A/N: Sorry this is took longer than intended, I've been away, and sick, and this chapter needed a little more editing than I realised. This is something I've been waiting to get to for a very long time. Hope you enjoy it!
Chapter Twenty-Two: Caught in the Crossfire
Coruscant was in chaos. The speeder cut efficiently through the disorganised traffic, and as they made a sweeping turn up to the speedway level used for long-distance traffic, Chloe caught a glimpse of a column of smoke rising from a building whose distinctive dome was silhouetted by the fading pink sunset. So the news report at Dex's had been correct. The Senate had been hit.
Chloe risked a glance at the man next to her, inscrutable behind his mirrored visor. His blaster was still digging painfully into her side. "You don't need to keep that thing pointed at me," she said. "It's not like I'm going anywhere."
His lips curled into a smile, and he put his hand on her leg. "Ask me nicely, and I might move it."
Oh, great.
She glared at him, noticing that her reflection looked far more annoyed than afraid. And, she realised, that was exactly how she felt. How dare they take her, like this? Who were they, anyway?
Calm down, Chloe. Now is not the time.
And since when did she think in Obi-Wan's voice?
Just go along with them. Avoid confrontation.
Okay, okay. I know.
She offered the man a tight-lipped smile. "Would you please move your blaster."
Tilting his head, he let his mouth hang open while trailing the blaster down her hip, then along the hem of her skirt. Feeling slightly sick, she stared straight ahead, at the bright blonde hair of the woman driving, hoping vaguely that if she ignored him he might lose interest. He chuckled, but didn't say anything else, and seconds later she felt the blaster leave her leg.
The sun had set by the time they left the speedway, descending between massive industrial buildings that stood like great ugly tree trunks in a black, bottomless sea. A tall, twin-towered building loomed ahead. Her captor tapped his comlink. "Base, this is Vagabond One. Let the boss know we've arrived."
The speeder dropped through the remaining levels, pausing before an arched gateway at the very base of the building. With a thud and a groan of un-lubricated metal, the door slid open, and through they went, into pitch darkness.
Chloe was manhandled out of the speeder and marched along-along… what? A corridor? A tunnel? She couldn't tell. The floor was rough beneath her feet. They started up a series of steps, far too quickly given they were walking blind, and inevitably Chloe stumbled. Someone—instinct told her it was still him, the man with the visor—cursed and hauled her to her feet, hand like a vice on her elbow pulling her up the rest of the steps even more quickly, even more roughly.
They were on level ground again, smoother underfoot than before, when the darkness faded to greenish-gray, and then a door opened up ahead. Chloe flinched, scrunching up her eyes against bright light.
At the other side, two black-clad, grim-faced guards were waiting. The taller of the two ran a hand –held weapon scanner over her while the other spoke quietly to the man with the visor, who clearly must have been the one accompanying her.
The scanner beeped softly. "Okay," the shorter guard said. "Take her through."
Beyond a second door the space opened out into a cavernous room, several stories tall. It was cold, and Chloe's breath misted the air. The man led her along the centre of the room, past a series of pillars that stretched from floor to ceiling, each one encased in a huge spiral coil of cabling. There were no windows on the walls, only massive control panels, their viewscreens and indicator lights dark and lifeless.
They stopped just before the central pillar, around which a living room-sized space had been walled off by a cube of transparent plexiglass. The nearest wall had a door, which the man opened, and led her inside, shoving her back against the pillar. He pulled out a couple of plastic tie-cords and lashed each of her wrists to the cabling. Avoiding eye contact, she looked at the floor. A peeling logo was printed onto the floor by her feet: a lightning bolt inside a circle. It was the signature of MegaCorps, Coruscant's largest power company.
Chloe started in surprise when the man pressed a clammy hand to her cheek, leaning close so she could smell his putrid breath. "Stay here." Laughing, he retreated to the outside of the cube, and disappeared into the shadows, leaving the door open.
Cloe bit her lip and leaned her head back against the pillar. So, the planet was under attack, and she was in a disused power station in the bowels of a district that was already the back of nowhere. It could be considered a good place to spend some time, if it were not pretty clear that she hadn't been brought here for her own safety. Who was the boss her captor had spoken about? And what was he—or she—going to do with her?
When a figure finally appeared at the doorway, Chloe's first question was answered, and she was pretty sure she didn't want to know the answer to the second.
Tall. Grey-bearded. Clad entirely in black, his cloak held in place by an elaborate silver clasp.
The Republic's most wanted man.
The leader of the so-called Confederacy of Independent Systems.
Ranario Dooku Gerianus d'Serenno.
Known to the masses, more simply, as Count Dooku.
If she had not been restrained, Chloe would have looked behind her.
What could he possibly want from her?
Standing an arm's length away, Dooku scrutinised her with a look that seemed to scour her soul.
"So this is Karl O'Brian's daughter," he said, in an accent disturbingly similar to Obi-Wan's. "It is a shame we must meet in these circumstances. For a time your father had hoped you might follow in his footsteps, and work for us."
Speechless, filled with revulsion, Chloe simply stared at him.
"He was dedicated to our struggle, and his weapon stands as testimony to that."
Outraged, she finally found her voice. "My father was a decent man. He would have died rather than work for you."
The Count raised an eyebrow. "You still believe that?" He took a step closer, and pressed a cold, gloved finger under her chin, tilting her face upwards. She could smell his fancy cologne and the leather of his gloves. His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly as he focused on something distant. Then he smiled. "You really do. How… charming."
Abruptly, Dooku glanced behind, to the door. "Status, Morlan. Do we have him on com?"
Chloe could not make out the muffled reply. Dooku turned his attention back to Chloe. "It seems we have a few minutes to pass, my dear. Perhaps I can enlighten you as to your father's true allegiances. Let me help your memory a little."
He did not touch her, but she felt him, a presence, darkness crawling over her scalp, like some kind of awful insect, searching for a soft point, a crack, a place to burrow in, and the worst thing was she knew there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop it. Dooku had been a Jedi once, Chloe knew that, and despite his prominent role as a Separatist, he was widely regarded as a man of integrity, a gentleman, somehow distant from the atrocities his side often perpetrated. This, though, what he was poised to do to her, violate her mind—surely this could not be a technique the Jedi condoned? Dooku might be an aristocrat, but he was no gentleman. A gentleman would not—
Dooku's breath hitched just a fraction of a second before Chloe felt something within her slip, and she steeled herself, anticipating pain or whatever unspeakable horror he was about to unleash.
But instead she found herself gasping as a thousand images flooded her mind. Not just images, but memories, complete with sounds and smells and the self-centred, innocent emotions of a child.
Dooku smiled, and Chloe recognised that smile.
She recognised him. She knew him.
Self-satisfied didn't even come close to describing his expression. "You remember," he said.
"You used to come to my house." Her voice was hoarse with disbelief.
"Yes, my dear. Of course I did. Your father and I were good friends."
"You tricked him. Used your power to twist his mind."
Dooku seemed to find her genuinely amusing. "If it were as easy as that, my dear girl, then the war would already be won. Coercion without motivation works only on the weak-minded. Your father could see the corruption in the Senate as clearly as I could. It took no persuasion at all for him to want to dedicate his genius to the greater good."
He was so smooth. So convincing. Chloe felt faint. "No," she croaked.
He ignored her. "Nothing is crueller than nature, as Karl often remarked. And I have to agree there is something exquisite in harnessed that cruelty and power and turning it against those who think themselves to be above nature, beyond discipline and exempt from justice. "
Dooku took a long breath, then smiled. "Such a magnificent scientist. I grieve for him still. Sadly, though, we have no time to reminisce. It is time to proceed with business."
And now Chloe was gripped by a new fear. What exactly was he planning? She opened her mouth to speak, but Dooku had already turned away, to the man with the visor—Morlan, Dooku had called him— who had stepped back inside the cube, one hand to his ear. "Just awaiting confirmation, my lord. Camera's online and ready to roll."
Dooku took a few strides away from Chloe. "Stay clear. Dim the lights." A few seconds later the ambient lighting faded, leaving a single spotlight shining on Chloe's face. She blinked against the brightness, struggling to see.
"We have him, my lord."
"Patch him through to broadcast," Dooku said. There was a painful whine of feedback, then a click as the call connected, followed by the voice she was both hoping, and dreading, to hear.
"…tell them I'm on my way, and to wait for my order. Don't let them go in alone, the structure might be damaged and we need to figure out how to get the injured out before we risk and more damage. Stang this speeder, it's slower than a glumworm. How's the Senate district holding up—"
"Master Kenobi," Dooku interrupted, a sly smile in his voice.
"What?" Obi-Wan said. "Speak up, who is this?"
"An old friend."
"Dooku." Obi-Wan enunciated the single word with the precise loathing Chloe now felt with every single cell in her body.
"Secure this channel and turn off all other transmissions to and from this vehicle, please."
A pause. "It's done."
"Master Kenobi. I am about to make you an offer, but first I need to make clear that it is for you and only you. Involve anyone else and the offer is immediately void. Do you understand?"
"Just get on with it."
"I'm terribly sorry. You must be a busy man today. But I think you will want to see this."
Dooku nodded at Morlan, who stepped up to Chloe, and pressed the blaster muzzle under her chin. "Speak," he hissed.
"Obi-Wan?" she called out, her voice sounding thin and afraid. "Don't listen to him, whatever—"
"Enough," Dooku interrupted. Take at look at your viewscreen, Master Kenobi."
Silence. Chloe took a breath. Then a second. Then a third before Obi-Wan finally spoke.
"You have my attention."
Dooku smoothed a hand over the sleeve of his cloak, pausing as if to collect his thoughts. "Master Kenobi, in just over an hour, we will be performing a demonstration of the late Professor O'Brian's bio-weapon, the Z-toxin, as you call it. I think have probably become acquainted, by now, with its sophistication and power. The demonstration will be broadcast live on the holonet to best publicise those qualities. However, in order to avoid unnecessary loss of life, the weapon will not be demonstrated on the population at large, but on a single individual."
Dooku's gaze turned to Chloe, and her blood ran cold.
"The subject of the demonstration, as you have probably gathered, is your dear, close friend, Chloe O'Brian."
"Dooku, if you think that—" Obi-Wan began, but Dooku interrupted him.
"Please, let me finish. Now, I imagine that you may find this situation somewhat undesirable." Dooku softened his voice as he continued, "I suspect what she means to you, Obi-Wan. I do not want this to happen any more than you do, and if the decision was mine alone it would not. But, sadly, the demonstration must go ahead. However, I have an alternative to propose. You may take her place."
Sickened, Chloe couldn't stand to look at him. It's a trick, she wanted to call out. Don't believe him; don't believe anything he says.
Silence from Obi-Wan. Dooku nodded to Morlan, who stepped away from Chloe, disappearing out of the door and into the shadows beyond.
"If you wish to take me up on my offer," Dooku went on, "you will report, within forty-five minutes, to the coordinates being sent to you now. You will then be escorted to the location of the demonstration, and Miss O'Brian will be released. I do not need to warn you to come alone, and unarmed. If we have no contact from you within forty-five minutes, we proceed with Miss O'Brian as the subject. At any hint of a breach of these terms, we will proceed immediately. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes." Obi-Wan's voice was raw with tension."Perfectly."
And that was it. The connection terminated, and Chloe let out a shaky breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them, Dooku was standing in front of her once again. She could swear he was breathing in her fear. "I'm sorry it has to be this way," he said, in that same, soft voice he had used with Obi-Wan. "If it were not for Kenobi's foolish Padawan involving you in our affairs none of this would have had to happen."
Chloe's cheeks were burning with disbelief, fear, anger, and grief. How could her father have been responsible for the Z-toxin. How could he? "We have an antidote."
"With you?"
She glared at him, and Dooku smiled back, tight-lipped. "The power of a weapon lies not its true destructive capabilities, but in what people believe its capabilities to be. Although surely you don't believe your father would create something that could be so easily defeated? Perhaps you will live to learn the truth. If—and I pray in your father's memory that he will—Obi-Wan Kenobi chooses the honorable path tonight."
Chloe shook her head. "He won't turn himself in for me."
Dooku looked at her intently, then raised an eyebrow. "And how pleased you are to believe that. What a strange child you are." He glanced over his shoulder, as if responding to something Chloe could not see or hear. "Ah, now, sadly, I must bid you farewell, my dear. Duty calls me away from this place."
She watched him turn and leave, heels clicking on the polished floor long after he had disappeared into the darkness.
Chloe slumped against the pillar. Did Dooku really believe she was Obi-Wan's weakness? That she could be used as bait to trap the revered General Kenobi? It was certainly true that a live demonstration of the toxin on one of the Republic's greatest Jedi would be the ultimate propaganda coup, and that it would strike fear into the hearts and minds of populations across the galaxy.
But if there was one thing that Chloe was certain of, one cold, cruel comfort in the oppressing horror of this impossible situation, it was that Dooku was utterly, completely, and foolishly wrong.
Everything Chloe had learned about the Jedi in the past few months, everything she knew about Obi-Wan Kenobi, told her, without question, that he would not come.
Not when the planet was under attack. Not when his duty lay elsewhere. Not when tens of thousands—perhaps even millions—of beings needed his help. Not when a great many of them were more important to the Republic than her.
Tonight, she was insignificant.
And she was well and truly on her own.
A/N: So, dear readers, what do you think? Is Chloe right? Or will Obi-Wan turn himself in? :D