Here's the second chapter, as promised. Count Dooku makes his only appearance in this chapter. He is actually my favourite Sith Lord, so I was disappointed when he got killed off. Maybe I could have given him a more dignified death in my story, but oh well.
Disclaimer: I'm just going to write the exact same thing every single time, because I'm lazy. Aside from my own inventions, the characters, plotlines and settings in this story all belong to George Lucas and co. Cyber-Dolphins belong to me, of course. Revenge of the Sith would have been way more fun if Grievous was feeding people to his Cyber-Dolphins during the movie.
In the control room of the ship, a dozen Pilot Droids were quietly going about their business when the doors slid open and General Grievous stalked in. He was an imposing cyborg who stood several heads taller than the average human. His body was covered in white armour plating, and he had glowing orange eyes. Flanking Grievous on both sides were his "boys", two droids who had been assigned as his bodyguards. They wielded unusual weapons with double purple energy blades. Not that Grievous needed the protection; Count Dooku had trained him in the Jedi arts.
The cyborg reached into his cloak and pulled out a cigar. He lit it, sucked on it for a moment, and then exhaled the smoke, coughing.
"What did you call me here for?" Grievous demanded, taking a menacing step towards the head Pilot Droid. "I was meditating with my Cyber-Dolphins. You'd better have a good reason for interrupting me!"
General Grievous had a weakness for Cyber-Dolphins, mechanical versions of the squeaking sea creatures which are often known to leap out of the water and hit rubber balls. Cyber-Dolphins possessed much sharper teeth than normal dolphins and also liked to eat humans; these were just two of the reasons Grievous liked them so much.
The Pilot Droid cleared its throat. "There are two Jedi in the main hangar bay, sir."
Grievous sucked on his cigar, pleased. "Hmm, good. Bring them up here. I've been looking for someone to feed to my Cyber-Dolphins."
The Pilot Droid shifted in its seat, feeling about as worried as it was possible for an emotionless machine to be. Lord Sidious had instructed Grievous not to kill, mutilate or insult any more Jedi, as it merely complicated the situation. Who should the droid disobey: the mysterious, terrifying Lord Sidious, or the psychopathic General Grievous? Neither choice was very appealing.
"With all due respect, sir," the droid began hesitantly, "The Emperor said-"
"Shut up," Grievous coughed. "You're now on Cyber-Dolphin feeding duty for the next two weeks!"
If it had been an organic life form, the poor droid would have fainted. Five droids had already been eaten by Grievous' pets, and that was only in the past week! This appears to have been an unwise career choice, the droid reflected gloomily.
So far, Obi-Wan and Anakin had been able to move through the empty corridors of the Separatist ship with little difficulties. According to their information, the bar was on the top level of the ship, so they were currently standing in front of a turbolift, waiting patiently for the doors to open. Within a few moments, there was a clanking noise, and the doors slid open, revealing a troop of Battle Droids standing in the turbolift. Obi-Wan quickly deflected the droids' blaster bolts, then stepped into the lift and swung his lightsaber in wide arcs, reducing the droids to heaps of smoking metal. Meanwhile, Anakin stood outside the turbolift and casually pressed the buttons on the control panel; usually Obi-Wan fell for this trick.
Once Obi-Wan had kicked the ruined droids out into the corridor, the two Jedi stepped into the turbolift and the doors closed behind them. They stood quietly, listening to the tinkling elevator music, as the lift zoomed upwards.
Suddenly, there was a 'ding' and the turbolift doors slid open.
"Oh, are we there already? That was quick." Anakin stepped out of the turbolift and fell into empty space. Obi-Wan stared open-mouthed at the spot where his companion had been standing only a second ago.
Before Anakin could plummet to his death, he managed to grab onto a ledge on the side of the turbolift. Feet scrabbling on the lift's smooth surface, he hauled himself up onto the roof of the lift. As he crouched there, panting, he considered his situation. It was evident, even to Anakin, that someone must have stopped the turbolift.
Inside the lift, Obi-Wan was feeling slightly disappointed. He had secretly been hoping that Anakin would fall to his death; then, he would be able to get the mission done on his own. The Jedi Master decided to take matters into his own hands. He carefully examined the turbolift control panel.
How can I get him to fall off the roof and plummet to his death? Is there a button for that?
Obi-Wan hopefully pressed a large red button, and the lift dropped abruptly on its cables. As the lift sped downwards, Anakin tumbled off the roof and began to fall. Luckily, there was a small ledge on the side of the lift shaft, which he managed to grab onto as he fell. Unluckily, there were two Battle Droids standing on the ledge. As Anakin hung on with bruised and aching fingers, the droids raised their blasters.
"Hands up, Jedi," one of the droids ordered. "Haha. God I'm good. I should become a stand-up comedian."
"Can I be a comedian too?" the other droid asked hopefully.
"Uh, no. Get your own talent."
"Well, I'm pretty good at chess-"
The droid's speech was abruptly cut off as the turbolift shot back up the shaft, crushing both droids and returning Anakin to his old position on the lift's roof. Igniting his sky-blue lightsaber, Anakin sliced a large, circular hole in the roof and leaped through it. Obi-Wan spun around as his friend landed on all fours on the floor. He sighed; no matter how cunning he was, Anakin always survived.
At that moment, the lift door slid slowly open, revealing a huge, mercifully empty room. There was a wide window on the wall opposite the two Jedi, giving them a panoramic view of the space battleground.
"Hey, this isn't a bar," Anakin remarked, looking around him in surprise.
"No," Obi-Wan said, frowning. "This is where the Council said the Chancellor would be."
"In the bar?" Anakin gasped. "I knew it."
Obi-Wan gave his former apprentice a look of pure disdain. Anakin was always pretending he knew what was going on, even when he obviously didn't. Back in the days when he had been Anakin's Master, Obi-Wan had heard the phrase "So what are we supposed to be doing?" far too many times.
As the two Jedi walked slowly out into the centre of the room, a door hissed open behind them. They spun around, hands flying to their lightsabers. It was Count Dooku.
The fallen Jedi smiled mockingly as he strode towards them, his black cape rippling at his ankles. Count Dooku's hair and beard were silver-grey, and his face was lined and wrinkled; in short, he was no spring chicken. However, both Obi-Wan and Anakin were aware that he was still a formidable opponent. Anakin in particular had learned to respect his elders when Dooku had sliced off his hand the last time they met.
"And so, we meet again," the Count said smoothly, stopping a few metres away from the two Jedi.
"Count Dooku!" Obi-Wan remarked unnecessarily. He always liked to state the obvious, just in case Anakin was having trouble understanding the situation.
"Do you know where the bar is?" asked Anakin, confirming Obi-Wan's suspicion that his friend had no idea what was going on.
Dooku frowned in confusion, causing the lines on his forehead to deepen. "No, I'm afraid I don't normally go to bars. I only drink Mustafarian Lava Whiskey, you see, and most alcoholic beverage vendors don't sell it."
Obi-Wan waved his hand, dismissing this remark completely. "Never mind that. We're here to kill you and rescue the Chancellor!"
"Chancellor?" The Count looked even more confused. "Is that some new kind of drink? A cocktail, perhaps?"
Even Anakin knew that this was not the answer they had been anticipating.
"You kidnapped the Chancellor, didn't you?"
"No," Dooku replied. "I didn't even know the Chancellor was missing. Lord Sidious never tells me anything these days! Ever since Grievous came along, I haven't been given any of the fun missions." He shook his head sadly.
"Maybe that's because you're really, really old," Anakin said unreassuringly. "But anyway, let's do it!"
Count Dooku frowned again. "Are you hitting on me?" He cleared his throat nervously and adjusted his cape, muttering to himself, "Well, only if you want to. It's been a while, but-"
"No!" Obi-Wan snapped. "He meant that we should fight!"
"Oh, I see," the Count said, detaching his curved lightsaber from his belt. "Well, once we've done that, maybe we could go out and have a few drinks together... then maybe we could go back to your place, I don't know-"
Instead of politely declining this offer, Obi-Wan swung his lightsaber at Count Dooku, who blocked the attack with his own red sabre. They began the mindless pattern of block, parry, thrust, while Anakin stared absently out the window. After the disastrous outcome of their last battle with Count Dooku, Anakin was sure Obi-Wan wouldn't want his help.
Suddenly, Dooku froze, and his eyes widened in shock. His lightsaber clattered to the ground; moments later, he keeled over, as stiff as a board. Obi-Wan deactivated his lightsaber and stared down at his fallen opponent in disbelief.
"Hey, what happened to him?" Anakin asked. He had never come across a human with a self-destruct mechanism before.
"I think he had a stroke."
"What?" Anakin gasped, wrinkling his nose. "That's disgusting!"
"Not that kind of stroke," Obi-Wan sighed. "Anyway, let's go and look for the bar, and then we can get off this death trap of a ship."
Leaving Count Dooku's corpse lying sprawled on the floor, the two Jedi left the room and hurried along the corridor.
Like I said, kind of an undignified death. Poor Count Dooku! Speaking of, why doesn't he have a first name? I looked on Wookieepedia, and as far as I could tell, his name is just Dooku. Anyway, I'm getting slightly off track here.
If you're reading this story, please please review! Even if you don't have any actual constructive feedback for me, I would still love to hear from you! I'd like to know how many readers I have.
Next chapter: the Jedi meet General Grievous.