| abstract
| - “I don’t know how you come to possess such information, Senator,” Dooku said severely, looking down his long nose at Nalanda, “but I do resent the fact that you have sent Jedi spies to systems allied to us in order to retrieve it.” Nalanda wanted to respond as such a comment deserved when he better judgement held her back. It’s just what he wants, she told herself. “The Jedi you speak of was investigating the perpetrators of a series of attempts on my life,” Nalanda replied evenly. “And as far as I am aware Geonosis is a neutral world, or that was how it appeared to be at the time. Any fault for his capture is not to blame on myself or the Republic but on you, Count.” There it was, the challenge thrown openly on the table to show the Separatists she was taking no nonsense from them. The flourish and bedazzlement that had followed Count Dooku’s entrance earlier had entirely dissipated. The room Kanesh had ushered them all into gave the impression of being dark and foreboding. It was circular, with a round table in the centre that had its middle removed. Surrounding the table were hard-backed chairs of varying hues made of the skeleton of some poor animal that Nalanda preferred not to think about. There was very little light, which was surprising given the number of lights in the room. In addition to the large light overhead there were lights along the walls and the table was under-lit. Perhaps, Nalanda had mused as she took her seat, the darkness somehow absorbs the light. It had not been a comforting thought. Circling above the conference room was a galley with an open balcony, extending from this was a wide platform where there were various statues of Brolg heroes, or so Kanesh claimed. Yet as her remark permeated around the table, Nalanda let herself smile, inviting Dooku to take up the gauntlet she had thrown down. He didn’t, instead Dooku chuckled lightly and looked at her with an amused smile. “I can see that we are going to have an interesting time here, Senator,” the former Jedi said. “But we are not here to air past grievances or even present ones. Here we will decide the best course of action for all.” “You may represent the interests of your small group, Count,” Bail Organa countered, “but we speak for the millions upon millions of beings in the Republic. War is not a course of action we are prepared to consider.” “Are you not a ‘special interest group’ within the Republic?” Dooku replied coolly. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Lexi Dio said. “But need we explain whom or what we represent? We have come before you to prevent a war that can devastate us all if it takes place.” “War can sometimes be necessary,” Dooku intoned, folding his hands on the table. “Please, we must face facts, the Republic has outgrown itself and as a galaxy we must move on.” “That sort of talk, Count, normally pre-empts succession,” Bail warned. “Perhaps that is the answer,” Dooku replied, opening his hands in submission. “The Republic is beyond repair, if we can create a better society outside it then so be it.” “I can’t believe what I am hearing,” Nalanda said to Bail, he had been watching the darkening sky until he noticed her distress. “Hey,” he sat next to her on the settee, “don’t talk that way; you know how much we have to dig through the slag to get to the truth.” “And if there is nothing but slag?” Nalanda asked, she turned away so he wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes. The talks that day had confirmed her worst fears: they weren't going to get anywhere here. “Perhaps Count Dooku is right,” she murmured, “perhaps he has been right all along and I've just been too blind to see it.” “We can’t doubt ourselves and we can’t doubt our capabilities,” Bail said softly. “Not now, not when it matter so much.” “I’m not doubting myself,” she looked back at him with wounded eyes, “it’s everything else I'm worried about.” Bail didn’t say anything, he merely took her hand in his and waited until she was ready to speak again. Padmé’s eyes snapped open, she had been meditating but the sensation she had felt through the Force was unmistakable. A disturbance, a deep reverberation in the dark side was near by. But she couldn’t leave the senator…or could she? “Good night, Master Naberrie.” Bail Organa nodded to her as he left Nalanda’s rooms rather late. “Wait, Senator Organa,” Padmé tried to find the right words to make him understand, she knew he could be trusted. “I…I just received word that there is something I need to check on and I may be away for some time. Could you…” “Of course, it would be a pleasure,” Bail replied with a smile. “I brought extra security, I had a feeling I might be needing them.” “Thank you,” Padmé said, then pulling the cowl of her red cloak forward she went off into the shadows.
|
![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)