The cold shell forming around Leia cracks slightly at Luke's agreeing to join her, at his lack of hesitation. He's better than she is in so many ways. Kinder, to be certain. A bit of his warmth and light filters in through the fractures and thaws some of the ice in her chest.
She grabs his wrist and drags him through the crowded street, dodging and side-stepping commuters who eye her mussed Imperial garb with interested curiosity. There's a large landing platform nearby, one with space for at least a dozen airspeeders. Leia stops beside one of them. She doesn't know the make or model, but so long as it flies it should work for her needs. Her hands twitch at her side as she realizes she has no idea what to do.
She turns to her brother. "Do you know how to hotwire a speeder?"
"Do I-" Luke is overcome by a fit of laughter that draws the attention of a few passersby. "No, Leia, I don't know how to hotwire a speeder. I was a moisture farmer, not a pirate."
Leia groans. She doesn't know how to either. She adds it to her mental list of useful skills to learn, though fat lot of good that does her now.
Han would know. She's certain of that. If he were here they'd have no trouble at all. They'd already be in the air, likely, depending on how long those sorts of things generally take. He wanted to be here, had insisted he come, but Leia had forced him into unconsciousness using a power she only half understands. Guilt prickles at the edges of her eyes. Should she go back for him?
Time is ticking, girl, someone breathes in her ear sending shivers down her spine. She whirls around, fisting the hilt at her side, but no one is there. Perhaps they disappeared into the crowd, but why had they said that? Why had the sound of their voice sent icy flames licking up the back of her neck? Are she and Luke being watched?
"Come on," she grabs Luke's shirt and pulls him along, desperate to get away from whomever or whatever that was. "Do you think we can - with the Force?"
"Do I think we can what with the Force?" Luke calls back, nearly tripping over his own feet in an effort to keep up with her as she drags him toward the next vehicle.
"Hotwire a speeder!" She hisses through gritted teeth.
"I don't know, is that something you all covered after I left Dagobah, because Father definitely didn't teach me that." His voice drips with sarcasm and Leia's nails dig little bloody crescent moons into the meat of her palms. "How are we getting to the Palace, anyway? Do you know where those tunnels Father was talking about are?"
"No," Leia says with a twinge of regret. Knowing the location of those tunnels would be incredibly useful, and not just for her current purposes. If the Alliance knew about them… considerations for another time. She pokes her head through the open window of another speeder, her eyes scanning the seats for an ignition chip or, possibly, the knowledge of how to get it running without one. She's still not sure how she knew how to knock Han out with the Force, but such a divine transfer of information would certainly come in handy now. "I don't."
She reaches out with the Force. Her control over it still feels shaky, at best, but she tries to wrap her influence around the speeder's engine. Using the basic knowledge gleaned from helping Alliance mechanics repair ships between council meetings, she tries to coax the vehicle into turning on. She curses under her breath when nothing happens and pulls Luke along to the next.
"So what's your plan?" Luke asks, an incredulous laugh escaping him. It stokes Leia's ire more than it should and she tamps it down before speaking again. She needs to get her emotions under control. A feat easier said than done, it would seem.
"Right now? Procure a speeder and get to the Palace." She breathes slowly through her mounting frustration as the next speeder she comes across proves not worth her time. What are they going to do? They need transportation. She's not quite sure where, exactly, in the city they are, but she's familiar enough with the Imperial Plaza to know that they aren't necessarily close. "Ben and - and the others already have a head-start on us. We need to - damn it!" She cries, her anger taking over as yet another speeder refuses to succumb to her influence.
Before she even realizes what's happening, her fist collides with the durasteel door. She hisses as pain blooms sharply along her knuckles. Something inside of her claws for it, the pain, assures her that it is useful, but it's nearly too quiet to hear. She shakes her hand and notices that it's bleeding. She brings the split skin up to her lips to soothe the sting.
"Leia," two hands, Luke's hands, close around her upper arms. She jolts at the contact and Luke narrows his eyes in concern. "Are you alright?"
Yes, I'm fine. The lie stops at her lips, half-formed. It would be easy to tell but impossible to believe. She settles on the truth instead. "No," she shakes her head. "I'm really not."
Luke frowns. "Maybe we should go back." His eyes drift from her to a point just over her shoulder back in the direction from which they had come. "This is a bad idea."
"No - No!" She pulls away from him. "I'm fine," the lie she'd so narrowly avoided telling slipping out anyway. It lands just as flatly as she'd imagined. "Please, Luke, I'm fine."
Her heart beats in her ears. Each pulse representing a second wasted, a moment that Ben is closer to certain death. They need to get moving, now.
"Leia," Luke begins again, his tone gentle, as though he were trying to calm a cornered animal. It sets Leia's skin on edge. "Something's really wrong. You're not well."
Leia takes a deep breath in and holds it for a beat before exhaling slowly. She forces the vibrating in her bones to settle, wills her heart to slow. Calm is something she has struggled with obtaining in the past but now she feels as though she has to claw it from the cold hands of impossibility. When she refocuses on her brother, he hardly seems mollified by her efforts, his mouth still twisted into a disapproving frown.
Leia closes her eyes and concentrates on her breathing. In, out, in, out. When she opens her eyes again Luke is still staring at her, but he seems a bit more placated.
"I'm fine," she says slowly, her voice deceptively calm. She is not fine, but clearly Luke cannot know that. "I'm just very worried and am letting it get the best of me."
"I don't know. I have a really bad feeling about this, Leia."
"I know," she nods, keeping her movements fluid to hide how frantic she feels. Her hands long to twitch and shake but she forces them to remain still, and it feels nice, being in control of something.
You don't have much time.
"But we don't have much time."
Surely they are half-way to the palace already.
"They're probably half-way to the palace by now."
Perhaps they have already arrived. Perhaps they are dead on the floor because you wasted too much time.
No, that's not possible. It's too horrible and she thinks that, somehow, she would know. There would be a noticeable absence in the universe, in the Force, in her spirit that, for now, still feels full. She squeezes her eyes shut against the intrusive thought and the tears that accompany it. It's not too late. It can't be.
When she opens her eyes again, she sees it - an airspeeder idling on the landing pad of a store-front nearby. She knows that on Coruscant, like most planets, this is a parking violation, but the likelihood of the driver receiving a notice, or ticket, or even a warning is significantly decreased by the Imperial insignia emblazoned on both of the speeder's doors and hood.
Leia beams, and it's the first genuine smile she's felt in some time. "Luke, look!" She points over his shoulder. His shoulders stiffen when he turns to look at it, clearly not seeing it for the opportunity that it is. "Come on!" She grabs his wrist and pulls him along behind her.
"Force, Leia, what do you think you're doing?"
"Getting us to the Palace!" She tightens her grip on his arm when he tries to yank it away.
"That's an Imperial speeder!"
"Exactly," Leia turns her head for a moment to stress the word and nearly barrels head-long into the back of a male Yuzzum, startling him and causing him to drop his crunchy wog clusters onto the walkway at his feet. She ignores the slew of curses that follow her as she weaves further into the ever-densening crowd. "So it will have access to palatial airspace. It's perfect."
"Is it?" Luke sounds thoroughly unconvinced, but Leia knows palaces and regulations better than he does by a parsec, so she is not concerned with his lack of conviction.
Sidling up to the speeder, she does not hesitate before throwing the passenger-side door open and sliding inside, dragging a physically protesting Luke in behind her. It's only a two-seater, so she and her brother are left with very little personal space. She slams the door closed behind her and engages the lock, trapping them all inside of the vehicle, which might be foolish, but will also prevent any interruptions from outside intruders.
The driver gapes at her in shock before shaking it off and glaring. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Leia takes a deep breath, buying herself a bit of time before responding. Thinking quickly, she draws her shoulders upward and plasters on her best 'princess-face'. "Take us to the Palace." It is not a request but a command, one made to sound as if there is no other option but to comply. Neither is it a threat, at least not directly so. She fills it with as much regal influence as she can.
"What? No!" The driver laughs, incredulous.
Luke rubs one hand down the length of his face and sighs deeply before leaning around Leia to look the driver dead in the eye. He lets his one raised hand hover in the air in front of his face, his pinky and ring finger curled in lazily towards his palm.
"You will take us to the Palace." He insists. Leia feels a wave of energy in the Force accompanying his words.
The driver blinks rapidly a few times, seemingly confused, before shaking his head. "No, I won't. Who do you kids think you are?"
"I am -" Leia stops as she considers how best to answer that question. 'Princess Leia Organa' would be a mistake, the name too closely tied to the Rebellion. She hears the words more than she says them, her voice belonging to someone else, perhaps belonging to the person she claims to be in this moment. "I am Lord Vader's daughter." She says coolly and it is not a lie.
"Lord Vader?" The driver's eyes narrow in suspicion. Leia can almost see what he is thinking, how he doesn't believe that Lord Vader has any children. She sees, too, how he questions his own belief. How he wonders just how much he actually knows about the Sith Lord. He reaches for something on his left side, the one Leia can't see from her position on his right. A blaster, most likely.
"Don't." She orders. His hand stills, though not by his own control. He looks between his frozen appendage and Leia with wide eyes. "You should take us to the Palace now."
He nods and slowly shifts the speeder out of its idling state and raises it into the air. He watches her and Luke out of the corner of his eye as he reaches for the comm on the vehicle's main dash. Leia unclips her lightsaber from her belt and sets it casually in her lap. This is a threat.
"I would not do that if I were you." She says, staring straight ahead, refusing to look either at the driver or at her brother. She can't face either of them right now. She places one hand atop the hilt of her weapon, her thumb resting on the ignition switch. "Both hands on the wheel."
The speeder rises higher, breaking through the lower layers of the city and emerging in the open air of night. Leia's stomach grows heavier with every meter they rise, both with guilt and something far more excited that she refuses to name or acknowledge.
She recognizes this part of the city vaguely, though so much of the planet blurs together for her in a mass of durasteel and twinkling lights. They're not far off the Imperial Plaza now. She can see the Senate Dome from here - the former Senate Dome.
A single braid lays heavily on her shoulder and she thumbs the end of it unconsciously, a nervous habit. Alderaan is a peaceful planet now, but it has not always been. Like almost every other civilization they have found themselves caught in both galactic confrontations and smaller civil skirmishes alike. So many of the traditions of that time have been lost or are remembered only in texts and songs and stories. Some have lasted though, persevered through the changes of time. The plait she wears now, the one she had woven into her hair back upon Vader's ship, is the closest approximation to a declaration of war that she knows.
Then, the braid had been merely symbolic, a promise to both herself and Vader that she would never stop fighting him. She had not known how literal its meaning would become, or who the declaration would be against, but though she is woefully unprepared and undertrained, she feels ready for battle. Emperor Palpatine will die today.
Something inside of her laughs at that promise, the sound cold even in its amusement. It's that part of her she doesn't recognize, and she reaches for it, but it's gone before she can properly examine it. Maybe it's the Dark Side, taunting her and provoking her to doubt herself. She's not sure quite how it works, but Vader said that he had felt it in her and, though she would never admit I out loud, she doesn't think that he was lying.
Whatever it is, she will not let it win.
Pain. Burning, searing pain originating from a point in Han's side. What a wake-up call.
Han is up with a shout which dissolves into a hiss when he hits his head against the underside of the bunk above in his haste. He grabs for his blaster only to find the holster on his hip empty. Blinking slowly back into awareness, he takes in his surroundings. He's definitely in the Falcon's crew cabins, Chewie and the two droids are waiting at the edge of his berth.
"What was that for?" He sits up slowly and runs a hand through damp hair to feel the knot forming at the top of his skull. "Why am I wet? What the hell is going on?"
Chewie hands him back his blaster and explains that they weren't able to wake Han up any other way - which is strange for a few reasons. He's always been a fairly deep sleeper, but he'd like to think that having water thrown in his face would be enough to wake him up. He tries to think back to what he'd been doing before falling asleep, but his mind is all fuzzy like he'd had just a few too many the night before - only, he hadn't been drinking at all. He's been on the Falcon since escaping Vader's ship, Vader, who escaped with them and took Ben off to kill the Emperor. Han was with Leia and they were - they were going to go after him, their son. He looks down at the now soaked jacket pooled in his lap, hair dripping in his eyes.
"Leia!" He growls, standing and pushing past the droids. He knows she won't be here, but he tears through each of the ship's holds looking anyway. A chorus of beeps and growls follows him, all explaining what he already knows. She's gone.
"Damn it!" The hand fisted around the jacket collides with the wall of the ship's main corridor. "Damn it, Leia." He repeats quietly, cradling the throbbing hand close to his chest. He's probably broken it, because of course he would do something that stupid now, but he doesn't particularly care in this moment.
Both she and Luke are gone, according to Chewie.
"Well, I think we all know where they're headed." Han grumbles.
"No, Master Han, I haven't the foggiest idea."
He shoots a glare at the protocol droid. "Well, of course I wasn't talking about you, bolts-for-brains!"
"I'm not sure that was quite necessary," with a sigh, Han wonders if all protocol droids are programmed with the ability to sound so affronted, or if this droid's maker was just especially cruel. "Do you, Artoo?"
If Goldenrod gets an answer, Han doesn't hear it. He's already halfway to the cockpit by the time the droid gets the question out and he's already begun a messy and haphazard pre-flight check by the time Chewie joins him. The Wookiee places a med-kit on the console between them and Han eyes it for just a fraction of a second before unceremoniously sweeping it onto the pilot's seat.
"Don't have time for that." He mutters lowly. He pauses his preparations for a moment to look at his friend. The Wookiee eyes him warily and Han doesn't care to ask what he's worried about. He probably already knows what Chewie'll say anyway. "You gonna help me?"
There's a moment without motion, and it's not hesitation on the Wookiee's part, there's no consideration in Chewie's eyes and there was never any answer possible but the one he gives. He nods once solemnly and turns to his own half of the console.
"We're not too far off of the Palace now. If we hurry, we might be able to meet them there." Or beat them, though Han doesn't want to be too hopeful. He has no idea how long he was out for.
Negatively, Chewie grumbles that what Han says might be the case, provided they aren't shot down the second they cross into palatial airspace - which is a possibility, one so distinct a smarter man might call it an inevitability.
Damn it! His good hand slams into the console below - not hard enough to break it or anything else this time. Despite popular belief, Han does always attempt to learn from his mistakes. It's usually remembering those lessons in the heat of the moment that proves to be a problem.
He's not someone who has ever done too much planning. It's not that he doesn't put stock in it or recognize it as an objectively good thing to do, he's just never had much patience for it. When something needs to get done it should get done now. Whatever consequences he faced for his hastiness were things to be dealt with after. But then it was just his life on the line, well, his and Chewie's but the Wookiee is a fully grown being capable of making his own decisions - not that Ben and Leia aren't as well…
Think, Solo, think! This is a delicate situation, and he can't go in guns blazing - at least not alone.
He reaches down and grabs the ship's hand-held transceiver and dials the comm code he'd memorized before leaving Home One.
"Leia, is that you?" The voice on the other end asks.
"No, it's Solo."
"Solo?" The disappointment in Bail Organa's voice is unmistakable. "Where is my daughter?"
"Actually, Organa, that's why I commed…"
"We need to go!" Ben reiterates, preparing himself to forcibly move his grandfather if necessary. "Both of you need to let this go for now."
"Perfectly fine by me." Vader says, his posture relaxing very slightly. "I am not the one who insists on digging up the past without reason."
Ben frowns. Something that he's learned in the past months is that there is a difference between letting the past die and burying it, between letting go of the things that hurt you and storing them in the darkest recesses of your soul, becoming a hoarder of pain and misery. That is a lesson his grandfather either has yet to learn or refuses to acknowledge. With what he knows of the man, Ben would bet on the latter.
He is about to shoulder past the Sith when Vader turns abruptly and resumes walking down the remaining length of the tunnel.
"What's the plan?" Rey asks, breaking the tense silence. "What can we expect from the Emperor?"
"Sidious is a master of Sith lightning," Vader explains without stopping or turning around. "And is incredibly powerful. Even the act of blocking an attack can prove deadly if his concentration remains unbroken. Distraction will be the key to any victory we hope to achieve. You and my grandson will prove integral on that front, the strength of your bond should prove distraction enough for a while, at least. I cannot imagine he will be able to resist it."
Their bond used as a distraction? "We will not be used as bait." Ben grits.
"Did I say 'bait'? I do not recall that." Vader responds casually. "I am merely answering the girl's question. Your connection is powerful and will be a distraction whether it is something we choose to use or not. Foolishly, I assumed you would like to be prepared." Vader continues on when Ben finds nothing to say. "Tano and I will have to press the advantage as soon as the opportunity presents itself. The two of you did something on Bespin, blew your connection wide open. Is that something you can replicate?"
"Yes." Rey responds quickly, almost as if she is denying Ben the chance to verbally spar with his grandfather again. "Would it be easier if we did that on a signal of some kind? So that you and Ahsoka could be ready."
"Yes, I suppose that would be for the best. On my signal –" Vader stops abruptly. They've reached the end of the tunnel but Ben's grandfather makes no move to push or slide open whatever secret entrance obscures the other side. It only takes Ben a moment to realize why.
"Where does this tunnel empty out?" Ben asks, his grip around the hilt of his stolen blade tightening. "Who is on the other side?"
"To a currently unused storeroom and I do not know." There's a calmness to Vader's voice that does not match the intensity his presence in the Force.
The concealed doorway swings open and it's unclear if it is by Vader's actions or someone else's, but there's not much time left to worry about that as Ben and the rest of the group take in the six red-clad imperial guards awaiting them on the other side. He and Rey huddle close, her back pressing to his while Vader and Ahsoka brandish their weapons, preparing for a fight.
Eight Praetorian guards had been a challenge for just himself and Rey, primarily because they were so vastly outnumbered, but just six of them against four trained Force-users? That is a completely different story. Where is the Emperor? Why would he send only a portion of his guards to combat his own apprentice when he knows exactly what Vader is capable of? It's almost an insult.
"Does Sidious really think that this will be enough to stop us?" Ben asks, surveying the scene, deciding which opponent would be the best to focus the majority of his attention on first.
"No," Vader answers simply, stepping forward once into the mostly-empty room. The guards prepare for their own attack, weapons and armor clattering in a flurry of movement. "This is a distraction."
Luke hardly notices the shimmering lights of the city flying by, his attention shifting between his hands and his sister. Leia is no longer looks like she is on the edge of breaking down, her presence in Force is no longer vibrating with anxiety and misery and anger and fear - in fact, its agonizingly quiet. It reminds him a bit of her reaction to learning their true parentage, the cold, calm mask she'd worn for her father then matches the one she dons now. It would also seem that she's figured out how to spread it over her emotions because he feels almost nothing from her now.
Only the faint twitching of her fingers on the hilt of her lightsaber give away what she must really be feeling. Luke groans quietly and his forehead hits the speeder's transparisteel window. What is he doing right now? Force, why did he think this was a good idea?
He wonders if he should reach out to his father, if that would help or, somehow, worsen the situation. It would probably make it worse, honestly. Every single decision Luke makes these days seems to lead to nothing but disaster.
Still, he feels like he should do something. He doesn't know what Leia expects when they arrive at the Palace, but he doubts that the Imperials are going to roll out the red carpet for them. And if Leia introduces herself as 'Lord Vader's daughter' again, they're bound to get laughed away, at best. At worst, they'll be looking down the business end of a stormtrooper's blaster.
He spends the ride in silence, thinking, planning, worrying, and by the time the speeder lands in front of the palace steps and the soft purr of the engine dies, he's come up with nothing.
In the months since he left Tatooine, Luke has seen a vast array of climates, terrains, and buildings – more than he would have ever imagined existing on his own. The palace on Alderaan had been grand in both scale and design. His father's fortress was imposing, wrapped in shadows and flame. The Imperial Palace, however, is a beast all its own. It is large, there's no two ways around that, and the two great banners that line the arched doorway at the top of an intimidating number of stairs add an air of malevolent majesty.
The palace's exterior is not what gives him pause at the base of the structure, though. No, it is the thick, angry Darkness that exudes from the building itself, seeping into the air and coiling around the city. It is so distracting, so all-consuming in its magnitude that Luke doesn't sense his sister exiting the airspeeder behind him, doesn't notice that she's left his side until she is already ascending the palace steps, back rigid and fist curled around the hilt of her weapon.
The staircase itself is lined with stormtroopers, and Luke eyes them warily as he chases after Leia, but none of them move a muscle.
"Leia, stop!" He hisses, struggling to keep up with her pace. She doesn't turn to look at him, her focus set heavily on the doorway above. She doesn't stop, though he hadn't really imagined that she would. "This is insane!" He pleads with her, his voice squeaking in a way that would be embarrassing were he not so desperate to get her to listen.
Leia says nothing, pressing on as if Luke had not spoken at all.
A nervous-looking woman awaits them at the top of the steps, her eyes shifting between Leia's tightly-clenched weapon and her flinty stare. "Princess Leia," the woman hesitates a moment before dipping her head into a shallow bow, almost as though she wonders if she ought to or not. "His Imperial Majesty has been expecting you, follow me."
"He's what?" Luke cries but Leia is already following the strange woman through the rows of tall, thick columns that make up the building's grand entrance.
Luke fists his own lightsaber now. The Emperor has been expecting them? How is that possible? Why doesn't Leia seem confused, or even concerned? She holds head as high as ever, never seeming for a moment off-guard or out of place. Is this all a mask, a charade? What is she thinking?
The woman, who never introduced herself by a proper name, leads them to a set of large doors which are already thrown open wide and close heavily behind them the moment he and his sister cross the barrier into the room so drenched in Darkness, Luke thinks that it must be made of it.
The room is largely empty, save for a large throne constructed of rough, jagged stone – a stark contrast to the smoothness of the surrounding walls and floor. The grand seat is set upon a dais of six shallow stairs and flanked by two guards dressed in floor-length crimson robes, their faces obscured completely by helmets of the exact same shade. It is the figure sat upon the throne, however, that captures Luke's attention, that must capture the attention of every being in every room he's ever condemned with his presence.
Leia's steps do falter now, but only for a moment. She leads the charge, if what she and Luke are doing could truly be called that, towards the Emperor, but stops just before the dais, tilting her head upwards towards the cloaked figure curiously.
The Emperor's dark robes blend in almost seamlessly with the stone of his throne and the hood shadows his face, two burning yellow eyes the only distinguishable feature through the blackness.
"Princess Leia Organa," He croons, leaning forward ever so slightly. "What a pleasure it is to see you again. Though it is a shame our reunion falls under such inauspicious circumstances." Those eyes shift. Luke can feel them settling on him like a physical weight. "And young Skywalker - I have looked forward to our meeting for quite some time."
Luke gapes silently, his mouth going dry. This is not the reception he had expected. If Leia is as thrown as he is, she does not show it. She stands beside him, as still as a statue.
"I have heard so much about you as well, my spy networks have been positively buzzing. It's always difficult to discern fact from fiction when it comes to insurgencies, and I am not one to fall prey to idle gossip, but there is always a kernel of truth to these sorts of things, isn't there?" Luke has no idea what the Emperor is talking about and does not manage an answer. He swallows heavily when Palpatine shifts forward ever so slightly. "Tell me, are you the brave rebel who destroyed my battle station?"
Luke tries not to gasp, he really does, but the harsh intake of breath is completely involuntary. Of course the Emperor knows that. Luke shouldn't be surprised. He juts his chin out and straightens his shoulders even under the weight of the Emperor's gaze, because he is that brave rebel.
"I am." He says, shooting for defiance. "But I wasn't alone. My father helped me."
"Yes," the Emperor cackles, a terrible, broken sound. "My apprentice's loyalty has been wavering for some time now - and he thought that he could keep it hidden from me." The Emperor seems to take a perverse sort of joy in that. "Just as he believed he could keep the two of you a secret, or the fact that he is on his way here at this very moment to strike me down. A lack of foresight has always been one of Vader's greatest weaknesses, that and his inability to remember that I know everything."
"Then you must know why we're here." Leia says, her voice low.
"Yes," the Emperor agrees, sitting back again. "Yes, I do. I understand your motivations, of course, but I have to say that I am hurt."
"…Hurt?" Leia repeats, clearly confused.
"Yes, my dear girl, that you would wish me harm when all I want to do is help you."
Leia laughs. She actually laughs right in the face of the emperor of the entire galaxy. "Help me? What could I possibly want with your help?"
It's not an outright refusal, Luke notices, more of a request for further information – thought that is probably completely unintentional. He moves to protest against the Emperor's offer himself, bit finds himself frozen, his mouth glued shut. He can breathe and see and hear, but he might otherwise be made of stone.
"I could show you," the Emperor offers, "but I suspect you already know."
"I have no idea what you're talking about! I want nothing from you, nothing but to end the suffering you have inflicted upon the galaxy."
"And what about the suffering that the galaxy has inflicted upon you, my dear? Or, should I say, will inflict upon you?"
"Wh-what?" Luke can't see Leia in his periphery, but he feels and hears her take a step backwards, the sole of her boot slapping on the hard floor beneath.
"There's no need to play dumb, my dear girl, not when we both know that you aren't."
Luke struggles against the Emperor's hold on him, but it's no use. He tries to reach out to Leia, finding a similar connection to the one he shares with his father fluttering between them.
Leia, don't listen to him! He sends along the thread, but it is blocked by something that belongs to neither himself nor his sister.
None of that, now. The dark presence blocking the connection purrs. Your sister and I are having a conversation. It's rude to interrupt.
E chu ta! Luke thinks back.
My, my, Luke thinks he sees the Emperor smile under the shadow of his hood. Didn't your mother teach you any manners? The hold around Luke tightens slightly, blocking the passage of air into his lungs for a just a moment, a show of power and a threat rolled into one.
"You want to prevent the things that you've seen, which is only natural. Join me and I can help you."
"I don't need your help." Leia spits, but her voice lacks her usual confidence. "I don't want it."
"Leia, I know exactly what you've seen, and I know, as you do, that you alone cannot prevent it." The Emperor tuts. "What do you plan to do, love your son more? Do you truly believe that will be enough?"
"You don't know what you're talking about!" Leia shouts, her lightsaber igniting by her side, a flash of green in the corner of Luke's eye.
Leia! He tries again, but, again, the thought is blocked. He sends along a string of ever curse he knows, Huttese and otherwise, along to Palpatine. His outburst is met with only a low, cackling laugh buzzing at the base of his skull.
"But I do know." The Emperor's fingers claw over the edges of his throne's armrests. "Perhaps you might be easier to convince if I show you a bit of what I have seen?"