The Dark Side of Skywalker

The Emperor's Death and the Rebel's Destruction

Anakin and Luke quietly travel throughout the Death Star, feeling their heartbeats racing as a darkness begins to seep into their very souls. The closer they get to the throne room of the emperor, the more this darkness grows, and the more their fear increases. Luke finds his hands slowly tracing the outline of his lightsaber, the metal being a calm reminder of his connection to the brilliant web of energy that is the Force, and that thought brings him comfort as he struggles to control his breathing for the task ahead. 

The walk takes well over five minutes. This is a dangerous mission, and by the time they reach the large doors leading into the emperor's menacing throne room, Luke finds himself shaking. Anakin has to force his hands down, feeling an overwhelming urge to place a comforting hand on his son's shoulder.

Not here, not now.

"It's all right, Luke," he whispers. "Trust in the Force."

Luke only nods and takes in a large breath of air, steeling himself and throwing up his most powerful mental shields he has yet constructed.

Anakin reaches out and throws open the doors, and a wash of foul smelling air hits the two men as they enter the death chamber. A single chair, the only piece of furniture in the room of the most powerful man in the galaxy, sits facing a large viewport. From that chair, an evil presence slithers its way across the floor, and Luke feels it settle in his head, probing his mental shields in an attempt to find a weakness. It finds none, and Luke feels the emperor's distaste as he pulls away.

The chair spins around, revealing the cloaked figure of the emperor, scarred beyond recognition. The only things Luke can see are the emperor's two golden eyes gleaming with what looks like excitement. Luke's heart drops. The emperor already knows of their plot - of course he does. The sly look in those eyes tells it all, and a shiver runs up Luke's spine. 

"Vader, Luke," the emperor spits, glancing down at his gnarled fingernails as the two approach his throne. 

Neither respond, and the tense silence afterwards is enough to choke Luke up slightly. The emperor smirks, revealing a row of rotten yellow teeth underneath his scarred lips.

"Do you know why I wanted you here?" the emperor asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

"No," Anakin responds curtly, crossing his arms in a similar defensive manner.

"I've noticed that your son is progressing very well. Even better than you did, Vader," he croaks, reveling in the slight tinge of annoyance he feels slip from Anakin's mental shields. 

"So?" Luke asks, not bothering to accept the compliment. The emperor's pride in him is enough to fuel his rage more, and he makes an effort to tighten his shields further. 

"I was considering... Having him come with us when we destroy the rebels."

Luke's eyes widen, and he takes a small step backwards. His knees threaten to buckle, but Anakin places a steadying arm on his shoulder, pulling his son's form to his side in order to hold him up.

"We attack tonight. Prepare him," the emperor instructs. Anakin nods, and hurries Luke out of the room, feeling cracks of Luke's shock forcing their way out of his shields.

They race to their bedrooms, not bothering to hide themselves from the groups of Stormtroopers patrolling the halls outside of the throne room. Luke is in full panic mode now, and by the time Anakin carefully sets his son down on his bed, the boy is shaking and crying out of control. He pulls Luke to his chest, rubbing his sandy blonde hair as he cries, and for the first time, Anakin understands exactly what Luke is feeling. For the first nights he had been with the emperor, he had cried himself to sleep, sitting in his chamber as his helmet was carefully removed from his head. The man had a way of forcing the worst out of everyone.