BBY 35
Count Dooku and his new padawan stood in silence, looking out the transparisteel windows of the Duchess Palace to the rest of Sundari City. Everywhere men and women went about their daily lives through the window on walkways and roads, like ants following a routine. Sunlight shone down through the city dome, illuminating almost every corner of the city in an off-blue color.
"You think they have a curfew?" Ventress asked. "Imagine trying to sleep, but some slimeball refuses to turn their light off."
"Stop." Dooku's voice was stern.
"...It's just there's no privacy, it's hard to believe they're Mandalorians."
Bass voice rumbling, Dooku turned fully towards her and growled. "Padawan, do a handstand."
Asajj looked up at him, shocked. "What?"
"Was I unclear? Handstand. Now, Padawan."
Asajj swallowed nervously, before doing as instructed. The Serennoan style long black skirt she was wearing would have fallen past her waist if she didn't use the force to suspend it in place. She remained balanced in that position, guided and sustained by the force, but her cheeks burned red with embarrassment.
Dooku eyed her sternly. "You are going to remain in this position until my meeting with the Duchess is complete. Understood?"
"Yes."
"Yes, Master."
Asajj swallowed. "Yes, Master."
"If someone asks you to move from this place, inform them that you are here because you must learn when to hold your tongue."
"Isn't that a little harsh?" A new voice asked them from behind.
Dooku turned to see a young woman, dressed in formal regalia with elaborate headwear of two blue wings sweeping up behind her head starting from a joint at the neck, flowers woven through her hair in rows, and a flat brown tiara that looked more like a skull cap that had a large brown pendant that hung over her forehead. If it wasn't for her absurd outfit she would have been strikingly beautiful with high aristocratic cheekbones, unblemished pale skin, icy blue eyes and platinum blonde hair.
Her outfit was obviously a poorly conceived attempt to distance herself from the traditional garb of Mandalorians, modeled on the style of Republic senators or other elected heads of state, like Naboo or Empress Teta. Perhaps it was intended to mark the beginning of a new tradition in the Mandalore sector, but ultimately all it did was make it seem like Duchess Kryze was ashamed of what she was; a mandalorian, and an autocrat who emerged victorious from a decade-long civil war.
"Duchess Satine." Dooku smiled, and bowed. "I see someone has taught you to shield your mind, or you would not have been able to sneak up on me." Her footsteps were surprisingly quiet, she must have had a good deal of practice.
"You are correct." Satine smiled. "I've heard that you taught my old protector, Master Qui-Gon Jinn."
"I hadn't realized we shared that connection. A small Galaxy, indeed." Dooku looked around at the room they were in. It was a small waiting room containing only a window, a table and some chairs.
"I'm sorry about this environment, I wasn't aware that you were coming." Satine looked around. "In fact, I was so unprepared that I haven't even eaten anything. Would you like to have lunch with me? This is only an informal visit, after all."
Dooku nodded. "Yes, that seems fitting."
"And your apprentice?" Satine glanced past him. "It does seem cruel to leave her like this."
"That depends entirely on her." Dooku glanced back. "Padawan Ventress, the Duchess has kindly offered you a way out of your predicament. Would you accept it, or would you complete your punishment?"
Standing upside down as she was, only the reflection of Asajj's face was visible in the transparisteel window. Her face set in a stubborn line, she grunted out, "Master, I will complete my punishment."
Satine shook her head in bemusement, but acquiesced. As the two of them left the room she murmured, "Jedi are strange indeed."
The two of them were accompanied by her bodyguards, dressed in beskar armor that notably lacked the traditional T-shaped visor. To Dooku they looked more ceremonial than anything else, with blaster tipped pikes and long capes that passed their knees. Compared to the sleek, efficient, and brutal mandalorian mercenaries of Dooku's memories, these royal guards seemed almost like a joke.
They arrived at a private courtyard near the top of the palace, its walls and floors opaque in contrast to everywhere else. Dooku assumed that this was a place built for a bit more comfort and privacy. The Duchess ate a sweet salad prepared by the kitchen, and the Count was offered a similarly vegetarian meal made of some kind of roasted tubers and root plants garnished with a sweet and slightly bitter shredded orange leaf.
"Duchess, if the Jedi are strange then the New Mandalorians defy all expectations." Using a knife and fork, Dooku cut into the tubers.
"I'm pleased you think so." Satine took a sip of wine, and regarded the Count. "So, what is it you wanted to speak about?"
"Jedi recruitment." Dooku explained. "It's been a while since there was a Mandalorian Jedi, and to my understanding, it's because no clan could ever be persuaded to give up its infants. My Temple has a different view on things."
"Different in what way?"
"I think that a more mutually beneficial arrangement is possible for the New Temple. Instead of removing infants from their families and never allowing them to return, there will be an arrangement where the New Temple provides Jedi training to those who would traditionally be seen as too old or too weak in the force by the Temple on Coruscant. Once their training is complete, they return to their homeworld or sector, to the benefit of the people there."
It took Satine a moment to think that through. "That's quite a different way of doing things."
"I envision my temple as less of a… federal security force, and something more localized. We will of course gladly draw in what force sensitive younglings we can to create a strong foundation for all our local branches to call on when they need to, but the day to day work of the Jedi would be managed by something of a local constabulary force. Instead of being a distant and alien entity that comes to enforce the will of an absent senate, my Jedi will be a part of the local community, and responsive to the needs of local leadership. And their populations."
He waited in silence for her to answer, chewing on his meal and enjoying a sip of wine. The silence lasted so long that he almost wished Qui-Gon hadn't taught her to shield her mind. It was a trick almost anyone could learn with a bit of focus and dedication, everyone having at least some level of force sensitivity. If the Jedi didn't hoard their knowledge, much of the Galaxy could benefit in minor ways from their teachings. Of course, it did make it harder to read people if they were guarding their thoughts and feelings, such as right now.
Satine seemed to be considering his words very carefully, keeping her face neutral and giving away nothing. Eventually, she finally said, "This is not something the Senate knows about, is it?"
"It's hardly clandestine. Why bother them when they're so willfully blind?" Dooku smiled. "How's your senator doing these days? Is he bringing in much aid for Mandalore's reconstruction?"
Satine was silent once again.
"Duchess, I think you've realized by now as I have that going to the Senate for help is a gamble at best. When fortunate, they won't make a problem worse. Most likely, all you'll be doing is signaling your own weakness to predatory special interests, who will then hungrily encircle you and your people."
"Is that not why you're here?" Satine spoke up, eyes flashing.
"No," Dooku said, firmly. "I'm here to offer you membership in a club… an informal federation of sorts. The Senate has no interest in the needs of the Outer Rim, let alone knowledge of it, and so I've built up a circle of friends, various Barons, Counts, and Dukes. Together we exchange favors and promises, bypassing the bureaucracy of the Senate and the courts. If your world requires agricultural development we can work it out, if you need manpower for construction we can find a way. If you need security but can't raise a Defense Force lest the organization of radical pacifists who put you in power decide to remove you, well… That can be arranged."
Satine made eye contact with him for a long time, trying to read him. "I didn't say I needed a defense force. Not to you, and not publicly."
"I certainly need one." Dooku replied. "This is the Outer Rim, after all. Have you ever been to Nal Hutta, by the way? It's a fascinating place. They have open air slave markets where they can easily put a price on anyone. You may be interested to know that ever since you took power, the value of Mandalorian slaves has gone down. They must have found an increase in supply, somehow."
Satine's face didn't change, but he could tell he hit home with that one. The idea that one's own people were being abducted and taken away in collars would offend anyone, let alone this soft hearted woman. Worst of all she knew she was responsible for it. The New Mandalorian movement which she rode to power would be furious at anything that even smelled of an army or their old ways.
"It's only an invitation." Dooku spoke softly. "No need to do anything but survey your options, for now."
"'For now?'"
"For now." Dooku affirmed. "If you won't participate in club activities, eventually you won't be invited back. Before you make any decision, why don't you come to a meeting? Once you understand what we're doing a little better, then you can choose to accept our offer, or…" His lip curled with distaste. "Place your faith in the Senate."
With their meeting concluded, he found Asajj exactly where he left her.
She climbed to her feet, wobbling slightly as her head swam from the rushing blood. "I will be wiser with what I say in the future, Master."
He regarded her. "Remember, it's one thing to make a mistake, and another to repeat it. Next time I will not be nearly as lenient."
Asajj looked worried.
Boundaries established, Dooku touched her shoulder reassuringly, and offered her a reward. "I have every confidence you will be an excellent Jedi. Now, let's go craft you a lightsaber."
Her happy smile reminded him of Tan'ya. Dooku mentally shrugged and walked away. Perhaps he was growing too soft?
Ky Narec sat in the pilot's chair of his parked freighter, lightsaber in hand. He stared down the barrel at the glittering tip of the kyber crystal that was just barely visible, knowing that this was exactly what he had taught Asajj not to do on the first day he started training her. Never look down the hole, unless the power pack was removed. If he just pushed the button he'd be dead in an instant, brain fried to greasy cinders before he felt any pain at all.
He sighed, lowering the lightsaber to start spinning it through his fingers like an oversized pen. Killing himself would tear little Asajj's heart to pieces, so he couldn't do that. It was too late for suicide. If he really wanted to end it all, his best chance was years ago, before he ever met his little youngling.
Dark secrets lurked in Ky Narec's heart, truths that he'd never shared with anyone. Maybe Dooku or Sifo suspected there was more behind his carefully built exterior, or maybe they really believed he was the laidback, caring man that he acted like. Narec didn't know, but he suspected that the Master of the New Temple, Makashi Expert, Count of Serenno and legendary Jedi Maverick just didn't care. If Dooku had taken even a moment to question Ky's story of being stranded on Rattak for a decade it would have fallen apart completely.
How could he possibly have been stranded on a world that faced near constant weequay pirate raids? As a Jedi Knight Ky was more than capable of boarding a ship, defeating its crew, and piloting it back to Coruscant. He had stewed on his excuses, trying to think of an explanation that wouldn't arouse suspicion, and the best he could come up with was that he wanted to keep Asajj safe.
The truth was that the only reason Ky the coward in hiding had accepted Dooku's offer to come with him to the New Temple was because of Asajj. The poor little girl didn't deserve to grow up in poverty because she was stuck with an awful adopted father. By the Will of the Living Force, she didn't even know that he was the one who killed her old master. The guy was a nasty slave owning piece of work, but she didn't know that.
Instead, it had been easier to again hide the truth like he hid on Rattak, and let the galaxy believe him dead.
It was fitting that he was a Jedi Knight of the New Temple. Dooku had been permitted by the council to ask for Knights and Masters from Coruscant to go with him, but had not ordered anyone to do so. The Count had managed to round up a mere ten who were willing; disillusioned weirdos, bitter idealists, and a few that Ky suspected were a lot like him, just hoping to be left alone in a backwards corner of the Galaxy.
Well, it turned out that Ky, now forty after his self imposed exile on Rattak, was one of the most experienced Knights in the New Temple. So he was basically in charge when Sifo and Dooku weren't around. Ky had been ordered to organize the knight's into search parties, and he'd done that. Now they were out, scouring the Galaxy for any force sensitive crazy or stupid enough to move to a cold, moldy mud world for a dangerous job that paid them with room and board, and almost nothing else. Jedi didn't earn a wage, they were servants of the Republic and the Living Force.
Well, Ky suspected they weren't likely to find many interested with a pitch like that. In this ship there were two: Him, and Priala Pric. He was there because he hoped Asajj could find some kind of decent future out here, and there's no way she would be accepted back on Coruscant.
In contrast, Jedi Knight Priala was freshly minted and just so excited to work for her personal hero, Jedi Master Dooku of House Serenno. Had he heard about the battle of Galidran? Of course he had, everyone had. Did he know that Dooku was the greatest duelist in the Order? Yes, he did, he promised.
Priala was a good kid, really. He envied her youth and optimism, but that didn't mean he wanted to spend time with her. No one at the New Temple seemed to want to either. They were all misanthropic and broken, and her sunny optimism rubbed everyone the wrong way. When the New Temple Knights had been organizing into pairs to survey the Galaxy for recruits, Prialla had been at the back of the room, standing apart from the others and desperately trying to make eye contact with someone, anyone.
Ky had felt sorry for her. Damn his soft heart, he beckoned her over, and they had begun planning an exciting trip all the way to the Galactic Rim.
Prialla was dark skinned, and short. Really short. The poor girl didn't even break five feet, and was whip thin too. She practiced her form II lightsaber techniques almost religiously, even in the limited space they had aboard their rugged old Correllian YT 100. The girl would have no hope as a duelist at all if it wasn't for her stronger than average connection to the force. Despite himself, Ky had offered her a few suggestions on how to improve. He could see how hard she worked, and hated to think that effort would go unrewarded.
Prialla was gone, leaving him to watch the ship alone. Currently, he was parked in the dock of 'Capital City', the forthrightly named capital city of Planet Lothal, which was at the absolute Outer Rim of the Outer Rim. Anything located further away from Galactic Center than this was practically open void for all intents and purposes. Just a whole lot of nothing until you burned out of hyper matter and got nowhere doing it.
They had only stopped here to check up on an old abandoned Jedi Way temple that was in the area, hoping maybe some young force sensitive had been drawn to it without understanding why. No such luck.
Now Prialla was out to get some fresh fruit for the next leg of their journey. Ky had a sweet tooth, but he also had to watch his waistline. He was getting on in years. They had plenty of supplies, but there was nothing like a nice bit of fresh fruit for a tasty, guilt free snack.
Where was Prialla? She'd been gone for more than an hour on what should have been a ten minute errand. He'd already tried calling her, but she must have had her holocommunicator turned off because the call hadn't even connected. Maybe he should try reaching her with the force?
He was just drawing his legs up under him to sit cross legged, when Prialla exploded onto the ship and yelled to the bridge. "I found one! I found a youngling!"
Ky was so shocked that he nearly dropped his lightsaber. He jumped up, hiding the weapon behind his back like a guilty child, and felt grateful that he long ago learned to shield his feelings from others even without thinking about it.
Prialla stepped onto the bridge, smiling with excitement and holding out a black rock in both hands like it was something precious.
Wait, no. That wasn't a rock.
"Prialla, what is that?"
"An egg." She beamed back at him.
"I can see that. Where did you find it?"
"In the tunnels beneath the city!"
"...What were you doing in the sewers?"
"I heard a voice crying out in the force, and that led me to this!"
"...You found an unattended egg in a sewer?"
"No, its parents were there, and they had other eggs! Big reptiles of some sort, sentient, though they didn't speak Galactic Standard or Outer Rim Basic."
"Then how did you convince them to give you this one?"
"We drew pictures!" She reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of children's coloring wax. "With these."
"Where did you find those?"
"Some kids give them to me after I used the force to get their ball off the roof of a tall building."
That raised even more questions, though Ky knew he was getting off topic. "So, giant reptiles living in the sewers just gave you this egg, which you believe contains a force sensitive?"
"No, sir."
"No?"
"They exchanged it."
"...For what?"
"Oh, just a trip to anywhere else."
She stepped off the bridge, pointing back down the corridor, and Ky followed her to find himself standing face to chest with an enormous bipedal reptile that had a wide mouth full of serrated teeth. He had plates of crudely made metal armor strapped to him with rough leather, and he stank like he just crawled out of a sewer. He also wasn't alone. There were three other of them behind him, each carrying a pair of eggs and looking about his ship curiously. All of them were armed with knives on their hips and rifles slung over their back.
Ky gaped, then reached over to pull Prialla aside. "Those are Barabels! They were probably hiding in the sewers because they murdered someone and ate them!"
Prialla gave him a disapproving look. "You have to be careful with that High Human thinking, Ky."
"...Right, of course. Yes, I see. The fault is with me, clearly."
"No need for sarcasm." Prialla held the egg out to him. "Look, see? The babe inside is Force Sensitive."
Half dreading that she was right, Ky reached out with the force to the tiny, sleepy, undeveloped mind that resided inside the egg. Ever so lightly he gave it a tiny tickle to the brain and after a few short moments he felt it try to bat him away sluggishly.
"By the Living Force, you're right." Ky shook his head with disbelief.
"See?" Prialla preened.
Ky glanced up at the Barrabels, before sighing. "I need to call the Count."
"So the egg is force sensitive."
"Yes, Master."
"And it will only cost you delivering its parents somewhere else?"
"Well that's the thing, I'm worried that they're criminals, and I'm not sure how much they understand the deal they struck with Knight Priala. They don't speak Standard or Basic, and we don't have any kind of translator."
The Count breathed out through his nose. "Very well. Bill me the cost of a protocol droid."
"Are you sure?" Ky asked. "Those are expensive out here, we're all the way at Lothal."
Dooku didn't even know where that was. "I'm sending you my billing code now, any Banking Clan outlet will accept it."
"Uh, okay, I guess we could use one for the Temple anyway." Ky shrugged.
"And the Way Temple?" Dooku asked. "Is it still there?"
"Yes, Master." Ky replied. "Uh, I think it hasn't been used in a long time, though. Hundreds, if not thousands of years."
"All the better." Dooku replied. "Send me its coordinates now." Orders given, Dooku cut the connection.
Seated just behind him, Padawan Asajj was leaning out past his shoulder to watch the conversation happen with a look of fascination. "Can you really just buy a new protocol droid? How wealthy are you?'
As Dooku looked back at her, he commanded, "Padawan, correct your posture."
Asajj blinked for a moment, before leaning back up straight. "Like this?"
"Yes, shoulders back, chin slightly raised." Dooku demonstrated. "Don't stare, either. Mouth closed, unless you're speaking. Unless someone else raises the topic, do not discuss credits or cost. That is beneath us."
"Yes, Master." She stood as instructed. Her corrected posture combined with the new clothes he purchased for her gave the impression that she was nobility, instead of an off-system slave someone happened to find.
Dooku looked away. "Learn to return to this pose. Good Jedi are formed with good habits. As for the price, Knight Ky was correct. The Temple was going to need one anyway."
Asajj nodded in understanding. "And… is Lothal where I'm going to get my lightsaber?" There was a note of anticipation in her voice.
"It is."
His padawan looked positively giddy at that. So far, Dooku found that compared to Qui-Gon, Asajj was much more emotive, and if there was one thing Ky hadn't really taught her it was composure. Though she was well trained with a lightsaber and strong in the force, Ky had been too indulgent with her. She was a lot more cheeky and excitable than most padawans he knew from Coruscant. He would have to teach her how to present a respectable face to those outside the temple.
His holopad beeped, and Dooku took it out to discover his wife was calling.
"Hello, wife." He greeted with a smile he couldn't quite help. "How are you?"
"Good, husband." She paused. "Well, I spoke to the nurse droid today, and it's not very bad news, but they told me the baby has stopped growing."
Dooku trusted his wife to understand the particulars of childbirth, and often nodded along whenever she described the different stages of fetal growth or the technical words that came with something as simple as breastfeeding. At this moment, Dooku wasn't sure he understood the significance of the fact his child wasn't growing so close to birth, but to ask what that meant would reveal how little of his wife's maternity babble he understood.
He was saved when Asajj asked, leaning over so her head was just in the call. "Oh, no. What does that mean?"
Athemeene looked surprised at the youthful face that was now being projected at the very edge of her hologram's emitter, but answered the question anyway. "It means that my placenta has stopped providing the baby with nutrients, and if we don't induce the birth sooner rather than later, they could die."
"How long do we have?" Dooku demanded.
"The nurse droid wants to start inducing tomorrow."
The Count checked his chronometer, which was set to standard time and Serenno Palace. "That's nine hours."
"Can you make it?" Athemeene asked, sounding anxious.
"Of course we can!" Asajj answered.
"Uh, I'm sorry, but who are you?"
Sighing lightly, Dooku answered. "Athemeene, meet my new padawan, Asajj Ventress."
"Oh, like Qui-Gon?"
Dooku nodded. "Exactly like Qui-Gon."
"Well, I look forward to meeting you in person, Padawan Ventress." Athemeene said to her. "But I need to talk to my husband for a moment, if that's alright?"
"Oh, I'm sorry." Asajj pulled away so she was no longer in the call.
Much to learn, indeed, Dooku thought to himself. He said to his wife, "We're just coming out of the Mandalore sector onto the Salin Corridor. We can be back at Serenno in just a few hours."
Athemeene breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, call me as soon as you breach atmosphere."
"I will." Dooku promised.
"I love you."
Aware that he had company, Dooku hesitated for just a moment before saying in a low voice. "I love you, too."
After hanging up, Dooku turned to the droid pilot. "Change course heading. New destination Serenno palace."
"Confirmed." The droid buzzed.
He leaned back in his chair, feeling anxious despite knowing he'd be home soon. Even though his padawan was shielding her mind he could still feel her gaze on his neck. "Something to say, Padawan?"
"No, no, not at all." She answered, voice cheerful. "It's just that Ky had always told me that the Jedi aren't allowed to marry, and that was a sacrifice I was willing to make to be a knight, but… Well, that did always sound lonely to me." Her voice turned wistful. "It's great to know in our Temple, marriage will be allowed."
Being honest with himself, Dooku hadn't decided on whether to allow his knights to marry or not, but it would be incredibly hypocritical of him to deny his Jedi something he would never let go of himself.
"You do understand that this means that your lightsaber will be delayed, don't you?"
"Yeah, of course." Asajj replied, casually. "But this is more important than that. It's not like the Temple's going anywhere."
A surprising well of gratitude sprang up inside Dooku. Really, he was blessed by the Force to have an excellent padawan.
Maybe he should try not to be so hard on her.