Book 0 - The Dark Lord Trilogy Read online

  Yoda was unreadable.

  Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if Yoda was pondering the image of Sidious, or the fact that two Jedi had been killed during the fighting on Cato Neimoidia. Every day saw more Jedi die. Many were as shot up as the clone troopers. Wounded, blinded, scarred, deprived of arms or legs … patched up by bota and bacta. More than a thousand Padawans had lost their Masters; more than a thousand Masters, their Padawans. When Jedi gathered now they talked not about the Force, but about their military campaigns. New lightsabers were constructed not as a meditative exercise, but to handle the rigors of close combat.

  Reaching the end of the long corridor, Obi-Wan and Yoda turned and started back. Without taking his eyes from the floor, Yoda said: “Found something important, you have, Obi-Wan. That Count Dooku is in league with someone, proof this is. That in this war a greater part the Sith play than we realize.”

  The name Sidious had come up only once since the war began—on Geonosis, when Dooku had told an imprisoned Obi-Wan that a Sith Lord by that name had hundreds of Republic Senators under his influence. At the time, Obi-Wan assumed that Dooku was lying, in order to persuade Obi-Wan that he was still aligned with the Jedi, although attempting to thwart the powers of the dark side by his own methods. And yet, even after Dooku had revealed himself to be Sith-trained, Yoda and others on the Council continued to believe that he had been lying about Sidious. Two Council members were convinced that Dooku was the Dark Lord, having somehow tutored himself—by Sith Holocron, perhaps—in the use of dark side powers.

  Now that Sidious appeared to be real, Obi-Wan didn’t know what to think.

  A hunt for Dooku’s Sith allies had been going on almost since the start of the war. Dooku was known to have trained Jedi in the dark arts—Jedi Knights who had lost faith in the ideals of the Republic, Padawans fascinated by the power of the dark side, misinformed novices such as Asajj Ventress, who had been mentored by a Jedi—but the question remained, who, if anyone, had been Dooku’s teacher?

  Thirteen years earlier, when Obi-Wan had fought and killed a Sith on Naboo, had he killed a Master or an apprentice? The question was rooted in the belief that the Sith, having essentially defeated themselves a millennium earlier, had learned that an army of Sith could never stand, and that there should be only two at any given time, lest a pair of apprentices conspire to combine their strengths to eliminate a Master.

  More a doctrine than a rule; but a doctrine that had managed to keep the Sith order alive, if well concealed, for going on a thousand years.

  But the horned and tattooed Sith whom Obi-Wan killed could not have trained Dooku, because Dooku had still been a member of the Jedi Order then. As clouded as the dark side made some things, there was simply no way Dooku could have been living a double life within the walls of the Temple itself.

  “Master Yoda,” Obi-Wan said, “is it possible that Dooku wasn’t lying about the Senate being under the control of Sidious?”

  Yoda gave his head a quick shake while they walked. “Looked hard at the Senate, we did. And risked much we did by doing so—questioning in secret those we serve. But no evidence we found.” He glanced up at Obi-Wan. “If in control of the Senate Sidious was, would not defeated the Republic already be? Would not to the Confederacy the Core and Inner Rim belong?”

  Yoda paused for a moment, then added: “Perhaps at Geonosis, an accident it was that Dooku revealed himself. Had he not, searched we would have for Sidious, leaving Dooku to escalate his war. What think you, Obi-Wan? Hmmm?”

  Obi-Wan folded his arms. “I’ve thought long and hard about that day, Master, and I believe Dooku couldn’t help revealing himself—even though he may have regretted it. When he was fleeing for his ship, it was almost as if he allowed himself to be seen; almost as if he was attempting to draw us into an engagement. My first thought was that he was trying to ensure the safe escape of Gunray and the other Separatist leaders. But my instincts tell me that he wanted desperately to demonstrate how powerful he had become. I think he was genuinely surprised to see you turn up. But instead of killing Anakin or me, he deliberately left us alive, to send a message to the Jedi.”

  “Right you are, Obi-Wan. Pride undid him. Forced him, it did, to show us his true face.”

  “Could he have been trained by this … Sidious?”

  “Stands to reason, it does. Accepted by Sidious he was, following the death of the one you killed.”

  Obi-Wan considered it. “I’ve heard rumors about Dooku’s early fascination with the dark side. Was there not an incident in the Temple involving a stolen Sith Holocron?”

  Yoda squeezed his eyes shut and nodded. “True that rumor is. But understand, Obi-Wan, a Jedi Dooku was. For many, many years. Difficult the decision is to leave the Order. Influenced he was by many things. The death of your former Master, for one—even though avenged Qui-Gon was.”

  He glanced at Obi-Wan. “Complicated this is. Not merely by what we know, but by what we do not know; what we have to assume.”

  Yoda stopped, then gestured to a carved bench.

  “Sit for a while, we will. Enlighten you, I can.”

  Obi-Wan sat, his heart wanting to race.

  “A stern Master Dooku was, to Qui-Gon and others,” Yoda began. “Powerful he was; skilled, disdainful. More important, convinced that lowering the shroud of the dark side was. Signs there were, all about us, long before to the Temple you came; long before Qui-Gon came. Gross injustices, favoritism, corruption … More and more, called the Jedi were to enforce the peace. More and more deaths there were. Out of control events were becoming.”

  “Did the Council sense that the Sith had returned?”

  “Never absent they were, Obi-Wan. But stronger suddenly. Closer to the surface. Spoke much of the prophecy, Dooku did.”

  “The prophecy of the Chosen One?”

  “The larger prophecy: that unfold the dark times would. Born into their midst the Chosen One is, to return balance to the Force.”

  “Anakin,” Obi-Wan said.

  Yoda regarded him for a long moment. “Difficult to say,” he said quickly. “Maybe, yes; maybe, no. More important the shroud of the dark side is. Many, many discussions Dooku had. With me, with other members of the Council. Most of all, with Master Sifo-Dyas.”

  Obi-Wan waited.

  “Close friends they were. Bound together by the unifying Force. But worried about Master Dooku, Sifo-Dyas was. Worried about his disenchantment with the Republic; about self-absorption among the Jedi. Saw in Dooku the effect of Qui-Gon’s death, Sifo-Dyas did. The effect that resurfaced the Sith had.” Yoda shook his head mournfully. “Knew of Dooku’s imminent departure, Master Sifo-Dyas did. Sensed, he may have, the birth of the Separatist movement.”

  “And yet the Council dismissed Dooku as an idealist,” Obi-Wan said.

  Yoda gazed at the floor. “Saw with my own eyes what he had become, and refused to believe it, I did.”

  “But how could Dooku have searched out Sidious? Or was it the other way around?”

  “Impossible to know. But accept Sidious as a mentor Dooku did.”

  “Could Sifo-Dyas have foreseen that, as well?”

  “Also impossible to know. Believed he might have, that Sidious Dooku would hunt down. To destroy.”

  “Could that have motivated Dooku to leave the Order?”

  “Perhaps. But by the power of the dark side, even the most steadfast heart can be seduced.”

  Obi-Wan turned to face Yoda. “Master, did Sifo-Dyas order the clone army?”

  Yoda nodded. “Contacted the Kaminoans, he did.”

  “Without your knowledge?”

  “Without it, yes. But exists, a record of his initial contact.”

  Obi-Wan gave in to some of his frustration. “I should have questioned Lama Su more extensively.”

  “Questioned, the Kaminoans were. Furnished much they did.”

  “Did they?” Obi-Wan said in surprise. “When?”

  “Reticent they were when first to Kamino I went. Onl
y what already they had told you, I heard. That Sifo-Dyas the order placed; that Tyranus the donor clone furnished. That for the Republic the clones were. Seen by the Kaminoans, neither Sifo-Dyas nor Tyranus was. But later, after attacked Kamino was, more I learned from Taun We and Ko Sai. About the payments.”

  “From Sifo-Dyas?”

  “From Tyranus.”

  “Could Tyranus have been an alias for Sifo-Dyas? Could he have adopted the name to provide deniability for the Jedi in case the clone army was discovered?”

  “Wished for that I did. But killed Sifo-Dyas was, before on Kamino Jango Fett arrived.”

  “Murdered?”

  Yoda compressed his thin lips. “Unsolved the crime remains, but, yes: murdered.”

  “Someone knew,” Obi-Wan said, more to himself. “Dooku?” he asked Yoda.

  “A theory I have—nothing more. Murder, Dooku committed. Then, from the Jedi archives erased Kamino, he did. Of that tampering, proof Master Jocasta Nu found—proof of Dooku’s action, though well concealed it was.”

  Obi-Wan recalled his visit to the archives to search out the location of Kamino, only to be told by Jocasta Nu that the planetary system didn’t exist. What had caused him that day three years earlier to stare so intently at the library’s bronzium bust of Count Dooku?

  “Nevertheless, the clone army continued to be financed and built,” he said at last. “Could Sifo-Dyas and Tyranus have been partners?”

  “Of our ignorance, another example this is. But playing both sides Jango Fett clearly was. By someone on the side of the Republic, chosen he was on Bogg Four to be the clone template. But serving Dooku he was, as a hired killer. With the changeling who targeted Amidala, an intermediary he was.”

  Obi-Wan pictured Fett in the execution arena on Geonosis, standing behind Dooku in a box reserved for dignitaries. “He had knowledge of both armies. Could he have killed Sifo-Dyas?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Were you able to trace the source of the payments—beyond Tyranus, I mean?”

  “From Bogg Four into a maze of deception, they led.”

  “Did the Kaminoans say whether anyone had tried to persuade them not to build the army?”

  “Intercede, none did. Reveal themselves too soon, our enemies would have.”

  “So Dooku had no choice but to create an army before the clones were trained and ready.”

  “Appears that way, it does.”

  Obi-Wan fell silent for a moment.

  “When I was being held captive on Geonosis, Dooku told me that the Trade Federation had been allied with Sidious during the blockade of Naboo, but that they had later been betrayed by him. Dooku said that Gunray had gone to him for help, and that Dooku had tried to appeal to the Council. He claimed that, even after several warnings, the Council refused to believe him. Is any of that true, Master?”

  “More lies,” Yoda said. “Building a case to enlist you in his cause, Dooku was.”

  You must join me, Obi-Wan, Dooku had said, and together we will destroy the Sith!

  “If Gunray hadn’t been so keen on assassinating Padmé Amidala,” Obi-Wan mused. “If I’d failed to trace the saberdart that killed the changeling …”

  “Ignorant about the clone army, we might have remained.”

  “But surely the Kaminoans would have contacted us, Master.”

  “Eventually. But grown greater in numbers the Separatist army would have. Invincible, perhaps.”

  Obi-Wan’s eyes narrowed. “Mine wasn’t a case of blind luck.”

  Yoda shook his head. “Meant to learn of the clone army, we were. Destined to fight this war, we were.”

  “In the nick of time. The Council couldn’t conceive of Dooku as anything but an idealist. Perhaps he never believed that the Jedi could become generals.”

  “Nonsense,” Yoda said. “Warriors always have we been.”

  “But are we helping to return balance to the Force, or are our actions contributing to the growth of the dark side?”

  Yoda grimaced. “Impatient with such talk I grow. Cryptic this conflict is—the way it began, the way it unfolds. But for the ideals of the Republic we fight. To prevail and restore peace our priorities must remain. Then to the dark heart of this matter will we burrow. Expose the truth, we will.”

  Yoda was correct, Obi-Wan told himself. If the Jedi hadn’t learned of the clone army, Dooku’s Separatists would have suddenly appeared on the scene with tens of millions of battle droids, fleets of warships, and seceded from the Republic without contest. But there would have been no coexisting with the Confederacy. Ultimately it would have bled the Republic dry. War would have been inevitable, and the Jedi would have been caught in the middle, as they were now.

  But why hadn’t Yoda told him sooner about Sifo-Dyas?

  Or was this yet another lesson, as the search for Kamino had been? Yoda’s way of telling him to search for the thing that didn’t seem to be there by analyzing its effects on the world around it. The difference between knowledge and wisdom, Obi-Wan’s friend Dex might have said, as he did on identifying the source of the saberdart that had killed Zam Wessel, when the Temple analysis droids couldn’t.

  Yoda was regarding him when he lifted his head.

  “Reveal you, your thoughts do, Obi-Wan. Believe I should have told you sooner, you do.”

  “Yours is the wisdom of centuries, Master.”

  “Years matter not. Busy fighting a war, you have been. Mentoring your headstrong Padawan. In pursuit of Dooku and his minions … Darker, events became. Attempting to turn this war to their own uses, Dooku and Sidious are.”

  “We’ll have Dooku soon enough.”

  “Lifted the veil of the dark side wasn’t after your success on Naboo. Grown beyond Dooku this war has. Now to justice both must be brought. And to justice all those Sidious to the dark side has turned.” Yoda looked hard at Obi-Wan. “Uncover Sidious’s tracks, you must. A chance this war to conclude, you and Anakin have been given.”

  In the launching bay Anakin kept his eyes on the mechno-chair, while R2-D2 and TC-16 kept their photoreceptors on Anakin. Now that the analysts had run their diagnostic routines, the technicians were preparing to pack the device for safe shipment to Coruscant.

  Just as Obi-Wan had said, they resented the fact that Anakin had tampered with the chair, despite the fact that, had he not, the chair would have blown itself to pieces, taking with it the holoimage of Sidious and whatever other communications memories it might contain.

  Maybe Qui-Gon should have left you at Watto’s junk shop.

  Obi-Wan’s little joke. But the words had stung, for some reason. Probably because of Anakin’s own musings about what might have become of him had the Jedi not been forced to land on Tatooine to find a replacement part for Padmé’s starship. It wasn’t hard to imagine himself stuck in Mos Espa. With his mom; with C-3PO, without the bright shell he now wore—

  No.

  At nine years of age he had been an expert Podracer; by twenty-one he would have been a galactic champion. With or without Qui-Gon’s or Watto’s help, he would eventually have won the Boonta Eve race, and his reputation would have been made. He would have bought freedom for himself, his mother, all the slaves in Mos Espa, gone on to win the Grand Races on Malastare, been hailed in the gambling casinos on Ord Mantell and Coruscant. He wouldn’t have become a Jedi—he would have been too old to train—would never have learned to wield a lightsaber. But he would have been able to fly rings around the finest of Jedi pilots, including Saesee Tiin.

  And he still would have been stronger in the Force than any of them.

  He might never have met Padmé …

  He had thought her an Angel, arrived on Tatooine from the Moons of Viago. A playful remark on his part, but not as entirely innocent as it had sounded. Even so, to her he was just a funny little boy. Padmé didn’t know then that his precocity wasn’t limited to a skill for building and fixing things. He had an uncanny sense for knowing what was going to happen; a certainty that he would
become celebrated. He was different—chosen long before the Jedi Order had bestowed the title. Mythical beings came to him—Angels and Jedi—and he excelled in contests in which humans weren’t even meant to participate. And yet, even with an Angel and Jedi for guests in his home, he hadn’t divined the sudden departure from Tatooine, the Jedi training, his marriage.

  He was no longer the funny little boy. But Padmé remained his Angel—

  A vision of her broke his reverie.

  Something … something had changed. His heart filled with longing for her. Even through the Force he couldn’t clarify what he was feeling. He simply knew that he should be with her. That he should be there to protect her …

  He flexed his artificial hand.

  Remain in the living Force, he told himself. A Jedi didn’t dwell in the past. A Jedi surrendered attachment to persons and things that passed out of his or her life. A Jedi didn’t fantasize, or think: What if—

  He cut his eyes to the three human technicians who were fitting the mechno-chair into a crash-foam safety harness. One of them was working too fast, and almost knocked the chair over.

  Anakin shot to his feet and stormed across the bay.

  “Be careful with that!” he shouted.

  The oldest of the three gave him a scornful glance. “Relax, kid, we know our job.”

  Kid.

  He waved his hand, calling on the Force to keep the mechno-chair fixed in place. The three techs strained to move it, baffled until they realized what Anakin had done. Then the same one straightened and glared.

  “All right, let go of it.”

  “When I’m convinced you actually know what you’re doing.”

  “Look, kid—”

  Anakin beetled his brows in anger and advanced a step. The three techs began to back away from the chair.