Blades of red hummed and sizzled, illuminating the dark chamber housing the female leader of the dreaded Bando Gora.
"You should never have come, old man."
"Your talk is more noteworthy than your bladework, my old pupil."
Across the room they danced, lightsabers blazing glowing red slashing and parrying, the impactful noises echoing the otherwise empty chamber. Former Master and apprentice, one fallen for the sake of the galaxy, the other from her own agressive nature and the tortues of her previous captors, the darkness shrouding and fueling their powers as they waltzed to the death.
Of course, this was no real competition to Dooku. Vosa, while skilled, lacked the finesse and true understand of saber combat. Hence the Count was able to swiftly and without sweat parry and deflect the twirling blades. The young woman, eyes yellow and hair white as snow, relied too much on her own passion to the fight, making numerous follies to her own work that Dooku easily exploited.
Jar'Kai. Such an overused and ridiculous tactic.
"Only a true swordsman would rely on one lightsaber alone to achieve mastery, young one." The Count chided his former student upon saber-lock. As the snarling Vosa desperately pushed, Dooku scowled and twirled his blade rapidly, forcing the aggressive woman to whirl around, taking a few steps back to breathe.
As it happened int he previous timeline, Komari Vosa had secluded herself within the confines of this palace, among one of the moons of Bogden: Kohlma. Nothing this time had changed about his disappointing former pupil; Vosa was as savage and lustful for combat as he remembered. That Fett managed to best a Jar-Kai practicioner would've spoke volumes, if said duelist was a master of the skill.
Alas, she hadn't changed at all. Though this time, Dooku planned on rectifying his previous mistake.
Without delay, his own red saber countered Vosa's flurry assaults, one hand behind his back with the Force did most of the work for him. The dark side encouraged his unstable student, indulging her desire for retribution against her former Master.
"You did this to me!" Vosa all but screamed, rage roaring from her scarred throat. "Had you granted me the position of Knight. But no; you and that dogmatic Order were afraid of me! Afraid of my abilities!"
"That was hardly the case." Dooku's brown eyes narrowed at the false accusation. "You were far too eager for bloodshed, longing to indulge your passions and flirtation with the darkness. I had acted accordingly."
Never mind her unnerving infatuation for him.
"And now, Master, you will see what that passion can do!"
"I look forward to it."
The duel proceeded, but it was clear to any observer that Dooku had the higher ground in this fight. Like Maul, Vosa was too focused on her own rage and prowess to keep a calm and calculating head in battle, and that will be her undoing. And more disappointment swelled up within the Sith at Vosa's lack of adequate combat. Oh he recalled how often he praised the young woman's adept skills and tacticians. But now? He was hardly flattered by this result of his training.
A small part of Dooku blamed himself.
Alright, he had enough.
As Vosa, raised her blade upwards, with his free hand Dooku used the Force to halt the next assault, his saber blocking her other spinning in rapid succession, forcing the activated hilt to fly out of Vosa's hand and harmlessly on the stone floor. Before the darksider could retaliate, blue bolts of lightning emerged from his open palm, the shocked and pained scream of his former desciple echoing the dark throne room.
The assault flew the woman across the chamber, forcing her to land hard on the stone steps in front of the large window overlooking the moon outside. As Vosa groaned, attempting to recover from Dooku's effective Force attack, the Sith Lord appraoched his downed student.
And an activated red blade pointe dat ehr throat before she could sit up. Brown calm eyes stared into yellow enraged orbs. Allowing the gravity of the situation to sink into his former pupil's mind at first, Dooku spoke coolly, "I expected more from you, Komari."
The young woman snarled, refusing to express fear in the face of the one who 'betrayed' her, "Finish me..."
The demand prompting the Serrinian to smile slightly, "And get rid of an asset. You underestimate your former Master... And perhaps your current; should you choose to serve me once more."
Yellow eyes brightened, "And why would I do that?"
A pause, before Dooku admitted something he should've done long ago. "Because I made a mistake." Vosa's featured frowned, and the Count clarified calmly, "In thinking you were unready for the ascension to Jedi Knight, and that your passion for combat would only prove fruitless. And I apologize for not realizing your full potential sooner."
"You... Apologize..." The blatant confusion and anger on Vosa's sharp face almost incited Dooku to laugh.
"You are unaware of the geniune threat towards the galaxy at large, my former pupil." Deactivating his blade, the Count stared down the perplexed Dark Jedi with sternness. "And I could use your talents once more to aid in ridding the Dark Lord of the Sith." Her eyes widened at the revelation, but Dooku continued nonchalantly, "If you and the Bando Gora serve my cause, I shall compelte your training, and we will begin a new era for the galaxy, one where the corruption of the Republic, the Jedi and the Sith are cleansed away, making room for a new stable and secure society for all life in the galaxy."
"...What makes you think I won't slay you down when the oppoturnity presents itself?" Vosa inquired slowly, cautiously.
"You can try." Dooku responded casually, an aged hand reaching forward. "Become my student once more, Komari Vosa, and your trianing will be finished. After all, the Sith Lord desires your head, deeming you a present threat to his plans. Your petty crinimal gang can only achieve so much to protect you."
That as all that was required. Vosa may be a skilled duelist and powerful with her emotions, but not even that will save her from a true Master of the Dark Side. Sidious had ordered her death in the previous timeline, but Dooku will make certain none of his prized students will ever be harmed by the machinations of that snake again.
"Now looka... We don't need to settle this under bloodshed, eh? All I'm jus' askin' for is a measly ten thousand credits, and she's all yours." The slimy Toydarion offered, attemtping to defusing this present situation before he ends up all over the floors of his shop.
Watto wasn't entirely sure what was happening himself. One moment he was selling parts to a promising customer, the next this armoured man comes in, starts waving his blasters around the place, scaring off said customer and demanding the price for Shmi Skywalker. The armour Watto vaguely recognized belonged to the Mandolorian culture, which incited both panic and confusion in the aged Toydarion.
The Mandalorians, of so he thought, had changed from their oppressive bloodthirsty ways long ago. So what this all about?
For a moment, the person, obviously male behind the silver helmet, spoke again, rough and firm, "Five thousand, and I will spare your life before collecting the slave personally."
Watto gulped, the nose of the sleek blaster primed right on his bald forehead. The junkdealer had dealt with this type ruffian before, and will not back down so easily. He then played his triumph card, clearing his throat. "Now, ya wouldn't wanna do that, my friend. I have the deactivation device for the slave chip inhibiting that slave. Killin' me will do ya no favours... Eheh..."
Yet, to the junkdealer's dismay, the man wasn't fazed by his argument. The barrel of the wepaon loomed closer, his visitor's voice dangerously low, "I have other ways of controlling or removing that chip, Toydarion. Now, three thousand. That's my final offer. Bargain for more and I'll take your life along with the slave."
Well, with a bargain like that...
"Alright! Alright!" Watto threw his hands up, giving up in this matter. Skywalker wasn't worth the hassle, nor his corpse. Though a part of him loathed to hand over the woman to this kind of scum. "She's all yours. I trust you have the credits right now, eh?" He rubbed his hands greedily before he could stop himself.
Slowly, the blaster lowered, yet the Mandalorian waved him off, "Just go get the device, and you'll be paid for your part."
Moments later, Watto watched his "generous" customer leave after hastily grabbing and handing him the device. He hoped that whatever deity was out there would look out for Skywalker, for the aged Toydarion had a feeling she was gonna need it.
It had been the usual day for Shmi Skywalker.
Breakfast. Working at the junkshop. Watto telling her to go home when she showed the slightest sign of exhaustion. Carefully walking past any ruffians or thieves along the way - not that Shmi would have anything of substance for them to steal. Clean up the house and the droid her little Ani had worked so hard on over two years ago now. Retire to bed for the night for the following typical morning. Rinse and repeat.
That was all she expected, really.
What she hadn't expected, however, was the man in silver armour waiting for her at her front door, announcing they were to leave Tatooine and to pack her essentials. Shmi, obviously knowing better than to question this serious-looking humanoid, obliged, eventually requesting for help from her waiting guest to lift up the unfinished 3PO.
As everything was packed, the man, as she could discern from his rugged voice, began the procedure of removing her inbedded slave chip.
"Why are you doing this...?" The aged woman couldn't help but inquire, wincing slightly at the pain. Followed by blood, the armoured humanoid held up the chip, before promptly crushing it with his hand.
"Your employer requires your services." The rough man replied briskly, motioning for her to stand from her seat, Shmi nodded, doing as expected before moving over to pick up her box.
"But me personally?"
"He was very specific." He responded, throwing the tall droid over his shoulder with a lack of care.
As she pondered these words, a surge a hope rose through her. "Does it have something to do with Ani?" She asked.
The man simply stared at her for a moment, before answering in that same strict tone, "Never heard of him. Now I suggest we move. Lord Tyranus wants this to be a smooth transaction."
As her hopes dampened, Shmi felt a different surge within her while nodding, walking towards the front door to the wilderness outside; she was free.
A free slave.
And yet... why ask for her employment without the slave chip? Was this 'Lord Tyranus' a man or woman who didn't believe the necessity for slavery under servitude, or was just confident enough Shmi wouldn't try to escape? Well, quite frankly, the aged Skywalker was too exhausted in her age to consider running anywhere. Her life didn't belong to greater heights or adventure, but her beloved son, on the other hand...
"May I ask where we're going?"
"My ship. We'll be leaving for Serenno." The helmeted man answered, walking by her to proceed as she wer egreeted by the sands of Tatooine. "Follow me."
Serenno...
Shmi would tap her chin in she could, instead of hastily following the mysterious stranger. The aged woman vaguely recalled such a planet...
But whoever this Tyranus was, and whatever this new world had to offer her, Shmi was more than certain her life will be a bit more brighter than it had been on Tatooine, ever since Anakin left.
A small part of her assured her of such.
"I'm delivering the slave to Serenno as my speak, Lord Tyranus. She'll be here shortly."
"You have done well, Jango." Dooku praised the holographic bounty hunter, "And the chip?"
"Removed as you instructed. Though I fail to see why you'd want a free slave serving you."
"All in due time, my friend." The Count waved dismissively. "A servant will expect you by the landing, he'll relieve Skywalker off your hands. After which, I have another assignment for you."
"Just as long as I get paid." Beofre Jango Fett abruptly swicthed off the communication, leaving Dooku to his thoughts.
The Sith Lord sighed, a faint smile of nostalgia rose on his aged lips. Jango had alway preferred to end the conversation by his own terms. Straight to the point and tolerated no nonsense. It was a shame he fell at the hands of Windu at the height of the Clone Wars. Now that will be changed.
The Force hummed its approval at Dooku's tactics, and the Count rose from his seat in his office, turning to the large stain window overlooking the lovely forests of Serenno. Everything was proceeding as planned. With the mother of Anakin Skywalker under his wing, Dooku now had the upper hand in regards to the impudent brat. In case that Qui-Gon's teachings fial to mature the boy, his mother will be used as leverage should he become a presentable threat to him.
Or if Sidious intends to sick the so-called "Chosen One" on him.
And earlier today, Sifo-Dyas contacted the pleased Count, informing him that the warlords of Rattatak were disposed of, and Ky Narec and his pupil were prepared to come to Serenno. Which was more than excellent. Despite having a different Master now, Ventress was still Dooku's pupil in spirit, and the Sith felt some obligation to help with her training, to make up for what happened so long ago.
The image of her charred corpse on Christophsis incited his slight frown.
This time, things will be different. He vowed this. The Republic will be cleansed into a new greater state of democrary, free from the incompetent cowards and corrupt backstabbers who run it. The Jedi Order will be reubuilts, old ways cast aside to make way for the new. And Sidious will be destroyed once and for all.
Thatw as the balance to the Force those fools failed to comprehent. And Dooku will be the messenger and hand of that balance.
But for now, time was key. Dooku's next task for the Mandolorian was to assist a certain Kaleesh in his people's struggles against the rival species-
His posture stiffened, crude sinister voice speaking from behind him, echoing from the darkness of the large office.
"Well now, we meet at last, Count Dooku..."