Hi! First, sorry for the long delay in posting to this fic. I was informed
a few days ago that I'm to be laid off from my job, so I haven't been able
to do much writing of late. I hope to get back into it, but right now I'm
still dealing with the shock of it.
Now, a quick note about this post. In "First Knight", if you recall, Lady Tsara hired the Red Tide to kidnap Ben and kill Dynast K'lia. The leader of the Red Tide was a man named Latan. (If you don't remember, that's okay. He wasn't in the story very much. :) ) Anyway, it was Latan's son who was killed by Anakin. Well, Latan is in this chapter, but I changed his name to LURSAN because Latan was too similar to Dalan and might have been a bit confusing. Okay on with the chapter. :)
Stars in the Darkness - Part Thirteen
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Sinja-Bau watched, willing herself not to smile, as Ben, his little forehead furrowed, his large blue-gray eyes unblinking, stared at the clear square block he held between his hands. Inside the block were a number of brightly-colored objects of varying shapes and sizes. As she had instructed, he was moving the objects around using the Force, his intent to duplicate the pattern she had demonstrated to him. They'd been working with the Alter Toy everyday for the past week, but Ben was still having trouble reproducing the pattern. Today, she sensed, he was determined to succeed.
The Alter Toy was among several Force training aids Sinja-Bau had requested from the Temple for Ben's training. She had not been confident, however, that her request would be granted. She was no longer a member of the Jedi Order, having been cast out of it when she went insane, her Force powers stripped from her. Yet, a week ago, a package had arrived from Coruscant, from Master Yoda himself, with the toys she'd requested inside. There'd been no note or letter accompanying the package, but Sinja-Bau had not expected any.
When Obi-Wan finally found her on Toola, seeking her aid in saving Onara's life, the Force not only cured her of her madness, but returned her powers to her. She had, however, not been invited back to the Jedi Order, nor had she sought to be reinstated. She had elected to remain on Ahjane with Onara, helping her rule her province after her father's death and seeing to the care and training of her Force sensitive child.
And, as the two years she'd lived here gone swiftly past, Sinja-Bau could not imagine any place she would rather be than on this beautiful, pastoral world as tutor and nanny to this equally beautiful, extraordinary child, for Ben had become not only her student and her charge, but the child she would never have.
Mindful, of course, that not one, not two, but three people had claim to him as their son, Sinja-Bau never forgot what her true status was in relation to Ben. But, if anyone ever dared to raise a hand against him, or harm him in anyway, they would be witness to something rarely seen in the galaxy: the wrath of someone with the power of the Jedi, but no longer proscribed by its rules.
Then, noting Ben was picking up on her feelings, for he was glancing worriedly at her, Sinja-Bau quickly calmed herself. It was that man who had caused her protective instincts regarding Ben to rise to the surface. Dalan's new best friend. Lursan. Even now, thinking of him, it took all of Sinja-Bau's willpower not to let her suspicions about him overwhelm her.
He was, supposedly, a business associate of Dalan's, a dealer in antiquities and exotic rugs, quite wealthy and well-respected in the capital, but from the first time Dalan had introduced him to her, Sinja-Bau felt uneasy about him, but was never able to pinpoint why. On the surface he appeared pleasant enough, with his storm-gray eyes and genteel manners. But there was something about him, elusive and subtle, that reminded her of the movements of a moon-cobra; disarmingly charming the moon-cobra was, as it dipped and bobbed its white, hooded head until, suddenly, it struck, viciously and fatally. Then, once again noting Ben was glancing over at her, Sinja-Bau dismissed Lursan from her mind.
"You must not lose your concentration, Ben. Focus, or you will lose the pattern."
Ben nodded and looked back at the crystal block. The objects inside it darted about as he struggled to duplicate the pattern Sinja-Bau had shown him. He had almost completed it, but there was one object, a blue hexagon, he was having trouble fitting with the rest.
Sinja-Bau held her breath. The Alter Toy also had a timer on it, and Ben had only a few seconds remaining to complete the pattern. His frown deepened as he used the Force to sweep the hexagon around as he searched for where to put it. Then, finally discovering where it belonged, he slid it smoothly in. A second later the timer beeped.
"Well done!" Sinja-Bau cried.
Ben looked over at her, a wide smile on his cherubic face, his blue-gray eyes shining. "I did it, Bau-Bau. I did it!"
"Yes, you did, and I'm very proud of you, Ben. You worked very hard and did not give up."
He looked back at the completed pattern within the crystal block. "I wish Mama was here so I could show her."
Sinja-Bau reached over and stroked his soft, warm cheek. "If she were here, I know she would be very proud of you too."
Ben nodded, his eyes dimming for a moment. Sinja-Bau knew he missed Onara terribly, though he put up a brave front about it. She had tried to be something of a substitute for his mother, telling him stories at night before he went to sleep. Not about Obi-Wan, of course, for that was between Onara and Ben, but she'd ordered some children's books from the capital, and Ben had seemed to enjoy those.
He stared solemnly at the colorful pattern within the crystal block. Then his eyes brightened. He turned and went over to the small table in his room. On it, resting among his toys, its eight legs tucked under its round furriness, its eyes closed, and its eartfufts twitching as it napped, was Ben's pet voorpak, the one he had named Obi-Wan.
"Look, Obi-Wan," he said, showing the Alter Toy to the voorpak, but as Ben continued to hold the crystal block in front of it, the creature did not stir or open an eye. It slept on, oblivious to the need of a small boy to share his accomplishment with someone.
Sinja-Bau smiled. "Ben," she called.
He turned and looked at her.
"Perhaps your father would like to see what you did."
A wide smile split his face. "Yes, I'll show it to Papa."
He moved away from the table, running for the door.
"Walk, Ben," Sinja-Bau admonished him.
"Yes, Bau-Bau," he said, somewhat slowing his steps, but his small body was still moving at a rather hurried velocity. She followed him out of his room and into the corridor. One of the servants was passing by. Sinja-Bau stopped her and asked where Dalan was.
"In the drawing room, with Master Lursan."
Sinja-Bau felt a chill slither down her spine. She'd had no idea Lursan was here. He'd been at the manor just a few days ago. But, over the past couple of weeks, he'd been spending a lot of time here, and he and Dalan would sit in the drawing room behind closed doors for hours, their voices rising and falling.
Sinja-Bau, however, had no idea what it was they discussed, for she was never privy to their conversations. She assumed it was matters of business and state, but she had also noted that every time Lursan left, Dalan would be tense and agitated afterwards. He had also taking to drinking with Lursan, something he had stopped doing after the night of the storm when he and Onara had their terrible fight.
Although Dalan had been distressed by Twang's first broadcast he, like her, had brushed it off as nothing more than lewd gossip, for he knew Onara well enough to know she would never do anything so stupid as to publicly have an affair with Obi-Wan. He had been more concerned about how it was affecting her. Twang's retraction and apology the following day had then confirmed what he and Sinja-Bau both knew. There was nothing to what had been said about Onara and Obi-Wan.
However, a few days later, after Lursan had paid another one of his visits to the manor, then left, and Ben was up in his room playing, Dalan and Sinja-Bau had been discussing when to take him to Coruscant. When she suggested within the month, Dalan gave her a sharp, stabbing look.
"No, I think not," he said, his dark blue eyes wintry as he looked down at her. "Ben shouldn't be around Onara right now. It would not be good for him."
Sinja-Bau had asked him what he meant by that, but Dalan had not answered her, only repeating that he would not take Ben to Coruscant next month. Now, recalling the conversation, she was about to tell Ben he should wait until after Lursan had left to show Dalan the Alter Toy but he, having heard the servant's words, was already racing down the wide staircase to the lower floor. Sinja-Bau thanked the servant and hurriedly followed him.
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Lursan Tihon, once the leader of the Red Tide, nursed his snifter of Corellian brandy as he looked over at Dalan. The young Dynast, a brandy also in hand, was standing in front of the large oil painting of his wife, Senator Onara Gavon Lenor, which hung over the huge fireplace in the drawing room.
Lursan sat in a plush, blue chair near the fireplace, but Dalan had paced about the room as they had talked and then, at one point in the conversation, had stopped in front of the painting. He now stared at it, his dark blue eyes filled with both longing and suspicion. Lursan smiled to himself as he lifted his glass and sipped at the brandy.
Sliding his gaze away from Dalan and up at the painting, he too stared at the beautiful, young Senator. He saw nothing in her of that battle ax of a grandmother, the formidable Lady Tsara. Onara's large, dark eyes, even in the painting, conveyed only promises of pleasure and passion that her full, lush mouth and slender, but voluptuous body, seemed more than willing to deliver.
Dressed in a gown of crimson velvet ornamented in gold, the low décolletage hanging off her slender shoulders, Onara's dress was laced tightly with gold cord about her slender waist, its full, round skirt flowing to the floor. Her rich, dark hair was piled high on her head, tiny rubies glittering in her dainty ears, and to Lursan's eyes she looked every inch the daughter, wife and mother of a Dynast. Lursan didn't blame Dalan for wanting so desperately to hold on to such a prize.
Glancing back at Dalan, who raised his snifter of brandy and drank from it as he continued to gaze up at Onara, Lursan felt a twinge of pain as he thought of his own wife. She had died a few months ago, finally succumbing to the illness that her plagued her since the day Lursan returned to their home to tell her their only child was dead.
Rhad had died the night of the raid on Dynast K'lia's manor, killed by that Jedi apprentice, Anakin Skywalker. It had taken Lursan's wife nearly two years to finally die, suffering every day of her life as she mourned the loss of their son. During that time, thoughts of vengeance, though never far from Lursan's mind, had been set aside as he cared for his wife. Finally, mercifully, she had passed on.
Now, all that remained in Lursan's heart was revenge for the Jedi who had taken away not only his son, but his beloved wife. He had disbanded the Red Tide after Rhad's death, for as the Red Tide had been passed on to Lursan from his father, and to his father from his father, Lursan had planned to pass it on to Rhad. But with his son's death, and the death of many of its finest members in that debacle of a raid two years ago, Lursan had dissolved the Red Tide, focusing initially on caring for his ailing wife, establishing the business he now owned and, with his wife's death, planning his revenge against Skywalker and Kenobi.
Noting Dalan's glass was empty, Lursan placed his own on a table next to his chair and went over to him. Dalan, who was still gazing up at Onara's portrait, jumped a bit when Lursan took the empty glass from his hand, then smiled sheepishly.
"Let me get you some more," Lursan said in a smooth, low voice.
Dalan's dark blue eyes grew worried. "I...I've probably had enough."
Lursan shook his head, easing the glass out of Dalan's hand. "Nonsense. It's not every day I get a shipment of Corellian brandy in. We mustn't let it go to waste."
Dalan nodded in agreement. Lursan turned and took the glass to the table where the carafe of brandy sat. He knew Dalan was concerned he'd been drinking too much of late. He had told Lursan about the night of the storm, when in an attempt to drown his sorrows over the loss of his and Onara's baby, he had gotten drunk and accused his wife of still being in love with the Jedi she had lain with the night of the blessing ceremony. Lursan had listened sympathetically, assuring Dalan he had done nothing wrong that night. Any full-blooded Ahjane male would have felt the same way and done the same thing.
Pouring the brandy into Dalan's snifter, Lursan reflected on how easy it had been to gain the young Dynast's confidence. He'd almost seemed eager to finally have someone to whom he could share his feelings of doubt and fear regarding Onara. Dalan was smitten with his wife in a way that, if Lursan had been capable of feeling such things, would have made him pity the young man.
But Lursan felt no pity towards Dalan. He felt nothing regarding him, for Dalan was merely a tool; an instrument whereby he would finally avenge the deaths of his son and his wife. Turning back to Dalan, Lursan gave him the glass of brandy. Dalan thanked him, quickly taking a sip as looked back up at Onara's portrait. Lursan, who stood next to him, released an appropriately, he hoped, sympathetic sigh.
"A most beautiful woman, Dalan."
Dalan nodded as he took another drink of his brandy.
"It's must be difficult for you to be parted her from like this," Lursan went on.
Dalan swallowed hard and Lursan noted his hand tightening around the snifter.
"Yes," he finally said. "Very difficult."
"You love her so much."
"I do," Dalan said, his voice thick with emotion. "Very much."
"And you must think of her every day and every night, I would imagine," Lursan said softly.
Dalan nodded again, but said nothing, his eyes reflecting the fire's light as he gazed hungrily up at Onara's portrait.
"And, it is to be hoped," Lursan said in a soft voice, "she thinks of you just as much in spite of her many....[i]distractions[/i] on Coruscant."
Dalan looked sharply over at Lursan. He saw the Dynast was about to respond, but the door to the drawing room suddenly burst open. Both men turned quickly. A dark-haired toddler with bright blue-gray eyes ran into the room, a clear square box in his hands. However, noting Lursan was in the room, the child stopped and stared.
"Papa," he said tentatively, his eyes moving between Dalan and Lursan.
Dalan put his glass of brandy on the mantelpiece. He walked over to the boy and bent down, putting his face close to the child's. Lursan noted the boy's face wrinkled slightly when he smelled the brandy on Dalan's breath.
"What do you have there, Ben?" Dalan asked, his voice slightly slurred.
Ben glanced over at Lursan. He had met the boy before, but only once. Yet, then, as now, Lursan was impressed with how striking looking a child he was. With his mother's thick dark hair and what Lursan could only assume were his Jedi father's blue-gray eyes, the boy was destined to grow up to be a very handsome man.
But what had surprised Lursan even more was how much Dalan seemed to love him. Any self-respecting Ahjane male would have at least accepted a child who came to him through marriage, though the child not be of his blood, but he certainly wouldn't act as if the child were his own flesh. But Dalan did. Even now, Lursan could see in his dark blue eyes the unabashed love he had for the boy.
"I'm sorry, Papa. I didn't mean to inter...inter..."
"Interrupt?" Dalan said gently.
Ben nodded, smiling.
"That's all right, Ben. But, next time, when the door is closed, it's polite to knock first."
"I will, Papa."
Dalan reached over and ruffled the boy's dark hair. "Now, properly greet Master Lursan."
Ben walked over to Lursan, the clear box filled with the brightly colored objects still between his hands. He bowed, his little face grave.
"Welcome to our home, Master Lursan," he said solemnly in his clear, child's voice.
Lursan nodded, but said nothing. Ben turned back to Dalan. "Now can I show you, Papa?"
"Yes, Ben. Now you can show me."
Lursan watched as the child showed Dalan his toy, explaining how he had used the Force to duplicate the pattern shown to him by Sinja-Bau. Just as he said her name, the silver-haired woman walked into the drawing room. Lursan tensed. Ever since he'd met the ex-Jedi he had felt uneasy in her presence. He knew that two years ago she had been stark raving mad and, as a result, had been cast out of the Jedi Order.
But, miraculously, not only had her sanity been restored, but so had her Jedi powers, and it was those powers that made Lursan uncomfortable. He didn't know much about this Force the Jedi wielded, so he often wondered if the looks Sinja-Bau gave him, her blue-green eyes seeming to bore into his soul, suggested she knew him for what he truly was. He did not think so, however, for surely she would have warned Dalan about him long before now. No, Lursan thought, as the woman walked over to Ben and stood behind him almost protectively, one of her slender hands resting on his shoulder, she appeared to only have suspicions about him. That was all. But it was enough.
"It is true, Sinja-Bau?" Dalan asked after Ben had done explaining what he'd accomplished with the toy.
Sinja-Bau, who had been staring at Lursan, drew her eyes from him and looked over at Dalan. She smiled.
"Yes, it's true. And, for someone his age, Ben did very well. As well as someone who had been Temple-trained." Then she blushed. "Though I don't mean it as some kind of boasting on my part," she quickly said. "I meant it as commentary on how gifted Ben is."
Ben, at her words, looked up at her and grinned. She returned his smile, but tapped him affectionately on his head as if to warn him not to get a swelled head.
"That's wonderful, Ben," Dalan said, taking the boy by his shoulders and squeezing him gently. "I'm very proud of you."
Ben blue-gray eyes lit up as he smiled at Dalan. "Thank you, Papa."
Sinja-Bau reached over and took Ben's arm. "Come, Ben. We mustn't disturb your father any longer." She gave Lursan a sharp, pointed look. "He has a guest."
"All right, Bau-Bau."
He took her hand and, with a last wide smile at Dalan, left the room with her. Once the door closed behind them, Lursan turned to Dalan.
"He will make a formidable Dynast," he said. "Never in our history has there been a Dynast with the power of the Jedi."
Dalan nodded somberly. He walked over and took his glass off the mantelpiece.
"That was what Onara's grandmother had wanted. That's why she made sure Onara..." Dalan stopped and took a long drink of his brandy. "...conceived a child with Obi-Wan."
"And the Jedi Order made no claims on him?"
Dalan shook his head. "Onara would not have given him up even if they had requested to train him."
Lursan moved closer to Dalan. "And yet, he is being trained after all."
Dalan looked sharply over at him. "What do you mean?"
"Sinja-Bau. She's a Jedi."
"Ex-Jedi. They cast her out long ago. She has no loyalty to them."
"Perhaps," Lursan replied. "She may no longer have a loyalty to the Jedi Order, but she may still have a loyalty to this Force of hers."
Dalan frowned at Lursan. He took another drink of his brandy, draining it. Lursan took it and poured more brandy into it.
"What are you saying, Lursan?" Dalan asked after taking a drink once the glass was back in his hand, his voice now clearly slurred.
"I'm only suggesting it may be in your best interest to keep an eye on her."
"Keep an eye on her? Why? She'd rather die than hurt Ben."
"Of course she would," Lursan said soothingly. "But she may find herself compelled to do things that may not coincide with your plans for the boy. He is to rule your province, is he not?"
Dalan nodded.
"Well, in that case, it may be wise to at least ensure things happen as you plan, not as she wants."
Dalan moved away from the fireplace, his glass in hand. "I'm still not sure what it is you're suggesting, Lursan. First you tell me I should be mindful of what's happening with Onara on Coruscant, now that I must be wary of Sinja-Bau."
Lursan frowned as he watched Dalan make his way to one of the overstuffed chairs and sit heavily in it. It was true Lursan had, subtly but undeniably, instilled doubt within the Dynast's mind regarding the faithfulness of his wife. Lursan still had not worked out completely in his mind how he was going to get his revenge against Skywalker and that master of his, but he sensed Onara and, perhaps, Ben were the key.
Planting those seeds of doubt within Dalan regarding Onara's fidelity was something Lursan had done purely on instinct, believing that, when the time came, it would bear dark fruit. But, as Lursan walked over to Dalan, he also knew he had to be very careful. Dalan's love for Onara and Ben and his admiration for Sinja-Bau ran deep. If Lursan wanted to manipulate those feelings to his purposes, he would have to tread carefully, for Dalan was no fool.
"Just keep an eye on Sinja-Bau for the time being," Lursan said, placing a hand on Dalan's shoulder and squeezing it. "Just to ensure that whatever she teaches the boy is in your best interest."
Dalan nodded thoughtfully. Then he looked up at Lursan, his dark blue eyes, which had been blurry with drink, now suddenly sharp and clear.
"And what of Onara?"
"She is your wife." Lursan shrugged. "If she loves you and only you, as any man should believe is true of his beloved wife, and you are completely certain and convinced of it in your heart, there is nothing for you to fear regarding her, is there?"
Dalan took a deep drink from his glass, then looked over at Onara's portrait, his eyes swimming with doubt.
"No," he whispered, his voice was unsteady. "There is nothing for me to fear."
Lursan smiled and patted Dalan on the shoulder. Then, noting Dalan's glass was once again empty, Lursan took it and poured more brandy into it.
To be continued...
Now, a quick note about this post. In "First Knight", if you recall, Lady Tsara hired the Red Tide to kidnap Ben and kill Dynast K'lia. The leader of the Red Tide was a man named Latan. (If you don't remember, that's okay. He wasn't in the story very much. :) ) Anyway, it was Latan's son who was killed by Anakin. Well, Latan is in this chapter, but I changed his name to LURSAN because Latan was too similar to Dalan and might have been a bit confusing. Okay on with the chapter. :)
Stars in the Darkness - Part Thirteen
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Sinja-Bau watched, willing herself not to smile, as Ben, his little forehead furrowed, his large blue-gray eyes unblinking, stared at the clear square block he held between his hands. Inside the block were a number of brightly-colored objects of varying shapes and sizes. As she had instructed, he was moving the objects around using the Force, his intent to duplicate the pattern she had demonstrated to him. They'd been working with the Alter Toy everyday for the past week, but Ben was still having trouble reproducing the pattern. Today, she sensed, he was determined to succeed.
The Alter Toy was among several Force training aids Sinja-Bau had requested from the Temple for Ben's training. She had not been confident, however, that her request would be granted. She was no longer a member of the Jedi Order, having been cast out of it when she went insane, her Force powers stripped from her. Yet, a week ago, a package had arrived from Coruscant, from Master Yoda himself, with the toys she'd requested inside. There'd been no note or letter accompanying the package, but Sinja-Bau had not expected any.
When Obi-Wan finally found her on Toola, seeking her aid in saving Onara's life, the Force not only cured her of her madness, but returned her powers to her. She had, however, not been invited back to the Jedi Order, nor had she sought to be reinstated. She had elected to remain on Ahjane with Onara, helping her rule her province after her father's death and seeing to the care and training of her Force sensitive child.
And, as the two years she'd lived here gone swiftly past, Sinja-Bau could not imagine any place she would rather be than on this beautiful, pastoral world as tutor and nanny to this equally beautiful, extraordinary child, for Ben had become not only her student and her charge, but the child she would never have.
Mindful, of course, that not one, not two, but three people had claim to him as their son, Sinja-Bau never forgot what her true status was in relation to Ben. But, if anyone ever dared to raise a hand against him, or harm him in anyway, they would be witness to something rarely seen in the galaxy: the wrath of someone with the power of the Jedi, but no longer proscribed by its rules.
Then, noting Ben was picking up on her feelings, for he was glancing worriedly at her, Sinja-Bau quickly calmed herself. It was that man who had caused her protective instincts regarding Ben to rise to the surface. Dalan's new best friend. Lursan. Even now, thinking of him, it took all of Sinja-Bau's willpower not to let her suspicions about him overwhelm her.
He was, supposedly, a business associate of Dalan's, a dealer in antiquities and exotic rugs, quite wealthy and well-respected in the capital, but from the first time Dalan had introduced him to her, Sinja-Bau felt uneasy about him, but was never able to pinpoint why. On the surface he appeared pleasant enough, with his storm-gray eyes and genteel manners. But there was something about him, elusive and subtle, that reminded her of the movements of a moon-cobra; disarmingly charming the moon-cobra was, as it dipped and bobbed its white, hooded head until, suddenly, it struck, viciously and fatally. Then, once again noting Ben was glancing over at her, Sinja-Bau dismissed Lursan from her mind.
"You must not lose your concentration, Ben. Focus, or you will lose the pattern."
Ben nodded and looked back at the crystal block. The objects inside it darted about as he struggled to duplicate the pattern Sinja-Bau had shown him. He had almost completed it, but there was one object, a blue hexagon, he was having trouble fitting with the rest.
Sinja-Bau held her breath. The Alter Toy also had a timer on it, and Ben had only a few seconds remaining to complete the pattern. His frown deepened as he used the Force to sweep the hexagon around as he searched for where to put it. Then, finally discovering where it belonged, he slid it smoothly in. A second later the timer beeped.
"Well done!" Sinja-Bau cried.
Ben looked over at her, a wide smile on his cherubic face, his blue-gray eyes shining. "I did it, Bau-Bau. I did it!"
"Yes, you did, and I'm very proud of you, Ben. You worked very hard and did not give up."
He looked back at the completed pattern within the crystal block. "I wish Mama was here so I could show her."
Sinja-Bau reached over and stroked his soft, warm cheek. "If she were here, I know she would be very proud of you too."
Ben nodded, his eyes dimming for a moment. Sinja-Bau knew he missed Onara terribly, though he put up a brave front about it. She had tried to be something of a substitute for his mother, telling him stories at night before he went to sleep. Not about Obi-Wan, of course, for that was between Onara and Ben, but she'd ordered some children's books from the capital, and Ben had seemed to enjoy those.
He stared solemnly at the colorful pattern within the crystal block. Then his eyes brightened. He turned and went over to the small table in his room. On it, resting among his toys, its eight legs tucked under its round furriness, its eyes closed, and its eartfufts twitching as it napped, was Ben's pet voorpak, the one he had named Obi-Wan.
"Look, Obi-Wan," he said, showing the Alter Toy to the voorpak, but as Ben continued to hold the crystal block in front of it, the creature did not stir or open an eye. It slept on, oblivious to the need of a small boy to share his accomplishment with someone.
Sinja-Bau smiled. "Ben," she called.
He turned and looked at her.
"Perhaps your father would like to see what you did."
A wide smile split his face. "Yes, I'll show it to Papa."
He moved away from the table, running for the door.
"Walk, Ben," Sinja-Bau admonished him.
"Yes, Bau-Bau," he said, somewhat slowing his steps, but his small body was still moving at a rather hurried velocity. She followed him out of his room and into the corridor. One of the servants was passing by. Sinja-Bau stopped her and asked where Dalan was.
"In the drawing room, with Master Lursan."
Sinja-Bau felt a chill slither down her spine. She'd had no idea Lursan was here. He'd been at the manor just a few days ago. But, over the past couple of weeks, he'd been spending a lot of time here, and he and Dalan would sit in the drawing room behind closed doors for hours, their voices rising and falling.
Sinja-Bau, however, had no idea what it was they discussed, for she was never privy to their conversations. She assumed it was matters of business and state, but she had also noted that every time Lursan left, Dalan would be tense and agitated afterwards. He had also taking to drinking with Lursan, something he had stopped doing after the night of the storm when he and Onara had their terrible fight.
Although Dalan had been distressed by Twang's first broadcast he, like her, had brushed it off as nothing more than lewd gossip, for he knew Onara well enough to know she would never do anything so stupid as to publicly have an affair with Obi-Wan. He had been more concerned about how it was affecting her. Twang's retraction and apology the following day had then confirmed what he and Sinja-Bau both knew. There was nothing to what had been said about Onara and Obi-Wan.
However, a few days later, after Lursan had paid another one of his visits to the manor, then left, and Ben was up in his room playing, Dalan and Sinja-Bau had been discussing when to take him to Coruscant. When she suggested within the month, Dalan gave her a sharp, stabbing look.
"No, I think not," he said, his dark blue eyes wintry as he looked down at her. "Ben shouldn't be around Onara right now. It would not be good for him."
Sinja-Bau had asked him what he meant by that, but Dalan had not answered her, only repeating that he would not take Ben to Coruscant next month. Now, recalling the conversation, she was about to tell Ben he should wait until after Lursan had left to show Dalan the Alter Toy but he, having heard the servant's words, was already racing down the wide staircase to the lower floor. Sinja-Bau thanked the servant and hurriedly followed him.
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Lursan Tihon, once the leader of the Red Tide, nursed his snifter of Corellian brandy as he looked over at Dalan. The young Dynast, a brandy also in hand, was standing in front of the large oil painting of his wife, Senator Onara Gavon Lenor, which hung over the huge fireplace in the drawing room.
Lursan sat in a plush, blue chair near the fireplace, but Dalan had paced about the room as they had talked and then, at one point in the conversation, had stopped in front of the painting. He now stared at it, his dark blue eyes filled with both longing and suspicion. Lursan smiled to himself as he lifted his glass and sipped at the brandy.
Sliding his gaze away from Dalan and up at the painting, he too stared at the beautiful, young Senator. He saw nothing in her of that battle ax of a grandmother, the formidable Lady Tsara. Onara's large, dark eyes, even in the painting, conveyed only promises of pleasure and passion that her full, lush mouth and slender, but voluptuous body, seemed more than willing to deliver.
Dressed in a gown of crimson velvet ornamented in gold, the low décolletage hanging off her slender shoulders, Onara's dress was laced tightly with gold cord about her slender waist, its full, round skirt flowing to the floor. Her rich, dark hair was piled high on her head, tiny rubies glittering in her dainty ears, and to Lursan's eyes she looked every inch the daughter, wife and mother of a Dynast. Lursan didn't blame Dalan for wanting so desperately to hold on to such a prize.
Glancing back at Dalan, who raised his snifter of brandy and drank from it as he continued to gaze up at Onara, Lursan felt a twinge of pain as he thought of his own wife. She had died a few months ago, finally succumbing to the illness that her plagued her since the day Lursan returned to their home to tell her their only child was dead.
Rhad had died the night of the raid on Dynast K'lia's manor, killed by that Jedi apprentice, Anakin Skywalker. It had taken Lursan's wife nearly two years to finally die, suffering every day of her life as she mourned the loss of their son. During that time, thoughts of vengeance, though never far from Lursan's mind, had been set aside as he cared for his wife. Finally, mercifully, she had passed on.
Now, all that remained in Lursan's heart was revenge for the Jedi who had taken away not only his son, but his beloved wife. He had disbanded the Red Tide after Rhad's death, for as the Red Tide had been passed on to Lursan from his father, and to his father from his father, Lursan had planned to pass it on to Rhad. But with his son's death, and the death of many of its finest members in that debacle of a raid two years ago, Lursan had dissolved the Red Tide, focusing initially on caring for his ailing wife, establishing the business he now owned and, with his wife's death, planning his revenge against Skywalker and Kenobi.
Noting Dalan's glass was empty, Lursan placed his own on a table next to his chair and went over to him. Dalan, who was still gazing up at Onara's portrait, jumped a bit when Lursan took the empty glass from his hand, then smiled sheepishly.
"Let me get you some more," Lursan said in a smooth, low voice.
Dalan's dark blue eyes grew worried. "I...I've probably had enough."
Lursan shook his head, easing the glass out of Dalan's hand. "Nonsense. It's not every day I get a shipment of Corellian brandy in. We mustn't let it go to waste."
Dalan nodded in agreement. Lursan turned and took the glass to the table where the carafe of brandy sat. He knew Dalan was concerned he'd been drinking too much of late. He had told Lursan about the night of the storm, when in an attempt to drown his sorrows over the loss of his and Onara's baby, he had gotten drunk and accused his wife of still being in love with the Jedi she had lain with the night of the blessing ceremony. Lursan had listened sympathetically, assuring Dalan he had done nothing wrong that night. Any full-blooded Ahjane male would have felt the same way and done the same thing.
Pouring the brandy into Dalan's snifter, Lursan reflected on how easy it had been to gain the young Dynast's confidence. He'd almost seemed eager to finally have someone to whom he could share his feelings of doubt and fear regarding Onara. Dalan was smitten with his wife in a way that, if Lursan had been capable of feeling such things, would have made him pity the young man.
But Lursan felt no pity towards Dalan. He felt nothing regarding him, for Dalan was merely a tool; an instrument whereby he would finally avenge the deaths of his son and his wife. Turning back to Dalan, Lursan gave him the glass of brandy. Dalan thanked him, quickly taking a sip as looked back up at Onara's portrait. Lursan, who stood next to him, released an appropriately, he hoped, sympathetic sigh.
"A most beautiful woman, Dalan."
Dalan nodded as he took another drink of his brandy.
"It's must be difficult for you to be parted her from like this," Lursan went on.
Dalan swallowed hard and Lursan noted his hand tightening around the snifter.
"Yes," he finally said. "Very difficult."
"You love her so much."
"I do," Dalan said, his voice thick with emotion. "Very much."
"And you must think of her every day and every night, I would imagine," Lursan said softly.
Dalan nodded again, but said nothing, his eyes reflecting the fire's light as he gazed hungrily up at Onara's portrait.
"And, it is to be hoped," Lursan said in a soft voice, "she thinks of you just as much in spite of her many....[i]distractions[/i] on Coruscant."
Dalan looked sharply over at Lursan. He saw the Dynast was about to respond, but the door to the drawing room suddenly burst open. Both men turned quickly. A dark-haired toddler with bright blue-gray eyes ran into the room, a clear square box in his hands. However, noting Lursan was in the room, the child stopped and stared.
"Papa," he said tentatively, his eyes moving between Dalan and Lursan.
Dalan put his glass of brandy on the mantelpiece. He walked over to the boy and bent down, putting his face close to the child's. Lursan noted the boy's face wrinkled slightly when he smelled the brandy on Dalan's breath.
"What do you have there, Ben?" Dalan asked, his voice slightly slurred.
Ben glanced over at Lursan. He had met the boy before, but only once. Yet, then, as now, Lursan was impressed with how striking looking a child he was. With his mother's thick dark hair and what Lursan could only assume were his Jedi father's blue-gray eyes, the boy was destined to grow up to be a very handsome man.
But what had surprised Lursan even more was how much Dalan seemed to love him. Any self-respecting Ahjane male would have at least accepted a child who came to him through marriage, though the child not be of his blood, but he certainly wouldn't act as if the child were his own flesh. But Dalan did. Even now, Lursan could see in his dark blue eyes the unabashed love he had for the boy.
"I'm sorry, Papa. I didn't mean to inter...inter..."
"Interrupt?" Dalan said gently.
Ben nodded, smiling.
"That's all right, Ben. But, next time, when the door is closed, it's polite to knock first."
"I will, Papa."
Dalan reached over and ruffled the boy's dark hair. "Now, properly greet Master Lursan."
Ben walked over to Lursan, the clear box filled with the brightly colored objects still between his hands. He bowed, his little face grave.
"Welcome to our home, Master Lursan," he said solemnly in his clear, child's voice.
Lursan nodded, but said nothing. Ben turned back to Dalan. "Now can I show you, Papa?"
"Yes, Ben. Now you can show me."
Lursan watched as the child showed Dalan his toy, explaining how he had used the Force to duplicate the pattern shown to him by Sinja-Bau. Just as he said her name, the silver-haired woman walked into the drawing room. Lursan tensed. Ever since he'd met the ex-Jedi he had felt uneasy in her presence. He knew that two years ago she had been stark raving mad and, as a result, had been cast out of the Jedi Order.
But, miraculously, not only had her sanity been restored, but so had her Jedi powers, and it was those powers that made Lursan uncomfortable. He didn't know much about this Force the Jedi wielded, so he often wondered if the looks Sinja-Bau gave him, her blue-green eyes seeming to bore into his soul, suggested she knew him for what he truly was. He did not think so, however, for surely she would have warned Dalan about him long before now. No, Lursan thought, as the woman walked over to Ben and stood behind him almost protectively, one of her slender hands resting on his shoulder, she appeared to only have suspicions about him. That was all. But it was enough.
"It is true, Sinja-Bau?" Dalan asked after Ben had done explaining what he'd accomplished with the toy.
Sinja-Bau, who had been staring at Lursan, drew her eyes from him and looked over at Dalan. She smiled.
"Yes, it's true. And, for someone his age, Ben did very well. As well as someone who had been Temple-trained." Then she blushed. "Though I don't mean it as some kind of boasting on my part," she quickly said. "I meant it as commentary on how gifted Ben is."
Ben, at her words, looked up at her and grinned. She returned his smile, but tapped him affectionately on his head as if to warn him not to get a swelled head.
"That's wonderful, Ben," Dalan said, taking the boy by his shoulders and squeezing him gently. "I'm very proud of you."
Ben blue-gray eyes lit up as he smiled at Dalan. "Thank you, Papa."
Sinja-Bau reached over and took Ben's arm. "Come, Ben. We mustn't disturb your father any longer." She gave Lursan a sharp, pointed look. "He has a guest."
"All right, Bau-Bau."
He took her hand and, with a last wide smile at Dalan, left the room with her. Once the door closed behind them, Lursan turned to Dalan.
"He will make a formidable Dynast," he said. "Never in our history has there been a Dynast with the power of the Jedi."
Dalan nodded somberly. He walked over and took his glass off the mantelpiece.
"That was what Onara's grandmother had wanted. That's why she made sure Onara..." Dalan stopped and took a long drink of his brandy. "...conceived a child with Obi-Wan."
"And the Jedi Order made no claims on him?"
Dalan shook his head. "Onara would not have given him up even if they had requested to train him."
Lursan moved closer to Dalan. "And yet, he is being trained after all."
Dalan looked sharply over at him. "What do you mean?"
"Sinja-Bau. She's a Jedi."
"Ex-Jedi. They cast her out long ago. She has no loyalty to them."
"Perhaps," Lursan replied. "She may no longer have a loyalty to the Jedi Order, but she may still have a loyalty to this Force of hers."
Dalan frowned at Lursan. He took another drink of his brandy, draining it. Lursan took it and poured more brandy into it.
"What are you saying, Lursan?" Dalan asked after taking a drink once the glass was back in his hand, his voice now clearly slurred.
"I'm only suggesting it may be in your best interest to keep an eye on her."
"Keep an eye on her? Why? She'd rather die than hurt Ben."
"Of course she would," Lursan said soothingly. "But she may find herself compelled to do things that may not coincide with your plans for the boy. He is to rule your province, is he not?"
Dalan nodded.
"Well, in that case, it may be wise to at least ensure things happen as you plan, not as she wants."
Dalan moved away from the fireplace, his glass in hand. "I'm still not sure what it is you're suggesting, Lursan. First you tell me I should be mindful of what's happening with Onara on Coruscant, now that I must be wary of Sinja-Bau."
Lursan frowned as he watched Dalan make his way to one of the overstuffed chairs and sit heavily in it. It was true Lursan had, subtly but undeniably, instilled doubt within the Dynast's mind regarding the faithfulness of his wife. Lursan still had not worked out completely in his mind how he was going to get his revenge against Skywalker and that master of his, but he sensed Onara and, perhaps, Ben were the key.
Planting those seeds of doubt within Dalan regarding Onara's fidelity was something Lursan had done purely on instinct, believing that, when the time came, it would bear dark fruit. But, as Lursan walked over to Dalan, he also knew he had to be very careful. Dalan's love for Onara and Ben and his admiration for Sinja-Bau ran deep. If Lursan wanted to manipulate those feelings to his purposes, he would have to tread carefully, for Dalan was no fool.
"Just keep an eye on Sinja-Bau for the time being," Lursan said, placing a hand on Dalan's shoulder and squeezing it. "Just to ensure that whatever she teaches the boy is in your best interest."
Dalan nodded thoughtfully. Then he looked up at Lursan, his dark blue eyes, which had been blurry with drink, now suddenly sharp and clear.
"And what of Onara?"
"She is your wife." Lursan shrugged. "If she loves you and only you, as any man should believe is true of his beloved wife, and you are completely certain and convinced of it in your heart, there is nothing for you to fear regarding her, is there?"
Dalan took a deep drink from his glass, then looked over at Onara's portrait, his eyes swimming with doubt.
"No," he whispered, his voice was unsteady. "There is nothing for me to fear."
Lursan smiled and patted Dalan on the shoulder. Then, noting Dalan's glass was once again empty, Lursan took it and poured more brandy into it.
To be continued...