All of Palpatine's far-reaching plans...this embodied in this half-grown child was the missing link without which all else fell to dust. The opportunity which Kenobi had so long since denied Palpatine when he had is dueled with Anakin was now possible again...by Kenobi's hand. How wonderfully ironic. It made possession that much sweeter.
But how to possess? How to make it yield to a new Master?
Had he held it ten years earlier, as he had its father, there would have been no question as to its loyalties. But that opportunity was gone, stolen away by the Jedi, bane of all his careful plans. So how to go about twisting this mind to his own ends, now? That he didn't know yet; that would take time--to learn, to exploit. To create the chains with which he would bind it.
It wouldn't be awed by his abilities or his position, and careful study of his spies' reports over the last three years suggested that the more pressure he brought to bear, the more the willful little creature would push back. If he needed further proof of that, then Lord Vader's encounter at Cloud City was a prime example.
He could offer it power--more power even than its father now held--was that a possible incitement? Position, perhaps; recognition...unequalled status? Assets and wealth? Though if it wanted any of those, it could have taken them in abundance long before now.
And pain alone wouldn't sway it; if that were the case, then Vader would have already triumphed. It was, after all, his forte. No, the boy wouldn't submit under duress of pain. Outrage would only feed his resolve.
Because Vader had tried, presumably, though he hadn't admitted to such. Palpatine wasn't blind to his ambition, though he knew it was not a true threat--not without this boy. Vader's weakness had always been his lust for power: the power to excel, to rise beyond his humble origins, to change events to suit his own desires. It blinded him to all other considerations. But he lacked the resolve to carry those ambitions through with Palpatine, the chains which bound him too old and too deep-set. That was why he needed the boy; to accomplish what he knew he could not, mentally as well as physically.
Still, Lord Vader would surely have offered more than Palpatine ever could at Bespin, and it hadn't abandoned its principles or its companions. Perhaps that was his son's weakness; a Jedi's compassion; it cared too much. Always a terrible, hobbling flaw. Compassion had long been the weak underbelly of the Jedi...had it realized this?
Probably not; its every act had illustrated its loyalty to its cause, its need to protect that with which it felt empathy. Its Rebellion, its comrades, even the Jedi tenets which had so bound and constricted it. Yes; compassion had made it trust, and trust had dragged it down to weakness.
Once he clarified the extent of Kenobi's deceptions--the depths he'd stooped to, the devious, hypocritical cruelty he'd committed in the name of his precious Jedi Order--would it turn away? Surely. Surely the boy would abandon any thought of allegiance. In its position, Palpatine would aid Kenobi's enemies out of spite; just revenge on those who had so callously sought to use him.
And Palpatine would take that. It wasn't loyalty, but it was a start, a fracture point, a means in. He took one step closer, drawn in by this locus of power. Trained power--the boy was accomplished to some degree; not what he had expected. Vader had first encountered the boy three years ago above both Alderaan and Yavin, and had claimed that Obi-Wan had only begun his training, but this was not the awkward, unpolished potential he had anticipated. This was, to all intents and purposes, a Jedi.
He smiled a thin, gratified smile which did nothing to soften that sulphurous gaze; it had been so long since he had sensed another Jedi. Far, far longer since he had sensed an adept of this power. He cackled knowingly at that; the boy's lifetime, in fact.
An even longer stretch since he'd had the opportunity to truly challenge his own abilities in this way; those without knowledge of the Force were so easy to manipulate and mold, broadcasting their every emotion but sensing nothing, floundering in the dark. But this...this would be a meeting of minds. A Jedi would read his intent as clearly as he read theirs.
With his father, Palpatine had held the luxury of time, investing years of subtle manipulation in the boy from early childhood. Forming a connection, a dependence, an unbreakable bond. Now he had no such convenience; Vader's son was practically grown, with his own beliefs no matter how shaken, and his own will. He would never trust as his father had.
But trust wasn't necessary. Only obedience.
The unanticipated fact that he was trained was a curiosity, but of no lasting importance. He had turned Jedi before. Count Dooku had been so willful, so defiant in the face of Darkness... But everyone had a weakness. Once isolated--once the flaw was found and compounded--that iron resolve had crumbled so wonderfully.
Like Dooku, Skywalker would of course know what Palpatine was doing; that was always the challenge with Jedi. Which was why it had been so advantageous to loose Vader on it. He had needed to so brutally dissect its life before he brought it before him, and to provide Skywalker with someone to rail against of course. An enemy to concentrate that willful obstinacy on, whilst safely removing it from himself so that he remained always the principal authority, all his Jedi's attention and energies and anger carefully directed elsewhere.
A challenge was all well and good, but Palpatine had never believed in starting from a level playing field; it was not in his nature.
He again became aware of Jade's eyes on him and let his face settle into a neutral expression as he pulled his thoughts to more immediate concerns.
"Tell them to repair this," he said to her of the medics, indicating the bandaged remains of his Jedi's arm.
"Tonight?" Mara asked.
"Of course tonight," Palpatine said, the snap in his tone indicating his annoyance that she need ask.
"The hand, is it...temporary?"
He knew what she was really asking, and why. So he smiled at her discreetness, rewarding her with a direct answer. "No, my dear, it is permanent, like my guest. Have them fit the very best. Nothing less will do for my new Jedi."
He looked again at the still-frail creature, resisting the urge to shake it awake. No doubt it would make its presence known from the moment it was.
"Mara; put a detachment of my Royal Guards outside its door with the Palace Guards; it's more powerful than I thought. There are to be no mistakes."
"Yes, Master," she acknowledged. "But the lock's not breachable. The room is a prison; he won't..."
He only needed to turn slightly towards her, not even bother to catch her eye. She was instantly silent.
"You will stay here at the Palace for the foreseeable future," he continued, as if she had not spoken. "You are now responsible for its imprisonment until I'm satisfied that it will stay where I put it."
It was a gamble, to place Mara in charge when only Vader could really control the boy, but she was capable and loyal, and whilst Vader's involvement was very much a part of his greater plan, Palpatine had no desire to have him anywhere near the Jedi until he himself had a far greater understanding of the situation. And Mara Jade had her part to play, eventually...
.
.
Mara scowled, emerald-green eyes narrowing in distaste as she glanced again to the unconscious man. She didn't like babysitting jobs, they were beneath her. Especially ones with no future, which this Jedi surely was, no matter what her master claimed right now.
"Not this one," Palpatine said with a smile, more alive than Mara remembered seeing him in many years. "This one will carry my Empire forward. He will be all that his father should have been."