Note: Last one for a while, promise. Be forewarned of satire whenever politics are concerned.
3. Out of the Frying Pan…
"Embarrassing to be outwitted by bugs," remarked Sage, eyes fixed on the nexu. Someone was approaching from the hangar gate, a cloaked shape Sarin saw out of the corner of her eye, but the nexu was closer. She decided to practice her agility. The Nexu lunged.
Sarin had never moved so quickly before. The monster was fast. Even drawing on the Force, she barely dodged the enormous claws, which slit apart the ground she'd been standing on. The double tail whipped around behind the nexu, whistling, and clipped Sarin. The force pike snapped in two and Sarin was flung back, barely landing on her feet. She hated acrobatics. Sage wolf-whistled.
"Wear it down," he called. The monster turned on him instead, stalking forward. The ferocious spikes on its back quivered before it jumped. Sage launched himself under the beast in a coordinated dive, driving his lightsaber upward. The nexu cleared him and the saber, which only slashed its hind leg. It snarled as it landed, pivoting on its front legs, and jumped at an unprepared Sage.
It never reached him, but diverted course mid-flight, roaring viciously. The broken end of a force pike protruded from one of its eyes. It rounded on Sarin. Sage crippled its other back leg as the other end of the force pike pierced the beast's tongue. It let out another desperate cry, mouth spurting blood. It swiped once more in Sarin's direction, limping, three eyes murderous. Sarin reached into her boot for her last trick, and ignited the slim saberstaff. The shoto, her short offhand lightsaber, flared icy blue, before she ran it into the nexu's gullet. With a last snarl the nexu kicked out and collapsed, tail whipping Sage behind the knees. He fell with a grunt. Sarin flicked off her saber and extended Sage a hand.
"As Obi says, next time I'm crashing a civilized planet," said Sarin, helping Sage up. "Let's get off this rock."
But Sage didn't respond. He was gazing over her shoulder, face set darkly.
"An impressive performance!" said the figure, black cloak flowing dramatically as he strode from the hangar, the dome echoing eerily in his mocking applause. "Though I confess I was not expecting a welcome from two Jedi spies." He paused, meters away from the two. Sage was glaring warily, his saber off but trained on the newcomer, whose eyes were glittering with some unfathomable amusement. Next to the two weary and filthy Jedi, his immaculate attire offset his superior air.
"Count Dooku, I presume?"
Dooku turned his studied gaze to Sarin, smiled courteously. There was still a hint of mocking condescension in his eyes.
In retrospect, Sarin's actions could be considered suicidal. The situation didn't merit overanalyzing; at the moment, her desperation lent her nerve. "We've just ended our business here, so perhaps you want to lend us a ship. We were just leaving." Sage nearly blanched at the audacity.
Dooku's expression had changed rapidly from light bewilderment to deep amusement. "I want..?" he chuckled darkly. "I hope I have not offended you, Jedi. It is unfortunate we could not meet under better circumstances, but perhaps I could dissuade you from leaving so soon? There is no need for hostilities."
Sarin's Force-infused suggestion had been rebuffed, and Dooku's natural charisma lent his own Force-powered persuasion a subtlety Sarin did not possess.
"I disagree," said Sage, green lightsaber buzzing to life. Sarin scanned the dome for any other escape route when it occurred to her.
"Put that away, Sage, we're all politicians here. Surely we can negotiate like civilized people?" Sage looked at Sarin in alarm. After a tense silence, frowning, he deactivated his saber. Dooku looked on the exchange with mild interest. "So, Count, the Jedi seem to have conflicting views of you." Sarin strode forward, circling Dooku at a distance. "My Master is of the opinion that you're an independent and misguided idealist, but the rest of the Council maintains that you've fallen. I prefer to reserve judgments until I've heard your own arguments. You have a willing audience." Dooku had turned toward Sarin, leaving Sage standing before the hangar with nothing in his way.
"I am pleased to see the Council's complacency does not extend to all of its members," said Dooku. Sarin's expression told him all he needed. "Ah, but you are not on the Council," he smiled indulgently, "That would explain your capacity for objective thought. You see, until you blind yourself completely to the ethics you yourself preach, you will not ascend in the Council. The bureaucratic mire that the Republic has become has so deeply entrenched the Council that the Jedi now see themselves above morals, above the suffering of the commoners. All that the Republic has stood for, it has destroyed. The conservative council refuses to see that their stubbornness has eroded their very ideals; they have wrought corruption into the very heart of the Senate. How long has your democracy been compromised by you Senate's emergency decrees? How long your rights and freedoms sacrificed? How much longer until your precious Republic becomes a dictatorship?"
Despite herself, Sarin found the idealist's argument compelling. Something in the righteousness of Dooku's words seemed to appeal to her frustration with the Council. Sage wore the same frown, though it had soured and turned more skeptical as the rant progressed. But despite her doubts, Sarin had been busy during Dooku's speech; the pegs holding the locks on the cages of several beasts were now sufficiently loose. Aroused by the bloody nexu's scent, the wearks and acklays were becoming restless.
"You expect too much of the government, I think," said Sarin, desperate to prolong the distraction, and intrigued despite herself. "While your talk of free trade may lure the unions to join your cause, the established leaders will not abandon their cozy positions in the Republic. Even if you start a war, your droid army is no match for the Jedi. Are your ideals worth a war on a galactic scale? Moreover, will a capitalistic revolution not further impede on public freedom?"
Count Dooku smiled. Sarin ignored Sage's confused glare. "Your questions betray your own doubts, Jedi. Speak plainly; are you not disenchanted with the Republic yourself? The time for reform is over, no? The Confederacy is a new beginning, an era of-"
But what, exactly, the era was, Sarin didn't find out. At that moment, with a ferocious screech, an acklay broke through the weakened cage and scuttled in a fury of claws toward the dead nexu. Sarin had positioned herself away from the loose cages, and Dooku stood just between the bloodthirsty acklay and its immobile prey.
Perhaps it was the shock of transitioning from political rhetoric to fight or flight. But Dooku whipped out his lightsaber a moment too late – the acklay toppled straight over him, slicing a nasty welt in his arm with its clawed limbs, then tearing into the nexu.
"Sage, run!" Dooku had been bowled to the ground, and Sarin could feel the brimming hunger of the rest of the beasts. "I'm behind you, now!"
Three more cages clanged open, and several exotic beasts joined the fray, among them another acklay and two nexu who seemed to prefer humans to their own species. Sage was almost at the hangar, heels flashing.
Dooku's saber sang, injuring a nexu and enraging the rest of the menagerie. They lunged at him and Sarin, who was standing closest. She took the cue and sprang back, racing to the hangar. Escape was just through those gates, where she could see a ship docked. Sage was through… just as Sarin began to think she was safe, the heavy metal gates began to close. She put on a burst of speed, preparing to lunge – but then her world tipped sideways. Out of nowhere, a pincer-like claw knocked her clean off her feet, and she flew backwards, rolling to a dusty, bruising stop at a pair of polished boots. Dooku was smiling above her dazed head, uninjured arm raised up and sealing the hangar with the Force. She caught a glimpse of Sage, lightsaber drawn, stumbling back toward her.
"Go!" just as the gates clanged shut, too thick for the saber to penetrate.
Dooku's gloating slipped off his face. Two acklays had swiped at him as he concentrated on the doors, and he chopped off two claws. He didn't see the nexu coming, but Sarin did. It lunged over her head for the Count, claws bared, snarling viciously and baring a multitude of fangs. Instinctually, she whipped her short saber into the nexu's belly as it cleared her, impaling it mid-flight. She didn't account for its corpse falling straight on her, spikes and all. The bulk stunned her before she rolled out from under it, rather worse for wear, smattered in nexu blood. An enticing target for the acklays.
They both sprang at her. Sarin evaded the first, ran into the second, fell over in the slick of blood and dust and thus evaded the first again. Finding her hard prey, they went for Dooku instead. She groaned and rose, sliding, fell again, watching from the ground Dooku's fantastic fencing which was of absolutely no use to him against two enraged acklays. He ducked their blows gracefully until one claw yanked his flowing cloak, throwing him to the ground. The acklays then both attempted to devour the velvet; one snapped his cloak, got tangled, and ripped through snarling. The other rounded on him again as he rose, and he fluidly chopped off its head. The other acklay also dropped. Sarin wondered if the stupid beast had suffocated itself with the cloak.
Dooku approached Sarin again, but this time he eyed her suspiciously. "Is it not considered dirty tactics for a Jedi to sacrifice an innocent animal to save herself?" he asked, "The Geonosians may have to take you into custody – the Confederacy does not condone such violence."
Politics again, was it? Sarin glared from where she was sitting on the mud. "Your little bugs starve these bloodthirsty beasts for entertainment. They adore violence. And once Sage tells Master Windu of your operations here, you can expect the Jedi to investigate. Your veiled threats won't-"
"You think the runaway Jedi you rescued will scurry back to your Council? You believe he has no ulterior motives of his own? The Jedi have their own agenda, which the Senate refuses to see. There is the narrow-minded reasoning of the Republic," Dooku got started, striding closer past the cloak-choked acklay. "They know nothing of these border worlds which they all but enslave…" He was on it again.
"What does that…" but Sarin trailed off, Dooku's voice drowning her out. She stared. The acklay that had collapsed was rising. It had merely played dead until Dooku had walked within striking range, and was preparing to close its sharp claws around his throat from behind.
"Republic…. Confederacy… foolish Jedi Council… freedoms…"
Perhaps her altruism chose that inconvenient moment to manifest itself. Perhaps the idealist had grown on her through his rants. Perhaps her Jedi notion of redemption somehow influenced her actions. But that moment, she knew she couldn't let this fiery orator, whether self-proclaimed savior or villain, be crushed from behind by an acklay. It would be worse than being killed by some arrogant Padawan on the orders of his own master. Just slightly worse.
So Sarin swiped her leg under and tripped the Count mid-speech. Surprise was such a convenient element. Dooku sprawled on top of Sarin and rolled off, which likely saved his life, his clothes, and cushioned his fall. Sarin groaned in protest to the elbow she received to her face, suddenly feeling very dizzy, and the acklay snapped its claws on air.
"I suggest you desist in assaulting me, m'lady," Dooku rose just enough to threaten Sarin, igniting his saber to hover at her throat, a curious contrast to his silky suggestion. That and he was significantly heavier than Sarin, which left her at somewhat a disadvantage pinned to the floor. Any trace of humor or amusement was gone from his eyes. Sarin swallowed, eyes wide, grey reflecting the red saber ghosting her neck.
Pushing down her terror, she choked out, "Behind you!" which may have sounded squeaky and unrecognizable, but Dooku got the message. Or perhaps he gained full awareness and sensed the impending blow with the Force. At the last moment, he rose and redirected his saber, cleanly cleaving the acklay in two. He switched off his red blade.
The look of surprise plastered on the Count's face would have been amusing under other circumstances. Clearly, he hadn't anticipated needing rescue, nor receiving it from Sarin. She didn't muse on the irony, because once again she found herself drifting into a heavy blackness, only this time she was already on the ground. Were the nexu spike-slashes poisonous? Perhaps she'd had too many elbows to the face. Maybe she was allergic to Geonosian dust. Or lightsaber radiation. It occurred to her as she lost consciousness that this planet was doing nothing for her health.