by Lou Anders
Alas, it was not to be.
For his master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, snuck aboard my frigate. I was not alerted of any approaching ship, so presumably Kenobi utilized an enviro-suit to spacewalk and thus enter undetected. Once aboard, he freed Skywalker, and the two sought me out.
I was meditating on the nature of the dark side in my private chamber when they accosted me. The two of them were as overconfident as ever, strutting like a pair of preening tip-yips. I did not give them the satisfaction of a reply or even standing up, so little I thought of their foolish pomposity. Also, as you will see, I had another reason for keeping my seat.
“Surprise, surprise,” said Skywalker in his ever-annoying manner.
“If it isn’t Count Dooku,” Kenobi chimed in.
The Jedi thought they had the upper hand, but I had the situation well in control. And I refused to let their puerile attempts at humor nettle me.
“I thought I sensed an unpleasant disturbance in the Force,” I replied calmly. Then, addressing Kenobi, I added, “I see you’ve freed young Skywalker. Where might he be if you weren’t always around to rescue him?”
I would have enjoyed the burn this brought to the young Jedi’s cheeks, but at that moment, I was jolted severely. The Jedi felt it, too. Only one thing could account for a ship this size rocking.
“Sir,” a battle droid announced over the intercom, “there’s a Jedi cruiser attacking.”
“Your ship is surrounded, Count,” Skywalker said with an infuriating smirk. “Republic troops are boarding as we speak.”
They flourished their lightsabers in a show of bravado. (I realized that Kenobi must have supplied the boy with a replacement.)
“Jedi fools,” I pronounced them both. And so they were if they thought they truly had me at a disadvantage. For as you have taught me, a Sith is prepared for any contingency, and certainly for the possibility of hasty retreat. My prior reluctance to stand was because I had been sitting upon a hatch in the floor. It fell away beneath me at my command. I dropped into an escape tube and began a rapid slide. The tunnel would take me straight to the hangar where my private Punworcca interstellar sloop awaited.
Not surprisingly, Skywalker was soon in pursuit. This was a bother, but not an unexpected one given his character.
I sent a burst of Force lightning at him. Naturally, he blocked it with his lightsaber. But striking him was not the point. I had no illusions that I might take him out so easily. He had been trained by the Padawan of my own Padawan Qui-Gon Jinn, after all. He would thus have some portion of my own considerable skill and knowledge, albeit diluted and incomplete. But blinded by the crackling bluish energy of my lightning, he did not see which path I chose when the escape tube forked in two.
As intended, my deception bought me valuable moments. I reached the docking bay well ahead of Skywalker.
“Your ship is ready, sir,” the nearest battle droid informed me.
“Good.”
As I slipped into the cockpit of my solar sailer, my FA-4 pilot droid guided the sailer out of the hangar. Through the viewport, I saw Kenobi racing beside my ship, but he was powerless to stop me as I passed into the cold vacuum of space. However, the Jedi are not so easily discouraged when on the hunt. Kenobi and Skywalker quickly overpowered my droids, whereupon they stole one of my transport shuttles and gave pursuit.
My escort of Vulture-class starfighters engaged them with a flurry of blaster-cannon fire, but the Jedi managed to take evasive action. They dogged our attackers and clung tightly to my tail.
My ship rocked, nearly knocking me from my seat.
The Jedi had scored a direct hit! My engines were burning! To my considerable chagrin, I saw that they were done for. I had to make an emergency landing. Fortunately, it was not far to the nearest planet. I gazed at an unfamiliar world of swirling blue-gray clouds.
Then I was plummeting through the atmosphere, trailing fire and smoke. My pilot droid was useless. If I trusted its merely mechanical instincts, I would be as dead as my vessel. Shoving it aside, I took the controls myself. The clouds parted, and I crash-landed in a barren wilderness. I daresay a lesser pilot might not have survived. I, of course, was unhurt.
Extricating myself from the remains of my craft, I surveyed the damage. The engine was all but destroyed. I placed a homing beacon so that my troops could find me and set out to take stock of my surroundings.
The terrain was rocky, the sky overcast. The ground was marked by smoky crystalline formations. Silica dust crunched underfoot, but the wind caught it up and drove it into the air. I could see how a storm there would be most unpleasant.
I soon found a cave. The walls were coated in bioluminescent organisms that glowed in the dark, affording some small degree of dim light. However, I sensed many other life-forms inside, at least one of them quite large. Consequently, this was not a wise place in which to seek shelter. But perhaps it could be put to other uses. The Jedi would doubtless be along soon. And I would be ready for them. I began to formulate a trap.
Sure enough, my pursuers arrived and began their own exploration of the cave. They sensed the life-forms, as I anticipated they would. But there must be bait for a trap. Reaching out with my mind, I stirred the Force, just enough to ensure that the Jedi caught a hint of my presence. Then I withdrew so that they could not pinpoint my exact location. Good. They would seek me out. Indeed, the fools walked right past my hiding spot, unaware that their doom lurked behind them. Then I stretched out my senses. I had already loosened several layers of rock in the roof above. Now I used my powers to tear them free.
Before Skywalker or Kenobi could react, I brought the ceiling crashing down, crushing the Jedi beneath a pile of enormous boulders. It was thrilling to be so easily rid of such persistent thorns in my side.
When the dust cleared, I saw the hilt of Skywalker’s lightsaber poking out from under a rock. I drew it to me using the Force.
“You won’t be needing this anymore, Skywalker,” I said, pleased with my triumph. I admit that I even spun the weapon in a confident flourish before attaching it to my belt.
Exiting the cave, I stretched out my mind once again. Drawing upon the power of my anger and hatred of the hypocritical Jedi and their corrupt Republic, I collapsed the cave entrance. Had Skywalker and Kenobi somehow survived the rockfall, they would be trapped in the caverns with the large creature that dwelled there. In a weakened state and with only one lightsaber between them, the Jedi would not last long.
Leaving them in what I had every reason to suppose was their tomb, I went to see about getting off planet as quickly as possible.
What I found was a Corona-class armed frigate beside my own wrecked solar sailer. Tough, leathery-skinned individuals were picking over my ship like a swarm of insects. I realized they were salvaging my vessel for parts. They were Weequay, natives of the desert world Sriluur. I watched the rabble squabble among themselves, set off by nothing more than the antics of a Kowakian monkey-lizard.
The leader of the pirates spotted me.
“Well, well,” he said, “what do we have here?”
I preferred to meet his question with another question.
“Who are you?” I replied.
“More importantly, my friend,” he answered, “who are you?”
I did not tell him my name. He did not need to know that I was the count of Serenno and the head of state of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. Fortunately, he liked to hear himself talk more than he enjoyed listening to others, and I soon learned that this Weequay was named Hondo Ohnaka. Speaking with a musical lilt that others might find charming, he told me that he ran the group of reprobates known as the Ohnaka Gang. And he was very proud of both his gang and himself. I sensed that this Ohnaka was an opportunist, but his obvious greed presented the opportunity for me to manipulate him.
“Your solar sailer is very beautiful,” Ohnaka said. “It’s a pretty rare ship, very expensive. What are you doing all the way out here?”
There was, of cour
se, an implied threat in his question. He wanted to know if I was alone, and he was sounding me out to see if I would object to his salvaging my vessel. While we talked, that irritating Kowakian monkey-lizard jumped from the pirate’s shoulder to my own. I wanted to crush the life out of it, but I resisted the urge to do so or, indeed, to betray any sign of my growing irritation with the Weequay. A Sith is nothing if not patient, striking only at the most opportune moments. Thus, I kept my tone calm and friendly.
“I sustained some damage in an asteroid storm and had to make a landing,” I lied. “Feel free to help yourself to it,” I added, speaking as nonchalantly as I could.
This seemed to satisfy Ohnaka. I had judged his shortsighted greed correctly.
“If you need transport,” he said, “the nearest planet is Florrum. It’s six parsecs away.”
Florrum. I had not heard of it. “Is it civilized?” I asked.
“That depends on your definition of civilized,” Ohnaka replied jovially. “But you would certainly be more comfortable there than here. Vanqor is no place to be after dark.”
So this was the planet Vanqor. That meant the large creature I sensed in the cave was a gundark. Most excellent. Gundarks are fearsome predators. It would either feast upon the Jedi’s remains or slay them quickly if they survived the rockfall. There was no reason for me to remain there any longer.
“Perhaps I shall take you up on your offer,” I said.
“Very good,” said Ohnaka. He gave a slight sniff. “Now all that’s left to do is settle my fee.”
“Fee?” I asked, astonished.
“Just a little something to cover my expenses,” the Weequay answered. He looked over my attire. “It shouldn’t be a problem for someone so obviously wealthy as yourself.”
I maintained a cool demeanor as I answered. After all, it was easy to make promises. When I was back with my droid army, nothing would require me to keep them.
“I’d be happy to compensate you for your services,” I said.
Ohnaka smiled.
“That’s it, boys!” he called to his gang. “We are heading home.”
In no time, they had secured the last of what they had pillaged from my ship, so I joined them in boarding the frigate. It goes without saying that I remained alert. This Hondo Ohnaka was clearly a scoundrel. Oh, he was a gracious enough host on our trip, regaling me with exaggerated stories of his exploits around the galaxy. I soon realized that I was in the presence of an individual whose self-importance rivaled even that of the Jedi Council. But I feigned interest and kept my wits about me. He was obviously trying to lower my suspicions with his jovial anecdotes, but his efforts had the opposite effect.
Eventually, we arrived on Florrum, which is located in the Sertar sector of the Outer Rim Territories. I accompanied Ohnaka and several of his gang on a Flarestar-class attack shuttle, which conveyed us to the planet’s surface.
“Welcome to Florrum,” said Ohnaka as we exited the boarding ramp. However, it was not much of a welcome. The world proved to be a sulfurous desert planet with very little to recommend it. And much not to. But as I set foot upon the parched ground, I was met by a group of Weequay who raised their blaster rifles and directed them at me.
I had been expecting something like this. But when I reached for my weapon, I discovered that both my own lightsaber and the one I had taken from Skywalker had vanished from my belt.
“Lose your flashy sword?” Ohnaka called from behind me. “Are these what you were looking for, Jedi?”
I turned and saw that he held up both lightsabers. I must admit, I was impressed despite myself. It would take no small skill to relieve me of weapons without my feeling or sensing the theft. And I had been on my guard. This Ohnaka was truly a skilled pickpocket. I was impressed, yes, but not in the mood for forgiveness.
“I am more powerful than any Jedi,” I warned him. “Know that you are dealing with a Sith Lord.”
Remarkably, Ohnaka was undeterred by my threat.
“You’re still outnumbered,” he said.
I glanced around me. He was right. I was surrounded by a score or more Weequay, all with blaster rifles trained my way. Being outnumbered was not a problem, but being outnumbered and unarmed was. I was faced with the same decision that young Skywalker had so recently confronted, and I made a similar choice.
“The leader of the clanker army and a Sith Lord, no less,” said Ohnaka. So he had guessed my identity. I wondered when he had figured it out. “Someone is sure to pay a pretty price for you.”
If money was all he was after, I knew how to deal with him. “Provide me with the proper means of communications,” I said. “I will arrange for any ransom to be paid.”
But Ohnaka was not convinced.
“And you will arrange for your armies to crush us, as well,” he replied. “You don’t survive in the Outer Rim by being stupid. If the Separatists will pay to get you back, chances are the Republic will offer even more.”
Scowling, I allowed myself to be led inside his fortress. We passed through a main room, where loud and annoying music played in the dim light. There was much dancing and drinking. I filed this away for future use. The sounds would provide more than adequate cover for an escape attempt, and the drink would dull my captors’ senses.
I was taken to a more private chamber, where Ohnaka wasted no time in contacting the Republic. In fact, as you well know, he made his demands of the Supreme Chancellor himself. A most impressive million credits. “The payment will be in spice delivered in an unarmed diplomatic ship,” he stipulated.
I was just to the side of the holoprojector. I listened to the debate going on in the Office of the Supreme Chancellor, humiliated when Ohnaka displayed my uniquely designed, curved-hilt lightsaber as proof of my capture, but even more irritated when Padmé Amidala chimed in: “We may never have a better chance to capture Count Dooku.” As if that naive upstart had anything to do with my present predicament!
I admit, my master, that I was puzzled by the demand that two Jedi be sent to meet with Ohnaka, as the presence of Jedi would doubtless hinder any of my attempts at escape. It did not bother Ohnaka, however. “They will be safe. We have no interest in getting involved in your war.”
I was taken to a cell and placed in a containment field. There I waited for the arrival of the Jedi. I wondered who they would send. I recalled my time on the Jedi Council, before the corruption of the Republic led me back to my homeworld Serenno. Going over likely candidates, I reviewed the abilities of each and considered ways to defeat them. But when the Jedi arrived, I was surprised to see who they were—Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi!
Against the odds, they had managed to defeat the gundark on Vanqor, then dug themselves out of the collapsed caverns. And they had returned to plague me again. It was a struggle to keep my face a mask of calm in light of my frustration.
“Look how the mighty Sith Lord has fallen,” crowed Kenobi. The insult was juvenile, yet it stung. I had once beheld Kenobi in similar circumstances at my tower on Geonosis, where he was my prisoner. Now he believed our situations had reversed.
“This place suits you, Count,” added his fool companion.
“It wasn’t so long ago that you yourself were in similar surroundings on my ship,” I reminded him.
“Yeah, but now I’m free, and you’re not,” the boy replied.
I would not give him the satisfaction of showing offense. Indeed, I delighted in keeping my head around the young Skywalker. Instead, I said, “I’m confident the situation will rectify itself soon.”
“Soon,” chimed in Kenobi, “you’ll be brought to trial by the Senate and most likely spend a very long time in a cell just like this one.”
“And that’s if you’re lucky,” added Skywalker.
Enough. I could not take any more of their ignorant self-assurance. Could they not see the danger they themselves were in?
“My naive young Jedi,” I said, “you must be overly optimistic if you think these Weequay plan to l
et you leave this planet.”
“They’re planet-hopping thieves looking for a quick score,” said Kenobi. “They have no interest in picking a fight with Jedi.”
“They are devious and deceitful and, most importantly, stupid,” I corrected him.
“It’s a wonder you don’t get along with them, Dooku,” sneered Kenobi. “You have so much in common.”
“You underestimate them at your own peril, Kenobi,” I warned him as they left. The Jedi fools only wanted to score points in verbal banter, ignoring the wisdom of my words. Their own soft nature blinded them to the deceit around them. It would be their undoing.
I was soon proved correct. For it was only a few hours later that the unconscious Skywalker and Kenobi were dragged into my cell. I gave a satisfied laugh when they were dumped unceremoniously on the floor. But if I felt gratified at their predicament, the feeling was quashed when the Jedi’s bonds were attached to my own wrists. As the pair did not seem as though they would awaken for several more hours, I attempted to free myself from them, but I was unsuccessful.
Eventually, Skywalker stirred.
“Master, what happened?” he said groggily.
“I guess that pirate brew is stronger than we thought,” answered Kenobi. Neither of them had yet spotted me. I waited before alerting them to my presence, savoring their confusion and discomfort.
“I only took a sip,” the young Jedi protested.
“We were drugged, obviously,” said Kenobi.
“Why would they risk losing the ransom?” Skywalker asked.
“The deal appears to have changed. They must be trying to triple their payday.”
“A shrewd observation, Master Kenobi.”
I took a small joy in their surprise at being with me in my cell.
“Oh, great. It’s you,” groaned Skywalker.
“I did warn you these pirates were devious,” I replied. “You will notice our shackles are bound together. I have tried to separate us to no avail.”
“It’s bad enough we have to be in the same cell,” snapped Skywalker, “but could you at least spare me the sound of your constant chatter?”
