Author notes: Thanks everyone, for reading and for the replies! Although this story is already finished I love getting feedback and learning more about what parts you liked best.
On the specific questions:
I wouldn't say the end is right around the corner, exactly. You've got 4 more chapters after this one. :)
Have we seen the last of Dormé? Well, would you be too disappointed if I said yes?
Is there a completed version archived anywhere? No, not in this final form. There is a rough version posted in its entirety at fanfiction forum, but it is an old thread and probably well buried. My username is the same there, though, and there is a link to the fic in my profile.
About Canon continuity - when I wrote this story originally, the idea was to provide a canon-true bridge between Ep II & Ep III. Now that Ep III is out, I hopeNR still works, but I can't make any promises because I honestly haven't been considering Ep III in the re-editing process.I think if I fell into that well of trying to write backwards from Ep III, I'd never escape it. As it is I already wish I'd includedArtoo :)
Chapter 8
Anakin ran into the room barely a minute behind his nemesis, Obi-Wan close on his heels. He slid to a stop just in time to see Dooku send his wife hurtling into the throne platform. A second girl quickly followed the same arc. Neither moved.
He felt a surge of fury as Dooku started towards the helpless women. With great effort he managed to rein it in, knowing he couldn't afford to lose control this time, not with Padmé's life and Dooku's freedom both at stake. Instinctively he stretched out his hand, drew on the Force and pulled at the Sith Lord with all his might.
The Count staggered backwards but remained on his feet, turning to face Anakin and Obi-Wan. He didn't seem to realize that Anakin had been the one to jerk him to a dead stop.
"Your presence here is proving troublesome, Kenobi." Dooku intoned. His irritation was evident as he bit off each word. "Please join the Senator in taking a seat!" He extended his arm and blue lightning crackled from his fingertips, shooting across the room at Obi-Wan.
Startled by the suddenness of the attack, Kenobi didn't have time to re-ignite his lightsaber before waves of electricity coursed through his body. He stumbled backward under the fiery onslaught.
Anakin well remembered the mind-numbing agony that accompanied those Force-lightning bolts. It was a testament to his master's fortitude that he hadn't dropped instantly from the initial blast. Through their bond he could feel Obi-Wan weakening, reeling under the vicious assault.
Drawing on his own mental strength, Anakin did his best to crawl into Obi-Wan's mind to shore up his ebbing resistance. He could feel the tingling dark electricity almost as if it raced through his own body. Suddenly he sensed his master reaching back to him through their Force bond. His mind clawed at Anakin's, seeking any life preserver that might keep him from drowning in the evil power coursing through him. With surprise, Anakin felt Obi-Wan begin to rally as he slowly gathered strength to repel the Sith Lord's attack.
Dooku must have sensed their connection because he immediately stepped forward and, with a wave of his hand, sent a mighty Force push towards Kenobi. The unexpected strength of it pitched the already overwhelmed Jedi back into the wall where he lay motionless.
With effort Anakin managed to maintain their mental bond. Obi-Wan was still conscious, but stunned. It would be a while before his tortured muscles could recover to the point that he could move.
Reluctantly Anakin severed their bond. There was nothing they could do to help each other now. Obi-Wan would need what strength he had to fight off the lingering effects of the lightning and Anakin knew his focus had to be solely on Dooku if they were all going to survive.
He glanced back to the Count only to see the Dark Lord striding towards Padmé's still form. It had worked once, so he tried again, using the Force to pull the man back with all the strength he could muster.
Once again Dooku was brought up short. He turned to face Anakin, surprise on his noble face.
"Well padawan, it seems you've learned a bit since last we met." He stepped slowly towards Anakin. "Not that it matters. My skills are still far superior to yours."
"We'll see who is the more powerful, old man!" Anakin's scorn was obvious as his stance became predatory. His crystal-blue eyes blazed with cold fire, never wavering from the piercing gaze of his enemy.
"Yes, my boy." Dooku smiled broadly. "Hold tightly to your anger! It will give you more power than you can possibly imagine." His voice lowered to a compelling hiss. "You hate me, don't you? For Geonosis?"
Anakin remained silent, staring at Dooku from under dark brows, his mouth set in an grim, unyielding line. It would have been pointless to deny what was obvious and true.
"You need not answer." Dooku jeered. "It flows from you in waves even a youngling couldn't miss." His tone turned conversational, almost conspiratorial. "It truly is a shame you cling to your hypocrisy. It forces us to face each other as adversaries." The Count sighed with mock regret. "As allies we would be invincible."
"With the right teaching, Skywalker, you could surpass even your own expectations." Dooku stopped with several meters between them. "You can choose not to listen, but if you do you will remain helpless against attacks such as this!" His hand shot out from under his cloak, electricity pulsing once again from his fingertips.
Anakin stretched his palm towards Dooku, using every ounce of his will to pull that malevolent energy to one focal point. The lightning drew towards his hand as if magnetized, coiling there in a hot bright blue ball. Master Yoda had been reluctant to teach him this at first, but had ultimately given in to his endless requests. Still, even with constant practice, he had yet to master casting the lighting back at his opponent. He threw the swirling mass of energy aside and both men recoiled as it exploded against the rock wall in a shower of dust and debris.
Anakin felt the stunned surprise of both other Force users in the room. Obi-Wan's was tinged with pride and a hint of awe. Dooku's held only an anger that matched his own. He allowed the barest hint of amusement to curl his lip. The expression was not lost on his opponent.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Padmé move. The knowledge strengthened him even as he pushed his awareness of her to a dark corner of his mind. Their connection had to remain locked safely away where Dooku couldn't exploit it.
"Surprised?" He asked, more to distract Dooku from Padmé than to antagonize him. "I didn't feel helpless."
The Count once again began stepping towards him, his anger quickly managed and masked. "Indeed you are powerful, young apprentice. My former master doesn't often pass on that particular trick. Master Yoda must feel you have great promise if he is willing to impart such ancient secrets."
Probably more annoying than promising, Anakin thought to himself, refusing to allow Dooku to lead him into comfortable dialogue. He was familiar with the former Jedi's powers of persuasion. The less talking he allowed the old man to do, the better. It was time to let their lightsabers speak for them.
Anakin drew his weapon, holding it lightly in one hand as he ignited it. The saber hummed to life as soft blue light filled the room. Deliberately he refrained from adopting any particular stance, preferring instead to let Dooku set the style of the duel.
The Count closed the distance between them, bringing himself into the range of Anakin's saber before slowly and deliberately lighting his own. The blade extended slowly, flickering with an ominous scarlet hue.
"If your skills with a lightsaber have grown along with your knowledge of the Force, this should prove most interesting."
"I was just thinking the same thing." Anakin shot back, determined that this time Dooku would not undermine his confidence.
The older man's authoritarian air of indifference was back in place, but Anakin recognized the mask for what it was even as he heard him ask, "Are you sure you wouldn't like an extra blade?"
The needling remark about their previous engagement pricked a nerve, forcing Anakin to quell an almost overpowering urge to strike the first blow. "No." He forced the word out from behind clenched teeth. "I can kill you with one sword just as easily as two."
Dooku raised an eyebrow, but inclined his head courteously.
Slowly they circled each other, their crimson and azure light blades combining to cast an eerie purple glow over the room.
From his vantage point near the door Obi-Wan listened intently, watching the exchange between his apprentice and the Count of Serenno.
It was beyond his comprehension that he'd overlooked Dooku's ability to pervert the Force into lightning. He cursed the stupidity of not being ready for such an attack. The past year of field commanding had sharpened his aim and his tactical skills but he grudgingly admitted it had dulled his Jedi perception.
The hot agony of electrocution had faded to a buzzing numbness in his muscles. Even now the feeling was gradually returning to his limbs, bringing with it a prickly discomfort. He winced as he tentatively tried to move his legs.
One thing Obi-Wan knew for certain, Anakin's antipathy for the man he now faced was as boundless as Dooku's was for the Jedi. In fact, it had come as no surprise when Dooku hadn't denied a connection to the Sith.
The possibility of such a tie was one he and Master Yoda had discussed after Geonosis. While the Count's corruption there had been obvious, they had both been hesitant to label him without confirmation. There were no ties between Dooku and the mysterious Sith warrior killed all those years ago here on Naboo, especially given that Dooku had still been among the Jedi at that time.
So much about that day was still unclear in Obi-Wan's mind but one critical point was undeniable. Facing down Qui-Gon's killer moments after his death had been as close as Obi-Wan had ever come to succumbing to the dark side of the Force. That sinister pull, the feeling of unbelievable power it granted was something he would never forget. He feared for his apprentice now. If Dooku truly was a Sith, then Anakin would soon feel that same conflict – would be forced to face down the shadows within himself.
He knew a moment of fear for his apprentice, for the darkness he'd sometimes sensed in Anakin. The anger, the rage and bitterness after his mother's death had been so much with him this past year and a half. If Dooku was perceptive he could use those feelings to his advantage, to draw Anakin away from the light. It was a choice all padawans ultimately faced, a trial by fire.
So far Anakin was in control of his darker feelings, but Obi-Wan could sense his constant struggle for equilibrium. The fury in his heart warred with the goodness, waiting for a chance to leap to the forefront and take command.
He watched as Jedi Padawan and Sith Lord began to circle each other, lightsabers at the ready.
Dooku took the first swing, a neat underhanded sweep of his blade that Anakin parried easily. More strikes were traded in efficient flashes of red and blue. Energy blades hummed through the air, blazing wildly as they connected.
Something about the way the Count was moving tugged at Obi-Wan's memory. It seemed almost contrived, as if he was testing Anakin, using complicated footwork drills and classic attack patterns.
Dooku had once given saber instruction to padawan learners at the Temple. Obi-Wan had been only fourteen at the time, but he remembered those lessons. Qui-Gon's former master was a ruthless seeker of perfection. No matter how good a student was, Dooku would inevitably escalate his attack and cause them to miss a parry, at which point he would deliver a scathing criticism. He'd felt the lash of those corrections many a time. Watching his own protégé now, he felt a rush of pride as Anakin answered each slash and thrust flawlessly, countering each classic maneuver with its textbook response.
Had circumstances been different, had the stakes been less high, Obi-Wan might even have been amused. Dooku was obviously holding back, but Anakin was too. In fact, his apprentice seemed content for the moment to play the older man's game. Obi-Wan recognized the tactic. He'd taught it to Anakin himself: take any opportunity to measure your adversary, to become familiar with his style, his speed, his reach, and the angle of his attack.
It was a smart choice, given Dooku's apparent disinclination to fully engage in the battle, but it wouldn't work for long. For one thing, it required infinite patience – not a trait Anakin possessed in abundance.
Even so, Dooku would find he was facing a far more powerful foe than the overeager boy he'd met on Geonosis. Anakin had made certain of it in the interim, honing his skills with a single-minded ferocity that had impressed the members of the Council even as it gave them cause for concern. The transformation he'd undergone had been nothing short of amazing and the proof of it was here, now, before Obi-Wan's eyes.
At this stage the duel was almost beautiful in its simplicity – a dance of strike and counterstrike. The two seemed effortlessly matched with Anakin more than holding his own. Still, Obi-Wan had seen this before. He knew the balance could shift. The intensity could escalate in an instant.
He glanced sidelong at the royal dais. Senator Amidala and the other girl were awake now, edging slowly towards the back corner. Anakin and Dooku were absorbed in their conflict. Likely they wouldn't notice if he made his way over there as well. He could see to it that the Senator and her companion made it to safety. It would give his limbs a chance to fully recover in the event that Anakin needed assistance.
Shaking off the lingering mental and physical sluggishness, he started working his way around the perimeter of the room.
Anakin Skywalker was bored.
Dooku's style thus far had been amazingly predictable, nothing like the fight he'd replayed in his head countless times since Geonosis. This was definitely not the duel he imagined would take place when they met again. He'd had training sessions more challenging than this.
Determined to use the lull to his advantage he maintained a solid defense, meticulously noting the distance Dooku maintained and watching the man's footwork for any hint of repeating patterns.
For reasons known only to himself, the Count appeared to be stringing him along. He would vary his style from time to time, but his offense was one any mid-level padawan could counter.
Impatience swelled in Anakin. Dooku already knew he was no youngling to be toyed with. It was time to remind him of that fact.
He suddenly reversed direction, forcing Dooku to respond in kind, and then took the initiative with a combination of solid blows - up to Dooku's face, in to his abdomen, down to his leg. Dooku responded with ease, blocking the shots cleanly before spinning aside.
Anakin noted the older man's precision and timing with admiration. He might despise the former Jedi, but his grace and skill were undeniable and worthy of appreciation.
He fought the urge to mirror Dooku's stance. Normally he wouldn't miss the chance to mimic his opponent's own style. It was a tactic that worked well on the practice floor, but it wasn't likely to work here today. His underestimation of Dooku on that score had been his failing during their last encounter.
Anakin pressed again with a lethal combination. Dooku parried and returned with several well-placed strikes of his own. Anakin stepped back, deliberately overextending to allow his enemy to regain the upper hand.
Dooku's eyes lit with pleasure at Anakin's retreat. The Sith Lord stepped in to capitalize with strikes that were ever faster. Time after time their blades met, glowing brighter as they collided, each instance sending a new shower of sparks into the air.
This time, Anakin thought, he wouldn't try to beat the Count at his own game. Instead, he would introduce Dooku to a few of his own rules. The archaic styles had weaknesses and limitations, all of which Master Windu had shown him time and again. The indomitable Jedi Master was fond of saying that the best defense was a solid offense, especially against the lighter, quicker styles.
Without warning Anakin pressed forward, doubling his speed as he sought to re-establish dominance. His blows came in quick succession, faster and faster. With decisive slashes he cut off the Count's swift thrusts, delivering his own attack with astonishing effectiveness.
Dooku retreated under the onslaught, seeking to regroup. He reached for and missed a low block. When Anakin's blue blade singed his cloth-covered thigh the Sith Lord howled in pain and fury. He lashed out with renewed intensity, his movements barely hindered by the burn on his leg.
Anakin only smiled and met the challenge eagerly.
Upon regaining consciousness Padmé lay motionless on the dais. Her eyes were helplessly locked on the two warriors now engaged in beautiful and deadly combat. One wrong step, one failed deflection and her husband would die. The realization stunned her into immobility. She could do little more than draw shallow breaths in a desperate attempt to ease the growing tightness in her chest.
A rough shake from Sabé and the accompanying stab of pain from shoulder to fingertips served as a brutal reminder that there was more work to do.
"Padmé!" Her friend whispered urgently, "we've got to get Her Majesty to safety!"
Only the knowledge that Naboo's future depended on her ability to act gave her the strength to look away. She rose from the floor, struggling with the urge to let her gaze slip back to the duel. Dooku was a vicious and powerful enemy and she had no doubt that Anakin fought for his life. The knowledge that he could be lost to her in an instant settled coldly in the pit of her stomach.
She forced herself to stay focused and scanned the room for the laser rifle she'd been holding before Dooku sent her flying. The gathering gloom and shifting shadows made the task almost impossible, but she finally found it lying close to the corner alcove.
Sabé joined her after locating her own weapon and the two of them hovered indecisively near the door to the secret room. They needed to be sure they could get the Queen to safety before reopening the chamber. So far, the only card in their favor was the fact that Dooku hadn't appeared to recognize Queen Jamillia among his captives.
Just then a gruff baritone spoke from behind them. "Senator Amidala!"
Both women turned to see Obi-Wan Kenobi coming towards them out of the darkness.
"Master Kenobi!" Padmé returned the Jedi's greeting, giving him a quick but exuberant hug. "You did come!"
The affectionate breach of protocol obviously made Obi-Wan uncomfortable, but he returned her embrace nonetheless, using the physical contact as an excuse to turn her toward the nearest exit. He cleared his throat. "Senator, we've got to get you out of here!"
Padmé pulled free of his encircling arm. "No, wait! The Queen is alive! She's the one we need to save!"
"Her Majesty?" Steel-blue eyes widened as he took in the import of Padmé's statement.
"Yes, we found her. She's waiting in a hidden chamber behind that wall!" There was no mistaking the trace of desperation in Padmé's voice. "Her escape must be our first priority! I'm sure you understand…"
Comprehension and relief dawned on the Jedi's face. "Of course, m'lady! It appears Anakin's warning and our arrival were timely indeed if Naboo's monarch can still be saved."
Padmé turned to the young woman standing next to her. "Master Obi-Wan, this is Sabé, my very good friend. You might remember her. She was my decoy all those years ago on our flight to Coruscant."
"Ah yes, Sabé." Obi-Wan turned to greet the woman beside them. Smiling slightly, he inclined his head in a courtly gesture. "I remember the other 'Amidala' very well. Stubborn and brave, as I recall." The words were teasing, but there was respect and a hint of admiration in his eyes.
Sabé gave an appropriately polite response, but Padmé could've sworn her usually unflappable friend had actually blushed under the Jedi's scrutiny. She stepped between them, waving Obi-Wan toward the secret panel. "We wanted an exit plan before we opened the chamber."
"Good thinking." he confirmed, "Anakin's flight wing made short work of the Federation fighters, so I'm certain the Palace hangar bay is clear by now."
Padmé considered the new information as she pressed the concealed release button on the wall. "So we head for what's left of the hangar bay?"
Kenobi nodded. "Getting the Queen out of the palace requires a ship that can get her off-world and up to the orbiting Republic command ship." Padmé heard his unspoken question.
"Dormé took the last ship I know how to fly," she explained, "but there should still be a shuttlecraft. Jedi can fly anything, right?"
"I don't think a shuttle will present too great a challenge for me." Obi-Wan smiled gamely as the wall compartment slid open.
Inside the small concrete cell were two young Naboo women. One struggled to support an unconscious officer while the other leveled a blaster rifle suspiciously on Obi-Wan. When they saw Padmé their distrust melted into obvious relief.
Obi-Wan glanced apprehensively at the wounded man, but before he could say anything Padmé explained that Danel's rescue was the Queen's priority. The taller of the two handmaidens gave a commanding nod in the affirmative, the small imperious gesture confirming for Obi-Wan which of the two women was the reigning monarch of Naboo.
With four sets of determined brown eyes focused on him Obi-Wan must have decided it would not be expedient to argue. He motioned for Sabé to switch positions with the royal 'handmaiden' and she did so quickly, without hesitation. Padmé didn't question the switch either. There was no doubt that Jamillia would be safer with a Jedi bodyguard.
With the now unprotected Queen tucked safely under his own arm, Obi-Wan nodded to everyone. Padmé understood his silent message. It was time to make a run for the hangar bay. To Noalé and Sabé, who were supporting the unconscious Danel, he muttered, "Do the best you can to keep up. If you fall behind I'll come back for you as soon as Her Majesty is safely on board the shuttle." They nodded in agreement.
Obi-Wan spared one last glance back at Anakin just as his padawan's blade slashed into the Count's off-side leg. Dooku's snarl of pain echoed off the walls; his intensity and speed escalated instantly.
At the outraged cry every eye in the room turned toward the combatants. Padmé gasped audibly, watching as Anakin met the accelerated attack head-on. Surely he wasn't actually grinning at his opponent!
Obi-Wan must have sensed her agitation, including the fact that Anakin was at the heart of it.
"Come, m'lady!" Obi-Wan spoke forcefully, waving her toward the exit. "Anakin will be fine!" She prayed that having Obi-Wan speak the words would make it so. Still, she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from the duel. "Please, Senator, if I can feel your fear there is a chance he can too! Your presence is a distraction he doesn't need!"
The admonishment got through as nothing else could have. She would leave immediately if there was even a small chance that her presence would put her husband at greater risk. Taking one last look she focused all her love toward Anakin in her best Force-blind mental hug. If the Jedi beside her felt the intense flood of emotion toward his padawan he didn't acknowledge it.
Turning, Padmé sprinted toward the hangar bay, running as if her planet's future and her husband's life depended on it. Indeed, they did. She could hear Obi-Wan and the Queen following and hoped the others weren't far behind.