30 BBY
With everything in place, the Outer Rim Alliance was all but ready to launch its invasion of Phindar. The extra time they had taken to get an agreement from Botajef had allowed them to fully restock and repair all five of Serenno's cruisers. The Hammerheads and the Coronas were now crewed and ready to fly, though the crews hadn't got nearly enough time to practice with the latter to operate them at their best.
Surveying his small fleet from his office window, Dooku couldn't keep the scowl from his lips. The ships themselves weren't anything special, merely standard for their size and class. They could be expected to meet the average, not exceed it, and worse still was their numbers. Five ships. Five! If the Sith had committed the entire Black Sun fleet against Serenno, they would have been helpless to stop it. He didn't know what kind of game Sidious was playing, but Serenno had to grow. The alliance had to grow.
He had to grow as well.
As it was now, he couldn't defeat the fools on Coruscant, let alone the Sith.
Botajef could be a serious addition to the Alliance. Its shipyards hadn't been fully activated in centuries, but they were there and far easier to restore to working order than the ancient ones on Raxus Prime. Unfortunately, they hadn't fully joined yet. So far, Duke Donner had only agreed to the invasion of Phindar if he was allowed to occupy it afterwards. It was an arrangement that cost him very little, and promised him much if Dooku succeeded. A shrewd negotiator that Donner, who had immediately understood the power he held over the alliance when first approached.
Still, a foot in the door was something by itself. If Duke Donner wasn't willing to commit himself fully to the ORA's cause, then perhaps one of his family members would be more amenable.
Plans to consider later.
Right now, Dooku was confident that he should be able to win the coming battle. Normally, coordinating two fleets across a large distance would be difficult, but he would be commanding one half and Asajj the other. Through the Force, he and his former Padawan would easily be able to converge on the enemy at the same time. Duke Harrad had been able to provide twenty ships, and though Duchess Satine didn't have a standing defence fleet, she did provide him with contact information for a number of Mandalorian clans who were willing to work as mercenaries.
With the Mandalorian mercenaries on their side, that brought the fleet's total size to thirty five ships. Meanwhile, the enemy fleet was an estimated thirty ships, at least according to Tanya's scouts. The members of the House Guard had been able to get surprisingly close to the target, landing on Phindar and talking to pirates who'd gone ashore for a few drinks. They'd even done a flyby of Deep Space Demolitions and Removals, to confirm the number of ships docked with it.
The space station itself was the most significant problem. Though not particularly mobile, it had deployed a flight of long range bombers to attack Raxus. Dooku was planning on relying on the New Temple's Long Range Patrol fighters to neutralise the bombers. Demolitions and Removals didn't have any serious armaments beyond some basic point defence systems, so once the bombers were dealt with, it would be a non-factor.
That left just one threat to be considered before they went ahead with the attack.
"Where did Asajj get this from?" Dooku asked, looking up from his datapad to his daughter.
She stood in front of his desk, arms folded behind her back, and mind shielded. "It was provided to her by Quinlan Vos."
Dooku's nose wrinkled with distaste, before he looked back down at the face of the zabrak sith assassin. Neither Asajj or Tanya knew his name yet, or Vos for that matter, but Dooku had already suffered the displeasure of meeting Maul in person once. "Why is she speaking with Vos?"
"She was gathering intelligence about the enemy." Tanya answered. "Which I see as commendable. Jedi Knight Prialla told her about some minor Black Sun interference in the investigation into Master Sifo's death, and so she took the initiative to go to Vos for more information. Very prudent given that they are our current foe."
"And so the Coruscant Temple has advanced much further into the investigation than the New Temple, but never saw fit to tell us."
"It appears that way, Father."
With a disgusted sight, Dooku put the datapad away. If Vos was right, Deep Space Demolitions and Removals was the former headquarters of the Black Sun. It seemed that Maul had completely taken over the organisation, explaining why it was working with the Trade Federation. Both organisations were merely catspaws of the Sith.
"Well, it's good to have confirmation that all our enemies are working together." Dooku muttered.
"Being X has been very busy." Tanya frowned, before asking, "do you think you'll be able to handle the Sith?"
"If he wasn't a match for Padawan Kenobi, I doubt he'll be much of a threat to me," Dooku scoffed. "Especially not with a dozen more Jedi at my back."
Tanya nodded. "Do you plan to capture him?"
Dooku shook his head. "No. A sith is far too dangerous to hold." Not to mention what he might reveal if given the chance. Dooku didn't even plan to bring support with him to kill Maul, lest the assassin reveal something he shouldn't during the fight.
Tanya nodded, not looking displeased.
"Thank you for this, daughter." Dooku said, smiling fondly. "I will let Asajj know she's done well. Is there anything else?"
"Yes, Father. Two more things. If you're taking our fleet with you, what will we do if another pirate fleet attacks in your absence?"
"Botajef has agreed to provide us with a small defence picket to prevent that."
"How small?"
"Two ships." Dooku answered, not bothering to hide his displeasure.
"Battle Cruisers?"
"Light cruisers."
"...It seems like they're getting a lot from this deal and risking almost nothing."
Dooku nodded in agreement. "We'll simply have to do our best to not advertise its size. It will have to be enough for any potential attackers to know that Serenno will still be defended."
Tanya nodded, though she looked unhappy with it.
"And your other concern?" Dooku asked.
"Not a concern, Father; A gift."
Dooku blinked at that, surprised. After a moment he couldn't help the small smile that touched his lips.
She smiled back at him as well. "It's in the armoury, if you want to see it."
"We shall go together." Dooku decided, standing up. The two of them passed through the Palace, taking the stairs to the armoury, with Tan'ya leading the way. Amused, Dooku followed behind her to where the smell of grinding steel and ozone merged with that of blaster polish and sweat into a heady mixture.
Dooku rarely came down here, trusting his daughter to manage the House Guard. Every guardsman they passed stopped to salute them, even the ones who were off-duty in the break room, standing over their cups of cafstim.
Dooku heard murmurs starting behind them as he and his daughter passed the soldiers. He didn't speak any of the Serennoan languages, or even Outer Rim Basic for that matter, but he recognised one word among the others. It seemed that his real name was difficult for them to pronounce, or perhaps strange in their tongue, and instead referred to him as Rider in their own language. They believed he'd ridden the Tirra'Taka into battle, even though no such thing had ever happened.
A new word was mixed in, one he didn't recognise. It took him a moment to realise it was probably their name for his daughter, though he couldn't discern any great meaning from it. Tan'ya had been teaching them to shield their minds in the Force, but from the few who let strong emotion slip through, he felt an overriding sense of awe and reverence. It wasn't aimed at him, though. Most of it was directed to his daughter.
He supposed that she had spent more time with them then he had, so it made sense they would be loyal to her personally. Though the strength of their emotions seemed strange even for a beloved commanding officer.
Once inside the armoury, his daughter presented to him an armoured Mandalorian with a hammer at his belt. He turned to regard the Count from behind his mirrored visor, mind caught between curiosity and annoyance at the interruption.
"Father, meet the Armourer."
"Just 'Armourer'?" Dooku raised an eyebrow, giving the Mandalorian a questioning look.
"He's a member of a particular sect that forbids him from sharing his name or revealing his face to outsiders," Tan'ya explained. "Regardless of his lack of trackable credentials, he has come recommended, and has proven his skill by crafting a dozen sets of sacanium armour for us on short notice."
"Short notice indeed." The man muttered. "I have worked from dawn till dusk every day, eating nothing but smoked meat for breakfast and dinner, and drinking nothing but water by the forge. Even with the blundering assistants you provided, there was scarcely time for me to complete my work."
Tan'ya gave her father an apologetic look. "Armourer has very high standards when it comes to who, or what, he's working with. He's been complaining about the quality of our materials with every breath."
"I will be grateful to return to beskar." The mandalorian spat, turning his head towards Tan'ya in a motion that looked almost like a glare.
"I see." Dooku said. "Will the armour work?"
"Of course!" The Armourer huffed, shooting Dooku a glare to match the one leveled at his daughter. "I wouldn't craft anything that could not offer protection, even if it's not sacred beskar and your blood is not sacred either."
What an unpleasant fellow, Dooku thought to himself. The Mandalorian seems to forget that regardless of how rare or in demand his skills were, there was only so much impertinence anyone would be willing to forgive. It was in his best interest to not continue trying Dooku's patience, lest he remind him of that.
"We've done ballistic tests." Tan'ya said, turning to him. "It will stop a blaster bolt, even from a rifle. But multiple direct hits will warp and destroy the metal."
"It's too conductive." The Armourer sniffed. "Each shot is partly deflected, but much of the heat is absorbed. Without a layer of plastoid beneath it, the bearer would be roasted alive."
"As a result, the armour is a blend of saccanium plates and plastoids." Tan'ya explained. "Future versions will have more sophisticated cooling systems, but as long as the user isn't shot so repeatedly that the armour turns to slag and melts off of him, it will offer a much greater level of protection then anything available on the market."
"Your tailor was able to provide correct measurements." The Armourer said. "It will fit you well."
So this was his daughter's gift to him. The sacanium was black, and running his hand over it, he found its texture rough, like rust or sandpaper. His particular set had a Chain of Office emblem printed into its neck, made of Serenno Silver, and had a similar mark around the head. The cape at its back was a dark shade of blue, while the plastoid plating the metal was embedded into was grey.
"This armour isn't quite as fitting for your station as it could be, Father, but for something made on such a short notice, it will provide excellent protection."
Dooku was no historian, but he did remember from his time in the academy reading about Jedi Lord Valenthyne Farfalla, whose lightsabers were still on display in the Tower of Knowledge. To the Jedi of today, the last great Jedi Lord surrendering his armour for the robes of a Jedi was a symbolic moment, marking the end of the New Sith Wars and the Dark Age of the Republic. Now it seemed that Dooku was to do the opposite.
He'd always known that launching a full scale invasion of another system would be a provocative act, one that would set the Jedi Council howling with outrage. Somehow, he hadn't understood quite what it would mean until this exact moment, when he was presented with a set of armour for battle. He was going to fight, so of course he should wear armour. This time it would be clear he wouldn't be acting as a liberator, but as a conqueror.
After the silence dragged on for a moment too long, he realised his daughter was looking at him expectantly.
"Thank you, daughter." He finally said. "It's a great gift."
With the help of the Armourer, Dooku stripped off his cape, boots, and belt, before fastening the cuirass on over his shirt. Piece by piece, the mandalorian instructed him on how to affix the greaves, the gauntlets, the pauldrons, and many other pieces, until finally the helmet slid over his head and sealed itself against his skin with an ear popping rush of air. The helmet itself fit perfectly, and had an internal display that could be synced up with his compad.
"Finally, there's this." The Armourer said, presenting to Dooku a leather hip holster. "I have crafted these to go with each set. For you and your daughter, there's room for a lightsaber and a pistol."
"I have no need for a blaster." Dooku said.
"Which is why your lightsaber will go on the dominant side, and your blaster on the opposite one. This is the way." Without asking Dooku's permission or waiting, he reached down to secure the leather buckles around Dooku's hips. "A very mighty seventy year old." He murmured, briefly squeezing the Count. "Are all Jedi so blessed?"
Dooku didn't answer, giving the man a cool stare.
"When you have the chance, I recommend finding a form fitting undersuit to replace your civilian clothes. They are of fine make, and such craftsmanship should not be wasted in battle." At last the Armourer stood up right, surveying his work. He stared for a long moment, his dissatisfaction obvious in the Force, before murmuring. "If I had more time, perhaps I could have done better."
Dooku gave the strange man a curt nod before leaving his workshop, emerging from the armoury to find most of the House Guard waiting for him, along with Kai the Mandalorian child, and his wife. There was a pause after he stepped out, before excited murmuring broke out among the House Guard. The Palace servants that surrounded his wife also seemed quite taken aback, but Athemeene just looked worried more than anything. She'd forgotten her mental exercises for the moment, and he could sense that while she was relieved he was going into battle well-protected, it barely offset her worry about him going to battle at all..
"You look… fearsome." Athemeene finally said.
Dooku chuckled. "Thank you, Meene."
"I know you're busy now, but there's something I wanted to show you, before you leave."
"Very good, father." Tan'ya said, emerging from the armoury. "I'll go try on my own now." Only to step back into it a moment later, closing the door behind her.
Dooku followed his wife upstairs to the Palace grounds, and even further down the road to the edge of the palace grounds. The large forcefield that surrounded the palace had one major gate through it, and a few smaller ones at other points so the House Guard could enter the jungle and mountainside. His wife led him right up to the barrier, and pointed beyond it to where in the middle of the road, sheltered from rain by the overhang of the gate itself, a stack of small coins and incense had been left.
"We've been receiving visitors from the city below." Athemeene explained. They climb the entire mountain, just to pay tribute to the 'master of this world'. It's twelve kilometres from here to the city, and it's all uphill."
"Are they causing trouble?" Dooku asked. "The guard can remove them easily enough."
Rather than answer, Athemeene stood quiet for a moment. He reached over to pull her close, giving her a moment to gather her thoughts.
"Is Tan'ya going with you?" Athemeene asked, clutching his armoured wrist in obvious worry.
"No." Dooku answered. "She will remain here with you."
That didn't seem to assuage her worries very much.
"You don't need to fear for me, Meene. I have every reason to be confident of my victory."
"She has her own set of armour." Athemeene said in a low, worried voice. "And she fought up there when those pirates attacked! She's still a child, you can't send her into battle again."
Dooku took off his helmet, sharing a pained smile with his wife. "I understand your fears, Meene. I share them. But you have to understand, our daughter has a great destiny ahead of her."
In the Force, Athameene's mind swelled with bitter sorrow. "Destiny…" she sighed mournfully, then gave him a pleading look. "Dooku, please, walk with me."
"...Of course," Dooku agreed, the thought of his many remaining duties barely crossing his mind before he did so. He followed his wife across the palace grounds, barely noting a hedge the groundskeeper trimmed into the likeness of a dragon, his mind focused on the swirling vortex of anxiety and fear obscuring the rest of Athameene's Force presence.
She abruptly stopped, and Dooku watched as she took a deep breath, gathering the courage to voice whatever was plaguing her. "I've been reading some of Sifo's old Jedi texts recently," she started, voice quiet, "searching for wisdom from accounts of those close to great men like Lord Farfalla and Lord Hoth. About how to deal with the insurmountable odds the universe keeps stacking against their loved ones. How to lessen their burdens. I even talked to Sturn about his dead wife, how he deals with knowing that the same fate may one day await his Jedi son or his youngling grandchildren. Dooku, do you know what was the answer I got?"
"No," he replied simply.
"To trust in the Force!" she burst out, her voice full of bitter, powerless rage. "The same one that dictated Sifo that damned prophecy! The same cursed thing that delivered you to the clutches of the Sith, and shaped our daughter into a weapon since her birth!"
"No, Meene," Dooku shook his head. "My failures are my own. It was only by turning my back against the Force that made me sink so low." Some part of him still felt like it was sinking.
"That might be true, but Dooku, Tan'ya is eight years old! At her age, I played with dolls! I didn't know yet what death truly is! Meanwhile, she commands thousands of soldiers, and she has fought, and killed, men who'd give her a fate worse than death should she lose!"
Dooku stared at his wife, unmoving, watching as tears streaked across her face. What could he even tell her? That Tan'ya thrived in such things, that she'd find the palace life of a noble child, free of responsibility, stifling if not humiliating? Athemeene knew it. That knowledge was the very source of her sorrow.
"I loathe it, Dooku," she sobbed out. "And I loathe myself for accepting it. Because I know she's the only one strong enough to shoulder that damned prophecy. I talked about how… different she is with her, and couldn't forget the look of sorrow as she told me how she's nothing like her siblings, that they can't do what she does. And I know that, if not her, the Force will just use another of our children to fulfill the prophecy and write the fate of the Galaxy that will chew them up and spit them out if given the chance."
Dooku sent the feeling of calm as he embraced Athameene, sensing but the barest pressure as he did so through the cold durasteel of his armor. "Fate is not immutable," he stated, meeting her eyes. "Nor is our role in it. Hundreds of prophecies rot in the vaults of Coruscant temple, never to be fulfilled."
"...Maybe we could ask her to step down from the Advisory then? Anything to keep her from fighting any more battles." His wife said, voice tinged with hope. "Not to mention, her duties keep her working almost every day, from dawn to dusk, either holed up in her office or flying all across the planet overseeing something or other. Her siblings know and spend more time with Vai, the Mandalorian girl, than they do with her! Being relieved of duties would give her an opportunity to change that."
"I considered it," Dooku replied, "after I learned just how involved she was in the battle over Serenno from Gon. But in the end, I decided against it."
"Why?"
"It would only breed resentment. We both know she loves what she does, and she'd view taking away her responsibilities as a punishment. Not to mention, it could end up doing more harm than good; oftentimes, the surest way to meet one's destiny is by trying to avoid it. It is better for her to not hinder the course of fate, and let her face it prepared."
"So, should I just trust in the Force?!"
"The Force has given Tan'ya extraordinary insight for a reason, Meene." Dooku said, placing a calming hand on his wife's shoulder. "But I do not ask for you to have trust in It; instead, trust in your daughter."
Athemeene could only hang her head, and Dooku could only hold her.
A mechanical hand clutched a holocom, barely visible in the unlit room. Only the light of the distant stars in the window offered any illumination, until a button was pressed, and a number was called.
There were a few moments as the device dialled, before finally someone answered. Yet the holocom remained silent, its display showing nothing - whoever answered refused to step into the display, or as much as say a word.
"Will you do it?" Maul demanded, his voice almost breaking as the nervousness crept in. "Have you scouted them out?"
"Jedi Temple's airtight. Hard getting in. Harder getting out." The voice considered, chewing on something. "And you want a Youngling? Don't think a Bounty Hunter's the kind of professional you need."
"No!" Maul hissed, and the exhalation made him wince as he strained his windpipe. Fighting a cough, he sucked down water to calm his burning throat, before insisting. "I need it. I need it now! I'm so close, the timing is crucial! I witnessed you work, you're more than capable of it, Bane! You're the only one."
Unimpressed, the Bounty Hunter leaned into the call, his large eyes gleaming dangerously even from the other side of the Galaxy. "No names, or we're done. Don't know if someone could be listening."
Maul felt his pulse rising, but he forced it down, swallowing his anger. "Can you do it or not?!" He growled, demanding. "I need to know, now!"
Bane didn't answer right away, chewing on his toothpick as he thought things through. "I'll take the risk." He finally decided. "Gonna need an advance, though. Specialty equipment ain't cheap."
"You can do it?!" Maul rasped out, excited. "You can do it tonight?!"
"I'll get you the boy."
"No!" Maul hissed out before managing to compose himself. "No, don't bring him to me. Take him somewhere else, it doesn't matter where." His fingers danced across the keypad, and there was a ping as Bane received the coordinates. "You understand? Get the boy from the Temple, I'll wire you the money now."
"You better." Bane warned, leaning back out of the projection again. "Ain't moving from this spot till it gets here."
"It's on its way now." Maul snarled, then hung up. Once it was done, he looked out the window, eyes narrowing on a small star in the distance. "Just you wait, Jedi. I know you told the old man I was coming, and I will have my revenge."