Author's Notes: Thanks to Blitzen who threw me some helpful criticism about my spellings and grammar and stuff – I'm now gonna slowly go back over what I've written and just correct a few minor boo-boos before I go on. She's also gonna BETA my work, which is great! This'll be my most refined fanfic ever!
There's a smidgen of swearing in this chapter, btw – and it's taken me several hours combined to write this blasted thing, so you all had better enjoy it! LOL
Just so that you don't have to wait any longer, I've posted this before thoroughly checking it – I've read through it, but in two sessions (it takes that long!), so there may still be mistakes in it and stuff that needs slight editing, but I think it's all okay! MTFBWY!
Ami: You don't understand my Dooku fascination? Heh – well, I'm afraid I just can't help how I feel! It's original, though, isn't it? And you seem intrigued by it, anyway, so it can't be all bad! ^_^ Thanks for reading!
Heather Wan: I haven't read the AotC novel, so I can't compare, but thankyou anyway – it's a most flattering comment! And don't even think about what's waiting up my sleeve… it's not pleasant! o_0 Honestly, it isn't. I hope you like going as dark as dark can go, and as cruel as cruel can be…
Merrymoll: Thankies! I've got myself liking Poggle now, too… I like these 'minor' baddies. And the hangar duel is nasty – and I hope you like it, coz it took me forever to write!
Skywalker-Blue: No, I ain't posted it on TF.net forums – I don't really go to that site much. I have signed up as a BETA reader on their fanfic area, now, though, but I wouldn't submit this fic coz it kinda dances on the border of PG-13. ^_~ On another note, yes Dooku is being nicer to Padmé… for now. I have made the story an AU – it always has been one, but I've been thinking about where to take it for ages! Don't expect anything too happy to come out of it, though; the real Episode 3's gonna be dark enough, but this… well, can you say 'pitch black'? Heh – when I go dark, I can go seriously dark…
Disclaimer: No… I still own nothing. Does anyone know where can I buy shares in Tyranus and Sidious…? ^_~
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"ECLIPSE"
Part 7
Kenobi held his arm infront of his face as the gunship he was aboard ploughed through a cloud of dust, thrown up from the battlefield below; a Federation starship had been shot down by the Republic forces, and had in turn fallen to the ground, sending up masses of sight-obscuring debris into the atmosphere.
As the gunship finally began to emerge from this debris-filled cloud, and vision became clearer, Obi-Wan spotted movement over across the red sand dunes below; "Look over there!" he shouted, pointing abruptly toward the horizon.
Anakin turned in the direction that his Master was indicating, squinting hard through the murky air. Then he saw it, too – a speeder bike, rapidly rushing across the inhospitable wilderness, flanked in the skies above by two small Geonosian fighters; "It's Dooku," he growled, the essence of the Count irrefutable to his Force senses. His fists tightened, and he gritted his teeth, his anger burning within, "Shoot 'im down!" he ordered.
"No, don't!" Kenobi quickly cut his Padawan off.
Anakin frowned at his Master, feeling wrongfully reproved.
The trooper manning the gun turret turned to Obi-Wan, "We're out of rockets anyway, sir," he reported obediently.
Kenobi nodded, taking this in; "Just follow him," he commanded plainly, before slowly turning back to Anakin. He saw the frustration on his protégé's visage, and said bluntly, before his Padawan could snap at him; "He has Padmé with him."
"What?" Anakin cried, pushing past his Master, and leaning just out of the ship so that he could have a clear view of the Count ahead. He focused hard on the tiny craft, and sure enough, Padmé was with the Count, sat behind him on the speeder…and seeming to be holding on for dear life. Ani turned back to Obi-Wan, "We've gotta stop him!" he stated urgently and without question.
"We will, Anakin, be patient," Kenobi replied steadily, gesturing downwards with his hands in a placating motion.
"Patient? Master, he has Padmé with him! I won't let him take her away from me!"
"She's a fully grown and very intelligent woman, my young Padawan," Obi sharply responded, "She can take care of herself."
"You just don't understand!" Anakin hollered with aggravation.
"Anakin!" Obi-Wan bellowed, raising his voice above his apprentice's, "Enough!"
Anakin looked hard at his Master, his lip twitching in irritation.
"Don't lose your head," Kenobi continued, "I can't take Dooku alone. I need you! If we catch him, we can end this war right now! Focus on that! You can't afford to let your emotions rule you. We have a job to do."
Ani turned away, inhaling deeply in an attempt to keep his cool – what did his Master know of how he was feeling? He'd never fallen in love, or had his mother die in his arms! He didn't have a clue about life outside of the confines of the Jedi Temple! He didn't know anything, and he couldn't possibly understand!
Kenobi shook his head discreetly at the boy, feeling his ability to control his reckless Padawan slipping. He held on to the handrail above as the ship rocked through another field of turbulence, and concentrated on the battle he was sure was ahead. He just hoped that his weary body would hold out.
The unmistakable thrum of a Republic Cruiser was gaining momentum behind; soon, it'd be on top of them.
Padmé turned and looked at the approaching gunship, it's rough hide glinting a little in the light of the setting Geonosian sun. It seemed to be the only one in their pursuit and had, surprisingly, made absolutely no effort to shoot them down. Not that this was a bad thing at all; she just felt that it was quite odd.
She turned back round to face the front and clutched Dooku firmly about the waist, leaning her head upon his back – his body made a good shield from the wind, at least. She had good reason to hold on so tight – she knew that if her grip faltered, she'd fall off. And at this speed, there was no guarantee one would get up again if that did occur.
Padmé watched the sand flash by beneath her, the speeder bike shooting at a phenomenal speed over the red desert; she wasn't a huge fan of speeder-bike travel, but it was quick and agile, if nothing else.
Up in the air, flanking her and the Count, were two Geonosian fighter ships, acting as escorts and guards. These two craft were small, dagger-like vehicles, painted a dull gold, which had tiny, bubble-like cockpits, in which the pilots operated, and were armed with deceptively powerful gun turrets.
The Count himself now made a fleeting look back at the Republic gunship as he heard it approaching behind him; it wasn't too close, and didn't pose too much of a threat, but he knew that it was better to be safe than sorry. Turning back around, he inputted a code into the interface of his speeder's control panel, sending an order to both his fighter craft escorts to shoot the gunship down. He then increased the momentum of his speeder, and shot on forward – time was of the essence.
The Geonosian fighters received the command, and somersaulted about in the air, circling backwards overhead until they came behind the gunship, before then letting a rapid volley of vicious fire loose upon it. It knocked the Republic vessel wildly astray, and proved that the petite Geonosian fighters more than made up for their size with their firepower!
Aboard, Anakin, Kenobi and the entourage clung on to whatever they could as their ship was violently assaulted, and they were flung all over the deck! There were a couple of loud cries as two of the troopers fell from the ship, and plummeted down to the sand below; fortunately, they weren't too high into the air, and the sand cushioned their fall.
"The bastard!" Anakin cried without thought, grasping on to a handgrip above, trying to keep his feet stable on the ship's floor.
Before Kenobi could rebuke his Padawan for language, the Geonosian fighters unleashed another harsh torrent of laser fire into the ship's hull, and they were thrown all over the place, within the transport, yet again.
"Hurry!" Obi-Wan urged the pilot, "Try and out run them before we get blown into smithereens!"
"Yes sir," the composed pilot replied; speed was his only means of defence at current, seeing as the vessel's entire arsenal and been spent on the battles over the droid foundries earlier. He did his best to dodge and outrun the Geonosian fighters, but they were so fast and nimble in comparison to his bulky gunship that it made his job almost impossible.
Padmé glanced back once again to the Republic craft behind, watching the Count's fighter guardians make short work of it, and throw it off course. She swallowed slowly before turning back toward the front again, and by now noticed that a large tower was looming up on the horizon, its pinnacle reaching high into the heavens; it was another of the Geonosian termite-like mounds. This one was particularly tall, though, and it seemed to look most ominous in the red light of the waning sun as the day drew to an end…
The Count revved up his bike's velocity once more, and gave the repulsorlift a sharp thrust, attaining further height from the ground. Padmé maintained her grip on him, watching the desert floor fall further and further away from her feet as Dooku took the craft up into the air. Looking ahead, just over his shoulder, she saw that there was an opening in the approaching tower wall – a metallic ramp projected out from the rock face that led into a dark hangar within. She squinted in the sunlight, the laser fire of the Geonosian fighters still audible behind them, and watched as they came closer and closer to the outcropping.
"They're heading for that hangar door!" Anakin yelled, pointing ahead; he had to grab on hard to the handrail again as the craft thrust to the left, the Geonosian fighters giving the gunship pilot hell. Kenobi backed into one of the ship's inner walls, leaning into it for balance, "Patience, Anakin!" he ordered, but knew his efforts were in vain – his Padawan was in too firm a frenzy.
Anakin took his lightsabre from his belt – the green one he'd been lent in the arena battle – and held it loosely in his hand, preparing to take Dooku on in combat and win Padmé back, "Drop us off on that projection!" he ordered the pilot.
"As you wish, sir," the pilot replied, pushing the gunship into a final burst of speed toward the tower in a last ditch attempt to outmanoeuvre the Geonosian fighters.
Obi-Wan pulled himself over to his Padawan's side, "Don't rush in, Anakin," he warned him quietly, though stringently; he knew that his apprentice was a skilled duellist, but so was the Count. Notoriously so.
Anakin watched as Dooku's speeder rushed into the opening in the sandstone wall of the tower. It was only a matter of moments before he'd have Padmé back by his side, and he didn't care if it meant bloodying his hands…
Dooku brought his speeder bike to a stop in the secret hangar; it was cleverly concealed within the rocky mountainside, and far enough away from the main Hives as to be an assuredly safe place for him to leave his main vessel. Padmé heaved a sigh of relief, pulling her arms back from about the Count, and sliding off of the bike, whilst Dooku merely stepped off the speeder as if the chase across the desert had been something completely of the norm. He wafted his cloak about to knock off any stray grains of sand, before walking calmly across the room to a small control panel, elevated on a platform from the floor.
Padmé took a few slow steps about the vicinity, looking unsurely around the rock-strewn chamber; the ceiling and main structure of the room were made of the standard Geonosian sandstone, naturally complete with the twin sickle border, whilst the floor was covered in a dull, grey metal. Several metallic pillars reached up from the floor to the ceiling in odd corners of the chamber; they seemed to be part of some kind of system, and she speculated probably provided power to the hangar.
Looking about to where the Count was, she finally spotted a large ship, sat patiently waiting on its legs by the far wall. It looked very much alike the Geonosian speeders that had recently given them cover across the desert, but was larger, and seemed somewhat more refined.
"Is that your ship?" she asked, pacing over to him.
"Yes," he replied abruptly, flicking about on his control panel.
She nodded, looking about the room again, beginning to feel a little uneasy.
Suddenly, the Count stopped fidgeting over his console, and turned to look toward his vessel; it faced up into a funnel, through which Padmé guessed it would soar out into the open, and fly away. As he pressed down onto a button, the end of this funnel flooded with sunlight – he had opened the hatch at the end of it.
"Get on board," he ordered unquestionably.
Padmé looked at him silently, before hesitantly beginning to walk toward the ship, taking steady, but tentative steps.
And then it began…
"You're gonna pay for all the Jedi you killed today, Dooku!"
The Count froze, and calmly turned about on the spot – in the far doorway stood Anakin and Kenobi, lightsabres at the ready. He looked over them both silently, unmoved.
Padmé also froze as she heard her lover's familiar tone. She turned around and her heart leapt with joy as she set her eyes on, not just Anakin, but Kenobi too, both still alive and well. She opened her mouth to shout over to them, but, all of a sudden, her breath jarred in her throat – she couldn't shout! Her words had just cut short! And then she realised what was going on; she felt it again…a cold, dark influence seeping into her mind, clutching her consciousness, and barring her will. She looked across to Dooku, and noticed him give her a slight glance out of the corner of his eyes – he'd reinstated his hold on her. For now, he just wanted to keep her out of the way.
By this time, Anakin had seen Padmé, stood near Dooku's sleeping ship; he wanted to run to her and hold her in his arms, but he didn't – he had serious business at hand first. He turned his sabre handle about in his palm, eyeing Dooku hard. The elderly warrior just glared back in silence, his own hand going to his side as he anticipated a violent brawl.
"We'll take him together," Obi-Wan said to his protégé under his breath, keeping his eyes on Dooku, "You go in slowly on the left, and –"
Anakin's fuse blew, and he lost control of his rage, "I'm taking him now!!" he cried, rushing at the Count in frenzy, his eyes livid.
"No, Anakin! No! No!!" Kenobi yelled, fearing that this would happen. But it was too late…Anakin was storming unstoppably, lightsabre a-blazing, across the open floor of the hangar, eager to tear the Count apart! Padmé just stood and watched in dismay, powerless to intervene…
At first, it seemed as if Dooku had no intention of even defending himself – he stood stark still, watching the boy calmly with his sharp eyes, biding his time, until, at the last moment, when Anakin was but metres from him, he flung his arm up before him, and –
"ARGHH!!" Anakin suddenly screamed, buckling forward and halting in his path – shards of vicious Sith Lightning were flying from Dooku's fingers, and cascading ferociously into the young Padawan! The electrical energy thundered through his body, burning his innards with a horrific strength, striving to find ground; they travelled through his every limb, and could be seen traversing wildly over his skin and clothes.
"Anakin!" Padmé screamed, at last finding her voice; never had she known that any man or woman could hold such power of the likes of that which Dooku was now expelling…it was terrifying.
Obi-Wan stood motionless, equally shocked – Sith Lightning had been but a rumour, a tale young and naïve Padawans told one-another before bed…never had he ever dreamt that such a horror could exist, and, even worse, that a man who had once been a Jedi could master this malevolent art.
Combining the Sith Lightning with further Force powers, Dooku went on to lift Anakin into the air, and toss him into the far wall. Anakin's body hit the rock face with an almighty clash, and he then dropped lifeless to the floor, the Count simultaneously releasing him from his hold and ceasing his conjured lightning. The unruly Jedi apprentice could only heave a great sigh of agony as he found himself unable to get back to his feet, slight wisps of smoke rising from his scorched clothes and flesh.
Kenobi swallowed hard, glaring at Dooku with a further feeling of betrayal. He approached the Count little by little, holding his sabre up toward the old warrior in a hope that it would block any Sith Lightning that he decided to throw at him.
Padmé stared over at Anakin in despair, desperate to run to him and see if he was all right, but was unable to get herself to do so, still nailed to the spot by Dooku's indiscernible control.
"As you can see, my Jedi powers are far beyond yours," the Count mused certainly, holding his hand up toward Kenobi, "Now, be a sensible lad…back down."
Powerful wisps of lightning again emerged from Dooku's fingertips, and exploded toward Kenobi – but luckily, Obi's insight had been correct, and his lightsabre blocked the incoming shards of electricity. Obi-Wan tried to remain composed, wearing a brave face, "I don't think so," he hissed, successfully keeping a cool demeanour. Dooku made his typical eyebrow shrug gesture in response as he circumspectly circled the Jedi Knight, bringing his arm down to his hip. From beneath the folds of his cloak he slowly withdrew his hand, firmly clasped about the hilt of a smooth, silver lightsabre, elegant and curved in shape, reflecting the refined and dignified air of its master. He proceeded to extend his arms out to either side of him, activating the weapon in his right hand and bringing forth a blade of red nature.
Padmé looked at the Count in surprise – she hadn't noticed the hilt hung from his belt before (she guessed that he'd kept it well concealed within the pleats of his cloak) but had honestly never expected him to be one active in the field of combat; he was a political protagonist and debater, but she'd not thought of him as a fighter. Then again, she'd found a lot of things out about the Count that she'd rather not have in these past few hours.
Suddenly, Kenobi rushed fast toward Dooku, swinging a reckless blow toward his head. The Count grinned grimly, effortlessly parrying the cut, and reversing into another assault. Obi hurried into a block, shuddering beneath the impact of the blow as their sabres clashed; it wasn't encouraging for him that he already found himself struggling against Dooku, the older warrior's strikes not powerful, but deft and efficient; the harder he tried to surpass the Count's defences, the worse a position he found himself in…
It quickly became clear to Padmé that Dooku was a complete swordsman – he was elegant and graceful, with an unmistakable classical edge – a master of the old style. She couldn't fault his adept and smooth moves, and this further frightened her; on the outside, Dooku was a fine politician; on the inside, he was so much more – a polished fighter, an iniquitous oppressor, and a vicious rogue.
Kenobi slung a cleaving shot down across the Count's knees – but the latter parried it, thrusting the Jedi's blade aside, and making Obi fall a little off balance. In this instant, Dooku clipped Kenobi's ankles with a short, sharp kick, causing the Jedi to stumble a little. Obi-Wan quickly re-established his balance and stepped away from the Count cautiously, needing to regain some form of control and composure before he continued his rally against one of the Jedi's former paramount duellists.
Dooku's facial expression had become scornful, his character now sardonic and contemptible, "Grand Master Kenobi," he sneered mockingly, making a derisive bow to the Knight, "You disappoint me. Yoda holds you in such high esteem."
Kenobi's lip trembled in odium, but he held his tongue, and concentrated all his energies into the mêlée, thrusting a violent shot toward Dooku's ribcage. The Count easily parried this next cut, trapping Obi's blue sabre beneath his own for a moment; "Surely you can do better...?" he grinned widely, his smirk so wicked and mordant that Kenobi lost all tranquillity and swung an imprudent and reckless shot round toward Dooku's back. Showing up his Jedi opponent, the Count merely flipped his blade over his shoulder behind, and averted the incoming assault effortlessly; "No, I'm surprised," he continued, wheeling rapidly about to deflect Obi-Wan's next attempt at lacerating him, "Has Jedi swordsmanship really degenerated so quickly, or are you trying to make fun of me?"
Obi-Wan pulled back his sabre, moving into yet another fruitless assault, hacking wildly toward Dooku's neck. The Count parried then smoothly reversed; "Which is it?" he continued, inviting a reply to his contemptuous queries as he went on to make a swift cut toward Kenobi's waist; Obi was just quick enough to elude this next blow, deciding not to retort to the Count's disdainful comments, but his weariness was seriously catching up with him now, and he had to blink hard to stay focused as, in his line of vision, Dooku's sabre seemed to blur out into two, then back into one again; that was not a good sign.
The Count thrust his blade hard across Kenobi's chest, but Obi-Wan managed to once again deflect the blow; however, so hard had this strike rained down upon his weapon, that he was forced to stumble backward behind its impact. He hastily stepped back, holding his lightsabre up toward Dooku as he panted for breath, his limbs aching with exhaustion.
Dooku twisted and twirled his weapon skilfully about in his dexterous hands, creating a brief red swirling vortex before him, "Come, come, Master Kenobi," he derided, pointing his sabre in the direction of Obi's collarbone, "Put me out of my misery."
Obi-Wan took a deep breath, trying not to show how aggravated the Count's relentless insults were making him, and got a fresh grip on his lightsabre, eyeing the Separatist leader hard. He felt a globule of sweat trickle down his forehead; he was so tired, but he knew he had to keep fighting – he couldn't let Dooku get the better of him! He rushed at the Count, and leapt into the air, swinging his sabre down over Dooku's head as he came into land. The weapons hissed and sizzled against each other as they clashed, a furious friction burning between the blades, and, for a moment, Kenobi managed to drive Dooku back – he pummelled the former Jedi with a combination of rapid blows, coming from all directions, twisting, twirling and swinging his blade in all manners possible as he attempted to elude the dexterous Count. It never occurred to Kenobi that the sinister Separatist was purely slackening his offensive for personal amusement…
Suddenly, Dooku's superior skills began to tell again as he tired of this game, and he forced Obi-Wan into a hasty retreat, swinging, slashing, thrusting and lunging at the drained Jedi with his red sabre in a brutal reprisal; even though his attack was forceful, it was by no means reckless or wild – it was elegant and premeditated, echoing the dignity and proficiency of the man himself.
Padmé shook her head, alarmed by the rapidity of Dooku's dominance over Kenobi in combat. She swallowed, looking across to Anakin as he writhed a little on the floor, trying to get back to his feet – but the pain that the Sith Lightning had inflicted upon him was still proving too much.
Dooku increased the tempo of his attack until Kenobi could barely cope any more; Obi-Wan was pushed to his limit as he tried to defend himself, the Count pressing him further and further back, giving him no choice but to take retreating steps. Their lightsabres flashed and sizzled as they came against one-another's time and again, the smell of ozone filling the air, and the crackle of raw, fatal energy echoing about the cavernous walls.
Then, all of a sudden, the Count's lightsabre flashed rapidly passed Kenobi's, breaking his flagging defence!
"Argh!" Kenobi cried, Dooku's sabre inflicting a burning wound across his shoulder. He began to tumble downward, the pain too much for his already ravaged body to take. But the Count wasn't prepared to leave it at that – he quickly jabbed his sabre down toward Kenobi's leg in a follow-through assault; "ARGH!!" the weary Jedi yelled again, but more intensely than before, his inner thigh now also scorched by the Count's blade, his flesh savagely impaired. He stumbled over his own exhausted feet, and collapsed onto the floor, his lightsabre skittering away across the room. He cringed in agony, sweating beading his body, and put a hand to his leg in a vague hope that it would impede the pain that pulsated from his wound; he felt completely unable to go on.
The Count looked down upon Kenobi with little expression, swinging his sabre around in his hand again as he paced about Obi-Wan's lame form. Padmé shook her head; "Please don't," was all she could quietly utter, fearing for Obi's life, "Please don't…" Her feet still seemed to be frozen to the spot, and she couldn't seem to pull herself free; the Count was taking no chances with her during this encounter.
Slowly, Dooku raised his lightsabre over his head, stepping up to the side of Obi-Wan's body. Kenobi looked up to him anxiously and helplessly, wincing in grief as his wounds throbbed vigorously, sending unbearable shocks of agony round his fatigued body.
"I'm sorry, old friend," Dooku murmured as he and Kenobi's eyes met, echoing his earlier words to Mace. He swallowed, his gaze hardening, and in a swift movement, he plunged his sabre down toward Kenobi. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and Padmé turned away in horror, unable to watch such carnage – but suddenly…
CLASH!
Padmé heard the friction of two sabres meeting once again. Forcing herself to turn back round, she saw that, miraculously, Anakin was back into the fray! Dooku and the teenage Padawan stared eyeball-to-eyeball, each giving the other the most formidable look. It was then that Padmé couldn't help but see the strong parallels between the two men – they shared similarly intense eyes, embodied enormous Force potential, and were both incredibly obstinate, always wanting their own way.
"Brave of you, boy – but foolish," Dooku said boldly, his voice deep and officious, "I would have thought you'd have learnt your lesson."
Anakin threw him a cocky nod, "I am a slow learner," he smiled caustically, throwing the Count briefly off-balance with a rapid attack, fuelled by his deep-set antagonism. Anakin's lightsabre flashed, swinging violently toward Dooku – first to the left, then down to the right; it came up from below, then down from overhead, and all the time, the Count was forced to parry quickly and efficiently, given no time to move into his favoured stance of offence.
Then, completely to his surprise, Dooku felt a sharp pain shoot down his arm as Anakin's sabre blazed past his eyes; "Ach!" he cringed fleetingly, drawing back. He slung his free hand onto his arm, and held it there for a moment, whilst Anakin, meanwhile, paused unsurely.
Seeing that the elder warrior was momentarily occupied, Anakin managed to throw Padmé a brief glance; he saw the fear on her face and sensed the trauma in her heart, and found himself only more fuelled up to finish the Count off – he was responsible for causing Padmé all this woe, and he would pay!
Dooku looked at his arm as he slowly removed his hand from where he'd planted it, revealing a smear of blood where Anakin had nicked him. He looked hard at the sore wound, almost in denial of the fact that his defences had been penetrated. Taking a few breaths, he suddenly felt a colossal rage flood through him; he drew on the power of the Dark side to feed his fury, and fill his every limb with a renewed strength and vigour. Lifting his line of sight to again focus on Anakin, the Count's eyes lit up with the vicious frenzy that had taken over his entire body; "You have unusual powers, young Padawan," he growled menacingly, opting to ignore his wound for the time being and resume combat; he took the hilt of his sabre firmly by two hands, and paced toward the Padawan undauntedly, "But not enough to save you this time," he fearlessly added, with an unmistakable note of finality.
Anakin lowered his blue lightsabre, fully prepared to annihilate the former Jedi, "Don't bet on it!" he scoffed.
From his lame position on the floor, Kenobi managed to conjure up just enough energy to draw his lightsabre back to his hand. Then, turning to where his Padawan stood, he cried, "Anakin!" and hurled the hilt over to him.
Catching the weapon in his free hand, Anakin activated this second blade, and stood en garde with two lightsabres – one green, one blue – before launching into a horrific assault, spinning, slashing and thrusting repeated blows toward the Count with a wild and uncontrollable vehemence. But Dooku proved his worth, showing the boy why he had such a strong reputation as a duellist, and effortlessly parried and averted everything thrown at him, fuelled with an extra vigilance of his own from the rage his wound had incited.
Anakin glowered in disbelief as he was suddenly driven further and further back into a corner of the room, unable to keep up with the smooth and elegant attacks instigated by the Count.
Dooku forced young Anakin to drop the green lightsabre hilt when he successfully made a sharp thrust toward it and cleaved its head clear off, rendering it completely ineffective; he had come from behind with one weapon to reduce the boy to just one now, too. This further frustrated the wild Padawan, and he tried to take control of the situation by drawing the Count further back into the dark alcove of the room, into which Dooku had already forced him, hoping to turn things to his advantage.
Skywalker spotted a flexible pipeline that was left slung across the floor, near a pillar that was in a close proximity to them, and spun over it, severing it with his blade; with a fizzle, the dim lights that had faintly illuminated the gloomy corner diminished into darkness, leaving the Count and Anakin stood facing one another in the shadows, their blades alone illuminating each of them with an eerie blue and red glow.
Obi sighed as the pain seemed only to intensify from his wounds, but angled his head up so that he could watch Anakin fight, fearing for his Padawan's life. Padmé still could only just watch, lightsabre combat meaning nothing but death and destruction to her; she hadn't forgotten that Qui-Gon had been lost due to such conflict, and she hoped that her two Jedi friends wouldn't go the same way.
Dooku and Anakin stood still, sabres held high over their heads as they prepared to go into another stage of the onslaught. Skywalker's face shone dimly with blue light, whilst Dooku's was splashed with a blood-red glow. There was a long pause; the severed pipeline sparked and spluttered with stray electricity in the silence, adding a literal electrical friction to the atmosphere.
Suddenly, Anakin made his move, his sabre swinging down toward the Count – and, in the blink of an eye, Dooku followed, moving his sabre to intercept the Padawan's. Their sabres clashed, drew apart, spun about, and clashed again. They reeled about, turning back to face one-another before, once more, their blades locked. Blue merged with red as the glow of their sabres flashed across their faces; their eyes were focused, their thoughts fixed solely on the battle, each knowing that any missteps or erroneous moves would cost them their lives.
Dooku drove Anakin back toward a slim corner between the near pillar and the rock face. Sensing a wall behind him (and therefore a trap), Anakin threw the Count off of him with a firm joust of his sabre, before turning, rushing up the wall, and flipping back over Dooku's head. Dooku wheeled about, swinging his sabre around, anticipating such a move, but was caught off guard once again; "ARGH!" he cried sharply as the Padawan's blade thrust across his torso. Luckily, the lightsabre was too distant to cause too much damage, but the tip had been close enough to sear through his shirt and graze his chest. He bolted back a little, hissing at his own ineptitude, and glanced down at the seared line of broken flesh on his breast; every breath he took now causing him some agony due to the location of the abrasion.
Now he was foully angry; the Count tore his cloak from about his neck, feeling hindered by it, and flung himself toward the boy, pinning Anakin's blue sabre down toward the floor before he swung an out-of-character kick into the side of the young Jedi's head. Skywalker yelled as the Count's boot knocked against his jaw, and he fell off balance onto the ground. Shaking his head, Anakin rapidly flipped back onto his feet, knowing that he couldn't leave himself open for a second. His impulsiveness quickly compensated itself, as he was up just in time to parry a cut aimed to chop his arm clear off.
Dooku reversed from this failed assault with an inconceivable speed, totally belying his age, and, in his subsequent attack, managed to just scrape the Padawan's arm with his sabre; "Argh!" Anakin cried, briefly buckling to his knees as he was burnt across his thigh. He urged himself on hurriedly, again given just enough time to stumble back onto his feet before Dooku's vicious blade had chance to sever his leg.
In the end, it was no contest; the Count's blade swerved and flashed before Anakin's eyes, dazing him, and soon the boy could simply not keep the fight up any longer; and, in one final tremendous sweep, Dooku lopped off Anakin's arm at the elbow, sending the severed limb flying across the floor, lightsabre still in hand!
"ARGHH!" the boy yelled, his voice echoing off of the walls excruciatingly, the pain of the dreadful wound intolerable.
Padmé inhaled in shock, watching, completely powerless, as the man that she loved was ruthlessly defeated by the vicious Separatist; "Ani!" she cried tearfully, still set to the spot by the Count's will.
Before Anakin even had time to plummet to the floor, the Count raised his hand, and sent him soaring back into his master's lame form with a vigorous thrust of the Force. Obi-Wan grunted as his apprentice's body landed on his leg, the boy now completely unconsciousness, overtaken by pain and general exhaustion.
Dooku exhaled several times, his passionate fury subsiding as reality slowly began to come back to him. He deactivated his sabre, hooking it back onto his belt, and then cringed as he felt his chest wound throb; he put a jaded hand to it, running his fingers along the perforation, and gritted his teeth in response to the pain that that incurred; it was a nasty wound, though not fatal. Padmé looked at him in horror, stunned and terrified by the display that he had given – she couldn't quite read the expression on his face now, though; she expected a victorious look, but his visage seemed bland and uncertain. She didn't have time to further consider this, however, as the events again took an unexpected turn…
Dooku swallowed heavily, clearly drained from his overly violent battle, but had no time to recover; his senses alerted him to some presence approaching behind, and he slowly turned around, looking about sternly as a long shadow crept around the hangar entranceway. The tapping of a cane could be heard resounding against the floor, accompanied by little grunts of effort – it was clear to the Count who his next visitor was:
"Master Yoda," he nodded in a brusque greeting as the small Jedi Master appeared from around the corner.
There was a short silence as Yoda drew himself up, placing his walking stick before him steadily, "Count Dooku," he returned, equally unyielding.
"You have interfered with our affairs for the last time," Dooku said to him, going straight into business, and raising his hand to the wall, pulling a metallic appendage loose via the power of the Force, before then hurling it toward Yoda. The diminutive Jedi dropped his cane, collecting his own Force energies, and raised his hands above his head, managing to halt the appendage's descent with his own superb powers, before throwing it aside. It clattered to the floor futilely, and the two combatants stared gravely at one another.
The Count then rapidly whipped his hand up again, commanding another metallic implement to come loose from the wall – he tossed this one toward Yoda with an increased vigour, concentrating all of his strengths into his Force-powered assaults. Again, the small Jedi merely caught the object in his invincible hold, and flung it aside into another wall. He growled at Dooku, holding his arms out in a defensive stance, staring deeply into the lofty warrior's eyes.
The Count's lip twitched, and he raised both of his arms up above his head, conjuring up enough power to pull large shards of rock loose from the ceiling above. The room filed with the thunderous cracking of the sandstone roof as it was torn apart by Dooku; holding several large pieces of the ceiling in midair, the Count then thrust his arms downwards, sending the fragments flying down on top of Yoda. The little Jedi heaved a great sigh as he drew together an almighty amount of his own energy, and managed to halt the rocks in their descent, suspending them above his head for a few seconds, before casting them aside with an almighty groan of effort.
He exhaled once more as he beheld the former Jedi Master in his eyes, "Powerful you have become, Dooku," he said quietly, "The Dark side I sense in you…"
"I've become more powerful than any Jedi," the Count shot back, bringing his hand up before him again, fingers pointing out toward Yoda, "Even you." Force Lightning shot from his fingertips as he completed his sentence with a sinister tone, and hurtled across the chamber toward Yoda. Yoda, however, was an exceptionally skilled Jedi Master, and using all of his expertise, he caught the lightning in his small hands, collecting the vicious, raw energy into a ball, before flinging it back at Dooku. If the Count was surprised, he didn't show it – he knew Yoda too well to not expect some kind of incredible comeback assault; he held his hand, palm outward, and deflected the returning lightning off into a wall. It clashed against the rock face with a horrific smash, sending shards of sandstone clattering to the floor.
Padmé swallowed, drawing back across the room, trying to get as far away from the conflict as possible; the area around her had quickly fallen into disarray, with the walls and the metallic instruments within the chamber considerably damaged. The electric pipeline that Anakin had severed earlier was still spluttering in the dim corner, and slight sparks were now flying from the spots where Dooku had wrenched implements from the walls.
Frowning in discontent, Dooku decided to give his offensive another go, and hurled another bout of electricity at the Jedi Master, amplifying its power. But, once again, it failed to get past Yoda's strong defences, and his efforts amounted to nothing but a Sith Lightning to-and-fro game. Ceasing his assaults, Dooku glared harshly at the little Jedi, inhaling heavily to replenish his hungry lungs and waning energy stores.
"Much to learn, you still have," Yoda said dryly, his tiny mouth curling up into a slight smile toward the Separatist leader.
Dooku felt himself weakening, his injuries taking their toll, and his energy stores – mainly consumed by the taxing Sith Lightning assaults – diminishing rapidly. He also had a sense of urgency to get away; carrying the plans for the 'ultimate weapon', he knew he couldn't afford to persist with this game much longer. Soon, reinforcements of Republic troops would arrive, and he'd be caught, the precious plans seized from him and the Confederacy ruined. And that would mean only trouble. He couldn't just walk out on this duel, though – he was no coward, and wanted to finish things properly.
However, he knew that time was not going to allow for that…
"It is clear that this contest cannot be decided by our knowledge of the Force," he glowered toward Yoda, a faint expression of amusement upon his visage; the sound of an activated laser sword ruptured into the air as Dooku took his sabre hilt back into his hand, red blade again at the ready, and prepared for his third swordfight of the day; "But by our skills with a lightsabre," he continued, completing his sentence. He swung the blade up before his head in a salute toward Master Yoda, showing that he still held some honour within him, and then thrust it down by his side, prepared to attack.
In turn, Yoda drew open his cloak, and pulled his own small lightsabre hilt into his hand with the Force, activating a smaller, yet no less lethal, green blade.
Seeing that Yoda was game, Dooku took a deep breath, drawing on all of his strengths, before taking a couple of steps forward and leaping into the air, somersaulting high overhead in a stunt that would have been regarded as incredible for anyone to perform, never mind an elderly man. Yoda, in turn, launched himself forward with a cry wrought from the depths of his lungs, careering into action against the Count.
Dooku came gracefully into land, before he locked sabres with the Jedi Order's greatest, his blade crashing down onto Yoda's with a brutal might. Yoda parried the blow, and reversed, and from then the two spun into a fast and frightening battle.
Padmé could hardly believe her eyes – a tiny Jedi, little over two feet tall, fighting with a man beyond six feet in height! She could only see a green blur where Yoda was, his sabre spinning and whirring about speedily as the little Jedi jumped, flipped and bounded in all directions; words could not describe the extraordinariness of Yoda's performance! His size made him a difficult opponent for the Count due to his loftiness, but Dooku still managed to prove his skill, deflecting every blow Yoda rained down upon him efficiently and smoothly with an elegant finesse. Their sabres spun, clashed, swerved about, and clashed again; their feet stepped to the side, twirled about, then moved once more – it was an awe-inspiring display of the best in Jedi swordsmanship!
Yoda, however, soon had the Count taking retreating steps; although the aged male managed to parry Yoda's every assault, he was fast weakening, his two former battles having drained a substantial amount of his vitality. This flagging became evident when Yoda, knocking the Count's blade aside with a firm shove and leaving him momentarily open, sent Dooku back into his own ship with a brutal Force push! The Count cried out sharply as his back clashed harshly against the metal hull of his vessel, his already sore chest wound tearing further. He then dropped down onto the floor, briefly stunned, feeling a droplet of blood seep from the gash on his torso; he was sure that his back would be significantly bruised now, adding to his day's injuries.
Padmé gasped, taking cover behind the ramp of the craft – one didn't expect to witness Yoda, a most revered Jedi Master, in such a brutal battle. But sometimes there was no alternative but to fight. She glanced to Anakin and Kenobi fleetingly; she was desperate to go over to them, but, in spite of everything, was still unable to get herself to.
Yoda stepped toward Dooku slowly, "Fought well, you have, my old Padawan," he said firmly, his face tinged with the green glow that his sabre emanated. He looked hard at the Count, memories of times past returning to his mind, times of when the Count was but a boy – a reckless Padawan, but a highly skilled and popular one, nonetheless – and the final Jedi he had trained to Knighthood. It was devastating that this was where he found his ultimate Padawan now.
Dooku glared up to his Master of old bitterly, his eyes intense, swallowing hard. His lip twitched once more in resentment, and he quickly swung his sabre up before him in a final, and wasted attempt at knocking Yoda aside. He was almost level with the Jedi Master now that he was sprawled upon the floor – but the diminutive Jedi caught the Count's incoming blade against his own, and locked it down toward the floor. Their blades crackled with friction, and Dooku knew that, even though he could force himself on, now was a good time to retreat.
"The battle is far from over," he hissed menacingly at Yoda, "This is just the beginning!"
Quickly, he opened his free hand to his side, and drew the sabre hilt from Anakin's lost limb into his grasp. Yoda was caught a little off guard as Dooku leapt to his feet, and, activating the extra sabre, hurled the blue blade toward the foot of a metallic pillar, near Obi-Wan and Anakin. The blue sabre spun like a deadly discus over to the pillar, perfectly aimed, and sliced through the column's base; with a spark of electricity, the column came loose, and began to tilt down toward the two lame Jedi.
As Dooku had expected, Yoda's nobility forced him to abandon his assault and go to his fellow Jedis' aid; putting his green sabre back to his belt, Yoda called upon the power of the Force to seize the tumbling pillar, and stop it from falling onto the two Jedi.
In the meantime, Dooku rushed round to the back of his ship, returning his curved sword hilt to his belt, and grasped Padmé by the arm, shoving her up the ramp, "Get on board!" he ordered her tersely. Padmé looked to Anakin and Kenobi in terror, unable to get herself to walk up that ramp, desperate to know that they'd be all right, "But –" she cried, stopping in her tracks. The Count gave her a firm shove; "Get on board!!" he yelled angrily, managing to drive her into the craft. A sharp pain panged across his chest as he moved too vigorously; he hissed again, clutching his bleeding torso, but continued to force Padmé on. Once he had her inside, he shoved her into the passenger seat of his vessel, and slammed himself down into the pilot's seat, starting the craft's engines, and bringing up the rear ramp – his injuries could wait; for now, he just had to get away.
Meanwhile, Obi-Wan, still conscious, looked up at the heavy column as it came hurtling down on top of him; he felt that this surely must be the end; his life had been on-and-off the line too many times this day, and he wasn't confident that his luck would hold out much longer. Yoda, however, concentrated exceptionally hard, commanding the great powers of the Force to hold the pillar in midair; his face tightened in the utmost concentration, the little Jedi using all of his strengths to save his two fellow Jedi from destruction. And Yoda's attempts paid off as, suddenly, the colossal pillar halted in its path, creaking under the strain of the invisible powers that cradled it. Obi glanced to Yoda, watching the Jedi Master's lips tighten as he, with a final thrust of strength, managed to fling the column aside; it came crashing down onto the floor, beyond Kenobi and Anakin, just as the engines of Dooku's craft – an elegant Solar Sailor – hissed into action; Yoda turned to watch as the vessel, carrying the Count and the Senator, shot off up its escape hatch, and burst into the Geonosian skies, leaving the chaos of the hanger battle behind it…
TBC…
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NB: Thanks to Showcase.netins.net for their AotC script – yes, it was outdated, but it was helpful for including things dropped from the film!