When the Sun Sets

Chapter 3 - Invisible Hand

Aniya Skywalker

"Chancellor, are you alright?" I ask, crossing the room. I wish my brothers were here, because... I know this will be a dangerous mission, and I just wish I wasn't alone. That's all.

"Count Dooku," he replies in a low voice, looking past me.

Of course. I should have guessed – the Sith was waiting here for me. What does he want with us, anyway? I force back my stab of anger, turning around to face him.

"Get help. You're no match for him. He's a Sith Lord," the Chancellor warns.

"Obi-Wan went to find Anakin. They'll be on their way. Until then, I'll do what I can," I answer smoothly. I'm not afraid, even if I should be. Only angry. I felt Anakin's pain earlier, and I will never forget what this Sith has done both to us and to the galaxy. I can't forgive him, either, even if I know I shouldn't be like that. I can't help it.

I can't forgive people when they hurt Anakin. Not my brother. Not my twin.

I'll never forget how I once trusted Dooku, and the shock and horror of everything after Geonosis. How I tried to help Anakin get through the worst of learning to have a mechanical hand. I could feel his pain so clearly through our bond, then, and I know very personally what it's like to lose a limb now. I will never forgive Dooku for what he's done to him.

I flick my wrist, deactivating the stuncuffs on Palpatine's wrists before reaching for my lightsaber.

The Count stops at the balcony railing above, and dramatically flips over, landing on the floor only meters away from me.

"Your sword, please," Dooku requests lightly, "We don't want to make a mess of things in front of the Chancellor."

Eyes narrowing, I ignite my lightsaber. "You're not escaping this time, Dooku."

The sight of him, with his ruby blade humming in hand, sends a sharp stab of... something through me. I don't know what and it doesn't matter. I move towards him swiftly, slashing. I've learned a lot since we fought on Naboo a year ago. I'm prepared for this. Anakin and I have trained ceaselessly.

More than that, I have to do this. We were made to. There is no way out. If I can't take down Dooku, I definitely won't be able to handle Plagueis – he's far more dangerous.

Our blades clash in rapid succession. With me throwing my all into it, refusing to give him breathing room. Letting him retreat or giving him room will be only more dangerous, even if I'm rapidly tiring myself out.

Dooku shoves me back a few steps, and I rebalance myself, readjusting my grip in my lightsaber. I just need to buy time. I don't have to win this right now, not quite yet, even if I want to. I want to hurt him, but I won't, because that's not the Jedi way. That's not what Qui-Gon taught me, and like Anakin said, it's not who I am.

"I sense great fear in you, young Skywalker," he says – he's goading me now. "You have anger. You have hatred. But you don't use them."

I slash at him again, trying to tune him out, but it's hard. His moves are smooth and precise, and I can't clearly tell if he's struggling or not, but he's backing up under the force of my blows. That's progress, at the very least, and I can let myself be reassured by that much.

I don't let up on the force of my attacks, forcing him backwards towards the staircase, except there are droids on the overhang above. I was distracted enough with Dooku that I didn't quite notice them and jump aside with the galaxy's most ungraceful yelp when one of them starts firing at me.

I deflect a series of blaster shots back at the droids, but they're a little too sturdy to be taken out, so I throw them over the railing with the Force before returning my attention to Dooku, who's about to take my head off. So much for wanting me to join him so badly.