Thanks everyone for your wonderful comments! I'll try to post more often.
Here's a long one for you to enjoy. At least I hope you do. :)
Stars in the Darkness - Part Twenty-Seven
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Onara rushed over to Ben. She knelt down and gently took him by the arms, her heart breaking at the look of both fear and pain in his face.
"Ben, darling, come to Mama."
Ben released Sinja-Bau's legs and turned to his mother, moving into her arms. Onara held him close, his cheek soft and wet on hers from his tears, his small body, which she noted with a sharp pain was trembling, pressed against hers.
"It's all right, darling," she whispered. "It's all right."
But Onara knew she was lying. Nothing was all right and, she feared, would not be all right for a long time. She stood, her arms around Ben and looked over at Dalan.
He was slumped against the wall, but was conscious. He stared back at her with a dazed expression. Ben lifted his face from Onara's neck and looked over at him.
"Papa," he said softly.
Onara swallowed in a tight throat. She turned and looked over at Sinja-Bau. The older woman still stood in the doorway of the bedroom, but she had lowered her hand. She gave Onara a stricken look, her blue-green eyes filled with what looked like shame.
"I'm sorry---" she began, but stopped as Dalan slowly rose to his feet, groaning as he did so.
Onara turned back to him. He reached around and gingerly touched the back of his head. She gasped when she saw the blood on his fingers, her arms tightening around Ben. Dalan looked at his bloodied hand, then at Sinja- Bau.
"You tried to kill me," he said.
"No, no," Sinja-Bau said quickly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to---"
"Get out," Dalan slurred. "Get out before I call the authorities."
"She's not going anywhere," Onara said firmly. "If anyone is leaving, it's you."
"What?" Dalan whirled on Onara. "You're asking me to leave?"
"I'm not asking, Dalan. I'm demanding that you do so. You can come back when you've sobered up. But I won't have you here while you're in this condition."
Dalan glared at her, then made as if he was going to advance on her, but suddenly stopped. Onara saw he was staring at Ben where she held him in her arms. Dalan slowly reached out a hand towards him, but it was the bloodied one. Ben whimpered, his arms tightening around Onara's neck. She moved away from her husband, her only thought to keep him from Ben.
At her movement Dalan quickly lowered his hand, his face stricken. Onara felt a surge of pity for him, but only for a moment. He had laid hands on her, tried to hurt her, rape her, something he had never done before. Though she doubted he would harm Ben, she wasn't going to take that chance.
Dalan stared at her and Ben, his dark blue eyes pleading. Then he released a deep, shuddering breath. Glancing over at Sinja-Bau, a frown creased his forehead and his gaze sharpened.
"Dalan, let me look at your injury--" Sinja-Bau said, stepping towards him.
"Don't touch me," he snarled. "This is all your doing. You've always been against me. You Jedi are all alike. You all stick together. You're probably the one who gave Onara the idea about ending our marriage."
Sinja-Bau looked over at Onara, her expression one of puzzlement. But Onara didn't want to discuss any of what had happened between her and Dalan in front of Ben. Her only objective was to get Dalan out of the apartment.
"Please, Dalan, this isn't the time to discuss this. Sober up and we can talk about this tomorrow. I want to put Ben to bed. He's seen and heard enough, wouldn't you agree?"
Dalan drew his frenzied gaze away from Sinja-Bau and back to Onara. Again, she saw that hurt look on his face as he looked at Ben.
"I'm sorry, Ben," he said gently. "Truly, I am. I didn't want you...I didn't mean for you to..." Dalan stopped and looked down at the carpet.
"I know, Papa. I know you're sorry. Does your head hurt?"
Dalan reached back and touched his head, wincing as he did so. "Not much, but I'll take care of it. You go with Mama, okay? I'll see you tomorrow."
"All right, Papa."
Dalan moved past Sinja-Bau and Onara. As he did so, she saw the blood on the back of his head.
"Dalan, please, let us take care of your injury before you go."
Dalan turned, his expression closed and dark. "I'm fine, Onara. I'll have it looked at when I get to Lursan's."
She frowned at the mention of the Ahjane businessman. "Is that where you're going?"
Dalan shrugged. "Where else can I go? And at least I know I'll be welcome there."
"Dalan, please, don't be this way---"
But he had already turned and, the lift door sliding open and shut behind him, left the apartment.
Onara released a deep breath. She walked over to Sinja-Bau. The ex-Jedi was staring at the wall where she had thrown Dalan. There were some spots of blood on it. She turned to Onara, her expression troubled.
"Forgive me, Onara. I didn't mean to hurt him. I'd just gotten back with Ben and I heard the two of you shouting. I took Ben to his room, told him to wait there. When I saw Dalan coming at you, I just reacted."
Onara reached over and placed a hand on Sinja-Bau's arm. "It's all right, Sinja-Bau. Don't trouble yourself. You did the right thing."
"No, you don't understand," she said in a low voice. "It's not all right. And it wasn't the right thing."
Then she noted Ben staring at her. She reached over and gently stroked his cheek.
"Do you forgive me, little one, for hurting your Papa?"
Ben nodded. "I know you were just trying to help Mama. But I was so scared, Bau-Bau. I thought you were going to kill Papa. You were so angry. I could feel it through the Force. It made me feel cold and dark."
Sinja-Bau nodded, but Onara saw she was still quite upset. She wasn't sure what was going on with Sinja-Bau, why she was so distressed by what had happened, but she sensed it was something very important to her.
"Are you all right, Sinja-Bau?"
"Yes, yes, I'm fine," but Onara plainly heard in her voice that the older woman was far from fine. "Perhaps you should get Ben something to eat, Onara." She touched Ben's cheek again. "Aren't you hungry, dear? It's been hours since we had lunch."
Ben shook his head, his face sad. "I'm not hungry, Bau-Bau."
Onara stroked his soft black hair, nuzzling his cheek, dismayed at the look of sorrow on his face. "Well, what about a glass of milk and some Silrian berry-cookies? Would you be hungry for that?"
Ben's eyes, which still glistened with tears, brightened at the mention of his favorite treat. "But, Mama, you only let me have berry-cookies after I finish my dinner."
"I know, darling, but we'll make an exception for tonight, all right?"
Ben eagerly nodded. Onara was just about to take him to his bedroom, but she stopped and looked back at Sinja-Bau. The ex-Jedi stood, her shoulders slumped, staring down at the floor.
"Sinja-Bau, are you sure you're all right?"
Sinja-Bau's head jerked up, her features clouded, but she quickly smoothed over her face and gave Onara a smile, if a tad wan.
"Yes, I'm fine. Really. I'm going to my room to meditate for a bit. I'll be there if you need to talk."
Then she glanced over at Ben, indicating she understood Onara's reluctance to discuss what had happened between her and Dalan in front of him.
"Thank you, Sinja-Bau. I hope your meditation proves restful."
Onara turned and, with Ben in her arms, took him to his bedroom. She pressed open the door, the lights coming on as she entered. His room, like always, was a kaleidoscope of scattered toys, clothes and holo-books. She gently put him on his bed, noting that Obi-Wan, his pet voorpak, was sleeping soundly in a padded box on the nightstand.
"Now, wait here and I'll be right back with your cookies and milk."
"All right, Mama."
Onara went into the kitchen and got the cookies and a glass of milk, placing them on a tray which she carried into Ben's room. He had taken off his shoes and was playing with one of his Force toys. As Onara sat on the side of the bed, placing the tray on the nightstand, Ben levitated the top of the toy, which looked to her like some kind of puzzle box.
She waited, awed as always by Ben's command of the Force. She would have never thought in a million years she would ever have a Force sensitive child. But then, she told herself, she would never have imagined she would spend the night of a blessing ceremony with a Jedi Knight either.
Ben finished with his toy, putting it on the floor. Onara slid in next to him on the bed. He nestled beneath her arm, his head resting against her side. She handed him one of the cookies and the glass of milk. And she waited. Waited to see if he would reveal to her how much he had heard of her and Dalan's argument.
But Ben remained silent. He hummed softly to himself as he ate his cookies and drank his milk, occasionally peering around her to look over at Obi- Wan, who remained serenely oblivious to them both.
Onara lowered her chin onto the softness of his thick black hair, so much like her own, humming along with him. If not for the echoes of the words she and Dalan had hurled at each other still rumbling in her ears, she would have thought this night was no different than any other night she had put Ben to bed.
But it was different. And she couldn't pretend it wasn't.
"Mama?"
Onara's heart thumped in her chest.
"Yes, darling?"
Ben gave her his empty glass of milk. She put it on the tray. Then, noting there were some cookie crumbs around his mouth, she gently brushed them away.
"Is Papa going to be all right?"
"Yes, he'll be fine."
"Will he come back?"
"Yes, he'll come back tomorrow. He just needs to...to be away from us for a bit."
Ben reached down and ran his fingers along the velvet of her skirt.
"Mama?"
"Yes, Ben?"
"If I promise to be good, will you and Papa not fight anymore?"
Onara's eyes widened and, reaching down, she cupped Ben's chin and lifted his face towards her.
"What?"
"I heard you tell Papa I wasn't his son. I thought maybe it was because I've been bad. That you didn't want Papa to have someone like me for his son."
"Oh, Ben, darling, no," Onara cried, almost overwhelmed by his words. "That's not it at all. You're a wonderful boy, and any man would be proud to have you for his son."
"Really, Mama?" Ben asked as he looked up at her with Obi-Wan's eyes.
"Yes, yes," she cried, holding him close, struggling to keep the tears from spilling down her cheeks.
"Then will you and Papa not yell at each other anymore?"
Onara held Ben close, her throat tight with pain. She had not thought this was going to be easy, ending her marriage, but the effect she knew it was going to have on Ben was almost more than she could bear. He loved Dalan so much that the dissolution of their marriage would most certainly cause him great pain, but would it be better for her to remain married and have him witness scenes like that which had occurred this evening? She didn't think so.
She kissed the top of Ben's head, then drew back from him. Looking down, she stroked his soft cheeks, her heart swelling with love as she gazed down at her son.
"Ben, I wish I could promise you that we won't yell at each other anymore, but---"
"It's complicated." Ben nodded. "That's what Master Kenobi said. That sometimes things that happened with adults were complicated."
Onara nodded, a small smile on her face. "Yes, dear, that's right. It's complicated."
Ben scrunched up his face. "But, Mama, what does it mean? Complicated?"
"Well, it means something that's difficult to understand at first."
"Like the lessons Bau-Bau gives me?"
"Yes, like that."
"But, if I study really hard and I do what Bau-Bau tells me, then I understand."
Onara smiled, kissing his check. "Yes, you do, darling. You always do."
"So, I'll understand this too, right?"
Onara stared at Ben for a moment. How could a child who was not quite four understand something that she at twenty-two didn't herself understand; the ways of the human heart. The love she felt for Obi-Wan could never match what Dalan wanted from her. She knew that. And the love she felt for her son surpassed anything she could ever have imagined or dreamed. She had not thought it possible that she could love anyone as much as she loved Ben. But she did.
He was what mattered, she told herself. His happiness and his well-being. Not hers. Not Dalan's. It would hurt him, there was no question, her and Dalan's dissolution, but in the long run it would be for the best. And, hopefully, Dalan would come around when he was thinking more clearly. Then, like two rational and reasonable adults they could come to an agreement regarding Ben's future that would, she hoped, lessen the pain of their separation for him.
"I hope someday you will understand, Ben. And I'm sure you will. You're a very smart boy. Very bright. But, right now, I want you to do Mommy a big favor."
"What, Mama?"
"I want you to put on your night clothes, get back into bed and go to sleep. It's been a very long day and you need to rest."
"Will you tell me a story if I do?"
Onara touched him lightly on the tip of his nose with her finger. "Of course I will, dear."
"A story about Obi-Wan? You haven't told me one about him in a long time. I know you just make them up, Mama, but I like them."
Onara laughed, pleased to see Ben was none the worse for having witnessed that dreadful scene earlier.
"Yes, I'll tell you one about Obi-Wan."
Ben leapt out of the bed and ran about the room, looking for his night clothes. Onara watched him, a smile on her lips. Once he found them, he ran into the fresher. She heard him running water as he cleaned his teeth and washed up. She was tempted to go and help him, but the last time she'd done that he'd complained she was treating him like a little kid.
He finally came out of the fresher, his night clothes on, his feet bare, his hair slightly damp. He grinned at her as he climbed into the bed and cuddled close to her. Onara pulled the blanket over them both, having kicked off her slippers. She could smell the sweet-scent of teeth cleaner and soap about him as he slipped his arms about her waist.
"Ready?" she asked.
Ben nodded, smiling, as he looked up at her.
"All right," Onara said as she settled next to him. "Let's see. A story about Obi-Wan."
"Mama?
"Yes, darling?"
"Instead of a story about Obi-Wan, I want you to tell me the story you told him. About the royal twins."
"You really want to hear that one?"
Ben nodded. Onara drew him close, resting her chin gently on his head.
"Once upon a time," she began in a low, soft voice, "on a world far, far away, a beautiful young queen gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl. But, what should have been a time of great happiness in the kingdom was, unfortunately, a time of great sorrow for there was a darkness upon the land the queen ruled with her husband, the young king."
Onara told Ben the rest of the story, taking it far beyond what she had told Obi-Wan the night of the blessing ceremony when they had snuck away and went walking in the forest outside her father's manor. But, as with Obi- Wan, she did not finish the story, for Ben was soon asleep and she, unwilling to leave him, also fell asleep, her arms wrapped gently around him.
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It was all Lursan could do not to sneer as he listened to Dalan. The Dynast had arrived at his penthouse an hour ago, just a few minutes after Lursan himself had returned from his meeting with Senator Gillom.
Both drunk and heavily drugged, for the fool had consumed the entire bottle of the drug-laced brandy Lursan had sent to him, Dalan had spilled out his pitiful, pathetic tale of what had happened between him and Onara. It would have been an amusing story, if not for the implications to Lursan and his plans, for Dalan had consumed so much of the drug in the brandy, it had made him both paranoid and delusional.
It was all Lursan could do not to laugh as he had tended to Dalan's head injury, for the Dynast had spouted a load of drug-induced nonsense about Onara and the Jedi being involved in a plot to kill him and take his wealth. It was purely laughable, for even Lursan knew the Jedi had no interest in such things. Kenobi wanted Onara, of that Lursan was certain of, but he knew the Jedi cared nothing about money.
But Lursan had not laughed. After putting away the med-kit, he had listened, growing more and more irritated with each passing moment. Now the idiot was blubbering, his face in his hands, about the look on the face of that brat, and how he not wanted Ben to see him that way. Lursan could care less about Ben's feelings, but he was very concerned that Dalan's actions tonight could prove detrimental to his plans for revenge against Skywalker and his master.
"Did Onara say anything about what she plans to do regarding the dissolution?"
Dalan raised his head from his hands, his dark blue eyes bloodshot and swollen.
"What she plans to do?"
"Yes, yes," Lursan snapped, trying hard, but not succeeding at keeping the impatience and irritation with Dalan out of his voice. "Did she say what she plans to do tomorrow? Will she go to the Ahjane embassy? Contact the Assembly?"
Dalan shrugged his wide shoulders, looking confused. "She didn't say anything about going go the embassy or contacting the Assembly. Just that she wanted to dissolve our marriage. Then, when Ben came into the room, her only concern was to get him away from me," he finished, his voice throbbing with anger and pain.
Lursan crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't like this, not one bit. He had resolved himself to not getting any assistance from Dalan to carry out his plans after he and Onara had made up. Now the fool had set into motion events Lursan could not effectively predict.
He chewed on his lower lip. His instincts, finely honed as a result of having been the leader of the Red Tide, told him that if he wanted to exact his revenge, he needed to do so soon. And the sooner he did, the sooner he could leave this planet for good. As long as Onara was with Dalan the better his chances were of getting to her and her son.
However, once she came under the protection of Kenobi, it would be close to impossible for Lursan to get to either of them. And, despite what Dalan had told him, that Onara had swore she was not leaving him for the Jedi, Lursan could not believe that once she was free, Kenobi would not want to have her and their son with him. Therefore, Lursan decided, he needed to act quickly.
"Dynast," he said, smoothing his voice as if he were running his hand over silk, "I can see it has been a most trying day for you. You can remain here if you like. Take the guest room. Get some sleep and tomorrow, I promise you, you will finally be freed from all this torment."
"But, you don't understand. Onara meant what she said. I could see it in her eyes. And after what I did to her..." Dalan stopped, lifting his hands before him, as if reliving the violence he had enacted upon her.
Lursan walked over and put a comforting hand on Dalan's shoulder.
"Words, my dear Dynast. Mere words. And emotions were running high between you both. Quite understandable, considering the terrible state you were in. No, do not dwell on what was said. Do as I say. Get some rest. Tomorrow will be a new day. A chance for you to start again."
Dalan stood shakily. He nodded, his face twisted with a pitiable, desperate hope.
"Yes, tomorrow is another day. Onara was right. I was drunk, I wasn't myself. The things I said, did to her...that wasn't me." Dalan stopped, looking down at the floor. "I don't understand what could have happened, how I could have..." His voice trailed away and he turned away from Lursan and headed towards the guest room.
"Yes, I need to sleep," he went on in a low voice as he stumbled out of the common area. "Then I'll see Onara tomorrow. And we'll talk. And everything will be fine. I'll promise never to drink again. I'll do whatever she wants, whatever she asks. Just so she doesn't leave me."
Dalan entered the guest room, the door sliding shut behind him. Lursan stared at the closed door for a long moment. He almost felt pity for the Dynast. Almost.
He turned and went to his own bedroom. He would not be able to sleep tonight. He never could before a killing. Instead, he laid out on his bed the clothes he would wear tomorrow. An unassuming dark blue suit, casual and elegant, as befitted an Ahjane businessman.
But hidden inside the jacket were a small, but powerful hand-blaster and a dagger. The dagger had belonged to his son. It was an appropriate weapon to use he thought as he stroked the jeweled handle.
After he finished with his clothing, Lursan sat on the floor, his legs crossed, his elbows resting gently on his knees. He would mediate for the rest of the night and prepare himself. Although he had killed many over the years, first as a member of the Red Tide, then as its leader, killed men, women and children, he had never looked upon the taking of any life casually.
There was always a price to be paid for the spilling of blood, and Lursan knew that one day he would be called upon to pay that price. Then he smiled as he slowly closed his eyes. But not today nor tomorrow would payment be demanded from him by the gods of death and vengeance. And certainly not before he had his own revenge on the Jedi Master and his cursed apprentice.
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Bright morning light spilled through the window of Obi-Wan's quarters in the Jedi Temple. He was one of the lucky ones. His quarters had a window. Many of the others did not, located as they were deep within the Temple.
Bare-chested, for he had just come out of the shower, Obi-Wan stood and watched the sunlight as it spilled across the shimmering towers of the Coruscant skyline. He sipped his morning cup of kafe, something he often missed on his missions out in the field.
And something, he now realized, he would miss again, for he was going to speak to Master Yoda about returning to active duty. His injuries had healed and he was eager to be out and about. This sitting around, restful as it might have been, led to an inordinate amount of brooding, and brooding was something Obi-Wan did not like nor felt it was productive to indulge in.
He turned, placing his now empty cup on the table near the window. He went into his bedroom and put on his tunic. The one he had worn yesterday, he took off a chair next to his bed. He was about to place it in the bin for the wash-cycler, but as he did, he noted a scent about it.
Holding it to his face, Obi-Wan slowly closed his eyes. It was Onara's perfume, from when he had embraced her yesterday. His heart started to beat rapidly as he recalled the feel of her in his arms, the warmth of her lush lips under his as he had kissed her, the softness of her breasts pressed against his chest.
With a strangled groan, Obi-Wan lowered the tunic, but he could still smell her, the scent of the honeyroses in her perfume like a sweet fog about him, not dulling but sharpening his senses and filling them all--taste, touch, sight, hearing, scent--with nothing but her.
His throat tight, Obi-wan threw the tunic into the bin, then hurriedly put on his belt, clipped his lightsaber onto it and drew on his robe. Yes, he thought, as he strode out of his bedroom. The sooner he was back on a mission, the better. Onara was not his. She would never be his. And, although, he could never forget her, he knew he had to let her go.
Just as he was about to leave his quarters, he noted the sunlight shimmering on the glass pane of Ben's picture that he'd had framed. He stopped and walked over to it, smiling at the childlike drawing of him and Ben and the endearing words his son had wrote, unaware that the man he thought of as his good friend was actually his father.
Obi-Wan reached over and touched the face of the drawing Ben had done of himself, his finger pressing against the glass, but as he did so he felt a coldness rippling through his hand.
Obi-Wan jerked his hand away, suddenly overcome by a feeling of _wrongness_, as if the Force were trying to warn him of something. He focused his awareness, trying to discover the source of the premonition, but his thoughts were interrupted by the chiming of his front door.
With a frustrated sigh, he turned away from Ben's drawing and went to answer the door. Anakin stood outside it, his tall, lanky frame looming in the doorway.
"Morning, Master."
Obi-Wan waved Anakin in. "Morning, Anakin. You're up early."
Anakin grinned as he moved past Obi-Wan. "So are you, Master."
He walked over and sat on the small couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he crossed his dark boots at the ankle. Obi-Wan noted that Anakin had an all too-knowing smirk on his face as he grinned back at his master.
"What?" Obi-Wan blurted out.
"Did you and Onara have a nice _chat_ yesterday?"
Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest. "Anakin, really. It doesn't take a Jedi Master to see that you're intimating something most inappropriate."
Anakin's blue eyes widened and he pointed to himself. "Me? Intimate something inappropriate? Never. Not in a thousand years."
"You seem to have forgotten that Onara is a married woman."
Anakin shook his head firmly. "I haven't forgotten that, Master." Then he grinned slyly. "I just hope you didn't forget it."
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. He could see Anakin was in one of his mischief- making moods, but he most certainly was not in the mood to deal with it. Especially since what Anakin was hinting about regarding the two of them had almost happened.
When he had held Onara in his arms, then channeled the Force through her, touching her in a way he had never touched her before, he had realized he could very easily give up everything he had dedicated his life to in order to spend the rest of it holding her the way he had held her in that holographic, moon-drenched garden of Suheb Province.
And the ease with which he had felt such a strong and steadfast desire to be with her had alarmed and disturbed him. Then he frowned, oblivious for a moment to Anakin's presence. He was a Jedi Knight and master to a Jedi Padawan. He had known no other way of life and, until he had met Onara four years ago, had not wanted any other kind of life.
But all that had changed with the blessing ceremony he had so reluctantly agreed to participate in on that fateful day back on Ahjane. As a result, he had fallen in love with a woman who was not only beautiful, not only spirited and gentle and loving, but was the only woman he would ever love, would always love and could never have.
"Hey, Master, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."
Obi-Wan shook himself and looked over at his padawan. Anakin's clear blue eyes were brimming with apology as he gazed back at him.
"What?" Obi-Wan said.
Anakin stood and walked over to him. "You were frowning so fiercely, Master, I was afraid I'd made you mad."
"No, I'm not mad, Anakin. It's just that....Onara...I don't want to...I can't..."
"I understand, Master. I'm sorry."
Obi-Wan could hear in Anakin's voice that he wasn't just apologizing for his gaffe in having intimated that Onara and he had done more than talk yesterday. He was also expressing his sympathy regarding Obi-Wan's circumstances, for Anakin knew very well how much Onara and Ben meant to him, and how difficult it was for him to have to remain apart from them.
Grateful for his padawan's apology and for his understanding regarding his feelings for Onara and Ben, but determined to continue on the course he had set for himself, Obi-Wan adjusted his belt and straightened his robe.
"I was just on my way to see Master Yoda. I think it's time you and I get back into the field, don't you?"
"Uh, well, yes, if you say so, Master," Anakin replied, but he sounded less than enthusiastic about the prospect.
Obi-Wan wondered if it had something to do with Senator Amidala. He reached over and put a reassuring hand on Anakin's arm.
"I'll try to see if I can get us missions that don't take us too far from Coruscant."
Anakin shrugged, but Obi-Wan could see he was still troubled.
"What is it, Anakin? What's wrong?" he asked.
"Master, when I went to see the Chancellor the other day he told me that Onara had been receiving death threats."
Fear pulsed through Obi-Wan. "Death threats? But, she never mentioned them to me."
Anakin nodded. "The Chancellor said she probably wouldn't. She's been receiving them for some time, but now that the Ethics Committee is turning its attention on Senator Gillom, the Chancellor fears that this time something could happen to her. Gillom is the very scrapings of the bottom of the barrel, Master. There's no question he's as crooked and rotten as they come, but no one's ever been able to get anything on him."
"I'm well aware of Senator Gillom's activities," Obi-Wan said grimly, "and his uncanny ability to avoid prosecution for them."
Then he recalled that feeling of wrongness he had felt earlier through the Force. He quickly turned, his robe swirling about him and went over to the desk in the corner of the room, Anakin trailing behind him. He activated the desk's comm-channel, punching in the code for Onara's apartment.
Moments passed but no one answered. Obi-Wan felt a chill slithering down his spine. It was very early, so he couldn't imagine that everyone was already gone for the day. He was just about to run out and rush over to the apartment, when Keria's face coalesced on the screen.
"Yes?" she said sleepily.
Her blond hair was mussed and her blue eyes were half-closed, the strap of her sleep gown hanging over one bare shoulder. Then they widened when she saw who it was.
"Oh, Master, Kenobi. Master Anakin," she cried as she quickly rubbed her eyes, pulled up her strap and fussed with her hair.
"Keria, is Onara there? I'd like to speak with her."
"No, I'm sorry, Master Kenobi. She's not."
"She's not?"
Keria shook her head. "She and Ben left. You see, I got home late last night. I was on a date." She blushed and slid her eyes over at Anakin. "Then, this morning, when I got up to use...to use the fresher," and she blushed harder, "she and Ben were already up eating breakfast. That's when she told me they were going out."
"Going out where?" Obi-Wan asked.
"She didn't say, Master Kenobi."
"Did she go with Dalan?"
"Oh, no. He's not here. Onara said he was over at Lursan's. That he'd gone there last night"
Obi-Wan frowned. It sounded as if Onara and Dalan had had another fight. He wondered with a sickening feeling if it had anything to do with his meeting with her yesterday.
"What about Sinja-Bau? May I speak with her?"
"Just a moment, I'll get her for you."
Keria moved away from the screen. Obi-Wan looked over at Anakin, exchanging a troubled glance with his apprentice. He looked back at the screen as Keria reappeared, a frown on her face.
"She's not here, Master Kenobi. I don't understand it. Everyone's gone."
"Are you sure Onara didn't say where she was going?"
"No, Master Kenobi. At least I don't remember her saying. I was still kind of sleepy, and Onara told me to go back to bed, but I do remember Ben was very excited about wherever they were going."
"All right, Keria. Thank you."
Obi-Wan deactivated the comm-channel. He released a heavy breath. There was no reason to think anything was amiss, but he couldn't help feeling that something was terribly wrong.
Then, just as he was about to suggest to Anakin that the two of them go in search of Onara, for he knew he wouldn't feel right until he had seen her, his comm-channel buzzed. Thinking it was Keria, calling back to say she'd remembered where Onara had gone, Obi-Wan quickly activated it.
But instead of Keria, he was shocked to see Dalan' face on the screen. The Dynast looked terrible. Black hair stubbled his chin and cheeks, he looked like he had slept in his clothes, and his dark blue eyes were wild and bloodshot.
"Master Kenobi," he cried. "You have to help me. It's Onara. I think Lursan is going to kill her!"
To be continued...
Stars in the Darkness - Part Twenty-Seven
------------------------
Onara rushed over to Ben. She knelt down and gently took him by the arms, her heart breaking at the look of both fear and pain in his face.
"Ben, darling, come to Mama."
Ben released Sinja-Bau's legs and turned to his mother, moving into her arms. Onara held him close, his cheek soft and wet on hers from his tears, his small body, which she noted with a sharp pain was trembling, pressed against hers.
"It's all right, darling," she whispered. "It's all right."
But Onara knew she was lying. Nothing was all right and, she feared, would not be all right for a long time. She stood, her arms around Ben and looked over at Dalan.
He was slumped against the wall, but was conscious. He stared back at her with a dazed expression. Ben lifted his face from Onara's neck and looked over at him.
"Papa," he said softly.
Onara swallowed in a tight throat. She turned and looked over at Sinja-Bau. The older woman still stood in the doorway of the bedroom, but she had lowered her hand. She gave Onara a stricken look, her blue-green eyes filled with what looked like shame.
"I'm sorry---" she began, but stopped as Dalan slowly rose to his feet, groaning as he did so.
Onara turned back to him. He reached around and gingerly touched the back of his head. She gasped when she saw the blood on his fingers, her arms tightening around Ben. Dalan looked at his bloodied hand, then at Sinja- Bau.
"You tried to kill me," he said.
"No, no," Sinja-Bau said quickly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to---"
"Get out," Dalan slurred. "Get out before I call the authorities."
"She's not going anywhere," Onara said firmly. "If anyone is leaving, it's you."
"What?" Dalan whirled on Onara. "You're asking me to leave?"
"I'm not asking, Dalan. I'm demanding that you do so. You can come back when you've sobered up. But I won't have you here while you're in this condition."
Dalan glared at her, then made as if he was going to advance on her, but suddenly stopped. Onara saw he was staring at Ben where she held him in her arms. Dalan slowly reached out a hand towards him, but it was the bloodied one. Ben whimpered, his arms tightening around Onara's neck. She moved away from her husband, her only thought to keep him from Ben.
At her movement Dalan quickly lowered his hand, his face stricken. Onara felt a surge of pity for him, but only for a moment. He had laid hands on her, tried to hurt her, rape her, something he had never done before. Though she doubted he would harm Ben, she wasn't going to take that chance.
Dalan stared at her and Ben, his dark blue eyes pleading. Then he released a deep, shuddering breath. Glancing over at Sinja-Bau, a frown creased his forehead and his gaze sharpened.
"Dalan, let me look at your injury--" Sinja-Bau said, stepping towards him.
"Don't touch me," he snarled. "This is all your doing. You've always been against me. You Jedi are all alike. You all stick together. You're probably the one who gave Onara the idea about ending our marriage."
Sinja-Bau looked over at Onara, her expression one of puzzlement. But Onara didn't want to discuss any of what had happened between her and Dalan in front of Ben. Her only objective was to get Dalan out of the apartment.
"Please, Dalan, this isn't the time to discuss this. Sober up and we can talk about this tomorrow. I want to put Ben to bed. He's seen and heard enough, wouldn't you agree?"
Dalan drew his frenzied gaze away from Sinja-Bau and back to Onara. Again, she saw that hurt look on his face as he looked at Ben.
"I'm sorry, Ben," he said gently. "Truly, I am. I didn't want you...I didn't mean for you to..." Dalan stopped and looked down at the carpet.
"I know, Papa. I know you're sorry. Does your head hurt?"
Dalan reached back and touched his head, wincing as he did so. "Not much, but I'll take care of it. You go with Mama, okay? I'll see you tomorrow."
"All right, Papa."
Dalan moved past Sinja-Bau and Onara. As he did so, she saw the blood on the back of his head.
"Dalan, please, let us take care of your injury before you go."
Dalan turned, his expression closed and dark. "I'm fine, Onara. I'll have it looked at when I get to Lursan's."
She frowned at the mention of the Ahjane businessman. "Is that where you're going?"
Dalan shrugged. "Where else can I go? And at least I know I'll be welcome there."
"Dalan, please, don't be this way---"
But he had already turned and, the lift door sliding open and shut behind him, left the apartment.
Onara released a deep breath. She walked over to Sinja-Bau. The ex-Jedi was staring at the wall where she had thrown Dalan. There were some spots of blood on it. She turned to Onara, her expression troubled.
"Forgive me, Onara. I didn't mean to hurt him. I'd just gotten back with Ben and I heard the two of you shouting. I took Ben to his room, told him to wait there. When I saw Dalan coming at you, I just reacted."
Onara reached over and placed a hand on Sinja-Bau's arm. "It's all right, Sinja-Bau. Don't trouble yourself. You did the right thing."
"No, you don't understand," she said in a low voice. "It's not all right. And it wasn't the right thing."
Then she noted Ben staring at her. She reached over and gently stroked his cheek.
"Do you forgive me, little one, for hurting your Papa?"
Ben nodded. "I know you were just trying to help Mama. But I was so scared, Bau-Bau. I thought you were going to kill Papa. You were so angry. I could feel it through the Force. It made me feel cold and dark."
Sinja-Bau nodded, but Onara saw she was still quite upset. She wasn't sure what was going on with Sinja-Bau, why she was so distressed by what had happened, but she sensed it was something very important to her.
"Are you all right, Sinja-Bau?"
"Yes, yes, I'm fine," but Onara plainly heard in her voice that the older woman was far from fine. "Perhaps you should get Ben something to eat, Onara." She touched Ben's cheek again. "Aren't you hungry, dear? It's been hours since we had lunch."
Ben shook his head, his face sad. "I'm not hungry, Bau-Bau."
Onara stroked his soft black hair, nuzzling his cheek, dismayed at the look of sorrow on his face. "Well, what about a glass of milk and some Silrian berry-cookies? Would you be hungry for that?"
Ben's eyes, which still glistened with tears, brightened at the mention of his favorite treat. "But, Mama, you only let me have berry-cookies after I finish my dinner."
"I know, darling, but we'll make an exception for tonight, all right?"
Ben eagerly nodded. Onara was just about to take him to his bedroom, but she stopped and looked back at Sinja-Bau. The ex-Jedi stood, her shoulders slumped, staring down at the floor.
"Sinja-Bau, are you sure you're all right?"
Sinja-Bau's head jerked up, her features clouded, but she quickly smoothed over her face and gave Onara a smile, if a tad wan.
"Yes, I'm fine. Really. I'm going to my room to meditate for a bit. I'll be there if you need to talk."
Then she glanced over at Ben, indicating she understood Onara's reluctance to discuss what had happened between her and Dalan in front of him.
"Thank you, Sinja-Bau. I hope your meditation proves restful."
Onara turned and, with Ben in her arms, took him to his bedroom. She pressed open the door, the lights coming on as she entered. His room, like always, was a kaleidoscope of scattered toys, clothes and holo-books. She gently put him on his bed, noting that Obi-Wan, his pet voorpak, was sleeping soundly in a padded box on the nightstand.
"Now, wait here and I'll be right back with your cookies and milk."
"All right, Mama."
Onara went into the kitchen and got the cookies and a glass of milk, placing them on a tray which she carried into Ben's room. He had taken off his shoes and was playing with one of his Force toys. As Onara sat on the side of the bed, placing the tray on the nightstand, Ben levitated the top of the toy, which looked to her like some kind of puzzle box.
She waited, awed as always by Ben's command of the Force. She would have never thought in a million years she would ever have a Force sensitive child. But then, she told herself, she would never have imagined she would spend the night of a blessing ceremony with a Jedi Knight either.
Ben finished with his toy, putting it on the floor. Onara slid in next to him on the bed. He nestled beneath her arm, his head resting against her side. She handed him one of the cookies and the glass of milk. And she waited. Waited to see if he would reveal to her how much he had heard of her and Dalan's argument.
But Ben remained silent. He hummed softly to himself as he ate his cookies and drank his milk, occasionally peering around her to look over at Obi- Wan, who remained serenely oblivious to them both.
Onara lowered her chin onto the softness of his thick black hair, so much like her own, humming along with him. If not for the echoes of the words she and Dalan had hurled at each other still rumbling in her ears, she would have thought this night was no different than any other night she had put Ben to bed.
But it was different. And she couldn't pretend it wasn't.
"Mama?"
Onara's heart thumped in her chest.
"Yes, darling?"
Ben gave her his empty glass of milk. She put it on the tray. Then, noting there were some cookie crumbs around his mouth, she gently brushed them away.
"Is Papa going to be all right?"
"Yes, he'll be fine."
"Will he come back?"
"Yes, he'll come back tomorrow. He just needs to...to be away from us for a bit."
Ben reached down and ran his fingers along the velvet of her skirt.
"Mama?"
"Yes, Ben?"
"If I promise to be good, will you and Papa not fight anymore?"
Onara's eyes widened and, reaching down, she cupped Ben's chin and lifted his face towards her.
"What?"
"I heard you tell Papa I wasn't his son. I thought maybe it was because I've been bad. That you didn't want Papa to have someone like me for his son."
"Oh, Ben, darling, no," Onara cried, almost overwhelmed by his words. "That's not it at all. You're a wonderful boy, and any man would be proud to have you for his son."
"Really, Mama?" Ben asked as he looked up at her with Obi-Wan's eyes.
"Yes, yes," she cried, holding him close, struggling to keep the tears from spilling down her cheeks.
"Then will you and Papa not yell at each other anymore?"
Onara held Ben close, her throat tight with pain. She had not thought this was going to be easy, ending her marriage, but the effect she knew it was going to have on Ben was almost more than she could bear. He loved Dalan so much that the dissolution of their marriage would most certainly cause him great pain, but would it be better for her to remain married and have him witness scenes like that which had occurred this evening? She didn't think so.
She kissed the top of Ben's head, then drew back from him. Looking down, she stroked his soft cheeks, her heart swelling with love as she gazed down at her son.
"Ben, I wish I could promise you that we won't yell at each other anymore, but---"
"It's complicated." Ben nodded. "That's what Master Kenobi said. That sometimes things that happened with adults were complicated."
Onara nodded, a small smile on her face. "Yes, dear, that's right. It's complicated."
Ben scrunched up his face. "But, Mama, what does it mean? Complicated?"
"Well, it means something that's difficult to understand at first."
"Like the lessons Bau-Bau gives me?"
"Yes, like that."
"But, if I study really hard and I do what Bau-Bau tells me, then I understand."
Onara smiled, kissing his check. "Yes, you do, darling. You always do."
"So, I'll understand this too, right?"
Onara stared at Ben for a moment. How could a child who was not quite four understand something that she at twenty-two didn't herself understand; the ways of the human heart. The love she felt for Obi-Wan could never match what Dalan wanted from her. She knew that. And the love she felt for her son surpassed anything she could ever have imagined or dreamed. She had not thought it possible that she could love anyone as much as she loved Ben. But she did.
He was what mattered, she told herself. His happiness and his well-being. Not hers. Not Dalan's. It would hurt him, there was no question, her and Dalan's dissolution, but in the long run it would be for the best. And, hopefully, Dalan would come around when he was thinking more clearly. Then, like two rational and reasonable adults they could come to an agreement regarding Ben's future that would, she hoped, lessen the pain of their separation for him.
"I hope someday you will understand, Ben. And I'm sure you will. You're a very smart boy. Very bright. But, right now, I want you to do Mommy a big favor."
"What, Mama?"
"I want you to put on your night clothes, get back into bed and go to sleep. It's been a very long day and you need to rest."
"Will you tell me a story if I do?"
Onara touched him lightly on the tip of his nose with her finger. "Of course I will, dear."
"A story about Obi-Wan? You haven't told me one about him in a long time. I know you just make them up, Mama, but I like them."
Onara laughed, pleased to see Ben was none the worse for having witnessed that dreadful scene earlier.
"Yes, I'll tell you one about Obi-Wan."
Ben leapt out of the bed and ran about the room, looking for his night clothes. Onara watched him, a smile on her lips. Once he found them, he ran into the fresher. She heard him running water as he cleaned his teeth and washed up. She was tempted to go and help him, but the last time she'd done that he'd complained she was treating him like a little kid.
He finally came out of the fresher, his night clothes on, his feet bare, his hair slightly damp. He grinned at her as he climbed into the bed and cuddled close to her. Onara pulled the blanket over them both, having kicked off her slippers. She could smell the sweet-scent of teeth cleaner and soap about him as he slipped his arms about her waist.
"Ready?" she asked.
Ben nodded, smiling, as he looked up at her.
"All right," Onara said as she settled next to him. "Let's see. A story about Obi-Wan."
"Mama?
"Yes, darling?"
"Instead of a story about Obi-Wan, I want you to tell me the story you told him. About the royal twins."
"You really want to hear that one?"
Ben nodded. Onara drew him close, resting her chin gently on his head.
"Once upon a time," she began in a low, soft voice, "on a world far, far away, a beautiful young queen gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl. But, what should have been a time of great happiness in the kingdom was, unfortunately, a time of great sorrow for there was a darkness upon the land the queen ruled with her husband, the young king."
Onara told Ben the rest of the story, taking it far beyond what she had told Obi-Wan the night of the blessing ceremony when they had snuck away and went walking in the forest outside her father's manor. But, as with Obi- Wan, she did not finish the story, for Ben was soon asleep and she, unwilling to leave him, also fell asleep, her arms wrapped gently around him.
---------------
It was all Lursan could do not to sneer as he listened to Dalan. The Dynast had arrived at his penthouse an hour ago, just a few minutes after Lursan himself had returned from his meeting with Senator Gillom.
Both drunk and heavily drugged, for the fool had consumed the entire bottle of the drug-laced brandy Lursan had sent to him, Dalan had spilled out his pitiful, pathetic tale of what had happened between him and Onara. It would have been an amusing story, if not for the implications to Lursan and his plans, for Dalan had consumed so much of the drug in the brandy, it had made him both paranoid and delusional.
It was all Lursan could do not to laugh as he had tended to Dalan's head injury, for the Dynast had spouted a load of drug-induced nonsense about Onara and the Jedi being involved in a plot to kill him and take his wealth. It was purely laughable, for even Lursan knew the Jedi had no interest in such things. Kenobi wanted Onara, of that Lursan was certain of, but he knew the Jedi cared nothing about money.
But Lursan had not laughed. After putting away the med-kit, he had listened, growing more and more irritated with each passing moment. Now the idiot was blubbering, his face in his hands, about the look on the face of that brat, and how he not wanted Ben to see him that way. Lursan could care less about Ben's feelings, but he was very concerned that Dalan's actions tonight could prove detrimental to his plans for revenge against Skywalker and his master.
"Did Onara say anything about what she plans to do regarding the dissolution?"
Dalan raised his head from his hands, his dark blue eyes bloodshot and swollen.
"What she plans to do?"
"Yes, yes," Lursan snapped, trying hard, but not succeeding at keeping the impatience and irritation with Dalan out of his voice. "Did she say what she plans to do tomorrow? Will she go to the Ahjane embassy? Contact the Assembly?"
Dalan shrugged his wide shoulders, looking confused. "She didn't say anything about going go the embassy or contacting the Assembly. Just that she wanted to dissolve our marriage. Then, when Ben came into the room, her only concern was to get him away from me," he finished, his voice throbbing with anger and pain.
Lursan crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't like this, not one bit. He had resolved himself to not getting any assistance from Dalan to carry out his plans after he and Onara had made up. Now the fool had set into motion events Lursan could not effectively predict.
He chewed on his lower lip. His instincts, finely honed as a result of having been the leader of the Red Tide, told him that if he wanted to exact his revenge, he needed to do so soon. And the sooner he did, the sooner he could leave this planet for good. As long as Onara was with Dalan the better his chances were of getting to her and her son.
However, once she came under the protection of Kenobi, it would be close to impossible for Lursan to get to either of them. And, despite what Dalan had told him, that Onara had swore she was not leaving him for the Jedi, Lursan could not believe that once she was free, Kenobi would not want to have her and their son with him. Therefore, Lursan decided, he needed to act quickly.
"Dynast," he said, smoothing his voice as if he were running his hand over silk, "I can see it has been a most trying day for you. You can remain here if you like. Take the guest room. Get some sleep and tomorrow, I promise you, you will finally be freed from all this torment."
"But, you don't understand. Onara meant what she said. I could see it in her eyes. And after what I did to her..." Dalan stopped, lifting his hands before him, as if reliving the violence he had enacted upon her.
Lursan walked over and put a comforting hand on Dalan's shoulder.
"Words, my dear Dynast. Mere words. And emotions were running high between you both. Quite understandable, considering the terrible state you were in. No, do not dwell on what was said. Do as I say. Get some rest. Tomorrow will be a new day. A chance for you to start again."
Dalan stood shakily. He nodded, his face twisted with a pitiable, desperate hope.
"Yes, tomorrow is another day. Onara was right. I was drunk, I wasn't myself. The things I said, did to her...that wasn't me." Dalan stopped, looking down at the floor. "I don't understand what could have happened, how I could have..." His voice trailed away and he turned away from Lursan and headed towards the guest room.
"Yes, I need to sleep," he went on in a low voice as he stumbled out of the common area. "Then I'll see Onara tomorrow. And we'll talk. And everything will be fine. I'll promise never to drink again. I'll do whatever she wants, whatever she asks. Just so she doesn't leave me."
Dalan entered the guest room, the door sliding shut behind him. Lursan stared at the closed door for a long moment. He almost felt pity for the Dynast. Almost.
He turned and went to his own bedroom. He would not be able to sleep tonight. He never could before a killing. Instead, he laid out on his bed the clothes he would wear tomorrow. An unassuming dark blue suit, casual and elegant, as befitted an Ahjane businessman.
But hidden inside the jacket were a small, but powerful hand-blaster and a dagger. The dagger had belonged to his son. It was an appropriate weapon to use he thought as he stroked the jeweled handle.
After he finished with his clothing, Lursan sat on the floor, his legs crossed, his elbows resting gently on his knees. He would mediate for the rest of the night and prepare himself. Although he had killed many over the years, first as a member of the Red Tide, then as its leader, killed men, women and children, he had never looked upon the taking of any life casually.
There was always a price to be paid for the spilling of blood, and Lursan knew that one day he would be called upon to pay that price. Then he smiled as he slowly closed his eyes. But not today nor tomorrow would payment be demanded from him by the gods of death and vengeance. And certainly not before he had his own revenge on the Jedi Master and his cursed apprentice.
--------------
Bright morning light spilled through the window of Obi-Wan's quarters in the Jedi Temple. He was one of the lucky ones. His quarters had a window. Many of the others did not, located as they were deep within the Temple.
Bare-chested, for he had just come out of the shower, Obi-Wan stood and watched the sunlight as it spilled across the shimmering towers of the Coruscant skyline. He sipped his morning cup of kafe, something he often missed on his missions out in the field.
And something, he now realized, he would miss again, for he was going to speak to Master Yoda about returning to active duty. His injuries had healed and he was eager to be out and about. This sitting around, restful as it might have been, led to an inordinate amount of brooding, and brooding was something Obi-Wan did not like nor felt it was productive to indulge in.
He turned, placing his now empty cup on the table near the window. He went into his bedroom and put on his tunic. The one he had worn yesterday, he took off a chair next to his bed. He was about to place it in the bin for the wash-cycler, but as he did, he noted a scent about it.
Holding it to his face, Obi-Wan slowly closed his eyes. It was Onara's perfume, from when he had embraced her yesterday. His heart started to beat rapidly as he recalled the feel of her in his arms, the warmth of her lush lips under his as he had kissed her, the softness of her breasts pressed against his chest.
With a strangled groan, Obi-Wan lowered the tunic, but he could still smell her, the scent of the honeyroses in her perfume like a sweet fog about him, not dulling but sharpening his senses and filling them all--taste, touch, sight, hearing, scent--with nothing but her.
His throat tight, Obi-wan threw the tunic into the bin, then hurriedly put on his belt, clipped his lightsaber onto it and drew on his robe. Yes, he thought, as he strode out of his bedroom. The sooner he was back on a mission, the better. Onara was not his. She would never be his. And, although, he could never forget her, he knew he had to let her go.
Just as he was about to leave his quarters, he noted the sunlight shimmering on the glass pane of Ben's picture that he'd had framed. He stopped and walked over to it, smiling at the childlike drawing of him and Ben and the endearing words his son had wrote, unaware that the man he thought of as his good friend was actually his father.
Obi-Wan reached over and touched the face of the drawing Ben had done of himself, his finger pressing against the glass, but as he did so he felt a coldness rippling through his hand.
Obi-Wan jerked his hand away, suddenly overcome by a feeling of _wrongness_, as if the Force were trying to warn him of something. He focused his awareness, trying to discover the source of the premonition, but his thoughts were interrupted by the chiming of his front door.
With a frustrated sigh, he turned away from Ben's drawing and went to answer the door. Anakin stood outside it, his tall, lanky frame looming in the doorway.
"Morning, Master."
Obi-Wan waved Anakin in. "Morning, Anakin. You're up early."
Anakin grinned as he moved past Obi-Wan. "So are you, Master."
He walked over and sat on the small couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he crossed his dark boots at the ankle. Obi-Wan noted that Anakin had an all too-knowing smirk on his face as he grinned back at his master.
"What?" Obi-Wan blurted out.
"Did you and Onara have a nice _chat_ yesterday?"
Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest. "Anakin, really. It doesn't take a Jedi Master to see that you're intimating something most inappropriate."
Anakin's blue eyes widened and he pointed to himself. "Me? Intimate something inappropriate? Never. Not in a thousand years."
"You seem to have forgotten that Onara is a married woman."
Anakin shook his head firmly. "I haven't forgotten that, Master." Then he grinned slyly. "I just hope you didn't forget it."
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. He could see Anakin was in one of his mischief- making moods, but he most certainly was not in the mood to deal with it. Especially since what Anakin was hinting about regarding the two of them had almost happened.
When he had held Onara in his arms, then channeled the Force through her, touching her in a way he had never touched her before, he had realized he could very easily give up everything he had dedicated his life to in order to spend the rest of it holding her the way he had held her in that holographic, moon-drenched garden of Suheb Province.
And the ease with which he had felt such a strong and steadfast desire to be with her had alarmed and disturbed him. Then he frowned, oblivious for a moment to Anakin's presence. He was a Jedi Knight and master to a Jedi Padawan. He had known no other way of life and, until he had met Onara four years ago, had not wanted any other kind of life.
But all that had changed with the blessing ceremony he had so reluctantly agreed to participate in on that fateful day back on Ahjane. As a result, he had fallen in love with a woman who was not only beautiful, not only spirited and gentle and loving, but was the only woman he would ever love, would always love and could never have.
"Hey, Master, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."
Obi-Wan shook himself and looked over at his padawan. Anakin's clear blue eyes were brimming with apology as he gazed back at him.
"What?" Obi-Wan said.
Anakin stood and walked over to him. "You were frowning so fiercely, Master, I was afraid I'd made you mad."
"No, I'm not mad, Anakin. It's just that....Onara...I don't want to...I can't..."
"I understand, Master. I'm sorry."
Obi-Wan could hear in Anakin's voice that he wasn't just apologizing for his gaffe in having intimated that Onara and he had done more than talk yesterday. He was also expressing his sympathy regarding Obi-Wan's circumstances, for Anakin knew very well how much Onara and Ben meant to him, and how difficult it was for him to have to remain apart from them.
Grateful for his padawan's apology and for his understanding regarding his feelings for Onara and Ben, but determined to continue on the course he had set for himself, Obi-Wan adjusted his belt and straightened his robe.
"I was just on my way to see Master Yoda. I think it's time you and I get back into the field, don't you?"
"Uh, well, yes, if you say so, Master," Anakin replied, but he sounded less than enthusiastic about the prospect.
Obi-Wan wondered if it had something to do with Senator Amidala. He reached over and put a reassuring hand on Anakin's arm.
"I'll try to see if I can get us missions that don't take us too far from Coruscant."
Anakin shrugged, but Obi-Wan could see he was still troubled.
"What is it, Anakin? What's wrong?" he asked.
"Master, when I went to see the Chancellor the other day he told me that Onara had been receiving death threats."
Fear pulsed through Obi-Wan. "Death threats? But, she never mentioned them to me."
Anakin nodded. "The Chancellor said she probably wouldn't. She's been receiving them for some time, but now that the Ethics Committee is turning its attention on Senator Gillom, the Chancellor fears that this time something could happen to her. Gillom is the very scrapings of the bottom of the barrel, Master. There's no question he's as crooked and rotten as they come, but no one's ever been able to get anything on him."
"I'm well aware of Senator Gillom's activities," Obi-Wan said grimly, "and his uncanny ability to avoid prosecution for them."
Then he recalled that feeling of wrongness he had felt earlier through the Force. He quickly turned, his robe swirling about him and went over to the desk in the corner of the room, Anakin trailing behind him. He activated the desk's comm-channel, punching in the code for Onara's apartment.
Moments passed but no one answered. Obi-Wan felt a chill slithering down his spine. It was very early, so he couldn't imagine that everyone was already gone for the day. He was just about to run out and rush over to the apartment, when Keria's face coalesced on the screen.
"Yes?" she said sleepily.
Her blond hair was mussed and her blue eyes were half-closed, the strap of her sleep gown hanging over one bare shoulder. Then they widened when she saw who it was.
"Oh, Master, Kenobi. Master Anakin," she cried as she quickly rubbed her eyes, pulled up her strap and fussed with her hair.
"Keria, is Onara there? I'd like to speak with her."
"No, I'm sorry, Master Kenobi. She's not."
"She's not?"
Keria shook her head. "She and Ben left. You see, I got home late last night. I was on a date." She blushed and slid her eyes over at Anakin. "Then, this morning, when I got up to use...to use the fresher," and she blushed harder, "she and Ben were already up eating breakfast. That's when she told me they were going out."
"Going out where?" Obi-Wan asked.
"She didn't say, Master Kenobi."
"Did she go with Dalan?"
"Oh, no. He's not here. Onara said he was over at Lursan's. That he'd gone there last night"
Obi-Wan frowned. It sounded as if Onara and Dalan had had another fight. He wondered with a sickening feeling if it had anything to do with his meeting with her yesterday.
"What about Sinja-Bau? May I speak with her?"
"Just a moment, I'll get her for you."
Keria moved away from the screen. Obi-Wan looked over at Anakin, exchanging a troubled glance with his apprentice. He looked back at the screen as Keria reappeared, a frown on her face.
"She's not here, Master Kenobi. I don't understand it. Everyone's gone."
"Are you sure Onara didn't say where she was going?"
"No, Master Kenobi. At least I don't remember her saying. I was still kind of sleepy, and Onara told me to go back to bed, but I do remember Ben was very excited about wherever they were going."
"All right, Keria. Thank you."
Obi-Wan deactivated the comm-channel. He released a heavy breath. There was no reason to think anything was amiss, but he couldn't help feeling that something was terribly wrong.
Then, just as he was about to suggest to Anakin that the two of them go in search of Onara, for he knew he wouldn't feel right until he had seen her, his comm-channel buzzed. Thinking it was Keria, calling back to say she'd remembered where Onara had gone, Obi-Wan quickly activated it.
But instead of Keria, he was shocked to see Dalan' face on the screen. The Dynast looked terrible. Black hair stubbled his chin and cheeks, he looked like he had slept in his clothes, and his dark blue eyes were wild and bloodshot.
"Master Kenobi," he cried. "You have to help me. It's Onara. I think Lursan is going to kill her!"
To be continued...