~Dooku's POV~

Sidious was having a fit again. Not in the usual way of fits, certainly, the dark master was too dignified for such a feat.

Sidious had fits quietly, eerily. The force burned about them as if they were in a furnace. His fury smothered them in its killing smoke.

Still they bowed. His nature was to be dark, theirs to be obedient for a time until they succeeded him. The strong survived while the weak died, and it was part of the ways of the universe that in time all things grew weak.

Even Sidious.

"Tell me this, Lord Vader," Sidious rasped out, his spidery fingers clicked delicately on the stems of his chair as he glared down at them.

Dooku studied his boots, undaunted. "Why did your spy not warn you of this attack beforehand?" Sidious hissed, calm voice a dripping mockery of their spy, Vader and the galaxy in general. Dooku was not intimidated by such uncivilized threats as posture. They were as idle as words spewed from the mouth of an ignorant man.

"I do not know, my will be punished, I promise you," Vader assures him, smoothly, but Dooku, having trained an apprentice, was well aware of the slight pleading note within the buffoon's voice.

Sidious pretended to be absent to the fact that Vader, unlike any other Sith, was truly dedicated to him. He was loyal to a fault, and sought praise like no other.

That was why he was weak, no better than his Jedi clone.

"Half of our fleet is now unfeasible. Our resources have dwindled because of this attack. I am not pleased," the older dark minions leaned against his armrest, fingers still clicking, like the sounds of fire ants over marble. "Forgive me, my master," Vader implored, huskily.

Dooku rolled his eyes in disgust. The universe would never see him begging another being at will, nor unwillingly either. He would have to have died first. "I will oversee his punishment myself, along with yours for your lack of prudence," Sidious snapped back.

Beneath the suit, Dooku was sure that Vader must have paled. He smiled at the thought. The skin was so chalky and gaunt that if he could pale anymore it would be white as a sheet.

"Darth Tyrannous," he was addressed. He looked up just as Vader slunk away out of the door and into the bowels of the ship to sulk. That was what loyalty gained for you, more pain. He would know.

"You have captured young Bonteri?" He asked. Dooku had no clue why Sidious had asked. The Sith seemed to know everything about his whereabouts beforehand.

"Yes my master," he answered anyway. "Good. Good. He has information about the Rebels plans-confiscate them from him, by use of the force is necessary," Sidious hissed. Dooku could not have asked for a better assignment. "I understand, my master. Is there anything I particular you would like me to… Commandeer?" he wondered slyly.

Cherished memories sounded like a good start. Already Lux had displayed his charming capacity for attachment and revenge. Perhaps the Empire could employ a new soldier.

"Yes, that rescue contraption, who in the universe invented it? Since Darth Vader's spy has not brought us the answer, I leave it in your hands," at last. Sidious should have known better than to entrust such information in the keeping of Vader.

He was young, technically not even two years old yet. Something many Sith had not forgotten to mention behind his back. Dooku heard their snide remarks. The shadows was a good place to stay hidden until dawn could come. The true dawn. "I will not fail you my master," he was, after all infallible.

He made sure to accentuate the 'I.' Sidious should have given over the case of the Rebellion's spy over to him from the start. However, lately the Sith seemed to favor the clone over Dooku. He had the oddest feeling he was being replaced. Yet he had his own plans in place…

"I feel confident in leaving this in your hands, Tyrannous," Sidious believed he was just his little lap dog, didn't he? He believed that Dooku was just as blindly loyal to him as Vader was. He was a corrupt old fool, and his end was at a nearing point.

Perfection presided under no one's wing.

Three days later:

~Anakin's POV~

"What do you mean there's nothing we can do?" Anakin demanded, irately confounded as he trailed Obi-wan across the crowded and loud hangar bay, where ships were being prepared for another assault on Empire forces. The bustling port resounded with the calls and echoes of clones, nearly muting their own rather one-sided argument.

Anakin screwed his mouth into displeasure. He certainly did not like walking behind Obi-wan, like some sort of Padawan Learner again. He was a Knight now, thank you very much. Obi-wan's set pace and the amount of people crisscrossing his path had so forth kept him behind his mentor.

"Exactly what I said," Obi-wan replied mildly, in his: 'you're being an emotional wreck again, Anakin, so I'm not going to listen to you' voice. Anakin had made the decision years earlier that he'd be damned if Obi-wan would keep ignoring him….Yet these were unworthy thoughts, and Anakin knew them to be fallacious thoughts from a unforgiving heart.

Nonetheless, he stared after Obi-wan's back, eyes narrowing. "We can't just leave him there, Obi-wan!" he hissed, following him adamantly. It had been three days since Lux had been captured, and in that time, the anxiety from the girls and a majority of people who knew Lux had spread.

The force rippled with it. Anakin had promised Ahsoka they would do something, and he would keep that promise. They were worried about him-scared for him.

Anakin remembered the feeling, had gone through it himself several times. He understood. Didn't Obi-wan sense it? Didn't he care?

"Anakin, I understand your concern," wasn't this a familiar way to start a conversation? Anakin was tired of having these, tired of being the one on defense. At the same time this was why they were brothers, because they were opposites, doomed to quarrel over complete and utter nonsense like whether blasting themselves into the Empire fleet looking for Lux, was right, or not.

"But you know there isn't anything we can do. What do you propose? That we go barging into enemy territory to save one person? We cannot risk many lives on the account of one," and just why the hells not? Lux had risked his life on the account of many. Besides, all the men were willing. Why not repay the favor?

Anakin swerved underneath two clones carrying a long pole on their shoulders before continuing his harassment. "Why not? We're going to attack them soon anyway. Send another team in to retrieve him," he pointed out.

Obi-wan nodded. "That would be a valid plan if the Sith weren't already privy to that tactic. Once we've used it once it would be folly to use it again against the same adversary. You know this," Anakin knew that this was a load of boshooda.

"Master, Lux is a part of our family. He's like a brother to Ahsoka and Intrepid. They're a team. Lux sacrificed himself for the Rebellion, and his bravery should not go in vain. We can't just sit here and do nothing, Obi-wan," he growled back, finally managing to push his way to Obi-wan's side instead of behind him.

Obi-wan did not look at him, whether this was to keep the aloof expression on his face intact or because he would not know where to look anyway was not Anakin's primary concern. "We aren't doing nothing, Anakin, and…" Obi-wan trailed off with a dodge past a line of Artoo units. His lips screwed into overtaxed patience.

"Blast it; I can't see anything in here, much less where in the blazes you are with all the force signatures about. Come on," grabbing Anakin's arm, Obi-wan dragged them through the crowd to the secluded halls.

Finally, Obi-wan faced him, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. Anakin stood before him, energy cascading through him, his heart urging him to go, to save, to protect.

Lux was a good man; he was a good kid. Anakin could not leave him to die, not when he sacrificed himself to save people he loved. Lux did not deserve to die, not this early in his life, not with all the good he had done.

Anakin nodded, glad with this new arrangement, and then continued his tirade. "You mean that the council won't do anything? Anakin demanded again.

"We can't do anything, Anakin. Because we are at war, in case you'd fail to notice. Would you like more men to die just to save Lux? He would not want that, we both know it," Obi-wan retorted.

"If we don't go then he will die, and I don't think he'd like that either. How can you be so nonchalant about this, Obi-wan? I know you sense the other's grief," he ground out. He hated it when Obi-wan did this. He hated that emotionless mask. He hated the Code, which forbade them to save the ones they loved.

"I am not being nonchalant, Anakin…" Obi-wan began. "Well, you don't seem too concerned," Anakin interrupted. Obi-wan sighed and stroked his beard. "Anakin," he said again, gentler this time.

"You know I care about Lux just as much as you do, but this is out of our hands. His fate is now up to the force. Any rescue team we send in would be shot down before they even got there. More men lost, more lives taken, more families split apart. Don't sacrifice a thousand lives just to save one," he quoted firmly, with that same irritating teacher tone. Anakin hated quotes, too.

For force sakes when would Obi-wan get it through his thick skull that Anakin was not a youngling anymore? He knew what was best for his family. And abandoning them to die was not the best.

"Never leave a man behind!" He bit back. "There has to be something we can…" he began again, desperately, heatedly. He hated being idle. He hated being helpless. "You are letting your emotions cloud your judgment, search the force," Anakin didn't want to search the force.

He already knew what to do. Obi-wan gave a caustic cock of the eyebrow, sensing his defiance clear as day. "You are a reincarnation of Qui-gon, aren't you?" He murmured.

He continued before Anakin could answer. "And there is something we can do. We must have faith. Lux is a strong man, I wouldn't count him out just yet," said the famous Negotiator. After more than decade of living with him, his words bounded off Anakin's armor like tiny rocks flown at a shield.

"Lux is a good kid. Faith won't save him. How can you stand there and let him go through the same torture you've experienced? You know that is what he's being put through," Obi-wan cringed, but showed no other signs of emotion. Anakin felt a pang of guilt for bringing the subject up, but he stayed his ground steadfastly.

"Yes, I do know that. But I also know that he sacrificed himself for Ahsoka and Intrepid… To prevent further bloodshed. Should not we honor his sacrifice by not adding more lost lives in order to save him from a fate he chose? He would blame himself for their deaths and you know it. Why would you put your own wants above his own? Do not let your own selfish emotions blind you to these facts," Obi-wan said sharply.

Anakin swallowed rather painfully. "Don't let your blasted logic distract you from what's right," he bit back.

"Forsaking his sacrifice is right?" Obi-wan demanded, aghast. "Letting him die is right?" They glared at one another for a moment more, in a deadlock.

Anakin exhaled with difficulty. "He's just a kid," He pleaded again, softly. Obi-wan nodded, and he exhaled as well. Anakin reached out, hesitantly, to touch the force, and felt the same ache in his chest in Obi-wan's own. This was killing them both. One for having to help make the decision and the other for having to live with the decision made.

"That kid is a mere handful of years younger than you, Anakin. He knew the consequences of what he was doing when he did it. He accepted this as a potential fate. Now we will honor his sacrifice by abiding by his wishes," there was no argument in Obi-wan's voice. The choice was made.

If only it did not hurt so much.

Anakin sighed and leaned against the opposite wall, eyes cast upwards. He refused to give up the fight. He had promised Snips. "Lux is like Ahsoka's brother," he continued, softly.

"When you were captured, master-force, I was dying with the agony of worrying over you. I don't want Ahsoka to feel that," he explained quietly, his heart breaking with it, with the burden placed upon them by birthright.

"I know," Obi-wan agreed, quietly. They stayed silent another moment, the past weighing heavily on their present, the future dully benighted by their present. "How about a compromise?" Obi-wan suggested at length.

Anakin looked up, wondering how there could be a compromise in this situation. "We have spies aboard the Empire cruisers. Not many, but a few. They could keep an eye out for Lux. Meanwhile, we must stay put. We are Jedi," Obi-wan reminded him, as if the lightsaber currently on his hip was not sufficient enough reminder of the role they played.

"That won't save him," he pointed out. "No it will not, but at least it will give us an idea of how he's doing. And you know Lux, he's no force-sensitive but he's got the Jedi spirit. I wouldn't put it past him to escape without our assistance," no, neither would Anakin.

He ran a hand through his hair, daring to consult the force, and now that he did he realized it conveyed the same message to be patient, to wait for its outcome, to have faith in its decision, in Lux's ability, to be able to let go for the sake of justice and love. Patience. Serenity. Prudence.

Maybe he did not hate it so much anymore. It still hurt, made his heart clench, yet he knew what he must do. He had to wait, and the compromise was not a bad one. He imagined it'd be difficult enough to convince the council to do that one small act.

He exhaled anxiety, inhaled patience. "Alright," he said, huskily. He hated being so helpless. "Alright, it's something at least," he finished. Obi-wan nodded, grim as he.

Yet the light shined on. It did not dim or flicker in the face of challenge and loss. Neither should they. It did not mope or grieve the forgotten or destroyed. It moved on, it healed; it adapted and purified. And it expected the same of its servants. After all, they were Jedi.

If only it did not hurt so much. "I know," Obi-wan agreed softly, and Anakin knew he did, knew they shared the dislike of helplessness. They both hated it. The only difference was that one of them had learned patience, had accepted serenity.

"Yet this is the consequence of loving as a Jedi, Anakin. You of all people should know that war accompanies love. We must be willing to let go, or else it is attachment and not love," Anakin knew this.

He knew it fundamentally, and in a part of his brain that always knew these things. His heart cried out in rebel, though. He had found mind and heart often did not agree with one another.

Yet the mind was usually right.

"I hate it when you're right, old man," he grumbled. Obi-wan grinned. "Me too," he said. "And believe me, I hate the thought of Lux being at the mercy of that…That monster just as much as you do, I'd charge in there at your side if I could but," Obi-wan heaved a sigh.

"We cannot. There are things greater than us, and what we want. It's the simple way of things. There will always be peace in the end," he reminded him optimistically. "Whatever end that may be," Anakin added. He groaned. "What are we going to tell the others?" he wondered miserably.

"They'll understand," Obi-wan assured him, straightening up. "For now, we do have a battle to get ready for. That should halt all attentions the Sith have on Lux anyhow. Ilum is our primary concern," he said determinedly. "And with the amount of lives lost and what Lux is going through," Anakin felt the ball in his chest tighten into steel determination.

"We had better not lose this fight," he growled, fists clenching. "I want to see the Sith running away with their tails between their legs like the cowards they are," he sneered. "You're so vindictive," Obi-wan told him, disapprovingly. Anakin shrugged, beginning his walk down the hall. Obi-wan followed him.

"Don't you chastise me, one of us has to be the emotional one of this team, or else you'd drive yourself mad with your own logic," Anakin informed him firmly. Obi-wan rolled his eyes.

"I prefer to think I went mad years ago because of your unswerving, unsubstantiated reasoning's," he quipped.

This was what they did, when the going got tough, the tough began making fun of the universe and each other in general. "What? That can't be right. You were insane already when I met you. I might have heightened it but I didn't start it," he defended, lips quirking up.

"Good point. It was Qui-gon's doing then," Obi-wan contemplated, with a nod. "I'm pretty sure all of his pathetic creatures had to have been at least a little odd before he chose them," he thought aloud.

After all, technically, Qui-gon had been the founder of their little family, and force knew they were all weird. "We will place the blame on Garen. It's the only way," Obi-wan declared.

"Garen used to say you were nuts as a three year old," Anakin argued. "He was jealous, I promise you. Anyway, it's a native trait then," he said with a wave of his hand. Anakin nodded. "We'll blame your parents," he decided. Obi-wan's face brightened with this idea.

"True. They doubtless dropped me a couple times on my head at birth. That's another reason why I'm probably so hard-headed," he said. Anakin chuckled. "Ah, parenthood. Now, who made me crazy?" He wondered.

Obi-wan shuddered and patted his shoulder comfortingly. "Let's not get into this," he suggested. Anakin laughed.