#sith!dooku

Silently crying, Obi-Wan sat on his bed, with his legs crossed before him and the dead, truly dead body of Prancer, his pet resting in his lap. A shuddering breath escaped the ginger haired teenager and for a moment, his eyes blazed golden in rage. He had hated that boy since the day his father had brought him here. 

Obi-Wan sniffed and tried once again, to reanimate the dead Tooka once again. His mother had told him that the reanimation spell only worked ones… but he still had to try. Another wave of fresh tears escaped the teenager. He desperately wished his mother was here. She would know what to do… she wouldn’t have forgotten his birthday. But she was not here, she and Grandpa Yan were currently on a mission, retrieving something.

Gentle, Obi-Wan levitated the dead Tooka to the ground, where it remained without moving, just gone… dead. And such a pointless death, just because Anakin had been jealous, because he did not have a pet. Another wave of rage hit the young Sith and he fought to keep it down, he did not want to get his father’s attention. Then again, he would not get it anyway. No, Anakin Skywalker was the center of the long haired Sith’s attention, ever since he had brought the former slave with him from Tatooine. Obi-Wan wondered what his mother would have said to that, but she had already been gone at this point. 

For days it had gone like this. Anakin was getting all the attention and Qui-Gon had not even taken him to the animal market, like he had promised him weeks ago. It should have been his birthday present, a ‘real’ pet, meaning, a pet that was not dead. But perhaps it was for the better, otherwise would Anakin just kill it too in a fit of jealousy. And Qui-Gon had actually defended him, he had believed the tears face - that had obviously been a lie and complete fake - and said that it had been a mere accident. And he had said that Obi-Wan should not act like a little child, the Tooka had been dead long ago anyway. Needless to say, Obi-Wan had gone to his room and had not left ever since. 

The young Sith clenched his fists tightly on his lap and he was shaking. The dark side around him bubbled, but it was not fueling his anger, it was trying to comfort him. It helped, but just a little bit. It was more than he had gotten from his ‘father’, but was Qui-Gon still his father? Obi-Wan was not sure about it. It kind of felt like he had been replaced with a better model and it left him wondering if the older man had just picked him up all those years ago, because he had looked promising. And now that he had found Bratakin - that was Obi-Wan’s nickname for the unwanted intruder - who seemed even more promising, Qui-Gon had taken him in and forgotten about his first son.

Obi-Wan was surprised that he tasted blood, but then he realized that he had bitten his bottom lip. He spit it out, not caring that he had most likely ruined the carpet. It was not like anybody care. His mother would care, but again, she was not there.

Once again his eyes flashed golden, but this time, they stayed this way. Obi-Wan have had enough. He hated Anakin Skywalker, the feeling was mutual, from the very beginning. He had tried to be nice and understanding and all he had received from the blonde slave - that was all he would ever be in the ginger haired teenager’s eyes - was anger, hatred and jealousy. No more, Obi-Wan decided then and there.

He raised his right hand and made a few signs in the air. A green shimmering symbol appeared in the air. It was a simple triangle, whose tip was pointing upwards. It was the symbol for fire.* Not a moment later, the dead body caught flames. As if in trance, Obi-Wan watched how the greenish flames he had created with his Sith magic, consumed the dead Tooka until nothing remained, not even ash or the fire itself. He nodded to himself.

Then, the young Sith slid down from the bed and pulled a couple of bags from under it. It was either him or Bratakin and since his ‘father’ had already decided that Anakin was more important, Obi-Wan would go. With the use of the Force, he was directing a few possessions, mostly clothes, but also a few other things, into the bags. He would not stay in the same place that was home to Anakin Skywalker, only over his dead body. He may not be sure where he should go… though a few possibilities sprung to his mind.

Serenno was out, his Grandpa may be living there, but his mother or her husband would just come and get him then. With his uncle Cad was not possible either. He had to find the bounty hunter first and it was undoubtedly one of the addresses his mother would check first. She would most likely check with his uncle Hondo too, so Obi-Wan could not become a pirate either.

The teenager hummed in thought and watched how his clothes folded themselves and arranged themselves in the bag. He could always travel to Dathomir. Perhaps the Mother would even teach him a few new tricks. The Force swirled darkly around him and Obi-Wan knew, that he had found his way.

A firm knock startled the young Sith. A moment later the door opened and Qui-Gon stood in the threshold. It was typical for him to enter without waiting to be invited. Midnight blues eyes blinked in surprise. “What in the the name of Force are you doing?”

The lie came easily to his mind, “Just sorting through a few old things.”

The long haired man nodded. “Perfect, you can give what you don’t need, to Anakin.” Obi-Wan gritted his teeth and was glad that his back was turned towards the older man.

“Of course,” he said. He was going to burn everything that he would leave. Bratakin would NOT get anything more from him. He had already taken his only friends - Obi-Wan’s parents did not allow him to go out much, since the Jedi were a constant threat - he had taken his home and his family.

“Good. Dinner is ready.”

“I am not hungry,” was the automatic reply. It sounded very mechanic.

“Suit yourself.” The teenager listened how the door to his room was closed again. 

He had to sit down for a moment, but did not let go of the Force. His father had ALWAYS dragged him to dinner, unless he was sick, then he had made an exception sometimes. 

“He probably things I am still cross because of Prancer,” Obi-Wan mumbled to himself. “He is right, but I am not going anywhere near that bastard.” That and he truly was not hungry. After having to burn the body of his friend, his appetite had evaporated as well. Also, it would give him time to plot his escape. Though he suspected he could simply march out of the door when Qui-Gon was asleep and then take a transport of the planet. The older Sith would not notice anyway, perhaps around midday he would, but then Obi-Wan would be long gone. He let himself fall onto his mattress and looked at his ceiling. He should meditate. So Obi-Wan continued to stare at nothing in particular and he let the dark side flow through him.

He should have expected the boy to come sooner or later, but he didn’t. So the ginger haired teenager was surprised when the door to his room was opened a second time and with a loud bang. It had hit the wall.

He glared angrily at the arrogant boy, who stepped inside.

“I heard you’ve got something for me,” the blonde sneered and there was something in the brat’s eyes that Obi-Wan did not like.

“Get out of my room,” were Anakin clever, he would have noticed that the teenager’s voice was just a bit too calm and collected.

Anakin snorted, “So what is it?” His eyes turned to one of the lightsabers that still rested on Obi-Wan’s desk, the blonde’s intention was clear.

“Touch one and you find yourself in need of a new hand,” Obi-Wan threatened. He would not allow that damn thief to touch his lightsabers. The still new and shiny one, had been a birthday present from Yan. At least he had not forgotten Obi-Wan’s birthday. The other one, was the first that the teenager had ever made. He was still using it, though he wondered if he should switch to the new one or learn how to use two.

Out of instinct, the ginger haired Sith had called the weapons to his hand and not a moment too soon. Otherwise, Anakin would have undoubtedly taken one.

“Get. Out. Of. My. Room.” The older male repeated, in a dangerous tone.

“Or what?” challenged the intruder. “Are you going to hurt me? I will run to Dad then and I know he will believe me. What would happen to you then?” There was an ugly smirk on his features. 

That was it, Obi-Wan stood up from his bed and came dangerously close to the blonde. There was a flicker of uncertainty in the younger male’s eyes. “Who said that you were able to run, when I am finished with you?”

“I… I tell Dad.” His voice was quivering, he was obviously not used to Obi-Wan fighting back. But the teenager had have enough. He would cover and submit anymore, he would fight.

“Don’t tempt me,” he warned. Anakin audible swallowed, his eyes wide in fear and his body shaking. “Now, get out.” 

The blonde turned tail and vanished. Obi-Wan did not care, if he told Qui-Gon. He would leave this night, that was clear. He would go to Dathomir, become the greatest Sith in history, or at least a better one than Bratakin, and then he would kill the blonde. He would take his revenge, Anakin will die, by his hand…

Obi-Wan silently gazed out of the window into the endlessness of the galaxy. Stars were rapidly flying by, but that was to be expected, they were travelling in hyperspace after all. A bit more than half the way, was already behind him and by the time Qui-Gon MIGHT notice that he was missing, he would have reached his goal. Obi-Wan nodded. This was the path the Force send him on, he would not disappoint it…

*For those who are wondering, I am describing an alchemical rune. ^^

Also, decided to bring the plot a little further…

His Grandpadawan was foolish and reckless when his former Padawan was concerned. It was a trait he had undoubtedly inherited from his Master and also given to his own apprentice. Yan Dooku could only shake his head at the foolish youth, rushing ahead in battle, undoubtedly trying to protect his clones and Skywalker as well.

Yan never really cared about Skywalker. In his eyes, the boy was a disobedient, loud and arrogant child. He reminded the Sith Lord very much of Sidious, but that was another matter altogether.

Yan sighed mentally and motioned for the droid Commander to change formation. To an outsider, it would look like a strategic mistake, but Yan knew better. If it costs a thousand mindless battle droids to keep his Grandpadawan alive, then he would gladly sacrifice them. They weren’t of much worth and value anyway. But even if they were, they could never be as valuable as his Grandpadawan, who proudly led his clone army into battle.

Perhaps he is getting sentimental in his old age, or perhaps it is because the anniversary of Qui-Gon’s death is quickly approaching, but Yan allowed ANOTHER ‘mistake’ to occur that would leave the Seperatist’s base almost defenseless. He wouldn’t go through such drastic measures, hadn’t it been for his vision of his Grandpadawan’s death at this very day and on this very battlefield. The dark side user could not let that happen. He owed that much to Qui-Gon, his precious former Padawan, who had lit up his universe just by existing and being himself. That and in the few meetings he had had with Obi-Wan, Yan had come to like the ginger haired man. They had quite a few things in common, more than Yan and Qui-Gon ever had. Their etiquette and demeanor was identical, Obi-Wan certainly had the diplomatic skill that Yan had desperately tried to implant in Qui-Gon, but with not much success. Also, he knew that the Jedi was a very good player at Dejarik, due to his almost unrivaled strategic skills. He is less impulsive and reckless than Qui-Gon ever was and thank the Force that he did NOT inherit Qui-Gon’s terrible habit of bringing all kinds of strange and sometimes dangerous lifeforms back to the temple.

“Lock the doors, raise the guards. I want that EVERYTHING is secured, have you heard me? And ready my ship, I want to leave as soon as possible?”

Confused and scared servants looked at the panicked man. They could all agree on one thing, something was going on and it had to be bad for the usual cold and regal man to get so emotional and ‘uncivilized’ as he called it. Count Dooku was not one to fall into a panicked state, usually he was the only one who kept a calm mind even during the most dangerous situations.

Yan Dooku was everything but calm right now. The Force had revealed to him that his mate was coming to Serenno and the grey haired man wanted to be anywhere but here, when Jocasta arrived. The woman could be truly scary if she wanted to be, but combined with her vampire powers… he did not want to take any unnecessary risks. The best he could do, was flee and hope that his mate either left as soon as she had decided to pay him a visit or that her ire - which he could feel even over their tightly shielded pair-bond - had lessened. Both seemed unlikely to happen in the near future though and the former Jedi was fully prepared to hop for a couple of weeks from one planet to the next. As long as Jocasta would not get her hands on him, everything would be fine. 

“Sir?” the questioning voice was full of struggle and fear.

“What is it?” the count snapped. He did not like to be interrupted, especially not for pointless little things.

“A ship has landed near your estate,” he was rudely interrupted.

“What?” for a moment, panicked clouded his judgement. “Who is the pilot? Check, who the passengers were too.”

“There was only one lifeform on the ship, it is an elderly female woman. The guards say, that she has a lightsaber, though she does not look to be a Jedi…” he let the sentence trail off and decided it would be best to back up now, if the look in his master’s eyes was anything to go by.

Yan Dooku stood frozen in the middle of the hallway. His body was paralyzed in terror. He knew that every attempt to run now, would be fruitless, so it might be best, to simply face his fate and let the Force take him. 

A loud cracking sound could be heard throughout the whole building and a moment later, the walls shook. The Sith Lord flinched, when screams followed the sounds of destruction. It would be not much longer now until his mate had caught up to him and then… then.. well what then? He did not know what would happen then. Under normal circumstances Jocasta’s Jedi training would kick in, but he could feel that her vampire blood was running amok. There was no holding her back now and in such a condition, she was an unpredictable force of nature. Beautiful, but also deadly.

“Yan Dooku!” the furious yell would undoubtedly be heard far further than his estate. For a moment the Sith Lord thought about taking his own lightsaber and killing himself with it, it would surely be less painful. But it would also be the coward’s way out and he may be much, but NOT a coward, never a coward. With a shaky breath, he eventually accepted his fate and turned to where the quickly approaching footsteps came from and then, he held his breath.

Jocasta Nu looked even worse than Dooku had imagined. Of course he had imagined her to have blood red eyes and that her fangs would be showing, but he had certainly not expected the shadows that were dancing around her body. He knew - of course he did - that this was one of her vampire powers. The shadows were bowing to her will and could form almost anything she could think of and right now, they were forming two giant claws, but enough to hold a gundark at bay with ease.

“Jocasta, my beautiful mate. Time has truly been kind to you, you do look just as magnificent as the last time I saw you,” he tried to awake old feeling she MIGHT still be holding for him. The bond between two mated vampires could only be broken by death, but the love they once held, can vanish.

She hissed loud and dangerously low, before dashing forward. Dooku did not even try to dodge the attack, knowing that he would just anger her more and therefore make it even worse. 

The next thing he registered, was pain, followed by the awareness that he was pushed hard against a wall. His mate’s shadows were holding him in place and even if he had wanted to, he would not have been able to get a hold of his lightsaber this way.

“Pretty words won’t help you now, mate,” the last word was spat out in something akin to disgust.

Yan inwardly flinched. “Jocasta, I…

“Silence! I am talking now,” she growled and immediately, the Sith shut up. “have you ANY idea, what you did to me? Have you any idea how much it hurt after you just left, without a goodbye and without giving a reason? Do you even realize what it DID to me, when you were just gone?”

He was expected to answer, but only a small, “No,” escaped his mouth.

“Of course you didn’t!” she screamed, causing the walls to shake. “Because you always cared just for yourself. that’s the reason, why you fell to the dark side, isn’t it? Because of your stupid arrogance.” Her grip on him tightened.

“No,” he wheezed out, “I joined the dark side… because… the Senate is corrupt and… and the Order bow to them.”

“We do NO such thing.”

“But-”

“Don’t interrupt me!” she hissed. “And even if that were the case, have you even CONSIDERED talking to the Council or more specific to your old Master? You know as well as I do, that he would have listened. And do you truly think that you would have been alone? Have you forgotten your family? Have you forgotten me?” There was sadness and grief in her last question.

“Of course I haven’t,” he whispered.

“Then why did you leave?” she yelled.

“I… don’t know,” he said and surprised not only the female Jedi in front of him.

Slowly, very slowly, he was released again and lowered onto the ground. The female vampire before him was still beyond furious, but there was also something else in her eyes, something Yan had not expected to see there, not after all this time, not after all he had done.

“Jocasta…” he hesitantly stepped forward, reaching out with a shaky arm. 

She did not pull back, not even when he made contact with her arm and not even, when her mate pulled her close against him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair.

“Are you?” she did not return the embrace, she did not offer comfort, but neither did she pull back and Yan counted that as a small victory.

“Yes. I regret having left you and Qui-Gon… even Obi-Wan,” admitted the Sith Lord.

“Then why did you do it?” the head librarian would not stop with her questions. 

“I wanted to change the galaxy… change the Jedi.”

A moment of silence passed, then the female vampire stated in a calm voice, “You realize that this is not the right way?” 

“… I do… now,” he had seen it when Sidious has revealed his true plans. At first, Yan had truly been on the dark man’s side, but at some point, the man had revealed what kind of monster he really way and Dooku had started to doubt his way. The reunion with his mate and the reopening of there bonds were only increasing those doubts.

Sequel to Youngster VII

First Part can be found here.

Summary:  A Sith Knight battles his emotions... and challenges his old Master...

“We have been contacted by the Jedi Council,” Dooku stated without any emotions in his voice. Yet he stood tense on the small bridge in the garden Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had build so long ago. His wrinkled hands rested on the railing and he was looking at the clear water.

Obi-Wan hummed in acknowledgement. He was standing right next to his Grandmaster, his grandfather. His posture was relatively relaxed, except the arms he had crossed over his chest. He too looked at the water below them.

“I had expected them to react sooner or later. Anakin, Ahsoka and I never arrived on our intended goal after all… and we did not contact them, like we were supposed to.”

“You do not sound worried,” the older male observed.

“No, why should I? As far as they know, we have done nothing wrong, they cannot even prove that we lied to them. We could just say that we encountered you during our trip and decided to pursue you and somehow, all connections failed. And even if they suspect anything, what can they do? Throw us out of the Order? At this point not even Anakin and Ahsoka would care, they told me after I ordered them to leave. They refused, of course.”

“They share this lineage’s stubbornness,” he said fondly.

A smirk appeared on freckled features, but he did not explain why he smiled. Instead he said, “What did they sent? What were their words?” Dooku tilted his head in thought. “They demanded to know what you are up to. The Council explicitly ordered you three to return and they threatened with certain sanctions, should you refuse.” He did not need to elaborate.

“I see. Perhaps I SHOULD order Anakin and his Padawan to leave. We should pretend to need them to spy for us, otherwise they would just continue to refuse.” “What about you though? Are you ready to throw away the only life you have known until now? You are aware that Qui-Gon is on the best way of rehabilitation, he does not need you to be around the whole time, not anymore.”

“I am aware…” he hesitated, “but my place is no longer with the Jedi. I… I cannot forgive what they have done, I cannot forgive and I will never forget.” “Revenge is not our way,” his voice sounded warning and he finally turned to the younger man. When he did not immediately receive an answer, he stepped closer to the red haired Sith. “Obi-Wan…”

“I know,” he snapped and briefly turned his head to the older male, before gazing back into the blue river that reminded him so much of his father in all but blood. “I know,” he repeated in a calmer tone, “and I am not planning to take my revenge. But… but I cannot sit back and watch how the Jedi Order threatens and destroys everything I care about. I am not just talking about Qui-Gon, or you for that matter.”

“Obi-Wan, I am not sure I understand.”

The young Sith turned around and leaned against the railing leaning his head back, so that he could look up at the sky. “The galaxy is changing and it is clear the Jedi won’t adapt, won’t change their ancient ways. Let us not make the same mistake as them. We have a duty, to us and to the Force. We cannot leave the galaxy in darkness, not in the darkness Sidious wants it to fall.”

A sigh escaped the grey haired man and he suddenly looked his age. Also, sadness clouded his eyes. “I am not sure that we are able to do what you say. I am not the youngest, neither is my old apprentice… You… you and Ventress are our only future and the two of you cannot fight a whole war, it is not possible.”

“Perhaps not… perhaps it is. We will never know if we become cowards and hide… like them.” There was a gleam in his suddenly golden eyes that Dooku had only seen ones in his long life.

He had seen that look just one time, and it had been in Qui-Gon’s eyes, when he had brought a dirty ginger haired boy back home. When he, looking bad and dirty himself, had brought a small but determined child with him, which had given him a new purpose in life. Dooku had been skeptical about the lively boy at first, but he had also known that Qui-Gon would not abandon him at this point. The older Sith had soon discovered what the boy truly meant for his former apprentice and he had soon realized that he had saved the stubborn long haired male, in more ways than one, but mostly from himself. Obi-Wan had truly been a great addition in their small family, he had become their dark star, their hope and their strength.

A sigh escaped the older Sith and he slightly shook his head, but when he looked up again and locked his yellow eyes with Obi-Wan’s golden ones, everything was said. He would follow Obi-Wan, to the end of the galaxy and beyond.

“Thank you,” the accented voice was soft and with a last nod, Obi-Wan pushed himself away from the wooden railing and walked the way towards the sleeping area. He needed to talk to a certain blonde and a certain Togruta. He would not be responsible for their downfall, he had made a promise after all.

“But Obi-Wan,” the ginger haired Sith had expected his former Padawan to argue, but that he was THIS stubborn…

“Enough!” he bellowed and therefore surprised both him and Ahsoka. Even though they had got to know the more passionate side of him, they had not seen everything just yet. And perhaps this was even for the best. He took a deep breath. “Anakin, we need you back in the Order, I need you back in the Order. You and Ahsoka are the only ones that I can trust.”

Obi-Wan knew that he was playing dirty. He was toying with their guilt and their connection to him, but so were the ways of the Sith.

The young Knight was obviously battling with himself. Behind his eyes, raged a storm of emotions. He would have made an excellent Sith Warrior, but he had not been destined to become one, the Force had decided for a different fate and of course, Obi-Wan had followed its will.

“Are you sure that there is no other way?” he sounded almost broken, but the Sith could not let his attachment overrule his sense of duty and the Force, not now.

“I wish there were, believe me. I would rather have you at my side, both of you.” He pointedly gazed to the troubled female, before stepping over to the two sitting Jedi and putting a comforting hand on their shoulders.

“Will you be alright?” these were the first words the young Padawan spoke since Obi-Wan had called them into his private sleeping rooms.

He gave her an encouraging smile. “Of course I will, I won|t be alone after all.”

“I still don’t like it,” Anakin protested, but it was only half heartedly.

“I know,” he looked sad for a moment, before he shook his head and before he took a few determined steps towards his former Padawan. He kneeled down in front of the younger male and leaned up, until both their foreheads were resting together. This simple gesture alone, said more than a thousand words could and the Sith could feel the other’s inner turmoil start to calm. It was a beginning, even though it was a hard one.

“May the Force be with you, Master.” Anakin mumbled.

“And with you two,” Obi-Wan whispered right back.

“I had not expected them to leave so soon,” a sad baritone voice sounded behind the ginger haired Sith, who had felt the other’s presence a while ago.

“They do what the Force wills them to do,” he simply answered. What else was he to say? The truth? No, Qui-Gon would not understand it, or perhaps he would. But he would not approve of Obi-Wan’s choices.

“And what about you?”

“I too, am following the will of the Force,” he simply answered, without turning his eyes from the slowly shrinking transport ship on the horizon. He would miss them, Anakin, Ahsoka, as well as the clones and he made himself no false illusions in denying it. He would not hear from his former Padawan and his Grandpadawan anytime soon, they would be under supervision from now on, even when the Council believed their lie. They would be searched for any sign of darkness and it was to be expected. They would tell the Council that they had encountered Dooku and had been captured by them. Anakin and Ahsoka had escaped, while Obi-Wan’s status was… unclear. They would not say that he had abandoned the Jedi, Obi-Wan knew they wouldn’t. They would most likely tell them that Dooku was manipulating him. He mentally scoffed, as if he would allow that.

“Are you? Following the will of the Force, I mean,” there was a lot of doubt in his voice and Obi-Wan barely kept his temper in check.

Had he not been doubted enough in his life? The man had been imprisoned for years and despite their talks and the information and news they had provided him with, he did not really understand what had happened, what they had suffered through. And Obi-Wan would not allow him, even though Qui-Gon was technically his Master, to question his decisions, not know, when the future of the galaxy was threatened.

“Yes,” he finally turned around and locked his fiery golden eyes with Qui-Gon’s surprised blue ones, “Believe it or not, you are not the only one, following the Force’s guidance.” “I never said that,” the older male in the hoverchair protested.

“You did not have to,” he walked past the weakened Sith, not saying another word. In silence, did Obi-Wan cross the threshold and entered the palace like building, fully intending to meditate in his private rooms, where nobody would disturb OR question him.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Obi-Wan should have expected the other’s stubbornness and persistence.

“I’m tired,” he said instead, avoiding actually answering the question. He could feel Qui-Gon’s irritation in the Force. It had steadily grown these last few days and it would be only a matter of time until the long haired Sith exploded. Until then, Obi-Wan would continue with his little games, like nothing was happening.

“I am too, yet you do not hear me making false assumptions,” his tone held a certain edge to it, that made Obi-Wan stop dead in his tracks and whirl around to face the stubborn man.

“You are right, I don’t hear any assumptions from you. But that is not because of your so great control, but because you never share your thoughts to begin with. You never did when I was your apprentice and you still don’t now, when I am technical your equal.” He hesitated. “Though we both know, who would win in a fight…” he let the words trail off.

Qui-Gon seemed shocked by the sudden outburst and the unexpected hostility from the younger man. He was searching and fighting for words, until he opened his mouth again.

“How… how DARE you speak to me like this? I am your Master,” Qui-Gon said slightly irritated.

“Are you?” he questioned, completely emotionless.

Midnight blue eyes blinked. “What do you mean? Or course I am. What has gotten into you all of a sudden?”

Obi-Wan hummed, “I wonder… are you still the same man that the Jedi took all those years ago, or have you changed?”

“I have changed of course, but so have you and…” he did not come further.

“Then how do I know that you are still my Master? How can I be sure of that, how can I be sure of anything? Everything around me is falling apart, everything is changing so quickly. The unifying Force is in uproar and yet…” he abruptly stopped talking.

“Child?”

“Never mind,” he vehemently shook his head to clear his thoughts, “I need to meditate.”

“Very well,” he was clearly not happy with the way Obi-Wan had ended their conversation. The younger Sith could actually see the hurt and betrayal in the other’s eyes, but right now, he could not bring himself to care.

He needed time, he needed rest. He was losing his mind, his sanity and Obi-Wan knew it. When he didn’t find a solution or at least some serenity soon, then Dooku would have another mental case under his roof. And who would protect the innocent and the galaxy then?

Obi-Wan slightly bowed his head to the sitting man, who made no move to copy the small sign of respect. The young Sith was not surprised. Qui-Gon felt insulted, his pride was deeply hurt and he would undoubtedly continue to be offended for a little while. Obi-Wan could not care less. He was not the one, who had nightmares almost every night and needed soothing. No, he had Force visions, but during the time without his Master, his father, he had learned how to deal with them, alone.

Without another word, the ginger haired male turned around and left the man in the hoverchair behind him, without looking back and without noticing the longing look in midnight blue orbs.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” his voice was quivering, but Obi-Wan didn’t care. If there was one person in the whole galaxy that he could trust with his feelings and fears, then it was his soon to be wife.

“I wish I could help you,” Satine replied. Her eyes were sad, he could see that even through the holo transmission.

“I know… and you have no idea how much that means to me.” That was the truth.

A gentle smile appeared in the female’s features and her eyes were suddenly full of love. Oh, how the young Sith wished Satine were here, but he could not, would not, threaten her life just to see her.

Obi-Wan sighed. “It feels like I am reaching the end of the rope. I know that Sidious is closing in and that his darkness threatens to take over… and now I have the Jedi to worry about. And Qui-Gon… he… he doesn’t see that he still needs time to recover. He doesn’t realize that so much time has passed, that both Dooku and I have changed. He treats me like his apprentice, like I was just knighted…”

“It is hard for him,” she said gently. “What would you do, beloved? Imagine your places were switched. Imagine that you spent years in captivity, cut from the Force and from everything you know and care about.” She shook her head, “Obi-Wan, you don’t know what they told him. He could have believed you dead for all we know. It is a normal human reaction of him. His mind cannot, does not want things to have changed and therefore he treats you like this.” Obi-Wan understood what his almost wife was saying, he understood it perhaps better than anybody else. “He has to adapt,” he said lamely.

“And he will, I am sure of it. He just needs time beloved… and he has to see and experience his limits on his own.”

“You are right,” there was a sad smile on his bearded features. “As always you are absolutely right. Why haven’t I contacted you sooner?”

The blonde shrugged, “Probably because you are a very stubborn man.”

“I got that from him, no doubt.” He was actually able to chuckle at this. With another sigh he leaned back into the comfortable chair again, snuggling into the soft cushions. His Grandmaster did not only have style, he knew how to make his home comforting and cozy as well. “Yet… I still don’t know what to do about the rising threat.” “What does the Force tell you?”

Obi-Wan smiled at her pretense to understand the ways of the Force. In all reality, she had no idea how it worked, just like all the other non-Force users, but at least she tried her hardest. “It is silent on the whole matter.” Satine made a humming sound and seemed to ponder about it. “Perhaps… perhaps it just wants you to continue what you are doing. What is the last… order, the Force has given you?”

The young Sith closed his eyes and searched his memory. It was a tedious task and usually he would have entered a light meditation for it, but this time, he refrained from doing so. He didn’t want to lose himself in the chaos that the Force currently was, it always gave him a headache and he did not need that now, not on top everything else.

“The last time it spoke clearly… it wanted me to safe and take care of Qui-Gon,” he eventually replied hesitantly.

She nodded. “Perhaps this is still what you are supposed to do. You know, people who have suffered through such traumatic experiences, tend to have a relapse more often than not. This might be the Force’s way of telling you to stay put.” Obi-Wan nodded in thought. “I will think about it, thank you. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Satine shrugged and wore a challenging smile on her features, “I think it is better that we don’t have to find out,” she winked and Obi-Wan could not help but join her merry laughter.

 After they had exchanged their goodbyes and promises for a better future together, especially on Obi-Wan’s part, the ginger haired Sith shut down the connection. His almost wife was right, as usual. He should be patient and wait for the Force to tell him more. Forcing the issue would not help him at all, he should know better, he did know better, but sometimes… sometimes it needed somebody with a clear head to look through the fog. A sudden thought hit him. Neither Qui-Gon, nor Dooku knew about his engagement yet, he had forgotten to tell them during the whole commotion. A mistake, he had to rectify immediately. And who knew, it might cheer them all up again. The Force knew they could need it.

Dinner was a dull affair. Dooku was deep in thoughts and staring a hole in the table, Qui-Gon was sulking and not in a good mood and Asajj had caught the mood and reacted by keeping silent. The tension was heavy, even when Obi-Wan entered. Dooku briefly nodded at him, Asajj sent him a genuine smile and a brief shrug of her shoulders and Qui-Gon did not even look his way.

Midway during dinner, the ginger haired Sith couldn’t take the depressing silence anymore. “I ehm…eh… I am engaged,” he had absolutely no idea how to say this, it was not like he got engaged every day.

Dooku spoke first, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Engaged Obi-Wan? Engaged in what?”

Even Qui-Gon looked up in interest. Obi-Wan put away his flatware and leaned back in the chair he was sitting on, across from Dooku, who was seating the head of the table. Thankfully the table was small enough to hold a normal conversation, without screaming and yelling.

The young Sith groaned and he dropped his forehead in his hand, because of his stupid choice of words. “No, not…” he sighed, “I am engaged… like in a marriage.” A cluttering sound could be heard and it sounded like flatware that hit an empty plate. “Wait what?” this was Asajj’s voice.

He looked up and regretted ever saying anything. This was highly embarrassing. “I am going to be married.”

Dooku and Qui-Gon exchanged looks and Asajj simply stared at him, mouth gaping and in utter disbelief. “You, I mean you of all people, are getting married?”

“Asajj,” Dooku’s tone was scolding and he glared at her. The white haired man sat straighter and he too put his flatware away. He leaned forward and braced his chin atop his clasped hands, while his elbows came to rest on the table. “And who might this lucky woman be?”

“Or man,” Qui-Gon added and he shrugged at the disgusted look Dooku was sending his way. The long haired man had always been more open to same-sex relationships, than Dooku. Hell, he had even told Obi-Wan in private that, if he truly preferred the same gender, he would still love him very much and also support him in any way possible. Obi-Wan had not needed the reassurance, but it had still been a nice gesture.

“You know her,” he sent a significant look towards his Grandmaster, who seemed more at ease now that the gender was clear. Always those tradition loving people, Obi-Wan thought amused. “She is the duchess of Mandalore.” “Satine Kryze,” Qui-Gon interrupted in awe. His eyes were suspiciously bright and his lively spirit seemed to return to him.

“Oh great,” Asajj groaned, “more royalty…” She was ignored by everyone.

“And when will the festivities take place?” Obi-Wan wondered why Dooku always fell into formal speech as soon as others were present or when – in his eyes – important things needed to be discussed.

Obi-Wan avoided everyone’s gazes and instead focused on the half empty plate in front of him. “We decided to postpone the actually wedding to a time, when the war is over.”

“Bullshit,” exclaimed the female Sith.

“Asajj Ventress, guard your tongue. I do not want such fool language at my table or anywhere else in my home,” Dooku sounded everything but amused.

“She is right though,” Qui-Gon again, “Why wait? Especially in war you should act. You cannot be sure that you survive, neither can Satine for that matter. Who knows, afterwards it might be too late.” Had Obi-Wan mentioned that he hated to talk about his personal feelings? “I don’t want to make a rash decision,” he mumbled.

“Obi-Wan, sometimes…” the bald Sith assassin sighed in annoyance and leaned on her elbows, closer towards the ginger haired man, “The fact that you are this cautious and that you want it to work, should be reason enough to just do it.”

“Indeed, why postpone?” asked Dooku. Obi-Wan did not say anything. He didn’t know what he was supposed to reply. Suddenly a large hand landed on his thigh and squeezed in a comforting manner. Startled, he looked up, only to find himself gazing into compassionate blue eyes.

“Don’t listen to them, do what you think is right,” his smile was gentle and reassuring and Obi-Wan could not help but smile back. He took the larger hand in his own and squeezed right back. And once again, Qui-Gon was reassuring him, telling him he was his own man. It was as if nothing had changed.

A sudden realization hit him. A lot of time has passed and some things have changed, but not everything. Qui-Gon would always come to his aid and tell him to be his own man, he would always assure him that his decisions – especially concerning personal matters – were his own and therefore always right, at least as long as he was satisfied with them. Perhaps this was exactly what Satine had meant...

“Congratulations, little one,” Qui-Gon said.

It was an impulsive decision on Obi-Wan’s part, when he stood up and took the few steps towards the long haired man, just to hug him tightly. “Thank you,” he mumbled against the long haired man’s neck, “father.”

He felt Qui-Gon release a shaky breath, but before he could comment on it, did the older Sith tighten his own embrace. When he pulled back, midnight blue eyes sparkled with mirth.

“Make no mistake child, I fully expect to properly meet my daughter in law as soon as possible.”

“Of course,” he said.

“Qui-Gon,” Dooku demanded attention, “I hope you understand the responsibility you will have then. Not only as father, but as grandfather. It will be your duty to attend to the little ones’ needs and it won’t be done with spoiling them, let me assure you.”

“Little ones? As in more than one?” Asajj grinned, “A good thing that I am just the aunt, who can spoil them rotten!”

“Excuse me?” Obi-Wan stood facing both his sister and grandfather in all but blood.

“I agree with Obi-Wan, no children!” Qui-Gon said.

“Hah, you only fear being called ‘old’,” the female Sith boldly replied.

“Careful Asajj, you are not only insulting me with that statement.”

The female in question furrowed her brows, not quite sure what he meant. Dooku decided to ‘help’ her, by clearing his throat and raising an eyebrow in his typical manner. Sudden realization hit the female and a sheepish grin appeared on her features.

“I speak only the truth,” she said, though she shouldn’t have, for it was the start of a heated bickering between Asajj and her Master.

 Obi-Wan allowed himself to sigh. When the two were at it, it could take hours until they had calmed down again. He sent a brief glance towards Qui-Gon, who was shaking his head and wore a suffering look on his bearded features. He looked like Obi-Wan felt.

Deciding that he could only succumb to his fate, did the ginger haired Sith put his hands on the backrest of his former Master’s chair and leaned on it. Qui-Gon did not seem to him, he actually leaned his head back to gaze up at him. He gave in to his brief desire and leaned down, circling the older Sith’s neck with his arms so that his left cheek was still pressed against Qui-Gon’s right one. Almost immediately did a hand rise to cover the free side of Obi-Wan’s face and a single thumb made soothing motions.

There was a brief hesitation, before Obi-Wan uttered his next, carefully chosen words. “I am sorry for what I said earlier. You will always be my Master and more, it’s just…” he sighed, “I guess I am under a lot of stress…” he trailed off.

“I know,” Qui-Gon whispered right back. They did not have to talk so loud, they were right next to each other after all. “You have become your own man, Obi-Wan. You learned to be independent. You had to look out for yourself and for your Padawan after all. And you did an amazing job.”

A small smile found its way on Obi-Wan’s features and he allowed himself to just enjoy the moment for a few seconds. Dooku and Asajj were still bickering in the background and therefore completely oblivious to the important dialogue between former Master and former apprentice, between father and son.

“I missed you,” the blue-green eyed Sith eventually said.

“I missed you too.” Obi-Wan felt the other’s movements and he knew that Qui-Gon had closed his eyes. The taller man took a deep breath, “I wanted to give up so many times, but… but every time I was on the verge of, you know, death… you sprung to the front of my mind and I was reminded that there is still something, someone out there, for whom I had to fight.” This revelation hurt and the younger male was battling against unbidden tears. He had to press his eyes tightly shut to keep them from falling and he pressed his lips together to keep from sobbing. The hand on his head, tightened its hold and pressed him even closer.

Only when Obi-Wan had more or less gained control over his emotions again, did he speak up once more, “I am glad you did.”

“So am I, my son, so am I.” His voice was suspiciously shaky and when the younger man pulled back, just enough so that he could look into the other’s face, he saw wet and glistening midnight blue eyes.

Without thinking about it, Obi-Wan leaned forward and pressed a loving kiss against a bearded cheek. It was just as lovingly returned.

“I am glad to have you back.”

“I am glad to be back… though a lot has changed.” A sigh, “Perhaps you are right. I need to step up from my high podium. It is about time that I realize that things are not like I want them to be anymore. I simply have to be patient to find my place again.”

“I will gladly help you,” it was vow and promise.

“I know you will,” he smiled.

“But,” Obi-Wan briefly looked in the direction of the bickering pair, “for now I suggest that we make a hasty retreat and leave them to their bickering. Perhaps we can find a more pleasurable activity to waste our time.”

“Yes, please,” Qui-Gon replied laughing.

The ginger haired Sith stood up and helped his elder do the same. They did say nothing else, just walked out of the dining room, it was not like Asajj and Dooku would have noticed anyway.

“So…” Qui-Gon began when they were in the hallway and he had a tone in his voice that caused all alarm bells to spring to life in Obi-Wan’s head, “Satine Kryze…”

“The archives are closed,” her smokey voice stated calmly. 

“But Master Nu, I-”

She did not let the poor Padawan finish. “I said, the archives are closed.” This time there was a certain ring to her tone. It was clear from the blazing in her eyes that she was not amused and she was certainly not going to repeat herself another time.

The poor Padawan, a female human girl, paled visible and knew better than to test her luck. She simply bowed to the leader of the archives and turned tail, deciding to ask her Master for help for her essay.

Meanwhile Jocasta Nu rubbed a hand over her face and turned around to step back into her sacred rooms. She let the door slide close behind her and locked them, making sure the light outside the door was on. It signaled that nobody was too enter the library, not even Council members. At least not without her permission and she would not grant them anybody, not today. 

The female Master strode towards the reception and let herself fall on one of the chairs behind it. She buried her wrinkled face in her hands, but did not cry, she was still stronger than that. But was she really? Of course there was sadness, a lot of it, but there was also anger. She was angry, an emotion that no Jedi should feel and experience. It led to the dark side.

A huff escaped her. Wasn’t this just ironic? Had she not lost enough to the dark side already? Now a single tear DID escape her blue eyes and slid unbidden down her cheek. How could he have done it? Why did he leave her alone? Was it truly because of the dark side or had his words been true, that he simply could not serve a corrupt system? She did not know and she guessed she would never know.

She only knew that Yan had left, without saying goodbye, without telling her anything about his plans. He had simply left and he had NOT taken her with him. It left her wondering. Had everything been a huge lie?

“Oh Yan…” she took a shaky breath and released it again, fighting the moisture that was struggling to escape. “What has happened to you… to us?”

Somehow Yocasta Nu knew that her questions would never be answered. Something told her that she would never see her lover again, yet she still hoped that she was wrong. She could not to believe that Yan had betrayed both the Jedi and her.

Light:

“Good, good,” Sidious sick voice praised, his cold gold eyes resting on the Jedi, who had been thrown at his feet. Midnight blue eyes did not show any fear, when he returned the evil and amused glance defiantly. “Well done, my apprentices.” Obi-Wan and Xanatos bowed.

Dooku and his monster of an apprentice chose exactly this moment to enter the room. The older intruder stopped briefly, when his eyes caught sight of the captured Jedi, Maul gazed at the bearded male hungrily.

“We have done as you have told us, my Lord,” Dooku bowed as well, only the Zabrak did not show his respect. His attention was on the Jedi and there was lust and desire in his gaze, it was almost frightening.

Sidious nodded satisfied, “Maul,” that caught the Zabrak’s attention, “would you show our unexpected guest, our hospitality?” The way the red and black Zabrak’s expression turned into an ugly grin, sent shivers down Obi-Wan’s spine and when the almost unnoticeable tremble in Xanatos was any indicator, than he was not the only one.

“With pleasure,” a flicker of fear passed the Jedi’s features. Obi-Wan was sure that he was the only one, who had seen it, except Xanatos that is.

With that the Zabrak grabbed the taller male and literally dragged him behind him, the remaining people were excused then.

 Dooku soon returned to his quarters, but not before nodding towards Xanatos and Obi-Wan. He had been surprised about their success, that much was clear. And he was also man enough to acknowledge the success.

“What is Maul going to do with Jinn?” Obi-Wan asked aloud.

Xanatos looked at him briefly, “I don’t know, but,” before he could finish his sentence, a loud scream tore through the building. Maul’s quarters were close and the two men did not have to guess that Qui-Gon had been brought there.

“Was that,” Obi-Wan’s voice shook a little, but he did not care.

His companion was not faring better. His gaze looked in the direction, from where the terrible sound had come from. “Yes,” he whispered, then shook his head and quickly turned the other way. Confused, Obi-Wan followed him. He had to run to keep up with the older male.

They only stopped, when they had reached the door to Dooku’s chambers. Even here the pained screams could be heard, but they were already much quieter. Xanatos literally hammered against the door and only a moment later, did an irritated Dooku open.

“Forgive me my intrusion Master, but I wondered if you would allow my apprentice entrance... the screams are very loud where our rooms are.”

Dooku looked them both over, his face also held an unreadable expression. “Come in, both of you,” with that he stepped aside and allowed them entrance.

 The three males sat a little awkwardly on the black leather couches of Dooku’s living room. Everything in the quarters looked expensive and valuable. Obi-Wan was almost afraid to touch something.

“This is not what I wanted,” he said without even realizing it. Two set of eyes rested on him.

“Neither I,” Xanatos was the first to speak up again and he caught the Padawan’s attention, who blushed at his break in control.

“Nor I,” Dooku admitted. He looked troubled too, it was clear that he did want the torture to end as well.

Blue-green eyes looked between the two older males. In this moment, he realized something. The three of them were quite different, yet there was something that connected them together, that pushed their darkness away from all their hearts, it was Qui-Gon Jinn.

“We can’t allow this to continue,” Obi-Wan felt sick to his stomach, when another pained cry could be heard.

“He has gone too far,” it was clear, to whom Xanatos was referring.

“Maul is a monster and Sidious should never have kept him,” Dooku cut in. “Look or rather hear, what he is already capable of. Imagine how he will be, when he is crafted to Sidious’ pervert wishes.” Obi-Wan shuddered.

“Could it be,” the ginger haired male said slowly, “that this is all a big mistake?”

“You mean joining the dark side?” Xanatos chuckled, but without any joy, “Of course it is.” That surprised the two other males in the room.

“You,” Obi-Wan swallowed the lump in his throat, “you don’t want to use the dark side anymore?” “No... I don’t know what changed though.”

“I think I know the answer to that,” the grey haired Master spoke up. Two pairs of eyes settled on him, but he just waved his hand at the youngest in their midst. “The darkness can only be destroyed by light.”

“Of course,” Xanatos spoke up again, “we were all so blind.”

“What are you talking about?” the ginger haired teenager wanted to know.

“We are talking about you, Obi-Wan,” he pushed a few strands of black hair out of his face, “I think the time you spent with us... might have influenced us more than the other way around. We think that your unwavering bright presence might have driven the dark fog in our minds away.” Dooku nodded at that. Another moment of silence passed between the three males, in which they all pondered about the newest revelation. Then, “What are we to do about Sidious and Maul then?”

Shadow:

“Master,” the fallen Jedi made sure that his voice sounded worried and apologetic. He let himself slide to his knees and he bowed his head. “Forgive me.”

“For what?” the man’s voice was unfamiliar cold. “For killing two beings, one of them my former Master, the other my former Padawan, or should I forgive you for betraying and lying to me? Or perhaps you are asking forgiveness for falling to the dark side? Tell me, which one is it?” The usually composed Jedi Master was angry.

“Forgive me for not fighting more against the Council, for succumbing to their wishes and Orders,” that made the long haired man take a surprised step back. His lightsaber was still activated, but the angry and distrustful expression had turned to shock.

“What do you mean?”

“I am referring to my mission, Master.” “There is no mission!” thundered the older male.

Tortured blue-green eyes looked finally up, “There was, there IS. It is a secret mission,” he looked at his hands, which were resting in his lap. “I was supposed to infiltrate the Sith in order to find their leader and to sent the information to the Council. Just, things got quickly out of hand and unexpected enemies arrived. I wouldn’t have killed them, if they had not been too deeply anchored in the dark, you have to believe me!”

“I don't know if I can,” the words would have hurt Obi-Wan, where he still the stupid little Padawan, but since he pretended to be, he pretended to be hurt by those words too.

“I understand,” he mumbled, he bowed his head again.

Neither male said another word for the next few minutes. It was clear that Qui-Gon was thinking about his next steps. He was unsure, that much was palpable in the Force. He was afraid that Obi-Wan had become just like Xanatos, but the ginger haired teen had not become like the dead raven haired Sith, he was better. Or worse, depending on your point of view.

“And I will surrender to you, so that you and the Council may judge me and my actions.” That certainly took the Jedi by surprise.

The bearded man slowly stepped forward. Obi-Wan stayed where he was, not moving a single muscle. He didn't want to scare his former Master and perhaps future student away, at least not yet.

“I believe in second chances,” Qui-Gon eventually said. He was standing directly in front of the kneeling figure, who only tilted his head enough, so that he could look at the dark brown boots right in front of him.

“I already had mine… and look where it got me,” he sounded pathetic even to his own ears.

“It left you in a… bad situation,” the Jedi admitted and Obi-Wan knew that he was nodding his head, “You were ordered by the Council to accomplish this mission, you said. There you have it. Your desire to prove your worth has brought you in this situation, it was undoubtedly the fear of being casted aside that allowed the darkness to take hold in the first place. Therefore I will do the only logical thing,” he stopped talking and moved so fast that Obi-Wan could not have reacted, even if he had wanted to. Before he knew it, he found himself in a tight embrace of the older male, his head pressed against the other's shoulder. It was surprisingly comforting. Perhaps this was truly what he had missed… but being with the dark side gave you the ability to take whatever you wanted.

The ginger haired male hid his evil grin in the other's chest and his hands fisted in his beige tunic. “I am terrible sorry Master,” he 'cried' against the older man.

“It is me, who is sorry my Padawan. I should have seen your fears and I should have conquered them with trust and perhaps even with love,” he hesitated, “I promise that from this point on, I will never abandon you ever again.”

“Truly?” things were working better than Obi-Wan had expected. Oh, how love could blind people.

“Truly dear one,” the arms around him tightened.

The teenager pulled finally away, pretending to wipe away a few fake tears. He looked up and found himself gazing right into midnight blue eyes that held so much love and hope that it was truly disgusting to the young Sith. One would think that Qui-Gon had learned after Xanatos, but apparently this was not the case. Some people simply did not learn from their mistakes and some people were meant for more than the bright life of a Jedi.

“Master,” the teenager exclaimed, “the Sith Lord.”

Qui-Gon looked confused and perhaps a bit surprised at the unexpected outburst from his Padawan. “What about him?”

“He is still here… I can still feel his presence. If we hurry...” he let the sentence trail off.

Qui-Gon looked at the dead bodies on the sandy ground with a big frown on his features. Then his eyes turned back to Obi-Wan, who was getting up from his kneeling position. He offered the older male a hand. Hesitantly a large calloused hand, took a much younger one.

“Very well Padawan, if you are sure that we can face him and if you are sure that this is indeed a good idea,” he took a deep breath through his nose, “I trust you.”

Sequel to 'Youngster VI' 

Summary: A Sith Knight slowly reaches his limits...

“What about Geonosis?” Anakin eventually asked. He was not comfortable with the direction this was going. He also did not like how all the attention in the room suddenly was on him and Dooku.

Dooku cleared his throat, he too did not seem too eager to continue this very conversation. “I have come to realize that our meeting there, might not have gone the way I intended it to.”

Anakin suspected that it was Obi-Wan, who had beaten some sense into him, but he was smart enough not to mention that. “You mean when you cut off half my arm?” he deadpanned instead.

A snort sounded through the room, the source was without doubt a certain female Sith assassin, who quickly scrubbed more fiercely over her lightsabers. Dooku sent her an evil glare that was promptly ignored. The blonde Knight stopped himself from looking anywhere but at Dooku.

“Indeed,” the older man shifted in his seat, before he leaned forward, bracing his arms on the table, “I came to the conclusion that my actions were unnecessarily aggressive and forward. I want to express my deepest apology for your misery.”

Anakin arched an eyebrow. “You want to say that you are sorry and that you made a mistake, right?”

The older male was a little bit taken aback by the bluntness. “Yes, this is what I intend to say.”

“Alright,” now it was Anakin’s turn to lean forward and to rest his arms on the table, “first, drop the act and this terrible manner of speech, it’s giving me a headache. And secondly, forget about it, it is not like you can change it or something, besides, my new hand has advantages.” He grinned over the whole table, the two clones exchanged quick glances and Ahsoka just rolled her eyes.

“Very well then,” Dooku inclined his head. “I am glad that this disagreement is out of the world.”

The young Jedi nodded, “I just wonder, did Obi-Wan force you to apologize or do you mean it.” One of the Sith’s eyebrows twitched suspiciously, “We talked and young Kenobi and I came to the same conclusion.”

Sequel to ‘Youngster V’ 

Summary: A Sith Knight and his broken Master...

Obi-Wan Kenobi was not in a good mood. That much would have been obvious, even if his eyes had not turned golden in color. The ginger haired man was currently sitting aside from everybody else – ‘everybody’ included only Anakin Skywalker, Ahsoka Tano, Commander Cody and Captain Rex – in a secluded area of their small ship. His expression was grim and he was leaning forward in his seat, elbows resting on his knees and fingers crossed before his mouth. His two thumbs rested under his chin and held his head in place. Golden eyes were unfocused, staring at nothing in particular, but every time you turned to look at them, it felt like they were looking right into the deepest parts of your soul, at least that is what Anakin thought and he knew he was not the only one feeling this way.