Grey feeble dawn, crawling slowly over the less than luxurious district of Coruscant, found Count Dooku in his secret headquarters sprawled to his full, rather impressive, height in a sagging armchair either asleep or in deep meditation. Pearly rays of sunlight sneaked into the study, lining walls adorned with dark wooden panels and tentatively crossing Dooku's outstretched legs.
Traffic trailed slowly outside the window as though waking from the pre-dawn slumber along with rousing sun. Soundproof transparisteel windows blocked the street's noise almost completely. The din, reduced to a gentle murmur rather than the constant roar and whine, was lulling, especially at this early hour.
No one dared disturb the Count, particularly after a sleepless night. Outside his private office, people slowed their paces passing his door, almost tiptoeing past it. The hum of voices engaged in busy conversations dropped to faint rustle of whispers near the tall wooden door. The study itself was like an oasis of peace and serenity in the midst of business activity.
Thus the more startling was a shrill beep of incoming call that imbued the room. Hazel eyes, trimmed with as yet black eyelashes, flew open and Dooku sat upright, instantly aware of his surroundings and alert. He reached his hand out and flipped the comm. unit transmission switch. The room plunged into silence.
In crackling blue outlines appeared a man, shrivelled to less than a meter tall figure. The man was dressed in an obscure grey suit, which did not restrain movement. He sketched a quick bow to the Count. In his hand the man held a piece of cloth which Dooku promptly identified as a fabric mask. Nodding in greeting Dooku took a chair closer to the comm. unit and sat down, steepling his long slim fingers, waiting for the holographic man to start talking.
A moment of uneasy silence hung in the air, broken only by electronic buzz of the holoprojector's lasers.
"Report," Dooku said briskly.
The man cleared his throat and ran his hand through the dishevelled hair as though trying to delay the inevitable. Dooku didn't miss the gesture but chose not to comment.
"Warken's team is… they're all dead," the man finally uttered in a voice that was almost steady yet showed he was shaken by the news.
For a second Dooku thought he had heard wrongly the words, slightly distorted by static. Warken and his team were one of the best Dooku had. It could not possibly be… But no. He could not allow himself to indulge in self-deception, not at this time.
"All of them?" asked the Count. His face had turned into a stone mask of contorted muscles.
The hologram nodded jerkily.
"Every single one."
"How did it happen?" ~How could it happen?~
"We don't really know…"
"Tell me the facts," the Count interrupted, appearing absolutely calm on the outside. Then added, letting emotion sip faintly into his voice, "I want to know why have I lost ten of my associates."
The holographic man gave him a glance as though guessing at what length Dooku might go to avenge the lost team.
"Last time I contacted Warken they were engaged in a fight."
"A fight?" Dooku's bushy brows lifted, indicating utter amazement. "At the senatorial building?"
Brimar entered the study quietly and stopped two paces from the door, listening. Dooku didn't acknowledge him, although, Brimar was positive, the Count was aware of his presence.
"There appeared to be another group," continued the hologram. "They were trying to kidnap the Chancellor and some of the senators."
"Palpatine? Was he hurt?"
"No, I don't think so. I saw him recently, he appeared to be fine."
"Any of the senators?"
"There are some wounded, they're being treated."
"Good."
The man ran a hand through his hair again, leaving dark stray locks sticking out in all directions. Dooku immediately picked up on this sign of nervousness and unease. "What is it?"
"It's just... the way they were killed... I've never seen anything quite like this before."
The Count nodded, urging him to continue.
"Like something… some unknown force has exploded and demolished them…"
"Some force?" Dooku repeated slowly. ~Or maybe the Force?~ "Did you see anyone – suspicious?"
The man on the hologram averted his eyes to the side for a moment, recalling the events, then shook his head. "No one. Not even one of those attackers Warken spoke of. We traced the signal of his homing beacon," he pointed unconsciously to a thin black band on his own wrist. "We found all ten of Warken's people scattered around one room. Without any wounds. Just… crashed. And no sign of anyone else."
"All tight. Retreat from the building. I need everyone's reports by this evening."
The man gave a short, terse bow, and the hologram dissolved. Dooku continued to sit gazing at the place where it had been.
"You think this is the Sith Master's doing?" Brimar half-asked, half-stated, moving to the window and settling himself on the windowsill so that warm rays of morning sun caressed the back of his head.
"I have no doubt of it."
"He was after Palpatine, then?"
"Most likely. Though… There's more to it than meets the eye."
"Like why Palpatine is still alive if the Sith was after him…" Brimar shifted, leaning against the cool surface of transparisteel.
Dooku shrugged. "Perhaps he wanted him alive."
"And what does your Force tell you?"
"'My' Force tells me that we know very little. But however ignorant we might be we are at least not blind."
Brimar fixed his steel-grey eyes on Dooku, who had turned to the data-pads lying neatly on his table. ~With your persistence I'm sure you will dig this Sith out of whatever hole he is hiding in.~
************* *************
An hour later sun glanced into yet another private office high in one of Coruscant's numerous skyscrapers. This office was quite different from that of Dooku. Whereas Dooku's office was decorated with wood this one bore cold stone. A single tall window gave wide panoramic view of the city but somehow seemed to block the sun's light. Inside there reigned chill and official atmosphere.
In a gloomy corner of this spacious office a hologram blossomed over the polished surface of a round stone-incrusted table. The hologram filled the shadows of this murky corner where sun never seemed to come with low drone and unnatural bluish glow.
The figure on the hologram was unmistakeable although covered head to toe in armour – Mandalorian armour.
A heart of even bravest man would have skipped a beat should this almost legendary – and in some circles it was indeed a legend – figure appear in their sight. But it was not so for the powerful and dark presence which seemingly consisted of shadows and whose eyes now regarded the bounty hunter coldly from under the black hood.
Fett made a move that might be viewed as a bow if one so desired.
"You disappoint me," stated the shadowy figure of whom Fett knew almost nothing – except that he was paying. And paying no little money.
"I dare say the circumstances were less than perfect. I will finish the job…"
"No, you will not."
Jango froze, and though his face was hidden beneath the helmet Sidious sensed the alarmed vigilance in Fett. This ability to instil fear into anyone, even the renowned bounty hunter – one of the deadliest in the galaxy – almost amused the Dark Lord. For a moment his lips quirked in an ugly semblance of a smirk.
"Your
services are no longer required in this case. You will return to Kamino at
once." ~Your time has not come yet.~
"May I…"
"No," the Sith cut him off icily. "You may not ask any questions."
"As you wish."
The hologram turned off, leaving Sidious in the shadows of his office.
*********** ***********
Light. Darkness. Not of sight. A feeling.
Light and darkness creeping into soul.
Uncertainty, doubt, fear.
Forest.
A forest crystallized out of nothing as though drawn by a magic wand. Tall oaks, lean aspens, slim young spruces, rich with delicate green needles swayed on gentle wind. Fallen leaves rustled quietly under booted feet. The familiarity of the place brought some comfort, tamed the raging emotions, though Obi-Wan could still feel them boiling quietly just under the surface, ready to spring forth and consume him once he let his guard down.
He was alone once again in the woods he now found common, almost home-like. He raised his face to the speckled canopy of trees above and the sky…
A pang of alarm rang in his heart, not yet strong enough to put him on alert. The sky was an ominous conglomeration of grayish violet thunderclouds, sliced here and there by meager, translucent rays of distant sun. Storm clouds that had once been but a fine line emphasizing the horizon turned now into an all-embracing veil of heavy pressing darkness, not marring the heaven's crystal beauty of earlier but conquering it with its enormity.
As if on cue, a chilly waft of wind descended from the sky, ripping at Obi-Wan's cloak, dousing the Jedi's upturned face with sprinkles of cold water. With a sigh Obi-Wan wiped his skin with the back of his hand. The beautiful azure sky of earlier was now gone, and he knew – somewhere in the depth of his soul – that it was not just the brilliance of that sky lost, it was something more important, something more scaled. And that something not only affected him but the whole galaxy. The changes were close…
A mournful lingering sound – more like a moan – startled Obi-Wan, piercing his heart with a needle of apprehension and untold sorrow. He tore his gaze from the skies above looking for the source of the doleful cry.
The sound repeated, almost humanlike. Obi-Wan's eyes fell onto a white bird sitting on a branch opposite from him. The bird fixed him with a pointed, nearly stern gaze of sable eyes.
"Hello to you too, old friend," smiled Obi-Wan, recognizing one of the two birds from his previous visit to the forest.
The bird cocked its head to the side, as though studying him, than with a short and powerful swing of its wings it carried itself onto his shoulder. He lifted a hand to smooth its disheveled feathers as it tried to find a comfortable position.
"Things don't look good, do they?"
The bird gave a short shriek.
"Now I guess I'm supposed to travel like a brave knight from one of those ancient tales, with a falcon on my shoulder." Obi-Wan gave a smile although somewhat wary as his senses kept him strained. Something in the air made him uneasy, something in the Force was troubling.
"Perhaps I need to make another step along that path. What do you think?"
The bird waved its wings, brushing Obi-Wan's cheek with feathers, then suddenly gave out another woeful cry.
"Now what's the matter? You sound like a mourner. Cheer up!" He stroked the bird's compact, sleek body soothingly. "Wherever that path leads I…"
He trailed off as his gaze came to rest at his feet seeing no path there. His boots were buried in grass and emerald, moist moss, a stray leaf clinging to one boot. Somehow, the absence of the path triggered an alarm in his mind.
"Seems like I've already come somewhere."
He shot quick, keen looks in different directions, taking in his surroundings once more. The forest was still forest, and there was no path to follow anymore. The bird perched on his shoulder, of whom he had forgotten in his unpleasant revelation, rubbed its head on his cheek consolingly.
Another doleful cry tore the silence of woods. It traveled among the trees from apparently great distance, and the plants seemed to listen to it, wavering slightly.
"Is that your friend?" asked Obi-Wan, knowing somehow – after a weird tradition of dreams where one knows things without learning them – that the cry belonged to the second bird he had met earlier – the black one.
The bird on the Jedi's shoulder ruffled its feathers and gave out an almost human shout: "Ha!"
"Well, whatever you say." He looked around again. Something was pushing him into action, telling him to make a step. But where? He attempted to draw upon the Force, but its golden strands – so soothing and reassuring at other times – were now out of reach, beaconing, enticing, but completely unattainable. "Looks like I'll have to choose on my own."
Resigning himself he made a step forward in a random direction… and froze. Just behind the edge of trees gaped a maw of black, fog filled chasm. He backed away from it in a sudden wake of fear, back to the safety of tiny clearing.
Drawing a deep – if slightly shaky – breath he made a step in opposite direction. Only to face the awful chasm again.
The clearing seemed to shrivel, trees clustered round him more tightly. He knew he would be forced eventually to take some route, and it would lead him into the abyss regardless of the direction he chose. The Force had led him here – and left. If the Force were a sentient being he could have sworn it was watching his struggle now with amusement.
The bird took off from its roost on Obi-Wan's shoulder and flew to a nearby tree.
"Leaving too, are you?" Obi-Wan threw at it.
The bird did not reply, watching him with shining beads of eyes.
Not wanting to delay the inevitable, preferring to face what fate had in store for him and be done with it, Obi-Wan took one step forward. Then another. And another. The air felt suddenly condensed and viscous like syrup, hampering movement. The Jedi had to struggle with it – more and more with each second…
Until suddenly he was down on his back, swaddled in something. In a momentary fit of panic he fought with the binds that held him until his cloggy mind registered the soft surface of a bed beneath him and dim light of a single nightlight. The binds, wrapped tightly around his body turned out to be covers he had tangled himself in. With a sigh he unwrapped them and threw them off, finding himself dressed in silky nightclothes.
Sitting up on the edge of the bed he carefully surveyed the room, coming up with only one conclusion – he had no idea where he was.
*********** **********
