Chapter 12
Lesson
The Lethan stared at him blankly for several long moments. “You?”
Dooku replied evenly, “Yes.”
Sri frowned again. Him? An old man? There wasn’t a chance could keep up with her, much less teach her. And…had he said “Count”? She crossed her arms. “That isn’t a Jedi title.”
“Because I’m not a Jedi. Do you have any possessions?”
The Twi’lek arched her tattooed eyebrows. “I find it hard to believe that Windu would allow anyone besides a Jedi to train me.”
His chin rose slightly, and his back straightened. “I was once a Jedi Master. Seven years ago, I left the Order to claim my ancestral title.”
“Really. Why?”
Dooku folded his hands behind his back. “We will discuss that after we depart.”
Her frown deepened. “Depart? Where are we going?”
“To my home planet, Serenno.”
“Why?”
“I believe you would benefit from the solitude. If you have any material possessions, gather them. We leave immediately.”
Sri shifted her weight onto her left foot and asked flatly, “What’s the rush?”
“I’m eager to begin your training.”
The Twi’lek smiled thinly. “I’m sure you’ll be ready to hand me back to Windu before you’ve had time to teach me anything. I’m carrying everything I own, so let’s get this over with, Master.”
The Count did not return her smile. “That rank no longer applies to me. My name is Dooku; that is all the title I expect from my apprentice. Please follow me.” He spun on his heel and strode down the marble hall, his dark brown cape billowing behind him.
Sri obeyed the old man, surprised by his alacrity. She practically had to run to keep up with him. He didn’t expect her to refer to him as “Master”—that was different, to say the least. Windu had insisted on her using that title when she addressed him, but this Jedi—former Jedi, she corrected herself—seemed completely uninterested in being referred to in that manner. His voice had a commanding edge, compelling, but so subtle that she hadn’t picked up on it until now. His eyes bore none of the watery cloudiness she expected in old people; instead they were sharp and bright, every bit as commanding as his voice, but not in a way she found obnoxious or condescending. He radiated charisma, strength—
No, she reminded herself. He wouldn’t be able to handle her training, no matter how powerful and charismatic he was. She’d been hardened to commanding presences and power long ago; this man would have no more authority over her than Windu had. He was just another Jedi. Still…he had left the Order, apparently of his own free will. No, no—he hadn’t left because of any difficulties with the Order, just “to claim his ancestral title.” He was a Jedi using a different name, and nothing more.
Several minutes later, the old man and the teenager emerged from the Temple onto a landing platform. The sun was rising in the sky, but a slight chill was left in the air from the night before. An acrid breeze blew by, carrying the scents of machinery and unwashed organics to Sri. She barely noticed the stench. Her sense of smell had become accustomed to foul odors soon after she’d been sold; these were simply new aromas. Unconsciously, she pulled her cloak closer about her against the coolness. Coruscant was still too cold for her tastes.
Dooku never broke stride. The boarding ramp of a small shuttle resting on the landing platform was down; Sri followed him inside. Her eyes darted around, taking in the interior of the shuttle in an instant. It was very simple. The back was a hollow, bare hold obviously meant for cargo. A wall separated the cockpit from the cargo hold; a simple hole reaching from the floor to the low ceiling served as a door. Dooku, bent slightly to avoid brushing his head against the ceiling, stepped through the hole and sat down in what seemed to be the pilot’s seat.
The Count’s hands played over the console in front of him, and the back of the shuttle closed, cutting off the sunlight streaming in. The sound of engines starting rumbled in Sri’s ears; the floor shook slightly, and she saw the scenery visible through the cockpit window drop away.
Dooku glanced over his shoulder and saw her still standing in the hold. He motioned towards the co-pilot’s seat with one hand. “Sit. There’s no need for you to remain back there.”
Sri glanced around the cargo hold one last time—no sign of weapons, or even a place to hide weapons. He just had his lightsaber. The Twi’lek walked forward and sat in the indicated chair. She turned her eyes to the window and folded her arms across her chest.
They both remained silent the entire time they were on the shuttle. Sri watched the scenery change rapidly, but she wasn’t awed by the view like she had been a few weeks ago with Tion. She was accustomed to the endless sea of metal now; it held little value to her, even aesthetically.
Several lengthy, silent minutes passed before the shuttle approached an orbiting ship. The long, sleek vessel shone brilliantly in the sunlight, forcing Sri to hold her hand in front of her eyes. Dooku seemed completely unfazed by the blinding light and simply guided the shuttle into the back of the ship.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Half an hour later, Sri had found herself in her new quarters, alone except for a droid. She and Dooku had disembarked, then he’d led her here. This ship had seemed to be deserted apart from some droids, Dooku, and herself; she’d felt no signs of life aboard. When she’d questioned her new master about it, he’d simply said that he didn’t want unnecessary attendants and preferred droids for the few tasks he couldn’t do himself, such as pilot the ship—or, in the case of the one he’d left with her—attend to her needs. Why he was using a ship large enough to carry several extra passengers had remained unexplained.
The droid had shown her around her spacious quarters with alacrity, though its voice had never broken out of its steady monotone. The rooms were fairly simple, and Sri could easily figure out everything the droid showed—in fact, she’d been tempted to shut down the droid for stating obvious things like “This is your bed. It is for sleeping.” There was very little to tell, really. The “suite”, as the droid called it, consisted of two rooms, each about the size of the main room she’d had in the Jedi Temple, plus the small refresher room. The other two rooms seemed to have separate purposes, though the single room at the Temple had accomplished both purposes beautifully; one of them was for sleeping, and the other one was for quiet recreation such as reading. The only thing of interest in either room was the closet in the bedroom; it contained several changes of clothing for her. As the droid had so thoughtfully explained, Dooku had acquired some extra clothes for her at the Temple before he’d picked her up.
Soon afterwards, Dooku had rejoined her and led her to a “training room”. She was now kneeling in the center of the circular room, bathed in a circle of strong white light from above, completely cut off from the darkness filling the rest of the room. Dooku stood beside her.
Sri glanced up at the old man. He motioned out at the darkness; a small, clear sphere flew into the light and settled on the floor in front of Sri, glimmering. The Twi’lek glanced up at her new master. This was rich—he was gonna start out her training the same way Windu had.
“Lift the sphere into the air.”
The Lethan closed her eyes, summoning the malice lurking just beyond the shadows within herself. It leaped into the center of her mind, dragging the blackness with it, swirling with the light, shrieking like a mighty storm. Sri motioned towards the tiny sphere with her hand; it spun into the air, as if borne on the wings of the wind.
“Now put it back down.”
The storm became a tornado, sucking the sphere down into its center.
The sound of smashing glass splintered the wind. Sri’s eyes flew open. Shards of the sphere lay scattered on the floor.
Dooku’s deep voice stated, “The sphere was hollow, fragile. Remember it when you are faced with a task. What seems to be simple may be an illusion designed to trick you into making a mistake.”
Sri glared up at him for a moment, then laughed quietly. “Already giving me wise sayings?”
“You would do well to listen to them,” the old man replied flatly. He motioned into the darkness once more, producing another translucent sphere. “Again. Try not to break it this time.”
The Twi’lek scowled and closed her eyes again. The anger and hate flooded her again, twisting her, filling her with the strength of the whirlwind. The sphere rose, hovered, and dropped.
It suffered the same fate as the previous sphere.
Again, Dooku’s voice filled her ears. “You lack control. Calm yourself. Your emotions are a source of great strength, but they cannot be allowed to rule you. You’re beyond that.”
Sri’s scowl deepened. How was she supposed to “calm herself”? She could only reach the Force with her emotions, and then only her strong emotions.
Dooku continued speaking. “Your passions are your power. You must learn to direct them, slow them when subtlety is needed, stir them when you face your enemies.”
For several long moments he paused, as if waiting for her to say something. When the silence drew out, he spoke again. “Have you ever had to withhold your wrath from your prey, even for a short time?”
Sri nodded sharply. “Yes.”
“How?”
“I had to stop and gather myself to destroy them.”
“Do you remember what it feels like, Sri?”
The Twi’lek glanced back at him again and snapped, “What does this have to do with anything?”
“Just think. Do you remember how waiting felt?”
“Of course I do!”
“Good.” Another sphere came to rest on the floor in front of her. “Try again, but this time, think of the waiting. Think of the simmering emotion underlying that—and don’t break the sphere.”
Sri rolled her eyes and closed them once more. What a fool this man was. Waiting? Concentrating on her feelings? Really? She’d do what he said, just to show him that he’d failed.
The wind started to rise once more. The Lethan breathed slowly. She was facing an enemy. He was firing at her. She was blocking his shots, spinning her lightsabers into an impenetrable shield, crouching slightly to remain behind the whirling, shimmering light. Her power was growing, welling within her like the waters of a rain pooling in a cistern. The man rose up into the air—slowly, not with the crushing force she usually applied. He rose several feet into the air, then slowly began the descent. One…two…three heartbeats passed. Four…five…six…seven…
A soft clatter touched her, and she opened her eyes. The sphere sat on the ground five inches to the left of where it had been before, unharmed.
Behind her, Dooku said quietly, “Very good, Sri. You have taken a new step into—“
Sri flung herself to the side. A shining blue blade missed her by mere millimeters.
The girl’s head snapped up, her eyes glowing with rage. That son of a bitch had attacked her! She was on her feet instantly; her lightsabers flew to her hands and blazed to life as she propelled herself towards the Count. Dooku darted to the side, easily avoiding her initial attack—he was smiling, Sri noted. She slashed backwards at him without pause. The two azure blades clashed together. The Twi’lek spun around to continue, drawing her green saber back to deliver a quick thrust towards his abdomen.
When you use my blade, remember me, and never, never use it in anger.
The girl gritted her teeth and ripped herself away from her master without finishing the thrust, choking back a shriek of rage. Damn Tion for writing that!
She couldn’t use her green lightsaber unless she forced herself to calm down—Tion had saved her life with his own, and self-sacrifice was one of the few things she truly respected. Desecrating his memory by ignoring his final wish wasn’t an option. Throwing away the green saber also wasn’t an option, as she was only used to fighting with two blades. Though she usually didn’t relegate either blade to only being for defense or attack, she would have to do so now. Sri parried two loose, but precise attacks from Dooku. Her green saber seemed to move with a mind of its own, defending its wielder from the slow, deliberate blows of Dooku’s lightsaber while her blue blade attempted to eviscerate or dismember the old Jedi.
Sri closed her eyes and allowed herself to slip into her center. She sank into a pool of water. Her head went under, but her feet touched the bottom. All sounds were muffled. She felt cool, weightless in the still liquid. It was…almost tranquil.
Her eyes opened, and she brought the green saber to bear, aiming two quick slashes at Dooku’s ankles, hoping to cripple him. He deflected the lightsaber easily. Much to Sri’s surprise, he took a few steps back, saluted her with his own saber, and deactivated it.
“Very good.”
“Very good!” Sri shouted, feeling her anger rise the surface once more now that she had no need to use Tion’s weapon. “You tried to kill me!”
“I had no intention of doing so,” Dooku replied matter-of-factly. “Had you not moved, I would’ve stayed my blade. If I had attacked you in earnest, you would be lying dead right now.”
Sri smirked slightly, almost bitterly. “Sure, old man. If you weren’t trying to murder me, why’d you attack in the first place?”
“To see if you could keep control in a supposed life-and-death situation.”
“And your verdict?”
“Excellent, for a beginner. Most who walk your path have far more trouble adapting to the ways of the Jedi than you have so far.”
Sri’s smirk tightened. “Yea, thanks a lot. You’re a big help.”
Dooku’s eyes showed the faintest hint of amusement; he drew his lightsaber once more. “I’m happy to be of service. Are you prepared?”
The Twi’lek grinned ferally and took a defensive stance. “Bring it on, old man.”
Almost before she realized it, Dooku’s blade was practically touching her ribs. She swore and knocked the lightsaber aside; its tip singed her shoulder armor. Sri parried the weapon as it drew back, threatening to bisect her.
A few instants later, Sri found herself struggling to keep up with the old man’s lightsaber. Dooku’s style was unlike any she had seen, as flowing and smooth as sand drifting across a dune, but as quick and deadly as a lylek’s poison. It was all she could do to keep his blade from slashing through her flesh—attacking him was out of the question. Sri gritted her teeth, forcing herself to remain composed. If only she could unleash her wrath! Dooku would be cowering in moments!
Dooku shoved Sri’s emerald lightsaber aside and slashed at her, stopping just far enough away from her neck to not burn her. Sri froze; her black eyes locked with his brown ones. The silence was only broken by the low hum of the lightsabers.
After what seemed an eternity, Dooku turned off his lightsaber. He smiled—a genuine smile, something Sri really hadn’t expected to see—and nodded slightly. “Excellent. For one so young and untrained to have lasted so long against a Jedi Master is remarkable. Your power is great.”
Sri lowered her own blades. “Untrained?” She laughed harshly. “I was trained for years, Dooku.”
“By those who could not feel the Force,” the ex-Jedi finished. “Without training by those who can use the Force, one’s power is significantly suppresed. It is fortunate that you were found before you became too old to train.”
Something beeped three times, echoing in the dark room. Dooku sighed and hung his lightsaber back on his belt. “Excuse me. Meditate until I return.”
=-=-=-=-=-=
Dooku knelt in his quarters. A hologram of a robe-clad man appeared before him, his facial features concealed by his low hood.
The former Jedi asked in a low voice, “What is thy bidding, my master?”
=-=-=-=-=-=
Okay, once again...the chapter is far later than I thought it would be. My first beta reader took a couple months to get back to me, and my second beta reader still hasn't. >_< I'm really sorry, folks.
Well, again...criticisms and comments are both welcome. Especially criticisms, since this chapter has only been beta'd once.
PS: Actually, I'm not sure this is the copy that my first beta reader sent me. My computer has died twice since she gave it back to me, so...yeah. I think this is it, but it might be an old version. :/
Sorry again.
No apologies are need, Endo! Quite an interesting chapter this one is.
Dooku as her teacher? Interesting indeed....
One thing I have to comment on though.. Now, I not one to disagree with a bit of 'swearing' here and there in a story, in my opinion, it adds a bit more realism to the characters and situation, but, for a Star Wars story, I've never really heard someone being referred to as a 'son of a bitch' before. It caught me a little off guard, but in a good way :)
My suggestion, however, is instead of that, how about putting something a little more natural to the SW universe? "Kath Hound", or, "mudcrutch" etc etc... I'm sure there are pages somewhere that have a whole list of names that one can call a person from SW. There has to be! Haha.
But I digress ... A nice addition, and I am particularly intrigued as to what will become of Sri now that, in the care of Dooku, she is a lot more closer to the Sith, than the Jedi.
As always, looking forward to more Endo :)
One thing I have to comment on though.. Now, I not one to disagree with a bit of 'swearing' here and there in a story, in my opinion, it adds a bit more realism to the characters and situation, but, for a Star Wars story, I've never really heard someone being referred to as a 'son of a bitch' before. It caught me a little off guard, but in a good way :)
My suggestion, however, is instead of that, how about putting something a little more natural to the SW universe? "Kath Hound", or, "mudcrutch" etc etc... I'm sure there are pages somewhere that have a whole list of names that one can call a person from SW. There has to be! Haha.
Bleh. I knew I'd forgotten to change something in there. :lol: I just put the "son of a bitch" in as a placeholder when I was writing 'cuz I didn't want to stop right then and look up something good to replace "bitch", and, uhh...yeah. >_< Whoops!
But I digress ... A nice addition, and I am particularly intrigued as to what will become of Sri now that, in the care of Dooku, she is a lot more closer to the Sith, than the Jedi.
As always, looking forward to more Endo :)
Ooo. Now I feel like writing more of the next chapter. :lol:
Just a tip, guys: Endy doesn't respond to whip lashings. Believe me, I've written with her. She's much more responsive to gentle nudging and guilt. :xp:
I've been meaning to take a look at this ever since I popped up again, but have been putting it off for various reasons. I'm out of reasons now, though, and I'm happy to say I've resisted the urge to blow through the whole thing in ten minutes - as tempting as it was - and've spent the last two-ish days (not counting the forum's downtime yesterday) reading through it slowly.
Your story was engaging right from the off, even during the parts you mentioned you felt were slow or dull. This is, I think, primarily because of the characters, and their seemingly inherent likeability. A lot of people struggle with making the reader like their characters, and the story itself struggles as a result. Quite often, though, all it takes to make a character likeable is to make them believable; likeability comes naturally after that. This even applies to villains - despite being a total bastard, Gaeva’ib is still in a sense likeable because he's a bastard; he doesn't try to make excuses for what he's done, he's really just a selfish traitor. Sometimes such characters are more refreshing than the hopelessly tortured anti-hero figure many Star Wars villains are/become.
You've mentioned to me in the past that you don't feel you're often able to do canon characters justice. After your most recent chapters, I have to say I whole-heartedly I disagree. Your depiction of Count Dooku is spot on, in my opinion; far better than I feel I would be able to do with such a relatively unfamiliar (to me, anyway) and obscure character.
As for the technical side of the story, I can find very little to criticise beyond what's already been mentioned - occasional word usage slips (fewer and fewer as the chapters progress) and the like. You have an excellent balance of narrative, description, and dialogue, and I'd like to reiterate what Darth Yuthura said almost a year ago about the diversity of your descriptive words. I don't know if it comes naturally or if you occasionally need to pause and think or even use a thesaurus, but whatever you do, keep doing it. It's something maybe half of authors can do reliably, and even fewer are actually good at it. Well done.
All in all, this definitely deserves a place among the best the CEC has to offer. You say this was your first attempt at a fanfic, and the only reason I really believe that is because of the visible evolution and progression of your writing style over the course of its two year (!) life - everything else speaks of a talented, reasonably experienced author.
Keep going, Endy, you've got a great piece here.