Chapter 92: The Rescue
"And you're sure that Dooku won't be here?" Boba Fett asked, his voice cross, the light tones catching the deepening of his age. At a recent thirteen, Fett was easily the youngest bounty hunter worthy of note in the galaxy, a result of having done this all his life, trained since before he could remember by his father, Jango Fett, the eminent bounty hunter in the galaxy until his death on Geonosis three years back. A brutal death by Jedi Knights, which young Boba had watched. He still saw it sometimes when he slept, and he hated the Jedi for it.
"Dooku has a war to run," Ventress scoffed, clearly irritated by the boy's questions. "He had greater things to do and more important places to be. And even if he is here, he certainly won't bother himself with thieves." Fett's eyes narrowed as he looked the woman over, and he hated her. Sure, she was paying him and his crew an insane amount of credits for what amounted to a heist, a fairly simple thing, considering that they were acting as a highly paid diversion, but still. He didn't know the extent of the plan when he took the job, which he was not comfortable with, since the rest of his crew had jumped at the prospect of so much money. After all, two hundred fifty thousand credits was nothing to turn away from.
But they had worked with this woman before in the past, calling herself No Name in an attempt to conceal her identity, and it had gone very badly, ending with Boba and his group failing the contract because No Name got soft for a slave they were transporting to a lascivious master. Yes, she had left them the sum of their part of the payment, but nothing would square them away. Fett's pride was wounded, and no amount of credits could correct that. Until it did. Like his crew, the insane amount she was offering was enough for him to swallow his wounded pride and take her credits, even without a firm grasp on what exactly it was they were going to be stealing. However, they had been assured they weren't the main event, that No Name and her Togruta companion would be going for the actual target. Fett considered that complete bantha shit. After all, the point of a diversion was to draw attention away from the objective. They'd be in the thick of it, and possibly dealing with his late father's previous employer, a man he knew to be unbelievably dangerous.
He looked around at his crew. The reptilian Trandoshan, Bossk, the purple-skinned Theelin, Latts Razzi, the seemingly sentient assassin droid, C-21 Highsinger, and the renowned and dangerous Kyuzo, Embo, his pet anooba, Marrok sleeping contentedly by his side. They all sat in the hold of the Slave I, the ship that used to belong to Jango Fett until his death, when Boba had taken possession of the ship. He had patched the navicomputer into the coordinates of the freighter that they had hijacked, and the supply ship was continuing its run to Serenno, where it was already given the property security measures to land safely. Getting into the Count's palace wasn't actually shaping up to be that hard, and Boba hated to admit it, but the plan was a good one. No Name had done her research. But getting out...
Fett again looked around at his crew. The plan was uncertain, the variables unknown. It was dangerous, and as much as he liked credits, it was no good to him if he were dead. "I'm calling it off," he said sternly, getting up and marching toward the cockpit, and everyone rose to object.
"The credits, Fett!" Bossk growled in his deep, gravelly hiss. "Think of all those credits!"
"Think of Count Bloody Dooku!" Fett snapped in return, pointing an angry finger at the cross, bald woman that employed them. "This guy must have done something awful to get himself in trouble with the leader of the Separatists, and since No Name here isn't saying anything, we're leaving."
"He tried to kill him," Ventress said plainly, her arms crossed over her chest, and a few of Fett's crew whistled, impressed. "All you're doing is running the distraction," she said dismissively, as if it were the easiest thing in the galaxy. "My friend and I are doing the hard part. Do you think you can handle that? A real bounty hunter could."
Boba bristled. She was manipulating him, and he knew it, but the matter had been settled as soon as the words left her mouth. "Fine," he hissed. "But once we begin, you're only getting fifteen minutes to get in and out, understand? I plan on living to spend the credits you've given me."
Ventress frowned and crossed her arms. "I'll be quick. Don't you worry about that." His nose in the air and standing as tall as he could, which was still below the woman's height, he turned on his heel and stormed off to the cockpit where he found No Name's associate sitting in the copilot's seat, quiet and hunched over and holding a small holoprojector in her hands. Above it floated the blue image of a thin woman in long, dark robes, a concerned look on her face. Boba tried to frown, but found he couldn't. The girl had been quiet and sullen since she had boarded the ship, and he didn't think he heard her speak a single word. She was young, very young, only a few years older than himself, and though nobody had said anything about it, he suspected the girl was a Jedi, or at least training to become one. Despite his hatred of the Jedi for what had happened to his father, Boba didn't seem to mind much. After all, the girl was too young to have taken part in the Battle of Geonosis.
It didn't hurt that she was pretty cute as well.
"Take caution, Padawan," the woman in the hologram said. "I sense something deeply wrong with this. It feels...too familiar."
"How?" Ahsoka asked softly, and Boba took his seat in the pilot's chair. The girl didn't even seem to notice him there, and if she did, she certainly didn't care.
"I was there when Obi-Wan was given permission to go to Serenno and confront Dooku," she said softly, sadly, and the Togruta's eyes widened as she gave the woman her rapt attention. "They also sent him alone, just as they're sending you alone now. And no," she said firmly when the girl opened her mouth to speak. "Ventress doesn't count. She isn't a Jedi. You came to the Council for help and we sent you off with nothing. This is exactly what happened with Obi-Wan."
"Not exactly, Master," Ahsoka whispered, her hands nervously clenching the holoprojector in her hands. It was a rare thing for Luminara to drift so close to anger, but she did have a lot going on. It seemed like even her faith in the Council was beginning to wane, and even she began to stand closer to Qui-Gon's disregard.
"Not exactly, of course," the Mirialan said softly. "But close enough to be noticed. Just remember how that ended, Ahsoka. Jedi died, and Kenobi embraced the Sith. Be mindful of the risks, Padawan. It's a dangerous place you go to."
"I will, Master."
The Mirialan smiled gently for a moment before her face became hard and impassive. "If you see Barriss..." She took a deep breath, her voice shuddering for a moment. "Rescuing Vos is hard enough, but if you see my Padawan, please..."
"I'll do what I can to take her back into custody," Ahsoka said softly, but the Master shook her head.
"That isn't what I was going to ask." She smiled gently at the Togruta. "Don't you worry yourself about it, Ahsoka. I'll see to Barriss myself. Please, return to us safely with the information we need. Maybe then we can mobilize the Jedi."
"If it isn't too late..." the Padawan muttered, and a grim shadow fell over the Jedi Master.
"Yes...provided it's not too late. May the Force be with you, Ahsoka." The hologram flickered off, leaving the girl to stare at the rounded device in her hands.
"You're a Jedi?" Boba asked quietly, though the answer was clear. The girl nodded.
"At least, I was..." She could feel the boy's eyes on her, narrowed and confused, the same feel on him that she felt from the millions of clones that she had served with. It made it easy for her to understand him, his moods, his feelings, though she could sense he was very different from the other clones. She relaxed, the familiarity of a comforting presence easing her. "I lost my Master. What is a Padawan without a Master?" The boy stayed silent, and she laughed bitterly. "No Jedi at all, that's what. That's why we're going to save him. We have to. Not just for him, but for me as well."
That explained the mission. At least this Ahsoka was more forthcoming and honest than No Name, than Ventress, she was called. It was expected from a Jedi, Fett supposed, and this one seemed almost defeated as she sat there. It wasn't a good sign. "Is that who we're rescuing? Another Jedi?" The girl nodded. "Aren't Jedi supposed to be able to accomplish the impossible? What does he need us for?"
"He may not need us at all." Tano's big blue eyes drifted up to the forward viewport to look at the blackness of space before them, and the freighter that they tagged along with like a security detail. "Ventress said he wouldn't fall to the Dark Side, that she trained him well enough to not give in, and I believe her, I do, but..." She sighed, running a hand over the small bumps of her growing montrails and down to clutch at a beaded chain that hung down over her shoulder beside her lekku. Boba had seen similar on human Jedi in the form of braids, and he assumed that the chain must serve the same purpose for the hairless Togruta.
"You think he's gone rogue? Or traitor?"
"...I don't know. He hates the Sith. He hates Count Dooku, and he hates that his friend was stolen by them. I can't see why he'd join them. He's stubborn and proud and strong, and I don't think he can be broken." She turned to look at the young bounty hunter. "But we're going to rescue him, and that may not be something he wants." Her fists clenched tightly around the lightsaber at her hip, the weapon that belonged to her Master. "I have to know, regardless of the truth. I have to. How else am I suppose to know what to do?"
Boba didn't have a good answer for that, so he didn't say anything. Serenno appeared small through the viewport, and as the planet grew closer, he couldn't shake the feeling that this mission was doomed for failure. He shrugged, leaned back, and watched the young Jedi learner appreciatively out of the corner of his eye. It didn't matter if this fool's errand failed. He was getting paid regardless.
Quinlan Vos knelt in the center of the training ring, stripped to the waist, his tanned skin gleaming with sweat and large, red welts from Dooku's lightsaber. He had underestimated the old man, and had been for the better part of the day. With Kenobi gone with Barriss and Cody, and Krell sent off on some mission near Murkhana, Vos was left alone with the Sith Lord Tyranus, and had been for the past two days. He was bored out of his mind, and had taken to filling his time with drinking heavily from Dooku's private reserves and taking his time getting to know the servants as intimately as he could. When several women had reported in that morning to their duties late, the imperious Count was already tired of the pleasure seeking Vos and had dragged him out of bed, naked and hung over and threw him into the training ring to be taught a lesson. Eventually, he sent for a pair of pants for the groggy Vos, the Kiffar still stumbling and feeling the effects of the previous night's binge in shaky legs and unfocused, blurry vision.
Vos had beaten Dooku before, was brimming with confidence after he slid into his pants, and had spun his lightsaber around his wrist with practiced ease. Using the Force to ease the unwanted effects of the alcohol, he looked upon the Count with disdain, taking in his rigid posture, his loose, relaxed grip on his saber, the superior smirk upon his face, and above all else, his advanced age. Dooku had to be eighty years old at least, and a fight against an old man was no contest. If he could kill Dooku now, then he could stand as true equals with Obi-Wan, Sith brothers, not Master and apprentice but actual partners.
Which led him to now, on the ground and panting with effort and pain. Dooku, apparently, had been holding back on Raxus, and the match had been three on one then. Now, with only Vos to stand before him, the Kiffar understood why Dooku had become apprentice to the Master Sith. He was spry for an old man, and elegant, no movement wasted in his flowing, graceful style. He had fought with better than Vos, clearly, and had prevailed then as well, and while Quinlan's saber was turned up to full power with the intention to kill, Dooku was merely playing with him, the power dialed down to wickedly painful, but far from fatal. The threat of death, Vos suspected, may have simply given the Sith Lord more power.
More than once he felt the blade slide between his ribs into his lungs, cut across his back, his broad chest, his strong stomach and arms in ferocious, stinging cuts that left large, red welts, not the burns that Kenobi had inflicted upon him on Christophsis. Those burns had left scars, meant in part to claim the Kiffar as Kenobi's, the dark burns around his wrists like shackles that bound him to the Sith that inflicted them. The marks Dooku left would fade, but they hurt just as bad. He wondered if Kenobi were as strong as Dooku, though he suspected he must be, if he wasn't stronger. It was no wonder the Jedi hadn't been able to beat them.
"You are weak," Dooku said calmly, circling the man and keeping his lightsaber pointed at Vos. Quinlan looked over to see his weapon laying halfway across the arena, the saber having been disarmed a moment earlier by a quick flick of the Count's wrist and an ill-timed thrust by Vos. With a groan, he tried to rise, only to find Dooku's red blade sliding easily under his shoulder blade and out through his chest. He shuddered, gasping in pain and dropped to the compact sand of the ground, but the pain didn't stop. The saber remained imbedded in him, the tip pressed deep into the ground and effectively skewering the Kiffar.
"Don't beg," Dooku growled when Vos looked like he was about to speak, a deep whimper escaping his tight, pained throat, and he began chuckling softly, devolving into a fit of coughing as he shook his head.
"Wasn't going to..." Vos choked, one eye closed and looking up with a faint, pained smirk on his lips. "Wanted to ask if you'll kiss me when you're done penetrating me."
"Do you think you're funny, Vos?" Dooku snarled, drawing his saber out of the convulsing body, looking in disdain at the coughing Kiffar. "Enjoy it. It won't last. The Dark Side will drive that from you."
"We shall see..."
Dooku scowled, casually held up his hand, and struck Quinlan with a barrage of blue lightning that arched and crackled along the man's body, wracking him with pain and causing him to writhe, his jaw clenched tightly to keep from screaming, but furious grunts of pain escaped his throat regardless. The torment continued until Dooku's attention was drawn to the heavy doors opening, his dark eyes narrowed at the newcomer who had no business being there. Only a select few had access to this area, and the Mandalorian that strode in was not one of those few. The red and black helmet was removed to reveal a clone, the standard issue armor replaced for the armor of the Shadow King of Mandalore, and the torture stopped, Vos collapsing against the ground in a pained and panting heap. The clone approached slowly, observing the half dressed man on the ground, then smirked at Dooku as he saluted.
"What are you doing here," the Count demanded, and the clone held his head up higher. "You have no right to be here, no access."
He held up a card with a superior smirk. "Master Kenobi gave me his access card. He said you'd most likely be here, and he would like to remind you that Quinlan Vos is his apprentice, and if you hurt him too badly, it will be much more difficult to bend him over and take him. Sir." From the ground, Vos began to laugh, gasping between pained breaths, but laughing none the less.
"And how did Lumis suspect this was happening?" Dooku snarled, highly agitated, but deactivating his saber and clipping it back to his belt. The clone just smirked.
"He says his connection with Vos runs deeper than any ocean, so close is their bond." He paused and looked at the man on the ground, sand sticking to his bare and sweaty chest. "...also, he suspected it would take less than four minutes for you to grow dangerously irritated with him."
"Ha!" Vos shouted from the ground, trailing off and wheezing as he began to cough. "Well the joke's on him, it took five minutes!"
"No, Lumis had the right of it..." Dooku growled. "Surely he is not so petty to send his commander back here to talk at me. He knows the palace is mine, and so long as he leaves me to babysit his pet, I will do as I wish."
Cody bowed, a gesture that appeared mocking, and would have been taken as such if it was from anyone else, but all of this particular clone's actions appeared to be derisive. It came from spending so many years as Lumis' right hand, an affect of rank and nobility that the clone did not deserve, but the younger Sith Lord always held a soft spot for the man and spoiled him. "As you say, my Lord," the clone said. "He sent me to tell you of his current status." He stood up taller. "Teamwork and communication are the keys to a successful revenge strategy, he said."
Dooku groaned in irritation, but his posture relaxed and his temper eased. Vos sat up, his arms shaking with residual pain as he looked up at his tormentor. It seemed that, despite his apparent anger, the Count was concerned for Kenobi, and the news from him was welcome. "Report then, clone, and begone with you." A wry smile crossed over Cody's face, and he folded his hands behind his back.
"The rogue Jedi Barriss Offee has surrendered to the Dark Side."
Dooku arched an eyebrow. "So soon? She was meek and timid when she arrived, I had thought she would need more time."
Cody shrugged. "My Master is very convincing, and Mustafar seems to have that effect on those he brings there. Lord Kenobi always says that there is something about fire that is liberating. He freed me and my brothers there as well."
Dooku scoffed dismissively. "He could have done that anywhere."
"Perhaps, but he says the Dark Side is strong there, and I believe it, considering the monsters he has made in his laboratories." V os looked curiously between the clone and the Sith Lord. He hadn't seen these laboratories they spoke of in his brief stay in Kenobi's home, but he assumed they meant the Twi'lek males he had seen, hulking, massive beasts with fangs and claws and long, spiked protrusions coming out of their spines.
"It is true that his palace draws the Dark Side to it," Dooku said softly, his hand stroking the white beard on his chin.
"Regardless, Barriss Offee is ours. She needs a few more days in the palace, but she...is not to be underestimated. She has taken to the darkness like she was made for it."
"Has she?"
Cody whistled. "I've seen it. The girl is quiet, but she has a particular talent for murder and perversion. She's made gibbering fools out of a few of my men as well, which is not easy to do."
Vos chuckled deeply as he pushed himself up from the floor and stood relaxed next to the Sith Lord. "Has she? As if killing six Jedi and hundreds of people in an explosion weren't enough. Luminara would be appalled."
"Master Kenobi said so as well," Cody said, a smile on his lips as he observed the dirtied, bloody state of Obi-Wan's best friend. "He doesn't believe he can make Luminara fall, though. Barriss doesn't seem to think so either, but he's keeping his options open, and requests that we attempt to capture her so he can give it a shot, at the very least." He crossed his arms and scoffed, rolling his eyes and looking at Dooku with a bored expression. "Honestly, Count, can't you give Vos a shirt or something? He isn't much to look at."
"That's not what you said last night, my sweet," Quinlan drawled, leaning in toward the clone, who simply smirked and did not back off.
"You must be mistaking me for one of my brothers. Last night, I was with Obi-Wan Kenobi..."
"Is that all?" Dooku snapped at the two men, idiot grins plastered on their faces, and Cody quickly cleared his throat and resumed his perfect posture.
"No, my Lord. Master Kenobi reports that he is changing the attack plan on Kessel." Dooku frowned and motioned for the man to continue when it looked like the clone might stop, his eyes drifting toward the ground as if he didn't want to complete the rest of the report. "He's diverting half the force to Makeb. He believes a two front assault will keep the Jedi off of him, and he wants to examine Skywalker's priorities. He can't defend both places at once, and the fleet is large enough to burn both planets."
"Wait, burn them?" Dooku gasped, his jaw slightly slack. "I thought-" He was interrupted by the clone raising a hand.
"He was, and now he's not. Insanity took him, and being around Mand'alor Bo-Katan isn't helping things. She...stokes the flames, as it were." Cody shrugged. "It isn't too bad, honestly, but it makes conversation difficult. Unless, of course, you want to talk about burning billions of people to death. He's a great fan of that at the moment."
"Your Master," Dooku snarled, "is gripped in the fury of the Dark Side, driven to absolute madness by grief, and you want to make light of it?!" Cody shrugged.
"I don't know anything about the Dark Side, but I do know about Master Kenobi, and right now, he's as insane as they come." He sighed heavily. "However, we all saw him eat a few days ago, and since his trip to Coruscant, he at least knows he's completely mad. Let's not forget that a week ago, he wanted to burn everything. Every planet, every system, every person, himself included. And now he just wants to burn two." He grinned broadly. "And Hutt Space. That's a vast improvement, and I'm taking anything I can get right now."
"That means nothing if he's still burning entire planets!" Dooku snapped, his voice raised and angry. "Our Master summoned him to Coruscant when he burned Ord Mantell to stop him. Destruction had never been the point, and it's all Lumis cares about."
"The destruction of the people that murdered everything he cared about," Quinlan said defensively. "I don't see a problem with this."
"There were four billion people on that planet, Vos!" Dooku growled dangerously, and a moment later, the Kiffar bit his lip and looked away. "Their lives mean nothing, but their deaths are senseless."
"I disagree," Cody said softly. "A planet burns, and suddenly the entire galaxy pays attention. Everyone fears the Mandalorian wrath, and even the criminal syndicates are beginning to try and appease them, and if fire burns away his madness and brings him peace, so be it."
"And yet, the burning continues," Dooku said. "Ord Mantell is inhabitable because of Lumis, there is a wound in the Force scarring the system. Billions of lives screaming before they were silenced echoed through the Force so strongly that I could feel it happen on Raxus." He scoffed, but the Count looked worried. "This has shades of Katarr, this is Darth Nihilus all over again."
"One would think you'd be more pleased then," Cody said, slapping the perturbed man on the back. "Relax. Sure, he burned Ord Mantell, but it was only a massacre on Oba Diah. And yes, maybe Kessel and Makeb will burn as well, but by the time he turns his eyes on Hutt Space and Nar Shadda, where he can cause some real damage, I'm sure we'll get a grip on him."
"Your confidence is inspiring," Dooku said, brushing the man off and rolling his eyes.
"When we get back from Kessel, we'll get good and drunk and I'll have Shaak Ti pleasure him into unconsciousness. He'll be back to himself in no time." The satisfaction of his master plan fell away when he saw Vos staring at him, wide eyed and slack jawed. "What."
"Saesee Tiin said that Kenobi had Shaak Ti captured..." the Kiffar said, breathless and amazed. "But I thought his memory had been altered, and I didn't see her on Mustafar." A sly, sinister grin crossed over his face. "So it's true that she's-"
"Don't get any ideas, Jedi," the clone growled, his finger poking against a red welt on the Kiffar's chest, and Vos hissed in pain. "She is mine. All mine."
"But you just said-"
"And my Master's, if he so wishes." He shrugged. "Who knows, maybe it will be better to take him back to Coruscant. He said something about having a mistress there now, and he was improved after seeing her." He smiled softly. "We'll get him right again. It's just going to take time."
"And revenge," Vos said softly, his focus drifting away, and the clone nodded.
"Yes. And revenge."
With a sigh, Dooku decided that the rest of the day could be counted as a loss, so far as punishing the belligerent Quinlan was concerned. He turned to leave, but was stopped when the Kiffar's strong hand wrapped tightly around his arm, the yellow eyes almost crazed, the Dark Side suddenly swelling to a crescendo. "I feel it," he said softly, a cold chill running through a voice too quiet, too calm for the passionate Kiffar. "Ventress. She's here."
As soon as the loading droids began unloading the cargo transport, the bounty hunters attacked. Boba Fett pulled his Mandalorian helmet over his head as he turned to remind Ventress in a harsh tone that she had fifteen minutes to get in and out, and if she weren't back on time, they'd leave her behind. Ventress had no doubt they would. She and Ahsoka sat crouched behind the Slave I, and when Fett and the other hunters had attracted the attention of the droid guard on the grounds, the two Force sensitives quietly snuck into the loading bay, empty in the commotion, and slipped into a service tunnel that would take them deep into the reaches of the palace.
She had lied to the bounty hunters, yes, but she didn't feel bad for it. She needed the help to rescue Vos, and nothing else mattered. Of course Dooku would be here, and of course he would come to defend what was his. It would be worse if his apprentice was here, of course, but she, Vos and Ahsoka could handle them in an escape. It was another matter entirely if Kenobi was here, but she'd rather not think about that. For now, she felt alive, burning with power lent to her by the Force in her hatred of Dooku and by something else, something warmer and unidentifiable that she felt for Quinlan. She would get him out. The cost didn't matter, so long as he was free, and once again together with her.
Ahsoka remained silent beside her, grim in her determination, her bare feet making hardly a sound as they sprinted down the dimly lit corridors. Ventress didn't need the light to know where she was going, and she quickly took a sharp turn into another corridor, much more narrow than the one they had branched away from. Slowing to a jog, then a silent walk, the two women kept pressed against the walls, straining to hear the sounds of droids clanking on their patrols of the area, but they could hear nothing. With a deep, calming breath to still her jumpy nerves, Ventress pulled Ahsoka with her through a door and into the wide halls of Serenno's dungeon.
The two women pressed themselves against opposite walls, hurrying on swift, silent feet as they looked into each cell, some filled with unfortunates captured during the war for one reason or another, but most remained empty. There was a time when the dungeons here were nearly full to bursting, but that had been when Obi-Wan lived here, before he had established his death trap of a palace on Mustafar. When he had left, he only opted to bring his most valuable prisoners, and the rest had been executed in a series of training exercises that Ventress had taken part in. "One's skills cannot be honed," Obi-Wan had once told her, "if not practiced on the living." And so she did, and did so often. He had been right, of course. Each death brought her closer to darkness, closer to ultimate power, and she had craved it. But it was never enough, and that craving had nearly destroyed her. And now, she felt that Vos may be in the same danger.
"Ventress," Ahsoka whispered, clutching her arms and rubbing them against the chill that seemed to permeate through the bones. The Dark Side was strong here. It had always been. "Is there another part to the dungeon? He's not here."
She shook her head, staring at the wall of the dead end before them. The long hallway that twisted and turned underneath Serenno's palace was the only dungeon present in the Count's luxury estate. After all, the ancient home had been built for nobility, not for the housing of criminals. It wasn't the labyrinthian maze of cells and torture chambers present in Obi-Wan's Mustafar palace. "This is it," she whispered. "Maybe I was mistaken, maybe Kenobi brought him to Mustafar after all..."
"Ventress." Both women quickly spun around, hands on their lightsabers and ready to ignite them when they saw him. Quinlan Vos stood in the middle of the wide corridor, his head bowed, his eyes closed, his robes crisp and clean over his shaking muscles, and Ventress had to reach out a hand to grab Ahsoka's wrist when the young Padawan gave a strangled cry of relief and desperation and started to run toward her Master. Something was wrong, and that something was made apparent when Ventress looked at her lover's trembling hand and saw a lightsaber clutched tightly in his clenched fist. She felt a cold pit drop in her stomach like lead, felt the chill of ice run through her veins. She knew that lightsaber. It was one she would never forget, the first one she had collected from the field of battle, the first Jedi she had slain. Master Tholme.
Quinlan knew.
"Ventress, let me go!" Ahsoka shouted, prying at the other woman's firm grasp, but Asajj pulled her back, her steel grip tight. "Master!" the Padawan yelled, extending a hand toward Vos, her heart pounding in her chest. Vos didn't seem to hear her.
"Ventress," Quinlan said again, his voice a low, poisonous hiss, as if each syllable were contemptuous to him and left a foul taste in his mouth. "You are a liar, and a murderer!" The rush of blood in Ventress ears was so loud, so pounding that she could barely hear him. Even the struggling Ahsoka went still, and Ventress could feel the strong pulse in the Togruta's wrist suddenly seem to stop, and then begin again so quick it nearly hummed as the two women looked at the Jedi Master, his eyes glowing a fierce yellow in the shadows of his face.
She couldn't take her eyes away from his face, cold and twisted with anger, hatred radiating off of him like heat, the once soft, warm brown of his eyes stained with the yellow and red fury of the Sith. She had done this. It may have been Kenobi that struck the match, but she had started the fire, fed the flames until it blazed within this former Jedi. She taught him the Dark Side, yes, but that wasn't it. Vos would have come to it on his own, but this...they were going to use the Dark Side to destroy the Sith, and it seemed like now, he had joined them. Dooku lived. The war would continue, and all because Asajj Ventress had lied to him to stoke the flames.
"Master!" Ahsoka cried, wrenching herself from Ventress' gasp and rushing forward, but stopping a moment later when the lightsaber in Vos' hand ignited a brilliant green. She shook when Vos' eyes fell on her, and she held up her Master's weapon in a hand she tried and failed to keep steady. "Y-you lost this," she stuttered, a small, nervous smile on her lips, and Quinlan looked at her with a mixture of confusion and longing. There was a spark there, faint and nearly indistinguishable, but Ventress could see the shadow of his old self inside the man that stood before them.
"Ahsoka..." Quinlan said softly, his voice warm and rich and loving and the girl trembled, biting her lip as she tried to keep the tears away. He extended his free hand and the lightsaber the Togruta held in her open palms rose and drifted to Vos' waiting grasp. "Stay out of the way, my Padawan," he whispered as the second green blade thrummed to life and the furious gaze drifted back to Ventress.
"This isn't you, Vos!" Ventress cried desperately, her raspy tones quivering with emotion and fear thick and deep as the Dark Side that sat heavy upon Quinlan's shoulders.
"This is exactly me!" he shouted, the blades extended and crossed out before him. "It's exactly who I want to be! You gave me this cup, Ventress, you made me drink from it!"
"You are stronger than this!" she shouted back desperately, looking out of the corner of her eye at Ahsoka, who seemed to be struggling with that to do. "You know the dangers of the Dark Side, you know what it can do if you reach too deep!"
"As do you!" he snarled in return. "I've seen it consume you, I've seen you kill my Master."
Ventress sucked in a sharp breath, her gaze not breaking away from the enraged man as he slowly advanced. She had nowhere to back up to, and time was running out. They had to leave. "I couldn't tell you, Quinlan!" she said, her voice trembling, he back flat up against the wall behind her. "You needed the right motivation to spur you against Dooku, to give you ste strength you needed! And then we became closer, and...a-and I was afraid to tell you the truth." Those gold eyes narrowed, and she could feel the pulse of darkness around him grow stronger, and she could barely hold back the tears that threatened to fall. This was a good man, and she made him into this. "I was afraid I would lose you if I did!"
Vos stopped his advance, and the tips of the green blades wavered. He was listening. "No," he choked. "You never cared about me. You used me, helped to turn me into a weapon so you could finally slay your hated Master. You aren't strong enough to do it on your own, you needed me!"
"Don't fool yourself, Vos, you came to me!" she said frantically, her palms flat against the wall behind her. "You would have gone anyway and you would have gotten yourself killed! I taught you what I did to save you! A-and if I didn't care about you, Ahsoka and I wouldn't be here now, risking our lives to save you."
There was truth in that, and Vos could feel it, could sense it not just in Ventress, but in his Padawan as well. Ahsoka wouldn't lie to him. But Ventress...
He shook his head to clear the notion. Ventress was a manipulator and a deceiver, and he wasn't the first man she had betrayed. She turned her back on Obi-Wan as well. "You are lying!" he shouted, pointing the blade toward her chest. "Everyone warned me about you, and I was too smitten to listen to any of them! That was your plan, wasn't it!?"
"No! It's true the Dark Side has made lying...easy for me, but I turned away from all of that!"
"Did you?" Vos asked coldly, his heart pounding in his chest. "You lied to me! You told me it was Dooku when you knew you're the one that killed Master Tholme!"
"I know what I did was wrong, and I'm so sorry, Quinlan!" She choked and couldn't continue when she felt wetness on her cheeks that spilled from her eyes, but the man stopped too, a longing, almost tender look in his eyes. "I never meant to hurt you like this! How was I supposed to tell you the truth?"
"You should have trusted me," Quinlan whispered, his blade lowering slightly, and for just a moment, Ventress was given the space to breathe.
"You're right..." She said softly. "And I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all of it."
"Master..." Ahsoka said softly, stepping forward carefully, her hands out in a calming gesture as if she were approaching a wild, angry animal. "Please, come home."
"We can be together," Ventress added when it looked like the man would lower his weapon. "Just like we wanted. If I could change the past, I would. Please, all I want is a future with you." The yellow eyes that were roving over her suddenly narrowed, and there was a sharp whip of the Force, a sudden spike of cold that told her she had said the wrong thing.
"That," he said softly, "is the biggest lie of all." She barely had time to activate her lightsabers before the green blades slashed down on her, the strong, heavy strokes sending sparks flying as they clashed with her red. He quickly reeled around, cutting straight across toward her neck in an effort to sever her head, Ventress ducked under the blades and they connected with the wall, leaving long, molten scars in the dark metal, and with a howl of rage, he turned on Ventress and charged her. She barely had time to dodge, and the frantic calls from Ahsoka alerted her to the urgency at which they needed to leave. Their time was nearly up. They had to go.
"Vos, you can control this!" she tried again, frantic as she began to retreat, swinging her blades to block each aggressive strike that seemed to grow faster and stronger the longer he went on, the more his wrath grew, and Vos showed no signs of tiring or hearing her frantic cries. Ventress, however, was putting everything she had into her defensive, trying to direct Vos with her retreat, which was proving to be difficult under the relentless assault. She was trying to do too much at once, defend against the flurry, keep her focus, lead Vos outside to where the bounty hunters were, try not to hurt him, while Quinlan had no such obstacles. His entire focus was dedicated to killing her.
She slipped, on what, she couldn't say, and tried to dodge out of the way, but she was too slow, and Vos too powerful, too fast to be stopped. Both blades descended, and when Ventress thought it was over, the green blades of the Padawan darted out to protect her, making a small circle around the Master's weapon and opening his guard, sending him off-balance for a fraction of a second while he recovered his balance, but it was enough for Ventress to leap to her feet.
"Stay out of my way, Ahsoka!" Vos shouted, and young Tano bit her lip, her blades held defensively before her, and she shook her head.
"No, Master. Not this time. I can't watch you murder someone else."
With a howl of fury, Quinlan beat his lightsabers against the Padawan's green, and taking a cue from Ventress, began to retreat, leading the enraged man out toward the landing pad. They needed help, and the bounty hunters could give them the aid they needed to subdue the raging man. They just needed to get him outside.
"There is nothing but treachery in the Dark Side, Quinlan!" Ventress said as she blocked the arching blades, she and the Padawan beside defending the other from the wild, vicious strikes.
"You taught me that!" Vos snarled. "Obi-Wan showed me the truth, he showed me what you really are!"
"Did he tell you who sent me to kill your Master?" she asked, reaching across to catch his blade as it angled toward Ahsoka's head, allowing the girl to safely duck out of the way.
"I won't hear anymore of your lies, Ventress!" He attacked harder, faster, his rage driving his power to terrifying new heights, but she couldn't stop. He wouldn't see reason, not now, but she would make him hear the whole truth of it. The blades clashed and locked, and he pressed hard against her, and for the first time since her hurried retreat, Ventress pushed back against him.
"It was Kenobi," she whispered above the hiss of the lightsabers, and for just a moment, she felt Quinlan waver as doubt and confusion wormed its way into him. The golden eyes narrowed as the notion died within him, but Ventress knew how the Dark Side worked. The idea, the doubt had been planted. If they could just get him to the ship...
She was suddenly thrown back, her temporary lack of focus costing her as Vos pushed out with the Force, sending both her and Ahsoka flying backwards, the two women striking metal so hard it bent on impact and caved in, the heavy doors leading out to the loading bay flung open wide when the women and the Force crashed against it. It was painful, terribly so, but a moment later, Ventress was on her feet, her lightsabers deactivated and back on her waist as she pulled Ahsoka up, and the two women took off running. The additional space was welcome and entirely necessary, and both women were fast and agile. They could keep ahead of Vos if they didn't delay, the few extra seconds enough to mobilize the bounty hunters to take stunning shots at the enraged Kiffar. If he was on the ship, if they could just talk, if she could make him understand, Ventress knew she could pull him back.
They didn't look behind them as they sprinted out toward the Slave I, the bounty hunters already gathered around it, the ship's engines already roaring and ready for take off. They knew Vos was behind them, and knowing how close would only serve to make them more nervous when the situation called for focus. All hunters remained on the ground outside the ship, taking cover and shooting back at the droids that were slowly closing in, but nobody seemed to be paying the droids much mind. They had their attention elsewhere, and Fett stood on point far out before the other bounty hunters, his blaster rifle raised and shooting short burst volleys and shouting almost frantic commands at the others. Fett almost seemed...concerned, which struck Ventress as odd. The boy, though young, was rarely nervous about anything. As she rushed closer to them, she began to shout for them to help her with Vos, to divert their fire away from the droids and help her forcibly save the renegade Jedi, but she stopped, almost skidded to a halt when she saw what Fett was so concerned about.
The Mandalorian stood before them, his armor painted black as night and red as blood, his movements graceful and experienced, and for a moment, Ventress thought it was Kenobi. He was fast, strong, stood the same height, so far as she could tell when compared to Count Dooku, the towering Sith standing close and defending the Mandalorian warrior from the rapid suppressing fire of the bounty hunters as they slowly advanced. As they drew closer, the Mandalorian's blaster rifle raining hell upon the hunters, Ventress saw that the armor lacked the distinctive patterns and markings of Kenobi's armor. This was Cody, his clone commander, confirmed a moment later when the man drew a lightsaber from behind him and the blade ignited brilliant blue. The presence of Cody could only mean one thing.
Kenobi wasn't far off.
"We have to run!" Ventress shouted to the hunters, and a few of them looked behind them to see her sprinting toward the ship, and immediately turned their blasters and aimed in Ventress' direction, opening fire as she passed on Vos, the Kiffar immediately stopped by the rapid fire, forced to deflect and his movements slowed considerably as he loudly cursed. With the fire divided, their enemy slowly began closing in on them, and the hunters got the message that it was time to run. The mission had failed. Ahsoka and Ventress rushed forward to help cover the hunters shooting at Dooku and Cody from the clone's returned fire while Highsinger ran onto the Slave I. When the ship lifted off the ground, the hunters ceased their fire and sprinted toward the extended ramp as the ship lifted off.
When Ahsoka and Ventress' feet hit the ramp, they turned, sabers raised and ready to cover their escape when their eyes widened as they watched the blue lightsaber cut the barrel of Boba Fett's rifle in two. The Togruta nearly jumped back down to the ground to help, stopped only when Ventress grabbed her arm in a bruising grip and refused to let go. The young bounty hunter, closest to the thick of the action, hadn't been fast enough to get away, and when he turned to run now, igniting the jetpack on his back, he only got a few feet off the ground when the rockets sparked as they were shot by the clone, hissed their objections, and exploded, throwing the boy violently back to the ground. He tried to get up, clearly dazed from the impact, and was forced back down to the ground by Cody's boot, the clone leaning his weight on the boy's chest to keep him pinned, his lightsaber pointed directly at the T-shaped visor of his father's helmet.
As they gained altitude, the two women watched Vos come stand by Dooku's side, lightsabers in hand and watching the ship calmly, coldly as they left. Vos could not be saved, not today, and nor could Boba Fett, a fact made very clear by the bounty hunters when the Slave I's alarms began to blare. Serenno's defensive cannons had locked on to them. The ramp closed, and the ship bolted away from the palace and out of the range of the powerful cannons, and Ventress and Ahsoka sat huddled in the hold, silent and wondering what to do next.