Stars in the Darkness - Part Twenty-Two
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As Anakin waited before the closed doors of Chancellor Palpatine's inner office, he felt a slight chill in the air. Which was strange because, not only was he wearing his heavy Jedi robe, he could feel that the air temperature was actually quite temperate, if not a bit warm. Then he realized that the chill he felt was not a physical one, but was coming to him through the Force. However, before he could focus on the source of the psychic coldness, the doors slid open and, straightening his robe, he strode into Palpatine's office.
Although Anakin had met with Palpatine before, he had never been invited into the Chancellor's inner office. Palpatine was standing near the wide, room sized window, dressed in a dark robe, his white, leonine head surrounded by light. As Anakin approached, the Chancellor did not turn around, but his voice drifted across the room.
"Welcome, young Skywalker. I am pleased that you were able to find time in your busy schedule to attend me this morning."
Walking faster, for Anakin had noted what sounded like a note of disapproval in the Chancellor's voice, he was quickly at the older man's side, for he deeply respected Palpatine and had ever since he was a boy and met the then Naboo Senator when he came to Coruscant with Master Qui-Gon.
"Forgive me, sir. I deeply regret I was unable to meet with you before."
Palpatine turned and Anakin was relived to see a smile on that proud, noble face.
"How long ago was that?" Palpatine asked. "Six months?"
Anakin nodded.
"No need to apologize," he went on cordially. "I understand that you and Master Kenobi were sent away by the Council on a number of harrowing missions."
"That is true, your Excellency."
"I also heard that your master was injured on one of those missions. How is he, by the way?"
"Much better."
"I'm glad to hear that. Master Kenobi is one of our finest Jedi. It would be a pity to lose someone of his caliber, particularly in these stressful times."
"It would indeed be a great loss to our Order, Chancellor."
"And for you to have someone of his stature as your master. It must be such an honor."
"It is. I am very grateful he took me on as his apprentice."
One of Palpatine's white brows arched up sharply, his gaze keen. "And yet, it wasn't entirely his decision, was it?"
Anakin frowned. "I...I'm not sure what you mean, sir."
"Isn't it true that Master Kenobi's own master, Qui-Gon Jinn, before he died, bade Obi-Wan to train you?"
Anakin swallowed heavily. "Yes, that is true, sir."
"And doesn't a master usually decide for him or herself as to whom will be his or her apprentice?"
"Yes, usually."
"But yours was a special case. And in more ways than one. You were also very old to have begun your training, correct?"
"Yes, I was," Anakin replied, suddenly feeling uncomfortable as to the direction the conversation had taken.
"And yet, look at you," Palpatine suddenly beamed, his face stretched in a wide smile. "Despite the fact you started much later than the others, you have surpassed them all. I predict that one day you will be the most powerful Jedi ever."
Anakin felt his face flush, as it always did when Palpatine complimented him, which he had done on the occasions over the years Anakin had been in his presence. It still awed him that someone as important and as powerful as the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic, out of all the Jedi padawans in the Order, had chosen to monitor his training. No other padawan had been so honored. Anakin was confident of that, for he had asked around.
"I don't know about that, your Excellency," Anakin said humbly, but his heart was beating quickly at the Chancellor's words.
"You must never be modest about the truth," Palpatine said, his voice slightly sharp. "Modesty is the mask behind which the weak and the inadequate hide."
Anakin frowned slightly. That was the complete opposite of what he'd been taught by Obi-Wan. His master had always stressed that modesty and humility kept the Jedi from becoming arrogant regarding the powers the Force had granted them.
"I understand that the Jedi Temple had a visitor the other day," Palpatine said.
Anakin started, surprised by the sudden change in conversation.
"Yes, sir. Senator Lenor's son, Ben."
"But he wasn't alone, was he?"
"No, Sinja-Bau also accompanied him."
Palpatine nodded at the mention of the ex-Jedi's name, a gleam of recognition in his eyes.
"Did you have a chance to meet him?"
Anakin smiled, his heart recalling fondly the song the two had sung together. "Yes, I did. He's a great kid."
"And very strong with the Force, is that not so?"
Anakin frowned again. "Yes, he is, but----"
"But you're wondering how it is that I am privy to such information?"
Anakin nodded.
"Although I do not spend as much time keeping an eye on the Jedi Order as some of the Senators would have me do, I do try to keep apprised of some things, and it certainly wasn't a secret that Senator Lenor's son had visited the Temple."
"No, it wasn't. He spent most of the day there."
"And most of it with Master Kenobi."
Anakin felt a twinge of anxiety, as he always did when someone he believed should not have any business knowing about Obi-Wan and Ben's relationship began to inquire about the two.
"Yes, he did," Anakin replied cautiously.
Palpatine suddenly laughed. "Now, now, don't concern yourself, my young friend. You need not fear that you will unwittingly reveal Master Kenobi's secret. I know all about him, Senator Lenor and their son."
"You do?" Anakin said, but then he shouldn't have been surprised. Palpatine was, after all, the Supreme Chancellor, but why he should care about Obi- Wan and his relationship with Onara and Ben puzzled Anakin.
"Yes, I do, and, as I noted before, I understand the youngster is quite strong with the Force. Like his father."
Anakin nodded, albeit reluctantly. He still didn't feel comfortable discussing Ben and Obi-Wan, even with someone like the Chancellor.
Palpatine cocked his head, his gaze keen and sharp. "The Jedi Council, I would imagine, must be very eager to train him. He's still young enough to be accepted into the Temple."
Anakin quickly shook his head. "Onara, I mean, Senator Lenor, doesn't want Ben trained. At least not at the Temple. But she is allowing Sinja-Bau to instruct him."
"A wise decision, and quite understandable. And yet..." Palpatine paused, leaning closer to Anakin, "...it must be very tempting for such an accomplished Jedi as Master Kenobi to have someone of his own flesh and blood to be so gifted and yet be prevented from having some part in his training."
Anakin shrugged, but he felt another surge of anxiety as he recalled how he had come upon Obi-Wan doing that very thing with Ben in his quarters. Teaching him how to use the Force.
"Who knows?" Palpatine continued. "Perhaps, at some point, Master Kenobi may even try to convince Senator Lenor to let their son enter the Temple."
"She wouldn't allow it, sir. I'm certain of that. She loves Ben too much to let him go."
Palpatine moved even closer, his voice so low it was almost a whisper.
"Perhaps. But I would imagine that, under the right circumstances, your master could be quite....persuasive with her, even in such a delicate matter as this."
Anakin stared at Palpatine, startled to see what looked like a gleam of lechery in the Chancellor's eyes. But it was so fleeting Anakin told himself it must have been his imagination.
"I don't think there's anything Obi-Wan, or anyone else for that matter, could say to Senator Lenor that would persuade her to give Ben up to the Temple," Anakin said firmly. Then noting the way Palpatine was looking at him, quickly added in a softer voice. "At least, I'm pretty sure there isn't."
"Of course," Palpatine said soothingly.
He stepped away from Anakin and walked over to his desk, Anakin following at respectful distance. The Chancellor paused at his desk, staring down at its sleek black surface.
"Tell me, Anakin, were you aware of the death threats Senator Lenor has received of late?"
"Death threats? No, I wasn't."
Palpatine nodded as he looked over at Anakin, concern on his weathered features.
"They started some months back. They appear to have come about as a result of her work on the Ethics Committee. I was quite right in assigning her to it for she is both fearless and hard-working, but her efforts, I fear, have also put her in grave danger."
Anakin was shocked. He'd had no idea, and he was certain Obi-Wan wasn't aware of the threats for he would have said something.
"What is she doing about the threats, sir?"
"From what I hear, ignoring them for the most part. Except as it regards her son. Viceroy Organa had granted her some use of the Senate Guards, but the cost is quite prohibitive and there have been complaints about it in the Senate. Therefore, I had no choice but to inform Viceroy Organa to cease the assignment of Senate Guard as protectors for Senator Lenor and her family."
"Have there been any actual attempts on her life?"
"None so far," Palpatine replied. "However, the Ethics Committee will be holding hearings later this week. And one of the Senators who has been asked to appear before it is Senator Gillom.
Anakin felt a chill slither down his spine. Even he had heard of Senator Gillom. The Ugan should have been expelled from the Senate long ago for it was no secret he was as corrupt as they come, but he had managed to wriggle out of every indictment that had been levied against him. He was also known to be, though it could never be proved, quite cozy with some of the most nefarious of the criminal elements who inhabited the lower levels of Coruscant. If Senator Gillom wanted Onara dead, he would have no trouble finding someone to do the job.
"Perhaps you should inform Master Kenobi," Palpatine went on, placing his hand on Anakin's arm. "Knowing Senator Lenor, I'm sure she would not mention it, but if anything were to happen to her or their son, and your master discovered he had been kept in the dark regarding such threats, it would surely devastate him. Agreed?"
Anakin nodded. He knew how much Obi-Wan loved Onara and Ben. His master had even called upon the dark side of the Force and risked expulsion from the Jedi Order to save her life. As for Ben, Anakin had seen the joy and pride in Obi-Wan's eyes as he had looked upon his son. If anything were to happen to either of them, he wasn't sure exactly how Obi-Wan would take it, but he had a sick feeling it would destroy his master.
"Yes, I'll tell him. Right away."
"Excellent. I have much enjoyed our little visit and hope that we have cause to meet again in the near future, but I'm afraid I have quite a number of meetings scheduled for this morning."
"Oh, yes, of course, your Excellency," Anakin stammered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take up your valuable time."
"No need to apologize. We will meet again. Rest assured of that."
Anakin bowed deeply and, with a last, parting smile from the Chancellor, left his office. Therefore, as his back was to the Chancellor, he did not see Palpatine's smile suddenly turn as cold and ruthless as his eyes were.
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Lursan frowned as he looked across the table at Dalan. The two were in an elegant dining room in one of Coruscant's most expensive restaurant. Soaring kilometers high over the cityscape, it was located at the top of a thin, elegant spire and afforded a breathtaking view of the planet-wide city. Lursan had asked Dalan to join him for lunch because he had been concerned when Dalan had not returned any of his messages. Finally, he had demanded to see the young Dynast, pitching his voice in the way Count Dooku had instructed him would activate the properties of the drug Lursan had been putting in Dalan's drinks.
Dalan had shown up, but Lursan noted he was not as compliant as he had been when Lursan had been able to slip him the drug on a regular basis, and when Lursan ordered their lunch, requesting drinks for them both, Dalan shook his head and asked the droid waiter to bring him only water.
During their lunch, Lursan had also discovered that his suggestion to Dalan that he shower Onara with affection in order to quell any suspicions she may have had regarding him and Lursan had backfired. The fool was now blathering about how he didn't want any part of Lursan's plan to take the Jedi Knight out of the picture.
"She doesn't love him anymore," Dalan told him in a firm voice.
"Really, Dalan, you can't possibly believe that."
Dalan's dark blue eyes narrowed. "She wants our marriage to work. She told me so."
Lursan tilted his head, giving Dalan a small, thin smile. "And did she also tell you she no longer loves the Jedi."
Dalan glanced nervously down at the white linen table cloth, now bare of their plates, with only a glass of water before him and a glass of Corellian bourbon in front of Lursan.
"No, not in so many words," Dalan replied. Then he looked up at Lursan, defiance in his eyes. "But I know she needs me."
Lursan shrugged. "Need is not love."
"I don't care," Dalan said, his voice slightly ragged. "I want us to be happy. Maybe you're right. Maybe she still does love Kenobi. But I'm her husband, not him. I know Onara. As long as we're married, she'll not betray that trust."
Lursan frowned again. The drug he'd given Dalan was wearing off. He could see that. And now that the Dynast had also, apparently, stopped drinking, he was not as obsessed with his jealously of the Jedi Knight. Which was the last thing Lursan wanted.
"You don't look like a idiot," Lursan suddenly snarled, frustrated with Dalan's change of heart, "but you certainly talk like one."
Dalan's eyes narrowed until they were thin, blue slits and he leaned across the table, his handsome face rigid with anger.
"Watch your tongue, Lursan," he said sharply. "I fear you forget yourself. I am a Dynast and the blood that runs through my veins is royal. Whereas you..." And Dalan's lips curled with contempt. "You're nothing but a merchant, a commoner."
A hot bolt of anger surged through Lursan, and he was nearly blinded by a red sheen of shuddering rage. It was all he could do to keep from leaping across the table and choking the arrogant bastard. How dare this whimpering, lovesick cur speak to him that way! Lursan had killed any number of men for lesser offenses. But he controlled himself, letting the rage seep out of him. Once he had himself under control, he released a deep breath.
"Forgive me, Dynast Lenor," Lursan said, but his throat was tight with the effort it took him to say those repulsive words. "I meant no offense. It is just that, well, many men have said such things regarding their wives and many of them have discovered, to their great and utter disappointment, that they were wrong."
"I don't care about other men. I know Onara. She wants us to be a family. She told me so. Kenobi is the past, and I want nothing to do with whatever you have planned for him. Actually, I think it best if you were to forget what we discussed before."
Lursan kept his face as neutral as possible, but inside he was seething. He was wrong to have involved the Dynast in his revenge against Skywalker and his master. The man was a complete and utter fool. Onara would betray him. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but eventually she would. The lure of the Jedi would be too much for her, and she would weaken and succumb to her overpowering lust for him. Lursan was certain of this because, over the years, he'd had many mistresses, many of whom had also been married, swearing eternal fidelity to their husbands until he had breached their holier-than-thou defenses. All women, except his beloved wife, were the same; vain, frivolous, lustful creatures, and Onara was no different.
Under the right circumstance she would willingly give herself to Kenobi, and he, for all his sanctimonious adherence to his Jedi Code, would just as willingly take her, as he had the night of the blessing ceremony, and Lursan would not waste any time pitying Dalan when that day finally came.
"If that is what you want, Dynast," he replied, "then we shall speak no more of it."
"It is what I want. I would, of course, like to continue our business arrangements. I believe that many of your ideas for establishing Ahjane businesses here on Coruscant could prove quite profitable."
"Of course," Lursan said smoothly, but he had no intention of remaining on Coruscant or engaging in any business ventures with Dalan.
Once he was done with his revenge against Kenobi and Skywalker, he was leaving this planet of metal and steel forever. He greatly missed Ahjane; the soft green hills of his province and the perfumed gardens behind his manor. Therefore, the sooner he took care of his affairs here, the sooner he could leave. He didn't need this idiotic Dynast. Let him dwell within his fool's paradise while he could. Once Lursan was done, it would soon be a fool's hell, for Lursan had no intention of killing Kenobi as Dalan thought he had.
He wanted Kenobi to live, as Lursan now lived, with the terrible loss of those dearest to him. He wanted the Jedi to lose his son and the woman he loved, just as Lursan had. As for Skywalker, Lursan had not yet found anyone the young Jedi cared for, but he would, and when he did, that person or persons would also die. Lursan had only told Dalan he wanted to kill Kenobi because the Dynast would never have gone along with his real plan; the deaths of Onara and Ben. Lursan rose from the table. He didn't need this fool. Onara and her son would die without the Dynast's help.
Reaching over, he took Dalan's hand and shook it, thanking him for joining him for lunch and barely listening as the Dynast told him he was going to stop by Onara's office and surprise her. The two then left the restaurant together, exiting onto a platform where both hailed individual airtaxes. As Lursan's taxi took him back to his penthouse suite, he bid a silent good riddance to the hapless and soon to be grieving Dynast.
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"I'm sorry, Dynast Lenor, but Onara is not here."
Dalan, who was standing in the reception area of Onara's office in the building near the Senate Rotunda where the Senators and Representatives had their offices, frowned at the young woman, one of Onara's assistants.
"She's not? That's a pity. I was hoping to surprise her. Do you know where she went?"
"No, sir. She left shortly before mid-day. Then, about an hour ago she contacted the office and said she would not be returning."
Dalan released a disappointed breath. His meeting with Lursan had upset him deeply and, as a result, he had wanted to see Onara to convince himself, once he looked into her dark lovely eyes, that everything he had said to Lursan about believing in her fidelity to him was true.
When he had returned to their apartment the day of their terrible argument, he had not expected to be forgiven, for he knew how much his bringing up the subject of the miscarriage of their baby daughter and his belief she had brought it about always hurt her. But she forgave him, as had Ben, his eyes still shining from his visit to the Jedi Temple, and Dalan was so thankful that both had forgiven him, it had not even bothered him when Ben spent the entire evening, until Onara put him to bed, talking about the Jedi Temple and Obi-Wan
When she returned to their room, after having read Ben one of his bedtime stories, Dalan had quickly taken her into his arms and into their bed, and he had done as Lursan suggested. He had made sweet, tender love to his wife, and she had responded to him, lovingly and passionately, or so he had convinced himself. And afterwards, as they lay in each other's arms, Onara had told him how much she wanted their marriage to work. And he had believed her. Because he had needed to believe her.
"Dynast Lenor?"
"Yes," he said, startled out of his heated thoughts of Onara.
"The Senator left her satchel. There are some datadisks in it she needs to read for the upcoming hearings. Would you mind taking it with you to give to her?"
"No, not at all."
The assistant turned and, opening a door, went into Onara's inner office. She returned with the black leather satchel, which she handed to Dalan. He recognized it as the one he had given Onara as a present before she left Ahjane to take up her senatorial duties.
"Is there anything else I can help you with, Dynast Lenor."
"No, thank you."
The assistant bowed slightly and returned to her desk, where she sat in her chair and, without another glance at him, went back to looking at her datascreen. Dalan stood for a moment, his disappointment at having missed Onara like a lonesome voice that kept whispering the same forlorn words over and over. Then, turning briskly, and telling himself he would see her later, he left the office, her satchel firmly in hand.
To be continued....
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As Anakin waited before the closed doors of Chancellor Palpatine's inner office, he felt a slight chill in the air. Which was strange because, not only was he wearing his heavy Jedi robe, he could feel that the air temperature was actually quite temperate, if not a bit warm. Then he realized that the chill he felt was not a physical one, but was coming to him through the Force. However, before he could focus on the source of the psychic coldness, the doors slid open and, straightening his robe, he strode into Palpatine's office.
Although Anakin had met with Palpatine before, he had never been invited into the Chancellor's inner office. Palpatine was standing near the wide, room sized window, dressed in a dark robe, his white, leonine head surrounded by light. As Anakin approached, the Chancellor did not turn around, but his voice drifted across the room.
"Welcome, young Skywalker. I am pleased that you were able to find time in your busy schedule to attend me this morning."
Walking faster, for Anakin had noted what sounded like a note of disapproval in the Chancellor's voice, he was quickly at the older man's side, for he deeply respected Palpatine and had ever since he was a boy and met the then Naboo Senator when he came to Coruscant with Master Qui-Gon.
"Forgive me, sir. I deeply regret I was unable to meet with you before."
Palpatine turned and Anakin was relived to see a smile on that proud, noble face.
"How long ago was that?" Palpatine asked. "Six months?"
Anakin nodded.
"No need to apologize," he went on cordially. "I understand that you and Master Kenobi were sent away by the Council on a number of harrowing missions."
"That is true, your Excellency."
"I also heard that your master was injured on one of those missions. How is he, by the way?"
"Much better."
"I'm glad to hear that. Master Kenobi is one of our finest Jedi. It would be a pity to lose someone of his caliber, particularly in these stressful times."
"It would indeed be a great loss to our Order, Chancellor."
"And for you to have someone of his stature as your master. It must be such an honor."
"It is. I am very grateful he took me on as his apprentice."
One of Palpatine's white brows arched up sharply, his gaze keen. "And yet, it wasn't entirely his decision, was it?"
Anakin frowned. "I...I'm not sure what you mean, sir."
"Isn't it true that Master Kenobi's own master, Qui-Gon Jinn, before he died, bade Obi-Wan to train you?"
Anakin swallowed heavily. "Yes, that is true, sir."
"And doesn't a master usually decide for him or herself as to whom will be his or her apprentice?"
"Yes, usually."
"But yours was a special case. And in more ways than one. You were also very old to have begun your training, correct?"
"Yes, I was," Anakin replied, suddenly feeling uncomfortable as to the direction the conversation had taken.
"And yet, look at you," Palpatine suddenly beamed, his face stretched in a wide smile. "Despite the fact you started much later than the others, you have surpassed them all. I predict that one day you will be the most powerful Jedi ever."
Anakin felt his face flush, as it always did when Palpatine complimented him, which he had done on the occasions over the years Anakin had been in his presence. It still awed him that someone as important and as powerful as the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic, out of all the Jedi padawans in the Order, had chosen to monitor his training. No other padawan had been so honored. Anakin was confident of that, for he had asked around.
"I don't know about that, your Excellency," Anakin said humbly, but his heart was beating quickly at the Chancellor's words.
"You must never be modest about the truth," Palpatine said, his voice slightly sharp. "Modesty is the mask behind which the weak and the inadequate hide."
Anakin frowned slightly. That was the complete opposite of what he'd been taught by Obi-Wan. His master had always stressed that modesty and humility kept the Jedi from becoming arrogant regarding the powers the Force had granted them.
"I understand that the Jedi Temple had a visitor the other day," Palpatine said.
Anakin started, surprised by the sudden change in conversation.
"Yes, sir. Senator Lenor's son, Ben."
"But he wasn't alone, was he?"
"No, Sinja-Bau also accompanied him."
Palpatine nodded at the mention of the ex-Jedi's name, a gleam of recognition in his eyes.
"Did you have a chance to meet him?"
Anakin smiled, his heart recalling fondly the song the two had sung together. "Yes, I did. He's a great kid."
"And very strong with the Force, is that not so?"
Anakin frowned again. "Yes, he is, but----"
"But you're wondering how it is that I am privy to such information?"
Anakin nodded.
"Although I do not spend as much time keeping an eye on the Jedi Order as some of the Senators would have me do, I do try to keep apprised of some things, and it certainly wasn't a secret that Senator Lenor's son had visited the Temple."
"No, it wasn't. He spent most of the day there."
"And most of it with Master Kenobi."
Anakin felt a twinge of anxiety, as he always did when someone he believed should not have any business knowing about Obi-Wan and Ben's relationship began to inquire about the two.
"Yes, he did," Anakin replied cautiously.
Palpatine suddenly laughed. "Now, now, don't concern yourself, my young friend. You need not fear that you will unwittingly reveal Master Kenobi's secret. I know all about him, Senator Lenor and their son."
"You do?" Anakin said, but then he shouldn't have been surprised. Palpatine was, after all, the Supreme Chancellor, but why he should care about Obi- Wan and his relationship with Onara and Ben puzzled Anakin.
"Yes, I do, and, as I noted before, I understand the youngster is quite strong with the Force. Like his father."
Anakin nodded, albeit reluctantly. He still didn't feel comfortable discussing Ben and Obi-Wan, even with someone like the Chancellor.
Palpatine cocked his head, his gaze keen and sharp. "The Jedi Council, I would imagine, must be very eager to train him. He's still young enough to be accepted into the Temple."
Anakin quickly shook his head. "Onara, I mean, Senator Lenor, doesn't want Ben trained. At least not at the Temple. But she is allowing Sinja-Bau to instruct him."
"A wise decision, and quite understandable. And yet..." Palpatine paused, leaning closer to Anakin, "...it must be very tempting for such an accomplished Jedi as Master Kenobi to have someone of his own flesh and blood to be so gifted and yet be prevented from having some part in his training."
Anakin shrugged, but he felt another surge of anxiety as he recalled how he had come upon Obi-Wan doing that very thing with Ben in his quarters. Teaching him how to use the Force.
"Who knows?" Palpatine continued. "Perhaps, at some point, Master Kenobi may even try to convince Senator Lenor to let their son enter the Temple."
"She wouldn't allow it, sir. I'm certain of that. She loves Ben too much to let him go."
Palpatine moved even closer, his voice so low it was almost a whisper.
"Perhaps. But I would imagine that, under the right circumstances, your master could be quite....persuasive with her, even in such a delicate matter as this."
Anakin stared at Palpatine, startled to see what looked like a gleam of lechery in the Chancellor's eyes. But it was so fleeting Anakin told himself it must have been his imagination.
"I don't think there's anything Obi-Wan, or anyone else for that matter, could say to Senator Lenor that would persuade her to give Ben up to the Temple," Anakin said firmly. Then noting the way Palpatine was looking at him, quickly added in a softer voice. "At least, I'm pretty sure there isn't."
"Of course," Palpatine said soothingly.
He stepped away from Anakin and walked over to his desk, Anakin following at respectful distance. The Chancellor paused at his desk, staring down at its sleek black surface.
"Tell me, Anakin, were you aware of the death threats Senator Lenor has received of late?"
"Death threats? No, I wasn't."
Palpatine nodded as he looked over at Anakin, concern on his weathered features.
"They started some months back. They appear to have come about as a result of her work on the Ethics Committee. I was quite right in assigning her to it for she is both fearless and hard-working, but her efforts, I fear, have also put her in grave danger."
Anakin was shocked. He'd had no idea, and he was certain Obi-Wan wasn't aware of the threats for he would have said something.
"What is she doing about the threats, sir?"
"From what I hear, ignoring them for the most part. Except as it regards her son. Viceroy Organa had granted her some use of the Senate Guards, but the cost is quite prohibitive and there have been complaints about it in the Senate. Therefore, I had no choice but to inform Viceroy Organa to cease the assignment of Senate Guard as protectors for Senator Lenor and her family."
"Have there been any actual attempts on her life?"
"None so far," Palpatine replied. "However, the Ethics Committee will be holding hearings later this week. And one of the Senators who has been asked to appear before it is Senator Gillom.
Anakin felt a chill slither down his spine. Even he had heard of Senator Gillom. The Ugan should have been expelled from the Senate long ago for it was no secret he was as corrupt as they come, but he had managed to wriggle out of every indictment that had been levied against him. He was also known to be, though it could never be proved, quite cozy with some of the most nefarious of the criminal elements who inhabited the lower levels of Coruscant. If Senator Gillom wanted Onara dead, he would have no trouble finding someone to do the job.
"Perhaps you should inform Master Kenobi," Palpatine went on, placing his hand on Anakin's arm. "Knowing Senator Lenor, I'm sure she would not mention it, but if anything were to happen to her or their son, and your master discovered he had been kept in the dark regarding such threats, it would surely devastate him. Agreed?"
Anakin nodded. He knew how much Obi-Wan loved Onara and Ben. His master had even called upon the dark side of the Force and risked expulsion from the Jedi Order to save her life. As for Ben, Anakin had seen the joy and pride in Obi-Wan's eyes as he had looked upon his son. If anything were to happen to either of them, he wasn't sure exactly how Obi-Wan would take it, but he had a sick feeling it would destroy his master.
"Yes, I'll tell him. Right away."
"Excellent. I have much enjoyed our little visit and hope that we have cause to meet again in the near future, but I'm afraid I have quite a number of meetings scheduled for this morning."
"Oh, yes, of course, your Excellency," Anakin stammered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take up your valuable time."
"No need to apologize. We will meet again. Rest assured of that."
Anakin bowed deeply and, with a last, parting smile from the Chancellor, left his office. Therefore, as his back was to the Chancellor, he did not see Palpatine's smile suddenly turn as cold and ruthless as his eyes were.
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Lursan frowned as he looked across the table at Dalan. The two were in an elegant dining room in one of Coruscant's most expensive restaurant. Soaring kilometers high over the cityscape, it was located at the top of a thin, elegant spire and afforded a breathtaking view of the planet-wide city. Lursan had asked Dalan to join him for lunch because he had been concerned when Dalan had not returned any of his messages. Finally, he had demanded to see the young Dynast, pitching his voice in the way Count Dooku had instructed him would activate the properties of the drug Lursan had been putting in Dalan's drinks.
Dalan had shown up, but Lursan noted he was not as compliant as he had been when Lursan had been able to slip him the drug on a regular basis, and when Lursan ordered their lunch, requesting drinks for them both, Dalan shook his head and asked the droid waiter to bring him only water.
During their lunch, Lursan had also discovered that his suggestion to Dalan that he shower Onara with affection in order to quell any suspicions she may have had regarding him and Lursan had backfired. The fool was now blathering about how he didn't want any part of Lursan's plan to take the Jedi Knight out of the picture.
"She doesn't love him anymore," Dalan told him in a firm voice.
"Really, Dalan, you can't possibly believe that."
Dalan's dark blue eyes narrowed. "She wants our marriage to work. She told me so."
Lursan tilted his head, giving Dalan a small, thin smile. "And did she also tell you she no longer loves the Jedi."
Dalan glanced nervously down at the white linen table cloth, now bare of their plates, with only a glass of water before him and a glass of Corellian bourbon in front of Lursan.
"No, not in so many words," Dalan replied. Then he looked up at Lursan, defiance in his eyes. "But I know she needs me."
Lursan shrugged. "Need is not love."
"I don't care," Dalan said, his voice slightly ragged. "I want us to be happy. Maybe you're right. Maybe she still does love Kenobi. But I'm her husband, not him. I know Onara. As long as we're married, she'll not betray that trust."
Lursan frowned again. The drug he'd given Dalan was wearing off. He could see that. And now that the Dynast had also, apparently, stopped drinking, he was not as obsessed with his jealously of the Jedi Knight. Which was the last thing Lursan wanted.
"You don't look like a idiot," Lursan suddenly snarled, frustrated with Dalan's change of heart, "but you certainly talk like one."
Dalan's eyes narrowed until they were thin, blue slits and he leaned across the table, his handsome face rigid with anger.
"Watch your tongue, Lursan," he said sharply. "I fear you forget yourself. I am a Dynast and the blood that runs through my veins is royal. Whereas you..." And Dalan's lips curled with contempt. "You're nothing but a merchant, a commoner."
A hot bolt of anger surged through Lursan, and he was nearly blinded by a red sheen of shuddering rage. It was all he could do to keep from leaping across the table and choking the arrogant bastard. How dare this whimpering, lovesick cur speak to him that way! Lursan had killed any number of men for lesser offenses. But he controlled himself, letting the rage seep out of him. Once he had himself under control, he released a deep breath.
"Forgive me, Dynast Lenor," Lursan said, but his throat was tight with the effort it took him to say those repulsive words. "I meant no offense. It is just that, well, many men have said such things regarding their wives and many of them have discovered, to their great and utter disappointment, that they were wrong."
"I don't care about other men. I know Onara. She wants us to be a family. She told me so. Kenobi is the past, and I want nothing to do with whatever you have planned for him. Actually, I think it best if you were to forget what we discussed before."
Lursan kept his face as neutral as possible, but inside he was seething. He was wrong to have involved the Dynast in his revenge against Skywalker and his master. The man was a complete and utter fool. Onara would betray him. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but eventually she would. The lure of the Jedi would be too much for her, and she would weaken and succumb to her overpowering lust for him. Lursan was certain of this because, over the years, he'd had many mistresses, many of whom had also been married, swearing eternal fidelity to their husbands until he had breached their holier-than-thou defenses. All women, except his beloved wife, were the same; vain, frivolous, lustful creatures, and Onara was no different.
Under the right circumstance she would willingly give herself to Kenobi, and he, for all his sanctimonious adherence to his Jedi Code, would just as willingly take her, as he had the night of the blessing ceremony, and Lursan would not waste any time pitying Dalan when that day finally came.
"If that is what you want, Dynast," he replied, "then we shall speak no more of it."
"It is what I want. I would, of course, like to continue our business arrangements. I believe that many of your ideas for establishing Ahjane businesses here on Coruscant could prove quite profitable."
"Of course," Lursan said smoothly, but he had no intention of remaining on Coruscant or engaging in any business ventures with Dalan.
Once he was done with his revenge against Kenobi and Skywalker, he was leaving this planet of metal and steel forever. He greatly missed Ahjane; the soft green hills of his province and the perfumed gardens behind his manor. Therefore, the sooner he took care of his affairs here, the sooner he could leave. He didn't need this idiotic Dynast. Let him dwell within his fool's paradise while he could. Once Lursan was done, it would soon be a fool's hell, for Lursan had no intention of killing Kenobi as Dalan thought he had.
He wanted Kenobi to live, as Lursan now lived, with the terrible loss of those dearest to him. He wanted the Jedi to lose his son and the woman he loved, just as Lursan had. As for Skywalker, Lursan had not yet found anyone the young Jedi cared for, but he would, and when he did, that person or persons would also die. Lursan had only told Dalan he wanted to kill Kenobi because the Dynast would never have gone along with his real plan; the deaths of Onara and Ben. Lursan rose from the table. He didn't need this fool. Onara and her son would die without the Dynast's help.
Reaching over, he took Dalan's hand and shook it, thanking him for joining him for lunch and barely listening as the Dynast told him he was going to stop by Onara's office and surprise her. The two then left the restaurant together, exiting onto a platform where both hailed individual airtaxes. As Lursan's taxi took him back to his penthouse suite, he bid a silent good riddance to the hapless and soon to be grieving Dynast.
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"I'm sorry, Dynast Lenor, but Onara is not here."
Dalan, who was standing in the reception area of Onara's office in the building near the Senate Rotunda where the Senators and Representatives had their offices, frowned at the young woman, one of Onara's assistants.
"She's not? That's a pity. I was hoping to surprise her. Do you know where she went?"
"No, sir. She left shortly before mid-day. Then, about an hour ago she contacted the office and said she would not be returning."
Dalan released a disappointed breath. His meeting with Lursan had upset him deeply and, as a result, he had wanted to see Onara to convince himself, once he looked into her dark lovely eyes, that everything he had said to Lursan about believing in her fidelity to him was true.
When he had returned to their apartment the day of their terrible argument, he had not expected to be forgiven, for he knew how much his bringing up the subject of the miscarriage of their baby daughter and his belief she had brought it about always hurt her. But she forgave him, as had Ben, his eyes still shining from his visit to the Jedi Temple, and Dalan was so thankful that both had forgiven him, it had not even bothered him when Ben spent the entire evening, until Onara put him to bed, talking about the Jedi Temple and Obi-Wan
When she returned to their room, after having read Ben one of his bedtime stories, Dalan had quickly taken her into his arms and into their bed, and he had done as Lursan suggested. He had made sweet, tender love to his wife, and she had responded to him, lovingly and passionately, or so he had convinced himself. And afterwards, as they lay in each other's arms, Onara had told him how much she wanted their marriage to work. And he had believed her. Because he had needed to believe her.
"Dynast Lenor?"
"Yes," he said, startled out of his heated thoughts of Onara.
"The Senator left her satchel. There are some datadisks in it she needs to read for the upcoming hearings. Would you mind taking it with you to give to her?"
"No, not at all."
The assistant turned and, opening a door, went into Onara's inner office. She returned with the black leather satchel, which she handed to Dalan. He recognized it as the one he had given Onara as a present before she left Ahjane to take up her senatorial duties.
"Is there anything else I can help you with, Dynast Lenor."
"No, thank you."
The assistant bowed slightly and returned to her desk, where she sat in her chair and, without another glance at him, went back to looking at her datascreen. Dalan stood for a moment, his disappointment at having missed Onara like a lonesome voice that kept whispering the same forlorn words over and over. Then, turning briskly, and telling himself he would see her later, he left the office, her satchel firmly in hand.
To be continued....