Stars in the Darkness - Part Fourteen
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Lord Sidious, his face partially hidden by his dark cowl, sat in a large, but comfortable, black and red chair, in a dark chamber deep within the bowels of Coruscant. His hands rested on the arms of his chair as he gazed at the flickering holo-image of Lord Tyranus, also known as Count Dooku of Serenno, which was being transmitted from Raxus Prime.
Located on the Outer Rim, Raxus Prime had, like so many other worlds within the Republic, been transformed into nothing more than a dumping world. Its resources gutted by the many corporations that had used its wealth to provide the materials for whatever products they manufactured, Raxus Prime's surface was filled with the gutted and decaying hulls of ancient capital starships, huge pools of toxic sludge, and piles of refuse that rivaled those of its natural mountains. The atmosphere was hot and caustic, and an enduring cloud of foul-smelling gasses and fogs reduced visibility considerably.
Yet, there were those who lived and thrived on Raxus Prime. Sienar Fleet Systems, a starship manufacturer, had a number of refinery and reclamations plants there, and scavenger species, like the Jawas, conducted extensive salvage operations as they combed through the garbage and debris, looking to reclaim and recondition useable machinery.
It was from Raxus Prime that Count Dooku had commandeered a communications station and transmitted his message imploring systems within the Republic to join his Separatist movement. It had been broadcast throughout the Republic on a pirated channel of the HoloNet News and had, as Sidious knew it would, stirred up that hornet's nest known as the Galactic Senate.
Now more and more anxious Senators were calling upon Chancellor Palpatine to help pass the Military Creation Act, which had recently been introduced into the Senate. The Act called for the creation of an Army of the Republic to counter the growing secession movement. However, immediately upon the Act's introduction, Senator Amidala of Naboo, with the aid of Viceroy Organa of Alderaan, formed the Campaign Against Republic Militarization, hoping to find a peaceful solution to the secession problem.
Now, as Sidious stared silently at the patiently waiting bluish image of Lord Tyranus, his thoughts, as always, flowed along the interstices of the dark side of the Force, contemplating all that was happening within the galaxy. Sidious was privy to many things that were hidden to the Jedi who, as a result of the growing power of the dark side, were becoming weaker with each passing day. However, just as the Jedi were blind to the dark side, Sidious was blind to the light side. Two years ago his visions, which up until then had unfolded with such certainty, had become muddied; not by darkness, but by light.
"There is a disturbance in the Force," he said finally.
Tyranus' aristocratic face showed no emotion. "I have felt it too, my Master."
"And have you also felt its source?"
Sidious knew very well what the source of the disturbance was, but he regularly tested Tyranus. Count Dooku had once been a Jedi, one of their strongest, but Sidious suspected he wasn't as powerful an apprentice as the Dark Lord would eventually need and, therefore, would have to be replaced someday.
"Obi-Wan Kenobi is the source," Tyranus replied.
Sidious nodded slightly, pleased with the answer. Perhaps he would not have to replace Dooku too soon.
"That is true, Lord Tyranus. But, can you tell me why he is the source of the disturbance?"
"The woman. Senator Onara Lenor from Ahjane."
"And the child," Sidious added. "Do not forget the child."
Lord Tyranus nodded. Two years ago, Sidious had sent him to aid Onara's grandmother in her attempt to get her hands on Kenobi's son so that she could bring him up to one day rule Ahjane, with a little help from Sidious regarding his training. But the stupid woman had botched the entire operation and gotten herself killed in the process. Dismissing it at the time as a minor flux in the unfolding of his Grand Design, Sidious had turned his thoughts to other matters. But, of late, the disturbance in the Force centering around Kenobi was growing stronger. And there was also the problem of Anakin Skywalker.
In all of Sidious' visions regarding Skywalker, he had foreseen a growing division between him and his master. A division Sidious had planned to exploit one day. However, over the past two years, instead of growing apart, as should have occurred according to Sidious' visions, Skywalker and Kenobi had become even closer, more like father and son than master and apprentice. This Sidious had not foreseen, and it troubled him greatly.
"Master?" Tyranus said, breaking into his thoughts.
"Yes, Lord Tyranus?"
"If Kenobi is a danger to our plans, why do you not kill him?"
Sidious laughed softly. That was one of the things he both admired and detested about Dooku. He preferred lopping off the heads of his enemies instead of delighting, as Sidious did, in the subtle and leisurely annihilation of them. Tyranus wanted those who opposed him out of the way quickly and efficiently, whereas Sidious enjoyed watching his enemies suffer. And the longer they suffered, the more he enjoyed it.
Some years ago, Obi-Wan Kenobi had killed Darth Maul, Sidious' first apprentice, and the Dark Lord had not forgotten that. Therefore, when it came time for Kenobi to pay for what he'd done, Sidious was determined the Jedi would suffer. But not physically, for Kenobi was very strong, both in body and with the Force. No, there was another way he would make the Jedi pay, a way that would leave him not only broken in mind, but in spirit.
As a result of Kenobi's having participated, nearly three years ago, in that blessing ceremony on Ahjane, Sidious now had the means whereby he would not only exact his revenge for Maul's death, but one day bring Skywalker over to the dark side of the Force. The woman, Onara, and the child, Ben, as the Jedi Council and Sidious both knew, were Kenobi's weakness, and the key to Sidious' plan regarding the Jedi Knight.
"No, I will not kill Master Kenobi, Lord Tyranus. At least not yet. His training of Skywalker is going well. I do not want that interfered with."
Even through the flickering of the hologram, Sidious noted the rigid expression that moved across Tyranus' face at the mention of Skywalker. Although not entirely privy to Sidious' ultimate plans for the young Jedi, Tyranus also was no fool. The Sith tradition held that there could only be two dark lords, a master and an apprentice.
If Sidious, therefore, hoped someday to make Skywalker his apprentice, it would mean replacing Tyranus and, although he had made it clear the boy was not to be harmed, Sidious also made it a point to ensure Tyranus never got it into this head to try and kill Skywalker himself. Now he waited to see what his apprentice would say.
"Master," Tyranus began tentatively. "Are you absolutely certain Skywalker is essential to our plans? He is very strong with the Force, granted, but he's also quite unpredictable. As far as I've observed, he's nothing more than a brash, callow youth and could prove more of a liability than an asset."
Sidious nodded. Tyranus was still concerned that someday he would be replaced by Skywalker.
"Do not concern yourself with young Skywalker, Lord Tyranus. Leave him to me."
Sidious saw Dooku wanted to say more, but wisely did not. He smiled. Yes, Dooku was no fool. He was smart and he was powerful and, as always, Sidious would continue to watch him carefully, for at the first sign of treachery or disobedience on his part, Sidious would then crush him like a fly.
"What about Kenobi?" Tyranus asked instead.
"Do not worry about him either," Sidious replied coolly. "When the time comes, I will deal with Master Kenobi. However, until then, keep an eye on Senator Lenor. She and her child will prove quite useful to us. Although," and Sidious smiled, but it was a cold, dead smile, "that should not prove too difficult a task, as pleasing to the eye as she is, true?"
Tyranus nodded, smiling. "Quite true, my Master. She's certainly nothing like that grandmother of hers, the late and non-lamented Lady Tsara."
"Indeed. Perhaps, if you desire it, when the time comes I shall give her to you."
Sidious was well aware that Dooku, since leaving the Jedi Order, had indulged himself in a number of debauched and licentious diversions, especially those which had been forbidden to him during his long tenure as a Jedi. However, as long as those pleasures did not interfere with his work, Sidious allowed him to revel in them.
"Thank you, my Master," Tyranus said, bowing slightly, his dark eyes glittering.
"Senator Lenor's family will soon join her on Coruscant. When that happens I want you to find out if there is anyone close to her or her family who may prove useful to us."
"Yes, my Master. You are aware, of course, that Sinja-Bau has been living in the Senator's household these past two years and is training Kenobi's son."
Sidious pursed his lips. "Of course I'm aware of it," he snapped angrily, pleased to see a flicker of fear in Tyranus' eyes. "But I do not think she will be of any use to us. She may no longer be a member of the Jedi Order, but her devotion to the light side of the Force is still strong. No, find someone else. And, as you did with the Lady Tsara, do not make your presence known to anyone but your accomplice. As for Sinja-Bau, if she should prove to be an impediment to our plans, I will leave it to you to take care of her."
Tyranus inclined his white-haired head. "Of course, my Master."
"Remember, Lord Tyranus, our Grand Design is like a spider's web, each strand linked tightly to the other. We must move subtly, cunningly, as the spider does, so as not to rupture the structure or alert our enemies to our purpose, but once the web is complete, all will be snared within it, and those not caught within its mesh will be of no concern, for they will have been utterly destroyed."
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"Ruhhrrowww!"
The harsh, thunderous cry reverberated through the streets of De Ion. Anakin sighed, then groaned as Obi-Wan suddenly switched directions and headed toward the sound. Anakin followed him, but reluctantly. He and his master on been on Jurie for three weeks now, hunting down a band of outlaws who had been plaguing the small frontier towns. This current mission was just one among the dozens of hard, exhausting assignments they'd been given by the Council these last six months of their exile from Coruscant.
They had finally captured the criminals, bringing them to De Ion, the largest settlement on Jurie, where they handed them over to the authorities, but the pursuit and capture of the outlaws had taken a toll on the Jedi. Not only were they both dead dog tired, each had suffered injuries as a result of their mission, with Obi-Wan's being the most serious, for he had been shot by a blaster in the same shoulder Anakin had accidentally wounded him in nearly three years ago.
After having filed a report regarding their mission with De Ion's magistrate, a hard-faced woman named Aiza, who had thanked them, if rather frostily, for a job well-done, the two exhausted Jedi had been on their way to the local inn where quarters had been provided for them by the magistrate. Anakin had been looking forward to a hot, steaming bath, food he didn't have to kill in order to eat, and sleeping in a real bed instead of on the rough, cold ground, as he had been doing the last three weeks.
But no, Anakin thought, as he hurried to catch up with Obi-Wan who was running towards the sound of that roar, and the now discernable voices of a crowd shouting, his master just had to go and see what the ruckus was all about even if he was still weak from his blaster wound, could barely keep his eyes open from having been unable to sleep because of his nightmares, and looked like some wild man in his dusty clothes and longish beard and hair. Even Anakin was sporting a bit of a bush about his chin for such amenities as shaving had been out of the question during their hunt for the outlaws.
Having caught up with Obi-Wan, Anakin turned a corner with him. Both men stopped and stared. In the center of the town, around which the shops and taverns were located, a makeshift platform had recently been put up, for it had not been here three weeks ago when the Jedi first arrived on Jurie. Standing on the platform were a group of human males and in their midst, towering over them, was a two-meter tall Wookiee.
It was the Wookiee who had been roaring and he was still doing so. Wrapped about his legs and arms were thick metal chains and, although the Wookiee struggled mightily to escape them, Anakin had a feeling those chains were made of mandalorian iron. Mandalorian iron was virtually indestructible, even to a lightsaber blade and, Anakin also knew, quite expensive, so he wondered who on this backend of the galaxy planet had the money to have afforded such large amounts of it.
A crowd was gathered at the foot of the platform, and it looked as if the entire population of De Ion was present. Men, women, children, all of whom were human, for Jurie was one of those planets that had apparently only attracted humans during its colonization phase. That was one of the reasons Obi-Wan and Anakin had been assigned to Jurie.
The magistrate of De Ion had specifically requested the Council send a human only Jedi team to the planet, a request that had disturbed both Obi- Wan and Anakin, but the two had done as instructed and come to Jurie. Therefore, seeing the tall, shaggy Wookiee on a planet populated only by humans not only shocked Anakin, but it troubled him too. Especially since said Wookiee was in chains and in a great deal of distress as he continued to struggle and roar.
Glancing over at Obi-Wan, he saw his master was worried too. But, just as the two were about to make their way to the platform, a little boy on the edge of the crowd turned around and, spotting them, ran towards them. He was about six or seven, with a mop of unruly black hair and bright green eyes. He slid to a stop in from of them, dust ruffling about his boots.
"Are you the Jedi?" he asked breathlessly.
Obi-Wan crouched down, a smile nestled within his beard. Anakin smiled too. His master had the softest spot in his heart when it came to children now, especially any who reminded him of his son.
"Yes, we are," Obi-Wan replied.
The boy reached over and grabbed Obi-Wan's hand, his green eyes pleading.
"Please, help my friend. They're going to kill him."
Obi-Wan looked over at the platform, his eyes narrowing as the crowd at the foot of the platform screamed, shaking their fists at the howling Wookiee.
"The Wookiee is your friend?"
The boy nodded. "They're going to kill him. He didn't do nothing."
Anakin leaned down. "But if he didn't do anything, why do they want to kill him?"
The boy wiped at his nose with a grimy hand, leaving a smudge across his face.
"I don't know," he sniffed. "They say he's...he's nothing but a dirty, rotten animal and he don't belong around decent folks."
"Who said that?" Obi-Wan asked gently.
The boy gazed at Obi-Wan for a long moment, his green eyes shimmering.
"My Pa did," he said in a low, trembling voice.
Obi-Wan nodded. "Is your father one of the men on the platform?
"Yes." The boy pointed to a short, barrel-chested man with long black hair standing on the platform next to the Wookiee. He held a high-powered blaster rifle in the crook of his arm. "That's Pa."
Obi-Wan rose from where he'd been crouching as he spoke with the boy but, just as he started to walk towards the platform, Anakin quickly grabbed his arm.
"Master, no. You need to rest."
Obi-Wan smiled at Anakin as he reached over and gently removed Anakin's hand from around his arm.
"I'm fine, Padawan. Don't worry. And we must look into this. It doesn't feel right, does it?"
Anakin shook his head. No, it didn't feel right, and as he looked down at the boy who was gazing raptly up at him and Obi-Wan, hoping, like so many in the galaxy, that the Jedi would make everything all right, he knew they couldn't just turn anyway, no matter how worried Anakin was about Obi-Wan's physical condition.
His poor, exhausted master was holding himself together merely by the strength of his indomitable will. The last six months since they'd left Coruscant had been grueling ones, with this assignment on Jurie the most taxing of all. For that reason, as the two of them, accompanied by the boy, made their way towards the crowd, Anakin fervently hoped he and his master found a way to resolve this situation quickly and peaceably so Obi-Wan could finally get the rest he so desperately needed.
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Onara grunted as she slammed onto the mat, the breath whooshing out of chest. She stared for a moment up at the green and blue ceiling of the gymnasium, wondering what had possessed her to take Padmé up on her offer to join her and her handmaidens in their weekly martial arts workouts.
"Are you all right, Onara?"
Onara looked over to where Padmé, dressed like her in traditional Naboo training clothes of loose yellow jacket and pants, her hair, like Onara's, pulled back in a pony tail, gazed worriedly down at her. Just behind Padmé stood Cordé, Dormé and Keria.
"Yes, I think so," Onara said slowly as she sat up.
Keria ran over, putting her arm around her mistress's shoulders, but Onara brushed her gently away.
"No, no, Keria. I'm fine."
"If you say so, milady," Keria replied uncertainly, moving away so Onara could regain her feet on her own.
Once she was again standing, Onara adjusted her training jacket, then gave Padmé a wide smile who, relieved to see her friend wasn't hurt, quickly returned it.
"I'm sorry, Onara. I must have gotten a bit carried away on that last throw," Padmé said, her dark eyes dancing.
"A bit?" Dormé offered with a chuckle. "Really, milady. If you want Onara and Keria to join us again in our workouts, you'd better tone down what you consider a bit."
Padmé looked sheepishly over at Onara, who was vigorously shaking her head.
"No, if I'm going to learn how to do this," she said firmly, "I don't want you pulling any punches, Padmé. If someone were going to attack me for real, would they tone it down a bit?"
Padmé and Dormé exchanged anxious glances. Onara knew they were thinking of the recent death threats she'd received, which could only be related to her work on the Ethics Committee, for there was nothing else she had done these past six months on Coruscant to have warranted them.
Her work as a representative for Ahjane had generally involved welcoming visitors from her homeworld to Coruscant and voting on some minor bills. When Onara had accepted the appointment to the Ethics Committee, however, she'd had no idea just how much corruption there was within the Senate, but she soon found out it. It was enormous.
Ranging from the acceptance of inappropriate gifts, conflicts of interest, unreported financial disclosures, illegal campaign financing, bribery and kick-backs, most of Onara's time on Coruscant had been spent on the Committee, with her having to work long hours into the night, poring over datacards and computer files as she, Viceroy Organa and the other committee members worked to assemble the evidence to bring those who had violated the Senate's Code of Ethics to account.
But it had been like stopping up a dam whose floodgates had burst open, because the tide of corruption, bribery and vice among the Senate members was not a merely a flood, it was a deluge, and Onara felt as if she were drowning in it. No wonder Obi-Wan had been so critical of the government. She had seen enough evidence these past six months to have warranted his cynicism.
Moving back into the opening position for the kata Padmé had been demonstrating, Onara willed herself to concentrate on the exercise. But it was very difficult for there was so much on her mind of late. Besides the threats against her life and her growing frustration regarding the high level of corruption in the Senate, there were also her worries about Obi- Wan, Dalan and Ben.
Obi-Wan and Anakin had been gone from Coruscant for six months, and neither Onara nor Padmé had heard from either of them. Onara couldn't help thinking it was her fault Obi-Wan had been sent away and, every night, when she wrapped the shawl he had given her around her shoulders, she wondered how he was doing, and if he was suffering in any way for the galaxy had become a very dangerous place of late, and even the Jedi were hard pressed to keep a handle on it.
As for Dalan, his friendship with this man Lursan, which had concerned Sinja-Bau so much she had finally written Onara about it, did not seem to be lessening. According to Sinja-Bau, Lursan was still a frequent visitor to the manor and Dalan was still drinking. When Onara had asked in her weekly communiqué to Ahjane how it was affecting Ben, Sinja-Bau responded he didn't seem to have noticed anything was amiss with Dalan, but he did miss Onara greatly. Onara's heart hurt every time she thought of her son, for she missed him just as much.
Padmé, her dark eyes narrowed, suddenly grabbed Onara's shoulder, initiating the move that, once again, should have put Onara on her back on the mat, but Onara was ready this time. She countered Padmé's movement, and it was the Naboo Senator who was thrown onto the mat, not Onara.
"Well done," Dormé cried as she, Cordé and Keria clapped.
Padmé, who was grinning from where she lay on the mat, took Onara's hand as she offered it to her.
"Yes, well done, Onara," she said, standing up. "Would you like to do some more?"
Onara glanced over at Keria.
"We have time, milady," the blonde handmaiden replied. "The starliner won't be arriving for another five hours."
Onara nodded. That was another reason she had taken Padmé up on her offer to join her in the gym. Ben was on that starliner, along with Dalan, Sinja- Bau and, disturbingly, that Lursan fellow. No longer able to stand being parted from her son, Onara had asked Dalan to bring him to Coruscant. Ben was nearly three years old and, although six months wasn't a long time, it was nearly a lifetime in the life of a child and she had already missed so much of his growing up.
Dalan, however, as he had been doing the past several months, had hemmed and hawed, coming up with all kinds of excuses as to why Ben should not come to Coruscant. Onara had finally had enough and sent her husband a very heated message, demanding he bring Ben to Coruscant or she would come and get him herself. Dalan had finally agreed, and Onara had received assurances from Viceroy Organa, Chancellor Palpatine and, surprisingly, Master Yoda, that all would be done to ensure her son's safety, despite the threats against her.
Unable to remain at her apartment as she'd been too excited to do anything but pace the floor, Onara had eagerly accepted Padmé's invitation to the gym, believing the physical exercise would be a distraction. It hadn't, unfortunately, but it did relieve some of her frustration at how slowly the time was passing. Therefore, as she bowed to Padmé, Onara moved quickly into the opening position for another kata, telling herself that soon, very soon, her son would finally be in her arms.
To be continued...
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Lord Sidious, his face partially hidden by his dark cowl, sat in a large, but comfortable, black and red chair, in a dark chamber deep within the bowels of Coruscant. His hands rested on the arms of his chair as he gazed at the flickering holo-image of Lord Tyranus, also known as Count Dooku of Serenno, which was being transmitted from Raxus Prime.
Located on the Outer Rim, Raxus Prime had, like so many other worlds within the Republic, been transformed into nothing more than a dumping world. Its resources gutted by the many corporations that had used its wealth to provide the materials for whatever products they manufactured, Raxus Prime's surface was filled with the gutted and decaying hulls of ancient capital starships, huge pools of toxic sludge, and piles of refuse that rivaled those of its natural mountains. The atmosphere was hot and caustic, and an enduring cloud of foul-smelling gasses and fogs reduced visibility considerably.
Yet, there were those who lived and thrived on Raxus Prime. Sienar Fleet Systems, a starship manufacturer, had a number of refinery and reclamations plants there, and scavenger species, like the Jawas, conducted extensive salvage operations as they combed through the garbage and debris, looking to reclaim and recondition useable machinery.
It was from Raxus Prime that Count Dooku had commandeered a communications station and transmitted his message imploring systems within the Republic to join his Separatist movement. It had been broadcast throughout the Republic on a pirated channel of the HoloNet News and had, as Sidious knew it would, stirred up that hornet's nest known as the Galactic Senate.
Now more and more anxious Senators were calling upon Chancellor Palpatine to help pass the Military Creation Act, which had recently been introduced into the Senate. The Act called for the creation of an Army of the Republic to counter the growing secession movement. However, immediately upon the Act's introduction, Senator Amidala of Naboo, with the aid of Viceroy Organa of Alderaan, formed the Campaign Against Republic Militarization, hoping to find a peaceful solution to the secession problem.
Now, as Sidious stared silently at the patiently waiting bluish image of Lord Tyranus, his thoughts, as always, flowed along the interstices of the dark side of the Force, contemplating all that was happening within the galaxy. Sidious was privy to many things that were hidden to the Jedi who, as a result of the growing power of the dark side, were becoming weaker with each passing day. However, just as the Jedi were blind to the dark side, Sidious was blind to the light side. Two years ago his visions, which up until then had unfolded with such certainty, had become muddied; not by darkness, but by light.
"There is a disturbance in the Force," he said finally.
Tyranus' aristocratic face showed no emotion. "I have felt it too, my Master."
"And have you also felt its source?"
Sidious knew very well what the source of the disturbance was, but he regularly tested Tyranus. Count Dooku had once been a Jedi, one of their strongest, but Sidious suspected he wasn't as powerful an apprentice as the Dark Lord would eventually need and, therefore, would have to be replaced someday.
"Obi-Wan Kenobi is the source," Tyranus replied.
Sidious nodded slightly, pleased with the answer. Perhaps he would not have to replace Dooku too soon.
"That is true, Lord Tyranus. But, can you tell me why he is the source of the disturbance?"
"The woman. Senator Onara Lenor from Ahjane."
"And the child," Sidious added. "Do not forget the child."
Lord Tyranus nodded. Two years ago, Sidious had sent him to aid Onara's grandmother in her attempt to get her hands on Kenobi's son so that she could bring him up to one day rule Ahjane, with a little help from Sidious regarding his training. But the stupid woman had botched the entire operation and gotten herself killed in the process. Dismissing it at the time as a minor flux in the unfolding of his Grand Design, Sidious had turned his thoughts to other matters. But, of late, the disturbance in the Force centering around Kenobi was growing stronger. And there was also the problem of Anakin Skywalker.
In all of Sidious' visions regarding Skywalker, he had foreseen a growing division between him and his master. A division Sidious had planned to exploit one day. However, over the past two years, instead of growing apart, as should have occurred according to Sidious' visions, Skywalker and Kenobi had become even closer, more like father and son than master and apprentice. This Sidious had not foreseen, and it troubled him greatly.
"Master?" Tyranus said, breaking into his thoughts.
"Yes, Lord Tyranus?"
"If Kenobi is a danger to our plans, why do you not kill him?"
Sidious laughed softly. That was one of the things he both admired and detested about Dooku. He preferred lopping off the heads of his enemies instead of delighting, as Sidious did, in the subtle and leisurely annihilation of them. Tyranus wanted those who opposed him out of the way quickly and efficiently, whereas Sidious enjoyed watching his enemies suffer. And the longer they suffered, the more he enjoyed it.
Some years ago, Obi-Wan Kenobi had killed Darth Maul, Sidious' first apprentice, and the Dark Lord had not forgotten that. Therefore, when it came time for Kenobi to pay for what he'd done, Sidious was determined the Jedi would suffer. But not physically, for Kenobi was very strong, both in body and with the Force. No, there was another way he would make the Jedi pay, a way that would leave him not only broken in mind, but in spirit.
As a result of Kenobi's having participated, nearly three years ago, in that blessing ceremony on Ahjane, Sidious now had the means whereby he would not only exact his revenge for Maul's death, but one day bring Skywalker over to the dark side of the Force. The woman, Onara, and the child, Ben, as the Jedi Council and Sidious both knew, were Kenobi's weakness, and the key to Sidious' plan regarding the Jedi Knight.
"No, I will not kill Master Kenobi, Lord Tyranus. At least not yet. His training of Skywalker is going well. I do not want that interfered with."
Even through the flickering of the hologram, Sidious noted the rigid expression that moved across Tyranus' face at the mention of Skywalker. Although not entirely privy to Sidious' ultimate plans for the young Jedi, Tyranus also was no fool. The Sith tradition held that there could only be two dark lords, a master and an apprentice.
If Sidious, therefore, hoped someday to make Skywalker his apprentice, it would mean replacing Tyranus and, although he had made it clear the boy was not to be harmed, Sidious also made it a point to ensure Tyranus never got it into this head to try and kill Skywalker himself. Now he waited to see what his apprentice would say.
"Master," Tyranus began tentatively. "Are you absolutely certain Skywalker is essential to our plans? He is very strong with the Force, granted, but he's also quite unpredictable. As far as I've observed, he's nothing more than a brash, callow youth and could prove more of a liability than an asset."
Sidious nodded. Tyranus was still concerned that someday he would be replaced by Skywalker.
"Do not concern yourself with young Skywalker, Lord Tyranus. Leave him to me."
Sidious saw Dooku wanted to say more, but wisely did not. He smiled. Yes, Dooku was no fool. He was smart and he was powerful and, as always, Sidious would continue to watch him carefully, for at the first sign of treachery or disobedience on his part, Sidious would then crush him like a fly.
"What about Kenobi?" Tyranus asked instead.
"Do not worry about him either," Sidious replied coolly. "When the time comes, I will deal with Master Kenobi. However, until then, keep an eye on Senator Lenor. She and her child will prove quite useful to us. Although," and Sidious smiled, but it was a cold, dead smile, "that should not prove too difficult a task, as pleasing to the eye as she is, true?"
Tyranus nodded, smiling. "Quite true, my Master. She's certainly nothing like that grandmother of hers, the late and non-lamented Lady Tsara."
"Indeed. Perhaps, if you desire it, when the time comes I shall give her to you."
Sidious was well aware that Dooku, since leaving the Jedi Order, had indulged himself in a number of debauched and licentious diversions, especially those which had been forbidden to him during his long tenure as a Jedi. However, as long as those pleasures did not interfere with his work, Sidious allowed him to revel in them.
"Thank you, my Master," Tyranus said, bowing slightly, his dark eyes glittering.
"Senator Lenor's family will soon join her on Coruscant. When that happens I want you to find out if there is anyone close to her or her family who may prove useful to us."
"Yes, my Master. You are aware, of course, that Sinja-Bau has been living in the Senator's household these past two years and is training Kenobi's son."
Sidious pursed his lips. "Of course I'm aware of it," he snapped angrily, pleased to see a flicker of fear in Tyranus' eyes. "But I do not think she will be of any use to us. She may no longer be a member of the Jedi Order, but her devotion to the light side of the Force is still strong. No, find someone else. And, as you did with the Lady Tsara, do not make your presence known to anyone but your accomplice. As for Sinja-Bau, if she should prove to be an impediment to our plans, I will leave it to you to take care of her."
Tyranus inclined his white-haired head. "Of course, my Master."
"Remember, Lord Tyranus, our Grand Design is like a spider's web, each strand linked tightly to the other. We must move subtly, cunningly, as the spider does, so as not to rupture the structure or alert our enemies to our purpose, but once the web is complete, all will be snared within it, and those not caught within its mesh will be of no concern, for they will have been utterly destroyed."
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"Ruhhrrowww!"
The harsh, thunderous cry reverberated through the streets of De Ion. Anakin sighed, then groaned as Obi-Wan suddenly switched directions and headed toward the sound. Anakin followed him, but reluctantly. He and his master on been on Jurie for three weeks now, hunting down a band of outlaws who had been plaguing the small frontier towns. This current mission was just one among the dozens of hard, exhausting assignments they'd been given by the Council these last six months of their exile from Coruscant.
They had finally captured the criminals, bringing them to De Ion, the largest settlement on Jurie, where they handed them over to the authorities, but the pursuit and capture of the outlaws had taken a toll on the Jedi. Not only were they both dead dog tired, each had suffered injuries as a result of their mission, with Obi-Wan's being the most serious, for he had been shot by a blaster in the same shoulder Anakin had accidentally wounded him in nearly three years ago.
After having filed a report regarding their mission with De Ion's magistrate, a hard-faced woman named Aiza, who had thanked them, if rather frostily, for a job well-done, the two exhausted Jedi had been on their way to the local inn where quarters had been provided for them by the magistrate. Anakin had been looking forward to a hot, steaming bath, food he didn't have to kill in order to eat, and sleeping in a real bed instead of on the rough, cold ground, as he had been doing the last three weeks.
But no, Anakin thought, as he hurried to catch up with Obi-Wan who was running towards the sound of that roar, and the now discernable voices of a crowd shouting, his master just had to go and see what the ruckus was all about even if he was still weak from his blaster wound, could barely keep his eyes open from having been unable to sleep because of his nightmares, and looked like some wild man in his dusty clothes and longish beard and hair. Even Anakin was sporting a bit of a bush about his chin for such amenities as shaving had been out of the question during their hunt for the outlaws.
Having caught up with Obi-Wan, Anakin turned a corner with him. Both men stopped and stared. In the center of the town, around which the shops and taverns were located, a makeshift platform had recently been put up, for it had not been here three weeks ago when the Jedi first arrived on Jurie. Standing on the platform were a group of human males and in their midst, towering over them, was a two-meter tall Wookiee.
It was the Wookiee who had been roaring and he was still doing so. Wrapped about his legs and arms were thick metal chains and, although the Wookiee struggled mightily to escape them, Anakin had a feeling those chains were made of mandalorian iron. Mandalorian iron was virtually indestructible, even to a lightsaber blade and, Anakin also knew, quite expensive, so he wondered who on this backend of the galaxy planet had the money to have afforded such large amounts of it.
A crowd was gathered at the foot of the platform, and it looked as if the entire population of De Ion was present. Men, women, children, all of whom were human, for Jurie was one of those planets that had apparently only attracted humans during its colonization phase. That was one of the reasons Obi-Wan and Anakin had been assigned to Jurie.
The magistrate of De Ion had specifically requested the Council send a human only Jedi team to the planet, a request that had disturbed both Obi- Wan and Anakin, but the two had done as instructed and come to Jurie. Therefore, seeing the tall, shaggy Wookiee on a planet populated only by humans not only shocked Anakin, but it troubled him too. Especially since said Wookiee was in chains and in a great deal of distress as he continued to struggle and roar.
Glancing over at Obi-Wan, he saw his master was worried too. But, just as the two were about to make their way to the platform, a little boy on the edge of the crowd turned around and, spotting them, ran towards them. He was about six or seven, with a mop of unruly black hair and bright green eyes. He slid to a stop in from of them, dust ruffling about his boots.
"Are you the Jedi?" he asked breathlessly.
Obi-Wan crouched down, a smile nestled within his beard. Anakin smiled too. His master had the softest spot in his heart when it came to children now, especially any who reminded him of his son.
"Yes, we are," Obi-Wan replied.
The boy reached over and grabbed Obi-Wan's hand, his green eyes pleading.
"Please, help my friend. They're going to kill him."
Obi-Wan looked over at the platform, his eyes narrowing as the crowd at the foot of the platform screamed, shaking their fists at the howling Wookiee.
"The Wookiee is your friend?"
The boy nodded. "They're going to kill him. He didn't do nothing."
Anakin leaned down. "But if he didn't do anything, why do they want to kill him?"
The boy wiped at his nose with a grimy hand, leaving a smudge across his face.
"I don't know," he sniffed. "They say he's...he's nothing but a dirty, rotten animal and he don't belong around decent folks."
"Who said that?" Obi-Wan asked gently.
The boy gazed at Obi-Wan for a long moment, his green eyes shimmering.
"My Pa did," he said in a low, trembling voice.
Obi-Wan nodded. "Is your father one of the men on the platform?
"Yes." The boy pointed to a short, barrel-chested man with long black hair standing on the platform next to the Wookiee. He held a high-powered blaster rifle in the crook of his arm. "That's Pa."
Obi-Wan rose from where he'd been crouching as he spoke with the boy but, just as he started to walk towards the platform, Anakin quickly grabbed his arm.
"Master, no. You need to rest."
Obi-Wan smiled at Anakin as he reached over and gently removed Anakin's hand from around his arm.
"I'm fine, Padawan. Don't worry. And we must look into this. It doesn't feel right, does it?"
Anakin shook his head. No, it didn't feel right, and as he looked down at the boy who was gazing raptly up at him and Obi-Wan, hoping, like so many in the galaxy, that the Jedi would make everything all right, he knew they couldn't just turn anyway, no matter how worried Anakin was about Obi-Wan's physical condition.
His poor, exhausted master was holding himself together merely by the strength of his indomitable will. The last six months since they'd left Coruscant had been grueling ones, with this assignment on Jurie the most taxing of all. For that reason, as the two of them, accompanied by the boy, made their way towards the crowd, Anakin fervently hoped he and his master found a way to resolve this situation quickly and peaceably so Obi-Wan could finally get the rest he so desperately needed.
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Onara grunted as she slammed onto the mat, the breath whooshing out of chest. She stared for a moment up at the green and blue ceiling of the gymnasium, wondering what had possessed her to take Padmé up on her offer to join her and her handmaidens in their weekly martial arts workouts.
"Are you all right, Onara?"
Onara looked over to where Padmé, dressed like her in traditional Naboo training clothes of loose yellow jacket and pants, her hair, like Onara's, pulled back in a pony tail, gazed worriedly down at her. Just behind Padmé stood Cordé, Dormé and Keria.
"Yes, I think so," Onara said slowly as she sat up.
Keria ran over, putting her arm around her mistress's shoulders, but Onara brushed her gently away.
"No, no, Keria. I'm fine."
"If you say so, milady," Keria replied uncertainly, moving away so Onara could regain her feet on her own.
Once she was again standing, Onara adjusted her training jacket, then gave Padmé a wide smile who, relieved to see her friend wasn't hurt, quickly returned it.
"I'm sorry, Onara. I must have gotten a bit carried away on that last throw," Padmé said, her dark eyes dancing.
"A bit?" Dormé offered with a chuckle. "Really, milady. If you want Onara and Keria to join us again in our workouts, you'd better tone down what you consider a bit."
Padmé looked sheepishly over at Onara, who was vigorously shaking her head.
"No, if I'm going to learn how to do this," she said firmly, "I don't want you pulling any punches, Padmé. If someone were going to attack me for real, would they tone it down a bit?"
Padmé and Dormé exchanged anxious glances. Onara knew they were thinking of the recent death threats she'd received, which could only be related to her work on the Ethics Committee, for there was nothing else she had done these past six months on Coruscant to have warranted them.
Her work as a representative for Ahjane had generally involved welcoming visitors from her homeworld to Coruscant and voting on some minor bills. When Onara had accepted the appointment to the Ethics Committee, however, she'd had no idea just how much corruption there was within the Senate, but she soon found out it. It was enormous.
Ranging from the acceptance of inappropriate gifts, conflicts of interest, unreported financial disclosures, illegal campaign financing, bribery and kick-backs, most of Onara's time on Coruscant had been spent on the Committee, with her having to work long hours into the night, poring over datacards and computer files as she, Viceroy Organa and the other committee members worked to assemble the evidence to bring those who had violated the Senate's Code of Ethics to account.
But it had been like stopping up a dam whose floodgates had burst open, because the tide of corruption, bribery and vice among the Senate members was not a merely a flood, it was a deluge, and Onara felt as if she were drowning in it. No wonder Obi-Wan had been so critical of the government. She had seen enough evidence these past six months to have warranted his cynicism.
Moving back into the opening position for the kata Padmé had been demonstrating, Onara willed herself to concentrate on the exercise. But it was very difficult for there was so much on her mind of late. Besides the threats against her life and her growing frustration regarding the high level of corruption in the Senate, there were also her worries about Obi- Wan, Dalan and Ben.
Obi-Wan and Anakin had been gone from Coruscant for six months, and neither Onara nor Padmé had heard from either of them. Onara couldn't help thinking it was her fault Obi-Wan had been sent away and, every night, when she wrapped the shawl he had given her around her shoulders, she wondered how he was doing, and if he was suffering in any way for the galaxy had become a very dangerous place of late, and even the Jedi were hard pressed to keep a handle on it.
As for Dalan, his friendship with this man Lursan, which had concerned Sinja-Bau so much she had finally written Onara about it, did not seem to be lessening. According to Sinja-Bau, Lursan was still a frequent visitor to the manor and Dalan was still drinking. When Onara had asked in her weekly communiqué to Ahjane how it was affecting Ben, Sinja-Bau responded he didn't seem to have noticed anything was amiss with Dalan, but he did miss Onara greatly. Onara's heart hurt every time she thought of her son, for she missed him just as much.
Padmé, her dark eyes narrowed, suddenly grabbed Onara's shoulder, initiating the move that, once again, should have put Onara on her back on the mat, but Onara was ready this time. She countered Padmé's movement, and it was the Naboo Senator who was thrown onto the mat, not Onara.
"Well done," Dormé cried as she, Cordé and Keria clapped.
Padmé, who was grinning from where she lay on the mat, took Onara's hand as she offered it to her.
"Yes, well done, Onara," she said, standing up. "Would you like to do some more?"
Onara glanced over at Keria.
"We have time, milady," the blonde handmaiden replied. "The starliner won't be arriving for another five hours."
Onara nodded. That was another reason she had taken Padmé up on her offer to join her in the gym. Ben was on that starliner, along with Dalan, Sinja- Bau and, disturbingly, that Lursan fellow. No longer able to stand being parted from her son, Onara had asked Dalan to bring him to Coruscant. Ben was nearly three years old and, although six months wasn't a long time, it was nearly a lifetime in the life of a child and she had already missed so much of his growing up.
Dalan, however, as he had been doing the past several months, had hemmed and hawed, coming up with all kinds of excuses as to why Ben should not come to Coruscant. Onara had finally had enough and sent her husband a very heated message, demanding he bring Ben to Coruscant or she would come and get him herself. Dalan had finally agreed, and Onara had received assurances from Viceroy Organa, Chancellor Palpatine and, surprisingly, Master Yoda, that all would be done to ensure her son's safety, despite the threats against her.
Unable to remain at her apartment as she'd been too excited to do anything but pace the floor, Onara had eagerly accepted Padmé's invitation to the gym, believing the physical exercise would be a distraction. It hadn't, unfortunately, but it did relieve some of her frustration at how slowly the time was passing. Therefore, as she bowed to Padmé, Onara moved quickly into the opening position for another kata, telling herself that soon, very soon, her son would finally be in her arms.
To be continued...