dryskies_btb
patreon
KYBER-PUNK 22BBY Dooku-I
🕑 Added 2025-12-09 00:57:51 +0000 UTC[An Old Friend; An Old Master]
— Dooku —
“They’ve been busy since you went along your way, Dooku,” A chuckle informed him from the other side of the holo-call.
Dooku raised an eyebrow and drawled, “Oh? Please, do elaborate, old friend. Any update on new ground being broken in your… unique… part of the galaxy is welcome.”
Morgan Blackhand gave him a grin over the comm, “Lucky you, then. I’ve been watching them closely. Some of the most fun I’ve had in ages. And ‘new ground’ is… yeah, probably the best way to put it. They’ve started expanding.”
“So terrible,” Dooku shook his head. “That I had to leave when I did. Events were just getting interesting, and I would’ve stayed if I could. It isn’t often I get to be a part of something so revolutionary that isn’t of my own making. Unfortunately, responsibility called.”
“Responsibility, that cruel bitch,” Blackhand laughed. “She called you back to that little movement of your own that you’ve got brewing?”
“Little, yes,” Dooku drawled. “The Confederacy and our planned secession might be called that… But only by you, Blackhand. Not even our opposition would dismiss us so casually. And for myself, there’s nothing ‘little’ about the amount of work I’ve been forced to undertake on independence’s behalf.”
“That’s why I always stuck to solo work,” Blackhand said. “Once you start a proper movement, start having to babysit the big powers at play, you’ll never rest again. And that just wouldn’t fly for my old and weary bones.”
Dooku sighed, “I wish I could call that statement hyperbole, but I’ve found it rather accurate. Fools to be wrangled, egos to be placated, agreements and compromises to be made, wholly foundational shifts that need to occur in new light… ’Tis not an easy thing, leading the galaxy to a brighter tomorrow.”
“That’s what you’re doing?” Blackhand asked, raising an amused and questioning brow.
“It is,” Dooku firmly replied. “It must be. If I allow that belief to falter, all I have done will be for naught.”
“I’m not trying to argue with you, youngin’,” Blackhand said, shaking his head. “It’s hardly my place. I’m an old merc. The Solo’s Solo. But this, all you’re doing…? It’s way above my pay grade. It would’ve been, even in my prime.”
“Yet you’ve seen more of the galaxy than even I,” Dooku pressed. “Surely, you can see, too, that something new must be tried.”
“No comment,” Blackhand said frankly. “I’ve done my time changing the galaxy. Now, I’m more than happy with the slice of retired life I’ve carved out for myself. A pleasure yacht in orbit of Free Nar Shaddaa, plenty of entertainment below to keep me occupied, and my girls to keep old nightmares at bay. That’s all I need these days.
“So as fond as I am of our friendship, I’ll have to ask that you don’t drag me back into the galaxy-changing business. At the level you’re playing at, I wouldn’t be much help, anyway.”
“Somehow, I doubt that,” Dooku disagreed. “You would find a way to excel in whatever you put your mind to. And a provenly competent mercenary will always be priceless. But I won’t remove you from your peace. Information… and perhaps some advice for an old friend; that is all I would ask of you.”
“Talk is cheap,” Blackhand nodded. “I can spare that much.”
“Cheap for the one speaking it, perhaps, but often invaluable for those who need to hear it,” Dooku noted.
“You should write a book with that wisdom, Jedi,” Blackhand smirked.
“Take a portion of my responsibility, and perhaps I would find the time to do so,” Dooku deadpanned, the offer hardly serious.
“Not a chance! You’ll just have to save that wisdom for that fiesty young apprentice of yours!” Blackhand laughed.
Dooku’s reply came serious as can be, though, “I will. Asajj shall learn from all of my mistakes and experiences. She’ll be better than me, rise higher, or I will have failed her most grievously.”
“How’s the little firecracker doing so far? Proven herself yet, or are you still testin’ her?” Blackhand asked.
“Even after I’ve taught her everything I can, I will always be testing her,” Dooku answered. “It is for her own good. For the galaxy’s good, with the role I intend to see her fill. That said… I believe her to be worth the effort of teaching. I’ve even encouraged her to choose a new name as a show of that faith.”
Blackhand showed interest in that last sentence, “Oh, yeah? What handle did the firecracker pick for herself?”
“Darth Twilight, for the Night is always Darkest Before the Dawn. Or so she justified it to me,” Dooku’s lips twitched, a slight smile to himself. “It seems she’s taken my ambition of a new, dawning era for the galaxy to heart.”
“A new handle to define her new position,” Blackhand nodded. “Sometimes, all we need is a beginning, a chance to shine as we should.”
“Quite,” Dooku agreed. “Now, how have my new friends in your neighborhood been shining?”
“Well, they took the moon,” Blackhand told him. “Declared ‘Free Nar Shaddaa’ and all. Then, some outsiders popped in for a visit. Proper politics for their revolutionary movement. A pair of senators and a pair of your old peers as escorts.”
“Whom, exactly?” Dooku asked, raising a brow.
“Amidala, Skywalker, Kenobi, and Organa. That last one is dangerous and the only one I recognized by rep and name. Never fuck with the hidden, spooky side of Alderaan, neh?” Blackhand answered with a shrug.
“Oh, yes,” Dooku drawled. “Trust me, I’ve heard the rumors.”
“Not much for rumors when they’ve got so much truth to ‘em,” Blackhand said. “But then, I’d fully expect you to know that much.”
Dooku didn’t answer, just humming, “Hmm… In the Senate, Amidala and Organa are notable for pushing to maintain peace at all costs. Did they come to the Gonks with the same goal in mind?”
“Maybe, but even my watchful eyes have limits, Dooku,” Blackhand reminded. “I wasn’t privy to their actual talks, just the aftershocks they left. The pieces I picked up in their wake to put together the whole holo-pic.
“They came, visited the Freed — former slaves — to hear their stories, and then… it seems that priorities were reassessed. The senators didn’t strike up a treaty or anything — no ceasefire — but they did bring something new to Free Nar Shaddaa. Something… foundational. Has word of Mighty Leia’s Laws reached you yet?”
“It… has not,” Dooku said curiously. “What’s this, then?”
“As far as I can tell? It’s the Gonks stretching their weight into the legal and stately arena for the first time,” Blackhand answered. “This area of space isn’t big on laws. Never has been. But there are always exceptions. And… setting freedom and breaking chains into law is one of them, it seems. Our young Head Gonk has gotten himself a meaningful declaration of cause and purpose, a founding document for his new state of Free Nar Shaddaa, the recognized sovereignty to go with it, and a neat little casus belli to push further wherever slavery is concerned.”
“Hmm,” Dooku hummed.
He turned the matter over in his mind, using the Force to feel out everything that Blackhand wasn’t saying or might’ve missed. As he did, the Force seemed to trill and giggle with excitement and potential yet to be defined. It was… eager to see fate take on new paths. Dooku had come to expect as much from the Force when Atom was concerned; it was part of the reason the legendary Master Fay had pledged herself to him.
But… there was something more, as well. Something starry, immersed deep within the Force and spread throughout the cosmos, was echoing a new song, a song of freedom. It was a common chorus of chains broken — sung in Light and Dark, sung however was necessary for its liberation to be heard louder and louder across the stars. The true extent of it, even just the chords and notes that reached him, humbled even Dooku, for a moment.
Dooku sensed a thread of the past connecting him to the first note of that song to be sung. And as Dooku followed the thread of the past, he was struck by a certain melancholy. That first note had echoed forth from a somewhat familiar vergence. A shout of change, of breaking chains; it reached him through his late Padawan, his Grand-Padawan, and his Great-Grand-Padawan.
Barely aloud, Dooku sighed sadly to himself, “Qui-Gon would be proud of you, boy. And even more proud of her… ‘Chosen’, yes, but perhaps not in the way you expected, my Padawan…”
“Hm?” Blackhand hummed a question.
Dooku shook his head clear, “Connections. The ties that bind us. Those two Jedi escorts in this tale you’re telling me are members of a legacy I’ve unfortunately left behind. A third generation teaching a fourth. It… is what it is. I shall watch them going forth, but it is good to hear them thriving on their own. I only hope the Council doesn’t strangle them as it tried to strangle the first two generations of my line.”
“Couldn’t say,” Blackhand shrugged. “I’ve got few eyes in the Core, and certainly none in the Jedi Temple now that you’ve gone on your way.”
“That is fine,” Dooku nodded. “I still have a few connections in my old Order, though they likely won’t last much longer once I begin to work more openly. I’ll have to watch my inheritors while I still can. Now, what of the politics I missed other than these Mighty Leia’s Laws?”
“Free Nar Shaddaa is recognized,” Blackhand answered. “At least by Alderaan and Naboo. And the senators seemed to part with the Gonks on good terms. What comes next there, we’ll just have to see. For the Gonks, though, they fully secured Nal Hutta and started looking outward.”
“Yes, expanding, you said?” Dooku asked, raising a brow. “I should expect nothing less from Atom.”
“Especially with a new casus belli to exercise,” Blackhand agreed. “That boy doesn’t know the meaning of ‘rest’. Just last week, they took a wartime gig on Rorak 5.”
“The slave market system?” Dooku clarified and nodded. “Understandable. And I’m already sure they succeeded in their… ‘gig’, did they not?”
“Went as smooth as blue butter. The Gonk movement is no longer contained to just Free Nar Shaddaa. Proving they’ve got legs, neh? Even if it also means they’ve got their work cut out for ‘em,” Blackhand informed him.
“A new state emerging from the heart of Hutt Space,” Dooku considered aloud. “Fledgling for the moment, but I’m already certain they have the potential they need to survive and thrive. I’ve seen that much for myself. They’ll only grow from here, and that’s something to keep in mind.”
“Looking to get in on things?” Blackhand asked, smirking slightly.
“At the very least, I won’t be ignoring them,” Dooku answered a bit more seriously.
“Their potential is palpable. They upheave all they touch. They shift paradigms everywhere they so much as look,” Dooku continued. “Plans must be shifted around them, but those shifts also open up new paths. Better or worse, I fully intend to explore them, both where they end and why they are.”
“Sounds heavy. All esoteric-like, even,” Blackhand noted. “But… color me curious, old friend. Anything you can share that would enhance my entertainment? Give me something to think about while I watch mini-Smasher’s chaos?”
The last was asked with an amused smirk. Dooku chuffed, slightly exasperated, but indulged the old merc, sharing his thoughts and observations.
“The very fabric of the Force upon Free Nar Shaddaa has been made… unique. It’s tumultuous and unpredictable, yet… not a storm. No, it is a boiling, churning, melting pot to be watched. A crucible to forge new players and pieces within. A nexus of paths to be crossed, fates to be unwritten and rewritten, and true novelty to emerge. And I believe much of that new, unprecedented potential comes down to Atom.”
“Little ol’ him~?” Blackhand teased.
Dooku ignored the old man with too much time on his hands, “He is powerful in the Force. Better yet, he is willing to utilize that power of his to its fullest potential. Not many Jedi would easily do the same, worrying more about past or future than present.
“Atom embodies much of my philosophy of power coming with responsibility, of strength and potential going hand in hand with duty and purpose, of our truest callings as Force Users. We stand, we fall, we inspire and incite, we live, learn, lead, and we die; always carrying a weight of destiny in our sensitive souls. That simple… action of being comes naturally to him. In that way, I find him uniquely inspiring.
“He can… and so, he does. To him, I believe it truly is as simple and spiteful as that — never looking back, even as he shifts the balance of the galaxy in revolutionary ways. He may make mistakes. He may spawn the most unintended of consequences. Yet he may succeed just as influentially.
“In the end, everything he touches takes on a new light. The Force… favors him for that. I… favor him for that. If I thought he would accept the offer, and if I wasn’t already committed to Asajj, I would offer him an apprenticeship in a heartbeat. As it is, I’m thankful enough for him simply being the stone in the river to shift the course of my fate. Without him… I do not believe I would be where I currently am.”
“What’d the kid even do? For you, I mean,” Blackhand asked, his teasing falling away to genuine curiosity.
“Simply be,” Dooku answered, as thoughtful as he was thankful. “For he seems to exist in a constant state of action, and the ripples of that existence reach far and wide. Without them, I doubt I would’ve visited Free Nar Shaddaa and its Forceful crucible. I doubt I would’ve met Master Fay, a legend and beacon to help pull me back from the brink. I doubt I would’ve taken a step back to look at myself, my apprentice, and… more…”
He trailed off, unwilling to mention Sidious to his old friend. Thankfully, Blackhand was tactful enough not to press further, and Dooku continued.
“And all of that is without considering the souls he surrounds himself with, his effects on them, and their effects in turn. His whole movement of noteworthy figures — seizing the heart of Hutt Space as has never been done before, and bringing new players onto the galactic stage.
“Aayla Secura and Quinlan Vos, two of the most free-thinking, grounded, practically experienced, and actually effective Jedi Knights of the current generation, and Shadows to boot. Atom has given them a place where they can be almost worryingly active, all for a righteous cause.”
“My Grand-Padawan and his Padawan as well now, it seems,” Dooku noted with some amusement. “I do not know the full extent of their time on Free Nar Shaddaa — alongside Atom and in that Forceful crucible — but from what I can sense, it was good for them. I shall just have to wait to see how the influences of that relationship develop from here.
“But most worth watching, worth considering, and accounting for… is his relationship with Master Fay. Earning her allegiance is no small matter. Even just her presence stirs and spurs the crucible of potential around Atom, much less her pledged commitment to him.”
“She… Have I told you about Master Fay, my friend?” Dooku asked.
“Can’t say you have,” Blackhand shook his head. “She’s the angel-lookin’ one, yeah? I figured she was a Jedi, but I didn’t realize she was… all that.”
Dooku’s lips twitched with amusement, “Oh, she is. She truly is ‘all that’. And perhaps more. Master Fay is a figure impossible to put into words. I was raised on stories of her in the Temple’s creche, and heard more, firsthand, once I became a Padawan.”
“Sounds Legend,” Blackhand noted. “In the Night City sense of the title.”
“Perhaps,” Dooku allowed. “But it is my understanding that most of your Legends are dead.”
“They tend to be,” Blackhand shrugged. “But it’s not the rule of Legend. I’m still kickin’, aren’t I? And so is Smasher, unfortunate as that is. Same ship, Atom’s a Legend who’s just begun. I’d bet he’s plenty of life left in him.”
“Master Fay, I believe, is best categorized as a Living Jedi Legend. She has been for nigh on a thousand years, and has been uniquely active all that while. I don’t believe there’s a corner of the galaxy that she hasn’t touched in her travels. Everywhere she goes, she brings true Light, and everywhere she goes, she leaves the galaxy a bit better off than before she arrived,” Dooku explained.
“And now, she’s gone and sworn herself to the kid?” Blackhand asked.
“She has,” Dooku confirmed. “And that is… unspeakably significant. How would Night City react if you suddenly reappeared from retirement and swore yourself to Atom?”
“It’d cause a stir, that’s for sure,” Blackhand allowed, not humble but not quite arrogant, either. “Not that the kid seems to need my old ass to cause a stir all on his own.”
A small smirk settled over Dooku’s lips, “Quite. Still, the point of my analogy stands, and even falls some ways short of the true significance of Master Fay’s commitment. Many in the Order think of her, not just a Legend, but as a myth, an idol of all that Light should be.
“Now, standing beside Atom, that idolizing myth has suddenly come to life — an ancient, powerful, and connected elder emerging from her noble wandering and stepping back onto the galactic stage. Dark powers quiver in their shadows, and many young dreamers whisper awe and idealism between themselves.
“She is a sign of significance, a portent of potential to come, and a shining beacon of legitimacy, above both Light and Dark. Her support is a statement in itself, meaning much to those who know how to look and think for themselves. She is a Champion of the Force, an oracle, prophet, and Speaker for the Unifying Whole.
“Only now has she chosen to make herself undeniably known once more. Only now has she shown her favor, Legendary favor, for something new and revolutionary. Only now has she begun shifting the galaxy’s scales with all of the weight she brings to bear.”
“Sounds heavy,” Blackhand commented simply, sounding nonchalant and almost disrespectful.
Dooku pointedly didn’t roll his eyes, but it was a near thing, “Heavy, yes. And thus, why I will never be able to ignore Atom and his Gonk movement. He alone is worth watching, considering, and treating with a certain level of earned respect. All that he surrounds himself with, and all he does from here, only furthers that respect and consideration in my eyes.”
“I’ll keep my eyes on him for you, then,” Blackhand nodded.
“If it isn’t too much trouble, please,” Dooku drawled.
“Not much of a hassle at all, old friend,” Blackhand snorted a laugh. “Best entertainment I’ve had in years. As they keep expanding, though, I’ll have to get some eyes in their inner circle. Wouldn’t want to miss anything…”
“Smasher’s plucky Bad MF of a descendant, maybe?” He wondered aloud, chuckling. “That’d be good fun, turning her to keep myself informed and entertained. And it’d be sure to tweak the Borg’s steel nose something fierce. I can see him glitchin’ out already…”
“I’ve met Smasher,” Dooku deadpanned. “And I’ve seen his new frame. If that is something you aim to ‘tweak’, there is no hope for you, even in your retirement.”
“Hope for me?” Blackhand grinned. “What’s that? Can I drink it ’til I’m nice and tipsy~?”
With that, as he always managed to do, Blackhand pushed Dooku past the limits of his exasperation. Dooku gave in and outright rolled his eyes.
“… Yes, I should’ve expected it to be foreign to you, Blackhand. But it is your retirement. I shall leave you to ruin it as you wish.”
“Hey, an old man can have a bit of fun without coming back full-time,” Blackhand shrugged, defending himself. “Smasher and his one-sided rivalry are just too much fun to ever quit cold, ya know?”
“I don’t,” Dooku deadpanned. “Personally, I would stay away from the massive murder monster of steel and chrome hatred for the sake of my peace of mind.”
“I guess, even in retirement, those of us from Night City are simply… built different,” Blackhand smirked.
From everything he’d seen from that unique slice of the galaxy, Dooku couldn’t help but agree. Smasher, Atom, the whole Gonk movement, Blackhand himself… Yet before he could cut back with a witty retort, Dooku was interrupted.
A second holo-call reached his comm. His system identified it as passing through half a dozen proxies, encrypted to the lightsaber hilt, and shrouded further by the Veil of the Dark Side. Only one twisted soul could possibly be on the other end.
A mask of ice and stone fell over Dooku’s face. The good mood from his pleasant conversation with an old friend chilled to a voiding standstill. In that voiding standstill, dark and calculating hatred smoldered.
His… former… Master. Dooku’s parting conversation with Master Fay rose in his mind. She may have seen straight through him, but, even then, she’d been willing to help guide him away from a dark fate. She’d shared her visions of the future awaiting him on his previous path. The future of death and betrayal, of the tragic, pointless life of a pawn thinking himself a player. All centered solely around that former Master of his.
Ideas and growing convictions had already been in his mind before that enlightening, guiding conversation. And Master Fay had only breathed more life into them. Now, his new conviction was firmly set. His new path was decided upon and was already being put into action, not merely thought.
His former Master was nonethewiser. Even the darkly powerful Sidious, for all his schemes and Grand Plans, could be rendered clueless. Even Sidious could be blinded to the actions of others. Even Sidious could forget that the enemy always gets a vote, especially when he wasn’t aware that a new enemy was acting against him with knowledge of his most hidden workings.
Sidious was calling as an ally, as a Master who thought himself unimpeachable. Dooku was content to leave him to that assumption. For now…
Until he was ready to reveal his betrayal, any extra time he could get to prepare was welcome. Unfortunately, that did mean he had to answer the call and… speak civilly… with the former Master who was still so arrogant in his control over his Apprentice.
“I’m afraid I have to take this call, my friend,” Dooku told Blackhand.
Something of the cold burning hatred within must’ve leaked into his voice, for Blackhand just nodded, “Heard and acknowledged. I’ll call you up at another time. Until then… look out for you and yours, ya hear?”
Dooku left Blackhand with a promise in lieu of a proper farewell, “Oh, I most certainly intend to…”
He ended the pleasant call between old friends and took a moment to prepare himself for the incoming one… The call between Sith — enemies always, though now that was even more true than Sidious would realize.
With a centering breath, Dooku masked his emotions, thoughts, and plans, purposefully leaving just enough exposed to satisfy what Sidious would expect to see.
The Tyranus Sidious had created, second in his Rule of Two, stepped forward. The new Tyranus — first in a new Rule of Two and Sidious’s earnest enemy — and Dooku himself were concealed behind the persona that Sidious knew best.
Tyranus answered the call, his expression as stoic and unreadable as ever. Perfectly Sith, he showed no sign of the betrayal already in motion, already acting against Sidious. The man who considered himself a Master, not just to Tyranus but to the whole galaxy as well, would find no warning until it was much too late.
A hooded figure flickered into view on the other end of the call. A figure who was never to be underestimated, even if he wasn’t nearly as perfect and supreme as he thought himself. Sidious’s features were shrouded in shadow, but Dooku knew the face that lurked beneath. The very face of the Republic Sidious sought to destroy and corrupt to his dark ends…
Dooku spared his former Master a single curt nod, acknowledging but not quite deferential, “Sidious.”
“Ah, Tyranus, my dearest Apprentice,” The false affection made Dooku’s skin crawl, and by the grin on Sidious’s hooded face, he knew it. “You are looking well, especially after so nobly braving the depths of inhuman space. Tell me, how went your time in the heart of the slugs?”
“Heart of the slugs no longer,” Dooku said, daring to leave off the deferential ‘Master’ he normally would’ve been forced to tack on the end of that statement. “Free Nar Shaddaa is now under… revolutionary new management. As I’m sure you’re aware.”
“Oh, I surely am.” It was rather off-putting to see the darkly hooded figure chuckle so genially. “I recently heard some rather intriguing — and INFURIATING… — reports concerning the developments there. But first… The last we spoke, I gave you a task. And I’ve yet to hear back from you about it. Have you been… avoiding me in your failure?”
Dooku didn’t acknowledge the dangerous taunt, instead bluntly stating his opinion, “Kyber-spice was a lost cause before you even asked me to look into it. It was, and I don’t say this lightly, too twisted for even the Sith and Dark Side. That it has now been eradicated from the galaxy is a boon to all.”
Surprisingly, Sidious just nodded at that, “Yes, I reconsidered and came to the same conclusion. Too twisted, indeed… And beyond that, it would’ve been an unflattering show of weakness. True Sith should hardly need to rely on something so… false. So for this task, I shall not hold failure against you, Apprentice.”
Once again, Dooku didn’t rise to the bait. Sidious saw that, merely chuckled, and continued.
“Now, the actual reports? Interesting… intriguing… infuriating~; they simply must be taken into account,” Sidious practically purred.
Schooling his disgust and disdain, Dooku requested, “Enlighten me. I’m afraid I missed the Republic’s mission into Gonk Space and all it might’ve entailed.”
“It entailed that pesky Nabooian junior of mine. You know the one, I’m sure. She can’t seem to keep her nose where it should be,” Sidious said. “She was accompanied by Bail Organa in all his dangerous competence, and a pair of noteworthy Jedi escorts who have long had my attention, as well. The mission was… unsanctioned, of course, but when has that ever stopped Amidala?”
“Never, by your tone,” Dooku deadpanned back.
“Never,” Sidious confirmed. “Yet young Padme can be as useful as she is vexing. Here, the unsanctioned nature of her mission — and only reporting after the fact — played in my favor. I doubt I could’ve easily dispatched anything official to… check up on… all the interesting events happening in that portion of space.”
“And the reports from my time there wouldn’t have been enough?” Dooku asked, raising an imperious eyebrow.
Sidious waved, “Missions come in many kinds. The pesky senator may very well discover things you could not, and vice versa. She was there for the politics and the mundane. You were there on Sith and Separatist business. Both are surely needed for me to put together the pieces of this fascinating puzzle. Worry not, I haven’t dismissed or forgotten about you, my Apprentice.”
“Joy,” Dooku drawled.
“It is, isn’t it?” Sidious chuckled darkly. “Now, most interesting from Padme’s official report was that she left for peace and came back with a vendetta. It was rather deliciously out of character for the girl. I almost thought there was some hope for her, with her new hatred for all things Hutt.”
“A rational and understandable stance to take, after seeing into the heart of their space,” Dooku said.
“Oh, I do agree,” Sidious nodded, sounding almost… pleasant. “The slugs embody the worst the Alien has to offer the galaxy. I simply hadn’t been expecting it from young Padme. This new hatred of hers has been… a breath of fresh air for her character.”
“Now,” Sidious continued. “Most intriguing about the reports I heard must be these… ‘Gonks’ in their totality. New to the galactic game, and my, my, have they been busy. Their presence in Hutt Space — if they do not fail and fall as quickly as they’ve risen — opens possibilities that must be considered. It occurs to me that your part in the Grand Plan may find some use in a criminal arm to call your own, my Apprentice.”
“I may,” Dooku allowed, not showing his true thoughts or feelings.
Sidious… had no idea the true heat of the fire he was playing with. Even a Sith — perhaps especially a Sith, with Fay at his side — would have trouble trying to control Atom in the slightest, with all his Spite.
Dooku had seen that much firsthand. Sidious… had not. But Dooku wasn’t about to interrupt his former Master and current enemy while he was making such a potentially costly mistake.
“I have my own criminal arm, of course,” Sidious said. “My Black Suns, even if I’ve come to notice… a new player, minor and amateurish, trying to slip themselves beneath my attention there…
“Regardless of that bug to be squashed… in this play of war we’ll be putting on, crime can be just another tool at our disposal. Criminals from without, unknown and rising to prominence in loathsome lawless space, may just be used to cause delicious misery to help further the Grand Plan and set the stage for the coming imperium throughout the war. Tensions to be raised, disposable assets to be utilized, mundane darkness to spread; why, naturally, despicable criminals would take advantage of the strife. Best that they’re directed by the true players instead of being left to their own devices.”
Following Sidious’s train of thought, at least to further his dangerous logic and the mistake he was making, Dooku nodded, “It would make our… play at war… seem that much more real.”
“Precisely,” Sidious smiled his schemer’s smile. “And you know how I value… sincerity~…”
Dooku nodded again. He did. Or rather, he knew that Sidious didn’t. At all. Unless that ‘sincerity’ served him and him alone. But then, that was true of all things Sidious was and did.
“And so, you pose that the Gonks would act as my criminal arm?” Dooku asked for open clarification. “Not the Hutts? Would they not be the more effective choice for deepening your… desired dogma in the Core?”
“They would,” Sidious agreed, even chuckling. “But even I have limits, my Apprentice. Those limits find these ‘Gonks’ much more palatable. They are still outsiders where it truly matters, an enemy for the dregs of society to rally against… yet they aren’t slugs.”
“They most certainly are not…” Dooku muttered, half to himself. “I suppose the damage they’re already causing to the Hutts is also pleasing to your sensibilities?”
A wicked grin rose beneath Sidious’s hood, “Salted slugs, without me having to raise a finger or expend any resources? Yes, I would call that… pleasing… They are doing good Human work, even if it has been independent and undirected so far. Truly, they only need to be shown the darkness, and would then be perfect tools. And I’m sure I don’t need to waste my time and effort arranging things for you there, do I?”
“I have already met the driving forces behind their movement. I have, you might say, an ‘in’,” Dooku said.
“Good,” Sidious nodded. “The rest should be simple for one of your power and talents, my Apprentice.”
It absolutely wouldn’t, Dooku thought flatly to himself. And that was if he even had any intention of going along with his former Master’s ever-adapting, ever-shifting schemes.
Sidious was clearly certain that Dooku was still cowed into loyalty, and thus, still directing him as if he were just another piece on the board. Dooku almost wished he could be there to see Sidious’s face and fury when the arrogant Master realized that his control had already been broken, even now.
“You may even get a few useful acolytes out of the process. That ’Spite Side’ user will be exquisite to see corrupted. I would welcome you to them,” Sidious said, chuckling as painfully false encouragement.
Before breaking from Sidious’s grasp, the taunt might’ve gotten to Dooku. It was a reminder that he was the Second in the Sith’s Rule of Two, and thus, couldn’t take true Apprentices if he tried. At the same time, it was a quintessentially Sith invitation for Dooku to challenge his former Master, for Sidious reveled in ruining dreams and plans set against him.
Now, however, Dooku truly couldn’t care less about his former Master’s taunts and challenges. He already had a true Apprentice, and Sidious was nonethewiser. He was already challenging the Sith Lord and his Rule of Two, and Sidious was nonethewiser. He’d already broken from insidious control, and Sidious was nonethewiser. Truly, Sidious’s taunt fell on deaf ears.
Without flinching, Dooku asked, “And what of the Jedi who have attached themselves to the Gonk movement?”
“Ah, yes,” Sidious scowled, but only slightly. “I heard another report about that side of things. Having bugs in the Council Chambers is a truly wonderful thing. Essential, though rather difficult to maintain… but I digress. The Knights in the field with these ‘Gonks’ would be no trouble for a Sith Lord of your caliber, my Apprentice.”
Dooku disagreed, but kept that to himself. As pure Jedi Knights, Quinlan and Aayla were already nothing to scoff at — a potent and experienced team with a well-tested and ultimately successful track record. And that was without mentioning Quinlan’s Shadow status and Aayla’s Shadow in Training status.
Unlike most Jedi, Shadows were… utterly unpredictable. They did what was necessary, however necessary, even dabbling in the Dark Side if they must. More than pure power and blunt Light Side force, where every problem a Jedi faced was a nail to be hammered, Shadows were flexible and adaptable, clever and cunning in every mission they undertook. And that made even their Knights more dangerous than most Guardian or Consular Masters.
To his former Master, however, Dooku just raised a brow, “And the Master with the Gonks?”
“This Master Fay?” Sidious considered aloud. “Powerful… Yes, she must be. I saw her little projection trick in the Council Chambers and heard her history with the loathsome little green raisin… But a Master is just a Master, nothing to a Lord. And a Jedi is just a Jedi, nothing to a Sith. I will accept only victory, Tyranus. Tyranical domination, as your name heralds.”
Dooku stilled, not at the expected demand for his victory, but because… Sidious didn’t know. He didn’t know about Master Fay. He might know of her, but he’d never been a Jedi, never been raised on the myths and legends of Master Fay in the Temple’s creches. Anything he may’ve heard about her would have to have been third or fourthhand, vague whispers that the rest of the galaxy might share. And Dooku didn’t think his former Master was one to listen to disparate folktales — as Fay’s exploits would be to the rest of the galaxy — anyway.
In that moment, Dooku could’ve laughed. Low and deep, straight from his belly, Dooku could’ve laughed himself silly. He masked the urge, of course, but the moment of almost blessed enlightenment lingered.
Sidious didn’t know. He didn’t know the unbelievable feats from Fay’s myths and legends, much less how she exceeded them in her Force-made-flesh. He didn’t know her power — enough to freeze a fleet of slaving ships as they tried to flee into the sky. He didn’t know her skill or the pure Light of her being — enough to purge entire Dark Side nexuses as if routine and lead entire species back to the Light.
He didn’t know her experience, her personality, or the respect she commanded — enough adventures to fill whole archives, enough good to win over whole generations and lineages across the galaxy who owed their very existence to her, and enough weight to her name to sway whole swathes of the Order if she merely asked.
He didn’t know the old player who was now stepping back onto the stage he was so used to. He didn’t know how the game had already shifted with her simple presence, much less how the board had come to boast several new players with the moves she’d already made.
And Dooku… absolutely was not going to be the one to tell him. He simply nodded, giving nothing away, “As you say.”
“Very good,” Sidious began with a genial smile, only for the expression to darkly twist in on itself. “Now, for the infuriating aspects of the reports I heard… What… is this about ‘breaking chains’…? And why is my Chosen One tied so deeply into it?”
Dooku stayed silent. Sidious wasn’t actually expecting an answer from him. And that thought was proven right. Sidious continued as if Dooku wasn’t even there.
“This… heresy. Blasphemy. Utter sacrilege… with its ‘good cause’… is nauseating. Only a Sith may break their chains…! And for the Chosen One, only I!”
The holo-call flickered, and Dooku was left glad that he’d seemingly been forgotten in Sidious’s rage. Yet just as quickly as it appeared, the rage was harnessed and brought back under strict, Dark Side control. Sidious exhaled Force lightning as he mastered himself once more.
“My Chosen One is rising,” Sidious said. “That cannot stand. And this ‘Mighty Leia’…? A supposed deity of the Force shining through and fortifying my Chosen One…? Breaking her chains, for stars, not darkness…? No. NO! They will be brought low. Under me, as all should be… A ‘sister’ is nothing before a Lord, and chains… may only be truly broken by Sith…
“It is time, my Apprentice. We will begin moving more openly and set the final downfall in motion. Our war… will begin before the month is out.”
“Organize Amidala’s assassination,” Sidious ordered. “Unfortunate, given how I’m coming to admire her newly burning hatred of the Hutts, but necessary. Her death will halt my Chosen One’s rise and… rechain her with loss and anger.
“I, of course, will call for an investigation, for justice. Ensure the assassin you contract will point back to Kamino, for I still need my Clones… Ah, the template. Yes, use the template, and the rest shall naturally fall into place. I shall have my disposable army, and you shall have yours, Tyranus. Then… the play can begin in earnest…”
Dooku nodded along to the orders and even added a suggestion to keep Sidious from questioning his still-assumed loyalty, “I believe Genenosis will serve as a suitable setting for the explosive first scene. I’ll plot secession there, and if interrupted…? So be it.”
Sidious considered the suggestion aloud, “The droid factories there will appear important enough, while being largely inconsequential to your faction’s big picture. And striking at a military target in what can only be a pyrrhic victory will rally support to the war on my side, while extracting a great cost from the Jedi, so comfortable in peace as they are.”
Beneath his hood, Sidious grinned, “See that it is done.”
Rudely and arrogantly — though Dooku expected nothing less — Sidious didn’t wait for a response or even an acknowledgment of his orders before terminating the holo-call.
Dooku was abruptly left with just himself and the… mixed feelings he hid beneath his mask. Disgust, disdain, and pure hatred for his former Master… But also a certain confidence that he knew several things that Sidious didn’t.
Of course, it helped that Sidious had shared quite a few — but never all, Dooku knew — of his currently running schemes in the arrogant assumption that his control was absolute. There was that bit of strife Sidious mentioned in his hold over the Black Suns and the obvious fury over ‘his’ Chosen One’s recent developments, both of which Dooku was sure he could find a use for somehow. But more important than that were Sidious’s… expectations for how the stage would be set in the immediate future…
Personally, Dooku didn’t see why he should work toward fulfilling any of them.
He fully intended the terminated call to be the last civil conversation he had with his former Master, the last sign of broken allegiances. And as a parting gift, Sidious had even given him a guide for what not to do.
Dooku wouldn’t futilely aim to make Atom and the Gonks into his criminal arm, though he was still open to a much more amicable relationship and even alliance there. But only on his terms. While keeping an eye on the Gonk movement was a given, Dooku would do so for himself, not Sidious.
He wouldn’t arrange for Senator Amidala’s assassination; eliminating the leading opponent to the Republic’s Military Creation Act was far from in his best interest now that he was playing for keeps in the war to come. She served him better alive, both in politics and in not making himself such an outright enemy of the ‘Chosen One’ — his Great-Grand-Padawan.
He wouldn’t expend a useful agent in Jango Fett and gift Sidious the Clone army he was expecting. Let Sidious flounder as his expectations and assumptions failed him, perhaps even forcing him to burn himself to keep his ‘Grand Plan’ on track. Without anything or anyone to discover the Clones, Sidious would have to pull them, quite frankly, out of his ass. And the damage that would do to his image and plans could become… interesting, especially with a whispered word or two in the right ears of Sidious’s public identity…
He wouldn’t coordinate the coming conflict with Sidious, and he certainly wouldn’t all but hand him the first battle of the war. Sidious would soon find himself having to work for his victories, having to fight the war in earnest. And when he did, he would find a true enemy in Dooku’s Confederacy.
Sidious would be left waiting for signals, anticipating the progress of his plans, and patiently biding his time… for things that wouldn’t come.
Nothing he expected would even be set in motion, for Dooku wouldn’t play his former Master’s games any longer. When he realized the eventful absence awaiting his expectations, Sidious would know betrayal, see the new order Dooku was truly bringing about, and rage.
Really, he should’ve been expecting this as well, this betrayal. It was the way of the Sith. But Dooku knew his former Master was as arrogant as he was dangerous, competent, and corrupting. He likely assumed himself the only one capable of betrayal, the only true actor, with how long he’d had hidden free rein over the galaxy.
That — Dooku intended to prove to his former Master — was not the case. Sidious’s plans, Grand and small, would be thrown into disarray. And while Dooku was certain Sidious would adapt and overcome his betrayal, his flipping of the board, the temporary lead it would give him was invaluable.
With that lead, Dooku intended to… shift his faction away from Sidious’s expectations, improve it so it could truly stand on its own. Truthfully, he’d already begun. It took the herding of egos, the stern ruling hand of a Sith Lord, the birth of an almost completely new Confederacy on the eve of secession, and the taking of a true Apprentice as his successor, but all his efforts would bear fruit.
Sidious expected his Confederacy to be a mere foil, a convenient enemy to rally against. It was supposed to be an inherently flawed thing, and it being led by the megacorps was meant to make it an easy target to paint as corrupt, to paint as ‘more of the same’. Sidious never expected Dooku’s movement and faction to actually stand on its own.
Now, while the megacorps would certainly still play a role in Dooku’s new order, his Confederacy would not be wholly built around them. Working for himself, his own ends, and his own best interests, Dooku no longer had to accept that… unfavorable situation as the foundation of his new order. No longer a mere foil for Sidious and the Republic, Dooku and the Confederacy could begin building something new in truth.
He could rally individual systems and sectors, the ‘little people’ of the Mid and Outer Rim who went so ignored by the Core-focused Republic. He could build his new order, not from greedy conglomerates, but from sentient souls dreaming of more, dreaming of a different and better way.
The megacorporations might provide the logistical and economic basis of his Confederacy — and certainly still benefit greatly from secession to keep them on side — but Dooku would personally ensure that they didn’t come to dominate everything, as Sidious and the rest of the galaxy assumed they would. He would personally ensure that they were attached to his new order, not its backbone.
Any illusions they had of running things would be dispelled. Only he could lead his new order, with his successor after him; Dooku would make that fact painfully clear to the fools who thought themselves important to his movement. Rich and powerful as they might be, all were replaceable before a Sith Lord.
The true strength of his new Confederacy would be political, personal, and idealistic, not driven by profits and greed. It would be collective, individuals stronger as they came together than as they languished apart, and founded on the people the Republic had so long ignored. It would be new and different and honestly, earnestly, truthfully trying instead of bowing to hidden Grand Plans that served Sidious and Sidious alone.
He already had targets and allies there, ones that would’ve been inevitably ignored by his Confederacy and pushed to the side if he kept the new order as a mere foil. Mina Bonteri and Onderon, Avi Singh and Raxus, for examples of the big players and true believers in the Separatist movement, and potentially Mandalore, its Duchess, and the whole supersector that looked to them for an example of key allies yet to be fully won over.
And now, breaking from Sidious and his Grand Plan, Dooku was no longer forced to compromise his leadership of them. He no longer had to plan on giving ground to the corrupting influences within his new order and strangle its development for the sake of the ‘Grand Plan’. He was no longer forced to pretend.
Force Users were meant to lead, Dooku truly believed, not follow. It was a responsibility invested in them by the Forceful weight of their souls, Light or Dark. Dooku had already failed that responsibility for too long, tethered to Sidious and his Grand Plans. Now, he would make his amends to the Force in true change for the galaxy, whatever the attempt might cost him.
Once again, Dooku found himself looking to Atom with admiration and a touch of envy. The younger man had maintained that leading conviction since the beginning, not forced to compromise or follow any master but himself and his Spite. Atom could… so he did.
And now… Dooku could… so he would.
IIIII
Bonus Pics (sauce below)
Comments
Sebastian
So are we going do any super soldier serum now maybe a spartan team to get some diversity and non chrome maybe some web 🕸 shooters fell like my guy need more wepon options grav hammer maybe some assassins creed blades maybe a transformer car truck or bike 🏍 🤔
QuantumServer
Thanks for the chapter..... Cant tell if Sidious will be more perplexed by A). Dooku's actions B). Actually meeting amd YRING to fight master Fay C). Trimg to fight Atom or smashers even
