To say the Galactic Republic was in uproar, following the announcement from the esteemed Count of Serenno, would be like saying a Gundark would make a poor politician.
Although, in fairness, a Gundark couldn't do far worse than the bumbling fools who took up a good half of the Senate of present.
The Core Worlds were panicking all over, the galaxy itself shifted by the change of events. An irreversable shift in the Force which even the felines of Lothol could detect. Days have passed following the emergence of Count Dooku's Confederate Alliance, and everything was in disarray, the Republic in turmoil. Its citizens lost and confused, wondering just what this meant for the government which had kept them in peace for a thousand years. Many demanded explanations, why neither the Republic nor Jedi were doing a single thing about it, and much more began to view things from the Alliance's perspective.
Worse still, how many star systems quickly declared their departure from the Republic in either fear or agreement to the Count's new system, siding with the Confederacy or joining up with the neutral worlds. Only one day following Dooku's announcement, over three hundred worlds seceeded from the Republic they have been loyal to for generations, hiding no contempt over how impotent and diseased the self-proclaimed democratic system had become. And now many more follow, either with half-heated apologies, melodramatic speech, or without any explanation as to why they leave the very government which had stood by them for eons.
The Galactic Senate was faring no better. Official meetings between systems after the galaxy-wide announcement of a new government has spawned strife and uncertainty throughout the Senate chambers, representatives bickering back and forth over which method was viable in confronting this new history-changing development. A good portion of senators viewed this new democracy as a direct challenge to the strength and security of a proud government, voting to have this matter dealt with through aggressive negotiations or force if need be. Some even called for the Jedi to take action in this affair, declaring this a matter best to be resolved by the very guardians of the Republic.
Other senators argued vehemently against the idea. The Republic was a democracy of peace, not war, and they would not submit under pressure. Rather, they should approach this delicate affair with offer of peace and reaching an understanding with the new government formed by independent systems, stating that this whole ordeal can be viewed as a misunderstanding for disgruntled star systems whom believed misguidingly that the Republic has somehow failed them. Solutions must be made through compromise, not violence.
As you can guess, the Republic was facing an inner war with itself whilst the Alliance reaps from the benefits.
And in his office faced with many arguing senators, Darth Sidious was inwardly fuming while Chancellor Palpatine maintained a placid expression, motioning for calmness amongst his fellow politicians. Internally the Sith once again cursed Dooku for putting him through this tedious dilemma. Nothing Sidious couldn't handle, but the Count was clearly intending to make his life a living Hell.
"Senators, we must remain calm in this time of crisis." Palpatine attempted again, making a notion for peace which fell on deaf ears, grimacing by the multiple looks of outrage, indingation and anxiety amongst the representatives. "Fighting amongst ourselves will accomplish nothing towards handling this matter."
"How can you possibly be so calm about this?" The senator from Ord Mantell demanded. "This affects you as much as it does us, Chancellor!"
"Forgive me, your Excellency, but you must understand our plight." A representative from the Tingel Arm Sector stated with more calmness than the senator. "The unexpect foundation of a new government which could already, potentially match up to the Republic-"
"Is a false claim!" The delegate from Malastare interjected with a sneer. "There is no uprising rebellion capable of standing up against our Republic. The Count and his traitorous dogs are nothing more than jesters, mocking everything the Republic has stood for in centuries!"
Sounds of agreement and disagree rang through the office, and Sidious refrained from simply unleashing his exasperation and frying everyone with lightning on the spot. One because it would be a hassle to clean up, and two for the Jedi protector standing beside the weary Chancellor. In his mind's eye, Plagueis was laughing at his old pupil's misfortune from the netherworld.
"Good senators, surely we can resolve this new development without any further clashes." Palpatine tried desperately to appeal to the distraught delegates, smiling wanly. "We must be above the crude notion of bickering if we are to function as a democracy, yes? Let us simply take a breath and calm down."
"That's easy for you to say." One senator commented snidely. "Oh wait, no it isn't. I've heard rumors even your own home planet is leaving the Republic. How do you respond to that, Chancellor?"
"Would that not mean you would be forced to resign?" A worried delegate from Fondor inquired before Palpatine could get a word in. "Naboo's secession from the Republic will look bad for your public image, your Excellency. Your reputation is already called into question by the people for seemingly allowing this to happen. What are you intending to do, Chancellor Palpatine?"
"If we start to point fingers, we become exactly as the new Alliance has claimed." A smooth, well-cultuered tone responded, the young Jedi Knight stepping forward with an aura composed of peace and serenity. Immediately, all noises died down to hear what the young Jedi had to say. "The Chancellor is correct senators; inner conflict will only worsen matters. We must all approach this newfound dilemma with a calm head and clear mind. Only through cooperation can we achieve whatever is needed to solve this conflict."
"Is that what the Jedi has to say?" The Dug from Malastare questioned with an unpleasant scowl. "Should your Order not be acting against this clear threat, young Knight?"
"The Jedi will do whatever we can to secure peace throughout the Republic." The native of Stewjon replied without skipping a beat, refusing to show submissions by the senator's piercing glare. "But in order for anything to get done, we must keep our wits about us and not bow down to pressure. The Republic has endured through worse challenges since its foundation and remained as champion through all of it."
Taking the chance as various Senators mermured over the Knight's words, Palpatine expressed his arms invitingly and stated. "Let us discuss this development in the next session, my friends. For now, I believe we must all take a moment to dwell on our next course of action." At that clear dismassal, many delegates began their departures, although a certain representative of Alderaan lingered with curious eyes on the young Jedi Knight accompanying the Chancellor, before following his fellow politicians. Once the room cleared, the Chancellor heaved a relieved sigh and glanced towards his saviour. "You have the gratitude of the Supreme Chancellor once more, Master Kenobi."
The young Jedi nodded, smiling in faint amusement. "Even the leader of a galactic democracy can't appease the masses alone, Chancellor."
Palpatine chuckled warmly, a weary smile gracing aged features. "Indeed, Master Jedi, indeed." Leaning back against his seat, the politician inquired as Sidious plotted. "I have always valued the insight of your Order, yours moreso. Tell me, do you truly believe there may be a peaceful solution to all of this?"
"We must trust in the Force and what it wills for us, Chancellor." Of course. The typical Jedi dogma. But Sidious sensed the faint trace of hesitation in Kenobi's heart regarding this, and inwardly smiled.
Let Dooku believe he's won the round, for now. Sidious has and always will be ten steps ahead of the curve. If Plagueis could never catch up to the machinations and masterpieces his former apprentice wove like a perfect orechestra, what chances did an idealistic old man with too much confidence have against the likes of a true Sith Lord? If it was war Dooku wanted, then Sidious would be all too happy to oblige.
He had a nasty little surprise just waiting for Dooku. On Kamino, in the Works, in this very office and far off locations, Sidious had everything needed to rid himself of this persistent nuisance once he decided that the self-absorbed Count was of no further entertainment.
In the meantime, there was one little deciding factor that must be removed. Sifo-Dyas. As long as the Jedi lives, then that would cause a spanner considering his involvement with Sidious' magnificent plans. Sifo-Dyas must die before he reveals anything noteworthy to Dooku regarding the secret clone army.
It was time to put his trained toy to the test.
Palpatine, meanwhile, nodded to the Jedi's 'wisdom.' "Of course. Although, I must ask if the Force gifted you this silver tongue of yours, Master Kenobi. Now, tell me, this whole ordeal hasn't affected Master C'Boath's pet project, I hope?"
To say Dooku was having a good day was addressing matters likely. The Count was satisfied enough he could travel to Tatooine and engage a Krayt Dragon without the mastery of the blade.
Finishing a call to Senator Bonteri, the esteemed Sith Lord took a moment to lean back against the comfortable seat, drawing in a warm breath and allowing blissful reality to caress his senses, the Force resonating in triumph and vows of joy. This was probably the closest Dooku has been to... Happy, for lack of a better word, ever since his reunion with Qui-Gon so many years ago. How time flies.
Everything was proceeding as foreseen. The Hutt Cartel has fallen without difficulty; that fool Hondo leading the underworld syndicates to acquiring all the benefits and delivering them on Dooku's doorstep. Of course, the Count wasn't oblivious to not presume that the pirates intended to keep some of the Hutt's treasures for themselves, but Dooku was content enough to allow his 'allies' into believing they would keep some of the riches. Pretense was a favourite activity of his.
Yet best of all, the steady number of worlds declaring their loyalty to the Count's newfound alliance swelled more than pride in the ex-Jedi's chest. All it took were a few steps of improvement; liberating systems, abolishing slavery, utterly decimating a criminal empire. Events the Republic has shown nothing but leniency towards for thousands of years. And those corrupt morons ruling from the Senate was wondering why they were so despised by a good half of the galaxy. Soon, it will be more than half.
Three quarters. Four-fifths.
And then, the entire galaxy will wish for the Republic to fall, burnt down and rebuilt from the ground-up, with Dooku spearheading the new age of prosperity. Victory had never tasted so sweet; perhaps a celebration was in order. A gala to commence the official first victory of the Confederate Alliance? Maybe Senator Bonteri would be more than trhilled to host such an event; it would make up for her needless assassination in a previous time and life.
Well, there was time to dwell on the trivialties later. More work was to be done first. Activating the holo-commincation, the blue hues of Dooku's most prominent bounty hunters emerged above his desk. The three hunters responsible for leading the cleansing of the diseased Hutts.
"You have done well my friends." Dooku addressed the gentlemen smoothly. Human, Gen'Dai and Duros watched him expectantly, even if two of the infamous hunters hid their expression behind steel helmets. "I have transacted half the agreed payment within your accounts. The rest shall follow after completing your next assignment."
"I've already risked a lot facing the wrath of the Hutts, Count." Cad Bane sneered unpleasantly, hardly looking impressed. "If you want my services again, we triple the original deal, 'cause I get the feelin' this is gonna be just as dangerous, if not moreso."
"What is our next target?" Jango inquired stoically whilst the Gen'Dai nodded in agreement with the Duros bounty hunter. Payment was of no consequence to the Count. "We gonna take care of the rest of the underworld scum now, or what?"
Dooku smirked. "In due time, Jango. I still have a use for the organizations yet. After their business dealing with what remains of the Hutt Empire concludes, they must clear out the resources to the Alliance of your next target." One push of a button, the three holograms are shifted back in favour of a blue planet circling before the curious hunters. "Your next target is Zygerria. Long ago slavery was abolished there by the Jedi. But with the Hutts eliminated, they will become the next likely candidates to preserve the slavery legacy. Annhilate the planet's Queen, her staff and any heritage they may possess. It will send a message to all other corrupt worlds that the Confederate Alliance holds no affection for their ill-diseased practices."
"Great." Bane drolled wryly. "Now we're toppling an empire. This will either be the highlight of my career, or my downfall." The blue Duros then tilted his over-compensating fedora. Dooku had to stop himself from sneering at the appalling taste of headwear. "I take it back; quadraple my payment, and that world's all yours."
"Will we deal with the crimes syndicates afterwards?" Jango then questioned, a hint of impatience resting within his tone.
Durge just kept quiet, large arms crossed with a straightened posture. Less words and more action was the Gen'Dai's philosopher. In some ways, he reminds Dooku as a mixtured personality between the other two bounty hunters beside him.
"After the Zygerrian Empire has fallen, its resources provided to the Alliance, then you may annihilate the Pyke Syndicate, Black Sun and all other criminal scum." Dooku nodded, sensing the waves of pleasure enamating from Jango and Durge specifically. "You are free to be as loud or discreet, but your work must send a clear message."
Just the image of a surprised Hondo being shot on the spot brought a pleased intenral smile to the Count's face. That pirate was always more trouble than he's worth.
"Oh." Durge's mechanized voice finally rumbled, radiating amusement and growing anticipation. "We'll send a message alright. You can 'count' on us." Followed with the three figures and planet blinking off, leaving the Count back to his dark office. Dooku once again leaned back, nodding to himself in satisfaction.
If the man was rather honest - and Dooku considered himself a more honest man than many - the Count wondered how Sidious would retaliate in this regard. The rival Sith Lord often held a backup plan behind every backup plan; a contingency beneath the contingency. Sidious planned for every move, every counter, every attempt, trial and error. Sidious was perhaps a greater chessmaster than Dooku could ever hope to compete with.
However, Dooku was more eager than wary. Not to say he would play the other Sith's games and willing fall into the slippery man's hands. Thirteen years under Sidious' thumb has taught Dooku one or two things regarding how the other Dark Lord would react in unprecedented situations. As Dooku told the stubborn Council: One must approach the dark to destroy the dark.
...Yet...
Something has... Changed. Something within himself the Count was not even certain of. He sensed it. His two Jedi allies have sensed it. Even Master Yoda and Darth Sidious respectively must have detected something. Dooku frowned, wary. He didn't truly taste any new sensation that was unusual to him, but the Dark Side in him had yet to shift. He neither felt more powerful nor weakened, despite almost six years now of complete training in preparation for his enemies. The darkness was ever present within the former Jedi, and yet...
As was light.
Scowling, the Count waved it off in favour for keeping his Alliance in check, about to call for Master Narec to join him. Sifo-Dyas was travelling to Dathomir after Mother Talzin has requested for the Alliance's assistance regarding a private affair. The Jedi Master could be trusted to handle the likes of the Nightsisters and anything else that comes his way.
As for Ky, Dooku had a new assignement for the stoic Jedi Master. Now with the Confederacy formed earlier than before, and their statement to the galaxy significant and a desperate call for change, it was time to bring in the other side of neutral systems beyond the corrupt rule of the former Hutts and various criminal organizations. An alligned treaty spearheaded by a certain passionate Duchess, led by a more pacifistic approach to matters.
This time, Satine Kryze will see things his way.
There is no emotion, there is peace.
There is no irritation, but there were inconveniences.
Of course, Sifo-Dyas had anticipated such mild 'warm' welcoming from the Dathomirian sisters. Not this yellow and black Force user attempting to cut him down with the dual-grip of a rare saber art.
Following an urgent summonings to the planet raked in darkness, Dooku had dispatched Sifo-Dyas purely because Mother Talzin specifically requested the Jedi Master as opposed to the Count, claiming there was an issue only one fulfilled with light could resolve. Of course, a disturbance in the Force warned them of there being more to this transmission, so Dooku heeded for his old friend to exercise caution in this matter, vaguely referencing something about Felucia and to be mindful of his surroundings. Sifo-Dyas felt like a lectured Padawan, but it was typical of Dooku to berate those even considered his peers.
Upon approach and arrival to the reddened jungles, the Dark Side claimed dominance, and no wonder. Dathomir shared much history in days of lore. An exiled Jedi Knight asserted herself among the inhabitants of this world and passed on her teachings to the very natives she took over, the teachings and foundations she crafted eventually spiritualized to the witches who hold this planet even today. And around two years before the Ruusan Reformation, a Sith Academy was installed on Dathomir by Lord Kaan.
One foot from the boarding ramp onto the disquieting surface brought shivers down the experienced Master's spine. But he wouldn't be a Jedi with lack of any composure or assurance that the Force would guide him. A small journey towards the dead forest with Talzin's dominion rested, Sifo-Dyas was expecting at least some greeting in the form of daggers or arrows pointed at his back and sides.
Not a sloppy, amateurish Force wielder desperately focusing on strength over skill.
Now, maybe amateur was harsh a critique. The opponent was evidently trained well enough, the Dark Side pouring off the male Zabrak in waves of focused energy, directed from an outside source. Sifo-Dyas heard the warning in the Force just as the assilant leapt from the red mist, intending to stirke the unsuspecting Master on the spot. With a duck and roll, Sifo-Dyas extinguised his ocean blade and met the opponent's bloody hue head-on, pushing the lean Zabrak back with minor force.
His opponent was far from deterred, the double-bladed weapon activating in full and illuminating the foe admist the fog. A figure clad in metallic black armour, keenly designed like the Sith Warriors of old. The darkness in him was different, far too influenced and obviously intergrated by a force beyond Dathomir. It appears one of Dooku's many suspicions regarding their foe proved fruitful.
Sidious, indeed, was grooming more candidates under his sickening cause.
The Zabrak snarled, yellow eyes blazing in sneering contempt, and Sifo-Dyas knew there wasn't time to indulge this revelation, sensing the deception the Dark Lord had woven. Raising his blade defensively, Sifo-Dyas adopted the traditional Form III gesture and waited. His trained opponent wasted no time striking again, and Sifo-Dyas immediately recognized the more brutish tactics of basic Djem-So.
It was as if the Zabrak expected the Jedi's death to happen quickly. Sadly the Sith was mistaken, Sifo-Dyas, having sparred with the Count by occassion, had some rather unique advantages on his side, otherwise the Jedi Master may not have lasted this long. Dooku had provided extensive lessons and advice when facing the Sith menace, Master or Apprentice. As two spinning blades pushed and shoved, sparkling against an azure lightsaber, the Count's stern tip sprung to mind.
"A Sith draws on his anger to sustain him. If a Jedi were to engage one in combat, relying on defense alone, it would be far from enough. The latter would tire and perish quicker than the former. To best a Sith through lightsaber combat alone, deception plays a key role. Draw your opponent in, believing he exhausts you towards your limits, and once the arrogance is palpable, take advantage of it."
Centered in the Force, Sifo-Dyas continued, decades of training as a fully-fledged Master, equipped with the knowledge from Jedi and Dooku alike, Soresu acted against Djem So beautifully, the mist illuminated by the sparks and glows of blue and red. The Master's eyes hardened; this Zabrak had only a few years of training, this was evident. But, frankly, if this was the Sith Master's intent to assassinate the more experienced Jedi, he almost felt affronted.
His opponent grunted and bared sharp teeth, displaying first signs of frustration admist the anger and rigous fury he drew from. It didn't help that the adept was a clear newcomer to dual-wielding lightsabers. Jar'Kai itself was a sacred art among lightsaber combat, something not typically mastered by the average force user. Its disadvantages included reliance on offensive rather than defensive. Another that, for a Jedi, it took several years of practice and experience to become an expert over a singular blade alone. Thirdly, a direct focus on Jar'Kai often negated the urge to improve in many other areas, such as Force prowess or moderation.
These drawbacks were growing more and more clearer the further Sifo-Dyas dueled with his assailant, and it was rather staggering. Dooku claimed that Sidious was the most brilliant and deceptive tactician and Sith in galactic history, yet dispatches a half-trained child with rushed practice in Jar'Kai to rid himself of a Jedi Master?
Or, was the Dark Lord perhaps targeting the shrouded Nightsisters, and Sifo-Dyas just happened to show up admist the affair?
Regardless, Sifo-Dyas refused to allow this incredulity to negate his concentration, parrying and directing all assaults to the side and above the Master. The Zabrak was waning, the beads on his forehead gorwing more present and his anger giving way to strained frustration. Surely Sidious couldn't help sustain the Zabrak's energy for long?
Again, the double-bladed light spun around with a deadly grace, Sifo-Dyas sensing where the intent lay and promptly blocking, repeating the notion and feigning to be on the retreat. Forms III and V battled for supremacy. It was a unqiue relationship, concerning these chosen methods of combat. Djem-So was created for an answer to Soresu's vulnerability to over-reliance on protection, an offspring requiring kinetic energy to wield and emphasis on heavy assasult. Sifo-Dyas concluded that this foe, ill-trained as he was, was likely suited more as brute acolyte for Sidious' being than a true disciple.
One of many pawns, and Sifo-Dyas wasn't far from inclining sympathy for the fallen Zabrak.
The advantage to use Dooku's advice came in full, the Zabrak snarling and making an error with a downward notion with a red blade plunging deep into the ground. Sifo-Dyas spun behind the armoured attacker, swinging an Ataru kick to the foe's back waist, sending him staggering forward. Sifo-Dyas hardly flinched by the tough metal his unprotected boot impacted into.
Quickly recovering, the Zabrak spun to face the steely growled and made a push gesture. Immediately the Master retaliated with his own open palm, the impressively strong Force Push only sending the Jedi skidding a few feet back. Raising his saber readily, the assailant sneered menacingly. "Jedi..."
Sifo-Dyas maintained his blade before him, prepared to continue this battle if need be. Somehow, Sifo-Dyas got the impression that ordering this brute to stand down would be ill-fitting for the moment.
And appropriate too, for the Force provided a timely intervention in the form of assistance.
The Zabrak collasped in roaring pain, too focused on his Jedi opponent to sense his surroundings, feeling the crude sensation of witch lightning before it was too late. Once ceased, the yellow-skinned humanoid weakly managed to look up to his attacker, a dark angel descending from the heavens and standing between him and the observing Jedi, two pale fingers to the forehead all that's required.
"Rest now, fallen child of Dathomir." And the knelt Zabrak, dropping his deactivated blade, fell safely into the waiting arms of loyal Nightsisters, springing from the mists of Dathomir to aid their leader. Turning around, the head of the witches faced the guarded Master and appraised him. "Master Sifo-Dyas, forgive this rather ill-timed welcome."
"Mother Talzin." The Jedi nodded, retreating his blade and clipping the hilt, displaying courtesy. "Dooku sends his regards. It's an honour to finally meet you at face value."
"The honour is all mine, Master Jedi." And with that disembodied voice, Talzin gestured dismissively towards the fallen Nightbrother. "Sisters, take him to a safe sanctity within the temple. I shall handle this." As the sister obliged their leader, Talzin provided a mysterious smile towards Sifo-Dyas. "It appears that Sidious was intending to have you ambushed and killed here, on the homeworld of his own new pawn."
"So it would seem." Sifo-Dyas inclined his head. "So it was not you who sent the transmission?"
"I'm afraid not." Talzin responded, making rather dramatic flairs with his sleeved arms. It was almost disconcerting. "A trap, laid by our shared enemy. Fortunately, nothing on Dathomir transpires without my knowledge. It is fortunate we intervened in time."
"So it is." The Jedi Master smiled politely, bowing slightly to express gratitude. "I am thankful for your assistance, Mother Talzin. And it is gratifying to see that the Nigthsisters have not been harmed by our deceptive foe."
"Think nothing of it, Master Jedi. We are allies to Dooku's new order, after all." Talzin waved dimissively and motioned to the temple. "Come, we shall discuss more at our sanctuary. You are weary from your travels and confrontation just now, I can see. Are you familar with Dathomirian wine, Master Sifo-Dyas?"
Red and green blurred across the room.
"Concentrate!"
"I am!"
Shmi Skywalker observed the spectacle with a small smile. Once, the duel of blades and Force powers was equally fascinating and terrifying to behold. Now, a few years under Dooku's care and service, the aging woman could watch this display with content and carefulness. The Dathomirian and human, both young women, showing off their raw display of skill and training beneath their respective Masters.
And not just through saber combat.
"You're a mess, warlord!"
"You're one to talk, drug dealer!"
But through banter as well. Asajj and Komari traded blows back and forth, through a symphony of vocal insults and saber strikes here and back. Four blades battled, two of green and two of red. Jar'Kai, Shmi had heard Master Narec referenced the technique, explaining it was a rare skill for Force practioners to master. Shmi would probably never fully understand the relationship between the lightsaber and the Force, nor does she pretend to comprehend either all fully. But still, you don't have to always understand something to appreciate the art behind it.
Shmi had to stifle a chuckle, internally thinking now that she was reminding herself of Dooku, whom often fondly referred lightsaber fighting and style to art. The man was a saber enthusiast, and made no hesitation in showing the two girls how its done given the chance, to the other's amusement. Like a grandfather lecturing his grandchildren in the well-aged styles of training passed to the young.
"Blonde nerfherder!"
"You're blonde too!"
"At least I wear it better. Even considering going bald, witch?"
Shmi had both hands clasped before her waist, keeping a firm eye on the exchange. Their teachers had often found the display exasperating, but Shmi considered the sisterly banter endearing. Over time, Komari and Asajj had grown from wary and antagonistic towards one another to that of partners, almost sibling-like.
Komari clearly saw herself as the older sister figure, if they followed that train of thought, criticizing and offering improvements though harsh wordplay whenever she could. Asajj, having a feisty spirit given being raised on a warring world, didn't take the advice lightly, remarking where the ex-Bando Gora member could shove her advice up to.
"Your saber skill is sloppy."
"Funny, yours would be too from all the spice you've been sniffing into."
"Witch!"
"Addict!"
And now it was time for the oldest woman in the room to step in. As though sensing her intent, both young ladies whriled their heads after another saber lock and stepped back from one another, de-igniting their weapons. Shmi smiled knowingly. "I think you two have had enough practice for the day, don't you?"
"I disagree." Komari sneered, but without malice. "My oh-so esteemed Master is counting on me to improve everyday. And I have to drag this ungrateful whelp with me with her Master out doing some Jedi work."
Asajj smirked. "You're simply jealous that it doesn't take much to impress my Master."
Shmi didn't need the Force to sense Komari's boiling intent. Firm hands placed against the girl's shoulder, preventing one from pouncing on the other like a nexu cat. "That's quite enough." That warm voice held a newfound edge to it, stopping the two in their tracks. Shmi glanced between calmly, but those brown eyes held a new sternness to it. "I'm sure your teachers would wish for you both to spar together without trying to severely harm one another, certainly?"
"You'd be surprised..." Komari mumbled, both she and Asajj refusing to meet the older woman's look.
Sighing in fond tiredness, Shmi smiled lightly and walked in-between the two girls, pressing her hands to their backs and guiding them away from the training arena. "Rest and relaxation are as essentially vital to training than sparring and, in your girl's case, wordplay. Now, I don't knbow about you two, but watching that spectacular duel has left me quite famished. How about Tatooine stew with Serrenian rice? You may chop up the bantha again, Asajj, and you may peel the carrots Komari."
"...Could we watch a holomovie afterwards?" Asajj asked rather hesitantly.
Komari snorted, but Shmi met the young pale woman's hopeful face with a warm bright smile. "I shall guess; the one involving the Kashyyyk uprising against the tyrannical Trandoshan empire again, yes?"
Asajj's answering grin warmed her heart, even if Komari made another comment which resulted with more exchanged bickering as they advanced down to the kitchen of the palace. Shmi never had daughters, but these two, having been under her care for a few years now, had a strong place in the aging woman's heart, and would never be replaced by anyone.
There was turmoil in the Force.
Well, that much wasn't news nowadays. Even the Youngling in their little creche's could sense the massive tides changing through the Living Force, startling the children and caused their distress. Qui-Gon thought he had never seen the caretakers appear so dishreveled.
But that was the least of his worries.
Oh, don't get him wrong, the major shift in the Force was a great cause to be disturbed and upset, even by the most wisest among the Masters. Qui-Gon was as equally disquieted by the imbalance changing across the flowing currents as his peers. Ever since the announcement made by his former teacher, the Council had confined themselves to the meeting chambers for a majority of the day, happening since the galactic-wide broadcast. Qui-Gon had yet to see any sight of Mace or Master Yoda until then.
But right now, they weren't the Master's concern. The Council can agree and conjure up baseless assumptions all they want, but Qui-Gon's focus was on a particular Jedi who took this newfound opposition to the Republic the hardest among the whole Order.
Ever since the broadcast, Anakin had confined himself too, but only their shared quarters. Of course he'd join the classes, briefings and training sessions when need be. But beyond that, Qui-Gon found that his own pupil was a torrent of emotions, refusing to release these feelings to the Force or confiding in his own Master about it. Now, Qui-Gon himself was never as close as he felt with Anakin towards his old Master Dooku, but Qui-Gon couldn't recall a time where he was under stress and became so reluctant to share these concerns with the ex-Jedi.
Of course, Dooku wasn't hesitant in calling his first student out on it and demanding him to share these worries. Qui-Gon often missed the tactless commands of his former teacher.
But the idea that Anakin, of all people, would close himself off through from people and through the Force, even blocking their own bond, to Qui-Gon... It hurt.
It hurt quite a lot.
The Jedi Master sighed, releasing his own inner insecurities to the Force and reaching the doors to their shared quarters, expecting Anakin, despite shielding himself, to be inside, focusing on raparing another toy model of a favourite speeder, or watching a holo-recording regarding another illegal Podrace. Usually what Anakin does when he was upset and Qui-Gon has yet to confront him about it.
That brought a faint smile to his face, but Qui-Gon composed himself. The boy was always worried about his own mother, continously asking his Master admist the early stages of his apprenticeship to one day liberate Shmi from slavery. The Jedi Master had vowed to do just that, but this... Unexpected development must have amplified Anakin's concerns and could feel like a personal betrayal against Qui-Gon.
It would break Qui-Gon's heart to think that Anakin distrusted him...
Straightening, Qui-Gon entered the room and found it immediately vacant. Perking a brow, expecting to see Anakin staring sullenly on the couch at a recording, the Master deduced he must be in his bedroom, striding over to the door beyond the small kitchen and providing a brief knock on the door, politely tapping against soft brown metal.
"Anakin, open up."
No response, and Qui-Gon refrained from sighing. Obi-Wan was never this reluctant. Another tried knock.
"Anakin."
Nothing.
"Anakin, open the door."
Nothing.
"If you don't open this door right now Anakin, I will enter myself."
Still an absent answer.
The Jedi Master sighed. "Very well, you've forced my hand." And with the Force, made one gesture and the door slid open, light from the main room pouring into the tight small quarters. Qui-Gon anticipated seeing his young student curled up in his bed, or toying with a ship model.
Not a clean bed with no sign of anything used in sight.
Qui-Gon's brow furrowed. Perhaps Anakin went off to eat in the dining hall, or busy himself with studies, lightsaber practice or repairing a starship; a trait which many Jedi frowned upon him doing for whatever reason. Qui-Gon had to roll at his eyes at that implied insinuation once fellow Masters mentioned it to him. Really, what harm would it do for the boy indulging in an activity which, for all intents and purposes, emphasizies on focus and control in itself?
So why did the Jedi Master felt a prickle through the Force that something was amiss, something far different than the shifting tides caused by his old Master's new Confederacy...?
A beep in his robes, and Qui-Gon hastily pulled the comling to his mouth. "Master Qui-Gon here."
"Master Jedi." A voice from a well-known engineer down in the Jedi Temple Hanger. "Was your Padawan provided with permission to utilize a starship for a mission?"
Something sunk in the Master's tiring being, replying cautiously. "Could you clarify on that...?"
"He claims the Council has sent your Padawan on a mission, strictly confidential. Though I do believe I heard him mention something about Serenno."
The comlink almost fell from trembling hands.
Anakin hated having to lie.
At leats, lying to decent people like the ones running the temple hanger. On Tatooine it was an unspoken social acceptance to lie and decieve others, if they are gullible enough. Without much difficulty Anakin piloted the vacant Jedi Transport from Coruscant's atmosphere, inputting the destination and steeling himself, teeth grit and youthful eyes blazing in determination.
He heard the rumours, that Count Dooku was the second Sith. And now, he had his mother. His own mother, woven into his false web of death and destruction. Well not for long. Anakin was strong enough, he could feel it. Strong enough to take on some old man, Sith or no, and save his mother from suffering any longer. Years of training and guidance prepared the young Padawan to this very day. Today, he'll prove himself among the Jedi Order, rescue his mother and restore peace and justice to the galaxy, at last, as the stars and black space was replaced by blueness.
Hang on mom. I'm coming to save you!