The Force Wills - Chapter 172 (Patreon)

She had never felt so alone in her life, as she did during that walk through the VIP bunker.

As Queen of Naboo for two terms, even during the height of the original invasion of her homeworld, there had been occasions where it felt like she carried the entire planet on her back. As if everyone around her had just given up, the despair written on their faces that the fight was lost and that not accepting defeat was just a waste of life and time.

Every face she saw now and could feel through the Force, it was a painful repeat of the worst days of the Federation invasion. Even the muuns were not immune to feeling the pressure of the siege. They did a masterful job of concealing it from general observation; it was in the tightness around their eyes, the extra hurried step as they walked and their hands stiffly clenched behind their backs. It was most obvious in their children, who Padme had the privilege of seeing and helping during the refugee volunteer work.

Muuns guarded their youth with a near-zealous ferocity from outside influence. They were likened to fresh clay that could be molded so easily. Most species in the galaxy had similar notions regarding their young, but the muun took it to another level entirely. Their naturally high intelligence combined with a malleability that would never repeat was seen as a sacrosanct time of life. It was the only element of their society that came close to being almost religious in nature.

The Siege had completely broken down the traditional barriers and filters that surrounded the muun youth of Scipio in the worst possible way.

She had seen a muun boy that was as tall as she was, standing at the foot of a biobed that held the dead body of his father. The mother standing beside him was practically a carved statue, so stiffly she held herself, even as internally she was an emotional wreck.

The boy was confused, angry, and raging, doing his best to control his reactions to events so completely alien to his usual carefully constructed environment and failing. His face was twisted with grief, pushing away tears that he couldn’t stop.

She pulled herself out of memory, focusing on the present as they let Dooku enter the turbolift first. Padme walked in next, her eyes taking in everything, yet focusing on nothing. She forced herself to again turn her back on Dooku as Typho and Damsin walked in and turned on their heels with the military efficiency of Senate Commandos.

“Ground floor,” commanded Dooku, his voice was almost kind, soft, but underneath an implacable durasteel that stabbed into their ears.

Typho worked the lift controls even as Padme fought within herself to let fear, anger and a fair amount of self-loathing pass through her. The latter was irrational, but the feeling that somehow, there could’ve been a way to stop all this, to do it differently, wouldn’t leave her.

If she had been more clever, if she could’ve advised Ahsoka better, then maybe they could’ve found a solution for the entire IGBC crisis that didn’t involve… all this suffering.

Yet even that feeling was another trap, laid out by the ultimate architect of this tragedy.

The turbolift doors opened and Padme saw the first clone troopers and SVD soldiers acting as security for the bunker. Beyond the doors was a now a fortified lobby with engineered cover, Repeaters and turrets all creating fields of fire towards the building’s entrance. Anything hostile coming through those doors would die a dozen times over.

All that strength and firepower, rendered utterly useless by Dooku.

She could feel him enshrouded with the Force in a way that she couldn’t even begin to describe with words.

Their steady walk through the fortified lobby raised no alarms and every eye, whether muun or clone, that passed over them saw nothing wrong.

That changed when the clone sergeant manning the front door controls from behind a fortified reception desk held up a hand to halt their progress.

“Senator, going somewhere?”

Such a simple question, yet her answer held the power of life and death for every person in the building.

“Yes, VIP Bunker 6, there are a number of senators who want to speak to me regarding the ad-hoc governing council and they are loath to do it over holo, even if we didn’t have communication disruptions.”

“It’s not exactly safe out there, Senator. Not to dismiss the capability of Senate commandos-”

She held up a hand to interrupt, pointing beyond the door, “I’ve taken care of arranging secure transport.”

Sure enough one of the armed cargo speeders of the 96th was already there, its doors open, two clones emerging from behind the mounted Repeater.

Padme could sense immediately that there was something wrong about these ‘clones’. They were physically a match; height, weight, the way they moved, the armor was correct and they even had the dirty scruffiness of battle stains on them. In the Force, however, there was something off with them.

She had sensed many clones of Jango Fett since her awakening in the Force, there was a quality to them. A feeling that they were a whole person with spirit, gumption, courage, anger and in some cases even outright kindness.

That was utterly missing here. It was like she was seeing a half-finished puzzle that was faded.

“Ah, I see. Well, since you still carry the authority of the Chancellor, there’s nothing I can really do except advise you Senator; it’s a bad idea to go out into the mess above our heads.”

“I fully understand, sergeant,” she said, just barely letting an edge of bitterness cloud her tone. “There is really little choice in the matter, unfortunately.”

The clone nodded and his hands began working the controls.

The front doors unlocked and hissed open to the night, letting in the artificial breeze carrying the din of the air battle.

“Thank you, Sergeant.”

They walked out into the perpetual evening of the arcology, but quickly hurried when one of the strange clone troopers jumped out of the speeder.

“Hurry Senator! Can’t be caught in the open!”

Even the voice was convincing as belonging to a Jango Fett clone. She had heard that droid commandos had tried to pull off imitating clone troopers early in the war, but it had never worked properly. There was definitely an organic being in there, her senses were clear on that. Was there a vocabulator in the helmet? Did Dooku recruit human men from CIS space who shared Fett’s height, then subject them to biosculpting? It couldn’t have been done on a mass scale.

Those thoughts carried her into the speeder and she quickly hurried the back corner of the compartment, grabbing one of the overhead straps. Typho and Damsin secured their rifles on their backs before doing the same, whilst Dooku calmly eased himself in and nodded at the clone trooper behind the controls.

The speeder burst forward into the sky with abrupt speed, straining the dampeners enough to show why the overhead straps were there.

Dooku just gave her a small satisfied smirk as he pulled off his hood and turned his back in complete confidence that they wouldn’t dare try anything.

The speeder quickly gained altitude and banked towards the north-west. The two ‘fake’ clones were behind the controls of the Repeaters on either side, traversing and scanning for threats.

She pulled at the frayed edges of her mind, gathering her wits, centering herself in the flame of her spirit. 

There were now only three questions burning in her mind. Does Ahsoka know I’m missing?

The answer was obvious in retrospect; yes. A detail like this wouldn’t escape her foresight. If that was the case, then why not tell her this was coming at all? Didn’t she trust her acting skills? Her ability to hold up the outer masks against someone of Dooku’s experience?

She knew her close friend well enough to know that there was always a purpose, plans within plans.

Somehow, keeping this from her until now had served a greater design. It could be that Ahsoka didn’t want to leave the slightest bit to chance. If Dooku had picked up any inkling that this entire kidnap scheme of his was expected, then he would not be here, risking his own life in a warzone. Unless he had full confidence that every potential chaotic element could be accounted for.

Did Damsin know?

Padme kept her eyes glaring at the back of Dooku’s head. Playing into the stubbornness in the face of overwhelming opposition, that was her hallmark since her days as queen.

Maybe, was the only conclusion she could come to after a while of considering it. Ahsoka could’ve also kept the Jedi Master in the dark as well. In everything she’d seen and been briefed by Ahsoka, Damsin was a superb infiltrator and hadn’t missed a single beat of her persona. Dooku had his perfect opportunity to reveal that he knew she was an ‘imposter’, even kill her, but somehow he still hadn’t detected that there was a full Jedi Master under that commando armor.

Could that be the plan? Ahsoka and Damsin taking on Dooku together?

The only answer Padme could come to was another maybe.

Whatever the case was, she could not afford to screw up Ahsoka’s plan.

She had to trust that the Jedi commander had something in the works, that there was a purpose to blocking the Bond and keeping her in the dark. She had to keep acting as if she was just the powerless senator who had been caught by surprise and was now desperate to work out a plan to prevent her friend from walking into a trap. She had to cast out any notion otherwise.

So absorbed was she in her thoughts that the sudden explosion of sound from the port side Repeater letting loose a burst of fire, caused her heart to nearly jump out of her chest.

“Single B2-RP, sir. Probably a straggler!” commented the trooper.

“Commendable aim, lieutenant,” Dooku said smoothly.

The speeder began a rapid descent a few minutes later and landed on the exterior pad of a building she couldn’t see properly.

Her captor gestured politely with a hand towards the starboard side door, “After you, Senator.”

Typho and Damsin took their spots, jumping out onto the pad.

Padme followed and stiffened in surprise when she recognized the building. She had last seen it in full daylight, but now there was no mistaking it.

Pors Tonith’s safehouse.

She couldn’t help but ask, “He’s your so-called associate?” 

“Tonith was kind enough to assist,” Dooku confirmed. “Now, do hurry inside, Senator.”

The speeder quickly took off and turned behind a nearby building, vanishing completely out of sight. The doors opened automatically at their approach and they strode down the familiar luxurious hallway.

“And the clones? How did you get them to turn traitor?”

Dooku chuckled in response. “Now Senator, do you really expect me to reveal that? Then again, perhaps I should, if only to shatter your faith in the clone army. For all this war, they have obeyed you without question. They are your blade and shield. Now I demonstrate that surety and safety can be usurped. The CIS has spent much time and treasure to solve the problem of the clone army. What you just saw was but one of the tools that has been developed. Into the turbolift, 16th floor.”

As the lift car ascended, she pondered the merits of contacting Anakin through the Bond, but quickly dismissed it. He was coming as quickly as he could, practically running his fleet’s hyperdrives into burnouts. Telling him now of a situation he could not affect at all would just frustrate him, anger him and leave him off balance.

Would Ahsoka come alone? Or bring clones as well?

Dooku would be a fool to allow the latter.

One thing was clear; Ahsoka, the head of Fulcrum, the one who had pointed and shone a light on Palpatine, who would be needed for so much in the future beyond the war, couldn’t be allowed to risk herself, just for one replaceable senator who could barely wade into the shallows of the Force.

Think Padme, think! She remonstrated herself.

From the depths of memory, emerged Geonosis, the droid factory, the many times she’d faced death. However, this felt different. This was personal.

Dooku wasn’t after just a political or military victory here. He wanted to strike at two symbols of defiance that stood against his movement: the queen turned senator who had defied the mighty Trade Federation and now the Separatists, in addition to the Jedi commander who had brought victory to the Republic so many times, promoted by COMPOR as one of the figureheads of the fight. What a blow it would be to general Republic morale when one of them was killed.

A hot irrational anger flared at herself. If she had not insisted on being down here in the middle of the siege with her fellow senators, if she had let Ahsoka evacuate her onto the Conqueror…

If, if, if, if!

It was so hard to let go of that anger, even as she felt it promising her power.

Power to take her own destiny into hand, shape it and no longer be a helpless nerf in the face of Dooku.

She would reach into the Force, grab more and more, irrespective of the consequences and shove it down Dooku’s throat! Kill the man who had caused so much death and destruction across the galaxy at the whim of his insidious master.

Dooku was arrogant. He was proud of his own skill with that lightsaber and the Force. He loved that he could make everyone around him dance in the elegance of his deadly schemes.

She averted disaster by the narrowest of margins in the next moment when the cold realisation settled that no neophyte Matukai could hope to overcome a Force Practitioner of Dooku’s experience and tempered power in the Dark Side. She’d reveal herself to disastrous consequences and achieve nothing. She could almost hear Ahsoka’s voice as she spoke to her of the chain of events that would unfold.

Padme let the fear, anger and temptation pass through her.

I will not fear. 

The presence of Typho and Damsin called to her like beacons of light in a storm.

We are not helpless. Not yet.

The lift doors opened to an entire empty floor of the building; a vast open space, no rooms, no partitions, only floor to ceiling windows with the interior light just low enough to show the arcology’s cityscape in mild detail, occasionally lit with flashes of the ongoing air battle.

In the center were two portable chairs, a table with some refreshments and the tall form of Pors Tonith himself.

“Have a seat, senator,” Dooku ordered mildly. 

Padme moved forward with sudden long strides, her eyes glaring at Tonith all the way.

“Such hostility, Senator Amidala,” commented the former CIS admiral. “I told you. I’m a believer in the CIS cause. Taking hostages in this fashion is not an honorable strategy, but in war very little is truly honorable. Please sit, have a glass of water. A host must always take care of his guests.”

She took the seat and folded her legs, purposefully letting subtle hints of her days as queen in her movements come forth. Typho and Damsin stood behind her and formed a rather powerful image.

Pushing his cape out of the way elegantly, Dooku sat down,“Did you transmit the message, Tonith?”

“Exactly as you instructed, Prime Minister.”

That he used the title that Dooku was addressed with in the current farce that was the CIS parliament rather amused Padme. Then again, did she have any ground to stand on with regard to the Senate currently? Every day, it was being manipulated and senators were slowly voting for bill after bill that was turning them into becoming of similar irrelevance.

“Good.” Dooku reached for the table next to them and began pouring water from an oval jug into two tall glasses. He carefully pushed one towards Padme, whilst picking up the other and taking an unhurried sip. His eyebrow raised when he saw her not reaching for the glass. “Really Senator? It’s just water, nothing untoward.”

She didn’t respond and just continued to stare defiantly at the monster before her.

The silence stretched as he finished drinking from the glass and put it down, the sound of which echoed sharply throughout the entire empty space. “So, Senator, how does it feel to finally admit that your precious Republic is nothing more than a thief on a grander scale?”

Oh, so a physical victory isn’t enough for him, he wants an intellectual one as well, she thought.

“Your own thieving hands were already within the IGBC, Dooku,” she countered. “They were subsidizing you, whilst practically beggaring the Republic with interest. Neutrality? Don’t make me laugh. This nationalization was done to stop not just the Republic, but the entire galaxy from falling into the financial ruin you were helping to engineer.”

“A fascinating perspective, to be expected from someone of limited vision,” Dooku smiled knowingly, his eyes gleaming with superiority. “The IGBC and the muuns behind them are realistic creatures. They have calculated the war in great detail, its root causes and outcomes. They can see that the galaxy and the Republic that has dominated it for so long, has reached a point where it can no longer effectively govern. Therefore, they only acted as natural, helping the side which was calculated to bring stability, security, order and greater profit.”

Padme realized that Dooku was not just talking to her, but also playing to Tonith and she sensed the muun falling for it completely.

“And all of it, thanks to the great Count Dooku,” Padme retorted. “Who will remain the glorious leader of the Separatists for eternity.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Senator. I know one day that I will pass from this life, but what I leave behind in the galaxy beyond me, how I shape it in the here and now… that is true immortality! As a mere Jedi Master for so long, I was but a pawn to the Council, who was in turn led by the Senate. A blinkered, corrupt institution, only caring for its own power, wealth and influence. The Jedi, hah!” His contempt for the Order was palpable in the Force itself. “They might as well rename themselves Senate Commandos. Enforcing law and order, but only for the rich and influential. You yourself are only alive because you were queen of Naboo, therefore considered worthy of Jedi protection.”

Padme shook her head, “Yes, I’m sure the Jedi Army, had one existed at the time, would’ve been all too happy to protect every Naboo citizen that the Trade Federation threatened.”

“Precisely,” Dooku nodded. “A mere ten thousand Jedi, knights and padawans spread across the galaxy. We couldn’t possibly be everywhere and nothing was done to change the situation. Only when I finally pushed the matter for the Outer Rim, forming what would become the Confederation of Independent Systems, look how quickly the Jedi embraced becoming a standing military. Fighting against what is rightly the people of the Outer Rim taking their destiny into their own hands. The people, fighting for their freedom from a corrupt Republic. Just look how quickly the Jedi accepted the clone army that was created by another Jedi Master in secret! The Republic has now become the very tyranny it claims to oppose.”

“Oh, how does this noble fight for freedom involve all the bioweapons you’ve unleashed on civilian populations lately?” Padme retorted fiercely. “The well documented atrocities your droid armies commit as they march across worlds. Enabling and creating monsters like the late Generals Grevious, Durge and now I hear reports of yet another… General Savage Opress.”

Dooku’s eyes flashed with a knowing satisfaction, “Change does not come easily, Senator. The sentient condition is to remain in its equilibrium, even if that same equilibrium is abhorrent. People just accept that they will always be ruled over by some collection of fat, hidebound politicians gathered in the galactic core, making rules for them and demanding taxes in return for the privilege. Then when there is truly an emergency, if some pirate in a frigate shows up holding an entire world ransom, then suddenly it’s all excuses for why the ill-equipped, underfunded Judicial Force can’t arrive to help in time or at all. The Jedi Council would decide that the world just isn’t populated enough to be worthy of their attention.  Would it interest you to know that General Grievous was not truly born at my hand, but that of the Jedi?

“His people, the Kaleesh, had been fighting against the insectoid Yam'rii, who had invaded his more fertile world for resources. The Yam’rii brutally conquered them as well as dozens of other worlds in the sector. They naturally fought back and Grievous would rise to a feared and respected warlord of his people. Then the Yam’rii, seeing their defeat inevitable, sought assistance from the Republic, painting themselves the victim and sweetening the deal with considerable mineral exploitation rights after the war was over. The noble Senate sided with the Yam’rii and the Jedi marched straight in lockstep with it, making no effort to investigate the broader situation. As such, the Kaleesh were defeated and portrayed to the Republic at large as a vicious invader. So tell me, Senator, in light of this, do you think I am wrong not to recruit people of similar mind and experience to my own?”

Padme sighed, closing her eyes, absorbing the intellectual blow and riposted, “Nothing is perfect, Dooku. No people are perfect. Whether the Kaleesh or the Yam’rii were in the wrong, who invaded who, I remember reading of those campaigns. It all devolved into brutal fighting on both sides. Did the Kaleesh content themselves to merely drive off the Yam’rii from their system? No. They continued the campaign to the entire sector. Would a people who had known nothing but a generation of constant fighting, who venerated their warlords, simply decide to give back those worlds? Worlds they had shed blood for? No, Dooku, there was no right answer here. Both sides were horrific, but it was the Yam’rii who were at least civilized enough to come to a negotiation table.”

Dooku smiled and grandly gestured to the arcology’s night sky outside, “And did Chancellor Palpatine truly come to the negotiation table here? I must commend him on how quickly he moved the Republic to nationalize Scipio in comparison to actual relief efforts you are spearheading for suffering worlds.”   

“Those worlds are only suffering because of your actions!” Padme snapped. “We wouldn’t be in this position had you just-”

She visibly cut herself off, dangling a verbal gambit for him to take.

He looked at her with a knowing expression, “Do continue, Senator. You were about to say if I had just been a good little Jedi Master to remain content in the Order, to be the Senate’s good little akk hound until I retire. Whereby I can go on to train more hounds for you. To that I give the same answer I gave to Master Yoda. My future was on Serenno and to further the cause that had grown in my heart from the struggles of my own world, which also stemmed from the failures of the Republic.”

Padme knew that there was no weapon in this fight that she could bring to bear that wouldn’t be exposing her as knowing too much. There was no winning over Pors Tonith and even if she did, what could he do to affect the situation? Dooku would simply kill him.

Yet, she had to try and turned to face him.

“What do you think will happen here if the Republic is routed from Scipio? That the CIS will just let the IGBC continue with its business as usual? That they won’t grab control completely. Neither side can afford to let the other control the levers of finance now.”

“Not really a compelling argument for your side, Senator,” Tonith shook his head.

“Yes, but a truthful one. With the Republic at least, there is a path to return to semi-autonomy.” She gestured to Dooku. “Your dear Prime Minister will never return the IGBCs reigns the instant he has it. It’s not in his nature anymore you see, if it ever was or has he explained the unnatural color of his eyes as contracting some unfortunate disease or an insidious, mysterious Jedi attack?”

Tonith started to say something, the first hints of doubt creeping into his eyes before he shook his head, “The latter, Senator. However, I will stop your attempt at convincing me here. I’ve chosen my side and nothing you say can change the equation that is facing the galaxy. The CIS must win.”

“And he chose well and logically, like any good muun does,” Dooku praised, nodding at the former admiral. “The Navy misses his considerable talent for command, but I accepted his resignation after his defeat, knowing he would bring the cause of the CIS with him to the banking clans.” The Count looked up at the ceiling briefly and frowned, “It seems your young friend is rather tardy. My instructions for her arrival are within just two minutes and I sense nothing approaching this building.”

“And what did you say you would do if she was late? Though I can guess,” Padme rolled her eyes.

Dooku’s yellow eyes smoldered, “Nothing good for your health, dear senator or the lives contained within the primary VIP bunker.”

Padme barely contained her reaction behind her mental defenses when the Bond to Ahsoka abruptly opened.

‘Stall, Padme.’

‘Ahsoka! At-’

‘Stall him!’

She buried her frustration and shrewdly stared at the Count, “While we’re here, something I’ve been curious to hear straight from you. Just how do you view the future of the galaxy with the CIS and you as the galaxy’s Prime Minister?”

“The model is already there, Senator, being practiced on Raxus Prime. No corrupt Senate, no Jedi Order artificially propping it up from behind the scenes. There are only parliamentarians, who are answerable and held fully accountable to their world for the way they vote. The corporations are entirely absent and will answer to the law and the Prime Minister.”

“And what does the Separatist Council, who are entirely filled with the megacorps, have to say about that?”

“They have nothing to say about it, because they will have no true power in the Confederation. They will make their products, profit, pay their taxes and that will be that.”

“After you kill the army of bounty hunters and assassins they send to deal with you, I’m sure,” Padme retorted dryly.

“The intricacies of my vision are beyond you, Senator. I don’t dispute that you are a reasonably clever individual and politician, but you are a product of the very corrupt system I swore to destroy.”

“You can dress it up however you want to, Dooku. You will just become another flavor of the very tyranny you’re supposedly fighting against. You may have convinced the ignorant among your inner circle that those eyes are nothing to be concerned about. However, the Jedi Order knows better, I know better. If things don’t go here the way you like, you are ready to kill everyone in this room. If I had convinced Tonith in any way, you’d strangle him then snap his neck without even getting up from that chair.”

Dooku smiled somewhat, the smallest glint of surprise washing over his aging features, “How interesting. It seems I must change my estimation of both you and the Jedi. If you possess such knowledge of the Force, then they’ve been uncharacteristically open to you. The Order may preach about spreading knowledge far and wide, but only that which they deem safe. Perhaps though, this is just an indication of how close you are to certain individuals.”

Padme really felt like kicking herself at that moment.

‘It’s fine. Almost ready. Padme, hang on.’

‘Hanging on,’ she thought with as much sarcasm as she could.

“I would advise you to be careful in your next words, Senator. You don’t have your pet Jedi Knight to protect you and his padawan seems to have adopted-”

The sound of the familiar crystalline chirping of Ahsoka’s lightsaber echoed through the entire floor.

Padme had the distinct pleasure of seeing Dooku’s eyes widen in complete surprise, before he burst to his feet with the speed of Force enhancement, turning to his left.

His hand was already on the hilt of his own lightsaber but didn’t draw as yet as he saw…

The Darksaber hummed powerfully as it cut a hole in the building’s transparisteel large enough for Ahsoka to pass through.

The thick oval pane fell forward with a mild crash and air began rushing throughout the empty floor due to the pressure disruption.

The Mandalorian Jedi hovered forward and let her boot jets gradually shut down, smoothly lowering herself to the floor.

“Apologies for the tardiness, Padme. It seems that Dooku decided he wanted to first let Embo intercept me. Possibly with the intention of at least wearing me down a bit before this moment.”

Ahsoka hadn’t moved closer at all, keeping almost 20 meters of space between her and Dooku.

“How disappointing,” commented Dooku with clear sincerity. “I don’t sense him alive. Not very Jedi of you, padawan.”

“When you deal with a bounty hunter of that caliber, there is not much you can do otherwise. Besides, he would’ve just complicated our negotiations here.”

Somehow, the rhythmic humming of the active Darksaber carried perfectly through the air as Ahsoka began a slow forward stride towards Dooku.

“Negotiation?” Dooku chuckled with mocking menace. “You carry the impertinence of Skywalker with you, padawan.”

Padme struggled not to flinch or even faint as the Force began… twisting and boiling?... all around her.

She realized that the battle had begun already. Dooku’s power poured outward seeking to crush Ahsoka within her armor before a single lightsaber had even been swung.

Yet the young Jedi showed not a single outward sign of the battle, calmly walking forward.

It was extremely difficult to perceive how Ahsoka was managing to counter, but the only words she could ascribe it to was how water flowed and deflected off a rock.

“How’s the cleansing going, Dooku? Not too well, by the looks of it,” Ahsoka said casually. “It’s too bad it would be impossible for you to perform the Ritual of Three.”

Dooku’s eyes narrowed in anger, his lips pursed as he unhooked his lightsaber, the elegant red blade dangerously hissing to life. Padme could swear she somehow heard screaming within the sound of that lightsaber.

“Oooh, touched a nerve there, did I?”

“So it would seem my former master has confided my youthful indiscretions to you.”

Ahsoka shrugged and came to a stop just under ten meters away, “Are you going to get angry about it? Master Yoda wasn’t truly reluctant to pass this knowledge to me. After all, a betrayer will in turn be betrayed. You betrayed the Jedi Order at the encouragement of the Sith Lord. Betrayed your oath as Jedi. Betrayed the Republic and its people. How long until your plan to betray your current master?”

Padme had to shield her ears as the shrill scream of Force Lightning erupted from Dooku’s outstretched right hand.

Ahsoka swept the Darksaber in front of her, and the deadly energy was pulled into the white-black blade as if it was a gravitational maw.

The lighting of the entire floor began to flicker, plunging everything into darkness briefly, before recovering, only to disappear again.

Dooku’s attack abruptly stopped, and the light returned.

“Most impressive, young Tano,” he declared grandly. “A superb Dun Möch and Tutaminis.”

Ahsoka tilted her helmet, “You actually acknowledge it?”

“Credit and respect is due where it’s earned, Tano. And you have most assuredly done so. You are my enemy, you will die tonight but I am not a berserker Sith warrior of old.”

“Oh, someone’s done his research independently from his master. He won’t like that.”

Dooku visibly frowned an almost alien look of surprise and worry in his yellow eyes, “You know of the Dark Lord.”

“You warned Master Kenobi, did you not? When you held him captive under the Geonosian arena. Did you think he just forgot about something that potentially important?”

Dooku’s eyebrows rose, “I see.”

“I’m something of an ancient history specialist and the Sith is a particular fascination of mine. So when I say your master will act a certain way, it’s me interpreting a pattern that has occurred since the time of the first Sundering and the split of the Je’daii.”

Padme could only shake her head incredulously. Both of them were chatting, all the while they were trading blows of energy in the Force. It was a miracle that the floor and ceiling around them was still in one piece.

The sheer level of Control was mind boggling to her.

“Ancient history of little relevance to today, young Tano. The Sith are far removed-”

Ahsoka gestured with the Darksaber, “Sith Empire, Brotherhood and Banite. The name changes and Darth Bane might have changed the Order’s continuity, but it does not change the fundamental interaction between sentient consciousness and the Dark Side.”

With no warning whatsoever, even in the Force, lightning erupted from Ahsoka’s blade.

It had a core of black, surrounded by soft white power, that instantly crossed the distance towards Dooku.

The Count was forced one step back and barely managed to intersperse his own blade to absorb the blow. Again his eyes widened in surprise, his teeth gritting slightly with visible effort to manage the energy. He even had to bring up his left hand to support his grip to keep hold of the hilt.

Then things got worse.

In a heartbeat, Dooku’s left hand pointed directly at Padme.

So absorbed was she in the battle, that when Typho tackled her from the side, she was completely surprised.

The scream that tore from her bodyguard’s throat was horrific as he absorbed the blow meant for her.

Her view of everything was robbed by the blue chest armor of a Senate commando, as Tycho arms spasmed awfully around her.

Just as quickly, it was over and she could barely feel the life of her long time friend and bodyguard, hanging by a thread. His heart was barely beating.

“Senator! Senator?!”

Damsin’s voice came from above her, she felt the woman’s hand on her shoulder.

Padme managed to break free of a dying Tyhpo’s grip, sat up and just barely stopped herself from berating the still undercover Master…

What would it take before she would intervene?

Damsin kneeled to help her up, “Are you all right?”

“Of course not!” she snapped as she got to her feet. “Help him!”

“Anything I do will make matters worse at this point. He needs a healer, Senator.”

Padme looked back to the battle, where the only healer in the room was fighting for all their lives.

Dooku was pursuing Ahsoka, blade raised, but the Jedi was keeping her distance, ripping parts of the floor and ceiling off and sending it against Dooku at speeds almost comparable to a slugthrower.

In defense, the Count’s own telekinesis deflected or outright absorbed the hits.

The floor in general was getting wrecked as the fight continued; piping and conduits pulled caused jets of high pressure water to begin pouring in, cabling, tiles and debris began littering the floor.

Ahsoka moved gracefully with such speed in a way that Padme had never seen before; using the Force to augment not just speed, but also… levitating her own armor?... whilst pulses from the jet boots kept her hovering in the air.

It was almost beautiful to watch.

Dooku pursued, using the Force for self-augmentation similarly in speed, trying to bring Ahsoka into blade range, but it was immediately clear that the Jedi was making that very difficult to do.

He reached out, trying to collapse the ceiling on Ahsoka, but she in turn sent a pulse of the Force Push that neatly cancelled out the attempt.

The fantastic duel was so captivating, that Padme almost missed Damsin abruptly shooting the nearly forgotten Tonith with a stun shot from her rifle.

The muun collapsed to the floor and the small holdout blaster in his hand quickly explained why the undercover Jedi Master had done so.

“We are in a very precarious position, Senator,” Damsin explained, her right hand holding the DC15 rifle began a series of subtle signs that was taught to all Fulcrum members. ‘I will defend your life only as a last resort. My cover must hold until the time is right.’

Padme looked back to the duel, using her left hand to subtly sign in reply, ‘I understand. There is a plan?’

‘Yes. Certainty of success; marginal.’

Dooku abruptly stopped, his blade held wide and low in what she remembered from Ahsoka’s training as a Makashi form. His yellow eyes were brimming with open frustration and while he didn't seemed winded on the surface, Padme could see subtle signs that he had paused to regain some strength in Force and his breathing was noticeably faster.

Ahsoka paused as well and her feet touched the floor again.

“You fear engaging me with the blade,” Dooku declared with a vicious smile.

“Prudence, Dooku, only a fool engages an opponent where they are the strongest,” Ahsoka countered.

The Force burst with motion as suddenly six torn pipes with wicked sharp edges laying among the debris on the floor shot towards Dooku from every direction at slugthrower speeds.

The Count’s defense caught each one just short of his body by mere centimeters.

He smirked wickedly and sent the spears straight back.

Padme felt herself tackled to the ground by Damsin again, as one of those pipes flew right through where her chest had been.

“You seek to outright kill me, young Tano? That’s not very Jedi of you.”

“We both know even if I managed to disarm and capture you, you’d just be rescued by a very conveniently placed mercenary team before you even reached the Core. At this point, you must just die.”

He smiled with a wicked delight, his red blade moving briefly to a high guard position before blurring forward.

Ahsoka shot backward in reverse to keep distance and the destructive duel of telekinesis resumed. 

Padme didn’t bother getting to her feet this time, simply bringing her legs underneath to sit down on the floor.

Her left hand signed, ‘How long can this go on?’

‘As long as it needs to. She has foreseen this battle coming for a long time.’

Padme’s mind raced with the implications, recalling everything of what Ahsoka had said and implied with her prescience, ‘Yet she doesn’t truly know the outcome for sure.’

‘No.’

The entire floor was now so thoroughly wrecked, with the exception of a small island of stability around the four non-combatants, that Padme was beginning to worry they’d soon fall into the floor below.

Dooku’s footing was becoming very precarious, jumping off the riblike floor struts and surging Force Pushes ahead of him to clear debris and continue his pursuit.

“HAAAAH!”

The scream of frustration resounded in not just the air, but in the Force as well.

The debris between Ahsoka and Dooku was rendered into even smaller pieces as the Force Scream bore down on her.

The Darksaber rose and caught it.

Ahsoka twirled her blade once in a breathtaking economy of movement, before sending the malefic Force energy straight back to Dooku.

Padme swore she could even see it with normal sight, the ripples flickering a sickly violet.

Dooku was for the most minor moment, caught completely flatfooted in surprise at suddenly having to deal with his own exotic technique. He was forced into a rapid dodge to the side, his footing and balance off.

A swirling storm of the closest debris around the Count shot straight towards him.

It bounced off for the most part, but the pain was visible on his face as he suffered numerous hard blows and cuts that drew blood from his arms and back, his perfect cape was reduced to tatters.

“HAAAAAA!”

The stench of the Dark Side was awful and a Force Wave pushed outward from the Count in desperate defense.

Padme had no choice, she delved into her own training and with augmented reflexes ducked to the floor and Damsin dove on top of her.

The entire floor’s transparisteel was shattered outward explosively and the debris became a visible deadly wave that washed over them.

She could feel Damsin’s armor absorb the worst of it and the Master bore the other inevitable blunt force injuries stoically.

I hate this.

The feeling of helplessness, of being a burden needing to be protected. It was distracting Ahsoka from potentially finishing this.

Damsin rolled off her and she looked up in time to see Dooku hurl his lightsaber into a lethal fan of red straight towards Ahsoka. All in the effort to slow her down and reel her in.

With perfect timing she swung the Darksaber, catching Dooku’s flying blade on the mid-length and batting it away.

It didn’t return to Dooku, instead it simply halted its deflected flight and came angling back in.

“There is wisdom in your strategy, young Tano! But while I favor the blade, it doesn’t mean the knowledge and techniques of the Force are my weakness!”

The lethal fan of light angled in again under Dooku’s Control, even faster.

Ahsoka regained her rearward momentum, deflecting the blade again with no apparent issue.

He was now content to stay still, directing the deadly movement of his blade with a calm raised hand.

The strange long range duel continued, until Dooku’s eyes widened in alarm and hurriedly recalled his blade, jumping along the floor ribbing.

Ahsoka raised her hand and from seven points in the darkness beyond, streams of blaster fire from Repeaters angled into Dooku from different points.

He elegantly moved his blade around himself, deflecting the fusillade where he could, using levitated debris to absorb the rest.

For one brief hopeful moment, it seemed as if Dooku would be overwhelmed.

One after the other though, his deflections sent a bolt straight back to the origin point and that Repeater hovering there under Ahsoka’s power fell silent.

For a moment, Padme was baffled. Where did she get those from? Did she rip them out of the street from ground level?

Both combatants paused.

“Nice try, young Tano. I had wondered why that clone gunship above the building was just hovering there. Levitation of the Repeaters they delivered combined with Mechu-deru, fantastic precision. Distance truly doesn’t mean anything to you, does it?”

Ahsoka didn’t answer, bringing her left hand to the Darksaber in a double grip, whilst her two remaining lightsaber hilts lifted off her belt and ignited on either side of her.

“Getting serious are we?” Dooku mocked, yellow eyes shining with anticipation.

Ahsoka stood perfectly still, not rising to the bait of being drawn into a conversation. Padme could barely make any sense of the Force within her range at this point. It was as if it had become a shifting maelstrom of competing and lingering displacements as both Jedi and Sith delved deeply into it.

Dozens of conduits and cabling still littering the area sprang to life and surged towards Dooku.

He retaliated with a broad Force Push to deflect but there were simply too many under Ahsoka’s control.

For a few seconds it looked like the count was completely cocooned, yet the cabling was halted in an ovoid sphere that couldn’t break through his personal boundary of Control.

Padme then saw movement from the darkness outside; five small shapes obscuring the city lights that surged into the building.

Dooku finally managed to push away the cabling that threatened to suffocate him, only for brilliant light to erupt in the flickering darkness.

Five streams of flame that blossomed and expanded from the clone flame projectors under Ahsoka’s control headed straight towards Dooku. 

The sheer sound of it was horrific - a high scream of expanding super heated air.

For the first time in the entire fight, Dooku had to actually move with a desperate urgency for survival.

He blurred with Force Speed and even jumped high in an arcing somersault movement that she knew came from the Jedi combat form Ataru.

Ahsoka shifted the Darksaber, keeping its tip pointed at her opponent, the flame projectors stopped firing and pursued, adjusting their aim, releasing bursts towards the fleeing Sith. It was as if she was a conductor for an orchestra.

Dooku was artfully kept on the backfoot, trying to close the distance to his opponent, but Ahsoka just adjusted the projectors to cut him off, hounding him into the other direction. Any burst of flame that he couldn’t avoid was deflected by holding a constant Force Push in his palm - something that Padme hadn’t even known was possible. The entire duel was proving to be a frightening education in just what was possible with Force Practitioners.

The Count proved his experience at this moment, sending his own lightsaber to fly outward and slash at one of the projectors even as he was kept in retreat. 

The projector’s flames were abruptly cut off and Padme heard the hiss of spraying fuel.

Ahsoka had no choice but to send the damaged projector flying away into the darkness.

With a steady inevitability, Dooku disabled each projector.

He was left standing 15 meters from Ahsoka, visibly breathing hard, his yellow eyes absolutely furious and glaring at her. For all the agility and defense he had employed, he had suffered visible radiant burns to his beard, arms and back.

Ahsoka’s voice was drier than Tatooine, “How’s that for getting serious?” 

Dooku didn’t answer and held up his lightsaber in a vertical salute in front of his face. “This duel should be impossible. You are not a padawan, Ahsoka Tano. You are not a Jedi. Using the Force as you do, is not the Jedi way. My eyes see a young togruta, in armor that shouldn’t be on her, but I feel an entirely different opponent before me. What are you?”

“I have no need nor desire to educate you, Dooku.”

One of Ahsoka’s green blades abruptly shot through the air.

Padme’s eyes widened as the weapon tumbled end over end straight towards her!

However, it swerved at the last moment and buried itself blade first into the edge of the small island of flooring that Padme, Typho and Tonith were lying on.

The visible hilt blurred around them with speed before pulling back out and flying towards its master.

“Oh kriff,” Padme couldn’t help but mutter.

She screamed as gravity took its due as she and a significant section of the floor fell down into the next floor.

Her instincts managed to pull on the Force with a fluidity and ease that she had never experienced before.

The impact of the floor on her body was absorbed and bled off harmlessly. Instead of a multitude of broken bones and pain, she simply bounced and was mildly winded.

Her eyes took in the floor she was on rapidly; it was one of the housing floors, with multiple apartments for Tonith’s guests. The wreckage from above hand landed in a central hallway.

Lights flashed in her eyes from one side and footsteps sprinted towards her. 

“Senator! Senator Amidala!”

The familiar modulated voices of clone troopers called to her.

“Come help me!” she shouted, carefully feeling Typho’s neck for a pulse.

It was barely there, dangerously low.

Strong hands grabbed her under the armpits, “NO! Help him!”

“We have strict orders from the commander, Senator. It’s not safe here!”

She tried to fight their grip but all energy seemed to just leave her in sudden exhaustion of adrenaline’s aftermath as she was dragged away.

Her eyes were fixed on the man who had given so much to her over the last decade out of solemn duty, spent so much time away from his family and children, saved her life so many times.

Then a notable absence in the scene stuck out in her mind.

Wait, where was Master Damsin?

88888888888888888888888888888888888

A/N: Whewww. (Wipes sweat off brow.) Sorry about the break here, but this fight has to be given its due. The Ritual of Three, refers to a time in Dooku's youth, when he was captured by a dark side cult, the Presagers, and used Force lightning to defeat them in desperation. The Ritual cleansed him of the taint. All this happened shortly after the death of his mother. Hence why that jab of Dun Moch hit him successfully.

Oh, for max impact, reread this whilst 'Duel of Fates' is playing in the background :-)

Have a great weekend and stay awesome folks!