"Obi-wan, I apologize that my time away from Coruscant has meant we have not gotten to know each other better," Dooku began. The four of us sat in a small chamber just down the hall from the Council. "I have taken great interest in your training recently, and especially your political and economic actions. Senator Palpatine speaks highly of you."

"You know the Senator?" I asked, surprised. Naboo was a minor world, and until recently, Palpatine's main political pull had been through some alliances with banking interests that I didn't quite understand.

"The Senator - and I share this with you because I know that, like Qui-Gon, you can be trusted - is an enthusiast of Jedi lore. He has helped me research some topics not permitted within the Archives."

"Including the Sith objects Obi-wan mentioned earlier?" my Master asked.

"Sith Holocrons, yes. None are known to still exist, as Jedi destroy them when they are found. But sources describing them, and their creators, are available in certain private libraries."

I nodded. "Very interesting. Through my visions I may be able to share with you other locations of interest for such items, although I will remind you that my memories tend to be woefully incomplete where the Sith are concerned."

The Count nodded. "That is why I wished to speak with you, in fact. I have been considering, for some time, leaving the Jedi Order."

The spike of panic that I felt from Qui-Gon came at the same time as his audible gasp. "Leave the Order, Master? Why?"

Dooku sighed. "You know how often we have discussed my frustration with the Jedi Council. They act as more of an adjunct to the Senate than emissaries of the Force." I felt his hot anger roar again. "How many lives of our brothers and sisters have they thrown away for political advantage? They care more for the government than for Jedi."

"I cannot believe that to be so," Qui-Gon pushed back. "Surely you cannot fault their compassion. They are Masters; teachers; they have always safeguarded our growth and training."

"On an individual level, yes," Dooku said. "And then a matter needs a forceful response, and they send in a minimal number of Jedi to carry out the minimal amount of action. Both of which assure a Jedi's demise at the smallest misstep."

Qui-Gon began to respond, but Dooku held up a hand. He rose and paced a bit. My Master and I exchanged a worried look, but waited until the senior Master spoke again. "When Obi-wan described your death," the knot of anger and grief almost overwhelmed me, "I realized that it would have been the end of the Order for me. Proof that the Council could not be trusted to protect what is precious in this Galaxy."

Dooku turned and looked straight into Qui-Gon's eyes, and… I felt it. Just for a moment, before it was swallowed whole and disappeared under a veil of concentration and discipline. It was strong, an upwelling of delight, a yearning of deliciousness and pain.

Master Dooku was in love with Qui-Gon Jinn.

What I felt next were stabs of fear, as both Masters turned to look at me. I couldn't keep the surprise off of my face or out of my mind. They instantly knew that I knew.

It seemed better to clear the air than to maintain the stand-off. "Are you two…?" I began.

"Many years ago," Qui-Gon admitted. From the fondness he radiated, I realized the feelings were reciprocated, on some level. "But Jedi are not permitted such attachments. We agreed to… stop."

Dooku's eyes were still on me, waiting for my condemnation. I replied, "I think that losing someone dear to you is often a reason Jedi fall. And Master Qui-Gon knows how I feel about personal relationships."

"Yes?" Dooku encouraged.

"Obi-wan believes they are necessary and healthy," Qui-Gon supplied. "He claims that attempting to suppress our attachments is more of a danger than our attachments themselves."

"I claim that the only reason they become attachments of the kind that compromise your use of the Force, is because they are suppressed rather than satisfied naturally."

Dooku raised an eyebrow in skepticism. "You would get along well with the Corellians, I think. They have similar attitudes about family." He pivoted. "But, I would like to know: in your Visions, did I leave the Order? When Qui-Gon was killed on Naboo?"

I thought for a moment, diving as deep as I could into my memories. "Yes. Count Dooku of Serenno. You became the last of 'The Twenty,' a group of ex-Jedi commemorated in the Library."

"I was successful, then, in reclaiming my title." He was pleased. "And afterwards?"

"You backed the Separatists, I think. Although in what precise way, I'm not sure."

"That's all you know?" Dooku didn't keep the disappointment from his voice.

"If I remember more, I will certainly share it," I offered.

Dooku continued to pace. "I received word that my brother has died. If I wish to reclaim my seat, now would be the time."

I spread my hands. "So, reclaim your seat as a Jedi Master. You do not have to forsake the order to do that."

Dooku shook his head. "The Council would never accept that. A Jedi Master, taking on the oaths and wealth of a hereditary title? They would consider it a violation of the Code."

"I don't see it as a violation of the Code," I countered. "Do you?"

He thought for a moment. "No. Political pull and property are both things the Jedi have and use for the good of the Republic. This is no different."

I turned to Qui-Gon. "What do you think, Master?"

Qui-Gon shrugged, and I felt him wince at the ongoing pain. "I only concern myself with the Code as it constrains an individual to act with wisdom and compassion. Wealth and power can corrupt, but they are not corrupting by themselves." He looked to Dooku. "If you want to become Count Dooku, without giving up your place within the Order, you have whatever support I can give."

"That…" the Jedi diplomat looked over us again, then headed toward the door. "That is what I needed to know. Thank you."

He left, and we waited.