Of course that was not why he had come to see him today.
"I need a favor," Dooku said.
"Anything I have is yours," Eero declared.
"I need your code card to the C level transport hallway," Dooku said.
"Except that," Eero said.
Dooku said nothing. He just waited.
Eero fiddled with a flexible antennae. "Okay, why?"
"A Padawan exercise," Dooku said. "I need the element of surprise, and that passage overlooks the All Planets Market. There's also an exit with a turbolift straight down to market level. We can use it as a base."
"But it's restricted to Senate personnel."
"That's why I need your access card," Dooku said patiently. Eero's fault as a scholar, he recalled, was that he had trouble putting different facts together to reach a conclusion. He noted the reluctance on Eero's face. Maybe he should offer a favor as an exchange. This was the Senate, after all.
"I'll help you with that Tolfranian brief that's giving you so much trouble," Dooku offered.
Eero looked torn. "I could use the help. But I could get in trouble with Senate security if I give you the code card. It could go on my record. On the other hand, this brief is really important to my boss…"
Eero began to fiddle furiously with both antennae now, twirling them around his fingers until they sprang loose in coils. "Okay," he finally said in a rush of breath. He tossed the code card to Dooku.
"I'll have it back to you by this evening," Dooku said, hurrying out.
Now I have you, Lorian. You won't beat me.
The plan worked perfectly, for a while. Dooku and the team had a perfect view of the muja fruitseller from a window in a storage area.
They could clearly see the bustling market and the fact that Lorian and the Gold Team members had set up several stakeout areas. They were waiting for Dooku to strike. Dooku knew that Lorian believed the Blue Team would make an aggressive first move. It was usually how Dooku began a lightsaber battle. But a trademark move could betray you. It was better to mix up tactics. Lorian had no idea that he, too, had a trademark move. When he began to lose a battle, he made a deliberately wide pass to the left, then spun around to his opponent's rear. This gave him precious seconds to catch his breath and compose his mind.
Dooku sent out his group in pairs. They communicated by comlink. From their perch above they were able to track the evasive procedures the other team employed. It was easy to direct their team members below.
With a slight touch of the lightsaber, one after another, Gold Team members went down. Each hit was recorded on everyone's datapad.
They were winning. Lorian's team had managed to hit only one Blue Team member, and they'd taken out five of his.
Then Lorian must have figured out what they were doing.
Suddenly Dooku saw two Gold team members running toward the turbolift.
Unable to access it, they began to use their cable launchers to scale the glass tube. They would find a way in. That left three Gold members. If Dooku were Lorian, he would try to ambush them at an exit.
Or Lorian would go for the muja fruit while he was running from him.
No, Dooku thought. Lorian knows the Senate well. He will think he can catch me here.
Just in case, Dooku barked into his comlink at his two team members in the market. "Guard that fruitseller. We have to abandon the surveillance post." He turned to the remaining six members of his team. "Let's get out of here."
The team members raced out of the storage unit. There was only one other way down — through the turbolift that connected to the Senate main halls. Dooku thought rapidly as the turbolift sank downward.
Lorian had also attended seminars in the Senate. Lorian knew the building even better than Dooku. Lorian loved poking around in places he shouldn't. If he didn't know before that this turbolift led to only two exits, he had no doubt made it his business to know. It would have been easy to access a Senate map and find out.
Dooku reached out and pressed the button to stop the turbolift. "We're not getting out," he told the others. "We're going up."
He leaped up and balanced on the handrail. He accessed the escape hatch at the top and climbed up. Above his head was a door leading to a Senate level. A training lightsaber did not have the power of a true lightsaber, but it could most likely get through the metal door over his head.
He worked his lightsaber along the seam of the door. "Galinda, Hran, I need some help," he called down as he worked.
The two Padawans squirmed up through the opening. They got out their lightsabers to help him. Within minutes they had peeled back the metal just enough for them to squeeze through.
They crawled through the opening. Dooku saw an orientation kiosk and hurriedly accessed the Senate map. He found the fastest route to an exit.
"We have about three to five minutes before Lorian figures out that we're not coming out of that turbolift and we're no longer in hallway C," Dooku said. "That's enough time to buy some muja fruit, I think."
Stained and dirty now from the turbolift tunnel, the rest of the team grinned as they tucked their lightsabers into their utility belts.
Winning was so close now they could taste it.
They ran down the hallway toward the exit. They burst into the open air and ran in the direction of the market. The sun was high overhead now, but clouds were beginning to gather. Shade and shadow dappled them as they dodged shoppers and carts and made their way toward the fruitsellers.
Suddenly Dooku wished they had formed a plan before they'd charged into the market. They were all running full-tilt, all of them hoping to be the first to buy a muja fruit and get it back safely to the Temple. He had lost his focus because the end was so near.
His datascreen flashed. His other two Blue Team members, the ones in the market, had been hit. Lorian hadn't set up an ambush in the Senate after all.
"They're in the market!" Dooku yelled. "Split up!"
A blur of red, then green came to Dooku out of the corner of his eye.
He stopped so quickly he almost fell backward into a display of children's toys. Members of the Gold Team were charging at his team, their lightsabers held discreetly at their sides, but ready to strike.