Chapter 8

'The Encounters PT 2'

'A Very Bad Day'

'A Compelling Argument'

"So tell me, what's been going on with you?"

"Nothing."

"You've been having trouble fitting in it seems."

"I'm fine. I'm just busy."

Dean Kingsfield looks at Dantius from across his desk. Dantius looks like a swaddled child in the long puffy down coat that he refuses to take off. His cashmere lined nuna leather gloves stick out of his left pocket. He extends his legs, one foot crossed over the other. His ankle-high insulated suede boots appear unscuffed by the snow or muddy puddles. His boots were the only things protecting him from frostbite during that night he was locked outside the old chapel at the cloisters. His posture is a clear indication that he does not want to be here.

Kingsfield scratches his head then folds his hands on the desk blotter. He decides that this student has bigger issues. The dean leans slightly forward on his desk.

"Dantius, I am here to help you. Hazing is strictly forbidden at Theed University. As dean of this institution, I am bound by our charter to maintain order and to protect the students studying here. It is my responsibility to find those responsible and deal with them accordingly."

"I have no problem with the fraternities."

"How did you get those bruises?" I have a report right here stating that you returned to your dormitory in this condition….very late I might add."

"I took a walk and lost track of time."

Dean Kingsfield raises his feathery white eyebrows as he glances at the data on the blotter. The data has comments by all of his professors and includes his grades. There is a sarcastic tone to the dean's voice as he responds to the answer.

"Hummm…lost track of time…I see…and those scratches are from…" He glances at Dantius above the rim of his frameless spectacles as he awaits an answer.

"I took a shortcut through the woods near the Solleu River. I walked into a thicket."

Dean Kingsfield listens as Dantius rambles on telling one tall tale after another much to the dean's amazement. It is clear that he does not believe the excuses coming out of the boy's mouth. If he were not so amused by this string of lies Dantius is telling, he would be insulted. Dantius clearly underestimates the intelligence of the esteemed dean and former law professor. Dantius is full of delusions that he is the only intelligent person in the room. It is a trait, unfortunately, that he keeps for the rest of his life.

Professor Kingsfield speaks again in his calm but firm voice.

"I must tell you again, Mr. Palpatine, that seeing you in such a state does not bode well for Theed University's reputation as a safe environment for our students whether it is due to your clumsiness or not. Where is this 'thicket' so we may send someone to clear it?" He waits. Dantius is not sure if the man is joking or dead serious. There is no response. Kingsfield continues. "You have nothing to say? Young man, I am trying to help you." He is now losing patience with Dantius. "Sit up straight when you are in my office."

There is more silence. Dantius obliges albeit grudgingly. He is not talking. Dean Kingsfield sighs and rubs his forehead. Dantius is not sure if it is from exasperation or sheer boredom. Kingsfield presses a button and the data tablet shuts down. He pulls away from the desk.

"Very well." The dean reaches in his suit pocket beneath his robe and pulls out a coin. He hands it to Dantius. "You leave me no choice. Take this centime and call your parents. Tell them you have failed as a son. You can no longer handle life as a student at this university."

"No! I'm fine…really. I want to go now."

"Very well. You may leave. This is not going to be over just because you decided to walk out."

At once, Dantius springs from the chair and lets himself out of the office. He storms pass the secretary and grabs his rucksack before disappearing out the door. Kingsfield steps out of his office.

"Peculiar young man. Get his parents on the phone."

Mrs. Brooks dumps a completed stack of envelopes into a mail bin then picks up the telephone. Kingsfield retreats into his office.

Dantius is huffing and puffing his way across campus. Anger is building up inside him. He starts to slow his pace once he is far enough away from the dean's office. He looks up to the sky. The 'lubdub' sound is raging in his chest again.

His escape from the dean's office was a relief but a new and bad feeling tells him this day is about to get worse. The 'ghosts' of his past' will soon confront him. A sense of dread consumes him. The color from his already pale face disappears. The expression on his face is telling. He hears a voice that he has not heard for a long time.

"Dantius! Dantius!"

The voice pursues him. A set of light but determined footsteps hurry to catch up with him. Dantius is petrified as he hears someone gasping for air. The footsteps speed up behind him the faster he walks. He curses under his breath.

The sweet scent of springtime Sullustan cherry blossoms weave through the cold air. His 'stalker' is now walking beside him. It is Vernu. Her beautiful hair moves softly with the breeze. She speaks even though he remains silent.

"Dantius! Stop walking…slow down." She gradually catches up with him. "Why did you make me run after you like that? I could swear you were trying to avoid me. I've been trying to contact you for weeks. You've never returned my calls."

"I've been busy. It's exam time you know."

"Yes, but everyone stops for a few minutes to connect with the outside world, Dantius. Dantius? Look at me!"

He is determined to keep his head turned away from her but her strong will triumphs. She grabs his arm. What she sees alarms her and causes her to take a step backwards. Her delicate alabaster hand covers her open mouth. Her soft delicate voice causes him discomfort. He is in no mood to deal with her but she presses him.

"Dantius, what happened?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me! Who did this to you?"

"It is none of your concern."

"Dantius, how can you say this? There are people who care about you…I care. I thought we had something."

"I don't need anyone to care for me. I can take care of myself."

"Why can't you tell me what's happening with you?"

"You need to leave."

"But I came here to see you. I thought…"

"You thought wrong. This ridiculous contrived arrangement by our parents is a waste of time. I don't want you around. Don't you get it? So stop following me!"

"Why are you saying such hateful things?"

"Listen, you're a nice enough person. You have a positive outlook on things. That's great if the world is perfect but it's not. You need to wake up. The galaxy is grave danger. A revolution is coming. Those who aren't prepared will fall by the wayside."

"What's come over you? You're talking crazy. There's no revolution."

"Oh yes? You'll see…when it's too late."

Vernu takes a step back. She sees a confused and bitter side of Dantius that she has never seen before. A darkness seems to have come over him. Perhaps he is suffering from an emotional breakdown due to his course load. Whatever brought about this meltdown, it indicates a need for help. Vernu reaches over to touch his face. Dantius turns away.

"Don't touch me. Leave, and don't come back. I don't want you here."

Tears well up in Vernu's eyes but she refuses to let him see her cry. Dantius leaves her alone on the walkway. His steps quicken so he is out of earshot if she should start to cry. He knows he is going to get an earful about this later.

He pays a brief visit to the Philosophy department to the lone office at the end of the corridor. Plagueis hands him something then sends him on his way.

'The Homecoming'

His parents summon him home the following weekend, just a few days early before the Naboo Royal Holiday. The house is quiet. It is as if someone had died. His mother sees him standing in the foyer. She has a worried expression on her face. Before she has a chance to speak, the elder Palpatine stands in the hallway outside of his study. He waits silently and points to the door. Dantius reluctantly follows. The heavy wooden door closes behind them. The elder Palpatine finally speaks.

"Sit. Explain yourself. What exactly is going on? And don't lie to me."

"I'm fine."

"Vernu's not. The poor girl is devastated. Her parents are furious. Your mother is embarrassed. She could barely look them in the eye earlier this week when they met her for tea. I knew something like this would happen. I had hoped you would have improved by staying on campus and getting some sort of social life. I was mistaken. What you did to that dear girl is reprehensible. You're nothing but a screw up! "

"Well, I didn't make a promise to marry her. You expected me to make good on a pact you made with her parents when we were children?"

"Don't speak to me in that tone, boy!"

Dantius feels the anger in his father's voice. He truly believes that his father, who has never hit him, is about to this time. He waits for the impact that never happens. Something else happens. Dantius seems genuinely remorseful…for a moment.

"I'm sorry."

His father tries to see deep inside his son. This bizarre behaviour puzzles him. He speaks with worry in his voice.

"And what is this about you getting hurt? Yes, I got a call from the dean's office. He tells me you've been getting into some altercations but you refuse to say who is responsible."

"It's nothing."

"Nothing? Look at yourself! You're a mess! It looks as if a plasma ball hit you!"

"I'm fine!"

"That's just great. You're not talking and the fraternities are claiming innocence. The school is watching them."

In as much as Dantius would love to see those cocky frat boys get their comeuppance for ridiculing him and the others for merely ignoring him, it would make him look like a pathetic coward who cannot stand up for himself. He refuses to appear weak

"I was tired and I fell down a flight of steps rushing to class. I dropped my books. Papers went everywhere."

"Any witnesses? That's not the story I heard."

"I'm alright. I was late for class. Of course there were no witnesses."

"Well, I hope you're proud of yourself. You've made a lot of people unhappy and others concerned."

"It wasn't my intention." He hangs his head appearing somewhat contrite.

"Well, you have plenty of apologizing to do."

His act of contrition wanes with a defensive retort.

"Why? I haven't done anything wrong!"

Emotions escalate again. The senior Palpatine displays a rarely seen rage. This man, who typically doles out a measured level of fairness with calm and forethought, is bothered by his son's tone. It sets him off. The elder Palpatine grabs his son by the collar then shoves him against the bookcase of rare books. It is done with such force that the neatly stacked literature is jostled from their upright position. Dantius is surprised too. Nevertheless, here he is, dangling like a rag doll. This is the second time he has been handled this way since his clandestine meeting across town.

Dantius' face turns from alabaster to red. He hears the words coming from the old man's mouth. "Be a man! Take responsibility for your actions. The face is angry and cold. The sound of the voice sets Dantius into a panic. It is not his father's kind face he sees, but the elongated sallow face of his Muun master obscured by that hood. A tear rolls down his cheek. As he feels himself being lowered to the floor, he sees his father's face once more. What sort of mind trick is this? Dantius does not feel control of himself. Is he hallucinating?

Mr. Palpatine's face is full of empathy for his son. Dantius looks terrified. Mr. Palpatine has always been hard on his son but he has never given the boy cause to fear him. He is praying that his son's obvious emotional upheaval can be resolved by a respite at a Naboo wellness facility. He takes his troubled boy in an embrace as Dantius sobs uncontrollably and without knowing why. His mother waits anxiously outside the study holding his rucksack as if holding her son. Mr. Palpatine stokes his son's hair as he sobs. He whispers.

"Boy, what sort of trouble are you in?"

Another voice Dantius hears is clearer however as it tries to drown out what his father is saying. "All I can do is to make your father irrelevant."

Dantius slowly slips his hand into his pocket. When his hand reappears, he is holding a dagger. He slowly brings his arm around his father's back. The red handled dagger in firmly in his grip. Suddenly, the last bit of conscience comes over him. He cannot carry out what he had to do as his clandestine master has encouraged him to do – 'Make his father irrelevant.' Without thinking, the dagger disappears back inside his pocket.

The weekend back at home brings forth long forgotten memories of frivolous and indulgent happy times. After the meeting with his father, Dantius winds up in the loving arms of his mother. She wants to forget all of the turmoil for now. She has her son home. She runs her delicate fingers through his soft, fine hair. Later he will sleep in his old bed. There are no bad dreams in this bed. The eider down featherbed is warm and guarantees a restful sleep. There are no bad images, no long winding cobblestone streets on a dark desolate night. He forgets about the eerie alleyways and the cold cloistered courtyard. Mornings are winsome with the fresh scent of evergreen and winter freesia. Birds chirp a happy song outside his bedroom window. The light dusting of snow settles in the corners of the glass and on the shutters. It is a serene moment.

He awakens in the morning to the intoxicating smell of hot breakfast sugar rolls. He took this daily morning treat for granted all his young life. His mother did this one thing well. These fluffy baked Naboo sugar rolls, some plain, lathered with sweet cream butter, and some oozing with warm muja fruit are a hit with the bridge games and charity events and more welcome than the annual monetary donation made in the Palpatine family name. Dantius knew he was home when he bites into this sweet delicacy and sips a cup of hot cocoa. Somehow, he is happy. He seems to be at peace.

He does not mind listening to his mother and sister discusses plans for his sister's impending nuptials. The thought of seeing a therapist twice weekly is far from his thoughts right now. He has the business card in his rucksack. His father has already made the first appointment for him. His mother does not want to think about it either. She finds comfort in denial and so does Dantius. The haunting voice of his master is gone. He enjoys this holiday time with his family as he hides from an inevitable fate.

It is not long after his return to campus, that his 'other' life comes calling to him. He visits the student-dining hall for the breakfast. His morning begins as usual during his walk across campus under the gray wintry sky. Students and faculty make their way to the various buildings on campus.

Dantius walks into the dining hall. He notices a group of students reading the campus news on the plasma screen. The headline reads, 'Trade Federation Turmoil.' Not too far away, there is a long folding table manned by several students urging classmates to sign a data screen petition. 'Protect Workers from Unfair Trade Federation,' 'Don't Trust the Trade Federation,' 'The Future Depends On Us!'

Dantius was never active in political or social issues. He will soon have a few reasons to do so now. He thought this could possibly help when he makes his first visit with the university-recommended psychotherapist. This was the agreement between his parents and the dean's office if he is to remain at the university.

A crowd forms, blocking the entrance to the food tray kiosk. There are several voices speaking loud enough drown out the computer activated 'talking' menu board. Dantius focuses on the long folding table. He is curious what these radical voices have to say. One of the students sees Dantius and speaks to him. He is tall and thin with curly light brown hair with streaks of blond. He is wearing a blue pullover and a pair of worn but insulated military surplus pants. His black boots are from the military surplus too. Theed Palace issue discontinued strap boots—also from the military surplus. He holds a stylus and a data clipboard. "Speak out against exploitation. Say 'No' to Trade Federation Interference.' Sign the petition now!" He offers the clipboard to Dantius.

"Here you go bro."

At first, Dantius is impressed that someone is speaking to him about an obviously important issue such as this. Someone seems to recognize him as an empathetic soul. They even refer to him as 'Bro.' Dantius is looking but he is not absorbing anything this radical student is saying. After playing the part of a captive audience member, Dantius smiles politely, not entirely convinced of the petitioner's argument about how the Trade Federation will ruin intergalactic commerce.

"Oooh…I don't know…" He rolls the stylus between his fingers and thumb. Can I keep the stylus?"

The student is a bit taken aback. He rolls his eyes then sighs, exasperated that he has just wasted his greatest speech on someone who just stopped by to get a freebie.

"Sure."

Just as Dantius is about to pocket the stylus, his eyes become fixed on a true gift sent from the heavens. The voice is compelling and intoxicating.

"Is anyone outraged by the Trade Federation practices as I am? Then let your voices be heard!"

A timid sounding Dantius Palpatine raises his hand.

"I am."