------------
Lady Tsara frowned as she watched Jerule accept the latest communiqué from the borders of Kindah Province. He quickly read it over, then handed it to her. She snatched it from his hand. Glancing over it she read that K'lia's forces, just as she had predicated, had been deployed, at the request of the Assembly, along the border of Kindah Province to answer the threat of Jerule's forces. In addition, she herself had just received a message from her informant within K'lia's manor that the Assembly guards had been pulled from the manor and sent to the border. She looked up from the paper.
"All is ready, Jerule," she said to him. "The Assembly guards are gone. That leaves only the Jedi and the security droids."
"And your supporter within the manor----"
"Will take care of the security droids once I send him the signal," Tsara said with a smile.
Jerule smiled back, his eyes firing with lust. "And then Onara will be mine."
"Once the Count's friend has 'cured' her, of course." Tsara added.
Jerule's face darkened for a moment. "Yes, once he has cured her," he repeated duly.
"Now, now, Jerule, don't despair. Yes, according to the Count, Onara will no longer be herself after his friend has gotten his hands on her, but she had always been terribly willful and disobedient. Just as stubborn and headstrong as that slut that was her mother. I still don't see what K'lia saw in that woman. Trust me, you would not want such qualities in a wife. And, really Jerule, I'm sure you weren't interested in having long, philosophical discussions with Onara, now where you?"
Jerule remained silent as looked at her long and hard, his black eyes narrowing.
"And it's not her mind you're interested in, now is it?" Tsara went on with a shrewd smile.
"No," Jerule finally agreed. "It's not her mind that interests me."
"Good. Then we are, as they say, on the same page."
Tsara laid the communiqué aside and went over to stand in front of the window of Jerule's study in what had once been Edress's manor. That fool had been buried some days ago. Tsara had advised Jerule to keep the funeral as small and low-key as possible. No point in letting it be a rallying cry for any dissidents still upset that Edress's nephew had been passed over as Dynast of Kindah Province.
Tsara frowned. Edress's nephew was nothing like his uncle. Dalan was well- loved by the people of his province for he was kind and compassionate. Unlike his uncle, he had tried to live as simply as possible although he had inherited some rich lands from his deceased mother, Edress's sister. However, Dalan had allocated much of those lands to those who had lost their farms or property during the war. He was a few years older than Onara and still unmarried. On the advice of his supporters, Dalan remained sequestered at his estate. Tsara had told Jerule to forbid Dalan from attending Edress's funeral for his appearance would only have served as a lightning rod for any unrest.
Now, as Tsara watched the sun dipping behind the red-tinged hills of Jerule's estate, she decided that once her affairs were settled regarding K'lia and her great-grandson, she was going to see about having Dalan killed. No sense in leaving such a potentially dangerous rival alive.
"Lady Tsara."
Tsara blinked her eyes and turned back to Jerule.
"The Red Tide? Will they be ready?" he asked.
She smiled as she walked over to him.
"Oh, yes. They've been ready. And I have a surprise for you, Jerule. You and I are going to accompany them."
"What?"
"You're not afraid, are you?" Tsara asked scornfully.
"Afraid? No, of course not. But I don't see why we should---."
"Jerule, if you are going to be a leader, it is necessary sometimes to take matters into your own hands. You must not leave everything up to subordinates. That is a good way to wind up dead, like Edress."
"Yes, I understand that, but still---."
"You're going!" Tsara snapped. "There will be no more discussion about it. Understood!"
"Yes, Lady Tsara, of course."
Tsara smiled, but her eyes were as black and cold as the entrance to hell.
"Good. Now, take heed, Jerule, for I will tell you this only once. Those who defy me, disregard my advice, or humiliate me, in the end are destroyed. All of them."
Jerule swallowed heavily and nodded to Tsara. "I understand, Lady Tsara."
Tsara reached over and patted his check, pleased to see him almost recoil from her touch, then stand still as her hand stroked his face.
"I'm glad to see we understand each other, Jerule."
She drew her hand away and, with a swirl of her dark robes, left Jerule alone in his study. As she walked down the corridor to her room, her wrinkled lips curled up. Poor fool. Not only was Jerule not going to get his hands on Onara, whom Tsara did not plan to have survive the raid, but he wasn't going to survive it either. Many would be killed in the confusion when the Red Tide invaded K'lia's manor. Tsara had arranged with Rhad that one of them would be Jerule.
Once Jerule was dead, along with Edress's nephew, Kindah Province would be leaderless. In the turmoil that followed, as the nobles fought among themselves as to who should rule, Tsara, once K'lia was dead, her great- grandson installed as Dynast and she declared his Regent, would take advantage of the confusion, invade Kindah Province and declare her great- grandson its new ruler, incorporating Kindah Province within theirs. The first step in her great-grandson eventually ruling all of Ahjane.
Tsara laughed softly as she turned a corner. A servant, who was scrubbing the floor, glanced up at the sound, but at the glare Tsara gave her, quickly lowered her head and went back to work. Tsara swept past the drudge, the edge of her gown swishing over the floor. She couldn't wait until all was done and she could report her success to Count Dooku. He would be so proud of her.
---------------
Anakin glanced over at Onara's bed. He was standing near one of the windows of her bedchamber. K'lia was with Onara and was gently adjusting the bedcovers around her. The last few days her strength had once again waned, but this time there seemed no hope of her recovering. Master Eo had examined her and, after he was done, taken Anakin aside and told him there was nothing more he could do. It was only a matter of days now. Anakin had argued that Onara's month wasn't up yet, but Eo had gently chided him, reminding him that the practice of medicine was not an exact science.
Ben had been in earlier, but Onara was so weak she hadn't been able to hold him or play with him. Master Eo had taken the baby back to the nursery where he now stood guard over him. Anakin was glad he had. Even though Ben was not quite a month old, he seemed more aware of what was going on around him than most babies his age. Although Anakin had to yet hear Ben cry, it was apparent Onara's weakening condition was affecting the baby. His blue- gray eyes were dimmer and he appeared listless.
Anakin sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. With the Assembly guards now gone, pulled away so they could join the forces now massed on the border of Kindah Province, only he and Master Eo, along with the security droids, remained as protection for Onara and Ben. There had still been no sign or word regarding Lady Tsara, but Anakin knew the old spider was somewhere, quietly spinning her web of vengeance, spitefully intent on enacting her revenge against those who had wronged her and, in the process, snaring innocent little Ben in the strands of her malevolence.
Anakin lowered his arms, his hand straying to his lightsaber where it was clipped securely to his utility belt. He thought about how Obi-Wan sometimes had to remind him to keep his lightsaber close at hand. Then, at the thought of his master, Anakin's chest clenched and he wondered if Obi- Wan was still alive, if he had found Sinja-Bau and if---and Anakin hoped with all his heart it was so---he was even now on his way back to Ahjane.
"Oh, Father, I do so hate being an invalid. And I'm taking you away from your duties."
Anakin turned from where he had been looking out the window of Onara's bedroom, watching the security droids as they patrolled the grounds. Onara was still unaware of what had happened; of Edress's death, of Jerule's ascension as Dynast, of his demand for her and Ben's return to Kindah Province and, now, of the threat of war that loomed over them all. K'lia had expressly forbade anyone from speaking to her about such things.
"Simtro is doing an excellent job of sifting through what comes over my desk, Onara," Anakin heard K'lia say. "What is important I attend to. And what is unimportant," and K'lia touched Onara on the tip of her nose and winked, "which is most of what a Dynast deals with, I let others take care of. But you, my dear, are one hundred percent important."
"Father, you're such a flatterer," Onara said and Anakin heard the smile in her frail voice.
"How do you think I won your mother?" K'lia replied smiling. "I was old even what I courted her. And she...
Klia's face softened. "She was as young and beautiful as a spring morning. Our courtship was considered unseemly by some, especially your grandmother, because of the differences in our age, but it wasn't just your mother's loveliness that drew me to her. Her spirit was like a flame, bright and fierce." K'lia chuckled. "And tired, old moth that I was, I flew straight towards the light that she was. But I was not burned. No, I was reborn and the years I spent with your mother, brief though they were, were the happiest of my life."
Onara sighed. "If only I hadn't been born, then you and Mother could have--- -"
"No, never say that," K'lia said sternly. "Your mother lived long enough to hold you in her arms and if you had seen the look on her face when she gazed upon you." K'lia stopped and shook his head. "Even for that moment, as short-lived as it was, she loved you, little one. Loved you more than life itself. And she would not have changed a thing. Not a thing."
"I wish I had known her."
K'lia reached over and kissed Onara on her forehead.
"Look in a mirror, my child," he said softly. "You will see your mother there."
Onara looked warmly up at her father, then her face sobered.
"Father?"
"Yes, my darling one?"
"Will you do me a favor?"
"Of course."
"When Obi-Wan comes back....will you tell him that I love him. And that I'm grateful for what he did in trying to save me."
K'lia swallowed and squeezed Onara's hand. "You will tell himself yourself, little one."
"No, Father. I will not. I will never see him again," Onara replied, her voice trembling.
Anakin then saw tears welling in her dark eyes. A lump formed quickly in his throat.
"You will, Onara. Don't say such things," K'lia urged her.
"Oh, Father, I'm trying to hold on," Onara went on in a low, soft voice. "I am trying so very hard to hold on."
"I know you are, Onara. But you must continue to hold on. Master Kenobi is coming back. I know he is. And he will bring Master Sinja-Bau with him. And she will cure you."
Onara slowly shook her head, causing the tears to spill from her eyes.
"Please, Father, tell Obi-Wan I love him. And tell Ben... tell him every day of his life that his Mommy loved him."
"Onara," K'lia began, then he broke down and wept.
Tears burned Anakin's eyes. He turned away from K'lia and Onara, the pain like a vise around his chest. He looked through the window, out into the night and up at the stars that dotted the heavens.
_Hurry, Master, hurry_.
-----------------
"Hello, Dad."
Obi-Wan looked down at the man who lay on the blood-stained sheets of the cot. They were in what looked like a hastily thrown-together field hospital. There were cots lined up on both sides of the metal-walled room. Most of the cots were filled with wounded, male and females, of myriad species. All of them were young and were dressed in uniforms or what looked to Obi-Wan like orange flight suits. A few healers, along with their assistants, were moving among the patients, checking their vitals, handing out medications or changing bandages.
Obi-Wan turned back to the man who had spoken to him. Like some of the other patients he was dressed in a smudged orange flight suit. He looked to be about twenty-two. He had thick black hair, a neat black beard, which barely hid a deep cleft in his strong chin, and startling blue-gray eyes. He was wearing a bacta bandage around his head.
"Ben?" he said hesitantly.
The man laughed softly. "Are you sure it wasn't you who got hit on the head, Dad?"
Obi-Wan frowned. He looked down at himself. He wasn't in his Jedi uniform or in the black clothing he had worn to Lianna. Instead he was in what looked like a military uniform. There were various medals he was unfamiliar with pinned to his left chest. He saw that his hands, where they rested on his thighs, were lined and age-spotted. He looked back at his son.
"Are you all right, Ben?" Obi-Wan asked, his eyes fixed on the bandage around his head.
Ben smiled, but winced a bit as he did so. "The healers say I should be up and around in a day or so."
"That's good to hear."
Ben reached over and put his hand on Obi-Wan's arm.
"Now, you have to promise, Dad, not to say a word about this to Mom. I don't want her scolding me in her next holomessage."
"Onara? Are you talking about Onara?"
Ben shook his head and laughed. "Maybe I should call one of the healers over to check on you. Of course, I'm talking about her. Who else would I be talking about?"
"Where is she? Is she here?"
Ben stared at Obi-Wan for a long moment. Then he frowned. "Are you sure you're all right, Dad?"
"Yes, I'm fine. Just a little tired, I guess."
Ben gripped Obi-Wan's arm. "You should get some rest."
Obi-Wan shook his head. He was terribly confused. Where was he? Then he heard an explosion from outside the building. It shook the walls slightly and bits of metallic dust rained down from the ceiling.
"They're not going to let up, are they?" Ben cried. "And shelling a hospital." He scowled, his blue-gray eyes narrowing fiercely. "They should have taken a lesson from the last pasting we gave them, right Dad? Well, when I'm out of here, I'm going to make sure they finally learn that lesson."
Obi-Wan was about to ask who 'they' were when another blast, this time much closer, rocked the building. The lights flickered off and, moments later, blood-red back-up lights came on. Obi-Wan looked around. A beam had fallen from the ceiling and onto one of the cots. People were gathered around it, trying to lift it off the patient. Obi-Wan was about to go and help, when there was another explosion, except this time it was inside the building. Obi-Wan instinctively threw himself over his son's body to protect him from the falling debris and then there was blackness.
"Ben!"
"My brother, are you all right?"
Obi-Wan opened his eyes. He was in the cockpit of the ship Anakin had borrowed from Chancellor Palpatine. He must have dozed off. He hadn't slept much during the flight from Lianna. He looked over. Sinja-Bau, who had been sleeping in the cabin, was standing next to him, her hand on his shoulder. He saw that her blue-green eyes were clear and her voice smooth and lucid.
"Yes, I'm fine," he said quickly. "I must have fallen asleep."
She smiled and sat next to him in the co-pilot seat.
"It was good you slept. You need your rest."
Obi-Wan eyed her as he rubbed the sleep from his face. Sinja-Bau was apparently experiencing one of her, as she called them, eyes in the storm of her madness. During the last two days of their flight, she'd had several of them, most lasting only a few minutes, but one had lasted for nearly an hour and during that time Obi-Wan had told her all that had happened on Coruscant and in the Jedi Order since her expulsion fifteen years ago. She had been especially devastated to learn of Qui-Gon's death and the re- emergence of the Sith.
"What were you dreaming about," she asked him. "If you don't mind sharing it, of course."
"No, I don't mind. I was dreaming about my son."
Sinja-Bau smiled. "A good dream, I hope."
Obi-Wan had also told her, during her hour of lucidity, about Onara and Ben.
He frowned. "It was both good and bad. But, he wasn't a baby in my dream. He was a grown-man. We were in a hospital. A field hospital. Ben had been injured. The hospital was being bombarded by enemy fire. But, I don't know who or what we were fighting."
"You've dreamt about him before?"
"Yes."
And that was all Obi-Wan said, for he did not like to think about that other dream. The dream where Ben had wanted to kill him, blaming him for Onara's death.
"Sinja-Bau?"
"Yes, my brother?"
"Do you believe that dreams can foretell the future?"
"Some Jedi are prescient. Are you not one of them?"
"I'm aware of the future. I can sense it, looming beneath the horizon like the sun just before the dawn, but I've never had visions about it."
Sinja-Bau sighed. She folded her hands in her lap.
"You've told me that when I'm in the grip of my madness, I tell you about visions I've had. Of the Temple in flames. Of Jedi dead or dying on worlds scattered throughout the Republic. Of two black shapes whose shadows encompass the galaxy."
Obi-Wan nodded.
"Do you believe these visions?"
Obi-Wan shrugged. "I don't know. They sound so..."
"Insane," Sinja-Bau offered with a small smile.
"I was going to say fantastic."
"Same difference." Sinja-Bau shook her head and looked out at the inky blackness of hyperspace. "Dreams. Visions. Same difference," she repeated softly. "But, to answer your question, I don't know, my brother. The future is the county to which all of us are headed, but none of us has ever visited. And, once we arrive there, it is soon the past."
She reached over and squeezed his hand. "Do not trouble yourself about your dreams or about the future for it will unravel as it is meant to. Concentrate on the moment, my brother. Keep your focus on the here and now."
Obi-Wan smiled. "You sound just like Master Qui-Gon."
Sinja-Bau returned his smile. "A wise man, your master was."
Then Obi-Wan's heart turned over as he saw the madness swirling once again in her eyes. It always happened this way, like a thick blanket falling over her mind, heavy and suffocating. She was still holding his hand, but now she was squeezing it hard.
"It comes. It comes," she gibbered. "The red tide. It comes."
To be continued....
Lady Tsara frowned as she watched Jerule accept the latest communiqué from the borders of Kindah Province. He quickly read it over, then handed it to her. She snatched it from his hand. Glancing over it she read that K'lia's forces, just as she had predicated, had been deployed, at the request of the Assembly, along the border of Kindah Province to answer the threat of Jerule's forces. In addition, she herself had just received a message from her informant within K'lia's manor that the Assembly guards had been pulled from the manor and sent to the border. She looked up from the paper.
"All is ready, Jerule," she said to him. "The Assembly guards are gone. That leaves only the Jedi and the security droids."
"And your supporter within the manor----"
"Will take care of the security droids once I send him the signal," Tsara said with a smile.
Jerule smiled back, his eyes firing with lust. "And then Onara will be mine."
"Once the Count's friend has 'cured' her, of course." Tsara added.
Jerule's face darkened for a moment. "Yes, once he has cured her," he repeated duly.
"Now, now, Jerule, don't despair. Yes, according to the Count, Onara will no longer be herself after his friend has gotten his hands on her, but she had always been terribly willful and disobedient. Just as stubborn and headstrong as that slut that was her mother. I still don't see what K'lia saw in that woman. Trust me, you would not want such qualities in a wife. And, really Jerule, I'm sure you weren't interested in having long, philosophical discussions with Onara, now where you?"
Jerule remained silent as looked at her long and hard, his black eyes narrowing.
"And it's not her mind you're interested in, now is it?" Tsara went on with a shrewd smile.
"No," Jerule finally agreed. "It's not her mind that interests me."
"Good. Then we are, as they say, on the same page."
Tsara laid the communiqué aside and went over to stand in front of the window of Jerule's study in what had once been Edress's manor. That fool had been buried some days ago. Tsara had advised Jerule to keep the funeral as small and low-key as possible. No point in letting it be a rallying cry for any dissidents still upset that Edress's nephew had been passed over as Dynast of Kindah Province.
Tsara frowned. Edress's nephew was nothing like his uncle. Dalan was well- loved by the people of his province for he was kind and compassionate. Unlike his uncle, he had tried to live as simply as possible although he had inherited some rich lands from his deceased mother, Edress's sister. However, Dalan had allocated much of those lands to those who had lost their farms or property during the war. He was a few years older than Onara and still unmarried. On the advice of his supporters, Dalan remained sequestered at his estate. Tsara had told Jerule to forbid Dalan from attending Edress's funeral for his appearance would only have served as a lightning rod for any unrest.
Now, as Tsara watched the sun dipping behind the red-tinged hills of Jerule's estate, she decided that once her affairs were settled regarding K'lia and her great-grandson, she was going to see about having Dalan killed. No sense in leaving such a potentially dangerous rival alive.
"Lady Tsara."
Tsara blinked her eyes and turned back to Jerule.
"The Red Tide? Will they be ready?" he asked.
She smiled as she walked over to him.
"Oh, yes. They've been ready. And I have a surprise for you, Jerule. You and I are going to accompany them."
"What?"
"You're not afraid, are you?" Tsara asked scornfully.
"Afraid? No, of course not. But I don't see why we should---."
"Jerule, if you are going to be a leader, it is necessary sometimes to take matters into your own hands. You must not leave everything up to subordinates. That is a good way to wind up dead, like Edress."
"Yes, I understand that, but still---."
"You're going!" Tsara snapped. "There will be no more discussion about it. Understood!"
"Yes, Lady Tsara, of course."
Tsara smiled, but her eyes were as black and cold as the entrance to hell.
"Good. Now, take heed, Jerule, for I will tell you this only once. Those who defy me, disregard my advice, or humiliate me, in the end are destroyed. All of them."
Jerule swallowed heavily and nodded to Tsara. "I understand, Lady Tsara."
Tsara reached over and patted his check, pleased to see him almost recoil from her touch, then stand still as her hand stroked his face.
"I'm glad to see we understand each other, Jerule."
She drew her hand away and, with a swirl of her dark robes, left Jerule alone in his study. As she walked down the corridor to her room, her wrinkled lips curled up. Poor fool. Not only was Jerule not going to get his hands on Onara, whom Tsara did not plan to have survive the raid, but he wasn't going to survive it either. Many would be killed in the confusion when the Red Tide invaded K'lia's manor. Tsara had arranged with Rhad that one of them would be Jerule.
Once Jerule was dead, along with Edress's nephew, Kindah Province would be leaderless. In the turmoil that followed, as the nobles fought among themselves as to who should rule, Tsara, once K'lia was dead, her great- grandson installed as Dynast and she declared his Regent, would take advantage of the confusion, invade Kindah Province and declare her great- grandson its new ruler, incorporating Kindah Province within theirs. The first step in her great-grandson eventually ruling all of Ahjane.
Tsara laughed softly as she turned a corner. A servant, who was scrubbing the floor, glanced up at the sound, but at the glare Tsara gave her, quickly lowered her head and went back to work. Tsara swept past the drudge, the edge of her gown swishing over the floor. She couldn't wait until all was done and she could report her success to Count Dooku. He would be so proud of her.
---------------
Anakin glanced over at Onara's bed. He was standing near one of the windows of her bedchamber. K'lia was with Onara and was gently adjusting the bedcovers around her. The last few days her strength had once again waned, but this time there seemed no hope of her recovering. Master Eo had examined her and, after he was done, taken Anakin aside and told him there was nothing more he could do. It was only a matter of days now. Anakin had argued that Onara's month wasn't up yet, but Eo had gently chided him, reminding him that the practice of medicine was not an exact science.
Ben had been in earlier, but Onara was so weak she hadn't been able to hold him or play with him. Master Eo had taken the baby back to the nursery where he now stood guard over him. Anakin was glad he had. Even though Ben was not quite a month old, he seemed more aware of what was going on around him than most babies his age. Although Anakin had to yet hear Ben cry, it was apparent Onara's weakening condition was affecting the baby. His blue- gray eyes were dimmer and he appeared listless.
Anakin sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. With the Assembly guards now gone, pulled away so they could join the forces now massed on the border of Kindah Province, only he and Master Eo, along with the security droids, remained as protection for Onara and Ben. There had still been no sign or word regarding Lady Tsara, but Anakin knew the old spider was somewhere, quietly spinning her web of vengeance, spitefully intent on enacting her revenge against those who had wronged her and, in the process, snaring innocent little Ben in the strands of her malevolence.
Anakin lowered his arms, his hand straying to his lightsaber where it was clipped securely to his utility belt. He thought about how Obi-Wan sometimes had to remind him to keep his lightsaber close at hand. Then, at the thought of his master, Anakin's chest clenched and he wondered if Obi- Wan was still alive, if he had found Sinja-Bau and if---and Anakin hoped with all his heart it was so---he was even now on his way back to Ahjane.
"Oh, Father, I do so hate being an invalid. And I'm taking you away from your duties."
Anakin turned from where he had been looking out the window of Onara's bedroom, watching the security droids as they patrolled the grounds. Onara was still unaware of what had happened; of Edress's death, of Jerule's ascension as Dynast, of his demand for her and Ben's return to Kindah Province and, now, of the threat of war that loomed over them all. K'lia had expressly forbade anyone from speaking to her about such things.
"Simtro is doing an excellent job of sifting through what comes over my desk, Onara," Anakin heard K'lia say. "What is important I attend to. And what is unimportant," and K'lia touched Onara on the tip of her nose and winked, "which is most of what a Dynast deals with, I let others take care of. But you, my dear, are one hundred percent important."
"Father, you're such a flatterer," Onara said and Anakin heard the smile in her frail voice.
"How do you think I won your mother?" K'lia replied smiling. "I was old even what I courted her. And she...
Klia's face softened. "She was as young and beautiful as a spring morning. Our courtship was considered unseemly by some, especially your grandmother, because of the differences in our age, but it wasn't just your mother's loveliness that drew me to her. Her spirit was like a flame, bright and fierce." K'lia chuckled. "And tired, old moth that I was, I flew straight towards the light that she was. But I was not burned. No, I was reborn and the years I spent with your mother, brief though they were, were the happiest of my life."
Onara sighed. "If only I hadn't been born, then you and Mother could have--- -"
"No, never say that," K'lia said sternly. "Your mother lived long enough to hold you in her arms and if you had seen the look on her face when she gazed upon you." K'lia stopped and shook his head. "Even for that moment, as short-lived as it was, she loved you, little one. Loved you more than life itself. And she would not have changed a thing. Not a thing."
"I wish I had known her."
K'lia reached over and kissed Onara on her forehead.
"Look in a mirror, my child," he said softly. "You will see your mother there."
Onara looked warmly up at her father, then her face sobered.
"Father?"
"Yes, my darling one?"
"Will you do me a favor?"
"Of course."
"When Obi-Wan comes back....will you tell him that I love him. And that I'm grateful for what he did in trying to save me."
K'lia swallowed and squeezed Onara's hand. "You will tell himself yourself, little one."
"No, Father. I will not. I will never see him again," Onara replied, her voice trembling.
Anakin then saw tears welling in her dark eyes. A lump formed quickly in his throat.
"You will, Onara. Don't say such things," K'lia urged her.
"Oh, Father, I'm trying to hold on," Onara went on in a low, soft voice. "I am trying so very hard to hold on."
"I know you are, Onara. But you must continue to hold on. Master Kenobi is coming back. I know he is. And he will bring Master Sinja-Bau with him. And she will cure you."
Onara slowly shook her head, causing the tears to spill from her eyes.
"Please, Father, tell Obi-Wan I love him. And tell Ben... tell him every day of his life that his Mommy loved him."
"Onara," K'lia began, then he broke down and wept.
Tears burned Anakin's eyes. He turned away from K'lia and Onara, the pain like a vise around his chest. He looked through the window, out into the night and up at the stars that dotted the heavens.
_Hurry, Master, hurry_.
-----------------
"Hello, Dad."
Obi-Wan looked down at the man who lay on the blood-stained sheets of the cot. They were in what looked like a hastily thrown-together field hospital. There were cots lined up on both sides of the metal-walled room. Most of the cots were filled with wounded, male and females, of myriad species. All of them were young and were dressed in uniforms or what looked to Obi-Wan like orange flight suits. A few healers, along with their assistants, were moving among the patients, checking their vitals, handing out medications or changing bandages.
Obi-Wan turned back to the man who had spoken to him. Like some of the other patients he was dressed in a smudged orange flight suit. He looked to be about twenty-two. He had thick black hair, a neat black beard, which barely hid a deep cleft in his strong chin, and startling blue-gray eyes. He was wearing a bacta bandage around his head.
"Ben?" he said hesitantly.
The man laughed softly. "Are you sure it wasn't you who got hit on the head, Dad?"
Obi-Wan frowned. He looked down at himself. He wasn't in his Jedi uniform or in the black clothing he had worn to Lianna. Instead he was in what looked like a military uniform. There were various medals he was unfamiliar with pinned to his left chest. He saw that his hands, where they rested on his thighs, were lined and age-spotted. He looked back at his son.
"Are you all right, Ben?" Obi-Wan asked, his eyes fixed on the bandage around his head.
Ben smiled, but winced a bit as he did so. "The healers say I should be up and around in a day or so."
"That's good to hear."
Ben reached over and put his hand on Obi-Wan's arm.
"Now, you have to promise, Dad, not to say a word about this to Mom. I don't want her scolding me in her next holomessage."
"Onara? Are you talking about Onara?"
Ben shook his head and laughed. "Maybe I should call one of the healers over to check on you. Of course, I'm talking about her. Who else would I be talking about?"
"Where is she? Is she here?"
Ben stared at Obi-Wan for a long moment. Then he frowned. "Are you sure you're all right, Dad?"
"Yes, I'm fine. Just a little tired, I guess."
Ben gripped Obi-Wan's arm. "You should get some rest."
Obi-Wan shook his head. He was terribly confused. Where was he? Then he heard an explosion from outside the building. It shook the walls slightly and bits of metallic dust rained down from the ceiling.
"They're not going to let up, are they?" Ben cried. "And shelling a hospital." He scowled, his blue-gray eyes narrowing fiercely. "They should have taken a lesson from the last pasting we gave them, right Dad? Well, when I'm out of here, I'm going to make sure they finally learn that lesson."
Obi-Wan was about to ask who 'they' were when another blast, this time much closer, rocked the building. The lights flickered off and, moments later, blood-red back-up lights came on. Obi-Wan looked around. A beam had fallen from the ceiling and onto one of the cots. People were gathered around it, trying to lift it off the patient. Obi-Wan was about to go and help, when there was another explosion, except this time it was inside the building. Obi-Wan instinctively threw himself over his son's body to protect him from the falling debris and then there was blackness.
"Ben!"
"My brother, are you all right?"
Obi-Wan opened his eyes. He was in the cockpit of the ship Anakin had borrowed from Chancellor Palpatine. He must have dozed off. He hadn't slept much during the flight from Lianna. He looked over. Sinja-Bau, who had been sleeping in the cabin, was standing next to him, her hand on his shoulder. He saw that her blue-green eyes were clear and her voice smooth and lucid.
"Yes, I'm fine," he said quickly. "I must have fallen asleep."
She smiled and sat next to him in the co-pilot seat.
"It was good you slept. You need your rest."
Obi-Wan eyed her as he rubbed the sleep from his face. Sinja-Bau was apparently experiencing one of her, as she called them, eyes in the storm of her madness. During the last two days of their flight, she'd had several of them, most lasting only a few minutes, but one had lasted for nearly an hour and during that time Obi-Wan had told her all that had happened on Coruscant and in the Jedi Order since her expulsion fifteen years ago. She had been especially devastated to learn of Qui-Gon's death and the re- emergence of the Sith.
"What were you dreaming about," she asked him. "If you don't mind sharing it, of course."
"No, I don't mind. I was dreaming about my son."
Sinja-Bau smiled. "A good dream, I hope."
Obi-Wan had also told her, during her hour of lucidity, about Onara and Ben.
He frowned. "It was both good and bad. But, he wasn't a baby in my dream. He was a grown-man. We were in a hospital. A field hospital. Ben had been injured. The hospital was being bombarded by enemy fire. But, I don't know who or what we were fighting."
"You've dreamt about him before?"
"Yes."
And that was all Obi-Wan said, for he did not like to think about that other dream. The dream where Ben had wanted to kill him, blaming him for Onara's death.
"Sinja-Bau?"
"Yes, my brother?"
"Do you believe that dreams can foretell the future?"
"Some Jedi are prescient. Are you not one of them?"
"I'm aware of the future. I can sense it, looming beneath the horizon like the sun just before the dawn, but I've never had visions about it."
Sinja-Bau sighed. She folded her hands in her lap.
"You've told me that when I'm in the grip of my madness, I tell you about visions I've had. Of the Temple in flames. Of Jedi dead or dying on worlds scattered throughout the Republic. Of two black shapes whose shadows encompass the galaxy."
Obi-Wan nodded.
"Do you believe these visions?"
Obi-Wan shrugged. "I don't know. They sound so..."
"Insane," Sinja-Bau offered with a small smile.
"I was going to say fantastic."
"Same difference." Sinja-Bau shook her head and looked out at the inky blackness of hyperspace. "Dreams. Visions. Same difference," she repeated softly. "But, to answer your question, I don't know, my brother. The future is the county to which all of us are headed, but none of us has ever visited. And, once we arrive there, it is soon the past."
She reached over and squeezed his hand. "Do not trouble yourself about your dreams or about the future for it will unravel as it is meant to. Concentrate on the moment, my brother. Keep your focus on the here and now."
Obi-Wan smiled. "You sound just like Master Qui-Gon."
Sinja-Bau returned his smile. "A wise man, your master was."
Then Obi-Wan's heart turned over as he saw the madness swirling once again in her eyes. It always happened this way, like a thick blanket falling over her mind, heavy and suffocating. She was still holding his hand, but now she was squeezing it hard.
"It comes. It comes," she gibbered. "The red tide. It comes."
To be continued....