His mind naturally moved on from this to other considered actions today, carefully placing uneasy thoughts of his own muddy past aside for a time when he'd have the opportunity to study them.
His conduct onboard the Patriot had at least ensured that his greater plan remained intact; Leia Organa was still free- though what had possessed her to come on such a high-risk mission to the heart of the Empire in the first place he had no idea. It had been an impulsive gamble to risk helping her at the time; a gut-instinct which had overruled all else, but the fact that he had gone to her aid may be of some value, setting questions in her mind, making her believe him still sympathetic to her cause in some way. Making her more willing to think that she just might be able to trust him, if only for a short time- which could only be to his advantage.
A brief smile came to his lips, curling the scar there at the memory of what had happened last time he had answered that gut feeling and gone to rushing to Leia Organa's aid.
He'd like to claim that today was indeed a result of long-term plans, but in fact it had been the same flip in his stomach as it had been on the Death Star... he chose to look no further at that tangle of feelings, concentrating instead on the benefits it had netted; he'd eventually be called upon to validate his actions, not so much by Reece and Hallin, but certainly by his father when the facts came out - and claiming a gut feeling would not be an acceptable justification.
There was no point in trying to explain to his father; no point in trying to offer any persuasion. He always knew best, and rolled over any unwillingness on Luke's part as forcefully as Palpatine ever did. Was it out of paternal concern or myopic ambition?
Luke remembered of old how many friends had lied to their parents on Tatooine, to maintain their own autonomy - but none had done so believing that if their parents discovered the lie, they could easily face betrayal to a ruthlessly implacable higher authority. That remained, as always, the limits of Luke's relationship with his father; that it had been he who had handed Luke over to Palpatine, knowing what the Sith would do.
And despite everything, Luke still believed that under the same circumstances, his father would do the same thing.
Under that threat, how could he even consider admitting the truth? How could he risk what little he had left - and how could his father blame him for doing so? No, better to hide Luke Skywalker behind The Heir. It wasn't too hard a task; the truth was that even he found it different to tell one from the other now, intentions which had originally seemed so incompatible melding into a single intent. It would probably never come to fruition, but it was these long-range plans which kept him moving, kept him sane. And if either Vader or his Master figured them out then they deserved the upper hand, because Luke seldom could; sometimes they changed from day to day- from minute to minute, according to his disposition.
Yet when he'd seen Leia... in that second, all his plans had fallen away, secondary to his need simply to help her. Why he was always driven to protect her he didn't know. Yes, he needed her exactly where she was to fulfil his plans, but the truth was that in the moment that he'd realised she was aboard the Patriot, they hadn't even been a consideration. All he knew was that he needed to help her... and in that moment when she turned to run, if she'd taken his hand...
But she hadn't; he'd seen nothing but fear in her eyes; no recognition, no acknowledgement at all of the man she'd once said she couldn't imagine life without. And who could blame her? That man was long gone, swallowed up by this life and its constant demands.
Sometimes though, he still heard Luke Skywalker whisper to the Emperor's precious Wolf and sometimes... sometimes he still listened.
He focused his eyes, realising too late his mistake as Mara walked toward him, having no way to reasonably avoid her now.
.
Mara smiled as she walked toward him, aware that he'd been daydreaming. "You know, I may begin to get the feeling you're avoiding me."
She'd watched him intermittently from a safe distance for almost two hours now; had seen him intently single out specific officials and Moffs, the conversations always short, probably lasting until he had achieved whatever goal he set himself, a few minutes of mindless pleasantries either side, purposely including third parties now to conceal that goal from prying eyes, then he moved on.
It was like watching a con-man work a room...
She walked to stand beside him rather that before him, which may appear too familiar to watching eyes in the crowded room of milling people, both of them staring out for a short while, listening to the orchestra, keeping their distance, maintaining a casual formality as they always did in public, their words hidden behind the distant music.
Mara glanced sideways at him, studying him far closer than her casual glance suggested, aware that there was a focused energy about him tonight, an intensity which spoke more of purpose than nervousness. He looked at once distant and removed yet completely, intensely focused, as he often did on these occasions, and ... very handsome.
He was dressed formally in a dark, flawlessly-fitted suit, a touch of white showing at the high collar. The suit was an interesting choice, hinting at military styling without being so specific as to alienate any civilians present, its cut emphasising his trim form- he was slim, would have perhaps bordered on rangy without the muscle which heavy daily exercise had earned him. As it was, it made him lean and powerful; one more allusion that he was becoming a force to be reckoned with.
Impeccable as always, very straight, very calm, he exuded self-possessed confidence despite the plethora of high-ranking officials present; an effortless poise which seemed completely unassailable. If it was an act for the benefit of those around him then it was a flawless one, Mara reflected. Sometimes it was difficult to tell with Luke; at times he was absolutely The Heir; the Emperor's Wolf, his Sith advocate, decisive and ruthless, relentlessly pursuing his goal... yet at other times he seemed absolutely the pilot who had been dragged here with no desire to stay, isolated and unreachable, still trying resolutely to cling to a past and a precedent which could only hinder him here and he knew it.
The more she knew him privately, the more she recognised these disparate facets, no matter how well he hid it from Palpatine.
The more she understood why Hallin stayed close.
Luke's mismatched eyes faltered momentarily, uncomfortable beneath Mara's searching gaze, and she turned away, smiling, her voice quiet enough to be hidden beneath the music. "So what trouble are you up to tonight?"
He smiled slightly, composure returning, his voice low and smooth, tinged with amusement, "I never create trouble; I just wake up on a morning and there it is."
"That's because you take it to bed with you." she countered easily, glancing back round.
"You can say that again."
She looked away, stifling a smile, but he kept his eyes on her, making her turn back, curious.
"You look very beautiful tonight." He said simply, making her self-conscious, her cheeks heating. He still had the power to do that; take her completely off-guard.
"Now I know you're up to something."
He glanced away into the crowd, manner politely indifferent for the benefit of any outside observers, "Yes I am - and you're ruining my schedule."
"Dance with me?" she asked simply, choosing to ignore his words even though she could sense the truth behind them.
He glanced back, momentarily surprised, then looked away, "I think I've upset Palpatine enough today, don't you?"
She too turned away slightly for the benefit of those watching, though her quiet voice was warm and teasing, "Why would dancing with me make it any worse- are you that bad-a dancer?"