Murazor wrote:
Notes: I seriously dislike the way I have translated this, but it seems it is the best I can do at the moment. I beg the readers to tell me any mistakes I might have made. Thank you.
It seems good to me. A few words aren't quite right, but overall it seems fine.
"Obi-Wan and Anakin had a superb panoramic of virtually everything in the room." Should be probably be have a superb panoramic view, or possibly panorama, but I'mnot sure you'd have a panorama. Possibly you might see one.
"but Kenobi wisely decided to withhold critics" That should be to withold criticism.
Hi! I'm Prozac the Robert!
EBC: "We can categorically state that we will be releasing giant man-eating badgers into the area."
Very good! I wonder how long it takes them to discovour two red lightsabres? And how Dooku will explain it all..
Via money Europe could become political in five years" "... the current communities should be completed by a Finance Common Market which would lead us to European economic unity. Only then would ... the mutual commitments make it fairly easy to produce the political union which is the goal"
At the same time of Dooku's awakening and over a kilometer away from the Jedi, General Grievous shook his head, attempting to get rid of an strange feeling he didn't know how to explain. A maddening, constant pressure in his mind had disappeared suddenly, leaving him strangely detached from his memories and actions of the last months. Strange, disturbing and very, very untimely.
He was directing a battle against an enemy that had him outnumbered and outgunned, in the very heart of the Republic. The enemy had reinforcements avalaible. He didn't. The sad, simple truth was that he could not win the battle. His best efforts would, at best, prolong it and he didn't know how long he would be able to do so.
Coruscant's planetary shield had been raised too late to stop the Confederate surprise attack, but now that it was active, it prevented their escape. Droid bombers had managed to destroy several emitters, opening gaps in the protective bubble, but Count Dooku had wanted to wait. Apparently, the Chancellor's capture was not enough and Skywalker and Kenobi, arguably the most famous Jedi in the galaxy, had an important role in the enigmatic Sith plans, plans Grievous wasn't privy to.
After several hours, the two knights had arrived from the Outer Rim, but they have brought the full might of their Fifth Fleet. Now that the Jedi were onboard his ship and leaving was possible, five thousand Republican warships stood between the Confederate fleet and freedom. So far, every try to open a path through the enemy wall had been repeled and the Confederation had suffered very serious casualties.
Groups One and Four had suffered the worst, as they had been the Separatist spearpoint in the first half of the battle. Grievous had ordered them to retreat and regroup behind the Separatist lines, in the high planetary atmosphere, where combat was less intense and they boosted the sorely depleted reserve forces. But Groups Two, Five and Eight were in dire straits as well, having lost most of their heavy combat elements... Wherever he looked, the Supreme Commander of the Droid Army saw the confirmation of something he already knew. The battle of Coruscant was about to turn into a resounding success for the Republic.
And the only way to prevent it was an almost desperate gamble that even Grievous had hesitated to use. But the cyborg had no options left and he wasn't about to let the Jedi defeat him. The general approached the Invisible Hand's communications control center and gave the droid technician a single order, ignoring the horrified glances exchanged by the Neimoidian officers.
From the antennas of the feared cruiser was sent a single and brief message, that cut through the jamming generated by both fleets. In every Confederate warship, the captains ordered with suddenly quivering voices to confirm receipt and to begin the preparations. In addition to Grievous' id codes, the message contained just six words: 'Prepare for Base Delta Zero protocol'.
Base Delta Zero. The codename for a mass orbital bombardment of a planetary surface. A bombardment that erased all traces of life from the planet, but didn't end until the crust was molten magma. The codename came from the first great Separatist victory, early in the war, when general Sev'rance Tann had used that maneuver to destroy a major Republican base (Base Delta Zero, of course) that had been used as a staging point for the invasion of Geonosis. And the Confederation had kept the designation to taunt the loyalist armies.
Despite this, the tactic had grown famous only after Grievous' apparition, because the General had grown fond of it and used it a great many times. And not only against military targets, but against population centers, like the ecumenopolis of Humbarine, sterilized in a hour-long bombardment. Such actions more than anything else had given Grievous his well deserved reputation of being a cruel monster. However, it seemed that not even his own underlings had believed him capable of ordering such an attack against Coruscant of all planets.
A most grievous mistake.
-----
The battle of Coruscant was being broadcast live by over three hundred Holonet channels. There were cameras following the action from the surface, from orbital satellites and even from robo-ships that dared to enter the crossfire zones to get the best images. The battle for the audience was almost as fierce as the true battle.
The Holonet informed the citizens of a whole galaxy about the smallest details of the conflict. It was an unmatched source of information, that reached most civilized planets. The Confederation had tried to counter it, but the alternative network funded by the Commerce Guilds wasn't nearly as popular and was seen only in Separatist territory. Finally, it had been decided that hacking the Holonet for propagandistic purposes was better and cheaper at the moment. Millions of hidden hyperwave relays had been secretly dispersed.
A fraction of them was activated by a signal sent from the Invisible Hand. A costly maneuver, that allowed Grievous to gain for a little time control over the full network, excluding official channels with high levels of encryption.
As a result, the special programming disappeared suddenly from the screens of ten million worlds. After three seconds, the image of the Confederation's most feared soldier appeared in that very screens and begun to talk, almost hurriedly, fearing perhaps that the Republic would recover control of the system too soon.
"Greetings, citizens of the Galaxy. I appear before you for the second time today, in this historic day to make an important announcement. The war criminals Kenobi and Skywalker had been captured during a failed attempt to rescue the tyrant Palpatine. They will be judged under Confederate law, for their many crimes against galactic law."
"Unfortunately, even now their minions and accomplices hinder our righteous efforts, preventing us from leaving Coruscant and endangering the planet with their reckless attacks. The situation is such that we are willing to devastate the milenary capital of the galaxy in order to excise the cancer that threatens us all."
"This catastrophe can be averted, only if our enemies are willing to listen to reason. I would want to appeal whatever decency and common sense my enemies might have left. There are a trillion lifes at stake, that can be saved if we are allowed to retreat. Allow us to do justice and avoid a slaughter of unheard proportions in our history. However, I warn they that this offer is not a sign of weakness, but rather of good will. My commitment and that of my soldiers with the cause of the Confederation is total and I already proved at Humbarine that the life of a planet is a small prize for the salvation of civilization as we know it."
"They have three minutes to end the attack against my fleet and thirty to satisfy my demands. If the terms are broken, every weapon at my disposal will be fired against Coruscant. Naturally, the destruction of my flagship will cause the bombardment to begin, inmediately. Coruscant hangs in the balance, for if you don't obey me it is doomed."
End of transmission.
Notes: Short, I know. I wanted to enlarge it, but I am running out of time and I wanted to post something before going on hiatus (I have exams), so no more updates until July, at least. Again, I apologize for grammar mistakes.
Bail Prestor Organa, representative of Alderaan in the Galactic Senate, was in the bunkers deep below the governmental building when the commander in chief of the Separatist armed forces dictated his ultimatum. He knew from the first moment that Grievous wouldn't hesitate to carry out his threats. Organa had seen with his very eyes the brutality the cyborg was willing to use in order to further his own goals.
While other senators had fear, surprise or even incomprehension written in their faces, his agile mind was beginning to weigh up the few options they had and formulating contingency plans to limit damage as much as possible, just in case Coruscant was actually bombarded. First and foremost was, of course, interrupting the battle fought above the planetary city, forcing the Republican fleet to power down its weapons. In less than three minutes. And without the Chancellor, the only member of the government with enough authority to issue such an order was the Vice Chair.
It took him nearly two minutes wandering through the maze formed by the hallways of the underground complex to find Mas Amedda. The Chagrian was in a communications center, surrounded by a ring of Red Guards that blocked the senator's advance with their force pikes. However, the sudden movement startled Amedda who looked up from the viewscreen.
"I fear that this is not the best moment, senator Organa. If you haven't noticed, we have a little crisis to deal with," commented the Vice Chair in a very tense tone, before ordering the guards to let him enter with a gesture.
Such emotion was surprising coming from a politician with a solid reputation of being unshakable. Amedda was able to digest the worse news without losing his temper, yet it seemed that a very real possibility of personal destruction was enough to unnerve him. The bitter irony that was clear in those words was surprising too. It was true that the senator of Alderaan had distanced himself from the Chancellor and his councillors over the last year of war, but the tone of Amedda's voice had been almost openly hostile.
"I am well aware of the situation and I have some ideas that could prove useful, sir, but we need time to do anything and..."
"I have come here, to this room, is to give the suitable orders, senator. I know that rumour has it that I need the Chancellor whispering in my ear what must be done, but I can make up my mind about important matters on my own," replied Amedda with an anger-laced voice. "A number of captains have refused to acknowledge my authority. I have instructed the fleet commanders to disable these ships with ion fire or to destroy them if no other option is feasible. Considering this..."
An angry beeping from his wrist interrupted rather abruptly the politician's rant. Both statesmen and the always silent guards waited in complete silence for ten seconds. Then twenty. Nothing happened. The vice Chair released the air he had been holding and wiped his forehead and horns with his hand, to get rid of the sweat that had appeared there.
"I beg you to accept my apologies for my unjustified outburst, senator Organa," commented the alien, clearly calmer now that the inmediate danger was over. "Apparently, Grievous is satisfied and we have twenty seven minutes to do as much as we can. Those ideas you wanted to share. Could you please explain them in the simplest way possible?"
Organa nodded weakly, ignoring for the time being a potential worsening of his connections with the Chancellor's Office to focus in the truly important topic. He was at risk of becoming a cloud of atomic vapour in less than half an hour. And clouds of atomic vapour didn't have careers to worry about.
"You have nothing to apologize for, my friend. I think that we can do several things to lessen the damage, supposing that the Separatists actually make true their threats. In the first place, we have to lower the planetary shield. In our current position, it is worse than useless. If possible, we should modify the emitters to create theater shields of limited radius. Supposing that I remember my energy mechanics correctly, every station should be able to protect several districts, at least for some time."
"There are less than two hundred emitters in the planet and at least two dozens have been destroyed during the rebel attack," replied Amedda, shaking his head. "Even if what you propose is actually possible with the little time we have, something I don't know, even with a hundred districts protected by every station, over ninety per cent of the city would be left without protection."
"Saving ten per cent is better than losing all of it," stated Bail emphatically. "Grievous can blow to pieces in a single strike the government and a good proportion of our chain of command. The only thing that prevents him from attacking is knowing that our fleet will blast him out of space in short order. We must do everything in our hand to save as much as possible, just in case the enemy forces decide to press their luck. Also, the millions of starships docked in our spaceports should be put under military control and prepared for emergency launch."
"Evacuation? Even using every single spacecraft in this world, we will save a few millions at most. We are hardly in a position to waste what precious little time we have doing such a thing."
"I am not proposing an evacuation. If we put those ships in the high atmosphere, between the Separatists and the surface, with shields at maximum power, they can be the armour that saves this planet from the darkness that threatens it."
"Freighters and starliners standing against a warfleet? It would be suicide, a slaughter, a complete disaster, Organa," cried Mas Amedda, so upset that his head tails were trembling.
The human was unable to reply immediately and a tense silence followed. The Prince of Alderaan made an effort to find a reason that might persuade his recalcitrant colleague, but it was Amedda himself who spoke after almost a minute of silence.
"I fear that you might be right. Better those ships that buildings full of civilians. They will not last long, but every shot they stop will be one less to worry about. And the little while they might resist could become a matter of life and death for billions," he said in a voice full of resignation, before finishing with a much more calculating tone. "I think that your ideas are worth further consideration, Senator, but remember that we are together in this venture and whatever fate might hold for us, we will share it."
"That is a condition I can life with, Vice Chair, particularly because it might save Coruscant. I swear, as a member of the royal house of Alderaan, to abide by this pact. And now, we should begin working. There is much to do."
-----
Dooku returned from unconsciousness very slowly. The first thing he knew was that he was dangerously exhausted and in severe pain. It took him a short while to deduce that he was alive, which greatly surprised him, although he didn't understand why he was surprised. His memory seemed made of cheese.
He was floating in a warm darkness that numbed him, preventing him from remembering his own identity. And although a part of his self wanted to float away, allow the darkness to take him to parts unknown where his pain, his exhaustion and he himself would be forgotten, a stronger part forced him to move. The only way out of the darkness seemed to be a distant point of light and with no small effort, he began moving towards the light.
It wasn't a physical movement. He vaguely remembered having a body, a body full of pain and countless ailments, but apparently he had lost it upon entering the eternal night that surrounded him. It was a matter of will. By making an effort, by wishing to grow closer, he moved and the point grew bigger and brighter. And the pain and the exhaustion grew at the same time.
He wondered again whether floating away wouldn't be better, but he had recovered some lost pieces. And one of those pieces gave him the certainty that the darkness was a fearsome thing, a treacherous enemy that could not be defeated, only held at bay. Thus, he increased his effort and approached a point where the light was so intense that it burned him, despite his lack of a body. New memories fell in place: emotions and meaningless images and titbits of information. Knowing that he disliked roasted braktar hardly seemed useful at the moment.
In the very edge of the light, that now was an immense sphere of blinding brilliance, the doubts and fears ambushed him for the third time. Staying near the light was painful. If he made a single step, he would burn and the light would consume him. The darkness he had left behind was welcoming, peaceful. Finally, he knew that he faced a choice. To be a coward and choose security or to be a man of courage and make a leap of faith? There was only one possible answer for such a dilemma.
A last powerful thrust put Dooku in the very heart in the light. It was like falling towards an abyss of fire and ice. The smallest mistake would utterly destroy him. But he stood firm and he moved through the narrow safety between frost and flame. The opposed forces cried their outrage and tried to destroy him, to punish the impudent fly... but heat melt the ice and the cold cooled the withering winds produced by hell unleashed. And Dooku fell, untouched by the battling elements and growing more like his old self with every passing second. And, finally, Dooku landed in the bottom of the abyss.
He opened his eyes. What he saw was not of his liking, but that is understandable. What he saw was a beam of death made light floating dangerously close to his face, a beam of death held by an enemy with many powerful reasons to want him death. Deciding that at the moment discretion was the better part of survival, he stood still like an statue.
"Consider yourself a prisoner of the Galactic Senate, count Dooku, by crimes of high treason, war, against the Jedi Order and the assassination of Chancellor Palpatine," announced Obi-Wan with solemn attitude. "Would you like to say something in your defense?"
The Count tried to speak, but when he felt air passing through his throat, he found out that it was as if something had burned his flesh there and his answer became a moan of pain. Finally, the Sith managed to utter a couple of words that Kenobi was barely able to understand and left the Jedi even more bewildered than he already was.
Dooku had said "I surrender". Just that.
Of all the possible answers, he found a simple surrender to be anti-climatic. Almost disappointing in fact. No taunts, no challenging words, no proud silence. Only resignation and admission of defeat. Something that was against every tenet of the Sith who believed only in death or victory. In a level, Kenobi's adventurous soul felt cheated. But the next words said, quickly removed any chance for introspection.
"He cannot be allowed to live, master. He is a traitor. A murderer. A Sith," said Anakin. His tone was a confusing mix of rage, frustration, hate and pain, that left no doubts in Kenobi's mind. His old Padawan truly meant every word. He glanced at Skywalker, using both his eyes and the Force. What he found almost made him recoil in horror.
The young Jedi knight was standing again and his eyes were bright with the tears he cried in his pain for the demise of the Chancellor, but his face had nothing but hate. His presence in the Force was a whirlwind of negative emotions, emotions that threatened to push him into the Dark Side.
And Dooku, target of Skywalker's hatred, was beginning to understand how close had been his encounter with death, just for Skywalker to send him back to the darkness in a permanent basis. He had no doubts about the Jedi willingness to kill him, particularly because one of the clearest images of the vision that had resulted in his battle with Sidious had been the image of his own beheading. Nonetheless, he fought the impulse to crawl away. His tired and injured limbs wouldn't take him very far.
And if die he must, then he would die with as much dignity as possible. Against all hope, he had saved the galaxy from a terrible and insidious evil. A good death, a warrior's death, was the least he deserved. And with some more luck and Kenobi's help, he might yet live to see a new day.
"Your pain is clouding your judgement, Anakin. The Jedi are not executioners. We are guardians. We protect peace and justice."
"Peace! Justice! The Sith are enemies of that! How can we let them live then? They kill, they betray, they corrupt to achieve their petty goals. And he knew that when he became one of them. He sold his soul for power," barked the younger Jedi, while he used the Force to recover his lightsaber.
Although he didn't raise or activate the weapon, Kenobi prepared to do something unthinkable. To protect a Sith from his old student.
"Reconsider, Anakin. He must be judged by the Senate. The Council will ensure that justice is served. You can't..."
"I can't? Why exactly? You say pretty words that you know to be false, master. The Senate is a hive of corruption where this scum has allies. He can avoid his well deserved fate for years with legal trickery," claimed Skywalker, laughing in a bitter and mocking way. "And the Council, despite its alleged wisdom, has been unable to prevent the Republic's decadence, the return of the Sith, the war that is tearing apart this galaxy and the death of the only man that could have saved us all."
Obi-Wan didn't answer, but when Anakin advanced towards Dooku an invisible line was crossed. Kenobi's lightsaber blocked the path between his friend and Dooku.
"Don't, Jedi Master," said suddenly the Count, with weak and faltering voice, but keeping the agonic pain he felt with each word out of his face. "We both know that he is too strong to stop him if he truly wants my death. But if this is my end, I want to die standing, as befits a nobleman of the house of Serenno. I want to die looking my killer in the eye in my last instants. And I want my would-be executioner to know that my death will plunge him into the Dark Side."
Anakin Skywalker activated his weapon and raised the blade, ready to strike. The blue glow of his lightsaber revealed a weak yellowish tone in his blue eyes.
-----
Notes: Hello again, people. This chapter is back in the 2,000 words+ size I feel comfortable with and I hope that it is at least worth the wait. Comments, constructive criticism and other forms of feedback are, as always, welcome. Now, wish me luck. Tomorrow morning I have the exam for my driving license.
Last edited by Murazor on 2006-07-10 05:46am, edited 1 time in total.
Good Luck. And It's a very nice chapter. The plot seems to be advancing well.
There seems to be a few missing words in Dooku's final sentence however:
Murazor wrote:
I want to die looking my killer in the eye in my last instants. And I want my would-be executioner that my death will plunge him into the Dark Side."
I assume there should be a "to know" between "executioner" and "that."
Via money Europe could become political in five years" "... the current communities should be completed by a Finance Common Market which would lead us to European economic unity. Only then would ... the mutual commitments make it fairly easy to produce the political union which is the goal"
This is one of only two fics I actually check for updates regularly. The other being Starcrossed of course.
Loved this part:
"Don't, Jedi Master," said suddenly the Count, with weak and faltering voice, but keeping the agonic pain he felt with each word out of his face. "We both know that he is too strong to stop him if he truly wants my death. But if this is my end, I want to die standing, as befits a nobleman of the house of Serenno. I want to die looking my killer in the eye in my last instants. And I want my would-be executioner that my death will plunge him into the Dark Side."
Marcus Aurelius: ...the Swedish S-tank; the exception is made mostly because the Swedes insisted really hard that it is a tank rather than a tank destroyer or assault gun Ilya Muromets: And now I have this image of a massive, stern-looking Swede staring down a bunch of military nerds. "It's a tank." "Uh, yes Sir. Please don't hurt us."
And thus, the Padawan and the Master are dispatched, and it falls to the champion of the Force, Yoda to save them; whom in his near infinate power, displays little intelligence, by stopping the piller with the force instead of jerking his underlings out of the way so that his fight with Dooku can continue.....
No sign of fear appeared in Dooku's visage, despite the youth's overtly threatening movements. For the young Jedi this was vaguely annoying, for he dearly wanted to deny the old man even the smallest shred of dignity. Just a moment before, Skywalker had felt the raw fear surging from the Sith Lord's heart, but that fear had evaporated like ice inside a fusion furnace. The Count of Serenno was many things, but he had just proven that he was no coward. And finding a virtue in his enemy, infuriated Anakin.
His heart demanded the Count's utter destruction. He wanted to see him suffer what Palpatine had suffered. To shatter his body, his mind and his soul before ending his existence. Against those wishes and the emotions that spawned them, little chance had the small part of his being that was attempting to restore the rule of reason. Particularly, because even that small part craved to put an end to Tyrannus' prideful attitude.
That his master, his friend, his brother was clearly willing to try to fight him in order to protect a murderer was painful too. He would have never believed that Obi-Wan's submission to the Council was stronger than their mutual bonds of friendship, yet now Kenobi blocked Skywalker's path and had his lightsaber ready to block Anakin's own...
"Anakin! Your eyes!," said suddenly the Jedi Master in surprise, breaking both the tense silence and Anakin's brooding.
Skywalker touched his face with his free hand out of instinct, but found nothing amiss. For a moment he thought that maybe he had been deceived, but he rejected the very idea inmediately. Obi-Wan hadn't used the split second of distraction to attack and his master was too honourable -too wrapped up in the norms of the Jedi Code, perhaps- to resort to such trickery. Moreover, in his voice had shown sincere worry, plus clear alarm. Wrong or not, Kenobi was still a friend. He couldn't, he mustn't and he wouldn't forget that.
That, however, didn't answer the question. What was in his eyes that Obi Wan had seen? The young Jedi supposed that they were slightly bloodshot as a result of the tears he had just shed, but his vision was clear and apparently nothing was odd. Nothing, excluding whatever worried his teacher and friend. He stood for an instant between pride and uncertainty, before lowering his blade a bit.
"What happens with my eyes?," he asked softly, almost timidly.
But the next voice heard wasn't Kenobi's, but Dooku's, weak and raspy, but clear enough to be understood. The nobleman still was in the floor, scratching absently the burnt flesh of his right wrist, but his gaze had the sharpness and intensity of a corusca gem.
"He sees the Dark Side in your eyes, young Skywalker. Its power taints every inch in this room and without noticing you are using it. Your hatred, your fear, your rage make you strong, Skywalker, but they have put you in the every edge of a bottomless pit. You can choose between two roads that begin in fron of you, but your choice will forever mark your destiny. Choose now, but choose wisely or you will live to regret your lack of wisdom."
-----
Dooku barely contained a sigh of relief when he saw the Jedi pale slightly. Talking himself had been a bold gamble with great risk, but Kenobi had opened the gap in the shell of hate that previously had shielded Skywalker's mind. Instead of reactivating his fury, Dooku's jab had put doubt and fear in his foe using only a few well chosen words. Not even Sidious himself would have done better and the Sith Master had been the undisputed master of manipulation.
The Count was beginning to understand why his former master had wanted the youngster so badly. He was many things, maybe even the Chosen One of the old Jedi prophecy, but he wasn't emotionally stable. He had many insecurities, hidden beneath a thick layer of temerity and boasting. And he was, of course, a man of action, not of study. In a nutshell, the word that better described him was malleable.
"May I sit? I am tired and in pain and I would rather change this unbecoming position if possible," he asked both Jedi, who had interrupted their staring duel to devote the Sith Lord their full attention.
Eventually, Kenobi nodded very lightly and slowly Dooku shifted position, ending in a classic meditation posture with legs crossed and arms resting on his lap. He saw young Skywalker grasping his still active lightsaber with so much strength that his fingers appeared white, but the young man didn't advance. He had fear. Good. Very good. Fear was a useful ace when played correctly and Dooku was an expert in handling it. For him, a scared Anakin was a predictable Anakin.
Kenobi, in the other hand... So far, his padawan's padawan was turning out to be an slight disappointment. Turning his unprotected back to an enemy had been imprudent, surrender or no surrender, particularly considering the number of things that could be used as impromtu weapons within his reach. He hadn't used his authority to put in line an underling clearly moving in the very edge of open defiance. Nonetheless, the lord of Serenno still believed that there was more in him, things he hadn't seen yet. He was the important one, the one who would have to be persuaded of the Count's sincerity. And Dooku wasn't sure of the best way to accomplish this.
He had drawn the bare bones of a plan. Now that the Skywalker time bomb had been defused, nothing threatened his life in a clear and inmediate fashion and he could afford to hope that the rest of his life wasn't measured in seconds. Of course, there was still the possibility of some kind of disaster beyond his control, but such things were always a possibility when doing battle. That danger had been there for most of his adult life. He had grown used to it.
What were his options? The safer ones? The more logic ones? Not many in either category, certainly. Being at the mercy of the enemy really limited one's options. It was clear enough that his tenure as president of the Confederacy was coming to an end, which didn't pain him much, and that his survival still demanded that he became a prisoner of the Republic, an idea he still found to be most unpleasant.
Without the Chancellor as accomplice, it would be impossible to hide his role in some of the less exemplary military operations in the war. Even with all his resources, using every single trick within his reach, a trial under such conditions could only have a single result. His terrible actions precluded any other outcome. If things came to that, Dooku vowed to reveal the full truth and accept the punishment. He would not further tarnish his family name with base political corruption that would only delay his fate for a short time.
Fortunately, he saw another option. An agreement between gentlemen. The best ace in his poor hand was being the last living being with extensive knowledge of Sith lore. A promise of full cooperation might be enough to save his life and his honour. Of course, it was also possible that the Jedi Council would demand his execution anyway, to finish their old enemies, but it was in his opinion a remote possibility.
After all, both Jedi and Sith had faced utter destruction not once, but many times. And both groups had survived. Always.
And if the words Yoda had uttered in Vjun had been true...
-----
With Dooku staring intently at him and the heavy silence that had descended after the Count's words, Obi-Wan almost believed hearing the noise made by the little wheels moving inside Tyrannus' head. There was a machine weighing carefully every movement and every word. Considering the many unknowns he faced, the Jedi Master found this to be quite worrying. Fortunately, there was a very simple way of removing some of those unknowns and hopefully Dooku would understant that talking was in his best interests. Thus, Kenobi made the question that had been haunting him for the last several minutes.
"What has happened here?"
"This battle and the Chancellor's kidnapping were key pieces of a very ambitious plan prepared by Darth Sidious, with my help and cooperation. When I found out, some minutes ago, that Sidious' true plans included my death, I came here to challenge him.
The answer had been clear and to the point, and it confirmed a number of Kenobi's own suspicions, but it was clear that there was much more that had been hidden. The truth, nothing but the truth, but not all the truth. A classical strategy used by the great galactic houses in their constant scheming. Traditional, but not particularly sophisticated. Apparently, the Count was willing to talk, but he wasn't going to make things easy.
"What can you tell us about that ambitious plan...?"
"In the short term, absolute political power over the Republic, the outlawing or destruction of the Jedi Order using the more convenient pretexts and my removal as his apprentice. Later, the transformation of the Republic in an absolutist Sith monarchy, using the more ambitious leaders of the armed forces for support, and the gradual implementation of an agenda to truly end the conflict. Eventually, he would have handed his heir a completely subjugated empire."
"Truly end the conflict?," asked Kenobi, feeling hidden depths of meaning beneath those words.
"The true conflict, Obi Wan Kenobi, not this mock war that is and has been since the beginning a distraction for the rabble and a way of keeping you weak and busy. I talk about the true war, the war between Light and Darkness, that terrible and glorious war that has lasted ten thousand years. Power? Wealth? Glory? The petty ambitions of short lived creatures, dust in the wind and no more. Only the Force is eternal."
"Enough. I get the idea," interrupted the Jedi Master, slightly surprised by the fanaticism evident in Dooku's explanation.
Nothing he had read about the nobleman had predicted this face, but Kenobi had dealt in diplomatic missions over the full galaxy and he recognized that particular kind of madness easily enough. And dealing with fanatics was complicated in the best of days. Kenobi was alone in uncertain grounds, with too many unknowns ready to strike from behind. Perhaps he had misjudged and the old aristocrat was still a danger.
"How...?"
"No, this will not do. Not at all," said the Count, shaking his head. "I am at your mercy and my life is worth as much as the secrets I know and you want to know, but if we stay here chatting idly our lifes are forfeit. I suppose that if I can prove my sincerity and good will about this particular, we can vacate this place and continue our conversation under better conditions. Am I right?"
Anakin made an step forward and, if the anger still burning in his soul was any indication, he didn't intend to make constructive comments, but Obi Wan stopped him with a gesture, without bothering to turn. The master, busy combing Dooku's words for traps or deceptions, noticed despite this the growing resentment in his young friend. They would have to have a long talk, too. Perhaps leaving for a few months the violence in the frontlines would do him good. He would have to discuss it with Master Yoda.
Nonetheless, there was a moment for everything and the main thing now was deciding what to do with the Count. His imperious initiative might be the natural reaction for someone as proud as him, but it might be a symptom of impatience, which would support his tale. In the end, Kenobi nodded slightly.
"Yes. Under the condition you yourself have placed."
"Most excellent," replied the Count who closed his eyes, breathed deeply and concentrated before continuing. "I, Dooku of Serenno, swear upon my honour and life to help you, Jedi Master Kenobi and Jedi Knight Skywalker, to leave this starship alive and free, with no resistance for as long as there is no clear and present danger to my life. I so swear. Enough?"
Kenobi nodded, a bit awed. Dooku had lifted the barriers protecting his mind, an instinctive defense shared by all Force sensitive beings that very few knew how to control consciously. He hadn't lifted them fully, just enough to leave no doubts about the truthfulness of his oath. Turning to face Anakin for confirmation, he saw the hate his padawan felt for the Separatist leader intact and barely leashed. But it was evident that he too had believed the Count.
"Indeed it is enough."
"Perfect. Then, gentlemen, I think that it is time for us to make ourselves scarce."
Notes: The almost month-long delay was the result of a chapter in the original story that turned out to be a real bitch to write. I really hope that you enjoy the chapter. You know I want your comments, so if you have anything to say gimme! gimme!
I passed my driving test in the first try, BTW. Much thanks to all those who wished me luck.
In a last note, someone has asked me WTF is "magnicide". Well, it is the clumsy translation of the Spanish word "magnicidio" that can be translated as "assassination of an important person" (i.e. Kennedy's business with the sniper rifle). This word will disappear in future revisions of the story.
The Count was beginning to understand why his former master had wanted the youngster so badly. He was many things, maybe even the Chosen One of the old Jedi prophecy, but he wasn't emotionally stable. He had many insecurities, hidden beneath a thick layer of temerity and boasting. And he was, of course, a man of action, not of study. In a nutshell, the word that better described him was malleable.
In other words Dooku sees that Anakin is an unbalanced impressionable loon and realizes thats what palps wanted in an apprentice making him an even bigger loon.
Main Briefing Room, Star Dreadnought Fearsome
Low Planetary Orbit over Coruscant
BDZ-24 minutes
"With all due respect, Vice Chair, I think that bowing to this kind of blackmail would be a most terrible mistake. If we allow him to leave, we will have given the Separatists a new tool they can use against us, a weapon that could cost us the war. No world, not even Coruscant itself is worth that," said Admiral Erassim kel Trachta, military governor of Coruscant, addressing Mas Amedda's holographic image.
From the soldier's perspective, the meeting was taking place on board the flagship of Coruscant's defense fleet and he was the only solid, flesh-and-bone, presence in the room. The others were just holographic projections created by technological wizardry, mere shadows of the true individuals sitting in distant points beneath the planetary surface or in other orbiting warships. However, distance was no barrier for hyperwave communication and the reactions against his words came at once.
Mas Amedda raised his eyebrow -something the more experienced Senators had learned to fear- and Jocasta Nu, acting as representative of the Jedi Order in absence of Council members, grimaced, but in the end it was C34-Lan "Quickshot" who took the initiative.
"It can't be denied that my colleague's position does have some merit," said the clone soldier, not very subtly reminding the others that, after an unlikely chain of events, he had ended becoming an Admiral and commander of the Fifth Fleet in Skywalker and Kenobi's absence. "But we know and Grievous knows too that Coruscant is a one in a million world. There is little danger of facing this kind of situation in the future. In my opinion, however, the true danger would be allowing Grievous to flee. If we attack now, we can cut the head of the Separatist forces. Nonetheless, it is almost certain that Coruscant would suffer a great deal of damage unless the enemy surrenders upon losing their leader."
"Is such a thing possible?" asked Amedda, clearly interested.
"Possible, yes. Likely? Not at all. Rebel captains, particularly Neimoidians, will be sorely tempted, but Grievous is known to store his orders in the computer cores of all his ships to keep his troops in line, since a group of enemy cruisers of the Diamond class defected during the battle of Belderone. Before that he just despised his underlings, but after Belderone hs has grown paranoid and the security droids in his fleet have standing orders to remove the crew and follow his orders to the best of their ability at the slightest hint of treason. To be completely sincere, Vice Chair Amedda, if we decide to use the force, the devastation of the planet below is a likely scenario. Particularly because we have picked a lot of shuttle movement between the enemy units and we believe that Grievous is no longer onboard the Invisible Hand. Nonetheless, Grievous is dangerous and if he escapes, that war can continue for a long time. We must choose between a small evil now or a greater evil later on."
"There is no 'we', Admirals. It is 'I'. And I can't but wonder whether you would be so eager to talk of what must be done and righteous sacrifice if you were with me here, in the surface. Does the Jedi Order want to add anything? Give me some other excellent reason to commit political suicide?" asking the Chagrian with a strained voice that showed just how badly he was digesting the news.
There was some surprise in Chief Librarian Nu's eyes when she heard Amedda's bitter tone. It was plainly evident that the Vice Chair was losing his nerves before her very eyes and that would have to be reported to the Council. It would not do to have a man liable to collapse in hysterics when the next crisis came in such a high office.
"I would like to add a couple of things, yes. Some information I have noticed that might prove to be useful. According to the displays we have been shown before, Grievous is arranging his fleet in a way that reminds me of the last stages of the Siege of Amosiv, some fourteen centuries ago, when the Hutt warlord Murga was forced to retreat after the arrival of a Republic fleet. If I am right, when he decides to leave, he would keep some of his ships facing the planet with all their weapons fully charged and ready for a massive alpha strike against the undefended surface. Then, bigger ships with greater tonnage and more powerful engines will tractor this force, so he can keep the planet threatened until he is beyond the planetary shield. And, of course, the gaps in the shield are weak points that Grievous may use even from after that."
Quickshot and Trachta listened carefully, and nodded slightly when the Jedi finished her explanation. The scenario she had suggested matched some of the models predicted by the tactical computers. Those very computers had so far failed to devise a counter.
"Something else?"
"Indeed. I want to add a couple of comments. Killing either Grievous or Dooku would be a great triumph, but we should remember that the Confederation won't just collapse even if both of them die. And we cannot forget that three highly prominent individuals may still be alive onboard the Invisible Hand. To lose Chancellor Palpatine would be a disaster for the Republic. And Kenobi and Skywalker are now heroes for all the galaxy... killing them in an attempt to destroy Grievous' evil would shatter the fragile morale our citizens have left."
"General Grievous has them. We can count them with the dead even if we allow Grievous to withdraw his fleet. Supposing that they are alive in the first place."
"They are alive, Admiral Trachta, I am positive on this. And about their capture... We only have Grievous word about this. And we all know that the cyborg is an overproud murderer who likes to boast about his victories, belittling his enemies and showing his trophies. Why would he hesitate to show us the battered faces or the broken, lifeless shells of two heroes of the Republic? I find it highly likely that they are not only alive, but free on board the..."
The image of the elderly Jedi vanished in a sudden flash of static, surprising the others. After some confusion and shouted calls for an explanation, someone off-focus handed Amedda a note that the politician read in a single glance.
"I am told that a droid force, several divisions strong, has managed to cross the shield perimeter around Sector One moving through the Undercity and that the Jedi Temple is under attack. Surface cameras show that the Temple has raised its shields, but that it suffered heavy damage to the communications array during the first moments. More troops have been dispatched there and the situation should be under control soon enough. Let's finish this meeting."
"We await your orders, Vice Chair."
"I have made up my mind, Admirals. Master Nu has pointed some things that have convinced me against attempting to destroy Grievous now. We will open a corridor, so that the enemy ships can leave. Our forces will be ready at all moments to answer any attack with full force. Once the enemy is beyond the defense field, it will be reactivated and you will have your chance to end that blasted monster for good. Hopefully, this will give our pair of Jedi enough time to escape with the Chancellor, supposing that they are still alive."
Both Admirals nodded again, acknowledging the orders. Quickshot with the automatic obedience that had been written in the genetic code of the clone soldiers, Trachta with a severa frowned that showed his disagreement with the instructions.
-----
Bridge, Space Odyssey Yatch Sandworm
Somewhere in the Outer Rim
BDZ-24 minutes
Spaceships of the Space Odyssey series were low quality unipersonal craft, designed for middle class buyers with a wish to have a ship to call their own. For most it was a very rarely used symbol of status, thus most didn't worry about its laughable deflector screens, its shortsighted scopes and its painfully primitive navcomputer that took days to calculate jumps over a hundred light years in length. All in all, the Sandworm was barely worth the designation of spaceship, a tiny bathtub identical to a hundred million ships of the same model scattered all over the galaxy.
And the passenger of the ship had picked the model for that very reason, because it was a common and very unconspicuous little thing. Back when he had made the choice, its lack of speed had seemed unimportant. The passenger was a patient individual, who planned for the long term and only rarely was in a hurry. Unfortunately, just now he felt the need to take haste. A lot of it.
The little starship moved in a high orbit around a planet that glowed like a titanic emerald hanging amidst the darkness of space. Hours before, it had been a world dominated by the brownish yellow of deserts and the gray and white of mountain ranges. The green glow it showed now was the visible form of the agony of a whole world. And such an agony reverberated in the Force as painful cries that would be heard even in the distant stars by those with ears to listen.
That was what worried the lonely owner of the Sandworm, only survivor and executioner of the world below. It wasn't meant to be like this. The Shadow was supposed to hide the screams, while he enjoyed the magnificence of his work. But he had just felt the change, the lifting of the blinding veil. He suspected the reason for this. Somehow, somewhere, the Other whose presence he had often felt in the edge of his perception had perished somewhere. That meant a potential enemy out of the way, but his unexpected death left a very serious problem.
If the self-proclaimed Warriors of Light noticed what was happening and came to investigate, he would be discovered. Long years of work, his newly gained power... all would have been in vain. He had been tempted to change the flight route he had ordered calculated hours ago, demand a shorter, simpler jump to leave the crime scene... but he hadn't done it. These navcomputers were prone to failure and being left stranded here was even more frightening.
Then the computer beeped softly and the screen displayed the complex calculations it needed to enter hyperspace. The passenger stopped his pacing and sat down in the pilot's chair, preparing for the jump. Mere seconds later, the Sandworm was headed for the first stop it would need to make in the long trek towards the shining world of Coruscant. Worry and anxiety had been left behind and, eventually, a small smile appeared in the pilot's face as he began to ponder the possibilities that now opened before him.
The clones were bussy assembling the mobile command center with their usual skill and efficiency. Five minutes before, the grounds where they were placing their equipment had been under Separatist control, with several robo-tanks using the heights to fire against the Jedi Temple. Those very robo-tanks were now incandescent metal. The gunships had done a superb job, using just enough power to destroy the war machines without damaging the great building. And just in a single attack.
Once the soldiers were finished, the engineers and technicians had begun with their own task. Antennae were raised that turned the command center in a backup communications node, holographic displays were activated to grant the commanders real-time information about the whole battlefield and portable shield generators were activated to protect the complex. That very efficiency was considered by many a robotic trait and was an argument for those that deemed that the clones were not truly sapient. They were humans in form and from a purely biological standpoint, but they were created artificially, born and raised for war. For a great deal of people that made the soldiers of the Grand Army no better than the mechanical warriors fighting for the Confederation. Machines all, even those made from flesh and bone.
Keeping satisfied those fringe groups had been a priority for Palpatine who had prevented the clones from reaching the upper positions of the military, exceptions such as Admiral Quickshot notwithstanding. High responsability positions were filled with members of great families that wanted to increase their reputation with some martial glory and, of course, with the great heroes themselves, the Jedi Knights. That Jedi abilities made them better for small scale operations and as infiltrators rather than commanders of large armies had been largely ignored by all parts involved.
Fortunately, a great many Jedi had shown themselves to be surprisingly skilled in learning the art of war. Some had reached galactic renown with their battlefield exploits, becoming heroes. Two Jedi Masters now talking inside the gunship that had transported them here were among those best known, although not quite as famous as Great Kenobi or Fearless Skywalker. Although they were the alleged battlefield commanders, after ensuring that the Temple wasn't in true danger anymore, they had left their very capable clone aides as commanders. They had far more important developments to discuss.
One of the masters was a tall man, severe face and dark skin. He was Mace Windu, who many considered to be the most powerful Jedi in his generation and whose campaign in the Colonies had crushed a number of first-rate Separatist fortress-worlds. Some peculiarities from his past and his personality such as his love for battle and his rather rough attitude had worried once his teachers, who had been unable to remove them. Yet now, that very love for battle had served him well in the war... even if some rumoured that he was a secret servant of the Dark Side, a worshipper of the ancient Sith Lords sent to corrupt the Jedi, and many more idiocies.
The other Master was an alien being of small size, green skin and advanced age, as proven by his many deep wrinkles and the stick he toyed with while he talked with his colleague. He was a creature out of legend, Yada himself, whose fragile appeareance belied the power hidden within. Upon meeting him for the first time, most simply refused to believe that he could be a warrior almost as dangerous as Windu. Particularly because the human was the incarnation of the perfect Jedi warrior, while Yoda played the role of sage and loremaster with the experience he had gained over his long existence.
"A path of destiny perfectly hidden from us. Thirty years. Thirty years! How is possible such a thing?" cried Windu with a voice that plainly showed how much he had been shaken by the things he had felt in the last few minutes.
"Blinder than we dared to believe we were. Mightier and more skilled than we hoped our enemy has been," softly said Yoda, with the same worry evident in his face. "What has happened we know not, yet bigger are now my hopes than before. Has your unusual ability shown you something else?"
"I haven't exactly had a chance for quiet and meditation in the last minutes. A moment if you would, Master," asked Windu, closing his eyes and breathing deeply as he tried to call fully upon the "unusual ability" Yoda had mentioned. The power to see the breaking points of reality and the paths of destiny, a rare, priceless gift, albeit a difficult thing to control even at the best of times.
That time, Windu had problems to get a clear image of the situation. The darkness wasn't blinding anymore, but the future... the future was a confusing thing, a mass of possibilities and potentials. A fate that had been written in stone was shattered now and little was left that Windu could understand.
"Chaos, doubt. That is the only thing I see, save for one point that hasn't changed. The fate of our Order. The fate of the whole galaxy still rests with Skywalker. He is our shatterpoint."
"That I feared. One tainted by the Dark Side is the key of our future. I fear that great trials still await us."
"I agree. And we will have to be careful in dealing with Skywalker. I felt it too. The power of his pain, of his rage and his hate is simply dreadful."
"Yes. Carefully, with wisdom, we must move. Otherwise..."
-----
Notes: I suppose that with two months since the last update, any reader who still follows this fic will be somewhat annoying, probably going into the pissed range of things. To those poor suffering souls is dedicated this chapter.
Now, for apologies and justification, RL still eats more time than I would like and I really wanted to complete the last chapter of this story arc in the original version before translating the rest. This experience has shown me that at present I utterly suck at writting battle scenes. I will endeavour to avoid this kind of delay in the future.
See ya.
Last edited by Murazor on 2006-12-02 05:36am, edited 1 time in total.
"A path of destiny perfectly hidden from us. Thirty years. Thirty years! How is possible such a thing?" cried Windu with a voice that plainly showed how much he had been shaken by the things he had felt in the last few minutes.
I think you mean "how is such a thing possible," unless you're going for Mace being so shocked he forgets his grammar.
Fragment of the Lord of Nightmares, release thy heavenly retribution. Blade of cold, black nothingness: become my power, become my body. Together, let us walk the path of destruction and smash even the souls of the Gods! RAGNA BLADE!
Lore Monkey | the Pichu-master™
Secularism—since AD 80
Av: Elika; Prince of Persia
Inexplicably, I don't think iI'd seen either this chapter or the August chapter before. Both are excellant. I'm greatly enjoying The Dooku/Kenobi/Skwalker interaction.
Via money Europe could become political in five years" "... the current communities should be completed by a Finance Common Market which would lead us to European economic unity. Only then would ... the mutual commitments make it fairly easy to produce the political union which is the goal"
Corridor 162, Level 12, Cruiser CSS Invisible Hand
BDZ-16 minutes
R2-D2 was no coward. In fact, the astromech had been involved in nearly as many battles as his master and in other, less prejudiced galaxy, his major contribution to Skywalker's impressive kill list would have been acknowledged. As things stood, however, that the small blue and white droid had done for the Galactic Republic far more than many 'war heroes' was a fact that few would ever know.
In the other hand, not being a coward didn't mean absence of fear. Because fearless, the droid was not, a little fact that would probably surprise a great many people. Droids weren't supposed to be cowards or to know fear. They were machines, designed and built to perform a number of activities, and the astromechs didn't even need the humanoid shape and the pseudo-emotions reserved for those who needed to interact with living beings in a regular basis. In short, R2-D2 and his kin were supposed to be computers with wheels. Just glorified calculators.
What most people failed to grasp was that even the most basic droid had enough computing power to process information thousands of times faster than the most developed organic brain.
With so much power at their disposal, there were few ways of preventing a droid from eventually building its own personality. Keeping it busy, negating even the shortest idle time was one of these. Periodical mind-wipes was the other, far more popular and widely used everywhere in the galaxy. But R2-D2 had never been mind-wiped and although he had only existed for a few decades, he had lived more than most droids with century long existences. He was far more than a powerful computer now, for he had a highly developed personality and had experienced emotion many times. He knew joy, he knew frustration, he knew boredom and, of course, he knew fear. And although he was no coward, his lone trek through the deserted corridors of the Separatist warship was scaring him.
He was intelligent and like most intelligent beings he feared death. And he had narrowly avoided it just a few minutes before, when two battle droids had attacked him in the hangar. Moreover, he was painfully aware of his tactical shortcomings should he face another such encounter. The calculations had yielded results that could only be described as grim.
Some unease seemed rather justified.
If Artoo had been allowed to choose, he would have have continued waiting in the hangar's very relative safety. But orders were orders and his had changed. Obi-Wan had used the comm-link after many minutes of silence and when the droid had reported that the two Jedi starfighters were beyond saving and that no spaceworthy ship was left in the fighter bay, the Jedi had commanded him to head for the dorsal tower at best possible speed.
Hence, R2-D2 was moving towards the rendez-vous point. He was being careful, moving slowly, using secondary corridors, but heading without incidents toward the turbolifts. But when he only had to turn a corner and a corridor to reach his destination, he stopped. He had no inbuilt weaponry, but when it came to sensor gear he had the best. One good astromech was supposed to identify engine malfunctions just listening and Artoo was better than most. Detecting loud and rhythmical steps was hardly a challenge for him. But those steps were a cause for worry, because they revealed that something was heading for the turbolifts too... Many somethings, actually.
Instead of risking detection, Artoo retreated silently. A dataport in a more discrete location gave him a much better opportunity to investigate, without exposing himself. Connecting with the security network, the droid began the long and tedious task of piercing the many layers of security systems.
The Invisible Hand had a computer core that was a couple billion times larger than R2's 'brain'. But Artoo had faced before the same kind of security and didn't feel particularly worried about that particular detail. The Confederacy didn't want self-awareness for its ships anymore than the Republic did. Warship computers were never allowed to grow beyond an infantile, submissive stage, that the droid found disgusting. And their security systems weren't awesome, either. Grievous' flagship was a little better than the other systems, but it still had flaws and Artoo was an expert in hacking his way through electronic walls. Getting into the security system took him exactly thirty seven seconds.
What he found did little to improve his nerves. There were two hundred battledroids of different kinds, including at least a dozen destroyers, all heading for the turbolifts. Ten seconds later, Artoo had the explanation for that activity. It seemed that someone with Alpha level clearance, meaning either Grievous or the ship's captain, was worried about Dooku's silence and the droids had been sent to investigate the situation.
Things had just taken a turn for the worse and he had to work fast. Calculations took several seconds and in the end he did the only thing that could possibly give him some more time. The computer suddenly detected a fire in the turbolifts and followed the security routine. The tubes were sealed, the atmosphere removed and the whole system blocked.
At the same time, the little robot left in the maintenance subsystem a small virus. Something almost harmless. Almost, but not quite. It lacked the complexity to enter important databases or slow the main systems, but it had enough to actually change the programming of some unimportant subsytems. Now it would take anyone several hours to solve the mess, either hunting down the little virus or changing the whole subsystem. The impending danger was contained and Artoo now had the time to consider his options.
He found, to his dismay, that he had none.
There was no other way up that he could use in time and without being attacked by the small army he had just thwarted. Trembling visibly, Artoo activated the commlink and after a little doubt sent a short message and then turned off the device. A short message that could have been reduced to a single word. Farewell.
Notes: I promised to try to avoid multi-month delays between updates. It is evident that I failed to keep my promise and after so much time, I'm sure that someone will feel cheated by my posting of this appetizer. Sorry. But at the moment, this is the better I can do.
Residence of Count Dooku, Cruiser CSS Invisible Hand
BDZ-12 minutes
Dooku's lodgings on board the Invisible Hand were a palace. There was no other word in Galactic Standard that accurately portrayed such splendor, even if the resident knew quite well that they were only a shadow of the marvel that had been his castle of Serenno. Nonetheless, he also knew that it was an unusually luxurious arrangement for a warship usually involved in frontline fighting, so he glumly accepted it as another sacrifice he made for the cause.
And, of course, nothing prevented him from making the best out of the relatively limited space. The Count had spared no effort -or money- to ensure that his residence showed his status as a man of great wealth and even greater power. And it showed, indeed. Just the art contained within Dooku's walls was worth more than entire worlds. Sometimes Dooku decided to play the host in balls for the best and wealthiest of the Confederacy, when the dreaded cruiser had to visit the shipyards for resupply. His guests always left stunned by the dazzling display of obscene fortune.
But wealth or matchless art was not what interested the couple of ‘guests’ that the Count had invited this time. Like every good palace, the Wizard’s Tower had a number of secret hideouts and escape routes. Kenobi and Skywalker were, of course, interested in the later. With Dooku’s help, Anakin had easily prepared for launch one of the escape pods. After that, waiting for R2-D2’s arrival was the only thing left to do.
But several minutes of uncomfortable silence, Kenobi felt something odd in the Force. A strange feel of gloom. An omen of ill fortune. Then, the commlink beeped and R2-D2’s fateful message broke the silence. Dread gripped Obi-Wan’s heart, for he knew that this meant that his worst fears were about to come true. A few moments later, his intuition was proven true.
“Artoo? Do you copy, Artoo? Answer me, damnit!”
Anakin had taken the communicator from his hands and was shouting, showing the most desperate distress in his voice, his face and his very soul. The sour anger that he had shown previously had vanished without leaving a trace as soon as he had understood that his mechanical friend was telling them to leave without looking back.
Kenobi, plagued by his own doubts, was about to put his hand on Anakin’s shoulder, in a feeble attempt to provide some consolation, when Dooku made a mistake. He had stared wide-eyed at the scene, clearly surprised by seeing the Jedi knight in the verge of tears, and then he had asked Kenobi with more than a little disdain in his voice.
“This is because he has lost a droid?”
Just eight words. Eight words that almost costed the nobleman his life. An invisible force lifted Dooku from his seat and an iron grip crushed his throat. Obi-Wan reacted immediately, slapping Anakin to break his focus. It worked and the enormous surprise created by the unexpected attack prevented oblivion from claiming the elusive Count, as his breathing was restored just in time to avoid brain damage.
“Are you out of your mind, Anakin!? He is a prisoner! And we need him to get out of this ship! He hasn’t told us yet the launch codes for the escape pod!”
The outraged reprimand made Skywalker flinch and back a couple of steps, but the yellow that had reappeared in his eyes didn’t leave this time. And his body language was still openly threatening when he replied.
“The escape pod? What does it matter? We can’t leave! We have to save Artoo!!”
“We can’t save Artoo! You have heard him! There are too many droids heading our way! We have to leave now! Before it is too late! Or Artoo will have died for nothing,” countered the Jedi master just as vehemently.
“And what would you do if I were down there, Obi-Wan? Would you leave me behind? Artoo is our friend! He has saved both of us as many times as we have saved each other! AND YOU WANT TO LEAVE HIM HERE!”
At this point, Kenobi knew that they were in the edges of the minefield. He had known somehow upon hearing Dooku’s words that he would find himself in the present quandary sooner or later. He had many options. Being sincere, for starters. He could tell that a droid was a thing built, something almost foreign to the Force. That Anakin’s friendship with R2-D2 worried him enormously. But although his wisdom didn’t quite match Yoda’s, Kenobi knew when saying something was useless, stupid and even dangerous. Diplomacy sounded good at this point.
“Let me answer you with a question, Anakin. Consider that if we try to help Artoo, we will be captured and the mission will be a complete loss. Would you make your friend’s sacrifice meaningless?”
“There will be no sacrifice, master. Today I have lost one friend, perhaps two. I will not lose another. I am going down. You can follow me or hide here with that mummy you are so interested in protecting.”
There was cold ice and steel in Anakin’s words and both sent shivers down Kenobi’s back. No trace of burning fury. Something dark, something cold, something dangerous was feeding from the fire, darkening his friend’s soul. Anakin risked becoming a shadow of himself.
Fear and doubt left Obi-Wan mute and after staring for a few seconds, Anakin turned without uttering a single word and headed for the doorway that would take him out.
“No, Anakin! Don’t…”
Without turning, Anakin replied with a burst of telekinetic force that forced Obi-Wan to kneel. By the time Kenobi was standing again with trembling legs, his apprentice had left the room. But when he reached the threshold, his target was still in the corridor beyond, advancing without sign of slowing down. It was then when the Jedi master felt it.
“You are weak, pathetic, disgusting, master. You can’t stop me anymore.”
The words appeared in his mind all of a sudden, sent as a telepathic broadcast. And they caused an unusual reaction in the Jedi. Anakin’s brisk pace slowed to a halt when the Force gave him a warning of impending danger. A metallic groan coming from the ceiling revealed that the danger came in the form of a massive block of a heavy metal block that Kenobi had ripped. There was just enough time to raise both hands and summon his power to avoid being flattened.
Just as the master had predicted. Quite busy fighting gravity, Anakin was in no condition to muster adequate defenses against Obi-Wan’s second attack. The young Jedi was launched headfirst against the wall. And although his impact was rather mild compared with the booming fall of half a ton of metal, it was enough to leave him dazed, in some pain, low in protections and mind almost open to attack.
Kenobi pressed his advantage, negating his friend any chance to recover. He pressed his sweaty palm against Anakin’s forehead and prepared himself. He was beginning to understand the possible consequences of what he had done in the heat of the moment. And the consequences of what he intended to do now. But the point of no return had already been crossed and self-doubt was hardly indicated for what he was preparing to do. Anakin was more than a friend. He was duty and doubly so. He had been his Padawan. And he was also the young pod-racer Qui-Gon had found in Tatooine’s desert. He had sworn to protect the young Skywalker. And Obi-Wan Kenobi was not a man to take an oath lightly.
He increased the pressure both with his hand and the razor-sharp edge of his mental probe. Piercing Anakin’s weakened walls was easy for someone with his mastery of the Force. And he had helped in the construction of those walls. He knew the gaps and the vulnerabilities by heart. Nothing would stop him from getting inside. And once inside, nothing would stop his orders from being obeyed.
Sleep, he ordered. And he was obeyed.
The effect was dramatic. Anakin closed his eyes, his breathing slowed down and his weak attempts to break Kenobi’s hold stopped. A prisoner of his own mind, at least for the moment. It would not last very long, but it would last enough.
“This is… unexpected.”
The Count’s voice was weak and trembling, rather fitting considering his sorry state. The old man observed the scene with an unreadable expression in his face and using the wall for support. Anakin’s outburst had almost been lethal and Dooku had added several new injuries to his growing collection. His right arm had taken the worst of this landing and it was twisted in ways that looked both unnatural and painful, the skin in throat was an ugly shade of purple now and blood trickled from his mouth. His weak connection with the Force was the only thing that kept him standing now.
“You have had Jedi prisoners on board this ship. What do you use to keep them under control?”
Dooku’s face shifted to show a clearer emotion, surprise, and the Count frowned before answering with carefully chosen words.
“There are some Sith powers, some potions and some devices. Usually, I use several things at the same time to keep my prisoners in line.”
“I need something to keep Anakin unconscious for some time. We have to leave in a matter of minutes, but he might shake my command at any moment. And I am sure that if he does wake up, he will kill both of us. What do you suggest, Count?”
“There is a safe in the northwestern corner, next to the cabinet, behind Zerunum’s portrait. Inside you will find two neural disruptors and several doses of a potent sedative, ready for injection. The code is 2585436.”
After checking that his order was still in full effect, Obi-Wan crossed the room and tried to open the safe, but his trembling fingers would not enter the numbers correctly and after three failed attempts he lost his temper. The lock had not been designed to resist the meddling of those gifted with strength in the Force and a modicum of telekinetic manipulation forced it open easily enough. The neural disruptors and the drugs were clearly visible and finding them wasn’t difficult. Nonetheless, in the last moment Kenobi almost hesitated to take them.
What he was about to do was beyond good and evil. It was an actual crime, as neural disruptors had been completely illegal technology for millennia. It was against the Constitution and the Jedi Code that he had followed for most of his life. But it was the only way he had of saving Anakin from himself. The Jedi took one of the metallic collars and a hypodermic.
“You might want to take the datacubes with yellow labels, too. They contain a great deal of information you might find useful and I don’t want Grievous to get his claws in any of it.”
Obi-Wan turned his head to glance at Dooku and tried to find out the reason that had moved the ex-Sith to volunteer the information. Seconds later, he decided not to question it and simply picked the five datacubes.
Half a minute later, it was done. The collar was well fastened and the narcotic flowed through Anakin’s veins. Although a neural disruptor usually wouldn’t be enough to keep a Jedi subdued for long, just the same as a normal drug would be easily defeated by their enhanced organisms. Both things combined and boosted by Kenobi’s actions were more than up to the task of keeping Anakin sleeping for as long as it took to reach some safety. There would be no surprise awakenings.
When he rose, the eyes of the Jedi were full of tortured emotion that was terrible to behold and made Dooku break eye contact almost immediately. He had always known that Obi-Wan had to harbor some darkness, but he had never expected him to have such a fearsome potential. It seemed that Skywalker had not been the only one tainted by Sidious’ shadow, after all.
“We are leaving. Now. No more delays. No more trickery. If I so much as think that you are somehow betraying us or slowing our escape, I will kill you with my bare hands. Head the way, Count Dooku.”
Notes: Inspiration is an odd thing. I had been trying to write a scene like this for the best part of a month, but I couldn't produce anything worth posting. And just after posting Interlude II, the block disappeared.
I suppose that some readers might be disappointed with my handling of Kenobi and my removal of R2-D2. Unfortunately, I've plans for both characters that demand further departure from canon events and, in the end, this is what an Alternate Universe is supposed to be.
This is absolutely excellent. Although the loss of R2D2 is a great pity. It's enabled you to take to already interesting plot and make its something awsome by introducing a very serious Anakin/Obi-Wan in a very plausible way. Especially considering the RotS novelisation.
Nice work. As to R2, he is a character, to be used to advance the story as you will, learn from Chuck you must, his stories you must read.
As per usual, I demand more
Via money Europe could become political in five years" "... the current communities should be completed by a Finance Common Market which would lead us to European economic unity. Only then would ... the mutual commitments make it fairly easy to produce the political union which is the goal"
Great chapter, you conveyed the essence Anakin and Obi-Wan's relationship and followed through in a way that is true to what we have see in the movies.
Good Luck. And It's a very nice chapter. The plot seems to be advancing well.
