Dark Disciple

by Christie Golden

  Ventress clenched her fists, clearly struggling not to leap at Windu. Equally clear to Obi-Wan was the fact that the Jedi Master might have welcomed the excuse to attack her. Ventress’s breath came in quick, angry gasps as she spoke.

  “I will remind you all that it was you who assigned him this mission. It was you who led him to me. Everyone in this room knew who and what I was from the beginning, Windu. Don’t fool yourself—the blame isn’t mine alone to bear.”

  It was a brutal truth, but truth it was nonetheless, and the Council knew it. An uncomfortable silence fell.

  “Care for him still, do you?” asked Yoda gently.

  Ventress looked as though she sensed a trap, but knew better than to lie to so many Jedi Masters. She didn’t look at anyone as she spoke. “Yes.”

  “Enough to become Sith again yourself?” Kenobi asked the obvious question before Windu could.

  Ventress took a long time in replying. Finally, she lifted her head and looked at Yoda. “No.”

  Yoda nodded. “Further questions, has the Council?” No one spoke. “Jedi Knights Desh and Skywalker, outside with Ventress you will wait. Speak with the Council alone, I must.”

  Ventress looked wary, but she accompanied Desh and Anakin outside into the corridor. When the doors closed, Yoda looked around at the Council.

  “Cooperative, has she been.”

  “As much as someone like her can be, yes,” Kenobi agreed.

  “Truth has she spoken, within this chamber. Loves Vos still, she does, and lead us to him, she will.”

  “And when we find him? What then?” Ki-Adi-Mundi asked. “We have seen what ‘Admiral Enigma’ has done already. If we do not successfully capture him and he escapes, then we have turned another Sith Lord out into the galaxy.”

  “If we can take him, we can turn him back,” Kenobi said.

  “You cannot save everyone, Master Kenobi,” Plo Koon said, not without sympathy.

  Yoda nodded. “Save themselves, they must.”

  “I understand that, Master Yoda,” Kenobi said. “But if given permission to mount a recovery, I will take responsibility for Vos myself. I was his supervisor for the original mission. I alone will see it through.”

  “Even if we do manage to capture him successfully, how do we know we can trust him? He was introduced to the dark side by that woman, and is now Dooku’s pet,” Mace pointed out. “Those roots go deep.”

  “With respect, Master Windu, I believe that Ventress was right. We bear more than a little accountability for what has happened to Vos. He was raised in the Temple, so there is no excuse for him not being properly prepared to face this sort of challenge.”

  “To which ‘challenge’ do you refer, Master Kenobi,” Mace inquired caustically, “Dooku or Ventress?”

  “Both,” Kenobi said. “Ventress is at fault, yes, and of course Dooku. But this, Masters…this one is our responsibility. We owe Vos the chance to choose again, and, with our help, wisely.”

  “Then I believe that Ventress should not be part of the rescue mission,” Mace asserted.

  Yoda shook his head, looking pensive. “Key to this, she is,” he said. “Need her, we will. Master Kenobi—permission you have, to recover Quinlan Vos. But not alone will you be. Jedi Skywalker and Ventress both, you will take.”

  “I do not understand, Master Yoda,” Windu said, his voice betraying his exasperation. “I yield to your wisdom. But I think we all must be aware of the disaster we are courting if we’re wrong.”

  “Believe me,” Kenobi said, “I am more than aware.”

  A small light built into the curve of Yoda’s chair began to flash. “A message, we have,” Yoda murmured, and pressed the button.

  A holographic image of Admiral Wulf Yularen appeared in the middle of the room. “Master Yoda,” he said in his clipped, elegant voice, “we have received new intel on Count Dooku and his Admiral Enigma.”

  “Bring in Ventress!” Yoda snapped. Kenobi ushered Ventress, Anakin, and Desh into the chamber. Ventress started to object and jerk her arm away, but Kenobi hushed her with a gesture.

  “Proceed, Admiral,” Yoda said.

  “We have a sighting that places Enigma on a Providence-class dreadnought,” Yularen continued. “We’re currently investigating rumors that this ship is about to attack Taris.”

  “Ventress,” said Kenobi, turning to her and smiling mildly, “are you up for a trip?”

  Ventress looked from Admiral Yularen, to Yoda, and then back to Kenobi. “You’ve got to be joking.”

  “You know as well as I do that there is still hope for him.”

  “I don’t know that,” she said bluntly. Kenobi was surprised. Mace Windu frowned, leaning forward. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see his face. You don’t know how hard it is to come back from—”

  “You did it,” Kenobi interrupted quietly.

  Ventress paused in midsentence, her eyes looking piercingly into his. He could sense how stunned she was by his recognition of what she had done. Some of the heat had gone from her voice as she replied, “Just barely.”

  “But still,” Kenobi pressed, “you understand what it takes. There may be a chance for him yet, but we have to stop him before he goes any farther down that path, or it might indeed be too late.”

  Ventress glanced around at the Masters regarding her, her gaze lingering upon each one. Her chin lifted slightly at Windu’s open disapproval.

  “I’ll do it, but how do I know you won’t arrest me upon our return?”

  “Well,” Kenobi hedged.

  “A pardon, the Council will offer.” Everyone turned to look at the diminutive Master. He was smiling gently, his eyes kind. “A clean slate, Asajj Ventress shall have, if help us, she will.”

  Anakin shifted his weight. “That’s…quite the deal, Master Yoda,” he said.

  “A Jedi Master recovered, and to the light returned? Little enough, it is, for so great a deed.”

  Ventress looked as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and if the truth were to be told, Kenobi could scarcely believe it himself. But he found that he agreed.

  “Accept, do you?” Yoda asked.

  Ventress nodded. “I do. But you’re going to have to trust me.”

  —

  Anakin, of course, didn’t trust Ventress as far as he could Force-throw her. Kenobi did—to an extent. He trusted Ventress to not do something that would get them all killed, and…he trusted what he believed she felt for Vos. It remained to be seen, of course, if Vos returned her sentiments, and if so, that would have to be dealt with. But all that could wait until they had brought the Jedi Master safely back home.

  Anakin fidgeted. Kenobi could hardly blame him. It was not a place he had ever dreamed he’d willingly be, yet here they both were in the Banshee’s cockpit.

  “And you’re certain the ship’s cloaking device is active?” Anakin asked uneasily. “I don’t want to be hurtling out of hyperspace unprotected into the path of a dozen Separatist cruisers…”

  Ventress smiled a little. “I’m as sure as I’m going to be. Have a little faith, Skywalker.”

  “Faith? In you?”

  “I’m the only chance you’ve got right now, so yes, you’d better have faith. Here goes nothing. Fingers crossed, boys.” She pressed the button with a long forefinger, and they dropped out of hyperspace into the very center of a crowded flow of dozens of Separatist vessels, everything from starfighters to frigates to Dooku’s looming flagship.

  “Oh, boy,” muttered Anakin.

  “It isn’t…too bad,” Kenobi said, sounding unconvincing even in his own ears. He and Anakin exchanged tense glances.

  Ventress stretched, catlike, in the chair. “And nobody seems to notice us. How about that?”

  While Anakin scowled at Ventress, whose smirk only grew, Kenobi put in, “Well, it would be nice if we actually had a plan.”

  Ventress’s stony look returned, and she ceased toying with Anakin. “I believe the plan was to get Vos off that ship.�
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  She pointed at the enormous Providence-class dreadnought that was leading the fleet. Ventress slowed and allowed the Banshee to drop back, carefully maneuvering out of the path of any of the other ships—which were, thankfully, clearly unaware of their presence. Obi-Wan could see the ship’s hangar. The doors were open, but of course there would be a particle shield erected to prevent anyone or anything from entering or departing without permission.

  “And exactly how do you intend to do that?” Anakin asked.

  “I worked with the Separatists once, remember? They have a finite number of channels and codes that vary depending on the sector and the name of the operation’s flagship. Given that, I think it should be…” She touched the controls.

  “—permission to depart” came a voice.

  Obi-Wan and Anakin exchanged glances. The elder Jedi was impressed

  “Code?”

  “AYF-47562.”

  “Permission granted,” said the voice. And while the fighter eased out to join its fellows, Ventress brought the cloaked Banshee smoothly inside. She landed it gently, any noise it might have made covered by the sound of the fighter’s departure. There was a slight shimmering around the entrance to the hangar as the force field was reactivated. The lights inside the hangar dimmed, indicating that attention was no longer on the area. Ventress did a quick scan for droids or life-forms.

  “We’re clear,” she said, and lowered the ramp.

  “Okay,” Anakin said grudgingly, “that was…um…not too shabby. Now we just have to figure out where Vos would be.”

  “Well,” Kenobi said, lifting a hand and casually using the Force to short out the security cams, “since he is apparently an admiral, he’s bound to be on the bridge.”

  “What about Dooku?” asked Ventress.

  Anakin’s face hardened. “I’ll take care of him. Looks like we might get two for one today—Dooku’s death and Vos’s return.”

  “May the Force be with us,” Kenobi murmured, and they began the hunt.

  Ventress wished they could simply charge through the ship, destroying anything and anyone that got in their way. But while she was passionate, she was also practical. Stealth had gotten them into the ship; stealth would have to get them to the bridge.

  Only once before had she worked in a similar manner with so many fellow Force users: when she, Karis, and Naa’leth had attempted to kill Dooku. She had to admit that both Skywalker and Kenobi were stronger in the Force than her sisters had been. Together they were extremely powerful. It was a pity that the three of them and Vos could not team up against Dooku. The sleemo wouldn’t stand a chance.

  Vos. Ventress felt again the stab of doubt. It had been impossible to entirely escape the images of his face on the HoloNet. And she’d seen the telltale yellow of his eyes in Dooku’s prison. But there had been that moment—when she had fully owned her lies and laid herself open to his judgment—when Vos had hesitated, and Ventress had seen the true Vos still inside. He had understood how hard it had been for her, if only fleetingly. Was it really possible that she could reach him again? Or had Dooku so dominated him that there was nothing left of the man she…

  Well. If he was lost, she would do what was necessary without a second thought. It would be what the real Vos, the Jedi, would want her to do. Ventress recalled the difficulty with which Vos had finally reconciled himself to killing a simple, nonsentient creature. That man would be horrified to be used by Dooku to kill thousands of innocent beings.

  With what felt like agonizing slowness, they made their way through the ship, hiding from wandering patrols of droids, and shorting out any security cams before they could be detected.

  They paused at the end of the hallway. “There’s a corridor directly below us,” Ventress said. “We go down that and the set of doors at the end opens onto the bridge.”

  “You’re sure?” asked Kenobi.

  “I’ve spent a great deal of time on this ship,” Ventress said. “The bridge is three levels. The captain’s chair is on the first level, facing forward. There will be eight computer stations, each operated by a droid. Possibly, there will be other droids on the bridge.”

  “So, ten, maybe twelve,” Anakin said. “No problem.”

  “Where will Vos be?”

  “In the captain’s chair,” Ventress said grimly. “We can take either the ladder”—she pointed to a narrow set of rungs to one side—“or the lift. The ladder’s safer. We’ll be able to spot any droids in the corridor before we come across them. If we take the lift, we can’t control what it would open up on.”

  “Agreed,” said Kenobi. “I’ll go first. Anakin, you bring up the rear.” Ventress stifled her irritation. Even now, they didn’t trust her.

  Kenobi climbed quickly and quietly down the ladder, pausing to listen and extend his senses with the Force before dropping down. Ventress and Anakin followed.

  Ventress pointed to the far end of the corridor. “Those are the doors to the bridge. They’re motion-sensitive, so they’ll open automatically. We’ll—”

  There was a soft ding behind them and the lift doors opened. They whirled. A single, very puzzled-looking battle droid peered at them, then summoned the presence of mind to yelp into its comlink, “Intruder alert!”

  “Not so fast!” Obi-Wan punched the droid in the face and it staggered back. Kenobi closed the door on it, ignited his lightsaber, and melted the controls. “Let’s go!” The three of them raced down the hall and flung themselves through the door onto the bridge.

  The figure in the captain’s chair had risen. His lightsaber was in his hand but not yet activated. His brows were drawn together in a thunderous scowl as he shouted, his voice dripping loathing, “Jedi!”

  “Dooku!” exclaimed Kenobi, surprised. “You weren’t the fellow we were looking for, but since you’re here—”

  Skywalker, however, wasted no time in banter. He leapt at once for Dooku. Blue and red lightsabers clashed and sizzled. The droids had begun firing, and Kenobi batted the bolts back with practiced ease, doing his best to angle the shots so they returned to the droid that fired them.

  Ventress paid neither Dooku nor the battle droids any heed. She vaulted down to the third, lowest level. Still crouching, she thrust out both hands, Force-grabbed a droid in each one, flung them behind her. Both droids hurtled toward the lightsaber combatants. Dooku glanced up and sprang down to the second level. Anakin followed him.

  Two droids approached Kenobi, firing at him simultaneously. The Jedi Master leapt upward, clinging briefly to the ceiling as the droids realized, too late, that they were now firing at each other.

  “He’s not here!” Ventress shouted over her shoulder to Obi-Wan. She sliced the head off of one battle droid, Force-threw another against the bulkhead. Six remained.

  “Get back up here and cover me!” Kenobi shouted, fighting his way over to one of the consoles on the first level. Ventress leapt across the bridge and positioned herself between Kenobi, who was checking the ship’s computer in an attempt to locate Vos, and the droids who were firing on him. She spared a glance for Dooku, one level down. The fight between him and Anakin was close and constantly shifting. Ventress felt a brief flash of amusement as she realized that for the first time, she was actually rooting for Skywalker.

  Dooku made claws of his hands, and Force lightning crackled in the space between him and Anakin. Skywalker got his lightsaber up and held his own, slitting his eyes against the blue glare and flying sparks. Still sending Force lightning with one hand, Dooku reached out with the other. A dismembered droid torso shot up in the air, hovered there, and then Dooku flung it at Anakin. The Jedi leapt down to the third level, and the count followed him.

  With their master otherwise occupied on the other side of the bridge, the remaining droids opened fire freely. Dozens of bolts streaked toward Ventress and Kenobi. Calmly, Ventress batted back some with her lightsaber; the others she simply redirected using the Force. Three more droids fell, twitching and sparking.


  “I’ve got him!” Kenobi shouted to be heard over the noise of combat. “Ventress, he’s not on the bridge because he’s in the brig! He’s still a captive! Do you realize what this means? There is no ‘Admiral Enigma.’ Dooku’s been using Vos as a tool to lower Jedi morale!”

  Ventress was flooded by joy so intense that she almost couldn’t breathe. Renewed energy filled her and she reached out, grabbed a protesting droid in the Force, and smashed him down.

  “You two go on!” called Anakin. He dodged a strike from Dooku’s red lightsaber that whizzed past the top of his head and brought his own blade up for a counterstrike. “I’ll take care of him!”

  “Insolent whelp,” snapped Dooku, parrying Skywalker’s strike.

  Together Ventress and Kenobi cut down the remaining droids. Debris toppled everywhere, legs and arms, heads and parts of torsos. When they reached the door and raced through it, Ventress took a moment to pierce the controls with her lightsaber.

  “Anakin’s still in there,” Kenobi said.

  “So is Dooku,” she retorted. “And this way, he can’t summon droids to improve his odds.”

  “Excellent point,” Kenobi conceded. “The brig is—”

  “On the level below us,” Ventress said. “Come on!”

  —

  Vos hung, naked to the waist, from glowing shackles. His back was toward Kenobi, and Obi-Wan felt a pang of empathetic pain at the sight. Dooku, it seemed, had decided to forgo more elaborate methods of torture in favor of the basic ones. Vos’s broad back was a ribbon of older scars and newer welts; some were scabbed over, and not a few were still bleeding. His once-muscular but sleek frame was emaciated and pale, as if he had not seen the sunlight in months. He appeared to be unconscious.

  “Vos!” Kenobi rushed forward. He cradled Vos’s brutalized body in one arm while he slashed with his lightsaber at the shackles. Vos cried out sharply as his arms shifted from the position they had been forced to maintain for who knew how long. Obi-Wan eased him to the floor.

  “Obi-Wan? Is it really you?” Vos’s voice was ragged.