II: Changeling
Dooku
just prior
The first thought that struck Dooku's was how much smaller the house was than he remembered it as being. He recalled a cavernous place a small boy could easily get lost in, or lose himself, if he wished. The jaded eyes of an older Dooku now saw merely a mansion. Elegant, but not as large or luxurious as some of the galactic palaces he'd been in. Fortunately, not as tacky either.
"I see you know where you're going," Indrea said, after Dooku outpaced him. Dooku paused, looked down the stairs they were climbing, and nodded slightly at him. He should probably slow down, but he was having a hard time integrating past and present and getting the residual emotions this place brought out in him under control.
The great double doors to the Execsar's office stood before them. He'd shed everybody in the group following him but Indrea, who opened the door for him and followed after. The room was softly lit, and panelled in brown wood. Dooku walked to the center of the room and regarded the man in front of him.
Indagren looked awful. His skin looked like splotched paper, and he could barely lift his head. Beside Dooku, Indrea bowed his head in deep respect. Dooku almost did the same, but remembered he was a Jedi now. Indagren had to acknowledge that.
"Scion mine," the ruler of Serenno finally whispered, when it became clear that Dooku would not yield to him. "I wondered if you would come."
"I am here," Dooku said, moving closer so that he would not miss a word.
He heard nothing but labored breathing for a few seconds, and then the Execsar spoke again. "I wondered, sometimes, if you were lost to us. My sister came back. The others all came back. It is a rare, rare thing to be taken by the Jedi, rarer still to be chosen to become one. You would be a great asset to our world. Yet we heard no word. We sent your share of earnings to the Temple - yet still we heard no word. And then you sent it back. What did you mean by this?"
Dooku sighed. "The Jedi thought it wise to remove the memories of my life here. I was old when I was taken, and my memories were clear. I did not discover the payments made in my name until a few years ago. I then thought to search for such mental tampering and found it."
"So your dividends did not go to you."
"Of course not. Jedi do not have personal wealth."
"Then where did they go?"
"The Council is the collective caretaker of the wealth of the Jedi. They were...spent."
"Wisely?"
"No."
"Ah. So you defied your Council and donated your portion back to the Corporation. An interesting act. It brought you back to my attention." Indagren's head lolled back, and the hoverchair adjusted to support it, so that their eyes met again. "You trust me more than your masters. That is also interesting."
Dooku inclined his head slightly, unsure of what to say. He wasn't certain if Indagren's observation was truth, and that disturbed him..
"I am dying, child," Indagren continued, his speech slurring slightly. "Indrea has been doing most of my work for years. Yet he does not have the...spark... to rule the decision cascade. I have made my will clear that he is to be my successor, but that will not be enough. The Contessa is about to make her move."
The other man in the room turned to Dooku. "Her cult of personality is strong enough that I will have to step aside when the time comes. We've known this for years now. She is clever, and ruthless in her desire to claim what she thinks is her birthright. Our firmest supporters, long members of our cohort, are wavering. Everyone knows Indagren is fading."
"She, too, is an asset to the world." Indagren said. "But she cannot be allowed to become Execsar. Not merely for our sake, but for hers."
"I am a Jedi," Dooku said, sensing where the conversation was going and deciding now was the time to voice his objection. "I am a man not of your cohort, to add my voice to yours. I am not of any cohort. In fact - and you know this very well as you both were there - I am not even di Serenn. Interfering in this internal political matter is so far beyond my mandate that it is insulting that you ask it of me."
"And if I named it treason?" Indagren asked.
"Put in a request for assistance to the Council. You cannot just...commandeer me."
"I don't want the Jedi Council," Indagren said. "I want you."
Dooku crossed his arms. "I am here. My presence in this moment is all I will allow you to demand of me, Execsar."
Indrea walked over to the desk. "I thought you'd jump at the chance to prove yourself against her."
"The life of a Jedi is full of sacrifices," Dooku replied coldly.
"Hnn. And now we come to it." Indagren's voice was a frail echo of how Dooku remembered it, but there was still that deep edge that thousands of Serenni had obeyed without question.
Dooku glanced back at him, feeling irrationally unbalanced. "I am a Jedi, a full Knight with an apprentice of my own. In a handful of years I will be a Master. I was given to the Order. You cannot demand me back now that it suits you."
"Can't we?" Indrea said. "All our gifts serve Serenno - mine and the Execsar's and Anare's and Singer Andem's - and the talents of every child and cohortman. You've felt the deep air close over you again. This world will always call you home."
Dooku's hand slammed down on Indagren's desk without warning, with a sharp retort that both of the other men flinched at. "The Force is not a gift. Not for one such as I. It is a responsibility, and one so enormous that I sometimes think I am not equal to it. I have to live up to that. I have to find what purpose I am meant for. The greatest Jedi, Execsar, understand they are only instruments. I could arrange to be the appointed Guardian of this sector, yes. It would be well within my powers - but it would not challenge me. I am called to more. The Force gave of itself to me, and I have to prove myself worthy of that. I am the most powerful Jedi that has been born to the Republic in twenty generations. To waste my talents here would be to condemn everyone my talents could have saved in the greater galaxy to death, every injustice I could have righted to cruelty. I do not allow the avoidance of a Jedi's responsibilities in my apprentice, and I will never, never allow it in myself."
"Pride!" Indagren said, and his voice rose above a whisper for the first time with obvious effort. His deep voice sounded rough and ill-used. "You are a driven man, Idis-my-child. Perhaps you have been called to something beyond the caretakership of our little world. Yet you came back."
The dying man's accusation stung - it was not the first time it had been leveled. And it was not without truth, either. Dooku was honest enough to admit that to himself. He sighed, and touched the Force, felt it flowing out of Indagren and into oblivion even as they spoke.
"Give me your hand." The Execsar's voice fell back to a whisper.
Dooku hesitated, then reached across the desk. The great man's hand was shaking, but managed to clasp his own. Something rounded and heavy passed from the Execsar's palm to his, before the age-spotted hand drew back.
"A gift, Jedi."
"I am not permitted possessions."
"It is not a possession," Indagren said, looking up at his eyes. His drawn and wrinkled face was smiling ever-so-slightly. "It is a responsibility. And it is yours whether you accept it or not."
Dooku looked down at it. The object was a woman's signet ring, platinum, ancient and well-worn. It bore the seal of Serenno, and on the inside, the royal arms of Alderaan. It dated, no doubt, from the time Serenno had been a colony of that world.
He closed his eyes, and his fingers curled around the ring almost unthinkingly. "That's cheating," he said.
After he left Indagren and Indrea, he drifted through the hallways, finding Qui-Gon effortlessly. He frowned and picked up his pace as he felt the boy was in distress. When he came to the room they had been assigned, he found it occupied. He silently opened the door, seeing four young ladies in the process of harassing his apprentice. Said apprentice was now on the floor in a confused heap, his Padawan braid inexpertly rewoven with pink ribbons.
Dooku blinked.
Automatically he stepped in and took control of the situation. Three of the girls were easy to scare off, but the woman who had been in charge was less easily evicted. She was younger than he - he didn't know her name, but he would learn it before they met again, and she would regret this.
Finally, the room was empty. Dooku walked back to the door, closing it. He turned back towards his apprentice. "Somebody's popular today."
Qui-Gon picked himself off the floor and muttered "Tell me about it."
"Do you want to tell me what just happened?" Dooku did not allow himself to smile.
Qui-Gon appeared to think about that. "Not really." His hand stole through his hair, and he made a face when he encountered the ribbons. "I look ridiculous, don't I."
A nod. "Do you know who the cohort-leader there was?" Dooku asked. He thought about clarifying, as he was settling into Serenni patterns of thought that Qui-Gon might not be able to follow. But his apprentice caught his drift.
"The girl in charge was called Astel. She ambushed me in the hallway. I think the one who met me at the landing pad set it up. Her name was...Arde? Started with an 'a', anyway. I don't see how anyone can tell these people apart."
"...ah." Dooku said. That second cousin. Things became slightly clearer. "They all start with 'a', by the way. It's the local female name-marker. Like 'i' for the men. That was Indrea's daughter Arde, yes."
"Do you know this Astel?"
"The name. She is...not inconsequential, but not a significant player."
Qui-Gon blinked. "A significant player in what? And how well do you know these people? This is your family, right?"
Dooku suppressed a sigh. Of course Qui-Gon would pick that up. "I don't have a family. I am Jedi."
"Well...everyone looks exactly the same and they sort of feel the same and they all do the thing you do and it's really...kind of...alarming. What am I supposed to think here?"
"The thing?" Dooku raised an eyebrow, trying to deflect Qui-Gon's line of questioning.
Qui-Gon waved his hands. "The thing. With the eyes and the face and the voice and...it's hard to explain."
"I see," Dooku said blandly.
Qui-Gon made a face, then looked at him with an I'm sort of obliged to say this expression. "You know, I have the feeling the Council wouldn't be happy if they knew what you were up to."
Which was perfectly true, but irrelevant. "The Council should spend their time sorting out that trade dispute that's starving the rimward side of the Corellian Trade Spine and learn to trust my judgment. Given it's better than theirs."
Qui-Gon teased a ribbon out of his hair. Dooku felt the outburst building a few seconds before Qui-Gon turned to him and snapped, "Master, for once could you tell me what is going on?"
Dooku thought about how to answer that. He settled on honesty. "I'm not entirely certain." He turned the lights to their dimmest before settling on one bed. Drawing his knees to his chest, he sank into meditation, his hand still gripping the platinum ring.
Qui-Gon had worked much of the night. One of his assignments was finished and had been placed on a side table for review when Dooku brought himself out of his meditative state. That was how the pair of them usually worked; Qui-Gon had the early evenings to himself until Dooku woke, usually around midnight. It was a rhythm of life shaped by their own preferences and the fact that they would otherwise drive each other crazy. It had also saved their lives at least twice.
Normally Dooku allowed himself six hours of meditation, but six stretched to ten as his unconscious mind had integrated the few shreds of information he had into some semblance of a plan. Qui-Gon must have been worried, but not obviously not worried enough to wake him up. He rarely ran over - it was a lapse in self-discipline.
The short Serenni night was nearly over, and Dooku devoted the hour or two until the day began in earnest to research. The voter rolls were a treasure trove of information, but mostly about names and faces. More important data about power relationships and cohorts was harder to come by.
Qui-Gon's snoring stopped. The boy rolled over. "I brought over our effects," he said, before disappearing into the refresher.
"I noticed, thank you." Dooku had been too preoccupied to arrange for that vital piece of logistics, but, well, that was what apprentices were for. He stripped down out of his robes and started stretching, waiting for Qui-Gon to finish.
Soon enough Qui-Gon reappeared, finishing up his braid. One of those girls yesterday had fiddled with it enough that it needed to be completely redone. Probably Arde, and she could almost certainly be blamed for the ribbons too. "What now?" Qui-Gon asked.
"Get dressed," Dooku said. "Then breakfast." He must have let a shadow of his own apprehension escape, because Qui-Gon looked up sharply.
"Breakfast with who?"
"Everybody." Well, nearly everybody that mattered and then some. The population of the great house was about fifty, and they all came together for morning meal.
They came early to the great hall. Dooku pointed Qui-Gon to the children's table where a place for him had been set, with the explanation that Astel probably wouldn't harass him there. Though really, that girl should be the least of his worries. Other Serenni of the blood were far more dangerous, and Dooku wanted to make it clear his apprentice was off-limits. The near-circular arc of the high table was only just starting to fill. Dooku stopped in front of it and looked around, noting the positions that were reflective of status in the family. As guest, his seat was set opposite the Execsar's chair. Indrea would be on the Execsar's right, Contessa Anare on his left.
Dooku smiled slowly. Most of the table was still empty, and so he wandered around the table and took a seat two to Indagren's left. He had been attracting curious glances before - those looks were becoming a lot more calculating as people assessed the implications. He noted Astel coming in with her parents. The staff came out to set the serving dishes before taking their seats at the bases of the arc.
The hour chimed, and the Contessa came in. She was not somebody whose face Dooku had needed to look up. By art or craft, she looked much the same as she had when they had last seen each other. Harsher, perhaps, as the years had worn on her. And cold-eyed. She stopped in the doorway, and looked at him. He met her gaze.
"I see we have a guest," she said as she walked up, surrounded by her party. Her low alto carried across the room. "A stranger to this house and our customs."
She knew perfectly well who he was, and must have some idea of what he was up to. He said nothing. Finally the Contessa murmured, "We will forgive your ignorance, then," and motioned for the arc to fill in around him. Dooku had displaced Anare's daughter Amlur, quite on purpose. The room was nearly full now, but Dooku's mental count of people who should have been here was still short ten.
However, only eight more places had been set. As Indrea finally made his appearance with his family, it clicked. The missing youths must be going through the Serenni rite of passage.
The minutes passed. Dooku ignored the Contessa, and she ignored him back. Indrea, his wife, and three of their five children took their places to fill out the arc. His youngest girl, Arde, ran over to the children's table, much to Qui-Gon's dismay. The fifth was almost certainly out in the deep lands.
Indrea cleared his throat. "Execsar Indagren went into a coma late last evening. His physician is with him, but he is not expected to recover."
There was a soft murmur, and most of the table bowed their heads. Dooku did immediately, and after a moment he saw Qui-Gon copy him. Even the Contessa gave the dying man this respect.
But politics waited for no man. She looked up, speared Indrea with her gaze and asked, "Why was I not told immediately?" Her voice was not gentle, and Dooku tasted her anger in the air.
Indrea frowned. "The Execsar asked that it be announced at breakfast."
There were murmurs at that. "How terribly convenient of him to inform you beforehand."
"This day has been coming. He has made all his wishes clear, Anare."
"He tells you. He writes nothing down. Perhaps his mind succumbed to his illness before his body ever did."
The tension at the table rose. Indrea was almost speechless. "You dare?"
"You cannot hide behind words forever, cousin Indrea," the Contessa said. "The will of the people will be done." She looked up and raised her voice. "The day is broken."
Point to Anare. She'd seized the Execsar's role in the meal-ritual, and from the look on Indrea's face he knew he'd lost ground. Her insult to the Execsar and Indrea would not convert any to her cause, but she had enough support already that the planet would follow her. Dooku frowned thoughtfully.
The meal began. General courtesy in passing plates around broke down in the area between Dooku and Indrea, but the food available was enough that it wasn't an issue.
Conversations slowly sprang up again as people began to finish, though the real political maneuvering wouldn't start until the 'other side' was not there to eavesdrop.
Though perhaps I am wrong about that, Dooku thought as the Contessa glanced over the Execsar's empty seat to Indrea. "You were the last person the Execsar spoke to, then."
"No," Indrea said. "I was not. He spoke last to Idis."
"There is none by that name." Anare said.
"Nevertheless, he was there," Indrea said, sounding amused.
"You must admit the circumstances and timing are at the least...suspicious." Anare turned to her left. "Did you kill him, then, guest?"
That was it. Dooku's resolve not to be drawn into a pointless argument withered right there in deep insult. Looking up, he smiled thinly, "I can't imagine he'd import an assassin, if he was so inclined. You're perfectly qualified."
"It speaks!" Anare said, pointing a fork at him. "But it is already being tiresome."
"Perfectly qualified." Dooku repeated. He wasn't four anymore, and his anger was under control. He raised an eyebrow and glanced across to the man he'd pegged as her latest...consort. "After all, an assassin is just another kind of whore." Indrea raised both his eyebrows - other conversations were dying down as the confrontation that had been inevitable since the moment she walked in the room swirled into full battle.
"You were such a horrible little boy," the Contessa said, unphased and sipping at her tea. "I see the Jedi haven't beaten that out of you either."
She has no power over you. Dooku told himself, but felt remembered anger and ancient humiliations rise. He had control of his body language, mostly - but Qui-Gon had to have picked that up. The boy was very sharp when he applied himself. You are better than this. Be an example to your apprentice. That mantra had served him well elsewhere. But here he was not a Jedi, even if he was not that little boy either.
"I saw through you when I was three, Anare," he said, instead of going for her throat.
"We had such high expectations of you," the Contessa replied. "Such a pity." She stood, working her way around the table. Dooku frowned slightly, his intuition prickling - and tensed when she unexpectedly stopped at the children's table.
"Qui-Gon Jinn," she said, intonation perfect. Qui-Gon had already been watching her surreptitiously. He twitched a little when she suddenly addressed him.
"Yes, er...I'm afraid we haven't been introduced." Qui-Gon's Coruscant accent stood out just as badly as Dooku's did.
"Contessa Anare di Serenn."
"Pleased to meet you," Qui-Gon said carefully, sneaking a glance up at Dooku. Dooku did not let his face betray anything - he was close to furious, but damned if he'd show it. He concentrated on calming his emotions. Perhaps it was true that the easiest way to get to him was through his apprentice, but intelligent people usually realized it was not the wisest way. Dooku took his responsibility to defend Qui-Gon very seriously indeed.
"Are you busy this morning?" Anare asked.
"I...don't know yet."
The Contessa put one hand on her hip and smiled brightly at him. "While your master is being terribly rude, you are a guest in my house. I would be pleased to show you around." It sounded like more of an order than an offer.
Qui-Gon looked at her, then glanced up at Dooku nervously for a second. Dooku was still.
"Um...all right then," Qui-Gon said, seeming to feel the expectations of the room weighing on him. Though maybe it was just his natural talent for getting himself in trouble at work again. Dooku did not allow himself to scowl as he watched his apprentice follow her out of the room.
Breakfast broke up in Contessa Anare's absence. Dooku debated tracking the pair of them down, but finally decided it wouldn't help. Instead he went to the library. There was something calming about the presence of so many actual books. He knew the local runes used for proper names, but he'd never had to learn how they were classified in a library setting. Unwilling to ask for help or resort to the catalog, it took him half an hour to find the sixty-volume first edition of Flora of Serenno in one of the ancient stacks. He took the one he thought was what he wanted, and then downloaded the electronic version of the latest revision of the series onto datapad in case he was wrong. The librarian eyed him when he signed for the book. While it was nearly nine-hundred years old and not strictly speaking in general circulation, it was Serenni manufacture and practically indestructible. She didn't try to stop him from taking the book to his room, which pleased him.
His senses were outstretched for any sign of distress from Qui-Gon, but he felt nothing particularly abnormal. Perhaps he was just being paranoid as the old memories of this place swarmed over him. He shouldn't hover over the boy, though indeed he rarely felt inclined to. Qui-Gon would be positively appalled at the thought of his Master mothering him, after all.
Upon returning to his room, he flipped carefully through the book, memorizing the necessary entries with brief concentration. The feel of actual pages under his fingers was pleasant. Sometimes Dooku had thought about starting a book collection, but it was a useless and whimsical desire and he knew it. He was stronger than his desires, and the image of himself reduced to hovering protectively over a Hutt's collection of baubles was...repulsive. He reached out and ran a hand over the stone wall running beside the bed he had been given.
Strange to think all this could be his. The book, the house, the world. He considered the possibility with dispassion.
Just then, the echo of Qui-Gon he felt in the Force took on a sudden and wholly new character. Startled past outrage for a few seconds, Dooku's jaw worked and he dropped the book he was reading. It slid off the bed and onto the floor. He was halfway to the door and reaching for his lightsaber before he forcibly calmed himself.
There was no mistaking the unconscious mental broadcast he was getting. And his control dropped into pure anger as he realized that Anare had spent the last few hours seducing his apprentice. Successfully.
Not a betrayal. Dooku thought. Not. Not. You know what she does to people. You know what she does to you. He cursed all the tricks he'd picked up from her for making people do what he wanted. The boy honestly hadn't stood much of a chance. He ran himself through calming exercises he hadn't had to use since he was younger than Qui-Gon, wilfully ignoring what his apprentice was up to. He couldn't let himself get emotional about this. Emotion was her strength - it gave her power, while it just made him weak.
Unfortunately, ignoring this wouldn't make it go away. Dooku cursed mentally, remembering a thousand opportunities to talk to Qui-Gon, to get him a little more ready for this sort of tactic. They both would have hated it, but this was a thousand times worse. He should have realized that she wanted to hurt him, was willing to use Qui-Gon to get at him and didn't care about any consequences he could deal out. He should have forbidden the boy to go off with her, taking the political hit. This was just...just... She was only doing it to smash his composure, and he knew it, but that certainly didn't make him feel any better.
At least Qui-Gon was enjoying it. Sort of. He didn't like that particular feeling he was picking up from his apprentice.
It seemed like an eternity before Qui-Gon walked in the door again. He looked perfectly ordered, at a level of careful presentation he never achieved except when he was trying to hide something. Dooku gave him a look, but couldn't bring himself to be satisfied at Qui-Gon's flinch.
"How was your talk with Anare?" he asked instead.
"Oh, ah, she showed me her lab and we talked about plants. She's... really something." Qui-Gon said. Amazingly enough he managed to meet Dooku's eyes.
"And doesn't she know it. She is di Serenn." Dooku's voice became a little sharp. "She is also three times your age."
Qui-Gon blinked. "No way. She doesn't look...er."
Dooku saw the realization on Qui-Gon's face that his master knew perfectly well what had just gone on. "'Er' indeed. We'll talk about it. Later."
Qui-Gon dodged eye-contact. Only then did Dooku notice the book lying on the floor. He took the opportunity to pick it up and carefully put it away.
"...Master?" Qui-Gon asked, after a few moments.
"Yes, Qui-Gon?"
"What's a di Serenn?"
Dooku frowned, and answered carefully. "The di Serenn in their several Houses are the descendants of Vicereine Serenn, who led the first Alderaanian colonial government, and Maret, a chieftain of the Hydian people, in the male line. They comprise between a third to a half of this planet's population and a small percentage of the population on Tetarchus, the other inhabited planet in the system. They are traditionally leaders of the eight sectors of the ancient Hydian." .
"Are you one?" the boy asked.
Dooku sighed. "No. I am a Jedi."
"But almost everyone here calls you Idis. I didn't know you had another name."
"I do not. It's- Indrea should not have said that." Dooku looked down.
"Are you related to him?"
Dooku gave him another look. "There's ten thousand people in the colony, and there's been negligable immigration for over a thousand years. I'm related to everyone, child. Can't you tell? But enough talk. Do you want to see more of Serenno? An interesting opportunity has come up, and I'd like to take a short trip."
"Oh? Where are we going?"
Dooku smiled faintly. "Down below."