Where Dooku Is Interviewed
By Dooku's estimation, he wouldn't be bothered by the Jedi for three days. No one, no one, had expected him to surrender himself to the Jedi, deciding what to do would be cause for great debate. The thought of causing such a great stir in the Council made the former Jedi smile. He found himself wondering if Qui-Gon would be proud. The thought brought the painful sting of regret.
Dooku was a man who was slow to realize his mistakes, a trait he'd passed on to Qui-Gon by all accounts. The difference between them however, was that Qui-Gon, upon realizing his error, went out of his way to correct the problem. Dooku's actions were often more ambiguous and depended upon the mistake. An error on a mission - a life or death decision - had to, of course, be immediately rectified. A lesser offense, perhaps a personal dispute between friends, did not always merit correction, or even apology. Far better to assess if the correction was in one's best interests or not. One must never willingly put one's self at risk; it simply wasn't proper.
In not putting himself at risk, Dooku learned - much, much later - that he had missed out on experiencing Qui-Gon Jinn to the fullest in his apprenticeship. At the time it was a perfectly reasonable decision, the boy was a walking headache. Dooku had lost track of the number of times he'd felt frustration, irritation, and yes, anger, at his Padawan as he jumped at every conceivable opportunity to run off on some side-quest during a mission, to help every vagabond he ever came across, to take in all manner of injured creatures to the apartments, to track dirt in from the most deplorable of places, and to talk back to him at every opportunity and question the decisions he made. A vein pulsed just thinking about it! Dooku had felt more than within his rights to keep a safe distance from the child.
It wasn't until years later, after Qui-Gon's knighting, that hindsight softened and blurred all that frustration, dulled its blade when he would return to his apartments and find only silence and immaculate order that he had left. Life had somehow become... dull... after Qui-Gon had become a Knight. He acknowledged the mistake, if only to himself, that he should have done more during the apprenticeship. But the offense was minor, he'd rationalized, and not worthy of deliberately seeking out Qui-Gon. Perhaps bring it up on a shared mission, or when they were both wrestling with the Council to open their eyes and start changing before they stagnated.
Dooku did admit more than a small amount of pride that Qui-Gon had picked up on his habit of questioning the Council's decisions and turning it into an art form.
But his second mistake was that he had never reconciled with Qui-Gon, never told the impetuous brat that his company was enjoyed. It was Qui-Gon's death that made him realize it, and of course by then it was too late to do anything about it; he knew nothing of Qui-Gon's apprentice Obi-Wan Kenobi, did not feel appropriate introducing himself and offering council. He had instead resolved to see justice over Qui-Gon's murder served.
It never was.
The Council accepted the travesty.
And so he left.
It was the straw that broke the nerf's back, the latest in a long list of offenses the Council had done that had proven with utter finality that the Jedi Order was beyond hope. Even now, back inside their walls he could not feel nostalgia for a location that had been his home for decades. All he could see was failure left and right, weak Knights, pervasive feelings of anxiety and fear, and no life. The Jedi Order had morphed from a brotherhood to an institution, and he could not stand for it.
And so his very presence shook things up. It filled him with perverse pleasure, and the feeling gave him strength.
Dooku had estimated the interview would be conducted only by Councilors; better not to risk the weaker to his temptations, no doubt. Four sounded about right, to "protect" themselves if he tried anything. Never mind the Force collar around his neck or his complete compliance. These things could not be trusted. He expected Yoda of course; the backbone of the Order was required for this kind of situation. Windu was another likely candidate. The other two he was less certain of, he did not know the younger Council members. Ki-Adi-Mundi would have been a good choice, or perhaps the blunt Agen Kolar. In a very private chamber of his mind, he hoped to see Kenobi, Qui-Gon's legacy. He wanted to see what parts of his Padawan had rubbed off on Kenobi aside from the skill in Ataru.
His time of solitude gave him much to meditate on.
As he predicted, three days had passed.
As he predicted, Yoda and Windu were there.
As he hoped, Kenobi arrived.
As he had never guessed, Skywalker marched in behind his old master. The boy was staring at him through dark eyes, he was upset about something - what Dooku didn't know but one didn't need the Force to see it. Even now the boy was completely out of control. Letting him participate in the interview was ludicrous, it would only hurt their position. What was the Council thinking?
"Am I so beneath your notice that you think an untested Knight worthy of sitting in on these interrogations?" Dooku asked, not without some scorn.
He watched Skywalker's aggressive frown deepen in rage - the boy seemed easy to bait, and Dooku would have been more than content in driving him from the room so he could get the real work started. Yoda and Windu put on good faces; he would enjoy forcing them to remove young Skywalker. Kenobi reached up and gripped the boy's arm, and the two held and extended staring contest; Dooku realized they were speaking through their bond, and he remembered the startling closeness he'd sensed on the Invisible Hand. The others were watching, too, and Dooku was suddenly left infinitely curious on what those impassive faces were thinking as they watched a bond they surely must have disapproved of.
Skywalker suddenly sneered at Dooku as he made a show of taking a seat, Kenobi and the others following.
"You needn't worry Count," he said in bland tones. "Chancellor Palpatine just wanted to make certain you didn't try anything. Who better to look after you than the one that beat you?"
A poor attempt at dun moch, and a giveaway besides. Dooku knew, of course, that Sidious had done much to insert himself into the Jedi Order; this was a statement of how far he had come. It gave Dooku an idea of where the Sith Lord was in his plans and what his goals were.
"Questions we have," Yoda said slowly, garnering everyone's attention. "Answer them, we would like."
"We all have questions," Dooku replied with genial civility. "I would like to know if you can truly see what is happening to you. I would like to know why the Jedi have been allowed to fall so far, or what prompted you to ever think knighting Skywalker was a good idea. I would like to know why you let Qui-Gon's murderers free. But we all-"
"You have no right to talk about Qui-Gon," Skywalker hissed, fury covering his face.
"Anakin, it's fine," Kenobi said softly, his gaze on Dooku unwavering but oddly intense.
Now that was interesting: Skywalker getting angry on behalf of Kenobi? The pair were talking through the bond again, and Dooku watched in fascination as Skywalker again backed down. No wonder Sidious wanted Kenobi killed, he was a walking restraint for his precious apprentice-to-be. Another opportunity to foil Sidious' plans, now the question was this: keep the boy clinging to the Light, or turn him to the Darkside and set him loose on Sidious? He would have to meditate on the merits of both options. It made him smile.
"Who is the Sith lord in control of the Senate?" Windu asked.
"I have no idea what you are talking about," Dooku replied calmly.
"Sense the lie I do," Yoda replied, his eyes closed and his head tilted back slightly, in commune with the Force. "Easier it would be, if told the truth you did."
"Really, Master," Dooku said, "Where would the sport in that be?"
And that was how it started. Windu and Yoda asked most of the questions; Kenobi and Skywalker appeared to be the observers. Both had their eyes closed in meditation, sensing the ebb and flow of the Force around Dooku's words, looking for truths or half-truths or partial truths. Dooku wasn't going to make this easy for them, and often he simply denied everything or changed the subject. Skywalker's frustration was more than apparent even with the Force collar inhibiting his connection to its mysteries. His frown was enormous; he must have been a marvelous pouter when he was a child. Kenobi, though, he was utterly level, like Yoda and Windu. Dooku wondered why Kenobi held such fascination with him, but he needed only a moment's self-reflection to understand that this boy was the only surviving connection to Qui-Gon that existed. Of course he'd be interested. He eyed Skywalker and his obvious connection to Kenobi, and decided to test the waters.
Utterly ignoring Yoda's question, he focused his gaze on Kenobi. "He's trying to kill you, you know," he said gently.
Kenobi's eyes snapped open, the only visual mark of his surprise. Skywalker was more theatrical, reeling back and gasping audibly.
"What?" Kenobi asked slowly, putting on an air of not understanding what Dooku had said.
"My master," Dooku said, throwing a smug grin to Windu and Yoda. It was a rebuttal of his denials, but he took great pleasure in the fact that he offered this information of his own volition instead of being forced by those two charlatans. "He has been known, on occasion, to try very, very hard to kill you."
"Over my dead body," Skywalker hissed, his face a palette of anger and protective fury.
"Patience," Kenobi whispered, not even turning to Skywalker, refusing to break eye contact with Dooku. To the Count he said, "Why?"
"That would ruin the surprise, don't you think?" Dooku responded, sneering. "I owe my master no loyalty after his betrayal, but that does not mean I am going to openly thwart a Sith Lord as many would expect. I do have principals, you know."
"If you have no loyalty," Windu said, "Then why do you protect him?"
Dooku turned to the Korun Master. "Because I was a Jedi first; and despite what you all have become," he rolled out with disgust, "I, at least, still subscribe to what a Jedi is supposed to be. Out of loyalty to that principal I hold my tongue. And out of that loyalty I give Kenobi the friendly reminder that he has a price on his head, a machination to have him removed from the game board so that other players will be accessible."
"It will never happen," Skywalker growled, his face as black as the leather he wore. "I won't let it."
Dooku just couldn't let that go, and so he put on a sneer. "'Let it'? My dear boy, how could you stop it? Tell me, on what planet of this galaxy do you actually believe that you can stop Kenobi from dying?"
He knew he had hit a nerve because Kenobi - fiercely reticent till now - actually turned away from Dooku, breaking eye contact to face Skywalker, hissing "Anakin," before the two fell silent, glaring at each other.
The remaining three, Dooku, Yoda and Windu, were left to watch two Jedi fight bitterly along a bond that should have faded but instead was now stronger than anything anyone had ever seen. Dooku enjoyed the silent show; Skywalker was easy to manipulate and the more Kenobi calmed the errant child, the more Dooku learned about their relationship, their strengths, and their weaknesses. Information in this war was vital; Dooku had learned this the hard way as he glanced at his missing hands. He could still feel his fingers, kept trying to make them move and was surprised they simply weren't there. After three days of constant medical check-ups, probes, questions, samples, and trays filled with bacta to staunch infection and quicken the healing process, Dooku no longer felt constant pain. This was not to say he didn't feel it, however, because Yoda finally broke the silence:
"With your threats, are you happy?" he asked.
Dooku looked to the green frog-troll. His former master, the pillar of the Jedi order, and he felt a flare of bitter anger. Unlike Skywalker, still arguing mentally with Kenobi, Dooku could control his anger. He could compartmentalize it, break it down and identify its source, and then find a solution to remove the emotion. He did not have the liberty here, Yoda's ignorance or arrogance were not going to fade overnight. Ah, but then, perhaps if his cage were rattled...
Dooku leaned forward, putting his amputated limbs on the table and leaning on them. It hurt viciously, but it gave him, too, focus.
"Happy?" he asked with genial tones to coat the visible layer of ice in his voice. "No, I most certainly am not happy. I haven't been happy for years. Decades. I have been betrayed by my masters," he made a point of emphasizing the plural, "and tossed aside for better pickings or better adherence to a shamble of a Code. I rather think the question of my happiness is moot."
He let go of the ice then, in favor of a smooth, menacing silk. "I propose, Master Yoda, that the better question is if you are happy." He smiled, and it was malicious. "Are you happy to see two Jedi, one of them a Master and Councilor, have an argument with a Knight? Better still, are you happy that it is occurring right under your nose, along a bond that I certainly expect no one to approve of?" Skywalker glanced at Dooku, but the older man ignored it in favor of playing with Yoda.
"Tell me," he said, leaning back and caressing a leg. "Is your disapproval because of the blatant sign of attachment that the two share? For Skywalker it is to be expected - he is only a youngling after all - but it makes Kenobi downright awe-inspiring because he has this attachment and can still remain such an ideal Jedi. Does it bother you to see a breach of your precious Code and yet still have a functional soldier at your disposal?
"Or perhaps you disapprove simply because you cannot control it? You have been on the Council for centuries, Master Yoda; you must certainly have grown accustomed to people listening to your advise and doing as you say. You've steered the very future of the Order and now that it is about to be destroyed I can only imagine that you are desperate for command of what little else is in your grasp. After all, control over every Jedi in this artifice is no longer enough, now you have command of that clone army you're so proud of. Will the Republic itself be next? Will that satisfy you?"
Skywalker snapped his gaze to Dooku again - was he fighting and listening at the same time? Interesting... - and frowned deeply at Dooku's accusations. Sidious must have already planted the suggestion then.
That was all the information he needed, for now, and he stood. "Gentlemen," he said with polite decorum, "This interview is over."
Skywalker jerked to his feet, ready to protest, but Yoda stood as well. "Agreed," he said, supporting himself on his gimmer stick. "Much we have learned; much to meditate upon, you have given us." Kenobi and Windu stood.
Just for the reaction, Dooku gave a slight bow and said, "Gentlemen, I remain humbly at your service."
The glare that Skywalker gave and the hand that snapped out to grip his arm made it worth it.
Author's Notes: Dooku makes for an interesting head to visit sometimes. Since he's survived, and been horribly betrayed by Sidious (not that he probably wasn't planning his own betrayal some day), he's had confidences shattered from both sides. Dooku was Qui-Gon's Master and was a leading Jedi and one of their best fencers for decades. Yet whenever you talk of Sith, the first ideas that always come to mind are Vader and Sidious. Makes you feel bad for Dooku, since he's such a complex character. Even here, we don't spend as much time in this third arc with him as we'd like, but we just of other (more important) things to do.
Next week: Politics are a bitch sometimes. Poor Ahsoka...