Author's note:
Note what Senator Whitesun says to Master Skywalker. Very closely. It's pretty funny if you pick up Luke's misinterpretation.
I'm trying to avoid Ben Skywalker, since I know I couldn't
give the child justice. Just apologizing for shoving him to the sidelines.
Thank you, Falcona SkyWolf, for your review and affirmation. (And thinking. :)
Next chapter comes on this one's review, as always.
Enjoy! :)
Chapter Five
"Master Skywalker to see Senator Whitesun."As he waited for admission, Jedi Master Luke Skywalker studied the Tatooinian senator's secretary. The woman was tall, nearing two meters, and well-built with dark honey skin. Her hair glistened in silky mini braids, the dark brown matching her eyes. A Human, he guessed.
Absentmindedly, he checked her Force energy. Luke blinked, trying again. His Force probe slid off her as if glass!
Her typing uninterrupted, the woman's lips quirked so slightly that he couldn't tell what emotion they demonstrated. "Back off." Her steely tone made no attempt at pleasantries.
"I'm sorry," he apologized, wondering how she did that. "That's an interesting trick. I didn't realize other Jedi groups survived the Yuuzhan Vong."
"Have they?" the secretary asked mildly, reminding him, oddly enough, of Vergere. He'd never trusted the former Jedi of the pre-Empire Order, yet she'd given her life for his niece and nephew. He never had figured out his feelings on that.
"Master Skywalker to see Senator Whitesun," the secretary repeated into her comm, sounding vaguely annoyed.
After waiting a few seconds, she stood. Offering a single sharp nod in Luke's direction, she entered her employer's office.
As the door closed, Luke heard the secretary tongue-lash the room's occupants.
The woman promptly returned, herding an equally tall man ahead of her. His blue eyes flashed with the humor displayed in his cheerful grin. Brown hair fell to his strongly-filled shoulders.
He ducked, still grinning, as she swatted at him. "I was winning!" he protested. "Can't a guy play dejorik with his friend's boss every so often?" The man winked at Luke as he complained.
"Of course," the woman replied tersely. "When that boss is a senator she has duties that interfere with such pleasantries."
"Oh, go have lunch!" the Senator laughed. "Skywalker's been waiting."
The secretary gave the same brief nod she'd earlier presented Luke. Her friend bowed. "Again, Your Highness?"
Whitesun stonily returned his gaze.
"…Ah, M'lady," he corrected.
She smiled tightly as she nodded at them to depart. "Greetings, Skywalker." She led the way into her office. "Please. Have a seat."
After seeing the hovel Tatooine's senator lived in, Luke had been prepared for just about anything. As he'd half expected, the office was like the waiting area; undecorated and efficient. The room itself and its furnishings were plain, more sturdy than rich; yet in spite of it all, Whitesun had somehow managed to arrange her office with understated elegance.
If the plainness of the room did anything, Luke noted, it made the lovely young Senator shine all the more. It occurred to him prominent women could be courtesans, too. Of course, the Senate's new judiciary would quickly put an end to anything of that sort.
Controlling every movement, Whitesun deftly put away her dejorik board, folding up the table and placing it to the side. She smiled professionally as she gracefully sat across from him, one hand laying lightly on the metal desk. "Please forgive the wait, Skywalker. My comradely visitors are few and far between."
Luke smiled in spite of himself. "Even when they're friends with your secretary?"
Her business smile wavered slightly, but stayed in place. "Even then, I'm afraid. So," she swiftly continued. "What is it? I doubt you came to meet my associates."
He drew a breath. "You contacted the Executioner when it met the Yuuzhan Vong fleet." The Jedi Master kept his voice calm, stating fact.
She jumped him to the point. "You wonder if I'm involved with the fleet's sudden retreat." A slight smile lightened her stern official tone. "No."
Luke nodded slowly. He'd expected that answer. He decided to treat it as if he believed her entirely, since he wasn't picking up any deception through the Force. "The attackers' actions are inexplicable. Intelligence believes an insider contacted them." You was assumed. She was clever enough to pick up on that.
Senator Whitesun's face was a study in business focus. She also replied as if objective. "That sounds plausible. You Jedi would detect a Yuuzhan Vong, I hear. The inside informant scenario makes the most sense." So why did you send a transmission to that sector? he wanted to ask, but something held him back.
She frowned thoughtfully. "Could they have been attacked at a major center? Needed to call the fleet for reinforcements?"
"It's possible," the Jedi Master admitted. "But highly unlikely. Rumor of such a fight would doubtless reach somebody."
"Not if the attackers were dead," she pointed out.
"…Yes," he reluctantly agreed, the thought of an entire offensive killed making his stomach churn. "That's true."
Jedi Master Mara Jade Skywalker scowled at her son.
"Ben," she sternly repeated for the umpteenth time.
The five-year-old looked up at her, a model of innocence. "Yes, Mommy?" he asked, his hand still crammed in the bag, crumbs all over his face.
"Who was the fruit bread for?"
"Me."
Mara clenched her fingers and jaw, having to force herself not to knock the darling little brat before her across the room. His being spoiled was her fault, after all.
It didn't help that Naboo fruit bread was the only thing she could cook without ruining.
"No," she growled. "It was for Aunt Leia." She fixed him with one of her glaring stares. Within seconds, Ben was fidgety.
"You," she said in her sweet you're-dead voice, "are staying home."
"Wh—?" Ben began to wail. "I don't wanna!"
"You are," she continued. "In your room. With Goldie." Her son groaned. He didn't like Threepio.
"But I wanna see Aunt Leia!" he howled. "Ow!" Immediately, his yells quieted into whimpers.
Mara felt a little guilty for slapping his bottom, but he needed it. She'd tried every discipline in the book, and spanking was the only one that worked.
Spanking plus other worked even better.
Unfortunately, it had taken most of Ben's five years for her to realize that.
"You're staying here," she repeated, "while Mommy and Daddy go see Aunt Leia. Be good, and you can come next time."
She prodded him into his room. "Behave," she warned, activating Threepio inside the door and locking it.
Mara smiled to herself. Threepio was so much better with children when he couldn't run for help.
"Thought you were going to fix up Veila's ship?"
Dan Stanley didn't even glance at him, still circling the Falcon, eyeing it. "I did."
Lando Calrissian laughed. "You don't mean to tell me you're finished already?"
Stanley looked him straight in the eye, then, face set. "That's what I said, wasn't it?"
"What's the matter?"
"Huh?" the youth grunted. Lando had seen him before the beard and knew he had to be about Tahiri's age.
"You're frustrated."
"Can't find a way on this stupid ship." He kicked it. "I want to take a look at it."
"See if you can fix it, you mean." Stanley shrugged. Lando chuckled, shaking his head. "That things almost forty years old. Nobody can fix that hunk of junk."
Stanley turned to him. "You want to bet on that, Calrissian?"
Lando almost laughed, but stopped on seeing the young man's intense face. He shrugged. Might as well humor the boy. "All right. Fifty credits."
"Five thousand."
He watched the young man closely. "You can't be serious!"
Stanley's face was completely devoid of the common quirk. "Try me."
Lando really hated fleecing kids, but there was nothing he could do about someone who wanted to be swindled out of that much money. "One thousand." A legitimate bet, and the kid should still have legs left after paying it.
Stanley's sharp blue eyes darted over him, and the boy knew he'd get no higher from him. Dan Stanley nodded sharply.
"Deal."
He swiveled on his heel to face the ship, reminding Lando of Imperial stormtroopers.
"Now get me inside. …Please."
Author's Note:
Any guesses, yet, on what's going on?