Chapter Text

Chapter 1 – An Unexpected Ally

As Ares had become quickly aware, a severed hand was excruciatingly painful. His own rang with agony and he cradled it closer to his chest in a miserable attempt to stop the pain. He could barely think about anything other than the pain and the putrid smell of burnt flesh. Father will pay for this, he thought bitterly. He tried not to focus on the pain, however difficult that task was, and only about how he would present his case to the Jedi Order.

For what felt like the hundredth time, he leaned forward to check that his ship’s hyperdrive co-ordinates were correct. He dreaded to think how he was going to steer with one hand once they jumped out of hyperspace and how he was going to find his way around a city that engulfed a planet. For once in his life, there weren’t even any droids around. He was completely alone.

Ares looked at the co-pilot’s seat. He had placed a curved, silver lightsabre - his father’s stolen lightsabre. He couldn’t quite remember how he had gotten it or how he managed to drag himself to a ship and fly away. Surely, something as dastardly as stealing his father’s lightsabre would be easy to remember and yet… nothing. His memory was fogged and clouded, and yet he knew that what happened had indeed happened. The pain must have smeared the memory.

Ares couldn’t remember much at all now that he thought about it. After he had woken up from a long dream on the floor of his Raxillian shuttle, he knew only three things: his hand was cut off, he had his father’s lightsabre and he would stop at nothing to get his revenge on the old man. His plan just… came to him. It was the most logical thing to do: to go to his father’s enemies. Count Dooku was too powerful to fight alone. His smouldering hand was proof of that. Besides, the enemy of his enemy would be his friend.

The ship came out of hyperspace.

“Alright, here goes nothing,” the boy said to himself as he took the steering handle into his one good hand. Thankfully, his father had chosen to chop his non-dominant left hand.

Coruscant was larger than he could have possibly imagined. Not only did the massive circumference the planet, but it had several layers of depth. He was already starting to miss the comfort of his home of Raxus. Even Serenno, the cold ancestral seat that gave him his name, would be more welcome that this strange place. Thankfully, he remembered enough of his studies to remember the famous landmarks and identified the massive cuboid building of the Jedi Temple. He set his ship down in the landing bay outside and sat back to admire it for a moment. For his entire life, his father had taught him to hate the Jedi and the Republic and to be the tool to bring them down. Ares had spent an entire childhood spitting on the Jedi Code. Now he was here. The universe had a sense of humour, he thought as he stepped out of the ship.

He was stopped at the main gates by two Jedi Temple Sentries. Their double-edged, yellow blades halted his path. “State your business, intruder,” the taller one said. 

“I’m hardly an intruder if I’m walking through the main gates,” Ares replied. “I wish to speak with the Jedi Council. Urgently.”

“What do you have to say to the Council?” the other, shorter Sentry said.

“My business with them is not for you,” Ares replied.

“The Council is not in session at the moment,” the tall one said.

Ares sighed. Bureaucracy was exhausting. “I’m the son of Count Dooku. Do you think the Council will reconvene for my sake?” He took his father’s lightsabre off his belt without igniting it to show them that he wasn’t lying.

That was how he managed to get himself inside the temple and into the High Tower. He stood at the centre of the circular room surrounded by Jedi Masters. Masters Yoda, Windu, Unduli, Mundi and Kenobi were physically present, whilst Plo Koon, Secura, Ti, Koth, Fisto, Gallia and Piell were holograms. Dooku had made his son memorise his enemies’ names, histories, strengths and weaknesses. Somehow those facts came more clearly into his brain than what had transpired in the past twelve hours.

“What matters do you have with the Jedi Council, boy?” asked Mace Windu.

Ares took a deep breath, calming his mind. “My name is Ares of Serenno, son of Count Dooku. I come before you … seeking to aid this group of warriors in ending my father, in any way that I can. You are the order that he is trying to destroy. We can help each other,” he said, cautiously, and then showed them his severed hand. “I seek nothing but vengeance. My father has denied me the things that I hold most dear and so I want to take from him that which he loves most: his dreams of a galaxy under his rule.”

“How can we trust a traitor?”

“How can we trust the son of a traitor?”

“This is obviously a trick!”

“We should detain him whilst we have the chance!”

“He’s just like his father. His face and manners alone are too much like Dooku’s; his cunning and treachery will be as well.”

“I sense the darkness within him.” These were just some of the protests of the Masters cried, but they all became quiet when the oldest amongst them spoke.

“Much darkness, I sense. Converted to the light, never before a Sith has,” said Master Yoda. “Trust you, why should we?”

“I wouldn’t call myself a Sith. I never completed my training or my dark baptism or even travelled to a Sith Temple. My father, who was my teacher, never even gave me my dark name. Contrary to what your order may believe, it is not an easy thing to become a Sith – there’s a long waiting list.” The attempt at a joke was not met with any response. He pressed on. “And I do not seek to impose upon your traditions or become a member or even convert to the light – I fear that I would only insult you if I did that. I only wish to end Dooku and I cannot do so alone. I have tried and failed… evidently.”

“Traditionally, a Sith apprentice kills his master,” said Kenobi.

“And you’re an expert on Sith traditions, Master Kenobi? Then again, you are the only Jedi to have killed a Sith in a very long time, so perhaps you are. No, this is not the case of the Rule of Two. I am not the Sith Apprentice because that title is reserved for my father. He has a master, who I never met. It would be his duty to overthrow him if he was to become the Sith Master. I had never become initiated into the Sith Order,” said Ares.

“Count Dooku has a master?” asked Plo Koon, feigning naivete.

“Yes,” said Ares. “Although I’m afraid that I know very little about him. My father kept him secret… for obvious reasons.”

“What drove him to cast you out, boy?” asked Windu.

“My memory is very foggy. I remember being furious after having learnt a terrible secret. My father had been ordered to kill me by his master and he had chosen to follow those orders. We duelled. Evidently, it had gone terribly,” said Ares as he lifted his severed arm once again. “But the next thing I knew, I was waking up on my ship with his lightsabre, stolen. Force knows how. I think the pain has blinded the memory of the event. I do not remember the details.”

“We cannot trust him this easily,” said Piell. “Some of us will remember that his father served on this very council once and he betrayed us. We cannot trust the son of the traitor so easily.”

“I understand that it would be foolish to trust the son of your enemies so quickly. Perform whatever tests or rituals you like, Master Jedi. I can prove that I have severed myself from my father and that I am your ally,” Ares said. “I hope that in time you will trust me enough to aid you in your crusade against the Confederacy and the Sith.”

“Separatists,” said Luminara Unduli. Ares looked at her questioningly. “Here, in the Republic, we call them Separatists. Not Confederacy.”

“My mistake,” said Ares. “Old habits.”

“Count Dooku had left the Jedi Order 20 years ago. How old are you boy?” Asked Kenobi, suddenly becoming aware of the boy’s youth.

“16, sir,” answered Ares.

“Do you have any military experience?” asked Plo Koon.

“I have been trained as a commander of the Droid Army. I was supposed to take a commission as a commander before my father… changed his mind,” said Ares.

“To consider all this, time we need,” said Yoda. 

“I agree,” said Windu.

“We will send our Temple’s doctor to tend to your wounds,” added Kenobi, seeing the boy’s pain. It no doubt reminded the Jedi Master of his own padawan’s dismemberment at the hands of Dooku on Geonosis not that long ago. “Sith or not, the boy is need of help.”

Ares bowed, grateful. His eyes glanced at the curved lightsabre in Yoda’s hand. The Grandmaster was looking at the sabre, sorrowful; no doubt he was mourning his former dark student through it. Ares didn’t want to leave the blade with them, but the Sentry guard pushed him out and he was shuffled out of the room. Once outside, he released a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding and realised how stupid his plan had been. They could have killed him.

[][][]

The Sentries brought the boy to the medical quarters where a doctor spoke to him. She smiled at him warmly, which felt like the first smile he had seen all month. “Greetings, young man. I’m the Temple doctor. The Council has ordered me to assist you with your injuries.”

“Yes, thank you,” said Ares, proffering her his arm.

“That looks like a clean cut,” she said as she set about treating him.

“What’s your name?” Ares asked, habitually. Dark apprentice or not, good manners and behaviour had been ingrained in aristocratic DNA.

“I’m Doctor Rig Nema,” she said. “And you?”

“Ares,” he answered.

“I’m going to give you some pain killers,” she said before sticking a syringe into his neck. He didn’t feel a thing. “And build you a new hand. Fortunately for you, that happens to be my speciality. Now, lie back.”

Ares complied and turned his head away, not wanting to see the operation. He sighed. “May I close my eyes for some rest? It has been a very long day.”

“I’ll bet it has been. Go ahead,” the doctor said.

Over the next two hours, the doctor and her droid assistants operated on him whilst he slept. He was plagued by dreams of darkness and manic laughter, so the doctor awoke him and gave him some warm tea, which he gratefully accepted.

“How’s it looking, doc?” he asked.

“Almost perfect if I do say so myself. I just need to perform the sensory test,” she informed him and beckoned a droid to her. With a sharp needle, the droid prodded each of the boy’s fingers, which recoiled in response.

“Ow! I felt that!” He said, before realizing what he said. “I felt that! Wow, good as new!” He examined his new hand. It looked gold and heavy and… foreign. It would be weird to have that as his hand now, but he could feel with it the usual sensations of a normal hand and he could move all the fingers at will. There was no pain. “Thank you, Doctor Nema! Your work is exemplar!”

“My pleasure, Ares,” she said, smiling at him kindly. “Try using the Force with it.” Ares lifted a crate full of medical supplies and then set it down, gently. “Seems okay. It will be functional in water too. Any problems with it, come and find me.”

“I’ll try not to lose this one,” said Ares, jokingly.

“It’s good that you have a sense of humour about this,” she said and started packing her things when the Jedi Masters entered the med-bank.

Dooku had taught him that when force-wielders were younglings, they typically had one force ability that was more developed. It was how the Jedi made their lists of future recruits. Since before he could remember, Ares’ innate powers had been emotions. The emotions of other people, even the concealed ones, were an open book for him to read. That is not to say that emotions were not complex, because they were, but Ares just had a natural disposition to seek them out, even subconsciously. The emotions of these Jedi were clouded with disapproval and insecurity, but in that crowd, Ares could sense a glimmer of hope and optimism amongst a few of them.

“Don’t bother packing up, Doctor. We need you to run a few more tests on our guest,” said Windu.

“What kind of tests?” Ares asked.

“A truth serum examination to see if you were telling the truth. A fully body scan to see if the Separatists have implanted any espionage devices in you. A brain scans. And then a purification trial,” said Kenobi. “If you can go through all that, we will also ask you to swear an oath to the Republic and the Jedi Order.”

“What’s a purification trial?” Ares asked.

“A Jedi ritual usually used for cleansing Jedi of their spiritual wrongdoings. It is a trial for those seeking redemption. We believe it will benefit you greatly if what you say is true,” said Mundi.

“I have no interest in redemption. My only desire is vengeance,” corrected Ares.

“Just do it as a goodwill gesture to our order. There’s no threat of danger to you. Our fellow Jedi Masters will feel much at ease if they were not dealing with a practitioner of the dark arts,” said Kenobi.

“Alright. If it eases the consciences of others, then let’s get started,” said Ares.

[][][]

The truth serum examination did not tell the Council anything the boy had not already told them. He answered all their questions. He gave them the names of Senate members that were dinner guests in Dooku’s home, such as the likes of Rush Clovis, and names of members in the Separatist Parliament that would make for allies. He gave them everything he could think of that was useful to them, in addition to everything they asked.

A full body scan indicated there were no devices in his body that would compromise him or them. He was clean.

His brain showed signs of unusual activity in the cortex responsible for memory and emotions, but the doctor reassured the Jedi that this was normal for someone after experiencing trauma and may explain why he couldn’t remember clearly recent events. The boy had been telling the truth about everything.

The purification trial was what he was secretly looking forward to. He had spent his whole life learning the ways of the dark arts, training to bring down the Jedi Order, but he had never seen a purely Jedi religious practise in action.

He was instructed to strip to his boxers and then wade into a pool of the purest water in the very heart of the temple. The Jedi Masters would use the force to… well, they didn’t clarify what they would do. He simply had to trust them. The thought was uneasy and so he focused instead on his new prosthetic and if it would function in the water as well as it did on land.

“Ares of Serenno,” said Yoda, bringing him out of his self-imposed distraction. “Acknowledge do you, the wrong that you have done in the past?”

Ares thought that was a bit rich. What had he done wrong? Be born? Listen to his father as a child? Was that a sin? He tried to think of what war crimes he could be accused of. “What wrong is that, Master Yoda?”

“Learned the ways of the dark side, you have,” clarified Yoda.

It had not been his choice. He had been a boy; a dutiful, obedient son to his dark father. Weren’t the choices he made to break free more important? A bubble of anger rose in his chest at the accusations. “I’ll concede that I studied them and enjoyed my research, but I hardly believe that was a fault,” he said, trying to override his anger his polite diplomacy.

“Wish you, to cleanse yourself of the Sith?”

It’s just water, he thought. “I seek to destroy the two Sith Lords.” He could say that honestly.

“Then, beneath the water, submerge you must. If honest in those intentions, you are, know, we will,” said Yoda.

Ares did as he was instructed. Taking a deep breath, he felt the water seep in. The pool was deeper than he had expected it to be. Immediately, he sensed the force moving through, around and within him. Suddenly, there was a tight grip on his throat as if someone was choking him and he began to thrash under the water. No, not choking… it was more like something was reaching inside his throat to pull out… he didn’t know what. A dark smoky shadow with red eyes secreted from his lungs. It gave a fearsome roar, the full intensity of which was absorbed by the water, and then it evaporated in the clear liquid. A beam of light emitted from the pool around the Jedi and Ares burst from the water, gasping for breath and scrambling for support above the water. 

“What was that?!” he yelled.

“Cleansed, you have been. See to it that you stay cleansed, young one,” said Yoda. “Come out, you can.”

“It was just water! It was supposed to be just water!” He hit a splash of it in his frustration.

“It was,” said Windu. “Get dressed and we’ll see you in the High Tower.”

He waited for them all to file out before he got out of the pool. When he went to pick up his clothes, he managed to get a glimpse of himself in the mirror and backed away. The trial had altered him. His hair was crowned with an icy white colour, though his original coal black roots crept beneath it. His skin positively beamed bright, an effect that was starting to fade the longer he stayed out of the water. His eyes, though they remained brown, now had sparks of gold. He not only looked different, he felt different… lighter, optimistic, more… free? The weight on his feet seemed different. He couldn’t quite describe it.

“That’s… bizarre,” he said, poking and prodding the new features of his appearance.

He got dressed quickly and left the medical quarters. Notably, the Sentries were dismissed, and he now had to find his own way to the High Tower. Now, if they could only give him back his father’s lightsabre then he’d be much more at ease.

[][][]

As he walked into their Council Chamber, the masters’ discussion died.

“Step forward, Ares of Serenno,” said Kenobi. Ares noticed that his father’s lightsabre was now in Obi-Wan Kenobi’s possession.

“You have given our council much to discuss,” Plo Koon said.

“We’ve debated extensively about this matter and I’m afraid that the council is much divided about this issue,” said Shaak Ti. “You will not have an easy path on the journey that you have selected to take, young man.”

“I don’t expect so, Master Jedi,” replied Ares. “We are all born to have difficult journeys.”

“The Council has decided to grant you amnesty from the Separatists,” said Windu. “You will serve as an advisor of the council when called upon. You will placed under Master Kenobi’s guardianship.”

“So that I can keep an eye on you, young man,” said Kenobi. There was a warm smile on the man’s face; a reassurance that everything would be alright. “And since you’ll be spending so much time with me, and I’ll so often be on the battlefield, you’ll be given the honorary title of Captain of the Grand Army of the Republic assigned to the 212^th Attack Battalion.”

“I’m very grateful to the Council,” Ares said. He honestly didn’t think that this plan would have worked so far. He could have so easily been killed or imprisoned or ransomed back to Dooku. Don’t jinx it yet, he thought to himself. There was an eternity of time and opportunity for that to happen.

“But, we have also decided that we will not be completing your training. Master Kenobi and any other Jedi is expressly forbidden from completing your training,” said Plo Koon.

“…understandable,” said Ares.

Kenobi rose from his seat and walked up to the young man. “I hope this is the start of a great partnership, Ares of Serenno,” he said and gave the boy his father’s curved hilt lightsabre back. Ares took it immediately, feeling it’s reassuring cold grip.

“I hope so too, Master Kenobi,” said Ares.

“Now, bow down before this council and swear an oath to the Republic and the Jedi Order,” said Windu, eager to see the young man bow down before the very things he was born to destroy. Ironic, Ares thought in response to the Jedi Master’s abundant eagerness. Oaths were promises, which Siths and dark apprentices were trained not to value.

“Which oath?” Ares asked.

“We think that since you will be serving as a soldier it would be fitting for you to swear a military oath, the one that our clones swear upon finishing their training. We’ve changed some of the words to be more fitting to your situation,” said Kenobi, whilst giving Ares a datapad that had the words on it.

Ares took a deep breath and went down on one knee. He ignited the red-bladed lightsabre to swear upon it. “In days of War, in nights of Death, Obey the Republic forever more, With Blue & Red as Markings, I answer to The Jedi Order, I fight for Justice and Security!” He stood up and placed the lightsabre on his belt.

“Welcome, young one,” said Kenobi with welcoming arms and warm blue eyes.

[][][]

“These will be your quarters whilst you live on Coruscant,” Kenobi said. He had escorted him to the dormitories and used the opportunity to talk more personally. Loathe as Ares was to admit, it was… nice of him.

The room was basic: a bed, a window, a meditation map and some book on the Jedi Order. There was also some change of clothes that sported Republican insignia, which Ares was grateful for because his own robes were scorched and bloodied. “We will be leaving for military duty in a few days, so don’t get too comfortable. Here’s some credits for you to get by on for now, until payday. Do you have any questions?”

“I’m not your padawan... just so we’re clear,” Ares clarified. As much as he hated his father, he wasn’t thrilled to be with the Jedi Order now.  

“I know,” said Kenobi. “But if you do want to learn a thing or two about the world, stay close and keep your ears open, Captain.” Kenobi had a warm, fatherly smile. It was nice. Ares couldn’t quite remember the last time Dooku had smiled like that at him.

“Will do, General.”

Ares was about to retire for the evening and get some much needed rest when the voice of Kenobi and the entrance of a new force-signature stopped him.

“Anakin, what are you doing here?”

Ares turned to see the famed Chosen One walking towards them. There was something very familiar about the man and it wasn’t just his military history. Ares knew this man from somewhere.

“Heard you got yourself a new padawan. Came to meet my replacement,” said Anakin. He clearly didn’t recognise Ares – so where did Ares know him from? The connection was too strong to just be from studies. 

“Not a padawan. A ward,” said Kenobi. “Ares, this irreplaceable man is Anakin Skywalker, my former padawan.”

“So, you’re Dooku’s spawn?” Anakin asked, accusatively.

“Unfortunately,” Ares replied, defensively crossing his arms. The Chosen One looked like he wanted a confrontation. Ares looked him over. It was hard to think of someone less likely to bring balance to the force.

Skywalker smirked. “You sure do look a lot like him.”

“Not much I can do about that, is there?” said Ares, crossing his arms defensively. “My objective is to destroy him.”

“Hm, join the club,” said Skywalker.

“I have. I literally just did that,” said Ares, glaring with hatred.

“Good. Good to know that at least some of the Seppies have some common sense,” said Skywalker. Ares glared at him.

An exasperated sigh interrupted the glaring competition between the two young men. Ares looked behind Skywalker and saw a young, orange Togruta girl about his age. She was skinny but well-toned. Her white markings highlighted her face skeptical expression. There was a padawan braid clipped to her lekku and a lightsabre on her belt. Maybe it was the species, but she was quite pretty. Ares crooked an eyebrow at her.

“Ares, this is Anakin’s padawan, Ahsoka Tano,” said Obi-Wan. “I have a feeling the two of you will be seeing plenty of each other. Anakin and I often fight together.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” said Ares, genially.

“Hi,” she responded, distrustful, just like her master.

“Perhaps Ahsoka can give a tour of the Temple to our new comrade?” Obi-Wan politely asked the padawan. “Anakin and I have some matters to discuss.”

Ahsoka sent Obi-Wan a look of betrayal before sighing and waving for Ares to follow her. “Fine. Come on… comrade.” Ares smirked; he was going to enjoy this.

[][][]

Anakin crossed his arms and looked at Kenobi. “How did this get a green light from the Jedi Council?”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and beckoned his former student to walk with him. “Oh, can you be calm? He’s just lost his family, his home and all his friends. He came to the Jedi Council for help, not knowing if he would be executed or imprisoned for war crimes. We like to be angry at the Separatists for not seeking redemption, but when one does come to us you start bickering about casting him out.” Kenobi paused. “That’s roughly the speech that I gave to the Council to persuade them.”

“What if he’s a traitor?! A spy?! What if he betrays us? And you’ve just given him a military title that grants him access to our military data,” Anakin hissed.

Obi-Wan looked as if he had been expecting this argument. Indeed, he had only rebutted it an hour ago to his colleagues. “His father sliced his arm off. I don’t think he’ll want to be giving any aid to the Separatists any time soon,” said Obi-Wan.

“He was trained exclusively in the ways of the dark side. How are you not hearing this?” Anakin asked again.

“Perhaps, but that is only because he has had no other choices. We performed the cleansing trial. He came out altered. There’s hope for him yet,” said Kenobi.

“Obi-Wan, you… you’re making a mistake!” Anakin said.

“I don’t think I am. Now, be civil to him. He’s just a boy,” said Kenobi.

[][][]

“I’m going to use my incredible powers of deduction here and assume that you are not at ease,” said Ares as they walked away from the dormitories and the two Jedi Knights. “Correct me if I’m wrong.”

“Wow,” Ahsoka deadpanned. “What gave it away?”

“I thought anger was not the Jedi way,” said Ares. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re a Separatist and, likely, a Sith and I’ll have to work and fight alongside you from now. That’s what’s wrong,” said Ahsoka.

“Hey, I defected,” said Ares. “I got… purified and swore oaths and stuff,” he added, noncommittally.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” said Ahsoka. “Separatists are all liars.”

He thought that was a fairly one-sided point of view, but, given his own acquaintances, decided he didn’t have enough evidence to rebut it. “It’s hardly my fault if I was born the son of the Head of the Confederate Government. Can you at least admit that?”

Ahsoka crossed her arms and looked him over. Had Ares been the son of any other man, he would have most likely been brought to the Temple, like her. They would have grown up together. Their close age meant that they might have been in the same padawan cell. They might have duelled and studied together and gone to Illum to get their lightsabre crystals together had circumstances been just a little bit different.

“Fine,” she conceded. “Doesn’t make me trust you more, though.”

He chuckled. “Ah, that’s good. The important thing is that it doesn’t make you trust me less.”

Ahsoka huffed. “Why are you so annoying?”

“Annoying girls until they lose their cool is my favourite hobby. Now come on, I was promised a tour. Where is it?” He had an infectious smile, she found, which added to her irritation. 

“I’m taking you to the Room of a Thousand Fountains,” she growled. “We’ll start there and move around the Temple to the Library and sparring arena.”

“Excellent. Glad your duties of hospitality are still on your mind,” he smirked. “So… how long have you been a padawan?”

She already knew where this conversation would be going. He was going to comment on how young she was to be a padawan. She had heard it so many times, not least in her own head. “A few weeks,” she answered.

He smiled as if he had his own private joke. Ahsoka prepared herself to be mocked and strategized what she’d do if he dared cross that line. “Aren’t Jedi brought to the Temple as younglings? You must have waited for a long time to have this opportunity. Is it everything you hoped it would be?” he asked.

The questions surprised her, namely because it was not the usual remark to her somewhat premature promotion. He smiled at her shocked expression – he liked watching her face. That made her scowl more. “Yes. Serving the Jedi Order is my lifelong dream,” she said.

“Don’t you ever feel… estranged? You would have had a family and a different life had you not been a Jedi, right?” he asked, though there was no mockery in his voice. It seemed almost genuine curiosity.

“Perhaps, but… that’s not the will of the Force,” she said. “Was becoming a… er- Sith Lord your lifelong dream?” She realised how absurd that question was and cursed the Council once again.

He shrugged. “I… don’t know. Can it really be a lifelong dream if I haven’t known anything else? I know that it had been my father’s dream to overthrow his master and he saw in me a weapon to get him to that goal. Well… me and another student, an assassin named Assajj Ventress – an heir and a spare, as they say. I suspect that he’ll dispatch her now to finish me off,” said Ares, glancing down at his prosthetic. It was strange that his arm was so heavy now.

“If you’re trying to get pity out of me, you won’t get it,” said Ahsoka, harshly.

“Ouch, Padawan Ahsoka, isn’t compassion the Jedi way?” he asked.

There it was. Finally. Some of that sense of self-superiority and mockery she had been waiting to rebuff. “Don’t talk about or mock things you don’t understand,” Ahsoka said, too savagely in retrospect. He threw his hands up, as if surrendering, but kept the amused smirk on his face. The girl huffed. “We’ve arrived at the Room of a Thousand Fountains,” she said, much tamer. Out of the corner of her eye, she could swear his smirk grew slightly.

She started her tour, explaining the significant landmarks of the Temple. He kept throwing in smart-arse, annoying remarks that made her burn with fury. One such remark particularly irritated her.

“So, Jedi can’t form attachments, right? Do they swear an oath of celibacy?” he asked, as if it was the most casual thing in the world. The question made something in her stomach plummet and shed blushed against her will. Her species blushed by the darkening of the stripes of their lekku and montrals. She really hoped he didn’t know the details of her species because hers was an obscene shade of dark blue. “I’m curious,” he said, feigning innocence.

“Not… explicitly, but it’s implied in the rule of no attachment. Attachment leads to jealousy, anger, hatred and the dark side,” answered Ahsoka. She hoped the dig about the dark side would distract him.

“Huh, literally no attachment,” said Ares, completely nonchalant, which only made Ahsoka blush harder.

“Can we stop talking about this?” Ahsoka asked, through gritted teeth. “This is making me uncomfortable.”

“Sore subject?” Ares asked and then he looked at her. “You do look a little unwell. But come on, even you must admit that’s a stupid rule. How can you not form attachments… emotional ones, at least, if not the unspeakable sort?”

“Why do boys only ever have one thing on their mind?” asked Ahsoka.

“I’m sure it’s on the mind of most girls as well,” said Ares. “They’re just less upfront about it. I am, at least, honest.”

“Thousands of years and generations of Jedi have not formed attachments, so that proves that it is possible, and I intend to follow that rule as well,” answered Ahsoka.

Ares smirked in a way as if he knew something she didn’t. It annoyed her. “Well, more power to you… if you can, that is. I suspect at least a few of them might have strayed a little from your treasured code.”

Ahsoka glared at him for the insult he had given to her order. At least, she thought it was an insult. “And on that thrilling moral discussion, we come to the Library,” she said and brought him to the Library, where he showed a deep interest. He claimed to have a thirst for knowledge and made a point to introduce himself to the Librarian. Ahsoka watched with crossed arms as he became the charming aristocrat who kissed hands and won over old women with charismatic remarks.

“You done?” she asked when he came back to her side.

“Rule Number One, always make friends with the librarian,” said Ares.

“Rule Number One of what? How to embarrass yourself in front of your new co-workers?” said Ahsoka.

Ares chuckled with amusement, until his eye caught something in the Library: a bust of Count Dooku as a Jedi. For the first time in the hour that she had known him, Ares’ features turned dark and he approached the stone carving. Ahsoka patiently followed him, keeping a small distance from him for privacy with the statue.

“Why is this still here?” asked Ares.

Ahsoka came closer. “He was an important member of the order at one point. Madam Jocasta always spoke fondly about him before the war. I don’t know why it’s still here, though. Perhaps as a warning of those who fall to the darkness.”

“The artist has given a poor representation. He looks nothing like that,” he said.

Ahsoka looked at the bust. It sure looked like the Count Dooku she’d seen on holograms and posters. The strong face with erudite eyes and proud, individualistic marks were all there in the sculpture, but she decided not to contradict the boy. Perhaps it was the uncanny likeness that the son had to the father that made Ares recoil. Ahsoka’s eyes found the golden prosthetic on Ares’ hand. She found herself wanting to give him something. “We’ll bring him to justice, Ares. I promise,” she said. She felt his intense, strange gaze fall on her. “The Jedi won’t allow him to remain at large for long.”

“Let’s hope,” muttered Ares. He shrugged off the darkened mood as if he shrugged off a coat. He outstretched his arm. “After you, hostess,” he said, warmly.

Some time and a few more moments of bickering later, they arrived where they started. “Here’s the boy’s dormitories. I trust you’ll find your way from here,” said Ahsoka.

“See what I mean? My theory is proving correct by the day. They’ve segregated the boy’s and girl’s dormitories. They expect you to break that rule… they expect you to fall into temptation,” Ares smirked.

Ahsoka rolled her eyes and looked away. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re hardly a temptation.”

“No?” He asked with mock-offence. “You don’t find me attractive? Tempting?”

She regarded him up and down. Over her dead body would she admit that he was indeed handsome. His sharp cheek bones and his brown eyes were pretty. His head of icy white hair made him look older than he was, which, surprisingly, made him even more attractive. He had muscle and height. He even smelt nice: a musky, smoky, masculine scent, though that was probably just the pheromones in his hair. Human hair was infuriating, thought Ahsoka privately. “No, I don’t,” she finally answered, lying, and knowing she was lying. “I find you ridiculous and arrogant and in way over your head,” not a lie.

“That’s a pity. I happen to find you very attractive,” he said, smirking, then turned around and left to his dorm. “Good night, Ahsoka,” his voice bounced around the walls.

She stood in place for a while. She had not expected that. Needless to say, she spent the whole night tossing and turning in bed, plagued by thoughts of the dark son.

[][][]

Darth Sidious had just received his daily report from the Jedi Council. Against his strong recommendations, they had granted asylum to Count Dooku’s son. They argued that this was an internal Jedi matter and that the boy would be a ward of the Jedi Order. He had no choice but to heed the Council’s wisdom.

He contacted his apprentice. “Lord Tyrannus, unforeseen developments have occurred.”

“My lord?” The hooded figure asked, confused.

“It seems that the boy has come to Coruscant. He has joined the Jedi in efforts to destroy you,” said Sidious.

Even beneath his hood, Dooku looked stunned. This was news to him. “I… I must confess that I am surprised by this behaviour. I have always taught him to despise the Jedi Order. He has never exhibited any love for them.”

“You appear to have failed,” said Sidious. “You have created an ally for our enemies.”

“I doubt it, master,” said Dooku. “The boy is too in tuned with the dark side to remain an ally for long.”

“What does he know of our plans?” asked Sidious.

“Nothing,” said Dooku, quickly. “I told him nothing. He’s a child. His training isn’t even complete.”

“Good. Whilst his presence does not impact my plans, his disobedience and treachery are… distasteful,” Sidious force gripped Dooku’s throat through the hologram. The count struggled and gasped, helplessly. “His wilful individualism and quick alliance with the Order displease me,” he said.

“I am at your bidding, master,” Dooku said, once free, on his knees. He bowed to his master.

“What about the girl, Lord Tyrannus?” asked Sidious.

“She is utterly loyal to me. To us. She will not disrupt our plans, master, I swear it,” said Dooku.

“Make her choose between you or the boy: her father and her brother. See where her loyalties truly lie,” said Sidious.

“At once, my lord,” said Dooku, bowing deeply. 

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