Thirteen
Cos Palpatine scowled over the table at Baron Kerov Raskovik, who was insufferably calm. Baron Raskovik gazed back at Palpatine, who was just being insufferable. The conference room on the Killer Whale looked out over the hanger; crewmembers bustled about their ships far below.
"It was a good thing, was it not, that the Device taken by Herzlos was a fake? It would be simply awful if it had fallen into the wrong hands..."
"Oh, indeed."
Palpatine was giving nothing away. Here was a man who practically superglued his cards to his chest. But Baron Raskovik was extremely good at poker. And here he held the best hand.
We know what you are.
"So where is the real Device?"
"My dear chap," Raskovik twinkled at him, "You really think I'm going to tell you that?"
Palpatine gave him a sickly smile, "Of course not. I simply want to be reassured it is safely in your hands, Baron."
"Of course. Rest assured, Chancellor; no one is getting their hands on it. We have very effective ways of discouraging people."
The 'very effective' was slightly emphasised. It was only fair to give the chap warning. Hopefully he'd be intelligent enough to take the hint. Palpatine was still being difficult about the peace talks, and so, after lengthy discussions with his son, Madame Magog, Dooku and Master Yoda; he'd decided to bring out the big guns.
Cos Palpatine assumed a look of concern; "There is still no news of Miss Magog?"
Raskovik clicked his fingers, "Oh, drat. Did we not mention it before? Little Tiahn is quite safe and well, you'll be pleased to hear."
Palpatine's face was a picture. Raskovik took the image and filed it away in his brain, amongst the memories he kept to cheer himself up whenever he felt depressed.
Gotcha!
"Oh, that is good news," the Chancellor finally managed, "I feel responsible..."
"And so you should. Giving the dear girl such a fright like that. Consider yourself lucky we're not filing charges for false imprisonment."
The change in Palpatine when he heard those words was quite unsettling. The avuncular face hardened, and yellow light seemed to grow in his pupils. Raskovik rose an eyebrow.
"So," the voice had changed, too, rasping and clipped, "You know," the man looked contemplative for a second, "She's a remarkable young lady, Miss Magog."
"Indeed she is. Very good at getting herself into ridiculous situations. Fortunately, she's also quite adept at getting herself out."
"Oh, I know," Palpatine's face split into a vulpine smile, then the yellow eyes pierced the Baron, "I presume you have informed the Jedi..."
"Actually, no," The Baron smiled thinly at the look of suprise on the man's face, "It's really none of our business whatever... religion you decide to practice. However, you should be aware that I will protect my people from harm. I care not if that harm is from you or the Separatists. I'm rather fond of little Tiahn, she's had very difficult life, you know."
"Are you threatening me?" The look of amusement on Palpatine's face was not meant to be encouraging. Raskovik looked calmly back at him.
"Yes."
Palpatine rose slowly from his seat, "I could kill you now. And have your fleet blasted from the skies."
The Baron sat back in his chair, which creaked under his weight, steepled his fingers and pursed his lips. "Oh, you could. I daresay you could kill me, quite effortlessly, if I'm honest. I'm quite out of shape. My swashbuckling days are over. But isn't that your Capital Planet just over there? My fleet is very experienced, and the range of our guns is long. You might find yourself facing rather a lot of difficult questions should a scrap break out. Not to mention the paper work."
Raskovik looked up; "We have no quarrel with you, Supreme Chancellor. Not yet. We would only inform the Jedi in the rare event of your providing us with a... reason."
He waited. Palpatine regarded him steadily, then smiled.
"Blackmail, withholding information, underhandedness, threats - I like your style! I can respect bravery also, Baron Raskovik. There are few people without the Force who dare do what you have, knowing what I am."
The Sith crossed to the window, and gazed down upon the Voistoki swarming about in the hanger. "You really are an infuriating species. But I find your attitude refreshing. And intriguing. Very well, I will concede to these talks. Would you be so kind as to convey my apologies to Miss Magog? I really did not intend her any harm; I simply could not afford to let her run off to the Jedi."
Palpatine turned back to Raskovik, and smiled, "She's a fascinating young lady. I shall watch her career with... great interest."
Raskovik couldn't help but notice the hunger in the Sith's eyes. Thank the gods the dear girl wasn't here. It would be good policy to keep her as far the hell away from this man. Dooku at least could be trusted with her welfare.
"Oh, you can look, my dear chap," he told Palpatine with a nasty little smile, "But don't touch. She's ours."
"D'you wanna tell me what the hell all that was about last night?"
Anakin was cross-legged on the floor, tackling a particularly tricky circuit board in the Manta's cockpit, "Nothing much, really. I just wanted to get a few things straight with the Count. Hand me that hydrospanner will you?"
"Here y'go. So, what things were these?" Tiahn settled herself in the copilot's chair and watched Skywalker's hands deftly manipulating the spanner.
"The last time I spoke to Palpatine, he seemed to be setting me up for another fight with Dooku. I just wanted to make sure that doesn't happen," he looked up at her, "So I decided to - well, forgive him. What happened on Geonosis wasn't personal. And he wasn't particularly proud of himself in that fight, I think."
Tiahn cocked her head to one side, "He's still a Sith, Anakin. You might not have the choice not to fight him."
Anakin sighed, putting the spanner down and leaning back, "I know. But if it comes to that, Force forbid, I won't fight him with anger," he looked up at her again, "I can't judge him, Ti. I was falling in exactly the same way. With me, it was Mom dying..."
She nodded, seeing his point, "And it was Qui Gon with him."
"Have you told him yet? About meeting Qui Gon?"
"Not yet."
"Why don't you?"
"I dunno how he'd take it," she fiddled with a loose thread on the arm of the chair, glancing at him from the corner of her eye, "You think I should sort some things out with him too."
"OK, I'm pointing out the obvious here, but he's your father. You might never have got the chance to meet him, so don't waste it now you got it."
Tiahn found Dooku by following the sound of lightsabre clashes. Passing through a huge wooden door, she found herself in a chamber about a hundred foot square, but she barely gave it a glance. The occupants were far more interesting.
She'd just known Konni would be wanting to have a go.
Arkadi Dooku and Konstan Raskovik were executing a duel that would have had the judges at the Cherevin Sword Festival on their feet. Rakovik held a lightsabre, and had no trouble at all with this new weapon. The Count had removed his cloak; without it's obscuring shadows, he had broad shoulders and a trim figure. Konni was in his shirtsleeves and, she thought with a wry smile, he wasn't a bad looking figure of a man either. Both men looked almost like they were dancing about each other, the movements were so graceful.
Tiahn watched it in awe. I am never, ever, going to be that good, she thought.
"Ah, Tiahn, there you are. How are you feeling today?" Dooku said to her as he blocked a lightning fast thrust from Konni.
"Lot better, thanks. I'd like a wee word with you when you two are finished."
Konni disengaged from the Count, stood straight and held his blade up before him in salute, "I shall leave you two to talk, your Grace. I should go and assist Skywalker, in any case."
Dooku repeated the formal gesture, and nodded to the Colonel, "Very well. My thanks to you, Raskovik. I enjoyed that."
"As did I, these really are remarkable weapons" Konni looked admiringly at his blade, then switched it off and placed it on a nearby rack. He turned to Tiahn, "See you later, old thing. Try not to punch him."
"Gods almighty! It only happened once, it's not like I go about slugging folk..."
Raskovik chuckled, picked up his discarded jacket and took his leave. Tiahn looked over at Dooku, took a breath, held it, blew it out. Right, then.
Her father approached her and took her face in his hands, inspecting her cut; "That seems to be clearing up most satisfactorily. You feel quite well? No light headedness?"
"I'm fine. Those painkillers are the business."
"Splendid. So, what did you want to talk to me about?" he led her over to a tool laden table by the far wall. She pulled herself up to sit on it and watched as Dooku seated himself on a chair, produced his sabre and placed it in a vice. He picked up a few delicate looking tools and glanced up at her.
"Sabres require maintenance occasionally. I suspect a loose wire; I gave myself a few rather nasty shocks just there." She nodded.
"Not what you want to happen during a real scrap."
"Indeed. What do you want to tell me?" Dooku's long fingers gently opened up the side of his sabre with the dexterity of a surgeon.
Tiahn pursed her lips; "I'm trying to think of how to put this. I'm glad you're sitting down."
The Count smirked as he probed inside the handle, "You're not going to tell me I'm about to be become a grandfather, are you?"
"What? No! I'm not pregnant! I'm not even going out with anyone!"
She gawked at Dooku. His shoulders were shaking as he quietly chuckled. Her eyes narrowed.
"You git. Stop winding me up. I'm bloody nervous enough as it is!"
"My apologies. I'm merely trying to lighten the situation," The Count paused in his repairs and looked up at his daughter, giving her a weak smile.
Tiahn stared into his eyes; and came to the enlightening conclusion...
He's just as nervous as I am!
Tension fled from her. Tiahn smiled back at him, and took his hand in her own.
"Must have been a right shock when you found out about me. How did you find out?"
Dooku's mouth twitched; "Shock? I nearly had a heart attack. Oh, Lord Sidious took great pleasure in informing me..."
Tiahn scowled. Palpatine must have gone straight from his office, probably to that building in the Industrial sector, to crow about it to Dooku. "I'll bet he did."
"He gave me a cigar," Dooku saw the incredulous expression upon Tiahn's face, "He has a very... well developed sense of humour. Usually at other people's expense."
Tiahn smirked at him; "You smoked it yet?"
His remarkable eyebrows rose, "I've had other things to occupy my time. I'd... like to apologise for drugging you. It was an ill considered move..."
"Aye, well, I'm sorry I punched you. What WAS that stuff anyway?"
"A venom produced by a creature living on the moons of Bogden. I stayed there for some time. It is a large reptile, which moves rather slowly. Thus, it ambushes its prey, injects the venom and simply waits until the victim loses consciousness. The venom is not toxic; should the victim escape..."
"They get over it," Tiahn finished, then flashed him a cheeky smile; "Funny, that reptile sounds like someone I know..."
"Well, we can learn much from the animal kingdom," Dooku treated her to a lupine grin, the light from his opened sabre lighting up his long face from below. It looked very impressive, not to mention unsettling. Tiahn grinned lopsidedly, then looked down at her hands in her lap.
"I... had a bit of a weird experience after all that. When we got back to the Temple, I conked out and," she moved her hands, trying to find the right words, "Yoda says I fell into - some kind of mad trance thing."
The Count leaned back in his chair with his arms folded, looking extremely amused, " 'Some kind of mad trance thing'? I hardly think that is the kind of vocabulary Master Yoda would employ!"
Tiahn had a vision of Yoda doing exactly that and snorted with laughter, "Why does he talk like that?"
Dooku shrugged, "Master Yoda is very old, and comes from a far more formal age. I also suspect he does it to annoy people. And so, what happened during this 'mad trance'?" He gave her his full, formidable attention.
She took a deep breath; "I met Qui Gon, Dad."
No reaction. The Count kept right on staring at her, and Tiahn got an idea of how anyone interrogated by him might feel. You wanted to break the awful silence, filling up the space, to get some kind of reaction from him. Dooku staring at you and doing nothing was just as unsettling; if not more; than Dooku doing something. Like a black hole. He sucked things in from people around him, and nothing escaped from him.
"He misses you."
Still no reaction.
"He um, asked to help out Anakin and Obi. And he's glad you and Mum are together."
STILL no reaction. Right, here goes...
"And, um, Dad? He, he thinks it's not too late for you. Stopping being a Sith, I mean. You don't have to go back to the Jedi, I mean, I can see where you're coming from there; I was ready to smack some of the Council's heads a few times back there. They're so bloody anal retentive sometimes."
This got an eyebrow raised. Tiahn wasn't sure if this was a good sign or a bad sign. Then Dooku slowly rose to his full height. She suddenly felt very, very small.
"Ah, Qui Gon," he whispered, "You always did try to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Even if it was a thermal detonator."
He stalked around the table to face Tiahn. She braced herself. The glint in the Count's dark eyes looked dangerous, the little smile on his face was far, far more threatening than a display of fury. Leaning over her, taking her chin in his hand, he asked softly;
"You want to save me from the Dark, my little one? Do you believe that I want to be saved?"
His eyes pulled in her gaze, almost hypnotic. She saw power in there; ancient, mysterious and dangerous. Dooku was dangerous. You could forget that; with his humour, his manners, his eloquence and courtly charm. She looked into his eyes; and saw there the man who'd thrown Anakin Skywalker across a hanger with a mere gesture, who'd wiped the floor with Obi Wan Kenobi and ripped enormous chunks of living rock apart with his will.
She saw Darkness.
"I'm just telling you what Qui Gon said. I think you still miss him. I thought you'd a right to know he still cares about you."
The Count, still with that little smile on his thin lips, took his hand from her chin, put his arm about her shoulders and pulled her close. Tiahn felt cold radiating from him; it shot through her bones and muscles and coursed through her blood. She started to shiver.
"So he sends a vulnerable girl, with no knowledge of the Sith, with as much mastery of her powers as a padawan youngling; to face this?"
Still holding her; his other arm shot out, long fingers clawed, and the sapphire electricity she'd seen in the recording in the Temple Library erupted from them. It screamed across the sparring room to the huge wooden door, a whole fifty feet.
It had been frightening enough seeing it in a recording. Having it emerge a mere foot from your face...
The old wood of the door blackened and scorched, she smelled the smoke. But it wasn't merely electrical burning, something seemed to be eating into the door, opening up splits and pulling out the vibrant golden colour. Tiahn tore her gaze away from its immolation to the face of her father. He was watching her, his face as implacable as a statue's.
The Count finally dropped his arm, the light and noise ending.
"Go, child. Run back into the Light. Do not confront the Sith; you should leave such foolishness to the Jedi. Go."
He released her, and she just about fell from her seat to the floor. Eyes huge: she stared at Arkadi Dooku, Darth Tyranus, for a long moment. She managed to get up and stand.
She swayed, but then felt... like someone was standing behind her, hands on her shoulders. Supporting her. Tiahn slowly straightened, and looked her father square in the eye.
"I will do what I must," she heard the words come from her own mouth, but was damn sure she hadn't thought of them. They sounded like they belonged to someone else.
Dooku flinched, his eyes searching her, then he shook himself, glared at her and pointed to the door, "Go."
Tiahn turned, marched over to the ruined door and passed out of the room. Then she ran, and kept on running, down stairs and through corridors, did not stop until she was through the main doors of the castle and up to her knees in the snow upon the ground.
She sank down upon her knees, her breath smoking, the cold biting into her; but she could handle that. This was cold from nature. Easier to deal with than the awful chill emanating from the Count in a centrally heated room.
"You can save your father from the Dark Side," she snarled, in a sing song impersonation, "Yeah, right, Qui..." she shook her head, "Note to self: ding Qui Gon Jinn across the back o' the head next time you see him."
Cos Palpatine scowled over the table at Baron Kerov Raskovik, who was insufferably calm. Baron Raskovik gazed back at Palpatine, who was just being insufferable. The conference room on the Killer Whale looked out over the hanger; crewmembers bustled about their ships far below.
"It was a good thing, was it not, that the Device taken by Herzlos was a fake? It would be simply awful if it had fallen into the wrong hands..."
"Oh, indeed."
Palpatine was giving nothing away. Here was a man who practically superglued his cards to his chest. But Baron Raskovik was extremely good at poker. And here he held the best hand.
We know what you are.
"So where is the real Device?"
"My dear chap," Raskovik twinkled at him, "You really think I'm going to tell you that?"
Palpatine gave him a sickly smile, "Of course not. I simply want to be reassured it is safely in your hands, Baron."
"Of course. Rest assured, Chancellor; no one is getting their hands on it. We have very effective ways of discouraging people."
The 'very effective' was slightly emphasised. It was only fair to give the chap warning. Hopefully he'd be intelligent enough to take the hint. Palpatine was still being difficult about the peace talks, and so, after lengthy discussions with his son, Madame Magog, Dooku and Master Yoda; he'd decided to bring out the big guns.
Cos Palpatine assumed a look of concern; "There is still no news of Miss Magog?"
Raskovik clicked his fingers, "Oh, drat. Did we not mention it before? Little Tiahn is quite safe and well, you'll be pleased to hear."
Palpatine's face was a picture. Raskovik took the image and filed it away in his brain, amongst the memories he kept to cheer himself up whenever he felt depressed.
Gotcha!
"Oh, that is good news," the Chancellor finally managed, "I feel responsible..."
"And so you should. Giving the dear girl such a fright like that. Consider yourself lucky we're not filing charges for false imprisonment."
The change in Palpatine when he heard those words was quite unsettling. The avuncular face hardened, and yellow light seemed to grow in his pupils. Raskovik rose an eyebrow.
"So," the voice had changed, too, rasping and clipped, "You know," the man looked contemplative for a second, "She's a remarkable young lady, Miss Magog."
"Indeed she is. Very good at getting herself into ridiculous situations. Fortunately, she's also quite adept at getting herself out."
"Oh, I know," Palpatine's face split into a vulpine smile, then the yellow eyes pierced the Baron, "I presume you have informed the Jedi..."
"Actually, no," The Baron smiled thinly at the look of suprise on the man's face, "It's really none of our business whatever... religion you decide to practice. However, you should be aware that I will protect my people from harm. I care not if that harm is from you or the Separatists. I'm rather fond of little Tiahn, she's had very difficult life, you know."
"Are you threatening me?" The look of amusement on Palpatine's face was not meant to be encouraging. Raskovik looked calmly back at him.
"Yes."
Palpatine rose slowly from his seat, "I could kill you now. And have your fleet blasted from the skies."
The Baron sat back in his chair, which creaked under his weight, steepled his fingers and pursed his lips. "Oh, you could. I daresay you could kill me, quite effortlessly, if I'm honest. I'm quite out of shape. My swashbuckling days are over. But isn't that your Capital Planet just over there? My fleet is very experienced, and the range of our guns is long. You might find yourself facing rather a lot of difficult questions should a scrap break out. Not to mention the paper work."
Raskovik looked up; "We have no quarrel with you, Supreme Chancellor. Not yet. We would only inform the Jedi in the rare event of your providing us with a... reason."
He waited. Palpatine regarded him steadily, then smiled.
"Blackmail, withholding information, underhandedness, threats - I like your style! I can respect bravery also, Baron Raskovik. There are few people without the Force who dare do what you have, knowing what I am."
The Sith crossed to the window, and gazed down upon the Voistoki swarming about in the hanger. "You really are an infuriating species. But I find your attitude refreshing. And intriguing. Very well, I will concede to these talks. Would you be so kind as to convey my apologies to Miss Magog? I really did not intend her any harm; I simply could not afford to let her run off to the Jedi."
Palpatine turned back to Raskovik, and smiled, "She's a fascinating young lady. I shall watch her career with... great interest."
Raskovik couldn't help but notice the hunger in the Sith's eyes. Thank the gods the dear girl wasn't here. It would be good policy to keep her as far the hell away from this man. Dooku at least could be trusted with her welfare.
"Oh, you can look, my dear chap," he told Palpatine with a nasty little smile, "But don't touch. She's ours."
"D'you wanna tell me what the hell all that was about last night?"
Anakin was cross-legged on the floor, tackling a particularly tricky circuit board in the Manta's cockpit, "Nothing much, really. I just wanted to get a few things straight with the Count. Hand me that hydrospanner will you?"
"Here y'go. So, what things were these?" Tiahn settled herself in the copilot's chair and watched Skywalker's hands deftly manipulating the spanner.
"The last time I spoke to Palpatine, he seemed to be setting me up for another fight with Dooku. I just wanted to make sure that doesn't happen," he looked up at her, "So I decided to - well, forgive him. What happened on Geonosis wasn't personal. And he wasn't particularly proud of himself in that fight, I think."
Tiahn cocked her head to one side, "He's still a Sith, Anakin. You might not have the choice not to fight him."
Anakin sighed, putting the spanner down and leaning back, "I know. But if it comes to that, Force forbid, I won't fight him with anger," he looked up at her again, "I can't judge him, Ti. I was falling in exactly the same way. With me, it was Mom dying..."
She nodded, seeing his point, "And it was Qui Gon with him."
"Have you told him yet? About meeting Qui Gon?"
"Not yet."
"Why don't you?"
"I dunno how he'd take it," she fiddled with a loose thread on the arm of the chair, glancing at him from the corner of her eye, "You think I should sort some things out with him too."
"OK, I'm pointing out the obvious here, but he's your father. You might never have got the chance to meet him, so don't waste it now you got it."
Tiahn found Dooku by following the sound of lightsabre clashes. Passing through a huge wooden door, she found herself in a chamber about a hundred foot square, but she barely gave it a glance. The occupants were far more interesting.
She'd just known Konni would be wanting to have a go.
Arkadi Dooku and Konstan Raskovik were executing a duel that would have had the judges at the Cherevin Sword Festival on their feet. Rakovik held a lightsabre, and had no trouble at all with this new weapon. The Count had removed his cloak; without it's obscuring shadows, he had broad shoulders and a trim figure. Konni was in his shirtsleeves and, she thought with a wry smile, he wasn't a bad looking figure of a man either. Both men looked almost like they were dancing about each other, the movements were so graceful.
Tiahn watched it in awe. I am never, ever, going to be that good, she thought.
"Ah, Tiahn, there you are. How are you feeling today?" Dooku said to her as he blocked a lightning fast thrust from Konni.
"Lot better, thanks. I'd like a wee word with you when you two are finished."
Konni disengaged from the Count, stood straight and held his blade up before him in salute, "I shall leave you two to talk, your Grace. I should go and assist Skywalker, in any case."
Dooku repeated the formal gesture, and nodded to the Colonel, "Very well. My thanks to you, Raskovik. I enjoyed that."
"As did I, these really are remarkable weapons" Konni looked admiringly at his blade, then switched it off and placed it on a nearby rack. He turned to Tiahn, "See you later, old thing. Try not to punch him."
"Gods almighty! It only happened once, it's not like I go about slugging folk..."
Raskovik chuckled, picked up his discarded jacket and took his leave. Tiahn looked over at Dooku, took a breath, held it, blew it out. Right, then.
Her father approached her and took her face in his hands, inspecting her cut; "That seems to be clearing up most satisfactorily. You feel quite well? No light headedness?"
"I'm fine. Those painkillers are the business."
"Splendid. So, what did you want to talk to me about?" he led her over to a tool laden table by the far wall. She pulled herself up to sit on it and watched as Dooku seated himself on a chair, produced his sabre and placed it in a vice. He picked up a few delicate looking tools and glanced up at her.
"Sabres require maintenance occasionally. I suspect a loose wire; I gave myself a few rather nasty shocks just there." She nodded.
"Not what you want to happen during a real scrap."
"Indeed. What do you want to tell me?" Dooku's long fingers gently opened up the side of his sabre with the dexterity of a surgeon.
Tiahn pursed her lips; "I'm trying to think of how to put this. I'm glad you're sitting down."
The Count smirked as he probed inside the handle, "You're not going to tell me I'm about to be become a grandfather, are you?"
"What? No! I'm not pregnant! I'm not even going out with anyone!"
She gawked at Dooku. His shoulders were shaking as he quietly chuckled. Her eyes narrowed.
"You git. Stop winding me up. I'm bloody nervous enough as it is!"
"My apologies. I'm merely trying to lighten the situation," The Count paused in his repairs and looked up at his daughter, giving her a weak smile.
Tiahn stared into his eyes; and came to the enlightening conclusion...
He's just as nervous as I am!
Tension fled from her. Tiahn smiled back at him, and took his hand in her own.
"Must have been a right shock when you found out about me. How did you find out?"
Dooku's mouth twitched; "Shock? I nearly had a heart attack. Oh, Lord Sidious took great pleasure in informing me..."
Tiahn scowled. Palpatine must have gone straight from his office, probably to that building in the Industrial sector, to crow about it to Dooku. "I'll bet he did."
"He gave me a cigar," Dooku saw the incredulous expression upon Tiahn's face, "He has a very... well developed sense of humour. Usually at other people's expense."
Tiahn smirked at him; "You smoked it yet?"
His remarkable eyebrows rose, "I've had other things to occupy my time. I'd... like to apologise for drugging you. It was an ill considered move..."
"Aye, well, I'm sorry I punched you. What WAS that stuff anyway?"
"A venom produced by a creature living on the moons of Bogden. I stayed there for some time. It is a large reptile, which moves rather slowly. Thus, it ambushes its prey, injects the venom and simply waits until the victim loses consciousness. The venom is not toxic; should the victim escape..."
"They get over it," Tiahn finished, then flashed him a cheeky smile; "Funny, that reptile sounds like someone I know..."
"Well, we can learn much from the animal kingdom," Dooku treated her to a lupine grin, the light from his opened sabre lighting up his long face from below. It looked very impressive, not to mention unsettling. Tiahn grinned lopsidedly, then looked down at her hands in her lap.
"I... had a bit of a weird experience after all that. When we got back to the Temple, I conked out and," she moved her hands, trying to find the right words, "Yoda says I fell into - some kind of mad trance thing."
The Count leaned back in his chair with his arms folded, looking extremely amused, " 'Some kind of mad trance thing'? I hardly think that is the kind of vocabulary Master Yoda would employ!"
Tiahn had a vision of Yoda doing exactly that and snorted with laughter, "Why does he talk like that?"
Dooku shrugged, "Master Yoda is very old, and comes from a far more formal age. I also suspect he does it to annoy people. And so, what happened during this 'mad trance'?" He gave her his full, formidable attention.
She took a deep breath; "I met Qui Gon, Dad."
No reaction. The Count kept right on staring at her, and Tiahn got an idea of how anyone interrogated by him might feel. You wanted to break the awful silence, filling up the space, to get some kind of reaction from him. Dooku staring at you and doing nothing was just as unsettling; if not more; than Dooku doing something. Like a black hole. He sucked things in from people around him, and nothing escaped from him.
"He misses you."
Still no reaction.
"He um, asked to help out Anakin and Obi. And he's glad you and Mum are together."
STILL no reaction. Right, here goes...
"And, um, Dad? He, he thinks it's not too late for you. Stopping being a Sith, I mean. You don't have to go back to the Jedi, I mean, I can see where you're coming from there; I was ready to smack some of the Council's heads a few times back there. They're so bloody anal retentive sometimes."
This got an eyebrow raised. Tiahn wasn't sure if this was a good sign or a bad sign. Then Dooku slowly rose to his full height. She suddenly felt very, very small.
"Ah, Qui Gon," he whispered, "You always did try to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Even if it was a thermal detonator."
He stalked around the table to face Tiahn. She braced herself. The glint in the Count's dark eyes looked dangerous, the little smile on his face was far, far more threatening than a display of fury. Leaning over her, taking her chin in his hand, he asked softly;
"You want to save me from the Dark, my little one? Do you believe that I want to be saved?"
His eyes pulled in her gaze, almost hypnotic. She saw power in there; ancient, mysterious and dangerous. Dooku was dangerous. You could forget that; with his humour, his manners, his eloquence and courtly charm. She looked into his eyes; and saw there the man who'd thrown Anakin Skywalker across a hanger with a mere gesture, who'd wiped the floor with Obi Wan Kenobi and ripped enormous chunks of living rock apart with his will.
She saw Darkness.
"I'm just telling you what Qui Gon said. I think you still miss him. I thought you'd a right to know he still cares about you."
The Count, still with that little smile on his thin lips, took his hand from her chin, put his arm about her shoulders and pulled her close. Tiahn felt cold radiating from him; it shot through her bones and muscles and coursed through her blood. She started to shiver.
"So he sends a vulnerable girl, with no knowledge of the Sith, with as much mastery of her powers as a padawan youngling; to face this?"
Still holding her; his other arm shot out, long fingers clawed, and the sapphire electricity she'd seen in the recording in the Temple Library erupted from them. It screamed across the sparring room to the huge wooden door, a whole fifty feet.
It had been frightening enough seeing it in a recording. Having it emerge a mere foot from your face...
The old wood of the door blackened and scorched, she smelled the smoke. But it wasn't merely electrical burning, something seemed to be eating into the door, opening up splits and pulling out the vibrant golden colour. Tiahn tore her gaze away from its immolation to the face of her father. He was watching her, his face as implacable as a statue's.
The Count finally dropped his arm, the light and noise ending.
"Go, child. Run back into the Light. Do not confront the Sith; you should leave such foolishness to the Jedi. Go."
He released her, and she just about fell from her seat to the floor. Eyes huge: she stared at Arkadi Dooku, Darth Tyranus, for a long moment. She managed to get up and stand.
She swayed, but then felt... like someone was standing behind her, hands on her shoulders. Supporting her. Tiahn slowly straightened, and looked her father square in the eye.
"I will do what I must," she heard the words come from her own mouth, but was damn sure she hadn't thought of them. They sounded like they belonged to someone else.
Dooku flinched, his eyes searching her, then he shook himself, glared at her and pointed to the door, "Go."
Tiahn turned, marched over to the ruined door and passed out of the room. Then she ran, and kept on running, down stairs and through corridors, did not stop until she was through the main doors of the castle and up to her knees in the snow upon the ground.
She sank down upon her knees, her breath smoking, the cold biting into her; but she could handle that. This was cold from nature. Easier to deal with than the awful chill emanating from the Count in a centrally heated room.
"You can save your father from the Dark Side," she snarled, in a sing song impersonation, "Yeah, right, Qui..." she shook her head, "Note to self: ding Qui Gon Jinn across the back o' the head next time you see him."