Stained and dirty now from the turbolift tunnel, the rest of the team grinned as they tucked their lightsabers into their utility belts. Winning was so close now they could taste it.
They ran down the hallway toward the exit. They burst into the open air and ran in the direction of the market. The sun was high overhead now, but clouds were beginning to gather. Shade and shadow dappled them as they dodged shoppers and carts and made their way toward the fruitsellers.
Suddenly Dooku wished they had formed a plan before they'd charged into the market. They were all running full-tilt, all of them hoping to be the first to buy a muja fruit and get it back safely to the Temple. He had lost his focus because the end was so near.
His datascreen flashed. His other two Blue Team members, the ones in the market, had been hit. Lorian hadn't set up an ambush in the Senate after all.
"They're in the market!" Dooku yelled. "Split up!"
A blur of red, then green came to Dooku out of the corner of his eye. He stopped so quickly he almost fell backward into a display of children's toys. Members of the Gold Team were charging at his team, their lightsabers held discreetly at their sides, but ready to strike. He saw Hran get tapped and he turned away, a disgusted look on his face. Galinda held a muja fruit in her hands as Lorian suddenly appeared from behind an awning. His lightsaber whirled gracefully and came down with the slightest touch on the back of her shoulder. Galinda winced. Lorian smiled, plucked the muja out of her hand, and tucked it into his tunic.
Now each team had five members left. It was a tie. Dooku had lost his lead.
Lorian threw a glance at Dooku through the crowd. Dooku saw a playful challenge in his friend's gaze. Fury coursed through him. He didn't feel playful.
This isn't a game, he thought. Not for me.
Dooku leaped over the display of toys. He snaked around a couple with a baby in a repulsorlift carrier. He dived under a table, rolled, and came up behind a Gold Team member. He struck him lightly between the shoulder blades. He didn't stay to notice his reaction, but moved on, striking another team member from behind, then moving in to engage in battle with another. He dodged the whirling lightsaber and kicked at a jar of syrup on display. It smashed on the floor, the Jedi student slipped, and Dooku claimed another hit. He did not pause but ran full-tilt toward another Gold Team member who was racing toward the fruitseller. Dooku accessed the Force and leaped. Usually his control wasn't the best for this maneuver — he still had much to learn — but he surprised himself with perfect execution. He landed in front of the student and simply tapped his shoulder.
Breathing hard, Dooku glanced at his datapad. Lorian's strike had been successful. Every one of his team members had been hit. But he had managed to take out the rest of Lorian's team. That made them even. Except for the fact that Lorian had a muja fruit.
No time to get the fruit. If he got Lorian, he'd get the muja. He'd make it to the Temple and deposit it politely right into the hands of Master Yoda.
The Padawans had all trudged off, some in pairs or groups, to make their way back to the Temple. They were not allowed to help their captains. Lorian had disappeared into the crowd.
Think, Dooku. Don't act until you think. Dooku called on the Force to help him. At first he saw only beings and goods in the market. He concentrated, waiting until his brain registered the familiar. A certain tilt of the head. A step. An angle of the chin. Some movement so tiny that his senses would pick it up in a sea of information that he couldn't process. But the Force could.
The Force surged. Everything fell away, and he saw Lorian. Cleverly he had reversed his cloak so that the darker underside was out. Dooku set off after him. He would not make the same mistake again. He would wait for his moment.
He stayed well behind Lorian. He didn't think Lorian knew he was on his trail. Lorian headed out of the market and turned down an alley that Dooku wasn't familiar with. Leave it to Lorian to find all the back ways in Coruscant. Dooku faded back, careful to stay out of sight. It was afternoon now, and the sun had dropped behind heavy cloud cover. It was almost as dark as evening, and the glowlights were on their lowest setting.
The alley twisted back behind the market and made a sharp left turn, now snaking along the back entrances of a variety of shops and restaurants. The odor of garbage was strong. Dooku put his cloak over his nose. He had a fastidious nature. He liked cleanliness and order.
To Dooku's surprise, the Temple suddenly loomed ahead. They were much closer than he'd thought. His heartbeat raced. Lorian was in sight of winning! He couldn't let that happen. He had to strike now.
Gathering the Force, Dooku leaped. He landed on a soft heap of garbage, which gave him plenty of spring. Garbage is good for something, after all, he thought as the momentum sent him skyward. He flew over Lorian's head and landed in front of him, lightsaber activated. He did not wait to absorb the shock of his landing but used the bounce for his charge.
Lorian had less than a second to adjust, but his reflexes were excellent, a source of envy among the other students. He leaped backward, reaching for his lightsaber and tilting his move so that Dooku's first strike whistled through the air.
"So you found me," he said. He seemed delighted, not dismayed. Their friendship had been built on competition. It had always been fun. But Lorian's reaction only enraged Dooku. He resented Lorian's ease, his assumption that they would always be friends, no matter what. That's what made Lorian push the boundary of their friendship. He pushed too hard. Then he expected Dooku to take it.
There was a flash of surprise on Lorian's face when he noted the coldness in Dooku's gaze. He stumbled backward as Dooku came at him furiously, his lightsaber a blur of color and motion.
Lorian recovered almost instantly. He counterattacked in a series of aggressive moves while Dooku was forced on the defensive.
The two friends knew each other's moves so well by now. Again and again Dooku tried to surprise Lorian, but he was checked every time. Frustration built in him, clouding his mind. He knew he had to find his calm center in order to win, but he couldn't. He had lost his battle mind.
They fought down the length of the alley, using the garbage bins as cover and occasionally as weapons, pushing the bins toward each other in order to gain a precious moment or two to take a breath.
Time stopped. Dooku was lost in the battle, lost in his own sweat and his own need to win. They were both tired now. Lorian's face was bright red with effort, and his hair was wet. Every so often they both had to stop, exhausted, and lean over to catch their breaths. Then one of them would recover more quickly and launch himself at the other. Their grunts and cries echoed down the alleyway.
Time may have stopped, but the sun still moved. Long shadows snaked down the alley floor. It was past time for them to return to the Temple. By the rules, they had both already lost.
"Come on, Dooku," Lorian said. "It's over."
Dooku took several ragged breaths. Spots had formed in front of his eyes, a sign that he was seriously exhausted. He felt dizzy. He reached for the Force. It was elusive. Instead of flowing through him, he could barely feel it trickle. But it was enough to send a small spurt of strength through his limbs.
"Not yet," he said, attacking Lorian.
Lorian was at the end of the alley now. He had only a few steps before his back would be against the wall. Dooku knew he could finish him there.
But Lorian suddenly turned, leaving his back exposed for a split second, and ran at the wall. He used a basic Padawan exercise, but Dooku was surprised he still had the strength. He ran up the wall, then flipped over Dooku's head. As soon as he landed, he leaped again, this time on a pile of garbage. From there he gained the roof overhead.
Dooku found the strength he was looking for. He followed Lorian's path, launching onto the garbage and then to the roof so quickly and gracefully it seemed one long, continuous movement.
The breeze had sharpened and quickened, and it gave them fresh energy. Dooku flew toward Lorian, putting extra streng
th into his moves, his footwork sure despite the uneven material of the roof.
"You hate me, don't you?" Lorian grunted, parrying a thrust. "Just because I finally asked something of you." "Something it wasn't fair of you to ask."
"That is what friendship is."
"Not my definition."
"Yes, your definition is that someone gives and you take. Someone admires you and you accept that admiration." Lorian was breathing hard now. "Someone you can use."
"You have always resented me," Dooku said. "Now I know how much."
He drove forward. Lorian's words filled with him anger. He knew he was only supposed to touch Lorian to win, but that inability to reach him, to even graze his skin, had built up the frustration to a boiling point. His body felt hot.
Lorian made a half-turn to the left and swung out in a wide arc.
I have him now. He knows he's losing. It was Lorian's trademark move.
Dooku already knew Lorian would spring to his rear. If Lorian hadn't been so tired, he wouldn't have tried it. Instead of moving to the left, Dooku moved back two steps. When Lorian came at him, he was ready. He brought his lightsaber down on Lorian's shoulder, right where his tunic had torn along the seam.
Lorian cried out and stumbled back. He looked at Dooku with disbelief. It had been a true blow, designed to hurt.
"You gravel maggot," he said. He sprang at Dooku.
Now they fought without regard for rules of engagement. They fought hard, using every trick. They used their feet and fists as well as their lightsabers. They kicked at each other and struck out blindly as they moved by. Dooku had never fought like this. In a part of his mind he knew that this style of fighting brought him nothing, that it was sloppy and unfocused and would turn them both into losers, but he couldn't stop.
"Enough."
The word was spoken quietly but it cut through the sound of their battle. They stopped. Yoda had appeared on the roof. They hadn't noticed him. They hadn't noticed that their battle had brought them within sight of the Temple windows, either.
Yoda walked over to Lorian. Dooku saw now that the lightsaber blow had left a deep bruise on Lorian's bare arm. It looked terrible, the center a deep red with a blue-black bruise surrounding it. Lorian had a cut on his cheek and one hand was bleeding.
"To the med clinic go you must, Lorian," Yoda said. "Dooku, to your quarters. Send for you both we will."
Lorian's gaze rested on the ground. He lifted his head. His eyes met Dooku's. In that moment everything formed into a hard knot of certainty in Dooku's heart. They were enemies now.
CHAPTER No. 6
Dooku stood before the Jedi Council. He did not know if Lorian had come before him or would be appearing after. He only knew one thing: It was time to tell the truth. He described how Lorian had wanted them to take the Sith Holocron, and later, how Lorian had asked him to lie for him.
"And were you prepared to lie for him?" Oppo Rancisis asked.
Dooku took a moment before answering. He wanted to lie and say that he had never considered Lorian's request, yet he knew the Jedi Masters could see through him like water. He wasn't as powerful as they were, not yet.
"I was not prepared to lie, no," Dooku said. "I thought about it. Lorian was my friend."
"No longer your friend, is he?" Yoda asked.
This he could answer without getting mired in doubt and hesitation. The truth was clear. "No. He is no longer my friend."
"Clear to us is this as well," Yoda said. "A training lightsaber is not meant to wound, yet wound Lorian you did."
"I did not mean to," Dooku said. "I was angry and my control was not the best. My best friend had betrayed me."
"Lost control you did," Yoda said. "And too old for excuses you are."
Dooku nodded and looked down. He had expected this rebuke, but he had not expected it to sting so badly. He had never disappointed Yoda before.
"Tension between you there was, controlled the anger should have been," Yoda went on. "Used the exercise for feelings you should have let go in other ways you did. Meditation. Discussion."
"Physical exercise," Tor Difusal broke in. "A conference with a Jedi Master. You know the outlets available to you. Yet you chose not to use them."
Dooku saw that he had been tricked. He had no doubt now that he and Lorian had been made team captains deliberately. The Jedi Council had wanted to pit them against each other to see how deep the tensions ran.
"Tricked you were not," Yoda said, as if he'd read Dooku's thoughts. "Given an opportunity you were. Not alone are you, Dooku. To ask for help is no shame."
"I know that." He had been told it enough times.
"Know this you do, but practice it you must," Yoda said sharply. "Conquer your pride, you must. Your flaw, it is."
"I will, Master Yoda." Dooku almost sighed aloud. Would he never get away from lessons?
"Go you may," Yoda said.
"Your decision?"
"You will hear of it," Tor Difusal said.
There was nothing to do but bow and leave. Dooku heard the door slip shut silently behind him. Only a few words had been spoken, but he felt as though he had emerged from a battle.
The Jedi Council did not make them wait long. Dooku received a reprimand for excessive aggression during the exercise. Lorian was expelled from the Jedi Order, not for stealing the Sith Holocron, but for lying and implicating his friend.
Dooku felt relief course through him. He hadn't felt in danger of being expelled, but the affair could have had worse complications. Thame Cerulian could have dropped him as an apprentice. That had been his worst fear.
He took the turbolift up to the landing platform. It had always been one of his favorite places. He and Lorian had sneaked in here as younglings, hiding in a corner and naming all the starships. They'd imagined the day when they'd be the Jedi Knights striding through, hoisting themselves up into their cockpits and zooming off into the atmosphere.
He strolled down the aisle as the mechanic droids buzzed over the ships, doing routine maintenance. Now the time that he would be leaving was approaching. Thame was returning in three days. He could be off on a mission within a week.
He saw ahead that the exit door to the exterior platform was open. Someone must be leaving or arriving. He walked out. The clouds had gone and the night was crystal clear. The stars hung close and glittered so hard and bright it felt as though they could cut pieces in the sky.
He wasn't alone. Lorian stood on the platform, looking out over Coruscant.
"You've heard," he said.
"I'm sorry," Dooku said.
"Are you?" Lorian asked the question softly. "I hear no sorrow in your voice."
"I am sorry," Dooku said, "but you have to admit that you got yourself into this mess."
Lorian turned. His eyes glittered like the stars above, and Dooku realized there were tears in them. "A mess? Is that what you call it? How typical of you. Nothing touches you, Dooku. My life is over. I'm never going to be a Jedi! Can you imagine how that feels?"
"Why do you keep asking me to feel what you feel?" Dooku burst out. "I can't do that. I'm not you!"
"No, you're not me. But I know you better than anyone. I've seen more of what's inside you than anyone." Lorian took a step toward him. "I've seen your heart, and I know how empty it is. I've seen your anger, and I know how deep it is. I've seen your ambition, and I know how ruthless it is. And all of that will ultimately destroy you."
"You don't know what you're talking about," Dooku said. "You wanted me to lie to protect you. Do you think you're better than me?"
"No, that was never what it was about," Lorian said. "It was about friendship."
"That's exactly what it was about! You've always been jealous of me! That's why you wanted to destroy me. Instead," Dooku said, "you've destroyed yourself."
Lorian shook his head. He walked past Dooku, back toward the darkness of the hangar. "I know one thing," he said, his voice trailing behind him, but clear and even. "I will never be a Jed
i, it's true. But neither will you. You will never, never be a great Jedi Master."
Lorian and his words were swallowed up by the darkness. Dooku's cheeks burned despite the coolness of the air. Words crowded in his throat, threatening to break free. Then he decided he would let Lorian have the last word. Why not? He had the career. Lorian had nothing.
Lorian had been wrong. Dooku's heart hadn't been empty. He had loved his friend.
But he had changed. Lorian had betrayed him. He would never believe in friendship again. If his heart was now empty of love, so be it. The Jedi did not believe in attachments. He would fill his heart with nobility and passion and commitment. He would become a great Jedi Master.
Dooku looked up at a sky that glittered with stars and hummed with planets. So much to see, so much to do. So many beings to fight and to fight for. And yet he would take away from his time at the Temple one lesson, the most important one of all: In the midst of a galaxy crowded with life-forms, he was alone.
Dooku was blindfolded and playing with a seeker when he felt a presence enter the room. He knew it was Yoda. He could feel the way the Force gathered in the room. He continued to play with the seeker, swinging his lightsaber so the wind batted it gently, teasing it. He circled, listening and moving, knowing he could slice the seeker in two whenever he wanted.
Yoda had not spoken to him since Lorian had left the Temple. Dooku passed the time waiting for Thame to return, performing classic Jedi training exercises, wanting to impress the Council with his commitment.
"Of your ability, sure you are," Yoda said mildly. "Yet between sureness and pride, a small step it is."
Dooku stopped for a moment. He had wanted to impress Yoda, not provoke a rebuke. The seeker buzzed around his head like an angry insect.
"Fitting it is that blindfolded you are," Yoda continued. "Pride it is that blinds you. Your flaw, pride is. Great are your gifts, Dooku. Mindful of the talents you do not possess as well as the ones you do you must be."
Dooku heard only the slightest whisper of the fabric of Yoda's robe as the Jedi Master retreated. The Force drained from the room.