"Isn't this ship wizard?" Beula asked, glowing, as she stepped into the
cockpit.
"Wizard?" Roth mocked her, smirking.
Beula rolled her eyes. "It means cool. Anakin says it a lot."
"Don't give in to peer pressure," Roth said, pretending to be stern.
Beula snorted. "Coming from you of all people," she muttered.
Roth pretended not to hear her. He didn't want to get into the things he did when he was fourteen. He looked around at the room. "This ship really is . . . um . . . wizard." He flashed her a quick smile. "I guess we should start working for the head of Senate more often."
Beula shuddered. "This ship isn't enough to get me to work with Zoilo. I'm so glad we're leaving, actually. He creeped me out in the worst way."
"Me too," Roth said softly, thinking to himself. What did that mean? If he and Beula both had a bad feeling about Zoilo, could it be the Force trying to tell them something? And, if Clemens and Yrrk were telling the truth, could it have been Zoilo who switched the disks? These questions and many more circulated Roth's brain, taunting him yet remaining elusive when he tried to grasp on the answers. He began to get frustrated.
'Don't,' he told himself, using a Jedi calming influence on himself. 'You're finally getting something accomplished instead of baby-sitting for the Chancellor. Give Obi-Wan and Anakin the dirty work. They deserve to come off their high horses every once in awhile.'
"Resentful are we?" Beula asked.
"Don't read my thoughts," Roth snapped, irritated and embarrassed that she had picked up on his bitter thoughts. He didn't want anyone to know he was . . . maybe, sort of, a little bit jealous of Obi-Wan. Plain, ordinary Obi- Wan who never wanted to break the rules but was always talked into doing so. Obi-Wan with no sense of fun. Roth smirked. So he had changed in the past few years, so what? It still didn't change that *Obi-Wan Kenobi* was famous in the Temple and in the galaxy.
Beula didn't appear too concerned with his angry tone. Her eyes were full of compassion, and she laid a small hand on Roth's arm, a gesture of comfort. Surprisingly, the small hand touched Roth to his very core. His heart was trying to escape up his throat, and he felt a longing to confide in this little girl. Beula, his closest friend, his favorite ally, his "little sister" Beula . . . He realized in that moment that she had come to mean more to him than any other person he knew. The thought scared him, and his thoughts twisted and turned. Eventually, he did the very Roth thing and rejected her.
Turning away from her, Roth pretended to have to do something on the computer. Though it wasn't a cold shoulder, he felt Beula's pain and disappointment. He heard her walk away without another word, too much of a coward to watch her retreating back. He wanted to call after her and apologize, to tell her everything that he had been thinking, but he couldn't. He didn't know how.
* * * * *
Clem was getting nowhere. He'd been in the library for hours, and nothing the least bit significant had shown up. 'Of course,' he thought sardonically, 'that's what happens when you don't even know what you're looking for!' He sighed in exasperation and rubbed his temples at a furious rate. He would not, under any circumstances, give up. Maybe it was too late to save Lark, but it was not too late to expose Palpatine. And he *would* do that. If it was the last thing he did.
'It's very nearly coming to that anyway,' he thought bitterly.
Nothing changed in the course of the hours to come. Clem read names and dates to the point where they all blurred together. He knew he wasn't accomplishing anything, but he was at a loss as how to continue. He thought of asking Laura and Andy if they could have somebody help him, but they had already done enough for him. He hated being such a burden to his two best friends, and yet he couldn't find a way to do what he needed to do without them.
He heard the doors slide open, but he didn't look up. Various people had walked into the library all day. Nobody noticed Clem, huddled on a computer in a far corner. He was trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.
"Hello? Clem?" A trembling voice called into the echoing confines of the room. The voice was familiar, sweetly familiar.
Clem's heart expanded painfully in his ribs. He would recognize that voice anywhere. He stood up on shaky legs, barely able to believe that he wasn't hearing things. Things created in his mind filled with longing. Longing for the one person he cared about the most, the one person he had shut himself off to. Time seemed to still around him, his lungs heaving in disbelief as the moment stretched into eternity. It couldn't be true.
Yet it was. Gem was utterly real, standing in the middle of the library, wringing her hands together nervously, her eyes meeting his in an expression of hope, longing, and heartache that he knew he must be mirroring. The electricity sizzled between them, but Clem was at a loss. He wanted to touch her, to talk to her, to be with her . . . But he couldn't.
Her eyes were unwavering, and relief filled him to the very brim. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, her name upon his lips in a breathless, disbelieving tone. "Gem . . ."
* * * * *
Roth spent most of that night thinking over the rejection he must have slapped Beula with. Other than his flickering emotional state, the trip had been smooth. He'd given his clearance codes without anything suspicious, but he and Beula hadn't been able to truly relax until they were safely in hyper space. After that, the ship was put on autopilot and Roth and Beula were given a chance to sleep.
Roth struggled with this. Once he was in his cabin, he'd collapsed onto the stiff bed, completely set on falling asleep. He hadn't gotten much the night before, and he wanted relief. Just when he was on the bridge of blessed unconciousness, his conscience struck. Beula's emotions from earlier became his own, and he felt as if his world had crashed.
Trying his best, Roth pushed the thoughts out of his mind, trying to blank it clear. It didn't work though. When he stopped thinking about how badly he hurt Beula, he started thinking about how much he'd changed. He'd always cared about people. Obi-Wan and his Master being at the top of the list. But both of them had been his friends. Beula seemed to be so much more. He wasn't sure how to handle it. He was clumsy with girls when they weren't the object of his desires.
Roth sighed and turned over onto his back. The air seemed to be overheated, his blankets too tight, his thoughts too zippity. Everything was going wrong.
Startling him into jumping out of bed, the doors to his quarters opened. A small figure stood in the shadows of the hallway, and he turned the lights on with a wave of his hand. Beula apparated before him, her mouth set in a grim line.
"Do you knock?" Roth asked, biting out the first thing that came to his mind.
Beula ignored him. "Roth, you're insufferable," she stated clearly.
"Oh?" Roth said, raising one eyebrow at her, daring for her to continue.
"Yes!" Beula hissed. "I was only trying to console you. Do you always keep emotions locked up tight inside of herself? In inpenetrable walls?"
Roth's mind came up with a witty reply. He closed his eyes tight, swallowed his pride. "Yes," he managed to choke out. He snapped open his eyes to see Beula looking at him with surprise. Obviously, she hadn't expected this. He spoke again, his voice clearer, "Yes. I do."
"Why?" Beula asked.
Roth shrugged. He looked away from her -- anywhere but her eyes. They seemed to see right through him, and it was unnerving. "I don't know."
"Don't you?" Beula asked absently. Looking away didn't help. He felt her gaze burning into his back, beckoning him.
"I guess 'cause I don't . . . you know . . . like that kind of stuff," Roth managed to say.
"What kind of stuff?"
"Stuff!" Roth clarified, becoming angry with himself for being unable to answer and angry with her for her demands. "Emotional crap. You know."
A smile tugged at Beula's lips. "Yeah, I guess I do know." She watched him for a while. Finally, he looked up at her, and their eyes locked together. This time she did smile, brilliantly in fact. "You don't have to act that way with me, Roth. I already know all of your faults. You can't escape from me."
Roth forced himself to laugh, but it was brief and fake-sounding. He nodded at her. "I'll take that into consideration."
"I'm glad to hear it," Beula said. She folded her arms across her chest and looked around. "So, are we done here?"
"I think so," Roth said, unsure himself. He'd never had any talk about his feelings before. Even though this one wasn't as deep as he knew they could get, he still felt uncomfortable and out of place.
"Good night, then," Beula said softly, turning around to leave.
Just as her hand was about to slap the doors shut, Roth spoke without thinking. "Wait!" he cried out despeartely. Beula stopped and turned her head to look at him, her eyes questioning. He smiled crookedly. "While we're at it, I might as well let you know that . . . you're not just an apprentice to me, Beula. You're . . . you're my best friend. You know?"
Beula looked truly happy, her face glowing. "Yeah. You too, Roth," she said softly before shutting the doors.
Roth sighed and lay backwards on his bed. 'That went well,' he thought. He laughed softly. For some strange reason, he actually felt better. His heart was lighter, and his conscience was clear of guilt. This time when his eyes shut, he was able to enter the blissful peacefulness of slumber.
* * * * *
In an instant, Clem had Gem clapsed tightly in his arms. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe her in. Her scent drove him crazy, and he kissed the top of her head, feeling the softness of her hair beneath his lips.
"I missed you," Clem whispered hoarsely, pulling her even tighter.
Gem stiffened in his arms, and he carefully let her go. Her eyes were full of fire. "You *missed* me?" she demanded softly. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "You should have communicated with me, Clem! I spent weeks worrying over you and what had happened. I didn't know whether you were dead or alive."
Clem felt shamed. He looked down at the floor and offered a pitiful excuse. "I was scared. I didn't want to get you involved."
"Too late for that," Gem said bluntly.
"What do you mean?"
"This Jedi -- Obi-Wan Kenobi -- he and some girl working for Palpatine kept coming to me with questions about you. They came while I was packing yesterday, and they told me that they're sure that you did it. They *know*, Clem. You're not safe here. It's the most obvious place."
Clem let out a deep breath. "Laura and Andy are prepared to hide me if they come in search of me."
"You'll let them?" Gem asked, folding her arms across her chest and arching her eyebrows. "You don't think they've done enough for you?"
"Of course they've done enough for me, and it kills me to ask them to do more!" Clem protested vehemently. He sighed. "But at the same time, I need to find out what Palpatine is hiding. I've vowed that it will be the last thing I ever do."
Gem's eyes glittered, and he realized belatedly that she was close to tears. He held out a hand and touched her arm lightly. "Look, Gem . . . I'm gonna be all right."
"No you're not," Gem said, shaking her head and brushing his arm away. She sniffled just slightly. "I'm not an idiot, Clem. And . . . you can bring me down with you."
Clem's heart did a double beat. "No," he said firmly. "No."
Gem smiled, but tears were falling down her cheeks silently. "Do you think you can stop me, Lorcan?"
"No. But if I talk Andy into using his bodyguards to keep you locked up . . ." Clem let his threat hang in the air.
Gem hit his upper arm. "You won't do that." She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. He automatically wrapped his arms around her waist. He closed his eyes again, relishing in the feeling of her. He knew it was wrong though. He shouldn't take what he could never have.
"I missed you too," Gem whispered, her breath tingling the skin of his neck. "I missed you so much." She paused. "I realized something when you left."
Something in the gravity of her voice set off a warning bell in Clem's head. He shook his head. "Don't say it, Gem," he said, but his voice had little conviction in it.
"Like you can stop me. I travled across the galaxy for this. Clem, I love you . . . and, I know we're both going to die soon. Either from the plague or at Palpatine's hand. So, until then, I want you to stop being idealistic and love me back."
Clem wanted to protest, but her words were weighted with the truth. He nodded. "Okay."
"Really?" Gem asked in surprise, loosening her grip around his neck to look him in the face. "I was expecting more of a fight."
Clem leaned his head down. "How can I fight you?" he asked just before their lips met.
* * * * *
"Good morning, Sabé," Palpatine greeted pleasantly as she entered his office the next morning. He looked up from something he was working on and smiled warmly at her.
Sabé felt reassured by that smile. She couldn't wait to detail him with the news. She knew he would be proud of her. "Good morning," she responded.
"How are you coming along?" Palpatine asked, leaning backwards in his richly furnished chair, his fingers folded in a temple as he regarded her questioningly.
"Better than I anticipated," Sabé replied brightly. She sucked in her breath deeply. "It seems our culprit has left quite a few breadcrumbs along his 'escape'."
"I'm delighted to hear it," Palpatine said, smiling as if he truly meant it.
"We managed to uncover his tracks, as I said. He's back on Lark, hiding out in the palace."
Palpatine's face turned white. "You know his exact location?" He reached for his comm unit pad. "Have you contacted security already?"
Sabé put her hand up in a gesture that meant for him to stop. "Jedi Sagiv and Guiseppa went after him. We decided that this would be better if it was quieter."
"Quieter?" Palpatine asked, his voice weak as he collapsed backward in his seat. Sabé didn't take the time to analyze his reactions.
"Yes," she answered. "Lorcan didn't seem like the type, you know? We don't think he could have planned this whole thing out on his own."
"Who helped him?"
"A group called 'The Seperatists'."
Palpatine's jaw clenched. His eyes turned hard. When spoke, his voice was cold. "You sent Sagiv and Guiseppa to Lark, and the real reason someone tried to kill me was a threatening terrorist group who broke away from the Republic?"
Sabé nodded, suddenly feeling unsure of herself. This wasn't the reaction she'd expected, and she wasn't quite sure as to what was happening.
"When did they leave?" Palpatine asked.
"Last night," Sabé answered meekly.
Palpatine stood up and clasped his hands behind him. "Thank you for keeping me updated, Sabé," he said stonily. "But I'm afraid that this is all the time we have for a personal meeting. I have to start preparing for the Senate. Since the danger seems to have moved off-planet, I can do with just Zoilo for now."
"Yes, Your Excellency," Sabé said, bowing respectfully.
"You may leave," Palpatine said dismissedly, waving a hand. "Send Zoilo in when you pass by him in the waiting room."
Sabé nodded shortly and typed in the code to leave the room. She was shaken up, her thoughts muddled and confused. She knew that she should have figured something out in this meeting, but the answer seemed to be just out of grasp.
* * * * *
After Sabé left, Palpatine sat back down, resting his head in his hand and rubbing at his temples. He shouldn't get mad at her. She didn't know any better. She didn't know any better. He gripped at the sides of his head powerfully, the need to scream becoming strong. He would overcome it though. Things had worked out for him so far. Besides, what made him think that either Lorcan, Sagiv, or Guiseppa were intelligent enough to find any evidence?
The doors slid open and Zoilo's blank stare greeted him. His jaw clenched furiously. "Those idiots went to Lark!"
Zoilo knew. He knew everything. He nodded, understanding. "I told you that I could handle it. I don't see why you hired their help."
"Because I wanted to get closer to Skywalker and Kenobi," Palpatine gritted out. "Did we not go over this?"
"You haven't made an attempt to befriend them."
Zoilo flew against a wall with a painful sounding thud. The proof of Palpatine's anger. He rubbed his fists and contemplated Force lightning. "Of course I haven't, you imbecile. I can't be obvious, or they might start to suspect. Both of them have brains, real brains. They're smarter than the average Jedi, let alone the average person."
"I'm sorry, Your Excellency," Zoilo said in submission, hanging his head low.
"You know what you need to do?"
"Yes, Your Excellency."
"Then do it." Palpatine paused. "And if you come back before it's done, I will kill you. Painfully, torturously. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Your Excellency. I will not fail, Your Excellency."
"You'd better not, or your head is on this desk. Still alive, if I can manage it."
"Wizard?" Roth mocked her, smirking.
Beula rolled her eyes. "It means cool. Anakin says it a lot."
"Don't give in to peer pressure," Roth said, pretending to be stern.
Beula snorted. "Coming from you of all people," she muttered.
Roth pretended not to hear her. He didn't want to get into the things he did when he was fourteen. He looked around at the room. "This ship really is . . . um . . . wizard." He flashed her a quick smile. "I guess we should start working for the head of Senate more often."
Beula shuddered. "This ship isn't enough to get me to work with Zoilo. I'm so glad we're leaving, actually. He creeped me out in the worst way."
"Me too," Roth said softly, thinking to himself. What did that mean? If he and Beula both had a bad feeling about Zoilo, could it be the Force trying to tell them something? And, if Clemens and Yrrk were telling the truth, could it have been Zoilo who switched the disks? These questions and many more circulated Roth's brain, taunting him yet remaining elusive when he tried to grasp on the answers. He began to get frustrated.
'Don't,' he told himself, using a Jedi calming influence on himself. 'You're finally getting something accomplished instead of baby-sitting for the Chancellor. Give Obi-Wan and Anakin the dirty work. They deserve to come off their high horses every once in awhile.'
"Resentful are we?" Beula asked.
"Don't read my thoughts," Roth snapped, irritated and embarrassed that she had picked up on his bitter thoughts. He didn't want anyone to know he was . . . maybe, sort of, a little bit jealous of Obi-Wan. Plain, ordinary Obi- Wan who never wanted to break the rules but was always talked into doing so. Obi-Wan with no sense of fun. Roth smirked. So he had changed in the past few years, so what? It still didn't change that *Obi-Wan Kenobi* was famous in the Temple and in the galaxy.
Beula didn't appear too concerned with his angry tone. Her eyes were full of compassion, and she laid a small hand on Roth's arm, a gesture of comfort. Surprisingly, the small hand touched Roth to his very core. His heart was trying to escape up his throat, and he felt a longing to confide in this little girl. Beula, his closest friend, his favorite ally, his "little sister" Beula . . . He realized in that moment that she had come to mean more to him than any other person he knew. The thought scared him, and his thoughts twisted and turned. Eventually, he did the very Roth thing and rejected her.
Turning away from her, Roth pretended to have to do something on the computer. Though it wasn't a cold shoulder, he felt Beula's pain and disappointment. He heard her walk away without another word, too much of a coward to watch her retreating back. He wanted to call after her and apologize, to tell her everything that he had been thinking, but he couldn't. He didn't know how.
* * * * *
Clem was getting nowhere. He'd been in the library for hours, and nothing the least bit significant had shown up. 'Of course,' he thought sardonically, 'that's what happens when you don't even know what you're looking for!' He sighed in exasperation and rubbed his temples at a furious rate. He would not, under any circumstances, give up. Maybe it was too late to save Lark, but it was not too late to expose Palpatine. And he *would* do that. If it was the last thing he did.
'It's very nearly coming to that anyway,' he thought bitterly.
Nothing changed in the course of the hours to come. Clem read names and dates to the point where they all blurred together. He knew he wasn't accomplishing anything, but he was at a loss as how to continue. He thought of asking Laura and Andy if they could have somebody help him, but they had already done enough for him. He hated being such a burden to his two best friends, and yet he couldn't find a way to do what he needed to do without them.
He heard the doors slide open, but he didn't look up. Various people had walked into the library all day. Nobody noticed Clem, huddled on a computer in a far corner. He was trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.
"Hello? Clem?" A trembling voice called into the echoing confines of the room. The voice was familiar, sweetly familiar.
Clem's heart expanded painfully in his ribs. He would recognize that voice anywhere. He stood up on shaky legs, barely able to believe that he wasn't hearing things. Things created in his mind filled with longing. Longing for the one person he cared about the most, the one person he had shut himself off to. Time seemed to still around him, his lungs heaving in disbelief as the moment stretched into eternity. It couldn't be true.
Yet it was. Gem was utterly real, standing in the middle of the library, wringing her hands together nervously, her eyes meeting his in an expression of hope, longing, and heartache that he knew he must be mirroring. The electricity sizzled between them, but Clem was at a loss. He wanted to touch her, to talk to her, to be with her . . . But he couldn't.
Her eyes were unwavering, and relief filled him to the very brim. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, her name upon his lips in a breathless, disbelieving tone. "Gem . . ."
* * * * *
Roth spent most of that night thinking over the rejection he must have slapped Beula with. Other than his flickering emotional state, the trip had been smooth. He'd given his clearance codes without anything suspicious, but he and Beula hadn't been able to truly relax until they were safely in hyper space. After that, the ship was put on autopilot and Roth and Beula were given a chance to sleep.
Roth struggled with this. Once he was in his cabin, he'd collapsed onto the stiff bed, completely set on falling asleep. He hadn't gotten much the night before, and he wanted relief. Just when he was on the bridge of blessed unconciousness, his conscience struck. Beula's emotions from earlier became his own, and he felt as if his world had crashed.
Trying his best, Roth pushed the thoughts out of his mind, trying to blank it clear. It didn't work though. When he stopped thinking about how badly he hurt Beula, he started thinking about how much he'd changed. He'd always cared about people. Obi-Wan and his Master being at the top of the list. But both of them had been his friends. Beula seemed to be so much more. He wasn't sure how to handle it. He was clumsy with girls when they weren't the object of his desires.
Roth sighed and turned over onto his back. The air seemed to be overheated, his blankets too tight, his thoughts too zippity. Everything was going wrong.
Startling him into jumping out of bed, the doors to his quarters opened. A small figure stood in the shadows of the hallway, and he turned the lights on with a wave of his hand. Beula apparated before him, her mouth set in a grim line.
"Do you knock?" Roth asked, biting out the first thing that came to his mind.
Beula ignored him. "Roth, you're insufferable," she stated clearly.
"Oh?" Roth said, raising one eyebrow at her, daring for her to continue.
"Yes!" Beula hissed. "I was only trying to console you. Do you always keep emotions locked up tight inside of herself? In inpenetrable walls?"
Roth's mind came up with a witty reply. He closed his eyes tight, swallowed his pride. "Yes," he managed to choke out. He snapped open his eyes to see Beula looking at him with surprise. Obviously, she hadn't expected this. He spoke again, his voice clearer, "Yes. I do."
"Why?" Beula asked.
Roth shrugged. He looked away from her -- anywhere but her eyes. They seemed to see right through him, and it was unnerving. "I don't know."
"Don't you?" Beula asked absently. Looking away didn't help. He felt her gaze burning into his back, beckoning him.
"I guess 'cause I don't . . . you know . . . like that kind of stuff," Roth managed to say.
"What kind of stuff?"
"Stuff!" Roth clarified, becoming angry with himself for being unable to answer and angry with her for her demands. "Emotional crap. You know."
A smile tugged at Beula's lips. "Yeah, I guess I do know." She watched him for a while. Finally, he looked up at her, and their eyes locked together. This time she did smile, brilliantly in fact. "You don't have to act that way with me, Roth. I already know all of your faults. You can't escape from me."
Roth forced himself to laugh, but it was brief and fake-sounding. He nodded at her. "I'll take that into consideration."
"I'm glad to hear it," Beula said. She folded her arms across her chest and looked around. "So, are we done here?"
"I think so," Roth said, unsure himself. He'd never had any talk about his feelings before. Even though this one wasn't as deep as he knew they could get, he still felt uncomfortable and out of place.
"Good night, then," Beula said softly, turning around to leave.
Just as her hand was about to slap the doors shut, Roth spoke without thinking. "Wait!" he cried out despeartely. Beula stopped and turned her head to look at him, her eyes questioning. He smiled crookedly. "While we're at it, I might as well let you know that . . . you're not just an apprentice to me, Beula. You're . . . you're my best friend. You know?"
Beula looked truly happy, her face glowing. "Yeah. You too, Roth," she said softly before shutting the doors.
Roth sighed and lay backwards on his bed. 'That went well,' he thought. He laughed softly. For some strange reason, he actually felt better. His heart was lighter, and his conscience was clear of guilt. This time when his eyes shut, he was able to enter the blissful peacefulness of slumber.
* * * * *
In an instant, Clem had Gem clapsed tightly in his arms. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe her in. Her scent drove him crazy, and he kissed the top of her head, feeling the softness of her hair beneath his lips.
"I missed you," Clem whispered hoarsely, pulling her even tighter.
Gem stiffened in his arms, and he carefully let her go. Her eyes were full of fire. "You *missed* me?" she demanded softly. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "You should have communicated with me, Clem! I spent weeks worrying over you and what had happened. I didn't know whether you were dead or alive."
Clem felt shamed. He looked down at the floor and offered a pitiful excuse. "I was scared. I didn't want to get you involved."
"Too late for that," Gem said bluntly.
"What do you mean?"
"This Jedi -- Obi-Wan Kenobi -- he and some girl working for Palpatine kept coming to me with questions about you. They came while I was packing yesterday, and they told me that they're sure that you did it. They *know*, Clem. You're not safe here. It's the most obvious place."
Clem let out a deep breath. "Laura and Andy are prepared to hide me if they come in search of me."
"You'll let them?" Gem asked, folding her arms across her chest and arching her eyebrows. "You don't think they've done enough for you?"
"Of course they've done enough for me, and it kills me to ask them to do more!" Clem protested vehemently. He sighed. "But at the same time, I need to find out what Palpatine is hiding. I've vowed that it will be the last thing I ever do."
Gem's eyes glittered, and he realized belatedly that she was close to tears. He held out a hand and touched her arm lightly. "Look, Gem . . . I'm gonna be all right."
"No you're not," Gem said, shaking her head and brushing his arm away. She sniffled just slightly. "I'm not an idiot, Clem. And . . . you can bring me down with you."
Clem's heart did a double beat. "No," he said firmly. "No."
Gem smiled, but tears were falling down her cheeks silently. "Do you think you can stop me, Lorcan?"
"No. But if I talk Andy into using his bodyguards to keep you locked up . . ." Clem let his threat hang in the air.
Gem hit his upper arm. "You won't do that." She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. He automatically wrapped his arms around her waist. He closed his eyes again, relishing in the feeling of her. He knew it was wrong though. He shouldn't take what he could never have.
"I missed you too," Gem whispered, her breath tingling the skin of his neck. "I missed you so much." She paused. "I realized something when you left."
Something in the gravity of her voice set off a warning bell in Clem's head. He shook his head. "Don't say it, Gem," he said, but his voice had little conviction in it.
"Like you can stop me. I travled across the galaxy for this. Clem, I love you . . . and, I know we're both going to die soon. Either from the plague or at Palpatine's hand. So, until then, I want you to stop being idealistic and love me back."
Clem wanted to protest, but her words were weighted with the truth. He nodded. "Okay."
"Really?" Gem asked in surprise, loosening her grip around his neck to look him in the face. "I was expecting more of a fight."
Clem leaned his head down. "How can I fight you?" he asked just before their lips met.
* * * * *
"Good morning, Sabé," Palpatine greeted pleasantly as she entered his office the next morning. He looked up from something he was working on and smiled warmly at her.
Sabé felt reassured by that smile. She couldn't wait to detail him with the news. She knew he would be proud of her. "Good morning," she responded.
"How are you coming along?" Palpatine asked, leaning backwards in his richly furnished chair, his fingers folded in a temple as he regarded her questioningly.
"Better than I anticipated," Sabé replied brightly. She sucked in her breath deeply. "It seems our culprit has left quite a few breadcrumbs along his 'escape'."
"I'm delighted to hear it," Palpatine said, smiling as if he truly meant it.
"We managed to uncover his tracks, as I said. He's back on Lark, hiding out in the palace."
Palpatine's face turned white. "You know his exact location?" He reached for his comm unit pad. "Have you contacted security already?"
Sabé put her hand up in a gesture that meant for him to stop. "Jedi Sagiv and Guiseppa went after him. We decided that this would be better if it was quieter."
"Quieter?" Palpatine asked, his voice weak as he collapsed backward in his seat. Sabé didn't take the time to analyze his reactions.
"Yes," she answered. "Lorcan didn't seem like the type, you know? We don't think he could have planned this whole thing out on his own."
"Who helped him?"
"A group called 'The Seperatists'."
Palpatine's jaw clenched. His eyes turned hard. When spoke, his voice was cold. "You sent Sagiv and Guiseppa to Lark, and the real reason someone tried to kill me was a threatening terrorist group who broke away from the Republic?"
Sabé nodded, suddenly feeling unsure of herself. This wasn't the reaction she'd expected, and she wasn't quite sure as to what was happening.
"When did they leave?" Palpatine asked.
"Last night," Sabé answered meekly.
Palpatine stood up and clasped his hands behind him. "Thank you for keeping me updated, Sabé," he said stonily. "But I'm afraid that this is all the time we have for a personal meeting. I have to start preparing for the Senate. Since the danger seems to have moved off-planet, I can do with just Zoilo for now."
"Yes, Your Excellency," Sabé said, bowing respectfully.
"You may leave," Palpatine said dismissedly, waving a hand. "Send Zoilo in when you pass by him in the waiting room."
Sabé nodded shortly and typed in the code to leave the room. She was shaken up, her thoughts muddled and confused. She knew that she should have figured something out in this meeting, but the answer seemed to be just out of grasp.
* * * * *
After Sabé left, Palpatine sat back down, resting his head in his hand and rubbing at his temples. He shouldn't get mad at her. She didn't know any better. She didn't know any better. He gripped at the sides of his head powerfully, the need to scream becoming strong. He would overcome it though. Things had worked out for him so far. Besides, what made him think that either Lorcan, Sagiv, or Guiseppa were intelligent enough to find any evidence?
The doors slid open and Zoilo's blank stare greeted him. His jaw clenched furiously. "Those idiots went to Lark!"
Zoilo knew. He knew everything. He nodded, understanding. "I told you that I could handle it. I don't see why you hired their help."
"Because I wanted to get closer to Skywalker and Kenobi," Palpatine gritted out. "Did we not go over this?"
"You haven't made an attempt to befriend them."
Zoilo flew against a wall with a painful sounding thud. The proof of Palpatine's anger. He rubbed his fists and contemplated Force lightning. "Of course I haven't, you imbecile. I can't be obvious, or they might start to suspect. Both of them have brains, real brains. They're smarter than the average Jedi, let alone the average person."
"I'm sorry, Your Excellency," Zoilo said in submission, hanging his head low.
"You know what you need to do?"
"Yes, Your Excellency."
"Then do it." Palpatine paused. "And if you come back before it's done, I will kill you. Painfully, torturously. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Your Excellency. I will not fail, Your Excellency."
"You'd better not, or your head is on this desk. Still alive, if I can manage it."