Author's Notes: I had one of those nights Saturday night where ideas kept rushing into my head for this fanfic. As cool as that was, it meant that I didn't get myself to bed (without jumping out again to write a few notes) until gone midnight! Urgh… I woke up at ten Sunday morning, which is highly unusual for me. I felt lazy, so I made myself go for a fifty minute walk into the nearby housing estate. Exercise is good.
And is anyone else getting a bit scared that we're on Part 31?!
Kynstar: You're right about Palpy - I think Ani realises that, too, in this chapter.
Infamous One: Thanks. It's really hard writing as Padmé sometimes because I like Dooku too much, as well. I have to try and imagine him as someone I truly hate or I can't write the story 'properly'. ;) Heh.
Audreidi: Thanks for your help again. And I had to change Palpy's name because of a clash with another char, so sorry about that. My mistake.
Leela74: I certainly do feel honoured. I'm guessing you like your SW universe warped. Heh. ;)
Silverwolf47: I really like Palpatine, actually. Seriously, I do - I think he's one of the most stunning characters of the saga and I love writing as him. Thank you for your kind comments!
PadawanMage: Here's your update! And don't look in Shakespeare for the Charles II/Henry VIII thingys. It's history I looked at (Besides that, Charles the Second came after Shakespeare.). I love history a little too much. Till your next essay...er...review! ;)
-----
Eclipse
Part 31
Things came back to Serenn as he stepped off the plate. Reality was one of them. He sighed as he moved away, and rubbed his temples, whilst he felt Padm's gaze heavy upon him all the time.
"I bet you enjoyed that," she whispered bitterly.
He gave her a momentary glance, "Not really."
She looked unconvinced; "He'll be condemned to death, won't he?"
"I very much doubt it," he replied, walking forcefully out the room, feeling the sudden need for an open space and fresh air; all the time, Padmé tailed him like the lap dog she'd claimed not to be.
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because I know. Please be content with that."
"I need to know what happens to him - you've got to find out."
"Then call your friend 'Binks' in the senate - I'm sure he'll keep you informed."
She didn't know why, but Padmé suddenly felt that something was amiss; "What's going on?" she said.
Dooku flung open a door and walked out onto the veranda beyond, somewhere within the centre of the palace's domed structures. He arched his head back and took in the air, placing his hands on his hips and sighing deeply.
Padmé frowned uncertainly; "What's the matter?"
He heaved another sigh, continuing to look at the skies; "Nothing," he muttered, "I just need some air."
She rounded to his side; "You look terrible," she said, though in the manner of someone studying an old carpet rather than a person.
"Why, thank you, my dear."
"You do."
"I suppose one might say I feel a little… 'off-colour'." He began to walk away, "I will ponder on our situation…"
" 'Our'?"
"The Confederacy, my dear."
"Oh… of course."
"And will decide on the next, best course of action for us to take from there. Until then, I advise that you spend your time wisely."
She watched him as he strode further and further away, until he descended a flight of steps and was gone.
---
Obi-Wan watched Ki-Adi Mundi enter the Jedi Council chamber and gave a nod of greeting. He could tell before Ki-Adi even opened his mouth that the Jedi Knight didn't bring fair tidings; "What happened?" he asked anyway.
Mundi sighed, holding out his hands in defeat, "The Republic is poisoned against us. I can say no more…"
"They've been losing faith in us for years, now," Obi shrugged, "Even when I was a Padawan it was notable."
"But not like this, Obi-Wan," the Cerean insisted, moving across the room toward him, "Not like this."
Obi exhaled deeply, "Tell me about Anakin."
Ki-Adi gave Kenobi a thoughtful glance; "Why weren't you there, Obi-Wan? You could have then seen for yourself."
Obi gave Ki-Adi a passing glance, then walked away to the other side of the chamber, "I couldn't bare it," he whispered, clasping his hands beneath the heavy folds of his robes, "I just couldn't make myself go."
Ki-Adi nodded, realising that it could not be an easy time for Kenobi, and went on to answer his question; "I shall not lie to you. Your Padawan will be condemned. It's all too obvious. Even the Chancellor just shrugged it off."
Obi's brow contracted a fraction before relaxing again; "What'll happen to him?"
"Expulsion, at the least," Mundi speculated, "But they could push it as far as death."
"Only the Confederacy would want to put him to death."
"I know - but this isn't about the war, is it?"
Obi accepted defeat, "I guess not."
Mundi made his way over to Kenobi, again, and placed a hand on his shoulder, "Mace tried his best, Obi-Wan… he really tried."
Kenobi shrugged him off, "I know he did. But it doesn't matter any more. It's over."
---
Padmé hadn't thought twice about going to see her family again in the unexpected 'spare time' the Count had allotted to her. Racing into the suburbs via taxi, she planned to treasure every moment that she could gather with them for, all too soon, she knew she'd have to leave the beautiful city of Theed once more and go back to playing fugitive, on the run from the Republic, with this eccentric former Jedi and his bizarre clan of corporate misfits.
"I'm not sure what's going on," she said as she sat in the lounge of her parent's home, running a finger round the edge of her cup, "But something's not right. I can tell that much."
Sola took a sip from her own cup, sat in the comfy chair opposite. Ruwee and Jobal were on the sofa, whilst both Ryoo and Pooja were out playing with their neighbours.
"Is he keeping something from you? This 'Dooku'?" Sola queried.
Padmé nodded, "I'm positive he is - I just can't think what."
"Do you have to leave again?" Ruwee asked, trying to get more to the point.
"I don't know, dad," Padmé sighed, "But I can't imagine I'll be able to stay long. Count Dooku is speaking to the rest of the Confederacy sometime soon, or at least deciding what to do with them, and it looks like he's having Nute Gunray take over here."
"Gunray? Again?" Sola spat angrily, "Not that prat… Why can't he let you take over here instead, Padmé?"
Padmé blinked: 'Stupid girl', she thought, 'Why didn't you think of that?'
"You know, Sola," she replied, "I never thought of it like that."
"Well, ask him! Or, if you don't, I will!"
Padmé almost rolled her eyes, "He's not easily swayed."
"What excuse does he have, though? It'd be better for him and his blasted movement!"
"If you can sway him, then be my guest."
Sola had that determined, Naberrie look in her eyes; "Oh, trust me, I will."
"You can tell that you wear the trousers in your family," Padmé added and they all laughed.
"It would be nice to have you closer to home," Jobal concurred after a while, "We see too little of you these days."
"Yes, and we'd be able to feed you properly," Ruwee added, throwing his hand at her, "Look at you, still so pale and thin."
Padmé smirked, "Well, it sounds very enticing."
"Why don't we come back with to the Palace?" Sola asked, "Then I can talk to this 'Dooku'. What's his first name, again?"
"Serenn."
" 'Serenn'?" Sola shrugged, "Okay, I'll sway 'Serenn'. You watch me."
Padmé shook her head, "Oh, I will. It should be interesting."
"And how's Anakin doing?" Ruwee pondered, "Heard he was on trial…?"
Padmé sighed again, "It doesn't look good, as far as I can tell…"
Jobal exchanged glances with her husband and daughter, before then asking that which was hanging on the edge of everyone's tongue's, "And is he guilty, Padmé?"
She felt uneasy and had to look down, away from them; "Well… yes, I… I guess he is…"
The other three seemed taken aback; "But he was so nice when we met him," Jobal continued.
"He just made a mistake, mum," Padmé whispered, trying to find some way she could inject some defence for Anakin into this; but she couldn't.
"They won't -?" Ruwee ventured, his face gesturing the final words of the sentence.
Padmé felt a lump in her throat - her father was voicing her very fears now, that they would put Anakin to death. Part of her kept reassuring her that this would never happen, as Serenn had speculated, yet an uncertainty was also present there that niggled at her confidence and caused her to fret for the misguided Padawan.
She shook her head and placed her empty cup down on the small table before her; "I don't know, dad," she whispered, her voice caught in the fearful knot blocking her throat. She felt herself grow tearful as her father came across and embraced her lovingly; "I just don't know," she again sobbed.
---
Betrayed. Right, left and centre, he was betrayed.
How could he? How could Palpatine, of all people, do this to him? Why had the Chancellor made him privy to so much - told him that he was the Sith Master, promised him Padmé back - only to abandon him in favour of that aristocratic bastard?
Anakin growled as he wallowed in self-pity, watching the court sentinel pace back and forth before the enclosure of his cell, his eyes following the figure like those of a tiger watching its potential prey from behind the bars of its cage. He hated that pacing sentinel - not for any particular reason, but he had little else to focus his inner rage on at the current time. But, as is often the case, like a steaming brew, his anger cooled and abated during the ensuing minutes; Anakin was soon bored of being angry, and this boredom allowed him to take a much needed and long overdue backseat to his thoughts.
And it then finally all clicked.
Anakin blinked: Of course! How could he? Palpatine couldn't technically let him down now - after all the effort the Chancellor had put into connecting with him, and after all the careful timing and blatant manipulation he had utilised in his strategy, he just couldn't afford to throw it all aside, not now, it'd make no sense! Palpatine wouldn't do all this for nothing.
For the first in a long time, Anakin smiled; when he actually allowed his mind to run things over, when he allowed the ire to cool and looked at the facts at hand, he could be intelligent. And now he saw that it was he who had been the fool; the Chancellor couldn't do it to him, and he wouldn't. It wasn't logical. Finally, it all made sense now - it had always been play, a colossal game, and this was a continued progression in the overall match.
The marching sentinel began to get a little nervous as he noticed that the tiger in the cage was now sitting back and smiling at him.
----
Palpatine's eyes shot open and he smirked.
There was a rumble of thunder in the distance. It's timing was perfect.
Turning away from the window as the sky cast over, readying for the storm, the Supreme Chancellor began to pace away into the shadows. He could feel it through the Force - the boy had got it. Finally, he had made sense of his strategy.
Things were progressing, Palpatine admitted, a little faster than his schedule would allow. As he retreated into the antechamber beyond his apartments, then into a rather unremarkable side room, he pulled the black cowl over his head and became the creature beneath the skin, his true face and persona - he became Lord Sidious.
He now had a dilemma. Yes, the Jedi were rapidly becoming frowned upon and their hour was indeed growing late, but things couldn't be allowed to go too fast - if one stage of his plan became disjointed with another, the whole thing would fall apart. He could not allow that to happen. He never had. Everything that had happened up until now was consequence of his own brilliant skill and plotting, every pawn and piece on the board was his and his alone to move and manipulate to his will. He would never have it any other way. Slowly, he could see, this was dawning on Count Dooku just as it was dawning on Anakin, but both to adverse effect.
He smiled, staring hypothetically at his board and his two most vital pawns of the moment - Dooku and Skywalker. Both bold, both daring, both arrogant when they wished, both proud, both skilled, both intelligent. They were the two pieces revolving around but one thing, the instrument of both Dooku's demise and Skywalker's rise: Padmé Amidala.
Sidious rubbed his hands together, the hands of the proficient puppeteer. Oh, what a pretty little device that girl had turned out to be! So useful in so many situations, both as a young queen and a grown politician. Oh, definitely when grown… Who would have thought that so much would revolve around this daring woman? His rise to power alone had depended on her gullibility, his first protég's fate had come from an expedition at her expense, and his second apprentice's downfall would be for her, whilst Anakin's rise to his side would equally rely on her devotion to him. Or more likely the Chosen One's devotion to her.
Sidious rubbed his chin as he turned toward the room's far wall, feeling the faint edges of his stubble begin to rise up from beneath; Padmé puzzled him, he had to admit. Tyranus had indeed used and abused her just as he had intended, and then some - he was impressed by the fortitude of the man - but Padmé seemed to have a very strange, warped way of reacting. He couldn't judge for certain, seeing as he wasn't there to observe her at every waking moment, but, from what he could sense from his apprentice, and what little he could even pick up from Padmé, it seemed that she wasn't quite as disturbed by it all as he would have expected. She was upset, yes, but she wasn't in the depths of despair. She had found something to live for, in the outward guise of her cause to overthrow corruption in the senate, but also, he theorised, in something much more personal. He wasn't sure he could put his finger on this yet, but she intrigued him.
Her use was shortly to expire, though. Once Anakin took out his vengeance on her, Sidious was certain that he would not be able to find it in his heart to keep her much longer. She would be thrown on the scrap heap with Dooku and the entire Jedi corps.
He chuckled mildly as he paced forward within the small, darkened chamber. His cloak billowed over the scarlet carpet in his wake as he stepped onto a holo'-projector plate, and waited.
---
Dooku was the one looking surly this time round as he watched a small-scale hologram of Darth Sidious appear before him.
"In the mood for some argumentative rallying, were we?" was the first thing the Sith Master said.
Serenn shrugged lazily, sprawled back in a chair within his Nubian apartment, knowing immediately that they were back to talking about the courtroom drama; "It had to appear believable, didn't it?"
"My boy, you made it a soap opera."
"Capital. Then they would be doubly likely to lap it up."
Sidious was silent for a moment. Serenn hated it when he did that.
"Things are moving. Fast."
"Really?"
The Sith Master caught the sarcasm; "Silence."
Dooku's gaze tightened on Sidious for a second before he let the anger pass.
"We cannot allow things to continue so swiftly."
"We cannot?"
"No… it is too risky. Timing is everything."
"So what would you have me do? Procrastinate here for a while?"
"I'm sure you'd enjoy yourself."
Serenn wanted to tell the Sith Master to be silent this time round, but he dare not try his luck again. He contented himself with another slight knot of his brow, before he, too, let that elapse.
"No, procrastination doesn't suit you," Sidious finally said, "Just… pace yourself. Make your next conquest a… difficult one."
"Difficult?"
"Yes. Take your pick."
Serenn looked around his apartment, trying to pick a planet out of all that he could think of to mark as his next port of call.
His eyes finally settled back on the shaky, blue hologram of the Sith Lord; "Alderaan?"
Another silence.
"Well, you do aim high. One of the most staunch of Republican systems…?"
Serenn glared harshly at Sidious, "You said to make my next target a lengthy task. I have selected one to best suit your wishes, my Master. Bail Antilles will not be easily swayed, yet there is something within him that I can work on - his hatred of the war, his ill feeling toward the clones - I have a foundation."
"But as an equal antagonist to the Republic, what other can you offer him but more warfare?"
Again, the Count merely shrugged; "We will see…"
Sidious seemed indifferent, either way; "As you wish." And with that, he was gone.
Serenn stared at the void for a while, trying to work out what was going on in Sidious' head. He couldn't think like the Sith Master, who seemed to have little coherence to his thoughts, yet so much cleverness and control. The fact was he himself knew that he had fallen too deep in Palpatine's plots somewhere along the line, and it was going to be one Hell of a job to get out of them again. He had never liked being subordinate to another, though it was bearable, but now… now he simply didn't have any control whatsoever.
The stupid thing was that he'd known all along that this would happen, yet he'd let himself fall anyway, and hadn't let anyone catch him. Now nobody was left back up above to offer him the ladder, to give him their hand, to usher him to climb back up.
At least, he didn't think that there was…
He shook his head, got up and left.
----
Passel Argente itched his nose. This offended Boba. Argente knew it did, and proceeded to do it again. Boba glared. Argente smirked.
It was like the desert island scenario, where everyone, living in such close confines, grew so sick of each other that the very presence of everyone else around them offended them to high heaven. Having Argente and young Fett sat opposite ends of a table, staring one another out, wasn't exactly a good idea when terms were currently so bad. They were both tempting fate. And they liked it.
Argente's purple-skinned aide was getting a bit nervous as he stood in close proximity to the two, an innocent bystander on the sidelines, twiddling his thumbs - there was something unsettling about the clone child, and he didn't want to set the timer off on the bomb; he had no doubt that this child would explode, given half the chance, and he had been trying his hardest to communicate this to Passel for the past half hour, but Passel either didn't understand or chose not to.
Purple whined quietly. The moment was getting ever thinner, as though someone were holding their breath and waiting to release it.
Then, finally… a console bleeped.
Purple jumped out of his skin, whilst both Boba and Passel merely turned their heads about, mildly intrigued. Eventually, the magistrate rose to his feet and made his leisurely way across the floor until he reached the buzzing unit. Boba just sighed, leaning his head upon his hand.
"Passel Argente, CIS outpost at Ord Mantell," the magistrate snarled.
Ah, finally, we've reached you!
Argente felt his lips peel back in disdain; "Viceroy…" he greeted the Neimoidian, "What news do you bring?"
At least he and the magistrate concurred on one thing, Boba thought, as he heard Nute Gunray's warbling tone invade their space - the Neimoidian Viceroy wasn't worth their salt. He wasn't worth anything.
I bring word from Count Dooku.
"Can he no longer communicate himself?"
Nute paused at this - he was a coward, but he hadn't got to where he was in life by being completely stupid; Of course he can, you fool, how do you think he got this message to me? He is busy and cannot report to all his subsidiaries himself. He does not have the time for you.
Boba grimaced - he wished he could have a good go at both of them, magistrate and viceroy, but hearing them jibe at each other was a fair enough substitute.
"Get on with it, Nute."
Gunray paused, heaving a great breath, The strategy has changed.
"Again?"
Will you let me finish?
Argente pouted. Boba had to stifle a giggle. He saw Purple give him a sour glance, but a quick returning glare in his direction soon sent him quailing.
The Count has decided that divide and conquer may actually be the best way of moving things along, especially now that we have Poggle's reinforcements on the way. Take all that you can, Outer and Mid Rim. He will tackle the more Core Worlds himself.
"And with whose army does he plan to do this?" Argente queried.
Well, obviously not yours, Magistrate, Nute replied, as though he found the notion hilarious, He has better ones than that at his disposal.
"You arrogant maggot, our armies come from the same damn place!"
Boba could imagine Nute pouting at this. Savouring that thought, he folded his arms behind his head and placed his feet up on the tabletop.
Just do it, Passel! Gunray glowered with a refined air of finality. Then there was a gentle 'click' and the connection was cut.
Argente would have slammed the phone down, had it been that form of communication. Instead, he merely contented himself with clenched fists and a roll off of all his favourite, native swear words. Some of them were quite inventive - Boba took some mental notes for future reference.
---
It was a warm day the next morning in Theed. The entire Naberrie clan had indeed accompanied Padmé back to the palace, where she would hear what Dooku had to say about the next move of the Confederacy. And Sola continued to claim that she would, in turn, have words with Dooku about the position of her sister. Padmé was still sceptical on this.
A couple of nearby Battle Droids watched on with a little confusion as Pooja and Ryoo paddled in one of the fountains in the courtyard, holding their little dresses above their knees and trotting through the water, making little splashes and giggling hysterically. Padmé sat on the edge and watched them, whilst Sola stood by her side and their parents looked on.
"I half wish we had grown up in Theed," Padmé said aside to her sister, "Think how wonderful it would have been, playing in the fountains and seeing those waterfalls every day."
"True," Sola agreed, "But we had a good time back in the country, didn't we?"
"Oh yeah," Padmé agreed, "A wonderful time."
Back from a window in the palace, Serenn spied out the Naberrie clan and stood there, stark still, watching them; after an uneasy night and a continuing bad feeling toward Darth Sidious' grand design, he could now add a feeling of sheer envy to the list; the one thing he had never had was a family. It was one of those things that made him bitter toward the Jedi Order - just the very thought of being torn from your mother's arms when you were but an infant, to be trained in some religious corps as a warrior and to become as poor as a peasant for the rest of your life, without choice on your behalf or, worse, on your parent's, hurt him to the core. He had often wondered how different things would have been had he remained at his father's mansion and grown to be his heir and successor. He was certain he would never have done as much as he now had, but the past and all those futures that had never happened were not to be dwelled upon; it wasn't healthy.
Shaking these thoughts from his mind as best he could, he swept down the corridor and out down the steps into the courtyard. Swiftly and unabashedly, he made his way across the terrace and stopped a little behind the happy scene.
"Greetings, my lady," he said, making them all jump and wheel about (except Ryoo and Pooja, who gave him a mildly curious glance before continuing with their play).
Padmé looked in half a mind to snap at him, though was wary of her parents' presence, and merely allowed herself a quick scowl before she said, "Count Dooku… this is my family." She got up from the wall around the fountain and gestured to each one in turn, "My sister, Sola" (she gave the Count a curt nod, and he returned an all-too-poite bow) "my mum and dad, Jobal and Ruwee" (their nods were rigid, as though they mistrusted the man greatly. Again, he was too courteous in his response) "and Ryoo and Pooja, my two nieces," she finished, her arm taking in the two paddling infants.
The girls both halted and looked nervously at the tall, old man, caught completely off-guard; Dooku gave them a warm smile and bowed low to them, "Charmed," he said.
They both giggled, and got a word in before their mother could; "Are you a Jedi?" Ryoo asked, spying out the shiny lightsabre hung at his hip as she waded to the edge of the fountain.
Serenn seemed to hesitate a little at this, and settled with, "I was a Jedi, but I left them, a long time ago."
"Oh…" Ryoo sighed, clearly disappointed.
"We love Jedi," Pooja piped up, coming up by her sister's side.
"Do you now?" Serenn returned, finding the innocent conversation almost soothing; he didn't often get to talk to children.
"Yeah! They tell the story all the time at school!"
The Count smirked; "And which story is that?"
Padmé and Sola were both mesmerised by this unexpected turn of discourse and looked between the elder man and two young girls as each one spoke, quite astounded. Jobal and Ruwee seemed to be caught equally off guard, though were endeared by their grandchildren's antics more than anything.
"The one where the two Jedi," Pooja went on, hopping out the pool of water and skipping animatedly about the ground, "Come to our planet and save us from the evil, bad Jedi!"
"He was a Syth, Pooja!"
"No he wasn't…"
"A Sith, children?" Dooku suggested quietly.
They glanced at each other, holding a silent counsel and, agreeing about this, continued, "Yeah, well, anyway, the two Jedi beat the Sith!"
"Yeah," Ryoo nodded, "And Aunty Padmé was in the story, too!"
"She's famous!"
"Real famous!"
Padmé shook her head and lightly put her hand to it, allowing herself an abashed smile.
"Now girls," Sola said in her level one warning voice.
"But Qigong -"
"Qui-Gon, Pooja! Don't you listen?"
Dooku allowed himself a gentle chuckle as they bantered amongst themselves.
Ryoo took over, "Qui-Gon and his padadadawan…"
"Padawan, silly!"
"Pooja!"
"Ryoo!"
"I trained Qui-Gon, you know," Serenn said, breaking the two apart before they'd quite got their hands on each other.
They looked awe-struck; "You did?" they chorused.
Dooku nodded, "Oh, yes. He was a fine Jedi."
"He was the bestest one," Ryoo said certainly.
"Was he?" Dooku rallied.
"But he got deaded by that devil Sith thing…" Ryoo went on.
"Killed, Ryoo!" Pooja corrected her.
"Same thing!"
"Did you know the other one?" Pooja suddenly asked, changing the subject a little.
Dooku's eyebows rose, "Other one?"
"Yeah, the… 'Padawan'."
"Obi-Wan?"
"Yeah, that's him!"
Serenn's eyes took on a slightly distant aura as he quietly replied ; "Oh yes… I know him."
"Cool!"
"All right, girls, let the old man be!" Sola said in a straight zip from using her level one tone to using her level five one.
They both whined, but acquiesced, and Jobal got out a small towel from the hamper she was carrying and began to dry their legs. Sola, meanwhile, turned on Dooku.
"Delightful children, my dear," he nodded again, courteously.
"Yes, they are," Sola nodded, but in a voice of utter no-nonsense, "I want to ask you something. My sister reckons you may be putting Nute Gunray in charge here."
Dooku gave Padmé the kind of glance that told her that he was wondering what else she'd been telling them; "Indeed," he muttered, "I may."
"Why not her?"
"Why not her?"
Sola had to back pace a little and think hard about what he meant, unable to instantly make sense of his dialogue; "That's what I'm asking you," she said, defeated.
"Perhaps you should ask her," he suggested, nodding toward Padmé. Padmé, meanwhile, looked utterly bewildered.
"But she doesn't have a choice in the matter," Sola went on.
"Doesn't she?" the Count countered.
Sola's brow furrowed; "That's the impression I get," she said.
"Well, you're wrong," Serenn once again interposed, "I sincerely recommend that you ask her why she isn't to stay here."
Sola's gaze tightened mistrustfully on him; she was being walked over in this verbal match.
She gave Padmé a brief glance and saw her shrug it off, so looked back at him; "She'd do well here. The people respect her."
"I have no doubt."
"Let her stay."
"I must confess that I have no power over her. Not any more."
Padmé felt a ring of familiarity resonate in her mind and she shared a silent stare with the Count; he was clearly asking her to play the game, but she was point-blank refusing and remaining stood on the sideline.
"We would like to see more of our daughter," Ruwee finally said, meeting Dooku's gaze for the first time, "I know you Jedi types don't have family, but -"
Serenn immediately took offence; "So you think I do not understand?" he interrupted, probably more harshly than even he'd intended, "You think that I've never had anyone to care about? Well, you are gravely mistaken, my good man. I have had people to care about - many of them - so do not think me so damned ignorant."
Ruwee looked irritated, "I didn't mean it like that."
"Then please enlighten me to your 'meaning'."
"That's enough!"
Both men turned to Padmé, who was beginning to look increasingly weary; "Look, there's no need," she continued, and both Jobal and Sola seemed to silently concur in the way that a collective of women do.
Ruwee gave in to his daughter, presuming that she did indeed know better. Serenn, however, was giving her the unreadable look.
"Then are you staying?" Sola pressed, making Padmé break the stare she forgot she was holding toward the Count.
"I…" she stuttered, caught off-guard.
"Yes, are you?" Dooku added, folding his arms in a way that somehow made Padmé feel locked out and vulnerable, "As your colleague, I'd really like to know."
She gave him a momentary scowl, thanking him for his help; "I'd like to stay…" she began, until, suddenly, she found herself again staring at the Count. They each looked straight into one another's eyes, having a wordless exchange, for quite some time. Padmé tried to read him, and tried to think clearly about what she should do next; Serenn had all but given her a free reign, yet she felt further constrained by this. Somehow, something was telling her that her destiny lay elsewhere, that she didn't belong here any more… and as much as she hated the man before her, he was now her key to restoring the galaxy to what she hoped was right. He had used her, and now, she felt, it was time for her to use him… if she only had the guts to go through with it this time.
"But I have a duty to the galaxy," she went on, finishing her words before turning back to her parents, "I would love to stay, but I just can't afford to. I… I feel that it's only right that I carry on. That I leave again."
Sola looked mildly affronted, but was more perplexed than anything; "You just said you wanted to stay," she went on, "You said it earlier, we all heard you!" Watching as her sister exchanged glances with Dooku, she suddenly felt her deep-rooted suspicion rush to the surface and she launched into a savage attack; "What's he doing to you, Padmé? It was only when you got anywhere near him that you changed your mind! What's he doing to you?"
Panic. For some reason, Padmé felt it rush through her. She took a step back from her sister, swallowing hard, feeling momentarily more threatened by her than the Count.
"Padmé, come back to us! Don't let him change you," Sola blustered on. Jobal had by now put the warning, motherly hand on Sola's shoulder, attempting to calm her down, whilst also reminding her that her two little girls were watching.
"He wouldn't hurt Aunty Padmé," Ryoo suddenly determined with her childish sense of righteousness, "He was a Jedi."
"Yeah," Pooja nodded, "Coz Jedi don't hurt anyone, do they?"
Dooku swallowed.
TBC…