Luke nodded slowly, eyes on the looming, ominous bulk of the Super Star Destroyer, "Perhaps it was his Honour Guard; maybe they went up a day early."
Mara agreed casually, only mildly interested, "Possible. I thought I saw his personal guard go up last night though - and the bulk are set to go up today on his shuttle and its escorts..."
.
Luke heard little after that, mind racing, so that he didn't even recall the shuttle landing in the massive Main Bay of the Invincible. Didn't remember walking past regimented rows of perfectly-turned out stormtroopers, nor nodding distantly when Palpatine's favoured dignitaries and Moffs were presented when he reached the Command Deck of the wide bridge, the two mirror-image Ops Pits milling with nervous officers. Everything was done on autopilot, thoughts buzzing, stirred to a frenzy by one fact;
He knew. Palpatine knew that an attack was imminent and had prepared for it.
Why exactly he had chosen to do let it go ahead Luke didn't know; he must have his reasons. At this moment, it was a moot point- all that mattered was that he knew.
And chances were, if he knew when, then he probably knew how - which meant that even if the Command Codes appeared to work, there must already be some override in place, hidden within the system.
Perhaps Olin'yaa had broken after all; or had his Master managed to place a new spy within the Rebellion already? The latter was a serious complication, because Luke knew it placed his own spy Argot at risk. Another complication occurred, chilling in its implications; could Palpatine know that Luke also knew? Was this a test for him too? His Master loved to test the loyalty of those around him and this was just the kind of convoluted game he would play...
Luke considered carefully, from every angle, calming rushing thoughts, trying to see clearly, free from his Master's painstakingly-instilled propaganda and paranoia.
No- contrary to the image Palpatine liked to project, he wasn't all-seeing or all-knowing; there was no possible connection between Luke and the attack, no way prove his knowledge, except possibly through Luke's own source within the Rebellion, a contact which he'd long admitted to Palpatine but never identified. Due to the secrecy of the mission, there was no guarantee that Argot would know about the planned attack at all; since Palpatine didn't know who Luke's agent was, it could logically be assumed that this was something she had not been high enough up the ladder to be privy to.
In fact with some careful management it could actually take a little of the heat off her if Palpatine had placed his own spy, charged with revealing and closing down Luke's source.
All of which was immaterial right now; all that mattered was his reaction today; to assist or impede.
The assembled dignitaries were brought to order, Luke politely guided to the head of the assemblage, Mara always in his shadow - did she know something was wrong?
Aware of his extended silence, Luke turned, giving a brief, tight smile before the Emperor entered the room, silencing it by his presence, walking to the head of the bowing assembly, Luke automatically stepping smoothly down to one knee without making eye contact, his mind still racing, aware of his Master's eyes on him.
Was he waiting? Was he waiting for an admission from Luke?
It would of course be a mistake to suddenly claim knowledge; Palpatine would know Luke had worked it out and adjusted his own actions accordingly. Which meant that all Luke could do was to brazen this out...
He had to stay; he had to stay on the Bridge until the attack took place and react to it as if it were from any unknown outside threat - which meant that when the moment came, he had to shut it down decisively. The Rebels' lives were forfeit anyway, whoever they were; there was nothing Luke could do to help them now. Better a quick death at his hands than days at the mercy of Palpatine's pitiless outrage.
Beladon D'Arca, as Master of Ceremonies, began his speech, performing a neat, careful bow to the Emperor then to Luke as he acknowledged them firstly and separately, before the privileged, select group attending in person the official launch of the Destroyer.
"Excellency; Sir; Gentlemen- welcome onboard the new flagship. Not just of the Core Fleet but of the whole Empire. You are now standing aboard the most technologically advanced ship in the galaxy, ushering in a new age of Imperial superiority..."
Luke didn't even hear the voice let alone the words, eyes fixed on the man without seeing, mind racing to figure this through...
Yes; the lives of the Rebel strike team onboard were already forefit- they just didn't know it yet. Whatever they did, whatever he did, they were dead. The first rule of sabacc; don't get pot-committed. If he tried to help them, hoping to give them some chance to redeem a plan which was now essentially flawed, then he risked implication, at best as a collaborator, at worst as the instigator, either option carrying severe punishment. For anyone else it would be death; for Luke-
No, Palpatine wouldn't kill his prized Jedi, but he would take him apart, break him to pieces just as he had done that very first time. Luke would be returned to that cell, as if the last four years had never happened.
All his work, all his sacrifices for nothing.
Begin again - only harder, because Palpatine would never trust again. Wouldn't ever let his precious Jedi out of his sight. Luke's mind buzzed in persecution at the thought of his time in the cell, the memories still intense, entwined about his every waking thought even after all this time- enough to set a barbed rush to crush his chest, jaw locked, eyes staring at nothing, oblivious to the polished, gracious ceremony taking place around him.
No; he couldn't do that, not again. And he wouldn't do it- not for a group of people who were hoping to bring him down at the same time as the Emperor; kill two birds with one stone.
That was the truth of it- that was the extent of their consideration for him... and therefore the extent of his consideration for them.
Whatever they thought they could achieve, he would achieve- not with fireworks and fanfares like this, but slowly, quietly, behind the scenes.
Plans within plans.
Yes- that was the best course of action; if he went after them himself today, then it would at least demonstrate that he had no part in the plot. If he removed them then at least it would be a quick death- they would be spared his Master's wraith and more importantly they couldn't be interrogated. There was no connection to reveal of course, but it was better to be sure. And if he couldn't, if he was ordered to stand down... well then he owed them nothing...
The distant drone of the Master of Ceremonies filtered through the edge of Luke's thoughts, the moment of action coming ever closer, tingeing the Force with portent, charging the air, tensing his muscles-
".... is set to become not just the flagship of the Fleet, but the flagship of the Heir to the Empire, and if the past is any indication, we can be confident that under his accomplished command it will enjoy more than its fair share of action."
A polite ripple of laughter rolled around the Bridge at the last, Luke glancing back to the assemblage, having missed completely whatever banality D'Arca had spoken. Clenching his jaw, he allowed a tight smile, senses afire...
... NOW!
The lights fluttered just briefly... then the heavy blast doors onto the Bridge slid closed, the massive central lock engaging. Along the corridor beyond, the muted sound of multiple sets of armoured doors all locking in quick succession rumbled back onto the Bridge.
The speaker frowned, hesitating...
At the corner of Luke's vision in the Ops pit, an officer was toggling controls on a console, trying unsuccessfully to open the doors again.
It's starting...