“Master Dooku, please explain how you first came to know young Anakin Skywalker.”

  “I don’t believe I will.”

  Grandmaster Windu leaned forward with a severe frown on his face.

  “Master Do—”

  “Count Dooku, if you will. I made it abundantly clear that I was leaving the Order last time that I was in this chamber. Despite this very council not deigning to recognize this fact and even cover up my reasons for my departure.”

  Grandmaster Windu’s expression tightened, “Now Master Dooku. You are still—”

  “I have no obligation to answer you,” Dooku said, “I will present myself to the Senate for questioning if need be. But you are mistaken if you believe that any of you hold authority over me anymore.”

  “All Jedi, work together we must,” Grandmaster Yoda said, “For the good of the Republic, and the Force both, it is.”

  “If that is all, then I believe I should be brought back to my cell. Do let me know when any actual inquiry has been approved.”

  Mace Windu leaned forward and eyed Dooku carefully.

  “Are you aware that the ship ferrying young Skywalker here has been destroyed? Nothing left but debris behind as well as some survivors.”

  Dooku’s eyes widened before he controlled his expression.

  “And the boy? Was he one of them? Among the survivors?”

  Grandmaster Windu leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers, “It is unknown. But this is beyond your chafing at this Council’s authority now. If you wait for a Senate inquiry then it might be too late before the boy goes rogue and starts causing even more chaos. Any information that you can give us could help us to his peaceful capture. Testimony from the survivors lays the destruction of the ship as his doing after defeating at least one if not both of the Jedi master’s on board single handedly.”

  Dooku kept his face unmoving, “Capture, is it? Even after he supposedly destroyed a Republic military vessel on his own? With two master Jedi escorting him and him being imprisoned as well? While completely unarmed and bound by shock cuffs? I find it highly unlikely that that’s the case.”

  “I suppose we’ll have to see if your skepticism is valid during our investigation into the matter,” Grandmaster Windu said, “So? Do you have any information of use to this council? When it comes to the Senate hearing, our support could be the difference between a conviction and a dismissal of any charges.”

  Dooku nearly sneered at the very thought, but managed to control himself in time. He had plenty of his own allies to deal with such things, far more than these isolated fools could even guess at.

  “No, I don’t believe that I do. Goodday, esteemed Jedi Council.”

  He inclined his head before walking to the door where the two guards led him away back to his temporary cell.

  He technically wasn’t under arrest, but if Anakin had truly escaped or died somehow then that could rapidly change. As Dooku sat in his room, a rather lavish one meant to pamper the more affluent prisoners, he rubbed his white beard as he thought about what to do.

  It truly would be such a shame if the boy was truly dead… So much potential, and not just in the Force. Free thinking and almost as spirited as Qui-gon had been as a boy… Ah, Qui-gon had been such a troublemaker. Dooku let out a sad smile and melancholy before a wave of malevolent dark side pulsed within him. He quickly clamped down on it and shrouded it in his shrouding Force technique again before the energy could leak from his body.

  He’d have to consider how to frame things with Lord Sidious. His careful obfuscations between lies and truth were a careful web. If Lord Sidious pulled one long thread, then who knew how he might react when the whole web became visible.

  The Grand Plan had been the only method of toppling the Jedi from their lofty pedestal and getting his revenge for Qui-gon’s death before. Working together with Lord Sidious to undermine the Republic enough that the Jedi could be struck down completely in one clean strike.

  But over this last year, he’d started to see a second path. He’d thought the Jedi immutable, their stoic ranks standing shoulder to shoulder and never breaking from the grip of the Council and blithely ignoring the corruption infesting their order. But here was a boy that had broke away from the Order all on his own, the Chosen One, that saw the corruption first hand as well.

  If a boy of such potential could be nurtured to the right heights, along with his other talents, then perhaps the games in the dark wouldn’t be needed and direct confrontation could be pursued…

  Especially if he could draw more of the dissatisfied Jedi to his side now that he knew that defection without outside coercion was possible, if unlikely.

  Dooku sighed. He truly hoped that the boy was alive. With the vision of a more glorious path in view, he’d be rather disappointed in reverting back to the Grand Plan that seemed so faded and drawn out in comparison. But he’d still do it, to destroy the Council and the very idea of Jedi as the sanctimonious arbiters of justice that could do no wrong.

  — — —

  Dooku’s allies had pulled through on the Senate hearing. The questions were light and vague, giving him plenty of room to construct the narrative that he wished to present while technically never lying a single time. He could see the frustrated and fuming face of Grandmaster Windu in the top observation booth as Dooku spoke of nursing the boy back to health in a bacta tank after his ‘encounter’ with the Jedi at Tatooine after attempting to buy his mother free from her slavery.

  He was carefully vague about exactly what happened on Tatooine, but made sure to insinuate at every opportunity that the Jedi had blatantly attacked the boy and his mother, leaving her scarred and injured and the boy in critical condition. That the Council had ordered his death because he dared to flee from the Jedi while realizing that they would never let him go if he asked.

  Dooku’s allies of course piled on as planned, and added their own praises for Anakin and pointedly questioning the integrity of the two Jedi who had gone to Tatooine and confronted Anakin there.

  Things were going well, and the interrogation of Dooku slowly devolved into suspicion and promises of investigation of the Jedi’s actions and conduct.

  It was the fifth day of questioning, and Dooku sat stoically there in the center of the Senate chamber.

  Despite it technically being his questioning, things had devolved into endless debate and arguments as they often did in this corrupt place. But Dooku could be called to answer something or give testimony at any point until they were satisfied with his answers.

  “Mon Mothma from Chandrilan has the floor next,” Mas Ameda, Lord Sidious and Chancellor Palpatine’s right hand man said as he gestured to the senator from the planet Chandrilan.

  Dooku frowned as the man stared at Dooku as the woman stood to her feet and her microphone was activated from her platform that floated into the center of the large senate chamber as she went to speak.

  Why would Lord Sidious do this? A warning perhaps to Dooku perhaps to not allow his ego to go to his head? Dooku did not dare look up to the Chancellor’s balcony to meet Lord Sidious’ eyes. Yes, a warning that was all. Mon Mothma would ask some hard hitting questions, she’d always been more supportive of the Jedi than the rest.

  “I call Count Dooku for testimony,” Mon Mothma said. Dooku stood as his platform floated forward opposite to the senator.

  “Count Dooku. There is one point in all of this discussion that has bothered me in this whole matter so far that I do not believe has been adequately answered so far. What exactly did this Padawan Skywalker do? Is it true that he drew on the dark side of the Force and slaughtered over a hundred men in cold blood? Could he not have done the same in the ship that has been completely destroyed in his transport here to Coruscant?”

  Ah. The question itself. Dooku could dodge, but it would be useless. Despite his allies avoiding it so far, the whole chamber watched Dooku with interest to see what he would say.

  “Thank you senator for the question.” he said after collecting himself for a moment, “I will say… that the rumors are true. He did indeed kill the mercenaries that viciously attacked him and his mother as they attempted to flee. He did draw on the dark side in a moment of need, but he’s been able to control it almost completely in the time that I’ve known him. Just because one draws on the dark doesn’t mean they are driven mad by it. There are many records of force users using the dark side and then returning to the light after their crisis is over. I believe that this is one such case.”

  “And the mercenaries? Did he kill them single handedly?”

  “Yes. He was powerful, and the dark side is as powerful as one’s desperation. Such was the connection to the mother who he’d seen disfigured right in front of his eyes. I don’t know what happened on his transport ship. But I assure you he would not attack anyone unless he was forced into it.”

  Dooku saw many politicians sit back and begin nodding to themselves. They could see the story that Dooku laid before them. A boy driven to desperate measures as he was relentlessly hounded by the Jedi and their pawns in the Republic. Many Senators were inclined to be irritated at the Jedi’s influence over the politics of the Republic in general, so it was easy for them to accept Dooku’s narrative. A narrative that was just close enough to the truth that even Dooku wasn’t completely able to claim even in his own mind that it was false.

  Grandmaster Windu looked angered by the principle of Dooku’s argument and barely seemed to be able to resist his hand that was drifting towards the lightsaber hung at his hip.

  “You seem rather fond of the boy, Count Dooku,” Mon Mothma said after a moment, “Why is that? I seems like you are going to rather a large amount of trouble to defend his character and actions when they aren’t your own.”

  “Should I be slandering him instead? I think that he is a boy worth defending. It saddens me that this chamber spends so much time debating his guilt instead of asking what could have driven to act as he was forced to.”

  Mon Mothma asked a few more questions in an effort to make Dooku contradict himself or undermine his credibility. But the large questions on everyone’s mind had been addressed and Dooku was able to brush off everything that she threw at him without much effort.

  Frustrated, she sat down and nodded to Mas Amedda.

  “Next to speak is the Senator from Mon Calamari. Thank you Count Dooku for your time once again.”

  Dooku’s and Mon Mothma’s platform floated back to the edges of the chamber as the winding debate continued, now refocused on the investigation into the Jedi as planned.

  One very long week later, the debate over the issue was resolved. A committee was going to be formed to plan the formation of the committee that would investigate the Jedi actions regarding Anakin Skywalker. Jedi influence was still large in the Republic, and so Dooku doubted the investigation would ever go anywhere as it was drowned in red tape and swallowed by committee after committee skirting the issue instead of addressing things head on.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Dooku was cleared of all wrongdoing and let free. In addition, Anakin Skywalker had been ordered to appear before the Senate for testimony if or when he reappeared, not remanded immediately into the care of the Jedi. It was probably the best result the boy could hope for, considering the Council’s likely stance on him after this…

  There he went again, thinking of the boy as still alive. Perhaps an idle hope, but still something to consider.

  Dooku’s private ship had been transported here to Coruscant, and after he was released by the Senate he immediately left the planet and started traveling to the outer rim. He’d have to discuss the ramifications of this latest event with the rest of allies in the secretive CIS forming under the eyes and boots of the Republic.

  — — —

  Anakin reached up to scratch his shoulder, only to have Relira slap his hand out of the way.

  “No scratching the skin grafts, Anakin,” she scolded as he rubbed his stinging hand, “You’ll make them peel again.”

  “Ow. That hurt, Relira. Did you have to slap me so hard?”

  “Maybe you won’t do it next time then. The more you peel the more likely it is that your scars will be permanent. No one wants that.”

  “Fine,” Anakin grumbled, “Can we just work on the spiderdroids already?”

  “Sure. Here, wait it’s a bit tight, let me clear it out for your chair first…”

  She went ahead and cleared a path inside of her lab, ordering the droids loitering around to move some boxes and make the cluttered path a bit wider. Anakin reached to the control on the side of his hovering chair and pressed forward and floated through the door into the lab. He coughed slightly and resisted the urge to scratch himself again. He took his inhaler and took a long puff of bacta that went down his throat and gathered in his lungs and soothed the pain.

  Anakin stopped his chair in front of her desk and tapping the control panel on the other arm of the chair lifted the chair in the air a bit so he could see what was going on the desk. Relira showed him the components that she was working on.

  “It’s this joint for their gripping feet,” Relira said in frustration, “We need just a little more flexibility than these have. But no matter what I do I can’t make this part any better. Any ideas?”

  Anakin raised the back of his chair so he was sitting straighter and could inspect the part closer. He instinctively reached out for it as Relira picked it up and put it in front of his face with her hand. She snatched it away and glared at him and he guiltily lowered his arm again.

  “You know what the med droids and CIS doctors said,” she lectured again, “No sudden movements for at least two months to let the skin grafts fully set. It's been this long already, only two or three more weeks before you’ll be able to move a little more and not be so careful. Those grafts on the chest are sensitive, we don’t want them to fall off again. You know how worried we all were when you started suddenly bleeding everywhere last time.”

  Anakin groaned in frustration, but sat back again. He did feel bad about that. But he’d felt fine and thought that he’d been ready to walk around a bit for himself. He clearly had not been ready, since his skin grafts had fallen off almost immediately and caused lots of unnecessary stress for everybody.

  “Fine, show me,” he muttered as Relira raised the part close to his face and spun it around so he could inspect it closer again.

  He blinked hard and coughed again. The bandages swaddling his head were uncomfortable and scratchy just like the rest of his body. His nose and large portions of his head had been burned, and the skin grafts there had to be held in place by the bandages swaddling his head. Luckily both his eyes and mouth was left free though, but otherwise he was completely wrapped up across his whole body. A medical droid spent over thirty minutes replacing them with fresh ones every day before he went to bed. He wished that his adaptation to damage ability worked on the itch… But apparently it wasn’t dangerous enough to him to count.

  What a pain. He hated being such an invalid, not able to do anything but float around and talk to people.

  But at least he could talk to interesting people. He thought he’d go crazy otherwise.

  He inspected the component for a few minutes and thought about the problem, “Does it have to be that thing that’s improved? It’s pretty small, wouldn’t it be better to get a bigger bulkier part to improve and solve the problem that way?”

  “No, we tried that and…”

  The two of them talked about the project and Anakin enjoyed the conversation even if he grimaced and was annoyed whenever they had to stop their flow for Relira to carefully show him something by holding it in front of his face and slowly spinning it around.

  Anakin coughed hard, building into a wracking coughing fit as he fumbled for his inhaler and took a puff of bacta again for his damaged lungs. No skin grafts for those. But enough bacta over the next year or two as well as some other medicine he was taking should help them heal back to full function.

  Relira was giving him a sad look when he recovered and put his inhaler back again.

  “Sorry. What were you saying?” Anakin said with only a faint rasp in his voice.

  “Right… Right,” she said, “I forget. Doesn’t matter anyway. You’ve given me plenty to think about. You’re still coming tonight to the party right?”

  “Yeah, I guess. Why is everyone being so strange about it? You’ve all been secretive about what exactly this party is for. Did someone complete one of their project goals again?”

  “Well, you’ll find out tomorrow,” Relira said, “I’m sure you’ll like it. And no, it doesn’t have to do with work.”

  “Sure. See you then.”

  — — —

  Relira walked besides Anakin through the empty hallways of the facility, only droids standing around motionless waiting for someone to ask one of them for help with something. Anakin floated in his chair, confused at how empty this place was.

  “Are we late? Is everyone already there?” he asked in confusion.

  “Yes, they’re just ahead. It’s in the recreation room,” Relira assured him.

  She went ahead and stood at the pair of double doors and knocked on them loudly and waited for a few seconds. Anakin heard some rustling and lowered voices on the other side of the door and frowned as Relira waited for a few seconds. She put her hands on the doors and then threw them open wide and revealed the room beyond.

  “Happy birthday, Anakin!” the whole collective staff of the facility chorused all at once as the crowd gathered by the door. The wave of sound washed over him in a thrumming wave and left him blinking and stunned as everyone stared at him.

  “Huh? A party for my birthday?” he said, “Is this a local custom or something?”

  “Well, it’s something from my homeworld,” Relira said, “It’s the big one too, sixteen. On my homeworld that’s when you become an adult in the big ceremony. We’ve got the water horn, all the traditional treats. I thought might be fun ever since you mentioned that your birthdate was coming up.”

  “Oh. Well…. Thank you,” Anakin said, surprisingly touched that she’d gone so far to organize all of this just for him.

  He pushed at the controls of the hoverchair and moved into the room. He talked with everybody and even got to talk with some of the engineers that he didn’t know as well in the whirlwind of the party.

  The night passed in a blur and Anakin found himself smiling as people came up to him and congratulated him for ‘becoming a man’. He knew it was all pretend, to have fun immersing themselves in Relira’s culture, but it still felt good to have the people that he’d grown to respect so much say that to him, even if partially as a joke.

  Eventually Relira stood on the table and lifted a large curved horn nearly a half meter long that was hollowed out and filled with water.

  “The water horn! The giver of life!” she shouted, “Sustaining our people, a sign of the warriors and battle, and peace and farming both! The two qualities that make a good man, a good woman, to our people. May our boy Anakin Skywalker become a man and someday represent the qualities of this waterhorn! As strong and sharp as the horn of the beast, and as nourishing as the water that is held within it, ready to be shared at the smallest nudge by another!”

  She ceremonially tilted the horn to the side slightly and spilled a little of the water onto a bowl that was beneath her.

  She clambered down from the table and walked forward and held it out to Anakin.

  “Just drink a little,” she whispered as she held it up carefully to his lips. He leaned forward and she tilted the horn slightly so Anakin got a mouthful of the water inside and swallowed it. She took a step back.

  “Anakin Skywalker is now a man! A real Crear’erati. Nourished by the horn, so he may nourish his people in turn with his accomplishments! Not that he doesn’t already have plenty to his name already! Why, ever since he’s arrived here he’s dived right into our work with passion and intelligence that none I’ve ever seen before. I’ve seen him at work. All of you have. But he’s more than just a coworker. He’s our friend. So let’s see what embarrassing stories we can tell about him if we put our minds together! As friends do! Show our former boy, now a man, here that we know him well enough to see his embarrassing moments right next to his great accomplishments.”

  The whole crowd cheered as one and Anakin was stunned at Relira’s speech. She turned to him and smiled as she saw him blushing slightly at all the tension and good natured laughter from the crowd around him.

  “Remember the first time that we showed him this recreation room?” Relira said, “He thought that he could beat the high scores on the festival games and game cabinets even without cheating by using his Force powers. He was frustrated for weeks, spending his free time in here doing his best to beat them. He gave up eventually because they were too hard and he could never beat them. What he never knew was that… Xilrev rigged it so it was impossible for anyone but him.”

  She pointed to a man in the crowd who looked stunned at the accusation.

  “Hey, I thought we were supposed to be doing the kid, not me!” he protested.

  “You’re part of the story, Xilrev,” Relira said mercilessly, “Remember how much he talked up beating the high score eventually before giving up? Xilrev was cheating the whole time and we all knew it. You’d had all of us beaten long ago and we just kept teasing you anyway and you just never figured it out.”

  “What? No…”

  Anakin looked around at the crowd.

  “No way…”

  “Alright, kriff,” Xilrev said, “Yeah, I’ve been changing the scores on you kid. Thought it was funny putting in you in second or third place for all of the machines by giving myself and the others a few extra points on the sly to beat you. You never suspected a thing. Pffft. It was hilarious.”

  Anakin groaned and felt embarrassed as everyone laughed at him. But it wasn’t mean spirited, and he smiled a little as another man he was close with stepped forward.

  “I remember one time I handed Anakin a high stack of sensitive components. He was so sure that he could carry them on his own. ‘Oh, It’ll be fine’ he said as the boxes stacked up above his head. Wanted to do it to help out rather than just having one of the droids do it for him.”

  The man held out his arms and mimicked the wavering tower of boxes.

  “Sure enough, after a few steps, he trips and everything goes spilling everywhere all over the floor. He just had a droid do it the next time! You’d think he was handling the bombs when I ask him to carry even a basic sensor now, he’s so careful. I’m sure that even you lot handling the bombs don’t even handle them as carefully as Anakin here does. Even the most harmless boxes, he’s so scared of dropping it again!”

  Anakin blushed as everyone laughed again. The more ritualistic atmosphere faded away and Relira replaced the water horn on its special stand holding it vertical above the table. She started breaking out the alcohol and other drugs that were passed around. Unfortunately Anakin didn’t get to try any due to all the medication that he was taking, but he was still the center of the increasingly drunk and incoherent party going on. There was a table set out with food, and Relira insisted on feeding him little bites with a spoon of the dishes she and a few other people from her planet had made. It was a little embarrassing, but no one commented on it so Anakin ignored it and just went with the flow. Normally he ate in his room as a droid fed him, but it felt different when it was a human doing it to him versus just a droid…

  The party felt… Nice. No one had ever thrown a party for him like this before. Even his mother had only done little things with just the two of them, not with friends like this. Well, she hadn’t really been able to host anyone what with them being slaves back then…

  Someone else asked Anakin something and the brief dip in his mood perked back up and he answered the woman’s question.

  He talked for what felt like forever, and as it grew late the party started to slowly clear out as people went back to sleep or split off to go elsewhere for smaller ‘afterparties’.

  Relira was standing over by the water horn protectively. She’d had multiple drinks and looked unsteady on her feet. Anakin had seen her take what looked like some kind of drug that made her relaxed so she looked like she’d collapse into a puddle as she leaned against the table.

  “No one… touch the horn,” she said blearily as a few people came by, “It’s… No spilling its water. Bad luck for whoever does it. Bad. Except for the ceremony. Then it’s good luck and stuffffffff.”

  The room was looking mostly empty, only a few people left scattered around the room looking tired and about to head out.

  Anakin floated his chair over to Relira who turned and blinked at him dumbly through her drunkenness.

  “Thanks for the party, Relira,” Anakin said sincerely, “It was amazing.”

  “Iiiiisssss… No trouble,” Relira muttered, “Yooou, deserve it Anakin. You work so hard, you do your best, and you have this happen to you. Why did the Republic do this to you? You should be out there being a boy, not cooped up in heeeere with usss, scared of them. Hiding all the time so they won’t catch you again. Our droids… They’ll make them see us. See… all of us. The CIS will be different from the Republic, I just know it… Count Dooku will lead them right once we’re free from thhhhee corrupt Republic. Everything will be better for us out here on the Outer rim once the CIS finally forms for real…”

  “Relira, you’re drunk.”

  “Oh! Iiiii guess I am,” Relira said as she teetered to her feet and started drinking some water, “Thanks. I’m gonnnna go to bed now. Congratulations on… being a man now and all. G’night. See you tomorrow.”

  Relira stumbled off and out of the door, blinking heavily and wavering from side to side as she left the room leaving only Anakin and a few others. Anakin reached to his side and took another quick puff of bacta through his inhaler before putting it down again.

  He didn’t know. Maybe the CIS could really change things, make them better for everybody. Better than they were under the Republic. Or maybe not. Maybe they’d be just the same except with another group of planets under their control. He really didn’t know.

  But Relira and the others here really believed in the CIS and their mission. And despite his caution, Anakin found himself wanting to hope in it too. A CIS that could lead them all into a brighter future someday…