Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Seed or Star Wars. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not created with a commercial aim. It is not for sale or rent.
Phase 1: The Dark Side gets a vote too
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Part 1
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Time: unknown
Place: unknown
The last thing I could clearly recall was engaging Republic fighters above Korriban. They swarmed around the local defense fleet and battle stations in orbit, barring my way to my flagship. The Force screamed in warning, and then… all I could perceive was the Dark Side. The dark seductress was furious, shacking and roaring – a far cry from the constant sweet whispers in the back of my mind, which had been my constant companion for decades.
Living shadows moved like a curtain rising, showing me unfocused visions. Sith and other Darksiders fighting Jedi and each other. More often than not, they tore themselves apart no matter what other enemies they had.
This was the same madness that threatened to engulf the Empire if we didn't stop it as soon as the Republic was no longer an existential threat. What I saw was infuriating. It meant we would fail or perhaps already failed.
The visions sped up, becoming a blur underlining an endless string of Darksiders self-destructing again and again until the very end. I was suddenly in a familiar setting. I saw Sidious cackling like a maniac, doing his best to fry Luke Skywalker slowly while Vader watched. It was a scene I've seen many times in another life played once again.
This was supposed to be the moment of triumph for the Dark Side, only for Sidious' arrogance to prove his downfall and, with him, that of the latest incarnation of the Sith. Right at that moment, when the Dark Lord of the Sith died, and Anakin Skywalker briefly clawed his way out of the darkness, the culmination of a thousand years of plots by a Sith cult and the Dark Side itself was for naught.
The Dark Side didn't like that. I was in the eye of the storm as it raged in a way I had never felt before. Ultimately, for all its successes and victories, the Bane line failed catastrophically. What awareness the Dark Side had focused on me. I could sense it study and evaluate me.
The Dark Side around me shifted, showing me a different vision. The battered remnants of a Republic task force violently tore out of hyperspace, caught in a planet's gravity well. The Force rippled like water, and now I could see into the bridge of a heavily damaged cruiser.
A man wearing brown armored robes picked himself off the deck and raised his head, revealing a familiar face I loathed. He was Jerrod Perrion, the Hero of Tython, and more recently, the Jedi whose strike force killed the Emperor.
I could feel the truth of that vision. The bastard was still alive and well, which simply wouldn't do.
The vision rippled again, showing me Perrion and his wife Kira, meeting people I had only seen in dreams or a life I had left behind a lifetime ago. Yoda was easy to recognize. Palpatine, too, as they greeted a group of displaced Jedi and Republic soldiers. The other Jedi were vaguely familiar, though I couldn't remember them after all this time.
The vision froze, this time giving me a good look at Perrion and Palpatine side by side. It was clear the Dark Side didn't particularly care about the Jedi. Sidious, on the other hand? Her champion who failed spectacularly, what ending the Jedi for good was within his grasp? The Dark Side was furious with him.
For once, it was crystal clear what she wanted. Perrion was a bribe. Sidious and the Jedi gone was what the Dark Side wanted, and I was to be her instrument.
My right hand went to touch the armor above my heart, where I could clearly feel the void left after the Republic and its Jedi murdered Ashara. Perrion was one of the few high-ranked Jedi who knew and authorized that operation.
He was also the only one still alive.
The Dark Side knew this was a bargain I would happily accept. It wasn't hard to summarize that whatever happened either got me killed or propelled me in a time that wasn't my own, ensuring I lost everything save for the vengeance the Dark Side now offered me.
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Sith Interceptor
time: unknown
location: unknown
One moment, I was engulfed by the Dark Side's cold embrace. The next, I got a glimpse of hyperspace before sudden deceleration made the dampeners of my fighter struggle and pushed me back into my seat. The Dark Side sang around me, gleefully announcing to the galaxy that her new champion just arrived. She was also generous enough to give me a moment of warning that had me accelerating and pulling up so I wouldn't smear myself into the prowl of a massive warship covered with weapon emplacements.
Tractor beams came to life and caught my fighter.
"Unknown vessel, identify yourself," A mechanical voice came over my comm.
For a moment, I hesitated, wondering how to introduce myself. The Dark Side pulsed as if trying to reassure me.
"Lord Vael, Dark Lord of the Sith. You are not an Imperial or Republic vessel. Who am I speaking with?" I demanded in a cold tone.
"Uh-oh…" the droid mumbled. The sound of shattering metal came over the comm.
"We will bring you into the main hangar. Then we will see if you are what you claim," A different voice announced. It was clear that whatever throat it came from had been damaged and not adequately healed.
"Impersonating something like me is a death sentence."
"I like your audacity, stranger. Let us see if you can back up your bravado."
A turret rotated and aimed at my fighter. I could sense no danger; a moment later, it was clear why. I caught a glimpse of two Ion bolts before they slammed into my ship and disabled its systems. Whoever was in charge of that enormous ship was taking no chances, something I approved of.
Of course, bringing me on board instead of vaporizing me wasn't the smartest thing to do, especially after I proclaimed my allegiance.
Tractor beams slowly guided my fighter into a cavernous hangar, giving me a good view of the warship I stumbled upon. It was even larger than I thought – the largest warship I've ever seen. This could take on a whole fleet and shatter it in short order. It was vaguely familiar, like a glimpse from a mostly forgotten dream.
The situation's silver lining was tiny – I had a couple of minutes to gather myself and ensure that I could use my fury as fuel and focus instead of letting it rule me.
This ship, my visions, and the Dark Side's glee all pointed to the same conclusion. Everything I'd worked for for a lifetime was now gone. It was infuriating, and the Dark Side liked that. I could hear her seductive whispers about vengeance and ruin that would make me feel better… and this was one of the times I had to agree.
The tractor beams brought my interceptor into a cavernous hangar. It was chock full of fighters and vehicles of designs that were straight out of my rare visions of the distant future or what I watched so long ago in another life.
There were droids, too. At least a battalion of them. Most were… beige colored? Those things were flimsy-looking, though expensive advanced materials might make up for the light construction. Others were much larger silver machines, with weapons obviously built into their arms. The last point was clear because at least a hundred were aimed at my fighter. Eight droids of a different model rolled like wheels before unfolding into a more familiar turret-like configuration, aiming heavier weapons my way.
That was a lot of firepower aimed my way. Once upon a time, even thinking about taking on it in a straight-up fight would have been a suicide. Now? I opened my mind and body to the Force, particularly the Dark Side. She was vicious and eager to be unleashed on anything, even if those droids weren't the objects of her fury. I wrapped myself in a Force shield that would disperse and absorb incoming firepower before manually opening the cockpit.
My vantage point gave me a good view of a hunched armored figure walking past the gathered droids, followed by a squad of the larger, silver ones.
"The self-proclaimed Sith," the cyborg declared when he came to the front of the droid battalion.
Perceiving him through the Force was fascinating. He was a bundle of pain and anger that would make any Sith proud and interested. I could feel the touch of the Dark Side upon him. Someone, either Sidious or Dooku, had their claws into this being.
"I can sense the touch of a Darkisder upon you. Who do you serve?" I demanded, pointedly ignoring all the weapons aimed at me.
"You are in no position to demand anything!" He snapped. Anger and offended pride radiated from the cyborg.
"You let a Dark Lord of the Sith on your ship. You should be aware that your little toys would barely slow me down if I wanted you dead."
"You are mad then," the cyborg scoffed. "Kill him."
The Dark Side warned me before he could give the order. My arms snapped up, unleashing two waves of pure Force energy aimed to barely avoid the cyborg. The first droid ranks flew away, slamming into those behind them, the deck or vehicles. A gesture threw the cyborg into the air. Before he could fall or more than a handful of machines opened fire, I channeled all my fury into a wave of Sith Lighting that engulfed everything before me.
This wasn't meant to torture and slowly ravage my targets. I was out for blood. Droids screeched as their internal components melted. The few blaster bolts that came at me splashed harmlessly over the Force shield protecting me.
By the time the cyborg landed on the deck on his arms and legs, looking so much like a metal beast, the droids in the area were little more than piles of smoking scrap. Two yellow, slit eyes stared at me in a mixture of anger and fear. With another gesture, I picked up a hover tank and used it to smash what few droids survived my onslaught. The cyborg looked warily at my handiwork.
"I dislike repeating myself. Who is your master?"
The cyborg slowly rose. His arms and legs twisted, giving him back a proper humanoid posture.
"I am General Grievous of the Confederacy of Independent Systems…" he began.
I could sense he loathed that name… it wasn't his real one, was it? And he was no Force Sensitive, much less a trained Force Adept.
"That is not your name. Your feelings betray it. Introduce yourself properly, general, and give me the name of your master," This time, I reinforced my words with the Force.
The cyborg flinched and shook his head.
"I was Qymaen jai Sheelal," the cyborg growled. "General Grievous is all that is left!" He spat those words with an impressive amount of venom. "I serve Count Dooku."
"I've never heard of him. We should talk, General Sheelal," I slowly walked towards him. "Unless you want me to scrap more of your little toys, I suggest you recall them."
The cyborg flinched at my use of his proper name. The mix of emotions radiating from him was very curious indeed.
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Part 2
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Malevolence, General Grievous flagship
unknown system
"Your mind is clouded, General Sheelal. You let your pain and anger rule you," As I said, my mind touched the fingerprints left by whoever had been messing with him.
It wasn't a crude work - it was clearly recognizable. Whoever had been influencing Grievous had no worry that someone else might have the knowledge or capability to recognize what had been done. It was either that, or they didn't care. I was sure the likes of Zash would have been able to undo the not-so-subtle indoctrination pushing this creature to be an angry brute. Giving him a closer look through the Force revealed all the cybernetics linked to his brain. The use of the Dark Side might have been merely a secondary means of control. That made things more complicated.
While, given some time, I could undo the foreign influence. Until then, I would juggle a live bomb that could blow up at any moment. I needed to contact Dooku and turn him to my way of thinking first before ensuring Grievous was a useful asset.
Sheelal shook himself and glowered at me. He was like a baby Darksider. It was almost cute to watch him seethe.
"Lead the way, General Sheelal. Let us speak with this Lord Dooku of yours," I gently pushed with the Force, using the Dark Side. I could sense how my suggestion flowed through the 'fingerprints' left on his mind, further reinforcing the suggestion.
I had to reevaluate the skill level of whoever did that. While still somewhat crude, it was done in such a way that would make it easier for Darksiders to influence the General, and at the same time, doing the same by a Jedi would be much more complicated. They would have to first overcome what was done to Grievous and the traces of the Dark Side clinging to his mind to have a prayer of influencing him. Unless it was done by an expert over a prolonged period of time, any attempt by a Jedi to fix Sheelal would end up frying his brain. Whoever subverted him was clearly not worrying about a Darksider playing with their new toy. Otherwise, they wouldn't have left Grievous mind so open… if they knew precisely what they were doing anyway. Thanks to Zash, I learned more about messing with people's minds than most would ever know, even if I lacked the natural aptitude for such disciplines.
Sheelal struggled with his emotions and what parts of his mind told him he had to do before finally relenting.
"Follow me," Grievous ground out. The General turned around with a flair, letting his cloak billow behind him, and marched towards the far end of the hangar.
"Your droids?" I pushed.
"They will behave until Count Dooku orders otherwise," Sheelal hissed and stomped away.
I followed him, letting my mind drift through the Force, thus extending my senses and awareness. I could sense the energy signatures of countless droids everywhere, though there was no feeling of immediate danger. They weren't gathering for a sneak attack wirelessly ordered by Grievous or a paranoid subordinate.
Curiously enough, the cyborg and I were the only organics on the ship I could feel. We got to an internal rail line, which was a testament to this vessel's size. It was fast, too. It took us a few minutes to get to a turbolift that brought us to the bridge. The only crew here were those beige, flimsy droids.
"Contact Count Dooku! We have a complication he must know of!" Sheelal barked.
"Roger, Roger!" A bunch of droids chorused. A few of them glanced my way before returning their full attention to their stations.
I focused on an image projected by a large holotank. Surprisingly enough, the quality wasn't much better than what I was familiar with, which was odd. This was supposed to be the distant future, yet barring the size of the vessel I was on, I was yet to see something out of the ordinary. If anything, everything I was seeing was too familiar, just like what I saw in my Force Visions or recalled from my previous life.
The tactical plot raised more questions than it answered. This colossal vessel, which had to represent a tremendous investment of resources, had no escorts. There were no patrolling fighters around it. The only friendly presence in the area was a few units scouting a nearby debris field.
Was Sheelal that arrogant and incompetent, or was this due to how much his mind was messed up?
The holographic image flickered, broke up, and reformed into an old human man with an awesome beard. He wore expensive dark robes and a displeased expression.
"General Grievous, report," the man demanded, clearly irritated.
If he was a Sith, he hid it well. Then again, the same was true for many others a lot of the time, and me, too, for that matter.
"Count Dooku, I ran into an odd stranger claiming he is a Sith Lord," Grievous pointed an accusing finger at me.
Dooku's head slowly turned my way, and he stared at me.
"Preposterous! You are wasting my time with such claims?" Dooku demanded.
"He wiped out a droid unit with Sith techniques, my Lord," Grievous lowered his head in deference. "I am sending you security footage from the hangar."
"I didn't give him much choice, Count Dooku. That is not a Sith name. Who are you, really, Count?" I asked lightly and let the Dark Side freely flow through me. My eyes glowed with power in a way that should make anyone clearly aware of what I was.
Dooku's gray eyebrows rose, doing their best to disappear in his carefully maintained hair.
"I should be asking that question…" He trailed off and looked away. His mouth twitched as he watched a recording of my handiwork. "I revise my statement. You are a Darksider, a powerful one, there is no doubt about that. But a Sith? There have been only two for a thousand years. I am one of them, and you are not my Master. I am Darth Tyranus."
"I am Darth Vael, Dark Lord of the Sith, and a Member of the Triumvirate, serving the Sith Empire. Or I was until I ended up in this… time."
"The Butcher of Olderon?" Dooku's composure cracked for a split second. His eyes narrowed at me, and he carefully studied my face. "There's a resemblance with ancient records I've seen. However, your claim is insane! He died at Korriban in the last days of the war between the Sith Empire and the Old Republic."
"I was fighting above Korriban, heading for my flagship. The next thing I knew, I was exiting hyperspace and barely avoided crashing into your General's ship. If you are a Sith Lord like you claim, Darth Tyranus, you know I am telling you the truth."
The Dark Side rippled in amusement. I could sense Dooku drawing on it, trying to divine the truth. Slowly, his eyes became glowing embers as he used the Force and the bridge provided by the communication system to figure out the truth about me.
"I can't be sure of your full claims about your origins, Lord Vael. However, you are a Sith, not a mere Dark Jedi. There is no doubt about that," Dooku nodded. "General Grievous, treat our guest with the utmost courtesy until I can meet him in person," He looked back at me. It was clear that admitting being mistaken or letting his temper overrule good judgment was unpleasant. "My apologies, Lord Vael. In this day, the Sith are nearly extinct. Your claim should have been an impossibility. I look forward to properly meeting you and discussing the present situation."
"I've foreseen some of it. I have had visions about the distant future all my life. However, I thought them useless until recently: " My admission obviously took Dooku aback. "We need to discuss the present and the future, Darth Tyranus. Preferably before your Master decides you have outlived your usefulness. After all, why would he be content with you when he can have the Chosen One as Apprentice?"If nothing else, now I had Dooku's undivided attention.
"General Grievous, your mission is now suspended. Bring Lord Vael to Raxus Secundus so I can meet him immediately!" Dooku ordered.
The Dark Side sang in malevolent pleasure at this development.
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Part 3
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Council Chamber, Jedi Temple
Coruscant
Two brief meetings to ensure everyone was on the same page and confirm they were really dealing with Jedi displaced in time made Yoda feel all his years. Due to the strain of the war and the sudden arrival of the Old Republic Jedi and soldiers, plans had to be altered at the last moment. Only Yoda and Windu remained from the Council on Coruscant, with other members leaving to take charge of the Clone armies they were supposed to lead.
In a few days, when the war permitted, as many of the Council would meet, though the Chamber would feel painfully empty. Then, they could properly discuss their new guests and what their arrival meant. Until then, Yoda and Windu had to investigate and find as many answers as possible.
"I could sense the touch of the Dark Side upon them. They are all troubled and exhausted," Mace frowned.
"A lifetime of war they endured," Yoda's ears drooped in regret. Now that he had a stark reminder of what a war could do to the Jedi, he doubted his decision to join the conflict more than ever. Yet, with the Sith orchestrating the Clone Wars and Dooku leading the Separatists, the Jedi scarcely had a better alternative.
Dooku was one of their own. His fall and the continued existence of the Sith was a failure of the Jedi. Compared to some conflicts in the distant past, there could be no argument that the Jedi were blameless about this one. They were responsible enough and had to protect the Republic from their mistakes. And there were many mistakes that Yoda could readily admit.
"Great darkness they vanquished. Left its mark, the Sith Emperor did. Rest they need. Peace they require."
"They were almost like weeping wounds in the Force," Windu grimaced. "I have never sensed or seen anything like it."
"Help them we must. Our duty it is. Heal they must. Darkness claim them must not!" Yoda declared with utter conviction.
"At least that much should be within our power. This is not their war. It would be the height of foolishness and arrogance to demand of them to fight our war and fix our mistakes," Mace agreed.
"Convince them of this, we must. Headstrong they are. Accustomed to war and conflict, they are. Peace we must offer."
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Vigilant, Old Republic cruiser
high orbit above Coruscant
Supplies, medical assistance, and engineers – that much this new Republic and its odd Jedi offered without a second thought, and Perrion was glad for it. They also had access to this time's holonet, though there were glitches due to the ancient systems they had at their disposal.
The Jedi and Republic military would be meeting in a few days to decide exactly what they would do with the temporarily displaced people, giving the Jedi Master time to figure out what they were dealing with.
It was a relief that the Republic still existed, even if it wasn't their Republic. They all feared that it would be all over by the time their damaged ships crawled to Coruscant. Ultimately, it became clear that the counter-offensive that finally gave them an opening to strike at the Emperor had been a trap. Even their assault upon the cloaked fortress above Dromund Kaas had been facilitated by that bastard Vael and his cronies.
Instead of finally winning the war and ending the Sith for good, the Republic suddenly was on the precipe of annihilation with its finest fleets and armies baited and trapped, fighting for their lives. Under those circumstances, Perrion and the survivors of his strike team barely fought their way out of Imperial space and raced towards Coruscant for what might have been their final stand.
The world they arrived at was pristine, untouched by war, yet… The Jedi Master closed his eyes, letting the Force calm him down and guide him.
This was a strange time they found themselves in. The Jedi Order was odd, to say the least; the Republic was at war again, and the Sith were back. At least, their Republic had survived, if barely, because the Sith Empire consumed itself after a military victory it failed to capitalize upon. Vael had been gone for thousands of years, so a galaxy without the likes of him was something to look forward to.
Those were good news, yet not all was well in this new day and age.
"You can feel it, can't you, dear?" Kira walked in to stand beside Jerrod. "The Dark Side is covering everything like a blanket. It wasn't this bad even when the Sith were at their most powerful. The Dark Side feels… happy? That is never a good thing."
Perrion sighed. For all his accomplishments, he wasn't a model Jedi. He had his brushes with the Dark Side. He even used it in anger over the atrocities of the Sith, and if it wasn't for Kira being his anchor, he would have been damned a long time ago. The reverse was also true. Due to her connection with the now thankfully gone Emperor, she was intimately familiar with the Dark Side. If that by itself was enough to safeguard people from its poisonous touch, they would have been safe.
It never was that simple. The Dark Side was always there, always offering power in exchange for pieces of your integrity. And often enough, in war, you had no choice but to feed it with your military actions. Doing anything less meant that the Sith could win, which was worse. Yet, that meant every Jedi fighting was on a slippery slope to damnation, and too many fell.
That the Dark Side was happy after they arrived in this future was an ill-portent. Perrion focused on it, experiencing its chilling yet alluring touch. Kira was right, as usual. The Dark Side was rippling in a way he could only describe as eager. Were the Sith of this era so dangerous that the Dark Side was glad they had Jedi like his people to test themselves against? That was concerning because after meeting the Jedi's Grandmaster, Perrion wasn't impressed. For all his age and experience, this Yoda wasn't forged in war. The same was true for the person who might very well have been the current Order's blade master. They reminded him of stories of how the Jedi were before the Sith Empire returned.
The Order was relatively new then, reforged after its virtual destruction in the Mandalorian Wars and consequent Jedi Civil War. It had been full of fresh Jedi untouched by conflict. In some regards, they were better for it, yet in Perrion's experiences, they were a very different kind of Jedi compared to those who were raised and lived their whole lives under the constant threat of the Sith Empire.
"Jerrod, you need to look at all the information we are gathering about this Republic and the Jedi. It is raising all kinds of concerns, and this is just what we can get after a cursory search in public records," Kira warned. "I have a suspicion as to why the Force brought us to this time and place in the future, and you aren't going to like them."
"I have my suspicions, too. Let us see where the Force will guide us."
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Part 4
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Patriot, Providence class Dreadonought
high orbit above Raxus Secundus, CIS capital world
Count Dooku waited in the hangar, wearing simple black robes of a high-quality armored weave that could protect against even a glancing hit from a lightsaber. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he held his wrists tightly to make sure they were still intact.
Yesterday, after speaking with Grievous and the self-proclaimed Sith Lord the General ran into, Dooku spent hours doing his best to divine the truth. The Dark Side was more than obliging in a way it never had been before. Dooku knew it mocked him for his short-sightedness and foolishness. The truth that his visions revealed undermined everything the former Jedi believed he was, and everything he had been working for even before Sidious showed him the 'truth.'
Nearly a day later, Dooku's hands still felt phantom pains. He experienced one of the visions as if he were their body and soul. Feeling his arms sliced off by Skywalker was like shoving them into molten metal. The Dark Side ensured the phantom pain would remain with him for a long while as a reminder.
The burning pain in his wrists was a distraction Dooku could ignore. It was nothing in comparison to the one in his very soul. Dooku could appreciate the way he had been deceived since the beginning. However, that only made his fury burn hotter. He had never been Sidious' Apprentice. Was he even a Sith at this point, or merely an old fool of a Dark Jedi?
Everything Dooku was for just over a decade now had been a sham. It all led to a singular point along Skywalker's path to damnation – his first cold-blooded murder. Dooku didn't know if that was true, only that his future self believed it in his last moments. It made sense. After all, it was hard to argue that Skywalker was blessed by the Force. His potential was incredible, equal if not greater than Sidious'.
The damned thing was Dooku should have foreseen this possibility after meeting Skywalker for the first time. If he wasn't distracted, if he paid more attention…. If he hadn't already been Sidious' hound doing that bastard's bidding… If he hadn't been a blind fool….
Now, thanks to that strange Sith and the Dark Side, Dooku knew better. He was surrounded by fools, traitors, and incompetents. More than a few of those only showed masks to the galaxy to see, while they were Sidious' creatures. Now that Dooku was fully aware of his place in the Chancellor's plans, he was sure there were agents he knew nothing about in place to observe him just in case he went off script. In hindsight, his position might be less secure than he believed it to be. That had to change, and soon. He was going to need reliable allies.
Grievous might be one. A few of the more competent Separatist commanders who were to be carefully managed and sidelined might be of use, too. Some of the Confederate Senators who weren't Sidious' creatures had potential.
But first, he had to judge who and what Darth Vael was. That Sith's intervention and the shift in the Dark Side already changed his fate. That much Dooku knew, and he was not so far gone to be ungrateful.
One of the things the former Jedi did since he found out the truth was delve into all the archives he had access to, looking for information about Vael. There wasn't much that had survived within the Sith archives. Vael had been an infamous Sith who lived thousands of years ago. His best-remembered actions across the galaxy were those at Onderon, where he earned one of his titles. The Sith naturally knew more about him, painting him as a dangerous individual and a founding member of the Triumvirate that fought and nearly won the civil war that ended the Sith Empire. Sadly, that conflict and everything that followed in the thousands of years separating the Old Republic-Sith Empire wars wasn't kind to records. There was likely more information sealed within the Jedi Archives and vaults. However, they were out of reach for the time being.
One thing that gave credence to Veil being who he claimed was the extraordinary event that happened on Coruscant two days ago. The arrival of a few ships from the end of the war Vael fought in after being presumed destroyed for thousands of years… The Force was moving, changing things. Was Vael's arrival the Dark Sides's counter-move to the Jedi's arrival? There were countless questions Dooku needed to answers for.
Finally, a single shuttle flew into the hangar. Dooku could see the Droid pilots looking around before landing it near him. Its rear ramp opened, and Grievous stomped out. A figure walked after the cyborg. The Dark Side surrounded it similarly, yet differently to how Sidious felt when not hiding his nature.
"Lord Vael, welcome onboard. I am Count Dooku, the Confederacy of Independent Systems leader," the Former Jedi formally introduced himself.
"Darth Vael, Dark Lord of the Sith," the Sith tilted his head to the site. "Not Darth Tyranus?"
"What the Force revealed to me since we last spoke makes me wonder if I ever earned such a title of a Sith name. I was to be a disposable pawn," Dooku grudgingly admitted. "You were right."
"Once upon a time, I was supposed to be a disposal asset in a war," Vael's burning eyes stared straight into Dooku's soul. "Yet, I became one of the most powerful Sith in the Empire," Vael frowned. "An Empire that had been gone for a very long time. It seems that we both need to become something else now if we are to prosper."
The Dark Site shifted around them, whispering, waiting in hungry anticipation. Dooku felt that depending on how this meeting went, everything could change for the better or much, much worse. Examining this Sith through the Force, he reached a simple conclusion. If he was the best Jedi he could be, he might have stood a chance against the Sith of old. If he was a proper Apprentice, one who Sidious taught everything he knew over the past decade, he might have had a chance.
As he was now, it didn't matter. Dooku knew he was not in control of his anger. His doubts were eating at his very connection with the Force. The Dark Side showed him the truth, and it broke something in him.
"You appear to be sane enough after finding out the truth. I can work with this," Vael concluded after they had examined each other for a few moments. "Focus your anger. You know who is to blame. Use it as a fuel and don't let it control you," The Sith advised.
Dooku took a deep breath. It was odd and amusing for such advice from a Sith. The Jedi wouldn't believe it if they heard it. However, Vael was right. Here and now, all the anger Dooku experienced wouldn't serve him. He needed a clear mind. Anything less could spell disaster.
"Let us retire to more comfortable accommodations to discuss our situation and the future," Dooku offered. He could use the time to gain as good control over his bursting emotions as it was going to be possible. "General, come with us. This conversation is going to concern you as well."
Grievous glowered but followed, saying nothing and stomping all the way.
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Part 5
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Patriot, Providence class Dreadnought
high orbit above Raxus Secundus, CIS capital world
Dooku observed the Sith through the Force on the way to the flag officer's quarters. Darth Vael's presence was a rippling, barely contained storm of darkness. Its edges washed over everything and everyone in its vicinity. The brush of the Dark Side felt like a cool, somehow happy breeze to Dooku, which should have been a contradiction.
In his experience, it wasn't hard for a Darksider to be happy, even if that wasn't an emotion that fueled them. But for the Dark Side to feel that way was something different. Its very nature was bound in fear and hatred. At least, that was what both Jedi and Sidious taught him.
Dooku knew for a year now that the Jedi were not misguided at best and blind at worst. Now, he knew Sidious was a lying liar who lied. So, what else was he wrong about? What other deceits did he suffer?
The Count did as advised and focused on his anger, fueling the Dark Side. At the same time, he did his best to clear his mind. This wasn't a time Dooku could afford to let his emotions betray him, no matter how justified his fury was.
They finally reached the flag officers' quarters meant for a fleet commander, their staff, and VIP guests. Dooku led the Sith and Grievous to a small meeting room in an exclusive and ruinously expensive hotel that wouldn't be out of place. He slowly gestured to his guests to choose a seat and did so himself.
In Dooku's opinion, the room's highest point was the sinfully comfortable chairs, which did wonders for his back. He was nearly a hundred years old now. Even with the Force allowing him to act and often feel like a man half his age, his back and joints often hurt.
Dooku sat lightly, positioning himself so he could surge forward, ready to defend himself or attack at the first hint of danger. He noted with approval when Grievous did the same.
Vael, on the other hand, crossed one leg over the other, making himself comfortable. He steeped his fingers as if he had no worry in the world. In the Force, there was no mistaking the Sith's amusement at the situation. There was no hint of it if he was wary of being alone in their presence.
Dooku watched Vael's demonstration on board the Malevolence. The Sith of old might be arrogant. However, he did have the skills and raw power to back it up. He might be able to take on the two of them and survive, though that wouldn't help the man if things turned sour. They were in the heart of the Confederate space, surrounded by legions of droids, a powerful fleet, and strong orbital defenses.
At worst, a treachery here and now would see them all die quickly.
However, for the time being, that was likely a moot point. Dooku could sense the Sith's power, yet he could detect no hint of threat or hostility.
"Such doubt and uncertainty, I sense in you, Count Dooku. If you were a Jedi and my aim was to turn you, this would be an excellent development," Vael stated with infuriating calm. He wasn't gloating or taunting, which would have been easier to handle. "As things stand, that combination and your anger are not useful."
Dooku's fury flared up at those words, though he did his best to wrestle it back under a semblance of control. To the side, Grievous bristled but otherwise remained silent.
"When feeling only anger in our connection to the Force, then we know the Dark Side. Is it not a fundamental requirement for being a Darksider, much less a Sith?" Dooku inquired. If nothing else, the perspective from an ancient Sith would be interesting to experience.
"That's technically true, which can be the best kind of truth when you want to deceive someone so they would do your bidding without even realizing it," Vael spoke in a contemplative tone.
Dooku could sense no hint of deception in his words or general bearing, for what that was worth.
"Anger, fear, hatred, they all feed the Dark Side. For a Sith who hasn't been subverted by their power, those emotions are nothing more or less than sources of fuel. We are not Jedi. We do not serve the Force, much less the Dark Side. It is our tool and weapon," Vael's eyes glowed with power like pools of boiling molten metal. "The Dark Side either serves us, or we have failed. Our emotions are tools that should not control us. If we fail to control them, we become little more than rabid beasts under its influence," The Sith pointedly glanced at Grievous, who didn't miss it and glowered back.
What Vael spoke of made sense and wasn't so different from what Sidious taught him. They were supposed to be masters of the Dark Side, using it to gain vengeance against the Jedi and the corrupt Republic. Yet, the difference was there, and it was subtle. Dooku could clearly sense it yet couldn't grasp it, which was vexing. Vael didn't state it outright, though he hinted at it as if teasing him with knowledge.
"When you are experienced enough and know enough, you shouldn't need crutches like fear and anger to channel as much power as your body can handle. They would make it easier, requiring less concentration so you can spare more for the task at hand," Vael offered.
The Force trembled. There was no shift in the Sith's emotions. If anything, he was calmer than most Jedi. Yet, the Dark Side erupted around him like a hurricane powerful enough to wreck a continent. Despite the bright lights in the compartment, shadows rose from its corners and below the furniture as if alive. The temperature nosedived, making the environmental system strain and whine audibly.
Dooku bathed in the full glory of the Dark Side as it threatened to engulf him whole. This was raw, unbound power worthy of any Sith.
A pained wheeze reminded the Count that Grievous was still there. The Dark Side vortex surged briefly before collapsing on itself, and there was just Vael, calmly looking at the General. Grievous was shaking due to ice covering the armored carapace containing his remaining flesh. The same was true for the walls and ceilings, where unnatural hoarfrost rapidly evaporated. At the same time, hot air erupted from hidden vents.
"I wish to learn more about what it truly means to be a Sith, Lord Vael," Dooku voiced his decision. He was in a position where Sidious and the Jedi were now his enemies. He needed an ally powerful in the Force and, more importantly, a knowledgeable one. However, what the Sith was ready to offer him and the war effort remained to be seen.
"And I wish to learn more about the war I found myself entangled in after I ran into your General. I also hunger for vengeance. Let us bargain, you and I, Count Dooku."
"My treacherous Master, if he ever had a claim to such a title, needs to pay. The Jedi, too, for their treachery."
"Oh? How did the Jedi betray you, Count Dooku? Your anger at them is crystal clear yet unfocused," Vael noted. A sharp emotion cut through the calm surrounding the Sith as if to make a point. It was hatred so potent it was suffocating, yet it was focused like a blade a single molecule thick.
Dooku could taste the texture and potency of the emotion. He could compare it to what he felt to the Jedi, which gave him pause. The Jedi Order was a failure. It betrayed itself, its principles, and the Republic. However, why did he loathe it with such intensity while it remained unfocused? The Sith was right to question what he sensed.
"Sidious!" Dooku spat. His head hurt, and his connection with the Force pulsed uncontrolled as he thought about the Jedi and all the conversations he had about them with his former treacherous Master.
"We have much to discuss indeed," Vael sighed and looked at Grievous. "General, would you be accommodating enough to give me a strategic overview of the current situation while our host gets to grips with a few revelations?"
=RK=
Part 6
=RK=
Patriot, Providence class Dreadnought
high orbit above Raxus Secundus, CIS capital world
I watched a holographic galaxy map, showing me a Republic much vaster than the one I remembered. At the same time, the space, industry, and resources of the Confederacy dwarfed what the Sith Empire had when it launched its war of vengeance and conquest.
We were in the war's opening months, with both sides busy mobilizing and reacting to the start of the conflict.
A few things were immediately apparent – neither the Republic nor the Confederacy had a coherent strategy. My allies-to-be were busy flailing at anything in range while a few of their smarter commanders were pushing to establish protected links between four major blobs of CIS territory that grew like cancer within the Republic. That, at least, was useful and smart.
From what Grievous managed to growl to me, the Republic was busy attempting to disrupt Confederate operations and defend any world directly struck. Nationalized System Defense Fleets formed the bulk of the GAR Navy, with Clone-operated ships acting as the core of fleets. The same was true for the enemy's ground forces.
Notably, the navies and armies of the most powerful Republic members were not nationalized, likely because they got a vote and had the strength to say now. Corellia was out of the war, citing ancient laws. That was extremely useful because, at this time, the system was one of the largest shipbuilding centers within the galaxy.
Technology and society had advanced in scope, if nothing else, as demonstrated by the vast fleets I could see on display, both friendly and enemy. They dwarfed those I was familiar with, yet the galaxy had been in an unprecedented millennia-long peace until now. Military-industrial complexes were just now beginning to spin up after such a long slumber.
"How long before the Republic fully transitions to war footing? How long does it take its largest shipyards to build a cruiser? Which are the key industrial centers in this age?" I asked.
How much time did we have to win the war before the Core's larger economy, industry, and population ensured we would be buried by men and material?
Grievous stared at me with unfocused, uncomprehending eyes. I could sense his all-consuming anger he barely kept under a semblance of control. Pain, frustration, and fury drowned everything else, robbing him of much of any military acumen he might have had.
"You see something?" Dooku stirred and asked. He was still a source of tasty, confused, and conflicting emotions, which he did his best to chain to a burning pillar of determination.
"It is what I don't see which worries me most, Count Dooku. I see no trace of a coherent strategy. I can see no hint of operations shaping the battlefield in preparation to cripple the Republic's industry. You should be throwing your fleets at key shipyards, industrial centers and hyperlane to choke the Republic's economy and destroy its greatest long-term advantage. Anything less guarantees that we will lose this war."
Dooku sighed in frustration and looked grimly at the hologram.
"The war was meant to be a sham. My Master controls both sides. This conflict was supposed to be a means to an end, and a Confederate victory was to be merely a contingency."
"WHAT?!" Grievous erupted and jumped to his clawed feet. His arms moved in a blur, dividing into two sets. He drew lightsabers from his cloak and ignited them. The cyborg's arms spun, turning the blades into glowing blenders.
"We have been deceived and betrayed, General," Dooku painfully admitted. "There is no strategy to win the war because we are not supposed to be winning it; merely provide a long-term credible threat until Sidious can complete consolidating power within the Republic and turn it into the first Galactic Empire."
I looked at Grievous, who was losing what semblance of sanity he had left. The Dark Side jumped at my command, and the cyborg froze. His arms screeched to a sudden halt, caught by a stasis field. The motors in them ground futilely against the firm hold of the Force. Grievous didn't have the presence of mind to shut them down but instead kept straining against the hold.
"Dare I ask what your Master put into his brain?"
"The cybernetics are affecting his brain chemistry, ensuring constant anger. Without it, Grievous would be more focused and be able to ask pointed questions about the prosecution of the war," Dooku explained.
"Is he a competent General otherwise? It would be a waste to remove him for being a rabid hound."
"The cybernetics could be replaced with proper medical ones to bring him back to his peak," Dooku pointed out.
"Are there any traps I should be aware of in his mind?"
Dooku looked warily at me. The question was evident in his gaze. So he didn't know.
I focused on Grievous' clouded mind. With the path left by Sidious and Dooku's manipulations, it was easy to slip in and put him to sleep. After that, I carefully let the General go, shutting down his lightsabers with telekinesis and ensuring they wouldn't activate after he slowly collapsed to the deck.
"It seems that our first point of discussion about our alliance should be how to handle the war effort properly."
Dooku grimaced and nodded. He fished out a communicator from his robes and called in a medical team.
Dooku spent the next few minutes filling me in on details of the strategic situation, like the vital one about Sidious having shut-down codes for the Droid Armies of the Confederacy. That was going to be an issue. I didn't think he would jump the gun and end the war early unless he absolutely had to. In that regard, we should have time to counteract the worst by ensuring each ship in the Navy had crews that couldn't be shut down, regardless of whether they were people or droids.
"We can't attempt to win the war or threaten to do so credibly before we ensure the integrity of our armies," Dooku concluded.
"We should use the time necessary to do so to shape the battlefield for offensive operations in the Core," I agreed.
"You will also need to prove yourself as a commander, Lord Vael," Dooku reminded me.
"I will do so when given the opportunity. Until then, let us focus on what we can do in the short term," I waved at the galactic map.
"Grievous' being out of action for a few weeks is going to be an issue," Dooku admitted. "He has been doing good work consolidating the various armed forces of the Confederacy's members. He was also supposed to carry out certain operations and fail in some of them."
"Anything of importance?"
"The testing of the Malevolence is still underway. Grievous was expected to go after a major Republic medical station treating at least sixty thousand Clones when complete. Destroying it would strike fear in the hearts of the enemy…." Dooku trailed off when I scoffed at him.
"What idiocy is this, and who thought of it? The next thing you will tell me is that most of your commanders aren't accepting surrenders, slaughter civilians and military alike at the first opportunity, and are atrocity happy for the sake of spreading fear?" I sneered.
Dooku's expression and his emotions were an answer enough.
It was a good thing that a bunch of droids had already carted Grievous away, and we were alone. My brief slip of control had the compartment shake and strain under the pressure of the Dark Side. I thought I wouldn't have to deal with any more of this kind of foolishness and madness. For Kriff's sake!
"What's next? False surrenders?" I couldn't help it and spat.
"That's the Jedi's thing. Kenobi and Skywalker won at least two battles that way," Dooku appeared taken aback at my outburst. It was painfully clear he wasn't aware of what the issue was.
Why did I have to be allied with imbeciles all the time?!