Chapter Text
He looks down on the Jedi, surrounded, vulnerable, delicate. They look delectable, eatable even. They're sweating, pacing. They're trapped, cornered. Something is wrong. The look frantic. He sniffs the air. Sweet, sugary, liked a baked good. Like an omega in heat. He brushes off the thought. The Jedi have no secondary designation. They're null. It's part of what makes them so unnatural. But looking down on them, they don't look like the mighty warriors of his enemy. They look vulnerable, endangered.
Dooku looks down at the surrounded Jedi, perplexed. It angers him for no reason. Inside his alpha paces. The sickly sweet scent intensifies. Then, it solidifies. The first to drop is Skywalker. He's young. There is a layer of sweat covering his body. He can see that from here. The boy falls to his knees, his lightsaber drops from his hand, and extinguishing as it falls. A high-pitched whine breaks forth as his knees hit the ground. Next to him, the Jedi from Kamino falls next, his face twisted in anguish. His cry of pain and fear triggers something in his hindbrain. Then the Jedi start toppling like dominoes. The senator falls next, her face a mix of shock and confusion. Beside him, Nute Gunray cheers in triumph. It angers him enough that a growl escapes him before he has a chance to realize or stop it. The next to collapse is a Togruta Jedi. The Kel Dorin Jedi falls next, then Windu. He seems the most distraught. Dooku looks disgusted, confounded, concerned. He follows his line of sign to one of older Jedi. A human male with long gray hair tied back with a leather cord. The man kneels, curled over. His right hand is clutching his lower abdomen, his left hand claws the sand beneath his fingers. It takes him a second to place him. Jinn, Dooku's former student. He's not looking at them. His eyes are squeezed shut, his mouth a tight line. He's gone white, but a red flush has started to spread over his body. Dooku hesitates for a second before raising his hand. The droids move, aiming for the vulnerable group below. He doesn't think, just reacts. He's on the ground before he can realize it. Two discharges of his blaster and the BW battle droid drops to the floor in pieces. He doesn't take the time to look back at the Jedi. He just yells at them to run. They don't move, so he grabs the nearest one, a blue twi'lek, and shoves her towards the exit. Slowly, the others responded. He's in a state. All he sees is red. His need to protect the vulnerable omegas outweighs everything else. The Jedi stumble through the exit. It won't lead them out of the arena, but it's safer than the battleground. He sees the senator pulling the others to safety. From the corner of his visor, he sees Dooku leading the others away. Boba watches him, confused and scared. Without a second thought, he activates the jetpack and takes off. Boba is prepared. He grabs his son under the arms and pulls him up. The last of the Jedi make it to the shelter. He sees two start closing the doors. He twists and flies in at the last second. He lands, pushing Boba into a small alcove before turning back to the door. He helps the senator and one of the Jedi push the heavy metal door shut. He lifts the drawbar and slides it into place. For a second, he just breathes. Instincts run haywire. Through the camera, he watches the senator stumble over to the group of Jedi on the back wall. Some sit leaning against the wall, others kneel or curl onto their sides.
He yanks his helmet from his head. Immediately, the scent of sweet omegas in heat invades his nostrils. He growls, his senses are going nuts. He turns to the senator, growls at her to stay put, and to keep the others inside. She nods, bowing her head. He's too far gone to realize he's barked using his alpha cords. He stocks away, slamming his bucket over head. He inspects the place. It seems to be a holding pen. There's only one other door that's easily locked and barricaded from the inside. He turns back to the group. Some have started stripping down. There is a pile of robes and tunics forming in the center. He finds a water station and rags. He makes the water as cold as it can get. Amidala comes to his side. He growls at her. She responds with a whine. He sends her to help the others undress. If he were more with it, he'd worry about their comfort before undressing them. If he was truly with it he would care at all. He returns to the main room shortly after. Amidala has undressed, leaving her in just a bra and panties. The other Jedi have stripped down, leaving them in basic undergarments. He passes out the cool cloths. Boba has curled up and fallen asleep in the alcove. Some younger Jedi, padawans that's the term, have joined him. No doubt from the sheer amount of mating hormones being pumped through the air. The Jedi have unconsciously begun to nest, their removed clothing layers being bundle in to vaguely circular shape. Outside, the noise has stopped and retreated. His mind started to fade as the hormones reach his inner alpha. He removes his armor until he left in his flysuit and boots. The Jedi looked at him, confused and scared. Something has changed. The Jedi no longer stand apart. The null status of their secondary designation had shattered. The Jedi are now a group of heating omegas.