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Narglatch in Shaak's Clothing Chapter 8

66 BBY

The evening is a quiet one, and Dooku finds himself meditating in their sparse quarters beside his lanky padawan, who is copying his perfect lotus form. Conversely, Palpatine's presence in the Force remains unsettled and unfocused, bounding from one plane to the next. His padawan has never transitioned easily into meditation, and Dooku believes that his mind is far too active, too frantic to slow down and abandon conscious thought. The boy thinks too much, where perhaps Qui-Gon never thought enough. With every passing month, Dooku becomes more comfortable with the differences between the two, settling into a cautious acceptance of his new padawan's nature. Every day, Qui-Gon becomes a more distant, and yet still painful – Qui-Gon, don't! – memory. No… Palpatine must be his legacy now.

Three years now the two of them have worked together, traversing the galaxy in mission after mission (it gets Dooku away from the madness of Coruscant, although Palpatine revels in the planet-city's turbulent atmosphere). Three years now, and Dooku wonders if he will ever fully understand the boy he has taken under his wing. His padawan is intelligent and well-mannered, but he buries a large part of himself under the calm surface seen by all the other Jedi. Palpatine's mental shields are some of the strongest Dooku has experienced. The boy is growing now into a young man, awkward and long-limbed in the ruthless clutches of puberty, and Dooku suspects he will never be physically imposing. Will the master always tower over the padawan?

All appearances aside, the two of them are alike, far more than Dooku realized at the beginning. Sometimes this works to their advantage. In the heat of a tense mission, knowing each other's minds leads to instant decisions, to perfect collaboration. Palpatine's skills with his lightsaber improve constantly. His style fluctuates mainly between Juyo and Ataru. Sometimes, the blend grows so seamless that Dooku imagines the padawan is creating his own unique mastery. He spends relatively little time training compared to the other padawans, but his skill is twice theirs, and Dooku feels confident taking some of the credit for his masterful instruction.

Many times, Dooku has wondered at the strange simplicity of his padawan's lightsaber. The handle is smooth and nearly unadorned, with the faintest of curves along the handgrip and a simple rectangular pattern set into the hilt near the ignition. The finish is a dull alloy, the blade itself a pale green. Dooku once asked him about it in their first year together; Palpatine only shrugged and told him the weapon was good enough for his purposes, created when he was an undirected Initiate. The knight remembers the tilt of the head like yesterday: "It gets the job done, Master." Dooku thinks of his own elegantly curved blade and comes to the conclusion, something doesn't add up here. But what, he has no idea.

Palpatine shifts uncomfortably beside him, and Dooku slides one eye open in a gentle glare, fighting back a faintly sarcastic edge, purposefully ignoring the fact that his own mind has been wandering. "Harmony, Peace, and Serenity, Padawan. Surely, whatever you are pondering does not supersede these things?"

It has become something of a ritual, the solemn rebuke and the effort to conform, the padawan's presence muting in a desperate mimicry of true meditation. Tonight is different. Palpatine does not even try to reform his efforts, merely stares back at the older Jedi. His voice breaks slightly as he asks, "As a matter of academic curiosity, Master, have you ever heard of a Force-sensitive giving itself over to the Temple for training?"

Dooku arches his left brow. "You mean consciously reaching out through the Force to contact the Jedi Order? Without training?"

Palpatine looks away. "As opposed to purposefully concealing itself, I suppose…"

"Read this in one of your books?" Dooku rumbles, not displeased but drawn in by the unique question. His own mind begins to ponder, leaving behind his meditative state willingly. "The Jedi find the Force-sensitives, not the other way around. I believe an untrained Force-sensitive would be unable to cloak itself from trained Jedi in close proximity."

"But Force users exist who did not become Jedi," Palpatine says softly.

Dooku sighs. "In the more uncivilized sectors of the galaxy, where the Jedi and the Republic do not maintain a strong presence, yes. Among the less enlightened cultures that seek to enslave their own to dying traditions… If midi-chlorian counters are not used at birth, an occasional Force-sensitive slips through the cracks, though not due to its own machinations. Rather, the absence of order."

His padawan's eyes fix on him before closing abruptly and shutting away the startling suddenness of an emotion that Dooku cannot identify. Without a word, Palpatine renews his efforts to sink into his meditation.

The Jedi Knight stands slowly, disconcerted by the turn of conversation, feeling almost as though he has been dismissed from his own quarters. Ridiculous, of course. As he steps from the room to gather refreshment, thoughts of his own meditation abandoned, he catches a rare unprotected thought across the bond (something he could not have done even a year earlier) - …they would have walked right past…

Three nights later, Dooku can no longer restrain his need to know, and he makes his way down to the communications chamber and contacts the Naboo Early Education program in Theed. The assistant expresses polite confusion at his request but grants it anyway. No one in their right mind refuses a Jedi, least of all one of his recognized caliber.

Dooku views the recording in privacy, realizing that he does not know what to expect, and the realization is unsettling. He watches the images of two tall Jedi knights walking by the row of tiny awed younglings, smiling and ruffling the hair of the more friendly ones who reach out to them. One does not reach but stands stiffly in the second row, red-haired head tilting to the side, slivered pale eyes tracking the Jedi as they move past with gentle smiles, never once looking at the small face.

Dooku feels his heart skip a beat when he sees the eyebrows furrow in concentration, a thin small hand rising in silent salute, the two Jedi suddenly pausing their polite and disinterested farewells in the doorframe to glance back in surprise.

The air in the communications center is cold, and Dooku shivers.

Academic curiosity, indeed.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Every now and then in Darth Plagueis, young Palpatine seems to give faint indications of self-reflection, of self-awareness of his unique nature. It's a fascinating idea to play with. Of course, every now and then I get an Omen-esque vibe from the poor kid too.

Thanks to guest reviewer Bywater Dragon. Rest assured that Dooku grilled him pretty good on those visions after they returned, although it will be a while yet before the significance is revealed to them.