XXV
Fate
After the long and uneventful journey across the galaxy, the cargo shuttle safely arrived at the planet of Geonosis with its passengers. Gunray and Naberrié had already forged an alliance between their two worlds against the Republic, and were encouraging Dooku to spearhead a 'Separatist' movement against the Sith, and the dying Republic that they controlled.
"But I am not a politician!" Dooku insisted walking down the boarding ramp, flanked by the two legislators.
"You left your Order for what you believed in," Sola Naberrie rebutted. "I am certain that the conviction you showed against the Sith and the failing Republic is shared by many more persons in power across the galaxy. Do you not think that someone needs to lead them?"
"I came here to escape the threat of the Sith," Dooku replied hotly, "so I could finish training my apprentice without disturbance."
"If what you said about her is true…" Nute Gunray interjected.
"It is true!" Dooku insisted. "I have seen it."
"So you admit it…" Gunray said. "She is special, and she will no doubt play an important role in the war that is to come. Do you not think she should be made to fight this battle alone?"
"In no way am I suggesting that we make Padmé fight for the fate of galaxy on her own!" Dooku fumed, images of lightsaber battle, and the bodies of his two previous apprentices flashing before his mind's eye. "I am just saying that I am not the one to lead the political fight for our cause – I am a Jedi, not a politician!"
"I read the file the Republic police have on you in their database back on Coruscant," Sola said, "it seems that you can be very influential politically when you want to be. Three years ago persuaded five Senators to sign a treaty in twenty minutes when it had taken trained negotiators five months just to get them to agree to meet."
"That was different," Dooku snapped, his patience with these two politicians waning. "My duty is to my Padawan. Now if you will excuse me, I have some business I need to take care of with the Geonosians. They were kind enough to let us land, but I still am not sure if we have safe lodging here yet.
The former Jedi departed in a swirl his dark cape, storming into the compound ahead of them.
Casually, Gunray turned to Sola. "I did not think that he would be this incorrigible. The Archives hail him as one of the greatest Jedi alive."
"You must understand that he has seen two of his apprentices killed by the hands of the Sith in the past few months. He's got a lot on his mind," Naberrié replied.
"Indeed he does," Gunray acknowledged, "but he still needs to remember his duty – his duty is indeed to instruct Padmé, but he also needs to remember that there is a galaxy out there that his going to need a someone to lead the political fight against the Sith."
"If we hope for our worlds to survive this catastrophe, we need to make him realize that," Gunray said. "He has been caught up in his own pain at the loss of his previous Padawans…"
Padmé struggled with the supply crate in the cramped cargo hold of the shuttle, endeavoring to finish unloading the supplies they had brought with them while she waited for the squabble that was taking place on the landing platform outside to reach an end.
She put her shoulder against the crate and slowly began pushing the crate across the floor, digging in with her heels and pushing off in a steady rhythm as the container slowly traversed the durasteel plating. It screeched painfully as it slid along. Stopping at the access hatch into the hold to take a break, Padmé was startled to feel a gentle touch on her shoulder.
"Senator," she said, looking up from her spot on the floor, leaning against the bulkhead. The Senator from Naboo had left the argument and had come to see her.
"You don't have to call me that," the other woman said, smiling.
"But – "
"No," she said softly. "You don't have to address me by my title."
"Why?"
Padmé looked up into her eyes.
"Because we're sisters," the Senator replied. "You're Padmé Naberrié, and I'm Sola Naberrié, your older sister."
Padmé didn't know what to say. She had assumed their shared last name had been purely coincidental. She was wrong.
"Mom talks about you every day," Sola said, "she's going to be very jealous when she finds out that I actually got to see you."
Padmé smiled wanly. She didn't remember anything about her family - not Sola, her sister, not her parents – nothing. The Jedi had taken her from Naboo when she was six, and more than eight years had elapsed since that time. She thought that she should have been able to remember something about her family. It was not as if she departed from her home as baby, like most Jedi.
"I don't even remember you…" she said, her eyes tearing.
"You aren't expected to," Sola said. She took Padmé's hands in hers. "It's been a long time since we saw each other…and a lot has happened to us."
Sola paused, and there was an uncomfortable period of silence that followed.
Finally, she spoke again. "I know you've been through a lot recently – your Master told me about your 'adventure' in the bowels of Coruscant – but I need to ask a favor of you."
"What is it?"
"Dooku is caught in his own feelings for his lost Padawans, and he has lost sight of what needs to be done here on Geonosis – we need you to help him see that," Sola said earnestly.
"I'll do my best," Padmé replied, standing.
She turned to walk down the ramp that led to the landing pad.
"Padmé…wait," Sola called after her.
She turned, and came back up to where Sola was waiting.
"I've missed you," she said, taking Padmé in her arms. "Sister."
Dooku sat in the dimly lit chamber deep in conversation with an old friend – Poggle the Lesser, Archduke of Geonosis. He had met the governor on his last voyage to the rocky planet, and had forged a strong friendship with him. He talked of his mission deep into the heart of the Trade Federation. Dooku also revealed the death of two of his Padawans to his friend.
Speaking in his native clicking tongue, the Geonosian expressed his condolences. Dooku listened to his friend's dialogue as his eyes roamed the chamber, analyzing the myriad depressions and curvatures in the hand-hewn stone walls that rose up to a domed ceiling and a few, sparse light fixtures that cast tawny pools of luminance onto the rough floor.
You have suffered much, Poggle said. Dooku noted what his friend said, thankful that he had taken the time five years prior to his mission to the Trade Federation to learn to understand the Geonosian language. We are willing to give you and your comrades shelter on our planet until the crisis in the central worlds of the galaxy has abated.
"I thank you for you kindness Poggle," Dooku replied, "but I fear the that crisis you speak of will soon engulf this planet as well."
Yaniko, have you no faith in us? Poggle questioned. We are craftsmen by trade – we make weapons. The Geonosians are ready to fend off any attack the enemies you spoke of could launch against us.
"I do hope you are right," Dooku said, "for if you are not, many of the lives of your people could be lost."
Poggle rose from his seat across from Dooku and made his way to a computer terminal on the wall. Punching a few keys, he activated a hologram that displayed a spherical space station, which looked more like a moon than anything. Its only distinguishing feature was a large dish set upon it with a massive laser turret in its center.
With the new weapon we have designed, Poggle said, we will easily be able to defend the planet. We have engineered a superlaser – a weapon with a thousand times the yield of a standard turbolaser.
"That is undoubtedly impressive," Dooku acknowledged, "but how do you plan to keep it from falling into enemy hands?"
We were planning to enlist someone that we could trust to lead our military forces in the defense of the weapons station, as it is not yet completed, Poggle said, clucking his response. Since you arrived, we were hoping that you would be willing to command a defense force.
"I didn't come here to lead an army, Poggle," Dooku said tiredly. "I came here in hopes of finding a safe place to continue training my Padawan."
I understand your dedication to her, Poggle chirped, but you must also realize that she is no longer your sole responsibility. By leaving your Order, you have shed light into the eyes of many star systems, some will certainly rally together to combat the Sith. They need a leader Dooku, so why do you try to shirk your obligations?
"You wouldn't understand!" Dooku snapped. "It's not like I asked to be a leader of this 'Alliance' against the Sith"
You told the galaxy you were ready to lead them against the Sith when you walked away from the Order that raised you as a child. Now, you just need to accept that fact, the Archduke said firmly. And I do think I understand what your problem is – you are hurting from losing loved ones and don't want to accept their deaths yet.
There was silence.
Dooku, he said earnestly, if you do not step up to attend to your duties, there will be more people who will have to mourn for lost friends than just you!
Angry, and unwilling to accept the truth of his friends words, Dooku stormed out of the room, into the corridor.
Walking through the dark catacombs, he came upon his apprentice, hunched over a pile of datapads that the detailed the intricacies of the Geonosian language.
"Padmé."
She looked up from her reading. "Master?"
"Has everything been unloaded from the shuttle?"
"Yes," she replied. She looked away from him, trying to avoid his eyes. She could feel the grief that he carried; she could sense how heavily it weighed upon him.
Silently Dooku paced the perimeter of the room as Padmé returned to her reading. Oddly, she felt nervous, something that she hardly felt around her master.
After a time, Dooku deigned to speak.
"Damn it!" he said, addressing no one. "This is all getting so complicated!"
"You left the Order with conviction Master," she said. "You had a vision for what you thought needed to happen. Do not let that go. I understand the pressures that are weighing down upon you. The good planets of this galaxy need you."
She stopped, listening to him take short, quick breaths. His face was set in an unreadable line. Turmoil boiled within him.
"I need you," Padmé said.
Dooku looked at her compassionately, his hard expression softening.
"I need you to complete my training," she said. "I can't fight the Sith alone. Sola and Nute Gunray need you to help them form the Separatist Alliance…the galaxy needs someone to fight for it."
"You're right," he admitted. "You're right."
She allowed a small smile to cross her lips.
"You can't accomplish the task set before you alone, just as Sola and Gunray can't form the Alliance without me," he said. "I was wrong, Padmé. I was wrong. The galaxy needs me – needs us. If we don't fight for it, no one will. The rest of them are too afraid to take the initiative themselves."
As they exited the room, Dooku continued speaking.
"This war isn't going to be easy, Padmé," he said. "Many of the people you know and care for will die fighting in it."
"I know," she said. "They would die under the iron fist of the Sith anyway. At least this way they have something worth dying for."
I do hope you're right, Dooku thought. You were chosen by the Force for this – chosen for war, for battle, for heartbreak, for compassion, for love, for mourning, for fighting, and if these things don't destroy you, I commend you, Chosen One.
Fight for the Force, for you were Chosen by it. Fight for those you care for, but most of all, fight for yourself.
May the Force be with you, my Chosen Padawan.
Chosen.