I'm Star-Lord (SW Xover)

C233 Dooku Vs Yaddle



C233 Dooku Vs Yaddle

C233 Dooku Vs Yaddle

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The Secluded Garden – Outside the Senate Building

“Master Yoda,” Peter greeted, his tone light. “Taking a stroll? Or did you follow me for my charming company?”

Yoda stopped a few paces away, his sharp green eyes locking onto Peter’s. “Charming, you think yourself. The Senate thinks otherwise, I suspect.”

Peter chuckled. “Well, the Senate isn’t exactly known for its sense of humor. And besides, I’ve never been one to care much much for the opinions of corrupt officials.” He leaned forward slightly, his tone turning sly. “You, on the other hand, seem to care plenty about what they think. After all, the Jedi are so subservient to them...”

Yoda’s gaze remained steady, his expression unmoving. “Corrupt, some in the Senate may be. Yet, good in their hearts, many still hold.”

Peter let out a low chuckle, crossing his arms. “Good intentions or not, it only takes one rotten apple to ruin the bunch. The system’s already decaying from the inside out—the cracks are plain to see. And when the Republic finally crumbles—and believe me, it will—you know who’s going to take the first and hardest hit?”

Yoda’s gaze remained steady, but his silence invited Peter to continue.

“The Jedi,” Peter said, his tone sharpening. “The hand that holds the tool gets dirty, not the one that commands it. You’re so tied to the Republic, so wrapped up in their politics and decisions, that when it all goes to hell, you’ll be the ones they turn on. They’ll blame you for their failures, their wars, their corruption. And you’ll be left holding the bag.”

Yoda’s cane tapped softly against the ground as he took a step closer. “Aware of the risk, the Jedi are. Yet to guide, our duty remains.”

Peter shook his head, his voice tinged with bitterness. “You’re not guiding, Master Yoda. You’re babysitting a sinking ship.”

For a moment, silence hung between them, broken only by the distant hum of Coruscant’s nightlife. Then Yoda spoke, his voice calm and deliberate. “A strong opinion, yours is...”

“Yes, but it’s the right one, and you know it,” Peter said plainly. “Balance is essential in all things, but not in a corrupt government. Corruption must be eradicated—root, stem, and all.”

Yoda’s eyes narrowed at the mention of balance. “Balance, you speak of. Curious, it is. In the Force, do you seek balance as well?”

“I see Qui-Gon has already reported back to you,” Peter said with a knowing tone.

Yoda tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “Quick to share, Qui-Gon is. Wise to listen, I must be,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “The Dark Side, Qui-Gon claims you used, when dealing with the Viceroy.”

Peter exhaled slowly, sighing. “The Force isn’t just light or dark. It’s everything. You can’t deny one side or drown yourself in the other. You have to embrace it all.”

Yoda’s ears perked as he studied Peter, his expression thoughtful. “A dangerous path, balance is. To fall, easy it becomes.”

Peter straightened, his mask retracting with a faint hiss to reveal his face, his suspicions confirmed as Yoda didn’t even blink in surprise. “I know the risks, Master. I’m not blind. But walking the middle road doesn’t make me weaker—it makes me stronger. You can feel it, can’t you?”

He extended a hand, his palm upward. The Force rippled faintly around him, a subtle yet tangible presence that pulsed with both light and dark energy. It wasn’t chaotic; it was controlled, deliberate—a harmonious blend of opposing forces.

Yoda’s eyes narrowed as he reached out with his own connection to the Force, brushing against the edges of Peter’s presence. The balance was there, precarious yet undeniable, like a tightrope walker suspended between two extremes.

“Impressive, this is,” Yoda admitted, his tone carrying a note of caution. “But cemented, balance is not. Fragile, always it remains.”

“You’ve fallen far, Dooku,” Yaddle said, her green eyes steady. “But it is not too late. You can still return to the light.”

Dooku’s lips curled into a faint, bitter smile. “Return? To what? The Jedi’s hypocrisy? Their blindness? No, Yaddle. I see clearly now. The Republic is doomed, and the Jedi with it.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Yaddle pleaded, stepping closer. “We can help you. Let us help you.”

Before Dooku could respond, Plagueis’s voice cut through the air like a blade. “Enough. She knows too much. Kill her.”

Dooku hesitated for the briefest moment before his expression hardened. He ignited his crimson lightsaber with a hiss, the red glow casting eerie shadows across his face. “I’m sorry, Yaddle. But it’s too late.”

Dooku moved with a swift, practiced grace, his lightsaber arcing toward Yaddle. She ignited her green blade just in time, deflecting the strike and spinning away.

The clash of lightsabers echoed through the hangar, green and red illuminating the dim space as Yaddle and Dooku faced off. Yaddle darted low, her small frame weaving through Dooku’s calculated strikes. Each swing of his crimson blade was precise, a masterful display of Form II Makashi, but Yaddle’s agility and Ataru technique kept her one step ahead.

For a time, they were evenly matched, Yaddle’s swift movements countering Dooku’s calculated thrusts. She spun low, aiming for his legs, but he parried effortlessly, pivoting to redirect her momentum. She rebounded into a leaping strike, her blade slicing toward his shoulder, only for him to deflect it with an almost lazy flick of his wrist.

But as the duel progressed, the tide began to shift. Dooku’s strikes grew heavier, his movements sharper, as he drew on the Dark Side. The air thickened with his rising anger, each blow pushing Yaddle further onto the defensive. Her blade flashed in a desperate attempt to block, but the relentless power of his attacks began to wear her down.

A wave of red energy crackled through the air as Dooku feinted left before delivering a powerful overhead slash. Yaddle barely managed to block, the force of the impact sending her stumbling back. She tried to create distance with a Force push, but Dooku countered with a pull, yanking her closer.

“You cannot win, Yaddle,” Dooku said, his voice low and cold. “Surrender.”

“I cannot surrender to darkness,” she replied, her voice firm despite her exhaustion. She darted to the side, slashing at his exposed flank, but he anticipated the move, spinning to counter. The clash of their sabers sent sparks flying as Dooku pressed forward.

From his throne in the hologram, Plagueis watched impassively, his interest detached as if the outcome were already decided.

With a powerful swing, he struck her lightsaber from her hands and extended his free arm, unleashing a wave of Force energy that slammed her into a stack of crates. Yaddle crumpled to the ground, winded but defiant. Her saber flew back to her hand as Dooku loomed over her, his red blade poised for the final blow.

Before he could strike, the sound of hurried footsteps filled the hangar. Dooku hesitated, turning to see a young boy with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes step into the open. “Is this the hangar?” he called out behind him, freezing as his gaze locked onto Yaddle, battered and bleeding, her lightsaber raised defensively against Dooku’s crimson blade.

Yaddle seized the moment of distraction, rolling away from Dooku’s strike and placing herself between the Sith Lord and the boy. “Run, young one!” she urged, her voice firm despite her exhaustion.

Dooku sighed, his expression turning regretful as he regarded the boy. “A child. How unfortunate.”

Before he could strike again, more voices echoed through the hangar.

“Anakin? Where did you run off to?” Padmé Amidala’s voice called, followed closely by the sound of footsteps.

The rest of the group—Padmé, Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Jar Jar Binks—entered the hangar, their eyes widening at the sight before them. Qui-Gon froze, his gaze locking onto the red blade in Dooku’s hand.

“Master,” Qui-Gon said, his voice filled with shock and disbelief. “What is this?”

Dooku turned to face his former Padawan, his expression unreadable. For a moment, the air in the hangar was heavy with tension, the echoes of clashing lightsabers fading into silence.

Behind him, Plagueis’s hologram loomed, the Sith Lord watching the unfolding scene with a faint, cruel smile.

A/N: 2034 words :)????????


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