This is cross-posted on ao3 under a series called The Chaos Chronicles that I am co-writing with a few other ao3 authors. As of now, three chapters are up there, and I'll get to adding all the current chapters to ffn eventually.
For now, I hope Y'all enjoy this little train wreck of ours
Summary: Luke Skywalker thought that he would be dead for certain when he was swallowed by a Krayt, but sometimes things don't work out as expected, and Luke hardly expected to find himself thousands of lightyears away from Tatooine in a time that is not his own. Then again, if the Desert had taught him anything, it's how to adapt, and he would be an idiot to refuse the Count of Sereno's generous job offer, though he would soon find out just how much that entails.
Luke had only meant to find a place to cool down after the now, as of late, customary weekly confrontation with his uncle, not get completely lost in the desert.
Uncle Owen had pestered him into yet another season of harvesting, though he had told himself it was only Aunt Beru's gentle persuasion that had convinced him to stay. While he was happy to help his Aunt and Uncle, he did not appreciate the dustball that was Tatooine. He had suspicions for a long time now that they were hiding something from him. They knew he had no love for Tatooine—he'd griped about it on many occasions—and it was the source of constant friction between him and his uncle. The constant feeling of being kept under close watch was suffocating, even on a farm that had so much open space.
That was how Luke Skywalker found himself alone in the desert with the twin suns as his only companion, which were just setting under the horizon.
He'd heard stories of the sand people and what they did to anyone who stayed in the desert, especially after dark. He wasn't stupid; he'd ridden his speeder out with plenty of fuel and supplies, but the speeder had broken down and now refused to work. It was a miracle as it was that the speeder had gotten him this far out!
Wherever here was.
Luke tried for the umpteenth time to restart the old engine. It sputtered, coughed some smoke, and died. Muttering to himself about lost causes, Luke took a moment to absorb the scenery around him. The suns threw an orange glow on everything and lit up the small butte in the distance. He'd have to hike to it and get a higher vantage point on the desert around him if he had any hopes of getting back to the moisture farm in one piece. There were no illusions in Luke's mind. If he was to survive the wrath of the desert, he'd have to move quickly. It took little time to rummage through the speeders supplies and slide them into a knapsack. With a short farewell to the speeder, Luke turned and started walking.
The three moons were almost to the top of the sky when Luke finally finished scaling the rocky cliffside. He sat on top of the mountain taking time to catch his breath. The desert went on as far as Luke could see. A wind rattled through the nearby rocks, causing Luke to draw in on himself. Deserts may be known for their heat, but the cold at night was just as dangerous.
Luke took a moment to really examine the relatively flat scenery at the cliff's plateau. He thought he saw the faint cragged outline of Beggar's Canyon back the way he thought he'd come. Keeping an eye on his orientation, Luke made his way down the rocky embankment trying to not slide or cause a rock slide. The down was much quicker and Luke was just getting to the deeper sand when a thrill of something went through him. Like fear, but more tangible, and more urgent. Luke stood on the rocks, watching the sand shift in the quiet that was the desert at night. The only sound was the wind whipping through occasionally and stirring up the grit.
"I'm too tired for this. I just want to be back on the farm, snoring on my bunk," Luke grumbled, and the lack of sleep wasn't helping his mood.
Pushing away the odd feeling, Luke stepped out onto the sand, ignoring the shifting and started striding towards the faint outline of Beggar's Canyon, now harder to see through the upkick of dust. The almost tangible feeling shrieked at him, as the sand started moving like what Luke imagined water would.
He knew immediately what this was. It'd been rumored, but no one who ever had encounters ever survived to tell the tale.
Krayt dragons.
Fierce protectors of their nest, and predator of the weak. Panic rose in Luke's chest and he scrambled against the waves of sand towards the rocky outcropping. A scream split the air. Not a human one. If Luke hadn't been running he might've let out a scream of his own in response to the ear splitting sound.
The rock outcropping was just within reach when the sand flew up around him like the unprovoked rage of Tatooine's sandstorms, the brilliant light of Tatooine's moons illuminated the shadow of the dragon and it descended. Blackness engulfed Luke.
When Luke came to, it was not to the darkness of a belly of a dragon, or even the grit filled desert air, but a cool breeze. Luke started at the sky, somehow now a delicate shade of violet. To say Luke recognized the sound of trickling water would be a lie. There was never enough water for it to actually flow on Tatooine.
With that thought at the forefront, Luke pushed himself upright and promptly gaped. Enormous plants in more shapes and sizes than Luke could've imagined were everywhere, stretching higher than he would have even thought possible, even in his imagination. A variety of small bushes grew up in delicate groupings all around. The trickling that he heard was from a stream that slipped through the peaceful grove.
Clearly, this was not Tatooine.
And if this was not Tatooine, then where was he? Not only that, but how the kriff did he get there? Where was 'there'?
"Am I...dead?"
Luke voiced the thought tentatively; it's not like he would like to be dead, but it is the only explanation that made sense. No one saved him, nor did he travel. He just...appeared. That kind of thing only happens when someone dies.
"Might as well enjoy it, I guess."
Luke stood on shaking legs and reached up to touch the leaves on a tree. The texture was oddly smooth. The leaf ripped and crumbled under his touch. Bits and pieces of the leaf drifted down to settle on the dusty patch Luke had been lying on. The edges of the leaf felt not unlike the familiar grit of desert sand in how it bit into the soft of his hand. Quietly marveling at the foreign object, Luke wobbled over to the edge of the small stream and kneeling down, dipped his hands in.
"Oh."
This was both everything and nothing like what he'd expected water to be. Water you didn't have to hoard and protect. It was chilled and the current pushed against Luke's hands in a mesmerizing fashion. There was enough water there to pay for the taxes on the farm for over a year, but it was just there, free for anyone to dip their fingers in or drink without cost. If he was truly dead, then the stories of riches earned in life given in death were proving true, considering there was freely available water in his surroundings.
Would anyone judge him for drinking here and now? Had he earned it if he was dead? A sharp glance around the space revealed that he was indeed alone. Luke cupped his hands and drew water up and carefully took a sip. Cool on his tongue, it slid down his throat washing away the last traces of Tatooine sand.
The peace and tranquility only lasts so long before the panic sets in. If he's dead he doesn't want to be alone. Luke shook his hands dry and stood, looking up at the sky where two moons, one positively gigantic, and the other a much more reasonable size. Using the moons as a basis point, Luke heads north.
"At least I hope it's north."
The pace Luke sets brings him out of the greenery and into a wide area of what he'd heard only stories of. Where sand would've been on Tatooine is what he's heard is called grass. It waves with the breeze and tickles his hands. Off in the distance, Luke could just make out a settlement.
"Well, this is ironic. Here we go again...at least I'm already dead."
As opposed to his last trek towards civilization, there was no immediate threat to his life. Or was it soul now? As such, it was less of a trek as it was a pleasant walk with the civilization slowly getting bigger to show a small town. Small bugs hummed around Luke as he brushed through the grass, fingers brushing through it. It was all going rather pleasantly until Luke's foot sunk down into the earth and gave Luke pause. He looked down and marveled again.
"Wet sand? But not quicksand?"
He plunged his hands into the wet ground and was rewarded with a sticky substance that stuck to him and made a sucking noise as he pulled free. Only, he didn't pull free. It stayed on him and made his hands feel funny. Luke started shaking his hands to get rid of the substance but only succeeded in flinging bits and pieces of the semi-solid goop everywhere.
Frowning in discomfort, Luke proceeded to wipe his hands down his garments and froze. The cream shirt he'd been wearing was now stained with a color that looked uncomfortably like bantha poodoo. With a groan, Luke gave up trying to get rid of the goop and continued on his way, pausing every now and then to examine a bug or a plant or really anything that took his fancy. It wasn't long before something else interrupted Luke's casual stroll through unfamiliar territory. At first, Luke thought the growl was a predator or a massiff, but then the sound was accompanied by a pinching sensation in Luke's stomach he easily recognized as hunger.
"I thought dead people didn't need to eat…"
It didn't strike Luke as too odd though, so when the next bug caught his attention—a bug that made an annoying chirping noise—he promptly popped it into his mouth and enjoyed the crunch and texture of the little critter.
It wasn't more than a momentary pause, as the insects were plentiful and Luke had a pleasant time snacking the entire way towards the town. Stepping across the space where a fence had been built between the fascinating thing called grass and the town was like entering a different dimension. There was a night market bustling with life and small children were running around through the streets chasing one another. The stalls were filled with all manner of colorful items, from baskets woven from actual grass. (Luke was appalled by this until he remembered that it covered most of the ground here) There was one stall where a man operated a spinning wheel with a familiar looking substance on the center. He was spinning it and smoothing it into different shapes when Luke came up to watch.
"Who dragged you through the mud, kid?"
It wasn't quite what he was expecting the man to say at his presence, but Luke went with it.
"Mud? I wasn't dragged through anything...I just had a question for you."
The man didn't look up from his work, instead adding another pile of goop onto the spinning contraption before answering.
"Just look at your clothes, boy. You're covered in mud."
Luke glanced down at the odd stains from the goop out in the grass dunes.
"Oh, I guess I am."
The man looked up at Luke and chuckled.
"You had a question?"
Luke nodded, thoroughly entranced in the man's work. Under his fingers, the pile of unassuming goop had been transformed into a vase.
"What is it that you're using to make that?"
It hadn't been the question Luke was aiming for, but it was on his mind so he didn't amend the phrase. The man motioned for Luke to crouch next to him and Luke did so.
"Here son. It's clay. Would you like to try?"
Luke nodded eagerly and the man showed him how to shape the clay into a sloppy imitation of the vase the man had been making. Luke was enjoying moving the clay in every which way, letting the texture slide through his hands when the man asked another question.
"Got a name, boy? I'm Lutum"
"I'm Luke, Luke Skywalker."
Luke responded absentmindedly, the man was nodding, deep in thought and Luke took the opportunity to ask a question he'd had since he'd seen all of the people in the town.
"Uh, if you don't mind me asking…"
The man nodded his assent and Luke continued.
"How did you die?"
The man sputtered and the clay that had begun taking shape underneath his hands squelched oddly and spun up in funny shapes not unlike the large plants Luke had seen earlier.
"Die? I'm not dead, Luke. And as far as I can tell it, neither are you."
"Oh."
Was all that Luke could bring himself to say. He felt kinda stupid for assuming, though to be fair, he did just get eaten by a Krayt—only Ekkreth himself could ever escape a situation like that— and he still didn't know where in sith hells he was nor how he had gotten here.
"I.." Luke started, not sure how to explain his predicament "I just have no idea how I got here. Can you tell me where I am?"
"Did your ship get stranded? You're on the Separatist planet of Serenno, Luke."
"Separatist? What are you talking about? What year is it?"
Hearing the year seemed to revoke Luke's theory of him being dead, which he isn't according to Lutum. But, as far as Luke knew, it was seeming more and more likely that he was indeed on another planet...in the past...without any idea of how he had traveled literal lightyears through space (and time too apparently) without ever having set foot on a ship.
The shock he felt must have shown through, because before he knew it, he was seated and given a cup of something to drink. He was absentmindedly sipping on the cup of water("made of clay" he thought), tasting the water, though not savoring it like he would normally have. There was simply too much going on in his head to focus on something as simple, though priceless on Tatooine, as an entire cup of water. Water at least, was something he knew.
The past, however, was something that seemed far more distant.
He knew the Empire formed before he was born, at least enough about the clone wars to pass his classes growing up to prepare himself to apply for the Imperial Academy.
Finding himself experiencing the past, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter.
"Are you gonna be alright kid?"
"I...I think so. I've got to go. Thank you for showing me the clay thing. It was cool."
Luke offered a tentative grin at Lutum and stood, brushing small bits of dried mud, accumulated dust, and clay off before heading towards the grass dunes. The night market had slowly been winding down (during Luke's chat with) while Luke had been chatting with Lutum, and now they were all packing up the vending stalls. The lights slowly flickered out, and Luke was left standing on the edge of town with the sole light coming from the moons and stars above. His only company was his spinning thoughts.
Luke knew next to nothing about Serenno since most of the information on the Clone Wars had been redacted and reformed many times. Or so Uncle Owen had said. What he did know was that there was a lot of ideology behind the Separatist movement that Aunt Beru had sometimes talked about and that it had been led by the Count of Serenno. A man called Dooku.
A plan began to formulate in Luke's mind as he walked.
By the time his plan had been fully thought out Luke had reached the place of his unceremonious drop into the past. The dust puffed a little bit as he sat down in it and leaned back against a nearby plant. The little grove was tucked up close to the side of a sheer cliff face that went up for a while, and Luke knew the other direction led to the small town, but when Luke looked up at the cliff face, letting his eyes travel all the way to the top it was then that he saw it. An ominous building sat atop the cliff as if overlooking the planet as a whole.
"Well if there is anywhere a Count lives, it's gotta be there."
It only took a moment of contemplation before Luke had decided to climb. It wasn't the first cliff that he had climbed tonight.
"Thanks a lot, powers that be."
Luke had just gotten over the crest of the cliff when a droid patrol rounded the corner of the land underneath the large building. They caught sight of him and closed distance quickly, blasters raised and mechanical voices demanding explanation.
"Hey you! You're not supposed to be up here!"
"Yeah! You're not supposed to be up here!"
The droids (B1s Luke noted) continued to squabble between themselves until Luke interrupted.
"I know I'm not supposed to be up here, but I'm kind of looking for work...here seemed like a good place to start. I'm not even armed. See!"
Luke raised his hands in emphasis and turned around in a slow circle while the B1s watched him in silence. There was a faint buzz that Luke had come to associate with older comm units receiving transmissions. Both units zoned in on Luke and firmly grasped him between them.
"Does this mean I get to see the guy in charge?"
The B1 on the left started to respond, but was shushed by the other droid. Luke was marched past pillars and through several halls to a set of turbolifts. There an entire guard of what Luke vaguely recognized as IG-1000s, or Magna droids as they were more commonly known, was stationed fully prepared to pounce on Luke.
"Just who do they think I am?"
"We don't know who you are, but impostor is actually fitting."
Shit. Had he said that aloud?
"Well, I can tell you now that this is just overkill."
Trust a droid to not be phased. The group of droids herded Luke into the turbolifts with two more Magnas. The turbolift went up and opened at what Luke guessed was near the top of the estate. He stepped out into the spacious room. A large desk with a high back chair sat in front of a large yellowish orange tinted window. Doors led to the left and right, presumably to private living quarters or more offices. There were several droids all lining the sides like an honor guard of sorts, but Luke was more than sure they were here to contain whatever threat they thought he was.
"Well Skywalker. I did not think you would be so foolish as to come to my homeworld."
A deep voice with a lilting Coruscanti accent shot through the room. The chair slowly spun around to reveal the speaker. The aged man sitting behind the desk was nothing like what Luke had been expecting. The only thing that held true as to the image of what the Count and leader of the Separatist forces was supposed to look like with Aunt Beru's description was powerful. This man certainly held a poise above anyone Luke had ever run into.
"I'm sorry if I'm intruding...I didn't really intend to be on your planet, sir."
The man was silent, so Luke filled it with his own voice.
"Also, do I know you? I only told one person who I am and I've been on planet for less than 6 hours."
The awkward silence continued with the Count keeping eye contact with Luke. Luke shuffled a bit with the uninterrupted attention and opened his mouth again but the Count beat him to it.
"Sithspit. You aren't Skywalker."
"Excuse you?"
"You are not Skywalker."
"On the contrary, I am Skywalker."
Silence was something Luke was beginning to associate with the Count. Did he have a hearing problem?
"I don't know who you are though...not really, that is."
The Count rose from his seat and started pacing in front of the large window before turning back towards Luke.
"I am Count Dooku of Serenno. I lead the Confederacy of Independent Systems and YOU... you are NOT Skywalker."
"Luke Skywalker, at your service," Luke exclaimed and bowed slightly.
Count Dooku glared and made no move to answer Luke.
"I was serious about the service bit...I'm kind of lost and broke at the moment."
"And what exactly do you think you could do for me? I have enough people and thus no need for-" he stopped for a moment, his eyes scanning Luke once again "-someone of your likes."
Luke resisted the urge to roll his eyes as the illustrious Count turned back to the window again. Instead, Luke moved over to the nearest battle droid and poked a vulnerable bit in between a joint and the droid's head. The B1 literally just fell apart at Luke's touch very much surprising him and causing the Count to whip around at the sound of the bolts clattering around on the floor.
"Uh...sorry?"
Luke tried to be placating but the Count just made an irritated noise.
"These droids are kind of crappy, y'know? I mean just look at this one!"
Luke stepped over the pile of parts and examined another droid.
Count Dooku then unfortunately lost the last bit of his patience.
"Guards! Take him away and lock him somewhere!"
At that command four Magna guards waltzed into Dooku's office and bound the hands of sheepishly smiling Luke behind his back.
Honestly, even Tatooine slavers had better binders. He should know, having been jumped a multitude of times and having to escape before someone planted a transmitter. He would've just tossed them aside the moment he unlocked them (which was about twenty meters down the corridor leading from the Count's Conceited's office) but those droids around him looked, well, he could almost say impressive. Definitely better than those useless B1s.
But what he really couldn't comprehend, was why two of the guard droids stayed with him in his terribly uncomfortable cell. That was just plain overkill. Well, at least officially. He could call it overkill, considering his luck, at perhaps six or seven.
So… what exactly was he working with?
He stared at the guards, their gaze unrelenting as his. One's eye light flickered a little though. He'd call that a win. Neck seemed like a nice weak point. Still, unmoving; some might call them unnerving of scarry.
Also, those lightning thingies were slightly concerning. Fine. Left or right? Mordor - left.
Luke Skywalker leapt from his sitting position on the terribly uncomfortable bunk, his shackles falling down along with the left Magna droid he had leapt at and unfortunately had not enough fast computing systems to dodge said leaping Skywalker.
It crashed, its eyes flickered and died.
The other droid finally realized what was happening. It spun around, turning on its lightning thingie and leaping at Luke.
If Luke had enough big heart to care about those who dared to attack him, he would pity the poor droid. Or practically anyone who ever dared to attack a Skywalker, as it was, there was no love to be spared for the likes of such.
He pried the lightning thingie from the grasp of the fallen droid, rolled aside and struck against the other droid. He didn't miss. He had never missed.
The other droid fell down. Now, he had two options. Either running away then or getting some help. He smiled viciously at the droid parts on the ground. He was sure to have some fun.
The door of the considerably normal holding cell of CIS burst into pieces with a cloud of smokes and glitter. (No one, not even Luke could tell you after the fact where the glitter had come from.)
Two somewhat Magna guards marched outside. They looked around and one of them gestured to someone still in the cell. At that a young man, boy really, peeked out from the door and then followed the odd droids.
It was time to get away from this planet.
The escape through the Count's palace was surprisingly uneventful. They only ran into, like fifty B1s and six other Magna junks. There was no way Luke would call them anything else. How were they even considered dangerous? There could be no such doubt about his two companions. They were made from the same parts as the originals, but this time rebuilt by a Skywalker. And what more, an angry and bloodthirsty Skywalker in need of fighters. Skywalker on a hunt. Yes, fear for your life.
Once they reached the city, Luke planned on acquiring a ship and finding his way from that planet and if possible as far as he could manage to get from Count Dooku. Oh, how a nice dream that had been; it shattered the moment he got to the docks.
"Very impressive," Count Dooku commented as he stood there and inspected the young man once again. He wasn't Anakin, but he was still very talented. And powerful.
"I'm glad I could impress you," Luke replied, "but I don't like it here and I'm leaving. Your hospitality leaves much to be desired." Luke tried to go around the Count but was interrupted by a humming sound, warmth, burning on his leg, but nothing really bad. He looked down and saw a bright red beam of light. He quickly stepped back.
"Oh, please, don't make me fight you," he told the Count with mock disappointment.
"On the contrary, I'm going to offer you a job, since you claim to need one and have proven yourself. You are skilled and skill is something I can appreciate," the Count replied. Luke looked (Luke'd?) sceptically at him. He'd met people like him before; slavers. And yet, he was sure the Count was telling the truth. And he really did need a change of clothes.
"How can I be sure you won't lock me up again?," Luke inquired.
"That is indeed a good question. But I won't do it again. Such things are done only to my enemies and threats, not allies," the Count countered
"So I was a threat before? Really? I'm just a kid from nowhere."
"Oh, dear, I doubt that."
Luke was surprised at the service he was provided with. He had been given a nice suite of rooms that included a workshop, bathroom with flowing water (!), bedroom and… A closet. A whole room ready to be filled with clothing and already with some basic tunics and trousers. All black. Not that he minded that color, just… some variety would be nice. But once he washed himself and suited up, he had to admit he looked good in black. Not just good, great. Fine, now he had to amuse himself somehow. If only he still had those magna's he had modified. He definitely could do even better with them in a workshop.
But what a luck it had been, that before he could get bored even more or at least bored enough to try to climb in the closet, someone knocked on the main door of his suite.
He tensed. Who could possibly be that? He was sure it wasn't the Count. And definitely not someone dangerous to him now, but not a droid at the same time. It felt alive. He slowly creeped to the door and then, when the knock sounded again, swiftly opened them.
There was standing a young human male, maybe a little older than Luke, with a slightly frightened expression in his face. Not that Luke was surprised; he had a tendency to scare people.
"I bear a message from Count Dooku. He expects you for dinner immediately," the man, probably a servant, announced. Luke blinked, befuddled by the swift change in hospitality. His employer wanted to eat with him now after what? Not even twelve hours after being locked up in a cell. That wasn't some normal policy, was it?
"Uh, thank you, I suppose?" Luke replied unsure what he should say.
"Will you, please, follow me to the dining room, sir?" the servant asked. Great, Luke wouldn't have to spend who knows how long running around trying to find his way.
The servant led Luke through a labyrinth of corridors until they reached a tall wooden door adorned with fold and glass patterns. The servant opened them and Luke found himself looking into a large dining room with an impressive table set for two. The count was seated in the front, facing the way Luke came in. He stood up to greet his guest.
"Good to see you all cleaned and dressed in something new," the Count commented on Luke's appearance. "Black suits you."
"Thank you, sir," Luke responded politely. He had just gotten on Count's good side, no need to antagonize him, right?
The moment Luke seated himself on the chair next to Count's, another servant pushed it forward and the surprised young man helplessly flopped down. The Count didn't seem surprised at all, "noble bastard".
"Now, if you will," the Count of Serenno began as two servants brought the first course, "I would like to discuss your… position."
"And what exactly is my job to do?" At that the Count seemed to hesitate a little as if contemplating his words he had not said yet. Was it so important that even a man like the Count of Serenno had to weigh his words? The man had to be used to dealing with politicians; some random kid from a backwater planet couldn't be that important, could he?
Could he?
Well, it's not like Count would know about time traveling, right? Right? Or maybe he didn't even need to know and there was something else. But what?
"I would like to offer you a job as a technician for my forces on my flagship," the Count proclaimed. Luke froze. Was the man making fun of him or it just happened out of nothing that his childhood dream was to become true?
"But before you accept," the Count continued, "there is one thing you need to know."
Dread squeezed Luke's insides. What did the man want? Was it something terrible? Was…
"There is an energy of sorts in this space. It's called the Force. Some people can use it to do… feats usually regarded as impossible. I can use the Force. And so can you," the Count said and gestured slightly to Luke.
"And I am a Jedi master," Luke replied dryly.
"I really doubt that, but perhaps you would believe me when I show you it's power," the Count smiled. "But now, I'd rather talked about your other skills, if you are willing to share with me."
And Luke began talking. Hesitantly at first, but slowly talking more and more, while he also kept some things secret. Like the fact he was apparently from the future.
The meal progressed without any more conversation and Luke was fine with that. Whatever the Count had been hinting at with the force thing was bugging him. Luke, on the other hand, was content to pick at the extensive meal in front of him while pondering the nature of his current predicament.
And what a meal it was. There were dozens of dishes layed out with foods he had never seen before. Luke took his time navigating through the fruits first, then made his way to the main course, where he savored every bite of the heavily flavored meat. Finally, he got to the soup, and it was still steaming hot.
Luke had been watching the Count and trying to copy the man's elegant grace, but that had long since been abandoned. Now, Luke sat idly stirring the soup he'd just been handed.
"Are you quite through with playing with your food?"
Luke grinned sheepishly and set the spoon down. There was just so much food here. He didn't need to eat all of it and it just kept coming! It felt like such a waste for one meal.
"Forgive me, Count. But I don't think I could eat another bite."
The Count lifted one immaculate eyebrow and looked at the many plates and dishes of half eaten foods in front of the farmboy.
"Why have you not finished your meal?"
Luke followed the Counts gaze to the table and the subsequent dishes.
"I...uh, did I mention that I don't exactly herald from a place known for riches?"
He asked pointedly, and then bit his tongue. That was NOT something someone would say to their employer right off the bat, especially not at the first dinner! He'd been hired for less than 24 hours and here he was messing it up again. He braced himself for any sort of disappointment but it never came. What did was a brief burst of laughter.
"My boy, you had mentioned it! I imagined you would want to try new things!"
Luke glanced up at the Count. He had the barest hint of a smile and Luke felt like the man was maybe embarrassed? About being heard laughing?
"Begging your pardon, but did you ask me?"
It was out of Luke's mouth before he had fully realized what he'd said. Now he'd really done it.
"Forgive me, I did not."
That was not the answer Luke had expected. But he'd take it.
"My apologies as well, Count. If we may…"
The Count inclined his head to the barest degree of acknowledgement.
"What exactly do you want me doing for you? I can't exactly sit around here forever. I'd like to get started sooner rather than later."
The Count seemed thoughtful, he waved over the servants who then began to clear the table.
"You've told me a great deal about what you are capable of, young man. However, I believe seeing this in person would benefit the two of us and our agreement most especially since I will be showing you my own talents?"
A trade of sorts then. Luke could manage that. The expansive table and it's spread of delicacies was removed quickly and the Count swept up from his seat. Luke hastened to join the man, almost tripping on the trailing tablecloth but managing to seem fine when the Count turned back towards him.
"Come along, Skywalker."
Luke would've expected it to take longer to get to the bottom floor (he was starting to believe that the ground floor no longer existed). A dangerous sort of feel had started to permeate around the Count and Luke was nervous. What exactly was the most illustrious Count going to show him? What did he mean that Luke had this power? It all boiled down to WHAT. Aunt Beru had often talked about the ideology of the Separatists, but always with a grain of salt. Their methodology, she said, left much to be desired.
The unlikely pair reached the ground floor and the Count hardly paused but continued out through the rather large front door. Luke had been a bit too distracted to really pay it any mind on his way in, but now that he looked at it...it was huge. The part of his mind that would rather be anywhere but here assessed the weight of the door and the fact that one good blow to the mechanism that allowed it to slide open would probably damage it enough to glitch either open or shut. Definitely not an ideal door for a fortress. The Count halted his trot and Luke almost bumped into him. The energy had built to a crescendo and it felt like Luke was being compressed on all sides in his mind. The Count stretched out his hands and the large triangular monoliths shuddered in their bases and rose up over Luke's head and kept rising.
Luke glanced between the Count and the many monoliths that had floated into a pattern high above their heads. The Count hadn't even twitched. What was more odd to Luke was that now that he saw the unlikely phenomenon, he could also feel things. Or maybe he'd always been able to and just hadn't focused on it and maybe, maybe if he tried…
A surge of power crashed into him like a strong wind and he would have fallen had he not stood firmly on the ground, umoving, solid. He could feel the stones the Count was lifting, the Count himself was like a stream of cold water. The stone behind his feet shook and he felt it cracking.
Awareness of even the tiniest creatures filled Luke's mind. The Count's presence shone out in a way Luke couldn't describe. There were millions of creatures surrounding the estate and Luke could distantly feel the people he'd seen in the village.
Even Lutum, who in this odd mindscape, felt very much like his clay. Malleable, ever changing, yet unmoving. A contradiction. It was too much. Luke tried to shut his mind to all of this to drown out the noise, panicking internally. The voices of a thousand thoughts drifting around him in a horrifying tempest of decisions, feelings, and convictions. Luke could both barely feel and feel all to well the stones setting back into their bases as the Count concluded his demonstration. The Count's thoughts and feelings of triumph and power broadcasted out to all who could hear. Luke covered his ears in a futile attempt to stop the noise and sank to the ground in a crouch. The tempest swirls around Luke and he tries his hardest to focus on his breathing and the things that are real in the here and now. He feels the life of a creature end as a predator finishes its hunt. He feels the anguish in the nearby town of a woman. He feels hopeless and surrounded and the swirling maelstrom that is the Count is swallowed up in all of the noise. Luke can't help it when he feels the pain. There is so much of it! He lets out a mental (and maybe physical shriek) and curls into a ball, tears streaming. It's the hands that bring him back. Gentle caress on his back and the accented lilt somewhere above him.
"Breath. That's it. Focus on me."
The world, both the real one and the one in Luke's mind, slides back into place as the sound and cacophony is muted as if behind closed doors.
"I should have realized you'd have no practical experience with shielding. I am sorry."
The Count was kneeling next to Luke, face pinched in concentration.
"I've erected my own barriers around your mind until I teach you how to build your own."
Luke nods numbly and shudders to think of just what he'd done. The Count is rubbing his forehead gingerly and Luke suspects it's partially his fault. He's helped up to a sitting position and the Count distantly suggests they both retire for the night. Another nod and they are both standing again. Luke wraps his arms around himself and follows the Count back into the estate. He is shepherded by someone into his quarters where he collapses on the bunk. He doesn't sleep though. He can't.
The Count doesn't resurface from wherever he's retreated the next morning. There are however several boxes of parts and broken B1s left with the bare instructions of "begin work" and "modify as you will". Luke would take it. He needed something to do with his hands and this was by far the best option.
Count Dooku was concerned—Not mildly, nor a huge amount—just concerned. The Skywalker boy was an enigma of epic proportions.
When Dooku had felt the force bend and snap in a completely unexpected way to reveal a shining star on his planet, Dooku had been furious. Anakin Skywalker, bane of his existence and infatuation of his master, was even more foolish than Dooku supposed if he'd decided challenging Dooku in his own home was going to work.
He'd set up the perfect trap, ensuring that the young Jedi Skywalker would have more than a little trouble getting out if he decided to challenge Dooku directly. It was a huge surprise indeed when instead of the tall strapping Jedi the Skywalker boy was turning into, there was a short, extremely befouled child covered in dirt and grime. The proclamation that this indeed was not Skywalker was out of his mouth before he could fully process everything.
The sass from the child was even more unexpected. Dooku stretched out his senses and explored the child's presence in the force. As he said, he was a Skywalker. It did not change the fact that the boy had nothing Dooku could value. He directed his guards to take the brat away.
He'd pondered long and hard over the nature of this force phenomenon when he was alerted that there was a breach in the detention level of his fine estate. Dooku did not waste time, but waited patiently for the absolute twerp to finish wrecking his way through the Count's security forces.
The boy was insufferable, yet an enigma with so much potential.
The boy made to leave, but the Sith in Dooku had just come full circle. It would be extremely ironic for Dooku to finally defeat his master with another Skywalker. And this one seemed more inclined to listen than the brash Jedi Knight that his master was infatuated with. Dooku ignited his red blade and held it in a formal salute just in front of where the boy intended to walk.
Dooku took slight pleasure in seeing the boy stumble back, but that was quickly quashed when the brat intoned that Dooku was hardly a threat. It took all the self control Dooku had to not snap right then and there.
He calmly explained a deal to the boy—Not that he had a choice. The boy had an apparent talent with the droids and Dooku could work with that as a starting point. Yes, Dooku could work with that. The final pieces in a decade-long plan finally fell into place as Dooku's newest pawn took up residence in the Count of Serenno's estate.
He'd invited the boy to dine with him. He really shouldn't have been surprised when the boy could hardly stomach the meal. Yes, there were exotic dishes, but there wasn't anything outlandish.
He'd followed dinner up with a display of his own immense power and skill with the force. Dooku had been intending for it to draw the boy in, to give him a desire to learn, and to bring out the curiosity in such a young soul. He had never intended for the boy to catch on quicker than he should and accidentally open himself to the force and to all of the minds on Serenno.
The shriek hit against his shields and undoubtedly rang in the minds of all intelligent creatures in the system. The boy was curled in a ball, despair and fear reeked off of him in the force. If Dooku didn't find a way to calm the boy down his distress was sure to gain unwanted attraction. Namely that of his masters. Comforting children was not something that came easily to Dooku but it seemed to work. They parted ways awkwardly and Dooku was left to his own thoughts. He had much to plan. The boy had so much raw, unrefined power. Darth Sidious obviously did not care for the vision the Separatists fought for, and this boy was powerful enough that the two of them could contend with the Sith Lord. He would need training, that was for sure. But Dooku could provide this. Luke Skywalker would be the ultimate revenge. Dooku couldn't help but chuckle at the irony. His comm unit embedded in his desk started beeping with an incoming message from his current apprentice.
"Ventress. Report."
"They have the huttlet, master."
Ah yes, his master's silly plan. The one that awarded no benefit for his loyal servants. It was time to play his part. He'd leave the younger Skywalker here and put him to work as he'd originally intended. He'd have Ventress report back to the estate for more training after their current mission.
"Very good, apprentice. Continue as planned and when you have finished your mission return to me. We have much to discuss."
"Yes, my master."
The transmission blinked out existence, leaving Dooku illuminated only by the window behind him. Things were finally coming together.
That's a wrap. Feel free to leave a review with your thoughts. I'll answer any questions when the next chapter is published.
Here is a link to my tumblr if you want to ask stuff there or see what else I get up to. I'll be free to answer questions directly there: not-a-font. tumblr. com
And here is a link to the ao3 accounts of the other authors: archiveofourown users/Lord_of_Void/pseuds/Lord_of_Void
archiveofourown users/Shadowlight17/pseuds/Shadowlight17