Count of Serenno chapter 42

22 BBY

This was the first time Anakin had ever been to Indinoor, but from orbit it looked almost like Tatooine with a deeper brown tint. At a glance, the planet was clearly vast and barren, with only a few clouds rolling across its surface. Its oceans of mud and industrial slurry shone with a thin layer of a greasy rainbow hue as the sunlight refracted across its surface. There was one exception though, a single patch of green right at the edge of where the exposed surface of blasted black granite met the oceans of muck.

The green spot was composed of a patchwork of farms, all connected by a clearly marked series of roads and fences. Out in the mud flats, what looked like a fishing trawler hauled in a net crawling with filthy crustaceans, and there were even other flat bottomed vessels like it hovering even further out into the sea. Farms all spread outward from a single point, a vast plateau of solid stone that rose up forty metres into the air. In the shadow of that natural stone column, there was what looked like a large village, with market stalls in place, and a yard full of tractors for sale.

It was odd, but seeing the dusty brown town left Anakin with a strange sense of nostalgia for Watto’s scrapyard.

At the top of the Plateau was the Jedi Temple, constructed in the style familiar to all Orders across the Galaxy, its central construction featuring a pyramid and several towers. At the apex of the pyramid was a verdant green garden, whose trees and brushes swayed in the strong breeze. 

With careful precision, Anakin brought their ship to a halt and let it gently lower down towards the landing platform. The port was abuzz with activity, their little ship barely managing to find a place among other craft. In every corner, armed jedi hurried about, many wearing flight suits rather than robes, fueling what Anakin recognised as long range, hyperspace capable fighters and bombers. All the Indinoor Jedi seemed ready to move at a moment’s notice, and were packing rations and water into the holds of their ship.

Despite the end of their long journey from Coruscant to Indinoor, Obi-Wan did not look relieved to arrive. If anything, Duchess Satine was the one who seemed happiest to be here. She glided down the landing ramp towards the waiting reception in her full regalia, every bit the dignified monarch. Behind her, close to her shoulder was Knight Vai, dressed in the armoured uniform of the Indinoor Jedi with the chain of office at her neck.

Waiting to greet them was Count Dooku, his silver hair and proud hawkish features standing in sharp contrast to the young family that surrounded him. There was a multitude of decades between him and his wife, who was a beautiful woman standing proudly behind her children. The oldest of them was a teenage boy, who bore a striking resemblance to his father despite his youth. Next in line was a girl who was just in her preteens, her face notably scarred. The last was the smallest, a young boy who was gaping with undisguised awe at the Mandalorian bodyguards of the Duchess.

None of them were Tan’ya, whose adventures had already made her somewhat famous and infamous among the Coruscant Jedi. Anakin wasn’t sure how many of the rumours he believed, but he had been curious about his fellow Chosen One for a long time, and felt somewhat disappointed she wasn’t there. 

“Duchess Satine.” Dooku greeted, but didn’t reach out to her. Normally a head of state would treat the other to a handshake, or even a kiss on the cheek, but in this case Dooku left that to his wife, who warmly hugged Satine.

“It brings me great joy to see you unharmed.” He looked over to Anakin and Obi-Wan, the warmth leaving his eyes in an instant. “Was the escort I provided insufficient?”

In the corner of his eye, Anakin noticed Obi-Wan try and fail to suppress a wince.

“No, not at all,” Satine answered. “Obi-Wan is an old friend. He asked to come here because he wished to speak with you.”

“Is that so?” Dooku answered. “Then out of consideration for you, I will listen to what he has to say.”

“Well, let me introduce you now.”

“We’ve already met, actually.” Obi-Wan spoke up, stepping forward. 

“Yes,” Dooku agreed. “It was not a joyous occasion.”

“Indeed, the loss of Qui-Gon Jinn has affected us all very deeply.” Obi-Wan smoothly brushed past the snub, and Anakin had to admire his delicacy. “My Master was a great man.”

At the reminder of their shared connection, Dooku’s stern expression softened a touch. 

“Duchess Satine,” Athemeene spoke up, “why don’t you come with me? We’ll help you get acquainted with where you’ll be staying here, and give Master Kenobi and my husband a chance to speak in private.”

Duchess Satine agreed, and let herself be led away by the Count’s family, Jedi Knight Vai trailing behind her. As Vai walked, Anakin saw the children closing ranks around her, and began to ask questions. For the first time, he even saw a smile on the stern knight’s face as she even held the hands of the young girl with the scars.

Just how close were these Jedi to the Serenno dynasty?

When they had the platform to themselves, Dooku glanced at Anakin, but mostly kept his attention on Obi-Wan. 

“The Council has asked me to investigate the matter of the attack on Duchess Satine.” Obi-Wan began. “The trail of evidence we followed led us to Mandalore, but given the sensitivity of the situation, we thought it best to ask permission before travelling there directly.”

“The Council concerns itself with my thoughts now?” Dooku drawled. “How novel.”

“I assure you, the Council hardly thinks of anyone else.” Obi-Wan smiled.

The joke actually got the corners of Dooku’s lips to twitch. “I can see why they sent you.” He considered the request for a few moments. “The attackers must be brought to justice, and the truth brought to light for the whole Galaxy to see.”

“Of course.” Obi-Wan agreed, after only a fraction of a second's hesitation.

“Good. then you agree that when the attacker is revealed to be the Trade Federation, it will be in the interest of all to make this knowledge public.”

The certainty in Count’s voice gave Obi-Wan pause. “It is far too early for such accusations. We’re just trying to get to the bottom of this.”

“And at the bottom of this is the Trade Federation.” Dooku harrumphed. “You can be sure of that.”

“Is that why you’re preparing for war?” Anakin asked.

Dooku turned to regard him. “I don’t believe we’ve met before. Padawan…?”

“Anakin Skywalker.” He bowed. 

“Ah yes, I remember now.” Dooku frowned. “If the Trade Federation is prepared to wage war on me, should I not prepare to defend my people as well?”

“Sure,” Anakin agreed with an easy shrug. “But it looks to me like you’re the one who wants this war to start.”

“Oh?” Dooku raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I might lack your experience in military matters, but even I’ve noticed that in many ways the Alliance has the upper hand against the Trade Federation.”

“And what would those ways be, Young Skywalker?” Dooku asked. “Our combined fleets are still a fraction of their size, we would be madmen to want a war we stand no chance of winning.”

“Really?” Anakin raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “That’s not how I see it. You’ve already demonstrated that their current fleet of converted cargo haulers are poorly designed for battle, and you seem to be able to capture them with near impunity when they cross into your sector, though I’m not sure how. The Corporate Sector sits at the end of the Hydian Way, and has access to the Perlemian Trade Run. Which means that if you do shut them out of Alliance space, they won’t be able to access their markets in the Core at all. You’ve got your hands resting comfortably around their neck, and now you just need an excuse to start squeezing.” 

Dooku stared at him, the corner of his lips slightly upturned. “A fair assessment, if not for their industrial capacity dwarfing ours completely. Even with the dockyards at Botajef and Raxus Prime restored to working order, they can produce almost three times as many ships as we can. Any prolonged conflict against the Trade Federation would see the Alliance crushed.”

“You know, you’re right,” Anakin agreed, smirking. “But somehow I just can’t shake the feeling that it’s not gonna stop you.”

Obi-Wan stepped forward. “I think, what my Padawan means to say, is that our purpose here is merely to bring criminals to justice. If our investigation should incriminate the Trade Federation, or exonerate them, we will follow the evidence where it leads, you have my word.”

“...Very well.” Dooku finally agreed. “I propose a joint investigation. I will dispatch my two best investigators to aid you on Mandalore and share information, ensuring the Council and I can be confident in whatever you uncover.”

It seemed like a fair deal to Anakin, but Obi-Wan looked worried. “May I ask, who will be your representative?” 

“Jedi Knight Vos, and Jedi Knight Prialla are my two most experienced investigators.”

Obi-Wan maintained an expression of careful neutrality. “I see.”

“Something the matter?”

“Knight Vos and I have something of a history.” Obi-Wan explained, and Anakin had to resist the urge to stare. Vos had left Coruscant only a year and a half after Anakin had arrived, but he remembered Kenobi being friends with him. “I’m worried our prior disagreements might affect the investigation.”

“I see.” Dooku frowned. “Well, if that’s the case, I can ask the Jedi Council to recall you, and send investigators that won’t cause such concerns.”

“...That won’t be necessary.” Kenobi said. “I’m sure we can put our differences behind us.”

“Very good.” Count Dooku gave Kenobi a satisfied smile. “Well, if that will be all?”

“Actually.” Anakin spoke up. “I was hoping for a chance to meet your eldest daughter. Is Tan’ya not on Indinoor right now?”

The Count turned to regard him. “No. She’s on Serenno, preparing its armies for a potential war. She had duties at home that she must attend to in my absence.”

“A shame,” Anakin lowered his head in disappointment. “I was looking forward to meeting the fellow Chosen One.”

“I am afraid she would not share your enthusiasm,” Dooku huffed, before turning to rejoin the rest of his family inside the Temple. Obi-Wan watched the man leave, an annoyed expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just can’t escape the feeling that we’re being toyed with.” 

“In what way?”

Obi-Wan frowned. “I’m pretty sure Vos is the Council’s spy, keeping an eye on Dooku, and now he’s sent the man away at a crucial moment.”

“And Master Yoda didn’t mention this to us?” Anakin scowled. “If Dooku has a spy right next to him, we should have contacted him to ensure Dooku isn’t hiding anything from us!”

“I think you’re missing the bigger picture, Padawan.” Kenobi grunted.

A protocol droid waddled out of the temple’s entrance, sent by Dooku to give them a guided tour, while its master retired to his office, no doubt to scheme the destruction of the Federation. Even Obi-Wan didn’t get a chance to speak with Duchess Satine, as she was also caught up in preparation for a potential civil war.

It would have been nice to get a chance to have a conversation with some of the Jedi from Indinoor, but none of them seemed to have time for him, all rushing about in a frenzy. The few he spoke to only had time for a few platitudes, assuring that he and the other Coruscant Jedi were welcome here, in a way that only highlighted how they all felt the need to say it. It was a little frustrating that many of the students were already knights. It seemed Dooku wasn’t as determined to infantilize his pupils as Master Yoda was.

After a day of fruitless milling about, Anakin and Obi-Wan eventually made their way to their quarters, preparing to rest.. 

Before Anakin could say his goodnights, Obi-Wan stopped him, lingering in the door to his bedroom. “I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier, and I think you’re right. There are two Hyperlanes coming out of the Corporate Sector, and the Alliance has control over systems that would allow them to block both. I checked my compad, and its not looking good for the Trade Federation - they are yet to fully recover from the disaster at Naboo, even after getting a major bailout from the Senate. A few bad battles could be all that stands between them and total bankrupcy. Even worse, most of their Security Fleet is spread out across the entire Galaxy, committed to their existing security contracts with various worlds. They can’t just withdraw their ships, or they’ll be drowning in lawsuits.”

“If their overheads are so high,” Anakin added, “and they need their ships to make money for them, what do you think the chances are that they've been keeping up with maintenance on their reserves?”

“For obvious reasons, they won’t share that.” Obi-Wan said. “On paper, the Trade Federation fleet might be far bigger than the Alliance’s, but how much of it can they actually use?”

“...Do you think Dooku knows?” Anakin asked. “How long do you think they’ve been planning this?”

Obi-Wan frowned. “I’ll try calling Yoda. Why don’t you try to get some rest, and we’ll see what we can confirm in the morning. At the moment all we have is speculation.”

Anakin nodded and stepped into his room. “Goodnight, Master.”

It wasn’t a good night, though. Anakin lay in bed, restlessly staring at the ceiling. It wasn’t the looming war that plagued his mind, or the investigation into the assassination, but Padme that kept him awake. 

It wasn’t as though she disliked him, or thought poorly of him. She just didn’t think of him at all. He was nothing, nobody. Supposedly the Chosen One, but denied the chance to do anything by that little green goblin and that Council of old men whose only interest was continuing to do nothing. Did they really think that proving the assassin had worked alone would make a difference to Dooku, and the rest of the Outer Rim?

They were holding him back. The frustration was burning away at him, only made worse by the realisation that the woman who had filled his thoughts for almost a decade hadn’t even spared a single thought for him during that same time.

Restless energy stirring inside him, and eventually Anakin gave up on sleep. He sat up and turned his bedside light on, looking for something to distract his wandering mind. There was a small bookshelf in the corner, with a number of old fashioned flimsi books stocked on it, so he walked over to grab one off the shelf to read the title.

“A Complete History of the Galactic Republic. Volume Nine. The Great Galactic Wars. Written by Tan’ya of House Serenno, in memory of Dr Difo Syas.”

Anakin blinked at that. She wrote a book?

He read a few pages, before giving up and putting it back on the shelf. The book was incredibly dry, dispassionately going into detail about Galactic Macro-Economics, which only made Anakin’s mind more as his eyes glazed over trying to read it. He returned it to the shelf, and squatted down to check the rest of the titles. 

There were twelve volumes in total, with the last one being Volume 12, the New Sith Wars. No other books sat on the shelf, making Anakin’s brow raise. Did they have the completed series in every guest room? Was she showing off?

He didn’t have time to read twelve volumes of densely packed history, but he did open up his compad and quickly looked them up online. Reviews were a bit mixed, from what Anakin could see. The first two books were written by Dr Difo Syas, and were well regarded but the third book abruptly changed focus to the dry minutiae of warfare. Around that time the original writer died, and that was when Tan’ya stepped in. Her writing style was very much more like a report, with less focus on entertaining the audience and trying to persuade them of the moral good of the Republic, and instead took an alienating and neutral tone. She spoke about the Republic like she was examining a foreign power, identifying its strengths, motivations and weaknesses. Some people enjoyed the tone, but it rubbed others the wrong way.

Surprisingly, there were even some news articles about Tan’ya in particular. Anakin found that there were actually several journalists who had been following the House of Serenno for years, and writing about them in a hostile context. 

GHASTLY NEPOTISM IN THE OUTER RIM, shouted one headline. The author seemed particularly contemptuous of the notion that Tan’ya was credited for a wide ranging series of military reforms to Serenno, that a number of other worlds in the Alliance had begun copying. That genuinely shocked Anakin, and he found himself reading more and more about the surprising body of achievements credited to the girl. Military reforms, diplomatic efforts, establishing academies of engineering on Raxus and Serenno, Officer Schools, and even participating in several battles if rumor was to be believed. The other Chosen One had been busy, while he was stuck in the Temple. 

It was deeply frustrating. Obi-Wan would stick up for him from time to time, but at the end of the day he just didn’t see the same problem that Anakin did. ‘Trust the Council,’ Obi-Wan insisted, but then why didn’t the Council trust Anakin? He would do anything they asked, if they just gave him something to do!

Sighing, Anakin lay back in bed. The worst thing was realising that he actually missed Watto. Yeah, the slimy junkyard owner wasn’t exactly pleasant company, and of course Anakin had hated being a slave, but at least the Toydarian trusted him. Build this, fix that, clean this, check that part for damage, dismantle that hyper compressor, on and on. It wasn’t fun work, and often it left Anakin covered in filthy grease and with sore hands, but at least he felt useful, and was given a chance to learn and grow.

Slave Master Watto treated Anakin better than Jedi Master Yoda in some ways. In too many ways.

If it hadn’t been for Chancellor Palpatine, Anakin wouldn’t know what to do. Not only had the man freed his mother and given her a place to live and work on Coruscant, but he was one of the only people who seemed to see Anakin’s potential.

“‘Patience is like a muscle. Exercising it makes you stronger.’” Anakin murmured. The Council might not trust him now, but the time would come when they would need him. He wasn’t even a knight yet, and he was already one of the strongest in the Order.

Finally, Anakin was able to rest, the sound of sand on the wind slowly lulling him to sleep.

Anakin looked like he had barely slept a wink last night, and Obi-Wan could hardly blame him. With the threat of war looming over the Galaxy, Kenobi wondered how many billions of other sentients had struggled in the late hours of the night?

As a Jedi, Kenobi didn’t allow himself to hate, but he certainly had no love for the Trade Federation. He understood Dooku’s grievances well; the Federation was expansionist, they wouldn’t stop harassing worlds until they got their way, they had a disproportionate influence on the Senate, and they mistreated the people they ruled over, it was all true. Even so, whatever problems there were with the Trade Federation, surely they could be settled in Court and not on the battlefield? Was it really worth dragging potentially hundreds of worlds into war, when if everyone was willing to see reason, they could just litigate the issue without a drop of blood shed?

Dooku should have been setting an example for the Galaxy to follow, instead of goading his enemy to make the first move.

Obi-Wan sighed, and chewed on his cereal. The dried grains and blue electrolyte milk weren’t an ideal breakfast, but with both him and Anakin late to the table, they needed something to fill their stomachs quickly. His Padawan was battling restlessness all morning, trying to get even a wink of sleep, while Obi-Wan got caught in a lengthy conversation with Yoda and Mace. Sitting there across from his Padawan, Obi-Wan’s enjoyment of quiet breakfast with a hot cup of cafstim was suddenly interrupted by the appearance of an unusually small Jedi sliding into the chair across from him with a glum expression.

It took Obi-Wan a moment to recognize Jedi Knight Prialla. He never knew her personally, she’d been a few years above his creche as a youngling on Coruscant, but he had heard of her joining Dooku on Indinoor almost immediately after her knighting. All these years later, he’d almost forgotten that she was here, but he remembered her distinctively small silhouette.

He swallowed his mouthful of cereal, before giving her a polite smile. “Knight Prialla, it’s been years. I’ve heard you’ve joined the investigation with us.”

“Good morning, Knight Kenobi.” She answered, and gave him a polite smile, though her face quickly fell back to a frown. “Vos should be here soon.”

Obi-Wan glanced at Anakin, who had looked up at the appearance of the diminutive Jedi. “Anakin, this is Knight Prialla. She left Coruscant not long before you arrived.”

“Good to meet you.” Anakin said, flashing an awkward smile. 

“Why so glum?” Kenbobi asked after a moment, trying to clear the uncomfortable air forming between them.

“Last minute reassignment.” She huffed. “Don’t worry, I’ll do my best on the investigation, but I was really expecting to be here for the battle.”

Obi-Wan and Anakin exchanged glances.

“You want to fight in the coming war?” Kenobi asked.

“Yeah, of course.” Prialla answered, looking up, eyes wide. “That’s what the Jedi are supposed to do, right? Defeat evil and protect the innocent.”

Obi-Wan pursed his lips, surprised. “War is not something a Jedi should seek out, and I say that having fought in two of them.”

“And one of those was against the Trade Federation.” Prialla replied, gaze determined and unwavering. “They need to be stopped, Knight Kenobi, and you of all people should know that after they made you starve and killed Master Jinn.” 

Obi-Wan frowned. He was about to reply,  snappish and cutting response on his lips, when Vos arrived.

“Obi-Wan!” He smiled as he pulled out his chair. “It’s been years, how are you?”

Looking at the man, Obi-Wan wasn’t quite sure he felt as happy to see him. Whether Vos was working for the Council or not, that didn’t change the fact that he’d abandoned his Padawan before she was ready.

“I’m well, Vos. We were just talking about the coming war.”

At that, Vos barked a laugh. “Well, if you’re hoping to talk us out of it, you’re arguing in the wrong corner. It’s the Council’s decision.”

Obi-Wan blinked at that. “I didn’t know the Indinoor Temple had its own Council.”

“Well, at the moment we only have a few Jedi Masters in the whole temple, so not all the seats are filled.” Prialla answered. “But it won’t be long until more of our Knights achieve the rank of Master.”

“I see.” Obi-Wan thought for a moment. “And who decides when a Knight is ready to become a Master?”

“Well, the Council, of course.” Prialla answered.

“Which until recently was composed entirely of Dooku.” Obi-Wan prodded. “So everyone on the Council was appointed by him as well.”

“And Master Narec!” Prialla frowned, annoyed. “He’s been here since the start.”

“I see.” Obi-Wan replied. “So you’re telling me that the Temple is going to war entirely on the word of Count Dooku and his sock puppet.”

There was the sound of a scraping chair as Prialla shot to her feet, eyes glittering with fury. At her diminutive height, even standing over a seated Obi-Wan her eyes were only a little above his. “Master Narec is a greater Jedi than you ever will be!” She hissed. “And if you like, I can show you what he’s taught me.”

It took Obi-Wan half a moment to realise he was being challenged to a duel.

“Prialla.” Vos suddenly spoke up, and she turned to him. “That’s enough.”

“But he said-”

“I heard what he said.” Vos agreed. “And Obi-Wan is going to apologise, because he was out of line.” He turned his head to meet Obi-Wan’s gaze. “Right?”

“Yes, of course.” Obi-Wan lowered his gaze. “I spoke ill of Master Narec, when I shouldn’t have. I apologise”

“I think we’re all just a little hot under the collar.” Vos murmured. “Right, Pri?”

“...I’m not the one you should apologise to.” She stared at Obi-Wan for a few moments longer, before saying. “You’re right, Vos. I think I need to cool off.” She snatched up her tray and left, stalking away with hurried footsteps out of the mess hall.

After she was gone, Vos looked at Obi-Wan, scowling. “What in the blazes was that, Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan looked at Vos with remorse. “I overstepped. It’s just I cannot fathom why are the Jedi around here so loyal to Dooku and Narec? The man is an autocrat and a despot, and Narec seems to back his every decision unquestioningly.”

Vos squinted at him, like he couldn’t believe the question. “Because they’re heroes, Kenobi.”

It was such a blunt answer that it took Obi-Wan completely by surprise. “Really?”

“Of course!” Quinlan laughed at the shocked expression on his old friend’s face. “It’s a classic heroic narrative; the one good man trapped in a corrupt institution, Dooku turned his back on the corruption and decadence of the Core to come and fight for the people of the Outer Rim, peeling back the syndicates and megacorps one star system at a time.”

“Or to put another way, he turned his back on the Jedi Order and the rule of law to become a petty warlord ruling over a feudal state!”

“Well, that’s certainly a way to phrase it, but no one is telling that story to the Outer Rim.” Vos shook his head, bemused.

“It’s all over the holonet!” Kenobi replied, and Anakin nodded in agreement.

“It’s all over my newsfeed, and I’m sick of hearing about it,” his Padawan muttered.

“You think the people of the Outer Rim pay attention to what’s coming out of the Core? They hate the Core. The Feed has way more reach, and a lot more people in the Rim are using it, and Dooku dominates the Feed.”

Now Obi-Wan felt confused. “What, the rumored Shadowfeed?” As he asked it, Anakin was already typing something on his holocom.

“Looks like it’s an alternative to the Holonet.” Anakin murmured. “They’ve got news, weather, public astrogation charts, search engines, everything. Even their own social media!”

“Does the Jedi Council even know this exists?” Obi-Wan asked, disbelieving. He turned to look at Quinlan. “Why didn’t you report this?”

“Why would I?” Vos barked out a laugh. “I don’t work for them anymore.”

Obi-Wan froze in place. For a moment, he couldn’t tell if this was Vos maintaining cover, or if he really no longer saw himself as a Coruscant Jedi.

“Well, it looks like I’ve given you a lot to chew on,” Quinlan said, standing up. “I’m going to go see if Prialla has cooled off. Will you be ready to head to Mandalore in an hour?”

“Yes.” Kenobi answered, hesitantly.

“Well, see you on the landing pad.” Vos turned and strode away.

Obi-Wan watched the man leave, feeling surprisingly nervous all of a sudden. What in the blazes was this Galaxy coming to?