22 BBY

Obi Wan Kenobi:

In a sector of space now torn apart by this war, aboard the main deck of the Republic Vigilance, the vessel on which had recently been made the head of the fleet, Jedi Master Obi Wan Kenobi had become extremely... uneasy. It was not any specific progress on the war, or a fear of losing momentum, in fact the Republic had made rapid gains these last few weeks. Gains which he saw plainly before his own eye, in the vast wreckage of Separatist war ships now adrift in space. He and Anakin Skywalker - his apprentice and close friend - were both following in the lead of Master Windu's offensive, which had devastated three out of five Separatist fleets, and had routed Admiral Kirst, who had been forced to flee back behind the Ryloth line and gather together what remained of his decimated Armanda. The initial CIS attack was meant to be the beginning of a major offensive into seizing the vast resource rich moons and worlds just outside of the Corellian system. He and his Padawan were now tasked with hunting down remnants from the failed invasion force which were scattered all across the sector – Obi wan, leading his Third Systems army unit alongside Anakin.

His focus briefly turned towards the hive of activity that was the deck of the Vigilance: Clones and non-clone officers, in their grey or dark uniforms were either typing at their stations, relaying military information, or maintaining and monitoring the countless systems that ensured the ship was operating at peak capacity. Low chatter all about; orderly, short and to the point. Traits that worked well in endearing these relatively new Clone troopers, originating from the Bounty Hunter, Jango Fett, to their natural-born superiors. It all seemed insane to him even now: even more in how he looked back at how master Qi Gon Jinn would have reacted if he were here. Obi Wan, briefly closed his eyes, and signed at the thought.

Clones, war, pointless destruction... would Master Qi Gon have ever approved? Would he have betrayed the Republic and joined Dooku?

Almost as if on instinct, the answer was, "Of course not. Master Qui Gon would...

He stopped himself right there and then. His master was a maverick and iconoclast. No Jedi could deny it. It was what had cost him a seat on the council, it had cost him the chance to gain influence and change the order from within. He took a breath and put a hand through his hair:

It had cost him his life.

In the end, Obi Wan in good conscious found himself unwilling and unable to make a firm choice on what his Master would do in the present situation.

He'd do what was right

Obi Wan could at the very least be positive on that. On that note, he decided to let the subject rest be for now. He spotted Clone Commander "Cody" approaching. As usual, he was clad in his standard armour, helmet firmly held under his arm. While it had taken some getting used to, Obi Wan was now able to look at the face of the Clone (though any Clone really) without being reminded of their bounty hunter progenitor. Whilst it had been an adjustment, Obi Wan had now fully embraced the fact that these were individual men with their own characters and personalities, and not simple copies of the infamous Mandalorian hunter who had come close to killing him on two separate occasions. Like millions of his brethren, it was only a variation of a haircut, or tattoo that made it possible to see past their identical faces, for Cody, his standard short back and sides was his characteristic mug, and most distinguishable of all – the scar on the right side of his face.

"General Kenobi" Cody saluted, disciplined and professional as always.

Obi Wan gave a small smile and nodded lightly in mutual respect and acknowledgement.

"Commander Cody. How are the men?"

"Lean and hungry for the next battle, sir"

"How goes the evacuation recovery for the wounded?"

"All good sir, medical transports will be ready to leave for Duro within the day. Then we can work harder in finishing off the Sep fleet"

Genetically altered beings meant to cherish battle. The Fett Clones were unlike any army the galaxy had ever seen. The bizarre and outlandish events that had led Obi Wan from a simple investigation, to being a frontline leader of these men, bred from the very man he had been hunting, in the worst conflict the Galaxy had seen since the final days of Ruusan. Sometimes, Obi Wan could not fully comprehend it himself. The Clone before him had been assigned as his Clone commander two weeks after the battle of Genonosis. Things were awkward at first. But it was not long before Obi Wan's characteristic manners, politeness and consideration had begun to break down the Kaminoan-influence of suppressing one's individualism. While it may not have been total freedom, he felt it a prudent first step; morally and militarily, as a Jedi and Commander. As a Jedi, he was obligated to think of others before himself, helping them in whatever way he could. As a Commander, these men would operate better as Soldiers if they learned to be free-thinking men. The ARC troopers were such a group that he felt were the best basis for a Clone soldier, though unfortunately, the Kaminoans had seen that it was only ARC troopers, and to a limited degree – Clone Commandos, who were commissioned to be given any level of independence, and simply on the basis of this fact, from what he had understood, the Kaminoans did not trust the ARCs.

Obi turned again to Cody:

"So, we are good for supplies and any other requirements before we move out further I take it?"

"Yes sir, absolutely"

"Very good, Cody, dismissed"

Cody saluted again, perfectly as ever.

"Yes sir."

The Commander turned his back and moved on passed the on-board officers and walked through past the automatic doors.

Whilst the current war with the CIS – or Clone Wars as Master Yoda had dubbed the conflict, which in turn had become the official title of the war for both sides, was clearly dangerous and spreading across the Galaxy, Obi Wan was increasingly concerned with the ever growing news of Mandalorian militarization: there had been reports of a newly crowned Mand'alor, who had unified the Clans, and was now targeting both Republic and Separatists outside of their territorial space.

So far, the attacks had not moved beyond simple raids against both sides equally, but Obi Wan knew deep down that this would not remain the case for long. Even worse, a scenario of a potential Separatist and Mandalorian alliance could tip the balance of this war far in the favour of Count Dooku and the Sith.

Obi Wan sighed deeply, folding one arm and stroking his beard with the other hand. Only the Force knew what lay ahead.

22 BBY

Dooku:

From his private cruiser, he looked out; across the gulf of space, staring at the stars, absorbing the Galaxy, it's energy and very being – defined and subservient to the Force as all things were - Dooku: Aristocratic Count of Serenno and head of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. He was also, unknown to the wider Galaxy and populace, save for only a few select individuals, known as a Dark Lord of the Sith, Darth Tyranus, the apprentice to the Dark Lord: Darth Sidious.

"It will be my legacy, my place to restore order and true justice, as it should be... along with my Master."

He sipped his cup of Naboo imported Blossom wine; bitter, but fruity, and intensely refreshing. Something he needed with the growing stress and drained energy of carrying out the will of his master and running the shambolic mess that was the Separatist Council, it would only be increasing. The ship he was on did not offer the comfort of a modest level of space, it was compact and tight for a human, especially one as tall as him. Not surprising as it was designed by and for Geonosisians; it was a Punworcca 116-class sloop, mixing the best of Geonosisian technology and elements of stealth from the soon to be extinct Gree species. While it offered limited luxury or relaxation, it served it's purpose in allowing the Count to travel and operate unimpeded throughout most of the known Galaxy, in his state travels to oversee aspects of his newly formed state, as well as his Master's whim when ordered, Which would occasionally require him to go into Republic-controlled space.

"I have good news for you my Lord: the war has begun" It had only now occurred to him the true impact of those words all those months ago. It was not hard to envy his Master, who under the guise of the Chancellor – a fact that only Dooku himself was privy to, along with just a handful of others – would only need to act in his role, slowly transforming the Republic from within, inch by inch, tedious emergency war powers bill to the next, attending banquets and state visits that would not be even a quarter as dangerous as it was to be the head of the CIS. The war left Dooku very little time to himself. He now often found himself only able to sleep for a bare minimum of three to four hours.

It had been not 24 hours ago that he had met with his Master Sidious on Corusaunt in order to update him on the present situation, as well as their plans moving forward. It was a part of that very plan on which the Count was presently on his way to deal with.

The muscles in his body ached tremendously. Dooku had always been a realist who preferred facts to wishful feelings; he knew he was not the fighter he once was. Now at the age of eighty, just shy of eighty-one, his best years had long since passed, even with the slowing effect of the Force that helped keep his energy, and press his body far beyond its natural human limits. Regardless of this fact, even now, he could easily slaughter half of the young fools who preposterously thought of themselves as Jedi with no effort. It was when the Galaxy would be truly theirs that he and his master could focus on one of their ultimate objectives – the achievement of immortality. With this, they could run their future Empire for as long as it would be necessary until eventually, a suitable heir could be groomed and appointed to take their place.

"The war has begun"

He sighed at the memory of reporting the beginning of the long-planned conflict that would ensure he and his Master's path to absolute power. While he took no glee in the inevitable, but necessary pain and suffering of billions of galactic beings. It was required for a new bright future "What are the lives of a few billions at most, compared to trillions for generations to come?"

Their pain will be the foundation on which a new order of true justice and order will be created - no more will the corrupt bureaucrats enrich themselves and their Core world sectors at the expense of the rest. Each being would be judged regardless of their status or species. It would be him and his master who would ensure that unlike previous Sith-ruled Empires - from the ancient King Adas to Lord Kahn's pitiful, so-called Brotherhood of Darkness – that they would rule as two equals, with the true power and teachings, kept to themselves from their future Sith Army, in that way, only master Sidious and Dooku would stand as true Dark Lords, with no equals or potential challenger to their reign. Once immortality was achieved, both he and his master would become Gods - what Darth Revan and Malak should have been.

Generations of previous Sith from Darth Bane's Rule of Two; the line which he and his master had descended from would likely consider this future model heresy, to the foundation of the Order, but Bane and his teachings had served their purpose long ago, and now the Sith stood on the precipice of enacting the nearly one thousand year grand-plan.

The mission he was on at this moment was vital for his and his master's scheming.

Looking around at the deck room of the ship for a moment, he knew it was time to make contact with and update his bodyguards who would meet him at their planned location. Getting up from his seat, he walked to the control room of the ship. It was a tight space craft, with corridors that required him to duck his head as to not hurt himself – Dooku was tall even by human standards.

Coming into the main room, he spotted the pilot droid operating at its usually efficient capacity, paying the Count no attention focused on it's given task.

Dooku typed in the coordinate codes for both his Acolyte's ships. As well as the stealth, the ship also allowed him to broadcast precise and high-quality messages from almost anywhere in the Galaxy. It took only moments for both his followers to appear on the Holo.

Kadrian Sey appeared with her default frown. The female Zabrak wore her hair – which was receded - back to into four braids. Her suit was a dark brownish red, wrists and shoulders covered in separate pieces of armour, not enough to deflect a straight strike from a Lightsaber, but if they could be held against most stray attacks and blaster bolts. Her skin was a golden caramel colour, black lipstick, and adorned her people's tribal earrings. She had been the first Jedi to have defected to his side. Unlike the rest of her kind who had put in an appearance during the first battle of Geonosis. Sey at the time was unable to give aid, as she was deep undercover in a spying mission on organized Separatist activity in the Outer Rim. So much time away from the Jedi Temple, along with seeing how truly just the cause of the Confederacy was, had convinced her to forgo her previous ties to the Jedi Order and Galactic Republic. She had secretly turned herself in, not a month before Geonosis. Dooku had wanted to gain as much valuable intelligence from her as possible, to that end, she had acted as a double-agent on his behalf until recently being exposed, forcing her to flee, where she now served as one of his most trusted bodyguards and occasional field commanders.

Along with her was his other devoted follower (sometimes too devoted) the Ex Jedi Knight: Tol Skorr

The Jabiimi Human native was enclosed in black battle armour, a strongly built man, his golden blonde hair was thick and long. The hair that went past both his shoulders to his chest was tied into two white bands, his beard was closely cropped. Unlike Sey, Skorr had been recruited as a result of Dooku's personal intervention, having rescued the once Jedi Knight after having been shot down over Korriban by a group of pirates who had been harassing a number of frontier worlds. On the ancient world of the Sith, it was Dooku who had saved Skorr just in time, who was near the verge of death from an attack from a Tuk'ata, an ancient Sith guard dog which had left a vicious scar on the left side of Skorr's face. The wound only enhancing his already grim appearance.

"Count Dooku, we are yours to command" Skorr gave a gracious and respectful bow, though his blue eyes did not once leave the digitalized visage of the Count, deep blue pools brightening at the hologram. Dooku had seen that look expressed towards him before "The same look Komari Vosa would give me on numerous occasions, before her banishment from the Order... lust" The Count sighed at the knowledge, knowing full well that this could prove both an asset and a liability. Regardless, Skorr would be valuable in the war to come - an above-average Lightsaber duelist and ruthless in his newfound personal dedication to Dooku.

"When we reach the Mandalorian system, you will both rendezvous with me outside of the main camp on Concord Dawn; remember that we are here to recruit allies, not produce new foes... discipline yourselves, and focus on the task at hand. Act only upon my direct orders and nothing less. Am I clear? as my Acolytes, I expect nothing less from you both."

The two Fallen Jedi bowed, with a mutter of "Yes, my Lord" simultaneously. The visual representations flickered and flashed before going off. Dooku stood for some time, digesting the actions that were to come – gaining the allegiance of the Mandalorians would not be an easy task by any means, in truth it was one that Dooku was certain would be one of his most challenging he would ever face, but if he could, he would gain the allegiance of the finest warriors in the Galaxy, unparalleled in their capacity for war and conquest.

Dooku rubbed eyes deeply, his last encounter with the people of Mandalore was bloody and infamous. It was one of the defining incidents that had finally caused him to break free of his foolish faith in the Jedi Order; Jedi Knights – he amongst them - sent on a false mission to Galidraan based on the word of a sycophantic dictator and his Barbarian overlords called Death Watch – an act that led to countless deaths of both the falsely accused True Mandalorians and his own Jedi brothers and sisters. A crime that the Council had never regretted or apologised for.

It was ironic and poetic then, that the very people - most notably, one Jango Fett – would now be the key to the fall of the Order.

The plan to gain Mandalorian allies had come only a month after the Clone Wars had begun; the people themselves had overthrown their Republic-backed Dutchess Satine decades ago.

Count Dooku knew aiding the so-called "New Mandalorian" movement after the Civil War to establish their regime was futile. "Mandalorian" was not a place or people who could adopt and swap one ideology for another," Mandalorian" was an ideal, a creed on which no government or ideology had managed to come close to changing. These people of no one species or bloodline were a swamp; nothing could grow when planted, only absorbed, stripped for any useful utilities beneficial for the Mando'ade and cast aside.

To this day it puzzled the Count as to how the young woman, Satine, basking in her pretentious, made-up title of Dutchess as if she was true aristocracy, thought that such a people as that would accept any change – pacifism and Republic integration – two things which stood in total opposition to who they were.

The Pilot droid suddenly spoke in its metallic and flat tone," Count Dooku, we are approaching the planet, and will soon be at Concord Dawn within a matter of minutes."

The Count looked out at the increasingly visible planet below, green and serene. A natural, beautiful world that was the bread basket for most of Mandalorian space with its rich and bountiful grain reserves.

His intelligence network had led him to learn that Manda'lor was on the planet to rally his people for the approaching war - a war that depending on Dooku's success, would either lead the Clans to fight either the Republic alongside the Separatist alliance, or both sides.

Regardless, he knew what he must do. For his Master. For the good of the Galaxy.

But most importantly, to himself. Of course.

Author's Note

New fanfic here. The concept and idea are both inspired by "Lore Guy" from YouTube. As you can tell, this story is basically going to take elements from both Legends and Canon material (but mostly Legends) as we go along.

I originally posted this on the Clone Wars tag, but felt that this particular story fits better on this one.