If he could make a Sith of his willful Jedi.
He watched dispassionately now, cold eyes appraising the boy as he struggled to wake against the drugs, broken arm clutched to him, splintered ankle bruised and swollen, face and body a mass of angry red welts and shallow cuts.
And yet he didn't yield. The boy was far better trained than Palpatine had expected--and certainly far more headstrong, tapping some as yet unbreached well of resolve, far too intractable to allow Palpatine a victory so easily, even with the drugs. But he was not yet beyond reach. And growing closer by the day.
.
.
Aware of Palpatine's eyes on him, Luke rolled over to his back, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in his ribs, the shooting shocks which still burned through bone and muscle alike, reminders of yesterday's confrontation.
Reminders that today's was yet to come. He slowly relaxed stiff, aching muscles, trying not to wince, though he knew it made no difference--Palpatine would know anyway.
Was this the way it would go now? Only ever woken to face his nemesis, so that from Luke's point of view, he faced his captor every waking hour, never any respite? Palpatine was looking to break him down, he knew--to chip at his resolve hour on hour, day on day, never any reprieve, never any time to gather his defenses. Never any time to heal--you know how this works, what he'll do...
In his already-fragile state, realization made Luke's heart flutter and his stomach churn, the split-second fear of a grinding decline into defeat looming, crushing in its consequences.
No. You will not give him victory this easily. If he wants control he'll have to drag it from you. You know how this works--how much is in the mind. Don't relinquish control.
He knew the game Palpatine was playing and what was at stake, though he had no idea how to counter it. No idea if it was even possible to do so...Luke broke the thought off by force of will, unwilling to think of the battle as already lost. Had his fa... had Vader faced exactly this choice once--this coercion? Ben had said he was a Jedi once.
Which begged the question--did he carry his father's weakness?
Or was Palpatine lying? If he was, then Luke couldn't detect the lie. But then the drugs kept his mind so still. Made it difficult to hold on to any thought.
He could call the Force to him and push them away, purge them from his system and clear his head momentarily, but he knew he couldn't sustain it, the self-replicating drug constantly pushing to regain the level it was designed to maintain, always persisting at the edge his consciousness, eager to crowd in. And every increment that it did, his hold on the Force was weakened, his concentration undermined, the precise, meticulous meditation required to heal himself shattered.
Luke focused his eyes again and dragged himself up to sitting, leaning against the wall to wait for the room to stop spinning...and realized that he was still watching the Emperor--that the Emperor was still watching him. That he was listening, intruding on Luke's private thoughts as if it were his right.
"It is," said Palpatine with absolute authority. "I told you, you are mine now."
A momentary flare of outrage ignited within him at Palpatine's words, burning past the drugs and the exhaustion. It gave him the focus to pull the Force to him, to construct a mental shield around his mind.
The Emperor's eyes narrowed, baleful stare hardening as his voice took on an edge. "Think carefully before you challenge me. I will stop you--you haven't the strength left to fight me."
For a second Luke hesitated, but his innate obstinacy kicked in again and fuelled his focus, so that he pushed Palpatine's hissing, malevolent presence from his mind, momentarily surprised by how easy it was--
The bolt of Force-lightening impacted against his chest, an incredible flare of blazing energy which threw his head back against the wall, its sustained burst lancing through him, locking his muscles and burning white-hot through body and mind alike....
When it finally stopped he collapsed forward with a gasp, though he made no other sound, grateful for the freezing cool of the blood-scuffed floor against his face. Vaguely, distantly, he was aware of Palpatine's push at his mind. Weakly, he pulled his thoughts back together into a shield--
He was flung back to impact against the wall behind him, the breath knocked from his lungs in a gasp as incredible pressure pushed in against them, holding them closed against his need to breathe so that his vision began to tunnel into darkness, chest heaving against the invisible weight crushing in against it, locked into this desperate struggle as reality blurred to a distant haze...
Some muted whisper called him to pull the Force about him, to turn it inwards...
The moment he focused the Force the pressure which bound his chest was gone and Luke lurched forward, dragging oxygen into burning lungs, unable to do anything more than breathe.
.
.
"I am uncertain what you expect to gain by this." Sitting casually ten foot away, Palpatine studied his Jedi, amused--energized even, by this fascinating war of wills. "Do you think you can indeed hold me out of your mind? You cannot and you never will. Do you think perhaps I will respect your defiant obstinacy? I desire nothing from you except obedience. Or perhaps you believe I will take pity on you and stop? Surely you know by now that I feel no such compassion. Tell me, Jedi, why do you fight when you know you can only lose?"
He smiled at the duality of his question, eyes intent on the boy. How weak this powerful creature could be, hobbled by the limiting rules inflicted upon it. He would show it power; he would break it free of them and bind it to him.
Terrified that he would turn as his father had, they had tried to keep the boy on too short a leash, but in doing so had bound him up so tightly with restrictions and rules that he could not fight back. The constraints they had sought to control him with would be the weaknesses which Palpatine would use to pry him from their paranoid grip. How poetic. When he held him body and mind, when he owned that wonderful, inflexible will, how his new Sith would appreciate the irony.
Eventually he stood and walked slowly towards the breathless, battered youth, driven to push him further, to goad a response from the boy simply so that he could retaliate again--re-establish his own dominance over this potentially dangerous creature.
.
.
Breathe. Just breathe.With monumental effort, Luke forced himself to hold a breath for a moment so that when he released it in a scarlet-speckled gasp, the muscles in his chest had coordinated and he finally forced air into his lungs and oxygen around his starved body, coughing against the pain.
The Emperor crouched before him, watching all this with dispassionate eyes, the slightest of self-assured, indulgent smiles touching his pale lips. "Well?"
"Go to hell."
Palpatine laughed, scornful and provocative. "Is that the best you can do? Is that all the fight you have in you? Poor little Jedi, words are no defense against me. Do you understand yet? Do you understand that there is no defense against this power, save to take it and use it as your own? That to beat me you will have to become me, for only Darkness can fight Darkness, only fire can fight fire. Either you take this Darkness and master it, or it will crush you and destroy you, then reshape and rebuild you as I see fit."
"No," was all Luke could push past gritted teeth and gasping breaths.
Palpatine clamped his hand on Luke's neck, hauling him upright with surprising force to push him back to the wall behind him, his weight on one leg. Battered and winded, he didn't have the strength to pull free as Palpatine leaned in, inches away.
"Then do your worst, Jedi. Stop me."
Luke froze mentally and physically, muscles locked against indecision. The Sith's goading words ignited a burning anger, and with it the promise of power enough to destroy this evil being. Easy power, asking only to be used, with no conscience or consequence to limit it. But he would not use Darkness to fight Darkness. Not because of Ben or Yoda's warnings, nor because of Palpatine's spurs and provocations, but because he knew...he knew in his heart that it was wrong.