful; disloyal. Such betrayals deserved only one response.

Palpatine came quickly forward, batting Luke’s blade up and to the side and at the same time he threw out a Force-blow which landed to Skywalker’s midsection knocking the air from his lungs with enough force to send him staggering back a step, winded. Seeing the opportunity, Palpatine stepped quickly inside the boy’s defences…

And saw just how fast his opponent really was-

Rather than try to bring his own blade up to hook the incoming blade away Skywalker arched backwards. He’d already released his blade into his right hand as Palpatine had swept it aside so that now as he arched back, he dropped onto his left hand, springing away from Palpatine in a tight backflip, his blade arcing round behind him to hold his opponent at bay, a solid wall of light so fast was the motion.

Momentarily Palpatine paused, uncertain whether the boy realized how close to the edge of the raised dais he was, but Skywalker made an nimble, unexpected flip-and-half-twist backward which took him safely over the drop to land soundly on both feet, dropping into a crouch to absorb the impact.

The half-twist had left him facing away from Palpatine and the Sith hurried forward with a long step-and-jump to push the seeming advantage home. But as Skywalker landed he’d used the momentum of the high flip to spin himself about on the balls of his feet, half-crouching to avoid what should have been the Sith’s incoming blade, his own saber brought in tight to his body then whipping up in a massively powerful roundhouse blow as he stood-
Ironically it was Palpatine’s relative slowness to react and step into the feint which saved his life, leaving him that vital half-step away when Skywalker’s blade came up in a slice which would have cleaved him from hip to shoulder. As it was, it sliced through the cloth of his cloak as he backpedalled wildly, a vivid revelation of their relative dexterity.

Skywalker wasted no time lamenting the missed blow, already coming forward again, less than a single beat between the strike and his advance.

Palpatine sidestepped, the high dais at his back, giving ground before a hail of fast blows, and was only able to stop the offensive by reaching out through the Force to seize at the massive bulk of the heavy sunburst throne, its mass grating forward as Palpatine prepared to launch it to the boy’s unprotected side, as he had done moments earlier with the stone pillar-

But Skywalker was unwilling to make the same mistake twice and this time glanced to the side, dividing his attention without even reaching out his hand against the throne though Palpatine sensed a massive counter-weight thrown against it, forcing it back against his pull. As he released it, the weighty precious-metal throne toppled back where it stood with a dense, resounding thud, the massive beaten sun which formed its backrest gouging fine lines at the edge of the pale disk of inset marble which had once graced the Jedi Council’s assembly hall.

Still, it afforded Palpatine two further steps back and put sufficient space in between them that when the boy spun back round his opponent was beyond reach and they once more stared each at the other - and in the seconds that followed, whilst each man stood poised, ready to renew the fight at the slightest sign, Palpatine reassessed his view.

He’d never been blind to his young advocate’s speed and strength, but he’d always remained confident in his own supremacy for that very fact; his obvious superior experience, his seasoned mastery in comparison to his youthful apprentice. But Skywalker was no novice any more, his reflexes polished, his execution precise, diligently training, learning everything his exacting Master would teach him when Palpatine had prepared him for the duel with his father… and afterwards he’d devoted still more time to refining that ability, building on it and polishing it day on day, all in preparation for…

Palpatine’s eyes narrowed and his chest heaved as he stared at the boy… all those hours invested in practice - he had always thought them an avoidance of Court and its corruptions, or a strategy to deal with Vader, when Palpatine finally allowed his Wolf permission to finish the duel he had curtailed by force years earlier - but in light of Mara’s revelation, that had never been the case. Now the truth was enacted with cold confidence; now all those invested hours were meted out without qualm against his own Master…

Realisation filled Palpatine with cold fury-

This had been in his head; this moment. Every drill, every kata, every advancement and refinement- it had all been leading to this; all focusing down to this moment.
This duel.
This goal, this objective… this betrayal.

“YOU!” Palpatine spat out the accusation, sulphurous yellow eyes aglow, “You always wanted my Empire - wanted my power for yourself. That’s why you conspired with Vader!”

“Then why not kill me?” Luke almost shouted the words, fury and guilt barbed and bound within them “Why him? I disobeyed…I challenged you - not him!”

“You are more useful to me- despite your ambitions.”

“And that’s it?” Luke yelled, incredulous, “That’s the limit of your compassion- your connection? You told me you created Anakin. You used the Force to create life and he was the result. You created him - he was part of you. Your… your son.”

“He was flawed.” Palpatine dismissed without even a shade of regret, “His connection to the Force had been weakened.”

“He was still yours! A part of you! You can’t disown that connection, that bond.”

“I’ve told you before- one must be prepared to relinquish the past to own the future.”

For long seconds Luke stared, just stared at the Sith, completely beyond words…

Finally he nodded slowly, a veil of cool detachment dropping before those outraged eyes, features bathed blood-red by the saber’s glow, voice low and ragged and charged with derision.

“You’re right - you’re right, Master. I shouldn’t allow the past to influence present decisions- I shouldn’t tolerate any such hold on me… none at all. You want me to learn at my glorious Master’s feet? Then I do - I renounce you. I disown any link to you. Your claims of connection and heredity are nothing. They’re immaterial. You have no heir - you have no dynasty. Your reign ends today and by your own choice you’ll die alone and abandoned.”

Palpatine was outraged before the torrent of accusations and rejections, lashing out a derisive condemnation, “If only your power were equal to your ambitions- perhaps then you’d have the potential to take my Empire from me…”

“I don’t want your precious…”

“Then what is this?” Palpatine hissed, “You brought this fight to me- what is this if not ambition?”

The boy shook his head in disbelief, grief making him spit out the words before he’d even thought to censure them in the presence of his ever-perceptive Master “This is retribution.”

Palpatine found some part of his own composure at that obvious rush of emotion from the boy, the desolate despair that drove those words igniting a wide, goading grin. He saw a better weapon now to force a mistake and bring his charge down; Skywalker’s all-too-obvious obvious guilt at his father’s death.

“You blame me so completely but you surely knew that you were your father’s replacement, child. The instant you cowed your father in a duel you sealed his fate. You proved you were stronger… you knew that the moment I could control you as I controlled him he would become redundant.”

“But you don’t- ” Skywalker contested, wild, wounded eyes shadowed behind dark hair in the low light, “You don’t control me, not completely… you never did, you know that- so why kill him?”

“…Then you did understand-” The revelation set the Sith’s head to one side; cruel amusement at the boy’s pitiful weakness. “Is that why you struggled so? Always so unpredictable and erratic. Year after year, wilfully insubordinate - every time I thought I could trust you, every time I said as much… you went out of your way to disprove it, didn’t you? Did you believe you could buy his life for as long as you were disobedient- keep your father safe? Nothing could do that, child. I work to my own agenda, not yours.”

“Your agenda has signed your death warrant.” The boy vowed, “You set this in motion- you untied my hands!”

And there, with that incensed accusation, came to Palpatine the abrupt comprehension of what he had truly done. The act which he thought would be so containable - a punishment for disobeying his command, the guarantee that it could never be breached again…

In removing Vader, he had unwittingly removed every restraint.

In his confidence, Palpatine had never looked for ulterior motives, sure that his possession of the boy was absolute. He’d believed that it was his influence alone that had held sway- and perhaps for a time, when he’d first converted the boy, it had been. But the truth was that underlying Palpatine’s control, limiting the boy’s responses and shaping his actions, was that one fact; that his father was alive - and what was necessary to keep him so.

All control which the Emperor had held of Skywalker had been unknowingly dependant on that single fact… and now, he’d effectively removed that one overriding constraint.

“If you cut me down, you will make me more powerful than you could possibly imagine…”

Abruptly the Sith realised Vader’s cryptic words when he’d acknowledged his own fate earlier that day; that he’d known - had chosen to die. To give his son this freedom, this impetus, this driving need to finally act.

The need to act- to bring down Palpatine, as Palpatine had once brought his own Master down. Still panting from the last burst of exertion, the Sith gritted wasted teeth against the injustice of this situation - that Vader had finally out-manoeuvred his Master; had ultimately found the strength to break the bonds which had held him to grudging servitude for decades - and in doing so poisoned Palpatine’s protégé against him.

The dog which had cringed so long at its Master’s feet had finally found its teeth - and now the wolf smelled blood.

“You’re running out of time.” Skywalker stated, dropping his blade low in an invitation to attack, goading his opponent on.

Palpatine narrowed yellow eyes, unsure what the boy meant, and Skywalker smiled, the tip of his ruby blade weaving as he set in a slow circle about his old Master, remaining just out of range.

“Minutes- that’s what you taught, Master; experience versus endurance- a veteran duellist has just minutes to bring a duel with a younger opponent to an end, because if he can’t bring his challenger down quickly his advantage becomes his weakness. All those years of experience simply become all those years… you’re tiring and your opponent hasn’t even broken a sweat yet.” Luke grinned in open provocation; “Isn’t that what you said - the strongest wolf will lead the pack.”

“I said experience overcomes strength.” he corrected.

But the boy wouldn’t be intimidated; “And yet I’m still here - and you’re getting tired. So what do you need to beat experience and strength, Master? Because you have one minute left to find it.”

Palpatine gritted his teeth against the outrageous incitement, aware on some level that it was the truth; he knew he no longer had the boy’s speed or dexterity, so that after that first flurry of blows, a large portion of his attack had been aimed at avoiding a direct confrontation, looking instead for alternative means to bring the duel to a quick, decisive end.

Again the boy stopped, spinning his sabre one-handed so that the cowl of the hilt was against the heel of his hand and bringing it in tight to his back, the scarlet blade upright behind his body in an open invitation to attack. Palpatine hesitated, knowing the boy’s reflexes now; that he was not nearly as vulnerable as he appeared, his feet carefully placed, his shoulders already turned to give power to the imminent underhand strike; this was one of his favourite moves, to lure in and then lash out, his reflexes and dexterity equal to the task.

So Palpatine remained still, no counter to the invitation… and the boy grinned in provocation, his empty hand out before him, palm up, raising his eyebrows in unspoken question; afraid?

Palpatine bridled at that; almost set forward- almost walked in to the trap anyway, so incensed was he at the inference. But he caught himself; experience held him back, despite the blatant incitement.

Oh, he saw so much of himself in the boy….

And the boy had allowed it, he realized; encouraged it because it served his own ends- convinced Palpatine to see that connection with himself to the exclusion of any others… even Vader.

“You manipulative little creature.” he growled, incensed.

Skywalker only smiled, unoffended; “I learned from the best.”

The Emperor came forward at that, blade high, and the boy caught the blow, his blade travelling downward to his opponent’s hands. At the last second, Palpatine stepped forward, twisting his blade up and to the side as he did so, robbing Skywalker’s counter of any momentum and forcing him to backstep and disengage or allow the Sith inside his defences.

Palpatine pulled back grey lips in a half-smile, half-sneer, “The wise Master never teaches all that he knows.”

Skywalker grinned, unimpressed, “The wise pupil knows he should look further afield to complete his knowledge.”

“It won’t be enough to save you child, not now; not from me. It never was. You don’t have the power to stand against a Sith Master. I brought down a thousand Jedi at the height of their power- you think one more will test me? Or do you believe all those Jedi Masters who came before were lesser men than you, with lesser resolve? Do you truly think yourself above them all? What could you possibly have that they- ”

“Don’t waste your breath.” Luke bit out contemptuously, “These are old lessons long since learned. You’ve used them too often already, Master. Half the fight is in the head, isn’t that what you taught? If I’m committed to win - if I believe I will bring you down - then I’m half way there already. I know what I want and I know what I’m capable of. What you say - what you think - is immaterial; my wolves are gone, Master. The only thing which stands in my shadow now is you. Your wolf is right here- what did you call it… Darkness and destiny.”

“Oh, I know what you’re capable of,” Palpatine hissed, “Betrayal and lies. I know what you want- my power; my title… my Empire.

Skywalker shook his head, setting subtly forward again, hiding the advance behind a slow circling of his opponent. “You’re wrong - I don’t want your Empire Master; only you. But I’ll take it, because that’s the only thing you ever valued so that’s what will hurt you most. I really don’t care about your precious Empire… I simply want to hurt you. If you’d left me alone, I’d probably still be farming dust on that dried-up desolate little planet, but you couldn’t bear the thought that there might be someone out there with the potential to stop you. You came after me.”

“Vader pursued you-” Palpatine said, but the boy wasn’t willing to listen; to allow his convictions to be divided.

“You did this. You created me, not my father- You! You created your wolf- you fulfilled the vision. You made your own killer.”

“Liar! You want power.”

“No- I just want to take it from you. And when I do, when I hold your power and your position, I’ll dedicate it to one thing, Master. Because it’s not enough just to kill you. You destroyed my life - you cut it away slice after pitiless slice until Luke Skywalker was dead and gone - and I’m what’s left. I’m everything that you made me. Luke Skywalker would have killed you, but that’s not enough for me, not anymore- you taught me that. So when I take your power I’m going to dedicate it to removing every single trace that you ever existed. Every record, every image, every document, every statue. Everything. Within a decade you’ll be gone, like you never existed. And then I’ll take your ashes and I’ll scatter them to the winds…….. All that work, all your ambitions, your power, your precious Sith dynasty- all reduced to nothing. Dust in the wind. That’s what I want- ” he loosed a feral grin, mismatched eyes like ice and fire beneath long twists of wild hair. “Stop me if you can.”

Outraged, Palpatine threw out his hand and Luke sensed the pull in the Force, the danger running a cold warning down his spine, Palpatine’s fury imbuing incredible focus and power-

There was a grinding, wrenching ‘c-rack!’ high behind Luke, stone shearing from stone.

Luke didn’t turn- instead he focused on the substantial bulk of the incoming missile, one of the massive carved pillarheads, then reached out and took a solid Force-grip of his own, adding his own velocity, catapulting the substantial carved block onward with only the slightest change in its trajectory, crouching low as it surged past overhead so close that its leading edge rustled through his hair as he ducked.

Palpatine realised of course, but the combined momentum of two powerful wills was an incredible power to stop in the space of two strides, so that even as he threw out his hands to stop it, the massive section of marble pillar cannoned into hastily created shields, shattering outward, Luke maintaining that relentless momentum. Bracing, Palpatine was thrown back by the sheer force of the blow as the fighter-sized block of stone impacted his shields, skidding across the smooth floor in a flurry of red and raven robes.

Luke set grimly forward as the column of the missing pillar-head collapsed with ground-wrenching force behind him, the dust sheeting out about him in a wide cloud.

Mara walked with forced calm down the grand, deserted hallways toward the Throne Room, the Force buzzing all about her, grating through the air, slicing through her mind, setting her teeth on edge. This was no argument; no spirited clash or heated dispute- this was Darkness and it rolled through the cavernous hallways like a tidalwave, so that it took all that Mara was to simply walk; to hold her poise and composure, chest tight, muscles taught as she neared the rising storm. And every step closer made her heart beat faster, made her breath burn with adrenaline at the back of her throat.

If Luke had challenged Palpatine outright, there could be only one reaction; it wouldn’t be a return to the cells, it wouldn’t be chastisement or punishing reprisal- it would be a death sentence.

Her walk quickened pace to a jog, then an open run as desperation cut in, feet slipping on the polished marble floors, footfalls echoing in the empty halls.

When she rounded the final stairwell, taking the wide steps three at a time, the massive concourse was empty - no guards; nothing.

She raced forward to the massive arched entryway… and her heart sank, feet skidding to a halt of their own accord. Her eyes locked on the crumpled forms of the eight Red Guard laying before the closed doors, their bodies slumped against the walls where they fell- and she knew it was Luke. Knew what he intended.

Had he challenged Palpatine already? Was that what this was; a duel between Sith.

But Vader was dead, and she’d sensed no such upheaval then- not like this. Just a single burst, a flare of intense radiance, a release like the shock-wave of a detonation; a momentary rush, then nothing.

Not like this.

She glanced about, afraid that someone had seen the guards, that the alarm had been raised, but Palpatine had cancelled Court and the corridors were deserted, these levels out of bounds when Court was not in session.

Heart pounding, she set forward again at an unsteady walk, her legs trembling, the upheaval hammering at her mind, almost overwhelming at this proximity. Glancing up to the crushed security lens, she took her comlink in her hand and contacted Palace Security, stilling the tremble in her voice as she assured them that all was under control.

“What’s happening?” the tight voice asked, and Mara knew that the guards here must have been dead before they even fell; no time to sound the alarm. All Security knew was that they hadn’t checked in... now the only thing which was stopping them from sounding a general alert was her own status and security clearance.

“It’s an impromptu security assessment at the Emperor’s command; that’s why the Court was cancelled today- reaction times are being monitored and units tracked. You’re not one of those under scrutiny; you need to stand down and not influence the results.”

“We have two lenses down in you location…”

“That’s for the assessment- you needn’t do anything. They’ll be back up when we’re through. Clearance code is override Jade nine-three-five-nine, terra actual.”

It was so easy; so easy to use her reputation and her rank… Of course it was; she was beyond suspicion, absolutely loyal.

Absolutely loyal….

Stand down from any alarm, she’d assured, using override codes the Emperor himself had supplied. Was this treason? Probably. She didn’t care; if Palpatine lived to accuse her, it would be because Luke was dead…

There was a colossal spike in the Force making her flinch back, then a foreboding rumble of tremendous noise, the floor beneath her feet shuddering ominously.

Mara rushed forward, her hand reaching for the locked release at the centre of the door… and froze, unable to move, loyalties split between her master and her lover.

The outpouring of energy into the Force was a whirlwind now, incredible intensity, power drawn to power, wild and furious and dangerous and determined, all twisted through and bound up in each-other so closely that the individual sense of the two combatants within couldn’t be separated, lost in the surge.

And it terrified Mara.

She desperately wanted to enter, to run into the room… but then what - when she was inside, then what? Who would she help and who would she fail? Whose aid would she come to- who would she protect when the blade went to their throat?

What should she do… because she was at a loss- she had no idea; none at all.

A second rumble vibrated through her hands resting on the heavy doors and she felt her legs buckle, collapsing to her knees, her arms up about her head as if she could shut out the roiling turmoil, shut out the pain and the fear and the chaos in her head.

Just visible to Palpatine through the settling dust, Luke set forward over the scattered remnants of the immense pillarhead, the boulder-sized fragments slowing him as he climbed and jumped over them, intending to push home his advantage whilst it still remained, knowing that even this wouldn’t keep the Sith Master down for long.

Palpatine had deflected the massive chunk of stone at the last moment, its weight as it impacted against his shields compressing the air about him, pushing it from his lungs with incredible intensity, leaving him gasping as he fell, winded.

And the boy came forward without hesitation, without conscience; everything that Palpatine had desired of him, everything that he had worked so hard to create- the wolf, smelling blood on the air.

But he’d find no quick victory here- no easy prey; all he did was concentrate Palpatine’s resolve. The Sith staggered, trying to stand upright but falling again, Skywalker jumping onto a hip-high chunk fallen masonry, sabre lit-

Without hesitation Palpatine reached out, the Force twisting the boulder beneath his attacker, taking any foothold he had. Skywalker lurched back without loosing his balance, leaping clear to land solidly on the marble floor, steadying himself in seconds, already moving forward again.

Palpatine glanced down, hands to the ground as the boy came forward-

Luke braced, muscles tensing, knowing the Sith wasn’t nearly as vulnerable as he’d have Luke believe, searching for the snare-

Without warning, the weighty marble floor beneath his feet erupted up into rubble, the fissure throwing up razor-sharp fragments, following Luke’s footsteps as he stumbled back, Palpatine’s hand outstretched on the floor.

Unable to recover as the floor bucked wherever he placed his feet, Luke fell to one knee, saber held beside him as he sent out a single massive Force-pulse in every direction, the heavy rubble about him wrenching outward in a jolt of kinetic energy, Palpatine shying back from the surge, twisting away, arm before his face as finer debris was launched back.

Luke lurched up and forward, covering the distance in seconds, Palpatine igniting his blade as the boy came forward, staggering back at the fury of the first few blows.

They locked blades, each man pushing in, leaning into the live blades, faces lit by the sparking, incandescent glow of the scarlet sabres-

Abruptly Luke stepped forward and to the side, taking the risk of dropping his blade as he did so, the sudden release of counter-pressure on his blade sending Palpatine staggering forward a step as Luke twisted about, blade in his right hand to affect a swift backhand swipe as he came around, Palpatine half-jumping clear to avoid the unexpected blow.

He staggered back as the boy turned fully about, sabre still low. Palpatine twisted his blade in an infinity loop to hold him at bay- and the boy simply paused coolly beyond its range, neither provoked nor hesitant, allowing Palpatine the move, knowing he couldn’t sustain it.

And he was right; the Emperor brought his blade down and to the side and Skywalker set immediately forward. He was controlling the fight Palpatine knew, as he once had with Vader; always pressing in, closing distance and reaction time with short, fast blows, making Palpatine fight at close range where speed was everything; forcing the fight on his terms.

Too close; to agile, too fast to fight a fair fight.

Palpatine glanced about the vast chamber seeking other means, though the empty room held little to use against his rival.

No words now, no goading or validation. The fight had fallen to focused silence, all energy and attention given over to the duel, both combatants aware on some level that the end was near, one way or the other.

The boy came in with blade high, a massive blow with all the power of his arms and shoulders behind it, Palpatine drawing on the Force to absorb the impact, Skywalker using the counter-strength of the block to spin about and bring his blade in low, forcing Palpatine back. He caught Skywalker’s low blade, dragging it around in a big arc, forcing both men to spin about to break the hold, each coming back to face the other a half-step back; the boy set forward immediately, always closing that gap- but it was all the space Palpatine needed.

He reached out with the Force to the tall pillar behind himself, wise enough now to know better than to launch such an object from a direction the boy could use against him. A man-sized hunk of twisted, cable-reinforced stone pillar grated free at the top of the fluted column and launched past the Sith toward Luke.

All his momentum moving forward, Luke had no time to counter the substantial bulk of the incoming missile so planted his forward foot down, letting his rear knee buckle, one hand to the ground behind him before kicking off into a tight backflip as the immense chunk of masonry whistled by overhead, his knees lifting behind its rear edge as it skimmed past, Luke tucking neatly in to land a second after it passed, coming back up so quickly that his hair brushed the pillar’s trailing edge as he pulled upright, jerking his lightsaber up against the fast roundhouse blow which came in at stomach height, making Palpatine spring backward to gain enough momentum to counter the strike.

Both men staggered as the heavy pillar impacted behind them, dragging gouges into the marble floor, throwing up fine debris and dust as it ground to a halt with a reverberating resound which trembled through the building, neither noticing in the heat of the duel.

Already Palpatine was coming forward to push his advantage, but the boy was moving too, not a moment’s hesitation or protest. Unlike his duel with his father three years earlier, he let out no yells of outrage or frustration at his opponent’s reluctance to fight fairly, conveying only a grim determination, a fire in his eyes that Palpatine had never seen before-

Bringing his blade up and back in a one-handed defence Luke powered forward to meet Palpatine’s incoming blade, whipping his own about it and pushing it aside as he launched a heavy Force-blow to his Master’s side, the impact twisting Palpatine about in a staggering misstep, Luke’s bright ruby blade droning past Palpatine’s shoulder with unerring aim as he twitched away, the fabric of his gown momentarily lighting in a curl of smoke.

Palpatine broke off and to the side as Luke snapped his blade round for one more sniping blow at head-height, his Master heaving deep breaths in as Luke stalked slowly to the side, sabre still in one hand, sidestepping, searching for that opening…

Luke saw the momentary shadow which crossed his Master’s face and knew why, but if Palpatine chose not to fight honourably then Luke certainly felt no guilt at matching his Master - not any more, his mood twisting in frustration, both at Palpatine’s actions and at his own part in initiating them.

Because his Master was right about one thing; Luke had caused this fight- his own weaknesses, his compassion, the human frailties which Palpatine had tried so hard to cull from him and Luke had fought so long to hold on to as if they were some kind of asset, when in truth it was these self-indulgent flaws which had brought him here today.

Luke’s fault in allowing Mara even a fraction of the truth; in wanting her to do the right thing, in giving her the opportunity, the choice- in believing she would do it. His weakness. His craving for some kind of closeness, despite Palpatine’s warning.

His wish for a deeper kinship with his father, a commonality, despite all the risks. It was he who had allowed his father in, seeking some bond, he who had allowed Mara close because despite everything he wanted to trust her… yet another excuse; a way to abdicate responsibility. And he wouldn’t allow himself them anymore.

It was his weakness and not Mara’s which had caused his father’s death.

His weakness that had set all of this in motion. Had cost him so much and brought him to this.

His Master was right; compassion was a debilitating flaw yet he’d held to it like a prized possession when the truth was that it was a curse, nothing less. A weakness to be mastered.

Just like Palpatine- he too was a flaw Luke had allowed to fester; a drain on his energy and intentions. Another impediment he’d allowed himself to tolerate rather than remove. Well, no more;

No more weaknesses.

He reached out into the Force for the power he knew dwelled there, howling for recognition, baying to be used, eager to be summoned…

And took it.

Palpatine hesitated at the change that came over his Wolf as he stalked forward, scarred face etched now with grim intent, lightsaber low and to his side, eyes afire, glowing golden at their brink…

His left hand rose, outstretched, the action strangely familiar to Palpatine…

Bright actinic lightening flared for a moment about Skywalker’s hand then launched forward in a razor-barbed burst, lancing towards Palpatine, dazzling energy slicing into him in a fury of unrestrained power, seizing muscles, freezing lungs.

For a moment Palpatine caught the bolts, countered them- but they only intensified, breaking through barriers, overrunning defences as he wilted beneath the onslaught.

A massive, potent burst, then Skywalker’s hand jerked open, twisted as his amber-edged eyes turned down, the Force ripping Palpatine’s feet from under him, throwing him hard to the ground, stabbing strikes of brilliant, Force-powered energy into muscles with white-hot pain-

.

He could do it, Luke knew. He could kill him now; just maintain this for a little longer- sear flesh from muscle, burn muscle from bone, char bone to black, crumble it to ash. The Sith deserved no more. Let him know what this felt like! Luke had been on the receiving end of Palpatine’s fury often enough, had collapsed beneath it, craving unconsciousness as a respite from the pulsing, blistering, burning pain…

Abruptly, he broke off the attack, vivid memories lighting a lucid flare of horrified self-reproach.

No- not like this.

He took two staggering steps back as Palpatine gasped for breath, smoke curling from his singed clothes. Luke turned away, resolve faltering…

Still breathless, Palpatine glanced up, expecting to see the incoming blade… but the boy staggered back, pale blue eyes appalled as he curled his hand to a fist, lost in some inner battle.

Seeing him hesitate and realising his opportunity, the Sith lurched up, reaching out with the Force, searching any weapon-

The move was lightening-fast, the boy lost in thought, and Palpatine finally scored the blow he’d sought; the heavy, carved footrest which lay at the foot of his toppled throne yanked forward with incredible speed and power, impacting with a rewarding crack on the back of his opponent’s head-

Luke didn’t know what hit him; he only saw a bright flash then stars exploded in his vision as his legs collapsed beneath him and he dropped to his knees, some distant voice within him chiding his own inattention beneath that burst of undeserved compassion, sight and sound fading to the encroaching blackness;

Don’t pass out…. Don’t pass out!

His hand went to the floor to steady himself as he sensed Palpatine step grimly forward, reality reduced to a slow loop of nauseating gravity which dragged awareness ever slower-

Don’t pass out…

He drew the Force to him, giving him the power to lurch unsteadily up and back as Palpatine rushed in, Luke still staggering from the blow as he brought his sabre up in weak defence, head spinning, vision blurred.

The Emperor’s pale hand rose, spindly fingers splayed, and the hasty Force-strike came like a body-blow to the centre of Luke’s chest, making him stumble back, breath knocked from his lungs in a scarlet-spattered gasp.

Palpatine brought his sabre up and forward in a lunging stab and Luke barely batted it aside with no retaliation, no reciprocating blow; he only staggered further back, tripping unsteadily over unseen debris, arm out to steady himself as he struggled to recover, the Emperor sidestepping and disappearing from his still-narrowed vision, blade raising high to deliver another blow.

Luke backed up, still dazed, struggling for breath, heart pounding loud in his ears-

The back of his hip bumped against something and he realised he’d backstepped all the way to the raised dais, automatically putting it to his side, aware on some level that to do so would reduce Palpatine’s field of play, keep him trapped in Luke’s limited line of sight. It cut down his own manoeuvrability but at this point that wasn’t even a concern- his main consideration was simply staying upright.

Don’t pass out- not now, after all this- after all these years, don’t pass your one chance up…

Anger and frustration welled up inside him at that and the Darkness answered, pumping fresh power to trembling limbs, sending blood and oxygen rushing round his body and he clung to it- to the power it gave.

He wouldn’t let him win; he wouldn’t let the black-hearted Sith steal this. He’d stop him; no matter what the cost - if it was his own life, he’d stop him.

He swayed uneasily, chest heaving, giving ground as Palpatine came forward along one side of the dais, aware that he was being backed into one of the tall, heavy, metalwork screens which divided the cavernous space; using the Force he reached out behind him and yanked the massive screen back against its mechanism with a screeching wrench, giving him the clearance to stumble into the room beyond.

As Palpatine closed Luke slammed the massive screen shut, forcing the Sith to take a hasty step back to avoid being hit by the heavy slab of floor-to-ceiling metal. On impulse Luke lunged blindly forward again, sabre before him, the blade cutting effortlessly through the precious-metal screen until the tip of his hilt hit the white-hot surface, and was rewarded with a half-yell from behind the screen.

Knowing better than to remain where he was, Luke dropped down, one hand to the ground, pulling his saber back and rolling away as he did so, mind and vision clearing. An instant later Palpatine’s saber blazed through the screen above Luke exactly where he had stood, the scarlet blade cutting a narrow horizontal slash through screen as Palpatine Force-yanked it back a half-second later and lunged forward into the ante-room.

Luke’s mind raced, adrenaline giving incredible clarity, the brief moment’s respite offering realization- a plan… and it had to be now-

Muscles bunching, he powered up, staggering back to the other screen, reaching out with the Force to get a solid grip and dragging it open as he rushed back through into the main chamber, slamming it shut as Palpatine stalked through the first screen and into the small ante-room, giving Luke valuable seconds unseen in the main chamber.

He set forward to the dais at a half-run, eyes glancing about it as he reached out his hand…

Palpatine dragged the second screen aside with a yell, setting purposely forward, his limp pronounced, ochre eyes scanning the massive, debris-littered Throne Room. Skywalker turned about from his run toward the dais, seeking room to manoeuvre, backstepping across the cream marble of the inset floor from the old Jedi Council Chamber so he did so, the shattered remnants of Palpatine’s precious Sunburst Throne scattered about the dais, the dying embers of the day bleeding over the beaten golden sun as it lay on the pale cream of the wide circular marble inlay, like twin suns setting…

The Sith launched forward at a broken run, Skywalker giving ground against the onslaught, a flurry of bright scarlet blades, a wall of incandescent light weaving through the air, each looking for the advantage, completely focused, unyielding, each blow laid with flawless precision, each counter leading to an attack, the pace implacable now, the intensity decisive, each attack pushing home, forcing a mistake-

It was Skywalker who faltered; stumbled, the momentary lapse bringing his blade up a fraction too late, giving Palpatine the impetus to catch the one-handed blow rather than block it and enabling him to hook Vader’s lightsaber away from the boy, sending it clattering back across the Throne Room floor, Skywalker’s empty hand still reaching after it as he turned side-on, twisting back, eyes wide, to face his foe empty-handed-

“Where are your reflexes now, boy…” Palpatine grinned, voice triumphant as he brought his own blade back one-handed in a wide, open arc to deliver the killing blow-

“Where’s your experience… Master?” the boy hissed derisively.

The moment- the instant the words left Skywalker’s mouth, Palpatine knew what he’d done, recognized his error; that he had been played, encouraged by his opponent’s helplessness to make a grand gesture, leaving himself open a fraction too long-

Palpatine twisted his wrist, brought his scarlet blade about and in-

But he wasn’t nearly fast enough; Skywalker’s arm came from behind his back with devastating speed-

In his hand was his own lightsaber, recovered from the dais where he had abandoned it at the duel’s start, the blade still activating as he brought it up with the speed of a whiplash, batting Plpatine's blade back, already inside his defences-

The perfect deception, flawlessly executed, any chance of a hasty defence squandered by Palpatine in the belief that his foe was unarmed.

No fair fight here after all - only the desire to win. Perhaps they were more similar than either realised…

Skywalker’s saber closed on Palpatine’s throat, his father’s lost blade returning in that same moment to his outstretched hand, the two blades meeting in a scissor action-

“STOP!!” Palpatine poured five long years of merciless control into that single word.

Stupidly- stupidly- Luke hesitated, unable to withstand the intensity in his Master’s command. He faltered, the moment’s dark clarity lost, intent wavering… and the Sith saw it.

“You always hesitated, Jedi. You always doubted yourself.” Palpatine wheedled, voice hypnotic, yellow eyes shifting from genuine fear to a self-assured composure. He shook his head in mock pity, grating voice dismissive and amused, “I didn’t make you- you made yourself with your own insecurities and fears. I warned you to hold them in check or your enemies would use them against you…”

A small wisp of smoke curled up past the edge of Luke’s vision, daunting in its implications-

Realising, he glanced down… below the bright radiance of the two scarlet sabres in his hands was the incandescent glow of a third-

And Luke heard the goading triumph in his Master’s voice; “How much do you want me dead, my little Sith?”

Luke’s hesitation at his Master’s words had created the opportunity for him to slowly bring his own blade about, level with Luke’s stomach, the tip now inches away from his skin, burning a fine hole in the fabric of his shirt-

Palpatine kept those sulphurous yellow eyes steady on Luke, “… Enough to kill yourself for the opportunity?” The slightest of deprecating grins pulled thin, bloodless lips back from spoiled yellow teeth; the boy had hesitated too long… he’d won again. The Sith shook his head slowly, voice malicious and mocking, “I think not.”

Luke remained frozen, seeing exactly every nuance of emotion as it passed over his Master’s decrepit features, mismatched blue eyes remaining locked on spiteful yellow-flecked ochre….

This was the price…this was the price to end his Master’s reign - because if he truly wanted to end it then to kill Palpatine wasn’t enough. His precious Sith Dynasty would continue, he had already ensured that….

Luke blinked slowly, a strange, detached calm flowing through him, buzzing in his ears.

Time slowed about him, his heartbeat dragging…

Abruptly he remembered Bespin- remembered this same pacific peace settling so benignly about him as he’d stood, resolute, at the edge of the instrument vane, no-where left to go…

No-where left to go.

This was the price… and he was willing to pay.

He held his eye on the end goal, unflinching and composed, committed to the action.

The tranquil stillness which bled through him was like a deep breath of warm air, gifting acceptance and serenity, the ability to move forward. The slightest of smiles twitched at the corners of his scarred lips as Luke stared at his Master for long seconds… but he would not blink-

Mismatched blue eyes hardened, defiant…. and he watched that heinous grin fall from his Master’s face-

In that last second, Palpatine saw the commitment in those wild eyes-

He retreated, stumbled back a step, saber out before him at his Jedi’s stomach-

.
…The stubbornness which was a strength…
Death… he heard the grating drone of the blades- scarlet red, the colour of blood and betrayal…
…the hiss of superheated light….
.

Luke lunged forward into Palpatine’s blade, embedding it front to back through his own body, jerking at the bite, pulling the crossed sabers in his hands open as he did so, the scissored blades slicing effortlessly through flesh and bone-

The Sith’s decapitated body fell away before him, Luke remaining upright for a few seconds more as Palpatine’s blade tugged free from his body, bringing Luke crumpling to his knees.

In the next instant, a backwash of power exploded out from the dead Sith’s corpse- Darkness and fury and fear released, the energy impacting on Luke as he gasped against it, wrenched backwards by the force, unable to do more in that moment than simply endure it.

When he opened his eyes, aware again, he was crumpled against the far wall, still somehow upright but knelt down awkwardly, sat on his heels, arms wrapped about his stomach against the fire which burned deep there.

In the absolute silence, he listened to his own laboured breathing for a long time…

He wondered if he could stand, realised that he couldn’t, recognized that he was sagging down now, falling deeper into the utter silence, reality becoming an ever more distant whisper as his body began to fail.

Momentarily he panicked, looking about him… holding out his hand, he called his father’s lightsaber to him across the dust-strewn floor and tried unsuccessfully to pick it up, hands incredibly weak.

Instead, he rested his palm on it, the searing fire in his stomach expanding outwards now, weakness toppling him over onto his side, the shattered room twisting dizzily about him. His eyes fluttered, lungs burning against laboured breaths, simply breathing becoming an impossible task, chest heaving air in short, shallow breaths, no oxygen left, like suffocating- like drowning in deep water.

He let out a gasping sigh and whispered her name - in that moment nothing else mattered; neither betrayal nor blame. All he wanted was to touch her sense again, to touch that radiant red hair, soft as silk and bright as glowing flame; “Mara….”

And the world faded away….

Knelt outside the doors, slumped on the floor, Mara buried her head in her hands until the roaring tornado of power drawn from the Force fell to ominous stillness, leaving her sure they were both dead…

She sat and sobbed into the void, the silence absolute.

His voice speaking her name issued from nowhere and everywhere, no more than a broken whisper, his sense fading to darkness.

She dragged herself upright, tears blurring her vision so that she clawed blindly at the lock, rushing in, desperate hope thrown out against all belief, convinced they were both dead.

Palpatine’s decapitated body lay in the centre of the pale cream marble, a burst of grimy destruction radiating out about it in the devastated room, his precious, prophetic throne toppled beside him. She walked no closer, searching the dust-laden gloom, desperate and desolate, afraid to see-

Little more than a crumpled shadow in the all-pervading darkness, Luke lay slumped on his side, ashen white and deathly still.

Mara stumbled forward, tears blurring her vision, breath frozen in her lungs, caught in a lockjam at the back of her throat… then she was on her knees beside him, reaching out tentatively to touch his face…

The relief was a physical release so intense she felt the blood drain from her head, leaving her dizzy and faint.

He’s alive… he’s alive!!

She stroked his hair and cried all over again, the emotion spilling out of her, unstoppable, fear and hope and disbelief and loss and longing, too much to possibly process. All she could do was stroke his hair and whisper to that distant sense, growing ever paler.

He wouldn’t die- he wouldn’t. She wouldn’t let him. He was everything she needed- everything this whole sad, lost, battered galaxy needed…

He couldn’t die. Not after all this…

She swiped the tears away with the heel of her hand as years of indoctrination cut through the shock and the absolute calm of a trained soldier kicked in once again.
Pulling herself together with a long, trembling sigh, she lifted her comlink from the floor where it had fallen unheeded.

Her voice back under complete control, she commed Reece, “The Heir requires your presence immediately, Reece- and that of Hallin. In the Throne Room.”

“The Throne Room?” She could hear his nervousness - how much did he already know? “Court isn’t in session today, Commander Jade- and.. I was under the impression that The Heir had not yet returned from Mosiin Barracks.”

“He arrived a short time ago… for a critical meeting regarding command structure.” Would he understand?

There was a long pause… “Will the Emperor be attending?”

Mara sighed just slightly, understanding the question, “The Emperor is.. no longer here.”

Again Reece paused, clearly as unwilling to speak on an open channel as Mara, but recognising the necessity, “ Hallin’s attendance is…”

“Crucial.” Mara said.

She switched off the comm, knowing Reece would already be on his way. She had an Empire to secure.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

In the event, Mara had very little to do; everything was apparently already in place, and it was Reece in the Palace and Admiral Joss onboard the Patriot who moved everything forward with the kind of planning and precision which had clearly been months if not years in the making.
She was in fact, politely but firmly excluded; sidelined - advised that she would be of most value staying with The Heir and keeping Reece updated on his condition - and even that tentative, since by the time they arrived by back corridors and covert passageways at Hallin’s dedicated medi-center, a group of ten plain-clothes men, all obviously military but none of whom Mara recognised, were waiting outside the surgery by Reece’s command, appointed as The Heir’s new bodyguards.

So it came as no surprise to Mara when Reece was already waiting in the recovery room by the time Luke left surgery; thoughts only on Luke, she hadn’t contacted Reece yet, but there were clearly several others who had.

Members of the 701st, easily recognised by the dark blue pauldron on the shoulder of their white armour, were scattered about the area now, concealed just inside the medi-center doors out of sight of casual passers-by, the ten plain-clothes bodyguards doing their best to look inconspicuous in the corridor beyond.

How many more were in the Palace, Mara wondered, already smuggled down from the Patriot in orbit? How many more were ready to move at a moment’s notice; how many had already responded to coded messages?

She stepped quickly forward as Luke was moved from the gurney onto a high-dependency bed, eyes and thoughts instantly on him. Deathly pale, covered with cuts and bruises, still connected up to life-support following surgery, he looked terrifyingly fragile.

“Well?” Reece asked tightly as Hallin activated the scanning monitors over the bed.

“Well he’s just had five hours of surgery.” the medic said distractedly, eyes locked on the readouts. “There is, not surprisingly, very little information available on how to treat lightsaber wounds.”

“Surely they’re similar to any laser wounds.” Mara prompted, making Hallin glance up at her momentarily.

“You’d think, wouldn’t you?” he said, voice dripping with patronizing sarcasm. He wasn’t a shy man at the best of times, and had great faith in his own medical abilities- fortunately he was right. “The wound left an sloping exit high enough to puncture his left lung, introducing air into the chest cavity every time he drew breath, filling the cavity in which the lungs normally expanded and restricting lung capacity; he was suffocating with every breath-”

“Nathan,” Reece cut through the irrelevant explanation, greater things on his mind. “I need to know whether to send the transmission out.”

Hallin sighed, turning back to the unconscious man, “I really can’t tell you at this point.”

Mara frowned, “What transmission?”

Both men ignored her, “That’s not good enough. I need an answer.”

“I can’t give you one. He has severe abdominal trauma- I’ve just packed a hole through his stomach which ran front to back, patched his lung back together and directed three surgical droids tying up the loose ends for the last two hours. I have no models for this kind of surgery- the only remaining information is kept by the Emperor’s medical staff and I think they’d be understandably reluctant to part with it, don’t you?”

“So there is information available? If I sent a team over there now…”

Hallin shook his head, “And tell them what? You’d never contain that kind of information request- they wouldn’t release it without Palpatine’s express permission and even if they were willing, I’d bet it’s code-restricted to Palpatine, Pestage, Amedda and a few others, and when you couldn’t get that code people would start asking questions. You may as well announce to the whole galaxy that the Emperor is dead and The Heir - the only person capable of standing against him - is seriously wounded. It’s hardly a stretch to put that information together and come up with the logical conclusion, Wez.”

Mara glanced at Reece, “Is that so important? You’ll have to announce the Emperor’s death anyway.”

“But it’s hardly the time to let slip that his Heir is seriously injured.” Reece said in agreement with Hallin, “The information would be unstoppable; it would be out of the Palace within minutes- we’ll be lucky to contain it as it is.”

“We can protect him.” Mara stated, very sure.

“No.” Reece said decisively, looking to Hallin. “We stick to the plan. Nothing changes until we have two loyal Super Star Destroyers and four Destroyers in orbit and at least two thirds of the 701st in position- as well as all key supporters. The codes have gone out - the Patriot’s presently in orbit and the, the Dauntless, the Executor, the Peerless and the Avenger have already responded - I need nineteen hours to implement everything. We put out the announcements based on that schedule and we ease this in as planned. Which means I have to know his prognosis- I can’t very well start disseminating images of The Heir assuring that everything is under control only to have everyone find out that he died two hours previously.”

Mara frowned, “What images?”

Reece ignored her, attention on Hallin, “So I need assurance.”

“I can’t give it!” Hallin hissed, “You’re asking me to give guarantees which I’m not in a position to know.”

Mara took a step back, outraged by the surreal image of Luke’s two most trusted advisors arguing over his unconscious body about whether or not he was going to make it through the next few hours- not out of concern, but on the grounds that they needed to manage the HoloNet.

“What the hell are you doing!? Listen to yourselves- listen to what you’re saying!”

Both men turned, but it was Reece who found his voice first.

“I’m doing what The Heir charged me to do, Commander Jade- I’m stabilising an Empire which could very well descend into anarchy and civil war if there’s the slightest indication of vulnerability.” Reece paused pointedly before stating frostily. “The Heir had a rare clarity of vision in such things; he placed the greater good before himself.”

Hallin narrowed his own eyes at that; it sounded a little too close to a eulogy. “He’s not dead yet.” he pointed out.

Reece brought his face back to the medic, eyebrows raised expectantly. Hallin glanced back down to his patient, then pursed his lips determinedly, “He’ll survive. He’s young and he’s strong and he’s made it through far worse than this.”

“Thank-you, Nathan.” Reece said emphatically, and Mara felt everyone’s temper calm a little at the medic’s assurance, the burst of adrenaline-laced tension which had been building since Luke had arrived here finally burned away in the brief dispute.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have a very long day ahead.” Reece paused at the door to add pointedly; “And incidentally, I spoke in error- he’s no longer The Heir.”

Lightyears away, the Rebel Flagship Home-One maintained a synchronous orbit around Yaga Minor, just clearing the dark side of the planet’s shadow, the sharp light of a new dawn creeping in through the viewport and dusting the surfaces with soft shadows.

Leia abruptly sat bolt-upright in bed, eyes wide; “No!!” she shouted into the night, arms out before her to… what? Protect… something- someone. Pull them back from…

Han turned, his voice muffled by the pillow he still clung to. “Hmmm?”

“What?” she asked in reply, blinking awake, the chilling nightmare already fading from reach.

“What d’you say sweetheart?” he murmured; it took a herd of Bantha stampeding through the room to wake Han.

Leia froze in the cold starlight, a sheen of sweat on her body, making her shiver in the chill room; dreams… broken fragments of intense memories burst into waking thoughts, more emotions than images, but terrifyingly real; danger and violence and reckless, abandoned fury. Like a stormfront, wild and tempestuous, unstoppable, relentless…

And somehow… inevitable. The storm had been so long coming, she realised; a dark, roiling shadow on the horizon. Gathering momentum, drawing ever closer, like a change in air pressure, like ions charging. Ever more volatile, immense and momentous…

She frowned, heart still beating staccato against her ribs, arms wrapped about the burning prickle in her stomach, mind racing, chasing down that nebulous feeling; knowing only one thing but knowing it absolutely…

“Something’s happened.” she murmured; she’d never been more sure of anything in her entire life.

Mara stepped out onto the wide balcony, taking in huge gulps of fresh air, sharp with the first frost of the turning season. The sun rose slowly over the city, freezing mist caught in the avenues between the tall buildings, not yet burned off by the wan warmth of daylight - a new day dawning.

A new day dawning on a new Empire- though nobody knew it yet. The first shards of light stretched to touch the highest towers of the Palace, their edges given clarity by the mist.

A new Empire… one without the Emperor. Only there was an Emperor.

And he was struggling for his life in the medi-centre behind Mara.

She should have known… she had known. She’d just never been able to admit it even to herself. She’d known that first time, when he’d destroyed the transparisteel-reinforced windows in the opulent prison that had been designed by the Emperor specifically to hold his new Jedi. Because that prison had been built to hold someone whose powers were equal to Palpatine’s…

And he’d still destroyed it- shattered it to dust and rubble.

Not only that, but he’d done so for his own reasons. Reasons that he’d hidden completely - not just from Mara and Vader but most importantly, from Palpatine. She should have known then; he’d never hold his precious Wolf. At the very best, he’d keep it at bay for a while.

His Wolf…

Abruptly, like a veil falling away, recognition of why Palpatine had given Luke that name burst into Mara’s memory- the vision! The vision from the night Luke had shattered the reinforced window flooded back into her mind - the first night she’d seen him use the Force.

The vision of the twin suns, of the blood-red moon… of the black wolf running through the shadows, claws to stone, breath misting in the moonlight, hunting…

Her master had asked her what it hunted and in that instant the vision had left her, not a single impression remaining, melting to nothing like the wolf in the shadows… But Palpatine had seen it too, the vision of the wolf; she knew from the look in his eyes when she said it, from the tone in his voice- he’d seen the vision many times.

But he couldn’t see the wolf for what it was - or wilfully refused to. He saw only power and potential and thought he could hold it; thought he could bind it and dictate and possess. So he’d hunted down the wolf. He’d claimed it and named it… but the truth was he’d never tamed it - it remained always the same feral creature, wild and ungovernable, and the more he pulled at the leash the more it bared its teeth…

It was fitting really, Mara reflected numbly; that Palpatine had lost his Empire in very much the same way that he had created it- by force, in a blaze of passionate fury, all twisted through with Vader and Skywalker’s line and her master’s precious prophesies, Sith and Jedi both.

And now the sun was dawning on a new Empire… and a new Emperor…

And as much as she liked to think that she knew him, Mara realised now that she had absolutely no idea - none whatsoever - what this new Empire would be.

As she considered this, she heard quiet footsteps close behind her and turned to see Hallin approaching.

“I… apologise for our behaviour earlier, Commander Jade- we’re all a little… stressed right now. You’re not really seeing us at our best.”

“On the contrary,” Mara observed, “I think I’m finally seeing just that. And a lot more besides.”

She glance sideways at the slender medic as he stepped forward to lean on the heavy stone balustrade beside her, rubbing at eyes made tired by hours of close surgery. “So how long has all this been on the cards?” she asked, never one to prevaricate.

Hallin hesitated, glancing down to pick at the stone, so it was left to Mara to fill the uneasy silence, “I’m not blind, Hallin; everything was already in place- there were codes, lines of contact, pre-ordained procedures. Reece already has something to put out over the HoloNet for crying out loud.” Despite her words, her voice was subdued and calm- surprisingly so, even to herself.

“You have to understand, Mara, he would have never acted unless he felt that it was in the greater good.”

Mara remained silent, and eventually Hallin sighed, squinting into the dawn sun, the autumnal air still cold enough to mist his breath.

“It was to have been a staged take-over,” the medic allowed at last, “The military first, though he’d begun making headways into Court and the Royal Houses. He has the tacit support of over half of the Moffs and Fleet Admirals, plus Destroyer and Frigate Captains- another year and he would have held the military; they would have followed him, even over Palpatine’s direct order.”

Mara shook her head, “No- the Emp…” she floundered, suddenly unsure of what to say, “Palpatine deliberately split up the fleet. Neither Commander in Chief had access to the other fleet- it gave Palpatine the edge if even a large percentage of either fleet became… mutinous.”

“But he made the mistake of interchanging high-ranking officers among the two fleets in order to place those he trusted in key positions…”

“Those he trusted.” Mara underlined, but Hallin was shaking his head gently.

“They may well have been loyal, but their old station had to be filled and with so many of the rank-and-file officers loyal to Luke, never having even met the Emperor, in actuality all it did was to spread the dissent. Remember, Luke has traveled with the Fleet almost constantly; he’s conceived very much as a military leader. Most of the recruiting which Luke did was among mid-class officers which he would then quietly contrive to maneuver into higher ranks. By the time they came to command, they were already loyal to him.”

Mara nodded, realizing, remembering the number of younger officers in the Core Fleet, remembering noting the gradual change in attitude it had seemed to usher in - she’d been looking right at it! “And they came to power quite quickly, didn’t they?”

“He never removed an officer simply because they weren’t loyal to him, if that’s what you’re saying, though he moved them around to ensure an even spread of loyal officers” Even at her accusation, the ever-loyal Hallin was muted in his tone, quietly insistent rather than his usual argumentative self, clearly feeling the need to explain but not wishing to argue. “Those whom he eliminated were spies. Palpatine knew when he placed them within The Heir’s staff that they would be found and removed.”

“So the fault was the Emperor’s, is that what you’re saying?”

“No, Commander. I suppose I’m saying that we all do what we must to remain safe.”

“Apparently he was right to place them.” Mara sniped, though there was no real heart in it, and they both fell to contemplative silence, watching the new day creep into being. Eventually Mara shook her head, “He shouldn’t have given Luke free passage into the Outer Rim.”

“No.” Hallin agreed quietly. It had advanced all their plans so much; had made them ready where otherwise they may have floundered this soon.

Mara still scowled at the sunrise, “But I watched him so carefully… I know that the incoming officers and personnel on Project Redress weren’t particularly known to him.”

“He knew you were watching.” Hallin said simply. Now, with all the risks and duplicity done and Luke still here, he felt strangely sorry for her, caught between torn loyalties and values, struggling to come to terms with the changes she had at once desperately desired and dreaded. It softened his voice, this comprehension, old enmities forgotten behind the realization that she was as trapped as he was on this rollercoaster ride. And it had been, in the end, her comm that had saved Luke when she could so easily have stood and watched him die, knowing what he’d done to Palpatine. Or simply walked away; safeguarded her own future and been long gone before the truth was out.
But despite all Hallin’s reservations she’d come through; called for help from the few whom she knew would be loyal- and he had to respect her for that. So she deserved some kind of explanation.

“But he was still using the project to hide the movement of officers and units of the 701st around between the two Fleets, and to advance those mid-level officers into positions of power when their seniors were required on Project Redress. He was also breaking up perceived hot-spots of entrenched officers loyal to the Emperor, splitting them up and moving them around ostensibly to cover the vacant posts. Everyone was looking at who he brought in, so he always brought the right specialists for the job… but no-one checked who replaced them in the Fleet, or where they were returned to. And it was possible to hide a percentage of loyal mid-level Core Fleet officers in the turnover and have them bled back out into both fleets, Core and Rim. Then he need only supply his father with the names of those who he wished to see advance in the Rim Fleet. The turnover of personnel was expected to be massive in order to complete a project of that size, especially when he was supposedly ramping up construction.”

“All the while he was routing loyal personnel into positions of power- building his own private little army.” Right under her nose. She’d been charged to watch who he tried to make contact with, where he went, when he spoke to the high-ranking staff he appointed to the station, courting their loyalty- it had never even occurred to her to look too closely at where they came from or who replaced them.

But of course he never showed the slightest interest in the station- never went much further than the management offices when he was there, dividing his time between them and his office on the Patriot. They always seemed a hive of activity based on the figures and the charts, personnel and ordnance streaming through… and he spent so long with the Ops officers when he was there - mid-level officers he’d placed, people he trusted to carry out his orders to the letter - having reams of information sent up to his office on the Patriot, reading through and correcting and reassigning and checking… she’d actually been in the room when he’d done it! Watched him sign off whole groups of personnel, splitting them up to re-integrate them back into the Fleets- using the whole masive project as a glorified staging house to disseminate pre-existing militia.

She’d been watching the shadows and he’d been working in the plain light of day.

“And Project Redress?” she finally asked, sure now that Luke wouldn’t have handed it back over to the Emperor as completely as it would seem.

“He had someone in mind.” Hallin allowed, “From the Rim fleet. But he’d not set that in motion yet. We… thought we had time – another year at least – this is all rather premature.”

An empty laugh came to Mara’s lips, “You even had a deadline.” She should be angry, outraged, as she had been yesterday morning… was it only yesterday? But the passion was spent, only a numb weariness remaining, relief blunting her guilt… and the realization that if it had to happen, the truth was that this was the outcome she would have wanted.

“Not so much a deadline as a direction. “ Hallin admitted, “We have, I think, a very interesting year ahead of us.”

Mara turned sharply, “You know what he’s going to do?”

Hallin shrugged, “I don’t think anybody quite knows what Luke’s going to do, as yesterday evidenced. But I have a good idea… and faith.”

She turned slowly, watching the dawn light over a new Empire.

“And you Commander- what will you do now?” Hallin asked quietly, his words carrying far greater import than he realized, Mara knew.

“I guess that depends on Luke.” she said neutrally, aware that her access to him may be quickly curtailed if they knew the truth. Luke hadn’t yet regained consciousness so no-one knew all the facts- that her actions had instigated this; her betrayal.

Only yesterday, he had stood on the landing platform and told her that his fate was in her hands… in the turn of one day, she was intensely aware that the opposite was now true.

She sighed, pushing the thought away, unable to even consider it yet. “What will you do?”

Hallin shrugged, picking at the balustrade again, “I suppose we have a coronation to organise.” He laughed disbelievingly, “Is it called a coronation with an Emperor? I have no idea.”

“You’d better learn, Hallin.” Mara said, wondering if he realized just how much everything was about to change, “Because that man back there is about to step center-stage… and you know as well as I do that it’s not where he wants to be. I can guarantee that 'very interesting year' of yours will start the moment he wakes up.”

In the event everything went smooth as glass, the carefully-arranged annexing surprising Mara in its orderly execution… and its extent. In a calculated act of assured standing, the military were the first to officially know, emphasis being placed on securing and stabilising the Empire when the news was made public, and of the military’s reassuringly significant role in this.

As such, the subtle insinuation of continued status assured that there was the barest ripple in the military, such was his support, and though there was an uneasy murmur through Court and the Royal Houses, those who had supported Skywalker now came quickly to the fore, knowing their day had come and that they had a vested interest in making the turnover as smooth - and as permanent – as possible.

One of the major houses supporting the new Emperor with applied zeal, Reece noted, was the D’Arca’s, Lady Kiria’s standing bolstered significantly by her whispered association with Reece. They’d already requested a private audience, and based on the quick glance Reece had glimpsed of the notes on Reece’s automemo before he’d blanked the screen, it seemed that they were high in line when such things became possible again.

All members of the Red Guard were quietly reassigned in small groups to outlying barracks within ten hours of the Emperor’s death, to be replaced by members of the 701st and the 501st shipped down from the orbiting Patriot and the returned Executor, Reece wishing to take no chances though there had pointedly been no allusion that Palpatine’s death was anything other than natural when it was finally confirmed.

Regular announcements were released over the HoloNet for the next two weeks, accompanied by three short pre-recorded pieces from the new Emperor assuring that everything was in hand.

No-one knew of course that the images were pre-recorded, and every effort was made to keep it that way; they’d been shot against a plain, dark backdrop with no clue as to where it was, carefully-chosen words always spoken in the present tense, just vague enough to cover any circumstance, referring to the need for calm during this transition; for solidarity. But hinting at more; a new age, an opportunity to be grasped, the potential for reform.

The inauguration was planned in minute detail, the date set for fifteen days after the announcement of Palpatine's death- purportedly to give dignitaries a chance to get to Coruscant, in actual fact it was to give Luke a chance to recover – and for extensive repairs to the Throne Room in preparation, Reece insisting that the ceremony should be there.

Seven days before the ceremony, Luke flew to the Emperor’s Hunting Estates on Issig peninsula. What remained of his father’s body was cremated there. It was little, but then that wasn’t the point, Mara knew; it was a way to say goodbye- to lay his father to rest with some dignity, something which he knew would not have happened without his involvement.

He was the only one to attend, the funeral not announced; even those close to Luke were not encouraged, so that in the event his final moments with his father were much the same way that they had always conducted their association; privately, whatever words spoken remaining between them alone. As much a mystery to Mara as the whole of his ambiguous, explosive relationship with the man he both loved and hated.

Still too weak to stand for more than a few minutes – a fact that was being very carefully hidden from prying eyes – he sat in sombre silence and watched the pyre burn, face neutral, gaze lost in the flames.

Both Mara and Hallin remained at a discrete distance throughout, knowing they should go no closer but somehow wishing to be there, aware of his grief without understanding or sharing it.

“He used him.” Mara murmured at last of the limits of Vader’s relationship to his own son, unable to hide her dislike, incensed at the injustice of it all.

“He knows that.” Hallin said of Luke, bringing Mara’s green eyes to him. The medic shrugged, his attention remaining on the lonely, melancholy, scene. “Some ties are deeper.” he murmured simply, offering no more.

Mara turned back to the solitary figure, “I couldn’t forgive.” she said, very sure.

“It’s a rare thing, the wilful determination to look beyond the obvious.” Hallin said, turning to leave his friend in peace. Before he did so he paused to look pointedly back at Mara, though his voice held no censure when he spoke, “I would have thought you of all people would appreciate his ability to do that.”

Mara stared at his back as he walked calmly away, her mind racing- did he know?

She’d tried several times to explain to Luke her unwilling part in the events which had led up to the death of his father and his own fateful duel with his Master, hoping to apologise; to be, if not forgiven then at least understood. But always Luke had made it crystal clear that he didn’t wish her to elaborate; didn’t want to discuss it in any way, always avoiding or curtailing it, never allowing her to continue.

She told herself that perhaps he wasn’t ready yet, the events too fresh to talk about.
She told herself that he'd always known that it was inevitable. That those events had been destined to happen one way or another from the first moment Luke had stood before the Emperor, dragged there by his own father, three very different wills and intentions in play, all of them stubbornly intractable and uniquely incomparably gifted.
She told herself that he knew firsthand what Palpatine was like; how manipulative and underhand. Told herself that he knew only too well how quickly events rushed beyond your control when he turned on you. That he knew he too had to take his share of the blame in what had happened. She told herself that he just needed some time.

She told herself everything except the one thing she truly feared…

That he didn’t want to know how deep her involvement had truly been… because if he did, how could he forgive her… ever.

Reece walked the corridors of power like he belonged- but then he had always believed he did.

His attentions at the moment were concentrated on the security updates he was reading on his automemo. With just days to the inauguration, they were still sifting through the staff here at the Palace, particularly guards and Intel operatives, trying to sort out who was reliable and who needed to be removed. It was a monumental task and despite it being given priority, it would in all likelihood take several months to process them all- and there would always be a few who slipped through the net; that was what the new Internal Intelligence department had been set up for. The existing Intelligence network would eventually be absorbed into the new, more trustworthy one - when all relevant checks had been completed of course.

And in the meantime, with his father’s reliable 501st and Skywalker’s own 701st spread so thin, a few who had the means to be a genuine threats in the future had already dropped beneath the radar, some within hours of the Emperor’s death.

Saté Pestage was nowhere to be seen, four Grand Moffs were gone, though their ships remained in the fleet, and Dangor had been sighted three times on Bilbringi. Sloppy; he’d be picked up inside the month.

Several members of the Ruling Council had gone to ground too, but Karrde’s people had already tracked three down and were watching them. They’d give them a few weeks to see what they did; they should condemn themselves by their own actions, Skywalker had said. Personally Reece would have been happier simply to remove them and several others, but Luke had maintained that members of the Ruling Council were presently responsible for the day to day running of the Empire, still its de-facto legislators, and he needed stability… for now.

It was, of course, the right thing to do under the circumstances, though as far as Reece was concerned, those who had fled had already illustrated their doubtful loyalty by abandoning their posts, taking whatever they had amassed with them. But Palpatine had been diligent in maintaining files on everyone, and those files from the old regime's Intel divisions were in the hands of the new Emperor’s agents within hours of the takeover. They wouldn’t run far. The Empire still remained, and now as then, disloyalty would not be tolerated.

Those who had proved faithful would be accepted, those who had aided the transition would be rewarded. Those with existing ties would finally reap the benefit.

Reece firmly believed himself to fall into the latter of the three categories; his loyalty to The Heir had never contested or opposed his loyalty to the Empire; they were one and the same.

Since his early induction into the ranks of the Imperial Armed Forces and his recruitment to the Red Guard he was intensely loyal to the Empire, had always believed in it; believed in it still. It was only with assignment to the Emperor’s entourage that his convictions had begun to falter- and not even that in truth. He still upheld the principles of the Empire; the ideal if not the reality. If Luke hadn’t come along, he would still serve the Emperor and the Empire, still loyal to both, if no longer approving of the former in the flesh- what had been left of it.

They always said you should worship your heroes from afar- nearness withered them, and it was this which had slowly brought Wez to the realisation that his beloved Emperor may have lost his way in indulgent gratuity. Everyone came to the Palace with such high aspirations… but all too soon they felt as sullied and hopeless as everyone else, tainted by association.

And just as such thoughts had begun to percolate, Skywalker had come along.

Wez had been recruited by Saté Pestage, the Emperor’s personal Aide- Amedda, like Dangor, was the public face of Palpatine’s Offices; Pestage was well known as the Emperor’s private voice; to have him approach one on the Emperor’s behalf was tantamount to a personal command, as well as individual recognition; a solid foundation in the upper echelons of the Imperial Court. Wez had taken the assignment of course; it wasn’t exactly a choice in truth- if he’d turned it down it would have ended his career, certainly within the Palace and probably within the military. And something nudged him on; curiosity, ambition, vanity even, that he’d been singled out.

And after almost two years of serving Skywalker whilst reporting to the Emperor through Pestage, seeing his own distaste at the petty machinations of Palace life reflected in Skywalker’s and watching him try to steer a fine path between personal ethics and the need to interact with this unpleasant state of affairs, it was hardly surprising that Wez had begun to listen.

He’d been warned of course that the man he would be assigned to was a Sith. That because he could read thoughts, he would know exactly the tack to take with Wez when he came to try to recruit him- which he would, they assured. Though having said that, for a long time Luke had, if not ignored Reece, then certainly discounted him, clearly viewing him as nothing more than another spy in his midst. It was only when Reece began to build some kind of relationship with Nathan Hallin that Luke had begun to accept Reece… and pull him in.

He had simply seemed… the better choice. Everything that the Emperor was, just as decisive and resolute and uncompromising, as was required to lead so massive and sprawling and diverse-an Empire, but with some sense of moral code. Some vision other than the pursuit of personal power and indulgences.

The Empire that Reece so venerated would be better served in Skywalker’s hands; it was as simple as that.

He didn’t regard himself as a dissident or a Rebel. Though, like Skywalker, he was willing to use such factions, he would never support them; he believed absolutely in the sanctity of the Empire. And he believed that Skywalker could maintain and further that. So he was not disloyal, he had simply chosen his loyaties with care - and thus far, had never found reason to question that choice.

Now, in the face of consummation of those expectations, Skywalker kept to himself leading up to the inauguration, quiet and insular, remaining in his apartments. Though unlike the ever-cautious Nathan or the unusually-nervous Jade, Reece could hardly fault him; it was better that he kept a low profile since his injuries were still apparent and anyway, it was time he began creating some sense of detachment.

Public ceremony not-withstanding, he was Emperor now, and some degree of decorum must be maintained.

It was the night before the inauguration when Mara received the comm she had been dreading and yet somehow, on some level, expecting.

“Mara- is Luke with you?” It was Hallin, the raw nerves audible in his voice, making her sit up in her bed, hand slapping at the light panel nearby.

“No, where are you?”

“I’m in his apartments- he’s not here.”

Her heart skipped- it actually skipped; she felt it pause then drum against her chest, “Wait there- I’m on my way.”

She ran all the way; the entrance to the Perlemian Apartments was calm and composed from the outside, the lights turned low for the night and the main doors closed, guards in ever-present attendance.

It was very different inside; when Mara passed through it was into pandemonium, every room lit, about a dozen of the more trusted guards clustered in the security office which was opposite the main staff offices just inside the doorway, everyone checking security footage to trace Luke’s last known movements.

“Have you done a life-sign check?” Mara asked, pushing through; Hallin was nowhere to be seen but Reece was at the front of the throng. They’d disconnected practically all of the security lenses in the apartments at Luke’s order a week ago, only those at the main entrance remaining.

“No- we’re just calling everyone out of the rooms. We’ve done a visual check- in fact we’ve done about three.”

“If he doesn’t want to be seen he won’t be.” Mara reminded.

Call-ins were being monitored by the redoubtable Clem, a long-standing member of Luke's security staff, who had made the transition from Palpatine to his Heir without so much as a blink. Now he turned to Reece, voice tight, “We have all eyes reported in again- still negative.”

Reece shook his head, not really needing the life-sign check; “He’s not in the apartments.”

“How did he get past ten guards?” Mara asked, feeling some uneasy deja-vue creep over her, realising just how much this reminded her of the time long ago when Luke had first broken out of these apartments to buy Han Solo’s freedom.

That time, he’d intended staying in the Palace- this time…

Reece took her arm, pulling her away from the crowds, “We have less than nine hours before the official public inauguration starts; we’ll look pretty stupid without an Emperor in attendance.”

Mara twisted free, “Then you should have been watching him- don’t tell me you didn’t see this coming.”

“You’re supposed to be stabilising him.”

“Don’t worry, Reece, he’ll be at your precious investiture.” She set off out of the security rooms, knowing that it would do them no good to keep looking- if he wanted to be found, he’d be found. The question was; did he want to be- ever?

She was three steps down the hall when Hallin caught up with her on his way back in, though his worried tone at least held genuine concern, “No luck yet?”

“He’s not here.” Mara shook her head, walking out into the corridor beyond the apartment then pausing, realising she had no idea where to go next.

“We just need to think this through,” Hallin said obviously, bringing Mara’s disparaging eyes round to him though he continued gamely, ignoring the look- or missing it in his anxiety, “Where would he go… did you two ever meet anywhere- anywhere private?”

“Nathan, if he wanted to leave, he’ll be long gone by now, believe me.”

“Why are we assuming he wants to leave?” Hallin asked, frowning, though he didn’t dispute the fact, Mara noted.

She set off down the corridor, keeping her voice low, “Come on, you’ve seen how he’s been. He doesn’t want this- he never did. His father wanted it and now he’s locked on that course. Maybe he finally decided to get off.”

Hallin was unperturbed, strangely calm in the crisis, as he always was when it actually came down to it, “If that’s true, he won’t stay on Coruscant; his face is all over the HoloNet- somebody would stop him. He’d want to get further afield.”

Mara frowned, pulled in to the discussion, “Who’s that smuggler he deals with - the one with the handlebar moustache?”

“Karrde?” Hallin considered, “He has expanded his network this far into the Core Systems…”

“Where’s his nearest base?”

“I know he has bases at Velusia and Abregado-Rae….”

“Nothing reachable with a short-range transport; he’d need a hyperdrive?” Mara prompted.

Hallin shook his head, uncertain, “I think he may have a few safe-houses on Coruscant, near the Poles- you’d have to check with Wez-”

Mara had already pulled her comlink free, another thought occurring; “Control? This is Jade- are there any ships due to leave from the secure bays in the West Tower?”

“No, Ma’am. All Tower bays are closed down until after the inauguration.”

Mara frowned, not willing to let the hunch go yet, “Anything cleared but not actioned- high priority clearance?”

There was a pause; “Yes Ma’am; two Echo-Group fighters due to relieve perimeter guards- they’re from bay three… and a long-range scout in bay nine- no assignment listed but it’s an Echo designation; registered to the 701st.”

She shut off the comlink, setting off at a run, “Got him!”

Mara glanced behind her, shouting to Hallin, repeatedly pressing the turbolift call and resisting the urge to head for the stairs, “Get everyone out of Bay 9W - quietly; don’t spook him - and don’t let anybody up there!”

The turbolift doors slid open and Mara stepped in, Hallin’s hand reaching out to hold against the closing door for a moment, “And how am I supposed to do that!?”

“Hallin you’re not a medic anymore- you’re an Adjutant- a Primary Aide,” Mara reminded of his new status, “You can order pretty much everyone now, believe me.”

She pushed his hand free, snapping off one last order between the closing doors, “And don’t let anyone try to lock that ship down or he’ll cut it free and leave anyway!”

By the time she got there the bay was empty. Security was in the corridor outside, looking confused and jumpy, but Hallin had gotten everyone else well away.

Mara walked through the dark silence of the small bay inset into the West Tower, its exit open to the night. Several advanced scoutships were arranged across one wall, their noses pointing to the exit and she walked nervously to the second, easy to spot amongst the others because it was the only one with no landing clamps engaged. The door release wasn’t locked, so she lifted her hand to it, pausing mid-action, realizing she hadn’t the slightest idea what to say if Luke was actually inside. If he wouldn’t come back - what then?

Squaring her jaw, she pressed the release and stepped in, turning to catwalk the short length to the cockpit, wondering why she was being quiet; he was a Sith- he probably knew Mara was on her way here about the same time she did.

“Will you come?” his voice, steady and even, made her jump as she opened the door to the shadowed cockpit.

“What?” she was completely thrown, once by his presence and again by the resolute tone of his voice.

Luke didn’t turn, eyes and spirit never leaving the dark expanse of space visible beyond the inset bay doors, “I’m leaving.” he said simply, “Are you coming - or am I going alone?”

Mara hesitated before the resolute determination of his voice; she’d come here to talk him down; now suddenly she was involved in a very different conversation. She paused at the open cockpit door, voice quiet. “Where are you going?”

He shrugged slightly, eyes still on that sliver of open space, “Away. Anywhere.”

“To do what?”

“I don’t know- does it matter?”

Mara took a few tentative steps forward; Luke was sat tensely, hand resting on the toggles which ignited the fire-up sequence. How long had he sat like this, she wondered? The landing clamps had been released over an hour ago, according to the bay logs. Interestingly, Luke had arranged permission direct with Palace Control a whole three days earlier.

“Why are you leaving?” a stupid question really, but it would get him talking.

She heard his foot tap quickly against the pitch pedals, like he was itching to go, yet he seemed strangely calm, that particular wired, kinetic stillness he had sometimes, like the silence in the eye of the storm. Without the Emperor or his father there to focus him, he seemed more and more to be splitting up- polarising into two separate people; one the confident, driving, self-possessed Sith that her master had created, the other the self-effacing, unassuming, idealistic pilot who had been brought here so unwillingly five years ago. But always with an edge; he never lost that now- Palpatine had ground that into him too deeply to ever step back from.

Luke remained still, eyes fixed on that sliver of freedom, his whole sense attuned to it, as if it were calling him. “Why should I stay?”

“It’s what your father would have wanted.” Mara said, and immediately regretted it. His foot stopped tapping and it seemed to Mara that the temperature dropped several degrees, though he didn’t turn.

“I’m sorry- that was unfair.” she backtracked, and his foot began tapping again, more restless than ever… and still he stared out into the open night.

“My father wanted power.” he allowed at last, knowing it was true.

“For you. He wanted it for you. You’ve achieved everything he wanted- all you intended. Now’s the time to reap the rewards.”

Luke shook his head, voice cynical and very sure, “There are no rewards, Mara.”

She was silent for long seconds, lost as to what he even meant by that… “…You’re the Emperor!

Again he shook his head, dismissive.

“Yes, you are! Tomorrow is just a ceremony Luke- that’s all. You’re already Emperor- you were the moment Palpatine died.”

He finally looked to her, that ground-in, perfectly-modulated intonation giving way to a loose Rim accent; “I’m not an Emperor Mara- I’m a nobody from Tatooine.”

“Who changed the course of a galaxy!”

He looked away, unmoved. “I’m not an Emperor.”

“You are now.”

Luke only shook his head, unwilling to be dragged into a discussion, wrapping his arms about himself, eyes remaining on that this, dark sliver of freedom just beyond the bay doors, so close he could almost touch it.

Mara just stared, struggling to understand- why wouldn’t he want this? “After… after all these years and all this struggle… you’re just going to walk away?”

“Yeah.” The reply was instant.

“But this is what you wanted – it’s what you fought for.”

Luke turned just briefly, surprised that she could be so close and understand him so little, even now. “I was fighting Palpatine, I wanted him, not his position. Vader wanted this, not me… and I don’t owe him anything. I don’t want this power- I don’t want it.”

She reached out to squeeze his arm, “Don’t you see - that’s why you should have it.”

“No.” Luke shrugged away, not wishing this closeness if he would have to leave it behind, “No-one should have this much power. No-one… Let the vultures fight amongst themselves. I’ve no reason to stay.”

“What about me?”

He turned, mismatched eyes locking on her, drawing Mara in as completely as the night sky called him. “Come with me.”

In that moment, she almost would have- would have followed him anywhere. But something held her back; loyalty to her old master, the desire to see Luke rule, to be with him - she didn’t know. She blinked, looking down, caught between conflicting desires. To run - to tell him to fire up the ship and just run with him, wherever he wanted to go - or to stay, a lifetime’s investment and familiarity here, her knowledge of what Luke was capable of, her image of him as that person.

She wanted to be with him here - as that person; as Emperor. “My life is here Luke- and so is yours. This is my home-”

“This is the place where I was imprisoned, beaten, spied on and manipulated for five years.” Luke said tersely, the dry edge returning to his voice along with the formal accent, the change mercurial as ever. “It’s the place where my father died.”

The place where I died. He didn’t say it out loud, knowing she wouldn’t understand- how could she?

“But that’s all done now- it’s done, it’s all in the past. This is your future, your life is here now.”

“No. I’ve done all I intended.”

“So you’ll just leave?”

He remained silent, aware that they were talking in circles, so unfathomable was his decision to her.

Mara only stared, dumbfound. How could he not want this? How could he not see that it was right, that he was right- why he was right? Try another tack; “What about all your plans?”

His eyes dropped momentarily, jaw clenching, then he looked back up, eyes to the stars. “That was them; they’re all done.”

Mara frowned– because he had planned. In the last two weeks, Hallin had slowly let slip fragments and groundwork, objectives and intentions, and... realisation hit Mara then; that Luke hadn’t expected to live, not really. He’d made plans, nudged events to what he believed would be beneficial, hinted at strategies and potential policies, but as an exercise, nothing more. Something to keep him moving, to give others faith. He never thought he’d be here; not now.

But he was, and she would hold him to them, to the possibilities he’d earned; drag him forward if necessary.“I know everything you planned with Hallin and Reece. Are you just going to let all that go now? Those opportunities…”

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.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

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?”

Amedda took a half step forward in his eagerness to seize this opportunity, “No, Excellency, not at all. I would be honoured to serve.”

The Emperor didn’t move, didn’t react in the slightest, just remained still, fingers steepled, staring at Amedda until the Chadrian felt his skin flush hot again, feeling the need to fill the uncomfortable silence with meaningless murmurs, “I would be…”

“There is, of course, a price for this privilege;” The Emperor cut across his words, “If you want my confidence, you must earn it- I trust you are prepared to do that?”

“Of course… name any…”

The Emperor let his hands drop to the arms of the chair, relaxed stance speaking of casual confidence; so much like his predecessor. “Palpatine had a drug - a tailor-made drug created specifically for use against me. You can imagine how… undesirable it would be for such a thing to fall into the wrong hands.”

Amedda nodded rapidly, understanding, “Of course, Excellency, of course.”

“Considering your position, I would assume that you know where such a product was being synthesised and stored. I would also presume that you have the names of everyone involved in the project, from researchers and technicians to manufacturers of storage and delivery systems?”

“I have all the details, Excellency; everyone involved.” Amedda assured readily, eager to buy back favour. “Every unit; research, manufacture and storage.”

“Good. Then I would like you to accompany Chancellor Reece to your offices and supply him with all relevant details- including a list of every guard in the Palace who held a supply or a method of delivering it.”

Amedda, along with all of Palpatine’s personal staff, had been excluded from all Cabinet and Council chambers, including his own offices, since the announcement of the old Emperor’s demise, all the guards with whom he had held sway already removed. A great deal of sensitive and very useful information was securely stored there. Too securely, as it turned out. But then who would have thought that Palpatine’s protégé would have found his feet - and his nerve - so soon? Certainly not Palpatine. And while loyalty to one’s Emperor was tantamount in Amedda’s position, the prerequisite to maintain that status required a certain flexibility as to exactly who that Emperor was.

The new Emperor paused, leaning forward slightly to emphasise the next, “Let me be clear on this, Chancellor; this is your one opportunity to impress me. I do not give second chances and I do not tolerate failure or transgression; loyalty however, will not go unnoticed or unrewarded.”

Amedda bowed several times in appreciation; yes, very little had changed, “Of course, Excellency; of course.”

The Emperor nodded, having felt that he had made his desires clear, “We will speak when you return, Chancellor.”

He said no more, clearly feeling nothing more needing to be said at this time. He had made his wishes clear; it was up to Amedda to prove his usefulness now.

The Chadrian bowed and backstepped before bowing again and turning to leave, the Emperor not looking up to acknowledge this show of respect. Chancellor Reece paused a few moments, closing the door, Amedda waiting outside; if he was anything like the old Emperor, then he would expect his wished carried out immediately- one did not keep a man of his authority waiting. And certainly Amedda was eager to return to his offices; he would take the opportunity to surreptitiously retrieve other information whilst he was there - for his personal use.

Reece closed the door behind Amedda, turning back to Luke; “Well?”

“He’ll help us exactly as long as it’s to his advantage to do so.” Luke stated, no doubt in his mind, gaze turning to look at the point beyond the office wall where Amedda stood waiting, as if for Luke, the barrier simply did not exist.

Reece was hardly surprised at the assessment, but then, that was not the reason for Amedda’s summons; “What do you want me to do?”

“Have the ‘techs go in first and plant a ghost in his system- link it to a remote site and install any covert surveillance equipment you need then go with him; take a few sets of eyes. Make sure the remote site gets his codes and passwords and all the information about the drug from his system when he opens it, including anybody who worked on it past and present.”

“Then?”

“Take a team- close them down. Destroy everything. But I want every single vial accounted for without exception- every copy of the formula and process. No traces.”

Reece nodded, “And those who worked on it?”

Luke leaned back, considering; “They’re under arrest; state security. Put them in the Palace Detention Centre – no-one’s to know they’re there.”

Reece nodded without comment; it was a lighter sentence that he’d expected, but then the Emperor may simply wish to be sure before he wiped the slate clean. “And Amedda?”

The Emperor turned mismatched eyes to Reece, “He’s a liability.” He said simply, knowing nothing more was needed.

Reece bowed then backstepped, turning to walk from the room.

Luke sat in silence for a few moments, considering. Eventually Mara stepped out from the side room she’d been listening from, walking to stand before him, her eyes following his, still set on the door that Reece had exited through.

“Go after him- quietly.” Luke said without hesitation, “Make sure he does exactly as he was told. I want a separate copy of all the information that’s on Amedda’s system - an independent record, not a dupe of Reece’s. And I want proof that all the vials are accounted for.”

Trust was an idealistic luxury Luke could no longer afford; his Master would have been proud of him, he reflected ironically.

Mara nodded without hesitation, stepping fluidly away, heading for the door.

“Mara-” She turned, forest green eyes regarding him as he spoke again, the slightest of smiles on his scarred lips, “That includes the four you hold.”

EPILOGUE

We all watched of course, even us- even the most fervent Rebels drew to a halt to watch from holo-screens in ready-rooms and messes and impromptu setups on the flight-decks. There wasn’t much else to do; most of the Rebel Alliance is hidden away at the edge of the Rim Systems on tenterhooks, waiting to see if he’ll send his Fleet after us.

So even we watched- how could we not? It was history in the making… good or bad. The whole galaxy ground to a halt to watch the investiture of a new Emperor. Everyone from the most ardent Imperialist to the most zealous Rebel… we all fell silent when the images were sent out on every channel across the HoloNet.

Here, we all seemed to drift in and gather round in the mess hall of Home-One, pilots and soldiers and officers and ‘techs, all caught up in that strange, morbid fascination - the desire to get a look at the new Emperor.

And we did; carefully chosen and edited images – always from a distance – which is I suppose how most people will see him now.

There was just one image from the inaugural ceremony itself, in a huge hall with incredible vaulted ceilings, hundreds of dignitaries in attendance; the military, the Royal Houses, planetary Governors and representatives. Our new Emperor sat on a simple, carved chair as luminaries read out the Rites. He wasn’t looking at them.

It’s interesting; gone was the massive throne which had been in every single image of the Throne Room from Palpatine’s reign, gold on gold, a blazing sunburst at its back, carvings of planets and moons set into the heavy gilded footrest. This new Emperor had no taste for ungainly allegory or pointless luxury; he sat on a plain, heavy chair with nothing to prove, his feet firmly on the ground.

The language was Old Coruscanti. Court Language, they call it; no-one else speaks it anymore outside of that most privileged of elite circles. The official paused and everybody in the hall stood and I remember distinctly someone from Intel stood close behind me saying:

“That’s it- he’s Emperor.”

Someone asked how she knew and she murmured without turning from the screen, “No-one sits in the Emperor’s presence.”

He glanced up but he didn’t speak; just looked kinda detached and distant. But he filled that chair like he was meant to be there- like he belonged. And everyone saw that their new Emperor wore a lightsaber. There’d always been rumours about Palpatine; that he was Sith. Now, with the new Emperor, there was no doubt. No room for misinterpretation.

Everyone here knows the rumours of course; Intel had them a few days after the announcement of Palpatine’s death, though nothing was ever confirmed. That he fought with Palpatine for the Throne, a duel to the death between Sith. That’s why they put off the inauguration, not so dignitaries could arrive for some formal ceremony; it was just an excuse to give him time to recover.

The official image was released an hour or so later, probably very carefully chosen. He was stood before an incredible set of screens inlaid with gold strapwork and precious stones, etched and enamelled in a luminous, minutely-detailed rendition of a galactic map- someone said it was the Rim Systems; from Bothan Space all the way to the Sluiss Sector and everything in between. There’s a whole set of them in the Throne Room, they said; the whole galaxy laid out before him, to remind him what he owns. It just… glowed- it was incredible.

He wore a dark, sombre suit with a high stand collar and a long, regal cloak tied over one shoulder, carefully arranged about him and dripping down the steps before him, intense midnight blue against that glowing gold. He didn’t… carry anything; no sceptre, no- I don’t know; no crown or anything but…
He looked like an Emperor - everything I thought he would.

Solo – Han Solo, who always says he knew him – Solo said that on the screen behind him, on the map, was his home planet. I don’t know whether to believe him; why would an Emperor be brought up in the Rim Systems?
He wouldn’t say which planet it was- or how he knew him.

Later there were a few images released from the public celebrations on Coruscant- the largest impromptu fireworks display ever, we’re told.

Our new Emperor stepped out onto the Pageant Balcony in the Main Palace, watching, his limited entourage following him. It was small, but I guess its early days yet.

Forget the fireworks - the massed spectators drowned them out completely when they saw him. The NewsNet said about sixteen million visitors went to Coruscant for the Inauguration. They all think everything will change now- they don’t even know him; most of the galaxy had never even seen an image of him three weeks ago. They have no idea what he’s going to do, they just love him because he’s not Palpatine. Because he’s young and he’s enigmatic and new. Already the NewsNet are starting to mention an Empress. Already everybody knows somebody who knows somebody who claims they met him once - even here!

No-one out there’s talking about what he’ll do – to the constitution or the military or the courts – whether his views are progressive and enlightened or totalitarian and oppressive. They just want to know who’s standing beside him and if it’s serious. No-one wants to scratch the surface of their shiny new hope. They don’t want the truth.

He glanced down only once at the vast, sprawling crowds, lifting his hand in acknowledgement. They went wild – absolutely wild – the noise topped off the sound systems on the autolenses that were recording it. He didn’t smile, didn’t wave again; just stepped back a few paces into his entourage, like he was uneasy; embarrassed by it.

Nice touch, we all thought; he plays the crowds well.

He didn’t stay out there much longer. I guess you don’t have to when you’re the Emperor; you pretty much do what you want- who’s gonna stop you?

He’s already announced a one-month period of official mourning for Palpatine, in which Court will be suspended – ample time for our new Emperor to install his own supporters. Not that he needs them- his word is law now.

The question is… what will it be?

Continued in

At the Brink of the Dawn and the Darkness