"It's okay, Mara." He turned his head slightly, his voice very quiet, for her alone.
"Shut up!" she whispered vehemently, unsure why this was affecting her so much. It wasn't fear, it was...she blinked away the frustration of conflicting emotions, trying not to think about it.
The needle slid into his vein, a mist of scarlet feeding back into it before she injected it quickly, feeling his muscles begin to relax seconds later. His other arm went to the wall in front of him to steady himself as he began to lose consciousness, tense body slackening as his breath began to slow.
Not sure why, Mara took his arm as she pulled the needle free, supporting his weight so that they slid gently to their knees together, the light in his eyes dimming as he lost focus.
"Why do you trust me?" She whispered it urgently, in that moment needing desperately to know.
He smiled gently, but he was already beginning to fade as she took his loose head, holding his gaze on hers. "Why?!"
"I see...past...your ..."
But his eyes were already closed, so she lowered him to the floor, leaning back to crouch on her haunches at arm's distance.
Remembering where she was, she glanced up at the watching guards. "Out. Return to your posts. I'll make a report to the Emperor."
The guards filed from the room, muttering amongst themselves as they glanced at the shattered plasteel, unsettled. The mysterious prisoner suddenly had an ability which previously very few had known. Even of those who knew, Mara knew from sudden experience that to be told what someone was and to have it proven before their eyes were two very different things. The presence of a Jedi among them made everyone distinctly uneasy.
Watching him breathe, unaware of the guards' departure or the passage of time, she rocked on her heels.
How had he done this? How had he slipped past her every defense?
Uneasy emotions long-forgotten slowly smoldered at the edges of her thoughts, lit by the distant whisperings of his presence in the Force. What did she feel? When she closed her eyes and sensed this scattered, indistinct resonance, what was tugging at her thoughts? Was this...empathy? Guilt? Why had he done it? Why was she letting him?
Alone now, an inarticulate sound hitched in her throat, half-sob, half-fury. Striking out, she caught him hard in his ribs with her fist, though she knew he couldn't feel it, laid awkwardly in unconsciousness.
"Fool!" she accused. "You're a fool to trust me, Luke Skywalker. This is what you get!" She lunged to her feet, staggering backwards, putting some distance, mental and physical, between them.
"I'll slip a knife between your ribs as soon as look at you. Remember that!"
She took two short steps forward, intending to land a vicious kick into his side, but stopped dead, unable to deliver the blow.
Aware that she was shouting at someone who couldn't hear her, she sternly gathered her wits about her and strode over his body without looking down, decisively shutting down that tiny, vulnerable part of herself which had so willingly attuned to this hypnotic, mesmerizing mind
She had no choice but to sense the Jedi's presence...but she could choose whether or not to listen.
She paused beside the shattered remains of the military-grade transparisteel sheet and ran her finger over its crazed surface, noting at this close range that many of the monofilaments had actually sheared through, fracturing completely under the force of that invisible blow. Realizing that a second blow would probably have broken the pane open completely.
She narrowed her eyes, lost in thought, for the first time afraid for her master.
"You worry too much, child."
Mara whirled in shock, her already shredded nerves cut to the quick. The Emperor walked calmly across the room to the window, reaching out his hand to the distended pane.
"What power he has." He smiled appreciatively, totally enthralled.
There had been other Jedi, of course, when Mara had been younger. But none like this.
The few who had escaped the scourging and found safety in the small Rebel groups who were littered around without any real organized resistance in the early years of the Empire. Fewer and fewer by the time she had gained her position as the Emperor's Hand.
But she remembered them, generally brought by Lord Vader to the Imperial Palace--to his Master. Like a predator bringing home the kill. They lasted a day, a few occasionally, before the Emperor destroyed them. Sometimes Mara had been summoned to witness their end, to understand the powers they held, what they were capable of, what could be done to counter them--what it was to be in the presence of a Jedi. Sometimes he gave them a weapon, sometimes he didn't. Often he gave them a lightsaber and turned Vader on them, an exclusive show for her master's personal amusement.
Some were more powerful than others; a few were little more than padawans, who fought with desperate passion. Others were Masters, who dueled and died with calm dignity, though Palpatine maintained that this was immaterial; in the end, they all died.
But none had held this power, or they would surely have thrown it against him in those last desperate moments. And none had ever held this power over her master, a driving obsession which blinded him to any danger.
She almost said it--almost spoke her fears out loud. Almost asked if Skywalker was a threat.
But she held her tongue, knowing her master would see that as a questioning of his own abilities, and that would have been intolerable.
Palpatine pulled his hand sharply from the shattered pane, a tiny drop of scarlet forming on the tip of his bone-white finger.
Mara stared at the drop, ruby red against pale white, deeply disquieted by the sight; it occurred that she had never once before seen her master bleed.
That dark droplet of blood against his pallid skin pulled her consciousness toward an enveloping, transcendental stillness, as if time itself slowed then fell away...
.
.
.
... ... ...
Something...something closed in, like a storm raging against the night, dark clouds obliterating the moonlight.
Duplicity, betrayal...loyalties challenged, allegiance resolved. Everything in flux, erratic.
Everything changing, even herself. Nothing could remain untouched, destiny itself yielding...
Blood red sun, cold as death. It split momentarily and went binary in her blurred vision, the silence whispering riddles...
'Son of Suns...'
The sky turned dark and the sun faded to a pallid moon and she heard-- felt--something wild and primal at bay in the pitch of night, like a wolf prowling in the shadows...
The ashen moon seared blood red again, a single scarlet drop falling from the heavens to land at her master's feet, soaking into the hem of his long, sable cloak...
...The moment, that single instant stretched taut...
A vast sweep of possibilities tangled about and among each other, all futures circling that one moment.
One decision, one inflexible will.
The weakness which is a strength...
... ... ... ... ... ... ...
...
.
.
.
The howl of a wolf in the darkness threw her back as she jolted, reality snapping back in about the surreal vision.
.
"What did you see?" Her master's voice was instant, demanding.
Mara shook her head slowly--whatever it was, it had evaporated into the ether, like waking from a dream. "I saw..." She struggled to bring any memory of the vision back, but only one thing remained, burned into her memory like the after-image of staring at the sun too long. "...A wolf... A wolf in the shadows...hunting."