In Shadows and Darkness

Chapter 23

.

"Well you are flavour of the month." Hallin said easily as he returned to the Patriot's medi-bay where he had sutured Luke's hand and sprayed the wound with sealant.

Luke looked up, glancing to the door, "Why?"

"I heard about the Destroyer's new name- it's all over the Fleet already. Apparently just any old name isn't good enough for The Heir any more - and Palpatine himself came to check on you earlier. Someone told him you'd be out shortly and offered to bring him here but he didn't seem inclined to wait."

Luke looked again to the door, but he knew his Master was long gone, so was breathing easy again. Less so about the new name or its context, aware of the double meaning; that he too had been redesignated today. He should be pleased that he had the Emperor's trust... why then did he feel so very uneasy?

He studied that thought; became uncomfortably aware for the first time of how easy it had been to rationalise his actions in support of his goal. How easy to validate them. How easy to kill.

"Care to tell us poor grunts what happened then?" Hallin said into his thoughts, clearing his instruments into a sterile bowl.

Luke glanced about the medi-bay, bringing his mind back to the moment; he couldn't see any surveillance but this was a new ship and he wasn't inclined to trust it. "There was a brief disturbance; it was dealt with."

He couldn't say more; not here.

"Ah. Very enlightening; thank-you." Hallin deadpanned, turning back to his charge.

He had been contacted onboard the Peerless about an hour ago with word that Luke had been injured and after a brief, breathless panic had found out that it was a minor injury, Luke himself contacting Hallin from the medicentre onboard the Invincible- or rather the Patriot- to tell his medic not to bother; it wasn't much more than a scratch and a droid was tending it.

Still, professional pride and the fact that Hallin was already on a transport had led him to insist, so Luke had ended up simply wrapping some gauze about the wound until Nathan arrived to suture it, maintaining that he would of course do a far better job and adding that anyway, he took great delight in seeing The Heir wince occasionally.

"Well, I think we can safely say you're free to go now. Sutures out in four or five days; you know the routine."

Luke stepped from the medical gurney he'd been sat on then glanced about, hand to his little finger, "Where's my ring?"

Hallin looked up, "What?"

"My ring, the ring I always wear on my little finger- they asked me to take it off when I came in here - I put it there." He gestured to the surface beside him, still glancing about. "There was a surgical dish right there."

The genuine alarm in Luke's voice made Hallin frown, "There was nothing there when I came in... at least I don't think..." he turned about and stepped into the larger triáge room beyond, Luke quickly following him.

Seeing two small metal dishes on a clear tray on the side, still containing bloody swabs, Luke walked quickly around Hallin, lifting the smaller one.

"It was in this - the droid asked me to take it off to clean the wound and I put it in here - I didn't see anybody take this out."

His voice was nothing short of panic now, and Hallin looked about on the surfaces, confused, "One of the medi-droid must have taken the tray out- it must have removed the ring."

"And done what with it? And the trays are still here... so are the swabs. Why would a 'droid..." Luke paused, his face- his whole demeanour- changing. "Palpatine."

"What?"

"Palpatine was in here."

"I'm sure he wouldn't..." Hallin trailed off as Luke turned on him, eyes wild.

"He was in the outer room- he would have seen it. He'd have only needed a second."

Hallin frowned, unnerved by Luke's intensity over something so insignificant. "Was it important?"

"It was my..." Luke bit off his answer, remembering where he was. Not that it mattered; he would have to go and ask for the ring back anyway - and Palpatine clearly knew what it was, though Luke had no idea how. Had he known Luke's mother... could he have recognised it? Had he noticed it when he had studied Luke's hand on the Bridge?

No- the renaming of the ship had been a genuine act, Luke was sure of it. Another thought occurred, freezing Luke's chest at its implications- had he now ruined the trust he had finally so briefly held?

Because he knew- in every fibre of his being, Luke knew Palpatine had the ring.

He walked to the wall com and contacted the Bridge, mind buzzing. "Joss, is the Emperor still on-board?"

"No, Sir; he and his security escort returned to the Palace a while ago."

Hallin watched Luke stand before the comlink, hand resting on the transmit, considering, finally sighing as he shook his head infinitesimally, jaw tensing, eyes closing in resignation. What was going on- what was so important about the ring?

Luke sighed, cursing his own inattentiveness, rubbing his fingers across the bridge of his nose, tired and frustrated. He never took the ring off- never. Why had he done it today- why had he left it in plain view? Normally he would have simply transferred the ring to his other hand to keep it safe.

It wasn't like him to be so lax. But then he'd been unsettled, uneasy at the Emperor's praise- uncomfortable with it. It had been praying on his mind when he'd been in the medicentre.

Sometimes... he sighed again, frustrated; sometimes he wondered if he sabotaged his own efforts simply as a knee-jerk response. It had been such an obvious oversight- he'd never let the ring from his sight before so why now?

One step forward two steps back; just as he was gaining some trust with the Emperor something happened. So common-a pattern was this that he'd begun to suspect that he could only play the game for so long before it became too uncomfortable to bear and he seemed almost to undermine his own advance. Occasionally it was a conscious judgment to destroy his favour with the Emperor, the by-product of a decision made by choice for logical reasons- at least to his mind. But just as often he would trip himself up or dig his heels in... or worse, he would trip himself up and then dig his heels in- just as he was about to do now.

What he should do was wait; give Palpatine some time to calm down, to view the ring in the larger context of the day's events. In fact what he should do was let the ring go.

That was what he should do.

He sighed, aware of Hallin's frown as he spoke into the comm, "Joss- get me a shuttle."

"What are you doing?" Nathan asked, knowing alarm audible in his voice.

"Going to find Palpatine." Luke said evenly without turning.

"You're not actually going to ask him are you?"

It would be tantamount to accusing the Emperor of stealing, Hallin knew, though even that seemed pale, Luke's disproportionate reaction hinting that there was something bigger at stake here.

"Yes." Luke said, tight voice overlaid with a veneer of brittle calm, "It's the one damn thing I really own; the one thing that's mine."

The one thing he owned belonging to his mother- the one link he had to an unsullied past, though he couldn't say that out loud.

It was also the one thing that could link him to his father - and that he did need to deal with this now, before it became an issue. Correct his mistake and placate his Master's anger before Palpatine dwelled on it too long- before he thought too hard on its implications. Luke shrugged, tone impassive; that of someone accepting their fate, "He's going to make me pay anyway- he's not about to let something like this go. I may as well get it over with."

He glanced up and despite his tone, when he looked to Hallin there was fire in his eyes; raw determination- "And I want that ring back."

.

.

Surprisingly, Luke was admitted immediately to the Emperor's residence, led through the huge, echoing grandeur of the main hallway and under the three-storey double staircase which hugged the curve of ebony and basalt-lined walls. Along columned walkways, the rows of Royal Guard stood to straight attention, a flash of bright scarlet in the cavernous shadows. It was always cold here, the high banks of faceted, copper-banded plexiglass always dialled down to near-darkness, endless stretches of shaded reflections dimmed to dense opacity. Footsteps echoing in the cloying silence, Luke was escorted to an audience room by an unusually tense Amedda, who stopped at the door, bowing slightly, never meeting Luke's eye.

Luke walked forward, taking a deep breath, prepared for anything-

The room was tall and gloomy with fine, intricately-set glass mosaic about walls and ceiling in complex designs and heavy, dark colours, making it seem clostrophobic despite its size. At the far wall was a single, tall window inset with banded brass, its mute glow barely allowing the wan dusk light to enter.

The Emperor stood before it, a brooding figure with his back to the room, heavy robes absorbing what little light touched them.

Gathering his composure, knowing that hesitation or misgivings were not an option before his Master, Luke set forward, coming to a halt before him and stepping automatically down into a bow, one knee to the floor.

Palpatine didn't turn; didn't move for a long time.

"Where did you get it?" he challenged at last, voice deadly calm, still not turning.

No ploys then; no verbal games or subtle manipulations; he was way past that.

Luke kept his eyes down, more afraid than ever now- not of the Emperor; he'd stood before his Master's wrath too many times now. If he turned on Luke it wouldn't be easy, would be brutal and vindictive and pitiless... but he'd survive- he always did.

No- the one thought that was screaming through his head right now was that he would lose the ring, his one link with his mother. He wondered briefly how he would tell his father, who had kept the ring safe for so long, acutely aware that if he lied now he would be taking a significant gamble; if Palpatine realised, then he'd doubtless destroy it- and then turn on Luke. But if he told the truth then he would implicate his father - reveal the connection that would condemn them both - and Luke would still lose the ring.

Why was he risking so much for a ring; it was only a ring...

Just get up and walk away- leave it and walk away. That's what he wants you to do; just say it's worthless, a curio nothing more. Leave it- apologise and you'll walk away exonerated. Let it go.

He couldn't stray too far from the truth; there was no other possible explanation for the ring. But the details could be amended. "I asked Vader who my mother was. The following day the ring was delivered to my quarters." He was committed now; he'd lied to his Master. He'd done so many times before but not like this; Palpatine reduced to cold fury, so much in the balance... Focus; concentrate! Don't slip now.

The Emperor remained motionless for long seconds, the brittle stillness charging the air like the air before a storm. His head tilted just slightly though he didn't turn, as if simply seeing the boy would tip his anger over the edge. "What did he tell you?"

Did he believe? Or was he simply giving Luke the chance to further condemn himself, compounding lies with lies. Should he go on or stop now, whilst he could still back down? Too late, in truth; too late already- but he had to minimise his father's part in this. He couldn't deny or conceal it; the link between his father and the ring was categorical... but he could minimise it; disguise one truth behind another. Give Palpatine something to rail at and in doing so disperse the storm.

"Nothing. Save that she was dead; that I shouldn't concern myself with matters which were long gone." His heart was pounding, but Luke kept his eyes down, kept himself centred, mind buzzing.

Palpatine finally turned, face the thinnest veneer of calm, "Then why do you wear the ring?"

Luke looked up, forced himself to meet that hostile gaze, unable to keep the defensive cast from hardening his own eyes, "Because she was my mother."

Again Palpatine fell silent and again Luke feared that he was being given enough rope to hang himself. He'd been unable to contact his father on his way here and regretted it now, seeing the look in his Master's eyes. If Palpatine lashed out - if Luke was dragged to the cells beneath the Palace - the Vader would face his Master's wrath unprepared.

Finally Palpatine set his head to one side, voice disbelieving, "And yet when your father would tell you nothing- you simply accepted that?"

"No," Luke glanced away, arranging a trace of frustration on his face, clenching his jaw momentarily, "I didn't accept it. We argued. He told me it wasn't my concern." A retelling of the same facts, carefully rearranged; a fine line between seeming reluctant to elaborate, which was the sure sign of a lie and, knowing it was exactly that, being unwilling to provide any more than was absolutely necessary; complications would be difficult to keep track of. He'd played this game too many times- though not often with these stakes.

"The decision wasn't his to make- shouldn't be." Luke added, wishing to seem still infuriated by is father's reticence, to underline their continued enmity. "Whatever rights he thinks he has, he gave up long ago."

.

Palpatine stared for a long time at his errant Jedi, still knelt in genuflection before him. So long that the boy's gaze finally faltered and he looked to the ground, knowing he was the one at fault here. And he was at fault; he was Palpatine's, and Palpatine's alone. There were no rivals- he knew that. "Every time I have a reason to trust you... you give me one to doubt."

The boy at least had the good grace to keep his head down and remain silent. Was he truly penitent or was this simply a masquerade; had he learned these games too well? Palpatine fell to sullen silence, studying the boy, aware that so much was hidden. How could it not be, that he remained always a blank slate before his Master's searching senses?

"Stand up and look at me."

Now he did sense the short, sharp twist of nerves as the boy stood, adrenalin burning in his chest. Sensed the resolve he called on to lift his head and look his Master in the eye. Watched his chest rise in short breaths, noted his realisation of this as he forced calm, steady breathing. Nothing truly telling though, save that he was nervous - but then he was right to be so.

Palpatine took three quick steps toward his Jedi and held his gaze captive in a sharp, judgmental stare, "Are you lying to me?"

The boy held his glare and didn't blink. "No Master." He murmured guilelessly with the slightest shake of his head.

Hide a truth within a truth; that was what Palpatine did- had he learned at the feet of the Master?

The Emperor held that doleful stare, ochre eyes narrowing in scrutiny, and the boy's gaze met his, neither belligerent nor conceding. They remained still for long moments, Palpatine reaching out with the Force, bringing all his astute experience to bear, the boy remaining still, wrapped about by a forced calm, whatever he had hidden too veiled to sense. Finally Palpatine twisted away, frustrated, the dark folds of his heavy robes rendering him a shadow in the falling dusk as he considered for long seconds...

When he turned back, in the palm of his pale, gaunt hand was the ring, still stained by a slick of dry blood.

He saw the boy's eyes go to the ring and knew how much it meant; that this wasn't about his realisation that he had misstepped in owning the ring, it wasn't even about protecting some perceived obligation to his father. He was here because he wanted the ring back.

Wanted the ring why- because of who it had belonged to? Because of some imagined bond with a woman he'd never known, whose only connection was to have carried him? A burst of resentment blazed through the Emperor at that thought; that the boy would value her for no greater reason than biological necessity. That the commitment which Palpatine had fought long years to gain, the devotion he deserved was being freely given to another based on nothing more than genetic coincidence, leaving him in the galling position of having to defend his standing as the boy's only focus from a woman who was already dead, even her memory an unacceptable division of the boy's attention.

The slightest of bitter, biting smiles turned the corners of Palpatine's thin lips up, his expression hardening as he set forward, sense ablaze with grim intent- if the boy wanted he ring so very much then he could have it; but at a price. He would teach the lesson one more time that knowledge was power- and how one wielded it was everything.

The sound- that sound- the crumpled crush of heavy fabric over hard floor as Palpatine started forward, still had the power to cut through Luke, taking him instantly back to the cell below the Palace, the harsh, harrowing, agonizing grind of pain and provocation brought to bear every time his pitiless tormentor entered the cell to the scratching whisper of drawn cloth. Controls and compulsions wrapped about memories too intense to step back from, even now- as he was sure the Sith Master had intended.

Palpatine's spiteful words were bitten out with grating rancour as he drew closer, face twisted in distain, "Your mother was a traitor. While she attended the Senate she was spreading lies and dissent, undermining its authority and attempting to widen the fractures in the failing Republic. She came to power based on her oposition to the Separatists, but as her power base grew she questioned the actions of the Senate against them- she supported those who warred against the Old Republic you so venerate. She was deliberately and directly responsible for the removal of the last true Supreme Chancellor of the Senate, Finis Valorum. She instigated the vote of No Confidence; her actions brought him down- did your father tell you that?"

The boy's chin raised at this, fire in his eyes, and though he didn't speak Palpatine knew he had scored a blow.

"She led the Delegation of Two Thousand, the act which effectively split the Senate in two; polarised it and weakened it beyond retrieval. Betrayed and undermined and fractured the Republic she claimed to serve... and your father forgave her. Repeatedly looked the other way because he was weak. But he paid for his pitiful flaw; he was taught the harshest lesson."

The boy's calm façade began to crack now and he took a step back before the onslaught, unwilling to listen but unable to leave whilst his Master still held the ring- and Palpatine continued, lips pulled back in a malicious sneer as he stepped forward, holding the ring before him.

"Because she betrayed your father too- it was your mother who led Obi-Wan to your father, knowing that the Jedi sought to slay him, young as he was. I had sent him to safety, far from Coruscant - it was your mother who took your father's killer to Mustafar. And then she left with Obi-Wan- left him there to die alone."

"... No!..." Luke reeled back, turning away in denial, letting out a breath as if he had been dealt a physical blow, hand to the wall for support, but Palpatine wouldn't give him that comfort, stepping close, taking his arm to spin him about-

"Am I telling the truth?" Palpatine pushed, "Am I telling the truth?!"

"YES!" Luke twisted free with a gasp, disillusionment breaking his voice, "...yes..."

Palpatine let him go, seeing his shoulders sag, head low- and he smiled, triumph dripping from his words as he spoke, "Do you still want the ring?"

The boy remained silent for long seconds... then he lifted his head, mismatched eyes intensely blue, but as defiant and wilful as ever.

"..... Yes." He grated, unsteady hand out before him.

Disgusted, Palpatine turned away and hurled the ring into the shadows.

Luke turned, hand still before him- and the ring rattled in a curving arc across the dark glass tiles and skipped up into his palm. He paused, looking down at it as he curled his fingers about it... then he turned and left in silence.

Palpatine stood alone, a shadow within the shadows of the darkened room, still turned from the door... still grinning his victory.

.