He walked to the tall carved double-doors at the far side of the bedroom, which swung open without visible aid as he neared them. Through the cavernous withdrawing room without a single glance; through the echoing emptiness of the dark hall beyond, whose tall doors were open to him for the first time now, and out into the main corridor which he had only once before seen.
Without looking about himself, he walked its length to a receiving room close to the entrance, whose tall carved doors were open in anticipation. Glancing briefly to the main entrance and the Palace beyond, he turned away and entered the room whose high, vaulted ceilings flickered as shadows danced in the fluid firelight.
The Emperor stood before a bank of tall, narrow windows, his back to the room, staring out into the implacable fury of the night storm beyond. He stirred and turned just slightly, expectant.
Walking the length of the hall toward the Emperor, Luke Skywalker stepped down onto one knee before his Master, head bent, eyes to the floor.
.
.
.
To be continued...
.
Chapter 21
.
.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
.
.
.
Mara Jade returned late into the night, landing on the expansive, polished black landing platform of the Palace roof, close to the SouthTower. It immediately reminded her of him--of the night he'd broken out. A small smile touched her lips at the memory of how easily he'd run riot through all the carefully-laid Palace defenses.
Her smile faded at the memory of what it had cost him. How she had simply walked away...don't think about that.
But that was all she seemed to be doing recently; thinking about him. It was easy to dismiss though, her just-completed mission having been so intrinsically linked to Skywalker, the second time she had performed the same exercise this year. That, of course, was why she was thinking of him now--that and no other reason.
Filling her mind with a hundred pointless thoughts rather than acknowledging the single one that was in her mind, Mara entered the Tower, still buzzing with life even at this hour. The Imperial Palace never slept--like the Empire, it existed around the clock, a strange, heightened reality completely isolated from the one which existed outside these impregnable walls. One could live one's whole life here, never once venturing beyond the sprawling, monolithic bulk of the Main Palace, if one so desired. Many lesser civil servants and Palace staff did just that, required by mandate to remain within the Palace grounds as long as they served the Emperor, whole communities and infrastructures building up, level on level, within the Main Palace below.
The Towers themselves provided exclusivity strictly for the elite of the Emperor's staff, granting select accommodation for the privileged few. Workspace, ceremonial halls and assembly chambers, both official and informal, were carefully allotted on a preferential basis to military and planetary leaders, leading diplomats, system representatives and of course, the Royal Houses.
Despite the late hour, Mara knew absolutely that Court would still be in session, and that her master would expect her immediate attendance.
She made her way smoothly through the Tower, pausing at all the usual checkpoints, caught unawares by a few new ones. But then she'd been away nearly four months--almost as long as Lord Vader--so it was no real surprise that security changes were in effect, as her master was never less than vigilant in such things.
It was their type and placing that was of interest to Mara; not the usual, obvious sites--entrances and purpose-built guardrooms--but natural bottlenecks and blind curves, easily defendable points. And plain-clothes guards--Mara's trained eye could spot them easily, milling about with Palace staff, watching rather than checking ID's, and always a second bottleneck around the next corner after a checkpoint, a crossfire between which any intruder would be caught with no cover and could be fired on without danger from either checkpoint. Less military-training and more like guerrilla warfare, Mara reflected.
Definitely a new security officer in the Palace. She narrowed her eyes at that, mentally running through the most recent collection of the Imperial officers clambering for promotion. She could name at least a dozen off-pat, though none would have created this kind of security profile.
.
Lost in thought, considering who her new rival would be--her master always liked to keep his high-ranking staff in opposition one way or another--Mara continued up to the tenth level, where Court would be in effect.
She passed through three new security stops before entering the Attendant's Hall, full of noise and color, her own plain black one-piece drab by comparison. But not without a reference as to her own standing, which ensured her a few curious glances as she made her way through the gathered throngs.
People spent years of their lives whispering promises and secrets in this Hall, making pacts and alliances, without once gaining entry to the coveted Throne Room beyond. Mara too had spent years of her life in countless disguises wandering this room, listening for her master. Automated personal jamming and counter-surveillance devices were rife in this hall of whispers, so that the only reliable way to actually gain information was to walk among those who were all too eager to barter it for the slightest chance of recognition in Court.
She walked quickly through them now, recognizing many, recognized by only a few, and they too shrewd to pass such information on.
At the tall double doors which hung floor to ceiling she paused, nodding at the Royal Guards who kept a constant vigil here, whether the Emperor was 'En Court' or not. She didn't bother to do anything more; her presence would have been noted as she came down the high-security corridors, permission sought as she entered the Attendant's Hall. If her master required her, she would be admitted. If not, then she would wait.
.
The tall doors swung open, many heads turning back to view the new entry to Court, squinting at the light which streamed into the oppressive, darkened room, its rich gold walls glowing, incandescent beneath this burst of light.
Mara set smoothly forward into the gloom, walking towards the raised dais at the head of the cavernous hall on which was placed her master's throne, set upon an inlaid half-circle of pale terassotti marble, its mirror-half set into the floor before the dais to form a completed circle. A remnant of the destroyed Jedi Temple, it had always reminded Mara of a pale moon, a circle of deep cadmium red in its centre. Here her master would be holding Court from his precious Sunburst Throne, another centuries-old artifact appropriated from the decimated Jedi Temple.
The throne--his prized possession and the Jedi's much revered Seat of Prophesy--was a substantial, imposing piece, its backrest beaten and etched from a single piece of gold into the form of a massive beaten sun, whose edges flared out in faceted sunbursts from the ground behind him to well above Palpatine's head. Even here, the richly-worked opulence of the precious metal caught the faintest light to glow sublimely, rendered in exquisite detail at the Emperor's back.
Beneath his feet was the heavy iconic footrest he always used here; his feet never touched the floor but rested instead on a substantial form carved with a complex representation of the galaxy he ruled, the inference hardly subtle.
Mara walked forwards without a sideways glance, her eyes and her attention only for her master. She was five steps from the dais when her stride faltered...
Standing tall and straight just behind and to the side of the throne, expression passive, hooded eyes intent on her, was Skywalker.
He wore a dark, plain suit fastened to the side in military style but with neither rank nor insignia, the fabric and cut flawless, perfectly fitted, lending an air of indifferent affluence, of casual, confident association.