Chapter 85: The Palace of Raxulon

"Master, I have a visual on the General."

"Good work, Ahsoka," Quinlan muttered under his breath, his earpiece buzzing with his Padawan's soft cursing, and he could hear her scrambling for purchase on the high ledge she sat on. Vos couldn't see her from where he was. He wouldn't have been able to see her from anywhere. The girl was good, very good, and Quinlan had taught her well. Her slight figure, her light weight, her athletic body made her uniquely suited to this sort of work, and with a few more years of experience, she would be a better tracker than he was. "What's he up to?"

"Just watching, Master," the Togruta whispered, and Quinlan lowered his head, pressing his forehead against Ventress' as they ducked into a secluded, quiet corner of the gardens in the courtyard of Raxulon's palace. His hand rested on her hip as he absently kissed at her neck, his focus on his Padawan's voice in his ear, though he was admittedly...distracted. It was a formal affair, and only Ahsoka had managed to get out of dressing for the occasion, since they couldn't secure a third invitation, and she snuck in while Ventress provided a distraction, something she proved to be terribly good at. She was flirtations when she wished to be, and with her midriff exposing dress, a long, revealing slit cut up the length of her leg, she had easily managed to enthrall security with light touches and a soft brush of the Force while Ahsoka found a way in. Quinlan found himself captivated as well, and she hadn't yet left his mind.

"He's just outside the security room, Master," Ahsoka continued, and Vos looked around the garden, his dark eyes roaming over other couples similarly engaged. He and Ventress were simply fitting in. "He's perched outside the room on some overhang, he looks like some freakish bird with that cape of his." The Togruta snorted as she held back laughter, and the Kiffar smiled against the crook of Ventress' neck as he kissed it, the Nightsister hissing as she gently tried to push him away. "You should be able to see him from your current location, Master."

Vos looked up, his sharp eyes observing the overhangs of the palace, but he could see nothing, Frowning, he was about to ask Ahsoka to elaborate when he saw a faint glint of light out if the corner of his eye, and he looked up behind him to see Raxus' sun glinting off the cybernetic body of the Confederacy's General. "I see him, Ahsoka," he whispered. "Do you have a plan?"

"Yeah, I have it all mapped out, Master," the Togruta said. "I'll get Grievous out of the way for you. I've already sabotaged the droids in the security room. All surveillance is down to line of sight." Ahsoka stopped talking when she heard Vos groan, deep and guttural and laden with desire, and through their connection, she could feel lust rip through him. She rolled her eyes. The past few days saw her Master happier than she had ever seen him, and it was Ventress' fault. She wasn't a stranger to Vos indulging, but this was different, all at once focusing him and leaving him distracted.

Vos felt the sharp tug of his Padawan on his consciousness, and he refocused, his hand brushing Ventress hip as she glared at him. "Well done," he whispered. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. I saw him, Master." Vos felt his chest tighten, his hand tightly gripping Ventress, and the woman looked at him nervously. "I saw Pong Krell." Vos and Ventress both breathed a sigh of relief, his relaxation immediately easing her.

"Any sign of Kenobi?"

"No, Master. I haven't seen him, though a lot of people are talking about him and wondering why he isn't here. It seems like the rumors of his involvement with the Mandalorians has gotten around. If he's here, Master, I haven't seen him, and neither has anyone else."

"Keep an eye out, Ahsoka," Vos said. "I'll let you know when Ventress and I are ready to move." The Padawan muttered a swift affirmative and the com was cut, and Vos grabbed Ventress' hand and pulled her out of their secluded corner and into the gardens, walking slowly and carefully observing the couples as they touched and kissed, their human and alien features stained with the flush of intoxication and arousal.

The ceremony had been beautiful, in a way, and despite Vos' reluctance to admit it, Dooku spoke well, his deep, sonorous voice carrying weight and gravitas and respect in his patrician tones. Hatred raced through him to hear the Sith Lord, but through it, he felt the pangs of sympathy for his friend, and he grasped Ventress' hand tighter. The rage in her wasn't nearly as intense as Vos had expected it would be to be in the presence of her former Master. Instead, she was just pained, uncomfortable, and he could feel her anxiousness to do what must be done and leave as quickly as possible. Vos wondered what it would be like to lose her, as Obi-Wan had lost Satine, and he didn't feel the spike of rage like he expected, he just felt...lost. Quinlan looked at her face, studied her every feature, memorized every detail just in case it was the last time he saw her.

"Is there any chance of you being recognized?" Vos asked Ventress, and she shook her head.

"I was a Sith Assassin. I kept to the shadows. These people would know me by reputation, not by sight." She drew closer to Quinlan as they meandered out of the gardens and into the courtyard, slowly making their way to the open doors of the palace where throngs of politicians and important guests milled about and socialized. Dooku was in there somewhere. "Remember," she whispered. "I'll trail Dooku. You will vanish and see if you can find Krell or Kenobi and move yourself into position. If something goes wrong and he is alerted to my presence, we don't want him to know I have an ally."

"And you'll be safe?" Vos asked, concerned, and Ventress flashed him a small, careful smile that made his heart race.

"Dooku won't do anything so publically. He's too careful for that. He has an image to maintain here, a great deal of the war effort is dependent on what these people think of him."

Vos nodded in understanding. "Than I will see you soon, yes?" Ventress nodded, and Vos gave her one last look before he disappeared into the crowed, and made himself lost within the mighty expanse of the palace.

The comlink on his wrist had a map of the palace downloaded to it, but Vos navigated the labyrinth of corridors and halls and rooms both large and small through feel alone. He kept his presence small and muted, which would make him difficult to detect through the Force. He ran his hands over walls and objects, touching them with the Force to sense what had recently transpired, if anything of note did happen. He didn't find anything interesting, not even the slightest hint that the Count may have been wandering these halls, and he began to wonder if Dooku spent any time here at all. The deepest reaches of the palace held all manner of beings looking to get away from the mass of the party, from those that simply needed time alone, to those who were sick from too much alcohol. Others still retreated to engage in elicit behavior, whether with drugs or sex, and Vos made quick mental notes of all of it, though he did try to banish some of the images that were burned into his mind of various non-human species and their array of tentacles, probes, digits and...others entwining in ways that screamed of intimacy.

If the Count or Kenobi or any of the other Sith spent time on Raxus, than they did an amazing job covering their tracks, for Quinlan could find nothing of the Dark Side in the palace, no dark strain in the numerous, twisting halls, nothing sinister in the spacious rooms. Every now and again, he'd think he'd felt a touch of something dark and dangerous, but tuning in deeper into the Force revealed nothing at all. He was nervous, yes, and jumping at shadows. Everything would be fine. Dooku would die, and he and Ventress and Ahsoka would go home. He'd leave the Dark Side behind, recommit himself to the war, finish Ahsoka's training to Knighthood, maybe find a way to be together with Ventress. Anakin did it with a Senator, so there was no reason that he couldn't either.

Suddenly, he found it, a strong, powerful pulse in the Force that set the Dark Side into motion, and quietly, Quinlan kept to the shadows and followed its pull, up and up and up, far away from the wide, open spaces of the courtyards and vast dining rooms where the invited guests gathered to meet with the leaders of the Separatists. He kept to smaller stairwells tucked away out of sight, passages meant for servants, he suspected, and after a long, tiring climb through endless identical corridors, the passageway opened up into a huge, domed room in the upper reaches of the palace. He peaked out, and recognized it immediately to be the library, and he closed his eyes, imagined the adjacent room, a study of sorts he had seen on the map, with wide doors that opened up on to the balcony from which Dooku gave his speech earlier.

Here, the Dark Side was thick, stifling and oppressive. Someone was here. For a moment, he feared it might be Kenobi, and it took everything in him to command his heart to beat slower, a smooth, light beat in his chest to accompany his silent breathing. Carefully, he crept out to the railing of his perch and peered down below, and he saw Pong Krell, the Besalisk Jedi Master presumed dead on Umbara. Quinlan felt a flash of rage fly through him, and as soon as he did, Krell's eyes opened, his quiet meditation disturbed, and he looked up just as Vos had ducked back into the hallway, masking his presence as best as he could and calming himself.

Vos took no chances and quickly, silently left the library, finding himself a small, closed space to sit in and hide, and just as he was about to contact Ventress, the com in his ear buzzed. "Vos," Ventress hissed. "I think Dooku sensed me. He's moving. What's your location?"

"The upper library," he whispered. "I found Krell, he's here." Ventress hissed in frustration and cursed under her breath.

"It will take both of us to kill Dooku. I don't know if it's possible if we have another Sith involved. You need to take him out before Dooku gets there, he's heading in that direction, from the look of it."

Vos inhaled deeply, closed his eyes, and touched the Force. Ventress had trained him well, but Pong Krell was a Jedi Master, and a damn fine one, before he became...whatever it was that he was now. The man had betrayed the Jedi, and that had angered him, but he knew it was too little. He could reach deeper into the Dark Side, draw deep of the endless font of power, but Vos found that he lacked the motivation. His focus was on Dooku, all his wrath turned on him, and today he would have his vengeance. For the galaxy. For the Jedi. For Master Tholme. His hand tightened around his lightsaber as he felt the Dark Side rush through him, his caution slowly fading as murderous intent took over. He wouldn't be stopped. Not here, not by Krell, not when he was so close to his Master's slayer, so close to ending the war. His anger gave him focus, Asajj had said, his anger gave him focus...

"I feel this is a fight I can't end quickly," Vos hissed. "Not even if I catch him off-guard, which I suspect I won't. I think he sensed me too. If he hasn't contacted Dooku yet, he will soon."

"...I'll see what I can do to buy you time," Ventress said after a long pause. "Contact Ahsoka. If Grievous has gotten word from Dooku, have her begin her attack." The com cut, and Vos quickly put himself through to Ahsoka, the young Togruta answering immediately.

"I was just calling you, Master," she said fast and frantic. "Grievous is on the com with Dooku right now!"

"The moment they are done talking, begin your attack," Vos said. "If we do it before, he will be certain something is wrong, and right now, he's just mostly certain."

"Copy that, Master," Tano said quickly, and the com fell silent. Quinlan took a deep breath and stepped out into the hall, heading quickly toward the railing around the upper levels of the library. He was on his own now. He looked down below where Krell was to find the Besalisk had risen from his seated position and was now making his way toward the exit, and panic gripped Vos. He was too far away to attack him outright, too far away to effectively intercept him. He was going to lose Krell. Vos extended his hand, and focused beyond the fallen Jedi toward the control panel in the wall, grabbed hold of it with the Force and pulled hard, the wires and circuits frying and snapping under his grip, and with a low, dying whine, the power within the room shut off, the only lighting coming from the moon as it just began to rise. Through the dark, Vos could see golden eyes staring at him.

The Kiffar jumped off the rail and landed in the spacious room below, his landing easy and graceful as he stood his full height, head and shoulders smaller than the other in the room, and stared right back at Krell, the Besalisk's eyes narrowed as he observed him. "I thought I sensed a rat," the former Jedi snarled, his powerful hands reaching to grab the huge hilts of his double-sided lightsabers, the blades extending with a unified hiss and bathing the area in red light. "Quinlan Vos...Master Lumis speaks about you a great deal."

Quinlan took his own green blade into his hand, the glowing saber looking small and thin in comparison to Krell's mighty blades. "Master Lumis?" he asked. "You allowed Obi-Wan to train you?"

Krell laughed loudly. "No, though I had asked him. Dooku is my Master."

"Ah." It was as Ventress had said. He grit his teeth and held his blade out before him. He was short on time. "Is Obi-Wan here?"

Krell laughed. "No. But last I heard, Master Lumis was looking for you."

Quinlan nodded, a grin on his face as he slowly advanced. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I just don't have the time." He quickly reached out, his hand closing into a crushing fist, and with a growl of pain, the comlink on Krell's wrist shattered, the bent and twisting metal digging into the tough flesh of his arm. "Can't have you contacting Dooku, now can I?"

With a snarl of rage, Krell crouched down and sprung toward the Kiffar, the red blades blazing around him, and Quinlan ducked underneath them, skidding to a stop behind the Besalisk and flipping up into the air when the enormous man turned on him with unexpected speed for someone his size. He lashed out with his blade, but quickly had to twist in the air and block the ferocious weapons as they arched up toward him, the red sabers seeming to scream in the air as they fought. Vos could hear the crackling of the broken control console on the wall behind him, and he grit his teeth as he blocked a series of savage strikes from Krell. They were trapped within the library. He could cut himself out, but not while the former Jedi was alive, not while he had to make certain that this creature didn't run to Dooku's aid.

The com in his ear crackled, and Quinlan only just managed to lean back out of the way as the red blades slashed right in front of his face. "Master, I've succeeded in trapping Grievous within the security tunnels!" Ahsoka said, her voice tight and strained with hard, heavy breathing as she ran. "I have his lightsabers, and I broke his comlink, as we discussed. He's sealed in, but I don't know how long it will hold." Vos would have beamed like an idiot, congratulated his young Padawan for her good work, but he couldn't divert his attention from Krell, not for a moment, or those wicked blades would kill him in an instant.

"Master?" Ahsoka asked, a hint of worry beginning to stain her voice, but Quinlan couldn't answer. Bearing his teeth as rage filled him, Vos gripped hold of the Dark Side and used it to fuel his strength, fill him with power, give additional weight to his already powerful strikes, but Krell was ready. He was being fueled by the Dark Side too. Vos thought that, perhaps, Krell would still be considered new, would still be very early within his apprenticeship in the Dark Side, wouldn't have the powers of a Sith yet. After all, it had only been five months since the battle of Umbara, and five months wasn't enough time to learn anything. However, the Besalisk was proving to be more than formidable, and he met Quinlan's use of the Dark Side with darkness of his own.

"Master," Ahsoka growled over the com. "You stay where you are. I'm coming to find you." The earpiece fell silent, and with a deep breath, Vos sunk deeper into the Force and shifted his lightsaber style from Ataru to something darker, something more dangerous, something that had been forbidden to him by the Jedi since he walked so close to the edge of darkness. Vaapad. Mace Windu's style, a style that Quinlan learned, but had been afraid to use since the battle of Christophsis. He keenly remembered how angry he had become, how close to the Dark Side he danced, and how Kenobi had used this to get deep within his mind and assume control. Vos always knew there was darkness within him, but in that moment, when he had Obi-Wan's hands deep within his mind, he had felt the call of the Dark Side, soft and sweet and seductive, and he had almost taken it. The use of Vaapad drove him closer to darkness than he had ever been, and the Sith Lord had been quick to abuse it.

But that was before.

Now, with his training in the Dark Side, he had spent so long beside actual darkness, had stepped within it, had tasted the power it gave him, and he would not shy away from it again. He reached out with the Force to feel Krell's anger, his hatred, his rage through the Force, and Vos took it deep within himself, effortlessly evading and blocking and dodging as the Dark Side drove him to be stronger and faster. With a breath of the Dark Side, Vos slipped into Vaapad, his blade moving so fast it blurred in the air, his strikes furious and random as he fed off Krell's well of the Dark Side, and the more angry, the more frustrated the Besalisk became, the stronger Quinlan grew.

The idea was not to allow the Dark Side to touch you, to feed off the power brought by darkness while keeping yourself removed and untouched, but Vos had always been too close to the edge to do it safely, and now, without his old reservations to hold him back, there was no stopping the Dark Side from seeping deep within him. And he was powerful, the true potential of the Jedi's Vaapad realized as the Dark Side was embraced. Vos moved almost too quick to be seen, his increased aggression channeled into a furious offense that left no room, no time to defend as he pushed Krell back, the Besalisk reluctantly retreating from the rain of furious blows. Vos' slashes hit Krell's defense so hard that a shower of sparks sprang from each and every hit of green plasma on red.

Vos and Krell were evenly matched, their green and red blades flying, and though Vos had the advantage of his furious offensive, he couldn't get past the absolute flurry of the spinning red blades the Krell employed. Every time he saw an opening and moved to strike, another end of the saber was there to cover the weakness. If the Besalisk fought with one blade, or even two, the Kiffar would have had him several times over, but Krell had four blades in his employ, and put them to use with the skill of a Jedi Master and the wrath of a Dark Side apprentice. In another's hands, the blades would have been cumbersome, but Krell's four arms made easy work of the graceful swings, wielding them with the ease that Vos did with just his one. And still, the Kiffar knew that this fight was far easier than the one that awaited him. Alone against Krell, he was evenly matched, but alone against Dooku, and he would die. He needed Ventress to even have a chance at bringing down the Count, but if he had a partner here, than Krell would fall quickly...

Quinlan saw movement out of the corner of his eye, a swift, lithe figure flying toward them, two green blades extended and held in her backhanded grip as Ahsoka fell from the library's second story, twisting in the air and lashing out against the Besalisk, and Krell only just managed to bring one of the double-bladed weapons up in time to catch the Togruta's slash. As the sabers hit, Ahsoka twisted her body around, bringing her feet over Krell's blade and landing on the Besalisk's lower arm. Krell wrenched his blade around too late to catch her and the red struck green just as Ahsoka's second blade slid between the two arms on Krell's right side. Yellow eyes widened in pain as he spun away from the Jedi, keeping the blade from penetrating too deep and the sudden movement causing Ahsoka to lose her footing in the moment before she could jump away. Krell let go of his saber with one of his hands and grabbed for the Togruta, thick fingers wrapping around her ankle, but his focus was on the furious Kiffar as Vos redoubled his efforts to bring the Sith apprentice down.

Krell slashed across his body at the Togruta in his grasp, but the girl curled her strong body up toward the hand that held her and the blade passed harmlessly underneath her. With a growl of frustration at her capture, she brought her sabers up and stabbed them into the arm that held her, the thin blades piercing the Besalisk's skin, and with a howl of pain and fury, Krell dropped the Padawan, the fury of his focus shifting from Vos to Tano. He slashed up at the girl as she fell, but Ahsoka held her blade out and ready to slide safely along the red blade, and as her feet safely touched the ground, she extended her second saber above her, Krell's weapon spinning around her own as it whipped around to strike her. She ducked underneath, cutting across with her offhand weapon as she did, and the green saber connected with the hilt of the red, severing it in two as the red blades flickered off with a crackle.

It was over, and Vos knew it, could feel the change in the Force as Krell's fury built and focused on Ahsoka, the little girl that had struck him, disarmed him of his secondary blades, and now crouched on the ground defiantly, blades at the ready and muscles trembling in anticipation of a renewed assault. The com in his ear crackled to life, his attention diverted for just a moment when his name was gently whispered. Ventress.

"Where are you?" she hissed under her breath as Vos charged after the Besalisk as Krell once again engaged his Padawan, the red weapon swinging wildly as his wrath grew, the little Togruta taking evasive action and blocking each strike, sparks flying into the air as the blades made fast, hard contact. "Dooku's here, he's on the balcony, he knows I'm here."

"Get his attention," Vos whispered, closing his eyes and sinking deep into the Force and grabbed hold of its power. "I'm on the way now." He was out of time, and while Krell was on his last leg, it could be some time before he and Ahsoka managed to bring him down, especially with how angry he had become, especially with how that anger was translating directly into a frightening increase of his power. Vos cloaked himself in the Force, allowed his anger, his fear, his panic to take hold of him, and he felt his strength growing. He remembered Obi-Wan, the way he had suffered as a Jedi, the way he must be suffering now, and the lessons that he had taught him. Kenobi had taken his hand and led him toward the Dark Side, toward ultimate, unlimited power, had been there with him on Florrum, his shadowy presence in his mind as Vos committed his first murder, and through it all, he remembered what he hd been taught, not just by Kenobi, but by the Jedi and Ventress as well. A lightsaber in hand was a fine weapon, but there was no weapon more powerful than the Force.

His rage peaked, and Vos grabbed the Force and threw it at Krell, the mighty power of it driving the Besalisk off-balance and sliding back along the ground, his lightsaber digging into the ground to stop him, but the blade cut through the floor like it was nothing at all. With another push, Vos slammed the Force into Krell once again and the former Jedi flew back, striking one of the long windows as he did, the glass shattering under the massive weight of the creature, and then he was gone. Out of breath, Ahsoka and Vos rushed to the broken window and looked down below, the flora of the gardens small beneath them, the specks of the patrolling battle droids rushing to surround the Besalisk on the ground. They couldn't see if he was moving or not.

"We need to go," Quinlan said softly, taking his Padawan's hand and rushing toward the door on the far end of the library. Together, they cut through the thick steel, the ruined controls sparking and hissing on the wall beside them, and a moment later, they were running down the hall to get to the door of the adjacent room. The door hissed open, and the two Jedi rushed in, lightsabers thrumming in the air, and they looked upon Dooku, his broad shoulders relaxed, his entire countenance at ease and holding a glass of wine in his hand. Ventress stood on the other side of him, her blades drawn, and Vos locked eyes with her and smiled in relief, his heart beating against his chest to see the woman alive. Ventress' face was cold, hiding her every thought, every feeling, but the look from the Jedi didn't go without Dooku's notice.

"So you did bring an ally, my failed apprentice," the Count said, amusement in his deep voice, and it made Ventress visibly cringe. "And Jedi, no less." His dark brown eyes looked over the newcomers, a faint smile on his lips, and he drank from the wine in his glass. "You'll never take me alive."

"That isn't the intention," Vos snarled, stepping forward and blade raised, and again, Dooku looked between Vos and Ventress, his eyes widening with sudden realization. Vos and Ventress charged him together, and Dooku artfully stepped out of the way, his own lightsaber flying to his hand and activating with a deep hiss just in time to fend off Ahsoka as she attacked. Dooku barely moved his lightsaber, the red blade effortlessly parrying and deflecting the savage strikes from the young Togruta as he focused on Vos, felt the Dark Side rush to the Jedi in a wave of power and anger. The Jedi Master rushed to him, green blade held in both hands as he clashed with Dooku's red, and the Sith Lord, with a careless swipe of his hand, threw Ahsoka out of the way, the Padawan striking the far wall with a gasp of pain, and the Count grinned when he felt the Kiffar's rage grow.

Dooku effortlessly parried Vos' wild, savage strikes, his back toward Ventress when he felt her coming, and he ducked under her slash, spun around and danced between the two so they were forced to guard against injuring each other as they attempted to slay the Sith Lord. Ventress cursed as Dooku blocked, stabbing forward with her second blade, and Dooku spun out of the way, the tip of her red saber nearly stabbing Vos. It became more chaotic when Ahsoka had recovered and joined the fray, adding two more blades to the fight against Dooku, but also two more blades for the other two to avoid, and Dooku artfully ducked and dodged between them, allowing his enemies to inconvenience each other.

With a snarl, Ventress dug deep into the Force and back flipped over the Count just as he brought his blade swinging toward her. Their tactic wasn't working, and surrounding him was causing more harm than good. Picking up on what she was trying to do, Vos dodged out of the way to allow her to land, blocking Dooku's blade as he did so, but he couldn't move his weapon fast enough to catch the red saber again as the Count whipped it around, catching the Kiffar on the side with a glancing blow. Quinlan hissed in pain, gripped his side with his free hand, and both Ahsoka and Ventress watched as Vos' face, filled with pain, quickly hardened into anger. With the Dark Side flowing through him, Vos renewed his assault, faster and more vicious than before, and finally, Dooku was forced back.

With the Sith on the retreat, the three pressed their advantage, trying to fan out around him, but Dooku moved back too swiftly, knew the room too well. With a growl of irritation, Ahsoka made to jump over the Count, and just as she leapt, a brutal wave of the Force crashed into her, sending her flying across the room to strike a wall with such force that spidering cracks raced out from the point of impact, and she fell to the floor, dazed. She could hear her Master screaming for her, could see the blurry images of green and red lights swinging and arching through the air, and before she could rise to her feet, she found herself lifted once again, a tight, choking grasp upon her throat. Blackness began to creep in from the edges of her vision, and suddenly, she felt the wind rushing as she was thrown again, her head striking the stone railing of the balcony outside, and Ahsoka's vision exploded in white, and she saw nothing else.

With Ahsoka hurt and out of the fight, Vos' rage exploded, his vision going red as he looked at the Sith as he struck high and low, stabbing and slashing at random, but the Count easily countered and deflected his strikes, his quick, graceful movements keeping Vos and Ventress from engaging him together. With a snarl of fury, Ventress stabbed forward at him when she saw an opening, and realized too late that she had overextended when Dooku spun out of her way, caught her wrist in his free hand, and whipped her around, slamming her into the wall beside him with his considerable strength augmented by the Force. A moment later, and she too was lifted into the air, the choking grasp around her neck, and her lightsabers dropped as she clawed against her invisible restraint.

Vos renewed his efforts, fighting faster and harder than before in an attempt to disrupt the Count's focus and free Ventress, but it was to no avail. As Ventress choked, as he could feel the life being squeezed out of her, fury filled the Jedi, the Dark Side griping him as his focus narrowed and one, singular thing echoed through his mind until he could hear nothing else: kill Dooku. The Count smirked wickedly when he saw murder come into the Jedi's eyes, his red blade sliding along the green as he redirected Quinlan's weapon, countering and parrying quickly when Vos increased his speed.

"You fight well," Dooku said softly, his voice low and almost impressed. "For a Jedi," he added as an afterthought, and a gleam of something all too familiar came to the Kiffar's eyes.

"I had a good teacher," he snarled, viciously slashing upwards and quickly redirecting the blade to stab forward, the sudden, random movement almost catching the Count in the shoulder, and the Sith's eyes widened in surprise, but narrowed again when he looked at Ventress in the air. With a wave of his hand through the air, Dooku sent the woman slamming hard on to the ground, back up into the air, and then out the wide balcony doors to skid to a halt next to Ahsoka, blood trailing on the ground behind her.

Fury filled Vos, more violent than before, and he embraced it, just as he was taught, took the Dark Side into his hands and allowed it to run freely through him, wild and untamed, but the look on the Count's face nearly made the Jedi lose his focus. He looked as though he had pulled a winning card, like he had already won this fight. Perhaps he had, but it wasn't over until Vos said it was over. He charged the Sith again, letting his fury guide his blade, but the Sith Lord just chuckled, his deep brown eyes filled with amused satisfaction.

"Ventress taught you, has she?" the Count asked, and Quinlan grit his teeth and pressed forward. "She's given you a taste of the Dark Side, and...perhaps other things as well." There was an insufferable smirk on the Sith's face, and Vos aimed his lightsaber right at it in an attempt to separate the man's head from his body, but the Count lightly evaded, his red blade deflecting the raining blows with ease. Without the others to divert his attention, Dooku's focus was centered on Vos, and it was making it nearly impossible to find an opening. Once, Dooku had been among the greatest swordsmen of the Jedi Order, and with the Dark Side to fuel his powers, it only made him more skilled.

"How many Jedi vows have you broken just to destroy me, Vos?" Dooku asked, and Quinlan felt his body surge with power, his thoughts consumed with revenge as images of his fallen Master flashed through his mind. He grit his teeth and tried to stem the tide, knew full well what drinking too deep of the Dark Side yielded, and the Sith took advantage of his struggle, and before Vos knew what had happened, Dooku had forced the Jedi's back against the wall, and Quinlan wildly parried the quick cuts, the swift stabs that seemed to dart in at him from all angles. And yet...

In his passion for revenge for his Master, for the Republic, consumed with the feelings of lust, possibly even love, between him and Ventress, it had been so, so easy to focus on all the Dark Side had given him, on all he had gained in his quest to end the war. He hadn't once thought of what he stood to lose were he to lose himself. He looked over to the balcony, saw Ventress and Ahsoka stirring, rising to shaking legs, stumbling to find balance, both women weary and bleeding. He stood to lose them both, not later, not if the Dark Side were to take him, but now. He had the best of intentions to come here and do this thing, but it was the Dark Side that had led him here, and he had willingly allowed it.

"Idiot!" It was Ventress, the woman standing and wavering on unstable legs, he hand tightly grasping the railing as she helped the Padawan to her feet. "Don't listen to him, he's trying to lead you astray! Focus!"

Focus. Vos could do that. With a snarl of rage, he stepped out of the way of one of Dooku's blades, spun around and caught the red blade as it sliced toward him with his own weapon. Dooku simply chuckled.

"You're stronger than Ventress ever was," Dooku growled as he was forced to retreat, the Jedi having found renewed strength. "She is using you."

"You can't deceive me, Sith."

"There's power deep inside you, Vos," Dooku said, ignoring the Jedi and parrying his fast, aggressive assault. "Ventress hasn't taught you your true potential. She seeks to control you, Vos, and she can't control what's stronger than she is."

Ventress' blades came sweeping down toward Dooku, recalled to her hand when the two men were occupied, and the Sith sidestepped, bringing his blade up and around to deflect the slashing green lightsabers of Ahsoka Tano, both women having recovered enough to rejoin the fight, but Vos was...shaken. There was something dark that slept deep within him, something that Ventress had warned him about, something that she said he must never touch. He knew it was dangerous, he knew it was because the Dark Side was seductive, a trap that was so, so difficult to come away from, that embracing that darkest part of him would lead to ruin...

But a thin tendril of doubt began to creep into his mind. Was Dooku right? Was Ventress holding him back? They had to defeat Dooku, they had to kill him, and if sinking that deep into the Dark Side could give him the strength he needed, than why avoid it? Why not use a tool they desperately needed? Vos looked at the women as they fought the Sith, Dooku easily blocking their weakened strikes, and he brushed the thought away. Ventress was right, Dooku was trying to lead him astray. He couldn't touch that final layer of darkness, lest he lose himself. He needed to stay focused. For Ventress. For Ahsoka.

He rejoined the fight, his focus returned, and Dooku's eyes shot to him, blazing with fury and narrowing in focus, the amusement dropping from his face as rage settled in. Dooku wielded the Force the way he wielded his lightsaber, and the three combatants found themselves thrown back, flipping in the air and landing on their feet and prepared to rush back in when the door hissed open and the room instantly grew colder. Vos' eyes widened in terror, and Dooku instantly knocked him down to the ground, the Jedi scrambling to get back to his feet, but the Count bore down upon him, stabbing and slashing at him with his lightsaber as Vos barely managed to deflect the rain of blows. His focus kept shifting to the door, watching with wide, fearful eyes as Grievous and Pong Krell strode into the room, and between them both was Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Vos swallowed hard, his focus shifting back to Dooku when the red saber dug into the floor right beside his head. Obi-Wan wasn't supposed to be there, nobody had seen him, nobody had felt him. His old friend looked cold, removed, as if he were simply observing a dull painting. There was no recognition on his face, no rage upon him, no frantic desperation, none of the sly grins that Vos had always been greeted with in the past. There was only frigid hatred in those blazing eyes.

He stopped, observed the scene, and pointed to Ahsoka and Ventress, the cyborg's stolen lightsabers attached to the Togruta's belt flying to the Sith's hand. "Kill them," he quietly commanded to the men at his side, tossing the sabers to them, and with snarls of acknowledgment, Grievous and Krell ignited their lightsabers and rushed past Vos and Dooku to engage the two terrified women.

Vos frantically began struggling, renewing his efforts to get away from Dooku so he could rejoin Ventress and Ahsoka, give them all a chance to escape. When the blade sunk into the ground by his head once again, he saw his opportunity, swiftly grabbed the Count's wrist and yanked him down, using the momentum to pull himself up, and a moment later, their positions had been reversed, and it was Dooku defending himself from the ground against a furious Vos. It would be worth it if Dooku died, even if Kenobi would kill them all for it. If he could just get past his guard, if he could just...

His green blade circled Dooku's, and with a flick of his wrist, the Count's lightsaber went flying from his hand. A surge of victory rushed through him, the Jedi's eyes glinting dangerously as he looked at the prone Sith, and with a deep laugh, Vos angled his green blade down, the point aimed at the Sith Lord's heart. It was over. This was a deliberate execution, and Vos could feel the Dark Side pulse within him, howl with triumph as he brought the blade down.

Before the green blade could sink into Dooku's heart, Vos was wrenched sideways, and he found his downward stab was suddenly thrusting up into the air as he slammed down to the ground, the wind knocked out of him as he fell and his lightsaber rolling away from his grasp. A moment later, he groaned in pain when Kenobi's knee slammed down onto his chest, pinning him there and preventing the Jedi's lungs from expanding. He reached up, tried to push his old friend off of him, but found his strength suddenly sapped, tried to reach for the darkness but found it wasn't there. His power was deprived, drawn to the cold fury of the Sith above him, the blazing golden eyes glaring down at his prone form. Vos looked to his lightsaber, not so very far away, reached out to call it to him, but the Sith Lord followed his gaze, and with a flick of his wrist, the Master's lightsaber was flung out the doors and over the railing of the balcony, and Vos watched, devastated, as his weapon dropped from sight. It was over. They had lost.

A shriek of surprise caught Vos' attention, and he swiftly turned his head, his eyes wide with fear as he watched General Grievous charge toward his Padawan, his heavy strikes sending her off-balance. A surge of strength went through him, and he knocked Kenobi loose, and Quinlan quickly rolled onto his stomach, raised onto his hands and the balls of his feet, and felt the Sith's foot on his back, shoving him back down to the ground. He struggled, gasping for breath and howling for his Padawan, and he watched helplessly, desperately as Grievous caught Ahsoka in his clawed hands, his forward momentum sending both cyborg and Togruta tumbling over the railing of the balcony.

"Obi-Wan!" Vos cried desperately, struggling with all his might, but it wasn't enough. He watched as Dooku turned from the other Sith, his blade in hand, and slowly advanced toward Ventress, the woman engaged in her own furious duel with Pong Krell. She was tired, injured, her energy nearly depleted, and while she was good enough to cover up any mistake she made in her fatigue, Vos knew it would not last. She was going to die. Ahsoka may already be dead. He closed his eyes, reached out through their connection, tried to feel for the Padawan he loved and cherished, and instead felt Kenobi's hand on his head, his long, elegant fingers sliding into his hair, his thick, poisonous touch slipping into his mind. Whatever connection that existed between himself and Ahsoka, the powerful bond between them, was obscured when darkness surrounded him, seductive and soothing as he felt it burn within him.

"Obi-Wan!" he tried again, desperate, wiggling under the Sith's grasp, but the man did not respond. "Obi-Wan, please! Let me go! Help me get my revenge, we can do it together!"

"Lumis," Dooku called, and Vos watched out of the corner of his eye as Kenobi's gaze shot away from him and toward the other Sith. "Do you have any use for her?" he asked, pointing his blade toward Ventress, and Quinlan felt the dark hold in his mind suddenly begin to blaze with searing heat. He started to shut his eyes against the pain, but pushed it aside and instead looked at Ventress, the woman backed out onto the balcony, her eyes wide and afraid.

"She has served her purpose," the Sith Lord said coldly, and Vos involuntarily shivered, renewed his struggle and found it just as futile as before. "She means nothing to me. Kill her."

"No!" Ventress cried, backing up, and Vos struggled, reached out toward her as Dooku turned and began to advance. "Obi-Wan, please, I'm sorry!" Vos could feel Kenobi above him, cold and still, felt him shift as his knee replaced the foot on his back, and Vos groaned loudly as he felt Obi-Wan flood his mind with darkness. He watched Ventress, the woman afraid, her lightsabers raised, as she looked over the railing, than back toward Vos. For a moment, Quinlan thought she would run toward him, take her chances against the blades of the Sith and his apprentice in a last attempt to get to Vos. His hazy mind suddenly snapped to attention, the Dark Side savagely pulling against him and drawing the fog from his mind. He's renewed struggles stopped when Kenobi's other hand laid on his shoulder, pressing him down as the Sith leaned all his weight upon him.

"I want you to watch this, Quin," Lumis whispered in Vos' ear, and the Jedi trembled at how cold his friend sounded, how tight the accented voice was with hatred and wrath. "She betrayed me once, and it led to the slaughter of her people, the rise of Maul, the death of Satine and my son..." Vos felt a stab of pain go through him. He wasn't sure if it was true, or if it was a warped perception of what had actually happened, but the pain in his friend wounded him. He opened his mouth to speak, but found his throat suddenly closed, and he gasped as he watched Ventress look over the rail, back at him, at the Sith that were advancing on her. "Hush, Quin," Lumis hissed, the hand tightening in his hair, the shadowy grasp in his mind closing in once again. "There's no room for sympathy in the Sith. Just revenge. Only revenge."

He couldn't take his eyes off Ventress as he gasped for air, the edges of his vision beginning to blacken with the threat of unconsciousness, but he fought it off. She raised her weapons, poised and committed to fight, and the last thing Vos saw of Asajj Ventress, the woman he was falling in love with, was her back as she turned on him and leap over the railing, abandoning him to the mercy of the Sith. He could feel Kenobi shudder above him when pain and betrayal rushed through the Jedi, exhaling with a soft, shivering moan at the feel of the Dark Side pooling around them, and Vos felt his mind haze again with the feel of Obi-Wan's hands combing through his mind.

"Krell, go after her," he heard Dooku command, but his voice was faded, distant, as if he were underwater. He saw the Besalisk kneel before his Master, grumble his obedience, and leap over the rail after the rouge Nightsister. Vos hoped she escaped. Even though she left him there, he knew very well that these was no winning against the Sith. Escape was her only chance of survival, and he was glad she took it. But it still hurt.

"I've waited for you long enough, Quin," Kenobi whispered in his ear, and Vos felt himself shiver in a mix of fear, resistance, anticipation and pleasure. "Come now..." he drawled smoothly, the grasp on Vos' throat releasing, and the Jedi took in a deep breath that did nothing to relieve the pain in his chest, the haze in his mind, the blackness swiftly encroaching upon his vision. Those long fingers gently stroked his hair as they stroked his mind, and the last thing Quinlan Vos heard was the smooth, elegant voice say, "Burn with me..."

After that, there was only darkness.