Well, Athena, it seems I'm a bit slow in getting the plot into motion. That was just a prelude, now the real action is about to come. *Looks at the page count and chokes on her words.*

Thank you, ewan's girl. Future will show.

No, Farore, it's not Nais. It is someone else entirely.

*********** **********

Force swirled in hushed rough waves, whispering, nudging, mixing with coolness of the air, and filling his soul with unrest. Obi-Wan went through the shady streets as fast as he could without actually running – and weighted by an oppressing feeling of not being fast enough. A running Jedi in the middle of the night this far down would attract too much unwanted attention. Even his hastened trot drew glances of various beings from shaded corners. He would have sent all the possible risks to Sith and ran if only he knew where to. His destination was close, very close, this much he could tell for sure. But his every step needed to be checked, direction corrected. And it slowed him immensely.

"Hurry," the Force urged.

And he hurried, and lost direction, and retraced his steps, the sense of time building up inside him, of time slipping through his fingers like grains of sand, like flow of water. The sense of irreparable about to occur.

Where? Where? Where?!

He turned his head around, wrapped up his cloak tighter around himself to drive away the chill and searched. He never stopped to consider whether it was the chill of the night or the chill of foreshadowing that cooled his heart.

Force led him, but in his anxiety he lost its guiding thread every now and then. He dashed forward in impatience, then stopped listening to the Force, seeking out the frail sinister presence. His fingers moved slightly, running over the invisible threads, sorting through them looking for the one he needed. There!

And he ran again, almost like in his dreams… But there he at least knew where to go. Here… He stopped once more to find the direction he had lost.

He was about to start running again when it happened…

The ugly inky blot of violent death spread in the brilliance of the Force, tainting the area, tainting the very air. Breath caught in his throat. Late. He was late. It was the death of a Force-sensitive. Balan-Tar! It happened so close… And he was late!

Black tendrils of Dark Side crept down the street, wiggling like snakes, like hungry tentacles of a large devilfish. They delved into Obi-Wan's mind, trying to stifle, trying to conquer. The knight lowered his head.

Like a short explosion another death burst into the Force – this one of a non-Force-sensitive but at the same place. No time for grief, he needed to find the spot. Maybe he could spare someone. With renewed determination Obi-Wan resumed his search.

The Twi'lek mannequins looked down at him from behind their strobbing bulbs, as though mocking.

Hastily Obi-Wan opened the door to the bar. The Force was leading him there. He shut his eyes for a moment at the blazing light of variegated glow-rods. When he opened them again the bar was empty. He made a step forward. Something shifted in shadows. Not so empty, it seemed. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a movement near one of the windows but when he turned that way whoever it had been was gone. The Jedi probed the unknown presence thoroughly, but this wasn't the Sith, and he let the person go. Soundlessly Obi-Wan moved forward.

Four – no, five – repellent bodies were lying between chopped up into grits tables. Four threadbare human and an Ishi Tib in Jedi clothes. There was no trace of the Darksider anywhere. Whoever had killed them was far away from here now. One by one Obi-Wan bent over each of the bodies, trying to find any sign of life though his heart told him he would find none. Finally he straightened and attempted to find the dark remainders of the Sith's presence, but taints of deaths mixed and flowed, muffling, distorting everything else. There was no telling where the Sith had gone.

Lowering his head in defeat and grief for lives lost Obi-Wan picked his comlink to contact the Temple to tell them the Jedi had lost one of their own.

************ ***********

The raven-like woman was fighting with grace and power rarely seen. From behind his table Brimar watched her and the Jedi fight and even he, a layman, could see that the Jedi had no chances against this power, embodied in a lovely visage of a woman. Her eyes burned with cold fire of hatred and sneer. Her moves were lightning-quick and precise.

If this was the servant of the Dark Side of the Force, Brimar thought, he never wanted to get intimately acquainted with one.

He suddenly thought of Dooku – his boss, his companion, his friend. The Count was a Force-sensitive and a great one at that. Brimar knew he could trust him. But… There was a risk – and it suddenly seemed so close – the risk of him turning to the Dark Side. The man shivered, imagining his friend with the same expression on his face, with the same hatred for everything in his eyes.

The Jedi, already sweating and out of breath, slipped in defense and made a mistake. Holding his breath Brimar watched as the red blade swung in a wide arc, cutting the Ishi Tib just below his shoulders. Foul smell of burnt flesh filled the air, and Brimar held his nose with both hands. The body crushed to the floor heavily.

Not stopping to even look at her fallen enemy the Sith swung her blazing weapon to the three standing men. The folds of her cloak billowed around her slim body as petals of a beautiful black flower. The men recoiled from the red scorching heat of the blade but not fast enough. In quick succession three heads rolled to the floor. The Sith was left standing amidst the carnage like an angel of death.

For a moment she stood motionless, her eyes closed as though feasting with the terrible deed of her hands. During this moment Brimar held hope she hadn't noticed him. But as her razor-sharp eyes opened, and she looked straight at him he knew the hope was pointless. Seeing no reason in hiding any further Brimar slowly stood up.

Calmly he measured his chances. He had a blaster but what was it worth against a Sith? He was as helpless against her as a newborn baby. His chances were even smaller than those of the now dead Jedi. His lips parted in the mirthless smile as he gazed into the eyes of his death.

The Sith started to raise her hand, but it stopped in midair. The woman turned sharply towards the entrance. Brimar turned too. There was nothing there, yet something had alerted her. Then in the blink of an eye she was gone, leaving her might-have-been victim alone and confused. Brimar wiped perspiration from his forehead with slightly trembling hand, squinting at the door again, then looked at the bodies before him.

~Should I inform someone, authorities…?~ He looked around in search for the barman, but the man had apparently disappeared while the Sith had been occupied. ~Great! Go, coward.~

He looked at the door again. What or who could have scared the Sith? Obviously not another toper. Brimar thought that he really didn't need any more problems. And he didn't want to know who it was.

The door started to open, and Brimar dashed to the closest window. Hiding behind a not-too-clear curtain he was about to climb out the window but… An almost painful surge of curiosity stooped him, and he froze behind the curtain, watching. Another Jedi entered the bar.

~Who else would scare a Sith?!~ Brimar mentally slapped himself.

This Jedi was human, and Brimar watched as he closed his eyes at the sharp contrast of light. He could easily see the Jedi from his hiding spot while the other could not see him.

~Oh, really? What about the Force?~

Suddenly remembering that he was at a disadvantage against the Jedi and that he didn't want to answer the uncomfortable questions Brimar quietly slipped out of the window and ran as fast as he could.

************ ***********

The Senate building teemed with life as Anakin walked idly its spacious intricately decorated halls in the late hours of morning. The senators were in general the people of taste and more importantly of money. It would not do for the place they worked in to insult their senses. It would not do for the Senate building – the virtual center of the Republic, the focus of ruling power – to look like a mere office. And so the magnificent building, designed by renowned architects, decorated with numerous works of art was a feast to the eye and an excellent guide through the various cultures of the galaxy as every senator wished for his or her sector of the building to be decorated according to the traditions of their homeplanets.

Anakin had no classes to attend to this morning – which was a rare occasion really – and he didn't want to miss his chance. His Master who had left the Temple almost as soon as they had arrived – though it had been deep into the night – was absent when Anakin left the Temple to come here. The Padawan knew the Knight had returned to the Temple at dawn, but the Council had requested he appear before them immediately, and Obi-Wan was now giving his report to them – still.

Catching up on the study material he had missed during the days they were off seemed way too boring to the young Padawan, and as he barely had any friends at the Temple he decided to pay a visit to his friend at the Senate – the Chancellor.

Palpatine was always glad to see him and always had time for him whenever he came. And he was always a patient listener and a wise advisor. There was also something that drew Anakin to the man: that wisdom, that kindness, sincerity. His friendly warm smiles and no dull lectures everyone at the Temple seemed so fond of. He sometimes reminded Anakin of Qui-Gon.

In the corridor leading to Palpatine's study the boy paused. What if he came at a wrong time? What if he bothered the Chancellor? He looked around the hall uncertainly. Was it right to come just like that, without prior notice?

A woman came from one of the silvery doors lining the mulberry wall and started to walk toward him in a brusque, business-like but somehow tired pace. The clicking of her high heels on the crimson parquet echoed loudly around the empty hall. She looked… weird, Anakin mused looking her over with sudden interest. He had a feeling he had seen her before, but something was wrong with her appearance now.

He stared at her bluntly, wondering what felt so awkward about her. Dark-blond hair, brushed back in a tight bun, black eyes – so dark it was impossible to discern the pupils. Eyes strangely dull, devoid of sparkle, devoid of strength her face suggested she had. Her overall appearance looked all right to Anakin aside from those eyes, but something was definitely wrong. The feeling grew stronger with every second as she approached him. The Force…

Wait a minute! Gathering the Force around himself Anakin looked with the extra vision it provided at the woman's presence and nearly recoiled in shock. The presence seemed… blistered, scarred, though how it was possible the boy had no idea. He suddenly remembered seeing her here before – she was one of the Chancellor's aides – but never had her aura seemed so unnatural, so… ill.

And underneath it all was fear. Great, primary fear. It throbbed inside her presence barely beneath the surface. She was scared to death, and Anakin felt himself nearing panic when he touched that bone-deep terror. He quickly withdrew and simply stared at her, wide-eyed. What could have possibly scared her this much? What could have possible scare anyone this much?

"Hello," Anakin said when she was a mere meter away from him, his voice sounding strangled.

"Hello," she replied in a singsong voice, brushing his arm briefly. Without another glance she walked past him and disappeared behind one of the doors.

Feeling the strain of her fear slowly melt away Anakin breathed a deep sigh. Using every Jedi technique he knew to calm himself the boy went to the door leading to Palpatine's office. With a faint whine the door's halves slid apart, revealing a round form of the office. Anakin winced at the sight. He wasn't the one to pay heed to decoration but ever-present red rattled even him. The Chancellor was sitting at his desk writing something. At the sound of the door opening he raised his head.

"Oh, hello, Anakin." A smile appeared on the aged face.

"Hello, sir."

Palpatine motioned at the seats in front of his table, inviting Anakin to sit down, and leaned back in his chair. He waited until the boy made himself comfortable before starting to speak.

"What brings you here, my young friend?"

"Uh, I had nothing to do and I…"

"I see. Would you like some sweets?" The old man stood up, walked to a cupboard fitted in the wall and picked a box of sweets from one of the shelves, looking at Anakin.

The boy nodded vigorously. He loved sweets. As soon as the box was in his hands he opened it and promptly stuffed two sweets into his mouth. The Chancellor watched him with a fatherly smile. His mouth full, Anakin looked at the box, and his eyes widened.

"This is my present for you, my young friend. I know they don't give you much candy at the Temple."

"No, they don't. But these are very expensive, I saw…"

"They are yours. You can eat as many as you want."

Anakin's eyes lit up with happiness. Palpatine smiled again and walked back to his table, but as he turned from the Padawan the Chancellor's smile lost all its kindness. ~Give the boy a candy, and his heart is yours.~

"Thank you, sir!" Anakin paused for a moment. "Um, I saw a woman… back in the hall. She… she seemed to be… upset." How could he explain to the Chancellor what he had felt through the Force? With all his kindness and chariness Palpatine knew nothing about the Force.

"A woman? Ah, that must be Nais. Yes, she is quite upset lately. Her family is in danger. She's afraid to lose them. Unfortunately neither she nor I can help them. It is laudable of you to worry about her."

Anakin lowered himself, pleased to be praised.

"So, young Anakin, how are you doing?"

"Fine, I think."

"I heard you and your Master were away for some time. Did you have a mission?" ~ Why do I have to drag it from him?~

"No, it's that… Master Obi-Wan's mother has died. We went to visit her because she wasn't dead yet, but when we came she was and we stayed for the funeral…" Anakin trailed off, afraid his crumpled words made no sense.

Palpatine smiled and nodded, showing that he understood. He, after all, already knew it.

"Well, so then we went to her homeplanet and stayed at a temple. It was like Jedi Temple but different."

Anakin became animated telling about his new friend, Dar'Yana, how they had fished and swam in the river and done many other 'cool' things. Palpatine listened patiently, waiting for this boisterous fountain of words and impressions to wear out. Finally Anakin ceased talking and stuffed another candy into his mouth.

"And what about your Master? Is he all right?"

"Umm, not quite, I think."

"What happened?" Concerned expression clouded Palpatine's features.

Anakin looked at him with sudden doubt. ~Should I tell him what Master Obi-Wan learned about his father?~

************ ***********