Author's Notes: Thankyou for your continuing support, everyone! It's really encouraging. On a side note, I can't update every day - it's not humanly possible, especially with school and two other fanfics on my back!
Seth: Again, thankyou. I, too, love darker stories - life isn't always (infact, is hardly ever) peachy, and I like to show it. Perhaps I exaggerate a little, but we wouldn't have drama without it...
Skywalker-Blue: I must write well if it gets you so fired up! ^_^ Thankyou!
Merrymoll: 'Scmucks?' LOL - I like that word. I'll try to keep updating as fast as I can!
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"ECLIPSE"
Part 3
Padmé was upset. She hung her head as she was urged along by the Count through yet more labyrinthine passageways of the Geonosian Hives. Her feet panned emptily against the metallic grilling upon the floor - she felt numb inside; she had been shackled by chains earlier - now she was fettered by Dooku's intangible powers.
They ascended a short flight of earthen steps, and stepped out into a sunlit arcade. The sunlight failed to even move Padmé this time, however, her moral was so low. Just remembering the last look she had seen on Anakin's face…watching him hung there, helpless, and ready to die…it was painful. She felt so insensate, so alone, and still as though her mind was not her own.
A winged Geonosian fluttered up from below, by the edge of the pathway, making it evident to Padmé that they were on an upper level of the Hive. If one looked over the barrier that bordered this promenade, they'd see a substantial drop below, rimmed with avenues of other, lower floors.
She felt like a child being ushered along by an impatient parent, with the Count gripping her tight and forcefully under her arm. She finally looked up to him, focusing on her surroundings a little more – he didn't look back; he seemed to be concentrating on where he was going.
She was about to ask (after debating with herself inside her head whether or not to talk to this man) what was happening now, when he turned a sharp corner from off the path into a side room. They descended a refined, furnished flight of steps, walked around a metallic-looking, crimson pillar, and then entered into a large conference room. And here they stopped.
In the centre of this room was a large, circular table ringed with seats, many of which were currently occupied. The room was otherwise quite basic, having the typical deep red-sandstone walls engraved with the twin-sickle border.
Padmé looked over the gathering a little self-consciously, feeling embarrassed to be there; all assembled turned and looked at her, mumbling to their aides, or to the person sat next to them. She swallowed – where had the Count brought her, now?
"Ah, greetings Ladies and Gentlemen," Dooku nodded courteously with a pleasant smile; he took a seat at the table head, with Jango Fett stood to his right, flanking him like a bodyguard. Padmé was forced to stand by his left, and felt quite out of place.
The Count looked about, noticing that Poggle was still absent. He raised his eyebrows in a personal shrugging gesture, and continued regardless of the Archduke's absence; "So, the time has come," he declared eloquently, "You have all decided – wisely, I may add – to pledge your allegiances to the Confederacy of Independent Systems, and join the thousands of other star systems and organisations aiming to achieve a brighter future for this downtrodden galaxy.
"Now is not a time to idly sit back and watch events ensue, as you are all aware – it is a time where one must strive to do what is best for themselves, their associates, and the galaxy; it is a time when one must choose between the Republic and the Separatists; it is a time when we must look to the future, and do what we believe is right for it. By joining the Confederacy, you have made that move for the future – the move in the right direction. We are now at our most powerful, and everyday we can see that the Republic only crumbles more, to the suffering of all absent-minded enough to stay within it. We have arsenal at our disposal, should we feel the need to use such force against the failing constitution of Palpatine, but, more importantly, have an exceptional range of influential individuals on our side – what more power could we ask for?"
Viceroy Gunray, sat with his aide in the far corner, could hold his tongue no longer; since the Count had entered the room, he'd had his canny, red eyes set upon Amidala, wondering why his arch-nemesis was amongst those present in the room; "What is the meaning of this, Count?" he blurted, storming up onto his feet, and pointing angrily at the Nubian Senator, "Why is she amongst your prospective Confederacy allies?"
The other members were equally inquisitive, and looked to Dooku for answers. The Count was momentarily unmoved.
"I said that I wanted her head on my desk!" Nute ranted on, frantically gesticulating with his hands, "Not attached to her body and stood by it!"
Dooku's gaze tightened, and he stared sternly at the Neimoidian, lounging back in his seat; he was most annoyed by Nute's outburst, and Padmé could feel it, as an extra weight from his rage piled on top of his invisible constraint of her.
"There's been a change in circumstance, Viceroy," he growled, his voice unnerving. He effortlessly commanded authority in the room, leaving no wonder as to how he had become such a popular and respected leader; "And," he continued with a gentle menace, leaning forward and placing his hands onto the tabletop, "I wasn't under the impression that this was your desk..."
All the others assembled turned to look at Nute, like a class of children would look upon a delinquent who had just been rebuked by the teacher.
"I refuse to sign your treaty whilst she lives, Count," Gunray continued, his voice faltering slightly under pressure, "We had an agreement!"
Dooku looked at him with a slight vexation, "I'm disappointed to hear that, Viceroy," he said in a continually measured tone. Padmé watched the composure of the Count, and noticed the huge difference between his equanimity and Gunray's consternation - breaking the will of the Viceroy seemed to have been no hard task for him. It made Padmé recall how all too easily she, too, had broken under his will earlier – but it had taken a little more than mere paralinguistics to rein her in…
She wished she could say he hadn't dispirited her at all, but she couldn't.
Padmé looked over to Gunray, staring into his eyes, "So you will run back to the Republic?" she asked him. The gathering was surprised to hear her speak, and she even caught Dooku off-guard with her contribution. She continued, "I'm sure they'll be happy to have you back, especially after the trouble you caused ten years ago, Viceroy."
Nute hesitated, pursing his lip, his anger toward the Senator boiling beneath his scaly skin.
Dooku rose to his feet; being an exceptionally tall human being, he could look the naturally lofty Neimoidian straight in the eyes from across the table, "She makes a good point, Viceroy – where will you turn when the two main factions of the galaxy are against you?"
Gunray was too cowardly to take his complaint further – he didn't want to mess with the Separatist leader; no one in their right mind took Dooku on in debate – he was too crafty in that department. Nute gradually returned to his seat, though still far from pleased with the Senator's presence – he would forever hold her a grudge.
Dooku turned to Padmé, nodding to her in approval. Padmé made no obvious reaction in response, and just looked down, indecisive about what she had just done; she felt that she would have to at least try and integrate with these Separatists if she was to fight with them for the future of the Republic, but cooperating so soon might not have been the best move to make.
"So, now that the Viceroy has had his spat, let's get down to business..," the Count said, making a blatant shot at Nute, and speaking up to the whole gathering, "Today is the day you will become part of the Confederacy – today is the day that you sign up for a more prominent and promising future to this galaxy, a galaxy neglected by the Jedi, and further corrupted by the Chancellor's wretched grip!"
He began to circumnavigate the table, pacing behind each seated person, "All of you gathered here today – representatives of the Commerce Guild, the Intergalactic Banking Clan, the Techno Union, the Corporate Alliance, and Senators Nudo and Tikkes from the Republic - will now sign their part away to our movement! Welcome to the beginning of a glorious future!"
He completed his orbit of the table, and turned to Amidala. He placed a hand upon one of her shoulders, and urged her forward. The assembly looked upon the Count as he smiled fondly at the young Nubian, seeming to offer her support; "I noticed a few 'discontented' looks from you all when I escorted this here Senator into the room," he said, his voice a little more subdued, glancing again toward Padmé briefly, "But she is here on the same conditions as the rest of you. Yes, a Senator who was once against us has now joined us! I believe that this conversion embodies what hope there is for the galaxy's future! This young Senator has seen sense, and come over to the Confederacy, and with us now aims to rebuild this galaxy's dilapidated government... if we can turn one, we can turn another! Our cause is gradually winning them all!"
Amidala looked across all the varied eyes fixed upon her, the atmosphere feeling discreetly tense and heavy. Each of the representatives gathered sized her up with varying amounts of reluctance.
["It is your choice, Count, who you allow into our midst,"] Shu Mai of the Commerce Guild said in her high-pitched tongue, ["I respect your decision, and welcome the Senator to our alliance."]
Dooku threw her a charismatic smile, "Thankyou, milady," he nodded to the Guild's president, "I can always count upon your openness of mind."
"I was under the impression that she was fighting against the Military Creation Act," Wat Tambor of the Techno Union warbled electronically.
Padmé had already noticed that most of the dignitaries here weren't intent on addressing her personally.
"Yes, she was," Dooku replied, "But we all knew that that was in vain… it will be passed no matter what opposition there is – and this army will then be abused. War is inevitable. But if it is a war for our future, and for the future of generations to come, then is it not worth fighting for? There are so many things we need to improve before our time on this mortal plain passes – let us be remembered as the ones who made the Republic into a model and functioning people!"
"Here, here!" San Hill of the Banking Clan trilled in his distinguished tone, waving his hand about haughtily.
Dooku nodded to him, "And to show that we all have the utmost trust in one-another, Senator Amidala will sign this Treaty, between organisation, body or person and the Confederacy, first."
Padmé's eyes widened, and she turned to him in astonishment, "First?" she gasped, "Now?"
"Yes, my lady," Dooku replied slowly, smiling at her steadfastly.
Jango grimaced beneath his helmet, stood silently behind the Separatist leader; he was astounded by the Count's abrupt conversion of the Senator to the Confederate cause, and he wasn't sure quite how the man did it. Everyone had their skills, and swaying people to his cause – whether through oral influence or by vicious force – was Dooku's speciality.
Suddenly, entering the conference room came Poggle the Lesser. The Geonosian slowly paced in, tapping his cane upon the floor, and looked across the gathering. He took his seat by the Count's, passing him dazedly; ["I don't know what came over me,"] he said with obvious befuddlement, ["I just had the sudden urge to go for a long walk…"]
Padmé watched Dooku's face prick up with a sly, meaningful smirk. He opened his hand to an empty chair the other side of his own, seating Amidala, before retaking his own seat, "Well, you know, Archduke," he beamed dryly, "We all get these 'urges' sometimes…"
Amidala disliked the suggestiveness in the Count's tone, and opted to just look down at the table infront of her instead; she immediately noticed how high-tech it was, with a little computer console fitted before each chair. It was dully illuminated from below with large panels of light, too.
"We are about to sign the treaty with all these fine people," Dooku continued, opening his hand out to the gathering. Many were customers of the Geonosian Droid Foundries, so it hadn't been too hard to win them over to the cause – though he hadn't spoken of it now, he had promised them improved profits from this future galaxy, and a hint of capitalism, too.
["Excellent,"] Poggle nodded, ["And the Jedi… did you set them free?"]
Dooku's eyes lit up, "Goodness, no Archduke!" he said blithely, "It's not that I didn't want to; it's just the blasted things wouldn't go!"
He laughed insensitively, and Poggle chuckled too, ["Oh, excellent!"] the Geonosian said, slapping a hand onto the table top in gesture, ["Then the execution is still on! The Hive will be pleased! It's such a long time since we've had the opportunity of putting outsiders to death! They love to see alien peoples suffer!"]
"Yes," Dooku sighed, his smirk remaining; he looked down to the table centre in a brief moment of thought.
Padmé frowned toward him – none of that had sounded good.
["Then make things hasty, Count,"] Poggle said, rubbing his hands together, ["I have an execution to organise!"]
"Of course, Archduke, bear with me," he nodded, returning his gaze to the Geonosian.
Padmé slowly looked back to him – his manner was so polite and commendable…it made the fact that he could be so downright evil most agonising to believe.
He clicked his fingers. Jango left the room, and a few moments later, returned with a piece of parchment – it was a most unusual sight in such a technologically advanced age, but, despite even the level of technology that existed, a treaty still had to be signed upon old-fashioned paper…
Dooku nodded to Jango, taking the parchment from him, "After you, milady," he said gently, handing Padmé the agreement and a writing implement. She looked at the contract blankly, swallowing hard, then glanced up to those around her – all eyes were on her. She paused, so unsure and doubtful.
["Don't they teach you humans to write in the Republic any more?"] Poggle snapped impatiently, monitoring her hesitation, making a sarcastic remark with full knowledge that the Senator couldn't comprehend him.
Dooku glanced back to Poggle, "Give her chance, Archduke…she's had an eventful day," he stated.
Padmé held the pen in her hand, and slowly looked back to the Count again. He stared hard at her – his gaze was harsh, but the aura that emitted from him was supportive and encouraging. He made a very slight nod toward her.
Padmé took a deep breath, and put the pen onto the paper…
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It had been but a few hours since she and Anakin had been captured, and things were already spiralling beyond her control. She had signed the Treaty, aligning Naboo – but more importantly, herself – with the Confederacy of Independent Systems… the 'rebels', to be brief, who had broken away from the Republic. It still hurt that she'd had to do that, but there really was no alternative.
She only wished Anakin could have seen it that way, and gone free, instead of remain here, trying to be a hero, and die at the Geonosians' hands. Obi-Wan likewise; she felt so guilty. But now was not the time to lose hope. There was always hope.
Coming out of deep thought, Padmé looked about herself as she entered into the court chamber.
She reckoned that she had never felt so disorientated, as far as buildings went, in her life! Walking around the Geonosian Hives was something akin to walking about a house of mirrors; she had been marched from the Droid Foundries to Dooku's Office, then to Poggle's quarters, through to the Stalagasin Hive prison cells, on to the conference room…and now into the courtroom. And everywhere looked so alike! It wasn't so much the final destinations that looked the same, but more the passageways between them; the Geonosians just must have naturally gifted navigation skills, because she sure wouldn't be able to work out her way around this subterranean maze, even if given a hundred years in which to do so.
The courtroom was large, and wide; it consisted of three tiers of spectator stands (basically, large sandstone ledges about the walls, with no seats or barriers) on which the working class of Geonosis could stand and watch from, and on the bottom floor, a dignitary spectator stand, complete with seating, which was where she was heading now, with the rest of the recent Separatist enrollers.
The floor was the focal point of the chamber, and was beautifully tiled, and on a par with the ground tier of stands; those on trial would stand there. At the head of the room, raised to the level of the second tier, was the judge's dock, carved from more sandstone. Sunlight streamed in through the roof above, but, despite that, the chamber was very dark in places. The main doors were at the back of the room, opposite the judge's dais – the accused would be lead in through these.
The atmosphere was livid with excitement as the lower class Geonosians crawled and fluttered into the stands. They all chattered to one another in their bizarre language, eagerly awaiting the trial of the outsiders. Meanwhile, Padmé was sat down in the dignitary boxes, between Count Dooku and Passel Argente of the Corporate Alliance.
There was a clear social gap in Geonosian society, with the workers and dignitaries placed so far apart, and in distinctly different seating. But it was an accepted system; the upper classes – of the likes of Poggle, which were few and far between – were of the 'laissez faire' variety, and the workers were quite content to serve the upper classes, and live the inferior way of life.
Amidala felt fidgety and uncomfortable – she didn't want to sit here through this trial of her friends, Obi-Wan and Anakin. She turned to the Count next to her, feeling a little more self-assured in his presence for the time being, "How can you make me sit through this?" she discreetly questioned him.
The crowds continued to gather, the side doors to the hall open for the public to come in through. Everyone was eagerly awaiting the entrance of Poggle into the judge's booth.
The Count gradually turned his head to her, "I thought you believed in justice, milady?" he asked her quietly.
Nute Gunray was sat the other side of Dooku (Padmé speculated so that the Count could keep an eye on him), and she watched him warily for a moment, before retorting, "You call this shambles of a court room justice?"
Dooku merely grinned at her tenacity, replying, "Well, we must respect the cultures of others." He then settled back into his seat, waiting for the appearance of the Archduke.
Amidala sighed downheartedly, shaking her head in denial, before looking down.
Suddenly, the courtroom silenced – and Poggle the Lesser made his entrance into his stand. He looked over the spectator stands slowly – they were by now full of Geonosians, waiting to see the trial and execution of the outsiders. He then checked to see if his fellow Separatists were sat in their seats. Finding that they were, he signalled to a couple of armed, winged Geonosians at the back of the room; ["Bring forth the prisoners!"] he chirped.
The two guards nodded, and opened the main doors slowly. All the Geonosians began to hiss hatefully as the two prisoners were brought in, their hands shackled.
Padmé could only look up at them for a brief second, before pain and guilt took a hold, and pulled her shameful head down – she wished that she could rush out to them, and fix this mess; she wished that everything would just be okay.
Kenobi was clearly exhausted. He walked on unsteady feet, and his head was hung in a burdensome manner. Every breath he took was an effort, and every step he had to make was painful. Skywalker, on the other hand, was still quite lively, and thriving on the rage Dooku had fed to him. As they were ushered into the room by the two Geonosians – each, of which, were armed with electro-pikes. Anakin turned to see Padmé sat dejectedly by the silver-haired Count. He scowled profoundly, his brow deeply furrowing.
Noticing the vicious look he got from the young Padawan, Dooku purposely threw Anakin an arrogant smirk in return, silently taunting him. Anakin's lip twitched, his rage still burning fresh, and he made a sudden rush toward the Count, pushing his Geonosian escort out of the way and shouting angrily.
The entire crowd of Geonosians gasped, watching the energetic young captive make a dash toward the dignitaries. But it was in vain; Obi-Wan's escort flew speedily from the weary Jedi's side to intercept the unruly Padawan. With a swift flash of his electro-pike, he stunned Anakin, sending a bolt of electrical energy through his body. Ani faltered in shock, collapsing onto the floor, short of a few metres of the spectator boxes.
Padmé put her hands to her mouth, seeing the suffering Anakin was going through; she felt blameworthy for his unsound condition.
"Reckless, that one," Dooku commented conceitedly, and loud enough to enable Anakin to hear him.
Unable to return to his feet whilst his body convulsed from the electrical surge, Anakin could only glare at the Count as he was hauled back to his feet, and dragged to the room's centre, ready for his trial.
Once things had again settled, and a couple more Geonosian guards had been drawn in to control the prisoners, Poggle began. He placed his hand onto the edge of the dock, and announced, ["Master and Apprentice Jedi, you have been charged and found guilty of espionage."]
Kenobi stared at Poggle blandly from under his increasingly heavy eyelids, and Anakin made an equally chagrined expression – neither of them could understand the Archduke.
Padmé realised that her two friends, alike herself, could not comprehend Geonosian. She turned to the Count desperately, "They can't understand him!" she said, placing her hands over Dooku's arm to get his attention, "How can this possibly be considered a fair trial?"
Dooku looked down haughtily at her grip on his arm, and withdrew it, before looking into her visage in a self-aggrandizing way, "I don't think that being caught spying is fair, either, Senator – do you?" he asked her rhetorically, "They are only getting what they deserve."
She stared at him for a moment, before having to ask, "What did he say?"
Nute turned to look at Dooku suspiciously, monitoring his body language closely. The Count leant over toward Amidala, "He said your friends have been charged and found guilty of espionage."
Padmé gulped, pulling back a little, "Since when?" she queried, "When were they given a proper trial?"
Dooku stared hard at her, causing her will to buckle, making her look away; "Since Poggle says so," he whispered insensitively. He slowly sat back into his seat again, noticing Gunray's eyes upon him. The Neimoidian fast turned away, and Dooku just smirked knowingly.
"Aren't we going to get a translation here?" Anakin asked considerably impertinently, rousing a little from his stun; he was in an even fouler mood than he had been when he entered the courtroom, now.
The spectators chattered to one another. Poggle sighed, turning to look down at Dooku from his dock, ["Count Dooku, would you be so kind?"] he asked impatiently, annoyed by the two Jedis' lack of knowledge of his language.
"If you insist, Archduke," Dooku replied. He rose to his feet from his seat, and raised his voice, proclaiming, "Master Kenobi, young Skywalker, you have been charged with espionage, and found guilty."
Both Jedi, though incredibly weary, managed at least to throw the Count a pair of vicious scowls. Dooku simply consumed their rage, and took satisfaction from it.
Obi-Wan took a deep breath, gathering his disarrayed senses, "You are committing an act of war, Archduke," he said drearily, trying to address the issues at hand with the Separatists, "I hope you're prepared for the consequences."
Poggle glared at the Jedi, feeling patronised, ["We build weapons, Master Jedi. That is our business! Of course we're prepared!"]
Kenobi inhaled deeply, dropping to his knees, and lowering his head – he felt faint. Anakin watched his master protectively, and turned to Dooku, awaiting the translation.
The Count folded his arms across his chest, throwing Anakin another smirk, "We build weapons, Master Jedi. That is our business. Of course we are prepared," he paraphrased.
Anakin snorted in contempt, shaking his head gently with revulsion.
Gunray was getting fed up with these things, and rose to his feet. Padmé watched the Neimoidian warily, knowing he still had it in for her. Dooku threw the Viceroy a less than favourable look, too.
"Get on with it!" he demanded, "Carry out the sentence! I want to see them suffer! They deserve to after what they did to our Federation at Naboo!"
Anakin glared at the sycophantic Neimoidian, smirking briefly as the memory of his escapade in the Nubian starfighter returned to mind, when, at the mere age of nine, he'd infiltrated and destroyed the Federation's Droid control ship.
["Yes, yes…"] Poggle sighed, noticing the crowds were itching to get on with things, too, ["You are hereby sentenced to death! Take them to the arena!!"]
The crowds cheered, and already began to pour out to prepare for the big event.
Kenobi was pulled onto his feet, and two guards took a hold of each of the Jedi, and began to lead them out.
"What? What?" Anakin yelled toward the Count, as a commotion about him arose, "What did he say?"
Dooku looked at him hard, "Execution. Death," he stated short and sharply, watching the two Jedi wheeled out of the courtroom. The crowds continued to roll out, those with wings flying about in excitement.
Nute rubbed his hands together, "At least something good will come out of today," he grimaced, turning and leaving the courtroom with the rest of the dignitaries. Padmé knew that his comment had been aimed at her.
She stood and looked up to the Count, "You're evil," she snarled, "How can you be so cold?"
"Life makes one cold," he replied, watching the prisoners escorted out of the far door, then dropping his line of sight to Padmé. She looked stern, but he could sense her heart breaking within – whose heart wouldn't if their friends had been sentenced to death infront of their eyes?
"You must be strong, as your Padawan friend earlier advised," he added, in a more subdued tone.
She looked down, unsure what to do, or how to act. Dooku raised his hand, and tipped her head up to face him, "You've made the right decision, Padmé. You're on the right side of the war."
"There is no right side in war," she said quietly, "War is wrong."
"It is, unfortunately, inevitable," he reminded her, "And I'm sorry for that…"
She glanced away, feeling tears well up within herself again – it finally hit her that she wasn't going to see Anakin and Obi-Wan again. The Count watched her carefully, and raised his arm, placing it about her shoulders, and pulling her into him. She felt the coldness of his touch, the dominance again, but she just ignored it – the empty feeling of losing her friends was more intense than that. She just cried – she didn't care whose chest she was crying into – and she prayed that there might be a small hope that her friends would survive.
TBC…
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NB: Inspiration for this scene came from the deleted scene 'Anakin & Padmé on Trial' from the awesome 'Clones 'DVD. Thanks to the guys and gals at Lucasfilm who refurbished it. ^_^