"You're being taken to Coruscant for trial." He said finally, voice emotionless, "I should imagine the verdict is pretty much a foregone conclusion."
"Is that what you're here for? To gloat?"
"No." he seemed strangely placid, not rising to her angry accusation. "I thought you would want to know. Nobody should have to go to death unprepared."
Mon felt lightheaded at this, angry and outraged all at once, her passion giving her courage.
"I'm not afraid of you." She announced, and he moved just slightly, making her start despite her words.
"Yes you are. You'd be a fool not to be, and you were never that, Mon. Blind perhaps- willing to be led."
She frowned into the shadows, shaking her head in refusal. "I'm not going to play your word-games."
He remained hunched against the wall, a shadow in darkness, those star-bright eyes glinting. "No? Not even once, for old-time's sake?"
Mon searched his face in the dusky light, but nothing was there save expectant amusement, any real intent or emotions well hidden, the man she had thought she knew completely discarded.
"Do you have anything you'd like me to pass on?" he asked at last, completely serious.
"To whom?" Mon challenged, "We hardly move in the same circles."
He only shrugged, unoffended. "To the Alliance perhaps...to Leia. I know how close you were to her."
Mon shivered at the realisation that he spoke to her in the past tense - as if she were already dead. Then realisation of what he'd said brought her chin up, "Leave Leia alone!"
He shook his head, bringing his steepled fingers up before his scarred face, the deep slice through his lips twisting as he smiled just slightly, "I can't do that, Mon. You started a war- you opened the floodgates."
She shook her head, "Don't blame me for your own vindictive desire for revenge."
"I have no need for further revenge - the score is settled. And in truth it was only partly that anyway; my desire to remove you coincided with your attack. The latter hid the former- bought me permission I would never otherwise have had."
She frowned, uncertain, and he tilted his head just slightly, murmuring gently though that did nothing to ease Mon's trepidation. "You see I have plans... an Empire to build. When all the obstacles are removed."
"She'll stop you." Mon said of Leia, absolutely sure.
He smiled genuinely, but in anticipation rather than agreement. "Perhaps. If anybody can then it's her... but I don't think so."
"She knows what you are."
"So did you, Mon." he said easily, "But you still let me lead you."
Mon dropped her head, rubbing at her temples, lost. He gave her the time, not speaking as she struggled to come to terms with this; the realisation that he would go after another leader, then another, then another. Hunt them down; single them out and split them from the pack then close in for the kill - like the wolf Palpatine always claimed he was.
And still he sat, mute and mild, watching her with those strangely mismatched feral eyes...
"Why?" She murmured at last, "Why do you hate us?"
He only shrugged, impassive. "I don't hate you, Mon. But as I said, I have plans - and you were in the way."
Mon lifted her chin in defiance, "How inconvenient for you."
"Yes it was. And I had no idea how to deal with it, none at all. Until you forced my hand- made it personal."
"You think removing me will make a difference but it won't - not at all. You'll only feed the fire. Leia will replace me. She'll lead the Alliance when I'm gone."
"Why Leia?" He asked, openly curious.
"She was born to lead. It's in her blood..." Mon paused, unsure why that statement seemed to interest the Sith so very much.
"Why Leia- why not Madine?"
"You know why - have you forgotten or did you never really listen?" Mon said, but he remained silent, expectant... and as good as she was, Mon fell for the oldest trick in the book and kept talking; "Madine is a General, and a good one, but he's a military man and ours is not a military organisation, no matter what we have been forced into. The military are there to support the Alliance's ideals- not to lead. Leia is a political leader therefore she can take power... Madine never could. But she's also a pragmatist- and a fighter. She'll find a way to bring your precious Empire..."
He rose, making Mon's words trail off.
"Thank-you, Mon." He said at last, his tone indicating that the conversation was finished as far as he was concerned.
"What...?" Mon Mothma rose, uncertain.
"Thank-you. Since I didn't catch Madine this time, I needed to be sure that Leia and not Madine would take command before I could move forward. Anybody else would have required an editing of my plans."
He gazed at her for long seconds, face strangely open yet completely emotionless. "I'm sorry it had to be this way, Mon - but the choices were yours, not mine."
She shook her head, "I don't regret them."
"Really?" He looked at her for a long time, eyes calculating, searching...
Luke sighed, reluctant; aware that he should simply turn and leave... but unable to do so. Whether it was to ensure his ongoing plans or simply settle his curiosity he didn't know, but he wanted, needed to do this; to make this offer. If she proved him wrong and took him up on it, he had absolutely no idea what he would do. But he still had to make it- if only to answer his own jaded conscience. "If I told you that I could help you - help the Alliance covertly - that there may be a way to work together to..."
She lifted her chin in defiance, cutting him off. "We don't need your help. We can fight our own battles."
His silence invited further comment, and Mon heard her own voice harden as she issued through clenched teeth, "I don't trust you; and nothing you can do and nothing you can say would ever make me."
Even this he seemed strangely tolerant of. "No- I thought as much... but I had to try."
He glanced back up, his smile reminding her momentarily of the idealistic boy she had known... but that effortless smile turned so easily into a feral grin, "Time to move on..."
And finally, like a bolt from the darkness, Mon Mothma put all the pieces together - his offer to pass any message on to Leia, his confidence that he could, his need to know that Leia would succeed Mon...
"You're in contact with Leia!"
"Among others." He allowed, no triumph at all in his voice. "Don't worry, Mon; she's not a traitor. She doesn't know it's me- yet."
Before she knew what she was doing, Mon had lunged forward, striking out, connecting a hard blow across his face.
He caught her hand as it left him, yanking it down to leave her defenceless, his own body tensing...
Then he smiled, though it never reached those cold eyes. "I'll give you that one, Mon - perhaps I deserve it."
She tried to pull free, but he held her wrist, grip like steel. His gaze stayed on her for a long time, contradictory emotions flitting across those disquieting, mismatched eyes.
Eventually he half-shrugged as he let her go, the action casually dismissive though there was something- some unspoken apology in the tone of his words. "Look at it this way, Mon- one way or another, you walk free of this prison in a few days. I'm serving a life sentence."
She frowned, confused at his words, but still striking out, "I hope it's an eternity."
"Every day, Mon." He assured as he turned to leave, "Every single day."
.
.
Vader was aware of his son's approach long before the commotion began outside his quarters onboard the Executor- though commotion may have been the wrong word, as brief as it was. There were two guards in the long corridor which led to his door, its entrance closed for the night, permitting no further visitors. Vader heard the sharply spoken words then sensed the brief spike in the Force, followed by silence...