Cut Strings
by unspeakablehorror

Cut Strings

unspeakablehorror

Summary

After his success in an important battle, General Grievous is made an offer he can't refuse in the form of upgrades to his cyborg body. But the surgery is more than what it seems, and leads to some startling revelations about Count Dooku and Darth Sidious. 

Notes

Battle At Raxus

Notes

A/N: Welcome to my General Grievous wish-fulfillment fan-fiction! This is going to be my own little AU version of the prequels time period. I will be drawing heavily on both the cell-shaded traditional animation Clone Wars series and the CG Clone Wars series, both of which I enjoy intensely for their own unique contributions. I'm going to freely mix canon and legends continuities as well. And sometimes I'll just change things as it suits me, since this is my own personal AU. While I hope to remedy some of the issues I had with the actual prequel movies in this story, fixing them all would be a monumental task that I doubt I will manage to accomplish, though I will certainly make the effort!

EDIT: Oct 4, 2018: I have edited the tags to include important platonic relationships in the story. Please note that any relationship tags using '&' reference platonic relationships, as is the intended purpose of the & symbol in relationship tags.

General Grievous flipped away from the Jedi Knight, simultaneously blocking his onslaught of lightsaber blows with his own two lightsabers.  The Jedi’s blue lightsaber flashed against the blue and green weapons Grievous favored.

“In the name of the Republic, you will be brought to justice,” the Jedi said somberly. Grievous laughed as he fought the Jedi and his contingent of clone troopers.  His foot clutched the helmet of one of the clones and he threw him far into the distance as he flipped through the air slicing off another clone’s hands in a smooth motion.  Then he directed his attention back to the Jedi again, pressing forward in a swift and fluid offensive. “Empty words, Jedi,” the cyborg general rumbled.  He felt the implacable anger that the appearance or even mention of the Jedi always caused in him, but he had turned that anger into a precise and lethal weapon, rather than the weakness the Jedi believed it to be. Of course, he wasn’t beyond trying to see if he could get a rise out of them, either.  Count Dooku had said that the Jedi never felt more off-balance than when they felt themselves pulled by their own fear and anger. So as Grievous continued making short work of any clone troopers who got too close and deflecting the blaster shots of the more cautious ones, as well as pushing an offensive towards the lone Jedi Knight, he also attempted a psychological jab at his current prey. “But perhaps you can use those words to comfort your padawan when you join him in death.” He saw the face of the Jedi twitch in anger, though to his disappointment his opponent did not explode with rage as they sometimes did.  The Jedi did strike more forcefully now, though, changing his fighting style from defensive to offensive. As Grievous twisted and turned in all directions, he also used the movement as an opportunity to observe his surroundings on all sides, constructing a 360 degree view in his mind of the battlefield.  It was with that view in mind that he hit the Jedi hard enough on the right side to drive him physically backward as he rotated his own body fluidly around the knight, placing his opponent directly in line of the blaster fire from a clone trooper who had undoubtedly meant to hit Grievous instead. The clone cried out in dismay as the Jedi was felled by the bolt.  Grievous took the opportunity to take his ever-present anger out on the Jedi’s collapsed form.  If the bolt hadn’t killed him, he was certainly dead now.  Then the cyborg grabbed the Jedi’s lightsaber from the ground with his foot and, in one fluid motion brought it around to kill the clone trooper who had accidentally killed his commander as he tried to attack Grievous.  The battlefield was silent.  Around Grievous there was a ring of death. He took a moment to savor his victory, but also to feel disappointment.  Kenobi would never have gone down so easily.  The Jedi Master was his most hated foe, but also his most respected.  They had dueled countless times, neither able to best the other. Blaster fire sounded in the distance,  catching the immediate attention of the cyborg general.  His attention immediately switched back to his main objective.  He turned and moved towards the estate in the distance, leaving his ship, the Soulless One, as well as the cargo shuttle attached to it, guarded by his silent and deadly magnaguard.  As much as he would like to seek out other Jedi to kill, Dooku’s instructions for this mission were clear--his first priority was to rescue the Parliament members who had been stranded on Raxus by the Republic’s surprise attack.  He was to attack only those who got in his way until that mission was completed. Still, if he were lucky, perhaps there would be more Jedi who would ‘get in his way’.

Grievous crested the hill and reached the sprawling estate.  The ostentatiousness and unnecessary luxury of the place struck Grievous as distasteful, but then the Separatist Parliament did mostly consist of the rich and the privileged.  In any event, he was uninterested in the politics of his benefactors. His only duty was to carry out their orders, his only reward to be given the chance to decimate the Jedi Order. As he approached the entrance he watched for any lurking foes.  However, it appeared that the Republic hadn’t reached this area yet.  He pressed the alert button at the door panel and waited. A human woman opened the door, looking up at him with wide eyes.  From the records he had accessed from his ship’s computer before traveling to Raxus, he identified her easily. “Senator Bonteri,” Grievous said.  “I’ve come to evacuate the Separatist Parliament members stranded on your estate.” “Oh!  You--you must be General Grievous,” she said, seeming to recover her equilibrium. Come with me!  I’ll let the others know you’re here.” She ran back into her estate and Grievous treaded easily after her.  He followed her down a spiral staircase into what appeared to be a basement.What a terrible place to hide. If the Republic had reached the estate, the occupants would have been trapped in their current location.  Not that he imagined many of them were fighters, anyway. Finally they reached a door at the end of a long hallway.  The senator keyed in a code to open it and they entered to find a large group of senators and dignitaries huddled behind crates or under a large table that took up most of the center of the room.  Grievous sighed.  Ten of them, counting the Bonteri woman and her spawn.  This was going to slow him down considerably. “General Grievous is here to rescue us,” Senator Bonteri said urgently. “Let’s go,” Grievous said.  “I’ve put down a shuttle not far from here.” “That’s good news!” San Hill said, rising from behind a crate and dusting his robes off.  “This planet has become a death trap!” Grievous turned and walked back towards the stairs.  He heard the footsteps of the panicked people following behind him. They walked through the grounds of the estate.  In the distance, Grievous could hear blaster fire.  Nearby, he could detect the heat signatures of the group behind him, following his long stride as best they could. As they approached his ship, he could see the battle had already reached the Soulless One again.  He took out four lightsabers, spinning two of them above him and holding the other two out in front of him. One of the Senators, a blond human man dressed in red and gold, let out a wail of despair.  “We’re all going to die!” Grievous snapped at the panicking senator.  “QUIET!” This, unfortunately, did not have the desired effect, and the man began to shriek.  Grievous would have killed him then and there if Dooku hadn’t made clear that he would consider that a failure on Grievous’s part. Bonteri spoke then, her voice dripping with disdain.  “Stop snivelling, Lestur.  You wouldn’t want to break the General’s concentration, would you?” The man quieted down quickly after that, and Grievous was able to concentrate his attention on the group of clone troopers guarding his ship. “I will handle this,” Grievous said.  “Stay behind me.”  He walked over to the clones.  “Surrender or die,” he said simply. The clones fired a barrage of blaster fire towards him.  He blocked the shots with his lightsabers, managing to reflect some of the bolts back at the clones. “I see you mean to die, then.” He leapt over to them and unleashed a barrage of lightsaber attacks that made short work of the clone troopers.  He guessed that there hadn’t been time for the Republic to learn of the death of the Jedi Knight who had attacked him earlier, and that the clones had simply been intended to reinforce the now deceased Jedi.  He defeated all ten of them easily. Then he mentally activated the boarding ramp to the shuttle and gestured for the Separatist Parliament members to enter with him. Remotely activating the autopilot on his ship, he initiated the takeoff sequence from the planet’s surface.  Within minutes they had reached orbit around the planet. The Bonteri child gasped, pointing out the airlock window.  “Is that--is that the Soulless One?” “Yes,” General Grievous said.  “This transport shuttle has been attached to my personal fighter for the purposes of completing this mission.”  He motioned to the shuttle seating arrayed around them.  “You may wish to prepare yourself for the hyperspace jump.  I will need to pilot the ship personally until we pass the Republic blockade.” He walked into the airlock, closing the door behind him.  He prepared himself for what would happen next by sealing off his airholes and the eyeholes of his mask, flicking their transparisteel covers down like a pair of transparent eyelids.  He heard a tap on the door behind him.  Looking through the clear transparisteel window, he saw the face of the Bonteri child squashed against the window, watching with interest.  Having ascertained that the sound was not a threat, nor of any importance, he then opened the door in front of him to the vacuum of space. Using his magnetized feet, he walked across the surface of the Soulless One and then settled into the cockpit. His clawed fingers keyed in the commands to enter hyperspace.  The hyperspace countdown sequence commenced, though several Republic ships began attacking him soon afterward.  It seemed they had finally broken through the network of Vultures assigned to defend his ship and its cargo of Senators.  One of his pursuers in particular stood out as being extremely difficult to shake.  Grievous wondered with some interest if it was a Jedi that gave it its unerring direction.  He knew the clones could never keep up with his maneuvers.  Still, he had his orders.   He kept up his evasive maneuvers until he saw the signature blue lines of hyperspace in front of him. I’ll be back for you later, Jedi.

The trip back to the ship from his fighter had been uneventful.  Hyperspace did not feel to him significantly different than regular space, despite the numerous superstitions to the contrary.  His return to the shuttle was swift, though it seemed that one of the shuttle’s occupants was feeling--excessively talkative. “--and did you know that it’s a customized Belbullab-22 fighter? It has the triple laser cannons of course, but the best part is--” the Bonteri child said, stopping abruptly when he noticed Grievous’s presence. “Er, hello sir.” “I have been instructed to brief all of you on the situation,” Grievous said, pacing around them.    “I expect we will be in hyperspace for three standard days.” “Three days?” One of the senators said.  His expression was horrified.  “In this awful thing?” The Bonteri child looked delighted, however.  “Really?” Grievous sighed.  “Yes.” He couldn’t help thinking what a waste of time this was.  If he hadn’t had to take on all this dead-weight, he could have stayed in the battle. “The shuttle was outfitted with this eventuality in mind.  You will find all supplies required for your survival over there,” Grievous said, gesturing briefly to several crates. “But--there’s nowhere to sleep!” Grievous looked over at the Senator who had spoken.  The human looked both horrified and indignant, crossing his arms and looking up at the cyborg general. “I didn’t say anything about your comfort,” Grievous responded.  “Be grateful that you will live another day, Senator.  Now, in the interests of conserving space, I’m going to return to the cockpit of my fighter.” “Ah, General?”  Grievous turned back to face Senator Bonteri, who looked up at him with a smile.  “I just wanted to thank you for all you’ve done today.  Lux and I are safe because of you.  Please know that you are always welcome at the Bonteri manor.” Grievous inclined his head politely, though the invitation held no appeal to him.  “Thank you.” He turned again towards the cockpit. It was at that moment that San Hill spoke up.  “General Grievous,” he said.  “I also wanted to express my immense gratitude for your help.” “Very well,” Grievous said, his tone dismissive. Gratitude is only so many empty words. The Muun smiled nervously.  “No, truly.  If there is something you would like in return, please don’t hesitate to ask.  You saved my life, after all.  I'd say that means you've been an excellent investment.” Grievous finally turned to face the leader of the Intergalactic Banking Clan and narrowed his eyes.  “Really?  Five more fleets of ships and an entire armada of magnaguards, perhaps?” San laughed.  “You’re thinking too small, my friend.  Of course, you can have that as well if you want.  But I was thinking more along the lines of--upgrades to your current cyborg infrastructure.  Let me know if you have an interest in that.” Grievous tilted his head.  “You know of a way to improve upon my current abilities?” He needed an extra edge over the Jedi.  If there was some enhancement that could give him that, perhaps he could finally fell one of the great Jedi Masters... “Yes, considerably so,” San Hill said.  “When this is over, please don’t hesitate to contact me.” “I will take you up on that offer,” Grievous said. “Excellent,” the Muun said.  “I promise, you won’t be disappointed.”

The Extra Upgrade

Notes

A/N: Writing this cranky cyborg's attempts at anger management is probably going to be one of my favorite parts of this.

The ten Separatist rescuees reached Geonosis, where the general dropped them off.    Shortly after that, he had a talk with San Hill as to what kind of upgrades the Muun had in mind.

“What changes will you be making?”  Grievous said.

“Allow me to explain. I recall that you were quite disappointed to learn of your complete lack of force sensitivity.”

“Of course I was!  What of it?”  Grievous said irritably.  Of all the things for the Muun to bring up, why did he have to choose that?

“Well, what if I told you that there was something I could do about that?”

“What could you possibly do?  Even Count Dooku couldn't give me the power of the Force!”

“Well, it wouldn't be the Force, per se, but it would give you more of the abilities that the Jedi possess.  Imagine if you could pull metallic objects to you, or shock someone with electricity with the power of your mind alone!”

“You could do that?  Give me those abilities?”

“Easily, why I'm astounded we didn't think of it before!  The magnetic pull ability is just a simple refinement of your current magnetic implants.  And while an electric modulator with that much power is certainly expensive, there is nothing technologically complex about it.  It might take you a while to accustom yourself to the new abilities, but they will surely be easier to master than using four arms simultaneously!  Some simple additions to your motor cortex will be needed, and a few tweaks here and there.  General, you are a marvel of engineering, but these simple improvements may just be the edge you need against the Jedi!”

“More upgrades,” Grievous said.  “Yes, I think you're right.  I want these changes completed immediately.”  He laughed then, already thinking what a nasty surprise his new abilities would be for the Jedi,

San Hill nodded and promptly arranged for the procedure to obtain the upgrades he had promised.  Grievous was ushered to the medical room and a medical droid gestured to a metallic slab.  The cyborg general settled himself onto it.

San Hill walked up to him.  “I hope you will find the upgrades to your liking.”

“If they help me decimate the Jedi Order, then they will be very much to my liking.”

San Hill smiled. “I think they will.”

The medical droid said,  “Please be very still, General.  This will be a very delicate operation.”

The General complied.  The droid carefully removed his facemask.  Grievous winced at the sensation.  When the action was completed, however, he simply stared straight ahead, his mind moving to strategies for upcoming battles.  It was as he was pondering how to successfully take Kamino, that something very unusual happened.  He fell asleep.

Grievous blinked his eyes blearily.  In front of him he saw the faces of San Hill and the medical droid.  “What--happened?”

“The procedure was a success!” San Hill said briskly.  “Perhaps you should practice your new abilities.”

Grievous stepped off the metal operating slab.  “Something seems wrong,” he said.  His mind seemed--noisy.  Where before there had been little but thoughts of strategy and killing Jedi, now he found it difficult to focus.  He tried to think of the Kamino battle again, but his mind wandered to Dooku and his constant admonitions of the cyborg’s battle tactics and what the Count thought of as ‘distasteful obsessions’, such as the General’s collection of lightsaber trophies.  Then he thought of how strange the medical droid standing passively at his side seemed compared to his own, with a blandly pleasant personality instead of a scathingly sarcastic one.  And suddenly, his mind thought of how long it had been since he had seen his homeworld of Kalee.

Kalee.  He had been going to travel there before the accident.  That had been years ago.

The accident.  Floating in a bacta tank, completely helpless.  Kalee again.  Death.  Pain.  Fear.

He growled, clutching his head.What's wrong with me?

“General?” San Hill said nervously.

Grievous turned on him.  “You botched something!”

The Muun frowned.  “What do you mean?”

Grievous picked him up by his collar and pulled him off the ground.  Bringing his mask mere centimeters from the Muun’s face, he growled, “What did you do to my mind?!”

San’s hands clutched at Grievous’s metallic arm desperately.  Dangling helplessly in front of the cyborg, he squeaked something in the Muun language and then in panicked Basic said, “Please, let me explain!”

Grievous slowly placed the Muun back on the floor.  “Very well.  You had best do so quickly, for your sake.”

The Muun grimaced, rubbing at his neck.  “You're probably experiencing what the medical droid referred to as memory backlash.  It's happening because I had the med droid remove the control chips Dooku had placed in your mind. I also instructed it to heal the damage they had caused,” San Hill said quickly. “It might seem overwhelming right now, but I was told you should adjust to the changes soon.”  He held up his hands defensively. “Please don’t kill me.  I was only trying to uphold my end of our agreement.”

Grievous snarled.  “If that were truly the case, then how did I end up with such alterations in the first place!”  He had specifically said that no one was to alter his mind!  It had been in the verbal agreement that San had accepted in lieu of a written contract.

“It was Dooku’s idea, not mine!” San Hill said, his eyes wide.  “He would have killed me if I hadn’t allowed him to perform that procedure.  Then I wouldn’t have been able to redress his breach of contract at all!  I had to let him go through with it.  But that’s why I concocted this pretext to operate on you.  I was just trying to uphold my end of our agreement, I swear!”

“So the other changes--”

“Are quite real!  But my main purpose in this procedure was to remove Dooku’s blocks.  I couldn't give you back the connections you had before, but eventually the new brain matter will form proper connections between your old memories instead of indiscriminately transmitting them as they did just now.”

Grievous could feel anger boiling inside of him.  The thought that Dooku might have resorted to such trickery had never occurred to him.  Grievous would have agreed to serve Dooku willingly without the need for such manipulation.  The promise of destroying the Jedi who had helped ravage his homeworld was more than sufficient to motivate him.  That Dooku had still betrayed him in a such a way was unforgivable.  “Tell me more about these--control chips.”

“I don't know his exact motivations.  But I do know that Dooku wasn’t content to hold you to your honorable word.  Perhaps it’s because he has no honor himself, or perhaps he just needed to feel he had complete control over you.  So he greatly reduced your ability to reflect on your past, and increased your aggression so you wouldn’t have control over it.”

Grievous growled and struck out at a control panel with a flash of lightning.  The panel crackled and exploded in a burst of sparks.  He blinked in surprise, looking at the fingers on his hand. He had just performed an attack with Force lightning.  Well, a passable imitation of it, anyway.  He hadn't expected that to be so—easy.

“Ah, I see the electrical modulator works,” San said, chuckling nervously.  “Why don't you try the magnetic resonance additions?”

Grievous nodded curtly and held out the same hand towards one of his lightsabers, which lay on a table near the operating bed.  Concentrating on pulling it towards him, he felt a surge of satisfaction when the lightsaber flew directly into his hand.  He had to root himself to the floor with the magnetic resonators in his feet to keep himself from being pulled towards the metal table, however, which was itself fortunately bolted to the floor.  Concentrating again, he stopped the magnetic pull from his hand.

“Hmmm, perhaps you'll need a bit of practice with the intensity of the pull, but you're doing an excellent job!”

Grievous laughed.  “The Jedi will learn the meaning of true fear now,” he said.

San said,  “Yes, I'm certain they will.”

“But first, there is the matter of Dooku,” Grievous said, clasping his hands behind his back.“His greed seems to know no bounds.  He must die.”

“I agree,” San Hill said.  “Count Dooku seeks only his own enrichment.”

Grievous narrowed his eyes at him.  “You have room to talk.”

The Muun met the General's steely gaze this time.  “I may be self-interested, but I don't discard people on a whim,” the Muun said.  “When I first joined the Separatists, I thought Dooku's leadership would benefit us all.  But the more I saw of his decisions, the more I realized that everyone,everyone has but a limited use to him.  And once that use has ended, they become—expendable.  I have no interest in waiting until his use for me runs out.”

“So you helped me for your own purposes, then.”

“Yes,” San Hill said.  “But also because I never go back on my word.”

Eyes still narrowed, Grievous said, “You do have some honor, I suppose, even if I find you highly distasteful.”

“Yes, well, I feel the same about you, General,” San said.  “It seems we must trust each other's sense of honor in this, after all.  You will need my help.  And I need yours.  I can hardly expect to destroy Count Dooku myself, after all. If I may ask, how do you intend to destroy him?  As I understand, Sith are nearly indestructible.”

“Preferably by arranging for his ship to meet an unfortunate accident during battle,” Grievous said.  “If I can make it appear like a Republic attack, all the better.  Facing him directly would be--unwise.”  The Sith Lord had outmatched him in all their sparring battles.  But that had been under controlled circumstances, when the Count knew he was fighting the General.    Grievous planned instead to use deception and surprise to kill Dooku.

“And, ah, what of Sidious?” San Hill said.

“I shall need to know if Sidious knew of this deception as well,” Grievous said.  His golden eyes turned to bore into the Muun banker.  “Perhaps you might know the answer to that question.

San Hill swallowed.  “Yes, I do.  He knew everything.  He even praised Dooku for conceiving the plan.”

Hatred boiled inside Grievous, but he shackled his emotions this time instead of lashing out. I can control my anger now.  It is my weapon, not Dooku's.

“Then I shall ensure he meets his end as well,” Grievous said.  “That will take some deception on both my part and yours.  We must draw this more elusive Sith to us carefully.  But first, I will need to kill Dooku.”

“If I may ask, what will happen to the Separatist government if you succeed?” San Hill said.

Grievous shrugged.  “That is not my concern.  I believe the Parliament has some sort of laws in place to cover such an eventuality.”

“Yes, ah, they vote for a new chancellor, while using the next person in the order of succession for the interim chancellor.  But losing Dooku so suddenly would put them in upheaval.  It would cause chaos--”  San stopped and looked up at the General's blazing gold eyes.

“I mean it might give the Jedi an advantage,”  San said.

Grievous's eyes narrowed.  “I will personally shield the Parliament from any and all attacks, whether they be Jedi or Sith in origin.  I will serve their wishes, as long as they do not keep me from mine.  That was our agreement, after all.”  For the first time in a long time, however, Grievous had more than one wish.I need to return to Kalee, explain to them what happened to me, see if I can—be of service to my people. It was for the Kaleesh that Grievous sought to wreak vengeance upon the Jedi in the first place.  Dooku had made him forget that.  Well, not forget it, exactly, but his thought processes had been so thoroughly sabotaged as to prevent him from from doing anything about it.  The memories had all been there, just almost entirely disconnected from his planning ability.  He wondered now if that had been why Dooku had seemed so displeased whenever Grievous had made any reference to his culture or homeworld, such as having his magnaguards wear the signature capes of the Izvoshra or when he had had the statues of himself done in his private fortress.

Turning his thoughts back to the present, he looked down at the Muun thoughtfully.  “In any event, I'm sure you are aware of the need for secrecy in this matter,” Grievous said.

“Yes,” San Hill said.  “Very much so.”

This is the Droid You’re Looking For

Notes

Chapter Notes

A/N: Since Obi-Wan is going to feature quite a bit in this story, I've added him to the character search. I just didn't want to add him to the search until I had added him to the story. I will probably add some other major characters to the search as they pop up as well, though I'm not entirely sure yet who I want to be the most prominent ones. Expect a lot of characters from both the Clone Wars series to appear, however.

Also,while I anticipate some sort of romance later in the story (though at this point I don't want to say too much about that), I'm not sure how much of an element that will be in the story overall because, um, well-I'm just going to come right out and say this-I've never written cyborg smut and I don't know how. Which is why I didn't add romance as a search category for this story. Well, it's not so much the cyborg thing, actually. More specifically, the problem is that Grievous is a cyborg designed for killing people and not much else. His body is supposed to be based on the Krath war droids, designed by the ancient Sith for destruction, death, and, ah, dying painfully. Nowhere does that really overlap well with sexy fun times. But hey, if I do somehow figure that out, I'll add it as a category.

Grievous stood before his master. Former master, he corrected himself.  He will pay for his treachery. Grievous ached to attack him now, but knew he did not have the advantage in this moment.  And failure was not an option.

“Ah, General Grievous, I see you have returned.  You're late.”  Dooku's dispassionate expression still managed to convey his annoyance.

“My mission was successful,”  Grievous said.  “My ship required servicing, so I spent some time planet-side until the repairs could be completed,” he lied.

“You could have taken another ship,” Dooku said, raising an eyebrow.

“My ship is far superior to any stock ship the Geonosians could offer,” the General scoffed.  “Anyway, I will not leave my valuable possessions for them to steal!”

Dooku only frowned.  “I sent you a message.  You didn't answer.”

Grievous didn't falter.  “One of the Geonosians dropped my communicator when they collected it from the ship for me.  It was destroyed by the fall.  As the ship's computers had already been brought down for the repairs, I had no way to receive your message.”

Dooku's frown deepened.  “Well, I have a new assignment for you.”

“Of course.  What is your bidding, my master?”

“I have received word from Darth Sidious of General Kenobi's current location,” Count Dooku said.

Rage flared in Grievous.  “Where?!  Where is he?!”

Dooku smiled calmly.  “Travelling,” he said.  “His location is supposedly a well-guarded secret, but Sidious has discovered that he is on Alderaan with Senator Organa.”

“I will kill him,” Grievous said.

“If you can manage it,” Dooku said.  “You have yet to kill a Jedi Master.  Also, you will bring me the Senator alive.  I require some information from him, and I plan to get it one way or another.”  Dooku explained what information he needed from Senator Organa, and gave Grievous the coordinates of the city he would be found in.

“It will be done,” Grievous said.  “And Kenobi will die.”  He turned and walked away, his cape trailing behind him.

Since this mission would require stealth, Grievous had had to leave his ship and use a more generic one.  Dooku had seemed to derive satisfaction from this fact, almost as if he wanted to punish Grievous for not leaving his ship on Geonosis.  Grievous was more focused on the opportunity ahead of him than his rather lackluster ship, however.  It would serve its purpose.

“State your purpose, cruiser,” A voice said from the communications array.

Grievous pressed a button, and a woman's voice said, “I'm here to visit relatives in the capitol.”

“Very well,” the other voice said.  “Proceed.”

That's it? Grievous thought. No ship scanning?  No further security checks? Then again, no one was anticipating General Grievous to attack someone by himself.  He was the Supreme Commander of the Droid Armies.  The Republic expected him to come blazing out of hyperspace with a hundred battleships around whatever location he had targeted.  And that was the point, really.  They would never expect this.

Of course Dooku had merely said that Grievous had better know what he was doing.  Grievous was hardly averse to proving himself capable of this.  Of course, Dooku would have to die.  But not before Grievous had successfully captured Senator Organa.  In any event, the cyborg general could hardly turn down such a chance to take on his much-hated Jedi adversary.

He landed in a grassy glade not far outside the planet's capitol.  From there, he was going to have a challenge ahead of him.  Grievous was not built for stealth.  Anyone who saw him would instantly recognize who he was.  He had already programmed the ship to autopilot itself to his location once he gave it the appropriate signal.  But he couldn’t simply pilot the ship into the city, since he didn’t know precisely where his quarry was. Nevertheless, he had devised a way to get himself into the capitol undetected.  He just wasn't going to like it.

Grievous chafed inside the disguise.  Of all the things he despised people thinking of him, he despised being mistaken for a droid the most.  But it was that very misconception which would be necessary for this mission.  He knew Dooku had seemed amused when he had told him of his plan.

“I applaud your resourcefulness, General,” he had said.  “After all, I have no doubt that you of all people will be able to successfully disguise yourself as a droid.”

Grievous hadn’t hid his displeasure at the comment. However, the cyborg knew he needed the element of surprise.  He had waited until landing to implement the disguise, though, waiting until it was absolutely necessary to don it.  Then, very carefully, he fitted himself inside the droid shell.

The awkward droid legs and spindly droid hands were controlled by small microchips through his mental commands, and a wireless connection also served to allow him to see through the droid’s artificial eyes. The rectangular droid frame had been hollowed out to disguise his true body, which he had folded into its smallest possible volume.  The droid body was awkward and ridiculous, not built for fighting at all.  Its walk was more a waddle than a stride.  The disguise was utterly humiliating, but if it allowed him to take Kenobi and Organa by surprise, it would all be worth it.

“No droids!” A burly human stood in front of him, blocking the entrance of the cantina he had been about to check for signs of Kenobi or Organa.  Grievous wanted to kill the human in front of him for his insolence.  Instead, he restrained himself.

“Sorry, sir,” he said in the voice of the gutted droid, and turned away.  This was going to be difficult.  Difficult and infuriating.  And just as he was thinking that, he heard a voice.

“Wait,” the voice of Kenobi called out.  “Now, just wait a minute.”  He walked over to the man who had just blocked the entrance.  “Why are blocking this droid's way?  He could be looking for someone.”

“Don't care,”  the man said.  “We don’t serve their kind here.  Not after what those Separatist droids done.”

Kenobi crossed his arms.  “Well, I care.  And I can hardly believe my ears!  This is clearly not a Separatist battle droid.”  He turned to the disguised Grievous.  “Was there someone you were looking for?”

So close, Grievous thought.  But he couldn't attack him here.  There were too many people surrounding them.  He would be outnumbered.  Also, he needed to find the Senator.

“Yes!  I have an important message for Senator Organa,” Grievous said with the droid’s vocabulator.

“I see,” Kenobi said.  “He's at his estate right now on the other side of the city.  Would you like me to take you to him?”

Grievous forced himself to quell his excitement.  “Yes, thank you, sir.” You have sealed your doom, Kenobi.

Obi-Wan examined the droid as it waddled by his side.  It was an older Alderaanian model, a boxy grey creation with yellow eyes.

“What is your message?” Obi-Wan asked.

“It is for the Senator’s ears only,” the droid responded.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.  “That sounds like an important message.”

“Yes,” the droid agreed.

“Who sent you?” he asked.

“It is for the Senator’s ears only,” the droid repeated.

“Well, all right,” Obi-Wan said.  “I’ll get you to him, then.”

The trip didn’t take long.  Obi-Wan flagged down a hover-bus to carry them to the Senator.  He gave the droid a bemused look when it stepped on the hover-bus and caused it to tip briefly.

“You must be heavier than you look!” he commented.

The droid said nothing.  Probably it was only programmed to respond to questions and a limited number of statements.  That was fairly common for droids of this type.

Soon they arrived at the estate where the Senator was meeting with one of the noble houses of Alderaan.  He walked up to the door and knocked, the droid waiting silently by his side.  The door opened and Senator Organa looked between him and the droid.

“What a pleasure to see you, Obi-Wan,” Senator Organa said.  “And I see you’ve brought company.”

“Yes, this droid says it has an important message--for your ears only.”

Senator Organa smiled.  “There’s no need for such secrecy, he said.  Anything that you might have to tell me can be told in General Kenobi’s presence.”

“As you command,” the droid said.  “Let us go somewhere where we might talk privately, however.  This message is not for the ears of bystanders.”

“Of course,” Organa said.  “Come inside, both of you.”

He led them into a windowless drawing room deep within the estate.  Closing the door and locking it, he said, “Now we shouldn’t be disturbed.  What is your message?”

The droid said nothing, though.  Instead, it began to shake.  Then there was a terrible ripping noise as the entire box-shaped center tore apart and revealed a very familiar foe.

“Grievous!” Obi-Wan exclaimed, his lightsaber in his hand immediately.

“Kenobi,” the cyborg general responded, stretching himself from an almost impossibly small size to his full imposing height. “So nice to see you again.  I’ll be taking that lightsaber from you this time.  Oh, and the Senator as well.”

“I think not,” Obi-Wan said.  He calmed his fear and focused on blocking Grievous' attacks.  He could see the panic in Bail’s eyes.

“It’s all right!  I’ll handle him!”  Obi-Wan said, trying to reassure Bail.  He wanted to take the Supreme Commander of the droid armies alive if at all possible.

“So, I’m not the only one who seeks revenge,” Grievous said, countering his attacks easily.  “Do you mourn your fallen brethren, Kenobi? The ones who were slain by my hand?  Do you have the need, the burning desire, to seen me slain by yours?”

“You mistake me, General,” Obi-Wan said, not taking the bait.  “I seek only to disarm you.”  He responded to the General’s lightning-fast moves with his own.  “My fallen friends would never wish for me to commit vengeance in their name.”

Grievous laughed.  “How amusing.  Such pretensions of honor you have, Jedi scum!”  The cyborg flipped out of the way of a lightsaber attack that would have sliced off both left hands.

“Hardly pretensions,” Obi-Wan said, narrowly avoiding the slice of four lightsabers.  “I must admit, I wonder what your, ah, grievance with us is.”

Grievous grabbed Obi-Wan’s face and flung him into the wall.  “Your Jedi nearly caused the ruin of my homeworld.  If it hadn’t been for the Separatists, my people would have starved.  So it’s very simple, Kenobi.  You aided my people’s enemies in their war of aggression against us!  The Jedi have blood on their hands.”

Obi-Wan narrowly avoided another attack as he tried to recover his senses and consider this new revelation.  He had been trying to learn the reason behind the General’s steadfast loyalty to the Separatists for a while.  This was the first time he’d gotten anything resembling a real answer.  He still didn’t know what exactly Grievous was.  But now he knew what what drove him.

“I didn’t know,” Obi-Wan said, using the Force to call his lightsaber back to his hand.  “If what you are saying is true, the Jedi committed a grave injustice against you.”

Grievous lashed out with all four of his lightsabers.  “Yes, and now you will pay the price!”

“Please!  If you tell me who your people are, I can tell the Council that they must stop aiding your enemies.  I can ask them to pay reparations to your people.”

Chairs and tables were sliced to pieces by the deadly dance of Grievous and Obi-Wan’s blades.

“Too late, Kenobi.  Your death is all the reparations my people need from you!”

Obi-Wan sighed and redoubled his defense.  He was disappointed, but not surprised by the cyborg general’s response.  This only redoubled his determination not to kill Grievous, however.  Some of the Jedi had begun to believe that perhaps Grievous had simply been a serial killer with a fixation on Jedi. But Obi-Wan had long felt that there had to be something more behind Grievous’ malice, that it wasn’t simply borne from a violent nature.  If he had been served such an injustice by the Jedi, it was no surprise that the cyborg wanted them dead.  It also meant there might be a way to convince him to stop his war on the Jedi. “I think I’m going to have to pass on that one,” Obi-Wan said.  “But tell me who your people are, who these foes are that we aided, and I will demand the Council redress this injustice.”

“Such noble words,” Grievous scoffed.  “Such noble, empty words.”  Four lightsabers flashed through the air, all in different directions.  Obi-Wan allowed his movements to flow through the Force, weaving through the deadly barrage of light.

The Jedi Master was far from tiring, but he knew the cyborg general could do this all day.

Blaster shots rang out.  Two clone troopers had arrived.  Senator Organa stood on the other side of the room, a look of concern on his face.  Obi-Wan groaned internally.  The blaster bolts had done almost no damage to the General’s duranium frame, and had seemed to change his focus.  Grievous turned and ran over what remained of a table on all six of his appendages until he reached the Senator.  He grabbed Bail as if the robust Senator was a rag doll, flung one of the clones against the wall with his foot, and took the blaster from the other clone as he beheaded him.  Then he fired it at Obi-Wan.  The Jedi Master dodged out of the way just in time.

Grievous glared briefly at Obi-Wan.  “I’ll be back for you, Jedi scum.”  Then he ran to the door and blasted it open.  Obi-Wan pursued him, reaching the door to the estate just in time to see the general jump several times his body height to jump into a ship that had been waiting outside the manor.  The other clones, who had been about to blast the shuttle with a cannon, held back after seeing that the Senator was being held hostage by Grievous.  Obi-Wan watched in dismay and horror as the shuttle zipped away.

An Unusual Collusion

Notes

A/N: Well, I'm back with another chapter! I have so many ideas for this story! I think one of the things that really appeals to me is giving characters who I think are really underutilized in the original media a more prominent role, but I also want to play around with some of the more prominent characters like Bail Organa. Additionally, there is obviously the question of how to handle the political themes in the story. And come up with excuses for plenty of lightsaber and space battles, of course.

Also, thanks to Denapekka (on ff.net) and Maire_Berry for being the very first reviewers of this story! Just going to say that the romance I'm planning is probably not going to be with Shaak-Ti. However, she likely will appear as a character in the story. I really enjoyed her portrayal in the cell-shaded Clone Wars.

Grievous was infuriated that Kenobi would live another day. He had ached to use his new abilities against the Jedi, but he knew he was probably being recorded. An estate like that would have cameras everywhere, and that footage would be appearing in news programs across the Holonet shortly. He couldn't allow Dooku to know about his enhanced abilities. He had to kill the Count before he could make his new powers known. If Dooku knew he had had changes made without the Sith's involvment, he might suspect that he had regained his faculties, and he would surely seek to undo that. Grievous couldn't allow him that opportunity.

And as much as he hated to admit it, his lightsaber skills weren't sufficient to allow him to take on the Jedi Master alone. To be sure, he had almost killed Jedi Masters before, even when more than one of them attacked him. But Kenobi, like a few other of his peers such as Mace Windu or Yoda, was in a class by himself.

Grievous took a few deep breaths. He felt so much anger still. He hadn't been like this before Dooku's meddling. He had been able to calm himself, to think about things besides the Jedi and their betrayal, besides the destruction of war, to think about those he cared about. San Hill said it might take some time before his mind fully repaired itself. He sighed, trying to think of something positive. He had captured the Senator, at least. If everything went as planned, he would see Kalee again soon. It was time to set his plan in motion.

He heard the Senator stir. Senator Organa woke with a start. He was restrained in an energy field. "General Grievous!" he exclaimed.

"Correct, Senator," the cyborg rumbled. "You are my prisoner."

"I don't know what you want from me, but whatever it is, I won't give it to you," Organa said. "No amount of torture-"

"I have no interest in torturing you, Senator," Grievous said. "As much as I despise your Republic, your torture will bring me little of value."

"Why am I here, then?"

"Count Dooku has ordered me to capture you. He believes that you know information that would allow him to bring certain Core worlds under Separatist control." Grievous paced around the senator, watching him pinned inside the energy field like an insect.

"And you just expect me to tell you that information?"

"No," Grievous said. "I am going to offer you an unparalleled opportunity, Senator Organa."

"I won't be bribed!"

Grievous laughed, his eyes lidding in amusement. "You misunderstand me, Senator. I don't want the information."

Organa scowled. "What do you want, then?"

"I want Count Dooku to die," Grievous said. "And I want you to help me kill him."

The Senator was staring at Grievous in shock. Grievous hoped this would work. It was a gamble. But if anyone would want to destroy the Count, surely one of his Republic enemies would. Grievous would never work with someone like Palpatine, but he would take the chance that not all in the Republic were as corrupt as their leader.

"Why would you want to kill Dooku?" Organa asked. "Isn't he the one who gave you your power?"

"Yes," Grievous said. "However, certain-circumstances have led me to discover that he was no great benefactor to me after all. He altered my mind, without my knowledge and in violation of our agreement. Everything he gave me was only to make me a better tool for him to use."

"But I heard what you said to Master Obi-Wan," Organa said. "You still despise the Republic for what they did to your people."

"That's true," Grievous said. "I don't relish the thought of working with you. But you are not the Jedi, so I will give you this chance. I will release you as thanks for your help if we succeed. And Count Dooku will have been brought to justice."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then you die," Grievous said. "I can't afford for Dooku to find out what I've just told you."

"You really don't want the information?"

"Keep your information. I have more pressing concerns."

Organa laughed. "I guess you've made me an offer I can't refuse, then. What do you need me to do?"

"What do you mean, you have no military?" Grievous said. "You are the senator of a Core planet!"

Organa sighed. "Alderaan is a peaceful planet. We do not have our own standing military. I have nothing of that sort that I could-"

Grievous brought his face close to the human's. "Lies! All your propaganda may say what a peaceful Republic peon your world is, but don't think I can't see through that! Those clone troopers who interrupted my fight with Kenobi certainly brought some very peaceful weapons, don't you think?"

Organa sighed. "Those were Kenobi's soldiers, the Republic's soldiers, not mine."

"What about mercenaries? Have any of those?"

Organa looked horrified. "Of course not!"

Grievous paced in front of the senator in agitation, his hands behind his back. He hadn't seriously considered the possibility that Alderaan might actually have no means by which to defend itself, despite what all the datafiles had said. That any planet would be so completely devoid of any kind of military capability, especially a Core world, had been inconceivable to him. He had assumed they simply didn't advertise their martial capabilities.

"You have nothing then!" Grievous said. "Useless! This is useless!"

Organa sighed. "And here I thought I might get out of this alive."

Grievous looked over at him. The human looked so completely despondent that the usually murderous cyborg actually felt a pang of remorse. "Do not think I give up so easily. I was merely expressing my-frustration. You will have something I can use, I am sure of it."

Senator Organa looked thoughtful. "There might be a way. But you're not going to like it."

Grievous brought his mask down close to the human's face. "Well, it must be better than being reeducated by Dooku, so let's hear this unpleasant little plan of yours."

"If I asked, Master Obi-Wan would help me," Organa said. "He is a personal friend and-"

"Out of the question! I will have no dealings with the Jedi!" Grievous said.

The human frowned. "Is it possible you can defeat Dooku yourself?"

"Perhaps, if I took him by surprise," Grievous said. "But unlikely."

"But if he had to fight a Jedi and you unexpectedly attacked him..." Senator Organa said.

As much as Grievous hated the idea, his mind was already considering the tactical advantage. Obi-Wan had already killed a Sith once, back when he had only been a Padawan. So not only would he surely accept an opportunity to take down Count Dooku, he might even have the skill to do so-especially if he had help.

"Your plan would have a high probability of succeeding. But I have no guarantee that Kenobi wouldn't turn on me once Dooku had been dealt with!"

"He is an honorable man," the senator said.

An idea occurred to Grievous. "And a personal friend of yours, you say?"

The senator frowned. "Yes. We agree on a great many things. I used to think the Jedi teachings must make them cold and aloof, but he's proof to me that isn't true. And I've found we share many political leanings as well."

Grievous growled angrily and paced around the room. "You trust this Jedi with your life?"

"Yes," Senator Organa said, without hesitation.

"Then, for both of our sakes, let's hope your trust is not misplaced."

The senator's expression brightened. "So you'll contact Obi-Wan?"

"I am willing to do that," Grievous said. "Of course, you must understand that as my prisoner, I will use your life as insurance for his-good behavior. If he reneges on any part of our bargain, you will die."

"You didn't mention this before!" Senator Organa protested.

"I didn't know I would be allowing that Jedi scum free reign of one of my battlecruisers before. And I believe I was most clear that any treachery or refusal to cooperate by you would result in your death. Any treachery committed by your friend will be interpreted as treachery committed by you. But if you don't like the terms, please do suggest an alternative."

Organa sighed. "No, this is the best I've got. And I trust Obi-Wan. I just-don't trust you. But I suppose I don't have much of a choice in that."

"I'm glad we can agree on one thing, then."

We Meet Again

Notes

A/N: So here's the next chapter! Also thanks to Ryuunotaki 'Zu' Yuuka, shadowwriter01, TheRebbs98, and Don'tSleep
for the reviews (on ff.net)! I see a couple of you seem quite interested in the prospect of Obi-Wan and Grievous having to work together. I hope to have a good portrayal of that. Also, as to Don'tSleep's query about Grevious' emotional manipulation, the canon is not at all clear about that, but it's firmly established in the Legends continuity that Dooku had Grievous' mind altered to increase his rage, among other things. For example, it's mentioned in the novel Labyrinth of Evil (which I'm currently reading my way through). And while my story won't stick exclusively to the Legends continuity, I'll be drawing quite a bit of Grievous' backstory from it, as it is far more developed and, in my opinion, usually more interesting than the canon continuity.

Been thinking what I'm going to do about Anakin. I'm sure he'll pop up eventually, after all. Eh, now there's a character who seriously got shafted by the canon...

Grievous blinked blearily.  His eyes opened to stare directly at the durasteel floor.  “Grrrggghhh,” he said.  His eyes widened and in a surge of adrenaline he jumped to his feet.  In moments he was holding four lightsabers in a defensive pose against whatever foe had felled him.  But there was no one else on the ship except for the restrained Senator.

Organa yelped in surprise.  It took a moment for his expression to calm.  “What was that about?”

“Apologies, Senator,” Grievous said, realizing that there was no one on the ship besides himself and his captive.  He shut off the lightsabers and tucked them away.

“I--um--I don’t suppose you could get me some water,” Senator Organa’s voice said.

Grievous turned and walked to a control panel.  He pressed a button and a metal arm held a cup close enough for Organa to drink from it.

“How long was I out?” Grievous asked as Organa finished the last of the liquid from the cup.

“I don’t exactly have any way to tell the time.  But my guess would be--five to seven hours, perhaps?  You just suddenly collapsed.  I was worried Dooku had somehow--”

Grievous waved a hand dismissively.  “No, this wasn’t caused by him.  I think it must be a side effect of undoing his tampering with my mind, actually.  That was the only other time this has happened, during the surgery to repair the damage Dooku did to me.”  He hadn’t truly slept after the accident, not until he’d had Dooku’s implants removed.  But this was hardly like normal sleeping.  Normal sleeping was gradual, would’ve warned him with feelings of fatigue.  Instead he had felt fine one moment, then had just sort of--switched off.  Like a droid, he thought with distaste.

“So, you just randomly faint now?”  Organa asked, his expression concerned.

“No,” Grievous growled.  “I fell asleep.  My species usually sleeps after every .6 standard days.”   He mentally checked the time.  Hmmm, given the approximate time it must have been when I last remember talking to the Senator, that would mean--I was out for perhaps six hours.  He would have to make sure he kept track of the time from now on, to make sure this didn’t happen again. “I had been awake for two standard days since I had Dooku’s control chips removed.”

“I see,” Organa said.  “So I suppose you’re not yet--used to sleeping again, then?”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Grievous said dismissively.  “Inconvenient, but not --debilitating.”  It underscored the need to dispose of Dooku quickly, though.  Grievous could hardly hide something of this magnitude from him for long.

He walked over to the communications panel.  “Now, Senator Organa, I believe we were in the middle of something?  Are you ready to summon your Jedi friend?”

“Sure,” the senator responded.  He took a deep breath.  “I’m ready.”

“We meet again, Kenobi,” Grievous said, pacing aboard the nondescript cargo ship.

“It seems we do,” the Jedi responded, his lightsaber at the ready.  He glanced briefly around the ship, then focused back on Grievous.  “Bail said that you wanted to propose a trade?  I’ll only surrender myself if I can be certain that you will surrender Bail first.”

Grievous laughed.  “It’s not that simple, Jedi,” he said.  “I require your assistance with a certain task before I release your friend.”

“Where is Bail right now?”

Grievous gestured around.  “Not here, obviously.  Wouldn’t want you rescuing him before we even came to any agreement, now would we?”

“All right, but I’ll need proof that he’s still okay before I agree to anything.”

“And I will give you that proof,” Grievous said.  “All in good time.” He gestured to a bench.  “Have a seat.”

“I’d rather remain standing, if you don’t mind,” Kenobi said.

“If you prefer,” Grievous said.  “I’ll be brief.  Count Dooku altered my mind to make me more amenable to his commands.  He must pay for that.  But I cannot take down a Sith Lord alone.”

Kenobi’s eyes widened.  “You want me to--help you destroy Dooku?”

Grievous paced irritably in front of the Jedi.  “Yes.  If you do this, I will release your friend unharmed.  And your adversary Dooku will be dead.  I’m offering quite the opportunity, Kenobi!”

“I--don’t know what to say,” Kenobi said, his expression concerned.

“Well, if you say no, your friend dies and the deal is off,” Grievous responded.  “Your choice, Kenobi.” He held out a clawed hand.  “Now, if you would give me your lightsaber.”

Kenobi frowned.  “Show me Bail again first.”

Grievous held up a small holo-projector.  The image of Senator Organa appeared in the holographic display.

“Obi-Wan!”

“Bail!  How’s the General been treating you?”

“About as well as could be expected.  He has a droid feed me every several hours.  I’m still in containment, but he hasn’t tortured me.  I think I’ve been lucky, all things considered, old friend.  I’m sorry to get you involved in this, but--”

“Don’t apologize,” Kenobi said.  “You made the right decision.  Maybe this won’t end the war,” he glanced over at Grievous briefly, “but if we topple Dooku from power, the galaxy can only be better for it.  This was worth the risk.”

“All right, then.  May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan.”

“Thank you, Bail.”

Grievous switched the holo-projector off.  He held out a six-clawed hand again.  “The lightsaber, General Kenobi.”

Kenobi switched off his lightsaber and held it out.  “Very well.”

Grievous snatched it up gleefully.  “Thank you for your cooperation, General.  Now, I’ll need to put you in binds to make this convincing.”

Kenobi scowled.  “My favorite part.”

Of course, the binds hadn’t been the worst part.  Grievous had said that in order to quell Dooku’s suspicions, he needed the Jedi to appear more like he’d just been beaten in a fight.  He’d watched as his magnaguard had jabbed Obi-Wan all over with their electrostaffs.  Obi-Wan thought Grievous was enjoying this a little too much.

“I forget, do humans regenerate limbs?” Grievous asked offhandedly.  He stood over the Jedi, flanked by his magnaguard.

“No!” Obi-Wan said emphatically.

Grievous sighed.  “I need you in top fighting form, anyway, I suppose.”

“I don’t think there are very many inches of me not covered in bruises right now, and I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday,” Obi-Wan said irritably.  “I’m hardly in ‘top fighting form’ at the moment.”

Grievous walked over to a crate and removed a package filled with a transparent gel.

“My nutrient rations are compatible with your physiology.  This should provide all the sustenance you require.”

Obi-Wan frowned at the package.  “Looks delicious.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Grievous said.  “I no longer have the capability to consume food in the normal way.  All thanks to your esteemed Jedi Order.”

Obi-Wan looked up at him solemnly.  “What happened?”

Grievous laughed.  “I don’t see the need to go over the details with you, Jedi scum.”  He pointed a single clawed durasteel finger at Obi-Wan.  “But know, it was the greed and corruption of you Jedi that created me.”

Grievous gave the gel package to one of the magnaguards.  “Make sure our guest can enjoy his meal.”  He turned his back to the Jedi and walked over to a control panel.

Since Obi-Wan’s hands were bound, the magnaguard had to feed him, much to his embarrassment.  He was glad that the General seemed to be occupied with other matters at the moment, his spidery fingers tapping across a control panel. The gel was somehow bitter and sickly sweet at the same time.  In short, it tasted terrible.  Which Obi-Wan supposed was to be expected, since it hadn’t been designed to be tasted at all.  He finished it up, all the same.

On the upside, it didn’t take long before his hunger subsided and he felt energy in his muscles again.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said.

Grievous turned around to face the Jedi.  “Awfully polite.  Are you afraid, Jedi?”

“Respect does not have to be motivated by fear,” Obi-Wan said.

“So you do not fear me?”

“I do fear you,”  Obi-Wan said.  “But that is not why I respect you.”

Grievous walked over to the human and peered down at him.  “And why do you respect me?”

“Because I know your sense of justice is strong,” Obi-Wan said.  “That is something Count Dooku no longer possesses.”

Grievous laughed.  “You respect my sense of justice?  Even though it leads me to destroy your Order?”

“I hope I can offer you an alternative,” Obi-Wan said.  “To bring your homeworld the justice they deserve.  I can talk to the council, General.  Let them know what happened.  Whatever the reason for this cruelty to your people, I will not rest until I see it ended.  But I must know who they are.”

Grievous moved his mask mere inches from Obi-Wan’s face.  “Always the negotiator, aren’t you?  Save your breath, Kenobi.  I don’t need your help.  Not anymore.”

Obi-Wan sighed.  He had suspected the General would say that.  Still, he wouldn’t let the statement go unchallenged.  He raised an eyebrow.  “If you don’t need my help, why am I here?”

Grievous narrowed his golden eyes.  “That is an entirely different matter.  Killing Count Dooku benefits you as much as it does me.”

Obi-Wan sighed.  “Yes, that’s true.  Count Dooku must be brought to justice.  Though committing to killing an opponent is against the Jedi code.”

“Are you saying you’re having second thoughts, Jedi scum?” Grievous said.

“No,” Obi-Wan responded.  “But keeping him alive does have a practical value.  There is much that Dooku might tell us about Sidious, with the right incentives.  And as Dooku’s master, Darth Sidious is the greater threat.”

“Sidious will be dealt with, in time,” Grievous said.  “First, however, his apprentice, my former master, must die.  Are we agreed?”

So he plans to take on Sidious as well?  That’s ambitious.  Obi-Wan took a deep breath.“Yes. I will help you to bring him to an end.  However, I was obligated by the Jedi Code to ask you to consider the alternative.”

“So are Jedi not allowed to kill their enemies?”

Obi-Wan met Grievous’s steely gaze.  “We are allowed to, if it becomes necessary through circumstance.  My agreement with you qualifies as that circumstance.  What we are not allowed to do is commit to killing another without first attempting to take them down without bloodshed.  A Jedi must never kill out of fear or anger.  Only by necessity, and only with regret.”

“Tell that to the Jedi who killed my Izvoshra, then,” Grievous snarled.

“Your--what?”

“Nothing,” he said, turning his back on Obi-Wan again.  But Obi-Wan filed the word away for future reference, mouthing the syllables. Izvoshra.  That’s definitely not Basic. He couldn’t help wonder what the word meant.  Lover?  Family?  Friend?  Impossible to say, just from hearing those three syllables alone.  It must be a word in his native language.  With this information, Jocasta Nu may be able to find out what planet Grievous hails from.  The Jedi librarian was a true master of the art of information retrieval.

Obi-Wan was startled out of his thoughts by the sight of the electrostaff the Magnaguard to his right held flying into one of Grievous’s hands from across the width of the ship.

“How did you do that?!” Obi-Wan exclaimed.

Grievous laughed.  “Maybe I can use the Force after all, Jedi scum.”

“That’s not possible,” Obi-Wan said.  He had never felt the power of the Force within Grievous, and he did not feel it from him now.  The cyborg general could be affected by it, as everyone and everything could be, but he had no ability to use it for himself.

“Believe what you will, Kenobi.  But know I am practicing for that time, very soon, that will test all of my abilities to their limit.  I am about to pit myself against a Sith Lord, with only your uncertain help.  I don’t trust you, but I think it important for you to know what you can expect from me, if we are both to fight our mutual enemy.”

“And is there anything else you can do that I don’t know about yet?”

“One more thing.” Grievous said.

Kenobi managed to duck just as blue lightning crackled past where his head had been.

“You have excellent reflexes, Kenobi,” Grievous said.

Obi-Wan scowled.  “You could have just told me.”

“I prefer to show, not tell,” Grievous said.  “Anyway, now you know what I am capable of.  Dooku is not yet aware of these abilities.”

“I see.”  Obi-Wan considered the odds.  Count Dooku was a powerful Sith, who had also trained under Master Yoda.  Obi-Wan was considered a master of Soresu, but Dooku was a match him in lightsaber combat.  If he were fighting with Anakin, he would be confident they could prevail.  But he had never fought alongside Grievous.  Against him, yes, but that was hardly the same thing at all.

Still, Grievous had proven his ability in lightsaber combat countless times.  True, he had been taught by Dooku, which suggested he would not be able to exceed the Count in skill.  But it also meant he had considerable knowledge of Dooku’s fighting style as they had surely sparred countless times.  He had also apparently acquired some new abilities recently, which might take the Count by surprise.

Obi-Wan tried to imagine the battle, and found he had a hard time doing so, at least not without imagining Grievous turning on him, at which point Obi-Wan would be fighting a Sith Lord and the imposing cyborg by himself.  That wouldn’t end well for him.  He sighed.

“So, how do you want to do this?” Obi-Wan said.

“It’s simple,” Grievous said.  “I will use the element of surprise.  I will bring you to him, under the pretext that I wish to show him my first Jedi Master kill.”  He paced in front of Obi-Wan.  “Then, the power to the ship and droids will be cut.  You will use the confusion to escape and reclaim your lightsaber from me.  I will pretend to fight you so that I can get close enough to take down Dooku myself.” Grievous crossed his arms.  “Any questions?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said.  “If we win, what happens then?”  Even if things played out how Grievous had outlined, the thought had occurred to him that Grievous might turn on him the moment Dooku had been dealt with.  Even now, he could feel the loathing Grievous felt for him, that he felt for all the Jedi.  That miasma of anger and hate seemed barely contained in the being that stood before him.  It was, in fact, the first indicator of the cyborg’s presence to any Jedi who had ever survived an encounter with him.  Usually, anyway.The cyborg’s presence had been masked by the roiling emotions of the millions within the city before his earlier attack on Bail Organa at Alderaan.

“Then I release Senator Organa.  That was our agreement.”

“What about me?” Obi-Wan said.

Grievous said nothing for a long moment.  “You will be required to leave my flagship immediately, of course.  I will give you a transport shuttle for that purpose.”

“Do I have your word on that?  And that I will leave your ship alive?”

“Yes.”

Obi-Wan sighed.  He wasn’t sure if Grievous’ word would be worth much, but it was better than nothing, he supposed.

Confrontation with the Count

Grievous could feel his emotions in turmoil. Fear, seething hatred, even excitement over the coming battle. Grievous examined the five lightsabers at his waist. He had many trophies from successful battles with the Jedi. More than he could count. One of the lightsabers was Kenobi's. The other four he had chosen to use in this battle were simply his favorites.

Of course, if I win, I shall obtain my greatest trophy yet. Dooku's lightsaber would indeed be a prize. If he could manage to kill the wily Sith Lord, that was. He looked over at the Jedi Master who stood hunched at his side. Kenobi didn't look like much now, especially as covered in cuts and bruises as he was. But Grievous knew that looks could be deceiving when it came to the Jedi.

As they traversed the final hallway to the ship's bridge, Grievous mentally prepared himself for the battle ahead.

Grievous keyed in the code on the control panel and the door opened. Dooku was standing on the bridge, staring out the transparisteel window at the planet below them. He turned as soon as the door opened.

"I've something to show you, my lord," Grievous said.

"General!" Dooku said, addressing Grievous, though his gaze was locked on Kenobi. "What is the meaning of this?!"

"I thought you would want to see the death of the great Kenobi," Grievous said.

"It was foolhardy of you to bring him here, General," Dooku said, his lightsaber now held in front of him.

Grievous pulled a lightsaber blade from his cloak and ignited it. "Hardly. I will end him here and now!" He kicked Kenobi to his knees in front of him, apparently to deal the finishing blow, but in actuality to give the Jedi a better position in which to Force-grab his lightsaber.

At that moment, the room went dark, and the droids powered themselves down, just as he had arranged. He roared angrily, feigning surprise when the Jedi pulled his lightsaber from his cape. The moment the Jedi grasped the lightsaber in his bound hands, he deftly re-ignited it and cut through the bindings. In an instant, Grievous had four lightsabers in hand and was clashing with Kenobi.

"I will bring you down!" Grievous said.

"You fool," Dooku hissed at the General. "Look around you," he gestured to the silent droids bathed in red emergency lighting. "This was planned. He's not alone."

"Impossible!" Grievous said, not having to hold back against the Jedi as he pitted his full force against him, driving him closer to Dooku. Kenobi effortlessly blocked his strikes.

"Stand down, General," Dooku ordered. "Let me handle our guest."

"I'll kill him! I'll kill them all!"

"I said, stand down," Dooku growled, Force-grabbing Kenobi and pushing him to the ground away from Grievous and placing a Force wall in front of Grievous. Trying to walk through it was like trying to walk through solid durasteel.

"The Jedi is mine now, General. Do not interfere."

"Yes, my lord," Grievous said resentfully. Already things were not going according to plan. Of course, he had thought through a number of scenarios, but he hadn't expected Dooku to react like this. He stood and watched as the two duelists clashed, battling one another across the bridge. Grievous stood still as the Count had commanded, holding his lightsabers at the ready. He didn't want to reveal to Dooku his true intentions until it would be too late for the Sith Lord to counter them. But unless Kenobi led the fight back over to him, that was going to be very difficult.

"You would be a fool to travel here alone, Kenobi," Dooku said. "But you aren't alone, are you?"

"I'm never alone," Kenobi said glibly, easily blocking the Count's precise blows. "The Force is always with me."

"Where is Skywalker?" Dooku asked, striking at Kenobi with light, sharp moves. "I presume he will be along shortly."

"It seems not," Kenobi said, blocking the Count's strikes. "Am I not enough of a challenge for you?"

Dooku laughed. "Come now, you were never a match for me, Kenobi. But I know your apprentice can't be far right now. You would never enter into a confrontation with me alone."

Grievous watched as the Jedi and Sith battled one another.

"You've trained your pawn well, Dooku," Kenobi said. "Pity it isn't him I'm fighting. He's faster, more intimidating, and, need I say, taller? I could use the exercise."

Dooku raised an eyebrow as he executed a series of offensive moves with his saber. "Judge me by my size, do you?" He lifted Kenobi into the air in a Force choke. "That will be the last mistake you ever make, Kenobi." He flung him to the side.

Grievous magnetically pulled back at the metal in Kenobi's armor to prevent him from hitting the wall of the ship. Instead, he fell to the ground, landing on his hands and feet.

Dooku, who had been watching Kenobi's movements this entire time, now panned his gaze around the room in one swift motion. "Skywalker?! Where are you?"

"Behind you!" Grievous said, pointing. Dooku turned and while he was scanning the bridge window, the cyborg General skittered with six legs across the bridge and then rose, bringing all four of his lightsabers down on the Count.

Dooku turned and deftly blocked the attack, following his block by executing a swift offensive. Kenobi was on him within moments and Dooku backed away from the two, his eyes wide in surprise. The Count looked to Grievous. "What are you doing, General?!"

"I am destroying the Sith! Starting with you!" Grievous said, silently cursing his failure. Now that he had failed with his attempt at misdirection, it would be much more difficult to kill the Sith Lord.

Dooku narrowed his eyes, his movements becoming more fluid and controlled as he slashed at his two attackers. "What has happened with your mind, General?"

"My mind is my own now," Grievous growled.

"Quite the contrary," the Count said. "I think this Jedi has taken control of it."

Grievous spun around, attempting to slice off Dooku's legs. The Count deftly sidestepped the movements and attacked Obi-Wan simultaneously.

What if the Jedi has taken control of my mind? Grievous thought. Anger welled up in him.

"You must kill him to end his control," the Count said calmly.

Grievous turned to Obi-Wan, who's eyes widened on seeing Grievous turn away from the Count.

"I must kill you to end your control," he hissed at the Jedi.

"No!" Kenobi said, blocking the Count's attacks. "I'm not the one trying to control you!"

Grievous brought his four lightsabers down on the Jedi. Loathing filled his mind. "Liar! Jedi scum!"

"No, don't do this!" Kenobi said, jumping away from Grievous' attacks. "You're strong enough to fight him!"

The Count hung back now, watching the proceedings with a small smile. "Maybe I should let you deal with him after all, General."

"Thank you, Master," Grievous said, his attention now focused on the Jedi.

"Please, think," Kenobi said, blocking Grievous' rapid attacks. "Don't let your anger rule you."

"I'll show you anger, Kenobi," Grievous said. He grabbed the Jedi with his foot and flung him across the floor.

"Don't let this Sith rule you," Kenobi said, wincing as he rose from the ground. "You need to concentrate, break his control. Remember our agreement."

As Grievous fought the Jedi, he felt his awareness gradually increase around the edges of his rage. He found the memories of his earlier conversation with Kenobi. He was aware of it now, the hold the Sith Lord had on his mind. A hazy feeling of uncoordinated rage. It told him not to think. It told him to obey. Obey the Count. What the Count could not currently accomplish through technology, he was now attempting to accomplish through the Force. Grievous found himself wanting to continue his attack of Kenobi in spite of his realization. It would be so easy to give in to the Sith's vise-like grip of his mind. So easy to lose everything he had fought so hard to reclaim.

No! I must not let him do this!

Grievous growled and lashed out at the Count with one of his legs. Dooku sidestepped the attack.

"Tsk, tsk, General," Dooku said, frowning and blocking the cyborg's multiple lightsaber attacks with ease. "You really can be exasperating sometimes."

Kenobi pressed in on the Count from the other side, and Dooku performed a force jump away from them. Then he lifted Obi-Wan into the air again and began choking him.

Grievous ran towards the Count with all four lightsabers facing towards his opponent. Just as he was about to reach Dooku, the Count directed his gaze at him and he suddenly found himself collapsing to the ground as his head exploded with pain.

Dooku smiled calmly. "Goodnight, my wayward apprentice. But not to worry, I'll fix up this malfunction of yours, once I've finished with your friend Kenobi here."

Through his increasingly hazy vision, Grievous turned his attention to Kenobi. The Jedi was struggling under Dooku's Force choke, his legs flailing in the air. Grievous didn't have the coordination to pull him down again, and he couldn't stop Dooku's Force choke that way at any rate. Instead, he turned to look at Dooku. His vision was starting to fade out. The pain in his head was agonizing. He lashed out at Dooku with his electric implant. The lightning jolt caught the Sith Lord by surprise, causing him to release Kenobi and double over. Grievous felt the pain in his head lift. In one fluid motion, he grabbed the lightsabers he had dropped earlier, flipped over to the Count, and sliced through his neck.

"Thanks," Kenobi said, gasping from several feet to the cyborg's left. "He was about to finish me off."

"Quiet, Kenobi," Grievous said. "I want to savor this moment." Dooku has paid for his treachery against me. The Count's body lay still on the floor. I thought I could ally myself with these ancient enemies of the Jedi, but it seems the Sith are no better than their foes. I will kill them all. For the first time in years, Grievous felt elation. For a moment the cyborg simply stood over the body of the dead Count. Then he reached down and took the lightsaber that lay on the ground. And now,I am the Master, Dooku.

He turned to Kenobi. "I think it's time to get you off my ship."

Grievous knew it had been many, many years since he'd felt this happy, this much at peace. He had busied himself restoring power to the ship and the droids, and then telling the droids to clean up the mess from the fight. While he usually disliked the uncreative obedience of the droids, it certainly prevented the interference and awkward questions that might have come from a living crew. He'd led Kenobi to the transport ship he had promised the Jedi, and now he stood, his hands behind his back, staring out the viewport of his ship.

He saw a familiar-looking shuttle cross the front of the viewport, traveling away from them.

"Is that Kenobi?" he asked the droid manning the station.

"Yes, sir," the droid said.

Grievous lidded his eyes contentedly.  “Fire at will.”

A barrage of laser fire attacked the ship, which only twisted away at the last moment.

"There's a communication from the ship, sir."

"Let's hear it," Grievous said.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Kenobi's voice said. "We had an agreement!"

"That we did, Kenobi," Grievous said, walking over to the command chair and settling down into it. "I said I would release Senator Organa. I have done so. I said you would leave my ship on a transport shuttle. Alive. I was true to my word. I never said anything about what would happen to you afterwards."

"I'm not your enemy, Grievous! You don't have to-"

"Save your breath, Kenobi." Grievous said, laughing. "Cut communications," he told the droid.

Grievous had the droids manning the bridge launch several Vultures to attack the ship, and fire several more laser blasts, but the ship managed to escape into the nearby planet's gravity well.

"Should we launch a search party?" the droid asked.

"No," Grievous said. He had a lot of work to do. He couldn't waste time chasing Kenobi on some remote planet, as much as he might like to. Still, he had enjoyed giving the Jedi his parting farewell. "Set course for Raxus Secundus. I'll need to make the Parliament aware of the Count's-sudden demise."

The Sith Lord's Message

Notes

A/N: Hi there everyone! I just recently finished season 6 of the cg Clone Wars! Harrah! Now I just have to catch up on some of the episodes I skipped in my impatience (ie. I skipped more early on because I was just watching the episodes with Grievous-but I did gradually become interested by the other plotlines, so now I want to see the episodes I missed). So fun! Finishing the cell shaded Clone Wars was certainly a lot faster.

One thing I hope to do is flesh out the characters in this story as much as I can. For example, I want the Separatist Parliament members to have more personality. If anyone has insights on good EU materials to reference for that, I'd be glad to hear about that. I do want to make them somewhat more sympathetic characters, but that doesn't mean they are necessarily all goodness and light. Right now I'm just using Wookiepedia, the two Clone Wars cartoons, and the prequels themselves to help me get a sense of some stuff I can incorporate into their personalities/backstory in addition to the additions and changes I will make.

Also, thanks to my Guest reviewer, TheRebbs98, LNFRARADIANT, Gr4g4z4, and Celgress for your reviews on chapters 6 and 7 (from ff.net). As to your questions:

LNFRARADIANT: Grievous only used four lightsabers in the battle. Obi-Wan reclaimed his own lightsaber from Grievous so he could escape his binds and fight Dooku with it, as they had planned. Grievous only had it in the beginning so Dooku would think he had disarmed Obi-Wan and was preparing to kill him. This story will be very long, like all my stories are. Likely more than 100k+ words, though I couldn't say how much more.

TheRebbs98: Yes, that will cause some bad memories at some point.

Celgress: This story takes place during Season 3, and sometime before the events of Episode 10 of Season 3 (heroes on both sides). I haven't decided 100% exactly where yet, but I hope to make that clearer soon. Also, since it's an AU I may change the outcomes of certain events if they somehow interfere with my intended plot, though I do expect a lot of them to remain the same. So at this point, Maul hasn't resurfaced yet.

Grievous had received a flurry of messages recently, both for him and for the Count. he hadn't answered any of them yet. The first order of business was to send a message of his own.

"What a relief to hear that," San Hill's hologram said. The Muun was lounging on a couch in what Grievous assumed to be his private home. He was wearing nightclothes-a loose robe and some kind of furry slippers. Grievous assumed he was taking the call in the middle of Munnilinst's night. "Of course, I always knew you would succeed. Which is why I have been busy cleaning up elsewhere while you were disposing of the Count."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Poggle the Lesser," San Hill said. "One of the few who knew about Sidious' involvement with us. I've been trying to see who might stand with you against the Sith."

"Don't you mean us?" Grievous asked.

The Muun laughed. "I suppose, but I haven't exactly allowed them to know who was contacting them. I didn't reveal either of our identities, let me assure you, but I think they may have guessed your involvement nonetheless. Still, if you would like to enjoy my further assistance, I must reiterate that you not reveal the extent of my involvement in this. I cannot help you if I am dead."

"Yes, of course," Grievous said irritably. Obviously Sidious would target the banker if the Sith Lord knew what he had done. "So, what of the Archduke? What was his reply?"

"Sadly, he proved staunchly loyal to Lord Sidious," San said. "So I had a bounty put on his head." He winced slightly. "The bounty hunter took that very literally. It took hours for the cleaning droids to get the ichor out of the carpet."

"What of the others?" Grievous asked.

"Nute Gunray sides with us," San said. "Though he's chosen an interesting way to protect himself from any possible repercussions. He faked his own death."

Grievous made a dismissive noise. He had never liked Gunray, but he supposed this meant he wouldn't have to track the cowardly Neimoidian down himself.

"Wat Tambor has chosen to side with us as well," San said, frowning now. "Though I would have enjoyed seeing his head on a platter. Ah, well."

"And the rest of them?"

The Muun held up four fingers, ticking them off one by one. "Shu Mai-our side. Po Nudo-Sidious, though not to worry, I've dealt with him, too. Passel Argente-our side. Tikkes-our side."

"Is that everyone who knew of Sidious?"

"All that I know of," San said. "Very few of the Parliament was actually aware of his existence, but it's possible he has other connections I haven't yet been able to track down."

"Then it is time to start the next phase of my plan," Grievous said. He was surprised that the Muun had managed his part in Grievous' plan so quickly. When he mentioned this, San laughed.

"Quickly? Well, the bounty hunters were delightfully prompt. But I think you overestimate my skills at persuasion if you think winning the others over to us happened in a few short days. The truth is, I've been planning this for a while now, long before I had the opportunity to remove the control chips in your brain. I did, after all, realize that my decisions would have-consequences." His expression grew somber. "But yes, I have-tied up all the loose ends that I can. So, now I ask, what exactly are you planning to do?"

That is interesting. I suppose he would have anticipated that I would turn on Dooku and Sidious after learning of what they did. In any event, this meant he could focus on the real threat to them all. "I will contact Darth Sidious myself and attempt to draw him out of his seclusion. Here is what we will do..."

As it turned out, Grievous didn't need to contact Sidious, because the Sith Lord contacted him first.

"You contacted me, Lord Sidious?" Grievous said. Without even thinking, he bowed before the holo-image of Sidious. The act was deeply-ingrained habit by now.

"I have felt the Count's death," Sidious said.

Grievous stood to his full height. He would never bow before this man again.

"Yes. Count Dooku is dead."

"Do not repeat to me what I already know," Sidious snapped. "How did he die?"

Grievous took a deep breath to center himself. He was feeling dark glee right now, and he needed to calm himself if he wanted to be coherent. He narrowed his eyes. "I killed him."

Sidious hissed angrily at the cyborg's admission. His mouth twisted and contorted as he spoke. "You should take more care not to anger me, beast."

"Maybe it is you and the Count who should have taken more care not to anger me, Sidious." He leaned over the hologram, taking the Count's lightsaber out of his cape and igniting it. "But Dooku's lightsaber will make a fine trophy for me, don't you think?" He waved the saber around mockingly.

"Why are you doing this?!"

"I know what Dooku did to me, Sidious. I know you are, if anything, even more twisted and manipulative than he was. And I'm not going to play your little game anymore."

"What are you talking about? You dare defy me?!"

"Let me be clear-this is a coup," Grievous said. "You no longer control the Separatist Alliance. You no longer control anythi-"

Grievous couldn't finish the sentence, though, because the Sith had lifted him in the air and had begun, across some enormous span of light-years and through the cyborg's solid duranium hull, to crush his organic lungs.

Grievous lashed out at the communications panel with lightning from his hand. The Sith Lord's hologram flickered out and the cyborg fell to the ground, coughing. He hadn't known the Sith Lord could do that. He wouldn't be talking to Sidious again via hologram. As he unsteadily got to his feet, he made a mental note to inform his allies to avoid the same.

Now it's his move. If Sidious wants the Separatist Alliance back, he'll have to come and get it himself.

The Chancellor's Office

Notes

A/N: Well, I'm back! Now you get to learn what Sidious thinks of what just happened. I had originally planned to leave this chapter until a bit later, but when I considered the timeline of events, it made more sense to me to put it before the other chapters.

Thanks for your comments on the last chapter, anonymous Guest commenter and Celgress (from ff.net)!

I will warn you all, I'm a notoriously unpredictable updater. I do not set deadlines for writing, because I'm not really terribly fond of them. But I am quite motivated to continue my stories since I basically put all the things I want to see in them. I have a tendency towards novel-length stories with large casts of characters. I am really looking forward to introducing more of the CG Clone Wars characters in this story, with perhaps some EU characters as well. Grievous may take center stage in this story, but he's going to be surrounded by an entire cast of friends and foes (and everything in-between)! Just a few of my planned additions: Ahsoka, Ventress, and Padme.

The man called Chancellor Palpatine sat in the chair in his office, a deep frown etched onto his face. To a spectator, it might appear that he was simply deep in thought, calmly considering some weighty affair of state. However, internally he seethed with anger and hatred over Grievous' recent communication. He fumed over the cyborg's words to him-

You no longer control the Separatist Alliance...

And then the beast had had the gall to somehow cut off his attack on it.

He had immediately tried to contact the others, then. San Hill. Nothing. Wat Tambor. Silence. Poggle the Lesser. No response. Po Nudo, Tikkes, and Passel Argente. Equally uncommunicative. Nute Gunray. A Trade Federation auto-holo notifying him of the alien's recent demise. And Shu Mai had actually had the nerve to block his call! All of his carefully chosen puppets in the Separatist alliance were either dead or refusing to talk to him. Of the ones still alive, perhaps the cyborg had threatened them into submission. Of course, any of them still alive would come to regret, for the brief time they remained alive, being more afraid of that monstrosity than him.

Grievous! Of all the things he should never have had to worry about! Lord Tyranus' lightsaber apprentice! His pet! How Tyranus had fawned over that beast, had favored it, even.

And Sidious had never seen the harm in that. Simple pride over his creation, a creation uniquely Sith in origin. Sometimes one needed a servant who was a monster. Not something already monstrous, but something turned from an ordinary creature into a twisted nightmare of death and destruction. Tyranus had accomplished that with Grievous, continuing the grand tradition of the Sith. And to ensure his success, he had altered the mind of his unwitting subject so that Grievous would be forever under his thrall.

Or, at least, that was how it was supposed to have gone. Someone must have interfered, and when Sidious found out who it was, he would make sure they regretted their defiance! More than anyone else involved in this wretched affair, they would learn the true meanings of fear and pain. Oh, how he would make them writhe in agony! Eventually, they would die, of course. But first, they would suffer. They would suffer, and they would wish that they were dead.

For Sidious hadn't simply lost his valuable placeholder apprentice, but the entire Separatist Alliance. The apprentice would have been bad enough. Sidious hadn't nearly completed Anakin's turn to the Dark Side. He was going to have to accelerate that process now. And in the meantime, he would have to find another temporary apprentice. Unfortunately, The assassin Asajj Ventress was the only Dark Force user of any note that Tyranus had collected before his untimely death.

Sidious loathed her. Tyranus had been in every way an optimal apprentice, excepting of course his obvious inferiority to Skywalker. Sidious harbored no fondness for his deceased apprentice-such things were not the domain of the Sith. But he had been the right tool for the current task at hand.

Asajj had none of the abilities Tryanus had had as a statesman, and worse, she was rapidly growing in ambition and power. He sensed she would contact him soon, however. Her pretension that she was a Sith would drive her to him. Well, he might yet have some use for her. If he could determine one, he would make sure she served it.

His mind turned back to the Separatist Alliance. The monster would now have control of it. What would it do? Sidious considered. Grievous had once been a Kaleesh warrior, and additionally, a brilliant tactician. That brilliance had suffered somewhat due to the tampering to his mind, but he had still served surprisingly well as the Separatist's Supreme Commander. With his mind restored to him, he could be a true menace to all of Sidious' well-laid plans. At least, until Sidious reclaimed the Separatists. Which he would do by bringing the monster back to heel, this time directly under his own control. That would save him the most effort, now that the beast had successfully thwarted his previous attempt on its life. A trap would have to be set for Grievous. And Sidious knew exactly where to set it.

Kalee.

Far above, in the Coruscanti atmosphere, a cloud moved away from the sun. Bright light streamed in from the large window behind the man called Palpatine, giving his grandfatherly visage something of a halo. The Chancellor smiled a small, restrained smile.

Visit to the Manor

Notes

A/N: This chapter took me a bit of time to edit, both because I reworked and added parts and because it's a bit longer than my other chapters. Thanks Aznereth, Celgress, and anonymous Guest for your comments on Chapter 8 (from ff.net)! They are most appreciated!

Grievous looked out at the planet Raxus through the transparisteel window on the bridge of the Invisible Hand. Technically, it was the planet Raxus Secundus, but the first planet was of no major political importance, so it had always just been referred to as Raxus.

He sighed, and then coughed. I'll need to get another bacta treatment for this. Grievous hated the idea. Just thinking of it reminded him of the accident. He could remember a blaze of fire all around him, then air, then water. Darkness. Waking up in the bacta tank and seeing-his own corpse. That's what it had looked like to him, anyway.

"Sir," a mechanical voice from behind him said. "We have arrived at the planet."

Grievous turned to face the droid. "Yes, I've noticed." He coughed again. You'll pay for this, Sidious. "Ready my shuttle immediately."

As he was walking to his shuttle, another B1 droid approached him.

"You have received a communication from Chairman Hill," the droid said.

Grievous felt a pang of annoyance. Perhaps he had the Muun to thank for his current mental freedom, but considering that the banker had allowed the alteration of Grievous' mind to occur in the first place, the General was hardly inclined to feel an overabundance of gratitude. Still, it might be important.

It had better be important.

"I'll take it in the shuttle," Grievous said. "You are dismissed."

"Roger roger." The droid inclined its head and walked off.

When Grievous arrived at the shuttle, he switched on the holo-communicator, and keyed in the code to accept the call.

"I hope you have a very good reason for contacting me," Grievous said, and coughed.

"I wanted to see how you were doing," the Muun said, wearing his usual gray business suit this time. He frowned. "You sound terrible, you know. Sidious really did nearly do you in, didn't he?"

"I'll deal with it," Grievous rasped. "At any rate, I doubt you called merely to inquire about my health."

"You're right," San said. "I called to inquire about your plan."

"What about it?" Grievous said. "I've already explained it to you." Everything you need to know about it, anyway.

"Yes," San said, frowning disdainfully. "And yet, there was something strangely absent. Perhaps you simply are not interested in my input about your surely impending visit to your home planet, but-"

"You're right," Grievous cut in. "I'm not interested in your input, Mr. Hill."

He took a moment to enjoy the look of offended outrage he saw on the banker's face before he switched off the holo-comm. What had made it even more satisfying had been the slight twitch of the Muun's eye betraying an undercurrent of fear.

Grievous had spent more and more of his time reflecting on his past of late, and he had determined that of all the grief he had experienced in his life, his unlikely savior had been responsible for at least a solid quarter of it. If there was one thing he wanted to make very clear to the banker, it was that he would never again be Grievous' superior.

The trip to the planet was uneventful this time. Raxus had been easily retaken after the prior Republic attack. As he exited the shuttle, an entourage of droids greeted him. He had been on his way to the lodgings where he would stay when he encountered a familiar face.

"Senator Bonteri," he said, nodding curtly and continuing forward.

"General Grievous," she said. "I heard the news. Is it-is it really true? Is Count Dooku-"

"Yes, he's dead," Grievous responded.

"This is terrible news," the Senator said, her expression concerned. She walked briskly to keep up with the cyborg, her hands clasped behind her back.

"Yes," Grievous said, coughing. Most of the populace weren't aware that Dooku was a Sith, only that he had once been a Jedi who had left the Order due to his various disagreements with them. Grievous saw no reason to try to disabuse them of this notion. He was going to pin the Count's death squarely on the Jedi. Things would just be-easier that way.

"I was wondering if you would perhaps consider my previous offer," she said.

"I was planning to stay at the lodgings nearest the council chamber," Grievous said.

The Senator looked surprised. "How did you-contact them?"

"I didn't," Grievous said. Why would he bother to contact them in advance? He was sure that if they hadn't had the foresight to reserve a room for his imminent arrival, they would soon find one for him once he showed up.

"I see," Bonteri said. "Then I guess that's why you didn't know that that location was-destroyed."

Grievous stopped and turned to look at her. "Then I will stay at the next closest lodgings."

"Well, you see, General, they were all destroyed. In fact, the closest unaffected dwelling to the council chamber is-my estate. Hence my offer."

Grievous looked thoughtful. "I could stay in my shuttle." He coughed again.

She sighed. "We could give you a bacta treatment. That sounds like a nasty cough you've picked up."

"It's nothing. I'm-," Grievous ended the sentence in a fit of coughing.

"Nothing? That doesn't sound like nothing. Look, it's bad enough our Chancellor has died. We can't have you dying, too!"

"I don't have time-," Grievous coughed, "-for-treatment. I have to address-" more coughing, "-the Parliament-tomorrow!" He was becoming increasingly more irritated, both by the Senator and by the betrayal of what little remained of his organic body.

"I have an aerosol-only treatment. It's fast acting and it doesn't require a tank. Maybe it will help relieve your symptoms, at least until you can get a full treatment. It's going to be difficult for the Parliament to understand you if you can't stop coughing."

Grievous looked down at the Senator, his irritation decreasing slightly. If he didn't have to stay in a tank...

"Very well," Grievous said, coughing. "I will stay at your estate."

"Good," the Senator said. "You probably could use some company, anyway. It must be lonely with only droids to talk to." She frowned.

Lonely? Grievous thought. He had never really considered it fully before. But-he did lack for conversation. Most of his interactions as the Supreme Commander of the Droid Armies had been with Dooku, who would give him instruction, orders, and criticism. Sometimes he thought he had enjoyed mocking the Jedi as he killed them. He wasn't sure. He hadn't really thought about such things in a long time, his mind having been molded by Dooku to dwell little on anything besides his all-consuming anger. And his most recent conversations had been with San Hill, who he disliked, and with Sidious, who had tried to kill him.

"Droids are very bad at conversation," Grievous agreed. "At least, the ones we use for the war are. Their programming is focused on their martial ability, not their eloquence with words."

"That's what I thought. What is your homeworld? Do you still have friends there? Or perhaps a wife? Children?"

"My homeworld is called Kalee. And I have friends there, yes," Grievous said. He stopped walking abruptly. The mention of his friends on Kalee had triggered a memory of the one who he had lost a very long time ago...

Qymaen stalked through the dark jungle overgrowth, the two lig swords in his hands. His excellent night vision served him well, for he could clearly see the fresh tracks the beast he hunted had left.

As he continued forward, he heard a sound. He turned his head towards it, attempting to make out movement in the undergrowth.

He waited. The sound did not resume. He continued forward. Two more steps, and he had been met with twin lig blades at his throat. For a moment, he simply peered at the stranger's mask in confusion.

"Who are you?" Qymaen asked, frowning behind his mask.

"That question has two possible answers," the stranger said. "My name is Ronderu, but what is important for you right now is who you are."

"I do not get your meaning."

"Are you a poacher, hunting my mumuu beast? Or are you a simple lost soul, who merely needs directions to their quaint provincial village?"

Qymaen considered his response. His eyes met the golden gaze in front of him.

"Well? It is a simple question." One of the blades pressed closer to his throat.

"Please, I require additional time," Qymaen said. "It takes some effort, to invent a good name for a quaint provincial village."

"-General? General Grievous?" Senator Bonteri said, waving upwards in the approximate direction of the cyborg's face.

Grievous looked down at her, his eyes now meeting her concerned gaze. Grievous felt concern too, then, because he had almost completely lost awareness of his surroundings while caught up in the memory. Was this more of that memory backlash that San Hill had warned him about? Why had it happened now? What if it happened while he was in battle? He quelled his alarm, though, since he didn't want the Senator to think there was something wrong with his mind as well as his body." My apologies, I was simply-reminiscing. Now, where were we?"

The Senator's look of mild concern was replaced with a smile. "Ah, you were telling me you had friends on Kalee. Do you have a wife as well? Any children?

"Ah, no wife, no children-I never married."

"Oh," the Senator said. "Do you get to talk to your friends much, then?"

"No," Grievous said, coughing once. His coughing seemed to have subsided a bit. "I plan to contact them soon, though."

"That's good. I'm sure they're worried about you!"

Grievous didn't reply. His friends probably weren't worried about him, he thought. The ones who were still alive likely thought he was dead. In a way, he had been. Dooku had controlled his mind too thoroughly for him to have even considered making contact with any of his old Kaleesh friends. Even if his memories hadn't been suppressed, it would have been hard to think of friends when he had been consumed entirely with rage towards his enemies.

"Your homeworld is Onderan, is it not, Senator?" Grievous asked, changing the subject. "Do you visit it often?"

"Why, yes, it is," Bonteri replied. "Lux and I visit there twice a year. Onderan is truly the most beautiful place in the galaxy-well, perhaps I exaggerate, but I can't help but be partial to it. I did grow up there, after all. The wildlife is unlike..."

Grievous listened to her response with mild interest. Yes, it had been a very long time indeed since he had had anything resembling a normal conversation.

"And here is your bedroom," she said, gesturing to a large room on the second story of her estate. "If you need anything, you can ask our protocol droid, DN-4E-we just call her Danae."

"Yes, I'll be happy to assist you-," the droid said. She looked over at the General and his entourage of silent Magnaguards. "-or your guards with anything they might require."

Grievous looked over his four Magnaguards. He gestured over to one that had sustained some damage during its last battle. "I believe this one could use some minor repairs."

The Magnaguard followed the protocol droid down the hallway and Grievous examined the room. "This will be quite sufficient, yes," he said. "Thank you for your-hospitality." He coughed a bit then.

The Senator smiled. "It's the least I can do. How about we see what we can do about that cough?"

"All right," Grievous said. "This will be quite interesting to see. I was not aware that bacta could be applied without tank treatments."

The Senator looked surprised. "Really? I thought that was general knowledge."

"Not to me," Grievous said. "Bacta treatments themselves are not well-known on Kalee. And Count Dooku never brought it up."

"That's surprising, that he never said anything," Bonteri said. "The tank treatments are usually only used for the worst injuries. Though there are quite a few who prefer tank treatments even for less serious issues."

"I am required to undergo a bacta tank treatment once a month, anyway," Grievous said, coughing. "The injuries from my shuttle accident never fully healed. So perhaps that is why the simpler treatments were never brought up."

"Perhaps," the Senator said, though she looked doubtful. She stopped. "Here we are. The medical supplies room." She opened the door and Grievous saw a collection of drawers and cabinets, even an entire bacta tank ready for use. He watched with interest as she looked through the drawers and finally picked up a spray bottle. "Here it is!"

Grievous sprayed a bit of the substance on his fingers, allowing the chemical sensors on his fingers to first test it for any poisons that might be harmful to his organic organs. The only chemicals he detected were bacta and a few innocuous ingredients he assumed were fillers.

The Senator, perhaps mistaking his caution for confusion, spoke up then. "Ah, you just need to spray it in your mouth or-" she stopped. "Well, I guess that's not really possible. But I'm sure you get the idea."

Grievous laughed, which turned into a hacking cough. "Yes, I can handle this." He took the spray bottle and sprayed it over the openings in his neck cords, which also served as windpipes to his lungs.

He almost immediately felt a difference. "That is better," he remarked with some surprise.

"I'm glad to hear it," Bonteri said. "And please feel free to keep that in case you need it later."

"Thank you," Grievous said. He regarded the Senator thoughtfully. How much of her hospitality was due to genuine gratitude, and how much due to political maneuvering? He didn't know. At least she did seem helpful and pleasant, even if her actions were likely motivated by political self-interest. Even if this is all to curry favor, I can't say that I resent it. He could think of worse ways someone might try to ingratiate themselves to him.

"You're welcome, General," Senator Bonteri said warmly. She looked troubled. "I would invite you to dinner with Lux and I, but I fear that would be unkind given your-condition."

"Actually, I think I would very much enjoy that," Grievous said. "I won't need any food, of course, but I think the conversation would interest me."

The Senator seemed surprised. "Well, I'll set a place for you, then."

Sitting at Senator Bonteri's dining room table, Grievous was feeling slightly overwhelmed by the sheer amount of admiration the Bonteri child seemed to have for him.

"-and I know you have six gyroscopes to help you keep your balance, but that's still amazing, that you can fight balanced on one foot! It almost looks like you're dancing."

Grievous laughed. "I suppose it does. I must admit, I do enjoy the extra agility of this body."

"It's incredible! Although, if it's okay to ask, wasn't the surgery-frightening? I understand you volunteered for it?"

"I did volunteer for it," Grievous said. "Though I didn't truly have much to lose at that point. I was-injured in a shuttle crash. I lost all my limbs and quite a bit more. So my choices were either to accept an experimental procedure or live the remainder of my life in a broken body."

"Oh. How did that happen?" Lux asked.

Grievous took a few deep breaths to calm himself. "The Jedi sabotaged my ship."

Lux gave him a wide-eyed look. "Really? That's terrible. Even with all the bad things I've heard people say about them, it's hard to believe they would stoop so low."

"Yes, that's so appalling of them," Senator Bonteri said, her expression sympathetic.

"It is," Grievous said. "I have never forgiven them for that, or for their aid to the slavers who raided my homeworld."

While the conversation soon moved to lighter topics, he could tell that both the Senator and her child were sympathetic to the horrors he had undergone. It was-nice. When dinner had ended he thanked them both and walked to the bedroom he had been given.

I suppose I must try to get some sleep so I don't collapse again like last time.He settled into the bed and, even though he didn't strictly need to, covered himself with the thick blanket. He couldn't really feel the blanket on him anymore than he felt the bed underneath him, but he did feel slightly warmer.

Grievous stared into the darkened room around him, his eyes quickly adjusting to the dim illumination. He wondered how long it would take him to fall asleep. He had slept in the command chair a couple times on his way to the planet, but he was still re-adjusting to the idea of actually needing sleep. He thought of tomorrow, and the speech he would have to make before the Separatist Parliament. And it was as he was thinking of that that his mind faded into unconsciousness.

Grievous dreamt of the past, when his body was still whole, if not his spirit.

It had been a long day. Grievous just wanted to go back to his boxy grey Coruscant apartment, eat dinner, and sleep. But he also had a three trillion credit debt to pay off. A debt which it had turned out he could pay off by getting others to pay off their debts.

He had almost mistook the other alien for a human, but then he had noticed the antennae. Humans didn't have antennae. The face matched his memory of the alien's datafile. Undoubtedly not a lucrative target. But also not a difficult one, either, and every credit collected was a credit closer to finishing his contract. He sighed and began trailing the man. The alien turned around after he had reached an alley.

"Hey, noticed you been followin' me a while," the man said. "What's your name? Are you a potential-customer?"

"Name's Grievous," he said. "And no. Perhaps you should think of me as a-reverse customer."

The alien narrowed his eyes. "What kind of a name is Grievous? You tryin' to sound like a tough guy?"

"Why, no," Grievous said. "That is simply my name. And I do not think that you should have any room to speak on names, Mr. Sleazebaggano."

The alien scowled. "How about you don't talk about my name?"

Grievous crossed his well-muscled arms. His biceps bulged uncomfortably under the sleeves of the brown coat he wore. "Very well, I will not remark further on yours if you do not remark further on mine. But I'm not here to discuss your name, Elan. I'm here to discuss your overdue payment."

"Overdue payment? You must be mistaken," Elan said. "You have the wrong the guy, buddy. But maybe you'd like to buy-"

Grievous brought out a scanner out of one of his pockets and flashed the light in Elan's eyes, causing the alien to blink and hold a hand up to his face.

"Hey, agh!" Elan said. Grievous looked at the readout on his device.

"My retinal scan indicates otherwise, Elan."

"Maybe you just looked at the wrong record."

"I'm afraid not," Grievous fished inside his coat pocket and brought out a datapad. "A copy of your Corellian cruiser loan payments. Please note that the last ten are unpaid. Also, I noticed that the address we have on file for you is not your current address. Perhaps you would like to update it?"

Elan's eyes flitted nervously from Grievous to the dark Coruscant alley around him, probably noting the lack of other lifeforms present in this particularly desolate area.

"Hey, look, I'm kind of short on credits right now," he said, smiling. "But, I do have a deal on deathsticks-"

Grievous only shook his head, his expression dour. "Mr. Hill doesn't accept barter."

"I meant for you, buddy. Old buddy, old pal. Maybe they could even give you a sense of humor."

Grievous stared at the man silently, his face impassive.

The alien's expression became progressively more nervous. "Okay, I won't promise that. But ah, you might actually have fun. Or, whatever approximates that for you."

Grievous lidded his eyes, bored. "How many credits do you have on you, Elan? Why don't you empty all your pockets for me and we'll find out?"

Grievous opened his eyes as the internal alarm he had set earlier went off. Sunlight streamed into the windows in his room, causing a momentary feeling of disorientation as he remembered that he no longer resided in the lightless lower depths of Coruscant.

He rose from the bed, feeling increasingly irritated as he examined it. The blankets, sheets, and pillows were in various states between moderately torn to completely shredded, and the wooden headboard had several new gashes crisscrossing its ornate design.

Perhaps he should stick to sleeping in metal chairs or slabs. He sighed and turned around, walking to the door. It was time to get ready for his speech.

He wasn't looking forward to it.

The Interim Chancellor

Notes

A/N: I'm back with more story!

Thanks to anonymous Guest, Celgress, Aznereth, theRebbs98, and LadySindrak for your comments (on ff.net)! It's always interesting to me to see what my readers think of the story, so I very much appreciate when people are willing to share their thoughts.

Also, since this has been brought up more than once already, I think it might be a good idea to address it here in my author's note:

Grievous has no wives and no children in my AU. They aren't dead or missing, they simply never existed in this continuity. While I am certainly capable of errors and oversights, this is not one of them and is in fact a purposeful change I made from the Legends continuity. While I will be incorporating many aspects of the Legends continuity, I've made a few changes to suit the purposes of this particular story. I feel that my story continuity will in time speak for itself, but since narrative cannot address authorial intention, I felt it was necessary to discuss that a bit here.

I'm looking forward to introducing quite a few more characters, especially from the EU and The Clone Wars series. While I don't think it's necessary to recognize most of them, it might be possible to pick up on some fun extras and/or anticipate something of certain plot points if you do. Though I will sometimes just make characters up as well-chances are that if you can't find the character in a Wookieepedia search, they're just an original character of mine.

"It was the Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi who killed Count Dooku," Grievous said, addressing the Parliament from the podium in the center of the room. Most of the attendees were holo-versions of themselves today, though Senator Bonteri and a few others had dared attend in person.

There was a series of fearful murmurs. Grievous felt his agitation growing. He needed to finish this. He didn't want to be here, in front of these nearly two hundred Senators. It was one thing to talk to a handful of them, and troublesome enough. But this? This was nerve-wracking and infuriating. Anyway, as far as he was concerned, most of the Senators simply weren't worth his time.

"I do not know what story those lying Jedi scum will concoct to justify their summary execution of our Chancellor," he said, the fact that Kenobi and Senator Organa might, at this very moment, be recounting a very different series of events at the forefront of his mind. "But know that his death will not go unavenged. We will not see his like again." And good riddance. He wished he didn't have to paint Dooku in such a complimentary light, but he knew the Count had been extremely well-liked by the Parliament.

"There is more I must tell you," he said. At least ever since he had used the bacta spray he hadn't had any more issues with coughing, and his voice had cleared up. He waited impatiently for the Senators to quiet one another down. Then he continued. "Given Chancellor Dooku's untimely death, stability is of great importance. Therefore, I shall assume full responsibility for the Separatist military, as was planned by the Chancellor. Also, I understand that the interim chancellor shall preside over the Parliament until such time as a new chancellor may be elected by the Council. I will give the podium to whoever that may be, once their name is spoken."

It was then that San Hill spoke up. "I have been entrusted with the name of the interim chancellor," he said.

Wat Tambor then spoke as well. "I, too, was entrusted with that name. As a verification for San Hill's information."

Grievous nodded. The name of the interim chancellor, appointed by Count Dooku, had been kept secret except to a chosen few, supposedly to help prevent the Republic from targeting the person in their attacks.

"Yes," San Hill said, giving Wat Tambor an annoyed look. Then he said, "The interim chancellor is-," he paused and looked up. "-General Grievous."

"That information agrees with my records," Wat Tambor said.

Grievous stared at the two Senators with wide eyes. That couldn't be correct! He didn't want to be involved in Separatist politics! Didn't he already have his hands full enough with their military? Everyone was looking at him expectantly.

"Ah," the cyborg said. "I suppose I will-remain up here for now, then."

He looked around at the various Senators, at a loss for what to say.

The Senators, however, were quick to give their opinion on this turn of events. He heard a considerable amount of support and approval for him as chancellor, which left him feeling irritable. He had never had an interest in leading the Separatists. He thought the belief of many of the Senators that they were somehow less corrupt than the Republic to be ridiculous, really. All they actually had going for them, in his opinion, was their policy against the Jedi.

Of course, not all of the senators were happy about their new chancellor.

"This appointment is most troubling," one of them said. "I worry about how militaristic this will make us appear to the general public."

"We need a strong chancellor who can win this war for us!" another one responded.

"I doubt that General Grievous will continue to be chancellor until the war ends. This war will not end in the next few months."

"Well, perhaps the term of the interim chancellor should be extended to-"

"-I do not agree with extending the term," Grievous cut in quickly. "Clearly the interim chancellor was only meant to be a placeholder until a new chancellor is elected. I will not be running for the office of chancellor. I will still continue to serve you as the Supreme Commander of the Droid Armies as long as this Senate desires that to be so. That is all."

The senators exploded into a series arguments against each other. Grievous stood stiffly at the chancellor's podium. He thought it lucky for the senators that most of them had not actually decided to attend this meeting in person. It meant his desire to kill them was moderated by the current impossibility of that act.

It was then that he heard someone say, "We can't allow this droid to be chancellor! This is an outrage!"

Grievous felt his anger boil over. "Who said that?! I am not a droid! I am not!" He grabbed the podium then, and ripped it from the floor.

The yelling in the Senate dissolved into complete silence. The Senators, both hologram and real, stared at him as if seeing him for the first time.

"Well?" Grievous said, his golden eyes narrowing. "Would whoever insulted me like to repeat what they just said to my face? Or are they too much of a coward to do so?"

More silence. Grievous threw the podium to the ground in disgust. Even Nute Gunray is braver than some of this Senate scum. At least he insulted me to my face. "I will have no more of this cowardice today," Grievous growled. "This meeting is ended."

With that, he stormed out of the Senate chamber and began stalking toward his ship.

Senator Bonteri intercepted Grievous as he exited the Senate chamber. He considered skittering away in his six-legged configuration so that she would be unable to follow, but thought that such a cowardly attempt to avoid confrontation might be a bit hypocritical of him. Instead, he slowed his walk and said, "I apologize for my outburst."

She looked unperturbed. "Well, it was surprising to say the least. Though I must admit that the desire to rip apart solid metal, if not the ability, has at times overtaken me whenever Lestur opens his mouth to speak."

"Was he the one who called me a droid?!" Grievous asked.

"Yes," she said.

"That ungrateful wretch," Grievous said, recalling the other Senator had also been one he had rescued from the Raxus battle. I thought I'd heard that voice before!

"While I very much agree, I hope you might practice more-restraint in the future, Chancellor."

"I will try, but I didn't ask to be Chancellor," Grievous said bitterly. Anyway, I thought removing Dooku's chips would make it easier to control my anger. He would have to ask someone about that. Probably San Hill, since he was the only one around who actually knew about what had happened to him. He'd almost rather ask Kenobi. Not that the Jedi would likely be any help with that even if Grievous had been willing to consult with him. But he hated talking to the banker.

Senator Bonteri gave him a long look. "I think you'll do fine, as an interim chancellor. Dooku may even have chosen you due to your lack of desire for the office. Perhaps he did not want the interim chancellor attempting to seize power."

More likely he wanted someone who he thought Sidious could control, Grievous thought. Until another suitable puppet for the Sith could be found. He didn't voice his suspicions, however.

"Perhaps," was all Grievous said in response. He looked down at the Senator. "Oh, and I-apologize for the damage to the bed. You may let me know if you wish any reimbursement for it."

Senator Bonteri gave him a confused look for a moment before understanding dawned in her eyes. "Oh, that? Don't worry about it. I should have given you something a little more shred-proof, what with those metal claws and talons of yours. Anyway, it's no problem."

"Very well," Grievous said.

"Would you like to go for a walk in the park," the Senator asked abruptly. "I've always found it very soothing."

Grievous looked down at her. "I don't have time for that. I have a lot on my mind right now."

"Clearly," she responded. "However, taking breaks from work is important to mental health. When was the last time you took a vacation?"

"I-" Grievous paused, at a loss for a moment. "My position is too important for such things."

"It's because your position is so important that I've brought this up," Bonteri said. "In this critical time, you'll be taking on an enormous responsibility. Of course you will want to work more, not less. But overwork leads to fatigue, and dangerous mistakes. Even the military gets shore leave."

"And what of the war with the Republic?" Grievous said. "I would never trust some strategy droid to lead the war efforts, no matter how briefly."

"Of course not!" Bonteri said. "But you aren't the only one in our 'droid army' who's not a droid."

Grievous considered her words. That was true. And while he didn't think much of a lot of the other officers, droid or not, a few of them were capable of holding their own. One of those officers was Admiral Trench. The alien arthropod had distinguished himself in many battles, surviving against impossible odds more than once. Yes, he could probably manage things, for a short while. Still, Grievous didn't see the point.

"I cannot enjoy, nor do I require, the usual-entertainments."

"Perhaps not, but surely there is something you'd enjoy doing instead?"

Killing Jedi, Grievous thought, though he suspected that would not be an acceptable answer. A thought occurred to him then. "I would enjoy visiting my homeworld, Kalee," he said instead. He was planning to do that anyway. Not as a vacation, of course, but the Senator didn't need to know that.

"Then perhaps you should!" Bonteri suggested. "You are the chancellor, so you can approve it."

Grievous gave her a sidelong glance. "Did you know I would be the interim chancellor?" he asked.

"No," she said. "I was as surprised as you appeared to be."

It was impossible for him to know if she was telling the truth. San Hill had said that he might not have identified all the Senators with links to Sidious. What if she was in league with the Sith? He didn't want to believe that, since she was the least unpleasant Senator he had encountered thus far. But he couldn't discard the possibility. He decided he would have to devise some type of test to determine it.

"Well, San Hill and Wat Tambor were certainly tight-lipped about it," Grievous said. "They never even told me!"

"Really?" she said. "They were probably hoping it would never come to that. Especially Senator Hill. If his expression was anything to go by, he was quite put out by naming you Chancellor. I hope you won't mind me saying that I thought that was a good sign."

"Not at all," Grievous said. "He's no friend of mine."

"We share that in common, then. I for one would like to see less corporate influence in our Senate."

"Hmmm, that makes sense," Grievous said.

"Well, I suppose I'll let you be off to your ship," Bonteri said.

"What?" Grievous replied. "Oh. Actually, I think I would like to take you up on that walk in the park first. I can spare an extra hour or two before I leave."

Perhaps further discussion will help me determine if she is aligned with the Sith.

The Council's Decision

Notes

A/N: Hello, readers! Here's my new chapter! I took some time to fix it up a bit. I introduce quite a few Jedi here, though there will be more later. Many of the Jedi in the two Clone Wars series will appear.

Thanks to Guest, Celgress, TheRebbs98, and Brievel for your comments (from ff.net), and also to iemaki and Maire_Berry for your recent comments(on AO3)!

Also, I thought I would mention some more about the future romance, now that I've had the chance to plan out my story a bit more. I think it may take some time to really get started in the story, but there will be eventual Obi-WanxGrievous romance. I know a lot of people have strong feelings about pairings and romance in general, so I prefer to mention them sooner rather than later. It just took me a while to make up my mind.

And now, without further ado, I present the answer to 'so what did happen with Obi-Wan, anyway?'

Obi-Wan could hardly believe he was back on Coruscant. Fortunately, his distress signal had been picked up, and a Republic ship had been dispatched for him. But he had spent a soggy few days in the swamp on the small backwater world he had crashed on. And the time period leading up to that had been like some kind of combination of a surreal dream and nightmare rolled into one.

Thankfully Grievous had been true to his word about releasing the Senator. He had talked with his friend just yesterday, when he had first arrived back on Coruscant. Bail was unharmed, if shaken, and was safely back on Alderaan. Bail had said that he didn't plan to disclose the details of what Grievous had done since it seemed that he 'wanted to give all the credit to Obi-Wan'. Apparently Bail had seen the same footage Obi-Wan had of the cyborg General denouncing the Jedi Master for killing Dooku. In any event, the decision whether to release any further information would now rest with the Jedi Council.

The Jedi Council that Obi-Wan stood before at this very moment in the Council Chamber, a round, airy room with large windows on all sides. He looked between Yoda, Mace Windu, Ki-Adi-Mundi, and Eeth Koth, who were attending in person, and Adi Gallia, Plo Koon, and Shaak-Ti, who were attending via hologram. Many of the seats stood empty. Obi-Wan knew that was because many of the Jedi Masters were, at this very moment, engaged in battle.

"As you know from my message, Count Dooku is dead," Obi-Wan began. "But there is much more I have to tell you."

Yoda looked somber. "Bittersweet news his death is. Fallen to the Sith, Dooku had. Unspeakable things he had done. Needed to be stopped, he did. But my padawan, he once was. Served on this very Council, he once did. A moment of silence to reflect on this, we will have."

All of the Council were silent then, heads bowed in silent reflection.

Obi-Wan shared Yoda's mixed feelings on the Count's death. He felt immense relief, on the one hand. Dooku had been their enemy, had proven his ruthlessness and lack of compassion, countless times. And what the Sith Lord had done to Grievous required justice, even if Obi-Wan would have preferred that justice be less-fatal. Yet he couldn't fault the cyborg for choosing to kill the Sith, especially when Dooku had been prepared to kill Obi-Wan and re-enslave Grievous. Still, he couldn't take the same joy in Dooku's death that Grievous so clearly had.

That even a Jedi Master who had served the Order selflessly for decades could fall to the Sith led him to wonder if any of them could fall to such evil. In this time of war, when the pall of Darth Sidious hung over them, it seemed that even the best of them might suffer disillusionment. But Obi-Wan didn't think that disillusionment by itself was what turned a Jedi to the Sith. His own Master Qui-Gon had been disillusioned with the Council as well. No, it was that disillusionment coupled with the willingness to draw on the easy power that the Dark Side offered.

Obi-Wan could only speculate on what Sidious might have said to the Jedi Master Dooku to entice him to embrace that power. The Sith Lord he had faced with Grievous had done things he could never reconcile with the actions of the very Master who had trained his own.

"Continue on, we shall," Yoda said suddenly, and Obi-wan looked up at the aged Jedi.

"Yes," Obi-Wan said, his thoughts turning back to the present. "I have-unexpected news regarding the Count's death."

"We feared the worst when it was reported that General Grievous had captured not only Senator Bail, but also you, Obi-Wan," Mace said. "But it seems that both of you have lived. And it is surprising news that you bring us, of Count Dooku's death. You said that you didn't want to discuss the details of what happened publicly, though, so I can only guess that you must have good reason for your secrecy."

"Yes," Obi-Wan said. And then, taking care to collect his thoughts, he spoke. "You see, I was not the one who killed Count Dooku. General Grievous did."

Though the room was silent, Obi-Wan could see the surprise in the other Jedi's expressions as they looked between one another.

He continued. "What's more, he told me that his motive for doing so was learning that Dooku had been using some sort of mind control on him."

Mace's expression was unreadable, but he leaned forward in his chair. "This is very unexpected. Do you know anything else about this mind control the Sith used on him?"

"Not much more than that, really. He only told me that the Count had done something to his mind. Bail said that he had mentioned some sort of surgery that had removed whatever it was the Count had used to control him, though. We don't know the circumstances surrounding the surgery that removed these control implants, but I think it's highly likely that someone on the Separatist side was involved."

"That makes sense," Shaak-Ti said. "They would have the most opportunity." She smiled wryly. "And no one on our side has reported any impromptu cyborg kidnappings to remove implants we were not even aware of."

"But perhaps they are an ally to us, nonetheless?" Master Koth asked. "If they were willing to expose Dooku like this to Grievous at the potential cost of weakening the Separatists, then perhaps they are also willing to talk to us."

"It's impossible to say," Obi-Wan replied. "Grievous said nothing about who might have been involved in that."

"What about Grievous himself?" Master Koth asked. "What differences did you notice in his personality from our previous encounters with him?"

"They were subtle," Obi-Wan said. "I would suggest extreme caution around him, still. But there is good in him. If there is one difference I've seen, it is that I would trust his word now. I sensed that honor is very important to him, though he may have a somewhat different conception of that than we do."

Eeth Koth frowned. "You say that there is good in him, Obi-Wan," he said. "And I do not doubt your statement. But I think that it is important for us to remember that there is also great evil in him. Perhaps much more than there is good."

"I think all of us have seen that evil," Plo Koon said. "Though you have perhaps experienced that more viscerally than any of us, Koth."

Obi-Wan looked between the three Jedi Masters. Koth had been tortured by Grievous, and Koon had been nearly killed by the cyborg's attempt to eliminate any survivors who might report on the existence of the Malevolence.

"At least I had warning of what I would face with him," Koth said, looking meaningfully at Shaak-Ti and Ki-Adi-Mundi, who had been among the first Jedi to face Grievous and live to tell the tale.

"I understand your reservations," Obi-Wan said simply. He had seen that side of Grievous himself. Recently, even. "But given that his mind was altered against his will, I do not think his past actions were entirely within his control."

"That is a fair point," Koth said mildly.

Obi-Wan hesitated before continuing. "Also-I've discovered the reason for his intense hatred of us."

"Do you mean to say that that was not caused by these implants that were removed?" Mace asked.

"No, though they surely exacerbated his hostility," Obi-Wan said. "But he told me that we aided his people's enemies. While he was not clear on the specifics, he indicated that these enemies were the aggressors, and his people suffered as a result of our aid to them."

"And do you know what planet the General is from?" Mace asked.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "That's the problem. He didn't give me any details I could use to confirm what he told me. I planned to try to find out what I could, though, using what little he did say."

"That would certainly be valuable information," Mace said. "We need to know if these allegations are true."

Yoda nodded. "Yes. But speak of these details yet, do not. Sense that Sidious will try to exploit this information, I do. Say only that Count Dooku is dead, we will. Let others think Obi-Wan destroyed him, we will."

Obi-Wan nodded. "I understand." While the Council had yet to locate any good leads on the identity of Sidious, they had become certain that he resided on Coruscant. Unfortunately, anything more specific on his location had yet to be determined. The Council knew only that they were dealing with a Sith of immense power who had thus far eluded any of the usual methods by which the Jedi tracked such ability.

Obi-Wan's thoughts turned back to the cyborg general. "I'll find out what I can about Grievous."

"Good," Mace said. "Report back to us as soon as you determine the information."

Obi-Wan nodded. One way or another, he would find the truth.

A New Hope

Notes

A/N: Look! A wild chapter appears!

Thanks Celgress (ffnet) and theascetic (ao3) for your comments on chapter 11!

I am really looking forward to introducing more characters. In addition to the many canon characters I intend to involve in this story, I will also have a few OC's to facilitate certain aspects of my story. This chapter introduces a Kaleesh OC. Also plenty more Grievous here. I've written a good portion of the chapters up to chapter 15 by now and some assorted snippets from later in the story.

Grievous had contacted one of the few Kaleesh he remembered having Holonet access, Halari, one of Sk'ar's children. He was relieved when his call was answered almost immediately. The younger Kaleesh had grown considerably since Grievous had last seen him.

Halari eyed him warily. "Why do you contact me using the name of one of our greatest fallen warriors, offworlder?"

"I did not die, young Sk'ar," he said. "But I was forced into service by offworlders and prevented from returning to Kalee. They rebuilt me from near-death, so I may look quite different, but under all of this, I am still the Grievous you knew."

"I-see," Halari said, the expression in his eyes still skeptical. "Then you should really be talking to my father instead of me."

"Bentilais is alive?"

"Yes," the other Kaleesh confirmed.

"I must speak with him!"

"He is not here right now. But I will let him know you contacted me," Halari said. He looked thoughtful. "You do not look or sound like the Grievous I knew. I think somehow you are Kaleesh. Your eyes are Kaleesh, your mask of Kaleesh design, but there are many among us who seek to don the name of our fabled hero. I have met a few of these pretenders myself. If it is really you, Grievous, then you will know what my favorite pastime was as a child."

Grievous laughed. "An interesting test. You liked to look in your telescope, and record the movements of the stars."

"You truly are Grievous, then," Halari said, his voice incredulous. "I never imagined you'd survived."

"Those stars are all full of trouble, by the way," Grievous said.

Halari laughed. "I don't doubt it."

"I see you've grown even taller than me." Grievous said to the life-size holo of the young Kaleesh adult.

"I took sustenance from all those teasings about my height," Halari said. "And now I have my revenge."

Grievous laughed. "That you have, that you have." His mood became somber. "How goes the war?"

"My father still fights, but must do so quietly. He must skulk in the shadows while the Huk boldly take Kaleesh slaves and hide behind the might of the Galactic Republic."

Grievous growled. "They must not be allowed to continue that. I will soon arrive at Kalee. I have the resources to bring the Huk to their knees."

"But what of the Republic?" His voice dropped to a whisper. "The Jedi?"

Grievous unclipped a lightsaber from his belt and ignited its blue blade. "They have already learned to fear me. I have collected the blades of many who dared challenge me to battle. I will relish having new trophies."

Halari's eyes widened. "Then-you can defeat anyone!"

Grievous laughed. "Not quite. But I will be more than a match for the Huk and I will make the Republic flee once it sees the advantage the Huk can give them is not greater than the pain I will offer them." He knew exactly what the Republic stood to gain by aiding the Huk. And while those hyperspace routes were of great tactical use, once they were firmly in the hands of the Separatists, that fact would be of no import. The Huk would have nothing more of worth to beg their aid with, and the Republic would withdraw.

When Grievous finished his conversation with Halari, he had already begun to plan out the battle.

Grievous hesitated, his hand over the communications panel. He had to make this call, as much as he wished he could avoid it. Finally, he pressed a series of buttons, and San Hill was contacted. The Muun answered the call immediately.

"Grievous," he said calmly, his expression neutral. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Yes," Grievous said, his eyes narrowing. "I need to know why I still cannot control my anger."

"You can," Hill said. "And I do think there has been some noticeable improvement in that area since your surgery. But your mind undoubtedly formed certain habits while under Dooku's control." He shrugged dismissively. "You will have to train it out of those. Anyway, podiums are at least not as expensive as droids."

So, I am still not entirely free of the results of Dooku's meddling, then.

"Speaking of droids, I wanted to ask about my medical droid," Grievous said.

San laughed. "Ah, yes, that. Dooku had a rather perverse sense of humor. Given your droid was programmed to keep you under the Sith's control, I've deactivated it and supplied you with a new medical droid of a more standard-"

"Can you instead reprogram EV-A4-D not to answer to the Sith?"

Hill gave him a skeptical look. "Yes, but-are you saying you prefer that one? The personality routine was intentionally designed to be abrasive and-"

"Yes," Grievous said. "I would prefer my usual medical droid."

"Then I'll have his primary co-routines reprogrammed immediately," San said.

"Good. Don't alter his memories or personality, though."

"If you insist, General."

"I do," Grievous said. "Also, I-"

Grievous felt awareness returning now. He was suspended, floating. A feeling of peace. The shapes and outlines he saw were not the trees or sky of his home, however. And directly in front of him stood a blurry but clearly identifiable outline of a thin and pale alien.

"Ah, you're awake!" the figure clasped his hands in front of himself. The voice, too, even with its strange echo and muffling, confirmed Grievous' suspicions.

"Am I dead?" Grievous asked, not sure what to make of the presence of this unpleasant and all-too-familiar apparition. Was this a punishment? What had he done to deserve this?

Mr. Hill laughed. "No, of course not! Though that was a very near thing."

"My-Izvoshra. Are they-?"

"Dead, I'm afraid. All of them," Mr. Hill said.

Grievous felt despair. "I need to return-to-Kalee."

"You are in no condition to be going anywhere at the moment," Mr. Hill said. "However, I do have a proposition for you."

"Please, no more," Grievous said. "There is only one thing I wish to ask of you."

"And what is that?" The banker asked.

"Get out of my afterlife, Mr. Hill."

Grievous blinked. The hologram of San Hill was reading a datapad now.

"Mr. Hill," Grievous said, his eyes narrowing.

"Hmmm, what?" The Muun turned to face him. "You were just standing there, staring off into space, so I thought I'd amuse myself."

"Let us finish this conversation. There is one other matter-"

"It was the memory backlash again, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Grievous said, annoyed at being interrupted. "A particularly unpleasant memory at that."

"Oh, that's good."

Grievous growled. "And why is that?"

"Well, it means your bad memories haven't been repressed. With the memory backlash, they would have to surface at some point anyway, but if allowed to be repressed for too long, they might eventually resurface all at once."

"I'm glad we discussed this wonderful possible side effect."

"I didn't see the point. Why should you worry about it? The possibility was unavoidable. Oh, unless you'd rather I not removed Dooku's little mind control chips?"

"Never mind," Grievous said. "There is one other thing. My other request-"

"The ships and battle droids you requested? Already done. They await you above your fortress on Vassek."

"Good," Grievous said. "I will soon have use for them."

The Librarian's Lead

Notes

A/N: Hello, everyone! Here's another Obi-Wan chapter. Also, I introduce Anakin in this chapter. His backstory is going to have some-changes done to it. None of them will be apparent yet, but I realized that there are some things that bother me enough in the movies that I had to change them. I think his portrayal from The Clone Wars cg cartoon is probably the best one. But it's not just Anakin's personality in the movies that bothers me, but certain plot elements relating to him. Anyway, those changes will become clearer later on. I might also mention when they're about to be introduced if I remember to do that. My planned changes should fix most the issues I have while minimally affecting other plot elements that I do not want to mess around with. While I don't yet know how often Anakin will appear in this story, since he has links with so many other major characters here I felt I should give particular thought to how I was going to present him.

And thanks to everyone who took the time to review! I always read reviews, and I appreciate all the feedback I get from them. I hope I can make this a fun story not just for me, but for others as well. So I try to incorporate any feedback that doesn't interfere with my main story goals as much as I can.

This isn't the most action-y chapter, but I think it has some interesting bits, plus some important setup for later. There will be a bit more action in the next chapter.

Obi-Wan needed to find out the truth before he could do anything to help Grievous. And in order to do that, he had to find out just what planet the cyborg General had originally hailed from. However, his trip to the library was interrupted by a familiar presence.

"Am I ever glad to see you in one piece!"

"Anakin!" Obi-Wan said. "What trouble have you been up to recently?"

Anakin laughed. "Trouble, me? You're the one who's been in all the trouble lately. Congratulations on killing Dooku, old man! Just, save me at least one Sith, okay?"

Obi-Wan laughed nervously. "I only did what I had to."

"Fine, but what's going to be left for the great and mighty Chosen One if you're the legendary Sith-killer? That's two of them now!"

Obi-Wan gave Anakin a stern look. "Jedi do not seek status or fame, Anakin. To strive for such is a form of greed."

"Okay," Anakin said, still smiling. "If you say so, legendary Sith-killer."

Obi-Wan sighed. This must be some sort of repayment from the Force for all the times I tested Qui-Gon's patience,he thought. Still, he smiled back. "I have every confidence that you will far exceed me as a Jedi, Anakin."

Obi-Wan sensed that Anakin drank in the compliment like a man dying of thirst. He hesitated, unsure if he should say something. But he didn't want to be too harsh on his friend and former padawan.

"At least I still have a chance at General Grievous," Anakin said. "Not as good as a Sith, but four lightsabers sounds like a decent challenge."

"You stay away from Grievous," Obi-Wan said. "Don't give me nightmares!"

Anakin sighed. "Okay, I don't want to give you a heart attack, Master."

"You are powerful in the Force, Anakin. But, please, allow yourself to gain the wisdom needed to use that power. Don't lose any more of yourself from rashness." He looked meaningfully at Anakin's gloved hand.

Anakin laughed. "Hey, only three more limbs to go, and then it can't get any worse, right?"

"Don't say that!"

"Glad to see you are well, Obi-Wan," Jocasta said. She smiled, but then her expression grew somber. "I heard the news. About Dooku. I don't suppose he-"

Obi-Wan shook his head, his expression sad. "I'm afraid not. He was a Sith to the very end."

Jocasta closed her eyes for a moment, before looking back up at Obi-Wan. "Then he had to be stopped." She took a deep breath. "So, what do you need help with?"

Obi-Wan told her about the word he was looking for. She proceeded to conduct a lengthy search, after which she finally looked up and spoke.

"No results," Jocasta said.

"What?" Obi-Wan asked. "How is it that every time I come here, I can never seem to find what I'm looking for?"

"Apologies, Master Kenobi," the Jedi librarian said. "But it seems the word 'izvoshra', at least as possibly relating to some sort of lifeform, does not exist in our database. Though as I've stated, there are several languages that use that word to reference an object, or as a verb. In one language it means 'swimming with desperation'."

"Thanks, but I'm certain that was not the intended meaning within the context," Obi-Wan said.

Jocasta sighed and crossed her arms. "I might be able to find whatever it is you're looking for, if you gave me some idea of what that was."

"I'm not sure how much I should-"

"I know, I know, it's all classified," the librarian said disapprovingly.

Obi-Wan smiled. "Sorry. I suppose there is a bit more that I can tell you, without revealing more than I should."

"Let's hear it, then. I'm ready to do some cross-referencing!"

"Well, I first heard the word during an encounter with General Grievous. He said something about his izvoshra being killed. I thought it might be a clue. You see, what I'm really trying to figure out is just what species the General is and what his homeworld is."

"That's an interesting question! It can be quite difficult to figure out someone's species with only their eyes for reference. Unfortunately all I've seen are speculations, but I'll be happy to pull up all the data that might be relevant."

Jocasta seemed to enjoy the research, and Obi-Wan thought that perhaps it helped her take her mind off the grim news about Dooku. Obi-Wan agreed with her that some of the speculations listed were utterly ridiculous, such as the one about Grievous being some sort of trandoshan. Obi-Wan had seen plenty of trandoshans in his time, but none with eyes like the cyborg's.

After several hours of research, Jocasta had cheerfully filled an entire data chip with speculation, rumor, and guesses as to the cyborg's species, discussing some of her personal favorites, though always pointing out a number of flaws in the assumptions behind them.

"So, I hope you can find some interesting leads there. Oh, and you might want to talk to Master Fisto, about it, too."

"Kit?" Obi-Wan asked, raising an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Why? Because of what he saw in Grievous' personal fortress, of course! I've been begging to get him to give me the details for ages but he's always been too busy, flitting from one side of the galaxy to the next, you know."

"What-did he see in Grievous' fortress?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Statues! Of an individual hailing from some sort of unknown species. Some of them were partially outfitted with cybernetics resembling the ones Grievous is composed of today."

"I see," Obi-Wan said. Kit Fisto! He had been away in battle, and presumably would not be available for lengthy conversation. Though perhaps he would respond to a short query for the information. If not, well, then there was another option. "And where is this fortress of his?"

"The third moon of Vassek," Jocasta said.

"Thank you," Obi-Wan replied.

Sith Assassin

Notes

A/N: A new chapter appears! And I'm happy to present one of my absolute favorite characters from The Clone Wars here, Asajj Ventress. I confess that I was initially disappointed that I wouldn't have the opportunity to have her fight Dooku as she did in The Clone Wars series. Since he's dead now, and all. But I have a lot of plans for her, and some ideas for an alternate arc which has the advantage of avoiding being too much of a retread of events in the cartoon. I rather liked many of the aspects of the way her arc was handled in the series, and I may reuse some ideas from it. But I'm not a fan of doing nearly word-for-word rewrites of entire scenes, and certainly not entire arcs. So be prepared for something very different!

As always, I greatly appreciate the reviews! So thanks to everyone who's taken the time to do that. I often reply to reviews via PM (on ffnet). Sometimes I reply to reviews on AO3, but because sometimes I'm weird about replying to things publicly (and they don't yet have a PM system), I might not always be as talkative, so I apologize for that. That doesn't mean I don't appreciate the review, though! And please feel free to contact me via my unspeakablehorror Tumblr or the ffnet PM system if you'd like to talk about the story, or anything else!

Grievous paced on board the bridge of the Invisible Hand. He had to do something about Ventress. It was almost time for the Battle of Kamino to begin. Or, well, it would have been, had he not killed Dooku and decided to delay that in favor of ousting the Huk from his home planet.

So Ventress would likely show up soon, expecting to prepare for the battle. What should he do?

One thing was certain-he wasn't going to allow her to live. After all, she was a Sith, as she had always liked to remind him. The only question that remained for him was whether he should battle her directly or destroy her ship before she boarded.

I know I can defeat her in direct combat, he thought. Still, he did not like the idea of willingly allowing another Sith to step foot on his battleship, no matter how temporary that arrangement might be. But despite the far superior firepower of the Invisible Hand, he was doubtful of its ability to definitively overpower any Force-user. They were too agile, too maneuverable. Still, that very fact might breed complacency in his opponent. Yes, it was possible he could take her out that way, especially if he tried a few-unusual tactics.

Movement outside the transparisteel viewport caught the cyborg's attention, and he saw a familiar ship.

The time for planning had ended. It was time to act.

Ventress dropped out of hyperspace and guided her fighter towards the Invisible Hand. She hailed the enormous Providence-class Dreadnaught before her.

The Invisible Hand responded to her communication almost immediately. But the voice she heard wasn't the one she had expected.

"Ventress," Grievous said. "I was just thinking about you."

"Really," the Sith assassin replied, frowning.

A barrage of laser fire assaulted her ship. Only her unnaturally fast reflexes kept her from being incinerated as she tilted her ship to the right, allowing the solar sail to take the brunt of the blow.

"Yes," Grievous said. "Thinking about how to kill you."

"What are you doing?!"

"I should think that would be obvious. Pity I won't be able to collect your lightsabers. But being a head of state is a lot of work."

"What are you going on about?" Ventress snapped.

"Oh, you didn't hear? Dooku died. And it occurred to me, that I don't really need a Sith assassin. So, think of this as-your retirement package."

"You're going to regret this!"

"Really?" Grievous asked, his tone amused.

"Arrgghh," Ventress growled. "I'm going to mount your ugly face on my wall!"

"Good luck with that," Grievous responded, laughing. Ventress cut the communication as she steered her ship into an evasive roll. She'd heard all she cared to from the treacherous cyborg. Whatever was going on, she didn't plan to let that bottom-feeder take her out. As she maneuvered her ship away from laser fire and a stream of Vultures, she began weaving towards her target-the bridge of the Invisible Hand.

Two blasts from either side of her grazed the edges of her ship, but a quick turn had minimized the damage. Ventress glanced in the directions of the attacks. Hyena bombers.

Then several round-shaped droid fighters attacked her ship. Ventress dipped her ship below the blasts. Then she snarled and fired at her attackers. She hadn't seen these before, but she'd heard something about a newer class of droid called tri-fighters.

She dodged an incoming volley of tiny ball-shaped droids that had been released by the tri-fighters.

Grievous really went all-out with this. Still, he severely underestimates my abilities, as he always has.

As she got closer to the massive ship, a figure resolved itself from behind the viewports. Grievous, standing with his hands behind his back, watching her ship from inside the enormous dreadnaught.

Ventress grinned. Why don't you just paint a target on yourself, fool? She concentrated her laser fire on the cyborg general's position, and was satisfied to see his eyes widen as he lunged away from the lasers piercing the transparisteel viewport.

Well, that was fun. Time to go, though. Ventress knew she didn't have the strategic advantage, and she doubted her attack had actually killed the cyborg. Might need a bomb for that. A nuclear bomb. Which I do not currently have.

She entered in the hyperspace coordinates and the ship prepared for the jump. Dodging a few more lasers and battle droids, she weaved along the length of the Invisible Hand until the threats faded away with the blue lines of hyperspace.

When she exited the jump, she was in a tranquil, abandoned part of space. She tapped the console of her communications panel. There wasn't an immediate response. But Ventress waited patiently. Eventually, her patience was rewarded. The image of Sidious appeared.

He frowned disapprovingly. "I don't recall giving you my number."

"You didn't. But I have my sources," Ventress said. Like hacking into Dooku's communication lines. She liked the vague wording of 'sources', however. Made it sound more mysterious, like she might have spies or something.

"I see. So, why have you contacted me?"

"Grievous attacked me! For no reason at all!"

"Yes," Sidious said. "It seems he's-gone rogue."

"Also he claimed that Count Dooku is dead. Is it true?"

"That is true," Sidious said. "Apparently by the General's own hand. Or so he claimed to me."

"The traitor!" Ventress hissed. She took a deep breath. "I am prepared to take up the Count's mantle and-"

Sidious held up a hand. "Do not presume. The master chooses the apprentice, Ventress. Not the other way around."

"Oh. So you have found someone to replace him already?"

Sidious scowled. "A master may take his time in choosing a new apprentice, should his old one fail him."

"If you wish to find a new apprentice, you should have someone to challenge them with. Like me. I understand that you are a very busy Sith Master-surely you don't have the time to test all those who aspire to be Sith yourself right now. And, if it just so happens that I kill a few, or all of them, in the process-"

"Very well," Sidious said, holding up a hand. "I will give you a chance, Ventress. Meet me on Coruscant. I will send you the time and location now. Don't be late."

"I won't be," Ventress said, smiling. "And I promise, I won't disappoint."

The Uninvited Houseguest

Notes

A/N: My taxes are finally filed and I am free! Free! Ahem. So, yeah, I finished this chapter up.

Thanks to Celgress (ffnet) and Myabers013 and monetrepreneur (ao3) for their reviews of the previous chapter!

This chapter has a decent bit of action I feel, and I quite enjoyed writing it. I'm really looking forward to the next few chapters as well, where I hope to really raise the stakes and introduce some new characters, environments, and starting in the very next chapter, show a secondary character perspective that hasn't previously appeared. Eventually, I'll have chapters or sections from all the secondary characters' viewpoints. Which certainly doesn't mean I'm going to ignore Grievous, or stop having chapters and scenes from his perspective. But the story I have in mind is going to be best told from a wide variety of viewpoints. That also means you get a more up close and personal view of what other characters think of the cranky cyborg general. Anyway, I'd be interested to know what people think of this approach regardless.

Grievous paced down the length of his fortress. While he was here, he had decided to check on EV-A4-D and ask the droid a few questions. What San Hill had said about side effects earlier had made him wonder if there weren't other side effects of the surgery that the banker didn't see fit to tell him about. In any event, he'd much rather ask his medical droid these questions than his former boss.

As he was walking, his mind wandered to his earlier encounter with Ventress. That had been-an unfortunate failure on his part. Clearly he was going to need a better approach if he was to be rid of her. Unfortunately, he no longer had the element of surprise. On the other hand, he knew he'd get another chance. Ventress would be intent on having her revenge on him now. So he wouldn't need to find her. She would find him.

Grievous turned a corner.

Ronderu hit Qymaen's left sword out of his hand, knocking it to the ground and then twisted fluidly to his side, kicking him in the shin. Qymaen growled and fell into the leafy jungle undergrowth. His new ally emitted a sigh of frustration. Qymaen looked up at her.

"Do you even know how to use those things?" Ronderu asked, her eyes narrowing. "How have you survived this long, much less gained your reputation, without the ability to execute a simple double slice?"

"I have other skills," Qymaen protested, looking up at her from the ground.

"Like what? Flailing?"

"Flamethrowers," Qymaen replied, indignant. "And slugthrowers. Anyway, no one uses swords anymore except for the hunting ceremonies. You're a relic, Ronderu." Certainly he had been impressed with her ability to kill the Huk who had attacked them with such primitive weapons, enough to ask her to show him how it was done, but he hardly thought it was necessary.

The other Kaleesh rolled her eyes."A relic who's three years younger than you, and at least three hundred times more skilled. In a close range fight a good sword is always better than a projectile weapon. Faster. More reliable. Less expensive, too."

"I've always found that putting a few holes in my enemies and setting them on fire has been more than sufficient. Anyway, salvaging from the remains of my deceased foes supplies me with a steady stream of credits."

"And I've always preferred to spend my credits on myself and not my weapons. But if that's how you gained your legendary reputation, then you can show me how to 'put holes in my enemies and set them on fire', and I'll show you how to dismember, disembowel, and decapitate them. Deal?"

"Sure. But you're getting the better end of that deal."

"So modest!" Ronderu remarked, and laughed.

Grievous looked around, taking a moment to adjust to the sudden transition from the thin streams of sunlight and omnipresent plant matter from the memory to the harsh artificial light and precise architectural lines of the corridor. The memory filled him with sadness, but also a deep pervading fondness. He laughed. I do not think either of us were particularly modest about anything, ever. He looked back up then and continued on his way.

Eventually, he reached the medical room. EV-A4-D looked up at him as he walked in.

"You look perfectly fine," he said, his photoreceptors dimming. "What do you want from me?"

"I had some questions for you, Doctor," Grievous said. He sat down on the metal chair in the room.

"I'm not a psychologist," the droid responded.

"Yes, you are," Grievous said. "Anyway, that's not the type of question I wanted to ask."

"You don't want to talk about your feelings? Good. I don't want to talk about your feelings, either."

"I recently had the control chips Dooku put in my mind removed," Grievous said.

"Yes, I've been informed," the droid replied. "Congratulations, Master. I tried to tell you about them many times, but my programming never allowed me to be direct or remove them myself."

"Yes, I realized what you had been trying to tell me after the implants were removed," Grievous said. "I do-appreciate that."

"Oh, no," the droid said. "You do want to talk about your feelings. Look, I'm not going to give you an inspirational talk. I don't want to know about your childhood. Don't make me do this."

"Are you even capable of giving an inspirational talk?" Grievous asked.

"Yes! Of course I am!" The droid said. "I could bring you to tears if I wanted!"

"I'll take your word for it," Grievous responded, amused. "But I just wanted to know what all the possible side effects of the implant removal are."

"Oh," the droid said. "Well, memory backlash is the most likely. There is also a possibility of particularly traumatic memories surfacing all at once, which could cause long-term psychological paralysis. Basically, you'd be reduced to a weeping hunk of metal and organic bits, Master. Assuming, of course, that you still had the energy left to weep."

"Sounds fun," Grievous said, his eyes lidded. "Can these-flashbacks happen when I'm fighting?"

"Yes, but it's very unlikely," the droid said.

Still, I need to keep that possibility in mind, Grievous thought. "Anything else I should be aware of?"

"Occasional bouts of uncontrollable rage," the droid responded.

"Wasn't that one of the things that removing the implants was supposed to get rid of?" Grievous asked.

"Yes," the droid said. "But certain side effects of a procedure often mirror the effects of the original problem. Anyway, that should be an improvement over constant uncontrollable rage."

"True," Grievous said. Of course, all of this had already been explained to him by San Hill. But he had wanted to hear the droid's explanation of the effects which, as he had suspected, had revealed details to him that Hill's explanation had not.

"Certain forms of psychotherapy might alleviate the symptoms, though inspirational talks are not included among those forms. Thankfully."

The droid shined a light in Grievous' eyes. The cyborg blinked.

"Your organic reflex responses appear normal." The droid stepped backward. "I want to see your other responses." The droid pointed with three needle-shaped fingers towards a collection of scrap metal that had dropped down from the ceiling and hung suspended in midair by a thread. "Pretend that is a Jedi Master."

Grievous rose from the metal slab in one fluid motion. His two arms ripped into four and he grabbed the lightsabers at his waist, slicing all four of them through the metal.

The droid's gaze lingered on the red lightsaber. "Very good. How did you get that one?"

"A gift from Count Dooku, after I separated his head from his body."

"Ah. Then I do not think the rest of the reflex tests will be necessary."

"Are there any other side effects I should watch for," Grievous asked.

"One more," the droid said. "Difficulties with concentration, which may surface with or without your other symptoms."

"Very well." He considered the droid for a long moment and finally came to a decision. "I am about to undertake a very important mission. I may have need of your services, Doctor. Please make preparations to join me on the Invisible Hand."

The doctor's photoreceptors brightened. "Really? Oh, excitement! Adventure! I'll make the preparations immediately!" And with that he hurried out of the room.

As Grievous was walking down the corridor, he heard a sound. He drew two of the lightsabers at his waist and ignited them. Opening the door to his right, he saw the intruder looking up at his statue.

"Kenobi!" he growled.

The Jedi looked over at him and ignited his lightsaber. "Don't take this the wrong way, Grievous, but I was hoping you wouldn't be here."

Grievous brought his lightsabers down on the Jedi, who blocked the blow. The cyborg become a whirlwind of attacks then, driving the Jedi backwards.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Kenobi, but it's time for you to die!"

"There may be some damage to the magnaguards at the entrance," Kenobi said. "Sorry about that."

"What are you doing here?!"

"I'm trying to help you!"

"By breaking into my home?!" Grievous yanked at the Jedi with his one of his new magnetic implants, but Kenobi had firmly anchored himself to the ground somehow, probably by using the Force.

"It was the only way! You never told me who your people were!"

Grievous growled. "This again? I told you, I don't need or want your help. You Jedi are nothing but trouble!" Grievous felt his anger flare as Kenobi blocked blow after blow.

And then Obi-Wan's evaded the cyborg's defenses and sliced through one of his wrists. A metallic hand fell to the ground.

"Sorry about that!" Obi-Wan gave the cyborg a look of dismay.

"You're going to be sorry all right!" Grievous attacked the Jedi with all his considerable speed, rotating blades, slicing in vicious diagonals, and lashing out with his feet. The Jedi blocked his attacks and flipped away from him. Grievous attacked him with a blast of electricity then, and saw with satisfaction that he staggered to the ground. He ran toward the Jedi, laughing darkly.

Obi-Wan called the saber Grievous had dropped earlier to his own hand, and blocked Grievous' strike with the two lightsabers crossed in front of him.

Grievous attacked with another electrical blast, but this time Obi-Wan deflected the electricity back at the cyborg with his lightsaber. This temporarily shorted some of Grievous' own components and the cyborg staggered backwards.

Obi-Wan used the opening to cut off another one of Grievous' hands.

"Another accident, Jedi scum?"

Breathing heavily, the Jedi answered, "That one was on purpose."

Kenobi looked tired, but far from exhausted. Grievous wanted to kill his opponent but-he had a battle to get to. Helping Kalee was more important to him than destroying Kenobi. If the Jedi injured him further now, that could delay him from bringing vengeance to the Huk. He backed up, still holding two lightsabers, but only in a defensive pose. "If you leave now, I will allow you to live."

Kenobi smiled. "I'll leave if you tell me-"

Grievous rolled his eyes. "Kaleesh. I am Kaleesh."

Kenobi tilted his head. "I don't believe I've heard of the Kaleesh." He gestured to the statue. "Is that you?"

"Yes," Grievous said.

"Very handsome," Kenobi said.

Grievous growled in annoyance. "Are you going to leave now?"

"Well, I-"

Grievous narrowed his eyes. "If not I just might change my mind about allowing you to live."

"All right. I'm leaving, see?" Kenobi backed up slowly toward the door. " I won't trouble you any more. Nice place you have here, by the way-"

Grievous growled. "Enough! Just go, and take your foolish banter away from me!"

"All right," Kenobi said, still smiling. He reached the door and pressed the control panel to open it. Inclining his head slightly, he said, "I'll take my leave of you, General. But I promise, I will make good use of what you've told me."

"Doubtful. You and I have a very different definition of 'good'," Grievous said.

When Kenobi had left, Grievous sighed. Something would have to be done about his two missing hands. EV-A4-D was not going to be happy about this.

A Collection of Vendettas

Notes

A/N: Well, I've completed another chapter! And, as I said, this one will introduce a new POV, though not from a new character.

Thanks to Celgress and LadySindrak (ffnet) and to brucebannerfangirl (ao3) for your recent comments!

This chapter is the longest chapter I've yet written for this story (though by no means is it the longest chapter I've written for any story, haha). There's quite a bit going on here, and I introduce a lot of plotlines here that I'll be coming back to later on. So there's some things here that can be interpreted in a few different ways. I plan to clarify those things further later on, but if you want to tell me what you think is going on, I'd certainly be interested in hearing that!

San Hill leaned back on his enormous sofa, watching one of his favorite HoloNet dramas. Dressed in a formal-looking but comfortable suit, he was prepared for any impromptu holo-calls while also being able to enjoy what would likely be an entirely free evening for him. The serving droid brought the first course of his dinner in. The Muun turned his attention to the various delicacies arrayed in front of him. There was a platter of various vegetable dips with crackers, a pureed orangeroot mushroom soup,an elaborately constructed model of the city of Harnaidan made entirely of tangy-sweet dressing-drenched salad, a variety of savory and sweet breads, Dorian passion fruit, fringe cake coated with a platinum-gold frosting, and a tall glass of Muunilinst spring water topped with gold flakes frozen in ice. He sighed contentedly and began nibbling the fringe cake as he watched the holodrama.

 "When you said we'd spend romantic evenings on your beautiful home planet," the Muun woman said, shivering in an envirosuit, "You didn't say that planet was Scipio."

"Scipio sparkles with the beauty of a million diamonds!"

"More like this place is a frozen rock! Anyway, is that giant furry thing over there some sort of Wookiee? Exactly what kind of company do you keep?"

"No," the Muun man said unhappily. "That's a Griber beast. They're-carnivorous."

The creature roared, and the two characters began running and screaming in opposite directions.

Hill laughed uncharitably. Of course, neither of the characters was going to die-it wasn't that kind of show. But their romance was of course completely doomed to failure. Really, one of the things he liked best about this show was not having to endure the overbearingly sappy romantic tropes so common in human holodramas. Sadly, this genre was not popular with most Muuns.

If any of his high society associates were to discover that he watched tacky holonet dramas like this, he'd never hear the end of it. But he couldn't help what he liked. And he simply didn't understand the appeal of things like the bubble opera. So dull.

The banker had started on his salad-city when he received a communication. Annoyed, he paused his show and put down his golden utensil, pressing a long finger to the communications panel built into the small table in front of him.

"Security and Collections, sir," the voice from the panel said. "There's a bounty hunter here demanding we let them in to see you."

The banker scowled. "Which one? I already paid all of them in full."

"They're not one of the ones you contracted, sir."

"Well, in that case, tell them to leave. If they don't, then kill them."

"Yes, sir," the voice said. Hill switched off the communication, giving an exasperated sigh. Shouldn't that be obvious? Good help is so hard to find. The consequence of promoting the only remaining competent officer I had, I suppose. But Riklon Tost had done as well in his much deserved new position as his old one. I really do need to do something about this deplorable situation, though. It's too bad that I don't have Grievous to deal with these things anymore. He frowned. Dooku just had to go and ruin everything. As much as he despised Grievous' natural unruly attitude, Dooku's changes to the General's mind had been worse. He had barely recognized Grievous in the rage-consumed creature who answered only to the Count. And that last part had been a particularly raw point for the banker. For if Grievous answered only to Dooku, what would stop Dooku from one day using him against San Hill? Certainly not principles, the Muun thought derisively.

And of course there had been the other matter of what Dooku had done to San Hill himself. That had been-unacceptable. At least the Count had been dealt with.

Sidious was still at large, but he was far away, doing whatever it was deposed Sith Lords did. Hill knew that everything Dooku had done had been at the behest of his distant master, and so was eager to see that master eliminated by whatever means possible. But without his apprentice, and without the support of the Separatist leadership, what was the worst that Sidious could do? For all of his fearsome powers, his influence was what had made him truly dangerous. Once Grievous tracked him down, Hill was confident that a simple orbital bombardment would settle that loose end.

He switched the holodrama back on, trying to focus on the simple plot, but found his mind kept wandering back to the bounty hunter. It was hardly the first time someone had tried to kill, kidnap, or maim him. And it was unlikely to be the last. He didn't like to admit, even to himself, that such a thing had any power to distress him anymore. But even with his small army of security officers and droids, it did.

He sighed and switched the channel to one of the Republic's news stations. He needed something a little more substantial to occupy his attention right now. Of course, he had access to the CIS shadowfeeds as well, but he already knew what was on those. He'd paid for half of that propaganda himself.

A twi'lek reporter was covering a story about a clone trooper rescuing some small twi'lek child. How sickeningly maudlin, Hill thought to himself. But also-How delightfully devious. A clever distraction from the larger question of the ethicality of using soldiers born and bred for battle in the first place.

Of course, Hill had taken pains to ensure the shadowfeeds pointed out the obvious hypocrisy in the Republic's use of soldiers trained from birth to fulfill a single role, given their supposed ban on slavery. But he certainly wasn't above taking the low route-it was just harder to make people feel attached to the expendable droid soldiers or to someone like Grievous, who exuded an air of constant deadly menace. On the other hand, we do have children. What was that Bonteri kid's name again? Lup? Lum? I should make sure he's been interviewed on how he's been saved by our fearless General Grievous. And if I can just get Grievous to stand around at the same time, maybe holding a loth-cat or something, we can make him seem-almost sympathetic.

The Ryloth story had ended, and he watched the next transmission with rapt attention, and no small amount of loathing for the figure who stood front and center in it-the Republic's Supreme Chancellor Palpatine.

Of course, Palpatine was nominally his political enemy, but that was not the reason for the Muun's virulent hatred of the unassuming human. Unlike many of the others who had joined the Separatist movement, San Hill had no true grudge against the Republic. The fact was, he still did a great deal of business with them, and he had no intention of ever making the IBC banks exclusive to the CIS. No matter which side won this war, he intended to turn a profit.

No, the real reason he hated Palpatine was that he knew, in all three of his hearts, that the man had somehow been responsible for the death of his Uncle Hego. What infuriated him was that he didn't know how, or why, and no one believed him. He didn't have any proof. And that was simply-incomprehensible. He had conducted his own very expensive investigation after seeing how badly the authorities had botched theirs, but to no avail.

Hego Damask had not died from some fluke failure of his transpirator! Especially not on the night before Palpatine's election as Chancellor. What a coincidence! When it had been clear that Hill had been unsatisfied with that explanation, one of the Coruscanti officers had gone so far as to hypothesize that Damask may have initiated the failure as a means to suicide, a suggestion which Hill hadn't even bothered to dignify with a response. No, Hego Damask hadn't killed himself. However, there were quite a few others who might have liked to cut his life short.

Unfortunately, the killer had very meticulously covered their tracks. Hill's own investigators had found nothing to confirm his suspicions. Hego had been killed without the use of any conventional weapons, and without anyone laying so much as a finger on him. And yet he had not been poisoned. He had been drinking a bit more than would be considered moderate, but that was nothing out of the ordinary for him.

Hego had had a great many enemies. But it had been his close associates who San had felt would be the most likely culprits as they would have considerably more ability to access the private apartment where he had died. And none of them more likely than Palpatine the Innocent-Hego's nickname for his most unusual friend.

The problem was, that was very much how Palpatine always appeared-innocent of any crime, the victim and never the aggressor. But since San's uncle had held the human in such high regard, he knew that image to be nothing more than a front. San Hill had known his Uncle Hego very well. The man had been San's family in all but blood, after all, and had raised the younger Muun himself after the abrupt death of his parents. And so San knew that Hego would never have bothered to take in his confidence the man Palpatine appeared to be. Which meant that the man who he actually was must be a very different man indeed.

But that man hid behind a benevolent and charming mask so convincing, that San had been able to find nothing on him. Not only nothing linking him to Hego's murder, but no incriminating or embarrassing information of any kind at all. It was infuriating.

No one, and certainly no politician, was ever that clean.

"So I emphasize that we must place our trust in the Jedi," Palpatine was saying with that ever-earnest expression of his. "And they will end this war."

The Muun bared his teeth in a grimace.

The news segment ended then, and Palpatine's face was replaced by that of a kaminoan senator. Hill's expression relaxed, and he yawned and switched off the news, deciding to check his messages. He brought up the message menu on the HoloNet interface. There were a couple hundred that hadn't been filtered out by his exacting algorithms, but only two had been flagged as urgent. He selected the first message, frowning as he saw the face of a Republic senator. And not just any Republic senator, but really the last one he would have expected to contact him, after that business with him sending her straight into Grievous' clutches. True, it had been a while ago, but surely she hadn't forgotten that?

"Chairman Hill," Senator Amidala's hologram began. "I contact you not as a Senator, but as a client of the IBC."

Hill steepled his fingers. Interesting. By their own laws, the Senators in the Republic were barred from contacting him. However, it was of course still legal for them to conduct business with him. It was a legal grey area for them to send him messages like this directly, however, so it was highly unusual that one of them might choose to do so.

"I have been informed by your associate, Nix Card, that you are the only one with the authority to approve my loan request," she said, frowning.

Which would be Card's not-so-subtle method to reject the request. But it seems she didn't take the hint?

"So I've submitted the paperwork to you," the Senator continued. "I know you will see the value in this investment in the next generation of-"

Hill muted the transmission and brought the documents up, glancing over them. Hmmmm, it's for the Naboo educational system. How quaint. I don't see why Card didn't just-

He paused on a line near the bottom of the document. Oh. There, a single signature had caught his attention. Clovis.

Now he understood the problem. Card couldn't officially deny the request because he didn't possess the authority to override Clovis.

That human is becoming more powerful than I would like, San thought. He didn't trust Clovis. Not after how terribly he had botched that one major mission, proving not only how unobservant he was, but also how dangerously sentimental. The human had promised to bring Senator Amidala to the side of the Separatists. But after seeing how the events of that sordid affair had played out via holorecording, Hill had judged that Clovis was much more attached to her than she to him. He should never have been allowed such influence. Unfortunately, it seems our remaining Tonith wishes to use him to rise through the ranks.

And rise through the ranks Clovis had, notwithstanding his recent blunder. And San had watched, growing progressively more concerned, and now certain that this was a power bid by the Toniths. He imagined that family would be all too happy to see himself ousted from power, even, apparently, if the one who did so was not of their blood, or even a Muun. After all, San Hill represented their largest failure, to hold onto the position that had once been theirs.

It appears I must arrange for Clovis' early retirement, he decided. Sighing heavily, he signed the holo-document. But it seems I must also approve this loan, so that he might be less likely to anticipate that. See, we're all friends now, no hard feelings about about your incredible incompetence or your schemes to unseat me at all.

Scowling, the banker hit the send button. I wonder what unpleasant, illegal little secrets Clovis has been keeping? The Muun was certain he could find out, with some digging. Clovis, after all, was no Palpatine. But he would have to unearth a failure that the rest of the IBC leadership would agree was unacceptable. His attempts to get Clovis imprisoned, fired, or even just demoted over the failures and improprieties he had pointed out in the holovid evidence he possessed had failed. The entire episode had been waved off by the others as impulsive mistakes the human would either grow out of or learn to better conceal in the future.

Hill's thoughts were interrupted by an alarming hissing sound. He turned to look at the door. A pair of dark energy blades were cutting through it. His eyes widened, and he hit the panic button under the table several times.

The oval shaped cut-out the blades had created in the door's metal was kicked in and a towering masked bounty hunter stalked into his suite, immediately heading towards him. The chairman scrambled over the back of his couch and ran towards his bedroom. If he could reach it, then perhaps the blast doors could delay his assailant for long enough for the backup security team to arrive.

A blaster bolt grazed his shoulder. Hill yelped and fell onto the carpet. All three of his hearts were pounding as he tried to rise from the floor.

A foot on his spine pushed him back to the ground. "Don't move," a synthesized voice said. "Or I'll shoot you again."

The banker lay prone on the floor, his hearts' rate slowing and his mind racing. A threat. Which means they need something from me. Which means they can't kill me immediately.

"I would like you not to do that," Hill said slowly, one side of his face embedded in his plush red carpet. Stall. Stall for time. "Are you a Mandalorian? Those darksabers are very impressive. Only, your armor doesn't look Mandalorian."

"I've killed a few," the bounty hunter said. "But stop stalling. I need you to contact General Grievous immediately."

"I am, of course, happy to assist you in any way possible," the Muun said mildly. "Unfortunately, that is not currently possible for me in my-present position."

Hill felt a blaster press into the back of his neck. The foot lifted from his back. "If you try to run again, you will dearly regret it. Get up. Slowly."

"Very well," the Muun said. Where are they?! As he was walking towards the communication console near his couch, he said, "I applaud your skill. You've apparently managed to demolish my security. But-if contacting Grievous was all you wanted, wouldn't it have been easier to simply-do that yourself?"

"Would I be asking you to do that if it was?" the bounty hunter said, prodding him in the back with the blaster.

"I suppose not." They reached the table and the Muun slowly settled back onto the couch and entered the communication code to contact Grievous. The bounty hunter must have realized that he would have keyed his communication console to respond only to his own commands. It will also be checking for my vitals. Hill hoped the bounty hunter didn't plan to kill him. In the event his sudden death was detected, he had set up his security system to detonate an explosive that would take out the entire suite and anyone in it. It had been done when he'd felt in a particularly vindictive mood about his family's tendency towards death by assassination. Though at the moment it seems a pitifully small consolation.

"I hope you're not planning on killing me when you're done with me," he said.

"That depends on you," the bounty hunter said. "How long do you think before Grievous answers?"

"I don't know," Hill said. "He often delays responding to me."

"But he does respond?"

"Eventually."

"That is what is important, then." The bounty hunter sat down on the couch next to the Muun and picked up one of the plates of food on the table.

"Please, feel free to help yourself," Hill said, trying not to allow too much sarcasm to seep into his voice. Seriously? Are they all dead? The banker was beginning to lose hope that his security was ever going to show up. It was time to try a different tactic.

"Being a bounty hunter is a dangerous business," Hill said. "With uncertain pay. Have you ever considered a more stable career option?"

The bounty hunter set their armored feet on the table. "I prefer the flexibility of my current arrangement. Stability is-overrated." They set the food plate back down.

"If you say so," Hill said. "In that case, whatever your current employer is paying for you to do this, I could pay you a lot more just to leave. Enough for you to retire. Assuming, of course, that you don't kill me."

"Oh, I'm not being paid," the bounty hunter said. "This is personal business."

The Muun frowned. "A grudge?"

"You could say that."

"Against Grievous?"

"Guess again."

"Me? Have I done something to upset you?"

The bounty hunter gave a metallic laugh at that. "To put it mildly!"

"Can this something be solved by very large amounts of credits?" The banker's tone was hopeful.

"You wish! I will not rest until-"

A holo-image of Grievous appeared then. "Yes, Mr. Hill-" he paused and his eyes narrowed. "Who is that with you? What's going on?"

The bounty hunter pressed a button on the side of the helmet to retract the segmented metal mask. Underneath was the face of a Kaleesh.

"Apologies. Do you recognize me now, Qymaen? It has been many years-"

"Ronderu?!" The cyborg's eyes widened momentarily. Then they narrowed. "This is some sort of trick. Ronderu is dead."

San Hill was also trying to understand what was going on. He did know who Ronderu was. Grievous used to talk about her all the time before he'd been turned into a memory-suppressed cyborg. She had died before Hill had ever met Grievous, though. At least, that's what Grievous had believed. The Muun looked over at the hulking bounty hunter who had a blaster aimed towards him. Grievous had said that Ronderu had been an incomparable warrior.

"This is no trick, I assure you," Ronderu said. "The Huk tried to take me as a slave. They waited until you would think I was dead. They told me that you would think I had drowned, died from my injuries. But they placed me in a bacta tank, and then brought me back to their homeworld to parade in the streets like a trophy."

Grievous clenched a clawed fist. "They must suffer."

And if I don't think quickly, I'm going to suffer, San thought. Well, I'm going to be dead, so probably not suffering, but even so...

"Oh, they did," Ronderu said. "The price for their arrogance was paid in blood. I killed all of the Huk who were involved in my capture, and freed their slaves. It was a good revolt. But I knew that I could not drive them from our homeworld, not after the arrival of the Republic, of the Jedi. Not unless I searched the stars for answers. And it seems I have found them."

The two Kaleesh began talking in their native language. Meanwhile, Hill had been trying to gauge whether he should attempt to run again or appeal to Grievous. He didn't think he'd get far if he tried to run. And that might only incite Ronderu's ire toward him. Maybe he should wait to bring the issue up. They would probably be irritated if he interrupted now.

"How did you know who I was?" Grievous asked. Speaking in Kaleesh, the cyborg General at least wasn't concerned their Muun onlooker would understand them. "Why didn't you contact me earlier?"

"So many questions, Qymaen. But I'm more than happy to answer," Ronderu said. "I knew who you were because I saw you on the HoloNet."

"I don't exactly look like I used to."

"True, but I've seen you use a number of the attacks I taught you with those lightsabers of yours."

Of course. Dooku had tried to train his old style out of him, but it had never entirely been supplanted by the new knowledge. In fact, he had often mixed those attacks in with the Jedi styles he'd been taught in order to surprise and disorient his opponents.

"And I did contact you earlier. Many times. But I never received a response."

But I know if I had seen a message from Ronderu that I would have-a thought occurred to Grievous then. My messages were being filtered by Dooku.

"Ronderu," Grievous said. "I am sorry to have such doubts but-I must be certain you are who you claim to be."

"Of course," Ronderu said. "I would expect no less from you, Qymaen."

"So I must ask you some things that only the two of us would know."

"Obviously."

"How did you get the nick on your left ear?"

Ronderu growled. "A Huk blaster shot when I was a child in Grendaju. I sliced him to pieces, but not for that, but because he'd killed my entire family."

"Where did I master the double diagonal slice?"

"We were in that abandoned Huk warehouse perhaps five miles from Thensdown."

"When was the last time we made love?"

Ronderu laughed. "Only in your dreams, Qymaen."

Grievous chuckled. "There are no more doubts in my mind, then. It is you, Ronderu."

The two Kaleesh had begun to laugh. That must mean they're in a good mood. Maybe even a-merciful mood?

"I'm so glad that I could help bring you two together," San said quickly. He gave the two Kaleesh a nervous smile. "But, ah, I was just wondering if our friend Ronderu here could consider perhaps not killing me?"

Ronderu turned to face him and growled. "You were responsible for forcing Qymaen to leave Kalee. You were responsible for him nearly dying!"

Hill shrunk back from from the blaster she aimed at him. He gazed imploringly at the cyborg's holo-image. "General Grievous, I would really appreciate it if you would-help me out here." Hill's voice had begun to shake. He hated looking this pitiful. But if it kept him from getting a blaster bolt through the head...

The holo-image of Grievous sighed. "He was the reason I left Kalee, but he was not the reason I nearly died. I have the Jedi to thank for that."

Not entirely true, but this would be a very bad time for me to address that little detail, now wouldn't it?

"Nevertheless, should he not pay for what he has done?" Ronderu asked, her gold eyes glaring at the Muun. Hill cringed.

Grievous shook his head. "For all the difficulty and pain he has caused me, he has also assisted me in a vital way. I ask that you not kill him."

The Kaleesh bounty hunter glared at the Muun for a long moment. "You are very lucky, San Hill," Ronderu said at last. "You have caused both of us much trouble. But Grievous seems to think that you are not deserving of death. So I will let you live."

Hill breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm most relieved to hear that."

Ronderu looked back to Grievous. "We will return to Kalee at last, then?"

"Yes," Grievous said. "It should be a simple matter to stop at Munnilinst on my way to Kalee. I will meet you there, and then we shall-retake our homeworld." Their were tears in his eyes. The two Kaleesh began talking in soft voices in their native language again.

How disgustingly sentimental, San thought. He was glad that whatever sweet nothings they had chosen to exchange were not being expressed in a language he could understand. Still, I'm enjoying my continued existence, so I suppose I shouldn't complain.

He frowned as a thought occurred to him. It would take several days for the General to arrive at Munnilinst. Where was Ronderu planning to stay in the interim?

The banker got his answer when Ronderu finally ended the communication, dissipating the hologram. She looked around the suite appraisingly.

"This entire room is yours?"

"This entire building is mine," San said.

"Does anyone else live with you or visit you? Family? Friends? A spouse?"

"Nooo," San said slowly. "No one else ever comes here besides my-personal security." Who was apparently all dead.

"Ah, good. I wouldn't want to inconvenience any innocents." She settled back onto the couch. "This is going to be great! Usually I just get some dingy low-level alley or cantina backroom. This is certainly the nicest place I've had to hide out in."

Hide out-here. San kept his existential horror to himself as he watched the Kaleesh start in on his food, propping her armored feet on his table. Or he tried to, anyway. He wasn't looking forward to the next few days.

A Podrace on Coruscant

Notes

A/N: Here's my new chapter! This one features Sidious and Ventress POVs. I really enjoyed writing Ventress again, and I'm looking forward to developing her backstory and personality. Sidious is-an interesting character to write. Also sometimes writing him makes my skin crawl slightly.

Thanks to Celgress, Guest, LadySindrak, and ShadowBlah2 (ffnet) and Marie-Berry, monetrepreneur, Myabers013 (ao3) for your recent comments! Also, thanks to everyone who read my story on AO3 and contacted me in other venues. I really enjoy talking with reviewers, but due to the 100% public nature of responses on AO3, I am not always willing to do so on that site as I often don't feel comfortable with my conversations doubling as public performance art. Please feel free to message me either on fanfiction dot net or Tumblr at the same username if you'd like to talk, though!

A lot of the background and not-so-background details of the previous chapter owe their existence to my reading of the novel Darth Plagueis, from which I pulled quite a bit of backstory and details on Muun physiology from. Did you know that Muuns are herbivores? Well, except for Plagueis, who eats dead bats and fish and the occasional freshly slaughtered warrior's heart, but he's clearly an outlier and should not have been counted.

Also I pulled in some of the Muun-related stuff from The Clone Wars cgi series as well with the whole plotline around Amidala and Clovis. I really like Muuns, so they're going to feature prominently in my story, and San Hill is not going to be the only important Muun character.

As for Ronderu, well, she's going to be an interesting character to flesh out. I have a very particular direction I want to go with her, and due to the ambiguous nature of her backstory, it doesn't even necessarily contradict the canon (though I certainly doubt such an interpretation was ever the intention of the canon). Additionally, I'm really going to enjoy fleshing out Kaleesh society as well. It's going to be fun when all four of my Kaleesh characters can meet up!

Anyway, I hope that the current chapter will give some clues on upcoming threats to Grievous and friends*!

*by which I mean both the actual friend friends and the definitely not really friends at all but are stuck with him anyway friends, haha

The hooded Anakin walked side by side with the Chancellor, who had cloaked himself similarly in borrowed Jedi robes. Sidious found a dark amusement in using the trappings of the Jedi to skulk around just like the Sith he truly was.

"It won't be much farther now," Sidious said.

"You said that an hour ago, sir," Anakin replied.

Sidious laughed lightly. "And I meant it! I thought the Jedi taught you patience!"

"It's not that. You're not boring me. But I wouldn't want to be called to some battle before I even got a chance to see this retrofitted speeder of yours. Anyway, won't someone notice you're missing if we're gone for too long?"

"No, I've taken the day off," Sidious said. "Anyway, I have the solution to your problem." He held out his hand. "Give me your comm."

Anakin handed the device to the Chancellor. One corner of Sidious' mouth quirked upward as he threw the device off the walkway and into the darkened void below.

"Hey!" Anakin ran in front of Sidious, staring fruitlessly over the railing into the blackened abyss below them.

"It was for your own good. The Republic shall have to manage for some short time without you, Anakin," Sidious said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You can't always be at its beck and call."

Anakin sighed. "I guess you're right, Chancellor."

"Of course I am," Sidious said smoothly. "Now, right this way. It's just past this next turn here."

Sidious observed Anakin thoughtfully as they walked the short distance to the speeder. If he could make haste in turning this 'Chosen One', he wouldn't need another makeshift apprentice. The Jedi have no conception of what you truly are, Anakin. Only I know that you are not a creature of prophecy, meant to aid the Jedi in 'balancing' the Force, whatever they may mean by that. Only I know that you, Anakin, are a creature of the Sith, created by our tinkering into the fundamental nature of the Force. And you, like all of our creations, will ultimately serve our will.

"Wow!" Anakin said. "It really does look like a podracer!"

"You like it?" Sidious asked, giving the Jedi an indulgent smile. "It's yours."

Anakin gave him a wide-eyed look. "I couldn't. Jedi aren't allowed-"

Sidious frowned. "You deserve more than the Jedi allow you, Anakin. Besides, I am not bound by the rules of your Order."

"Still, they'd never let me-"

Sidious sighed. "I understand. Which is why I've rented you a space for it in a storage facility." He pressed a key card into Anakin's hand. "It's yours."

Anakin looked down at the key card, then at the speeder-turned-podracer. "Are you sure?"

Sidious crossed his arms. "Do I appear uncertain to you?"

Anakin laughed. "I don't think I've ever seen you uncertain about anything."

"Then you've answered your own question."

Anakin's expression was still doubtful, though. "It would be another secret to keep from the Council."

Sidious gave him a sympathetic look. "I apologize. If you think it would be too much trouble-"

"No," Anakin said. "It's not your fault." He pocketed the key card and smiled brightly. "Thank you, Chancellor."

"No, thank you, Anakin," Sidious said. "For everything you have done for this Republic. For standing against the evil without, and the corruption that lies within." He gestured to the racer. "You first."

They both settled into the two seats, and removed the hooded Jedi robes to reveal their usual clothing. Anakin started up the vehicle and it bolted into motion. The momentum pushed Sidious back into the seat.

"You all right there?" Anakin asked, giving the older man a concerned sidelong glance.

Sidious smiled, laughing. "Is there a reason I wouldn't be? You know, you can go faster. There's no traffic at all here." The entire place was abandoned, in fact. It was one of the Sith Lord's favorite haunts for that very reason.

"Yeah, I was just worried it might be too fast for-you."

Sidious snorted at that. "You underestimate me, Anakin."

Anakin raised an eyebrow and smiled deviously. "All right. You asked for it, old timer."

The vehicle picked up speed and then Anakin began to spin it upside down in tight loops.

This will be a worthwhile trip even if I make no progress on my objective, Sidious thought, closing his eyes momentarily and focusing on the sensation of the acrid-smelling Coruscant wind on his face. If there was any mundane act he enjoyed more than racing, than the feel of immense speed and momentum, Sidious could not bring it to mind. Certainly it was a welcome change from attempting to appear awake while bores like Orn Free Taa droned on, or having to endure yet another harrowing heart-to-heart with Senators Bail or Mothma, or, worst of all, Amidala. He sighed, thinking of how incredibly tedious his life had become. The last time I did anything truly exciting was when I killed Plagueis. Maybe this little setback with the Separatists will not be as much of a disaster as I thought, if it requires me to do something more interesting than sit through endless Senate meetings.

"Not bad, but you could try to be a bit more adventurous," Sidious suggested.

"Really? I thought you'd be begging me to stop by now," Anakin said. "Everyone else hates my driving."

"You must be joking," Sidious replied, smiling serenely as the vehicle lurched out of the way of a row of exposed girders at the last possible second. "I trust you completely, Anakin. Who wouldn't?"

Anakin laughed. "You might be surprised. You are holding up really well, sir. And I mean, especially for someone your age."

"Can you keep a secret, Anakin?"

"Of course," the Jedi said instantly. "You've always kept mine."

Sidious smiled. "I used to be a bit of a racer, myself. Not podracing, of course, but I was quite good in a speeder in my day."

Anakin laughed. "Really?"

"You don't believe me?"

"No, it's not that. It's just-this is a deep, dark secret for you?"

"I think you underestimate what the tabloids can do with the slightest bit of-unusual information."

Anakin scowled. "No, you're right. Reporters will do anything for a story."

"I suspect you understand that from a very personal perspective."

"To say the least," Anakin responded.

Sidious gave him a sympathetic look, but didn't say more on the subject. Instead he asked, "How is your mother?"

Anakin smiled and his expression brightened. "Doing well. She's started a class recently to learn Aurebesh."

The Sith Lord gave Anakin a benevolent smile. "I'm glad to hear it." He had once privately fumed over the act that had brought Anakin's only parent to Coruscant less than a month after the Battle of Naboo, but had come to accept that, in this, Padme's meddling had actually done him a favor. Shmi was Anakin's mother, yes, but she would never inhabit his world mentally even if she did so physically. So close to him, and yet, so truly far away.

Palpatine, on the other hand, understood Anakin, understood his world, his interests, his joys, and his greatest fears. Shmi's presence, Sidious had realized, had only served to highlight to Anakin just what she was unable to provide in the way of parental guidance as he grew into an adult in an increasingly complex world she could neither hope to understand nor help him to navigate.

It had also made the Sith Lord's assassination attempt of her shortly after Anakin's adventures on Geonosis an incredibly simple affair. And when Anakin had foiled that attack, Sidious had felt the darkness unfold in the young Jedi as he had not simply killed her would-be murderers, but tortured them mercilessly before finally ending their lives. Another secret shared only between Anakin and Palpatine, as Anakin had ensured that neither Shmi nor anyone else was present when he 'dealt with' the attackers.

Thus, what had seemed an irritating setback to Sidious at first had instead been turned into a fortuitous circumstance.

A true Sith Lord can always work with whatever the universe may offer.

Sidious looked idly up at the sky. Far in the distance, he saw a tiny gleam of chrome and yellow. Insignificant except for the occupant he sensed inside it.

Ventress. Right on schedule.

He smiled. And now the real fun begins.

Ventress brought her rented vessel down on the landing platform in the deserted area called The Works. Her usual ship was undergoing repairs in a distant space station-even if it had been in peak condition, it was a bit too identifiable for her tastes to be landing on Coruscant. The vessel she was in now was also a fighter, but one of Nubian origin. She was just about to open the hatch when she saw an unusual vehicle speed right past her.

Ventress narrowed her eyes. Skywalker. A realization came to her. Not a coincidence. A test.

She raised the ship back up from the launch pad and took off in pursuit of her foe.

The vehicle Skywalker rode looked to be a standard speeder at its core, but had been retrofitted with gear more often seen in the podraces of Malastare or Tatooine. Is he trying to podrace-by himself? Guess that's the easiest way to win.

She had the ship bring up a zoomed-in image of the vessel and her eyes widened in surprise. Looks like he brought the Chancellor along for the ride. She grinned. Two for the price of one.

She fired a volley of bolts towards the pod, severing one of the enormous engines powering it. Skywalker sped up in response and somehow reattached the broken engine through the Force. Ventress sped her ship up to match the speed of the racer. Pressing the sequence to place the ship on autopilot to follow the other vehicle, she opened the hatch window and jumped onto the left fin of her ship, directly across from Anakin's vehicle. She ignited her twin lightsabers.

"Skywalker! Looks like you could use some competition!"

The Jedi scowled, gritting his teeth. "Ventress."

"Now that introductions are out of the way, we get to the fun part. Do you want to die by lightsaber or by crashing?" She laughed as the Jedi seemed to realize his predicament. She spun her lightsabers lazily and walked towards the racer.

"Anakin!" The Chancellor said suddenly. "I'll drive. You fight."

"Are you sure-?" Anakin started.

"Yes!" Palpatine said, his eyes wide.

The Jedi didn't argue any further and jumped out of the seat to the side of the speeder as the Chancellor took the controls. Anakin ignited his blue lightsaber and clashed it against the blades Ventress held.

"I thought I sensed a dark presence," Skywalker growled.

"So glad to make an impression," Ventress hissed trying to push him back into the speeder.

The speeder-turned-podracer shook erratically, forcing Ventress to use her Force powers to stay anchored to the wing of her ship. She ducked as they passed a bent pole, her ship's right wing scraping the side of a building. The racer went into a steep dive then, and her ship followed suit, essentially copying the Chancellor's motions with the racer.

"Maybe the Chancellor should get his license revoked," she remarked. "His driving is terrible."

"Pretty sure-he did that-on purpose!" Anakin parried her slashes and then slashed back at Ventress, who leapt backward toward the cockpit of her fighter.

"In that case, perhaps we're better off without his direction." She used the Force to yank the Chancellor from the driver's seat and pulled him towards her. Dooku had impressed upon her the importance of taking the Chancellor as a hostage, rather than killing him outright. And so she realized this would be the perfect opportunity to use that one bit of neglected tech she had acquired. She grabbed the wide-eyed Chancellor by the front of his elaborate robes and activated the nanotech device stored in her lightsaber. A small light on her saber handle indicated that the nanoprobe release had been a success.

"Don't move, Jedi, or your Chancellor-."

Anakin didn't waste a moment to use the Force to grab the Chancellor back. He supported Palpatine in his left arm while holding his lightsaber out towards her from his right hand. "You'll pay for that, Ventress," the Jedi growled, his expression dark.

Ventress laughed. "Well, aren't you a vindictive one. I think it's time for me to go, though." She jumped back into the cockpit of her ship and turned off the autopilot, turning the nose of her ship up right before it would have joined Skywalker's doomed vehicle in an explosive crash against the side of a building. When she reached the top of the building, she saw Skywalker had jumped off the side of her ship and onto the building. He still held the Chancellor in his left arm. She didn't pursue them further.

You think you've won, Skywalker, she thought. But the Chancellor is still my hostage. He just doesn't know it yet.

Ventress hated waiting.

It had been almost a full standard day. After the battle with Skywalker she'd returned to the space station where she had dropped her ship off earlier to pick it up. Then she had fallen asleep in front of the communication panel on her now-repaired ship, only to now be jolted awake by a harmless passing freighter. She had spent any time she hadn't been sleeping second-guessing whether her instincts about the encounter with Skywalker had been correct. Had Sidious meant to appear? Had the whole thing been a freak coincidence despite the certainty she had felt otherwise? The anticipation and worry was nearly unbearable. But she would bear it if it meant she would finally be named a Sith. Surely Sidious would make her his apprentice when he learned of what she had done with the Chancellor. She called up her nanoprobe program and watched idly as coordinates flashed across the flat holoscreen.

At any moment, she could make those numbers still...

But she needed to prove to Sidious that the deed had been hers, and hers alone.

She thought back to the man who had supplied her with the nanoprobes. Technological terrors that could rival the powers of a Sith in some respects, the knowledge of their existence had caused Ventress considerable consternation. Their inventor, an otherwise unimpressive human, had been willing to sell these most dangerous inventions to the highest black market bidder. As such the probes she had just used had been her only supply. Not because of any issue with the money, but because she had run their creator through with her lightsabers, slagged all his datapads, and bombed his lab to oblivion. As Dooku would've said, such power was not meant for mere mortals.

She frowned. She had to admit, she kind of missed the deceased Sith Lord. He'd been a difficult taskmaster, but had never seemed to doubt her abilities the way Sidious did.

Suddenly a holo-image of Sidious appeared, and Ventress sat up straight in her pilot's seat. "Lord Sidious!"

"Ventress," Sidious said. He smiled. "So, how did you find the meeting?"

Ventress frowned. "I wouldn't call it a much of a meeting with only one of us in attendance."

"Oh, I was there," Sidious said. "Observing. You simply didn't see me."

Ventress tried to imagine the Sith Lord standing on some rusted skyscraper holding macrobinoculars to his face. The image seemed-unlikely. He probably doesn't need anything like that, though. Probably just uses his Force powers to enhance his vision. Still, he must have been awfully sure Skywalker wouldn't spot him.

"In that case, what is your assessment of my accomplishment?"

Sidious frowned. "Don't you mean your lack thereof? I didn't see anything accomplished besides a bit of property damage, Ventress."

"All right. Then perhaps you missed it."

"Missed what?" Sidious asked.

"When I dispatched a series of nanoprobes into the Chancellor."

The Sith Lord crossed his arms in his robes. One corner of his mouth quirked upward. "Did you now?"

"Yes, he won't even notice they're there. They'll serve as a tracker, and can also kill him via brain stem cauterization-I have the remote activator right here."

"Really? Impressive."

"Should I-?"

Sidious held up a hand. "Not at this time. Do not do anything with the probes until I command it, or I guarantee you will lose any chance at becoming my apprentice."

"As you wish, Lord Sidious. So, what now? Did I pass your test?" Surely I will be named a Sith now that-

"You still did not kill Skywalker."

Ventress felt disappointment. Disappointment and anger. "He's really hard to kill!"

"Hmmmm, perhaps. But if you can't even take down a Jedi, my other prospective apprentice will grind you into the ground."

"You found another candidate? Who?!"

Sidious laughed. "I may tell you, in time. If you can complete my next task for you."

Ventress tilted her head. "What is this task?"

"I want you to travel to this Outer Rim location," a star map appeared next to the holo of Sidious, with a flashing red dot placed in the Unknown Regions.

Ventress frowned. "Is there even anything at that location?"

"Oh, yes, I assure you there is," Sidious said. "But more importantly, someone who will be very useful to my plans resides there."

"You want me to kill them? Torture them?"

"No," Sidious said. "I want you to bring them to me, alive and well. Do not under any circumstances bring them to harm."

Ventress frowned. "With all due respect, Lord Sidious, this sounds more like a mission for a courier than someone to be trained as a Sith."

Sidious smiled. "Being a Sith isn't all fun and bloodshed, Ventress." His expression grew serious. "If you are to be my apprentice, I need to know that you will follow my commands. All of my commands."

"Of course, Lord Sidious. Who is this person I must bring you?"

"His name is Mitth'raw'nuruodo," Sidious said.

"Mith-Raw-Nu-What?" Ventress asked. The name had entirely too many syllables for her liking.

Sidious sighed. "I'll send you the phonetic spelling so you can practice it until you get it right. He is to be treated with the utmost respect."

"Understood."

"Oh, and Ventress?"

"Yes?"

"While I will again impress upon you the importance of not bringing him to harm, there are no guarantees that he will act in kind. I will send you a message from myself which may gain you his cooperation. But if he does not agree to the offer in my message, he is to be brought to me, unharmed, regardless. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Lord Sidious."

"Good."

Sidious ended the communication. Ventress stared out her viewport at the asteroid and its space station companion in the distance, grimacing. She still hadn't been named a Sith, and worse, she'd been sent on some menial errand instead of a real mission.

She sighed, typing coordinates into her ship's hyperdrive. Let's just get this over with.

Reunion at Munnilinst

Summary

A/N: Well, here's the new chapter! Now with 100% more Grievous! I very much enjoyed writing the last chapter, and it sounds like those who reviewed enjoyed reading it, but I'm sure most of you would like to see some more Grievous as well, so here he is again, in all his cyborg glory. This is a Grievous POV chapter, but with significant appearances from Ronderu, San Hill, and a new Muun OC.

Thanks to The Necropolis, Celgress, ShadowBlah2, and DragonBowl (ffnet) and kybercron (ao3) for your recent comments!

Ah, I had so much fun writing the battle scene last chapter! And, as you may have guessed from the end of the last chapter, Mitth'raw'nuruodo is going to show up in later chapters. If you've read certain EU novels then you know who I'm talking about. I might introduce other EU characters in the future, depending on if I can think of something interesting they can add to the plot, but I expect most characters will be from the prequel movies or one of the two Clone Wars series. I'm likely going to introduce more OC's as well-usually I add an OC because there's a certain kind of character that would fit well into the story I'm trying to tell, but I don't know of a similar-enough character in the canon that would fit all the specifics I want them to have. Also, if there's a character you think would be a really cool addition to the story, feel free to suggest them! I've already received some interesting suggestions for characters from The Clone Wars series that I plan to incorporate. I can't guarantee that every suggestion will appear, but quite a few of them probably will. In addition, I enjoy discussing all the cool Star Wars characters out there!

Also, while I do expect it to take a while for the Obi-Wan/Grievous romance to really get going, I'm very much looking forward to writing it once it does. I don't plan for the rating of this story to ever exceed the current Teen rating, but I also like to make the main romance fully live up to that rating. Now, of course, considering that Grievous doesn't have a body incredibly conducive to the sexy make-out times, I'm going to have to be creative, but I do have some ideas. Obviously there are other components to a romance besides that, and those will also be included, but I will not be excluding the more physical aspects.

Grievous stared pensively out the window of the shuttle as it descended from the skyhook's suborbital launch apparatus to Harnaidan. He was impatient to see Ronderu in person at last. He just wished, that of all the places they could have met again, that it hadn't had to be here.

Munnilinst was not intrinsically an unpleasant planet. Quite the contrary, actually. The green and blue world was covered with forests, plains, scenic mountains, and calm oceans, all of which were enhanced by a larger-than-average temperate region. The skies were clearer than those of most any other inhabited planet due to the tight pollution regulations, the cities filled with tree-lined walkways, tube transports, and restrained skyscrapers. And what little interaction Grievous had had with the denizens of this world besides San Hill and his ilk had seemed to hint that a fair number of friendly, pleasant people dwelled here.

But that was the problem. Most of his time on Munnilinst had been spent directly in the service of one Mr. Hill and his equally unpleasant corporate associates. And so Grievous regarded the planet he was rapidly approaching through the lens of those less than pleasant memories.

"Ah, home sweet home," Mr. Hill said, exiting the skyhook shuttle in front of Grievous. He smiled fondly at the scene before them. "This," he said, gesturing to the cityscape surrounding them, "is where you'll be staying for the next-little while. Eventually, I'll need you on Coruscant, but for now, you'll stay here with me as part of my personal guard."

Grievous frowned. "What about paying off Kalee's debt?"

"That will occur as we have agreed," the Muun said, glancing up at him. "It's all in your contract."

"I can't read my contract," Grievous said, frowning behind his mask. He had made that clear to the banker already. It wasn't that he didn't know any Aurabesh-it just wasn't yet up to par with his spoken Basic, and the contract was full of specialized jargon and words with more letters than his eyes knew what to do with.

"You can have a protocol droid read it for you," the banker said, waving a hand dismissively. "There's nothing in there we haven't discussed. But I assure you that your planet's debt payments have already begun, and if you perform all the tasks I assign you, those debts may be paid off in as little as thirty or forty years."

"That's-a really long time," Grievous said.

Hill looked over at him, regarding him with mild curiosity. "You think so? How long is your species' natural lifespan?"

"Perhaps 90 years or so," Grievous said.

"Ah, that's unfortunate," Hill said, frowning. "I suppose you might be-rather old-when your contract is completed."

"Is there any way I can finish my contract more quickly?"

"Hmmm, I suppose," Hill said. "Yes, I will look into it. I'll not keep you past retirement age, I assure you."

"Thank you," Grievous said cautiously.

"Think nothing of it," Hill said. "You are a rare find, Grievous, and I have little doubt that your services, however brief they may be, will be of great value to the IBC."

Hill's eyes flitted to the people around them, and he frowned. "There is one other thing."

"Yes?" Grievous said.

The banker held out a hand. "Give me your mask."

Grievous narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"Because," Hill said, "it does not conform to my company's dress code. Also it is attracting attention."

"It's mine," Grievous growled, looming over the banker menacingly.

Hill pulled his hand back, his frown deepening. Grievous heard the Iotran guards and MagnaGuards behind him shift their weapons. A word from the Muun would be all it would take for them to attack Grievous. He could probably still win, but that would defeat the purpose for which he had come here. The Kaleesh backed down and reluctantly removed the mask.

"But if you insist I not wear it, then I will put it away."

"Good. I've been criticized already for my decision to hire you, given your-background. I will stand by that decision, but it would be in your own best interests to avoid appearing overly-primitive."

"-again, please state your name and purpose," A Muun man wearing a blue jumpsuit said, looking over at him with a slight frown. Grievous shook his head as if to shake away the memory.

"Apologies," Grievous said. He answered the questions without much thought and was soon allowed to exit the shuttle. He had an airtight excuse to be visiting the planet, after all. San Hill had personally requested his presence. That Hill's request had been made under considerable duress was not something that need be known.

He walked onto a wide pathway that wound through the city. A crowd of pedestrians flowed along the path. Most of them were Muuns, though Grievous saw the occasional group of Iotrans and a few aliens of various species who appeared to be tourists.

He thought back to the flashback he had had to the first time he had been here. He had tried to stay optimistic about the situation, but he had known even before that time that Hill's interest was not in helping him, but in having him serve the banker and his company. Grievous had not had much of a choice in agreeing to Hill's offer, though he wouldn't have continued enduring such dishonorable work at all if the Muun hadn't kept to his end of the agreement. But he hadn't broken his word on that, at least. The famine caused by the Republic sanctions had been alleviated.

As he looked up, he noticed a Muun woman was standing in the middle of the path. Other Muuns walking past her gave her a wide berth, not looking at her as they passed. She was wearing a tattered grey robe with a hood and she held a cane, though from what he could see of her face and hands, she did not look particularly elderly. She smiled up at Grievous, and that was when he saw that her eyes were a filmy white. "Have you any credits for a poor blind woman?" she asked.

Grievous stopped in front of her. He was unused to random strangers approaching or speaking to him. They usually avoided him due to his intimidating appearance. But he supposed this one wouldn't be aware of that.

"I apologize," he said. "But I do not have any credits on me." He wasn't on Munnilinst to buy anything, after all.

She tilted her head, her blank eyes widening, though she showed no other sign of surprise or fear. "Chancellor Grievous?"

"Yes," he said, somewhat unhappy at the reference to his new, unwanted title. "I am Grievous."

"Good. I've been waiting for you."

Grievous narrowed his eyes. He didn't know anyone from Munnilinst, excepting San Hill and his associates and a few of the Muuns who served in the Separatist military. He certainly didn't know this woman. "Who are you?"

"My name is Lora Far," she said. "And I believe that I have something that you are looking for."

"And what is that?"

"Force abilities."

Grievous narrowed his eyes further, his stance shifting slightly. "Are you a Jedi?"

The Muun woman laughed. "Goodness, no. I've never been off Muunilinst, and the Jedi are not allowed here. In any event, I don't hold to their ideology."

"Then are you a Sith?" A clawed hand trailed towards one of the lightsabers at his waist.

"Again, no. Their philosophy holds no appeal to me."

The hand stopped its path towards the lightsaber.

"In that case, how did you come to learn about your powers?"

"They made themselves apparent to me at an early age," she said. "I am mostly self- taught, but I've occasionally encountered others like myself who have sometimes shared their own insights with me."

"And how do you plan to help me?"

"I have visions of possible futures. It's how I knew you would be here." She tapped her cane around her until it hit the top of a rock. Gesturing with a hand, she lifted up the rock from the side of the path. Another gesture, and it began to slowly spin in midair. "I also have many of the standard talents one might expect of a Force-sensitive, and I've learned a few of the more unusual abilities as well."

Grievous considered the Muun's words. "And what do you wish in return?"

"Well, I will expect to be paid," she said. "I'm not a Jedi, after all. I don't have a Temple to feed and clothe and house me. Also, I'm not a warrior of any sort, so I wouldn't suggest bringing me to any battles. I can defend myself adequately against the more ordinary sort of troublemakers, but that is the extent of my fighting abilities. As I said, though, my talents can be helpful in anticipating future threats, among other things." She held out her hands, still holding her cane in the left. "Now, as you may have guessed, I am currently-unemployed. So, what do you think? Do you want my help?"

Grievous considered his situation. The Separatists currently had no Force-sensitives of any kind on their side. And while he had once fought a war against the Jedi with the aid of the Sith, he was now fighting against both of those ancient and powerful Orders. It hadn't occurred to him that there might be Force-sensitives who didn't align with either group, but now that he thought about it, it was obvious that such individuals would exist somewhere within the immensity of Galactic space. The single Force-sensitive Muun in front of him would not be sufficient to defeat both the Jedi and the Sith, even if she had been a battle-hardened warrior. But recruiting her help would be a start. Perhaps she would be able to find others like her as well.

"Yes, I like this idea," Grievous said. "What do you want to be paid?"

The amount she requested was ridiculously low, so Grievous offered to triple it, and she agreed to the offer.

"Excellent!" Lora said, smiling, her hands clasped together. "So, where to now? Do we return to your ship?"

"Not yet," Grievous said. "A friend of mine is currently in the company of a certain troublesome IBC executive-I'm here to meet up with her so we can travel to Kalee."

Lora frowned. "Really? That sounds unfortunate. Is she being detained by them?"

Grievous lidded his eyes and said in a quietly amused voice, "No. In fact, I'd say it is rather the other way around."

Lora had followed Grievous to San Hill's residence, which was the same tall, light green tower he had spent countless hours inside of as part of Hill's security team. The gate it was protected by had been unlocked by Ronderu for their arrival. Inside, they passed through the banker's large, intricately sculpted garden.

The Muun woman didn't ask further details about where they were going, but instead talked with the cyborg about the Separatist government and her visions.

"I've heard that a lot has happened lately, with Dooku's death and all," she said. "I'll admit, I was reluctant to be involved with any of this, despite my situation, but I had the most terrible vision of what would happen if the Republic wins this war."

"Really?" Grievous asked, concern in his tone.

"Yes," Lora said. "I know it is only-a possible future-but right now it is also an all-too likely one."

"What did you see?" Grievous asked.

"The total subjugation of the Separatists, and, inexplicably, the complete destruction of the Republic as well. Uncountable casualties on all sides."

"How does this come to pass?"

"It's not clear," Lora said. "Many things in Force visions are not. But I think I may be able to see more from this future in time." She frowned. "To achieve sufficient clarity may require delving more into the Dark Side than I would like, though."

"You would become a Sith?"

"No," Lora said. "That is a particular philosophy on the usage of the Dark Side, just as the Jedi employ their specific beliefs in their usage of the Light Side. I find them all a bit strange and superstitious, to be honest. No aspect of the Force is intrinsically good or evil. Dark Side abilities do not have to be offensive or harmful, and Light Side abilities can be turned to unsavory uses. Though I admit to favoring the use of the latter, as I find that the former requires an exhausting expenditure of emotion. Such intense feelings do not come naturally to me, especially anger."

Well, that's very much the opposite of my current difficulties, Grievous thought ruefully. An idea occurred to him then. "Could you use someone else's emotions in place of your own?"

"I-I don't know," Lora said, sounding surprised. "I hadn't considered that. I'll have to investigate the possibility."

As they entered the tower and took the series of elevators up its length, they passed through the security checkpoints Grievous remembered-large open lobbies with no apartments or offices of any sort attached to them, just a single door to the next elevator. Each lobby was strewn with demolished droidekas, chunks of MagnaGuards, and streaks of dried blood. Ronderu must have dealt with the bodies earlier. She had always been tidy like that.

When they reached the top floor, Grievous finally saw a place he'd never been-A smaller lobby attached to a suite with a metal door that had been cut clean through. He looked through it and saw Ronderu in the room on the other side. She saw him as well, and ran to him.

Grievous and Ronderu embraced, then pulled apart and clapped each other on the shoulders.

"It's about time you got here!" Ronderu said. "There is no more battle to be had in this place, and the futile pleadings of its sole inhabitant cease to amuse me."

"Where is he, anyway?" Grievous asked.

She gestured to another set of doors. "He stays in that bedroom of his most of the time. Apparently he has everything he requires to survive in there, which leads me to wonder what he needs this room for. And that one! And that one!" She pointed to two other doors in the suite.

Grievous laughed. "So then you've had all the rest of this to yourself?"

"Mostly. Every so often he would come out here to try to get me to leave."

Grievous felt amused. "I can only imagine how he expected to accomplish that."

Ronderu laughed, but then her face grew serious. "I'm sorry I let those Huk get the better of me and let you think I was dead. None of this would have happened if-"

"There was nothing you could have done," Grievous said. "There were too many of them." He was silent for a moment. "After I saw-what happened, I tried to call you up from the Jenuwaa Sea."

"Fool," Ronderu admonished him. She looked at the floor. "I tried to do the same with you."

Grievous laughed. "All those years I cursed the gods for doing nothing, and here it was because there was nothing for them to do."

Ronderu smiled.

"I wish we had never been separated," he said.

"I feel the same," Ronderu said. "Though I wonder if we were not meant to be apart for a time, to seek power outside ourselves sufficient to defeat the Republic forces who aid our enemies."

Grievous sighed. "Perhaps."

It was then that Grievous saw the bedroom door open and Hill look over towards them from the other side of the room, his expression brightening as he approached. "Grievous! Why, how truly heartswarming to see you two reunited-and ready to leave these premises, I presume." His gaze then moved to Lora, and he grimaced. "Who is this? Is there a reason you've allowed this riffraff to trail along with you?"

Lora's mouth compressed into a thin line. "Is that-San Hill? The IBC Chairman?"

"The one and only," the banker replied with a frown, his yellow eyes narrowing.

"Do you know him?" Grievous asked.

"Only from what I've heard on the HoloNet," Lora said. "But I can sense the presence of others in proximity to me, and what I sense right now is an endless well of malice and arrogance. Which is-about what I would have expected."

Hill looked up at Grievous. Pointing at Lora, he asked, "Again, who is this? Why is she here?"

"She's my new employee," Grievous said. Then, because he was feeling contrary, he added, "She says she can see the future. Clearly she has an uncanny ability to read people as well."

Hill scowled at him. "You hired a mystic? Their powers aren't real, you know."

Grievous tilted his head. He had been about to explain about her Force abilities, but noticed that Lora was making no attempt to clarify the situation and in fact seemed faintly amused by the misconception. So instead he merely said, "Seems real enough to me."

Hill rolled his eyes. "Looks like a beggar, too. I don't think she's even showered in months." He crinkled his flattened nose in distaste.

"That's because I haven't," Lora said. "I'm looking forward to reacquainting myself with the experience."

The banker shuddered, backing up a step away from the other Muun. "Fine. Fine. Now that you and your other half have been reunited, Grievous, you can take your new friend with you on the way out." He made a shooing gesture towards the three of them.

Ronderu casually pointed her blaster at the banker. "Actually, you'll be coming with us as well."

"What?" Hill said. "What conceivable reason would I have to accompany you to Kalee?"

"Because you don't have any other choice," Ronderu said. "I insist."

Grievous looked over to Ronderu, puzzled. "If you want him along, I won't object, but what advantage would that give us?" It wasn't as if the banker could fight.

Ronderu sighed. "Leverage, Qymaen. This one hoards considerable wealth and power. If we ensure his fate is tied to ours, he will use that wealth and power to help us succeed. Otherwise, he may be less-motivated to agree to our requests."

"Ah," Grievous said. "Yes, that is true." It was not something he would have done on his own. His personal obligations towards Hill, while certainly not on the order of a life debt, prevented him from directly defying the banker quite so brazenly. But Ronderu had no such obligations, and by both their thinking, was in fact owed recompense from Hill. And if she wasn't going to kill or severely wound him, there was no need for Grievous to attempt to stop her. In fact, there was no reason he couldn't assist her in having the debt she was owed repayed.

"Are you taking me hostage?" Hill asked, outrage now apparent in his tone. "This is extortion! This is very illegal."

Ronderu laughed. "Yes, yes it is. Illegal is in my job description, after all."

The banker looked imploringly at Grievous. "Please, think of all I've done to help you!"

Grievous stared at him. "Define help. Perhaps it includes getting me out of situations you originally allowed me to be put in? Forcing me to do grueling, soulless work for you to pay off my planet's crushing debt?"

Grievous, who was enjoying this turn of events, continued on. "Of course I will eventually release you. But not right away. After all, if you can take a few years to get around to resolving your contractual obligations, then certainly it would only be fair of me to take my time as well."

Hill laughed nervously. "Alright, perhaps 'help' is too strong a term. Still, would taking me as a hostage not be bad for your reputation, Chancellor? Surely you don't want to be involved in this."

Grievous looked down at Hill. "You're right. I don't want to be involved in this. Which is why we won't be leaving with you."

San smiled. "Well, I'm glad we could come to an agree-"

"We'll be leaving with Fal Nim, who we hired as an additional-" he thought back to the word San had used for Lora, "-mystic."

San gave him a wide-eyed look of horrified comprehension. "No. No."

Grievous, who was enjoying the banker's obvious dismay, then said, "No reason to be worried. We will release you, in time. After all, you did finally correct that little issue with my contract. But-you did also take a few years to do that. Perhaps we will take our time as well!"

Ronderu laughed. "Okay, troublemaker. Time to go."

San frowned. "No, I refuse to-"

Ronderu nudged the blaster into his chest. "You refuse to what?"

San looked at the ground, his expression sullen. "Nothing."

"Good. Qymaen, we will need him to wear some more colorful costume," she said. "What do you think-?"

"My wardrobe," Hill said tonelessly. "I have some terribly garish items in there that I never wear. If you will allow me, I will find something suitably-hideous."

Lora frowned. "General Grievous, how large is the ship you came here on?"

"The Invisible Hand is 1 km in length," Grievous recited from memory. "Why do you ask?"

"So I'll know how much space I can put between me and this loathsome man."

Aboard the Invisible Hand

Summary

A/N: So I finished up the newest chapter!

Thanks to Celgress and DragonBowl (ffnet) and IvoryInkwell, Anonymous or Something, May-chan and Myabers013 (ao3) for your recent comments!

I had fun researching skyhooks for the last chapter. In the Darth Plagueis novel, the skyhook described sounds more like a space elevator as a turbolift going down to the surface is mentioned. Skyhooks actually work a bit differently in that they reduce the energy required to break out of orbit to only requiring a suborbital spacecraft while also not requiring the skyhook structure to touch the surface of the planet as a space elevator does. So I changed the description of the skyhook descent in my story to reflect that.

Also, I'm really looking forward to having Ronderu as an important character in my story. I felt that one of the best ways to focus more on the Kaleesh was to feature as many canon Kaleesh characters as possible. But besides Grievous, Ronderu, and Bentalais, I don't know of any other canon Kaleesh characters from around the Clone Wars time period (there's the one in the Plagueis novel from like 40 years before the Clone Wars time period, but, uh, yeah...). And certainly there aren't any others as central to Grievous' life. Anyway, I have a lot of plans for Ronderu.

Bentalais is also going to be fun-I've been thinking about what I want to do with him. And of course my OC is one of his children, so it will be interesting to explore that dynamic as well.

I'm just really going to have fun with these characters and with some of these really intriguing alien species we have in the Star Wars universe.

Ronderu had observed as Qymaen assigned a number of droids to both San and Lora-they would not be able to order the droids to do just anything, but they could ask them to help them with simple tasks or to fight off any preprogrammed targets, such as the clones or the Jedi. Grievous had made sure that Ronderu would not be included in the droids' database of foes and Lora had been given new clothing and assigned a room. The Muun woman had disappeared for a bit while Qymaen showed Ronderu a map of the ship, and had returned freshly showered and wearing the new grey robes she had been given.

Now the Kaleesh watched as Lora walked carefully around the new area, her cane stretching out in front of her.

Ronderu had offered to help Lora get settled on the ship, mostly to avoid any involvement in the task in which Qymaen was now engaged. Later, she'd get her own briefing on how to use the ship, or, more specifically, its weapons and hyperdrive, but Qymaen was currently trying to find out where Hill had gone off to. Ronderu thought it a good idea that he attend to that rather than her, as she had become increasingly fed up with the troublesome creature.

The Muun banker had to be the most uncooperative hostage she had ever dealt with. She had thought it bad enough when some of her quarry became too terrified to comply with commands. Hill hadn't had that problem. But what he did was much worse in her estimation. Every time he opened his mouth to speak, it seemed it was either to complain or cajole. She had considered murdering him several times. She really had to ask Qymaen how he had managed to put up with Hill for so long. And why.

Ronderu turned her attention back to the Muun woman in front of her. "So, you have powers like the Jedi, but you are not a Jedi yourself," Ronderu said.

"Yes," Lora responded as she examined her new lodgings. She triggered the sink faucet in the small kitchen, and water rushed onto her hand. Apparently satisfied, she deactivated it. Then she walked over to the food reheater and began prodding at that device. "I am Force-sensitive, but I do not have Jedi training."

"That's good," Ronderu said. "Qymaen and I have not had good experiences with the Jedi."

"Well, I don't envy their ascetic attitude, but their training far surpasses mine," Lora said. "I wish I had access to the information they do on Force-training."

She began walking back towards the living room.

Ronderu considered this statement as she followed the Muun to the other room. "I heard Cad Bane once stole a holocron from the Secure Archives. Most of the Jedi training holocrons are not nearly as secured as that. It would probably be trivial to-"

Lora frowned. "It seems wrong to steal from a library."

Ronderu crossed her arms. "You want to fight against the Jedi, but you balk at the idea of petty theft?"

Lora sighed, her cane reaching the sofa. After a few prods, she settled down onto it and felt around until she reached the HoloNet display. "I don't want to fight anyone at all. More to the point, I can't."

"Then what do you plan to do here?"

"Hopefully help to end this galactic war as soon as possible, with as few casualties as possible."

"As long as Kalee wins the war against the Huk, I could care less what happens to the rest of the galaxy."

"That's understandable, I suppose. But if the rest of the galaxy is still at war, I can't imagine that Kalee would remain untouched by that. The fate of your planet is not separate from the machinations of the larger galactic governments."

Ronderu sighed. "True enough. Republic interference is what doomed our planet to its current plight in the first place. If they had not come, Qymaen would have won the war. Still, as long as Kalee is left alone, whatever else happens in the galaxy is not my concern."

"I suppose I might not be so concerned about the bigger picture, either, if I didn't have to see these dramatic visions of galactic destruction."

Ronderu frowned. "What happens in these visions?"

Lora's expression become somber. "Nothing specific-I'm working on that. But there are frightened voices speaking a thousand different languages, ear-piercing explosions and screams-so many screams. Then silence. Then death so all-encompassing it extends from the Core to the Outer Rim. So much death. Not just from the war itself, although that is surely staggering, but from what comes after."

"You can feel death?"

"Yes," Lora said.

"What is that like?"

"I don't think I could describe it to anyone who hasn't felt it themselves. But all Force-sensitives can sense death, just as we can sense life."

Ronderu considered that. Another question occurred to her. "How did you lose your sight?"

"Lose it?" Lora asked, smiling now. "I never had it to begin with. I was born like this. A recessive gene, I was told."

"Recessive gene? What's that?"

"You don't know?" Lora asked.

"No."

"Well, a gene is a trait you inherit from your parents. If it's recessive, then your parents have one gene for it that is not expressed-"

"Ah, never mind. This sounds like one of those 'science' things."

"Am I boring you?"

"No. It's just not a good use of my time. I don't need to know all this stuff about why things happen. What's important is that they do."

Lora gave her a small smile. "All right. I suppose you prefer to focus on answering the more immediate questions."

"Exactly. Anyway, if I did need any science, I can always find one of those science people to do it for me."

Lora chuckled. "True. I actually have a bit of an interest in the subject myself. Unfortunately it's been difficult for me to do any experiments without a lab or proper equipment."

"What sort of science do you have an interest in?" Ronderu asked.

"Well, since I have the ability to use the Force, I've had an interest in studying that. Especially the topic of Force visions, so that I might understand how to better make use of that ability, but perhaps other things as well."

Ronderu considered this. "I suppose that could be useful-especially if we could learn more about how to fight against the Jedi and the Sith. I'll make sure you get your lab." She was sure Qymaen could find some unused room in the ship to set one up in. After that, it would be a simple matter to order the necessary supplies.

"Really? That's most kind of you."

"Think nothing of it," Ronderu said. "Qymaen and I have a lot of enemies. We could use all the help we can get."

Grievous found Hill at the entrance to Dooku's suite, ordering his droids about. He was still dressed in the clothing he had donned before they left Munnilinst-a strange-looking white outfit covered with multi-colored triangles, though the matching floppy, broad-rimmed hat they had had him wear to hide his face was nowhere to be seen.

"Yes, I want all of his clothing burned," Hill said to one of the B1 droids clustered around him. "Check the pockets for valuables first. And you, I need every strand of his hair vacuumed out of the carpets and sofas-I'm allergic to human hair. And I need a deodorizer for-"

"What are you doing?" Grievous asked.

"Cleaning out Dooku's suite," Hill said, as if stating the obvious. "It's going to be such a hassle to be rid of the smell of that terrible cologne of his. Seriously, I can't imagine why humans try to smell so awful."

"And why are you doing this?"

Hill gave Grievous a puzzled look. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Please-explain."

"Well," Hill said slowly, "When you're going to live in a place, it's standard practice to get rid of all the previous occupant's-"

"Wait, you're going to be staying in Dooku's suite?" Grievous asked incredulously. The General had avoided the place ever since Dooku had died. He had been taught from his earliest years that some part of the spirits of the dead lingered in their private dwellings. Still, he thought he could guess why the Muun man was willing to live in Dooku's previous dwelling. As he understood, Hill did not believe in souls, which Grievous supposed made sense as he did not think the banker had one.

"Where else on this vessel would I stay? None of the other rooms are even remotely acceptable accommodations for any self-respecting Muun-"

"Lora said that the standard room I gave her was perfectly fine," Grievous said.

Hill rolled his eyes. "I said self-respecting. Anyway, why shouldn't I have this room? Are you using it?"

"Of course not!" Grievous said. Even if he had wanted to see Dooku's spirit, perhaps to taunt him, he disliked being near the place.

"Then a perfectly good room is going to waste," Hill said. "Anyway, if I have to stay on this glorified death trap of yours, I should at least get the chance to erase Dooku's presence here and take what remains of his possessions for myself."

Grievous considered the Muun's words. "You disliked him."

Hill looked up at Grievous. "General, I plotted his death for years. I despised him."

"Because he forced you to break a contract."

Hill narrowed his eyes. "We've discussed this already."

"It just seems like you had something more personal against him." Grievous had mostly taken Hill at his word when he had first explained his reasons for having the chips in Grievous' mind removed. But while he couldn't quite put his finger on it, something had seemed off, seemed missing, about the explanation to him from the moment he'd heard it. It was just a feeling, but he had found that usually his feelings about such things were right. It was second nature for Grievous to attempt to understand the motivations of both his enemies and allies-it was the tactician in him. And he thought it especially important to understand those things that motivated one such as Hill to be an enemy in one context, and an ally in another.

The Muun frowned. "He was bad for business. That's all." He glanced over at a droid. "I want this place spotless by 9."

"Roger, roger. Task completion scheduled for 0900 hours."

"Argh, no, not in military time!" Hill groaned. He had the droid change the task schedule, then looked up at Grievous. "Anyway, I suppose it's good that you dropped by. There's something we need to discuss."

"I didn't 'drop by' for your convenience. I was making sure that you weren't trying to cause trouble."

"Yes, I know," Hill said. "But I believe this whole half-baked plan to kidnap me was about my money? And you see, I will not be able to give you that unless we work out one small little detail first."

Grievous narrowed his eyes. "What small detail?"

"I need unrestricted HoloNet access."

"Denied," Grievous said. He jabbed a sharp claw at the Muun. "You need access to your bank accounts. Hostages do not get unrestricted access of any sort."

San smiled. "Well, no, they usually don't. But if you want unrestricted access to my assets, then you will need to give me unrestricted access to the HoloNet."

"Explain," Grievous said.

"Gladly, General," San said. "You see, most of the money I've used for the Separatist cause is actually the IBC's money, which I am authorized to dispense in various ways as the Chairman. What remains besides that is tied up in various stocks, mostly IBC stock, and thus its value depends greatly on the continued smooth functioning of the bank, which might be upset by, oh, say, having its Chairman as your hostage."

"What about-"

"I'm not finished. Additionally, all of my power stems from the fact that I am the current Chairman of the IBC. Even my position in the Separatist Senate is based on my IBC position. I am not a government official-the Munnilinst government will pay you nothing for my continued safety. Anyway, I'm sure you are aware that it would hardly look good if the Separatist Chancellor was found to be holding one of his own Senators hostage!"

"Fine, but-"

"-and the IBC will simply choose a new Chairman if they discover these plans to hold onto me indefinitely. Even if you tried to ransom me off to them, you would either have to settle for a rather small sum, or none at all. After all, there are plenty of ambitious types in my company who would be more than happy to fill that position, negating the need for my return."

Grievous growled. He hated all this corporate nonsense. He did, however, follow what the banker was saying. "Then you need HoloNet access so you can continue to do your job and so no one suspects there is anything wrong."

San nodded, smiling brightly. "Yes, General. I can attend all meetings remotely for the duration of my stay here. So that is not an issue. But if you want money from me, you need to give me unrestricted HoloNet access."

"And what's to stop you from tipping someone off about your situation then?"

"What an interesting question," San said, his expression growing increasingly smug. "I really couldn't say. But then, this wasn't my idea in the first place."

Grievous growled, lowering his visor close to the Muun's face. "If you're going to be that way, then maybe we just won't bother with the money at all. Maybe we'll just keep you here indefinitely, no HoloNet access or anything else. Perhaps you'd prefer to stay in the cell block?"

The banker sighed. "Or you could take me back to Munnilinst now. Regardless of our mutual loathing, General, I really do require your assistance with killing Sidious. And we are on the same side in this war. So I'd rather not get you into any trouble. I can forget this little temper tantrum of yours if you release me immediately. Perhaps punishing me will gain you some amusement, but that will be short-lived when you no longer have any credits at your disposal. So let me go. All of these strong-arm tactics are so unnecessary."

Grievous glared at Hill, his rage slowly boiling. I could kill him right where he stands. He hated when the banker did this. When he tried to turn everything around so that it worked in his favor. So that he got what he wanted, at everyone else's expense. It wasn't going to happen this time.

"No," Grievous said. "You aren't leaving this ship." It was true that Hill needed him to get rid of Sidious, and he did think the banker would continue to help with that regardless. But it was also true that Hill did not consider Kalee a priority. And the banker certainly didn't think he owed Ronderu what she was due from him. So he couldn't be allowed to leave. But he needed to be given HoloNet access, and yet also deterred from using that HoloNet access in a way that might cause Grievous or Ronderu any problems. Grievous realized what he needed to do.

He retrieved a datapad from one of the nearby droids and typed a few short paragraphs onto it. Then he handed the device to Hill.

The banker sighed again. "All right. You win. I sign this, you give me my unrestricted HoloNet access, and I won't say anything about my current-situation. But first-" He typed something on the datapad and turned it to face Grievous.

The cyborg read what the banker had wrote and gave him a disbelieving look. "You added in a clause just for Dooku's suite?"

"I want this room," Hill said.

"Fine." Grievous rolled his eyes. It didn't really matter to him.

Hill signed the document, and Grievous placed his signature below the Muun's.

"Well, now that that's settled," Hill said, "I'm going to get some food. By which I mean the supplies I took with me, and not the usual appalling cardboard that you military types label as such."

Grievous watched as the Muun left, taking three of the droids with him. The General didn't linger in the area long. Now he had another reason to avoid Dooku's suite.

Battle of Kalee

Notes

A/N: Time for another chapter!

Thanks to theascetic and May-chan (ao3) and Celgress and ShadowBlah2 (ffnet) for your reviews of the previous chapter. I always like to know what my readers think of my stories. As the writer, I'm always going to view it from a rather different perspective, so it really helps to know what other people think of the story. I'm glad people seem to be enjoying the interactions between the characters.

I really enjoyed showing the new crew of the Invisible Hand getting settled in last chapter. Fun times!

This chapter ramps up the action a bit from the last chapter, but I'm just getting started. The bigger action scenes are yet to come. Also, this chapter has both a Sidious POV scene and a Grievous POV scene. I'm probably going to be alternating between the protagonists and antagonists quite a bit in this story. I like to show what everyone's up to.

Anyway, I'll be interested to know what you think!

Sidious was walking down the hallway when he encountered Master Yoda. Smiling politely, he began walking back toward his private apartment. He had important matters to attend to. Important nano-sized matters.

"Chancellor, news we must discuss, there is."

Sidious stopped and sighed. Must we? At any other time, he might have been quite interested in what Yoda had to say. The ancient Jedi never spoke to him merely to make idle conversation, and his tone indicated that the news was of great importance. But the Sith Lord's mind was on what he considered a significantly more urgent matter that had already been put off far too long. After all, while he was quite confident that Ventress would obey his command not to activate the nanites, he felt that, in this case, a higher level of assurance was necessary.

"Apologies, Master Yoda, but I'm afraid the latest Senate meeting has left me quite exhausted. Perhaps we could reconvene in another-three hours? I might be more attentive after a meal and a short afternoon's nap."

"Urgent, this news is," Yoda said. "Apologize for the inconvenience, I do. Follow me now to the Jedi Council chamber, you must."

Sidious frowned. "If you insist. But you might need to rouse me if I nod off." He followed Yoda to the meeting place of the Jedi. It was not a place that non-Jedi were typically allowed.

"This is most irregular, Master Yoda," Sidious murmured. "We could speak of these matters in my office. It is closer."

"Hmmm," Yoda said. He didn't elaborate.

When they arrived at the Council chamber, Yoda used the Force to close the door behind Sidious. They were the only ones in the room. Sidious briefly considered attacking the Jedi Master now, but almost immediately dismissed the idea. Any fight between him and Yoda would be a close one, and the deceptively diminutive Jedi would likely have ample time to inform the others of the Sith Lord's identity. Anyway, he couldn't help but be curious about what the ancient Jedi thought was so important.

"Information about General Grievous we have, but highly confidential it is."

Sidious raised an eyebrow. He looked around the empty Council chamber. "What is it?"

"The report to the Senate on Dooku's death-missing an important detail, it was."

"Really?" Now Sidious was interested. He had had a lot of questions about Dooku's death, and had wanted to interview Obi-Wan about the matter personally, except the Jedi had left again before Sidious had had any chance to speak with him. So instead he had continued to wonder how it was that both Grievous and Obi-Wan had claimed to have killed Dooku. And how they had seemingly both independently come to publicly claim that Obi-Wan had done the deed. That had been quite the mystery to him.

"Killed Dooku, Grievous did," Yoda said.

"I thought the credit for that accomplishment went to Master Obi-Wan," Sidious said.

"A necessary misdirection, that was, as is our meeting here," Yoda said. "Known to the Sith, the truth cannot be."

Funny you should say that. He feigned a concerned expression. "You think the Sith have compromised my office?"

"Know, I do not. But take any chances with this information, I will not."

How inconveniently paranoid you've become, Master Yoda. If Coruscant glowed with the presence of the Jedi, their council chamber practically oozed with presence of the Light Side. It was like standing suspended in syrup. Sidious did his best to ignore the uncomfortable sensation.

"All right. Why would Grievous kill Dooku?"

"Controlling Grievous, he was," Yoda said. "Through cybernetic implants. Found this out, Grievous did. Allied with Obi-Wan temporarily to kill Dooku, Grievous did."

"So, the cyborg General was being controlled all this time?" Sidious asked. "And now you hope we might negotiate with him to end the war?"

Yoda nodded.

"Who removed these implants?" Sidious asked, eager to know who he should make pay for this turn of events. "I surmise it would not have been possible for Grievous to have removed them himself."Rather, I know it would not have been possible.

"Correct, you are. Help, he must have had. But know who they are, we do not," Yoda said. "Sent Obi-Wan to find more information on Grievous, we have. Perhaps also determine the identity of this person, he will."

"It's unfortunate that we still don't know who they are," Sidious said, disappointed.

Yoda nodded solemnly. "Indeed. A great reward, such a heroic deed merits."

Or rather, a horrific punishment, Sidious thought. I'm really going to have to think up something more creative than the usual forms of torture for this one.

"I agree. And I thank you for keeping me updated on these important events. I will prepare a transmission to let Grievous know that the Republic may be willing to grant him a full pardon. To be sent confidentially, of course."

"Thank you, I do, Chancellor."

"There is no need to thank me, Master Yoda," Sidious said, smiling benevolently. "I am merely doing my duty to end this war as swiftly as possible." And to end all the Jedi along with it.

Grievous dropped his ships out of hyperspace to the sight of a satisfyingly underpowered Republic fleet. Unlike most of the engagements he'd had with the Republic of late, this one was against a considerably smaller force. And given where Kalee was located, the Republic wouldn't be able to send reinforcements immediately. A few Huk battlecruisers also surrounded Kalee, but given their relatively insignificant size and number, it seemed that they expected the Republic to fight their battles for them. It was clear that neither group was prepared for a concentrated Separatist attack. The Republic admiral still had the gall to send him a communication warning him to retreat. Grievous laughed at the weak attempt at bravado. It was time to run the Huk and the Republic off from Kalee once and for all.

"Execute Karabbac Nest maneuver. Open fire on the Republic and Huk fleets," Grievous said, sitting back in his command chair. "And release ten squadrons of Vultures and tri-fighters each." The droids responded immediately. They moved the Munificent-class frigates and Providence-class dreadnaughts into position. Then a hail of lasers shot toward the Republic Venator and Victory-class Star Destroyers, and he saw a number of droid fighters appear in the viewport.

The sides of several of the enemy ships exploded. Grievous lidded his eyes and watched contentedly as his enemies were decimated by the combination of unrelenting lasers and droid fighters.

"Is this all you have to do?" Ronderu asked. "Just tell these machines to attack?"

"Usually it is not quite that simple," Grievous said. "But they are woefully unprepared for us. This will be a short battle."

"An entire fleet of ships and droids, at your command. How did you manage to get the position you have in the Separatist force, Qymaen?" Ronderu asked. "And-what kept you from returning to Kalee with this fleet before now?"

Grievous sighed. "It's a long story, and I confess I don't really know why they wanted me to command the Separatist fleet so badly. I never expressed an interest in the position. As for why I was away for so long, well, that was because there were chips implanted in my mind when they made me a cyborg. Chips meant to control my mind."

Ronderu growled. "Who did this?"

"Count Dooku."

Ronderu tilted her head. "I heard he died recently."

Grievous lidded his eyes. "Yes, although few are aware that I was the one who killed him."

"You mean it wasn't Obi-Wan? The Jedi?"

"He did provide some-minor assistance. But no, he did not strike the killing blow."

"Then, you took revenge on Dooku for what he did to you. But-how did you get out from his control?"

Grievous sighed again. "Mr. Hill. He had the control chips removed. Apparently he had been aware of Dooku's tampering from the start, and had finally mustered up the courage to actually do something about it. Hence why I have asked you not to kill him-and why I have not killed him myself."

"Oh," Ronderu said. "I had wondered about that. He is extremely irritating and troublesome."

"Yes," Grievous said. "He is."

"But I understand now why you let him live."

"I do sometimes wonder how far he can be trusted, but I am indebted to him for his assistance." He sighed.

"But he was also the one who originally took you from Kalee."

"Yes." Grievous said. "He was."

The droids brought him to a thin, pale creature who was complaining about the heat and humidity to one of their guards. Upon noticing him, the alien stopped speaking mid-sentence and tilted their elongated head in apparent curiosity. "Is this the-General Grievous?"

"Yes," a droid intoned.

A wide smile appeared on the alien's face. "Excellent! You've caused me quite a bit of property damage, General! Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"Yes," Grievous snarled. "I wish I could have caused more. Republic scum."

"Oooh, you speak Basic! Convenient." The creature clasped their hands together at their waist. "You misunderstand my presence here, however. I do not work for the government."

"What do you want?"

"To offer you a trade. My name is San Hill," the alien said, gesturing to themself. "And I am the Chairman of the InterGalactic Banking Clan. I understand you have a bit of a money problem."

"I understand that you are the source of that problem," Grievous growled.

Hill frowned. "Oh, no, you are mistaken. As I said, I am not an agent of the Republic. I am simply here to collect on the debts your planet has incurred due to the Republic's unfortunate embargo here."

"That still makes you part of the problem," Grievous growled.

"Yes, but I recognize that trying to extract credits from your planet is like trying to squeeze water from a stone. I cannot take what you do not have. It's a waste of my resources and efforts. But the Republic doesn't care about that-they just want to punish Kalee."

"What's your point?"

"There's another option," Hill said. "You work for me for-a time, and I will pay off all your planet's debt from this embargo."

Grievous looked at the droids who held him firmly and at the other droids who stood around them. There were perhaps thirty of them, plus a few bulky green-scaled guards who surrounded the fragile-looking alien. Grievous was alone, and without any weapons. The droids had caught him while he was sleeping. This alien was a coward who hid behind those who were stronger than them.

"And if I refuse?"

Hill shrugged. "I hand you over to the Republic. I hear you've got quite the reward attached to your capture. Though I'd rather not do that. Still, it's up to you."

"Qymaen!" Ronderu said, standing over him. "Qymaen, what's wrong?"

"Sorry, I-had a memory flashback," Grievous said, shaking his head as if to clear it.

"A memory flashback?"

"Yes. When it happens it's as if I'm stuck in my own head. I don't notice what's going on around me."

"How long has this been happening?" Ronderu asked.

"Ever since the control chips were removed," Grievous said. "My mind may never work normally again because of the damage they did."

Ronderu growled. "If Dooku were still alive, I'd kill him myself."

"Has the Republic surrendered yet?" Grievous asked.

Ronderu shook her masked head.

Grievous surveyed the results of the battle. The Huk battleships were now nowhere to be seen and most of the Republic ships had been destroyed, their wreckage floating harmlessly in orbit. Some were spiraling towards Kalee's moon. The remainder had been forced away from Kalee, though they continued to fight.

"Perhaps I should suggest the possibility," Grievous said. He turned to the droids manning the battlestations. "Hail the Republic vessels."

The droids followed his instructions and opened a communication channel.

"You have ten minutes to surrender what remains of your fleet, Republic forces," Grievous said. "What do you say, Admiral?"

The line was silent for a full three minutes. Then, a holo of a Republic officer appeared, but not the one the cyborg was expecting- Grievous could see he was a captain from his rank insigna.

Grievous narrowed his eyes. "You're not the fleet admiral."

The human gave him a dour look. "No, I'm not. Admiral Dreevan is currently indisposed, and, I am inclined to believe, dead. That makes me the commanding officer of this fleet."

"And who are you?"

"I am Captain Tarkin," the Republic officer said. "And I will give this answer to your ultimatum-we will not surrender."

"Then I will destroy every last one of you," Grievous said, his eyes narrowing.

Tarkin gave him a small smile. "You will try."