Disclaimer: WOW here it is my first fanfic EVER!This does not go exactly according to the star wars storyline, but please bear with me. And PLEASE if you read COMMENT!

If I was the shield of the Jedi order, durable, blunt and strong then he was its sword elegant precise and deadly.

When hearing his name most Jedi turn their faces away in disgust, pain or anguish. For one such as he, a pillar of the order, his leaving caused a shadow of doubt to cross the mind of all those dwelling in the Temple. If he could turn, and fall from the heights into deepest depths of darkness then what would stop others from doing so as well? Those that thought in such a manner, Yoda, even I Mace Windu at times among them saw Yan Dooku as a Sentinel of light a pillar of undying hope and continuity, instead of what he, and every Jedi truly is, only human. It is however easy to judge without delving deeply. For we humans as Qui-gon likes to say are gross matter which cannot see beyond and do not wish to see behind the flesh. This then is Dooku's story.

There was a time when even I was young. Though many youngling's in the Jedi order will to their dying breath claim myths of how a bolt of lightning carved me from a mountain, and force knows where they get their wild tales of me from. When I was Knighted Master Yan as he was known to me then still had rich black hair, and eyes that like Kenobi's gleamed at times with mischief. Qui-Gon though in my age group would take many more years to accomplish his training since his sithspit wayward head kept clashing with his master's. Dooku was not Qui-gon's first master, Satin-ri-da was and although he never spoke much about her I gather he missed her greatly though attachment is forbidden to a Jedi.

As time passed on I sensed a growing rift between Dooku and Yoda. Perhaps it was Dooku's ability to shield his thoughts so well that created discomfort between him and the old troll, as Qui-gon likes to call Yoda. The files I pulled out on Yan Dooku were not classified rather they were hardly ever accessed, perhaps because many were interested in him falling then seeking out the cause of his downfall. You may have heard of many Jedi that have lived, however it is the fallen that though valued are never mentioned, and so to outsiders it may seem that we live a charmed life. In truth it is not so for the force is not to be questioned yet at times appears unjust.

Dooku's first apprentice a Twi'lek by the name of Akashi died three months after apprenticeship, mauled to death by a maghan a native species on Kortak. Though no one ever questioned her untimely departure since Dooku had taken her out of pity it was him or the Agri corps for the poor girl. And believe me for someone with his dark humor he was extremely compassionate. His second padawan I remember myself for he was only three years my senior, with light brown hair and a quick tongue. I remember being on the frequency with Master Dooku. His apprentice was dragged away by the opposition on Yarvin who were enraged at the meddling of the Republic and the Jedi. He, not able to alone retract his padawan, had begged Master Yoda for one of the three Jedi or even I a padawan still then to assist with the rescue of his ward. However the delicate political negotiations on the planet Jarbon , only 50 parsecs away, demanded our presence. We were not sent. What I felt weakly through the force he must have felt in full through the bond with his padawan. He did not explicitly state how it was they tortured him only that in the end his padawan was burned alive. I doubt he ever forgave the council for this, I doubt I would if it was my ward on the line.

It was then that I felt a wall of ice begin to form. A wall that kept his blasphemous thoughts well shielded and kept privy from others. Perhaps it was attachment then that led to his demise. Yet to claim that would be to claim that I myself never had any, and I loathe lying. The third out of five times I ever got drunk was after the death of my first padawan. Unlike Dooku I had the greater fortune of after that seeing to the knighting of the rest of my apprentices. It was Dooku who drank me under the table that day, since he was one of the only ones at the temple actually in position of acquiring choice wine due to his relations and status. I cried and he let me, I was only 25 back then, he then after I had slumped and entered a hazy trance unceremoniously dumped me into my chambers, told me my day of self-pity was over and said something along the lines off it was time for me to man up and get over it and walked out.

His third padawan lasted less than a year at a failed negotiation. It was after that an iron dome weaved itself around his mind. Qui-Gon his fourth and last apprentice attempted to weasel his way in, and although met with a staunch opposition somehow managed to find a place in the sentinel's heart. Then he died abruptly, leaving us in shock and sealing Dooku's fate. Slowly Dooku must have sunk blaming himself for every dead padawan as a failure, a knife through the heart a torch burning his soul. If only we had seen his gradual change. His shielding his darker humor as his losses piled up. We however needed a pillar and leaned on him too much I among them, not realizing that he caved in and the walls collapsed. Perhaps then he would not have fallen, exploding like a dying supernova that his spirit was.

Perhaps however, he was misjudged, he never truly sank, was never truly past redemption. For although he didn't give a firefek about Anakin it was Kenobi who kept his sanity intact. Kenobi the last piece of his dearly loved apprentice that returned prematurely into the force a shard of a diamond which was lost never to be found again. For although later I realized it was Palpatine who forbade Anakin's death, it was Dooku who forbade Obi-Wan's keeping him alive even after capture knowing that if time was bought the order would come and extract Kenobi.

Dooku's room in the temple was never touched even after he turned. As I sit now commemorating his death I pull out a bottle I nicked from his now empty room, cleared of every one of his belongings, I open a will he had left before turning. "To the Jedi order I give the Saberan plain in Sereno in the case that the Jedi need to regroup and to Obi-Wan-Kenobi I leave my lightsaber, May it serve and protect him where the force could not do so for me."

If I was the shield of the Jedi order, durable, blunt and strong then he was its sword elegant precise and deadly.