When Han died (it seemed like so long ago already), the knowledge had hit him all at once. It was different with Leia though; he sensed, as if it were inside himself, organs dying, slowing, and he waited, head in his hands, for the longest minutes of his life while a strand in the force shivered and cried out before curling into itself and dissapating into nothing.
This new emptiness was vast. They'd been linked since birth, and for the first time he searched his soul clearly, without a bright presence spreading from his sister to himself: lining him, bonding them together.
The Emperor was approaching his room. For some reason, Luke wasn't angry or hungry for revenge--he simply felt dead, and he slumped like marionette with torn strings on his bed as his master walked in. A coldness spread throughout his chest with his arrival, and though Luke knew it was the dark side he welcomed it. Anything was better than than the emptiness. Anything.
"It's unfortunate, Skywalker," his master said, then sat down beside him on the mattress. It was unusual--an even playing field. "That her life ended. Our forces were unaware of the dangers lurking on our own ship!" An angry sneer took hold of his features. "The rebels poisoned your sister. They thought she would leak information--many were aware that it was her close connection with Alderran that destroyed the planet."
"Why?" They would not do that. "Why not free her?" Is he lying? But Luke could not penetrate the Emperor's sheilds, and knew that his master would notice an attempted invasion.
The anger on Palpatine's face faded, overtaken by a look of amusement--for a moment he appeared fond of Skywalker, somewhat grandfatherly even, and Luke clung to that small bit of approval. "Oh, you are naive still, my lad. Would they lose their entire fleet on a lost attack on this Death Star for one girl? You don't know who assumed command in your absence. It is customary for the rebels to take their lives rather than leak information about the alliance... perhaps they had to enforce that protocol."
Luke curled his fingers around his sleeves--black fabric, everything was black and gray here. "How do you know?"
"... Did you feel her being poisoned?"
Then Luke remembered the coldness stinging his arm and spreading black through to his heart, and felt her give in. Why did she just give in? (Like Ben, Like Vader?) "Yes I felt it."
The Emperor nodded somewhat empathetically. "As did I."
A silent moment passed in which Luke thought that asking if his master had a hand to play in her death wasn't justified, really. Why would he put in so much effort to preserve her life (even halting an attack months in planning!) to simply kill her off? "Did you catch them? The rebels," he spat with new hatred. Her blood on their hands.
"It was a droid in the kitchens. It was terminated, of course, but I apologize that we didn't apprehend the real culprits."
The void in Luke's heart was filling, second by second--anger and revenge, and suddenly he didn't feel quite so alone; beside him was an ally in his plans. "The Alliance shall be destroyed," he said, and felt (for the first time in a month) like he had a sense of direction--purpose. "I'll lead a rebel attack," he said. For her.
The Emperor smiled, then put his hand on skywalker's shoulder. "That, I can help you with."
Why did Vader give in?
One month ago, lying injured on metal slats, stars in view behind his son, Anakin eyes the lightsaber in Luke's white-knuckeled grip. He was acutely aware of his master in the room; he knew that if Luke refused to kill him the Emperor would end the boy's life.
He felt, in between falling and the final blow (for time seemed to stretch), a stinging sense of betrayl--his master would not mourn his death. But the anger that filled him then (and had filled him all his life) fell away when he realized that he could not move and found himself thinking, "Strike me down."
And wasn't it ironic that the dying thought of the most feared man in the galaxy was: "Better me than my son." So he went willingly towards death, because after so many years of searching he was holding a purpose--"Live, Luke."
Then a lightness wrapped around Anakin as he finally found his peace.
"I'm sorry, Master Yoda. You were right. The boy should not have been trained in the ways of the force."
"Told you I did! Too much like his father. Lost, now."
"It is never too late. Even Vader found the light side, in the end."
"But too late! And it will be too late for Luke too."
"I'm sorry."
"Apologies--Obi-Wan, always wading in regret. Watch, is all we can do now. And pray."
As the two spirits eyed the last Skywalker, another presence joined them.
"Welcome back, Anakin."
