From Darkness, I Rise

by Kurenaino

The Jedi are thrust into a war that threatens to tear the galaxy apart, and prospects are bleak when the fearsome Sith Negotiator begins to win key victories against the Republic. Sequel to From Grace, I Fall. Also, more Sith!Obi keeps the sadness away. Search your feelings. You know it to be true.

72. Happy Hour

Chapter 72: Happy Hour

"No!" He said it far more forcefully than he had intended, his voice much higher than usual in strained panic. Realizing how his careful composure had been lost, he cleared his throat and looked back in to the smirking face, those eerie golden eyes seeming to glow in amusement. Dealing with this man was bad business. "No, no, no, no, no..." he said again, much calmer this time and with a chuckle in his voice. "I remember the last time I did business with you!"

Kenobi laid his hand over his chest and feigned great offense. "Hondo, you wound me! And I thought we got along so well last time!"

"Oh, we did, we did," the Weequay pirate said, crossing his arms and nodding. "And then you lied to me!" he cried dramatically, counting off on his fingers. "Twice! You stole two valuable prisoners from me, you reject my hospitality by breaking out of your cell, and you and your friend drank nearly my entire reserve!" Obi-Wan smiled brightly at the flustered man and was just about to respond when the pirate gestured wildly across the expanse of the dusty outdoor compound to a heap of scrap and metal that had once been a building, the dull metallic sheets rusty and worn by wind blown sands. "And if all that wasn't enough," the pirate cried, "you tore down my home!"

"You built a new one!" Kenobi said, pointing to the opposite side of the compound where a large, sprawling network of smaller buildings joined with a grand hallway stood. "And look how lovely it is! It's much better than your old one!"

"It was expensive!" Hondo said, putting emphasis each syllable as if it would help the man understand how important, how grave that matter was. Not that he had paid for it, but it would have been expensive. It was certainly a costly loss for the people he stole it from. "You are bad for business!"

"I admit I don't take well to being a hostage," Kenobi said softly. "But I could also be very good for business. You're a smart man, Hondo, I take it you've done your research on me after my last...social visit."

Hondo visibly pouted, and Kenobi's smirk grew wider. He had done his research. "What is it you want, Negotiator?"

"As you know, I am very well connected within the Separatist Alliance, and I have ties to the Intergalactic Banking Clan and the Count of Serenno." He grinned. "I'm sure you remember him."

"You would find me less friendly if I didn't know about your connections," the pirate said, and the wicked gleaming in the Weequay's eyes belied a deep, consuming greed. If Kenobi hadn't been connected to some of the wealthiest people in the galaxy, they wouldn't be having this conversation. As always, Hondo Ohnaka was putting on a show.

"I don't like doing business outside, shall we go in to talk?" Obi-Wan flashed the pirate a wicked grin. "I do appreciate doing business over drinks, after all." While the pirate softly grumbled, Obi-Wan looked over to where the Umbra was parked, the boarding ramp extended and Yoda sitting and blocking its entrance. Cody stood beside him, a hand on the rancor's flank and a blaster rifle held loosely in his hand, cautiously eying the pirates that came to gawk at the ship, and scattering away when the beast decided they had gotten too close and growled. Kenobi closed his eyes and sent his satisfaction through the Force to Yoda, and the creature tilted his head back and barked at the feel of his Master. The ship would be safe.

Hondo indicated with his hand that Kenobi should follow him, and they made their way toward the pirate's new compound. "I've heard rumors about you," the pirate said, his voice curious and amused and not at all afraid. "Strange things. Interesting things."

"I'm sure they were," Kenobi said, smirking as they walked past groups of pirates that shot warning glances at him, their hands threatening raising their weapons. It seemed the entire pirate band knew who he was. His last visit hadn't been exactly subtle, but he blamed the Jedi for that. "But I dislike people outside my circle knowing the truth about me. I find that rumors keep people open to negotiation."

Hondo frowned as he looked back at the rancor in the yard. This man spoke like some of the best criminals and con men Hondo had the pleasure and displeasure of knowing. He had spoken like an amicable negotiator, but the actual meaning was clear as day. Rumors kept people afraid, and fear got him what he wanted. After all, this was the man that had culled the Hutts. The Hutts! If the likes of Gardula and Jabba were unwilling to tangle with this fearsome young Sith Lord, than this was a man best not crossed. Besides, the Negotiator was well connected, and if Hondo were lucky enough to have this man come to him, he may be able to get his hands into some of the deepest pockets in the galaxy.

They walked into the long hall and he grabbed a bottle from a nearby pirate just as he was about to crack it open. The man had wanted to drink, and Hondo had remembered that the Sith had been able to throw back a fair amount, but got drunk quickly. Alcohol may loosen his tongue. He grabbed two glasses from a table and brought them to his place at the back of the hall, broke the bottle open on the edge of the hard wood, and poured two liberal glasses, sliding one across the table into the blond human's waiting grasp. "So, Sith Lord," Hondo started, looking at those golden eyes light up with delight as he drank. "What brings you to me?"

Obi-Wan quickly drained the glass and pushed it back to the pirate, a shocked but pleased look on the Weequay's face as he filled it again. "Two fugitives are on the run. I need them captured."

Hondo laughed loudly, shaking his head and taking a long swig of his drink. "You need a bounty hunter!" he cried, voice filled with laughter as he watched the Sith's finger circle the rim of the glass. "We are pirates! What is it you think we do?"

"I think you do whatever you can for money, and I'm offering quite a bit." That got the pirate's attention, and Kenobi smirked slightly as Hondo brought the glass to his lips in an attempt to hide his interest. As Hondo said, a bounty hunter would be better suited for the task, and he had considered using Cad Bane, one of Dooku's favorites, or a young promising prospective by the name of Bobba Fett, an unaltered clone copy of Jengo Fett, the clone army's template. He had dismissed both ideas. Bounty hunters could be bought and sold, and young Bobba was said to be something of a loose cannon, a weapon still in need of tempering. Besides, he wanted to find Maul again, and an army of relentless bounty hunters could send him and his brother to ground to quietly gather power, and that was the last thing he wanted. No, what he needed was information.

"How much are we talking here?" Hondo ventured, and Kenobi made a show of contemplating the price.

"I have in my personal accounts upwards of a million credits." He was lying. He had far more than that in accounts that Sidious had him set up, mostly investments in holdings formerly run by Darth Plagueis, but the pirate's eyes widened anyway. "But my wealth doesn't rest in credits."

"Oh, my friend, I very much disagree," Hondo said as he refilled Kenobi's half empty glass. "I'm sorry, you said you were a Sith Lord?"

"I never said so," Kenobi said, drinking from his glass again as the pirate did.

"But you are one, yes? That makes you a Lord, does it not? A very wealthy Lord! Lord...something."

"Lumis," he drawled, amused. "If it pleases you."

"Oh, it does, it does!" Hondo leaned in, pushing Kenobi's glass closer to him to prompt him to drink, which he did. "And what makes you think we can capture these fugitives?"

Kenobi shrugged. "You captured a Sith Lord."

"Two Sith Lords!" the pirate cried proudly.

"Ah, no," Obi-Wan gently reprimanded. "I allowed my capture, but you actually captured Count Dooku, and that I am very impressed with. That takes a certain type of luck and quick thinking that I find very rare."

"Yes, well," Hondo leaned back in his seat, glass in hand and feet on the table as he boasted. "What can I say? My men are the best. And yours truly didn't get to where he is by being a fool."

"Certainly not."

Hondo suddenly leaned in, his hands steepled as he looked Kenobi over. "And I remember how badly that particular business deal went for me. I was rewarded with three escaped guests, a depleted reserve, a crushed compound and a headache. Not to mention that Dooku and his Separatist fleet began hunting my ships! We had to flee the system for some time!"

Kenobi drummed his fingers on the table, watching as Hondo filled his glass again and downed the whole thing. He liked this pirate. He was a shrewd businessman, and he knew this game well. At the heart of him, he wanted money. This was an act to get him to raise his price, since the pirate knew he was independently wealthy and well connected. He closed his eyes, breathing deep and using the Force to purge himself of the effects of the alcohol as he began to feel inebriated. He needed to keep a clear mind with Hondo, and it would serve him well if the pirate believed he was manipulating the Sith by making him more agreeable in his intoxication. After all, Kenobi had been drunk enough to fake it well. He could never handle the stuff, but everyone around him certainly could.

"Allow me to make you an offer, then," he said, elbows on the table and leaning in toward the Weequay. "So long as you are in my service, I will personally protect this system from Confederate forces. You have my word that they will come nowhere near you. That whole mess with Dooku we can simply put behind us."

Hondo nodded, stroking his chin as if in thought, and leaned in. "I am still reluctant to tangle with Sith Lords again. You understand."

"Ten thousand credits for each piece of relevant information you bring me regarding my fugitives."

"Done!" the pirate cried, reaching over and vigorously shaking the Sith's hand. "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful partnership." He looked over his shoulder and swiftly called out for more drinks before returning his attention to Kenobi. "Now, that is just for information, yes?" he asked. "We don't need to capture these men?"

"Just for information. And if you somehow manage to capture them as well, I'll increase the payment tenfold." Kenobi grinned. "Per captive."

Obi-Wan quietly sipped at his drink as Hondo choked, coughing and sputtering at the outrageous figure before he retained composure and leaned in toward the slightly swaying Sith as he held out his glass. Hondo diligently filled it. "What's the catch?" he asked carefully, and Kenobi shrugged.

"No catch. You're looking for two brothers, Zabrak Nightbrothers, to be precise." He fished through his robes and pulled out his datapad, fumbling with it for a moment before he brought up images of Maul and Savage. "Force sensitive, both of them."

"Ah ha!" the pirate cried, pointing a finger in Kenobi's face, and the Sith lazily swatted it away. "I knew it! There's always a catch!"

"Oh, please, this from the man that captured a Sith Lord?" He leaned in, a carefree smile on his face. "Two Sith Lords, and a Jedi Master. I'm not even asking you to capture them. I just want to know if you see them, and if you do..." He shrugged. "Tell me where and when and what they were doing. Your pirates are all over the place. Just keep your ears open and let me know." He threw his hands into the air. "That's all!"

Hondo considered this, stroking his chin and carefully watching the Sith Lord down another glass, swaying in his seat and eyes struggling to focus. "And we still get the money?"

"Oh yes," Obi-Wan slurred. Hondo kept his eyes locked on the Sith Lord's face and filled up his glass. There were rumors about this man. Dangerous rumors, and doing business could end up being very lucrative or very, very bad for business. He needed to know the risks going in, and the Sith had clearly dropped his guard.

"Why bother making deals, hmm?" the pirate asked, leaning in and lowering his voice. Kenobi leaned in as well. "I hear that you can control minds. Why bother paying me when you can just take what you want?"

The Sith was quiet for a moment, looking off to the side and staring into nothing at all, and Hondo thought he hadn't heard him. He took a deep breath, started to repeat himself, but the Sith quickly cut in with, "I heard you." The pirate held his breath when he saw those golden eyes sharp with focus, and realized that the man had been playing the same game of deception he was. "The truth is," Lumis began, "is that I could just control your mind, command you to do as I ask. I could make you so afraid of me, so completely petrified of what I would do to you and your pirate empire, that you would do anything I asked you to do just so I would leave you in peace."

"I knew I didn't like you Sith Lords," the pirate grumbled, but Kenobi just smiled.

"As much as I enjoy keeping slaves, they don't make for great informants." He waved his hand carelessly in the air. "In order to break them to my will, they can't have a will of their own, you see, and I appreciate a streak of independence and intelligence. Which you have."

Still cautious, but slowly beginning to relax, Hondo proudly said, "Well, you don't survive long in the Outer Rim by being stupid."

"I agree." He leaned forward, hands clasped tightly on the table, and the pirate looked at the two empty bottles on the table. The Sith looked clear headed, despite having drunk most of it. He had either improved greatly in his ability to hold his liquor since he saw him last, or his men had stupidly ruined the batch. Again. "You see, Hondo, I collect allies, which I very much hope we can be. The Ohnaka Gang is extensive and very well connected in parts of the galaxy that I don't have resources in." He leaven in closer, a long finger on the table and his gaze intense. "That is where my fugitives will be hiding, and that's why I need you."

"And..." Hondo began, pushing his glass to the side. "You won't be using any of your...magic tricks, will you?"

"This is a mutually beneficial arrangement, Hondo, I only use my...tricks when I need to motivate someone against their morals, but your motivation is simple. I can pay you better than anyone in the galaxy if you make it worth my time, and I don't believe you're the sort to respond well to fear." Besides, he had drilled fear into the other crime syndicates by taking on the Hutts. They may have done as he asked, but it was just as likely that they would set him up, lead him into a trap simply so they could dispose of him, and if they knew there was a possible threat running around, they may be more inclined to sit on their hands and do nothing. Fear only went so far. It was a fantastic tool in the short term, but loyalty was forever, if treated properly.

Hondo thought about it for a long while, and Obi-Wan could see his clever mind turning, looking for a way to make the situation better, seeing how it could go wrong, and eventually, the pirate nodded and extended his hand. "Very well. Consider ourselves...partners."

With a grin, Kenobi took the Weequay's hand and shook it. "Think we should celebrate our new friendship? I've always found that getting absolutely trashed is as good a way as any to cement an alliance." He shrugged. "Provided that there aren't any hostages this time." Kenobi smiled brightly at the pirate. "And I promise not to use the Force to purge the effects of the alcohol this time. It would make our drinking contest so unfair for you."

Hondo stared at the Sith Lord, jaw slack, before he began laughing, ordering his men to roll out the kegs in celebration. He liked this Sith Lord. He was good business.

---

Asajj Ventress sat in a bar on Coruscant's Level 1313, so named because it was one thousand, three hundred and thirteen levels from the planet's core. It was dark, filthy, and part of an expansive criminal underworld. It was a haven for bounty hunters, members of crime syndicates, and all the wretched scum the galactic hub had to offer. Around every corner, there was a new collection of spice addicts, dealers hawking the newest mixes of Death Sticks, all manner of species soliciting carnal pleasures from scantily clad unfortunates in darkened alleys, crimes being committed, and not a single person stopped to look twice. It was lawless here, and Asajj fit right in.

After...after it happened, she had been lost. She had nowhere to go, nothing to do with her life, and all Talzin had told her was that a chapter of her life had been over, and it was time to begin a new one. And then she was gone, fading into green mist on the air, and Ventress was alone. She had always been alone, of course. Getting close to people just resulted in pain, and she never, ever learned. First was her Master, the man the Nightsisters had given her to. He was kind, for a slave master, and Ventress had been young. And then he was dead. Then there was the Jedi Master, Ky Narec, who had taught her the ways of the Force, had taken her as his Padawan, was like a father to her. He had died too. It was Dooku after that, who showed her the power of the Dark Side, had wanted an apprentice as filled with rage and hate as he was, and she had wanted a Master to make her strong. It was a good match. Until it wasn't. Until she had been betrayed. And then there was Kenobi...

She threw back her drink and demanded another, which was swiftly delivered. She wasn't drunk yet, but she would be soon enough. In the depths of her darkness, Obi-Wan had been a constant friend and companion, a teacher and an enabler. He quickly took a liking to her, but made certain she knew he was stronger, made her feel part of the family, but never Sith like Dooku had promised. Dooku had told her they would destroy his Sith Master and rule the galaxy together. Obi-Wan assured her that it would never be the case. He was a Lord, and she was beneath him, but even so, he had been her closest and most cherished friend. He shielded her from Dooku, even though she may have deserved his wrath, and all because the Sith Lord Lumis had laid claim to her, not as an apprentice, but as siblings bound in the Dark Side.

Kenobi wasn't like the other Sith. He wasn't constantly darkness and wrath and anger as she so often was, wasn't consumed and controlled by the Dark Side as she came to be. He embraced passion, deep and unrelenting and in all its forms, from the deepest pain to the highest joy, from physical torment to sexual pleasure, he reveled and embraced it all. Dooku was cold, heartless and brimming with hatred, but Obi-Wan took the Dark Side in hand and gleefully ran with it and with him came reckless abandon and such joy, such a delight in his every action, cruel or compassionate, that it was infectious. He was made free by the Dark Side, a raging tempest that did what he wanted when he wanted to do it, and there were very few that could stop him.

With deeply felt emotions that ran through him came compassion and understanding and love for things he cared about, all things carried over from his life as a Jedi that was re-purposed to Sith goals to terrifying effect, but for Asajj, it just made him easy to talk to, terribly charismatic, frightfully persuasive and unquestionably alluring. Kenobi drew people to him, inspired loyalty and belief in the things he believed in, which not only made him subversive and dangerous, but it also made him so very easy to trust and befriend. Obi-Wan was her friend, her companion, her protector and her teacher, and despite his overwhelming power, he had never frightened her.

And then there was Dathomir.

It was the beginning of the end when she had gone to kill Dooku on Serenno the second time. She had seen the other side of Obi-Wan then. She had seen the Sith Darth Lumis emerge on several occasions, but she had never felt it. Not until he had turned on her. Not until she was standing opposite him in a real fight and saw those golden eyes glow not in infinite passion and delight, but in cold, focused rage, a hatred and anger so deep and consuming it was like looking into the Dark Side itself. This was not her friend. This was a monster that was driven by singular rage, his presence in the Force blinding in its magnificence and burning with the promise of burning all he touched into ash. Kenobi had been her friend, and she had betrayed him and turned the wrath of Darth Lumis upon her.

He had been right on Dathomir. She should have gone to him after Dooku betrayed her. She should have run to her friend who would have protected her instead of to her sisters who could not, and by choosing the Nightsisters over the Sith, she had doomed her entire clan, her entire planet. The Sith revenge was consuming and absolute, and Darth Lumis, reeling from her betrayal, had led the charge. She was only alive because he allowed it, because she ran when he commanded it, because she abandoned her sisters to die so that she may save herself. At first, she had thought it a mercy that Lumis had allowed her to live, and it wasn't until the shock had worn off that she realized how far from the truth that was. Lumis didn't seek revenge in death. He sought revenge in life, by allowing her to live in the knowledge that the massacre of her entire planet was her doing. All the blood of her sisters on her hands because she had dared to cross the Sith.

Revenge didn't cross her mind. After her second failure to exact revenge on Dooku, she had committed herself to the Nightsisters, resolved herself to starting a new life, had allowed Talzin to purify her withered, consumed spirit, and she turned her back on the Dark Side. It was no easy feat, but she had done it. Standing on the brink of darkness, endless in it's power, consuming in its wrath, she had managed to walk away, something she knew that very few had ever done. She would seek no more revenge against Dooku. She was no stranger to the Dark Side, but no longer would it consume her, no longer would she embrace it. It was simply a tool she would impassively use, and put it away when its purpose had concluded. But the Sith weren't done with her. The Sith were never done...

"Do you truly believe you can escape the Dark Side, Asajj?" she muttered into her glass. Obi-Wan had said it to her when she had told him that she had broken free, that she had turned away from the darkness, and had, perhaps foolishly, tried to take him with her. But there was no turning back for Obi-Wan Kenobi. He was still her friend, as painful as it was, her constant tether to the Dark Side, and she slowly came to realize that Kenobi was much like the dealers on Level 1313, and under the Sith, she had been the fool that clung to him gratefully as he gleefully drugged her and encouraged her addiction. He had warned her about diving too deep into darkness, about seeking to control that which was the Sith's domain, but her obsession was too complete, and the power afforded to her was never enough. It had consumed her once. It would never again. She couldn't even find it within herself to hate Obi-Wan. He had been betrayed, and like she had done with Dooku, he sought revenge against her. It was paid back a thousand fold, but Ventress couldn't find it within her to hate him. Someone had to break the cycle, and it wasn't going to be the Sith. She turned away, and never looked back.

For a month, she had wandered aimlessly and found her way into Hutt Space, and quickly found work as a bounty hunter. She was good at it, and it paid well, and jobs kept her in drinking money. She drank herself into oblivion more often than she intended, and this was shaping up to be one of those nights. She had returned from a particularly difficult contract with resounding success, managed to get paid double the price for a job particularly well done, and to celebrate, she went right to her base of operations in the bar on 1313. There were always contracts there, always bounty hunters blowing off steam after completed contracts, and nobody paid attention to another sullen drunk. Better yet, there were no authorities, no law, and no Jedi. Down here, she was hidden. Down here, she was safe, perhaps the only place in the entire galaxy that was safe. Coruscant was the one place Obi-Wan could never go.

Ventress ran a hand over her head and looked down into her empty glass. She tried not to think of her sisters often, but it was difficult not to. She felt rage build up inside her every time she did, and while it was a useful thing to be able to call darkness to her so quickly, it was useless when she was drunk and alone. If needed, she could use the memory to give her a way to tap the Dark Side, brushing it, but not embracing it, boosting her already considerable power in particularly tight spots, but letting it go afterwards. It was the only way to approach the Dark Side. With extreme reservation and caution. Embracing it would quickly lead down a path of destruction.

She was about to get up to leave when a loud, slurred voice called out to her, "Hey! I know you!" She growled. Another drunk, either some idiot bounty hunter looking for payback after she stole their bounty, or some fool looking for a bedmate. She got both with equal frequency, and she was not in the mood for it tonight. She turned, her face in a bitter scowl before her pale blue eyes widened in surprise. He didn't look like much, but she knew him. This was a Jedi. Obi-Wan's friend. Quinlan Vos.

Panic immediately gripped her. She was among the Jedi's most wanted, a Dark Side practitioner serving the Sith with ruthless abandon. She had won several battles, killed thousands of people, executed many Jedi in her service to Dooku, and it made Asajj Ventress one of the most dangerous women in the galaxy. Avoiding the Jedi had been a constant concern, but if they tracked her here, there may have been nowhere to run, and if the bounty hunters in the bar saw her being hunted by a Jedi, than she became a liability to the lawlessness of 1313. It would make her a target among murderers and thieves as well as among the Jedi, the Sith, the Republic, and the Confederacy. She'd have nowhere left to go.

She quickly rose from her seat, averting her eyes and starting out the bar, but a quick glance over her shoulder gave her a better look at the Jedi she was trying to avoid. There was no mistaking him. This was Quinlan Vos. Obi-Wan's friend. She had fought him early in the war, and the Jedi was good, a rare talent, but the contest between them hadn't been decided, since Obi-Wan had shown up and stopped the fight. Narrowing her eyes, she looked him over carefully, the beginnings of her intoxication fading away before her focus. He wasn't dressed like a Jedi, and it looked like he had just come out of a fight with a rancor. His thick, dark hair was disheveled, he was covered in dirt stains and scratches, and the dark brown eyes above the gold band tattoo across his face were hazy and unfocused as he pushed to stand in front if her and swayed on unsteady feet. He was drunk. Not even a little bit, he was absolutely, throughly sloshed, and he smelled as if he had been soaked in it. Obi-Wan often spoke of the debauched life that Vos had gleefully taken part in, and if even half of that was true, he must have drank a bar out of their entire supply to get this intoxicated.

An amused smirk slid across her face. If he was here to apprehend her, he wasn't doing a good job of it, and she could feel no hostility and no judgement from him. No, this Jedi seemed...happy to see her, almost excited by this chance encounter, and he looked at her like she was exactly what he had needed. Ventress had endured that look from men before, mostly to her vast irritation, but occasionally, if they caught her interest, she'd indulge them, and herself if she was so inclined. She was no stranger to physical pleasure, though she didn't partake often, and never twice with the same partner. She had learned the pain that attachment caused. She would not fall victim again.

But this Jedi did interest her, and not just because Kenobi still considered them close. Any Jedi that wound up hopelessly drunk on 1313 was worth her attention. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared at him. "What do you want, idiot?"

Quinlan opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself, swaying on his feet as he glanced down. The room was swimming. The floor was moving. Everything was hazy. He forgot what he was going to say. Instead a thick, lazy smile slid across his face and he slurred, "You promised me a date, and you never showed up!"

Ventress rolled her eyes. She had forgotten about that. The flirtatious Jedi had not been shy about propositioning her in the middle of their fight back on Christophsis, and while it enraged her at the time, made her believe that he was, in fact, just an idiot, it amused her now. "Is that what you want?" she asked, her eyes lowered and she laid a delicate, promising hand on his chest, and the Jedi groaned. Frowning, Ventress pushed him back, and he stumbled, but caught himself before he fell. "Well, you can forget it," she growled.

"No," he mumbled, shuffling towards her again and reaching out to grab her wrist, his unsteady hand missing by several feet, and Ventress looked at him with disgust. "No, I need help," he said thickly, loudly, though nobody seemed to notice. "I need help with murder. I'm going to kill Count Dooku." This time, the bar fell nearly silent, and Ventress could feel a hundred eyes on them as countless bounty hunters looked at them in fear and disbelief and greed. A bounty on Count Dooku had existed once, a long time ago before the war. Millions of credits for the life of the former Jedi had attracted the attention of several particularly tenacious bounty hunters, and it had ended when the gruesome pieces of those hunters had been found scattered across various bounty hunter holdouts throughout the galaxy, along with a holorecording of the supernatural terror they had endured as they were killed. An entire crime syndicate on Nar Shaddaa, the ones that, supposedly, had posted the bounty, had turned up brutally executed as well, and in place of the bounty came a counteroffer, half a million credits to anyone who brought in a fellow hunter or anyone that talked seriously about assassinating the Count.

She wasn't sure if they still remembered, or if this offer was even still in place, but she suspected it was. There was a reason that Dooku, with all the pain he had caused, didn't have several contracts taken out on him. She threw her head back and laughed loudly and grabbed the Kiffar by the arm hard. "Oh, baby, you have been indulging in Death Sticks again, haven't you," she said loudly, loud enough for everyone to hear, and she was grateful that the man didn't look like a Jedi in his severe inebriation. "I keep telling you, that sleemo brother of yours isn't Dooku!" That seemed to settle it. The patrons slowly went back to their drinks, but a few kept a cautious, watchful eye on the pair. Tightening her grip around his arm, she slapped a few credits onto the bar and dragged the Jedi to the back and down a long corridor, the hall lined with cheap rooms to house those who could afford it who needed a room quickly. Drug deals, quick, brutal rutting, hopeless drunkards and murders were common back here, and Ventress had used the rooms on occasion when she felt she couldn't make it safely back to her ship. She occasionally brought...partners back with her as well, but never like this.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" she hissed, and the Jedi just shook his head.

"No, no, I don't want to be killed. I want to kill-"

"Shut up!" she unlocked the door and pushed Vos inside, the man stumbling and then falling on the small, creaky sleeping palette in the corner. She slammed her fist on the button on the wall to no effect, and with a snarl of aggravation, she reached out with the Force to slam the door shut herself. The rooms were in disrepair. She couldn't expect the crude mechanisms of the doors to work properly when a drunken patron would simply break it again the next week.

"I want-"

"I don't want to hear it, idiot!" she growled, hand extended, and the Jedi's lightsaber flew to her hand. She ignited it, pointed it at his throat, and he looked at her completely unafraid, though his hazy eyes began to clear a bit. He was beginning to purge himself of the intoxication. Finally. "If I were hostile, you would be dead right now," she snarled, shutting the saber off and throwing it back at him. He fumbled, but he did manage to catch it. "Tell me, what is a Jedi even doing down here? Why would a Jedi even do this?!" she asked forcefully, pointing an accusing finger at him. Vos was silent for a moment, and he looked away, and Ventress could feel herself soften a bit as she felt his struggle.

"There's something I have to do," he said slowly, his words still slurred, but not nearly as much. "I've tried and tried, but I can't."

"That something being killing Dooku?" she asked, and to her surprise, the Jedi shook his head, but didn't elaborate.

"We heard you were dead," he said softly, looking up at her with deep brown eyes filled with...no. She looked away from him. He was compassionate, sympathetic, the deep feelings intensified by his intoxication, and she would have none of it. She was alone. She was alone. And it was for the best.

"I'm not easy to kill," she rasped softly, sadly, and she could feel his presence in the Force reaching out to her. She pushed it away.

"We only found out you were alive a few weeks ago, and apparently not working for Dooku anymore." She saw him grin out of the corner of her eye. He was still drunk, but at least now he was functional. "Tell me, what is a former Sith doing working as a bounty hunter."

She grit her teeth in rage, her hand balling into a fist. "I'm not Sith," she growled dangerously, and the Jedi put his hands up, chuckling lightly. "I never was, and don't you dare call me that. And you'd do well to mind your business down here, Jedi, people get killed here for asking the wrong questions."

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry!" There was something different about Asajj Ventress. She was angry, yes, dangerous, most certainly, but she was also...something. Vos couldn't place it, but when he looked at her, she seemed almost a different person from before, and certainly a great deal different from Obi-Wan. He couldn't sense the oppressive darkness within her, as he had come to expect from those that plunged into the Dark Side. Obi-Wan's words echoed in his mind, that soft, accented drawl telling him in no uncertain terms that there was no coming back from the Dark Side once it had been embraced, and yet, here was Asajj Ventress, former Sith apprentice and enemy of the Jedi, and she felt...human. Quinlan couldn't help but smile. It could be that Kenobi was wrong. She had turned away, and if she could do it, so could he. After his mission, of course. Assassination was not the way of the Jedi.

"You said you wanted to kill Dooku," she said suddenly, and he focused on her. She was almost removed from the idea, more amused and curious than angry or interested. "I can't say my former Master doesn't deserve it, but that isn't a very Jedi thing to want, is it?"

"You're right, it isn't."

She smirked. "Kenobi always said you were a bit unconventional. Your Council can't possibly approve of this."

"I'm on the Council." Vos grinned when her eyes widened. "We're talking about it. This war is endless, and Dooku's the key. If something isn't done about him..." He growled and ran a hand through his thick hair. "I don't know. He's caused pain and suffering everywhere he goes. So yes, I want Dooku dead. He needs to die."

"I don't think you fully understand what will be required to accomplish that."

"I do," the Jedi said grimly. "Obi-Wan told me." They stared at each other for a long while, saying nothing. She felt it then. She felt the darkness within Quinlan Vos, deep and eager, but still so young, so inexperienced, so fragile. This wasn't the consuming darkness of the Sith, this was the touch of one who flirted the Dark Side, but did not embrace it. Like her. With a push, he could become strong, drawing ever closer to its powerful grip, but remaining just out of reach. He was a Jedi Master, with a strong, steady command of the Force, and that was no small thing. When they had fought before, they had been equally matched, and she had been using the Dark Side to fuel her. Were Quinlan Vos to put the wrath of darkness behind him, maybe he could take the Sith...

Ventress shook her head of the thought. There was no defeating the Sith. All attempts led to ruin. "What did Kenobi tell you?" she asked quietly, and the Jedi shivered, clutching his arms tightly against him and the sudden chill he felt.

"He said I'd need to use the Dark Side. H-he said I'd need to kill someone with it if I ever wanted to be strong enough to kill Dooku."

"He's right." What was Kenobi planning? It made little sense to her. He had been clear on his stance. He would stand beside the Sith, would defend Dooku as his Dark Side brother, and he would destroy those that attempted to raise a hand against them. So why mobilize a Jedi against the Count, and not just any Jedi, but a man he claimed to be his best friend? Quinlan held his hands out, and Ventress looked at them as they shook.

"I tried to do it," he said softly. "I tried so many times, but I can't do it. I can't. But Dooku needs to die, he needs to!" He pit his lip and looked away, his hands clutching his knees so tightly his knuckles turned white. "I know that if I go now, I may hesitate when I need conviction. I-I've never murdered anything before..."

"Your heart is soft, Jedi," Ventress said, though not unkindly. "You're going to have to harden that heart of yours if you mean to do this thing." He nodded. "I wish you the best of luck," she said, turning on him and beginning to pry the door open, but the Kiffar jumped up, shooting his hand out to wrap it around her wrist.

"Wait, please!" he said frantically. "I need help to do this, Obi-Wan said as much!"

"Then get Obi-Wan to help you."

"He won't. And I can't," he said firmly, leaving no room for question. "Obi-Wan said he'll protect Dooku. He said he'd teach me how to do it, how to...touch the Dark Side to bring myself to murder, but-"

Ventress laughed loudly and patted the hand wrapped tightly around her wrist. "It seems to me you have everything you need, then. There is no better teacher in the use of the Dark Side than Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"I can't go back to him," Vos said morosely. "I know what he's trying to do. It's no secret that he's trying to make me fall with him." The Jedi's chest swelled with resolve. "I won't do it. I can't do it. I'm a Jedi, and maybe I'm not a very good one, but I owe so much to the Order. If Obi-Wan teaches me, he'll take me by the hand and walk me down the path to darkness. But you..."

Ventress felt her stomach tighten when the Jedi clasped her hand between his, her other hand still wrapped tightly around his wrist, and looked at her with eyes that were far too trusting. "Oh, no, no, no..."

"You could teach me!" he cried, impervious to her reluctance and holding her hand tightly when she tried to pull away. "You turned away from the Dark Side, haven't you? I can feel it!"

"Let go of my hand, idiot!"

"You could show me how to tap into it and get the power I need to kill Dooku and then be done with it! If you aren't his apprentice anymore, than something must have happened to turn you away!"

"He tried to kill me, that's what happened!" she snarled, trying to pry his fingers off her, but to no avail.

"Then you have more reason than most to want him dead! Help me! Help me get the strength I need to kill him, and we can get your revenge together!"

"No." She had snapped, louder than intended, and much, much colder, and the Jedi froze, and slowly let go of her hand, crestfallen as he looked at the ground. "No," she repeated again, much softer this time. "I tried to get my revenge on him twice, and both times, I failed, and I have paid dearly for it. You are right. I did turn from the Dark Side, but I almost didn't make it. I don't want revenge anymore. It would be nice to see him dead, but I can't lose myself down that path again, or I won't come back."

"So..." Vos said slowly. "You won't help me?"

She shook her head. "You didn't come here for my help. You're asking me for this on a whim. You haven't thought this through."

"I've been thinking of nothing else for over a month," he said, his voice deeper and darker than before, and Ventress could feel the strong threads of the Dark Side coursing through him. Kenobi had been right about his friend. He walked the line, and had for years. She could see it in him. "But...I keep failing. I'm here because..." He groaned, rubbing the back of his head and looking sheepishly at the woman. "I keep trying to bring myself to kill, I know I must, but I can't do it." He laughed nervously. "It's failure, and it's weakness, and I hate myself for it, so-"

"So you come here to forget," Ventress concluded for him, and the Jedi nodded. The reasons were different, but at the heart of it all, she and this Quinlan were doing the same thing. She drank to forget her sisters. He drank to forget all the innocent that died every day the Count still lived. She saw his problem clearly. To kill Dooku, he would have to dig deep of the Dark Side, but the one who would teach him aimed for his fall, not the death of the Sith Lord, and this was certainly not something he could do on his own. Ventress sought no further revenge, but she would be pleased to see Dooku dead, and if anyone could accomplish this, it would be someone that Kenobi was reluctant to kill, and she could think of nobody he spoke of more fondly than Quinlan Vos...

"Alright," she said softly, and those big brown eyes turned up to meet her, a small, shy, sweet smile on his face, and Asajj Ventress felt her pulse quicken. "I'll help you. I can show you the way of the Dark Side. Safely." He nodded vigorously, opened his mouth to speak, but Ventress laid a long finger on his lips. "This is not for the faint of heart, Quinlan Vos," she warned. "It will be painful, and you'll go places you never believed you could go if you can make it that far."

"I will!" he said, grabbing her hand again. "I must, whatever it takes to end this war."

"And you'll have to find a different partner," she growled, taking her hand away from him. "I'll teach you what you must know, but Obi-Wan was right. You cannot do this alone. You need an accomplice, and I can't be that person. I can't go after the Sith again, not after what they've done."

"...what did they do?" he asked quietly, but Ventress just shook her head.

"That...is a story for another time," she grumbled. She slammed her fist on the button on the wall, and the door shuddered and slowly screeched open. "I'll find you soon enough to begin your training," she said, pushing him into the hallway."

"How are you-"

"Trust me," she growled. "I'll find you."

Quinlan Vos didn't ask anymore questions. With a nod and a slight bow, he turned and walked down the hallway, leaving a stunned Asajj Ventress to wonder what she had gotten herself in to.