Chapter 20
Darth Vader stood in silence in his ready-room onboard the Executor, watching the small, flat image without moving, remaining outwardly impassive at the recording which zoomed in from a distant wide-shot to a shaky, indistinct close-up of the West Tower of the Imperial Palace, his son sat cross-legged as if in meditation on the high balustrade outside of his apartments there, Mara Jade stood close by- and what was she still doing there at all? Hadn't he warned his son of the dangers inherrent in allowing such closeness - why did the boy never listen. Would it be up to Vader to remove her against his son's wishes?
From this distance they seemed at ease, lost in conversation, only their body-language betraying the serious nature of the moment. Vader again cursed the limited nature of this kind of distance- image, taken from high-orbit above Coruscant, the airspace over and about the PAlace restricted. Set on the ecumenopolis of Coruscant, the Imperial Palace was blanketed with many kinds of shields, both to secure against physical attack and to guard against technological warfare of any kind- including spying. Other buildings were hardly close, the Palace enjoying the ultimate luxury on Coruscant, affordable only by the Emperor; space, long tracts of open walkways and tiered terraces setting it apart from its neighbouring buildings, both to emphasise its relevance and to provide a buffer which was easy to patrol and defend.
Palpatine had fifteen Palaces on Coruscant, ranging from the restrained, seventeen-storey, three-hundred roomed Winter Retreat at the planet's frigid South Pole to the vast, sprawling might of the Imperial Palace at the Capital, a city within itself, the seat of government for the Empire and Palpatine's favoured residence.
And even this, in the greater scheme, was nothing; there were in all well over three hundred Palaces, spread out over his Empire on planets of significance, massive edifices conceived as absolute statements of supremacy and scope, visible symbols of the autocratic power they embodied, each filled with the very best that their system could offer, willingly or not, a monument to the Emperor's authority and importance. Most of them the ever-reclusive Emperor had never even visited; never intended to. What mattered to Palpatine was not that he needed or even wanted them; what mattered was that he owned them; that he was seen to do so.
Vader himself owned five Palaces on four planets, all presented to him by the Emperor, though he'd not failed to notice that, among his gifts and favour, Palpatine had awarded Luke no residence of his own, preferring to keep the boy close, forcing him to return to the Palace and his Master's closely-controlled clique whenever he was ordered back to Coruscant.
Only three times had Palpatine moved his retinue whilst Luke had been En Courte; twice to the Winter Retreat on Coruscant and once to the immense Selo Complex on Caamas. But always he returned within the month, unable to stay away from the seat of his government and his power for any length of time. He believed himself impregnable there and had gone to great lengths to ensure this, though most of the measures were not visible from the outside of the massive Imperial Palace, designed to be viewed as a monument to his confidence rather than his obsessive paranoia.
One such hidden measure was a series of disruptive shields which ensured that no technology-based system would penetrate the Palace, so any kind of technological spying equipment or enhancement, including visual and auditory, was nullified. The only thing which couldn't be guarded against by the shield system was old-fashioned light-rays, so visual images could be picked up from a distance and, with the use of high-quality lenses, recorded.
A visual shield could of course have been implemented to rectify this, but by its very nature it couldn't be hidden and in the politics of public power-plays, image meant as much as intent. The populace needed to see the indestructible might and unassailable confidence of Imperial supremacy inherent in the monolithic Imperial Palace on Coruscant, designed to be the epicentre of power. It was the tallest structure on the densely populated city-planet, no other building allowed to be higher, built deliberately over the ruins of the old Jedi Temple. Court, the Government and the Military all reported to, were presided over and administered from this single location, a fact intended to clarify that all three came expressly under the control of one man - the man whose Palace this was; the Emperor.
And paranoid as he was, he wouldn't be scrutinized or familiarised despite his desire to remain always in the centre of his Galaxy. So now all that Vader could do was curse the quality of the small flat image taken from high orbit, aware that he couldn't ask Intel to clean up or extrapolate the recording for more information without risking a copy of it reaching the Emperor. He leaned forward unconsciously, as if it would make a difference...
In the next moment, the boy swung his legs free and stepped off the high balcony, Vader twitching in shock-
Jade leapt forward to grab at his arm, so that he swung in a short arc, dropping slightly as she staggered forward into the barrier, using its mass to it stop her, clearly unprepared for the action.
They remained like that for long seconds, Luke finally looking up to her before reaching out his other hand and climbing back onto the balcony, Jade pushing him back a step with both hands against his chest when he had.
"I felt it shouldn't go into the public domain." Colonel Hoken said diplomatically at last. He was a short, square, military man, not particularly given to inventive thinking, but Vader trusted him; he was loyal, both to Vader and of late, to his son too, the boy's military leaning gaining him ever more popularity in the fleet as his abilities also began to flourish.
He realized he was still staring at the officer, mind buzzing with the content of the recording. "There are no copies?"
"No, my Lord, not to my knowledge. The spy who was selling the images is still in custody on Bilbringi. Under interrogation he admitted that this was his first attempt to sell them."
"Bring him here. Quietly." Vader ordered; best to be sure.
Hoken bowed carefully, made a smart military turn and left to carry out his orders, leaving Vader to turn and replay the images, considering.
Hoken's undercover teams were always present on Bilbringi due to the Imperial shipyards there, but it had been pure chance that one of them had heard about a recording regarding The Heir and reported it to his superior, who had arranged to have the man arrested, then done the right thing in contacting Hoken to pass on the recording.
Its content was... disturbing; doubly so, when he watched it alone now. Firstly because he had no idea what his son had been doing, and secondly because Mara Jade clearly remained a part of his son's inner retinue. That she had caught him was neither here nor there- it was her mission to guard him, appointed by the Emperor to whom she was fanatically loyal.
The relevant point here was that his son had presumed she would do so. Because no matter what Luke believed, she was not to be trusted.
He reached out and took the small storage chip from the display unit, the image fritzing to static as he did so. Holding it momentarily in his gloved hand, he closed his fist, crushing it beyond repair.
.
.
.
Luke stood to tense attention in the silence of his quarters onboard the Peerless, gazing without seeing into the diffuse, chaotic glow of Lightspeed. He had finally been given leave to return to the Destroyer earlier that day - the forth time he'd requested it - after almost three weeks trapped among the stifling intrigues and relentless plotting of the Palace and his Master's precious Court. He'd left within hours of receiving permission, his own small entourage in tow, resenting the fact that he had one at all; that he was forced into such things by the life he now lived.
Onboard ship had been no better; everyone was frustrated at having been cooped up over Coruscant for so long, eager to be gone just as he was, the restless atmosphere palpable.