Thank you, Athena. To answer your review on Rematch. That story is an outlet for a number of ideas swarming in my head that have finally accumulated into something writable. This story, on contrary, is carefully thought through. I've put much effort into it and I'm not going to forsake it - ever.

Thank you, Alex112. Hope you don't get disappointed.

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

Cold blue eyes watched the creatures assembled in vast and generously decorated hall of the building reserved for senatorial meetings, sliding from one variegated group to another. The piercing gaze sent shudders through those it was trained at, and not one of gathered creatures – senators or their aides, guards or Jedi – had looked around in vague uneasiness, wondering if an open window or not quite shut door had brought in a surge of chill air.

But shadowed icy-blue eyes didn't stay long on all those pawns – some useful at times, others useless. They traveled across the spacious room, seeking their predefined targets.

The eyes stayed briefly on a small group of Jedi councilors. Two women there attracted immediate attention: both stately, with their heads held high, both had wisdom shining in their beautiful eyes. Both draped in those odious Jedi cloaks. Sapphire and hazel eyes. Adi Gallia and Depa Billaba. One of them would die, the other…

Their two companions were a mockery to the beauty of those magnificent women. Two aliens were a caricature pair: tall, ghostly-pale bulb-headed Poof and his miniature pink humanoid companion Piell. But despite their appearances all four were the Jedi High Council members and therefore very dangerous. No, three were dangerous. And the fourth… the fourth would soon fall prey to the unrestrained ambitions and fully become the humble servant of Darth Sidious.

The eyes turned away from them and resumed their search.

Their gaze fell onto a senator whose future had been defined by the straight order that brooked no objections. The senator would die. The Sith Lord had looked through multiple possibilities swarming the intricate net of the Force and chose the way, which would lead to utter elimination of the offending senator. Unless…

There had been an unstable factor. But he had made arrangements that would prevent that factor from intervening. The senator was condemned.

Blue eyes spotted another target – the woman he could not – quite – determine his feelings for. She was an offence, she was a danger. And she was the beauty. He could desire that woman of the Jedi, but this one, Nais Kobierta, was his. And he was not willing to give her up. In spite of her being a threat. She deserved death, yet he could not let go of her. She was open for him, in any way possible. He had seen her soul, knew her most intimate secrets. And yet she was a mystery. And he could not determine her place in the scheme.

This sense of unknown made him angry at times, and that anger supplemented his power. At other times it gave him the unique sense of close yet controlled danger, of adrenalin surging through his veins. That woman was the treasure. A gemstone in his hands.

A sparkle of jealousy colored his eyes a darker shade as he saw his woman – his discovery, his possession – next to that mannered upstart Bail Organa. Did he really think he could touch her like that and get away with it? Sidious forcefully gripped one of the curtains hiding him. ~How dare he?!~ Wintry eyes blazed with fury.

Then abruptly the sinister calmness returned. Organa was doomed. Fett knew his job inside out. There was no use to waste anger on the one who was already dead, even though he was not yet aware of it.

A new person clad in traditional Jedi robes – complimenting him, implausible as it was – entered the room though the door on the other side, and the Dark Lord's attention immediately shifted to this new arrival. A small smile froze on his lips as he watched not even sure why he was smiling. Sidious, hidden in deep shade of heavy drapes watched Obi-Wan Kenobi's every move, caught his every expression. It was the first time the Chancellor looked at him not as at a Jedi Knight but as his son, his flesh and blood. And for the first time in his life as a Sith he was hesitant to approach.

Sidious watched and compared the young man before him to his mother – thin lips curled in a semi-agonized, semi-furious grimace as he remembered Alionna who had once bore the name Palpatine. And the more he compared the more resemblance he saw, wondering how in the stars could he have missed it before.

Was he as blind as those weaklings – Jedi?

Jedi…

His son was a Jedi. But that was remediable.

~Soon, my son. Soon you will learn the whole power of the Force. You will come to me. And your journey to me will start when you receive my present. Soon, very soon… Just a bit more time to make everything ready.~

His eyes were still locked on the young man who remained oblivious to the observation. That pose, slight turning of his head as he spoke… She used to do it exactly the same way.

She…

She of the golden hair that always seemed to shimmer with sunlight. She of the warm laughing eyes that seemed to gaze deep into his soul. She.

Sidious shook his head driving the charming image away. She was no more. And he, that youth who had fallen in love with her so thoughtlessly, was no more either. They were both dead, buried in the half-forgotten memories, forever hidden in the past.

But enough watching.

Deciding it was time to step onto the scene Sidious moved out of the shadows transforming into Palpatine as he went. The transition wasn't physical, it didn't touch his light brown, now mostly gray hair, it didn't touch his ornate clothes, the alteration occurred on a more delicate layer. The expression on his face changed from closed, fear inducing to a more open and benevolent. Frost-covered eyes took on an expression of cordial affability. By the time he reached the nearest lit place the mask was firmly in place hiding the imaginary fangs – the fangs a Sith should have according to Jedi's absurd stories.

Palpatine directed his steps to the small gathering of those Darth Sidious had been watching. They had shifted their position and now stood almost in the middle of the spacious room, obviously having a fierce argument.

Organa was visibly agitated, waving his hands trying to get his point known. Palpatine let his brow quirk in amusement. If only the young senator knew how ridiculously he looked…

The object of Organa's agitation – agitation, tinted in the Force with a fair share of irritation – stood calmly before him. Obi-Wan looked far more controlled, though Sidious could sense his displeasure with Organa through the Force, painting his aura an aggressive orange. He stood with his arms across his chest. The only visible sign of Kenobi's discomfort was the slight twitching of fingers. Organa was oblivious.

Nais stood next to them, being apparently a participant of the argument. But she maintained silence, perhaps waiting for Organa to exhaust himself. Wise woman…

"Now, now, what are these sparks all about?" Palpatine asked in the voice he used for semi-official cases – sweet, slightly amused without any offence.

"Good evening, Chancellor." Organa's voice immediately dropped a few notches, becoming more controlled. "We were simply discussing the nuances of family life."

"Oh, what an interesting topic." ~What an interesting topic indeed.~

Out of the corner of his eye Palpatine caught the look Nais shot him and frowned inwardly. What could that look mean? Did she know something?

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

Count Dooku always contributed his strife for elegance and refined dressing to his noble birth, to the genes he had inherited from his great and patrician ancestors along with his aristocratic visage. And now he couldn't help dressing with all the noble style and taste he possessed though he guessed he was not a welcome sight for many of those present. He was after all a former Jedi, and while some made the stress on the word 'former' – including the snobbish and narrow-minded Council members – others still counted him as a Jedi. The latter were usually those who either openly opposed Jedi – not that the members of the Order acknowledged them – or disliked the Jedi secretly.

As a matter of fact the Count had been pretty much surprised to find out that there were so many in opposition to the Jedi Order. At first he had been rattled and annoyed by any such display of aversion. He had been protective of his second family…

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he remembered one certain member of that family. A little mischievous child he had become a lanky youth with obstinate and strong character, then the imposing Jedi Master… And then he had died.

"Qui-Gon, Qui-Gon, my Padawan. Why did you have to leave so early?"

All traces of smile died away, leaving the stern face. Yes, he had been protective of his family… until one particular mission. Until he looked from the outside. What he had seen shook him to the core and turned everything upside down.

The Order was rotten inside out. The Jedi were merely servants in political games. And he had realized that he could no longer be a part of this system. With the death of his former Padawan one of the strongest binds that tied him to the Order had been broken, and he had found the way to tear all other bonds and relinquish his career as a Jedi Knight.

He no longer wished to be called a Jedi. He wanted no connection to them.

And now he was here trying to find the Sith. Trying to spare those fools. For what else were they if not the fools? They had almost thrown out the Chosen One – their hope. If not for Qui-Gon's apprentice… What was his name? Kenobi. If not for Kenobi the Order would have lost the boy.

Kenobi.

Dooku scowled.

They had let the greenhorn raise the precious child!

"Even Yoda has become a fool, even Yoda." The Count was sure no one heard his softly spoken words. Although someone could start wondering who the elderly man might be talking to.

Dooku definitely didn't like the situation when the absolutely inexperienced Jedi Knight – moreover a typical product of the Jedi system – trained someone as unique as the Chosen One. And the Count would not let this situation to last much longer.

If everything went as planned his men would relive Kenobi of his duty, and unless Yoda has enough presence of mind to give the boy a worthy teacher Dooku would train the Chosen One himself. It would be his last gift to his former apprentice.

And Kenobi… Kenobi was rumored to grieve much for his deceased Master, so why not help the two meet again?

Wiping a small crooked smile from his face the Count turned his thoughts onto other matters. Funny how everything turned out. The mighty Jedi Order had become a pawn in political affairs. And he, Dooku, had become a Sith-hunter as Brimar sometimes called him jokingly.

Brimar.

He was an old friend. Dooku frowned. Perhaps he shouldn't have talked to him that way. But as an old friend he would forgive. Brimar had no pretence in him, no pomposity the Jedi possessed yet he was a professional – the kind of men Dooku valued. And he was as good a friend as Dooku could hope to find.

The Count's gaze glided over the large room – so lost in tiny cozy alcoves and unexpected drapes the room was its shape was undeterminable. The keen gaze of the experienced politician and field operative noted every detail with false negligence. Until it came to rest on a small figure of a little boy who had just entered the blue and purple decorated room.

Dooku needed not much time to recognize the boy, and he swore under his breath.

"What kind of a brainless son of a Sith had brought the Chosen One here?!"

The boy looked slightly lost yet determined to show everyone he knew exactly what he was doing and that he was on his rightful place. Dooku got up and quickly walked over to him.

"Hello, my friend," Dooku's voice was deep and kind, soothing with its rich tinges.

The boy's head shot up, and he looked at the towering man with slight frown.

"Are we acquainted?"

Dooku almost laughed at the exaggerated seriousness of the boy's high-pitched voice but quickly schooled his features.

"No, I don't think so. I'm Count Dooku."

"Anakin Skywalker."

"Nice to meet you, Anakin. I heard much good about you."

"Really?" Was it suspicion Dooku sensed?

"Yes, I did. I am Qui-Gon Jinn's former Master."

"Wow, are you?" Dooku nodded. "Wizard! You are Jedi too?! Could you tell me about him?" All restraints Anakin had put on himself seemed to be blown away at the mentioning of Qui-Gon's name. "Master Obi-Wan doesn't tell me much about Qui-Gon." He added with a hint of sadness and slight complint.

"Why what do you think?" Dooku put a hand on the boy's shoulder a guided him gently to the alcove he had occupied minutes earlier.

"Umm… I don't know. Perhaps he doesn't want to share him with me… Master Obi-Wan didn't like me much at first…"

~Hmm, interesting.~ Dooku thought. ~This might be useful.~

He was about to say something when a powerful explosion shook the building, tearing off the plaster and causing some statues fall to the floor and smash in marble splinters. Dooku quickly put Anakin behind his back, trying to find the safest way out. Commotion grew, then the first tidal wave of panic washed over his senses. Anakin behind him tensed.

"Master Obi-Wan is there somewhere!"

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