The Dragon in the Dying Star

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨'𝐚𝐝

Chapter X: The Mando'ad

Night blanketed the vast cityscape of Coruscant, cloaking the endless horizon of gleaming spires in deep velvet layers. Lights blazed from windows, bright pinpricks against the black. As far as the eye could see, as far as a being could travel the city's buildings jutted from the planet's surface in needles of steel alloy and reflective glass. Long ago, the city had consumed the planet with its bulk, and now there was only the city, the center of the galaxy, the heartbeat of the Republic's rule.

Dejah Thoris checked the adjoining chambers of the Senator's corridor. She was focused on her task but her own mind sought to distract her. She was replaying again the image of Anakin, the look he had given her. She heard his words again, "...grown more beautiful," and though Dejah was undeniably that, they were not words she was used to hearing.

When she was only a child, she had been inducted into the Jedi Order, quickly rising to powerful and influential positions. Most of those she had come into contact with had been concerned with her role in the Order and nothing more. Certainly not with her beauty, or, for that matter, with any true personal feelings for her. As a Jedi Knight, Dejah was well aware that she was attractive to others in ways deeper than physical attraction, in ways deeper than any emotional bond.

Or perhaps not deeper than the latter, she told herself, for she could not deny the intensity in Anakin's eyes as he had looked at her.

But what did it mean?

She saw him again, in her thoughts. And clearly. Her mental eye roamed over his lean and strong frame, over his face, tight with the intensity that she had always admired, and yet with eyes sparkling with joy, with mischief, with...

With longing?

That thought stopped her. She shook such a sentiment away. She recalled Anakin's youthful attachment for her and left it at that, banishing the thoughts as quickly as they had come.

She ventured finally to Padme's chambers when suddenly Anakin Skywalker appeared from the main room. The Padawan learner's entrance was not unexpected; somehow, Dejah had known that he would come to speak with her as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

"Hello," he said, and it seemed as if he could hardly draw his breath.

She looked past him to the main room. "Is everything all right?"

Anakin stuttered over a response. "Oh yes," he finally managed to say. "Master Obi-Wan has gone to the lower levels to check on Captain Typho's security measures, but all seems quiet."

Dejah observed him, mildly amused. "You sound disappointed."

Anakin gave an embarrassed laugh.

"You don't enjoy this," Dejah remarked.

"There is nowhere else in all the galaxy I'd rather be," Anakin blurted. He'd said the words with a conviction she chose to overlook.

"But this inertia..." she reasoned, and Anakin nodded as he caught on.

"We should be more aggressive in our search for the assassin," he insisted, knowing her to feel the same. "To sit back and wait is to invite disaster."

"Your Master does not agree," Dejah said instead. He grew frustrated she would not openly admit she agreed with him. He knew her. She was one for action. Why else had she walked away from her seat on the Council ten years ago to travel the galaxy as he himself so wished.

"Master Kenobi is bound by the letter of the orders," Anakin explained. "He won't take a chance on doing anything that isn't explicitly asked of him by the Jedi Council."