The Fate of Master Sifo-Dyas
It is two years after the Battle of Naboo.
Palpatine has firmly entrenched
himself into the Chancellorship
of the Galactic Republic. A tenuous
peace reigns through the galaxy.
Meanwhile, Count Dooku has resigned
from the Jedi Order to protest their
antiquated ways. His disappearance
has both saddened and concerned
the members of the Jedi Council.
Unbeknownst to the Jedi, Count
Dooku has joined the Sith. His
master has assigned him a final
sinister task to complete his
initiation into that terrible cult...
A sleek, roughly triangular ship cut through the atmosphere of Coruscant deliberately. The descent of its obsidian hull slowed as it reached a cloaked landing pad deep in the heart of the glimmering planetary city. Once its landing gear glanced upon the pad, white gaseous hisses emanated from the underside of the ship, easing it onto the urban terrestrial surface.
Regal footsteps echoed down the landing ramp as Count Dooku emerged from the dark bowels of the ship. He gazed upward, still impressed by the immensity of the secret Sith palace that remained undetected by the seemingly blind eyes of the Jedi Council.
His steps took him into into a dimly lit chamber, the end of an endlessly reconfiguring maze of twists and turns that could be stabilized only through use of the dark side of the Force. A darkly robed and slightly hunched figure greeted him there. "Kneel, Count Dooku," hissed the reptilian voice.
Dooku obeyed wordlessly. He bowed his head, raising his eyes to meet the gaze cast down at him. Only when his eyes met those of the hooded face did he utter, "What is thy bidding, my master?" in his deep, sinister, yet soothing baritone.
The slithery voice spoke again. "I have reports from Kamino that the clones are gestating well. The manipulations of their genome have stabilized, and the first wave of neonates have been spawned. They have been weaned from their nurse droids, and they already show promise in their initial combat exercises."
"How excellent, Lord Sidious!" Dooku's excitement was palpable; his eyes brightened and his wrinkled face became taut with pleasure.
"Indeed, Count. The clone army will be ready soon enough. And when it nears completion, you will be able to arise from the shadows we now inhabit. It is clear we will no longer require our long-dormant insurance policy. Eliminate it."
"But, my Lord..." Dooku's impertinent interruption was met with a harsher, firmer tone of voice from beneath the hood.
"This is your final test. Once it is completed, you will have demonstrated your devotion to the Sith arts. You will finally be worthy of a Sith name."
Dooku knew better than to cross his master a second time. "Yes, my Master. And when he is removed, I shall begin seeding foment throughout the galaxy."
"One task at a time, my apprentice. Remain focused on the needs of the present." The voice sounded as if it were shedding a scaly skin of scarcely contained contempt.
"Of course, my Master. What evidence shall you require?"
"His lightsaber would make a worthy trophy. Without it, he will not survive long in that forsaken wasteland."
"Indeed, my Master." Dooku nodded gravely in assent. "Then I shall dispatch him immediately. I shall kill that which the Jedi have believed dead for almost two years."
"Rise," croaked the gravelly voice from beneath the hood.
Dooku again obeyed, bowing slightly at the waist to the darkly robed figure before turning quickly on his heels to return to his Sith Infiltrator. Soon, nearly all connections between the Sith and the nascent clone army would be forever severed.