Part Six
Dooku was a practitioner and advocate of the Living Force. He saw a problem and sought to fix it. The Unifying Force, the visions of past and future, had a time and place, it was what connected all. But the Living Force was what demanded attention as it was always pointing things out and seeking possible changes. The Living Force guided connections, sought harmony and balance, and pulled one to where one needed to be. The Unifying Force brought knowledge, overarching themes of when, and insight. Dooku respected and used the Unifying Force when he could, but ultimately it was the Living Force that always guided his hand.
It was why when he found himself dreaming of Qui-Gon again that he doubted it was anything more than a dream. He didn't have enough connection with the Unifying Force to give him such dreams or visions.
But he was once again in that colorless room, darker than ever before, with the effervescently glowing blue form of Qui-Gon, and Dooku couldn't help but wonder if the Unifying Force was trying to tell him something.
"Ah, I see you're starting to believe in me," Qui-Gon smiled.
Dooku just shook his head. Best to let this play out however it would play out. He would meditate on it later.
Qui-Gon shook his head sadly. "It seems, my old master, that you're putting too many things off until 'later'."
"Oh?"
His deceased Padawan said nothing, merely glanced around the very dark room. "I will say, however, you finally made a step in the right direction."
Dooku scoffed. "I wasn't aware I was going in the wrong direction. And the wrong direction with what?"
"You've finally acknowledged those Padawans of mine as yours as well." Qui-Gon's eyes danced with amusement. "And your description of coalesced matter was positively inspired. Why didn't I get such deep and motivating speeches when I was your apprentice?"
"You wouldn't have listened," Dooku replied with a nostalgic smile. "If it wasn't in the immediate, you put on your selective hearing."
"Hmmm. True. I do wonder how you turned me into such a successful Knight. Looking back I must have been such a handful."
Dooku snorted, not bothering to dignify that with a response. "Besides," he added quietly. "I lacked the wisdom. I wonder how I made you successful as well. I was so naïve back then."
"To both of our benefits," Qui-Gon said softly.
They sat together a moment, in mutual reflection.
Qui-Gon looked to Dooku then, absolutely beaming. "That little speech also loosened the hold of the other influence on young Anakin a fair bit. And you didn't even realize what you were doing. Face it, my old master, you're good."
Dooku raised a dark brow. "You give me credit for something I don't understand. I never realized that you lost your direct approach in your old age, instead taking up riddles."
He got a hearty laugh in response. "If I died in my old age, you must be ancient."
Dooku shrugged, not caring about how many decades he'd lived.
Qui-Gon's smile remained warm. "I never cared much for riddles and still don't. But there is a limit."
The Jedi master scoffed. "Meaning my brain hasn't processed something yet."
"And we're back to denying what you're seeing." Qui-Gon sat back with a frustrated sigh that reminded Dooku far too much of when this man was a petulant teenager.
They sat in silence again before Dooku attempted to change the subject. "So I've done something right, yet this room is darker than the last time."
Qui-Gon nodded, his eyes piercing Dooku's with a heavy seriousness. "You're burying. Not releasing."
Dooku frowned.
"Many things have stirred up in you, my dear old master, particularly with my Padawans. But you're waiting to deal with it and you're going to explode if you don't start dealing with it now."
"There is no emotion."
"But there is no peace. Not in you."
"But-"
"I'm sorry," Qui-Gon said quietly as his glowing form started to fade. "Until you release, I cannot visit you again..."
"Qui-Gon!"
Dooku reached out, some instinct he didn't recognize and couldn't control, and merely grasped air as he sat up in bed panting.
The morning was spent staring out his window, watching the sunrise in brilliant pinks and purples, then golds and blues. It was glorious by any standard, and yet he could only feel darkness. Dooku had not realized how deeply Qui-Gon's dreams had touched him until his dead Padawan had announced without preamble he wouldn't be visiting again. It was like he had lost him a second time, and the hurt Dooku felt was unimaginable. Worse, the HoloNet declared the fourth trial of Qui-Gon's killers had been acquitted, once more the Nemoidians that had set it all in motion walking free.
The galaxy was a dark, dark place when injustices like this were a matter of course. Corruption seemed to be everywhere: in the Senate, in the Judiciary, in Security. Had the galaxy ever suffered such negativity before? Dooku wondered, as he often did these days, if all those old prophecies about the Dark Times were coming true.
He sighed, looking out to the sunrise, and wondered if the times were darkening or if it was just him.
No, it was the times. The death of Qui-Gon was merely the latest in a long series of signs.
Perhaps the debacle at Galidraan had been the first. Or had it started even earlier?
Was he a fool to not see it until now?
His quasi-meditation was interrupted as Benaag called for breakfast, and Dooku allowed himself a dark growl before turning from the window and going downstairs. He let the boys, Obi-Wan and Anakin, lead the conversation with the staff; Anakin and old Anton getting into a heated debate about the finer points of some racetrack on Coruscant, while Benaag and Dayu expressed their desire to do a thorough cleaning of the house after the violation of the kidnapping had defaced the very nature of their home.
Shortly afterward Benaag recited the schedule for the day. He had just finished when the main gate buzzed, and the butler quickly called up the security feed to see who was dropping by unannounced.
Councilor Bridge was on the viewscreen, resplendent in a shimmering green frock, her honey curls cascading over one of her shoulders. Beside her was Lord Mesagog.
"See them in, Mr. Benaag," Dooku said quickly, "And see that we are not disturbed."
"Yes, milord," the butler said, nodding in understanding. "We'll enlist your grandsons to help us with the house."
"Aw," Anakin muttered.
Within ten minutes Dooku was in his office, looking at his sword display, and turning to see Councilor Bridge striding into the room, Mesagog at her heels.
"You're all right!" she said brightly. "You really are all right!" She swept her arms open and pulled him into a tight hug. It was not short enough for Dooku to avoid feeling every curve of her tastefully covered body, and she showered him with a bright smile when she looked up to him. He was surprised to see a shiny glisten in her eyes.
"I am sorry to have caused you such concern," he said quickly, offering her and her companion a seat.
"When Mesagog told me the story..." she started, wiping at an eye with a look of annoyance. "These are dark days indeed when such villainy comes even to our own planet!"
Her words echoed Dooku's own black musings that morning, and his face darkened considerably when he answered, "Villainy seems to be found everywhere."
Bridge nodded sagely. "You should see some of the reports that come across my desk these days; this generation of teenagers seem to have turned into nothing but hooligans, so many of them simply leave the planet, much like your dearly beloved son, and are lost to the corruption inherent in the Republic. My own cousin left when I was a child, and he died not a year later."
Dooku blinked, having never known that piece of information, and realized that Bridge was sharing with him a private moment, and invitation to make him a part of her inner circle. Excitement snapped through him but he quickly suppressed it, instead leaning further back in his seat. "My own son, at least," he said slowly, softly, "I could understand. He lived in a much larger world than the rest of us, and Zeltrax was simply too small for him. That he lived as happy a life as he seemed to... I feel that I am happy for him." His eyes misted, thinking about his dream, and he worked to put it away. "But he would have been so much safer here, on Zeltrax. I can only hope that I can protect his sons as I could not protect him."
Bridge nodded, something in her face changing slightly, and her eyes warmed. "You are a good man, Count Dooku, and I was remiss to not see it earlier."
"Our most defining moments, it seems," Mesagog said, his gold eyes bright, slightly far away, "are often our most private." He looked away. Bridge reached over and placed a hand on his claws, a look of deep understanding on her face. Dooku realized there were still some boundaries he had yet to cross, and he waited, knowing now was not the time to press. He also realized that Mesagog was much closer to Bridge than he had initially suspected, and was now glad that he had fostered a friendship with him.
"Some moments, at least, can be shared with others," he said slowly, carefully. "Such as your extraordinary assistance in the rescue. I am deeply indebted to you, and offer my services, limited though they are, to you whenever you are in need."
Bridge and Mesagog exchanged a long gaze at each other, before the reptilian nodded and Bridge turned back to Dooku.
"I now consider you a deep friend, Dooku," she said, her voice formal even if the lack of title was decidedly not. "There are some private functions coming up in the next few weeks that I would like to personally invite you to. I know you do not consider yourself fit to be a politician, but I think your views on the world and on the galaxy would be highly valued."
Dooku could not believe this was happening so quickly. He allowed himself a small grin, hiding the self-satisfaction and instead showing only honored humility. "If you think it best, I would be most happy to oblige."
"Excellent," Bridge said, leaning back in her seat, a hand reaching up to play with the curls on her shoulder. "With the formalities taken care of, I'd much rather get to the real reason for the visit. I would very much like to see the health of those two boys. When Mesagog explained the plight you suffered I was so dreadfully worried. It was all I could do to wait as long as I did before making a call."
"Of course," Dooku nodded. "I'm sure they'd be more than happy to talk with you and-"
The door burst open, quite unexpectedly, and a cylindrical cleaning droid charged into the room. Perched on it was young Anakin, hastily fiddling with an open panel of wiring, sparks flying everywhere, before the droid spun around several times and ran out of the room. Several curses could be heard over the noise of the droid, followed almost immediately with a resounding crash.
All three shared a look before instantly getting up and following the latest string of curses.
"Anakin, I told you no tinkering!"
"I was only trying to help!"
"The floors, the floors! Look at all the scratches! The entire hallway needs to be sanded down and re-stained because of this! I'm not paid enough for these inconveniences!"
"Miss Dayu, please calm down, I'm sure-"
"Augh! The carpets!"
"Tie that boy up right now! I don't care if he is the young master; no one is going to touch any of these droids until I call a mechanic and get them fixed!"
"I understand-"
"You're not really going to tie me up, are you, Obi-Wan?"
"Just come with me Anakin, we can help-"
"I am perfectly capable of handling my chores with peak efficiency and do not need further assistance, young masters."
"... I see, Mr. Benaag."
"You can get better efficiency if you only alter the brush speed of the static duster droid by three percent, and you can use this new synthetic material I found on the HoloNet to-"
"Good day, young masters. I will clean the... mess."
"But I-"
"Good day, young masters."
Dooku intervened: "Consider this your first lesson in the art of integration," he said slowly to Anakin. The boy looked up, startled, but Obi-Wan only turned calmly, clearly having felt his approach. Another lesson to teach the boy, while the pair were here. The sudden thought of them leaving once the Jedi had collected them left him feeling... wanting, but he pushed the thought aside. "There is a difference in wishing to help out and brazenly showing off one's skills. Especially if there is an overestimation in such. It is always better to downplay, to be invisible, until the time is right. You knew to do that before," he added, referring to the kidnapping, "but it appears you need to learn it applies to all aspects of life."
Anakin gauged Dooku slowly, his eyes narrow, before puffing up. "But I'm not meant to be invisible!" he said proudly.
This boy...!
Bridge burst out laughing, a bell-like sound, and Dooku found a much more wistful look on the reptilian Mesagog's face. The planet councilor looked in askance to Dooku before stepping forward and running her hands through the boy's cropped hair; then she touched her forehead to his. "Enjoy these days of youth," she said softly, "Enjoy the confidence and the certainty of the future. They'll be ripped from you all too soon."
Anakin's face darkened, but all he said was, "Yes, my Councilor," in a soft mumble.
She stood to her full height. "And you, young master Obi-Wan? How do you fair after this trying ordeal?"
The young redhead nodded politely. "Maintaining equilibrium, my Councilor, and more than relieved that Anakin is all right."
The bright smile on Bridge's face turned wistful, like Mesagog's. "Such good children. Seeing you makes me wish I had them when I had the chance."
Another personal detail. Dooku could not believe the amount of trust she was giving them. He felt obliged to return it.
"You both are more than welcome to stay for lunch. You can view the gardens behind the house; my gardener does exquisite work."
Bridge perked immediately, turning around quickly enough that her honey-brown curls swished to the other shoulder. "That is such a generous offer, my Lord," she said brightly.
"Hardly generous," Dooku said politely, "I would be rather selfishly imposing myself into good conversation. It would also be good training for the boys, they still have much to learn about their home planet, and who better to learn it from than a planetary councilor and one of the highest lords on the central continent?"
"Wait, so you're powerful?" Anakin asked, looking up to the reptilian. "More powerful than the rest of the nobility?"
Mesagog put a three-taloned hand on the preteen's head, patting it. Anakin scowled at the childish gesture but otherwise said nothing, and the reptilian nodded. "Rumor has it I do very well for myself."
And that was how it started. Dooku lead them on a leisurely stroll to the back gardens and away from Benaag and Dayu as they worked to clean the house. Dooku saw Tori watching from a window and nodded to her that there would be two extra guests for lunch, and then began showing them the flower garden that Anton had been sculpting as the summer seasons began. The sun was already very high in the sky and warmed everyone, making the beds of color more opulent. They talked about planetary politics, sharing views and respect for their culture and loathing for the Republic.
"Rumor has it things have only gotten worse since Senator Goldar was elected," Bridge said. "I do not wish to speak ill of a fellow politician, but his manner is downright duplicitous. Look at the debut you had arranged for your grandsons, a private affair and yet he arrived without invitation to... what? Remind everyone that he was important? Look for new blood for his administration? You must forgive me but I do not like him."
"Your first point is rather interesting," Obi-Wan said. "You imply that politicians here are not - to use your phrase - 'duplicitous.' Inexperienced as I am in the ways of politics, I've yet to find a politician that isn't duplicitous, if you'll forgive my assumption."
"Padme isn't duplicitous," Anakin said hotly.
"... 'Padme'?" Bridge asked.
"She's the Queen of Naboo," Anakin said, puffing up in pride again. "She fought off the Trade Federation and-"
"And my brother has had a crush on her ever since he saw her on the HoloNet," Obi-Wan cut in quickly. "The invasion by the Trade Federation was covered very intensely on our old planet, and Queen Amidala made a very strong impression whenever she was on camera."
Councilor Bridge frowned. Deeply. "When was this?" she asked.
"Three years ago."
Dooku watched intently as the woman frowned even more, a delicate hand rising to her chin. Mesagog, too, frowned as much as his reptilian features would allow.
"What happened?" she asked, slowly.
Obi-Wan took a deep breath. "As I understand it, some new taxation on trade routes had been passed in the Senate, and the Trade Federation sought to make a point by creating a blockade around Naboo. Not only did they create a blockade, but apparently they also invaded the planet and occupied it for a short time, kidnapping the ruling council and sending Queen Amidala fleeing to the Senate. She was able to return to her planet and stage a coup; the Viceroy of the Trade Federation was arrested. The story must have lasted three weeks or so."
Bridge and Mesagog stared, slightly poleaxed, at the brief recitation of events, before the middle-aged councilor gave a great huff. "I cannot believe this, I simply cannot believe this! We knew nothing of this."
Obi-Wan blinked, and Dooku took a measured step back, the Force pulsing that he wait and listen. "The galaxy is very large, my Councilor, it can hardly be expected of you to know of all the stories going on at any one time."
Bridge shook her head. "That is true, young lord, but I looked. I remember when Senator Goldar posted the new taxation laws, and I knew, I knew that the giant monopolies like the Trade Federation or the others would protest. I combed the HoloNet daily because I thought there would be a protest or a strike or a boycott, and yet I never learned of this." She started pacing in the gardens, her airy frock swishing back and forth. "How could the HoloNet fail like this?"
Dooku saw his opening.
"It is most likely because the HoloNet is no longer an independent information network," he suggested, rubbing his beard as if in deep thought. "I've long suspected that the HoloNet is controlled, either by the Senate or a conglomerate such as the Trade Federation or the Commerce Guild or the Banking Clans, and through them they disseminate the information they want us to know. Our entire sector is very private, we do not share our information willingly unless parties earn our trust, and it is entirely possible that whomever controls the HoloNet decided to return the favor."
"Distasteful," Mesagog muttered. "Uncivilized."
"I agree," Dooku said, nodding his head sagely and continuing to play his part. "I had suspected it for a long time, but with no proof I had no desire to say anything. This seems to be consummate evidence that someone in the galaxy wishes to control information. That is disturbing on the most fundamental level."
"Something must be done," Councilor Bridge said, her face still frowning fiercely. "Perhaps I should make note of it to Senator Goldar. Loathe him though I may, he might have information that could help us understand better what is happening with public communications. Suffice to say I do not trust the HoloNet at this time to find the information."
Mesagog said nothing, giving a long, measured gaze to them both. Dooku sensed something, the slightest tremor in the Force, but it was gone before he could interpret its meaning.
"For now," the reptilian said, "there is nothing to be done. Perhaps we should turn to lighter topics of conversation to restore our hope in the galaxy."
"Agreed," Bridge said, smiling at her close friend. "Perhaps the children could tell us stories?"
"I'm not a child," Anakin muttered.
Their conversation was light after that.
Dooku leapt back into a flip and then back stepped. The move was more flashy and felt more Ataru than his preferred Makashi, but since Obi-Wan had the occasional Ataru flip or dodge, Dooku decided to incorporate it as well, as a family move passed down through Qui-Gon.
Given that Dooku's current sparing partner was Mesagog, it seemed the more prudent thing to do. The older reptilian repositioned his staff; his eyes twinkling in competitive spirit as he reassessed what Dooku could do with his advanced years.
Dooku had never imagined when he'd first arrived on Zeltrax of being able to spar like this. The natural levels of formality and protocol almost denied it, though Dooku knew there were competitions for those much younger than himself. When his grandPadawans arrived, Dooku had been too busy keeping a distance, being fascinated and not wishing to interfere in a Master/Padawan team when not invited. Though he had sparred with them, neither were truly at his level. Anakin was still just learning and Obi-Wan was still settling into a new style. Mesagog, however, was a challenge. His preference of the staff, a fresh perspective.
Dooku's days were filled with less time on his correspondences and intrigue, now that he had his grandPadawans and both Mesagog and Councilor Bridge were frequent visitors. His mornings were spent with Obi-Wan and Anakin, trying to catch the boy up on his studies. The afternoons often had either one or both of Mesagog and Bridge over, leaving Dooku playing host. The evenings were the only time the Jedi Master could reserve for maintaining his correspondences. Yet he found it... refreshing.
A small part of him wondered if this was how families normally worked. It was a fascinating concept and Dooku had certainly seen and worked with many families in his various undercover assignments. He'd even posed as such a time or two when he was much younger with fellow Jedi. But the feeling of connection just wasn't there in that make-believe. This was... truer.
He pushed aside such thoughts, focusing instead on his spar with Mesagog. The staff came down and Dooku blocked, feeling the force of it ripple through his arms, so rather than resist, he flowed around it, sidestepping and jabbing at Mesagog's unprotected side. The reptilian was fast, however, and back-stepped, dodging and leaving the two circling once more.
Across the yard, Obi-Wan was putting Anakin through his paces, partly as exercise given that Obi-Wan finally was back up to strength and striving to get back to shape and partly because Anakin fumed that he hadn't been able to fight during his rescue.
Dooku tried to keep a partial eye on them, though Mesagog required a great deal of attention, and he noted Anakin's tendency towards angry swings. It was while he and Mesagog had locked weapons that he heard it.
"No Anakin, wrong footing!"
But the shout was too late. Dooku's youngest grandPadawan had walked right into a sharp strike from Obi-Wan and was now holding a shoulder carefully.
Mesagog and Dooku immediately disengaged and took off running and Anton, who had been working in a garden nearby, took off for the house to get Dayu.
"Anakin? Anakin, are you alright?" Obi-Wan was holding the boy carefully as Anakin silently tried to deal with the pain, reaching chaotically for the Force, but too embroiled in pain to do it correctly. "I'm sorry, Anakin," Obi-Wan continued. "I told you to watch your footing but you rushed in so fast and I'm sorry."
"Easy there," Mesagog put a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "It was an accident. Settle down."
Obi-Wan frowned strongly, but said nothing and Dooku thought he caught some sort of feeling about a vow to not hurt Anakin filter through the Force, but he ignored it for the moment as Anakin was his primary concern.
"Don't hold it in," he said gently, taking Anakin's hand from the injured shoulder. "Holding it in seems brave and adult, but it just festers. Let go. You're safe here to express anything."
" 's weakness," Anakin hissed.
Dooku frowned. What sort of life did this child have to already know not to express any weaknesses?
"And who here would use your pain against you?"
Anakin just shook his head and Dooku thought he saw an image of a Hutt.
In that flash, Dooku suddenly understood that Anakin had not sat down to address and deal with anything that had happened in his life. Obi-Wan was young and still a fresh knight and master. He wouldn't have the insight to see this as a problem, but Dooku, who had decades of experience, saw how this could suddenly be an issue that Anakin would face for the entirety of his life. It needed to be dealt with, before it festered any further.
And Dooku's shoulders sank because Qui-Gon had told him the same thing. He needed to deal with his own issues, because he'd been burying them instead of releasing them, particularly since these two came into his life.
What a fool he'd been.
Dayu came rushing over, medkit in hand, and Dooku pulled away enough to let her in.
"Anakin, I need to teach you how to use a sword," he said firmly.
"Wha, what? But Obi-Wan's my teacher!"
"And he still will be. But you need my style. It will help you with focus and control."
"Grandfather?" Obi-Wan asked.
"I'll explain later. For now," he lifted his grandson as Dayu kept fussing, "let's get Anakin to bed."
Once Anakin was settled, Mesagog pulled him aside. Obi-Wan stayed with his Padawan, and as Dooku walked away with his friend, he could already feel them slipping into a joint meditation to deal with the pain.
"Are you sure this is wise?" Mesagog asked. "Your style, what I've seen of it, is very focused yes, but I don't think that child is ready."
Dooku let out a long sigh. "He bears a great deal of anger and absolutely no control over it. My style, it will give him the tools necessary to deal with that anger."
Mesagog looked at him sadly. "And don't you think you should deal with your own anger before teaching him?"
"Qui-Gon," Dooku whispered, looking to the side. He knew that his form, focused as it was, had been sloppy against Mesagog and the reptilian was a good enough fighter to see it. It was partly why Dooku hadn't sparred much with his grandPadawans.
A taloned hand offered a comforting squeeze of his shoulder.
"Grief takes time," Mesagog said quietly, also lost in his thoughts.
"Your pardon, my friend," Dooku turned. "I think I, too, must retire for the day."
Mesagog gave an approving nod. "Take all the time you'll need."
Mornings were becoming decidedly difficult for Dooku, as he woke up with increased frustration each time that he had not seen Qui-Gon in a dream. Oh, it was irrational, he knew, but when dawn came he and stared at his ceiling he found himself wishing he was in that dark grey room, even if only to look at the ethereal form of his Padawan, to gaze at those young and laughing eyes and that ever-present smile. Without him... But it had been dreams, nothing more; rapid eye movement with enhanced cranial activity that was required for any and all living creatures. Qui-Gon hadn't really been there, it was simply the neurons of his mind firing back and forth: garbage in, garbage out. If he had any kind of solid connection to the Unifying Force, he might think differently, but he didn't, so it wasn't. It wasn't Qui-Gon reborn, and he was the fool to keep thinking on it. Dooku berated himself again as he pulled himself out of bed, lethargic because of his emotions and determined to shove it all aside and compose himself. He was on a mission, for star's sake, he could not afford to let his motions overrun him.
There was no emotion, there was peace.
"But there is no peace. Not in you."
No. He was fine.
He was fine.
He was-
"Breakfast is ready, milord."
"Thank you, Mr. Benaag."
And Dooku took a deep breath, looking at the dim prospect of the morning, and left his room to join the others. By the time he had reached the dining hall he was once more the perfectly composed Jedi posing as a perfectly composed count of a minor continent. Nothing bothered him; nothing touched him; nothing-
"Morning, Grandpa!"
Anakin burst into the dining room, Obi-Wan close behind, and threw his arms around the count with such force that the two nearly tipped over before the boy wretched himself away and darted to the table.
"Good morning, grandfather," Obi-Wan said, much more sedate, before joining his brother.
And just like that his eyes burned and he was back to square one.
He took a deep breath and pushed it all away, trying to go back to the role he had to play.
The morning was spent locked up in his office, the decaying flowers on his table a vivid reminder of the period of mourning. Dooku ignored it in favor of instruction, both for Obi-Wan and Anakin.
"That's just stupid!"
Or trying to.
Anakin seemed determined to be just as difficult as Qui-Gon had been, set in his own ideas and certain his ideas were correct. This lead to deeper issues, Dooku was certain, and a glance at Obi-Wan always showed that he knew about it but had no idea how to confront it. Obi-Wan was currently trying to coax the boy around his claim with logic, but the boy was having one of his preteen mood swings, and was digging in his heels deeper than a cornered nerf.
"Tell me," Dooku said, "Why you must always be right?"
"Because I am!"
Dooku raised an eyebrow, and watched as Anakin, now slightly more pliant to his looks, shut his mouth and hunched forward, settling in for a lecture.
"Let me ask another way," Dooku said, leaning back in his chair. "Why must you defend your point of view, right or wrong, to such a bitter end?"
The boy said nothing, glaring at him.
Dooku pressed his focus onto the boy, determined to provoke something. "Why must you never show weakness?" he asked.
There it was: a picture of a Hutt, followed by a greasy Toydarian; the sensation of being struck, memories of children laughing, a pillar of anger and resentment. The sensations jumbled soon after, but Dooku had seen enough. "Who were they?" he asked.
"... Who?"
"The Hutt and the Toydarian."
The boy flinched, something he had never done before; whatever Dooku had expected, it had not been that reaction.
Obi-Wan, however, was more forthcoming. "The Toydarian goes by the name of Watto, he was Anakin's owner when we first discovered him. I suspect the Hutt was another owner."
"Obi-Wan," Anakin hissed.
"He may be able to help you where I cannot," Obi-Wan replied, "And space knows you need the help."
"Obi-Wan!"
"Anakin was a slave."
Something deep in Dooku had gone cold as he realized just why it had taken so long to discover young Anakin, and why the boy was so polluted with anger. Slavery? ... Slavery? The Senate had failed again! That such an abomination was still practiced...! Dooku clenched his jaw very tightly; breathing slowly through his nose and struggling to shove his righteous fury aside in order to properly deal with the new wrinkle in young Anakin's training that had just been presented him. Another dried out petal fell from the mourning vase, and Dooku watched it flick to the table with burning eyes, Qui-Gon unexpectedly filling his mind. Of all the pathetic life forms to come upon! That man enjoyed bothering Dooku even from beyond the pyre! The unmitigated cheek!
He shoved it all aside.
"I see," he said slowly, everything about him tightly controlled. "I suspect that his experiences have affected his psyche as well as his disposition."
"Yes, though how much of it is because of his experience or because he was taken late I'm not entirely certain."
"Percentages are irrelevant in this case, what's more important is undoing what damage we can. I'll ask for a few files from the Archives in my next transmission, I know there are some meditations designed specifically for younglings found in slavery. He will likely never fully recover from that kind of trauma, particularly if he was held by a Hutt, but some of his psyche can be saved, usually enough that he-"
"I'm in the room you know!" young Anakin cut in, his eyes bright with anger. "And I'm not some broken hydrospanner! You make it sound like I can't be a Jedi because I was a slave, that's what everyone at the Temple said when they found out! I'm gonna prove you all wrong, just like Palpatine said!"
That caused a screeching halt to Dooku's thoughts and plans. He turned to the child with a look of honest confusion.
"You know the Supreme Chancellor?"
"Of course I do," Anakin said, suddenly smug. "He knows a lot more than you."
"I find that difficult to believe," Dooku said coolly, "Since when we first met he was seeking my council."
That stopped the boy right in his tracks. "Wait, you know him too?"
Dooku smirked, only a hint of the smugness the boy had shown, but enough to make his point. "Since his first term as a senator," he said casually. "I was assigned a protection detail to him when a threat to his life as discovered. He calls me about twice a year or so."
Anakin openly blinked. "I thought I was the only Jedi he liked to see."
"On the contrary," Dooku said, "He's been a stout supporter of Jedi ideals for many years - even when the Jedi themselves are not - and he is often in contact with the High Council."
"... 'Even when the Jedi themselves are not'... ?" Obi-Wan questioned, looking decidedly uncomfortable.
Ah, he would be a supporter of the Council, overpowered by the Unifying Force as he was. Dooku had been, once, too; but as Qui-Gon's Padawan, Dooku would not leave the boy excluded just because he had proved to be as diluted as the Council. The Jedi Master steepled his fingers and crossed a leg over his knee, calculating how he could present his concerns about the Order without completely frightening the boy.
Anakin, however, beat him to it. "The Jedi don't do enough," he supplied, turning in his seat to look at his master in the eye. "I've been telling you that for forever, but Palpatine agrees with me. There are tons more people out there we can help but we don't, instead we just wait around for someone to ask for help. Everything gets all bogged down with procedures and arguments and nobody can make a decision because Yoda, the guy who's supposed to be in charge, doesn't make any decisions and just sits on his overstuffed poodoo stool and meditates. The Jedi need a guy in charge who will make decisions. Like me!"
Obi-Wan openly blinked, his face pinched in disbelief. "Chancellor Palpatine... he's actually told you this?"
"Yup! I'm destined for greatness! But that's only if you and the stupid council can ever lighten up and let me do what I want, because I know what I'm doing and it's stupid that you keep dismissing all my ideas. If the Supreme Chancellor knows how great I am, then the Jedi should, too, but they don't, and it's a sign that they're getting really corrupt."
"I... I can't believe I'm hearing this..." Obi-Wan said, his voice suddenly higher and tighter. "Anakin, how could you possibly think that I..."
"That you hold me back? Yes, I do."
Oh, dear.
"I am going to intercede before things deteriorate even further," Dooku said swiftly. "Anakin, I can tell you with the certainty of seventy years of experience that no, Obi-Wan is decidedly not holding you back. I have seen him teach you more than enough to know that he is doing exactly what he needs to, and that your thinking otherwise is only going to hurt you in the future. Obi-Wan, yes, the Order is suffering from some fundamental flaws, and I'm sorry that you've had to learn it this way. I can discuss the finer points with you later if you wish."
Chancellor Palpatine, he was deliberately left out of Dooku's small monologue. He had just learned something about his old friend that he had not known before, and he did not know how to interpret this new piece of information. Palpatine had always been a supporter of the Jedi, yes, but of specifically of the Jedi ideals, of going out and helping people, of doing what one must. As a senator he had always strived to give the Jedi work in spirit of that ideal, handing over missions and assignments more than any other senator in his terms. The two had not spoken much since his promotion to Supreme Chancellor, but that the man was so eagerly feeding this boy's ego was... disturbing. How did young Anakin even have access to the Supreme Chancellor - and moreover, why did Palpatine make time for it, enough that the boy felt comfortable not using titles. Just what was his old friend thinking? Planning?
... Was another betrayal looming over him?
He dared not ponder the consequences of that, and brutally shoved that fear aside. Later. That could be dealt with later. Instead, he continued.
"The point of this particular lesson," Dooku said, "Is that Anakin's experience with slavery is affecting his ability to learn." Palpatine's influence was decidedly not mentioned.
"But it's my experience!"
"Yes," Dooku said, "And now you will learn to come to terms with it."
"I don't need to come to terms with it."
"All things need to come to terms," Dooku said over the boy's voice. "Everything one experiences must be looked at, analyzed, accepted, and released to the Force. That you are holding on to your emotions is bad enough, but it is worse that the emotions you cherish are your negative emotions, the ones associated with that Hutt and Toydarian, the fear and anger and resentment that it has left you. That will lead you only to the Dark Side, and both Obi-Wan and I will be damned if we see you Fall."
Anakin held Dooku's gaze for several long moments, defiant, before his expression collapsed on itself.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked, resigned.
"Tell us every memory you have of your childhood. Starting with your earliest."
"What good will that do?"
"It will be a start," Dooku said. "Open your bond with Obi-Wan. He should feel every emotion you experience during your recitation."
"What?"
"Would you rather share such intimate feelings with me?" Dooku asked in a sardonic voice. He couldn't, of course, he didn't have a bond with the boy, not like Obi-Wan did, and frankly it would be a breach of protocol of the highest level to interfere with a Master-Padawan bond, not to mention an intrusion on their training. But Anakin didn't know that and, faced with a choice, he made the obvious decision.
"It will be alright Anakin," Obi-Wan said softly, closing his eyes and shifting immediately into a meditative state. Dooku could feel the pulse of the Force between the two as Anakin prepared, and Dooku sent a silent message to Benaag not to be disturbed until lunch, even by important callers.
For the next two hours, Anakin slowly described every memory he had as a slave; about the chips somewhere in his and his mother's bodies that could explode by remote detonation, of dim images of a Hutt and her unrepentant cruelty, of being gambled away like credits, of long miserable hours in a junk shop, of worrying over his mother's safety, of being laughed at and ridiculed and unable to do anything about it. All of it, in slow, halting, emotional tones that made Dooku loathe the outer rim and alien butchers. Humans never lowered themselves to such barbarism.
Obi-Wan accepted all the imagery and emotive input calmly for the most part, save, for the fact that Dooku could sense, deeper down, swirling emotions of his own. They were buried too deep for Dooku to name them, but he caught a haunting memory of an offshore mining facility, and the pressing thought of Will Qui-Gon find me? Obi-Wan, it seemed, had his own experiences with slavery.
"Share them," he ordered.
The sensation of reluctance was enormous, but slowly Obi-Wan began reciting his own time, kidnapped on Bandomeer by underlings of the then unknown Xanatos, of the collar around his neck and the work he'd had to endure.
Anakin's emotions roiled as he heard the story: surprise and resentment and anger and sympathy and understanding all crumpled together in a tight knot. His lack of self-mastery prevented Dooku from sorting them all out, but the need was ultimately moot as Anakin reached out suddenly and gripped Obi-Wan's hand, squeezing it and sending jumbled emotions through the bond. That sent the meditation into a very different direction, but it was not without its merit and Dooku withdrew from the meditation, letting the two boys bond as they needed. Empathy was the first step in understanding, and at last the hurdle had been cleared. Anakin's own problems still needed to be dealt with, but one major step had been taken.
Dooku looked over his messages and stepped out of his office, taking a datapad with him and setting up shop in the gardens behind the house. Benaag arrived with some reports, and the count informed him that his grandsons were not to be disturbed until lunch; the two needed the time together.
Once he was alone, he took a deep breath of the floral scents. "Qui-Gon," he muttered, "What am I going to do with those boys?"
But his old student would never be with him again, and he couldn't afford to grieve when there was still so much to do, and so he made himself put it away and look at his pad.
He still had work to do.
Author's Notes: Mwahahaha. Another step in loosening Sidious's grip on dear little Anakin and also making Dooku more weary of becoming an apprentice. Dooku is still disillusioned, but now he has a seed of doubt where the Supreme Chancellor is concerned. Amazing how one chance encounter changes everything, ne?
Poor Dooku. Qui-Gon's batted him over the head on what he needs to do but he's still not doing it, preferring to wait until the mission is done.
The next chapter is the finale. We'll have a little more action again and we'll see why Anakin got kidnapped in the first place (distraction) and Dooku will finally release things. In a way.
See you next week!