Chapter 18: War Impending

Quinlan Vos, Jedi Master, was bored. His plan to blow up the droid foundries of Geonosis didn't go as planned. It actually didn't go at all, as he was captured soon after he had cut the com with Qui-Gon. That was embarrassing all on its own, of course. Quinlan had hoped to go down in glorious battle, causing such a scene that the Sith Lord himself had to come and engage with the Master. Quinlan wouldn't have minded being killed by the Sith if it meant he had a shot at stabbing the elderly former Jedi through his smug, stupid face. But no. He was captured by an absolute swarm of chittering, insectoid Geonosians. It was completely humiliating. Nearly as humiliating as being suspended in a containment field. Which he was.

He wriggled, testing the shackles that bound him, keeping him suspended in mid-air in the middle of the empty room. At least he was slowly spinning. Having a chance to look at all the surfaces of the curved wall was better than being stuck looking at just one part of it. There was a crack that looked a fair bit like Master Yoda, if he squinted and the angle was right, and if he wasn't rotating, he may have missed it. He'd have to thank his captors for this...rotational experience. The most distressing thing, of course, was that the field disrupted his connection with the Force, and it sat in his mind like a silent void, it's loss keenly felt. This whole thing was, in a word, stupid.

The locked door hissed open, and Quinlan grinned broadly when Dooku, Count of Serenno, stepped through, his old face apologetic, his demeanor well-meaning. Quinlan would have puked if he wasn't hungry, and he was pretty sure that the contents of his stomach wouldn't fall to the floor, but stay suspended with him in the containment field. And that was just gross.

"Hello, sweetheart!" he chirped instead, laughing loudly as Dooku looked taken aback for a moment, as if he was hearing words that he heard often, though from someone else, and he frowned.

"This is a mistake, Master Vos," the Count started, and Quinlan rolled his eyes. "A terrible mistake. They have gone too far."

"You don't happen to have anything to read, do you? A datapad with something amusing on it? Maybe some Separatist propaganda garbage, by any chance? I'm bored out of my mind. You don't seem like you want to release me, and I know you're in charge around here, so you can just cut the shit, Tyranus."

At this, the Count's face dropped. "I've never heard that name."

"No? Does your Master have another name for you?" He laughed loudly, and the Count seemed to cringe, his jaw clenching in anger. Good. "I wouldn't have guessed, but I do suppose that Darth Bitch has a better ring to it."

"Your imprisonment had nothing to do with me," Dooku growled, "but I'm beginning to wish it did. I could petition to have you set free, of course."

"Oh, how magnanimous of you." He grinned. "Learned that word from a friend of mine. It's too highbrow for me, but for him!" The Kiffar whistled. "Way with words, that one had. Until you killed him..."

"I haven't killed anybody," Dooku drawled, and Quinlan could feel his pulse race, the cuff on his wrist beeping in warning as his heart rate spiked. The Count smirked. "Watch your temper, Quinlan Vos. The Jedi disapprove of such showings of emotion."

"Let me go and I'll show you something the Jedi really wouldn't like."

"What's a Jedi Knight doing on Geonosis? It's very far away from Republic space."

Quinlan shrugged to the best of his abilities, but the containment field was making it difficult. "Hunting your pet. Bounty hunter named Jango Fett, heard of him?"

"Geonosians don't trust bounty hunters. You won't find him here."

"Mm, yes, I will, and that's not what I asked. Have you heard of him?" Quinlan rolled his eyes. "Honestly, if this is what it's like to grow old, you should just kill me now. I don't think I could handle the hearing loss. The fading memory. The impotence..."

"I've never heard of the man."

"No, of course not. If you're forgetting your own name, of course you won't remember that thug."

Dooku smirked, and for a moment, the Kiffar saw something wicked there. "It's a shame you and I haven't crossed paths before. I hear your talents with the Force are...unique. Rarities have always held a great interest to me."

"Oh, is that why you're putting me in a cage? It's an idiot plan, if you want my talents, I need to have my connection to the Force restored. And our paths have crossed. Indirectly. On Dromund Kaas." Quinlan grinned at the older man. "Come now, let me down, I'll show you what I can do."

The Count regarded the Jedi carefully, and for a moment, it looked like Dooku would actually comply. Instead, he slowly drawled, "If you know what I do, you would never go along with what is happening in the Republic."

"And what is that, exactly?"

Dooku paused, and the silence was extremely unnerving to the restless Jedi. He turned his head to keep the Count in his sight. Suddenly, the rotating he had been so grateful for before became highly irritating. "What if I told you," Dooku carefully stated, "that the Republic is under the control of a Dark Lord of the Sith?"

Quinlan scoffed. "I knew that. We all know that. Well, the smart ones do, at least." The Kiffar grinned. "I never claimed to be one of the smart ones, but Obi-Wan Kenobi was, and he told me everything." The Count's face twitched, be it from irritation or nerves, Quinlan didn't know, but regardless, it was good for him. "I know about you, and I know about your Master. You're going to have to try harder if you want to impress me."

"If we join together, we can destroy the Sith." That got Quinlan's attention. His brown eyes shot to the Count, the older man's face hard and impassive and the Kiffar wished he had the ability to reach the Force in that moment, gauge the man's emotions, read his sincerity. Instead, all he could do was narrow his eyes, glaring at the creature that he knew to be Sith as well.

"Isn't that what you Sith do?" he drawled, his voice dripping with contempt. "You destroy each other. It's what you've always done. The Jedi won't even need to lift a finger, you'll run yourselves into extinction all on your own."

Dooku grinned wickedly. "Quinlan Vos. There is...so much anger in you. Give in to it, use it, and you could be so powerful. I can show you how."

Quinlan snarled, pulling against his restraints. "I will never join you! Obi-Wan was my friend, and you murdered him!"

Dooku chuckled. "I didn't murder Obi-Wan Kenobi. He was the architect of his own destruction."

Quinlan's temper quickly faded. Getting angry was pointless when he could do nothing about it. Instead, he smirked at the Sith. "Hey, does your Master use you? I mean, really use you?' The Count sputtered, and the Kiffar laughed loudly. "Oh, I bet he does! Does it hurt? Do you like it? Sith are creatures of passion, you must have a sexual appetite! And, well, he's the Dark Lord of the Sith!" He gasped as the Count reddened slightly, his jaw tight. "Oh, I bet it's huge! His appetite, I mean. Sweet Force, how do you get anything done at all? He must keep you absolutely pinned down!"

"Securing your release," Dooku growled through his tightly clenched teeth, "may be more difficult to arrange than I would have thought." The Kiffar's laughter followed the Count out of the room, silenced only when the heavy door slid shut.

Dooku entered the meeting room to raucous laughter, and he slammed his palm against his forehead. There would be no mercy for him that day.

"Kenobi," he growled, the other Sith's head slamming against the table as he tried to control himself, wiping tears away from his eyes as he sat up. "You are...earlier than I expected."

"Well, you did call." He grinned, shoulders shaking with repressed laughter. "Did you want me to see your...interrogation?" He held up his datapad, and the Count paled. "Oh, don't worry, I recorded it. So every time I'm sad, I can watch that Jedi call you, Dooku, Lord of the Sith, a little bitch!" The laughter began again, worse than before, and Dooku stalked toward him, snarling at the younger man and hitting him on the back of the head as he passed. Kenobi didn't seem to notice.

"How much does that Jedi know?" Dooku asked softly as he sat down at his seat.

"Oh, everything. Quinlan and I were hunting you together, after all. He learned with me."

"He doesn't know you fell."

"No, of course not. I didn't know I fell when I actually fell. I thought it happened much later than it did." He shrugged. "Quinlan knows about everything he told you. You're a Sith, there's a Sith in the Senate, the Sith have changed, blah, blah..." Kenobi glared, tossing a lightsaber in the air and igniting it as he grabbed it, the green blade of the captured Jedi extending. "And now he knows more, thanks to you."

Dooku pointed at the lightsaber. "Where did you get that?" Kenobi just smirked.

"The guards. They wanted to keep it, but Geonosians aren't fit for a weapon such as this, the disgusting things."

"He didn't learn anything from me," the Count snapped. "That Jedi vexed me nearly as much as you, did you spend a great deal of time with him?"

"I did." Kenobi winked at the older Sith. "I learned a great deal from him. And you did tell him something. You told him there is conflict among the Sith, Dooku!" The yellow eyes were wide, concerned, and the Count crossed his arms, stoic and silent. "Did you just proposition a Jedi to help you kill our Master?!"

"It was a tactic, Lumis, you understand those."

"Yeah, a poor one! Sith Hells, this is how you die!" He pointed the green saber at Dooku's face, and the Count drew his own weapon, not igniting it, but ready to. "If our Master so much as suspected that you would betray him, he'd destroy you. You aren't stronger than Sidious. You never will be."

"Not alone."

"Not ever." Kenobi stood, turning the green saber off and clipping it to his belt, and he drew close to Dooku, the Count looking distinctively uncomfortable. "You aren't thinking of betraying the Sith, are you?"

"Never."

"Because..." Kenobi purred, running a long finger down the Count's chest, making the man tremble ever so slightly. "If that were the case, if someone had the idea that betraying us might be a good idea, well...Sidious has ways of bringing those people back into the fold, if they have any use."

"I'm certain that will not be necessary," the Count drawled indifferently, but Kenobi could hear the faint strain in his voice.

"I should hope not." Obi-Wan smirked, his dangerous yellow eyes shining with a sinister light. "It's just so awful when I have to break people. I do enjoy it, mind you, but truly, it's a terrible thing to need to deprive people of their will. They should know who their Master is, I shouldn't need to educate them. All they need to do is submit." He smiled sweetly. "Why did you call me to this dustbin? Did you want to give me a gift? I'll gladly take the Jedi off your hands..."

"Master Vos isn't for you, Kenobi," Dooku growled. "He is to be executed."

"...executed?!"

"For espionage. The war must begin, now that our Master has power in the Senate."

"That isn't going to happen." Dooku glared at the younger Sith.

"And you will stop it?"

"Don't be an idiot, I won't need to. Your Jedi will stop it. You can't just execute Quinlan Vos. The man ran circles around you in your own interrogation, and he'll do likewise in an execution. He's going to get away. Just watch."

"He isn't a gift," Dooku snarled. "I thought you would take longer to get here, this matter should have been settled."

"Hey, you called, I came. It's what you wanted, right?"

"Yes, but in the past, it has been difficult to pry you away from that little whore of yours."

Within the span of a second, Dooku found himself slammed to his knees hard with the power of the Dark Side, the lightsaber flying from his hand and into Kenobi's delicate grip, the saber igniting and pointed dangerously close to the pit of Dooku's throat. The Count tried to move, but the Force held him down, the Dark Side fleeing from his control, drawn to the call of a younger, more powerful Sith. Those golden eyes were glowing in the sinister shadows of his face, and Obi-Wan smiled, an easy, wicked thing to behold.

"Don't," he purred sweetly, "ever talk about my things like that. I can talk about her however I wish, but you..." The tip of the saber pointed just above his throat, and the Count could feel the energy of the plasma burning his skin. "You will refer to her with the utmost respect. Do I make myself clear?"

"...yes." His week away had changed Kenobi, that much was obvious. He had a soft spot for the woman before, but now simple affection had mutated into a vicious possession, the Sith gripping the Mandalorian to him close as if she were some treasured thing that he owned.

"Now," Kenobi purred, holding the glowing red blade with a steady hand, "what do we call her?"

"Satine."

"No, I call her Satine. You don't get to. Come now, you're a lord! Even better, you're nobility. Show some class, some sophistication. Honestly, you're supposed to be civilized."

Dooku's throat was dry, raw, but he dare not swallow to try and wet it; the movement of his neck may bring him in contact with the blade, it was so close to his throat. "Duchess Satine." Kenobi's face relaxed, and Dooku breathed deeply in relief, but as soon as he did, the shadowed claws of the Dark Side dug into his mind, and the Count threw up his mental defenses, only to be met by the overpowering force of Darth Lumis in his open mind. It was too late; Kenobi was in. Dooku's eyes widened in fear as he trembled.

"I've been here before," Kenobi growled. "Don't even try to throw me out. You can't." He smiled brightly. "But by all means, resist me."

Dooku watched as the red blade powered down, the younger Sith tossing it away carelessly. He didn't need a weapon anymore. Glaring up at the blond man, the Count softly growled, "What do you want."

"I want you to keep away from my stuff. My ship, my Jedi, my planet, my woman, my Master."

"Our Master."

"I certainly hope so," he purred, drawing close to the Count, but Dooku could not move away as he leaned down, that handsome face so very close to his own. "The second Darth Sidious stops being our Master and is simply mine, there will be no further use for you. Then you're just a rebellious threat, Tyranus." Kenobi grabbed the Count's chin hard, his painful grip pulling at the hair's of his beard. "And you know what I do to things that threaten our Master. I'm not an enemy you want."

"...you aren't my enemy, Lumis."

"And let's keep it that way, hmm?" The Sith Lord chuckled. "Besides, I've been inside your mind. I'm in it right now. Can you feel me there?"

Dooku shivered, a chill running through him as the Dark Side surged and rolled, the shadowy hand of the Negotiator seeming to drum upon his consciousness, tendrils of darkness seeming to wave in greeting. "Y-yes, Mas-" He shut his mouth, biting his tongue and tasting blood in the process. He hadn't meant to nearly say that. It was expected, of course. Dooku had watched Kenobi do so to others hundreds of times before.

"I could make you say it, you know. But I won't. So long as we understand each other."

"We do."

"Excellent." He stood, releasing his hold and Dooku pitched forward and drew in a deep, grateful breath as he felt Kenobi slip effortlessly out of his mind. He had been wrong before. Obi-Wan hadn't been changed by his week away. He had been changed by the holocron and the fearful powers he had learned from the ancient device. He'd have to take caution in the future when moving against such a creature.

Kenobi sat again in the chair he had occupied before, placing his boots on the table and whistling. "Back to business, then? Why did you need me?"

Dooku carefully regarded the other Sith, reached out to touch at his mind and found it completely unguarded. At that moment, there was no anger, no malice, no irritation. Just calm bemusement. His defenses weren't up, which seriously displeased the Count; Darth Lumis found no threat here. He stood and grabbed a holopad from the table, ran his fingers over the screen to locate the necessary file, and slid the device to the other man, the yellow eyes watching with rapt, silent attention. When the holovid was over a few minutes later, Kenobi sucked in a hard, sharp breath, and played it again. And then once again. Finally, Kenobi pushed the datapad back to Dooku.

"It's a bold move."

"Not the one we were expecting."

"Not in the least." He leaned back and closed his yellow eyes. Certainly, this was not something that his Master had wanted. No, this reeked of a more peaceful faction within the Republic. But he also sensed a trap. Calling to meet with the Negotiator posed certain problems for every party involved. For the Sith, this could undermine the war effort if it didn't end it altogether. For the Confederacy, it set them up to look like villains were they to refuse peace talks, something that Dooku was working hard to avoid. And for the Republic, this could mean the end of them. Were they to capture the Negotiator under the guise of peace talks, it would surely fall apart. However, the Jedi were also certain he was Sith, and they understood the dangers present just by being in a room with him.

"Any ideas?" Kenobi asked softly, and Dooku frowned.

"Our Master is extremely displeased by this. Even he is struggling to find the best solution. He has demanded that it be brought to you. Your talents seem to fit this mess."

Kenobi rolled his eyes. "Of course our Master is at a loss. If he weren't, this matter would have already been solved. His hands are tied, he cannot help us. He said we are on our own, and he meant it. I asked for your ideas, Tyranus. Ancient Gods of the Sith, stop being so dependent."

"I say we send a decoy. They do not know you."

"Who could we possibly send in my place? We don't have anyone smart enough to fit the bill, they'll know in an instant they're dealing with a fake. They will spin that to their advantage."

Dooku laughed loudly. "You are vain."

"And I have earned every second of it, have I not? There is nobody in this room that is stupid." Kenobi shrugged, a smirk on his proud features. "Except for you, of course."

"Focus. What are you going to do about this, Kenobi? You cannot simply ignore this, it's as good as denying them."

"I'm going to have to meet them. On my terms, of course, this game isn't one they play well."

"It's a trap, Obi-Wan."

"Yes, it's a trap, of course it's a trap!" His hand balled into a fist, the golden eyes narrowing in rage. "I don't have a good solution, not yet, I'll have to meditate on this, the Force will guide my way. How long is appropriate to wait to respond?"

"I wouldn't wait more than a few days. If you don't respond by the end of the week, it will look like cowardice."

"Well, we can't have that..." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, reaching out to the Dark Side of the Force and searching for answers, but there were none to be found. The Force was still, unnaturally so, and Kenobi felt the cold chill grip him in warning. "Did you feel it? Last night?" the young Sith asked quietly, and Dooku crossed his arms, scoffing in derision.

"If this is another stupid joke about your wanton displays with your-"

"It isn't, focus. We're being serious right now, Dooku. Last night, the Force trembled. Did you not feel it?"

"The Force has been straining often these days with the power of the Dark Side. This isn't new."

"No, it is. This wasn't a disturbance, this was a storm. Something..." He shook his head, snarling. "I can't place it. I will, in time. The Force has always shown me the way."

"The Jedi in you isn't dead, is he?" Dooku drawled, and Kenobi's angry yellow eyes shot to the other man, but found his features...soft. Nearly compassionate.

"I...admit he's difficult to kill." He shrugged. "If our Master wanted Dark Siders, he would have drawn from outside the Jedi Order. He took us instead. There must have been a reason for that."

"He told me once that a masterpiece could not be crafted from poor materials. The Jedi Knights provide the best foundation." Kenobi nodded, looking away from the Count. "...this Republic plot reeks of Senator Amidala."

"...Padmé?" The golden eyes drifted to Dooku, the Count easy and relaxed, and Obi-Wan took a deep breath. "...that helps my planning. Thank you."

"Careful, Kenobi, or your Duchess will become jealous."

"She won't. She trusts me." He shrugged, smiling. "Besides, I can emotionally manipulate people as I like. I'm faithful in the ways that matter."

"Yes, I'm sure..." Dooku watched the other Sith Lord, his eyes closed, his features relaxed, his defenses down, and the temptation to reach into his mind and look, see what was there. He was just about to do so when Kenobi began to laugh.

"I don't recommend it, Dooku. All that's in here is war, blood and sex. Nothing for an old man."

The Count's eyes narrowed, his mouth twitching as he snarled. "I don't feel you in my mind, how are you-"

"You don't feel me, no." Kenobi smiled warmly. "But I'm there. I'll always be there. We have a connection, you and I." He chuckled when the old man looked away. "It's a one way connection. Apologies."

"I saw your ship today," Dooku eagerly changed the subject. The thought of the younger Sith reading his thoughts was too disturbing to be true. He'd have to test that when there was some distance between them. "It's done."

Kenobi nodded. "I saw when I arrived. It's not as grand as Grievous' Malevolence. My ship doesn't have ion cannons."

"Your ship won't be seeing combat as often as Grievous. He's the general of the army, he will be in the heart of the fighting."

"Are you suggesting I won't fight?"

"I don't need to suggest that, you do it yourself." Kenobi grinned, like he was proud of it.

"I should call my ship Negotiator. Oh! Yes, I like that. Can you put that through for me?"

"Do I look like your errand boy?" Obi-Wan grinned, and before he could answer, Dooku quickly waived that away. "Please, don't answer that. What are your plans for the war then? You have stated your...objection for droids."

"I want an organic crew. Maybe I'll see if I can't dominate a clone battalion. That will cause some real confusion. And a rancor!" Dooku rolled his eyes, but the man was insistent. "Tyranus, really. I want a rancor. I can break a Jedi Master, I can certainly break a beast."

"A mindless beast."

"It's easier to break! Think of the havoc I could cause with one of those! Or two!"

"To both sides." Kenobi shrugged.

"So what, there are only droids on our side."

"They're expensive..."

"We have all the money in the galaxy."

"Wars are expensive!"

Obi-Wan groaned in frustration. "You make this very difficult. I want a ship full of organics and the most fearsome beasts in the galaxy. Can it be done?"

"Yes...but the beasts you will have to secure yourself."

"Can do." Kenobi smiled, his fingers tapping on the table as Dooku rolled his eyes and answered the com that began to beep. The chittering speech of the Geonosian could be heard on the other side, but it was too fast for the young Sith to pick up. He had only recently begun to learn the language, but he wasn't serious about it. Humans couldn't speak it, only understand, and he saw little point in understanding primitives. After all, like anything, they obeyed his commands.

Dooku swiftly cut the com, picked up his datapad, and accessed the security system. After reviewing it silently for a few minutes, he stood, came to Obi-Wan's side, and handed the Sith the datapad, the security footage on the screen. Kenobi's golden eyes widened, and for the first time in a very, very long time, the Negotiator was speechless.

"It's your lucky day, Obi-Wan," Dooku purred, the two Jedi and a young woman with a blaster fighting through the droid foundries. "Your Master is here."