A New Jedi in an Old Republic

Serenno

Ventress found herself meditating more and more as she found herself without guidance. It was both easier and harder as time went on, and as she learned from the Count in the ways of the Dark Side. It was easier in that she could attain the necessary frame of mind to properly contemplate the vagraties of the Force, but it was equally harder in that her thoughts during these moments were.... troubled.

She did not like being troubled.

Dooku had tasked them with counter-intelligence operations due to the trap they had sprung on them, as well as finding and recruiting more Force Users to their cause to replace losses. Unlike the Jedi, with generations to refine the process, the Acolytes had far fewer options as they needed capable individuals in the now, and could not call up trainees already in place.

Finding Force Adepts of any worth was always a tricky proposition, and while she briefly toyed with the idea of returning to Dathomir and petitioning Mother Tanzin on behalf of the Confederacy, she dismissed it as folly and a sign of weakness both on her part and of the Acolytes.

Putting that aside, the other task was equally paradoxical. Find and deal with potential security leaks. But where to start? And how? There should already be people working on that, simply as a matter of course, but she had no idea who they were or how competent they were. No, she decided as she ran in mental circles, best to simply present herself as an agent of the Count and throw his authority at the problem until she got what she wanted.

To distract her from her planning, she moved to mulling over two things – the Code and the mysterious not-Jedi who slew two of the Acolytes with ease, and whose presence she was sure ended the battle that Sora Bulq found himself in. She had felt the pulse of dark energy and the sudden calm afterward and knew that he was dead.

He was a mystery. No matter how she rolled it over in her head, she knew that he should not be. No Jedi was that... dark, and yet how could someone who should be a Sith cooperate with the Jedi in the first place?

She had tried to bring this to Dooku's attention, and while he did listen to her concerns, he dismissed them as an 'aberration'. But she could tell that he was disturbed by her revelations, and that he was already somewhat aware of him. She supposed that Dooku may have been trying to tell her that she should not concern herself with this mysterious Jedi as others already were, but there were far better ways to go about it.

With a near physical wrench, she twisted her thoughts away from that subject and back to her task at hand. How would she go about finding new Force users?

Perhaps, she concluded after far too much time running in mental circles, she needed guidance.

Private Office of Count Dooku

Standing before the hologram of General Grievous, Dooku hid his disappointment well. "The Jedi are cowards," he announced to the waiting cyborg. "Alter your plans to account for them not being there. Continue to disguise your presence so that the Republic does not learn of you."

"When will they strike?" Grievous asked.

"They delay and delay," Dooku did not bother to hide his expression at that. "They will suffer for it both within the Republic, and when you finally take your frustrations out on them."

"You promised me Jedi," the distant General growled.

"And you will have them. Either they come to you, or you go to them, it matters not in the end." Dooku assured him. It was true. Either the Republic would retaliate with Jedi-led forces, or the Confederacy would attack them directly. "What of Mustafar?"

"The world is under our control," Grievous noted. "There was no real resistance. I wish to raid the Seswenna sector."

Dooku took a moment to remember which sector that was. The Tarkin holdings. It would have been a great coup to bring them to their side, but their loyalty to the Republic was beyond doubt. Time to shake it, and see what fell. "Do so, with my blessing. An attack on a stronghold will provoke a response."

"As you wish, Count." The hologram winked out, leaving Dooku alone in his study.

Looking at his schedule, he saw that his next meeting was with the Senate of the Confederacy. As much as this whole thing was a ploy to give the Sith more power, he did enjoy the fact that you could fit the leadership of this separate polity into a single room small enough that you could actually talk without the need for mechanical assistance.

There would be the usual complaints, he knew. But for the most part the senators whose worlds, sectors and other affiliations they represented were still on the emotional high of being free from the Republic and exalting in their ability to actually act. They pushed through economic reforms, military spending and all the other things that got bogged down in committee and discussion in the Republic.

And he had to be honest with himself. He enjoyed it too.

Republica 500

Coruscant

"Ani!" Padme greeted the young Jedi as he entered their apartment. And there it was again, the relaxed face that told her that he was certain of himself and his actions. It was something she saw more and more often as of late, and it brought a warm smile to her face – which in turn made him happy as well. "How was your day?"

"Very well," he said as he took off his cloak and threw it over a couch. Sitting down in it, he angled himself a little and Padme took the opportunity provided to lay down with her head in his lap. "Obi-wan it going to be elevated to the High Council in the next few weeks, and will be the official voice of the Jedi when dealing with the Senate, it seems."

Padme's political mind mulled that over as the rest of her simply enjoyed his presence. "That means you and I will have more chances to see each other."

Anakin looked around for the golden frame of C-3PO, as the protocol droid had some of the worst timing in the history of droids. "But it won't be private," he lamented. "And there was a Navy Captain who came to the Council with a plan, and the Council approved of it, in a limited scope."

"But I thought the Jedi were not doing that sort of thing?"

"He was asking for Jedi to take, well," he smirked at the thought, "to return to the position of a Padawan under the guidance of Military professionals, to learn the skills they needed under more controlled, but practical circumstances."

"Who was it?" She enjoyed the way his hand ran through her hair when he wasn't paying attention.

"Wilhuff Tarkin," Anakin replied. "He made a compelling case, and Master Katarn, the one whom you talked with a few weeks ago? He convinced the Council to accept the plan. The Council is looking for volunteers for Tarkin's Raider Squadron."

Padme was no fool. She sat up, making some distance between her and him to show her displeasure. "You didn't. Please tell me you didn't."

Unable to lie to her, Anakin shook his head. "I told him I am the best Jedi pilot. I volunteered to fly a starfighter."

"YOU WHAT?" Padme yelled out, pulling herself back in worry. "Anakin!"

"I'm the best!" He replied, eyes wide open as he tried to convince her of the importance of this. "He needs us to fight, and we need to fight!" He felt himself starting to get worked up over this, but didn't care. "How can we show the people of the Republic that the Jedi can be trusted if we cannot answer their call! The Council is learning, but it's not enough! Tarkin's plan is simple and if I can help, I must!"

"And what does Obi-Wan have to say about this?" Her question bordered on accusation, knowing full well how quickly Anakin would jump into action before consulting with his Master.

"He... doesn't know." Anakin admitted softly. "Not yet. I haven't told him."

"You have to! He can ask Captain Tarkin to release you!"

"Why? How?" The Jedi knew that nothing would change. "We wouldn't do it for you, revealing our union. He can't do it without making the Council look like hypocrites."

"And you put him into that position by offering without asking!"

"I had to! If I had waited to ask, who knows what he might have said or done to keep me 'safe'." Anakin put a lot of emphasis on that last word. "We're Jedi! Not all of us are out to sit in peace and quiet, meditating and talking!"

"It's still wrong! You're a Padawan! Not a Knight!"

"How else can I prove I can be a knight if I don't start making my own decisions?" Anakin leaned in and Padme refused to yield.

"By respecting him!"

"And he'll be too busy with the needs of the High Council to watch over me all the time," Anakin changed the nature of his objection. "This mission will only be six weeks at most."

"Things could change!"

Anakin held up a finger, looking around, worried. "Hold on. Where's 3PO? He would have come when we started arguing."

Grateful for the change in subject, Padme smoothed out her clothes. "He's been taken in by Senate Security for inspection. Apparently there was a leak in the Chancellor's office from one of the Droids, and a lot of them have been recalled for checking. And because I and Palpatine are from Naboo, I was at... near the top of the list."

"They suspect 3PO? But I built him!" Anakin found a far more personal thing to be concerned about. "Didn't you tell them?"

"I did, but they had to show no favorites," Padme pointed out. "I ordered him to comply, and I was told he should be back in a day or two."

"Well, they will find nothing wrong with him," Anakin was completely sure of himself. "That, I know."

"I know too, but still..."

Anakin fell back, flopping on the back of the couch. "I didn't come here to fight," he said. "Can we just skip that?"

"Sure," Padme knew when to yield. "So, you, me, and no droids to bother us?"

Anakin grinned.

Droid Facility

Jedi Temple

Kazdan Paratus stepped back and looked over his newest creation.

It was ugly.

Standing the same height as the B-2 Battle Droid fielded by the Confederacy, the droid in front of him was just as wide and even more formidable, he hoped. In its left hand was a built-in light saber to keep with the idea that it can attack at any range. Its right arm was mounted with two blasters, one a light repeater to mimic the massed fire a larger group could bring to bear on a target, as well as a more long-range weapon for those who thought that a sniper could do better at harming Jedi. The forward frame was reinforced, able – in theory – to take a couple slashes from a lightsaber before being penetrated, and as a hidden surprise, there was a small repulsor hidden in the lower torso to throw away anyone who got close.

The design was prohibitive to mass produce, and as a kludge of existing parts, he could not see the value in doing so in the first place.

But as a means to prove the dangers of the drone armies after such a dismissive show by Katarn, it was a start.

Now he just had to get this prototype to Battlemaster Drallig, and see what he had to say of it.

Invisible Hand

Deep Space

Grievous paced about his bridge as his fleet consolidated and the calculations required for the series of Hyperspace jumps were made. This war was not to his liking. Dooku had made assurances that things would proceed in a certain manner, but like a fool, he had fallen into the sway of the former Jedi's vile tongue.

War, Grievous reminded himself, was rarely as smooth as people would like. As he would like. There was confusion, disarray and simple errors that could happen which would result in many things happening or not that were out of his control.

So why was he so angry that the Jedi were not appearing before him, offerings to be slain in glorious combat?

It was... personal. He wanted to fight the Jedi, and agreed to Dooku's... offers on that condition. There was only so much practice he could get in, and the Sith under Dooku were too busy with their own tasks to offer him a chance to spar.

But still, he wanted those fights. To prove himself. And every day he was denied was another day he felt angry. And anger, while good at motivating battle, was not so good when actually fighting in it.

Dooku was a fool, he affirmed his private conclusions. The doddering old human was simply incapable of seeing war as anything more than an elaborate game, a ruse to get what he wants. He did not see that the enemy would not play into their plans, as they would refuse to participate in the plans of the Republic.

"Sir," Grievous' thoughts were put aside as a B-1 approached him and saluted. "We have a report from the recon ships for you." The droid held a data slate in its fingers, and offered it to the General.

Grievous snatched it from the machine and turned away, eyes flicking over the reports. It was a simple thing, the Neimoidian in charge of that particular squadron was actually brave enough to stick around to confirm that a pair of DP20 Corvettes and a Centax Frigate had been seen, then left on a vector that, if real space aligned, would take them back into the Seswenna sector. The possibility of a feint was still there, but something was better than nothing.

It would seem that his fleet was being noticed, and tracked. That was good. "Send a message to that squadron. They are not to engage recon elements like that, but instead take random jumps to confuse the Republic Navy's spies." He handed the slate back to the droid, who saluted again.

"Roger Roger!" it said, and spun on its heels to face the communications center. To its credit, the gyro did not fail, and it was able to walk the rest of the way to relay the orders before its idiot brain faulted.

Satisfied that there would be a fight ahead, Grievous relaxed. This, he could handle much better than ignorant Counts, and failing Jedi.

Jedi Temple

Kyle did not want to do this. He really didn't want to. Standing at the bottom of the Claw's boarding ramp, he knew that one way or the other, Jan would find out. And it would be worse for him if she did so and discovered that he didn't tell her.

With no further recourse, he climbed into the ship. "Hey Jan!"

"Kyle! How was the meeting?" Jan was busy with the B-1 Droid head, examining it with a frown.

"Oh, ups and downs. Obi-Wan is going to be on the High Council soon-ish, I've been asked to 'advise' them on war related decisions due to having basic competence, Tarkin asked for help and got it, and I really need to check in with Nejaa – I don't trust that Corellian Jedi as much as I should, and where did you put my clothes? These robes are uncomfortable."

Jan grunted in reply before back tracking over what Kyle had said. He never dumped things like that on her, unless he was trying to hide something. Obi-wan, Kyle being Kyle, Tark... "TARKIN?" She jumped up, slamming the table in the process, causing Kyle to wince.

"Could you keep it down?" he rubbed his ears against the sharp sound. "I don't think they heard you on Nal Hutta."

"Sorry!" Jan said, turning to check Kyle. "But, you said Tarkin? As in," she leaned over to check the ramp and saw no one, "Tarkin Doctrine Tarkin. Death Star Tarkin?"

"Yeah," Kyle confirmed. "He's just a Captain, you know. Had some ideas for a raid against the Confederacy, and wanted to get some Jedi to take learning positions in his task group."

"What did the Council say?"

"I told them that he won't tolerate stupidity, and that his plans work. Obi-wan called me out on hating the man, but I explained that he has a reputation where you or I are concerned."

"I'm surprised you didn't shoot him," Jan didn't move from watching Kyle.

"I honestly wanted to, but I couldn't. And no, it's not because of the rest of the Council being there."

"It's because he's not the man who died years ago," Jan pointed out.

"No, he's not. He's younger. Less involved with the Empire."

Jan nodded. "I can see myself killing him, but what good would that do? I mean, I hate him for what he did to my homeworld, but that man is dead." She sighed, her shoulders falling. "But with everything... I don't think, as long as I didn't meet him face to face, I can live with him being around."

"Well, if we can not kill Darth Vader," Kyle smiled a little, "I think we can get away with leaving him alone."

"But the Emperor is still on the table, right?"

Kyle's smile expanded into a full grin. "Oh yes. Yes he is."