Later:

~Asajj's POV~

Word about the Count's miraculous escape flared amidst the halls of the Jedi Temple. The main areas of gossip now included Anakin Skywalker's miraculous return and Count Dooku's controversial discovery. Everyone was talking about it, from the youngest Padawan to the oldest master to the Forceless beings who paraded about making havoc. The Force was alight with curiosity and conflicted feelings.

None so conflicted as Asajj's though. Three years-three eternal years-she had spent beneath the tutelage of Count Dooku. Three painful years, where she had been shrouded in the Dark's Side embrace, had its shackles around her wrists and neck and feet. Shackles she was still fighting against to this day. Then-nothing. After all her hard work-after all she had done in his name- he had abandoned her to die. He had betrayed her, and strung her into a web of revenge and anger that had lasted the rest of the years before she met Mara Jade.

Many Jedi felt a sense of gratitude towards Dooku. He had saved them from being recaptured and made into slaves after all, two years before. They owed their present lives to him, but Asajj refused to feel such gratitude. She was with the other half of Jedi who had not forgotten the war he had begot, the people he had betrayed and the lives he had taken. Including hers.

He helped ruin my life.

Which is why as soon as she heard that he was in the temple-from Mara, no less!- she went to the first place she could think of. Ventress was not sure what she was looking for by going to Obi-wan. Did she want to speak to Dooku, know how he had escaped, know what he wanted? How could she ask such questions when she did not even know what she wanted?

I know I hate him.

That was true, the hate sat in her gut and slithered like an irritated snake, snapping at her innards and fueling her raging desire to see… Something done. Some kind of punishment for all he had done. It scared her. That hatred reminded her of who she had once been, the monster he had helped turn her into. The Dark Side he had shackled her too…

"Ugh!" She cried, swiveling around mid-walk to slam a fist into the wall. Rage made her heart burn and her skin grew hot. She saw red.

"Saji?" Or did she see the orange of Mara's hair? With a sigh, she released the rage into the Force and turned around. In her contemplation she had forgotten that Mara was right behind her.

Her apprentice stared up at her with barely hidden worry, brow crinkled. Mara was standing a ways back, knowing from hard-earned experience that being near Asajj when she was in a mood was a dangerous idea. Well, Asajj berated herself, as her cheeks flamed with guilt at making Mara uneasy. You're a good example. She was supposed to be the calm one here.

"I'm okay," she mumbled.

Mara crept closer, a tentative smile teasing the edges of her mouth. "You really don't like this guy, huh?" You have no idea. Asajj exhaled huffily.

"No," was the simple reply. Mara did not know about her Sith assassin past, and Asajj meant to keep it that way. Besides, she didn't need to know. She nodded in understanding anyway.

"I'll wait here with you," she decided, apparently assuming that Asajj needed some time to think. Ventress could not help but smile in reply. This was her Light right here. No matter what the past may have held-or what hurts Dooku would bring up with his presence- she had an anchor to the Light. And no one; nothing would take that away.

Once again, Asajj wondered why exactly she sought out Obi-wan. Was it to demand information about Dooku; or for something else?

Did she look for unbiased guidance, understanding? That was usually why people went to Obi-wan, she had learned. She was no different. His blind eyes seemed to see beyond whatever words could be constructed as an excuse to the heart of things. He seemed to always know what to do.

She hoped he would know now.

"No. No, let's go," she straightened and continued on her way to the general meeting place of the family. It had only been a few hours since Dooku was brought back by Ahsoka and Jinx. Obi-wan should have some info on it by now.

The doors to his quarters opened. Asajj stopped dead in the doorway and sighed. She should have known she would not be the only one who was anxious to know Dooku's imminent fate. Inside the room, the rest of the family had also congregated, the only members missing being Ahsoka, Jinx, Intrepid and Obi-wan.

When the door opened, everyone looked up. "Well," Nava observed from the kitchen, where she already had a cup of tea waiting for them. "Come in, ladies. I assume you've heard the latest Temple scandal?" She inquired.

"We did," Mara agreed, pushing past into the room. "Saji is all fired up about it," leave it to Mara to discuss her mental state with everybody. "Who is this guy?" She demanded; having been born after the Clone War ended.

"You knew Dooku," Lando pointed out. "Remember? He was a Sith at the Palace?" Mara wrinkled her nose at the memory, taking her cup delicately.

"Yeah, but is that why everyone's so fired up about him?" She asked.

"Nah," Han snorted. "Yan Dooku or Darth Tyrannous, whichever strikes your fancy, is the one who started the Clone War," he gave the break-down to Mara when she headed over to sit amongst her friends on the couch. The five of them were squashed together like peas in a pod, but none of them seemed to mind having little to no breathing room.

Mara's face turned grave. She glanced interrogatively at Asajj, but said nothing. She didn't know what role her mentor had played in the Clone War; but she had probably sensed Asajj's fury at the Sith being mentioned.

"That kriffing sleemo!" Mara cried, outraged.

"Language, Mara," Asajj scolded instinctively.

"I know where she learned that from," Padme growled, fixing her daughter with a disapproving look. Leia feigned innocence.

"Guilt by association!" Leia pleaded her case, pointing quite deliberately at her native Huttese speaker father. Anakin didn't try to defend himself. He shrugged apologetically, avoiding Leia's eyes.

Asajj leaned over the counter, completely ignoring her tea. "Where's Obi-wan?" She asked Nava in a whisper. The other woman didn't seem at all alarmed by the fact that Asajj was asking after the whereabouts of her unofficial husband.

"With the Council, briefing Ahsoka and Jinx on this new anomaly," she replied crisply. "Intrepid is working over Dooku-he was badly injured by his escape," she informed them.

"How did he escape, I wonder?" Rex put in contemplatively, where he and Cody stood next to Padme and Anakin. "I thought the Sith would have killed him right after we escaped," he pointed out.

"That's true," Padme agreed. "If he's not useful, why keep him alive?" Nava snorted.

"Arrogance," was the sure reply. "They figure he could be entertainment for when they get bored. Besides, who would have thought he might escape? And how?" she speculated.

"The vents," Luke and Leia guessed in unison.

"We'll have to ask him," Rex sighed, resolving himself to the option of being patient and waiting. It was a Jedi thing he had picked up. Asajj had no intention of doing the same. Lux let out a bitter laugh. Ventress glanced at him. The Force around him was sluggish-as if it were water being slowly churned into thick mud-she sensed hurts that had not healed, and grievances unaddressed. She was not the only one with a bad history with Dooku.

A point which was further proven when suddenly the doors opened and a familiar face popped in, features twisted into expression of anger which rolled off him in waves, like thunder clouds.

"Where is he?" Admiral Ackbar demanded, hoarsely.

"Not here," Ahsoka reported shortly.

"Come in, Admiral," Nava invited him calmly, pouring another cup of tea. Ventress wished she would have put a little something extra into hers. She would need it. "We were just discussing what the council should ask Dooku…."

"We shouldn't ask him anything," Lux growled. "We should tell him. What punishment will he receive?" Padme and Nava glanced at each other, uneasily.

"Or will he even get one?" Asajj scoffed, having caught that look. Nava sighed and turned back to her.

"He saved us all, Asajj," she pointed out, softly.

"He's a monster," Ackbar cried, echoing her thoughts exactly. Her fists clenched. Her face burned with ire. He couldn't just get away with a slap on the hand. The Jedi couldn't just forgive him for this.

"I think it's been proven that those of the Dark can be Turned back," Padme pointed out, looking from her to Anakin and back. Asajj snorted. Turned back? She wanted to demand. Is that what you call us, as if it's a choice of picking one side or the other? Your husband has been gone for nearly a year and I still feel hatred as easily as the day I first tasted the Dark's power.

She didn't say it, but her glare must have said something along the lines of it, because Rex crept a bit closer to Padme in a movement that was not overtly threatening but definitely protective. He had taken it upon himself when Anakin left to protect Skywalker's wife and children as if he were their own father; and Anakin noticed. His eyes flashed.

Yeah, Ventress thought. We've totally Turned back.

"I agree with Ackbar," Lux spoke up. "Dooku has done too much-killed too many-just to be let off the hook so easily. I'm not saying we can't forgive him," from the tone of his voice, Asajj had the distinct feeling that he would not be forgiving the Sith anytime soon, if ever. "But we can't ignore what he's done either. The people who have Turned back have shown their repentance," that was stated loosely, in her opinion, but she appreciated the gesture.

Lux crossed his arms. "He hasn't," he harrumphed.

"We hear you, Lux," Anakin agreed softly, to the surprise of many. They looked over to see Anakin studying his prosthetic arm thoughtfully, eyes limpid with memories. "Fifteen years ago, I would have given anything to see that man dead. He was part of the catalyst which has led to…" he gestured around, to the torn remnants of a Jedi Order relocated.

"All of this. Yet what punishment would even be sufficient justice for everything he did? The thousands of clones that gave their lives in a war he started, the planets he ransacked, the Jedi that fell to his blade, the people he tricked? What can he possibly do to make up for that?" He asked; and it went unspoken that he was despairingly asking a question that plagued his own mind about himself.

What can he possibly do to make up for that?

There wasn't anything. Nothing but death, and Anakin couldn't choose that. Asajj felt pity stir in her heart for a second, but she pushed it aside in favor of wondering another question. Would the Jedi kill Dooku? If they didn't, would he be allowed to roam the temple? Would she be Forced to speak with that horrid monster?

And perhaps most important, should she have the chance to speak to Darth Tyrannous again, what in all the hells would she say?

~Dooku's POV~

It hurt. He hurt, for Force sakes. His every muscle trembled beneath an invisible weight, and despite the fact that the hands touching him were gentle, each prod and poke was like pouring hot liquid metal into his veins, setting him aflame and weighing him down even more. His bones sagged in the meat of his frame, which was not a considerable amount of meat. He had not eaten in a few days, after all.

The pain took up most of his attention. It was becoming increasingly harder to focus on anything but the blasted ache in his very heart, problems of gross matter seeping into the luminous body beneath. He could easily fall unconscious and feel nothing. Yet an insistent question kept him on the brink of awake and asleep, in pain and relief from agony. He wanted to be free so badly, but he had to know.

It felt as if it took centuries for him to slowly open his eyes. His eyelids were heavy. The light hurt his iris's. He remembered words falling into his ears, tumbling around in a swirling tornado of relief, but that was earlier. He had to see whether the case was still the same, if he was still welcomed. If he was still among Jedi. It felt surreal, to be near Light again after so long. He had forgotten what it felt like, and did not know now. He was too consumed by his own exhaustion.

"Ugh," he groaned miserably, as the light assaulted his every sense. His vision warbled, blurring and fading. His nose picked up the acrid scent of his own sweat and he gagged. His fingers tingled with heat and the steady thump of his own heart nearly deafened him. He dragged his eyes open still more. "Ugh," he addressed the young face swimming before his warbled vision.

He felt a hand on his forehead. It was gentle. He basked in the kindness of it for a moment, unaccustomed to such treatment. It was Light, pure and unhidden. He gaped. "Careful, Count," it took a moment to understand what she was saying. His vision cleared, showing him a Twi'lek. She looked like a Jedi, and the Light halo surrounding her was ample evidence of it, but he had to ask. He had to know.

"You're very sick. Rest now," she ordered. He shook his head apologetically. He hated to disobey her, especially because he could sense that she was only trying to help him, but he had to know.

"J…" he struggled to Force the words past a throat parched from dehydration and weariness. "Jedi? I-I'm here?" I'm home? If such a paradise could be called that. He had dreamed of it for years, led by the Force as if on a leash. The apparition above gave him a quizzical and slightly curious look, but did not deny him any relief.

"Yes," his heart exploded in joy. "Yes, master. You're here, among us. You're safe. Now please, rest," and that was all he needed to know. Overjoyed, Dooku finally let go and surrendered to the demands of gross matter. His mind literally slipped into the deep waters of dreamless slumber. His cares drifted into the currents of the Force. He could learn about his fate and his injuries tomorrow, or whenever. For now, he was back. He was home.

For now, he could pretend that they were all safe at last.