Interlude - Rat trap.

Dooku ran. And then he ran some more. In fact he felt that all he had done the past two hours was run.

And it hadn't mattered. Not one bit.

He turned a corner, and found himself blocked by heavy arms droids, and ducked behind the wall.

This was the 32nd consecutive corridor blocked by droids.

This cannot be a coincidence. Someone was boxing him in. Like a rat. Turning his own ship into maze trap.

Who was it though?

Grevious?

He had well enough of a reason.

Dooku had been rather harsh on him recently.

Not to mention the powerplay he had failed with the jedi vermin last night.

His lack of faith in Grevious's abilities, his secret tests, and a myriad of other factors. Any of them could have pushed that glorified fur trapper off his rocker.

"Tsk! " He visibly grimaced.

Damn him.

Damn him to the depths of whatever hell he believed in.

How dare he try to take power from him? Count Dooku?

Dooku had raised that cur to his position!

And he very well could put him back in his place.

Oh the things he would do once he got his hands on him....

The whirring of motors drew Dooku out of his rage and back into the present.

Another garrison of droids moving into place, he realized.

The longer he waited, the fuller he would be trapped.

No. He wouldn't stand for it.

Dooku peeked out from behind the wall, towards the heavy droid company.

It was still a ways from him. Perhaps if he made it quick, he could fight past them. Maybe he could break through the trap.

Then he noticed it. His ragged breath.

Immediately, Dooku sat in a lotus pose, meditating.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

He had been running for the past two hours, sure. He should be tired. It was no surprise. But that his breath hadn't settled in the three minutes he had sat there?

Suspicious.

He pushed out with the force, tendrils drawing across the halls, crawling over them like vines, feeding him back whatever they felt.

Something was certainly wrong.

But he couldn't find it.

Another whirring, followed by the rythmic clanking of metallic footsteps, closer this time.

His escape was being cut off again.

There was no time to waste.

He had to make haste.

Count Dooku jumped to his feet, taking a deep breath.

Then realisation hit him like a Alethian transport cruiser.

The air!

It was thinning.

Dooku felt his blood run cold, as the implications became clear.

The droids didn't need to breathe. But he did. Whoever this was, it wasn't Grevious. This was not his modus operandi.

He was far too prideful for it.

There was no choice then.

Dooku decided. He had to break through the entrapment.

He had to show this puzzle maker that his plans wouldn't come to fruition.

Not with the Count Dooku!

His lightsaber sputtered to action, still damaged from that bounty hunter's cold weapon.

This wouldn't do. But it would have to.

He pulled on the force, bringing it to bear in the largest margin he ever had before.

This was a battle of life or death.

He empowered himself, his muscles twitching beneath the strain.

Not too long, he knew. But long enough. It would have to.

He stepped out from behind the wall, and leaned low, bursting with speed as he raced over the walls, thumping, leaving dents in the metal, whizzing past the first line of heavy droids before their sensors could react.

The second line though, was prepared.

But so was he.

He forced his lightsaber to stabilize, for the moment, burning through what was left of it's circuits.

It blazed forward, unstable, held together with only his force.

With a clean, smooth sweep, Dooku wielded it like a whip, slicing through the second line, and halfway through the first, before it burst, leaking pitch black smoke.

Dooku didn't care. It had achieved it's purpose.

He threw the now defunct lightsaber at closest droid, and stepped forward with the surety of a dead man towards those left, letting out all the force stored within him.

In a mighty breath, he exhaled, pushing the force into a bolt of manic proportions, letting it flow through, blasting the droids away.

While they tumbled, armors cracked, he felt his arms go limp, and his diaphragm bruise something fierce.

He didn't have too many of these left in him.

Not waiting to be surrounded again, he turned around, dashing out of the corridor, back towards his chambers.

Once he had his spare lightsaber, there would be no stopping him.

Avoiding another droid patrol, he found an exhaust vent.

This could work he thought, as two more companies came close, their clanking becoming the death knell for Dooku.

Using the force he grabbed at the vent grate, pulling it off, and throwing it to the floor. The noise had no doubt alerted the droids. But he didn't care.

He jumped up, pulling himself into the exhaust with the force, given the state of his arms, numb and cramped.

He didn't even bother to pull the vent grate back up. There was no point he thought.

The droids were too stupid to realize what had happened.

Something he soon found out to be wrong. The hard way.

A barrage of laser bolts cut through the ventilation system, the ionized air singing his nose.

Dooku almost panicked for a moment when the hem of his robe caught fire.

But patience he knew was a virtue.

And so he waited, with bated breath.

Minutes passed. Then nearly an hour, before the droids began to move again, back to their patrols.

Once they were out of earshot, he began to crawl again, quieter this time.

He felt a small pride at the moment.

He had personally taken part in the build of the ship, to the individual bolt and weld. He knew every nook and cranny of the ventilation vents.

Referencing the map in his memory, he crawled his way back to his room, and spotting no droids posted within, jumped in.

With one swift motion he grabbed the lightsaber on his bedside desk, and threw off his burnt robe.

Putting the lightsaber at an arm's length, he checked it's condition, switching it on and off.

It buzzed on with a blood red glow, shutting off just as smoothly.

Good. At least it worked.

Internally, Dooku made a promise to keep two sabers on his person from now on.

He would not suffer such humiliation ever again.

Little did he know, his resolve would come through, just not how he wished it would.

Grabbing his new lightsaber, Dooku walked out of the room, only to find himself surrounded on all sides.

Before he could react, they all fired together, pushing him back into the room.

If he hadn't covered himself in the force at the last moment, he would have been killed.

Dooku breathed a sigh of relief, before he heard the clanking of droids coming closer trying to open the gate.

Immediately, he thrust his saber into the control panel, melting it.

Then, he turned to the floor, and stabbed his lightsaber into it, cutting hismelf a way out below.

As he fell into the room below, his feet didn't meet the resistance he expected, only a green glow, and the barest sight of a flat pool of the same colour beneath him.

Then he found himself back in the hallway outside his room, this time though, no amount of force could have saved him.

"How?!" He gasped.

The lasers tore through his body, searing flesh, boiling blood, and Dooku fell to the floor, confused, disoriented and struggling to breathe.

The last thing he saw were odd blue red plated boots, and a medical droid leaning before him.

Then there was only darkness.