With the recent news of Heath Ledger's death, I found myself thinking of one of his movies that most critics barely paid attention to. I am talking of the 2002 action adventure film called, "THE FOUR FEATHERS".
Based upon A.E.W. Mason's novel, the story is about British Army officer, Harry Feversham, who resigns his commission from his regiment just prior to his regiment being dispatched to Egyptian-ruled Sudan to rescue the British general Charles "Chinese" Gordon (who was being besieged in Khartoum by Islamic rebels of The Mahdi). After given four white feathers (symbols of cowardice) by three of his fellow officers and his fiance, Feversham goes to the Sudan as a civilian to redeem himself. This version, with Ledger in the role of Harry Feversham, is the seventh version of the film:
"THE FOUR FEATHERS" Photo Gallery
”THERE WILL BE BLOOD” Review
I really do not know what to say about Paul Thomas Anderson’s movie, ”THERE WILL BE BLOOD”. This movie, based upon Upton Sinclair’s 1927 novel ”Oil!”, is about a ruthless oilman in California between 1898 and 1927. I cannot deny that this is basically an excellent film and that Daniel Day-Lewis gave one of the best performances of career. I cannot also deny that ”THERE WILL BE BLOOD” was basically well written, produced and directed by director Anderson. I basically enjoyed it very much and consider it to be one of the better films released this year. But for some reason, I cannot muster any real passion for it.
I must admit that there were times that I found the movie fascinating. One has to thank leading Daniel Day-Lewis’ riveting performance maintaining my interest. He portrayed the ruthless Daniel Plainview, a hard-working silver prospector who discovered an oil well, while prospecting for silver. On the very day he discovers his first oil well, one of his employees die in an accident and Plainview adopts the dead man’s infant son. By 1911, he is one of the most successful oil men in California. In order to convince many farmers and other small landowners to drill on their land, he uses his adoptive son, whom he names H.W. (Dillon Freasier), as his "partner" to project his status as a family man and a family businessman. Plainview is approached by a young man named Paul Sunday (Paul Dano) who sells Plainview an oil lead located on his family's property in Little Boston, California. Plainview and H.W. travel to Little Boston, and, pretending to be hunting quail, scout out the Sunday property and discover a good amount of seepage oil. Plainview attempts to buy the property without notifying Paul's father Abel (David Willis) of the oil, but Paul's twin brother, Eli (again Paul Dano), knows of the oil and raises the price to $10,000, the bulk of which he intends to put into the founding of his own Church. Plainview pays him $5000 up front and promises the other $5000 as a donation to the church. In order to ensure the monopoly on the Little Boston oil, Plainview buys the "ranches" of a number of the surrounding neighbors, with the exception of one property, which the owner, a Mr. Bandy (Hans Howes), was hesitant to sell.As I had earlier stated, the heart and soul of ”THERE WILL BE BLOOD” for me was Daniel Day-Lewis. His Daniel Plainview has to be one of the most fascinating characters in movie history. Certainly not in literary history, since Plainview was a character created for the screen by Anderson. I really do not know how to describe him. He seemed to be the epitome of those ruthless tycoons of the late 19th century and early 20th century. He is certainly not typical. Utilizing a John Huston accent, Day-Lewis captured all of the malevolence , cunning and emotional perversity of Plainview, as he draws the audience into the character’s unchecked greed for wealth and power. The ironic thing is that Plainview does not seem to care for the trappings of wealth. One example of this is his habit of sleeping on the floor, even when a comfortable bed is available. And even in that exclusive mansion he has built by the end of the film, he sleeps on the floor inside the mansion’s bowling alley. But the money and power, he definitely needs. And he needs an audience to witness his financial triumphs, judging how he had temporarily abandoned H.W. when the latter first lost his hearing in an accident and how he took under his wings, a man claiming to be a long lost brother named Henry Brands (Kevin J. O’Connor). Day-Lewis has already won a Golden Globe for Best Actor in a Drama for his performance. And he is a front-runner for the Best Actor Oscar. If he does win the award on February 24th, I will not be surprised.
It is a shame that the Golden Globes and the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Science could not acknowledge Paul Dano for his performances as the twin brothers – Paul and Eli Sunday, and Dillon Freasier as the young H.W. Plainview. Dano, who had last impressed critics with his supporting role in ”LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE”, had studied evangelism for his role as the Sunday twins. The Paul Sunday character made a brief appearance near the beginning of the story, but Dano’s performance as the other twin Eli really impressed me. Dano’s performance revealed the malevolence and greed for wealth and power behind Eli’s meek and religious demeanor – traits that seemed to match Plainview’s. Anderson could not find a child actor to portray Plainview’s adoptive son, H.W., so he had hired the son of a Texas state trooper who had pulled over the movie’s casting agent for speeding. Like Dakota Blue Richards in ”THE GOLDEN COMPASS”, Dillon Freasier turned out to be find. Especially for Anderson and the movie. With very few words, the young actor managed to convey all of his character’s array of emotions experienced in the film – from his intelligence and warmth, to his suspicions and resentment of Plainview’s relationship with Henry Brands.
Most of ”THERE WILL BE BLOOD” seemed to be set during 1911. Sinclair’s novel seemed to be a condemnation of the oil industry itself and a response to the infamous Teapot Dome Scandal during the Warren G. Harding administration. Anderson does condemn the oil industry in California, especially in his revelation of how many small landowners were cheated out of millions of dollars through the manipulations of oil companies and tycoons. But for me, ”THERE WILL BE BLOOD” seemed more like a character study than an expose on a major industry. But I must admit that it is a first-class movie and probably one of the better ones of 2007. Anderson paced the movie very well, making one ALMOST forget that this movie is fifteen minutes short of three hours. With actors like Day-Lewis, Dano, Freasier, Ciarán Hinds and Kevin J. O’Connor, Anderson managed to make the most of a first-class cast. Well, almost. More on that later. Does it deserve to win the Best Picture Oscar? Quite frankly, I am not sure. As excellent as the movie is . . . as first-rate is Day-Lewis’ performance, it did not exactly rock my boat. Quite frankly, I do have a few problems with the film.
As I had stated earlier, ”THERE WILL BE BLOOD” seemed more like a character study, instead of an expose. And because of that, I feel that it could have been at least a half hour or forty-five minutes shorter. When I said that Anderson had almost made me forget that this movie was nearly three hours long, I was serious. He ALMOST made me forget about the film’s running time. Until the story shifted to 1927. Frankly, I do not see why Anderson had even bothered. Following the time shift, the movie lost its epic scope. Even Plainview’s personality seemed to have lost some of its steam . . . until his last encounter with Eli Sunday. Speaking of those two, I believe that the make-up artist may have done both Day-Lewis and Dano a bit of a disservice. Despite the fifteen to sixteen year difference between the two time shifts, I never really got the impression that either Plainview or Sunday had aged at all. There was barely a strand of gray in Day-Lewis’ hair and Dano still looked like a young man in his early twenties, despite the fact that Eli Sunday must have been at least in his mid-to-late thirties during this period. But the one thing I truly disliked about the film was its abrupt ending. One can say that the movie ended with the final confrontation between the two adversaries. But there is this feeling in my gut that Anderson had ended the movie in the middle of the story’s finale. He probably had a reason for ending it in this manner. Whatever reason he had, it has eluded me.
Despite some of my disenchantment with ”THERE WILL BE BLOOD”, I must admit that it is overall, an excellent film. It may not have rocked my boat, but I did find it fascinating. And if you can deal with a two hour and forty-five minute study about a fictional character, then I suggest that you go see the movie.
"RETURN WITH A VENGEANCE"
CHAPTER 8
The moment Cole's guest disappeared, the half-demon gave Olivia a hard stare. "Okay, Miss McNeill, what in the hell just happened?"
"What do you mean?" Green eyes grew wide with innocence.
Cole continued, "Suz . . . uh, Mrs. Maxwell. She practically ran out of here, with her tail tucked between her legs. What were you two talking about?"
Olivia coolly replied, "Nothing. I merely asked her a . . . few questions. About what she did for a living. Where she came from."
"In other words, being a very suspicious cop, you couldn't help but interrogate her." Cole waved his hand over the spilled brandy and it disappeared. "What did you learn?"
Taking a deep breath, Olivia answered, "Well, that she's from Vancouver. Until I reminded her that she spoke with an American accent."
Cole grunted. "And?"
"Then she claimed that she originally came from Portland, Oregon." Olivia paused dramatically. "Awfully close to Seattle, isn't it?"
Shaking his head, Cole gave his neighbor an admiring look. "You know, it's a good thing that the Triad or the Source had never sent me after you. Hell, going against your parents, twenty-five years ago, was bad enough."
Olivia plopped down on the sofa. Then she reached inside her jeans pocket and retrieved a folded slip of paper. She handed it to Cole. "Look familiar?"
Cole found himself staring at a drawing of a very familiar face. "Yeah. Isn't this the warlock I had changed into a pebble outside the Tower Bay warehouse, last month?"
"Oh, that's him alright. Cecile had a vision of him killing some janitor. Whose body was found, this morning. The janitor used to work at the Hopkins Building on Powell."
"Why would a Crozat warlock kill this . . . what's his name?"
Olivia answered, "Pablo Alvarez. Darryl and I checked his background. An immigrant from El Salvador, who came to this country, nearly twenty years ago. I also checked with a few fellow witches. As far as anyone knows, he's mortal." She paused. A calculated gleam lit up her eyes. "Take a closer look at the drawing. Does he remind you of anyone?"
Cole sat down on the sofa and stared at the drawing. Dark hair and eyes. High cheekbones. Narrow chin. Then a grim smile appeared on his face, as he stared at Olivia. "Of course! Suzanne. So, she's a Crozat, after all."
"I had the same thought when I first saw her," Olivia added.
"The question is . . . what does want with me?" Cole frowned at Olivia. "I understand she might want revenge for the destruction of her coven. But what makes her think she can harm me?"
Olivia shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe she has some plan to use you to get to us. Or perhaps . . ." A wicked smile stretched her mouth. "Perhaps she had something else in mind. I noticed that Mrs. Maxwell seemed rather . . . frustrated. Did I disturb something?"
"Nothing happened between us . . . at least not yet," Cole retorted good naturally. "Besides, what's wrong with a little seduction? I had hoped to find out what she's up to."
Olivia's eyes narrowed playfully. "You know, I have the oddest feeling that I may have interrupted the possibility of some very serious sex. Of course, Mrs. Maxwell, or Ms. Crozat doesn't exactly strike me as your type." Olivia stood up and started toward the door.
"I don't recall ever having a type," Cole retorted with a smirk. Then his eyes focused on Olivia's hand and noticed that the bottle of parsley was missing. "Uh, what happened to the parsley I gave you?"
Green eyes blinked. "What?" Olivia glanced at her empty hands and shrugged. "Oh. I guess I forgot about it."
"Really? I'm beginning to think that you didn't really need any parsley in the first place."
Olivia shot Cole a cool stare. "Of course I did. What makes you think otherwise?"
"I don't know. Maybe you were interested in getting a glimpse of Suzanne Maxwell."
Disbelief now glimmered in the witch's green eyes. "Wait a minute! Are you insinuating that I'm jealous?"
Cole responded with a shrug. "Hey, you said it, not me."
Olivia rolled her eyes. "You know what, Cole? Blow me!" She opened the door and stalked out of the penthouse.
"It would be my pleasure," Cole murmured under his breath, as his eyes examined the shapely backside of his neighbor.
* * * *
Phoebe, Paige and Leo tramped into the kitchen and found Piper preparing breakfast. "Honey, what are you doing?" Phoebe demanded. "Paige and I can fix breakfast. You shouldn't be on your feet, now that your pregnancy is advancing."
"And have all of us suffer from an upset stomach? No thanks," Piper retorted. "Besides, I don't mind cooking. Helps me relax."
Paige asked, "What are we having?"
"Nothing special. Scrambled eggs, toast and bacon." Piper placed both the toast and the bacon on the kitchen table. "The rest of the breakfast should be ready in a few minutes." The others sat down in the chairs that surrounded the table.
Phoebe reached for the pitcher of orange juice and poured herself a glass. "God, I'm hungry! Come to think of it, I haven't felt this hungry in a long time."
"It's your week off," Paige commented. "I know exactly how you feel. Ever since I had quit my job, my appetite has increased." She paused. "By the way, are you still going to help me find some Mugwort from that shop in Chinatown?"
Aware of the stares from Piper and Leo, Phoebe merely stared back. "What did you mean by 'still going'? Of course I will. Why wouldn't I?"
Paige hesitated. "Because you've barely spoken to me, since yesterday evening."
Shame overwhelmed Phoebe. She had never realized, until now, how her anger toward Cole and the McNeills had affected her family. Especially Paige. "Honey, I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I didn't mean . . ." Phoebe sighed. "You know, it's amazing how I have allowed Cole to poison everything. Well you know what? I'm tired of it. And I'm tired of him. Unless he deliberately hurts someone, I couldn't care less what he does. And if the McNeills want to be friends with him, let 'em. It's their funeral." From the corner of her eye, she saw Leo stiffened. "I'm sorry, Leo. I realize that if Olivia, Bruce and Harry want to be friends with Cole, it's their choice. I only hope they don't pay the price for that friendship."
"I understand," Leo murmured.
Phoebe added, "And Paige, I'm sorry for giving you the third degree. You're entitled to your own feelings."
"It's okay." Paige smiled timidly. "I'm just glad we're talking. And that we'll get to spend the day, together."
"Honey, I'm afraid that it will only be the morning. I have a doctor's appointment with Ava, this afternoon."
The telephone inside the kitchen rang. Piper answered. "Hello?"
Phoebe and the others watched as the oldest Halliwell continued the phone conversation. Curiosity became anxiety, as a concerned frown formed on Piper's face. She added, "Give us a call if you don't hear from Darryl or Olivia." Then she hung up.
"What's wrong?" Leo asked.
Still frowning, Piper replied, "That was Sheila Morris. Apparently, Darryl is missing. She woke up around five this morning and found him gone. I told her to give Olivia a call."
"Good suggestion. Olivia is probably the best person to find Darryl."
Phoebe took a sip of her juice. "Are you sure he's in danger? Maybe Darryl is at the station. This isn't the first time he has ended up working at odd hours."
"Unfortunately, Sheila did call the station. He's not there."
Paige added, "And what about that premonition that Olivia's friend received about Darryl?"
Phoebe retorted, "What premonition? A feeling? According to Darryl, she wasn't even able to receive a vision."
"She's right," Piper said. "And quite frankly, I'd rather rely on Phoebe's premonitions." She faced Leo. "Can you sense him?"
The whitelighter shook his head. "Darryl's not a witch. Or one of my charges. Sorry."
Piper heaved a large sigh. "Then I guess it's up to Olivia." She served the rest of the breakfast to her family.
* * * *
The morning was proving to be very enjoyable for Cecile. She had joined Olivia's mother, Gweneth McNeill, on a morning shopping spree around the city of San Francisco. Using the latter's car, they had already visited several out-of-the way shops, including a rare bookstore, a clothing store and a shop in the Castro District that sold a variety of candy - especially chocolate.
After a purchase of chocolate truffles, the two women returned to Mrs. McNeill's lime-green Nexus. "Our next stop will be a herbal store in the Haight-Ashbury neighborhood. I need some purple basil and lavender for a recipe I'm experimenting on."
"Isn't Wu Choi in Chinatown?" Cecile asked. It was the shop she used whenever she visited San Francisco.
Mrs. McNeill steered the Lexus down Washington. "Didn't Livy tell you? Barbara has opened a new shop. She sells herbs and other substances for potions from all over the world. It has been opened for the past five months."
"No, Olivia didn't say a word. How is it doing?"
The older woman nodded. "Not bad," she said in a soft Welsh accent. "In fact, quite well."
The two women finally reached their destination - a shop located on the first floor of a late Victorian manor. After Mrs. McNeill found a parking spot, the duo headed for the shop. "Hey! Cecile! Long time, no see!" a beautiful woman with long blonde hair and a cheerful countenance greeted Cecile with a hug. Barbara Bowen also happened to be engaged to Mrs. McNeill oldest offspring, Bruce. "Wow! I seemed to be getting a lot of surprise visitors, today!"
Mrs. McNeill's green eyes looked confused. "More visitors?"
Barbara nodded at the shop's other two occupants, standing near one of the large shelves. "Yeah! Look who's here."
Cecile and Mrs. McNeill stared at the visitors. The former did not recognize them, but the older woman did. And it seemed obvious that they recognized her.
"Phoebe!" the middle-aged woman greeted the young woman with shoulder-length dark-brown hair. Then she nodded at the other woman. The latter possessed bright red hair - a dye job, Cecile immediately surmised - and the same dark eyes. "And Paige!" Gweneth McNeill added. "What are you two doing here? I didn't realize you were among Barbara's regular customers."
The woman called Phoebe smiled politely. "Paige is looking for some Mugwort. Since this is my week off, I thought I accompany her. She couldn't find what she was looking for, in Chinatown."
"Well, isn't that's nice," Mrs. McNeill said with a nod. She turned to Cecile. "I would like you to meet an old friend of Olivia's - Cecile Dubois. Cecile is from New Orleans. Cecile, this is Phoebe and Paige Halliwell. They're the sisters of Olivia's old classmate." She smiled.
Cecile greeted the two women. "Nice to meet you."
"Yeah, same here," the redhead replied. "And I'm Paige Matthew, by the way. I'm Phoebe and Piper's half-sister."
Nodding, Cecile said to other woman, "And you must be Phoebe, Cole's ex-wife. Right?"
The other sister stiffened. Her smile became less warm. "Leo tell us that you practice Voodoo."
"Vodoun," Cecile corrected. "It means 'spirit' in the Fon language. Voodoo is some European version of the word."
Phoebe's brows shot upward. "I guess that means there's no such thing as witch doctors and zombies, huh?"
"Just as I'm sure that all witches don't look like Margaret Hamilton in THE WIZARD OF OZ. Or worship the devil." Cecile's smile widened, as Phoebe's disappeared.
Paige asked, "So you don't have zombies?"
Cecile's gaze returned to the redhead. Barbara answered before she could. "Zombies don't really exist in West African Vodoun. Some bokors use a poison from a blowfish called teterododixin to give their victims the appearance of a zombie."
Paige's dark eyes widened. "Bokor?"
"A sorcerer who practices magic for evil purposes," Cecile explained.
"Oh."
Silence followed. The Halliwell women regarded the new visitors with discomfort. Finally, Barbara rescued the moment by tapping Paige's shoulder. "By the way, I found that Mugwort you were looking for. Follow me." She started toward the back of the shop. To Cecile's relief, the two sisters followed.
Cecile turned to Gweneth McNeill. "Not a very friendly bunch, are they?"
The older woman sighed. "Actually, I believe they're quite nice. It's just that . . . well, they've been through a lot during the past few years. Especially with Cole. And they're not exactly thrilled by our friendship with him."
"No kidding."
Mrs. McNeill grabbed Cecile's arm and led her to one of the shelves. "Listen dearie, could you help me search for that purple basil and lavender? Barbara has an enormous stock of herbs and I'm going to need your help."
It did not take Mrs. McNeill long to find the purple basil. The lavender proved to be another matter. From the corner of her eye, Cecile spotted Barbara and the Halliwells return to the store's main room. She ignored them and continued the search for the lavender. Not long after the sisters left the shop, a vision gripped Cecile. She saw a shadowy figure shoot bolts of lightning at Paige Matthews, sending the latter flying across a living room.
The vision ended. Cecile gasped and her eyes flew open. Surprising both Mrs. McNeill and Barbara, she raced outside of the shop, yelling, "Wait! Wait!" But it was too late. Paige and Phoebe had climbed into a car. Just as Cecile began to race after it, the car roared away.
END OF CHAPTER 8
"Best Moment in a BOND Film"
What do you consider to be the best moment in each James Bond film? I had discovered this question on a Bond forum and decided to ask it on my blog. Below is a list of my choices. What are yours?
DR. NO - Professor Dent's death
FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE - Grant reveals SPECTRE's plot to Bond (although I do find it to be a little illogical)
GOLDFINGER - Bond's discovery of Jill Masterson's body
THUNDERBALL - Fiona gets the drop on Bond
YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE - Tiger Tanaka and his ninjas attack Blofeld's volcano
ON HER MAJESTY'S SECRET SERVICE - Bond's escape from Piz Gloria
DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER - Bond/Peter Franks fight in Tiffany's apartment building
LIVE AND LET DIE - Boat chase through the bayou
THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN GUN - Bond and Goodnight have lunch with Scaramanga
THE SPY WHO LOVED ME - Anya discovers that Bond had killed her lover
MOONRAKER - Bond saves Manuela from Jaws
FOR YOUR EYES ONLY - death of Emile Locque
OCTOPUSSY - Bond/Orlov confrontation at East German railyard
A VIEW TO A KILL - Zorin's men attempt to kill Bond on racetrack
THE LIVING DAYLIGHTS - Mujardeen attack on Soviet airbase/Bond confronts Pushkin
LICENSE TO KILL - Fight at Barrelhouse bar
GOLDENEYE - Bond and Natalya escape from General Ourumov
TOMORROW NEVER DIES - Bond/Dr. Kauffman confrontation
THE WORLD IS NOT ENOUGH - Bond confronts Elektra about possible connection to Renard
DIE ANOTHER DAY - Bond and Jinx raise havoc at Cuban clinic
CASINO ROYALE - Stairwell fight/Torture sequence
JANEWAY’S LAW OF PUNISHMENT
Every time I watch the STAR TREK VOYAGER Season Five episode, ”Thirty Days”, I feel a surge of anger. I am sure that this particular episode is familiar to many TREK fans. In it, Tom Paris is demoted to ensign and sentenced to thirty days in the brig for taking illegal action in an attempt to save a vast, inhabited ocean floating in space that is in danger of destruction.
This episode does not mark the first time when a member of the crew – specifically, a Senior Staff member – has commited an illegal act that angered Captain Kathryn Janeway. The following is a list of those officers and crewmen who pissed off the captain:*B’Elanna Torres and Tuvok (with Joe Carey and Seska) acquires a matrix trajector from someone on Sikaris, behind Captain Janeway’s back, in order to use the technology to get Voyager back to the Alpha Quadrant. Janeway lectures both B’Elanna and Tuvok, but does not punish them. (”Prime Factors”; Season 1)
*Following a successful raid on Voyager by Seska and some Kazon, Chakotay decides to go after them to retrieve or destroy the Federation technology stolen by Seska . . . without Janeway’s permission. Janeway lectured Chakotay and enters a reprimand in his official file. (”Manuevers”; Season 2)
*In an attempt to acquire a map of the Nekrit Expanse, Neelix helps an old friend illegally sell medical supplies (“drugs”) to a murderous drug smuggler at a space station. When Chakotay and Paris are arrested for illegal drug trading, Neelix keeps silent. Janeway punished Neelix with a lecture and by ordering him to clean out the warp plasma manifold for two weeks. (”Fair Trade”; Season 3)
*During an encounter between Hirogen hunters and a member of Species 8472 trying to return home following the war against the Borg, Seven-of-Nine disobeys Janeway’s order and transports the Species 8472 to one of the Hirogen ships in order to save Voyager from destruction. Janeway punishes her by limiting Seven’s access to some of Voyager’s systems and privileges. (”Prey”; Season 4)
*Tom Paris took illegal action by trying to save an oceanic world of Monea from destruction without the permission of Janeway or the Moneans. Janeway punishes him by demoting him to ensign and sentencing him to 30 days in the brig. (”Thirty Days; Season 5)
*Harry Kim breaks Starfleet regulations by having sex with an alien with any medical consent. Janeway lectures him and enters a reprimand in his official file. (”The Disease”; Season 5)
*The Doctor becomes sympathetic with a group of holograms in rebellion against the Hirogen. He joins their cause and gives them Voyager’s shield frequencies following the latter’s brief fight with a Hirogen ship. He also gives the holograms data so that they can overload Voyager’s deflector dish and primary systems. The Doctor offers to hand over his mobile emitter to Janeway, which would limit his access to the ship. Janeway decides not to punish him. (”Flesh and Blood”; Season 7)
Has anyone notice something very disturbing? Out of eight Senior Staff members, only two are physically punished – Neelix and Tom Paris. Neelix was forced to clean warp plasma manifolds for two weeks. And Paris? He was demoted from Lieutenant Junior Grade to Ensign and forced to spend thirty days in the brig. All of the others nearly endangered Voyager’s crew or some alien planet one way or the other. Torres and Tuvok’s deal with the Sikirians nearly destroyed Voyager. Chakotay nearly endangered Voyager’s security system even further with his capture by Seska and the Kazon. Neelix’s action led to Chakotay and Paris’ arrests as drug dealers. Seven-of-Nine sacrificed an innocent’s life – the Species 8472 – in the name of self preservation. Harry’s little sexual escapade could have endangered the crew’s physical health. And the Doctor’s action resulted in the damage of some of Voyager’s systems. Yet, Paris is the only Senior Staff member to receive severe punishment by Janeway. Why?
After so many years, I think I may know the answer to my question. A member from a Star Trek discussion board had hinted a few years ago that like most parents or authority figures, Janeway had punished those with what she believed possessed the most potential. It is possible that she believed that Tom Paris had the most potential to be a successful Starfleet officer. And she wanted to ensure that he lived up to that potential. Perhaps she wanted to succeed where her former mentor, Owen Paris, had failed. Unfortunately, Janeway encountered a little problem that threatened to derail her goals. Namely Paris’ confession regarding his true ambitions in ”Thirty Days”
Early in the episode, Janeway noticed Paris’ enthusiastic reaction to Monea. She invited him to her Ready Room to discuss his Away mission to the planet and learned something new about her Chief Helmsman:
Later, in Janeway's Ready Room, Janeway and Paris have a sociable chat as much as discussing the mission ahead.
Janeway: "I had no idea you were such an old salt."
Paris: "When I saw that ocean today it reminded me of the first time I read Jules Verne."
Janeway: "'20,000 Leagues Under the Sea'."
Paris: "Mmm! I must've read it 20,000 times. I was obsessed with stories about the ocean. All my friends were busy with their holo programs. I had my head buried in Captains Courageous, Moby Dick...."
Janeway: "So your interest in history includes the 19th century as well."
Paris: "Ancient sailing ships were always my first love. I had it all planned: finish high school, join the Federation Naval Patrol....but my father had other ideas."
Janeway: "You'd think Admiral Paris might have understood his son's passion."
Paris: "As far as he was concerned the only ship I was going to serve on had to have a Starfleet insignia on it."
Janeway, surmising his enthusiasm: "And now you have an opportunity to make up for lost time."
Paris: "Captain, with a few simple thruster modifications to the Delta Flyer, she will be seaworthy in no time."
Janeway: "Good. It'd take at least a week to make the necessary modifications to Voyager."
Paris: "Then it's my mission?"
Janeway: "Bon voyage."
As much as he loved flying, Paris had another love . . . namely the sea. He never had any ambitions to become a Starfleet officer, let alone one with his own command. Paris had wanted to join the Federation Naval Patrol . But he had given in to Owen Paris’ demands that he join Starfleet. This lack of desire for a career on the Starfleet fast track manifested in other VOYAGER episodes and scenes. Since ”Thirty Days”, the Chief Helmsman never bothered to volunteer for Bridge command. He even ridiculed Harry’s ambitions every once and awhile. He maintained his contempt toward the Prime Directive (see ”Blink of an Eye”). In ”Bliss”, his main desire for returning to Earth seemed to be centered around becoming a civilian test pilot at a facility in New Zealand. I am not that surprised, considering his exchange with the ship “Alice” in the aptly named Season Six episode:
Alice: "Sometimes you have to leave your family behind. They're not like us. They're trapped by rules and regulations. Velocity, freedom - they'll never understand these things the way we do."
Paris: "Yeah, maybe you're right."
Alice: "Of course I am. You don't belong here. You belong with me. You're thinking about your first flight, aren't you? Tell me."
Paris: "Dad took me up in an old S-class shuttle - two seats, no warp drive, manual helm controls. I was eight years old and I was scared out of my wits."
Alice: "You couldn't keep the ship level."
Paris: "No, not at first, but then came this moment of clarity when suddenly everything made sense."
Alice: "The clouds parted."
Paris: "I was flying! No matter how many starships I've piloted since then I'm still chasing that feeling."
I would not be surprised that both the sea and flying represented that feeling that Paris had been chasing since his first flight – namely freedom. And I cannot also help but wonder if the pilot’s confession regarding his true ambitions – namely to join the Federation Naval Patrol – had led Janeway to punish him more severely than she did other members of Voyager’s Senior Staff.
THE END
"THERE WILL BE BLOOD" Photo Gallery
Below is a gallery of photos from the new Paul Thomas Anderson film, "THERE WILL BE BLOOD", starring Daniel Day-Lewis (who recently won a Golden Globe for his performance), Paul Dano, Dillon Freasier, Ciaran Hinds and Kevin J. O'Connor:
"RETURN WITH A VENGEANCE"
CHAPTER 7
Inside the Halliwells' Solarium, Leo withered under Piper's glare. "Don't . . . you . . . ever ask me to interfere in your job like that, again!" she coldly demanded. "Ever! Unless it's an emergency."
"Emer . . . what happened with Mrs. McNeill?" Leo asked.
Piper cried out, "What happened? I'll tell you what happened! Both Paige and I nearly ended up feeling like complete idiots! We tried to warn Mrs. McNeill - old Mrs. McNeill - and Mr. McNeill about Cole. But they simply dismissed us like . . . like a bunch of simpletons! They even had the nerve to question our actions when we vanquished that son-of-a-bitch, last spring!"
Noting his wife's agitated state, Leo tried to calm her. "Take it easy, Piper! You don't want to get upset, what with the baby and everything."
I'm already upset, Leo! I've been upset ever since we left the McNeills!"
At that moment, Phoebe and Paige entered the Solarium. "Paige told me what happened with the McNeills," Phoebe grimly commented. "So much for warning them."
"I'm sorry, honey," Piper cooed, suddenly looking contrite. Ever since her pregnancy began, her mood shifts have never failed to amaze Leo. And keep him off guard. "I guess they weren't willing to listen."
Phoebe shook her head. "You know, it seems as if Cole may have brainwashed them all with that mind manipulating power of his."
"He's never used that power on us," Paige quietly added. "Even when he had the opportunity to do so."
The other two Halliwells stared at their sister with disbelief. Leo frowned. "What do you mean by that?" Phoebe coolly asked.
Paige's usually pale skin turned pink. "Nothing. I . . . I don't know. I guess I have this feeling that the McNeills genuinely like him. They don't exactly strike me as the conventional types, anyway. And after all, Olivia was once engaged to a warlock."
"That only means they have bad taste in friends," Piper caustically replied. Her eyes grew uneasy. "You're not buying that nonsense that the McNeills were telling us about the Source, are you?"
"Of course not!" Paige's response came a little too quick to suit Leo. He had the oddest feeling that the youngest Charmed One was beginning to doubt the family's opinion on Cole. Both Phoebe and Piper continued to stare at Paige. "Why are you two staring at me, like that?"
Piper cleared her throat and glanced away. "It's nothing, Paige. Right Pheebs?"
To Leo's dismay, the middle Halliwell turned her back on the others and left the room. Leo did not say it out loud, but the oath rang in his mind, loud and clear. Damn Cole Turner!
* * * *
Darryl Morris heaved a sigh, as he stretched across the living room sofa. His wife, a beautiful woman with light-brown skin and sharp cheekbones, regarded him with a concerned expression. "Baby, why don't you go to bed? You look pretty tired."
"I'm fine," Darryl replied, stifling a yawn. "Besides, it's only ten after ten."
Sheila Morris walked over to a nearby closet. She returned seconds later, holding a blanket. "The way you look, right now, it might as well be midnight. Go to bed, Darryl. You're not going to last very long."
Darryl sighed. In this age of feminine enlightenment and two-income marriages, it amazed him that he managed to end up married to a bona fide mother hen. Sheila had her own career as a computer software consultant. Yet, she possessed a maternal instinct that Piper Halliwell would envy. And Darryl could not have been any happier.
"Look Sheila, I want go over this police report before I turn in. It shouldn't take long." He reached for the brown accordion file, situated on the coffee table.
A frown creased Sheila's brow. "Is that about the man found in the alley, this morning?"
"Yeah."
Sheila continued, "Do you and Olivia have any idea who had killed him?"
What could Darryl say? That a warlock, who had once been a pebble, was responsible for the man's death? Sheila would immediately suspect him of losing his mind. Even after three years, Darryl had yet to reveal the Halliwells' secret. Or Olivia's secret in the past three weeks. Then again, Sheila did believe in aspects of New Age religion like past lives, horoscopes and psychic abilities. Maybe he should tell her . . . one day.
"We don't know yet," Darryl finally lied. "We think this killing might be linked to those from last month." Darryl stifled another yawn.
Sheila handed him the blanket. "Here. Even if you don't fall asleep, it's going to be a cold night. And it's supposed to rain. Here's something to keep you warm." She leaned down and planted a light kiss on Darryl's lips. "I'm going to bed early, myself. Good-night, baby." Darryl murmured a quick goodnight and returned his attention to the police file.
Within five minutes, Darryl found himself becoming groggy. He struggled to keep his eyes opened, but in the end, he slipped into a deep sleep.
* * * *
Suzanne Crozat glanced at the rosewood clock resting on the fireplace mantle, inside Cole Turner's penthouse. It read ten twenty-five. She and the half-demon had just finished a late supper - a delicious meal that consisted of Rock Cornish Hen with Raisin Sauce, herbed rice and Peas Amandine. Who knew that the infamous Belthazor also happened to be a first-class cook? Or so good-looking? She only recalled how he looked in daemonic form.
Fearful that she might become too comfortable, thanks to the delectable meal and the attractive company, Suzanne focused her mind on the task at hand. Namely slipping the potion to Belthazor. It galled Suzanne that she had not remembered to do so, during the meal. Belthazor - or should she say Cole - returned to the living room, carrying two snifters filled with brandy. The perfect nightcap to a perfect evening. Suzanne frowned. Perfect? What the hell was the matter with her?
"Is there something wrong?" Cole asked. He placed the brandy on the coffee table, in front of Suzanne.
She stared at her host. "Huh?"
"You're frowning. I was wondering if . . ."
A brief smile struggled to form on Suzanne's lips. "It's . . . business," she finally said. "I'm, uh, I'm having trouble finding the right real estate agent. For the venture I had told you about."
"Oh yes. Look, why don't you leave it to me to find an agent?" Cole smiled.
Suzanne returned his smile. At the same time, she felt a jolt of desire throughout her body. An idea popped into her head. One that would appall her cousins. She found herself playing with the idea of enjoying a night of sex with Bel . . . Cole Turner. The idea swam in her mind for a minute or two. Suzanne reminded herself that Turner was a half-daemon who had betrayed the Source's Realm more than once over the past two years. One who had consorted with witches and whitelighters. The only thing he deserved was death . . . after the Crozats take his powers, of course.
Suddenly clutching her stomach, Suzanne let out a fake gasp. "Oh! Oh God! Do you have any antacid?" she asked.
Concern etched across Cole's face. "Are you ill?"
"Huh? Uh, no. No, I'm fine. It's just . . ." Suzanne paused dramatically. "I guess the meal turned out to be a little too rich for me. An antacid pill would help. Do you have one?"
Cole shot her a quick smile and stood up. "I'll be right back." He strode out of the living room. The moment he disappeared, Suzanne rummaged through her purse, until she came across a vial of green-colored liquid. The potion. She uncorked the vial and poured the contents into Cole's brandy snifter. And not a moment too soon. Cole returned with two white tablets, the moment she slipped the empty vial back inside her purse.
"Here you go." He handed Suzanne the two tablets. "They're chewable."
With a smile, Suzanne thanked Cole, took the tablets, and popped them into her mouth. Cole returned to his seat, next to her. "Now, about that list of agents . . ." Apparently, he still had business on the brain.
"Don't you think it's a bit late to be discussing business?" Suzanne leaned forward, making sure that Cole had a clear view of her best attributes - her eyes and full lips.
Cole's blue eyes grew wide. "Well," he said in his usual soft voice, "what exactly do you want to discuss?" He did not bother to draw away. Interesting.
"For starters, how about this brandy?" Suzanne picked up her brandy snifter. "I'm something of a wine connoisseur."
Cole stared at her. For a brief moment, his eyes expressed confusion. Then he smiled and reached for his snifter. "Well, if you must know . . ."
The doorbell rang, cutting him off. Suzanne bit back a frustrated growl. Dammit! She had been so close. Cole stood up and headed for the door. From her view of the front door, Suzanne saw a shock of red hair. "Olivia?" She heard Cole say.
Olivia McNeill. Suzanne felt a flash of anxiety. Cole's neighbor and one of the McNeill witches. What was she doing here?
"I wondered if you had any parsley," the McNeill witch said, answering Suzanne's question. She followed Cole into the penthouse. Her green eyes fell upon Suzanne, and she paused. "Oh. I forgot that you had a guest, this evening."
Forgot, my ass! Suzanne suspected that this red-haired bitch had purposely interrupted Cole's date. Why, she had no idea. But the witch's presence made Suzanne feel anxious.
Cole nervously cleared his throat and introduced the two women. "Suzanne, this is my neighbor, Olivia McNeill. Olivia, this is Suzanne Maxwell, one of my new clients."
"How do you do?" Olivia greeted with a smile.
Suzanne tried to be just as friendly, but it took a great deal of effort on her part. While Cole headed to the kitchen to retrieve the requested herb, Olivia McNeill continued to make conversation. "So, you're a new client of Cole's. What exactly do you do for a living?"
"I, uh . . . I'm managing my late husband's holdings. You know, investments, real estate . . . that sort of thing," Suzanne replied politely. "Since I'm new to San Francisco, Cole is helping me manage everything."
Auburn brows shot upward. "This is your first time in San Francisco? Where are you from?"
Nosy little bitch! Suzanne struggled to keep her irritation in check. "Canada. I'm from Canada. Vancouver."
Green eyes developed an intensity that disturbed Suzanne. "Really?" the McNeill witch said in a reflective voice. "You don't sound Canadian."
Panic gripped Suzanne. How in the hell did this woman know the difference between an American and a Canadian accent? Suzanne took a quick breath and added that she was born and raised in Portland, Oregon. "But my husband was a Canadian. I've been living there for the past seven years."
"Hmmm." The McNeill woman's green eyes remained glued to the warlock's face. Then she smiled. "Sorry about the twenty questions. I'm a cop and sometimes my conversation tends to turn into an interrogation."
Suzanne feebly returned the smile. "It's okay." Now, she thought, if only Cole would return with that bottle of parsley. Just as she began to relax, the McNeill witch bumped into the coffee table. And knocked Cole's brandy snifter onto the table. To Suzanne's horror, the snifter's contents spilled out onto the carpet-covered floor.
"Ooops!" A mild grimace stretched the witch's mouth. She turned to the approaching Cole. "Oh God! I think I just spilled brandy on your carpet."
Cole glanced at the spot on the carpet and shrugged. "No problem. I have something that will clean that spot out. Here's your parsley." He handed a bottle of the green herb to the McNeill witch.
Suzanne was barely paying attention. Instead, she was doing her level best not to give in to anger and kill the red-haired witch. She glanced into the latter's eyes . . . saw the calculated gleam and simmered down. Now was not the time to fly into a state of rage.
"Suzanne?" Cole's voice broke into her thoughts. "Are you okay? Or is your stomach still bothering you?"
Was she okay? That damn McNeill bitch had just ruined her coven's chance to steal Belthazor's powers, tonight! Only the gods knew when they would get such a chance, again. The warlock took a deep breath. "I'm fine. Somewhat. I . . . my stomach is still a little heavy from that meal." Suzanne feigned a wan smile. "I guess the antacid didn't work. Maybe I should go home and get some rest."
"Well, there's no need to leave on my account," Olivia protested.
Suzanne quickly shook her head. "It's not that. Really! My stomach has been doing flip-flops during the past twenty minutes."
Frowning, Cole retrieved Suzanne's coat from the closet. He helped her put it on. "I hope my cooking didn't make you sick."
"Oh no! Dinner was great! I think I may have eaten just a little too much. And it was a bit rich." Suzanne gave the pair another wan smile. Then she said to Cole, "Give me a call when you find what I'm looking for."
Cole nodded. "Of course."
Suzanne flashed her host one last smile, and left just as fast as she could.
* * * *
The dark figure materialized into the middle of the Morris living room. Holding a reddish-brown urn, Edward Crozat quietly sat the urn down on the coffee table, and stared at the slumbering figure on the sofa. He smiled. The perfect opportunity.
Edward quickly stepped away from the table. He moved to an empty spot behind the staircase. Using his telekinesis, the warlock removed the urn's top. Seconds later, a cold chill permeated the room, followed by a dark cloud that rose ominously from the urn. Edward watched the cloud drift toward Darryl Morris, hover briefly and finally invade the latter's body.
Another minute passed. The police inspector's eyes flew open. The man on the sofa sat up, gazed around the room, and spotted Edward behind the staircase. "Who are you?" Morris' deep voice resonated with a West African accent.
"Edward Crozat at your service, your eminence." The warlock stepped forward and bowed deeply. "I'm a warlock."
Morris rose from the sofa and stared imperiously at Edward. "'Your eminence'? You know who I am?"
"Why yes, the great Dahomey sorcerer, Dako." Edward fell upon his knees. "Welcome to the 21st century."
END OF CHAPTER 7
"ALTERED LIVES"
CHAPTER SIX
LARS HOMESTEAD, TATOOINE
Obi-Wan guided the Nabooan skiff to a moisture farm, outside Mos Eisley. After he landed the craft, two figures emerged from the dome-shaped adobe structure. Obi-Wan left the cockpit and disembarked from the ship.
"Good evening sir," a stocky young man in desert robes greeted. "My name is Owen Lars. This is my wife, Beru." He nodded at the diminutive, yet slightly pretty young woman that stood by the farmer's side. "May I help you?"
Obi-Wan bowed formally. "Yes. My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi, and I . . ."
Mrs. Lars gasped slightly. Her husband frowned. "Obi-Wan Kenobi?" the latter repeated. "Of the Jedi Order? Anakin's friend?"
The former Jedi Master nearly winced at the last description. "Uh, yes. You've heard of me?"
Mr. Lars hesitated before he replied, "My late stepmother, Shmi Skywalker Lars, used to mention both you and her son, Anakin Skywalker. Apparently, he had mentioned your name in the only letter he ever written to her." His expression indicated slight disapproval of Anakin's lack of communication.
Vaguely, Obi-Wan recalled giving the nine year-old Anakin, permission to write one last letter to his mother. Just before the young boy had began formal Jedi training. "I see," the older man murmured. "Yes, well the reason I am here is I am looking for Anakin."
"He's missing?" Owen Lars' frown disappeared.
A curious Beru Lars asked, "What happened to him? Has it to do with the Empire's edict against the Jedi?"
"You've learned that we now have a new Empire?" Obi-Wan asked.
Lars shrugged his shoulders. "The news had spread pretty fast throughout the planet. We've just learned about the death of Anakin's friend, Senator Amidala."
Obi-Wan merely responded with feigned sadness. "Yes, it was quite a blow. I have known the senator since she was Queen of Naboo."
A long silent pause followed. The Jedi Master found himself growing slightly uncomfortable. The Lars struck him as decent people. Yet, their reticence made it difficult for him to feel at ease. He found it easier to interact with more extroverted personalities like Qui-Gon. And Anakin.
"You said something about Anakin being missing?" Lars finally asked, breaking the silence. "What happened?"
Obi-Wan told the moisture farmers about the events that had recently unfolded. But he left out Anakin's role in the Jedi Order's destruction. And the duel on Mustafar. "All of the surviving Jedi have been on the run, since. I have been trying to locate Anakin. To find out if whether he is dead or alive."
"He's not here," Lars declared. "In fact, Beru and I haven't laid eyes on him in three years. Not since my stepmother's death."
In other words, Obi-Wan silently surmised, Anakin may have returned to Coruscant . . . and Palpatine. He felt slightly disappointed that Anakin's last act on Mustafar may have failed to turn him away from the Dark Side.
"What about Mos Espa?" Mrs. Beru suggested.
Lars glanced at her. "You mean Watto?"
"Who?" Obi-Wan asked. The name sounded familiar. "Wasn't he Anakin's former owner?"
The woman, Beru, added, "And Shmi's."
"Watto is dead," Lars revealed in a matter-of-factly tone. "Remember? He was killed by one of the Hutts after failing to pay back a loan." He turned to Obi-Wan. "If Anakin had went to Mos Espa, he must now know that Watto is dead. Besides, I doubt he would have an easy time finding employment. Most people either own slaves or droids. He would be better off going somewhere else."
Obi-Wan's brief flare of hope quickly died. "Yes, of course. That would make sense." He heaved a melancholy sigh.
Mrs. Lars said, "I don't mean to pry, but do you have anywhere to go? I mean . . ." She paused at her husband.
Lars added, "We're just wondering if you plan to keep looking for Anakin." His eyes glanced downward, as he sighed. "I don't mean to sound blunt, but it looks as if he might be dead. And if he isn't, I don't think that your chances of finding him are all that great. Perhaps you should just . . ."
"Give up?" Obi-Wan finished. Privately, he already had. The Jedi Master had tried using the Force to sense Anakin's presence within the galaxy. He tried and failed. Either Anakin was truly dead (which he doubted), had disappeared or returned to Coruscant. Obi-Wan feared the latter. It seemed useless to continue his search for Anakin. Perhaps he should do as he had hinted to Master Yoda - find a permanent home here on Tatooine. "Perhaps you're right," he said to the Lars.
Lars asked, "Are you considering a room in Mos Eisley? I'm sure there are plenty of . . ."
"I don't think so," Obi-Wan said with a shake of his head. "Not isolated enough. I don't think it would be wise of me to live in a settled area. Sooner or later, an Imperial presence will be stationed in the cities."
Again, Lars and his wife exchanged glances. "There's a small hut not far from here," the moisture farmer commented. "In the middle of the Wasteland. You can dismantle your starship. Sell the parts. Create a nice, comfortable living for yourself. Of course, you would have to be wary of the Tusken Raiders."
The moisture farmer's suggestion made good sense to Obi-Wan. Any further roaming on his part might lead to capture or death. And if Padme and her children ever found themselves on the run, chances of them seeking refuge here on Tatooine seemed pretty certain. "Yes," the Jedi Master said. "I believe it would be wise for me to take up your suggestion. Could you direct me . . .?"
Lars' wife interrupted. "You should look for it, tomorrow. Tonight, you can share dinner with us and spend the night at our homestead. Right, Owen?"
"You would be more than welcomed," Lars added.
Obi-Wan felt a twinge of guilt for his earlier view of the couple. Reticent or not, they also seemed to be very hospitable and selfless people. What a shame that Anakin never became more acquainted with them. The Jedi Master gratefully accepted the couple's offer and followed them inside the homestead.
---------
ALDERA PALACE, ALDERAAN
The Tantive IV entered Alderaan space and descended toward the planet's capital city - Aldera and the royal palace located at the city's outskirts. The Corellian-made star cruiser slowly landed on the palace's main platform, where a handful of palace aides had gathered.
Inside her cabin, Padme made last adjustments to her outfit. She wore a simple, elegant black gown made from brocade, with a silk black belt wrapped around her waist. A delicately woven black lace veil covered her face - indicating her status as a recent widow. Both Luke and Leia lay in separate baskets. Bail's aide, Sheltay Retrac, had already made arrangements for the removal of Padme's trunks from the cabin.
Padme glanced through the cabin's window. After the cruiser had landed, she saw Bail and his traveling entourage greet the palace aides. A few minutes passed before the entire party strode toward one of the palace's entrances. The cabin's bell chimed. Padme ushered in the cruiser's captain. "Milady," Captain Raymus Antilles greeted with a bow. "It is time to leave."
The Alderaanian picked up Luke. Padme lifted Leia's basket. She and her droids followed the captain out of the cabin. The small party entered the palace and weaved their way through a series of wide corridors. They eventually came upon a pair of wide, double doors. "Senator, this will be your quarters until a more permanent arrangement can be found." Captain Antilles opened the double doors and led the others inside.
"Oh my!" C3-P0 declared in hushed tones. R2-D2 beeped excitedly. Padme understood the droids' reactions. Some would have called her penthouse at the Senate Apartment Complex in 500 Republica as opulent. But her former apartment seemed modest in compare to her new apartments, here on Alderaan. The rooms reminded Padme of her years as Naboo's queen, at the Theed Royal Palace.
Captain Antilles added, "Arrangements are being made to find a nursemaid for the children. Now, if you will excuse me, Milady." He bowed and left the room.
Padme heaved a sigh and said to Threepio, "We might as well begin unpacking." It took the former senator and the droids nearly a half hour to unpack all of her belongings. As luck would have it, Bail or one of his aides even managed to find a pair of cribs for the twins.
Just as Padme and the droids finished their task, Sheltay Retrac appeared with another woman in tow. "Good day, Senator," Sheltay greeted. "I would like to introduce you to Magda. His Highness has asked her to act as your children's nursemaid." She added, "With your permission, of course."
"Permission granted," Padme said with a reassuring smile to the nursemaid. "The children are in the east room." Magda bowed and strode out of the main room.
At that moment, the doors opened and Bail and a third woman entered the main apartment. Padme immediately recognized her colleague's wife - the regal, dark-haired ruler of Alderaan, Queen Breha Antilles-Organa. "Your Majesty," Padme greeted the older woman with a curtsey.
Alderaan's queen greeted the former senator with a warm smile. "Senator Amidala, we are so glad to have you here on Alderaan. Bail has informed me of your recent difficulties. I am so sorry."
"I've been through trying times before," Padme replied, wondering what her former colleague had told his wife. "And survived. I shall survive this."
Queen Breha nodded. "Of course. Where are the children?"
"In the new nursery. The room to the right." Padme hesitated. "By the way, I want to thank you both for giving the children and me refuge here on Alderaan. And for finding a new nursemaid for the twins."
The Alderaanian queen merely nodded. "Magda had originally been hired to act as nursemaid for my . . . our . . ." A heavy sadness shadowed her elegant face.
A slightly stiff Bail added, "The queen and I have experienced difficulty in con . . . in conceiving a child, over the past several years. Recently, Breha had . . . suffered a miscarriage."
The Organas' troubles made Padme forget her own. "Oh. I'm so sorry," she murmured.
"It no longer matters," Queen Breha said, assuming a brave smile. "At least this old place will finally enjoy the presence of children." Her face brightened with hope. "May I see them?"
Smiling, Padme replied, "Of course. I'll have . . ."
"Don't worry," the queen said. "I'll simply find my way to the nursery. Excuse me." She left the main apartment.
Bail turned to his aide. "Do you mind, Sheltay? I would like to speak with the senator alone." The other woman bowed and followed the queen out of the room. Once alone, Bail asked Padme, "How are you feeling?"
With a shrug, she replied, "Fine. I think. Considering the horrors of the past few days. When will the Senate reconvene?"
"Next week," Bail replied. "Rumor has it that our new emperor plans to discuss the fate of the Separatist worlds."
"Somehow, I do not foresee a pleasant future for them."
Bail replied, "I do not foresee one for the entire galaxy. Mon Mothma believes that our old Loyalist Committee should publicly speak out, if the Emperor begins to abuse his new powers."
The news immediately alarmed Padme. "No, Bail. I don't believe that is a good idea. Now is not the time. Right now, you all need to be good little Senators. Mind your manners and keep your heads down. However, there is no reason why you and the others should make plans to oppose the Emperor sometime in the future."
Nodding, the Alderaanian prince said, "You're right. The last thing we need to do right now is attract Palpatine's attention. Especially since he is preoccupied with hunting down Jedi Knights and probably his former apprentice."
"Former appren . . .?" The words took Padme by surprise. "Surely you don't speak of Count Dooku? He's dead."
"No, I speak of Anakin, of course." Bail hesitated. "Your husband. You do know that he's missing, don't you?"
Shock overwhelmed Padme, as she stared at her former colleague. "That's impossible! Anakin is dead! Obi-Wan was forced to kill him on Mustafar. When I asked, he could not even say anything."
It became Bail's turn to look astonished. "You mean to say that Master Yoda and Master Kenobi never told you what happened on Mustafar? During Kenobi's fight with your husband, Anakin had decided to walk away than finish the duel. He even left his lightsaber to Master Kenobi."
Anger welled inside Padme. "They lied to me!" she hissed in a low voice. "They lied!"
"Padme . . . please," Bail pleaded. "Perhaps they had a reason . . ."
"They had a reason, all right!" Padme retorted. "They wanted to make sure that I would not roam the galaxy, searching for Anakin!"
Bail added soothingly, "Can you blame them? I'm sure that Master Yoda and Master Kenobi wanted to make sure that you and the children will remain safe from the Emperor."
Her anger rising, Padme shot back, "And that's not all! They also wanted to make certain that Luke and Leia will grow up to ensure the continuation of their precious Jedi Order in the future! No wonder Master Yoda wanted the twins separated from me."
Anxiety flared in Bail's dark eyes. "Padme, you're not going to . . .?"
"Search for Anakin?" Padme shook her head. "No. Despite what Master Yoda and Master Kenobi may think, I have enough sense to realize that would be dangerous. At least right now. But they had lied to me, Bail. And for that it might be a while before I can forgive them. If ever."
----------
MOS ESPA, TATOOINE
A despondent Anakin sat inside the tavern's taproom, nursing a glass of Corellian Spiced Ale. Two days had passed since his starfighter had been stolen and he learned of Padme's death. And nothing had been right since.
Padme was dead. He still found it hard to believe. When he last saw her on Mustafar, she had been alive and well . . . despite her unconscious state. His attack upon her must have caused more damage than he realized. The idea sent Anakin into another wave of anger - only directed at himself.
The disappearance of the Jedi starfighter had made matters worse for him. Upon learning of the disappearance, Anakin realized that the Jawas must have come across his ship and stripped it down to parts to be sold. Without his starfighter, he found himself stranded on Tatooine. In fact, he lacked the means to find transportation to the Lars moisture farm, outside Mos Eisley.
Now on his fourth day, Anakin's self-anger had transformed into despair. Padme was dead. His life was over as a Jedi Knight. He no longer desired to return to Sidious and Coruscant. And he lacked the funds to leave Tatooine, let alone find transportation to the Lars' homestead. He also realized that he only had enough Wupiupi for one last meal. He certainly could not spend another night at the tavern. His situation left him with two options - starvation or offer himself as an indentured servant to one of the city's merchants. Despite his despondency, Anakin felt no desire to commit suicide. A small part of him simply refused to give up, just because his circumstances have become nearly hopeless. He only hoped that Bashir Gupa or any other merchant would accept his offer as an indentured servant. How ironic that he seemed to have come a full circle in his life. Thirteen years ago, he had left Tatooine, newly freed from servitude. And now, he has