900 Years Later, Coruscant
"That must be the most foolish thing I have ever heard!" Alamys Jorka exclaimed, shaking his head in disgust.
"Another reminder of your more than humble origins, Master Jorka. Perhaps you should dedicate your studies to more substantial matters, such as politics," his counterpart replied coolly.
"I need not remind you that ambition and greed are part of the Dark Side," Alamys countered just as icily. "They are the very essence of politics."
"Without studying the Dark Side, Master Jorka, you will never be able to recognize and withstand it."
"No need for either," he answered haughtily. "Virtue will always be our best protection against the Dark Side."
"Believe you do, that virtuous enough you are, Master Jorka?"
He turned his head abruptly and his blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he gazed at the tiny Jedi Master who was hovering at eye-level in his mobile seat. "Master Yoda. With all due respect, yes, I do believe that virtue is my shield. Whereas Count Dooku seems to believe that deception and manipulation will serve us best," he added, shooting his adversary a withering glare.
The tall nobleman gave him a thin smile, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "My point, Master Yoda, was to show Master Jorka the futility of setting virtue above skill. A merely virtuous person will never be able to do good, whereas the skilled will prevail in any situation."
"Not exclude each other do virtue and skill," Master Yoda explained quietly.
"But, Master Yoda, you will admit that pursuing virtue alone will blind against the vices others may employ skillfully against the virtuous," Dooku countered.
"A riddle," Yoda replied. "Answer you both will. Master Jorka, grow stronger does a light in the dark than a speck of dark within a sea of white?"
"Of course it will shine brighter in darkness!" Alamys exclaimed, exasperated, then continued more calmly: "That is the very basis of the Jedi Order's existence, to be that flame within darkness. The black speck will stand out more prominently among the light, and will be found out instantly. It cannot stand against the light."
Yoda nodded sagely, then turned inquisitive green eyes on the Count. "Your answer?"
"That latter point is true for both situations. A light within darkness will be found out just as quickly as a speck of darkness within light. Both turn into targets for the respective opposite. The single flame will be extinguished, just as the single speck of dark. Their being different dooms them effectively."
"Then believe you do that doomed the Jedi are?" the small alien asked, gazing straight at Dooku.
"A mute point, Master Yoda," Alamys injected dismissively, "since the Jedi stand neither alone against a sea of darkness, nor do they face a single foe. This riddle is unrealistic."
"It is a riddle, Master Jorka," Dooku grated out. "And the Jedi are not that different from either light or dark."
"Unrealistic, maybe," Yoda admitted, and Alamys felt his own satisfaction at being proven right. "But for how long this current reality remain it will?"
And with those words he steered clear of the two men, vanishing into the distance and around a corner. Dumb-founded, both Alamys and Dooku stood gazing after the retreating Jedi Master. Finally the spell broke, and both men threw one another a grim look, as if undecided whether their dispute was ended. But then Dooku nodded curtly and stalked off in the opposite direction Yoda had taken.
For a moment Alamys stood motionless, pondering Yoda's last comment. But then he shook those thoughts off and frowned. So, Dooku thought that the Dark Side could only be understood and, more importantly, withstood, when studied properly. A dangerous statement, that. Was he studying the Dark Side? And if so, what could he, Alamys Jorka, do about it?
Wandering toward the silence of his own quarters, Alamys was pondering the previous exchange more closely. It had been one of many, many disputes that had seen him locked in argument with the Count, whom he thought arrogant and self-possessed. A mutual observation, Alamys knew. They would never get along, no matter how much Master Yoda tried to mediate between them. They were too different, in origin as well as in their view of the Force and the role the Jedi Order was to play in the course of history. Dooku believed that the Jedi were too passive, that they were placidly following wherever the Supreme Chancellor led. Alamys did not think like that. The Jedi Order had always been subjected to the government, and that was well, since without that anchorage they would soon become a simile of their greatest enemies, the Sith. Those had been extinct for a millennium, ever since the fateful battle of Ruusan, but Alamys was well aware of the fact that the Sith had been Jedi once. He considered it the Order's duty to guard within as well as without. Which was why he kept a very close eye on whatever Count Dooku was doing. If the Count was truly studying the Dark Side, he would find out, and put an end to those studies. Definitely.
The ship was as alien to its surroundings as his master was to sobriety. Black and menacing, it squatted in the green meadow like an ugly beetle, marring the tender beauty of the spring blossoms that sprouted around its clawed landing struts. Suppressing a sigh, Darth Sidious walked closer to the ship, waiting for his master to acknowledge him. He had felt him approach hours ago, locked in a working circle that was supposed to solve the fishing rights for the western sea of Naboo. They always met in this meadow, and each time Sidious felt the same about the ship's presence.
He was only three meters from the outer hull when the entry hatch was lowered to the ground, squashing a couple of rare Sunset Lilies. The Sith apprentice walked into the ship's belly unpertubed. His master was waiting for him in the small yacht's rec room, seated in one of the three chairs that had been fixed around a table, and as expected the smell of brandy was thick in the air.
Dropping to one knee as was proper, Sidious lowered his head deferentially. "I live to serve, master," he intoned softly. He did. But the one he served was himself, no one else.
"You always knew how to flatter those above you," Darth Nexus huffed, and a new gust of half-digested alcohol rolled toward the apprentice.
"Yes, master."
"So glad you agree." Hiccuping loudly, Nexus rose from his seat, looming over Sidious with his over two meter height and four hundred pound bulk. It was easy to take him for a drunk fool, all too easy. But behind those red piggy-eyes of his a sharp mind lurked incessantly, a cruel mind, that was quick to punish. A rare trait, in a Whiphid. "Get up." Sidious obeyed instantly, and kept his gaze on his master, radiating pure helpfulness. "How is that working circle proceeding."
"Not too well."
"Excellent. Try to lock them down as long as you can. Bury them in bureaucracy. You're so good at that," Darth Nexus added acidly. "And, what is more, you will need to keep them occupied until you return."
"We are leaving, master? Where to?"
"Corellia. I have uncovered some interesing information about that planet. Here." He threw a datacard at the younger Sith. "Have a good look, apprentice. It will tell you something about what we will face."
"The Seed of Doom," Sidious read aloud.
"I know what it says, boy. I want you to read it on the way. Now go and tell your pets that you will be leaving."
Sidious inclined his head demurely. "Yes, master, at once."
"Get out," Darth Nexus snarled, pointing at the hatch. Without another word, his apprentice left.
As he strolled back to the speeder he had parked half a mile away so as not to give the location away to all too nosy contenders, he was seething inward. It had been five years ago that he had been initiated as Sith apprentice, and he remembered most vividly how awed he had been at the sheer grandeur of the ceremony, the power his master commanded. It had been exactly as he had imagined. But now he felt that he and Nexus had reached an impasse, where the master was loath to teach more, knowing full well that his student had surpassed him already in all but name. Yet Sidious just knew there was more to learn. So he had no choice but to obey, for now. Yet he longed for the day when he would be ready to be master. It would be soon, he hoped, very soon.