The serene atmosphere among the temple gardens was a contrast to the current mood of a particular Padawan. Whereas other Jedi would meditate or pause to admire the beautiful flora planted and treated with care, Anakin had no really appreciation of plantlife. Water was an entirely different story, but trees and flowers? They begin to blend.

Instead, the young Jedi sat upon one of the many benches outside the temple, glaring at the marble floor as if it were responsible for his current sour mood. Qui-Gon was busy with a meeting with other Masters, leaving Anakin all on his own. The Padawan yearned for some more training or a new mission assigned to them some time soon; anything to get rid of his bad mood at the present. He sincerely doubted his Master's methods of meditation would help matters.

In his defense, it was niether Anakin nor Qui-Gon's fault for the former's current irritation. No, that position belonged to a clearly jealous Jedi Knight who made things purposely awkward at Dex's Diner. Obi-Wan. Anakin scowled at the mere thought of that man. It was all his fault. That would've been a nice meal together if the Knight hadn't acted like a jerk around Qui-Gon just because he was no longer his Master. The two older Jedi spent the majority of their time there avoiding each other's gaze and making shot, tight-lipped comments when addressing one another. It was infuriating.

And to make things worse, it made the Supreme Chancellor feel awkward by the unwanted tension.

As he said, infuriating.

His fingers clenched the edges beneath the bench. Who was Obi-Wan to decide making things purposely tense was okay? The Knight was clearly just jealous. Despite all the positive things and stories his Master has shared about his previous student, Obi-Wan wasn't the star pupil Qui-Gon made him out to be. The Knight had no geniune care as to how much Qui-Gon regarded him, and Anakin couldn't stand it. He had no right to disrespect Qui-Gon's legacy like this! The Master deserved far better than that ungrateful bantha poodoo!

Obi-Wan was just being a jerk for literally no reason. Far from being the so-called 'Perfect Jedi' as he was so dubbed by the Temple. Just a spoilt brat. Anakin will show him; he'll be the real Jedi Knight that Qui-Gon's former pupil failed to be. After all, Anakin was being taught by the greatest Jedi teacher who ever lived, one who listened and advised him like a father, a role model. He felt sorry for whatever future apprentice Obi-Wan decides to pick.

After he gets his lightsaber out of his-

"Darkening thoughts, you are thinking, hmm?"

Gah!

Anakin released a yelp, so immersed in his own frustrated thoughts to sense the coming presence of the Order's Grand Master. "Master Yoda!" The little green Jedi Master smiled at Anakin's surprised response, hobbling over to join the young Padawan on the bench. "I didn't see you there!"

"No wonder, that is." Yoda chided gently, and Anakin's cheeks flamed. "Troubled, you are. Much conflict in you, I sense. Palpable, even to the Younglings it is." His small walking stick gestured over to a group of children by the large fountain, staring curiously and in awe over to the two.

Who could blame them? The Grand Master of the Jedi and the acclaimed Chosen One together?

"Pride. Known to you that is, but to a pupil of Qui-Gon's, a long time has that been." Again, there was the embarrassment Anakin felt from the small Jedi picking up on his thoughts with relative ease. Yoda hopped onto the bench beside the nervous Padawan, poking him in the ribs slightly with that damn cane of his. "See what Master Qui-Gon means now, I do, in requiring instructions still, in regards to your mental shields."

"I'm trying my best..." Even to Anakin, that sound like a terribly weak excuse.

Yoda seemed to agree. "Try? Try, there is not. If try alone, fail you will. Conviction, you must embrace. But without pride, you must not feel." Anakin said nothing, staring down at his twitching enclapsed hands. "Pride. A powerful sensation. But dangerous, it is, when felt for too long. Long has it been, since such intensity of pride has been felt in one of Qui-Gon's pupils."

Anakin frowned, finally facing the green Master. Pupils? As in plural? "Qui-Gon had more than one Padawan before me?"

Yoda looked elsewhere, ancient eyes reflecting recollection. And the Padawan winced, slightly relieved the Master was too distracted by his thoughts to lecture Anakin for calling his teacher by his first name. "Yes... Before young Obi-Wan, a first Padawan, Qui-Gon had. A talented pupil, he was. But pride, creating resentment, festered in his heart; turned him against the Jedi, it did." Anakin leaned forward, more than eager to hear more. A Jedi who turned against the Order? Was he a Sith like that Zabrak was? Who was he? "Now tell me, you will, what plagues your troubled thoughts, hm?"

Drat. He almost got away with it.

At Yoda's mirthful expression, Anakin pouted somewhat and leaned back, reclining against his seat with a half-heated shrug. "I'm just worried about Qui-... My Master, Master Yoda. He and Master Obi-Wan had a falling out. And he's blaming himself for it."

"And believe he's wrong, you do."

The words exploded from the teen's mouth. "Of course I do!" Before realizing his error and paling, calming himself down slightly. Yoda, however, didn't look condescending, but patient. And the young frustrated Jedi continued, "It's not his fault Master Obi-Wan's being a jealous jerk. Just because he has a new Padawan. And it's not my fault either!"

The Grand Master simply smiled, eyes urging the Padawan to continue. And Anakin proceeded, relieved that someone was willing to listen. "I'm just trying to be the Jedi that Master Qui-Gon wants me to be, but Obi-Wan keeps ruining everything! He's just mad because he was given the trials early and became a Knight, but that's not my fault. Qui-Gon thought he was ready... And I don't want to say he's wrong, but..."

"'But...?'" Yoda pressed kindly, leaning forward somewhat.

Anakin bowed his head, slightly ashamed for saying this, "Maybe Master made a mistake after all. Obi-Wan hasn't been acting like the flawless Jedi everyone's making him out to be. He's blaming Qui-Gon for no reason whatsoever. And it's... I don't know... Infuriating."

To a Jedi, expressing such an emotion would be considered blasphemous. But Yoda hardly looked judging, simply gazing at Anakin rather thoughtfully. And though the teenager sensed no scolding incoming, he knew a lecturing look when he saw one. "So distraught, are you, from Master Obi-Wan, hmm? Afraid you are, that ruin your apprenticeship, he will. Upset that Qui-Gon is upset, and feel guilty, you do."

"I..." Though he wanted to deny it, Anakin couldn't fight back the truth of Yoda's words vibrating through the Force.

The little Master leaned back, humming with thought by closing his eyes. "Guilt, you should not feel. Happy, Qui-Gon is, to being your mentor. Told me this, he has. And pride you must not feel!" He added rather sharply, obviously picking up on Anakin's enthusiastic joy over his Master's praise to Yoda of all people! "In conflict, Master Obi-Wan is. Sense it, I do. No right has he to disrupt your training. But intentional, it is not. Judge so quickly, unbecoming of a Jedi. Release those emotions, you must, and witness from another perspective, you should."

"But-!"

"Buts, there is not." Yoda opened his eyes, taking mirth in Anakin's flabbergasted expression. "Tell you the same, Qui-Gon would." Anakin winced at the accuracy. Qui-Gon would tell him to meditate and start viewing things another way. "Contemplating this, trouble it brings. Doubt and jealously, the seeds of resentment they are. Meditation, key that is. Blame no one should you."

Anakin hesitated. "Master, what about Qui- Master Qui-Gon? I'm still worried about him."

"Do the same, your Master would. And will." Yoda had a knowing twinkle in his old warm eyes. "A Master of meditating, Qui-Gon is. Give me a run for my money, he would." Anakin couldn't help it, he chuckled along with the Grand Master. "Speak with young Obi-Wan, I will. Judgement he does not need, young Skywalker. Empathy, required, that is."

Empathy? After everthing he's-?

Anakin bowed his head quickly at Yoda's stern look, mumbling quietly, "Yes Master Yoda..."

Satisfied for now, the little Jedi Master nodded, and opened his mouth-

Before a rumbling sensation emerged from the ground, Anakin clutching onto the bench for support at the sudden unexpected vibrations. The Force trembled in concern, Younglings screaming in surprise and fear at the small earthquake shaking the Temple at present. Once it passed, Anakin opened his eyes slowly, wondering just what in the name of Jabba happened right then.

The Force continued reverberating in worry. Were they under attack-?

Yoda was already on his feet, ancient eyes staring upwards in firm resolve, an expression Anakin had never witnessed on the Grand Master's face until now. "Investigate, we should."

He had a bad feeling about this...

Alarms blared through the temple halls. Masters, Knights and Padawans alike scurried in an organized hurry to either retreat to their quarters or locate the course of this threat which has violated the sacred temple grounds. And passing by the older Jedi barely passing her a glance, a young Initiate chatisized herself for choosing to study in the Archives at such poor timing, hurrying to place the data disks she used for her research back to their proper places in the shelves.

Unorthodox when there's an intruder within the temple, but the young Mirialan felt unclean just leaving them discarded that way.

"Young one!" The Initiate jumped at the elderly voice approaching her, clumsily dropping some disks in the process. Madame Jocasta Nu reached the hasty child, sharp eyes stern in contrast to a small smile in recognition. "Young Bariss. The temple is under high alert, you must return to your clan posthaste."

Bariss nodded, reaching down to pick up the rest of the data. Then a delicate hand stopped her by the wrist.

"I will put them back to their proper places. Though I appreciation your respect," The Jedi Archivist said with sincere warmth, guiding the flustered Bariss to stand with her. "Hurry now, I'm sure a fellow Knight will escort you back if you ask."

The mirialan nodded, too respectful to argue. And why would she? Madame Nu was probably the most kind-hearted Jedi Master Bariss had encountered yet. "Yes Master." She mustered up as much respect someone her age could, gave the rest of the data to the Archivist and continued as instructed, passing by the Jedi Master down the narrow corridors of shelves. Her clan insturctor will no doubt be concerned for Bariss' whereabouts.

And thinking about quickened the Mirialan's stride, keeping at a steady pace also within the Archives. The last thing she wanted was to encounter the temple's intruder. Bariss knew this was no simple drill-

Turning a corner made her almost bump into a fellow Jedi.

Immediately, Bariss bowed in embarrassment. "My- My apologies, Master." Her voice squeaked somewhat, and she winced at how pathetic it sounded. Cautiously glancing back up, her eyes widened at the impressive structure of the tall, built man wrapped in Jedi robes, hood obscuring his features, but with her attunement in the Force, Bariss almost flinched at the irritation pouring off this person.

The hooded Jedi cocked his head behind him, tone marking impatience, "Hurry along, little one. Everyone's lookin' for the intruder." The voice itself was gruff, and leaving no room for argument. Bariss nodded, more than eager to prevent from invoking the wrath of this angry Jedi, bowing again and hurrying past him-

Wait...

Jedi don't use anger...

And through her connection, Bariss never sensed a powerful Force presence from the powerful-looking man.

Alarmed, the Mirialan immediately whirled and stopped the man from progressing to his destination through her words. "You're- You're the intruder!" Eyes widened in fear upon the bohemian turning around to face her, and Bariss quickly backed up, doing the next logical thing. "Madame Jocas-!"

Pain burst in the side of her head, the young Initiate having no quick reaction time from the barrel of a blaster impacting into her. The Mirialan fell to the floor, clutching her pained head in small agony and struggling to stare upwards, a sneer present from the rest of the man's shadowed features.

Madame Nu's voice rung out in concern, "Young Bariss? Was that you? Good grief-!"

"No!" Bariss screamed at the ring of blue fired at the older Jedi, knocking her flat on the floor. Her own voice sounded hoarse, tears beginning to pour down her eyes at the pain and the Archivist's untimely dead. Jedi weren't meant to feel grief, but this wasn't something young Bariss couldn't control. And it hurt.

"So says the legendary reflexes of a Jedi..." Her assilant muttered, and from the sounding of cocking blaster, Bariss strained to look up through tearful eyes at the point of a weapon aimed at her head. "Rest now, little Jedi." Bariss clenched her eyes, preparing for the end, mentally attempting to repeat a drilled mantra for something as awful as this.

There is no death, only the Force.

There is no death, only the Force-

"Stay back from her, assilant!"

And Bariss felt herself being roughly pulled upwards, and into the strong grip of an intruder holding her hostage. "Stand back Jedi, or this kid will never live to become a Padawan."

Luminara narrowed her eyes at the ruffian holding the young Initiate hostage, recognizing the latter to be of Mirialan origin, just like her. An emerald blade ignited, the Master raised her blade defensively, glancing warily between the smug intruder and frightened Initiate. Her senses informed her that the fallen Madame Nu was simply unconcious, thankfully.

"More Jedi are on their way," She replied calmly, tip of the lightsaber aiming in the robed figure's direction. "You have nowhere to run. Surrender."

She could make out the sneer in the cloaked man's face, pressing the weapon further to the young child's temple. "I've got a better idea, Jedi scum. Why don't you access the vaults for me, and maybe I'll let this little Mirialan live to see another day."

The idea itself was blasphemous. Luminara frowned heavily, keeping a steady stance in case he'll strike. "You are in no position to make deals, intruder."

"Oh, I think I am." The figure grinned. "See, I'm the one holding this here kid in my grip. And I know you Jedi would never let someone else get hurt, not if you can help it. You always were too soft to get the job done proper." The young Initiate whimpered, prompting the man's smirk beneath the hood. "So, if either of you want to survive this day, you'll do as I say. Trust me you'd be making the right choice here."

"Trust me, you won't be getting away this day, nor will you have access to the vaults." The Jedi Master said evenly. "The youngling will not be harmed by the likes of you. Release her, and it'll make things easier."

The figure paused, then sighed, almost regretfully. "Ah well. Trust you Jedi to be so thick-headed." The blaster in his hand cocked. "Say goodbye, kid. Looks like your Jedi Masters have failed you." Luminara raised one free hand, swiftly attempting to pull the gripped blaster her way instead-

"No!"

A warning through the Force prompted her to react differently. The Master blocked herself from the sudden wave of strength blowing back her robes and headdress, the surprised yell of the intruder and the power of the Force ringing in her ears. Luminara immediately lowered her arm to reveal the sight to her; the young Initiate kneeling on the floor in terror. And the intruder, knocked several feet back.

Dazed.

But, for a moment, the Mirialan lingered her astonished gaze on the child, knowing she was fully responsible for that powerful blaster that knocked the thug and his weapon away. True, a Jedi did not react on fear, but the raw power demonstrated by the scared young Mirialan was still something to behold. And it wasn't long until the Temple Guards arrived at the scene, followed by a stern Master Windu.

"Master Luminara." The Korun greeted stoically, taking note of the unconcious Jocasta, the keeling Initiate and expressing disgust over the fallen intruder, sending the guards to deal with him. "Are you alright?"

The Jedi Master nodded while deactivating her blade, eyes not kept off the youngling for even a minute. "I am well, Master Windu. I shall leave Madame Jocasta and the thug to you. Additionally I will report to the Council when possible." Mace nodded, walking over to inspect the Archivist being helped up. And Luminara approached calmly towards the shaking Initiate, kneeling down gently to meet at eye level. "It's okay, young one." She coaxed gently. "The danger has past. You need not be afraid anymore. Are you alright?"

The much younger Mirialan slowly removed her hands from her face, mumbling something beneath her tone. Luminara strained to hear it. "There is no emotion there is peace. There is no emotion there is peace..."

The Jedi Master smiled slightly, placing a kind hand on the youngling's stiffening shoulder. "That's right, young one. You were very brave today. And despite your fear, you refused to panic under the face of a threat." Brown eyes gazed tearfully, and Luminara was rather affected by the reflection seeking out comfort. So she provided it. "I am Jedi Master Luminara Unduli. What's your name?"

"B-Bariss... Offee... Master..."

Bariss Offee. Luminara's smile widened. "Well, young Bariss. It seems the Force has brought us together for a purpose."

Upon finishing reading through the recieved report, Dooku released a tiny sigh, leaning back against his seat contemplatively.

So then, the holonet was correct in its news; some poor fool had attempted entry into the most secure vaults of the Jedi Temple. Impressive as it was alone to have infiltrated the sacred home of the Jedi alone, it came off as no big surprise to the Count. Over the years surrounding the Clone Wars, the Jedi have become far too lax.

Not to mention, an infamous Duros bounty hunter managed to break into the holocron vaults during the war, so that's to be expected.

What wasn't expected, however, was the temple having an intruder this early than the first timeline, nor the infiltrator in question. The report from his spies detailed that the captured mercenary was a tall, well-built human male with tattoos scattered across his body often associated to Mandalorian bounty hunters. Dooku thought back, knowing full well the temple was never violated by that particular hunter in the old timeline, and concluded the only logical idea. That Sidious was responsible for the infiltration to occur in the first place.

A rather sloppy execution, all things considered. The Count personally wouldn't consider sending Montross of all people to disguise himself as a Jedi and rob the ancient vaults. A sign of desperation, perhaps?

Or perhaps his former Sith Master was becoming intentionally difficult to predict.

The Count stood up, switching his straightened gaze from nowhere to the large stained window, the light of Serenno's sun reflecting beautifully through the images. An unpredictable Sith Lord was a dangerous one, the likes of Sidious moreso. Dooku prides himself in knowing his enemies, their thoughts, their styles, their movements, what they most likely will intend to do next, and this attempt of breaking into the vaults was terribly unsubtle by Sidious' part. The former Jedi wasn't 'afraid' by this new development - Serenno nobles nor Sith Lords feel 'fear' - but more unsettled. Sidious was planning something, and the Count didn't often enjoy being kept in the dark; especially where his former teacher was concerned.

He'll deal with investigating this revelation later. For now, there were more pressing matters the noble must attend to. Count Dooku was expecting a call any minute regarding some new potential allies to his cause... And by allies, he truthfully meant 'expendable assets.'

Because, by deemed every way, the Hutts had no place in his grand vision for the galaxy.

With Jedi Master Pong Krell dealt with, the Pykes and Black Sun accepting proposals of negotiation, and the Nightsisters now aiding the Seperatist cause, Dooku could focus his attention on wiping away another significant piece of scum from the face of the galaxy. After that, he'll consider dealing with the young Initiate Bariss Offee before she, too, becomes as much a threat to his vision as the inane Besalisk was.

Talzin and her witches served no geniune threat to him. At least, not as of yet. But like all other criminal organizations, the Hutt Cartel was another disease needing to be cleansed from the galaxy. The Pyke Syndicate and Black Sun clans were of no exception, and Dooku would attempt to rally all known criminal gangs under his thumb. All the more better to rid of this diseases with a single stroke.

The Hutts were the most notorious gangsters of the Outer Rim, operating their empire through unsavory means. Slavery, blackmail, illegal trade, assassinations. Anything to gain them more undeserving power and a safe fortress to hide in. Dook found these means distasteful. True, he wasn't as objecting about it as he had been during the war, but they were means to an end. And the Count shall use these stains of the Outer Rim until before it becomes too late for them to comprehend.

And, right on cue, his desk alerted him to an incoming transmission.

Dooku accepted the call with grace, standing tall and with false courtesy as the expected image of the Hutt and his droid translator appeared over him. Jabba's structure, even in holographic form, expanded beyond the wide desk itself, and the Count forced himself not to frown in revulsion at the sight of the repulsive gangster.

How simple it would be, Dooku thought wryly, To choke the life out of this overgrown slug where he stands.

But, refusing to succumb to primal urges than, say, Skywalker, the Count dipped his head in polite acknowledgement. "Mighty Jabba. I am gratified to see you have recieved my message."

The Hutt passed Dooku a weighing stare, and spoke in that exaggerated, vile tongue on his. "The most gracious Jabba is humbled to have gained an invitation for potential business between the Hutt Clan and the nobility of Serenno." Jabba spewed more saliva than comprehensible words. "It is said the noble houses contain more credits in their vaults than one can dream of."

Greed. The bane of all men, and the downfall of many more. Dooku never sought wealth personally, like the Seperatists, money was also a necessity to get what he desires. And that includes attracting the attention of a slug the size of one of Bogden's moons.

"His Exhaultedness wishes to assure you, Count Dooku, that you have made the right decision in choosing him for a potential partner as opposed to the rest of the Hutt Cartel." So Jabba believed. "Although the Mighty Jabba desires to learn as to why one of Serenno's nobles would consider doing something unorthodox to the houses."

Dooku smiled, gesturing with widened arms. "I am not above recognizing potential when I see it, Jabba. Out of all the Cartel, you are perhaps the most influential, not to mention, trustworthy. I think we will gain many great feats together, benefiting both your empire and my cause, if this ideal partnership becomes a reality."

The massive Hutt garbled something else out of his repulsive volcabulary, prompting the droid to recite in Basic, "And what is this 'cause' you speak of? There are rumours spreading over a seperate government as opposed to the Republic being founded under knowing eyes."

Dooku will credit the Hutt for one thing; he was awfully perceptive. With a collected mask, the former Jedi smirked friendly, clasping his hands behind him. "I see nothing can be hidden from his Excellency. But if you wish to know of my full intentions, that will depend on whether or not these negotiations come to be."

Jabba examined the human across the galaxy, leaning down somewhat in the hologram as though studying the composed Count. Dooku dared not imagine the scenario if they were in real close proximity, refusing to sniff the fabricated stench.

And, finally, a low rumbling emerged form the disgusting Crime Lord's throat. Jabba chuckled with a fat smile, rubbing his meaty hands while replying in Huttese once again. "Mighty Jabba is pleased by your boldness, Count Dooku, and would like to offer you an invitation to his Excellency's palace on Tatooine, to discuss this potential partnership in person."

Clever. To make the meeting look all the more authentic. Dooku supposed he could humour the pleased Hutt. He nodded. "I shall arrange for transport to Tatooine very soon. I shall let you know of my upcoming arrival."

"We look forward to it."

Dooku couldn't exactly share those reservations.

Once the communication ended, he was finally permitted to scowl. Dealing with the Hutts was always a nuisance, but a necessary one. Part one of the plan was complete, now to use the next method to earning the Hutt's trust indefinitely. And the Count knew exactly how to pull it off.

By utilizing a similar scenario used against the Hutt involving his infant son, early on in the war. And the Count, like last time, intended for this idea to work with no traces back to him. None of the Separatists nor his own personal allies could be used for this one.

It was time, he decided, to give that irritable pirate Hondo a call.