A/N: Finally finished my paediatrics rotation. Thought I'd drop this here as a warm-up to get back to writing again. I know I said the next chapter would be Bail and Breha before Alderaan's destruction, but From a Certain Point of View covered that in canon. So have some Dooku instead :)

Chapter 6: Dooku, Qui-Gon's death

The news of Qui-Gon's death reaches the Temple just as Dooku returns from a self-imposed reconnaissance mission six grueling months long.

He had needed to see the state of the Republic for himself, without the Council's directives.

He stands there for a moment, in his spotless, impeccably furnished quarters, with the reek of a decaying Republic clinging to his sentinel-shadowed cloak, and stares at the comm in his hand; as if challenging it to repeat the report it has just produced in a metallic-edged voice devoid of all but professional calm.

Masters and Knights of the Order: We regret to report that Master Qui-Gon Jinn has rejoined the Force. He fell in the line of duty, protecting the Queen of Naboo as he was charged to do in his service to the Republic. Master Jinn's body has been returned to the Living Force on Naboo; for those who wish to attend and pay their respects, a separate memorial service will be held in the Hall of Eternal Rest at the sixth hour postmeridian, three days from the date of this message. May the Force be with you.

Mace Windu had not even the decency to tell him in private.

And Dooku had considered him almost a friend.

It is not often that Dooku feels the weight of almost seven decades of existence, but he does now. He allows his travel-stained cloak to drop behind him, crosses to the table on boots caked with the dirt of a thousand dying worlds that the Republic chooses to turn a blind eye to. They track grime across the spotless floor, turns the shining surface into corrupted grey.

He lowers himself into a chair, and folds his hands in front of him.

He should have sensed it.

Why had he not sensed it?

The Force has been…distant, of late. The light not quite as bright as it had been in his youth, as though the crystal of his heart has dulled with the sights he has presented it with.

World after distant world, Hutt, Trandoshan, pirate, mercenary; a million specks of filth festering in the glittering façade of a Republic grown greedy and complacent, with an Order of cowards at its bidding. Dooku had watched from a dimly-lit tavern in the furthest reaches of Wild Space as the young Queen of Naboo addressed the senate on a holo-screen above him; watched as the politicians fingered their corruption-lined pockets and decided that her world was not worth saving.

The Council, of course, had done nothing. They had sent his former padawan on a fool's errand; and ultimately, his utter ending.

The chair opposite stares at him mockingly, as though the straight-backed slab of priceless Felucian wood laughs for the lack of a brown-haired padawan in it.

But that had been so very long ago; nearly four decades, now. Dooku had been a Knight fairly freshly knighted, and Qui-Gon not so much younger than him as to voice any differing opinions a young Jedi might have.

And Qui-Gon had many differing opinions.

In the end, it had been…simpler, to step back. To allow Yoda to teach Qui-Gon that travesty of a lightsaber form, to know that no matter what Dooku taught, and said, Qui-Gon would always have a different perspective. And Qui-Gon, in turn, had learnt to pick and choose his battles. It had not been a particularly close partnership, by any means.

But Dooku had not thought their bond so weak that he could not sense the passing of his former padawan, even a hundred light-years away.

Padawans.

What of his grandpadawan?

What of Obi-Wan Kenobi?

Surely the boy is more a young man now; with scarcely a few months before knighthood, he would only need an experienced eye in the short term, to correct the many indulgences Qui-Gon no doubt lavished upon their partnership.

With this comes a ridiculous thought. Would Dooku presume too much, if he offered…?

His comm chirps; a different sound, now, to indicate a text-based message. He slides his fingers out of a clasp so tight that he is almost surprised by their numbness, and flicks open the display.

The short lines of aurebesh fill him first with shock.

Then anger.

And disgust.

It would seem Obi-Wan Kenobi is no longer a padawan.

Or a simple Knight, either.

If the Council thinks it wise to place a freshy-knighted, grieving young Jedi in charge of the training of a nine-year-old who had never heard of the Force until three weeks past, then who is Dooku, respected Jedi Sentinel and once a Council member himself, to oppose them?

It is enough.

The Jedi are the crystal of the Force, they say.

The anger flickers at the edges of his consciousness, slides questing fingers into the cracked crystal that is his heart. It pauses for a moment, slithers before him, as if waiting for his reply.

Dooku looks the shadow in the eye, appraisingly, and nods once.

The world sharpens like never before, and if the Force screams as he takes control of it, he relishes in the sound. Rage. Power. Determination. There is fury at his fingertips, lightning in his veins.

He palms the lightsaber at his belt, allows it to float before him, at eye level. The components make no sound as they separate themselves from ach other, skirting around the turbulent shadows that flicker from his fingers. In the centre of the disassembled weapon, his lightsaber crystal shines a bright gold, the same hue that he spotted far off in the dim caves of Ilum, as a padawan himself.

Dooku reaches forward and plucks the crystal from the hovering components with a long thumb and forefinger. It burns against his cold fingers, blazing with a light he no longer has.

Too long has he been a Shadow cast by the Light. It is time he willingly entered the darkness.

He drops the crystal in a flimsi envelope and uses the internal Temple comm to summon a messenger. When the junior padawan knocks at his door, Dooku hands him the envelope with a clipped, "For the attention of Master Yoda," and cares not that the padawan stares up at his yellow-tinged eyes with ill-disguised fear.

There is no need to send further words. The crystal is a message enough.

Dooku crosses back to the table, reassembles his lightsaber with a careless flick of his fingers, and retrieves a new outfit from his chamber; one he owns due to his birthright, but has never donned before now.

When he is robed in sable tunics bearing the coat of arms of the Count of Serenno, he crosses over to his study, slides open a drawer he has not touched for over thirty-five years, and withdraws a box painted in dust.

The lid clicks open at his touch.

The dark brown braid is still there, coiled around itself with the journey of a teacher and his student marked with every bead and twist. It was put in that box the day it was severed from a newly-knighted head, and there it has remained until this moment.

It is likely Qui-Gon thought he had done away with it.

Dooku closes the lid.

Strictly speaking, there is no purpose in bringing it with him. It could even be viewed as a weakness. More would be served by burning it and leaving the blackened beads on his meditation cushion for all who choose to see.

But he cannot bring himself to do so.

So he pockets it, and turns on a crisp, newly shined heel. The door hisses shut behind him with finality.

Dooku leaves the Temple not through its massive entryway, with its towering colonnades drenched in the gold of Coruscant Prime's sunset; he leaves instead through its Eastern hangar, with his silhouette thrown out before him by the artificial lights that illuminate the hangar floor. His personal fighter lifts into the cooling air, and it too chases its shadow until it is swallowed whole by the oncoming night.

When he reaches Serenno a day later, there will be a letter waiting for him at his estate, bearing a unique signature.

A stylized S in old Basic, signed in crimson ink.

Next chapter: I haven't decided yet; any requests?

I hope to get some TSS out next week! Thanks to everyone who has been leaving me such lovely reviews and favourites. Visit my tumblr at eirianerisdar tumblr com (replace spaces with dots) for more writing!