Um...so...hi? *sheepish smile* Do you guys remember this story? I know it's been a while since I updated - sadly, I got a little writer's block but after a thirty-minute lecture that I gave myself, I sat myself down on my laptop and forced myself to write this. XD

Enjoy!

Chapter Three. The Mark of Ventress

Part one of chapter three

Asajj Ventress was all alone in the dark, cavernous catacombs underneath the grounds of Coruscant. She had been warned that hiding in Coruscant would be an awful idea, though Ventress wasn't afraid. She knew that she was much more powerful than people thought of her. She didn't even look very powerful – Asajj had an odd, sickly, pale complexion and equally pale, blue eyes that were accented with sharp, dark lashes. She didn't have much hair on her head, but that didn't matter – she had covered it up with an odd, cloth helmet (or turban, she supposed) instead. Asajj was thin with sharp, angular edges and frail-looking, but if there was one thing that any of her enemies learned about her, it was that she was not at all frail.

And Asajj Ventress used that to her advantage.

Within a few days, the great city of Coruscant would fall under her hand. Now, as Asajj smiled gleefully at these thoughts, she rubbed water over a small, clay figure in her hands. She pinched it carefully and tugged at the material, concentrating on the smallest details. Every once in a while, Asajj would run it over with water again from the small, raised sink-like structure before her to moisten up the clay, re-molding it into a better shape.

See, the reason why Asajj was looking over this clay object with such great care was because it was the key (or one of her many keys,) to Coruscant's downfall. She had learned this technique from her time with a few old friends years and years ago, who, like her, were Force-sensitive.

But there was a special touch to these dear friends of Asajj's – they had more secrets about the dark ways of using the Force and had filled Asajj with great and powerful information that could make her last for a millennium. Alas, Asajj's friends were not alive now, no thanks to that good-for-nothing king of Coruscant.

The woman twisted her lips into a bitter, angry smile and once pinching the last of the clay figure together, reached for a white, thick, clasped orb. Asajj undid the clasp and murmuring a few, ancient words, placed the figure inside the little ball. She snapped it shut and placed it into her sink.

"Go," Asajj crooned icily. "Do your duty."

There was a glimmer of light inside of the orb and slowly, Asajj made out the form of a pulsing, small object inside. With a smile, she scratched a few letters on the surface of the orb – if this orb was to be found (and more specifically, found in the hands of King Palpatine,) Asajj wanted everyone to know exactly who was responsible for all of the destruction.

Once satisfied with her work, Asajj sat back and allowed the orb to fly down the sink. And fly down the sink, it did – the little ball traveled down the current and the water underneath the catacombs. Strangely enough, it avoided all of the rocks and sharp objects in the water, as if it was protected by some sort of invisible shield. It continued its rapid path until at last, the orb surfaced into a pool of water.

And it wasn't just any pool of water – it was the source of water for the people of Coruscant.

For a few moments, the orb didn't do anything except bob gently up and down in the peaceful water. However, as soon as those few moments were up, a loud, irritating crack-crack-cracking sound ripped through the air. Sadly, there wasn't anyone to see what was happening to the orb, for if someone was there to witness the phenomenon, many lives would have been saved.

But there wasn't anyone there, and so the orb continued to fall apart until finally, a massive, dark brown creature erupted from the orb. It blinked its black, mirthless eyes at its surroundings and, without another sound, it slid back into the water where it could do its work.

•◊•

"Aren't you scared?" Obi-wan asked quietly, watching Qui-Gon crouch down next to a fallen man. It didn't take an expert to say that the man was dead – Obi-wan could see it all over the victim's body. There was a sickening, blue tinge to the poor man's skin and Obi-wan could make out some deep, blue veins on his hands and ankles.

"Of what?" Qui-Gon asked, standing back up to look at the young man.

Obi-wan gave his shoulders a small shrug. "Of catching whatever that is," he replied, pointing at the victim. Qui-Gon gave Obi-wan a wry smile. "I'm the court physician," Qui-Gon replied simply. "It's my job. Mostly, there's nothing to be scared of.

The younger man emitted a sigh and knelt down next to the physician as he rolled the body over. Both men's breaths got caught in their throats as they assessed the damage of the man's body. His face was pale – much paler than what would be considered healthy and had the same, bluish hue added to his skin around the edges of his face. The man's lips were dry and parted, as if he was looking for his last breath. His eyes were white and unseeing and a somewhat crusty substance had taken over the rest of his face.

"You were saying?" Obi-wan asked softly, flicking a glance at Qui-Gon. The older man stood up and cast a furtive look behind his shoulder. "People must not see this," he replied. "They'll panic."

Obi-wan nodded and wordlessly plucked a blanket from one of the clotheslines nearby. He tucked it around the man and stood back up in case there were any bystanders. To his relief, there weren't any – at this time of day, most people would be tending to whatever duties they had, and thankfully, none of the more important jobs were stuck down in this particular part of the city.

As he helped Qui-Gon load the victim into the cart, Obi-wan wondered if life in Coruscant would always have something like this happen.

Probably so.

It didn't seem like there was a moment of peace in that city.

•◊•

Padmé Amidala was always one for routines. She always got up at dawn to get ready to tend to Lady Ahsoka and always made her father a quick sandwich before he would leave. And as much as Padmé enjoyed being Ahsoka's handmaiden, she liked preparing for her father much more.

"Father, your lunch!" She said, hurriedly running to him to hand over the wrapped parcel. As usual, Padmé's father took it with a proud smile. "What's in it?" He asked, taking a quick sniff through the wrapping. Padmé grinned and replied, "It's smoked pigeon, though I'd say there's more smoke than pigeon."

"No matter!" Padmé's father replied cheerfully, tucking the package in his pocket. "You're always good to me, Padmé. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Laughing lightly, Padmé started to gather her cloak in her arms. "I've also done you some watercress soup tonight, so be home early!"

"Let me guess – more water than cress?" The man asked, amused. Padmé giggled and wrapped her arms around her father. "Yes, exactly that." She replied. "I'll see you later!"

Kissing him on the cheek, Padmé picked up a small bunch of purple wildflowers (that she picked herself,) and made her way to the front door. "Have a nice day, Padmé!" Her father called after her and smiling again, Padmé ran down the streets. She was lucky to have her father – her mother died when she was young, too young to remember her, actually. Padmé had an older brother once upon a time as well, though she had no idea what became of him – mostly because he left when he was fifteen years old, leaving a heartbroken father and sister.

Good riddance, though – Padmé was happy just how her family and life was.

And if the day couldn't have gotten any better already (though it was only early morning), Padmé caught sight of a familiar head amongst the crowd of people on the street. She grinned and ran forth to catch up to Qui-Gon and Obi-wan – she was truly glad to befriend the man. Again, Lady Ahsoka was wonderful and a kind, young woman, but there was something rather special about finding a person who seemed to understand your status and your background, yes?

Padmé's eyes immediately landed on the cart between the two men and asked, "What're you doing?"

Obi-wan's head whipped around and he grinned, quickly moving in front of the cart so he'd only be a few steps away from Padmé. "Er…ah, just moving something." He replied, taking a hold of the wood. Padmé frowned and looked back down at the cart, surprised to see that there was an odd outline of a large object. What were Qui-Gon and Obi-wan carrying at this time of day?

"Looks heavy," she commented.

"It's nothing really." Obi-wan said lightly, and placing a hand behind his neck, looked down at the bundle of flowers in Padmé's hands. "Someone got you flowers!" The young man remarked enthusiastically.

Immediately, all thoughts of the mysterious object in the cart flew out of Padmé's mind. She let out a sheepish, embarrassed laugh and looked down at the flowers. "Oh, no," she said with a wince. Padmé looked back up and plucked a flower out of the bunch, lifting it up to Obi-wan. "Would you like one? It's a purple one." Before he could say anything else, Padmé placed it in his hands. "See? Purple suits you."

Obi-wan grinned and twirled the delicate flower between his fingers. Padmé smiled back and quickly went on, "Not that any other colors suit you!"

The young man chuckled under his breath and replied, "Thank you – I think it's just fine. Um…" He looked down at himself and, after a few moments of searching around his garments, Obi-wan tucked the flower in the collar of his shirt and lifted his hands with a beam.

Padmé giggled into her head and nodded in approval. Obi-wan flashed a thumbs-up and, turning back to look at Qui-Gon (who was waiting), said, "I'll see you around, Padmé."

Padmé nodded again, waving her hand. "Bye." She said quietly and exchanging a few more smiles, Obi-wan walked away.

Padmé was still in a good mood when she walked into Lady Ahsoka's room. Ahsoka was, as usual, looking particularly pretty in a blue, embroidered dress and her lips quirked into a cheerful grin. "You look happy!" Ahsoka commented.

The handmaiden simply shrugged in response and handed Ahsoka the flowers. "I picked these for you." She said quickly. Ahsoka's face lit up as she carefully took the flowers from Padmé's hands. "That's so sweet of you!" Ahsoka sighed happily.

Padmé smiled proudly, bowing her head. "Something to cheer you up – I know you haven't been sleeping well lately." She replied, and it was true – Padmé was very aware that Ahsoka was having some troubling nights, though she still couldn't understand how or why. Then again, everyone had nightmares. She figured that Ahsoka's nightmares just came frequently.

However, Ahsoka's smile didn't falter at the mention of her night terrors. "Well, you cheer me up." The young woman said kindly.

Padmé felt herself beaming with pride. "Would you like me to put them in some water for you?" She asked and after receiving a nod from Ahsoka, the handmaiden instantly walked around the room to put the flowers in a vase.

•◊•

"I've never seen anything like this before," was Qui-Gon's comment as he looked over the victim's face with a glass. Obi-wan's brow knitted together in worry. "Do you think it could be some kind of plague?" He asked quietly. To the young man's relief, Qui-Gon shook his head.

However, the comfort was short-lived, for Qui-Gon's next words were just as grave as ever. "I fear this sort of sickness could have never come from nature." The physician murmured. He looked up at Obi-wan. "But who has that kind of power?"

Obi-wan's eyes widened. "You think this was caused by the Force?" He asked with a frown. He looked back down at the man – surely, people weren't capable of doing this with –

"Obi-wan!" A loud voice rang through the air. Obi-wan cringed, knowing the source of the noise all too well. Shooting Qui-Gon an annoyed look, he quickly opened the door to face Anakin, though he was careful to take up the frame so the victim wouldn't be visible.

"I was on my way – sorry that I'm coming late." Obi-wan said with pressed lips, trying to make himself look apologetic. Anakin's voice was flat when he replied, "Don't worry. I'm getting used to it."

There were a few beats of silence as Anakin's eyes lowered to Obi-wan's shirt collar, which still held Padmé flower. Obi-wan blinked and looked down to pluck the flower away. He held it up in the air and said, "Ah – um, Padmé gave it to me."

Anakin didn't look very impressed. He simply rolled his eyes and replied, "Tell Qui-Gon that my father wants to see him now." With that, the prince left. Obi-wan puffed out a breath and whirled around, his mouth open.

"I heard." The physician simply said.

Obi-wan frowned, walking forward. "Why not tell him yourself?" He asked. Qui-Gon cast a weary look at the door and replied, "Because that's the way it is – you're a servant." Obi-wan groaned, shaking his head. "If he knew who I was…" He murmured.

"You'd be a dead servant." Qui-Gon said matter-of-factly.

Obi-wan looked over at the older man, his face set in an indignant expression. Qui-Gon, however, did not waver. He turned around and said, "Get the body covered up – we don't want anyone wandering in here and seeing this."

"I'm not your servant." Obi-wan muttered sullenly, though he grabbed the blanket and started to cover the man up. "No, you're my dogsbody." Qui-Gon replied in the same, official-sounding tone. At Obi-wan's exasperated sigh, he continued, "Go on – hurry up."

•◊•

There was a man with similar symptoms as the victim in Qui-Gon's chambers when the two men reached the scene. Obi-wan felt a chill run up his spine as he looked down at the man – unlike the other victim; he was one of the members of the royal court, judging by the look of his clothes. However, very much like the other victim, this man was very much dead.

King Palpatine was hovering a few feet away from the man, and Anakin was standing just a little way beside his father. "What's happened to him?" He asked slowly.

"I'm not quite sure, sire." Qui-Gon murmured. "This is the second case I've seen today."

"Why didn't you report it to me?" Palpatine asked sharply. Qui-Gon straightened himself and looked at the King in the eye. "I wanted to find the cause."

"And you concluded?" The King asked, his eyes still trained on the dead body on the ground. Qui-Gon sighed, a sure sign that no one would like what he was going to say next. "I don't think we should hurry to conclusions, sire. The scientific process is a long one."

King Palpatine did not find this a satisfying answer. "What are you concealing from me?" He asked in a dangerously quiet voice.

Qui-Gon flicked his eyes at the victim and back at the King. "Sire, I have seen nothing like it. The victims are dying within twenty-four hours and it's spreading fast." He replied steadily.

"But what is the cause?"

Qui-Gon hesitated. Then, clasping his hands in front of himself, he said quietly, "I think I should say that the cause – the most likely cause – is…an evil, twisted usage of the Force. Perhaps accompanied by magic as well."

The King slowly bowed his head and led Anakin to the side. Though the two were still some distance off, Obi-wan could still make out their words.

"You must find who did this." King Palpatine said quietly.

"I will, Father." Anakin replied, flicking a glance at the body.

"Conduct door-to-door searches in the city – in the town. Double the guards on the gates and lend the physician your servant." The King added, nodding a head at Obi-wan and Qui-Gon.

Anakin lifted an eyebrow. "Obi-wan?" He asked incredulously.

"We need Qui-Gon to find a cure." Palpatine hissed. "He needs all the help we can give him. If Qui-Gon is right, believe me – the city will be wiped out. This is the kind of usage of the Force that undermines our authority – challenges all that we had done. If we cannot control this plague, people will turn to the Force to look for a cure. We have to find this user and quickly." With that, the King turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

Obi-wan watched as Anakin bowed his head, though his father was gone. "Yes, Father," he heard the young man murmur and with those words uttered, he, too, made his exit.

•◊•

The next day was chaotic. Obi-wan and Qui-Gon had to watch Anakin and Coruscant soldiers force themselves into the houses and stalls of citizens. There were many arguments and too much shouting for Obi-wan to feel comfortable – and the amount of dead bodies seemed to have multiplied overnight. Grief and anger was heavy in the air when Obi-wan and Qui-Gon were finally allowed to go back and examine what they had found.

However, as the two men were making their way back to the castle, a low, weak groan reached Obi-wan's ears. He froze in his tracks and turned to see a young man (perhaps no older than Obi-wan himself,) reaching out to the two with a pale blue hand. "Qui-Gon?" Obi-wan called over his shoulder as he walked to the man. "Qui-Gon, he's still alive!"

The older man watched Obi-wan with sad eyes. "I'm afraid there's nothing we can do." He murmured. Obi-wan blinked, surprised and looked up to glare at the physician. "We haven't tried!" He argued. Qui-Gon shook his head. "If we don't know what the disease, how can we cure him?" He asked sternly, picking Obi-wan up by the arm.

"With the Force." Obi-wan retorted, though this only made Qui-Gon drag him away with quicker steps. "Have a look around!" The older man whispered. "Anakin and the rest of Coruscant is suspicious of everyone! This is not the time or place to use the Force! Science will lead us to the source of the disease."

•◊•

Obi-wan found himself staring at the glass vial in Qui-Gon's hand, which was filled with a strange, watery, white substance. As the physician started to swish around its contents over a small flame, Obi-wan asked, "What are you doing?"

"Examining the contents of the man's stomach." Qui-Gon replied, staring down at the substance through a glass. Obi-wan frowned. "Will…that tell you who did it?" He asked slowly. "No," the older man said, his eyes still glued to the vial. "But it might tell us how it spread. One thing I do know is that this is probably one of the darkest ways to use the

Obi-wan looked away, shaking his head in bewilderment. "Why would someone use the Force like that?" He asked. Qui-Gon looked over at the younger man. "The Force corrupts. People use it for their own ends." The physician answered quietly. Obi-wan crossed his arms. "But not all of the usages of the Force are bad. I know it isn't."

The older man shook his head. "The Force is neither good nor bad. It's how you use it."

A/N - Well, I had to throw in something about magic in there. (Ventress worked with the Night Sisters, after all...) Regarding the Padmé-giving-flower issue (because I just have to address it), that gesture was totally platonic. Or not. Depends on how you look at it...but this won't be an Obidala, so...

There won't be any femslash here, either - Padmé and Ahsoka are just being the very, very good friends that they are and were in the Clone Wars. For those of you who already knew that I wasn't writing femslash or Obisoka, thank you for understanding.

Reviews are fantastic! I would love to hear your thoughts - constructive criticism is allowed but flames and other insulting comments are not!