Part Eighteen - Stars in the Darkness
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Lursan frowned as he watched Dalan pacing back and forth across the thick golden carpet of his luxury penthouse. The young Dynast was clearly agitated. He and his wife had argued again last night. This time about her miscarriage. Lursan put on a sympathetic face and made appropriate sounds of empathy, but he really didn't care about Dalan and Onara's dead baby. All he cared about was getting his revenge against the Jedi, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and his apprentice, Anakin Skywalker.
However, since Lursan had arrived on Coruscant he'd yet to come up with a plan as to how to get that revenge. His intuition told him Onara and her son were the key, but it wasn't until yesterday that he'd finally came up with one. Actually, Lursan grimaced, as Dalan moved away from him and over to the large windows that faced out on the cityscape, it wasn't his plan. It was Count Dooku's, but no matter. It was a good one.
"I'm losing her."
Lursan shifted his gaze and his attention back to Dalan. He stood facing the windows, his broad back enveloped in light. Lursan sighed. He would be glad when he was finally rid of this whining fool. Anyone with eyes could see Onara was still in love with the Jedi Knight and that she would always love him. If Dalan had any self-respect he would divorce Onara, or if he didn't want to do that, take a mistress. Onara was beautiful, but she certainly wasn't worth all this bellyaching. No woman was. No woman except for Lursan's wife.
Lursan closed his eyes as a spasm of pain tore through him. Melvia had not been a beauty like that arrogant young Senator, but her heart had been patient and full of love, and she had never judged Lursan for having been the leader of the Red Tide. She had accepted him, completely and lovingly. And now she was gone, as was his only child, killed by that young Jedi, and all Lursan had now in his heart was revenge for their deaths.
Opening his eyes as he pushed his pain deep down inside him, Lursan saw that Dalan had turned around and was staring curiously at him. Clearing his throat, Lursan rose from his chair and walked over to Dalan. He put a hand on his arm.
"Do not fear, my friend. You will not lose her. But, you may need to find a way of, shall we say, getting rid of that which keeps her from you."
Dalan frowned, his dark blue eyes puzzled. "Getting rid of? What? You mean him? The Jedi?"
Lursan shrugged. "The Jedi are not immortal, for all their vaunted abilities. They can die just like anyone else."
Dalan shook his head. "No, I won't murder."
"I'm not talking about murder," Lursan said quickly. "But accidents can and do happen. The Jedi are often called away on hazardous missions. Master Kenobi might just find himself in such dangerous circumstances and, if so, it could possibly be arranged that he never return. Then, once he's out of the picture, Onara would stop pining for him and realize, if she's an intelligent woman, and we both agree that she is, that you are the only man for her."
"I don't know," Dalan said, his dark brows drawing down over his eyes. "I don't want to hurt anyone. I just want Onara."
"Of course you do. But don't worry. Your hands will not be sullied in anyway. You will be entirely blameless."
Dalan stared at Lursan for a moment. Then he nodded quickly.
"Good," Lursan said as he gave Dalan a hearty slap on the shoulder. "Leave everything to me. However, I may call upon you at some point to assist me."
"Assist you? But you said---"
"Don't worry. Trust me, my friend. What I will ask if you will be a minor thing, I assure you."
"What do you have planned? And you're certain Onara and Ben won't be hurt?"
Lursan smiled, but if Dalan had been capable of looking beyond his short- sighted obsession with his wife, he might have seen that Lursan's smile didn't reach his eyes.
"I promise. Neither of them will be hurt. Now, go home and apologize to your wife. Tell her you're sorry. Buy her flowers, arrange for musicians to come and play for her, take her out to a romantic dinner for two, and then make sweet, gentle love to her. Let her know you no longer harbor any jealousy regarding her love for Master Kenobi."
"But I do harbor jealousy towards him." Dalan clenched his hands. "Just the idea that I'm on the same planet with him, knowing that Onara is thinking of him, longing to be with him." Dalan shook his head. "I don't know if I can pretend to feel something I don't."
Lursan sighed. Soon, he reminded himself, he would be rid of this whining Dynast, of Onara, of Skywalker and his master, of all of them. But, he had to be patient. That was what Count Dooku had advised him to be. Patient. Meeting the tall, regal Count had been the best thing that had happened to Lursan since coming to Coruscant.
The Count had been entirely sympathetic to Lursan's desire for revenge against Kenobi and Skywalker. Apparently both Jedi had committed some harm against him in the past, though he declined to discuss it with Lursan. He had given Lursan the idea for the plan, offering what assistance he could, but requiring only that Lursan keep the Count's involvement a secret. Especially from Dalan. Which Lursan was more than willing to do, for the longer he knew the Dynast the less he respected him.
"If you want Onara, you will find a way," Lursan said, squeezing Dalan's arm. "Swallow your pride, my friend. Tell yourself that soon Onara will be yours, completely and totally. Keep that in mind and you will be able to do what must be done. But for now, give her no reason to suspect anything is amiss."
Dalan finally nodded in assent. Lursan released his arm and walked over to the penthouse's elaborate bar. He fixed a drink for himself and Dalan and, as Dooku had instructed him, secretly slipped into Dalan's drink the drug the Count had given him. Lursan had never heard of the drug, but Dooku had assured him it would make Dalan make susceptible to any demands Lursan made on him.
Not that Lursan needed the drug especially, since his hold over Dalan was quite solid, but he knew that the young Dynast, for some inexplicable reason, deeply loved Ben. However, since the boy was key to Lursan's plan he had to be sure Dalan would do as Lursan wanted when it came time to implement it.
He handed the drink to Dalan. Smiling, the Dynast took it and, as he always did, saluted Onara with it. Lursan joined him in the salute, touching his glass against Dalan's.
"To the Senator," he said with a small smile. And to revenge, he added silently.
To be continued....
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Lursan frowned as he watched Dalan pacing back and forth across the thick golden carpet of his luxury penthouse. The young Dynast was clearly agitated. He and his wife had argued again last night. This time about her miscarriage. Lursan put on a sympathetic face and made appropriate sounds of empathy, but he really didn't care about Dalan and Onara's dead baby. All he cared about was getting his revenge against the Jedi, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and his apprentice, Anakin Skywalker.
However, since Lursan had arrived on Coruscant he'd yet to come up with a plan as to how to get that revenge. His intuition told him Onara and her son were the key, but it wasn't until yesterday that he'd finally came up with one. Actually, Lursan grimaced, as Dalan moved away from him and over to the large windows that faced out on the cityscape, it wasn't his plan. It was Count Dooku's, but no matter. It was a good one.
"I'm losing her."
Lursan shifted his gaze and his attention back to Dalan. He stood facing the windows, his broad back enveloped in light. Lursan sighed. He would be glad when he was finally rid of this whining fool. Anyone with eyes could see Onara was still in love with the Jedi Knight and that she would always love him. If Dalan had any self-respect he would divorce Onara, or if he didn't want to do that, take a mistress. Onara was beautiful, but she certainly wasn't worth all this bellyaching. No woman was. No woman except for Lursan's wife.
Lursan closed his eyes as a spasm of pain tore through him. Melvia had not been a beauty like that arrogant young Senator, but her heart had been patient and full of love, and she had never judged Lursan for having been the leader of the Red Tide. She had accepted him, completely and lovingly. And now she was gone, as was his only child, killed by that young Jedi, and all Lursan had now in his heart was revenge for their deaths.
Opening his eyes as he pushed his pain deep down inside him, Lursan saw that Dalan had turned around and was staring curiously at him. Clearing his throat, Lursan rose from his chair and walked over to Dalan. He put a hand on his arm.
"Do not fear, my friend. You will not lose her. But, you may need to find a way of, shall we say, getting rid of that which keeps her from you."
Dalan frowned, his dark blue eyes puzzled. "Getting rid of? What? You mean him? The Jedi?"
Lursan shrugged. "The Jedi are not immortal, for all their vaunted abilities. They can die just like anyone else."
Dalan shook his head. "No, I won't murder."
"I'm not talking about murder," Lursan said quickly. "But accidents can and do happen. The Jedi are often called away on hazardous missions. Master Kenobi might just find himself in such dangerous circumstances and, if so, it could possibly be arranged that he never return. Then, once he's out of the picture, Onara would stop pining for him and realize, if she's an intelligent woman, and we both agree that she is, that you are the only man for her."
"I don't know," Dalan said, his dark brows drawing down over his eyes. "I don't want to hurt anyone. I just want Onara."
"Of course you do. But don't worry. Your hands will not be sullied in anyway. You will be entirely blameless."
Dalan stared at Lursan for a moment. Then he nodded quickly.
"Good," Lursan said as he gave Dalan a hearty slap on the shoulder. "Leave everything to me. However, I may call upon you at some point to assist me."
"Assist you? But you said---"
"Don't worry. Trust me, my friend. What I will ask if you will be a minor thing, I assure you."
"What do you have planned? And you're certain Onara and Ben won't be hurt?"
Lursan smiled, but if Dalan had been capable of looking beyond his short- sighted obsession with his wife, he might have seen that Lursan's smile didn't reach his eyes.
"I promise. Neither of them will be hurt. Now, go home and apologize to your wife. Tell her you're sorry. Buy her flowers, arrange for musicians to come and play for her, take her out to a romantic dinner for two, and then make sweet, gentle love to her. Let her know you no longer harbor any jealousy regarding her love for Master Kenobi."
"But I do harbor jealousy towards him." Dalan clenched his hands. "Just the idea that I'm on the same planet with him, knowing that Onara is thinking of him, longing to be with him." Dalan shook his head. "I don't know if I can pretend to feel something I don't."
Lursan sighed. Soon, he reminded himself, he would be rid of this whining Dynast, of Onara, of Skywalker and his master, of all of them. But, he had to be patient. That was what Count Dooku had advised him to be. Patient. Meeting the tall, regal Count had been the best thing that had happened to Lursan since coming to Coruscant.
The Count had been entirely sympathetic to Lursan's desire for revenge against Kenobi and Skywalker. Apparently both Jedi had committed some harm against him in the past, though he declined to discuss it with Lursan. He had given Lursan the idea for the plan, offering what assistance he could, but requiring only that Lursan keep the Count's involvement a secret. Especially from Dalan. Which Lursan was more than willing to do, for the longer he knew the Dynast the less he respected him.
"If you want Onara, you will find a way," Lursan said, squeezing Dalan's arm. "Swallow your pride, my friend. Tell yourself that soon Onara will be yours, completely and totally. Keep that in mind and you will be able to do what must be done. But for now, give her no reason to suspect anything is amiss."
Dalan finally nodded in assent. Lursan released his arm and walked over to the penthouse's elaborate bar. He fixed a drink for himself and Dalan and, as Dooku had instructed him, secretly slipped into Dalan's drink the drug the Count had given him. Lursan had never heard of the drug, but Dooku had assured him it would make Dalan make susceptible to any demands Lursan made on him.
Not that Lursan needed the drug especially, since his hold over Dalan was quite solid, but he knew that the young Dynast, for some inexplicable reason, deeply loved Ben. However, since the boy was key to Lursan's plan he had to be sure Dalan would do as Lursan wanted when it came time to implement it.
He handed the drink to Dalan. Smiling, the Dynast took it and, as he always did, saluted Onara with it. Lursan joined him in the salute, touching his glass against Dalan's.
"To the Senator," he said with a small smile. And to revenge, he added silently.
To be continued....