Eclipse

by Jurious

AotC & RotS AU: Once apprehended on Geonosis, Padmé falls into the clutches of the villainous Count Dooku, and is taken on one of the most unexpected and frightening rides of her life. A very twisted and unconventional love story.

54. Full Circle

Author's Notes: Oh, this chapter's been hard work. I've just found it so difficult, so I hope the final result doesn't disappoint too much. And apologies for the looooooong delay. ('Get it finished before Episode III comes out,' indeed.) I gave in and allowed myself to be influenced by RotS as well - this is an AU, after all, so some parallels are good - so if you read a line in this part and think you've heard it somewhere before, you probably have. ;) And the only beta this and all of my other chapters have had is me, so expect slip-ups in spelling and grammar.

Kynstar: Here we go - the final stretch! I hope the showdown's as interesting as you hoped.

Cmdr. Gabe. E: I thought that bringing Boba back just helped with continuity, and it worked well, too. I quite like young Boba.

TheBeautifulPadmeAmidala: You changed your name! And that Hoobastank song was perfect - it never really hit me before, but you're right.

Millie:D

Padawanmage: You know what my sword-writing skills are like - pretty bad! ;) Heh. And never mind just Anakin not playing by the rules - let's go for a free-for-all :D

REV: Thanks again for your kind words. I'm hoping I can make the circle complete now with these last two chapters.

---

Part 54 - Full Circle

Boba sidled on elbows and knees down a rocky ledge, at the end of one of the long, deep Geonosian canyons, and peered down, over its precipice, into a further deep abyss beyond. Columns of steam rose steadily into the air from the bottom of the cavity, creeping out of the exhaust vents of the Empire's subterranean factories which were hidden beneath the surface.

"We're here," he said, whilst Obi-Wan and Dooku crawled up to either side of him in turn.

The two Jedi cast their eyes into the chasm, looking over the rocky-red panorama, before they then exchanged glances. "We'd better find a way in, then," Obi murmured and prepared to climb down.

"I'll help!" Boba piped up. The boy looked set to bounce onto his feet, but Dooku took a firm hold of his wrist and clamped him down; "Boba," he said softly. "We must go on alone."

Young Fett looked highly let down and tugged at the Count's grip but, finding it uncompromising, just fell slack and gave the man a sour look; "But sir…" he protested.

"But nothing!" Dooku snapped, making Obi-Wan suddenly realise what an intimidating father the man might have made, in another time and place. "You've done your bit and now you must go back. There is nothing for you here now. Find your ship and get out of here."

Boba's bright face drooped in anxiety. "But where can I go?" he murmured.

Obi almost felt sorry for the boy, despite the fact the lad had nearly once killed him. But the Count was right - there was nothing left for young Fett here.

"You will find somewhere, Boba, you're bright beyond your years," Serenn went on, hauling the boy up by his arm and gently prodding him away in the opposite direction, "You were born to be just like your father - now go out there and make him proud."

Boba stared hard into Dooku's eyes, imploring for the elder man to let him help, but he soon realised that there would be no swaying him.

"This is my last order, Boba Fett," Serenn added for good measure. "Now go."

Boba glanced at Obi-Wan and glared at him, before he then took a few steps back and looked again to the Count. "I always respected you, Lord Tyranus," he said, "and I shall never forget you. Good luck, sir."

Serenn studied the boy's face and gave him a small smile, until Boba finally turned and ran.

Obi pursed his lips and shook his head as he and the Count watched the space where young Fett had been for a while.

'/I was recruited by a man called Tyranus on one of the moons of Bogden'/

"'Tyranus'…" he muttered. "I should have known."

Dooku paused for a moment before he turned and peered back down into the abyss into which he and Obi were to descend. "Yes, you should have," he said.

"That boy will be dangerous. You can't let him go like that - and encourage him, too!"

Serenn turned on Obi-Wan and glared deep into the Jedi's blue eyes. "And would you be so arrogant as to pronounce sentence on all living creatures, Master Kenobi? Do you deem yourself worthy enough to be able to judge everyone, on whether they should be allowed to live or to die?" He took his lightsabre from his belt and proffered it to Kenobi; "Here. Take my weapon and go and kill him. Think of the lives you might save, the people you might protect."

He watched Obi hesitate and cocked an eyebrow. "No…? Can you not kill a child, Obi-Wan? Can you not destroy a born-killer, before he has even killed? Can you not?" He laughed coldly and shook his head. "If you could go back in time and strangle me in my cradle, would you? If you could have made sure that Anakin's podracer crashed all those years ago, and thus have saved us all from so much grief, would you have?"

Obi pushed the lightsabre back toward Dooku and glared viciously at the man. "Stop it," he snarled.

Serenn hung the lightsabre back upon his belt, his face immediately shedding its wickedly grim smirk, and he then just regarded Obi-Wan with cool disdain. "Good and evil are never black and white, Master Kenobi, and many of our choices are, at the same time, both right and wrong. You told me yourself that the Force has no sides but that people do, and perhaps it is the people who have the sides, but many of them have more than one side… and you cannot condemn a person when you have only seen one facet of their soul, now, can you?"

Obi-Wan, despite this fancy little speech, and the rather unnerving aura of the whole talk, deigned to look unimpressed. He shoved his way past the Count and said, "Shall we get a move on, then?"

Serenn stared into the middle distance for a moment before he just nodded to himself and did indeed turn and follow.

---

After a long and somewhat agonising climb down into the depths of the sandstone gulf, Obi and Serenn reached the bottom of the pit and swiftly went about finding a suitable exhaust vent through which to enter. Obi let the Count make the choice out of which of the vast multitude of outlets they were to enter through, and Dooku had soon made his selection, and then instantly began to cut through the thick, metal trellis that covered it with his weapon.

It turned out to be a far more difficult task than either of the Jedi predicted, to burn through that thick metal grille, and Obi soon took to sitting on a rock nearby as he waited for Serenn to complete the task. He wasn't being awkward when he failed to offer assistance, he just knew that some Jedi preferred to work alone. Master Qui-Gon was like Dooku in that respect, in that he had always liked to do many things of his own accord; in fact, Master Jinn might have still been alive today if he hadn't been so bold as to rush down that corridor of cycling, red doors alone and stubbornly refuse to wait for Obi-Wan to catch up so that he could have offered him the help he had needed. Qui-Gon had thus faced a foe that he could never have defeated, and shortly thereafter met his death…

Mulling over these recollections, Obi-Wan thus said, "Master Qui-Gon was always one for ventilation shafts."

This came out of the blue and caught Dooku off guard to such an extent that the Count could do little but give Kenobi a puzzled look in return. "Isn't it always so?" he eventually countered. "How else would one get into these places? The front door?"

Obi shrugged. "Master Yoda might try that. Word had it that Master Fisto preferred the sewers…"

"Well, he would…" Serenn scoffed as he cut through the final few metal bars of the durable trellis. It thus dropped down the passage and hit its imperceptible bottom with a loud and echoing thud.

"You see, Qui-Gon learnt from the master," the Count continued, placing his lightsabre back at his hip and looking down the black hole.

It was Obi's turn to scoff this time. "And who did you learn from?"

"The master."

"And he learned from…?"

"Another alleged master."

The two exchanged knowing glances before, one after the other, they just dropped straight down into the murky hole.

They fell for a short while, their vision completely fogged by darkness, until the floor came into sight and they prepared themselves to land; Dooku hit it in style, alighting perfectly on his feet, whilst Obi-Wan just missed the mark and stumbled onto his backside with a thud.

"Typical," Obi groused as he sat on the floor, feeling a little disgraced.

Dooku decided to ignore him, anyway, and just set his mind straight onto the task at hand. Allowing his eyes to adjust to the gloom, he scrutinised the surrounding area and discerned that they were in a broad, long pipeline, one which was filled with steam and the smell of molten metal. On top of this, it was stiflingly hot, so gave them no release from the arid atmosphere of the desert from whence they had just come.

"Oh, well this is nice," Kenobi soon remarked.

Serenn gave him a dry glance but still didn't say anything.

"You know what?" Obi went on, giving his nose a quick scratch. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

Serenn finally allowed himself a smirk. "Oh, you too?" he said.

---

A division of clone troopers walked down one of the many passageways of the underground Imperial foundry, making sure that all was well and that no unwanted guests had somehow sneaked in. As the division reached a junction in the dull, uninviting halls, the lead sentry drew them to a halt and singled out two soldiers at the rear of the group. "Wait here," he ordered the pair. "I want regular reports."

"Yes, sir," the two nodded whilst the rest of the group went on their way.

The two troopers stood completely to attention for some time, just holding their rifles in their arms and looking this way and that about the corridors, until one suddenly said, "I've heard they're promoting more troops to the Arc division."

"Really?" the second replied. "Are you going to apply?"

"No. I don't think I was made to be an Arc trooper."

It was then that there came a sudden noise from above, an echo in the large pipelines…

"What was that?" one said, his rifle suddenly held to attention and pointing at the roof above, where a ventilation shaft opened down into the passage.

The other shrugged. "It was nothing… You know what this place is like."

The other troop relaxed his guard, and eventually lowered his weapon. "Maybe you're right," he shrugged.

/Tap, tap. Swish, swish./

The two troopers' bodies abruptly flopped forwards, and their heads, severed from their necks, rolled a few feet away down the corridor until they hit the wall with a final clunk.

Dooku and Kenobi were now stood there behind the decapitated bodies, lightsabres in their hands, and they both stared down in silence at their grim handiwork. That was until Obi-Wan murmured, "I always wondered what clones talked about."

Serenn sighed and gave the bodies a slight kick, as if he were in doubt whether or not decapitation meant certain death to a clone. He then hung his weapon once again at his hip and looked about.

"We should have come through the roof," Kenobi went on, looking up to the ventilation shaft that passed conveniently overhead.

"Don't be absurd," Serenn rallied. "They would have expected that. We might get in through the ventilation shafts, but I prefer to move about in the shadows."

Obi made another shrug. "You're the boss, I guess."

"Am I?"

"Well, I can't be bothered to challenge you right now. It's exasperating."

Serenn smirked. "That is one of the biggest differences between you and I. I'm a natural-born leader, and you are a natural-born follower."

Obi felt his nose wrinkle - that sounded a bit like an insult - but he didn't pursue the matter. He just watched the Count flitter here and there, inspecting every corridor and pondering on which way to go next.

At length, Dooku just heaved a great sigh and stood still with his hands upon his hips. "Now which way?" he muttered.

Obi nodded down at the two headless bodies on the floor. "Perhaps we should have asked them for directions first." That earned him another dark look from Serenn.

The Count soon started to rummage through his robes and, finding the sought-for article at last, drew a small holo' projector from out of his pocket and gave one of its buttons a flick. A map of Geonosis - the same one from the communications room on Serenno - now appeared above the device, and Serenn zoomed in until he had a decent picture of the layout of the foundry.

"Where's the 'You are Here' arrow when you need one?" Obi-Wan jibed, warranting himself yet another weary look from the Count.

"I think we're here," Dooku conjectured after a moment, pointing at a certain passageway on the map.

"Mind you, we could be here," Kenobi countered, pointing at an identical one over the other side of the map. "Or here. Or even here."

"Master Kenobi, work with me."

Obi-Wan shrugged. "It's true, isn't it?"

The Count just stared at him. "What do you suggest we do, then?"

"Is this plain reconnaissance?"

"I haven't come half way across the galaxy for 'plain reconnaissance', Obi-Wan. This is called hit and run, with a sprinkling of vengeance."

"'Run'?"

"Yes, we're a little outnumbered."

"By clones?"

"Armed clones."

"Good point."

"I say we split up. There are two things we need to get out of this mission: the Death Star plans and destruction enough to throw the Imperial throng off-balance for some time."

"So who's doing what?"

The Count's brow arched. "Seeing as neither of us can agree on where we are, we'll both attempt to find the Death Star plans. One of us will find them, the other won't."

"What will they look like?"

"I don't know. They'll more than likely be inputted into the computer systems by now."

"So how do we retrieve them?"

"Perhaps it might be better if we just destroyed them."

Obi nodded. "But surely they would still keep a master copy, even if they have copies of the plans elsewhere."

"Yes…" the Count pondered. "But they shall be very careful about where these plans go. In enemy hands, they could be just as dangerous to them as they are now to us. The plans will not have moved outside of the foundry, I'm sure. Our objective, therefore, should be to find the master copy and to destroy the duplicates - hence the need for some destruction."

"Again, what will the plans look like?"

"If they're in the same format as when I last had them, then a small, circular device."

"Oh, well that narrows it down."

"It'll be in a safe place, Master Kenobi, and well guarded. How many circular objects get that privilege?"

"Very few, but that makes them thrice as hard to find."

Serenn sighed. "We haven't got much time. Would it be naïve of me to suggest 'using the Force'?"

Obi smirked a little. "No. In fact, I would find it quite refreshing to hear you say something like that."

Serenn smiled weakly in return and patted Obi-Wan heavily on the shoulder. "Then use the Force."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Right. Let's just do it."

"Good," the Count nodded. He flicked through his mini-factory map again and pointed to four rooms on it. "There are four main command centres in this foundry: here, here, here and here." - and he pointed to each in turn - "Those shall be our best starting places."

"If we can even find them."

Dooku ignored him. "Keep in touch via comm' link" he went on, patting his belt, "and may the Force be with you."

"You know, that sounds so much better when you say it…"

They were then both about to go, but were caught up in a strange, hypothetical net, and found themselves just stood stock-still, staring at each other, as though they felt it might be the last time.

"Take care of yourself, my boy," Dooku murmured.

Obi-Wan nodded; he still didn't particularly like the Count, but now that they were out here alone, as Jedi, and relying on one another, things felt almost right. "And you, my master," he said.

And they then finally turned and went.

---

At the foundry's hub, Darth Vader sat alone in meditation. The Force swelled and coiled about him - he could feel its very texture and its every shift and whim; it was his servant, and it flowed and worked to his command. His master, Lord Sidious, had taught him how to put the powers of the Force on a leash, and to tame them to do whatever he desired, and now, finally, they did. He was the most powerful Jedi ever.

Nay, he was more than the most powerful Jedi - he was more powerful than any Jedi, just as Sidious had once told him he would be. He was stronger than Yoda, and soon he would prove that he was mightier than his former mentor, Kenobi; once Obi-Wan was out of the picture, he would feel content.

He took in a deep breath, sat upon the floor with his legs crossed and his eyes closed in meditation; he couldn't get the image of Padmé out of his head. He could see her, weak and in pain, calling out a name… but it wasn't his. Something had happened to her, he knew it, and he would make Obi-Wan tell him the answers when they next met. He just prayed it was nothing that could not be fixed.

/'Sometimes there are things that no one can fix'/

And as if on cue, a sensation overtook him, interrupting his thoughts like a knife slicing through a canvas. He could feel something, a presence he had not felt since…

"He is here," he murmured.

"Who?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi."

The other laughed. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Do not mock me - he is here."

"You're serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

The other in the room paused, hesitating slightly. "But how did he find us?"

"Does it matter? He is here now… and I must face him."

"Why haven't the patrols reported him?"

Vader chuckled. "Your patrols are nothing in the face of the Force."

The other glared at Darth. "Maybe. But do not let him escape."

Scoffing at this, Vader began to get to his feet and finally opened his eyes, turning his intense gaze upon Wilhuff Tarkin, who was regarding him with reservation. "I must face him. I won't be long," he said, before he swiftly strode out of the room and left the Governor alone.

Tarkin rose his fingers to his bony chin and rubbed it gently as he watched Darth go; needless to say he had a rather bad feeling about this.

---

The foundry was a labyrinth, there were no two ways about it. Obi-Wan could swear that he took the same corner twice, though it was against all reason as to how that was possible when he only seemed to be going forward.

He jogged along a passage, his Jedi boots clanking as he ran over the latticework, and his eyes scouring this way and that, looking out for trouble. Whenever he sensed troopers coming, he had to launch himself into the ceiling, or find a hollow in the wall in which to conceal himself, and hope that the Force would lend him a hand and keep him hidden. This plan of action seemed to be working so far, though he had found no sign of any command centres, and he just hoped that Serenn was having as much luck…

---

Serenn wasn't having as much luck. Everywhere he went there were clone troopers, and then some, and he just could not seem to evade them. At every corner he took, whereupon he found himself facing yet more clones, he could do little but curse with wild abandon and hurtle into them, lightsabre blazing. Hacking down every soldier that set eyes on him was his only option under the circumstances, for any survivors would simply get away and raise the alarm. He couldn't afford to let that happen.

After he got through his fourth wave of troopers, he took a breather and stared down in dismay at the carnage he had caused. He then turned his eyes up to face a doorway at the far end of the corridor and saw yet another faction of troops rush towards him. He exhaled ruggedly. "Always on the move," he panted, before he charged…

---

/ 'Anakin Skywalker, meet Obi-Wan Kenobi.'/

/'Hi. You're a Jedi, too? Pleased to meet you!'/

There was a tremor in the Force, a feeling that Vader could only associate with his former master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and the closer he got to the man, the more prominent it became. It was hard to explain to a non-Force user how these sensations, these vibrations through the Force, could communicate certain things to one - perhaps its best sensory comparison was with that of smell, where sometimes one can link a certain aroma to a certain object, or even to a certain memory; the essence of Obi-Wan was the equivalent of a pungent smell, one so powerful that it was unmistakable, and it sent a dagger through Vader's heart.

The Sith Lord marched down several passageways and then descended a couple of flights of stairs, before he walked out toward the hub of the active foundry. He would find Obi-Wan Kenobi at last and they would then have a long overdue chat.

---

Obi-Wan now walked stealthily through a wide corridor. He could hear all kinds of humming and throbbing noises emanating from the distant reaches of the factory, accompanied by the tinny percussion of metal hitting metal; it made the atmosphere feel tense, as though he were walking into the lair of a huge slumbering beast, one that, once roused, would do terrible things…

And in a way, he was.

Obi wasn't quite sure where he was - he had a feeling that that last right turn should have been a left - but he had no inclination of turning back now; or worse, of actually deigning to ask Dooku for directions… He just kept himself walking tight to the walls and made his way steadily along the dim, gloomy passageway until it opened out into a massive, great chamber.

He looked around this huge room in awe; here there was stored hundreds upon hundreds of giant metal panels, all a dull-grey in colour, whilst rows of gargantuan girders lined another side of the hall, like vast leaning towers of steel. Kenobi supposed that this must be some kind of storage hangar, all of these parts clearly being intended for the construction site of the beastly space station that he and Dooku were trying to prevent from ever coming into being.

Obi's thoughts were soon interrupted, however, for the Force suddenly began to whisper to him in a strange and eerie voice, drawing his attention to the far side of the room. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and his body brimmed with a cold sweat as he then turned to see what was there.

Or rather who.

There was a grim figure stood across the other side of the hangar, a man cloaked completely in black, with his face overshadowed by a hood and his hands hung nonchalantly by his sides.

Obi's stomach clenched - it was Anakin. "Hello there," he said, gathering his resolve and facing the dark spectre head-on.

The figure reached up and drew back the hood to reveal the visage of the late Anakin Skywalker, a face ravaged by anger, darkness and greed. "I've been waiting for you," he replied, his voice, though not loud, still managing to carry across the enormous hall.

Obi-Wan didn't want to madden his old friend outright, so he restrained his tongue and just stared at him, studying the creature that the small slave boy from Tatooine had become; he was so much changed, and all for the dream of being a Jedi and for the love of a woman…

Vader meanwhile began to make his way across the chamber, closing the gap between himself and his old mentor.

"I'm not here to settle scores, Anakin," Obi-Wan said as the young man drew closer.

So much for not wanting to enrage him, Obi's mind remarked just a little too late - hearing that name alone, the very cadence of 'Anakin', sent Vader into a savage rage and, without a moment's hesitation, the Sith Lord simply brought his lightsabre to life and charged at his former master.

Obi's 'sabre hilt tumbled from his hip into his hand, before he then swung it up and parried Vader's first blow, his blue lightsabre meeting the young Sith's red one with a deafening crack…

And so it began.

---

Dooku wheeled about, struck down two clones at once, then backed into a doorway, taking a moment to again catch his breath. This slaughter wasn't something he was particularly proud of, and he felt his hands shake a little as the sheer scale of this destruction sank in; it seemed bizarre that, after the events of the war, this further killing spree proved too much for him, but he presumed it was a sign that the circuits in his brain were finally functioning properly again .

Taking another few gulps of air, the Count then turned and began to walk quietly down the side passage into which he had come. It was very dark in here, and rather narrow, but he followed it regardless of his apprehensions.

As he reached the end, he found himself faced with a metal-rung ladder, reaching up the wall and to the floor above. He glanced up toward its peak before he decided to take hold of the thick bars and shin himself up the steps. His head emerged on the next level after a matter of seconds and he peered around, finding himself in yet another dark and empty passageway. Making sure there was no one about, Dooku thus leapt up onto the surface and followed this corridor round to its end, where a doorway lay open and invited him into the chamber beyond.

Serenn took his lightsabre into hand and hesitated a little before he gathered his resolve and crossed the threshold, and there beheld, rather anticlimactically, nothing but a small control room that overlooked part of the foundry. That and a thin, tall man, who was stood with his back turned and staring out over the foundry, anyway.

The Count stood still and flicked his thumb over his lightsabre's activation switch, holding the red blade before him whilst he monitored the lone stranger with care.

The other man turned and gave the intruding Count a careful look. "Well, well, well… here's a familiar face," he smiled, a grim light glimmering in the backs of his pale eyes. "I recognise you."

Serenn glared at the man, but was unable to identify him in return.

"It's Count Dooku, isn't it? Or Count Dooku dressed as a Jedi Knight, in any case." The thin man put a gloved hand to his lips and gave Serenn another long look. "Word had it that you were dead, but why should we trust a man such as yourself to just die? It just doesn't happen, does it?"

And then it clicked. "Wilhuff Tarkin," Dooku murmured.

"Hmm… your memory's not what it was. But I suppose you have met many more interesting faces over the course of that life of yours. I'm sure mine has just floated to the bottom of the pile." He gave the man a rapid-fire smile, then clasped his hands at the small of his back. "And now you've returned with a vengeance, clad once again as a Jedi, and prepared to destroy the Emperor's ultimate weapon, yes? A weapon you, ironically, commissioned to begin with."

Serenn took a deep breath and held his tongue; this man was as apt with words as he had once been.

The Governor then just opened his arms to him. "Come along then, Count Dooku," he smirked. "Kill me."

Serenn could feel his anger coiling back like a bloodthirsty serpent, a serpent that ached to lunge at the man and suck the life from his very body, and he did indeed begin to raise his lightsabre back over his head, ready to strike, until--

"But perhaps you'd like to think of the consequences first?"

Serenn shuddered to a halt as Tarkin said this, and then saw in the distance, as the man stepped to the right, Obi-Wan locked in combat with Darth Vader across the other side of the foundry. His eyes widened as he watched as the two lightsabres, blue on red, flash and whir, the two men performing a fast and furious dance of death. He then glanced back at Tarkin, who was by now offering him a wickedly grim smirk; "I know where the Death Star plans are," he said. "Kill me, and I guarantee you'll never find them… at least not before Lord Vader kills you and your colleague over there first."

Dooku's eyes were glued to the vision of Obi-Wan and Vader fighting, and he swallowed hard.

"What will your choice be? My life or General Kenobi's? Is it possible that you won't kill me, Count? Is it possible that you may return to your roots and do things the diplomatic way?"

"I'm not a killer."

Tarkin laughed. "Oh, but you are. Many lives have been lost because of you. Perhaps you didn't always pull the trigger, but you were still responsible, and you know it. No one starts a war without thinking otherwise."

The Count looked to Obi-Wan again and felt his left hand sweat whilst he clutched the lightsabre hilt, making it slide beneath his remaining few flesh fingers.

"Having a bit of a repentant streak, are we, Dooku? Taking some time out? All killers do… it just makes you feel better…"

Serenn couldn't be bothered with the man. "I haven't come for a psychological examination - we could be here all day if I had."

Tarkin allowed himself a chuckle. "Yes, you're right, of course. So… shall I write out my will now, or when you come back…?"

Dooku tightened his gaze upon the man and rose the tip of his weapon beneath his bony chin; "Take your time, Governor," he murmured, before he turned and ran.

And Serenn thus tore as fast as he could back through the corridors of the foundry, his ponytail flying out behind him and his fists pounding the air as he drove himself forward, picking up pace all the time. He dropped straight down stairwells and took corners quickly, sometimes even running halfway up the walls so that he could take them fast enough, and stampeded on in the direction of Obi-Wan Kenobi, determined not to let the man perish. "Hold on, Obi-Wan," he murmured. "Hold on…"

---

The fight between Kenobi and Darth Vader had moved from the storage hangar and through into the wide expanse of a huge metal-casting chamber. A massive basin opened out beneath several levels of crisscrossing gangways, a basin into which tons of molten metal would be poured and fashioned into the panels of skin and bone that would make up the Emperor's Death Star. Heavy conduits opened into this basin from its sides, and a long row of gargantuan pitchers, hung overhead and suspended from the ceiling by a long rail, were prepared to bear further molten gifts into the yawning chamber below. It was a hellish place, the atmosphere close and smelling heavily of smouldering metal, and, though it was now grey and dull, one flick of the switch at the control terminal would bring this place to life and splash its gloomy furnishings with sordid orange and yellow glows.

Obi barely had time to register all this, though, for he was far too absorbed in the battle at hand. Vader thrust him through a doorway from the storage hangar and then sent him tumbling down a walkway, one of many that crossed over the deep basin below.

Obi-Wan fell awkwardly onto his elbow, crashing against the metal lattice, and cringed as he felt the sweat roll down his face. The atmosphere around him offered no release, just when he really could have done with it the most; Anakin had grown so much in power since they had last been together that he could hardly comprehend the change, and though he knew Anakin better than anyone else, and believed he could be an equal opponent because of that, he had forgotten that Anakin also knew him far too well in return. The battle might have been an all-out stalemate if Anakin didn't now exceeded him so much in levels of power.

Vader watched with disdain as Obi scrambled back to his feet. "Can you tell I've been a good boy, master?" he sneered. "Can you tell I've been practising?"

Obi-Wan had given up talking for the time being. He knew he'd just dig himself a deeper hole if he opened his mouth, and he could do without that.

"But since you're here, you can help me," Darth went on.

Obi held his 'sabre out before him and took a step back.

"Someone took my Padmé away from me. And I think you know who it was."

Kenobi's lips remained sealed.

"She was stolen from right under my nose." Vader took a slow stride forward, and then another, beginning to raise his lightsabre toward his mentor. "I wonder who it was? Who would have known where to find her? Who would have had the nerve?"

Obi wasn't sure whether Anakin thought that he had been the one to rescue Padmé or not; it made no sense to him, but if Anakin thought that Dooku was dead, then perhaps there were few other suspects.

"It was a very bad mistake to make," Darth murmured, his voice darkening and his eyes almost seeming to flare with red and gold. "It was foolish."

Obi took his 'sabre hilt in both hands and prepared for the oncoming storm.

"Make things easy on yourself, master. Tell me where she is. I know something's happened to her and I need to find her. So tell me."

Kenobi just stared deep into the turbulent pits of ire that were Lord Vader's eyes and shook his head. "I can't," he said.

"That's the wrong answer," Vader snarled, before he brought his lightsabre down in one great, curving arc over Obi-Wan's head. The Jedi managed to parry the blow before he wheeled backwards and stood en garde again.

"You can't hide her forever," Darth growled on, before he lunged again and thrust his weapon at Kenobi's body.

Obi propelled the incoming attack aside; "Listen to yourself!" he snapped, unable to keep his cool any longer. "You're obsessed!"

"Where is she!"

On and on came the red blade, to the left and the right, above and below, and Obi was forced only further and further back as he knocked, shoved and drove each incoming attack aside.

"Everything is perfect now," Darth ranted. "The galaxy's at peace. The greatest man alive rules it. And all that it needs to be complete is Padmé, so we can both stand at the Emperor's right hand!"

"She would never join you."

"I know my Padmé. She wants what's best for the galaxy."

"Yes, and that's not you or your blasted Empire."

Obi knew it was foolish to be so terse, but it was as if Anakin's anger was infecting him and drawing him down to his level. He could feel the darkness there around them both, clouding the air like a toxic gas and infusing itself into their bloodstreams.

The lightsabres clashed again and the two danced, their footwork rapid and flawless as they twisted and twirled back along the gangway, their bodies occasionally enveloped in thick swirls of steam which burst up from small exhaust pipelines beneath them. Wherever Vader attacked, Obi parried, wherever Darth kicked, Kenobi dodged, and with every failed assault, the young Sith became only more and more aggravated; Obi-Wan was not an aggressive fighter - he never had been - and this tended to irritate his opponents more than anything. Master Kenobi had to be severely pushed if he was to fight viciously.

"You're pathetic," Vader shouted at last, his teeth ground together in impatience. "Why don't you fight like a true warrior?"

Obi turned Darth's next cleaving shot, aimed at his waist, away before he then flipped backwards to give himself some space and a moment to breathe. "This is how a true warrior fights," he retorted, before he angled his lightsabre down and invited Vader on again.

Darth took up the offer and spun into Obi-Wan, throwing his entire weight behind the assault. Kenobi grunted as he withstood this powerful attack and held Vader's blade there, though he felt his feet skid back a little along the latticework of the gangplank. A bead of sweat rolled down his brow as he held his ground, his muscles shaking behind such force, and, at last, he managed to accumulate enough strength to hurl Darth's blade off and to retreat another few paces.

"Coward!" the young Sith now cried, charging his former mentor once more.

Obi shook his head in the few seconds that lapsed before Vader's lightsabre fell on his again, lamenting the insane determination of the lad.

Darth now held his weapon in both hands, and the power behind his offensives had increased to an incredible level. His eyes were bright with rage and concentration as he swung his blade down, then across, then thrust it up into an uppercut, every time having to face the nuisance of Obi-Wan's flawless blocking.

The two combatants had by now reached the centre of the giant casting chamber, gangways crossing overhead and below them, whilst the long line of gargantuan canisters, dangling precariously from what looked like very small chains right up in the rafters, swung gently in a nonexistent breeze, all inert and empty and waiting for the right moment to come alive.

It wasn't long until, in this battle between old friends, a blunder finally occurred in Obi-Wan's defence, and, as he deflected another of Vader's cleaving shots, he felt Darth's boot then clip his heels, and he stumbled off-balance into the railings at his left.

He came back to himself just in time to stagger backwards again, out of range of Vader's consequent incoming thrust at his chest, but he had by then completely lost his stable poise and he accordingly fell into a tired heap upon the floor.

Obi-Wan sighed and took several deep breaths whilst, with a great leap, Vader landed before his nose. Obi looked up into his former Padawan's terrible face, a face moulded with avarice and hatred, and he swallowed as Vader now lowered his blade over his chest and pinned him there. He was trapped.

"I might feel bad about this, master," Darth muttered as he moved his lightsabre one way then another over his old mentor's body, "if you didn't so deserve it."

Obi convulsively swallowed - what use would words be now? The boy was deafened to him, choosing the voice of the dark side over his, and hearing nothing except that which he wanted to hear.

"Tell me where Padmé is," Vader went on, "and I might be lenient…"

Obi shook his head another time, doing his best to crawl back across the walkway without pushing himself up into that deadly blade. "She's somewhere you can never reach her, Anakin," he whispered. He then doubled up as Darth's boot suddenly flung, with tremendous force, into his abdomen; "My name is Vader!" the wayward warrior roared, kicking the Jedi Knight several more times over before he was satisfied.

Obi grimaced, clutching at his sore and weary body. He felt the bile rise to his mouth, but he swallowed it down again, and closed his eyes as several blasts of steam shot up through the metalwork and enveloped both he and the crazed young man in an eerie mist, giving one the impression that they were both gloomy spectres loitering in a wreck of a world.

The mist soon cleared enough for Kenobi to be able to look back up and see Vader's ravaged eyes and ireful countenance come into focus once again. He could carry on fighting, he knew that he could, but there was something about the presence of the young man before him, about the very fact that Anakin had decayed into this thing, that depressed Obi-Wan and tore out his will to persevere. It was terrifying to think that this had all been allowed to happen, and that it was, perhaps, all his fault as well...

Obi-Wan thus watched Darth raise his red lightsabre back over his head without any inclination of saving himself, and just thought about how devastating an end this was, and about how much he had failed everyone…

And then Vader swung--

But, suddenly, there was movement at the railings, and a shadow passed over Obi-Wan! Before Vader's blade could quite meet Kenobi's flesh, it was intercepted and held fast aloft by another lightsabre of a similarly crimson hue. Through the haze, Obi-Wan could only hear Darth cry out, "You!" in a combination of surprise and aversion before, wheeling back, the Sith Lord drew his new protagonist away down the walkway.

"Why won't you just die?" Vader growled on.

"Dying isn't a habit of mine," the other retorted, his voice fortified with a bitter resolve.

Momentarily forgotten, Obi peered into the murk to discern his saviour's form - and he soon recognised Serenn's body, tensed ready for the fight, his russet robes making him contrast greatly against the dark tunic of Lord Vader.

The past and present Sith apprentices glared at one another for some time, and Obi-Wan could sense more in their hatred than the mere opposition of their galactic allegiances; there was a profound tension between them, a battle over the love of a woman who had suffered as a result of both their actions, and who they had both wanted to claim as their own.

"It was you, wasn't it?" Vader roared, his eyes flaring with such a fire it was terrifying. "Oh, I see it now… Count Dooku, the man who wanted what was never his to take, crawling back to Coruscant to steal my Padmé again."

"Yours, was she?"

"You twisted her mind and you made her think things she should never have thought."

"My, my, you do credit my abilities. I'm not sure they extended so far."

"Why does she love you?"

It was petty, but Serenn smirked at Vader as soon as he said this. He liked that fact, the implausible knowledge that, despite everything, Padmé had loved him in the end - and it was even more glorious to hear it finally emerge from Darth Vader's lips.

Vader saw that Dooku was basking in this glory with something of a sordid glee, and he thus felt the anger rise. "Where is she?" he demanded, raising his lightsabre to point at the man. "What have you done with her now?"

Serenn's smile faded in an instant and a deep grief now flooded his eyes, a grief looking for an egress, for some leakage out of the tortured soul within which it was trapped. "I have done nothing," he snarled.

"Nothing?" Vader scoffed, throwing his head back and laughing acidly. "How can you say nothing?"

"I say what is true. She only suffered from what you had done."

There was a flicker in Vader's gaze then, and he was forced into silence whilst he faced his oldest rival, wondering how much Dooku knew and, more importantly, what he was talking about now.

"Oh the Force has done us both very underhand favours, hasn't it?" the Count went on as he began to swing his lightsabre around in his palms, arrogantly - and deliberately - showcasing his skills to Darth Vader. "What you saw of me, I later saw of you. What I did, you copied. But what was once, in a word, 'yours' ended up as mine…"

"LIAR!" Vader screamed, eyes flashing again, and he drew his lightsabre back, his knees bent as he prepared to charge.

Serenn chuckled bitterly. "And so here we both are, ready to receive out comeuppance, to face each other and to battle over that which neither of us can ever now have!"

Vader's eyes again flickered with dreadful uncertainty at this. "What do you mean?" he muttered.

Serenn ignored him. "So I ask you, Lord Darth Vader, who was the more foolish? The fool" - and here he tapped himself on the chest - "or the fool who followed him?" And his hand wafted at Darth.

The tension exploded.

A dark and forbidding smile plastered itself upon Serenn's face as Vader rushed at him full-on, screaming at the top of his lungs, and the Count quickly tossed his weapon back over his shoulder, held out his hand behind him, caught it again, then, without a second glance, swung up into Vader's attack.

The two red blades came together with a deafening crack, each man fighting with a ferocity beyond that of the lightsabre battles that had preceded them - this wasn't about politics or Jedi-Sith rivalries, this was personal.

The weapons came apart and Serenn began to draw Darth Vader back, deflecting his every attack with a speed and application that somehow managed to be frightening; it was as if, through his every parry, the Count was somewhat goading Vader on and teasing him with nothing but the dexterity of his hand.

"Tell me what you meant!" Vader demanded as he and the Count crossed swords time and again, neither penetrating the other's defences, and their eyes locked on one another's. "Why can neither of us have her? Where is she now?"

But the Count, for once, said nothing. His long legs simply continued to take easy and fluent strides rearwards down the walkway as he lured Vader along, his lightsabre moving in graceful arcs and waves, and sending Darth's powerful but erratic lunges aside at every turn.

"Talk to me!" Vader screamed, becoming irritated by the unproductively of their brawl and of Dooku's peculiar silence. He soon opted for a change of tact, whereupon he made a sudden, long thrust forward at the Count, and hoped to evade his defences.

Serenn saw the assault coming before Vader had even began, though, so was ready for it, and clouted the incoming blade away before he flung a foot up into Darth's chin and made his jaws snap together with a horrid crack.

Vader stumbled backward for a moment, a muffled curse rising from his lips as the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. He then glared daggers at the Count, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing blood all across it. "Foul play," he growled.

Dooku made a cocky grimace. "Anything goes."

Darth allowed himself a grin, his face making a rather ghastly picture with his eyes so livid and his gums lined with blood. "Oh, where's your honour now, Count Dooku, you noble old Jedi?" he teased. "What happened to your respectable code of conduct?"

"It died."

Vader chortled again. "I'm sorry to hear it."

"You will be."

Serenn made the charge this time round and he spun around into a great cleaving shot, his blade coming in toward Vader's neck. Darth dropped to his knees to evade the attack in turn, then quickly spun back onto his feet, turning the situation to his advantage and thrusting Dooku's lightsabre aside, whereupon he butted the Count in the head, and sent the other man staggering away in a transitory daze.

"Mind your head," Darth sneered, preparing to finish him off - but he was too slow, and soon felt Serenn's foot clip his ankles, making him tumble onto the walkway with a thud.

"Watch your feet," Serenn rejoined, rubbing his head for a moment before he rose his lightsabre back again and prepared to skewer Vader's body.

Darth's gaze fixed itself on Dooku and he then demonstrated the true extent of his powers by sending a great surge of the Force into the Count like an invisible tidal wave, one which consequently propelled the man backwards and over the nearest railing, from which he fell several metres onto a walkway below.

Dooku yelled as he hit the next gangway, his elbow jarring beneath him and his vision spinning; Darth Vader was indeed formidable. He needed to be more careful.

He cringed against the pain as he dragged himself back onto his feet, and then heard the sound of Darth's boots hitting the platform not far behind him.

Dooku turned around slowly and his eyes met Vader's once more.

"Your powers are weak, old man," the Sith sneered.

Serenn breathed heavily for a moment and suddenly, as he stared into Darth's eyes, he did feel like an old man. He saw the power, the youthful vigour and the endless strength surging beneath Vader's skin and burning in his eyes, and he could feel an essence about Darth, such a cloud of energy and hate, that it put him in the shade. Maybe once they had been equals, but now, grudgingly, he had to confess to himself that maybe he was weak and maybe he was old, and that, just maybe, he wouldn't win this fight.

But there was always a small chance that things would go his way.

And so, casting aside his doubt, Serenn took up his blade in both hands once more and waited for Lord Vader to charge him. Which Darth gladly did, storming down the gangway like a rampaging reek, before his blade thundered down on top of Serenn's and the red weapons clashed all over again.

Serenn was moving backwards once more as their weapons got going, but this time it wasn't out of choice - Vader's power was growing, and, with his every thrust and clout, Dooku could do little but retreat on the defensive. The more angry, the more confident, and the more determined Vader became, the more the dark side rushed to his aid, feeding off him like a hoard of ravenous leeches, and repaying him with gifts of vigour and intensity. The dark side wasn't there any more for Dooku, not like it had been, and nor did he want it to be; he didn't want to go down that path again.

Dooku swung here and there, angling his blade every which way as he struggled to protect himself from Darth's angry lightsabre, but the pressure soon began to get too much, and, as the sweat rolled down his forehead, and his metal arm, still too alien to his body to remain comfortable for long, began to throb where it met his skin, he began to falter. It wasn't long until Vader took advantage of Dooku's weakness and, trapping the Count's 'sabre aside, managed to throw his fist into the Count's face.

Serenn barked out a short yell before he clattered to the floor and stared up at Vader jadedly. Vader smirked back at the man and took this opportunity to now make things even more interesting - he rose his hand to a gangway that crossed overhead and slowly began to clench his fingers into a fist, so that, in turn, the metal above started to creak and groan, twisting beneath the powers of the Force, until, with a final crack, an entire section of the above walkway began to tumble down toward them. Or more precisely, toward Serenn.

Dooku swallowed as he saw this coming, and wasted no time in flipping onto his feet, summoning the Force and propelling himself away down platform, well clear of the falling causeway as it collapsed, crashing down into theirs; but, unfortunately, it also caused their gangway to cave in, as it fell straight through the surface and split the platform into two.

Vader scampered away from the fissure as the platform rocked and swayed, both its ends beginning to tilt inwards like two gigantic slides, and was at least quick enough to find a stable rod to hold onto - but Serenn was less fortunate, and was powerless to prevent himself from falling down the increasingly inclined surface of his side of the walkway. He soon lost his balance altogether and tumbled into the yawning chasm below…

Darth laughed as he clambered up onto a secure and horizontal part of the gangway. "Whoops!" he jeered as he watched Serenn fall down, down, down, until the man hit one of the pit's rounded, sloping edges and rolled into the very depths of the great basin.

Serenn's sight was swirling and his stomach somersaulting when he finally came to a halt down below, and his skin burnt as a result of the friction caused when he had rolled across the hard, metal-and-stone surfaces. He cursed his own ineptitude before anything else, but soon cast that aside in order to refocus on the task at hand. As he clambered shakily to his feet, however, he saw that he was going to need his wits about him for Vader was strutting off down the walkway, far above, and heading for the control terminals of the chamber.

"Oh no…" Serenn whispered to himself, following Vader's movements with his eyes.

"This chamber isn't scheduled for use until tonight," the Sith apprentice called so that the Count could still hear him. "But why don't we start a little early?" As he reached the control terminals of the huge casting unit, he pulled down a lever and, at once, a red light began to blink on the console, and the hidden cogs and gears of the chamber groaned to life all around them. The beast was rousing...

Serenn's eyes darted all over the place at this, and he glanced from one thing to the next - from the hanging canisters way above, to the multitude of gangways, to the open chutes that gaped into the massive basin, and then finally back to Lord Vader. He could see one way out of this basin, but it was single rung ladder quite a distance away, and one that also led straight up to Vader's platform.

"How about we burn away all those sins of yours, Count Dooku?" Vader continued in the meantime, drinking up his triumph with pride. "How about I purify you with fire and mould you into the walls of my master's battle station?"

Serenn swallowed and just stared hard at Darth for a moment, until, an idea hitting him, he simply rose his hand and gestured for the young man to come down to him. "So you are Sidious's great, new protégé, are you?" he sneered, his powerful voice reverberating around the gigantic chamber like that of a god's. "Darth Vader, the great coward."

Vader's countenance paled a little in the face of such an insult, and his fists clenched. "I'm no coward," he yelled back.

Dooku's brow cocked. "No? Then prove it. Finish me like a true warrior." The Count opened his hand toward his lightsabre, which had been waylaid after his fall, and drew it back into his grasp, before he angled it over his shoulder and readied himself for the last battle. "Let me die by your hand, if I must die at all."

Vader didn't need to think twice before he took a running leap over the nearest barrier and plummeted down into the abyss, landing gracefully not far from the Count. "Don't worry… there's plenty of time until this place floods," he said. "I'll enjoy watching your body getting soaked up in the mess. I'll enjoy seeing you burn."

Serenn only gave the young Sith a menacing smile and began to swing his lightsabre blade about in another purposely brash display of skill. "Twice the pride," he murmured, "Double the fall."

This short, baiting exhibition did its work, and it wasn't a second longer before Vader ran at Dooku head-on, his red blade coming down on Serenn's and fizzling against it, enthused with his heightened rage and power.

Back up on one of the gangways, seeming to have been quite forgotten, Obi-Wan was by now back on his feet and observing the turn of events with great interest. The battle so far had been intense, and he was curious to see how it turned out. He knew that only one of them would walk away from this fight alive, though, if any of them walked away at all…

"Why won't you come out with the truth?" Vader snarled as his blade clashed with the Count's, their gazes locked again. "Why won't you tell me where Padmé is? You know you'll never get out of here alive to see her..."

Serenn said nothing. He just continued to deflect Darth's attacks.

The two drew away from one another, then both, as one, swung their blades back in. They paced aside, turned, and came in again, weapons clashing and fizzling, before they drew back, then attacked once more.

"I should have known you were still alive… Even Lord Sidious couldn't do away with you." Vader parried Serenn's next attack, twirled about, then threw his blade at him again. "You're like a disease, an infection, one that just won't go, and that contaminates all it touches… including my Padmé."

Dooku visibly swallowed and his eyes darkened, but still he said nothing. His attacks were becoming noticeably more fierce, though, and, despite his increasing fatigue, he began to throw more and more power behind his every thrust, his every swing and his every parry.

"She was with child," Darth snapped. "She was pregnant. Did you know that?"

The Count glared at him but decided to say nothing.

Vader grinned, taking his silence as a sign of envy. "Yes… I did what you could not."

This immediately roused Dooku from out of his torpor and his eyes flared at Vader with that old hint of indestructible energy; "You sick boy, did you really think this was some sort of 'contest'? Some sort of game?"

"Wasn't it?" The grin on Vader's face was hideous. "My mistake… you seemed eager to play at the start. I believe it was even you who initiated it."

Dooku's lips trembled, but he knew that Vader was right in this instance; he had begun this 'contest', but he knew that now no one was going to win, because the 'prize' was lost; she was gone forever, and it was all his fault. All that now remained was her legacy and her children, children he needed to protect…

/'And now, your highness, we will discuss the location of your hidden rebel base.'/

But that he couldn't protect forever.

And then it hit him, a terrible truth. He was endangering the children. He was the link that Vader needed to find, if not Padmé, then his offspring - so long as he lingered, he would be the key to what Vader wanted to know. Could he live on with this guilt in mind? Could he, Darth Vader's enemy, continue to exist when he was the very threat he had promised Padmé he would guard her children against?

"Did she give birth?" Darth continued to rant. "Where is he? Where's my boy? What have you done with him?"

Dooku's eyes met Vader's as he continued to think on matters. There were, of course, others who might possibly jeopardise the safety of Padmé's children - anyone who knew of their birth, for a start, but more so the Jedi Knight who was stood on that gangway far ahead, Obi-Wan Kenobi. But someone had to live to protect them… Someone had to be there to guide them down the right path. This was Obi-Wan's duty, and he now had to do his.

He thus swung wildly at Vader's legs, his focus gone but his fearless bravado now taking over, and he ploughed on without care or refinement into Darth Vader, for he knew that he had but one purpose left to serve; if Darth Vader was to live - and Serenn already knew that he would - then there could only be one fate for him; and if he had to take it, then he would make it worth his while.

Vader parried Serenn's suddenly reckless incoming assaults with his teeth ground together, and tried to comprehend where this sudden rush of audacity had come from. He could feel such might behind the Count's attacks that for a moment, it scared him. He flung his blade back at the man in a vain attempt to quell this desperate onslaught, but it just got knocked aside like an insignificant thing, and he was forced to parry another few rounds of shots and jabs.

It wasn't for another few minutes of maddened fighting that Vader finally managed to catch Serenn's blade against his and lock it in place, so that he was now stood within close range of the man. The two were so close, in fact, that they could feel each other's breaths on their respective faces. "The clock is ticking, Count," Darth growled. "Tell me where she is."

Dooku's eyes were filled with that intensity they were famous for, and Vader saw things in them that he didn't like; the long life of a battle-scarred warrior was therein contained, a battle-scarred warrior who was, right now, utterly fearless, and that was the worst kind of opponent to face - the one who had nothing to lose.

Serenn eventually broke their stare and spun away, clipping Vader's heels in the process and giving himself some time whilst Darth regained his balance. "You said you loved her," he muttered.

/'I think it's time for some reclamation. These things can be 'rectified'…'/

"You made her believe that. But you loved yourself first. You loved your power first. You forgot what love was, because the dark side does not know love, it knows only of possession, of greed, and of lust."

Vader's face screwed up a little. "You're a fine one to lecture me, Count Dooku," he rejoined. "You know that you took what was not yours."

"You speak as if we're talking about a thing, a possession. We're not."

"She was never yours to have."

Serenn lost his temper. "She was never anyone's to have!" he bellowed. "She was no possession."

Darth flared up in return. "But you treated her like one!"

"Yes. And I was wrong."

Vader paused for a moment, allowing himself to calm a little before, smiling grimly, he hissed, "It doesn't change anything. I won't forgive you for what you did to her."

Serenn's gaze tightened on him. "That is not for you to forgive," he muttered. "It did not concern you."

"Anything that concerns Padmé concerns me!" he thundered in return, thrusting his weapon at Serenn once again and sending a whole multitude of attacks at the man, each in rapid and savage succession of the other. His eyes practically glowed with rage as he pushed the Count further and further back, forcing him into retreat once again, across the uneven floor.

The combined wrath of the two duellists crackled and fizzed in the air like a blazing inferno, the ire between them as perceptible as the men themselves; each was out to blame the other for the loss of the woman they had loved, but only one of them could succeed, and only one of them would succeed. And the Chosen One's power, after all, was at its terrible peak.

It was then that Vader slung his blade down over Serenn's head with such force that, as the Count blocked it, the shockwaves it sent through his limbs were profound enough to make his knees buckle and his legs collapse. And so he dropped, cringing in anguish, onto the unforgiving metal of the basin floor…

"Age is finally catching up with you," Darth sneered, watching the former Jedi drag himself backwards and try to get back onto his feet again. He then laughed solidly as he kicked Dooku in the legs and watched him fall onto the floor again. "Get up!" he taunted.

Serenn glared at Anakin, and, with a great effort, he hauled himself back to his feet, his legs shaky and limp, and his arms feeling like heavy loads that he could no longer lift. His entire body was just screaming out in protest, asking him to give in, but he ignored it all. He still had his honour, and he would go down fighting. After some effort, he eventually managed to raise his lightsabre up to face Vader's for one last time.

Lord Vader watched this feeble show for another few seconds before he just broke out into another wave of terrible laughter. Then with a fast, energised swing, he thrust his weapon up and sent Serenn's lightsabre flying. The Count was thus powerless to stop the Sith apprentice from then swinging his blade back once again and cutting through his right arm with all manner of hatred.

Serenn cried out, shortly and sharply, before he fell to his knees and heard his metallic appendage tumble away.

Vader looked down at the burning stump of Dooku's arm and allowed himself a smile; now he had done to the Count exactly what Lord Sidious had - and soon he would do more. Snickering under his breath, he looked deep into Dooku's eyes whilst the other man hovered there before him on unsteady knees, but as the young Sith delved into those dark orbs, he felt himself overcome with another unexpected sensation of fear and faintness, and soon he understood why; there, within this man's mind, were contained traces of Padmé.

Darth's smug smile faded and he blinked; finally, he was onto something.

He thus delved as deeply as he could into Dooku's mire of memories, at a time when the man was vulnerable and unable to conceal them, and he caught flickers of Padmé's smiles, of her in strange places and strange rooms, of her face sometimes bright, sometimes filled with tears, and sometimes even covered in beads of sweat, and then… yes, sometimes even in pain. His brow flickered - he tried to see further, but he was getting into territory far too personal for the Count to, even now, open it up to him; he did catch the edge of a child's cry in one brief memoir, though. A baby had been born.

"So she did give birth?" he murmured, his eyes coming back to him. He looked at Serenn with an expression of hurt and betrayal, and even jealousy. "You were there, weren't you? Trying to imagine my boy was yours?" He smiled maliciously at the Count. "Poor, old man."

Vader's lightsabre came up beneath Dooku's chin. "Now tell me where you've hidden my boy and my Padmé."

The Count clearly wasn't swayed by the threat on his life, for he made not a move - he just continued to stare at Vader, but in a way that made Darth feel insulted. Serenn was looking at him like he was filth.

"Children are wonderful things," the Count remarked at last. "Remarkable, I might say. But there are those amongst us who are unfit to be parents. And you are one of those people, Anakin Skywalker, so do not think that I shall ever reveal the location of your child to you."

Vader was enraged. "You--"

"Oh, you talk about your Padmé and your love, and of some kind of idealistic life that you would share if she was still here, but you cannot fool me," he went on savagely, "You tried to control and possess her because you knew she was falling away from you, because you knew she was something so much stronger and intelligent than yourself."

"Shut up!"

"She was afraid of you. Absolutely terrified."

"And she didn't fear you?"

The Count paused for a moment before he shook his head. "No… not at the end." He put his remaining hand to the floor and forced himself, for another time, onto his lame feet, holding his head high and looking down on Darth Vader with a hint of his old hauteur. "I've changed Anakin," he said, "and you have, too. But it was me that she held in favour at the last."

"LIAR!" Vader bellowed, preparing to strike.

"It's true!" Serenn roared in return, staggering backward as Darth stepped closer. "And do you know why it's true, Skywalker? Because I became exactly what you had been. And guess what you have become…"

Darth knitted his teeth together and a lonely tear of confusion and anger rolled down his cheek. "No…" he stammered. "It's not true."

"Yes," Serenn nodded. "And you know it. We're more alike than either you or I want to admit." - and here he rose the unsightly stump of his right arm into view- "Aren't we?"

Vader couldn't help but glance at his metal arm, then look at Dooku's smouldering stump, and reluctantly concede the argument.

"You're not your own person anymore, boy," Dooku continued. "You belong to the Sith Master. He controls you now."

But Vader refused to believe it, and shook his head in denial. "No, you're wrong. We're a team. He understands me, and he lets me achieve my full potential!"

Serenn scoffed. "He only uses you, you fool! He uses us all!"

"I'm different from you!"

"Are you?"

Darth allowed himself a moment to breath again. "Where is she?" he asked another time, his eyes glassy with rage and dread. "What have you done with her?"

"You can never reach her, boy, and you know it."

"No, it's not true."

"You keep saying that."

"Where's my son? What have you done with him?"

Still nothing.

"Tell me where Padmé is!"

Serenn glared at the crazed young Sith before he finally said, "You can never have her back, Anakin Skywalker. Not any more. Now let her rest in peace… she suffered enough in her lifetime."

Realisation dawned on Vader and the colour drained from his flustered face. "No… I'll never forgive you for this!" he growled. "You turned her against me… you took her away from me… you laid your hands on her, you made her yours… and now you tell me she's gone? Have you ousted my blood from my son's veins, too? Have you done that as well, old man?" He shook his head, the dark side feeding off of his anger and despair. "This is your fault!" he roared. "It's all your fault!"

Dooku shook his head, his lips tight. "It's not all my fault, Anakin," he growled. "It's yours as well."

And Vader again charged.

Dooku held out his remaining hand and drew his lightsabre back to it, just in time to parry - however feebly - Darth's clumsy incoming strikes. The Sith apprentice pressed his advantage, ploughing blow after blow onto Dooku's lightsabre as the man, weak and off-balance, did all that he could to repel the other's advances, fighting with his left hand alone.

"She was mine!" Vader bellowed.

/CLASH/

"My Angel!"

/CLASH/

"You shouldn't have taken her away from me!"

/CLASH/

"She loved me!"

/CLASH/

"She was afraid of you!"

/CLASH/

"I know she was!"

/CLASH, CLASH, CLASH/

"It's all your FAULT!"

And, with one great, final blow, the Count's knees buckled another time beneath him, and he fell to the floor whilst Vader stood over him. It was too much for him now; he knew that his body couldn't physically take any more. He could feel his weak muscles spasm and twist, trembling in fatigue and even a little in fear, and he could hear the blood pounding in his ears whilst his maimed arm throbbed in agony. Sweat rolled down his high forehead and stung his eyes, and he felt nothing but the inconsolable need to just bow down to Vader's superior power.

/'Sometimes there are things that no one can fix'/

It was over…

/'Thank you, Serenn.'/

The time had come.

He reached out for one final time, and now heard Vader chuckle, then laugh, as he took a hold of his lightsabre with his flailing fingers and clambered to his feet.

"Oh, this is rich," Darth tittered, finding a perverse hilarity in the situation. "You just won't die, will you?"

The Count rose his eyes and met Vader's gaze, and saw there again all the rage, bloodlust, and total power of an irretrievable Sith apprentice, of a soul lost to the manacles of the dark side. Perhaps he couldn't save Anakin - he had no inclination of doing so, anyway - but he could save Padmé's children, and perhaps even himself. And so, throwing Darth completely off guard, he just grinned - he knew that this wasthe end, and that there was nothing he could do about it, and sometimes it paid to take advantage of that. Holding his lightsabre hilt before him, he then just tossed the weapon away before he opened his arms - the left full and the right stunted - to the reckless Sith apprentice, and said in a loud, energised tone, one that verged upon being frenzied, "Come then, Darth Vader! Take your revenge, and be done with it."

Vader didn't know what to do at first. He just looked the wearied warrior up and down and felt a flush of blood run to his face as if the man were making fun of him; the Count was just staring at him so intensely with those maniacal eyes, and was giving him such a wide, wicked grin, that he felt like he were being insulted.

Vader's lips therefore trembled in rage before, with a deep and absolute cry, he charged at the Count, his feet pounding heavily against the thick, metal floor of the great casting unit as he torpedoed faster and faster in Dooku's direction.

Obi-Wan was still watching from above and observing this staggering series of events with horror. "What are you doing?" he muttered, grasping the nearest railing ever the more tightly. "What are you doing?"

Holding his glowing, red blade in one hand, his blue eyes intense, Darth Vader got into as close a range as was necessary before he made a quick spin on his light feet, rotating until his back faced the Count, then took a breath and plunged his lightsabre backwards into Dooku's torso.

Obi-Wan shuddered. "No…" he sighed as the past and the present came to loggerheads once more…

The Sith Lord moved fast. Pummelling thrust after thrust against Qui-Gon's lightsabre, he forced the great Jedi into retreat until he saw an opportunity for victory, and grabbed it. Driving his lightsabre into Jinn's chin, he dazed the Jedi for a moment that was to prove fatal, and before Qui-Gon could even collect himself, the lofty warrior was subject to a sharp pain in his midsection, and he gasped. He had been run through; the full length of one of the Sith's blade's was now firmly implanted in his body, and peering out from his back.

Serenn exhaled as this final pain tore through his body, feeling that terrible weapon, burning and searing, breaking through his flesh and blood, and sentencing him to a slow but certain death. Then, as Vader finally drew his weapon from out the man's body, the Count's legs, exhausted to their fullest, collapsed beneath him, and he fell to his knees and crumpled into a heap upon the floor.

Obi-Wan watched as he stood powerless behind the wall of one of the cycling, red laser doors. He shook his head in denial, sure that this couldn't happen, that this would never happen… but it had. And as he watched the demonic Sith Lord pull his lightsabre disinterestedly from his mentor's body, he screamed full and vigorously; "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" He could feel his heart pelting against his ribcage, getting heavier and heavier as a feeling of ultimate loss and pain filled it with a leaden weight. He shook his head time and again, and watched as he saw Master Jinn's face freeze up in shock and his body stiffen, before, with a defeated final gasp, the man collapsed into a pile upon the floor, his lightsabre clattering against the metal tiles and rolling a short distance away.

It was over… at last.

Obi-Wan soon realised that his knuckles were white where he was gripping the railings and he was shaking his head. It was strange to watch someone, especially of the Count's disposition, just open their arms and invite death in. How much courage or stupidity did it take to sacrifice oneself like that? Why? What was the point?

It was then, as Obi continued to watch Serenn's motionless body, that he felt Vader's eyes on him. He thus slowly turned his gaze upon his former Padawan and stared at him hard.

"Come, Master Kenobi!" the wild apprentice called as their eyes met, his mind clearly filled with a rush of excitement following this tremendous kill. "Let us embrace at last!"

Obi-Wan's aching limbs and disheartened state of mind seemed to fade from his consciousness as he openly accepted the challenge. He vaulted straight over the barrier into the deep pit below, skidding down the inclined edges until he reached the lower basin, and then whipped out his weapon before him. The defensive stratagem was gone - Obi-Wan Kenobi was going to fight for his master, for the Count, for Padmé, and for himself.

Vader swung his lightsabre about. "One down, one to go," he smirked.

"I don't want any quarrels with you, old friend."

"It's a little late for that, don't you think, Obi-Wan?"

Kenobi made a pained expression. "Please…" he sighed, "just stop this madness."

"The Republic was the madness," Darth snarled in return, "The Empire is sanity. Why can't you see that?"

"I can see that that Sith Lord has poisoned your mind!"

"'That Sith Lord' has saved me from your pointless drudgery," he rejoined before he allowed himself a small smile, one filled with pride. "A new and civilised age has now dawned."

Obi-Wan shook his head in disbelief. It truly was no use. "Then you have made yourself my enemy, Anakin."

Vader's grin faded to a terrible, dark glare. "We've always been enemies, my master. Now let's finish this struggle."

They both bent their knees, their eyes focused on one another, until, with two great springing leaps, they flew at each other and clashed.

The lightsabres flashed, red on blue, groaning and snarling as they ground against one another. Obi drew back then slung his blade up into another attack, which Vader blocked, then Darth tried his luck with a cleaving shot to Kenobi's waist, which was again turned aside. The two hurled their weight at one another, and their blades moved rapidly, sending zany flickers of crimson and azure light all over the casting chamber.

"You should have seen them, master," Vader boasted. "All the Jedi that I have killed. So many are dead by my sword."

Obi-Wan let the boy anger him - he didn't care any more.

"They were just no challenge. I was embarrassed to ever think that I had been a part of their degenerate order."

"You have no idea of what you've turned your back on, Anakin."

Vader's blade came whooshing down so fast that Obi struggled to block it, and the red blade was within an inch of his skin as he did so.

"That name no longer has any meaning for me!" Vader seethed.

Obi allowed himself a crooked smile. "Then why does it infuriate you so much?"

Darth roared and flung his foot up into Kenobi's stomach, sending the Jedi stumbling back.

Quickly gathering his senses, Obi leapt back onto his feet and danced into another attack.

The blades crossed, first angled down, then overhead, then thundered together at waist height, the eyes of the two competitors on one another all the time. "This shall be the end of you, my master," Vader threatened.

"Then finish it," Obi goaded him, twirling out of the lock of their weapons and inviting the boy in. "Prove yourself!"

Obi-Wan watched as he saw Vader's muscles tensing, the young man clearly preparing to make a great lunge, but then, out of the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan caught sight of something else… A quick glance revealed to him that Count Dooku, still hanging onto that thread of life, was raising his hand up toward the ceiling overhead with his fingers splayed outwards, as if to grasp something.

Kenobi's brow twitched a fraction, but he simply turned his attention back to the scene at hand. And then he worked out what was going to happen.

Obi took a step back and yelled out something - he didn't know what it was, or to whom it was addressed, he just knew that he screamed - and at that exact moment, Darth Vader flew at him, soaring across the floor with a terrific great leap, whilst, at the same time, Serenn clenched his fist and snapped the chains of one of the gigantic pitchers overhead. Obi moved back and back again as Vader flew closer and closer, and as, all the time, the canister plummeted toward them all, tumbling down rapidly, until, with a timing that only a man of the Count's ability could have executed, the pitcher caught Vader in mid-flight and knocked him to the ground, saving Obi-Wan from the assault and leaving Darth brutally injured as the canister landed on top of his legs with a firm and sickening crunch.

A terrible period of silence then ensued and Obi-Wan, despite his life having been saved, couldn't help but feel sick to his stomach. There was Lord Vader, laid before him and clawing at the floor with his hands in a desperate attempt to haul himself from out beneath the huge stone pitcher that now rested upon his legs. His face was pale and beads of sweat were rolling down his forehead - he was clearly in agony.

Obi then turned his eyes from Vader to Count Dooku. Serenn was also pale, his life clearly fading, and yet, despite his weariness, Obi-Wan could tell that the Count felt that he had done the right thing. He was confident in his judgments until the last…

Obi felt a tear roll down his face and he momentarily covered his visage with his hands as he tried to collect himself and come to terms with what was happening.

"You bastard!" Vader screamed at Serenn. "Haven't you caused me enough grief?"

Dooku stared at the boy with exasperation. "You chose this path, Anakin Skywalker," he muttered. "Now walk it."

Vader bared his teeth at the man and looked set to launch a second volley of insults at him until he heard the whirring of the consoles and the groaning of the ducts up above, and realised what was happening - the molten chambers that he had activated were about to start their task. "No…" he gasped, shaking his head and trying desperately again to free himself from under the cylinder. "You bastard, you'll kill me - you'll kill us all!"

Serenn still only grinned. "Won't that be a pretty end?"

"No! Let me go! Get me out of here! I don't want to die!" Darth ranted and raved, before he remembered, as if he could even have forgotten, that Obi-Wan was still here. He looked to the man and continued to grope at the surface in a vain attempt to pull himself closer to his former master. "Obi-Wan! Help me, please! Qui-Gon made you promise, remember? Remember when we met? On that ship over Tatooine? Remember?"

Obi-Wan peered from beneath his hand at the desperate young man and eyed him carefully.

"Obi-Wan, please!" Darth cried, tears of both fear and horror welling in his eyes. "You promised you'd train me! You promised you'd be my master! You've got to help me!"

Obi stared long and hard into the man's eyes and almost felt an essence of nostalgia wash over him.

/'What will happen to me now?'/

But he then looked to Dooku and, as that fading soul shook his head at him, he realised that the boy he trained wasn't alive any more, and that he could never get him back. There was only one thing for it… and he just hadn't the guts to go through with it. "I can't do this," Kenobi murmured to the Count as a tear rolled down his cheek and into his beard. "He's like my brother…"

Serenn could offer him no consolation, though. "Let him go, my boy…" he said plainly. "Just let him go."

Obi vigorously shook his head whilst tears continued to flow from his eyes. "I can't…" he said.

"You can do no more," Dooku quietly continued . "I know it hurts, but sometimes we have to walk away. We can't always be the hero. Don't do this for me, not even for yourself… do it for him, my son."

"No! Don't listen to him!" Vader loudly interceded, flailing more and more desperately at the floor and crying out in pain as his crushed legs refused to budge from beneath the heavy vessel. "Think what you're doing! Think what Qui-Gon would want! Think!"

Obi swallowed, still staring at Dooku, and Dooku still stared back, and they seemed to reach some kind of understanding as a result of this unvoiced exchange, something with Vader observed with horror, for he sensed that the outcome wasn't going to be in his favour. "I'm the Chosen One, damn you!" he roared in one final fleeting attempt to change the tide.

But Obi-Wan had made up his mind. With a final air of resolve, the Jedi summoned Count Dooku's lightsabre to his hand and hooked it on his belt, next to his own, before he then walked toward Serenn and took the lofty man up in his arms. He then began to walk away.

Darth's eyes widened in utter astonishment. "NO!" he yelled. "Master, think! Think what you're doing! Please! Don't choose him over me - you CAN'T choose him over me!"

Obi-Wan swallowed, feeling his throat burn with anguish as the pain of this decision, of this moment, tore his heart in two, and he openly cried as he walked away; he did not look back, though.

"THINK!" Vader continued to yell, his voice broken by tears and by rage. "Think what you're doing! For the Force's sake, THINK!"

But Obi-Wan only continued to walk away, balancing Serenn over his shoulder as he then took the single, emergency rung ladder out of the pit. And as he and the dying Count reached the safety of the platforms above, the last words Obi heard his former Padawan say to him were, "I hate you!" just as the casting unit unleashed its molten metal and it gushed down mercilessly into the pit below…

And so Darth Vader, alone and abandoned, screamed and cried whilst the burning liquid rolled from the ducts and smothered him. And Obi-Wan just walked away.

---

As the shuttle hurtled back into space, Obi made the jump to lightspeed as soon as possible before he walked numbly into the back room of the craft and fell to his knees by the side of the cot upon which Serenn was laid. The man was holding on for a far longer time then Qui-Gon had, but it was somewhat characteristic for him to do so.

Obi looked at that terrible wound through the Count's torso, seeing flashes of Master Qui-Gon in the same situation in his mind, before he then looked into Serenn's fading eyes and dropped his head onto the man's shoulder, leaning onto him as if he were all that he had left. "I failed him," he cried, "I failed Master Qui-Gon. It was all he asked me to do, all he had wanted me to do, and I failed him…"

Dooku's remaining hand came up to rest weakly upon the back of Kenobi's head; "You have not failed him, Obi-Wan," the Count murmured. "He knows that you haven't. He knows that he was wrong."

Obi gradually drew his head away, his breaths coming thick and fast from his chest, and he looked into Serenn's eyes one last time, unable to prevent his brow from contracting slightly.

"And if he doesn't know," Serenn added with a faint smile, "then I shall tell him when I get there."

He had just enough strength to then give Obi-Wan's face a brief, gentle stroke before, and at long last, his final breath passed from his lips, and his body fell still.

Kenobi stared at the lifeless Count for some time, lightly running his own fingers over where Serenn had just touched him, before he then swallowed and returned to the cockpit.

TBC…