The Force was with Qui-Gon and Anakin today. When the former felt his Padawan's signature growing distant overtime during his own investigations into that rather repulsive cantina, the Jedi Master had expected his energetic pupil to have followed someone suspicious, someone who exited the structure under Qui-Gon's nose. Or perhaps Anakin sensed danger and went to investigate on his own right - Without his Master's permission for, say, Force knows how many times.

Instead, Anakin led the following Jedi right to the one suspect they were tracking down to begin with on their previous assignment. The Padawan looked more than relieved at seeing Qui-Gon again, and although he was grateful the boy was unharmed, there were far more pressing matters before their very eyes. Though the Council handed them the new mission to investigate the assassination attempt behind the Supreme Chancellor, the Force led instead led the Jedi on the path of their missing comrade.

"Master Sifo-Dyas."

The missing Master nodded in turn, calm exterior betraying nothing. "Master Jinn, it is good to see you again." Both Jedi Masters folded their arms, giving one another calculating stares, neither daring to make a move. Mace expressed the Council's suspicions that Sifo-Dyas wasn't so loyal to the Jedi as they thought.

And after what he and Anakin witnessed on Rattatak, it might not be entirely unjustified.

"You've been well, I trust."

Stalling. Qui-Gon could play this game, he nodded. "Well enough. The Council has often pondered where you have been absent to. I trust you haven't been in too much trouble yourself?"

The corners of Sifo-Dyas' mouth twitched upwards. "You can inform the Council that I have been well myself. I have only been tracking some leads towards the causes behind the Battle of Naboo."

"I'm certain you can tell the Council this yourself." Between them, Anakin glanced at both stoic Masters, obviously trying to discern what was happening.

Ignoring that remark, the Jedi they had been looking for inquired with a raised brow towards the fidgeting Padawan, "Your pupil, I presume?" Qui-Gon only nodded, repressing an urge to reach out and conceal Anakin behind his back. "I trust Padawan Kenobi passed his trials then."

"After the Battle of Naboo."

"Ah." This time, a more lighter smile. "My late congratulations then. From what I've heard, he will be a remarkable Jedi yet." He already was. But that was far from what was significant here. "What brings you here to the under levels?"

That was enough. "Master Sifo-Dyas, I believe it's best you return with us to the Temple posthaste. The Council wishes to speak with you after your four-year absence." The other Master said nothing, only regarding Qui-Gon stonily. Anakin's mentor took one step forward. "I'd prefer you don't consider resisting-"

"Master!"

Anakin cried out, and the teacher felt himself being forced back by the preteen in his stomach, saving both Jedi from what would've been a disastrous fate. The fire and smoke before him blew both Master and Padawan hurling backwards, rolling around on the filthy ground before landing in awkward positions. Fire greeted his vision, heated touching against his aging skin, smoke inhaling into his lungs, and that was all the incentive Qui-Gon needed to immediatley sit up and call out whilst coughing.

"Anakin!"

And, to his immense relief, the boy appeared unharmed. Coughing violently himself, the young pupil glanced dazedly at his teacher. "Master...?" Before something alerted them both in the Force. "Master! Master Sifo-Dyas!"

Qui-Gon looked over to the fire which separated the two from the other Master, but after a quick check with the Force. "He's alive Anakin." The signature was as bright as ever. Bright... With little to no traces of the dark. That both befuddled and worried the Jedi Master, but there was no time for that. Both Jedi carefully stood up, before Anaking pointed upwards again.

"There!" There indeed. For the lights of the lively underworld revealed the man coated in silver armour, immediately recognizable from Obi-Wan's descriptions over the Chancellor's office incident. Standing atop one of the roofs overlooking the alleyway, the assassin in the helmet stared blankly at the two Jedi that dodged his missile, but Qui-Gon could feel the glare behind the visor. And, ignoring Anakin's cry of "Hey, stop!" The armoured man activated his jetpack and began flying overhead, past the two watching Jedi before attempting to escape. "I've got him Master!"

"Anakin! Stop!" Qui-Gon called, to no avail, as his Padawan started pursuing with that youthful speed after the feeling opponent. The Jedi Master made to follow before-

"Master Jinn!"

Ah, right.

Sifo-Dyas, having leaped over the fire growing in the alleyway, joined with his fellow Jedi, looking both concerned and serious. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, but my apprentice to pursuing our would-be assassin. Let us help him." The other nodded, and both Masters chased after the sound of a jetpack and Anakin's bright Force Signature, the latter which was impossible to miss.

The boy burned brighter than the stars themselves.

And if anything happened to him, Qui-Gon would never forgive himself.

"There!" Sifo-Dyas called out, and they both paused upon arriving past fleeing citizens at the sound of blaster fire and a lightsaber hum at an edge overlooking the large speedway. Hover vicheles of all sizes whizzed past, below, and overhead, and, to Qui-Gon's immense exasperation, the young Jedi was now chasing after the assassin by hitching a ride on one into the large traffics of Coruscant.

Calling out to his Padawan would be futile. Qui-Gon learned from experience.

Instead, he spoke roughly to his fellow Jedi beside him, "Contact the Council. Inform them we are in pursuit of the Chancellor's attacker." And leaped from the edge despite not hearing the other Master's response, landing withe the Force on one of many speeders heading in Anakin's direction. The Gran piloting gawked at the Jedi Master suddenly hitching a ride, and Qui-Gon spoke both casually, "You wouldn't mind assisting an old Jedi Master in the pursuit of justice, would you?"

And as the Gran only gulped and nodded, the harsh wind whipping against Qui-Gon's greying long hair and beard, only one thought came to mind as they chased after his stubborn apprentice and the armoured assassin.

I'm getting too old for this.

Anakin was faring no better than his mentor.

Unlike Qui-Gon, he was unorthodox for the thrill of it, enjoying taking charge of situations and circumstances he deemed only his methods were right. And they often were. And that included leaping from speeder to speeder, chasing after the assassin who had to pause every so often on a vehicle to recharge his jetpack.

All sound was death to Anakin but the wind, tearing through his ears. Not even the hum of his azure lightsaber or the blaster bolts in his direction could be heard. The lights of imposing buildings they sped by were a blur, his vision focused only on the target the Jedi was entirely keen of not allowing to get away. Concentrating in the Force, he deflected bolts with relative ease, uncaring which direction they were heading. The underworld was filled with scum anyway, people down here died by the dozen.

He imagined Qui-Gon's chiding, but ignored it to focus on the present. Now that he listened to.

Thankfully, as this was the lower levels, the traffic before the Jedi wasn't nearly as huge and dangerous as the countless speeders above Coruscant. There was less for Anakin to worry about, hopping from one speeder to the next, greeted by a disgruntled yelling Dug piloting the vihcele. Anakin ignored, his saber whirling around to block more of the blaster fire headed his way. The assassin flew from one speeder to the next, evidently trying to reach a point where the path would be split into two so he could get away.

Not that Anakin let that happen. As soon as the path began to split for the vehicles, the young Padawan leaped upwards, over a whizzing by speeder and onto the ride before the speeder the armoured man fired from. Anakin grinned, sensing the irritation roll from his target whilst deflecting more of the man's double blasters. He'd have to give the assassin credit, however, he was a good shot. If Anakin didn't have his lightsaber now, he'd be dead way before now.

Then, the assassin made his own crucial mistake. One block from the Jedi caused a bolt to hit the back engine of the speeder the silver-armoued target hitched a ride on. The engine sputtered, the pilot screaming in fright, but the assassin remained impassive despite stumbling briefly, jumping from the side in order to escape.

And, using that oppotunity, the Force helped Anakin leap from the other speeder, crashing into the assassin's armoured stomach before he could activate his jetpack, azure lightsaber aimed before the man's neck. Together, both assassin and Jedi plunged down deeper into the levels below, but Anakin was far more focused on making this man pay for trying to harm the Chancellor and another Jedi, who was Qui-Gon's former apprentice.

Even if they didn't get along too well-

Anakin cringed in pain, feeling his own stomach kneed by the assassin, who used that advantage to grab his wrist, pulling his lightsaber hand away and using his other fist to deliver the Jedi a swift punch. And, although he was only in his teens, Anakin should never, ever be underestimated. His own free hand blocked the gloved hit, throwing his arm around the man's wrist to keep them in a lock, attempting to swerve the lightsaber hilt around his fingers and catch the assassin by surprise.

However, the assassin didn't feel like getting decapitated today. With the sound of a jetpack, the man delivered a swift kick straight into the Padawan's chest, inciting a pained cry and the lightsaber hilt to loosen from his fingers.

Right into the assassin's hand.

Without any sympathy, the armoured assassin gave Anaking another kick, prompting the young Jedi to wince in further pain and release the man's wrist. Satisfied, the man stared at the young glaring Jedi, and from behind the visor Anakin could picture the smug triumph on his expression, inciting the Jedi to snarl thrust his palm forward, and the powerful Force Push sent the stunned assassin hurlting back in the air, far from the Padawan, and Anakin was still falling towards his demise.

The Padawan closed his eyes, shame and disappointment enveloping his mind. He was going to die, and he had failed Qui-Gon. The death was warranted, he supposed-

That was, until a strong firm hand caught the falling Jedi by the scruff of his collar, and Anakin blinked at the sudden halt from descending to his demise. Slowly craning his neck around, he met the stern gaze of his mentor. But through their bond, Anakin sensed the relief radiate from him.

Pulling Anakin onto the halted speeder, Qui-Gon kneeled down to face his ashamed pupil, gently grabbing his arms. "Anakin." The tone was soft despite the baritone voice. "Are you alright?"

Was he alright? No, not really.

"I failed, Master." His lightsaber was taken and he failed to catch the assassin, who would be long gone by now. In a fit of rage, he allowed his own emotions to help their target escape. Qui-Gon, by all rights, should be mad. "I failed you..." The Master said nothing, but Anakin was pulled into a soft, comforting embrace, which he curled up to, releasing his own shame and anger to the understanding teacher.

"That was careless of you."

Jango shrugged, the Jedi's opinion of his tactics irrelevant to the task at hand. "It gets the job done." Before presenting the hilt he graciously acquired from the kid before making his escape earlier. When the boy's Master was focused on retrieving his pupil, Jango hitched a ride on a speeder he found himself underneath after that unpleasant ride by the boy's bizarre powers.

Sifo-Dyas scowled, arms folded beneath his excessive sleeves. Jango briefly wondered it gave the Jedi a sense of big-headed omniscense. "A weapon is a Jedi's life. You had no right taking it." Again, Jango shrugged, the ideals of a Jedi meaning little next to nothing to him. The two convened within an alley far from sight of the crowd, a redevous point previously chosen. The Jedi sighed. "But what's done is done, I suppose. Has your own meeting been successful?"

Jango nodded. "Representatives of the Black Sun are eager to meet with the Count after the message has been relayed." It took a taxing method in order to even speak with them, but the bounty hunter made certain to grab their attention by throwing the charred corpses of their bodyguards on the table upon entry. "I trust your Jedi didn't stop you from your own meeting?"

Sifo-Dyas nodded. "The Pykes have agreed to a meeting with Dooku, let us hope what he intends will be successful."

"Whatever gets me paid."

A strong raised brow. "I'm grateful, at least, that you didn't kill the boy during the chase."

Jango cocked his head. "A Padawan's death would mean little to my reputation. Besides, I've been paid not to target any Jedi; I only provided the means for you to escape when I spotted you being tracked by your kind."

"I had it under control."

"Even when your fellow Master threatened to take you back to that Temple by force?"

Sifo-Dyas frowned slightly at the sarcastic inquiry, before turning to depart. "Come, we should make our report to Dooku. I already dispatched a signal for the Council to pick up Master Jinn and hsi Padawan, though they will find no traces leading to me."

"Let's hope not. Last thing we need is you growing soft despite the Count's wishes." Jango pointed out, walking besides the Jedi. Though he held an initial dislike for their kind, this was a necessary evil. The Count was paying for the Mandalorian to work with the Jedi under his employment, and Jango would be damned before allowing his own prejudices to interfere with his professionalism.

A ghostly smile emerged on Sifo-Dyas' lips. "Yes. He can be rather annoyed in the face of sentimentality." Before glancing down at Jango's latest trophy attacked to his belt. "I would recommend returning that to its rightful owner."

"Eventually." Was Jango's clipped reply beneath the helmet. "After the boy pries it from my cold, dead hands."

"We are honoured by your arrival, Count Dooku." The Nightsister stated sagely, that echoing after-voice hovering through the air within the room. The Count, after a rather tedious escort by wary Nightsisters with their daggers and bows for the sudden visit, took his seat at the other side of the table as gestured to, recalling the similiar events from another life, the golden goblet with green liquid conjured up before him.

"Your hospitality is appreciated, Mother Talzin." The Leader of the Nightsister Clan waved off the compliment, taking her own place facing the esteemed Count. "I trust you know what brought my visit to Dathomir this time around?"

"Yes." Talzin nodded, pale tattooed expression thoughtful. "You offer assistance in searching for the man who attacked the Nightbrother village." She was as every bit the calculating mysterious mistress the Count recalled for the previous timeline. And if she despised their shared enemy as she had back then.

Well, who wouldn't take advantage of this unique oppotunity?

Dooku smiled smoothly. "That, and much more." Taking a sip - knowing Talzin holds no resentment towards him at this period, yet - he continued calmly, getting stright to business, "The man who ransacked that village was a Sith Lord, known as Darth Sidious." Something flickered in her eyes, and Dooku held back a knowing grin. "After his last pupil's death, I imagine he desired a replacement to continue with his grand scheme."

"Hmm. I had felt Maul's demise years ago," Talzin admitted, and if she felt any shred of sorrow for the death of her son, she didn't show it. "And I am... Familar with the Sith Lord in question. You have encountered him?"

So, she seemingly wasn't aware that Dooku was responsible for her spawn's death. He can work with that. Even so, the Count wasn't foolish enough to drop his guard; Nightsisters weren't one to be trusted without difficulty. Talzin was an enigma, for all her sorceries and theatrics, and Dooku wasn't to be deceived oh so easily.

"He attempted to persuade with his deceit into joining him," Dooku explained patiently, taking another sip of the goblet. A rather unique taste, but now unwelcomed. "And failed, just as Maul died for failing his wishes. But, upon recieving your message, I knew he would not back down so easily. Partially why I have come to you."

"Oh?"

Pushing the goblet forward slightly, the Count plopped his elbows on the table, interlocking his fingers with a contemplative look. "You and I share a common enemy, Talzin. I am gathering many potential allies in ridding us of this disease known as the Sith, as well as the dogmatic Republic they control. I am offering the Nightsisters an oppotunity to join us in our scheme to liberate the galaxy of this menace, before we succumb to its sickness."

In another life, Talzin had plotted the downfall of the Sith through Maul. She died for her attempts, whereas the Zabrak escaped. But, with Maul dead and Ventress under his fold, Talzin had little playing cards to use against him. In any case, the Nightsister would prove a more useful asset as opposed to an enemy; with their magicks and abilities, the new Seperatist alliance would prove more and more prepared against the machinations of Sidious. The Republic will be overthrown with a lack of war to begin with. Dooku merely needed to play his own cards correctly.

And he felt the Force was in his favour.

Talzin had been quiet for a long moment, before mirroring Dooku's posture with a slight jeering tone, "And why, good Count, should our clan join your little organization? What benefit would we gain aside from the death of that foolish Sith who dares to steal from Dathomir?"

The ex-Jedi smiled lightly. "Consider it returning the debt, after all, did I not help you long ago, when I was a Jedi?" Talzin said nothing, leaning back, which prompted the Count to continue. "With Sidious' demise, the Nightsisters will have no further enemies. The Sith seek to wipe out your clan and your ways in years to come. Trust me on this, Mother Talzin. I give you the chance to help us destroy all our foes and make way for a new order; one of peace and prosperity, which the Nightsisters would be a part of."

Talzin responded, the echoed amusement haunting Dooku's ears. "Your petty game of politics means nothing to us, Count." Before rubbing her own chin. "But your point is... Valid." Pale eyes glanced back at the waiting visitor. "The Nightsisters will convene; we shall consider your offer, that is all I will say for now. Thank you for taking the time to visit us from your busy schedule. I imagine the life of a Count is far more taxing than that of a Jedi."

Dooku smiled slyly at the slight mocking. "Personally, I'd call it a breath of fresh air. Thank you for your time, Mother Talzin."