I'm sorry it took so long to get this chapter written.
Athena, thank you. See what happens next.
Thanks, ewan's girl. I'm afraid family reunion is not too close yet, but it definitely will occur, he he.
*********** **********
In the morning a very disgruntled Brimar quietly entered the office-like room crammed with newest electronics in their secret headquarters. All this electronics was designed for shadowing, secret observation and listening. But as Dooku liked to empathize it was nothing compared to the abilities of a single Force-user. And Brimar had had a chance to make certain of his rectitude this very night. His failure with Holocron had placed a displeased frown onto Brimar's face.
The room's only occupant sat hunched over some intricate schemes, planning something apparently. Letting the door slide close soundlessly behind him Brimar paused watching Dooku work. He knew the Count was aware of his presence – it was almost impossible to sneak on the former Jedi – and Brimar waited for an acknowledgement.
"Are you going to stand there all day?" Dooku finally asked not turning away from his schemes.
Without a word Brimar crossed the room and sat down onto a chair next to the Count. When silence started to be awkward Dooku lifted his eyes up at his friend.
"What is it?"
"You know that I've lost the Holocron I was after. And nearly lost my life, too."
Dooku raised a brow. "And it is all? You are angry because you couldn't get that Holocron? Nonsense. It isn't worth being angry," he said casually. His tone was that of a person speaking to a little child.
Brimar's eyes caught something sparkling on the table in front of him. There, between datapads and papers was lying a glistening crystal – Holocron. He swallowed hard.
"Where did you get it?"
"This? Lord Sidious was kind enough to provide me with this Holocron from his collection when I told him about your fiasco."
Somehow that stung. Long ago had he lost an ability to be proud, had learned to submit his ego and control his emotions – or so he had thought. Now he found he must have been mistaken. The person he thought of as one of his closest friends discussed his failing with a Sith Lord!
"Dooku, have you lost your mind? You took this Holocron…"
"I do what I consider necessary," the Count interrupted him unceremoniously. His voice was laced with cold.
Brimar looked at him, incredulous. "This thing could be dangerous."
"My dear friend." Brimar had to subdue the shiver that overtook him at the way these words were spoken. "You have no connection to the Force at all. I, on contrary, am a master in the use of the Force. Do you think you have any right to tell me what is right and what is wrong concerning the Force – of which you have no idea?"
"Fine!" Brimar leapt onto his feet. "Make a fuss of your new toy all you want. But don't call me when you turn to the Dark Side!"
With that he stormed out of the room, wishing he could bang the door loudly to stress his point.
*********** **********
The Healers' Ward was a familiar sight with its stark white walls, sense of diseases and healers rushing busily about. But that was the usual part of the Healers', which was now screened off by a glass door that let no sounds in. And here… here was the realm where mind-healers ruled. Like another universe. Silence was the sound here. Muted lights, slow crawling of digits on the wall chrono.
Anakin sat huddled in a chair that looked to be comfortable enough yet provided none of the coziness its outward appearance suggested. Anakin was waiting. Had it been two hours already? A casual observer would have thought the boy was sleeping peacefully but that was not the case. The Padawan had resorted to this trick after the third time the healers tried to kick him out of the waiting room which he resisted with obstinate recalcitrance.
Suddenly his ears perked at the sound of the door opening, and he peeked out from half-closed lids guardedly. For a moment bustling roar filled his ears but immediately died down to a faint hum as the door closed.
It was Bant.
A healer came out of a room to his left and walked to his colleague giving Anakin a sliding sidelong glance.
"How is he?" Bant asked in a hushed tone. Anakin knew for sure of whom she was speaking. The mind-healer, apparently, did too.
"We've checked his mind and all of his bonds for any… divergence."
"And?"
"Before I can proceed I must be sure you have the right to receive this information. You must understand, the Council…"
"The Council told me everything. They sent Obi-Wan here because his new-found father is Darth Sidious." The Mon Calamari looked the tall mind-healer straight in the eyes which was no small feat with her being much shorter.
"Very well then," the Twi'lek healer didn't seem to be thrown off balance by the steady gaze of Bant's silvery eyes. "He is still in a bit of a shock about the news of his father but not overly so. He's handling it quite well. He also has a rightfully strong bond with his Padawan…"
Both healers threw a look at Anakin.
"But there is one thing that concerns me. His bond with his former Master has been cut off rather abruptly."
Bant scoffed, "That is much of an understatement."
"Perhaps. The bond was ripped out being fully open, and it must have been very painful. In order to lessen that pain Knight Kenobi had built a barrage of shields protecting that area of his mind."
"Could it bring any damage to his brain?"
"It is now stable so I doubt it could bring any new damage. But that part of his mind is now completely blocked. If he came to us in a few days after the bond was cut we would have been able to help him. Now…" the healer shrugged. "I'm afraid there is nothing we can do about it."
"Could it be dangerous?"
"No, I don't think so. That part of his mind is passive now, and I don't think he will ever need it."
"What are you going to tell the Council?"
"We did not detect any unusual inclination towards the Dark Side. He is free to leave us in a few hours."
"Can I see him?" Both healers turned sharply, startled by Anakin's voice which held no trace of sleepiness. Bant smiled slightly at him, but the boy didn't return the smile. He watched the Twi'lek intently.
The mind-healer looked at the chrono. "Yes, I think it is all right to visit him now. If you'll excuse me, I have work to do." And he disappeared behind one of the doors.
Anakin jumped to his feet still unconsciously clutching the box with sweets he had all but forgotten about.
Slowly opening the door to the room his Master was being kept in Anakin peeked inside warily. He suddenly felt awkward and unsure though he had not the faintest idea of what made him so. The slowly widening crack revealed a standard room with a bed at the wall… empty. Anakin blinked in surprise. Where was Master Obi-Wan? Padawan proceeded to open the door. Ah, there he was! A seemingly comfy armchair – though Anakin was now dubious of the questionable comfort it might provide – was turned to the window for a better view of Coruscant's busy sky. Slightly tousled locks of ginger hair covered the armchair's back.
With a sudden peak of mischief Anakin sneaked into the room, shutting the door soundlessly behind himself. A few more careful steps and Anakin flung himself at Obi-Wan who caught him effortlessly.
"Hello there!" Obi-Wan's smile could rival the brightness of Coruscant's sun.
"Hi, Master!"
Anakin wiggled slightly to get a better position on the knight's lap. He snuggled close to the older Jedi then looked up into his face.
"They didn't hurt you, did they?" Anakin's voice was half-concerned, half-playful. He could sense Obi-Wan was unharmed but he needed to ask anyway.
"Umm…" Obi-Wan picked up the game and pretended to be thoughtful. "No, I guess not. They kept all the dragons away from me. Otherwise what would I do without my loyal henchman?"
Anakin giggled imagining Obi-Wan dressed in ancient hauberk and helmet with long bright feathers atop it. The Master looked at him with question evident in his eyes. On an impulse Anakin sent the mental picture along with warm laughter through the bond, worrying slightly because he had never done it before. And thus he was pleasantly surprised when he received back through the bond a chatoyant trill of Obi-Wan's laughter mixed with affection. Anakin hugged his Master tighter, and the forgotten box of sweets fell onto the floor.
"Oops," the boy bent over to pick the carton from the floor when a small white envelope flew from somewhere inside his tunic.
Both the Master and the Apprentice stared at the envelope, Obi-Wan more concerned because of Anakin's surprise than the envelope itself. Anakin picked it up carefully as though it might be something dangerous and unfolded it.
"Master, it's for you."
"Really?"
Anakin threw a confused look at him. Obi-Wan shrugged, took the note from the boy's hands and read it.
[i]Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Dangerous things are going to happen at the Chancellor's next press conference. Attack is being planned. Be careful.
Friend.[/i]
"At least they didn't write 'Dear Obi-Wan Kenobi' and 'yours faithfully'," Obi-Wan quipped looking the note over. "Do you know where you could get this?"
"Nope. I've never seen it before. I have no idea how it could get into my pocket," Anakin lied.
In fact he guessed someone had put it there at the Senate building – many people had brushed past him while he walked to Palpatine's office. But he was suddenly reluctant to tell Obi-Wan he had been at the Senate. ~He has enough to worry about without me being out of the Temple without permission. Besides the Chancellor is my friend, and I have a right to be friends with anyone I want. And Master does not really need to know who I'm friends with… He doesn't like politicians… He might even forbid me visit the Chancellor. No, he needs not know.~
"Umm, Master, can a presence look… burnt through the Force?" Anakin made an awkward attempt to change subject.
"Burnt? How so?" Obi-Wan tucked the note into the inner pocket of his tunic and looked at Anakin in puzzlement.
"I… I don't know. It just looked… like something has burned it."
"Are you sure? I never encountered anything like what you describe. Could you show me?"
Bewilderment showed in the boy's blue eyes.
"Through the bond," Obi-Wan clarified. "The way you showed me the picture of ancient knight. Can you?"
"I'll try…"
"Do or do not…" Obi-Wan started with a small smile that did nothing to hide his light frown.
"There's no try." They finished together.
Anakin concentrated, trying to imagine the aura that had rattled him so. But the harder he tried the more vague the picture was – blurred, unstable. After ten minutes of tiring concentration Anakin gave up.
"I can't even remember it clearly," he confessed.
"Hmm," was all Obi-Wan said.
*********** ***********
"You knew!" A slim accusatory finger of Master Adi Gallia pointed at Master Mace Windu. Her cerulean eyes, accentuated with tanned lovely face and bizarre headdress, fulminated. "You knew there was another Sith and you kept it from the rest of the Council! You and Master Yoda – cursed conspirators!"
Mace Windu looked slightly pallid under the thunderstorm she brought down on him. The rage of this fragile woman was worse than a dozen space-pirates armed to the teeth and ready to fight. The beautiful councilwoman paced the marble floor of the Council room angrily throwing accusations and curses Mace doubted these walls – guards of the epitome of serenity and wisdom – ever heard before.
"We…" Windu tried to interject, but was completely drowned out by Adi's strong contralto.
Master Gallia proceeded to fume, there was no stopping her, and Mace after several miserably failed attempts to calm her down had finally settled on simply waiting it out. The force of this frail woman was amazing, and Windu involuntarily remembered a certain imposing Jedi Master who was prone to throw up what looked whimsical outbursts in Mace's eyes. But compared to Jinn Adi was merely a quiet lamb much to Windu's contentment. Mace shuddered thinking what Qui-Gon would have said if he were here.
"Stop this you will," an unmistakable voice filled a small break when Adi paused to catch her breath, and both councillors turned to look at the new arrival.
"Master Yoda," Master Gallia said in a slightly more serene voice than just moments before – there were after all very few who dared to rage in his presence – but her fury was still barely under the surface if somewhat more controlled.
The diminutive Master hobbled slowly to his chair and made himself comfortable in it before looking up at Gallia with two round citrus eyes.
"Understand your anger I do. Rightful it is, though let it out like that you should not. Release it into the Force you should."
The woman had a grace to actually blush at such undisguised reproof when one of the oldest Jedi found it necessary to lecture her as though she were an initiate.
"But Master Yoda, you two, the senior members of the Council, kept back the information about the Sith." Adi's voice was much quieter now, although it still had the edge and was now laced with ice, showing she was not going to give up easily. "Do you not trust the rest of the Council so much that you hide information?"
"Deplorable it is. True to their vows not all Jedi stay."
Adi lowered herself into a chair, dumbstruck. Her features sharpened as she tried to wrap her mind around the impossible. It didn't bring her any consolation that Mace looked just as stunned as she was.
"Do you imply that there is… a traitor? In the Council?"
Yoda inclined his head sadly in the way of an answer.
"B-but who? Who do you suspect?"
She was looking at the floor as though the elaborate interlacing of pastel design of the ancient marble held all the answers she wanted – and not wanted to hear.
"No one and everyone." Yoda sighed. "Even myself."
Adi looked up at him sharply – this was no time for joking. But there was no trace of mirth in the half-lidded yellow-green eyes.
"A skilled puppeteer the Sith is. Manipulate everyone he does jerking the right strings. Sly and artful he is. The last year's Dark warrior simply one of his marionettes he was."
Taken aback as she was Adi could not keep from thinking that Master Yoda was in a way much like the Sith whose name they had just learned, manipulating the entire Jedi Order into doing what he thought right. But he was just a living being, mortal as everyone else. And he was not safeguarded against mistakes.
Against her will a picture rose before her mind's eye, shaking, revolting – yet true, she was forced to admit: a large chess-board picturing the galaxy's map. Huge galaxy centres shining – tasty morsels: Coruscant and Corellia, Alderaan and Kuat, Ord Mantell, Ithor, Bothawui and sadly-known Naboo, Nal Hutta and Kessel, Mon Calamari, Bespin and even Tatooine. And at two sides of this gargantuan board were sitting Yoda and a figure obscured by darkness far deeper than any cloth could ever provide. They moved pawns, shuffled them playing a gambit of galaxy's fate.
Cold feeling settled at the pit of Adi Gallia's stomach. She, like billions of unsuspecting creatures all over the vast galaxy, was merely a pawn in the hands of not Light and Darkness but of two players defending their beliefs.
She looked at Yoda, but the elderly Master didn't look at her immersed, it seemed, into his own thoughts, tracing invisible patterns on the marble floor with his gimer stick.
"Stronger he is, more powerful."
"Stronger than the whole Jedi Order? Surely that can't be true," Mace spoke up protectively.
Adi thought that apparently his mind was unable to swing away from the well-trodden route. She, on contrary, was now less convinced in the Order's invincibility.
"The Order's strength in unity it is. Yet forget about it we do."
"But I am positive that under direct attack the members of the Order will unite…" Windu was not about to give up.
"If there would be a direct attack," Adi corrected.
"What do you mean?"
"Right Master Gallia is. Smart he is, learning from his own mistakes he does. No second Maul there would be for now. Deplete the Order's strength he will first."
"And how exactly do you think that happens?"
"Lose our best we do. Lost two great Masters and a hopeful Padawan on the brink of knighting to the Sith last year we did."
"It would have been two Padawans if Obi-Wan Kenobi was less resourceful," Adi added. "And who knows how many more."
"Lose numerous Knights and Padawans over this year we also did. Lost Count Dooku to politics we have."
"But the Chosen One…"
~Yeah, right. When you have nothing to say you remember the Chosen One,~ Adi thought disdainfully.
"Little boy he still is. Clouded his future is."
Something in the wise Master's tone made Adi look at him carefully. Was that a trace of fear she detected? Of course not, that could not be. But the solid base of her worldview was now sorely shaken, cracked, and she was ready to accept even the facts she would have thought of as ridiculous only this morning. Still the imperturbable Yoda being afraid was something inconceivable.
"Master Adi," Yoda's gruff voice broke into her thoughts, "a press conference the Chancellor has tomorrow. Go there you must."
"Wait a minute." Windu looked suddenly agitated. "If she goes there would be half the Council on that conference. Not counting about two dozen other Jedi. Are you sure it is necessary?"
"Necessary it is. Trouble I sense. Be careful, Master Adi, you should."
"I will."
Adi stood up from her chair and walked to the door hoping that she looked much more confident and unwavering than she felt.
"May the Force be with you." She heard Yoda call after her before the heavy door shut close behind her back.
*********** **********
This morning on Kamino was as bleak and unwelcoming as any other morning here that crawled slowly and grudgingly through the oppressive veil of never-ceasing rain. Wan light of invisible sun painted dull shadows between smooth walls, lighting, it seemed, only the numerous domes of Tipoca city, leaving deep shade between them. The lowering weeping sky brought melancholy into hearts.
Jango Fett sat sprawled in a large bluish-white chair, watching absentmindedly as crystal-clear intertwining gushes of water streamed down the windowpane. The sight was sorrowful enough to make a sensitive soul cry. But Jango's mind was wandering very far away from hackneyed storm outside.
Several minutes ago he had received a message from Tyranus. The man was demanding he come to Coruscant to the Chancellor's meeting Holonet had been trumpeting about for the whole week already. Jango was to kill a senator whose file Tyranus had sent along. What concerned the bounty hunter however were the words that his employer had said: 'kill him in a tumult.'
And this supposed 'tumult' bothered him. Disorderly upheaval – and that was what Jango supposed Tyranus had meant – was not something usual for this kind of meetings. It implied that some kind of uproar is being prepared and that Tyranus was somehow connected to it all. It was paramount that Fett asked no questions that were not connected directly to his job – certainly no uncomfortable questions. But he was free to think through possibilities and make his own conclusions. And not once had this habit saved his life.
Conclusions he had come to now were not very comforting. Judging from the amount of advertisement this meeting would be extremely well-guarded: Chancellor's security as well as that of every senator, Coruscanti police and most likely Jedi.
Jedi.
Jango let a small smile spread on his face. He had never seen a Jedi before though he had heard much of them. It might be curious.
And much more dangerous.
It might be a challenge.
Involuntarily his thoughts wandered to another curious thing that had recently happened. Here, on Kamino, of all places. These Kaminoans – funny creatures – had apparently received a new order from their mysterious employer. Jango knew their employer was different from his but had no desire to try and find out who it was, incurring unnecessary trouble. The building his residence was located in was virtually upside down today, and generally composed Kaminoans were now unnaturally agitated – as far as they could look agitated at all. He had caught bits and pieces of conversations when he went to ask about his personal clone this morning.
A look of disgust distorted his features for a moment. He hated that word – clone.
As he gathered Kaminoans were requested to make yet another clone, but Jango was not to be the source for this one, which marginally surprised him. There was also something that bothered Kaminoans about the closeness of target date, although how close exactly it was Fett had no idea.
Glancing at a wrist-chrono Jango stood up. It was time to get on the move. Throwing one more look at his room that was intended to become his home yet had not the bounty hunter locked the door and started down the smooth pristine-white hall. A small, barely distinguishable smile kept tugging at the corners of his lips. They had said his personal clone – his copy, his son he never dreamed to have – would be waiting for him upon his return.
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