Lightside Sith 012

Looking out the window, Kaine saw a forest full of lush trees, and early morning mists. 

Making sure nothing was missing, he then strapped his lightsaber to his hip, and followed after Dooku. 

Interestingly, there were very few decorations on the castle walls. But what drew his attention was that there were the mounted corpses of beasts, and ancient weapons. The paintings that were hung upon the wall typically depicted people in negotiation, or just about to duel. There were no great armies or massed battles amongst the art pieces, rather they typically depicted a single man against the world. A man climbing a glacier, a man holding a baby standing in front of a grave, the silhouette of a man gazing into a chasm as his lightsaber is ignited next to him. 

Although this study seemed pointless, Kaine was attempting to gain some measure of Dooku's character. Thrawn, to a degree was correct. To understand a people, it was important to see what they valued. A person revealed much about themselves based upon what they collected. 

Dooku very obviously highly valued aristocratic values. Due to Kaine's foreknowledge, he was already aware of this facet of the man. However, it was an easy assertion to make, a heavy handed way to paint the Count of Serenno into a corner. A simple man might think ‘Dooku is an arrogant aristocrat, therefore, he must think like every other arrogant aristocrat.’ However, based upon his collection, Kaine theorized that Dooku was an incredibly lonely man. Of course, Dooku would balk at the idea, but he seemed like a man with the weight of the universe troubling his brow. 

Understanding that this elderly man had lost faith in the Jedi Order, lost his son in all but name, and played second fiddle to Palpatine-someone 20 years his junior-it was no wonder he was oft a cynical, and jaded individual. 

What Kaine took away from this, is that Dooku preferred to be alone, and disdained the company of others. However, he enjoyed flexing his power, and was all too happy to demonstrate his superiority. To prove himself as the master of his own destiny. 

He sought freedom, to operate across this theater of war with impunity. Towards that end, he thought up several ways to interact with the old man. 

Begging, pleading, these things would only garner his disdain. Boasting might arouse interest, but was a tenuous path to approval. Blind obedience, meanwhile, would garner neither approval, nor disapproval, but would have Kaine be relegated to the designation of a tool. Aggression would only lead to a flash of lightning to the face. None of these were the proper path. 

Staring at the distant back of the cloaked man, Kaine narrowed his eyes. The proper way to interact with Dooku was to walk the path of the gentleman. Speak when spoken to. Offer sage advice, and handle the elder statesman's problems before he knew they were a problem to begin with. This was the path to independence. 

Although it somewhat irked Kaine-a modern man-to act like a minor noble paying homage to his lord, it wasn't too troublesome. Raised to respect his elders, he typically established a good report with the elderly rather easily. 

Ultimately, he decided, playing the role of one of Dooku's confidants would be fun. Equipped with a lightsaber, his own personal ship, and adventuring around the Star Wars galaxy…this was every boy's dream, no? 

Besides, now would be the perfect time to plant the seeds of Dooku's betrayal. Pitting Palps against Dooku early on would be sure to net a decent amount of LP, right?! 

As he had finished his thoughts regarding the old man, he finally entered the dining room, and saw a wide array of foodstuffs laid out on a stupidly long table. Dooku was already at the head of the table, and was spreading butter on some toast with the Force whilst he reviewed reports regarding the war. Wearing a pair of glasses, he didn't look quite so menacing, and more-so reminded Kaine of his grandpa fretting over the stock market when he was a youth. 

Standing behind a chair, Kaine silently awaited the Count's attention. After some time had passed, he placed the dataslate down, and pinched the bridge of his nose as he regarded Kaine. 

“Be seated.” 

Taking the second chair to Dooku's left, placing some distance between them, the Count raised an eyebrow in amusement. 

“A Sith knows no fear. To what end do you distance yourself from me?” Dooku's deep, charismatic voice echoed in the chamber, and questioned judgementally. 

Noticing the old man had yet to take a bite of his toast, and had nothing to quench his thirst. Kaine slowly poured both himself & Dooku a glass of some pink drink from a pitcher. Floating the drink over, he inclined his head. “I am neither your heir, your most prized enforcer, nor am I your closest confidant and protector. I know my place.” 

“Indeed?” Dooku asked, gripping his hand around the goblet, he gave it a swirl. “And what, Lord Renstar, is that?” 

Kaine ignored the slight barb-as being called a Lord whilst still an Acolyte is like mocking Anakin by calling him a Master-and he raised his goblet at Dooku in salute. 

“As one of your many blades, Lord Tyranus, I am neither the strongest, nor am I the greatest tactician.” He said, referencing Ventress & Grievous. “However, I bring qualities that neither of them possess.” 

“One appearance at a gala does not make one a diplomat.” Dooku dismissed in disdain, and took a crunching bite out of his toast, never once dropping eye contact. 

“The Supreme Chancellor invited me to speak with him at any time, claiming I might have a future by his side by the end of the war. Senator Amidala courted my attention at every turn. Skywalker wanted me dead. Ryloth now sits in your hands, not a single droid destroyed.” Kaine stated one after another, his tone was devoid of any boastful nature, and he stuck strictly to the facts. 

Of course, he didn't forget to throw shade at Palpatine~ 

The Darkside aura around Dooku surged for a moment, pressing upon him. Kaine felt his breath shorten ever so slightly, yet he just barely retained his composure. 

“You play the game well, Renstar. However, do not think yourself clever. All plots are nothing compared to power.” Dooku elegantly stated, then finally took a sip from his beverage. 

“I serve at your pleasure, my Lord.” Kaine saluted once more, making sure to maintain his calm facade even though he was internally shitting bricks. 

He was well aware how mercurial this old man could be. Kaine had watched plenty of footage of Dooku being chill one moment, then flashing Ventress with some electrified pain the next second. 

“That remains to be seen.” Dooku said, narrowing his eyes. “Tell me, Renstar, what do you think your punishment should be after failing my Master's mission?” 

Kaine felt his throat go dry, and desperately took a sip of his drink to both wet his lips, and give himself a moment to think. Every time Dooku interacted with Palpatine’s hologram, he was on his knees with his head bowed. Although Dooku had spared Kaine up to this point, the proud aristocrat still had to go through with this humiliation ritual. Since Kaine had failed, it wouldn't be out of the question for the future Emperor to have given Dooku an admonishment. Which likely meant…the Count must be lowkey really fucking pissed at the moment! 

Alarm bells were ringing in Kaine's mind, and he knew he couldn't afford to be flippant with his response. Excuses were something the Sith hated most, so he would have to speak from a different angle. 

Scrunching his brow, he clenched both hands into fists, and let out a low hiss of impotent rage. 

“A Sith can tolerate failure, but he cannot tolerate weakness. Please, my Lord, point your sword at the most troublesome worlds. Allow me the honor of cleansing this shame with the wails of your foes.” Kaine said, like a knight from ages past. 

Dooku regarded him for a moment, and when Kaine thought he was going to get a blast of lightning hands to the face, the blasted old man began to clap, and let out a deep, sonorous laugh. 

“Hahaha, well said. A war is upon us, and I cannot be having one of my swords rusting away in the dungeon. No. Your punishment will be to run alongside the darkest trenches, skulk beneath the storm of blasterfire, and endure the weight of a vanguard's charge.” Dooku painted a grand picture of carnage whilst cutting into some sort of alien steak & eggs. 

Kaine secretly sighed in relief, and plastered a solemn expression on his face. “As my Lord commands.” 

‘Now all I have to do is play it cool, then, once I'm away from this blasted castle, an entire new front to farm LP will open up!’ Kaine could practically see a mass of +1LP floating  in the air as he imagined what the Clone Wars could offer him. 

“Failure is to be expected, but do not make a habit of it. I will not tolerate a dull blade, do you understand?” Dooku said meaningfully, giving him a serious warning. 

“And should I come across a Jedi Master?” Kaine questioned, refusing to be intimidated by his aura. 

Dooku arched an eyebrow, mildly surprised, yet was also respectful? that Kaine had talked back to him. 

“A blade cannot escape a few knicks, nor can it avoid tempering.” Dooku replied in a roundabout way. “The quenching process often reveals several flaws that require hammering out.” 

“...Where would you have me, my Lord?” 

Dooku steepled his fingers, and stared at him, deep in thought. Then, tapping a few buttons on his dataslate, a 3D holographic image of an armored man came into view. 

“Upon the world of Ord Mantell you shall find yourself a bounty hunter who goes by the name: Durge. Recruit him to our cause.” 

Kaine stared at the 3D model, and recalled a scene from the 2003 Clone Wars cartoon where this Gen'Dai took command of a speederbike cavalry unit, and wrecked shit upon the Republic's 212th Legion. Clashing head to head with Legends Obi-Wan, this alien had insane regeneration capabilities, stretchy arm powers like Luffy or Plasticman, and was super strong. At 2,000+ years old, he had seen more than Yoda, and by this point, was only a bounty hunter for the love of the game. Durge was a certified badass, and someone Kaine would love to bring onboard his team. 

“You are to complete this mission alone. No additional droids, credits, ships or other resources shall be assigned to you. This should fall within the capabilities of the famed representative Sith, Lord Renstar.” Dooku said in a steady tone, yet the mockery couldn't be withheld from his voice. 

Kaine suppressed a wince. During his flight to Serenno, he had searched his own name on the Holonet a few times. For maybe two days, he was all the rage, with many people gossiping about his outfit of all things…Padmé claiming she didn't hold it against him, still hoping for peace had brought another round of attention, boosting his nascent fame. Dooku, evidently, had seen these reports, and was currently busting his balls over them. Funny enough, it was Palpatine who had first erroneously dubbed him with the ‘Lord’ moniker. Perhaps this was some slight progress in establishing beef between the two? 

Instead of getting flustered at his rebuke, Kaine smiled, as he knew that recruiting Durge should actually be pretty easy, as he knew the alien's secret. “As you command.” 

Waiting for a dismissal, he was disappointed when the Count snorted, and continued speaking, as if he was disappointed that Kaine was so nonchalant about the mission. 

“Furthermore, Ord Mantell is home to a Jedi protector, an Ongree Knight who goes by the name Pablo-Jill. During his tenure, this hotbed for smugglers, bounty hunters, and mercenaries has lost its flavor. Once you have removed him, await further orders.” Dooku waved his hand, shooing him away. 

Saluting once more, and saying the typical pleasantries, Kaine rose from his seat, and just as he was about to depart, Dooku's next words halted him in his tracks. 

“You were mistaken about one thing, Renstar. You are to sit at my right side going forward.” 

Kaine stopped, and looked back in confusion, only to see a piece of paper flutter in front of him. 

Inside, Qui-Gon had written a heartfelt message, and it got sappy a few times, seemingly having nothing to do with him. Scanning the article, his eyes became glued to one line in particular. 

Please take care of my adopted son, Kaine Renstar. He is in over his head, and perhaps a little foolish at times, but his heart is in the right place. 

All my love,

Qui-Gon