Dooku, still trying to comprehend the situation, was taken aback, but only for an instant. He found time to carefully set down his glass of Alderaanian wine while drawing his lightsaber. Ventress swung, but the count ducked.
He leapt between the two of them, kicking out at Vos while blocking Ventress’s strike with his crimson lightsaber, almost dancing between his two enemies so that they had to guard against injuring each other as they sought to slay him. Ventress cursed under her breath, executing a backflip while kicking off the ridiculous high heels. With the connection they had forged, Vos immediately picked up on her tactic, moving for a better position from which to press the attack.
As he did so, Dooku struck him. It was only a glancing blow across Vos’s left side, but he jerked, and in the blue light of the exploding fireworks Ventress saw his face contort first with pain, then harden into hatred.
Pain, she mused, makes us strong. And she knew much of pain.
Snarling, Ventress charged at Dooku, reveling in the strength of her muscles as she dealt strike after strike. Her old Master parried expertly, but she forced him back. He dodged to one side. Just as Ventress realized she had overextended, Dooku’s left hand clamped down on her right wrist and he brought up his own lightsaber. It was Ventress’s turn to seize his arm and hold the scarlet blade at bay. For an instant, the two, their faces only centimeters apart, stared into each other’s eyes in a mockery of lovers. Then Dooku heaved her up and sent her sprawling. Unable to catch herself in time, Ventress landed heavily with a grunt.
Enraged, Vos charged Dooku from behind. The Sith Lord whirled, catching Vos’s strike with his own weapon and twisting his wrist to parry. Vos countered with a feint that caused Dooku’s chest to be unguarded, and dived for the kill. Dooku twisted out of the lightsaber’s path, but for the first time since the fight began, Ventress saw awkwardness.
“You fight well for a Jedi, Vos,” Dooku said.
“I had a good teacher,” Vos retorted. He jerked his chin in Ventress’s direction as she got to her feet and began to circle Dooku. Even as he spoke the words, Ventress realized what a mistake it was.
“Ventress?” Dooku’s brows rose as he eyed her. “I…see.”
She adjusted her grip on her lightsaber. “Vos,” she warned, shouting over the explosions in the sky. “Focus! Remember what I told you!”
Ventress didn’t dare be more specific. The less Dooku knew, the better. Vos’s brown eyes narrowed, and with an incoherent cry, he charged. But the dynamic had shifted; Ventress could feel it. Dooku no longer appeared the least bit unsettled. He looked like a man who had drawn a winning card in a sabacc game. Ventress felt a chill that had nothing to do with the crisp night air or the light gown she wore.”