"Was he reluctant to teach you, my friend? Did he tell you why? Did he tell you that he had foreseen your future, as I have. Your destiny is at my side, not his. It is written in every fiber of your being, it is in the blood which gives you life--inevitable, inescapable."
.
.
Luke remained silent, eyes unfocused, lost in the realization of what was to come--would he betray Yoda? It had seemed so real; a moment of irrefutable clarity summoned up and twisted through with the Force. No vision as such, no elucidation, just that one fact, absolutely unassailable, driven home like a blow to the gut.
And still Palpatine pushed, so many questions, never pausing for an answer, voicing Luke's deepest, darkest fears. Cool, bone-thin fingers brushed his cheek in mock compassion as the Sith slowly drew his hand away. In that moment, faltering in a sea of doubt, Luke barely noticed.
The Emperor smiled lopsidedly, pale lips pulled back over yellowed teeth, that moment of intense clarity giving him confidence as it stripped it from Luke's own resolve. "Did he forbid you to go to Vader? Try to keep you by his side, where he could control you and contain, subdue you and restrain? Never to reach your full power, because that would be greater than his, and he would never allow that."
He reached out to take Luke's chin in his hand again, whispering as he turned Luke's head toward him. "How easily you gave him control, Jedi. How foolish you must feel now, to have offered your allegiance so completely to one who sought only to control you through lies and limitations."
Confusion and doubt ripped at Luke's mind as conflicting emotions raged, fuelled by that flash of knowledge in the Force, that future echo. Adrenaline pushed him to act, to shout, to defend those accused--but deeper fears whispered betrayal and suspicion, chaos paralyzing his muscles.
"They didn't seek control," he finally whispered, as much to himself as to Palpatine. "They didn't..."
The Emperor only nodded, quietly but with chilling surety. "You know that they did. No matter what words pass your lips, my friend, I know what is in your heart."
As he spoke, the Sith walked slowly behind Luke's seat, pale hands trailing over the fine silk on his shoulders. Luke wrenched away in denial of the empty sophistries offered by the Emperor, who only smiled in reply.
"I can understand your discomfort, child. It is a hard thing, to admit that one was deceived, one's loyalty misplaced. And yet so easily correctable...if one has the strength."
"There's nothing to correct," Luke held, unable to stop himself from replying. He tried so hard to hold silent, to remain detached from Palpatine's accusations, but had been drawn in again despite his best efforts. He could see it happening, yet was completely unable to stop himself.
"You have been given a rare gift, child, that of clarity. It is given to so few; do not waste it."
Luke remained silent, still trying to process that moment of cruel veracity within the Force, the absolute certainty that he would one day volunteer Master Yoda's hiding place to the loathsome, manipulative Sith who stood behind him now. Truly volunteer, of his own volition--not under duress or coercion. He knew this now--knew it. Master Yoda had maintained that the future remained in flux, difficult to resolve except by proximity, yet that burst of Force-induced realization seemed chillingly undeniable.
A fixed event, just as Palpatine had claimed. Were there others? Was his fate just as inevitable?
.
.
Seeing that doubt play across is Jedi's face Palpatine pushed on as he walked around the boy's chair, giving no time for deliberation, hand brushing against the boy's where it rested on the table, nails dragging delicately across his skin, subtly breaking his train of thought. "How wonderful to see one's own future, if only for a fraction of a second. It has clarified for you in one instant what I could have wasted a thousand words trying to explain."
"I will not betray him."
"You know that's not true; you know you will betray him. You heard the truth, whispered in the Force. Yes...retribution. How good it will feel, to repay those who used you so callously."
Palpatine slowed to a stop, gazing into the raging fire, his voice quiet and sure. "It is inevitable; you have stayed destiny's hand long enough, child. Now it wants payment for the power it has given you--the power it has given your bloodline. And the price is invariably the same. Your father's fate is your own, it always was. Destiny, my friend, will not be cheated."
"I don't...believe..."
Oh, but how uncertain that voice was now. How precarious that previously unshakable faith.
The vision, that wonderful instant of absolute clarity, had gifted Palpatine with an incredibly persuasive coercion. Both for the boy and for himself. He had never doubted, of course; had always believed he could control Skywalker-- should control him--but despite his claims, this was the first confirmation that he would, sounding in a clear note which had reverberated through the Force, perception beyond sight, conviction beyond doubt.
And everything that it gave to Palpatine, it took from the boy.
Skywalker shook his head slowly, torn by uncertainties. He opened his mouth to speak but could drag nothing from the turmoil of confusion which screamed within. "I..."
So close, so close to this intoxicating frenzy of raging emotions, Palpatine could only whisper, his voice hoarse. "There are no words left, my friend. Only the truth...and the Darkness."
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.
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Waiting patiently for her master in the wide hallway outside Skywalker's quarters, Mara Jade bowed low as he emerged. He passed her without a sideways glance, still immersed in his triumph and the boy's loss of faith--not in his allies, but in something far more important; himself.
As she fell into silent pace a step beside him, he slowed, sensing...something. Some crosscurrent of emotion...
She was in some way affected by this, he could sense that much from her. By the task she had been given. But then she was always frustrated when she had to remain in the Palace; he had trained her to be a creature of action, to travel throughout his Empire and carry out his bidding, able to hear and communicate with him through the Force, his eyes, his ears, his will...
He frowned slightly; was that it? Was it within her ability to sense Skywalker within the Force? He had taught her to hear his voice, but she had never heard Lord Vader--though she had never tried, the two remaining wary adversaries, just as Palpatine liked it. But could she now hear the Jedi? And if she did...why?
--Do you hear him, my servant? --
She frowned at her Master. "Hear him?"
--The Jedi; as you hear me, now?--
She looked at her master for long seconds... "No master. I hear nothing."
Wary, he looked into her soul, searching for a lie. But at this proximity all he could sense was his Jedi, that burst of raw power hypnotic even in the misery of despair, burning all lesser lights away so that Jade was instantly forgotten.
It was irrelevant anyway; she would play her part obediently. She always had.
Palpatine walked on and Jade resumed pace beside him, her vague, dim sense in the Force only making him desire the power that Skywalker embodied all the more. It should be he who walked obediently one step behind his Master now, not Jade. Not even Vader, not anymore. The boy's resistance only fired Palpatine's desire to defeat, to subdue--to own.
Yes, the boy was far better trained than he had anticipated, but certainly not yet beyond reach; the Force had assured him of that.
Though that did not mean that Palpatine had an easy task ahead. Skywalker would somehow come to terms with the unexpected vision, would likely try to rationalize it away somehow. He was nothing if not obstinate. Even if he couldn't, even if he knew it to be the truth, he would still fight. That too was in his blood. He would resist because he believed he was right, and he still foolishly believed that such irrelevancies bought him some kind of immunity from the reach of Darkness. He would resist because he believed it was necessary--because Kenobi and Master Yoda would have drilled into him the importance of even the smallest slip. He would resist because of his friends, believing their pious, insignificant opinions to be his own. He would resist simply because he knew this was what Palpatine wanted, and he resented being caged here, being manipulated by him.