Author's Notes: Wow – people read and reviewed! Bless you all! And it looks like popular opinion is for me to carry on. I'm glad I'm not the only person who likes writing/reading a few warped stories.
Skywalker Blue: Hee hee – got the desired response from you! ^_^ And I knew someone would pick at the 'on earth' thing! SW readers are well picky! Don't worry – I'm just the same! I know the story's not nice (unless you're a Dooku-freak, like myself) but there's too much Ami/Ani or Ami/Obi out there – I just want to be dark and nasty, as is my nature… many thanks for your review! It's great to have some criticism for once! :D
MerryMoll: Ah, I knew you'd quite like the 'twisted Jurious' approach… I still don't know quite where this is going, though. And, yeah, I love Christopher Lee – I don't care how old he is – but it's not just that that made me write this, it was just the chance to make Dooku as evil and formidable as I could allow myself to. Again, I don't really think he'd ever be so vile, but it's interesting to try these things out. If you wanna help me out with a few problems I'm debating for my own approach to 'Episode 3' as far as this goes, please email me! I'm not sure where to take this…
Liz: Thankies – but don't hold any hopes. I can be pretty evil sometimes…
Seth: Bless you! It's been a while since I've had an 'awesome' thrown at me! I'd hug you if I could. ^_^
Disclaimer: I own absolutely, positively nothing! Lord Lucas owns it all – and I just take his characters, and use them for myself. ^_^ I do take certain liberties with the characters and their relationships, and whatnot though.
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"ECLIPSE"
Part 2
Obi-Wan heard the door to his cell creak open. He groaned, tired and unsettled, the force field in which he was suspended having deprived him of both sleep and orientation. He felt most sick and rough.
The cells of the Stalagasin Hive were brutal, and invulnerable to the powers of the Force – clever devices, considering that the Geonosians had cooked them up. The manacles that were clasped around the prisoner's wrists, ankles and neck weren't connected to anything via chains – they were fitted with special repulsorlift devices, which, through the blue force field that encompassed the convict, emitted from plates on the floor and ceiling, made the detainee float in midair and constantly rotate around. It was torture within custody.
Kenobi forced his heavy eyelids open, his head pounding with a compelling headache, and his throat dry and parched. He watched Dooku pace in.
Obi groaned as his vision fizzled between singular and double – he felt terrible, and he really didn't appreciate the former Jedi's company, as lonesome as it was in here; "What is it now, Count?" he asked groggily.
Dooku looked up to him, making no effort to conceal his smirk of satisfaction toward Kenobi's deteriorating condition, "I bring you good tidings," he said plainly, as if talking to some one in their own sitting room.
Kenobi managed a slight, gruff nod, his muscles aching all over, and his energy levels drained; he was sceptical of the Count's revelation, "What, then?" he queried, monitoring Dooku with his tremulous eyesight.
Dooku allowed a pause to pass, enjoying drawing things out with the suffering Jedi. He then finally replied with, "You are to be freed."
" 'Freed'?" he spluttered cynically, his head nodding down a little in fatigue; his body was craving the rest this villainous contrivance was not allowing him to have; the ailing Jedi had to gather his ebbing strengths before he could continue, "I thought it was going to be 'difficult to secure my release'?"
Dooku snickered gently under his breath, watching Obi-Wan falter, "I'm being honest, my friend. Difficult it may have been considered, and would have remained, until your friend, Senator Amidala, turned up in the Droid Foundries with her Jedi friend. She has much more sense than you, and has helped me secure your release…"
Kenobi's heart had dropped – Padmé and Anakin had obviously turned in an attempt at rescuing him, but had fallen into the hands of the Separatists. What had Padmé had to do in order to extricate him? He closed his tiring eyes, swallowing hard.
"Ah, compassionate Master Kenobi, you feel guilty, don't you? And most concerned," Dooku grinned, seeming to be teasing him. Kenobi didn't even bother to look at him, never mind attempt a retaliation.
"What troubles you, Master Jedi? Oh wait…you are no master yet," Dooku continued artfully, "And with a reckless Padawan, as I've heard that young Skywalker is proving, I'm not convinced you ever will be one…"
"Shut up!" Kenobi snapped, cringing as his sudden movement incurred the force field to send more electric shocks through his body, "Anakin's a good person – it's the Masters who've had Padawans that turn out like you that I pity!"
Dooku just snickered callously, "Anakin's a good person…for now," he retorted obscurely, leaving his sentence there.
Kenobi just scowled at him; he was desperate for some respite, and just wanted the Count to go away.
"What price did Senator Amidala have to pay to free me?" he asked drearily, changing the subject.
Dooku just stared at him for the moment, sniggering pitilessly under his breath.
"What price did she have to pay?" Kenobi demanded sharply, enduring the extra pain his exertions sent through his body.
The Count smirked with conceited contentment, and said superciliously, "She has agreed to join my movement."
Kenobi's visage went taut with shock and rage, "What did you do to her?" he challenged.
Dooku only snickered again, amused by the futility of Kenobi's vocal assaults upon him, "You think I did not win her over honestly?" he asked deftly, hooking his thumbs into the top of his belt in a unperturbed manner.
Obi-Wan inhaled steadily, trying to compose himself, "'Honesty' fell from your lexicon long ago…" he growled.
A suave grin pricked up at the corners of Dooku's mouth, and he chuckled once more beneath his breath, "My, you are an amusing one."
"What did you do-?" Kenobi was about to repeat, getting tired of the Count's circumlocution of the matter, but Dooku finally interrupted with a decent response, bellowing in his awe-inspiring tone of voice, "I told her the truth, Obi-Wan! The truth you would not accept! I showed her what was left for the future of the Republic, and laid her options before her – she chose to join me! I think that she was the wise one."
Kenobi wouldn't take merely that for an answer, "And I bet you intimidated her, and gave her no other choice!" he retorted, his every word becoming an effort now.
Dooku walked close up to him, and stared up into his eyes, "Believe what you will, my boy," he snarled, his voice unnerving, "But the truth stands."
There was a pause. The humming of Obi-Wan's force field thrummed in the lull.
"So, now what?" Kenobi asked quietly, "You're going to let me go?"
The Count stepped away from his captive, and said gruffly, "In a manner of speaking…"
"With Anakin and Padmé?" he added.
"The boy, yes. The lady, no," the Count replied minimally.
Kenobi shook his head as much as his low strengths would allow; "I won't leave without her," he snapped obstinately.
"She chose to join me, Obi-Wan," Dooku stated firmly, "And, by doing so, enabled your release. If you don't accept this offer of freedom, then I have no choice but to assume that you wish to remain in custody."
"I am not prepared to leave Senator Amidala here with you," Kenobi repeated solemnly, glaring at Dooku as hard as he could.
"She is no Senator of the Republic now. She is one of us, who are at the helm of a movement striving for a more orderly galaxy," Dooku sternly snarled, "So except it, and go free – a heavy risk for me to take, I'm sure you understand – or stay here and die."
"You would sentence Qui-Gon's Padawan to death?" Obi-Wan queried.
"Your Master may have been my apprentice," the Count retorted, "But you are no Padawan of mine. I will not be won over through such petty coercion, Kenobi. You do not regard me with sympathy because I was your Master's teacher, now do you? So don't expect me to regard you with anything other than disenchantment, and – to be quite frank – mortification."
He stormed about and marched to the cell door. It opened at his beckoning, and he paused by its open doorframe; he turned back to Kenobi for one last time, "So, I gather you have chosen death?" he asked brusquely.
Obi-Wan swallowed, "Yes," he nodded impassively.
The count brushed his cloak behind him in an irate gesture, yet his emotions were unclear, "Then so be it," he said.
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Anakin hung steadily in his own prison cell, identical to that in which his Master was imprisoned. He wasn't quite so drained, having not been in the cell for half as long, and also seeing that he was full of energy. He couldn't deny that he already felt a little weak though, and the electrical surges passing through his body did hurt.
He looked up, hearing his own cell door open – it was Padmé. His face brightened, and he smiled faintly, quietly saying, "Padmé…" He had wondered what had happened to her when he had been carted off in one direction, and Padmé forced on in another.
She smiled half-heartedly back, entering the cell alone. Anakin frowned, immediately recognising that she wasn't herself. She seemed rattled, unfocused, and on edge, and glanced to her side in a most nervous gesture that was totally out-of-character.
"Are you all right?" Anakin queried, most concerned for her, "What happened? Where'd they take you?"
She clutched herself closely, rubbing her own arms, and slowly looked up into Anakin's face, "You're going free, Ani," she said.
Anakin's brow furrowed, none of this making sense, "I am?" he mused unsurely; he monitored Padmé's body language closely – there was much more to this that she hadn't yet even tried to tell him, "How, Padmé? What did you have to do to free me?" he gently asked.
She paused for a long time, and inhaled deeply, staring at the metallic lattice upon the cell floor. Anakin was desperate to know what was going on, and just wanted to hold Padmé in his arms to comfort her – he however allowed her to answer in her own time, trying his best to remain patient.
"I'm sorry, Ani," she finally began to whisper.
Anakin frowned, looking hard at her face.
"I had to join…him…" she sighed anxiously.
" 'Him'?" Anakin queried.
Padmé nodded tensely, "Yes…Count Dooku."
Anakin wanted to know more and quickly, but couldn't help but see how traumatised Padmé was. He decided to try and be as civilised and gentle as possible – he didn't want to hurt her any more than she was hurt already, "What did he do to you, Padmé?" he asked serenely.
She looked down again, rubbing her arms, breathing nervously, "I'm so scared, Anakin," she admitted tearfully, "I'm so messed up!" She wiped her eye, determined not to show weakness, "I don't know what's wrong with me…but when I'm around him, I…I can't control myself…"
Anakin looked at her, his eyebrow rising in a little alarm.
Padmé noticed this, "No, not like that, Ani," she hastened to add, "It's just that…well, I can't seem to do what I want to when he's near me…I can't feel what I know I should be feeling…"
She looked up, trying to remain composed, "When he touches me…puts a hand on my shoulder, I mean…I feel a chill spread through my body; I feel cold inside, and scared…I've never felt like it before. I know that I want to break away from him, but I can't – something stops me! I can't!"
She wiped her eyes once again, "Anakin, I'm just so frightened! How does he do it?"
Anakin was pent up with rage, "I don't know Padmé," he admitted, shaking his head a little, "But I'm gonna make him pay if he's hurting you!" He looked down upon her considerately, "You can't join him, Padmé! Look what he's done to you already! He's evil…a maniac! I can just tell!"
She sighed, looking down, "He's powerful, Anakin; but even so, I thought Jedi could only control the weak-minded? How is he manipulating me…?"
Anakin paused, cringing as a painful jolt from the prison force field pulsated over his head, making his mind ache, "I don't know Padmé," he confessed, "But I know you're far from weak-minded…"
"I just don't get it, Ani. I can usually remain strong under pressure for so long, but he just got to me so quickly," she explained emotionally, becoming unsure with herself, "I don't understand!"
"Don't let him get to you, Padmé!" Anakin urged her, "Don't join him! He's rotten to the core!"
"I have to join him," she replied with penitence.
"Why?" Anakin queried.
She looked hard into Anakin's eyes, "Because I can't go back to the Republic," she explained distressfully, "It's under the control of the Sith Lord!"
Anakin was momentarily stunned by her revelation, but frowned it off with incredulity, "Impossible," he stated certainly, "The Jedi would know if it were! There's no way a Sith could control the Republic." He looked at Padmé, and saw the fear in her eyes resurface, "He told you this, didn't he?" he deduced angrily, "That bastard told you this!"
"He's not lying, Anakin!" she said, "I know it sounds crazy, but…"
"Don't let him cloud your mind, Padmé!" Anakin went on, "If he can manipulate your actions, like you said, then don't you think he might be able to influence your mind, too?"
"Anakin, you're not helping…"
"Wouldn't you rather die than join him? The Republic needs you, Padmé! Don't abandon it…"
"Anakin, there's still a chance that I can save the Republic from the side of the Separatists! I can't go and serve a Sith Lord!"
Anakin looked at her severely, "And who is this 'Sith Lord'?" he asked vigorously, "Does 'almighty Dooku' know this, too?"
Padmé hesitated – she couldn't tell Anakin it was Palpatine, not so soon after his mother's death… he wouldn't be able to handle it. Anakin and the Chancellor were close friends, and to reveal to him that a man he both admired and respected was the villain at the heart of the Republic's woes would destroy him.
Anakin scoffed, taking her silence as a 'no', "I guess not," he said.
"I'm freeing you, aren't I?" she said to him, "I'm doing the only thing I believe I can do – don't think I like it, Anakin, but sometimes we have to do things we don't appreciate. I'm trying to do what is best for my people. And I'm relieved that you and Obi-Wan will at least be safe…"
Anakin felt so wound up, and was about to reply, when the door to his cell again hissed open. Anakin glanced up, and watched a tall, aristocratic yet elderly man enter; Anakin frowned unsurely – was this the infamous Count Dooku?
"Ah… it's 'Anakin', isn't it?" he asked, his voice distinctly deep; he stopped beside Padmé, and smiled warmly toward him – yet there was something ominous about his smirk. Anakin glared hatefully at the old man, and his anger only increased as he noticed Padmé flinch at this guy's presence.
"Anakin Skywalker?" the man continued, folding his arms over his chest.
"Yeah, that's right," Anakin hissed in response; he couldn't deny that the man had a powerful air about him; the room did suddenly feel a lot closer, "You must be 'Dooku'," he added curtly.
"Indeed," the Count replied, seemingly unimpressed with the young Jedi's conduct, "And you need some manners. Don't they teach you that at the temple anymore? I think I deserve some respect now I've endeavoured to have you freed, due to Miss. Padmé's agreement to join me."
He stepped behind the Senator, placing his hands on her shoulders. Amidala closed her eyes, shuddering in response to his chilling touch.
"Get off her," Anakin ordered, hammering Dooku with a hard stare.
The Count raised an eyebrow, "Excuse me?" he growled.
"You heard," Anakin snarled, "Get off her! She doesn't like it, can't you see?"
"No, I can't," he replied casually, intentionally rubbing her shoulders to anger the young Padawan. Padmé cringed, the dark emptiness of the Count's touch creeping through her body, the numb control he had over her falling back into place.
Anakin sensed the darkness and the titanic Force-strength of him, watching him manipulate the woman he loved. His fuse sparked, and he tried in vain to viciously lunge at the Separatist leader, "Stop it! Stop it, you bastard!!" he yelled violently, but was restrained by the force field prison. His efforts to free himself only resulted in the field implicating even more painful shocks upon him, making him cry out in agony, and fall back into a still poise. He glared at Dooku, fuming with rage at the wickedness of this man.
"Watch your mouth, young one," the Count snapped, reasonably unmoved, "She has agreed to join my cause, and in return, free you. Don't you respect the choice she has made?"
"Only because you made her join! Telling her slander about a Sith Lord in the senate, and controlling her with your perverted powers!" he snarled fiercely, his face rigid with frenzy, his fists curled into tight balls.
Little seemed to break Dooku's patience – he was skilled in this art, "Alike your Jedi friends, you are blinded by your own self-confidence. I haven't lied to her, nor have I controlled her – her mind is too strong to break. She is just a smart young woman; I think you could learn a lot from her."
"Are you going to let me learn from her?" Anakin sneered, "Because I'm not leaving! I'd rather die than leave Padmé here with you!!"
"You refuse to leave then?" he asked nonchalantly, holding the suffering and disorientated Amidala back into his chest.
"I will only leave with Padmé by my side," he stated unquestionably.
"I offered your Master freedom too, young Anakin – he also chose death," the Count replied sternly.
Padmé suddenly became alert, and broke free from Dooku's hold – both mental and physical. She stepped away from him, and turned to face him, "What?" she gasped, "Death? You said you'd to let them go! You said they could go free!"
Anakin looked from Padmé to Dooku, his face firm and unyielding.
"My dear," the Count sighed contemptuously, "I can't let them free if they won't bloody well go."
"I'm not going anywhere without Padmé! I'm never going anywhere without her again!" Anakin shouted at the Count, "You can't take her away from me!!"
The Count rolled his eyes, "Fine, young Skywalker, if that is your choice…"
Padmé shook her head, "No! You said you'd let them go! You said!" she screamed, looking at him, feeling even more deceived.
"Padmé, listen," he snapped sharply, grasping her by an arm, and pulling her toward him, "I've offered them freedom. They won't go. I have, therefore, no choice but to hand them over to Poggle the Lesser…and they will then be inevitably executed."
"You promised!!" she repeated, grasping his black shirt in a threatening gesture, "You gave your word!"
"I've done all I can," he said unemotionally, staring at her stiffly.
She looked at him with absolute disbelief, shaking her head, and sliding down to her knees, feeling tears well up again in her eyes; she had never felt so helpless or alone.
"Don't give up, Padmé," Anakin said to her, "Don't let him get the better of you."
The Count pulled the Senator roughly to her feet, and glared viciously at Anakin, "Leave now, or die, boy!" he barked one last time.
"I'd rather die than leave Padmé here with you!" he retorted again.
"It's your choice," the Count shrugged, pushing Padmé on roughly out of the cell, and leaving young Skywalker alone.
TBC…