Count Dooku sat cross-legged in the center of his private chamber, the flickering glow of candlelight casting long shadows across the walls. The air smelled of incense, rich and slightly acrid, but the scent did little to quiet his mind.
Meditation, once a source of clarity, now felt like an obligation. He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly, but the stillness of the Force eluded him.
For a few months now, perhaps longer, his thoughts had spiraled through the same uneasy cycle. The Jedi Order was stagnant. He had fought for change, spoken in the Council chambers, debated with Masters whose wisdom was supposed to be beyond question. But their complacency was absolute. Their dedication to the Senate, a governing body riddled with incompetence and corruption, was unwavering.
And yet, despite seeing their flaws, despite knowing the truth of it, Dooku had stayed. For twelve years.
The realization angered him. He had been a fool, believing himself capable of bending an unbreakable institution. He had wasted time, years he could have spent… doing what?
What purpose remained for a man who had given everything to the Jedi, only to walk away with nothing?
He breathed in, drawing the Force into himself, trying to let it wash over him. But instead of peace, he was met with something else.
The sound of a child crying.
It was faint at first, an echo on the edge of his awareness. It should have been dismissed as an illusion, a trick of his weary mind, but this was not the first time he had heard it.
Dooku opened his eyes. The chamber was silent. The candles burned steadily, their flames undisturbed.
And yet, the wail persisted.
It had started two days ago. Always the same sound, a fragile, pitiful cry that faded just as he began to focus on it. He had searched for its source, considered every logical explanation. But there were no children in the palace. No infants to account for the cries that haunted him.
The Jedi would have called it a vision, a sign from the Force. But Dooku no longer trusted the Jedi's interpretation of such things. If this was the Force whispering to him, it was not the kind of message the Council would concern themselves with.
And yet, the crying continued.
Tonight, it was louder. Closer.
Dooku rose to his feet, his brown robes settling around him as he moved toward the balcony. The city of Carannia stretched below, its elegant spires bathed in moonlight. Serenno was a world of refinement, of wealth and power, yet beneath it still had its own problems.
The sound came again. This time, it was real.
Dooku stiffened, his senses sharpening. He stepped back inside, gathering his cloak. If this was some hallucination, he would settle it once and for all. He made is way out of his home and followed the crying.
The night air was crisp, carrying with it the scent of rain on stone. Dooku moved through the lower district of Carannia, his boots silent against the cobbled streets.
This was not a place he frequented. The grand halls of his family's estate were far removed from the narrow alleys and forgotten corners of the city. Yet, his feet carried him forward, guided by the force.
The crying had stopped.
Dooku paused, glancing around the alley. It was unremarkable. A narrow passage between two buildings, filled with discarded crates, rusting droid parts, and refuse. And yet, he felt… drawn.
Then he saw it.
A dented metal container, half-covered by a torn cloth. Something about it was wrong. He had seen waste bins before, but this, this was not refuse. The sensation in the Force was subtle.
Dooku stepped closer, gripping the edge of the container and peeling back the cloth.
Inside lay a child.
A girl. Small. Too small. Her limbs were frail, her skin pallid, stretched thin over delicate bones. The scent of damp cloth and cold metal clung to her, the unmistakable stench of neglect.
She did not cry. Not anymore.
Dooku stared, the weight of what he was seeing settling in his chest.
She should not have survived this. She was weak, malnourished, abandoned. And yet, she still clung to life.
There was no grand vision in this. No mystical revelation. Just a child left to die in the filth of an alley, unnoticed, unwanted.
He had once told himself that leaving the Jedi did not mean abandoning his principles. That he still sought to shape the galaxy into something better.
And yet, as he looked down at the child, he wondered if he had already begun to look away from the suffering around him.
With careful hands, he lifted her from the container. She barely reacted, her body limp against his chest.
Dooku exhaled, glancing up toward the estate in the distance. This was not a choice. It never had been. Turning away from the alley, Count Dooku carried the child home.
He moved quickly, his long strides carrying him toward the estate. The weight of the child in his arms was nothing, she was too light, her fragile form barely pressing against his chest. The night air was sharp against his skin, but he barely noticed. His mind was racing.
This was no ordinary orphan.
The alley had been silent, the streets empty, yet the force had led him there. The Force? But if that was the case, why had no Jedi sensed her?
That was the part that unsettled him. The Jedi Order had seekers, trained to find Force-sensitive children across the galaxy. They should have known. They should have taken her before she had been abandoned to die. But they hadn't.
And now, she was his responsibility.
Dooku adjusted his grip, keeping the girl close as he passed through the gates of his estate. The towering structure was illuminated by the soft glow of sconces, its polished stone and intricate architecture standing in stark contrast to the filth of the lower district.
The guards stationed at the entrance took one look at their lord and wisely said nothing. His expression alone was enough to silence any questions.
The doors opened before him, and he strode inside without hesitation. Dooku entered the estate's medical wing, his voice sharp as he called out.
"2-1B! Now."
A moment later, the medical droid wheeled into view, its photoreceptors adjusting as it processed its master's sudden arrival.
"My lord, you appear unharmed. Is there—"
"Not me. Her."
Dooku placed the child onto the examination table, stepping back just enough to allow the droid access while keeping a close watch. The girl barely stirred, her breathing shallow but steady.
The droid's scanners whirred to life, sweeping over her tiny frame. Dooku resred his arms behind his back as he watched.
The droid worked methodically, checking vitals, cataloging injuries. Then, after a long pause, its photoreceptors flickered.
"Curious," it said.
Dooku's eyes narrowed. "Explain."
The droid began "Her physiology is frail due to prolonged malnutrition, but she is stable. However, there is an anomaly in her cellular structure. Specifically, her midichlorian count."
Dooku's fingers curled slightly. He had suspected, but confirmation was something else entirely.
"How high?" His voice was measured, but there was an edge to it.
"Approximately twenty-three thousand."
Dooku stared down at the girl. Impossible.
That number was beyond rare. Even the greatest Jedi Masters did not reach such a threshold. And yet, here she was, abandoned, alone, unnoticed.
His first instinct was to question how this had happened. How had she slipped through the Jedi's grasp? Had her Force presence been suppressed? Or had the Order simply failed to find her?
But then another thought followed. Did it even matter?
The Jedi Order would take her, just as they had taken so many before. They would mold her into what they wanted, strip away anything that did not fit their design.
Dooku had seen that process firsthand. He had lived it.
And he would not allow it to happen again.
A Choice
Dooku turned to the droid. "Her condition?"
"She will recover with proper nourishment and care. However, it will take time for her body to regain strength."
That was enough.
His decision was made before he even allowed himself to consider the alternative.
The Jedi would never know she existed.
He exhaled, his mind settling into a rare moment of clarity. For years, he had questioned his purpose after leaving the Order. He had searched for a path, a way to shape the galaxy without falling into the same stagnation he had once fought against.
Perhaps… this was it.
He looked down at the girl again. She would need a name.
His name.
"Liora."
The word left his lips effortlessly, as though it had always been waiting.
The droid paused. "Designation confirmed. Liora—"
"Liora Serenno."
Not just a foundling. Not a stray. His daughter.
The droid processed the name, but Dooku was no longer paying attention. He placed a hand over the child's frail form, his expression calm now.
This was not the future he had imagined.
But it was one he would shape.
And no one, not the Jedi, not the Senate, would take it from him.
Else where in a galaxy far far away.
A soft glow lit the small chamber, each corner bathed in warm torchlight. There were three figures in the room, Hades, a soul, and the Force, though "room" might be too plain a word for such a place. Smooth marble lined the walls, and the air felt calm and gentle.
Hades stood by an ornately carved stone column, one hand resting gently on its surface. He looked nothing like the fearful depictions that mortals often used to describe him. His hair was dark and neatly kept, and though his features were sharp, his expression was calm, even caring. A subtle warmth emanated from him, an unexpected kindness for someone called the King of the Underworld.
Across from him, a faint, swirling presence hovered at about waist height, a soul awaiting its new path. It was neither male nor female, and it didn't speak with words. Yet Hades and the third being, the Force understood it perfectly.
The Force was a perplexing visitor to this realm. It wasn't from here, that much was clear. Every few moments, it changed its form. One second it looked like a small, huddled creature covered in rough fur, eyes glowing red. In the blink of an eye, it was a pale-fleshed humanoid with tall cranial ridges, then a hulking monster with spined armor. Each form came from a distant universe, a place where starships soared.
Despite these constant shifts, the Force's presence remained strong, almost overwhelming. Even Hades, who presided over countless souls and lingered at the boundary of life and death, could sense the cosmic power in this visitor. It pulsed with energy unlike anything in his own domain—something beyond even the might of the Titans.
They stood there for a time, silent except for the gentle crackle of torches. Finally, Hades inclined his head toward the soul.
"Are you certain this was your last request?" he asked softly, his voice echoing with the gentle authority of a god.
The soul pulsed with an affirmative glow. It did not speak, but both Hades and the Force understood the meaning perfectly.
"Very well," Hades continued, offering a smile that was kind, if a bit wistful. "You have made your three wishes, and I have honored them as best I can. It seems your final desire is in good hands."
Standing close to the soul, the Force gave a nod, at least, the nearest approximation of one. Just a moment ago, it had taken the form of a tall, elegant creature with pale skin and a regal posture. Now, it became a snarling beast with bony ridges along its spine. Despite its monstrous appearance, its voice was oddly serene, laced with a cosmic echo that hinted at the vastness of its power.
"One wish was simple enough," the Force said, shifting again into something scaly and reptilian. Its voice didn't change, remaining calm and resonant. "Ensuring Count Dooku never embraced the darkest path required only a gentle nudge in a single moment. Your prayer was heard."
A gentle ripple of gratitude flowed from the soul. No words were needed to express it. Hades smiled, noticing the Force's grin—if indeed that flash of fangs could be called a grin.
"How curious," the Force went on, flipping into the shape of a tall, horned alien with sleek skin. "So many beings ask for unlimited power or immortality. But you?" It paused, looking at the soul with something akin to admiration. "Your wishes were far more… reasonable. You recognized the boundaries of what could and should be changed. And so, it was done."
Hades took a step toward the soul, resting a gentle hand above it. "I must commend your choices," he said, his tone warm. "Though one may have been slightly selfish," he added with a teasing tilt of his head, "at least it was not harmful. Besides, no one can truly blame a mortal soul for wanting something personal."
The soul glimmered in a way that suggested relief or perhaps a touch of sheepishness.
The Force lowered its head, now in the shape of a massive, furred creature with tusks. "Your memory will remain intact in your new life, as is custom," it said. "That is no small boon. With it comes great responsibility."
Hades nodded in agreement, shifting his gaze between the Force and the soul. "You should know the consequences of such knowledge can be heavy. You might change events in ways you can't anticipate, and that could alter many destinies."
At that, the soul pulsed again, its essence flickering with a determination. Even without a voice, the meaning was clear: I understand, and I accept.
The Force drew back, the fur of its current form melting into metallic plating, then dissolving into a slender, insectoid shape with dark eyes. "I've done what I came to do. This place, though fascinating, is not my domain." There was almost a note of regret in its words, as if it had enjoyed this brief visit to a land beyond the stars it knew. "Balance must be maintained, and I have obligations in my own universe."
Hades stepped aside, gesturing grandly with one hand. "You have been a most intriguing guest," he said, voice light. "And a great help for this last two requests."
The Force's form shimmered again, turning into a tall, robed being that might have resembled a monk from some distant star system. "Your domain is vast, King of the Underworld," it said, "but even it has boundaries. I must respect them, just as you have respected mine."
There was a pause, as if all three of them were aware this moment was about to end. Hades placed a gentle hand on the soul, giving it a last, reassuring nod. "Go on," he said softly. "Your body awaits."
The soul seemed to gather itself. There was a sense of excitement, a little fear, but also gratitude—gratitude to Hades for guiding it, gratitude to the Force for answering the wish that shaped one man's fate, and gratitude for the life waiting on the other side.
The Force began to fade, its body dissolving in the air like starlight caught in a breeze. "Farewell," it whispered, its voice echoing from a dozen tongues at once. "I look forward to seeing what you become, and how your presence alters the story. Remember, no matter how far you travel, The force will be with you."
In a final burst of shifting shapes, it was gone, leaving only a faint afterimage in the torchlight.
Hades turned to the soul, alone now in the quiet chamber. The torches still glowed softly, and the marble walls gleamed under his gentle gaze. "It's time," he murmured. "May this new life bring you the peace and the purpose you seek."
Though the soul had no voice, its silent thanks rang clear in the silence. Then, slowly, it drifted forward, gliding toward the exit Hades gestured to with an open hand.
And with that, the soul passed beyond the threshold, leaving Hades to watch with a thoughtful expression. There was no great fanfare, no crack of thunder or swirl of shadows. Just a quiet acceptance, the air shifting faintly as if in a final goodbye.
The King of the Underworld waited a long moment before turning away. He glanced once more at the empty space where the Force had stood, then turned his gaze to the corridor the soul had taken. Though he was a god, and though he had done this countless times before, something about this particular departure left him with a lingering smile.
"Not all endings are bleak," he said to the quiet hall. "And not all beginnings start in darkness."
The torches flickered, and Hades moved on, his footsteps echoing until the chamber was empty once again.
[Here's a the first chapter for something I'll be making in the future once I finish one of the fanfictions I'm currently working on. Let me know what you think!]