𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧-[sᴛᴀʀᴡᴀʀs]{𝒐.𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒃𝒊/𝒐𝒎𝒄}Book 1

**Chapter 11:D: Echoes of War**

As the days passed, Dejani's sense of urgency only grew. The closer they got to uncovering Sidious' identity, the more dangerous the situation became. Every lead they followed ended in death, every informant silenced before they could reveal anything of substance. It was as if Sidious was toying with them, watching from the shadows, always one step ahead.

Anakin grew more restless with each passing day, his patience wearing thin. Dejani could see the toll it was taking on him—the sleepless nights, the frustration, the growing anger. It was becoming harder to reach him, to remind him of the importance of caution and control.

But Dejani couldn't blame him. The weight of their mission was enough to break anyone. Sidious wasn't just a threat to the Republic or the Jedi—he was a threat to the galaxy itself, and time was running out to stop him.

It was during one of these tense moments that Dejani received an unexpected visitor.

The knock on his door came late at night, startling him from his thoughts. He had been reviewing the data Vero had given him, trying to piece together the fragments of the conspiracy, when the sound interrupted his work.

Cautiously, he approached the door, his blaster hidden beneath his cloak. When he opened it, he was surprised to see Senator Bail Organa standing in the hallway, his expression grave.

"Bail," Dejani said, stepping aside to let him in. "What brings you here at this hour?"

Bail entered the room, his posture tense, his eyes scanning the surroundings as if expecting danger. He turned to Dejani, his voice low. "We need to talk."

Dejani closed the door behind Bail, concern tightening his chest. Bail was one of the few senators Dejani trusted—a man of integrity in a world of duplicity. His arrival at this late hour, with such an urgent expression, could only mean one thing: something had shifted in the already precarious balance of the Republic.

"What's happened?" Dejani asked, gesturing for Bail to sit.

Bail didn't sit. He paced the room, his face grim, before turning to Dejani. "There are whispers in the Senate," he began, his voice low and guarded, as if the walls themselves might be listening. "Moves are being made behind closed doors. Dangerous ones."

Dejani folded his arms, leaning against the desk, his mind racing. "What kind of moves?"

"Palpatine's power is growing, faster than I expected," Bail said, his brow furrowing. "He's pushing for more emergency powers. His supporters are everywhere now—senators who were once vocal against him have gone silent. Others have openly declared their loyalty. And those of us who still resist..." Bail trailed off, his jaw tightening.

"They're being threatened," Dejani finished for him.

Bail nodded grimly. "Yes. And it's not just political pressure. There have been... disappearances."