Chapter 71 : Ventress's Strike
[POV: Asajj Ventress]
Dooku's fortress on Serenno rises like blade against twilight sky—ostentatious declaration of power that makes perfect target. I've been watching for seventeen days, learning patrol patterns and security rotations while waiting for optimal strike window.
Tonight. Dooku meditates alone in private chambers at 2200 hours—ritual he maintains despite paranoia that should prevent predictable schedules. Arrogance is his weakness. Believes nobody would dare attack Separatist leader in heart of his own territory.
I dare.
The Halo active camouflage Varro supplied wraps around me like second skin—optical stealth that security sensors can't detect. I slip past perimeter guards who look directly at my position and see nothing. Technology beyond Force-based concealment. Dooku won't sense approach until too late.
Inside the fortress, familiar corridors trigger memories I've been suppressing for months. Trained here. Lived here. Believed Dooku when he called me apprentice rather than tool. The betrayal burns fresh despite time passed—he ordered my execution like discarding broken weapon.
Now I return that gift.
Security checkpoint ahead—two battle droids and human overseer. I move past them while they discuss shift schedules, close enough to touch without detection. The camouflage is perfect. Varro's equipment performs exactly as specified.
"Worth every credit I paid him. Assuming I survive to appreciate the irony."
Dooku's private chambers are through secret passage only former apprentice would know. I navigate without hesitation, muscle memory guiding me through corridors Dooku believes secure. The passage emerges behind meditation room tapestry.
He's there. Sitting in traditional meditation posture, lightsaber at his side, completely unaware. For one moment I appreciate power dynamics—predator who's been prey, student who's about to kill teacher, discarded tool that's become blade.
I activate Mass Effect biotic dampeners Varro supplied. The devices are small, portable, and absolutely devastating to Force-users. Dooku's connection to the Force wavers like light flickering—not severed completely but suppressed enough that his precognition fails.
His eyes snap open. "Who—"
I attack before he finishes question. Lightsabers ignite—his red, mine red, former student and teacher in combat that's been inevitable since betrayal. He deflects my opening strike but confusion disrupts his perfect Form II technique. The dampeners work. He's fighting physically rather than through Force-enhanced perception.
"Ventress." Recognition brings cold fury to his expression. "You dare attack me in my own fortress?"
"You ordered my execution. This is consequence." I activate Warhammer 40K Animus Speculum—device that reflects Force attacks back at user. Dooku won't be able to rely on Force pushes or telekinesis without hurting himself.
We fight across meditation chamber. His technique is superior—decades of experience versus my years of training. But equipment advantage matters. Every Force attack he attempts rebounds, forcing purely physical combat. Every precognitive advantage is suppressed by dampeners. We're matched for first time in our history.
My blade catches his shoulder—shallow cut through robes that draws blood. First blood. Proof that I can wound him.
"Where did you acquire this technology?" he demands, adjusting tactics. "This isn't Force-based equipment."
"Trade secret. Appreciate irony of student using tools teacher doesn't understand?"
He doesn't respond verbally. Instead collapses part of ceiling using Force push that rebounds through Animus Speculum—hurts him but accomplishes tactical objective. Debris creates barriers, changes battlefield dynamics. He's adapting despite equipment disadvantage.
"He's survival master. Expected this to be easier."
We fight through dust and rubble. My equipment gives advantage but his experience compensates. Then I make mistake—overextend during aggressive strike, leave opening he exploits. His lightsaber slashes across biotic dampener on my belt, severing device.
His Force connection returns fully. Presence floods meditation chamber with overwhelming power that makes me stumble. He capitalizes immediately—Force push throws me across room, crashes me through window.
Free fall from third story is brief terror. I activate jetpack Varro sold separately, stabilize flight, but momentum carries me beyond fortress walls. Behind me, alarm klaxons scream. Separatist security mobilizes—battle droids, elite guards, overwhelming numbers pouring from barracks.
I could return. Could press attack despite reinforcements. Might even kill Dooku if willing to trade my life for his.
But I hesitate. That half-second of calculation is fatal to assassination attempt. By time I decide pressing attack, security has surrounded Dooku's position. Window closes.
Mission failed.
I retreat toward extraction point, pursuing fire dogging my escape. Lost Animus Speculum and one biotic dampener in meditation chamber—equipment Dooku will examine and trace back to supplier. Lost element of surprise permanently. Lost opportunity that won't come again.
But I'm alive. Dooku is wounded, furious, but alive.
Aboard stolen shuttle fleeing Serenno system, I review what went wrong. Hesitation killed the attempt. Should have traded my life for his without calculation. But survival instinct proved stronger than vengeance desire.
"Ten years of training couldn't erase fundamental attachment to living. Disappointing."
I activate encrypted communication to Varro—supplier who enabled attempt and deserves warning about consequences.
"Mission failed. Dooku lives. He has your equipment specimens. Will trace technology back to you. Sorry." I disconnect before he can respond.
The apology is inadequate. I used his equipment, left it at crime scene, and implicated him in assassination attempt against Count Dooku. Now Separatist intelligence will hunt him alongside Republic's existing manhunt.
I've multiplied his enemies for failed vengeance that accomplished nothing except proving I'm not as ruthless as believed.
[POV: Count Dooku]
The shoulder wound is painful but not serious—lightsaber cauterized as it cut. Medical droid treats injury while I examine equipment Ventress abandoned during escape. The devices are fascinating and infuriating simultaneously.
"What's analysis?" I demand of chief technician who's been studying captured items.
"Technology that shouldn't exist, my lord. This device—" he indicates biotic dampener "—suppresses Force connection through principles I don't recognize. Not Force-based. Not any known galactic technology. Engineering sophistication is extraordinary."
"Origin?"
"Unknown. But design philosophy matches equipment Republic investigators examined on Mandalore. Same manufacturing precision, same materials science, same impossible technology from arms dealer named Kade Varro."
The name is familiar. Intelligence reports mentioned this supplier weeks ago—suspected of providing advanced weapons to multiple factions including Death Watch, Shadow Collective, and apparently now assassination equipment to former apprentice.
"Find him."
"My lord, Republic is already hunting him. He's in hiding with Death Watch at unknown location."
"Then offer incentive that brings him to us. One million credits for information regarding his location. Five million for capture alive—I want to interrogate him about supply sources. Three million dead if capture proves impossible." I touch shoulder wound. "This Varro has supplied equipment to everyone causing problems. He is nexus point for chaos across galaxy. Eliminating him disrupts multiple opposition networks."
"Five million is substantial bounty."
"This supplier has enabled hundreds of casualties through impossible technology. Worth significant investment to neutralize." I stand, dismissing medical droid. "Additionally, examine this equipment thoroughly. If we can reverse-engineer technology, Separatist forces gain advantage equivalent to what he's given our enemies."
"Reverse engineering may prove difficult without understanding manufacturing—"
"Then make capturing him alive priority. Five million is sufficient incentive to motivate every bounty hunter in galaxy."
After technician departs, I'm alone with rage that doesn't show externally but burns internally. Ventress nearly killed me using equipment from supplier operating somewhere in Death Watch protection. The layers of connection are remarkable—arms dealer supplies terrorist faction I'm supposedly allied with through Shadow Collective's association with Death Watch's opposition to Duchess Satine who Republic protects.
Galactic politics is impossibly tangled web. But every web has critical connection points. Cut right thread, entire structure collapses.
Kade Varro is that thread.
I activate holographic communication to Separatist intelligence coordinator. "Issue galaxy-wide bounty on arms dealer Kade Varro. Five million credits alive, three million dead. Description and last known associates are in system. Make this galaxy's most publicized manhunt."
"Understood, Count. Bounty will process through all major networks within six hours."
"Excellent. Also coordinate with Shadow Collective contacts. Maul may know Varro's location given his organization purchased weapons from same supplier. Offer information sharing—we help them find mutual enemies if they help us find mutual problems."
"Maul is unpredictable ally."
"Maul is pragmatic criminal. He'll appreciate removing supplier who causes as many problems for him as for us."
The communication ends. I review security footage showing Ventress's attack—her technique is excellent, equipment gave massive advantage, and still she failed through hesitation. That hesitation saved my life.
But it won't save Varro's. He supplied assassination equipment, left forensic evidence, and connected himself to attempt that wounded Separatist leader.
Every bounty hunter, mercenary, and desperate criminal in galaxy will now hunt him.
Five million credits is generational wealth. Sufficient motivation to turn over every rock, investigate every rumor, and eventually find asteroid base or wherever he's hiding.
"You enabled my would-be assassin, Varro. Now experience consequences of arming galaxy's most dangerous people. Perhaps you'll survive long enough to explain your impossible technology before I execute you for complications you've caused."
The shoulder throbs despite medical treatment. Physical reminder that I was vulnerable, that former apprentice nearly succeeded, that supplier's equipment made assassination attempt viable.
That reminder will fuel manhunt until either Varro is captured or I'm satisfied he's suffered proportionally.
Vengeance is patient art. I have time.
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