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.