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Chapter Text

Now that the Republic and the Jedi were now aware of his existence, Grievous returned to Vassek III. His fortress was nearing the end of its construction, however, there was one crucial part that required his direct involvement to help complete it.

As the shuttle dropped him off, he walked to the entrance with just a slight hitch in his step. He wasn’t in any pain. His fight with the Jedi had been laughably easy, rather it was his collection that was slowing him down.

Before Grievous began his campaign, he had a sort of magnetic “belt” around his waist. The belt had six magnetic holsters, allowing him to carry six lightsabers wherever he went. However, he collected seven on Hypori and already had two on him. Six lightsabers hung from his waist, each hand held another, and he grasped the last one with his foot.

Grievous made his way to the doorway of his fortress. One stone on the door acted as a button to open the door. He could remotely open it, or push it to open the door. Of course, Grievous had no problem pushing the heavy stone.

As he made his way across the hangar. He noticed a few BX-Series Commando Droids ordering other droids during construction. They were the cheaper alternatives to the B1s he drafted. While they still came with a price tag, the Commando Droids were nowhere near the cost of his MagnaGuards. All they needed was a few more trial runs, then they would receive the full green light.

As he exited the hangar, IG-100-A, B, C, and D greeted him. He and his MagnaGuards traversed further into his fortress. Eventually, he arrived at the main command room at the very back of the fortress’ catacombs.

The main command room was where the security system monitored the entire fortress; it also served as his communication hub with most of the Confederate military, strongholds, and holdouts. But it also housed his medical station where his doctor presided.

Despite Grievous giving credit that A4-D was unique for a droid, his doctor was still irritating to deal with. There was always some jab or complaint that Grievous had to hear. What made it worse was that A4-D seemed to enjoy goading Grievous.

The only thing that kept Grievous from separating his doctor’s head from the rest of his body was that A4-D was the only droid programmed to operate on Grievous. A4-D knew this and loved waving that around whenever Grievous was at his limit.

However, A4-D was right. His duranium plating covered the complicated network of mechanical mechanisms, as well as his sensitive gut-sack. Therefore, keeping Grievous in top shape would have been impossible without his doctor. So, Grievous had learned to at least tolerate his doctor. In return, his doctor reigned in the irritable comments, which always helped when Grievous came back worse for wear.

After coming back from the fight Dooku had staged, A4-D had completely pulled out the mechanisms for Grievous’ arms and reinstalled new ones. His doctor had the idea of anchoring the mechanisms to multiple anchor points instead of one. That way, Grievous wouldn’t totally his arms function when damaged. They also had the effect of increasing his arm’s strength. His recent victory on Hypori was a testament to that.

Since A4-D was part of the EV Droid Series, his doctor could also store and organize information, battle plans, the status of fleets, and incoming messages from other Confederate personnel for Grievous.

Grievous came to the table in the center of the room and placed his seven new blades on it. This garnered the attention of his doctor.

“Ooh! Seven new blades,” A4-D gawked with a giddiness unartistic of the normally bitter-sounding voice of the doctor, “your collection is growing substantially. Although I do not think I can add any more magnetic holsters around your waist without reconfiguring your hips. So you will just have to make do with six.”

“Four of them are dead, three escaped. It was necessary for the Jedi to announce my existence to the galaxy.”

“Well, at least their lightsabers will get comfy in their new display cases. However, at this rate, I may have to make your trophy room larger.”

Grievous then pressed a button on the table that displayed a hologram of the galaxy. His eyes went straight to the planet he would soon go to.

“I believe this will take some time. Inform the fleet at Christophsis that I will not be coming to assist them,” he paused, trying to think of someone competent enough to take his place, “see if Admiral Trench is free. I’m sure he and the Invincible can hold the line in my absence.”

“Of course, master.”

Grievous’ assessment of Trench had some merit. Admiral Trench was bar none, the best defensive leader in the Confederate Navy. He was also no slouch with leading Confederate armies, and like Grievous, Trench had no qualms about being as brutal as possible.

Trench’s flagship, the Invincible, was a Providence-Class Dreadnought and had only just taken off from her docks. At over two thousand meters long, she was more than double the length of a Providence-Class Destroyer, and with her increased size came more firepower.

Grievous had also been notified that the Confederacy would soon add a new starfighter and ship to their ranks. The Hyena-Class Droid Bomber had performed well on planets like Falleen, and the Recusant-Class Support Destroyers were nearing the end of their test runs. Grievous would have both sent to Christophsis.

Trench could hold the line until Grievous could return to the fight. He was sure of it. As he left the room, the four MagnaGuards that were with him, as well as the other four, followed him. They all boarded the shuttle that he came to Vassek III on and left. The shuttle then landed in the hangar of a Munificent, which jumped to hyperspace, heading for the planet of Guitecia.

The reason he was traveling to Guitecia was simple. He needed a guard dog for his fortress.

As the Munificent jumped out of hyperspace over Guitecia, an odd feeling came over Grievous. It felt as if he was forgetting something that he should have remembered. Something was off about this planet, but Grievous’ mind simply could not figure out why as a sharp pain struck his head. But his head soon cleared and his headache subsided.

For now.

While Guitecia wasn’t a hotbed for crime, it certainly didn’t shy away from it. Form galactic pyramid schemes to arms dealers. But Guitecia’s biggest profit came from the trade of exotic beasts.

As his shuttle touched down, a man completely clad in crimson armor met with him. The man gave Grievous no name to work with, the contact only referring to himself as the Crimson Corsair.

“General Grievous, welcome to Guitecia.” The Corsair’s voice was thick and layered behind the voice modulator in his helmet. The Corsair then turned to lead the way. Grievous followed him.

Grievous kept his cloak draped around his metal frame. It was almost out of an impulse Grievous couldn’t describe. He was a proud warrior, who bathed in his enemies gazing upon his form, but for whatever reason, right now he almost wished he were invisible to the galaxy. His hands, which were normally clasped together behind his back, hovered just over his sabers.

The design of the Corsair’s helmet also intrigued Grievous. Although there were many differences between it and the parts that covered his head, there was a striking resemblance in the faceplate. The “eyes” of the mask had a remarkable resemblance in shape to his mask’s “eyes.” Each eye also had a long black vertical etching that ran up most of the faceplate, also like his.

Once again, Grievous could not quell an involuntary reaction as his heart rate elevated, and the air filled his lungs with an icy burn. Thankfully, the Corsair talked before the sensations brought on by this place drove him mad.

“You said in your message that you were looking for a beast to guard your fortress. I know just the selection to show you.” The Corsair showed Grievous a menagerie of different beasts, however, none of them seemed to be what Grievous was looking for. That was until the Corsair showed Grievous the next beast.

The Corsair led him in front of a dimly lit cage. Even with his improved vision, he could only make out a faint silhouette. The Corsair gave a command, presumably one that meant “come here” as the silhouette came forward.

The beast was heavily built, armored, and reptilian. It stood at four meters tall, was eleven meters long, and was made of pure muscle. It reared up on its legs, displaying its hands, each with five clawed digits. As its head looked down at Grievous, he could see two large horns like that of a bull. The beast’s tail swept to the side, ending in three spines, curved like a pitchfork.

“This is a Roggwart,” the Corsair said. “They are indigenous the planet. It will also please you to know that a subterranean fortress, like your own, would be the perfect habitat for it to call home.”

Grievous gazed up at the Roggwart. The Roggwart returned with its gaze. As they sized each other up, Grievous saw a glint in its eyes. It was perfect.

“I’ll take it.”

Grievous and his eight MagnaGuards waited in the hangar of his fortress for the Roggwart to be delivered. As Supreme Commander of the Droid Army, the words “budget” or “cost” didn’t really exist in his vocabulary. He knew the Separatist Council would write this off as just another military expenditure and Grievous would not have to worry about it.

The transport craft landed, and a few workers came out to pull the cage that contained the Roggwart. After it was safely on the ground, the crew would pack up and leave as the cage would not go further into his fortress. This left the job of getting the Roggwart further inside to Grievous. As he watched, his body froze up as he locked eyes with one worker.

She was taller than the other workers but shorter than him by about a head. She wore a traditional leather garb, which was a mix of browns. Her skin was red, marred by scars. Her hair was thick and black, fizzling down her shoulders and back.

Grievous could see her mouth moving in small, slow movements. Even with his hearing, he could only make out one word.

Gor.

They were only staring at each for a few seconds, but it felt like several lifetimes. Eventually, the worker looked away, muttering something to herself.

“Zipporah, let’s go,” One of the other workers called from somewhere in the transport craft. She turned and left quickly, not giving Grievous another look. As he watched the transport craft depart, his head filled with a harsh buzzing. The last thing he could remember was one of his MagnaGuards breaking his fall.

Oh, Gor, I pray to thee,

May the spirits of the ancestors watch over me.

May the moon and stars guide you when my spirit fails,

Oh, Gor, I pray to thee.

Grievous could not have been out long as. The first thing that he registered was the strain in his lungs, then he realized that his chest plates had been removed, and third was that A4-D had injected something into him to slow his heart rate. The fourth thing he registered was that his doctor was especially loud right about now.

“What were you thinking? You should have left when you started experiencing these symptoms. Your heart and lungs can’t be functioning at such a high rate for that length of time. If you were experiencing this for any longer, you could have-” Grievous shot his arm out, his hand clasping around A4-D’s neck as he pulled his doctor in close.

“I am the Supreme Commander of the Droid Army! I do not need to be chastised by the likes of you! Therefore, I believe I reserve the right to discipline any insubordination under my command as I see fit!”

His doctor was silent for a moment before gingerly attempting to remove Grievous’ hand.

“And I believe that as your doctor, I have a say in your actions if your health is at risk.”

They were like that for a few moments before Grievous grumbled as he let his doctor continue his work, thanking the silence that finally came with it. After A4-D was done, he left the medical station to find his MagnaGuards waiting for him.

He said nothing as he walked past them. His guards followed Grievous back to the hangar, where they lined up on either side of the cage. The cage opened slowly before it violently swung open. The Roggwart came out roaring and snarling at them.

His MagnaGuards ignited their staves, but Grievous put a hand up to stop them as the Roggwart focused on him. He had read while awaiting his pet and had learned that Roggwarts were semi-sentient, meaning his pet at the very least recognized him.

His pet cocked his head and made a low rumbling noise as it slowly approached Grievous. Grievous reached out and put his hand on the Roggwart’s snout, which was replied by another low rumble.

From there, it was relatively easy to get it to its designated area of his fortress. It walked around, sniffing and rubbing against the walls of his new home. It then turned and looked at Grievous one last time before disappearing into the darkness.

As Grievous walked away, he began thinking of a name for his pet, and he soon had his answer.

Gor.

He couldn’t say what the word meant or where it came from, but it sounded fitting for a pet that would defend his fortress.

Time passed by, and Gor had settled in nicely. Grievous would stop by now and then, and Gor would instinctively come and lie on the ground. He couldn’t describe the feeling he felt, but being with Gor felt… good… in its own way.

Gor seemed to also not mind his MagnaGuards either, willing to let them touch, feed, and bathe him. It was A4-D that set him over the edge. Upon first seeing his doctor, Gor put as much distance between himself and the droid.

Unfortunately, duty called, and he had to refocus his thoughts on the war.

“Master, I have received word that the Republic has broken through the blockade over Christophsis.”

Grievous mumbled under his breath. Admiral Trench had been doing well enough that he didn’t think he needed to take over. Unfortunately, General Skywalker proved that idea wrong. Thankfully, Trench had never heard of the concept that a captain was supposed to go down with his ship.

“Where is Trench now?”

“He is currently going through extensive surgeries. It is unlikely he will serve again soon.”

Trench had gotten arrogant, great; now he had to come back with his number two out of commission. Grievous gave a heavy sigh. This could give the Republic an opening the Confederacy could not afford. He reached over and pushed a button that pulled up the map of the galaxy.

There had to be a choke point that he could squeeze through to open a new front. He could not let the Republic get confident with this victory. He needed to make sure they remembered that even with Trench temporarily out of the picture, they still had him to deal with.

After some time, he found it. While the Hutt Cartels were neutral in this war, they still controlled a vast swath of the Eastern reaches of the galaxy. One of the hyperspace routes that ran through their territory also passed through a small bubble of space controlled by the Confederacy. It just so happened that the part of space the Confederacy controlled lay on Kamino’s doorstep.

He could move his fleet undetected through Hutt Space, make a quick stop in Confederate-controlled space, take over the Republic’s outpost on Rishi’s moon, then move unopposed on one of the Republic’s most important planets.

But before he could set up his plan, he needed to call Dooku. While Grievous was the sword of the Confederacy, Dooku was the pen.

“General,” the hologram of Dooku came through, “it is good that you have called me. We have much to discuss in the wake of Trench’s defeat.”

Grievous did not miss that Dooku was blaming him for Trench’s loss at Christophsis, but he stood firm, knowing that Dooku did not want him to challenge that claim.

“That we do, I believe I have found a new front in the war,” he said as he pulled up the map of the galaxy, “Kamino has a warning system at the Rishi Moon Outpost, as it is the Republic’s main way of getting new clones from Kamino to the front lines. When we decide to attack Kamino, it would be imperative that we make sure that the Republic only finds out too late.”

Grievous briefly paused, so Dooku could soak in the information before continuing. “We currently control a pocket of space on the doorstep of the Rishi Moon Outpost. However, there are many Republic ships near the moon in case of a Confederate attack.”

“I suppose you know how to fix that problem.”

“That I do, the hyperspace route that connects our planets to the outpost also connects to a long hyperspace route controlled by the Hutts,” Grievous highlighted the route for Dooku to see, “I could pass unobstructed through their space, covertly take control of the Rishi Moon Outpost, then turn around and catch Kamino unprepared.”

Grievous then looked at Dooku, “However, I would need the approval from the Hutts before entering their space.”

Dooku was a man of focus, not emotion. Still, Grievous just made out the inklings of a smirk.

“I will see what I can do,” Dooku said before the transmission ended.

In a far-away corner of a galaxy, on an isolated planet, there was a ship.

She had been restored to her former glory at a great cost. But there she stood as a monument of hope. But something was missing, something that could not be replaced. She was missing her rightful captain.

He was a captain who was ruthless yet caring, headstrong yet understanding, loving yet pained.

His Czerka Arms Outland Rifle and his two Kaleesh Lig Swords were all that remained of him. They were kept in pristine condition. They would be cleaned every day at dawn and dusk. But that was all that was left of him. Not even his kakmusme was salvaged.

They were the two who survived. They were the last of their captain’s crew. His second and third in command. And as day gave way to evening and then night, they held each other as one repeated one sentence as a mantra.

“I thought it was him, but there was no soul behind those eyes.”

Ahsoka had mixed feelings about training. She showed up when her Master expected, reviewed anything she did wrong, noted what she did right, and took time when she was alone to practice what her Master had taught her.

Anakin Skywalker was her Master.

Saying that was still a jarring thing to hear. He was everything she wanted in a Master and then some.

Of course, their first meeting on Christophsis wasn’t the best. The fact that he even agreed to be her Master was a miracle.

But that was just it, he agreed. He didn’t get to choose her. If anything, he was backed into a corner and forced to accept. That had been the crux of his irritation with her in the beginning. Even now, he pressed her during training, pushing her limits farther and farther.

The young Togruta realized that most of that was to be expected, but that didn’t help her conscience.

Today’s training would be their usual schedule: basic warmups followed by practice duals, some blaster-fire redirection with the clones, then a meditation session.

Because Ahsoka was still a new Padawan, much of her skill with her lightsaber came from the first form. She had experimented with different grips for her green lightsaber and found she was rather interested in a reverse grip.

Her Master always kept it simple for her, but he would throw in an occasional curveball or two to keep her brain wired, teaching her the most basic principles of the second and third forms. However, this time during their practice duels, Ahsoka couldn’t shake the feeling that her Master was going easy on her, and for the life of her, she couldn’t understand why.

During the blaster redirection, it was clear he had told the clones to go light on her. Eventually, her Master ended it early.

Oh boy, what did she do this time? She had been trying her best to stay on top of training. She felt like she was giving it her all. The new forms of lightsaber combat she was being taught were challenging, yes, but they weren’t too advanced for her. She was also keeping her momentum when redirecting laser bolts.

What wasn’t she doing right?

She wasn’t a failure-

“Hey Snips, what’s wrong?”

Ahsoka’s mind snapped back to reality. She was so caught up in her mind that she didn’t even realize that she and her Master were now preparing for their meditation.

“Wh-Nothing,” wow, super confident their Ahsoka, “nothing’s wrong.”

Her Master sighed, but it wasn’t a disapproving one. It felt more like it was a sigh of concern. He motioned for her to sit down.

“Come on Snips, you’ve been working yourself to the bone. I know I can be hard on you, but you’ve been like this for a while now, more so than even I would consider healthy.”

Ahsoka finally forced herself to sit down, sighing, “I just want to make you proud of me, Master.”

“Ahsoka,” he started, “you’ve been my Padawan for only a short while, and you have already shown me you will no doubt become a great Jedi,” he reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, “but that takes time, you need to slow down.”

While he had stopped talking, she could still hear the silent part that came after.

He was asking her to tell him.

“It’s just that… I was thinking… If things were different, would you still have chosen me?”

She had to force the last part of her confession out of her throat, then quickly looked anywhere but at her Master. Her hand reached up and fidgeted with silka beads in lieu of a Padawan’s braid, as she had no hair. Ahsoka didn’t see it, but her Master’s eyes slightly widened at her question. She also focused too hard on bracing herself for his answer that she didn’t see his smirk.

“You know, I once asked Obi-Wan that same question.”

Ahsoka looked up at her Master in shock. “But you and Obi-Wan are so close. Surely, he enjoyed being your Master.”

Her Master let out a small chuckle. “Would you believe he hated it most of the time? It was like every time I disobeyed him, he’d stop what he was doing and write a speech on ‘how I need to follow his orders.’”

At that, Ahsoka couldn’t resist giving in to a little giggle. “I guess you were right about how I would never make it as his Padawan.” There they were, laughing over what was originally intended to be a serious discussion. As the laughter died, her Master continued.

“He wasn’t even my original Master, if you can believe it,” Ahsoka looked at him, his voice was now in a more serious tone, “I was inducted into the Order at a much older age than most, But Master Qui-Gon insisted upon it. And since Obi-Wan was nearly a Knight himself, Qui-Gon could have been training me soon after.”

There was a pause, not noticeable to most, but since Ahsoka was giving her full attention, she registered the microscopic clench in his throat.

“He and Obi-Wan were retaking the Palace on Naboo during the blockade when a Sith showed up. Although Obi-Wan defeated him, Master Qui-Gon lost his life. His dying wish was for Obi-Wan would train me as his Padawan.”

Ahsoka was silent. She desperately wanted to say something, anything, but she did not know what to say. They sat there in silence for a good minute before he spoke again.

“I think the reason I was so frustrated with you at first was that I saw too much of myself. Always rushing headlong into trouble without a second thought, helping without thinking if you were doing would cause more harm than good,” he looked over at her, “actions that would get you a good scolding from Obi-Wan.”

That right there was the one thing Ahsoka did not expect her Master to be. A brother. No matter the mood, he always knew a way to cheer her up.

“I guess so,” she sighed, “but that still begs the question.”

Her Master closed his eyes in thought as he leaned back, “I believe that if the Force willed it, I would have always chosen you. Even if I didn’t expect your impulsivity at first, I believe you would have still stood out to me.”

“Thank you, Master,” she looked over at the clock. Their talk had eaten up all their allotted time for meditation. “Well, since we’re done with our meditation for today, what now?”

Her Master stood up and moved to the door. She was soon trailing behind him.

“I’m going to introduce you to a friend of mine.”

If there was anything Ahsoka could say about most of the buildings on Coruscant, it would be, ‘um, could you please make the buildings bigger?’ She had only ever seen the Senate building from a distance, and even then, it was still massive compared to the buildings surrounding it. Now that she was walking into it, its walls encompassed her entire field of view.

“How is this place so dang big? More importantly, how would anyone find where they needed to go?”

Her Master looked over at her, “Well, the Republic represents more than twenty-four thousand systems, so they kind of need the space. And for your other question, they just memorize where everything is. It’s not that different from living in the Temple.”

“I guess so,” Ahsoka conceded, “but we have the force. We can sense where everything is.”

“Then you would have no trouble finding your way then, would you?”

Ahsoka wanted to argue, but couldn’t. These people were senators, not Jedi. Senators did not have the luxury of having the Force tell them where to go, what to do, or what to say. They had to do it all by memory. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to come in every day. Remember the quickest routes to where she needed to go. And on top of all of that, sitting through hours of boring meetings over bills that wouldn’t get passed.

As their journey continued walking through the seemingly endless hall, they passed by a group of snooty-looking people, probably senators. Ugh, if they could afford to pay for all that get-up, then they could afford some basic humility and not dress so flamboyantly.

“So, who’s this friend of yours? Hopefully not a senator.”

“Actually, she is.” Before she could respond, they stopped at a door. As they entered, Ahsoka noticed how empty the room felt, and that everything looked so… modest.

“Oh, hello Anakin,” the senator greeted from her desk. “I’m surprised you came this early.”

“Padmé, this is Ahsoka Tano, my Padawan. Ahsoka, this is my friend, Senator Padmé Amidala.”

As Ahsoka reached out to shake the senator’s hand, she was struck by Padmé’s beauty. It wasn’t over the top or showy. In fact most of the senator’s look was rather muted and subtle.

“It’s so good to finally meet you Ahsoka,” the Senator retracted her hand as she shot a glance at her Master, “Anakin has told me so much about you. Nothing but praise, I assure you.”

“It’s good to meet you too, my Master has only told me about you today,” nice Ahsoka, you could have also asked her how the weather was, “how’s your… Senate meetings.” Mercifully, Padmé did not catch the pause, or at the very least didn’t acknowledge it.

“Oh, just as well as I could expect,” the senator said with a sigh, “tea?”

The three of them sat as the tea was heated and poured.

“So, what did you and Ahsoka do today, Anakin?”

“Just the usual basics, but since Ahsoka is such a hard worker, I decided we would swing by and have you two finally meet.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” she turned to Ahsoka, “I can’t imagine how hard it must be fighting in a war at only fourteen.”

“Eh, me and Skyguy make it work.”

As they sat and drank, Ahsoka noticed just how nice Padmé was. But she knew eventually she would find something unpleasant about her, just like all senators.

“I remember when I was fourteen, I was Queen of Naboo.”

Ahsoka was stunned, “You’re the Queen of Naboo?”

Padmé chuckled, her hand covering a small blush, “Was queen, but after the invasion ten years ago that was thankfully repelled, my eyes opened up to how poorly the Republic had been treating people across the galaxy, and four years later I became a senator. But I am just a staunch proponent of peace as I was back then.”

“Some would say too staunch,” Anakin added.

“Har Har.”

“Wait, you want to make peace with the Separatists? But they left the Republic. Shouldn’t you have left with them?”

“I believe it’s more complex than picking a side. Many people who have joined the Separatists believe the Republic has failed them, and as I stated before, I am inclined to believe them. So, when the Separatist Council claimed they could fix all their problems, they left with them because they were the only ones that were offering solutions to their problems.”

Padmé spoke to Ahsoka as if she had to explain this belief many times before, but it wasn’t said in a way that talked down to her. She filled her argument with the confidence of someone who truly believed what they preached, but she also left room for a counterargument to be put forth.

“But Count Dooku leads the Separatist Council!” Ahsoka looked over at her Master for support but found that he was preoccupied with watching this debate.

“I believe he had a hand in swaying many people’s minds. A Jedi leaving and publicly denouncing the Order is rather damning,” Padmé countered, defusing most of the anger in Ahsoka’s blood, “but I also admit that the members of the Separatist Council are also villains. They are manipulating people so they can turn a profit, but should that be proof that none of the Separatist’s grievances are justified?”

Ahsoka sat there, stunned. She wanted to poke a hole in Padmé’s argument, but she couldn’t. It was rock solid and there was nothing she could say to change that.

“I-I guess you’re right…”

Just then, her Master’s com beeped.

“Looks like we’re needed back at the Temple. You go ahead Snips, I won’t be long.”

Soon after Ahsoka left the room, Padmé turned to Anakin. “Skyguy?”

“It was her idea, but it’s growing on me.”

“I still can’t believe they let you teach,” Padmé sighed

“Neither can I. How was she?”

“She was a little more open to her distrust than I would have liked, but I think she’ll come around eventually. I know my brand of peace isn’t for everyone.”

“Well, I guess that means I got good taste,” Anakin placed a kiss on his wife’s forehead, “you still up for dinner.”

“Actually, we are going to have to reschedule,” Padmé sighed, “With General Grievous running wild out there, I’ve been getting more paperwork than usual.”

“No problem,” Anakin said as he left to catch up with Ahsoka.

As they made their way out of the Senate building, his Padawan turned to him.

“I think I understand now.”

“Understand what?”

“You wanted to show me that not everyone has the same viewpoint as us, but that doesn’t mean they are not on our side.”

Anakin was surprised by his Padawan’s thinking, “You’re right, but I just wanted to give you a break for the day. Besides, the Temple was a little ‘stuffy.’”

“You’ll find any reason to avoid work,” Ahsoka giggled as they walked to the shuttle that would take them back to the Temple.

As they made their way into the Temple, they could both tell that something was going on. Everyone was moving with purpose.

“What’s going on?” his Padawan asked.

“I don’t know,” Anakin responded as they were approached by Obi-Wan.

“Obi-Wan, what’s going on?”

“We’ve picked up General Grievous’ location. He is currently traveling through Hutt-controlled space. The Council has decided that a force of three fleets will intercept him.”

“That won’t be enough. We need to send in more. There’s no way a force that small can take him on.”

“Our source claimed that Grievous was traveling light, so this is our best chance. I don’t like this any more than you do, but the Council won’t allow us to waste resources on Grievous until we know more about him.”

Anakin would have continued to argue with him, but with Ahsoka there, he needed to set an example.

“Do we know who is leading the fleets?”

“Master Saesee will lead the battle in space while Master Unduli will command the ground troops. Unfortunately, they will have to go dark as they will enter Hutt-controlled space soon.”

“Why is that?” Ahsoka asked.

“The Hutt Cartels control that part of the galaxy,” Obi-Wan clarified, “and they have been infamous for staying out of conflicts surrounding them unless they can profit off it. We don’t know how Grievous of all people got permission to fly in their space, but facing him at Nadiem needs to be kept secret from the Hutts.”

As the three of them continued talking, Anakin hoped today wasn’t a bust for his Padawan. Ahsoka had shown how insecure she was about her apprenticeship, but he hoped that his talk earlier today would stifle that thought.

Now they had to worry about the ever-increasing reality General Grievous brought into the war. Eventually, the Jedi would have to encounter the Jedi killer regularly. Anakin was both thrilled and terrified at the prospect. Thrilled because he could get a chance to fight the droid, and terrified that Ahsoka would do the same.

NB-227 marched lockstep with the other battle droids.

CLANK. CLANK. CLANK.

The General gave them orders to follow while he was controlling the battle up in space.

CLANK. CLANK. CLANK.

NB-227 marched lockstep with the other battle droids.

CLANK. CLANK. CLANK.

The Republic forces were trapped in the ravine.

CLANK. CLANK. CLANK.

NB-227 marched lockstep with the other battle droids.

CLANK. CLANK. CLANK.

The Republic was bombarded with fire from the army’s AATs, Hailfire Droids, and various Spider Droids.

CLANK. CLANK. CLANK.

NB-227 marched lockstep with the other battle droids.

CLANK. CLANK. CLANK.

The Republic forces lay where they were shot as the dust cleared.

CLANK. CLANK. CLANK.

NB-227 stopped.

“Are we sure they’re dead? This could be a Republic ‘trick.’”

“Command back on the Fortressa said to keep movement at full speed,” NB-228 answered.

NB-227 marched with the other battle droids.

CLANK. CLANK. CLANK.

This was not how Grievous thought this battle would go, not by a longshot.

First, he was told by Dooku that while the Hutts would allow Grievous to pass through Hutt-controlled space; they were against having him travel with such a large fleet. Grievous grumbled but conceded. He kept the Core with him while the rest of his fleet was stationed to meet up with him in Confederate Space at the end of his journey.

He had jumped out of hyperspace near the planet Nadiem to readjust his fleet’s trajectory when he was informed of a Republic fleet over Nadiem. Never one to let the Republic rest, he decided he could take a scenic route.

The front of the Republic's fleet consisted of three Carracks and four Dreadnoughts. At the back end of the fleet was an Acclamator, which Grievous presumed had emptyed its ground equipment down on the planet before coming back up to rejoin with its fleet.

But those were not the only ships in the fleet, Grievous counted four Charger-C70s. The C70 was a retrofit of the Consular-Class Cruiser, which gave Republic convoys more of a bite. They also served as effective screening ships when the blockade at Christophsis was broken, if the reports were to be believed.

But Grievous was drawn to the three largest ships in the fleet.

Venator-Class Star Destroyers.

They were the Republic’s answer to the Confederate Providence and Lucrehulk and first debuted at the Battle of Christophsis. At over eleven hundred meters long, the Venator’s role in the Republic’s Navy was to carry vast amounts of starfighters.

But the Venator’s main selling point was also its biggest weak point. It was a carrier, not a battleship. The eight main guns it had for starship combat on its sides were meant for broadside exchanges and not full-frontal assaults.

For comparison, a single Munificent was only two-thirds the size; yet it was decked out in guns, allowing it to fire in any direction.

With the Fortressa and his six Munificents, the Republic would not stand a chance.

“Prepare the Fortressa’s Vulture Droids for combat. Once their Venators are alone, start sending in the ground forces for an invasion of the planet,” he ordered a B1.

The battle began and went on longer than expected. Even with the Fortressa’s size and carrying capacity, The Republic was holding the line. The Venators and their ability to send out new starfighters evened out his number advantage.

The Republic also wasn’t just sending out V-19s anymore. They were now deploying BTL-B Y-Wing Starfighters alongside the V-19s as the Republic’s bombers.

Still, there was something the Republic starfighters had that he didn’t need to worry about.

Pilots.

Vulture Droids had a computer brain and could make turns and maneuvers impossible for the clone pilots to pull off. They also did not need to rely on the pilot’s skill to succeed in battle; as the Republic’s V-19s started to show that flaw.

Soon enough, the Republic had lost its Carracks and three of its C70s. One Dreadnought was down and the other three were close to death as well. The Venators and Acclamator were the only ships in relatively good condition. His Hardcells and Diamonds were escorting the C-9979s down to the planet’s surface.

But things could only go so well for so long.

“General, we’re picking up incoming Republic ships.”

What?

Two Republic fleets, identical to the one he was fighting, jumped out of hyperspace, one to his left and the other to his right.

Grievous was about to win against one fleet, but only after slogging it out for a while. Now he had to do the same stunt for two more. Then he realized it. This was a trap.

What was worse, he received a transmission from the planet’s surface. From what the frantic voices of the droids on the planet’s surface had told him, the Republic forces had made their way behind his front lines by “faking” their deaths. Now they were surrounding his forces.

Grievous’ hand smashed down into the display, “Tell the Munificents to form a defensive wall around the Fortressa,” he ordered furiously as he stormed out.

If he couldn’t find a way out of this, he would have to call for a retreat. If he did, this would mark his first defeat in the war, and Grievous wasn’t about to let that happen.

Grievous went down to the Fortressa’s hanger and made his way to Soulless One, his personal starfighter.

She was a Belbullab-22 Starfighter, meaning she was surprisingly fast for her bulk. But he had done work on her. One such thing he did was replace her class-six hyperdrive with a class-two, meaning she could travel from one side of the galaxy to the other through hyperspace in under eleven days.

“This is Gray Leader, taking off from the Fortressa,” he said as he flew out of the hangar and made a sharp right, “I want all Vulture Droids in the right wall to deploy and form up behind me,” he commanded.

As he passed by the Munificents, the Vulture Droids came out and swarmed around him.

As they approached the Republic fleet, he gave a new command, “Fire at the Venators’ hangers when they deploy fighters. It could cause a chain reaction and take the entire ship down.”

The swarm of Vulture Droids raced ahead of him, flying past the Republic’s ships, and making a beeline for the Venators. They opened fire on the hangers, hitting starfighters taking off, starfighters awaiting deployment, and anything unlucky to be out in the open. Grievous watched as all three of the Venators buckled from the attack as they went down. Grievous could see that this panicked the Republic fleet as the Munificents advanced.

Grievous made a sharp turn as he made his way to the first Republic fleet. Again, he called for an attack on the hangers, and again they went down. He then made his way over to the fleet on the left. The ships from the other two fleets had joined up in a defensive position to protect the last three Venators.

He connected the Fortressa, “Tell the Munificents to encircle the Republic fleet. They can’t defend all angles of attack.”

As soon as Grievous ended the transmission, an arrow-shaped ship zoomed overhead.

It was a Delta-7B.

A Jedi Starfighter.

Grievous all but forgot his main objective as he pursued the Jedi. As they twisted and turned through the battle, an underlying thought kept him going. Turn into every attack, never run. Run and you will die.

The Jedi’s ship was nimble, but his reflexes made up for it as they kept turning into each other’s fire, barely missing each other every single time. But Delta-7Bs had no shielding and little to no armor, even a grazing hit could compromise it. If he could just-

Soulless One violently rocked as he looked out to his left thruster and saw smoke and fire erupting from it. Grievous must have been hit with a lucky shot from the Jedi. He looked up and saw he was dangerously close to the Republic’s Venators. Frantically, he reached for his com.

“This is Gray Leader. I want all fighters on me! I repeat, all fighters on me!” He turned Soulless One around and retreated to the safety of the fleet.

Before the Republic had time to grab him with a tractor beam and pull him in, he was surrounded by hundreds of Vulture Droids, which covered his tracts in the swarm. Soulless One made a rough landing in the Fortressa’s hanger. As a crew of droids came out to control the fire on his fighter, he marched his way to the bridge. He was soon greeted by a B1.

“General, The Republic is in retreat, shall we pursue?”

On any other given day, he would, but due to how close this battle had been, he needed to focus on the here and now.

“No, we need to flush out the Republic’s forces on the planet.”

After the fleet had reorganized into a defensive position, Grievous could now focus on supporting his ground troops. After some resistance, the Republic forces on the planet either escaped or were killed off.

Grievous took a shuttle to the only surviving fortification that was taken by his first wave of droids. By some miraculous chance, the droids there had fortified their position enough to hold off the Republic’s attacks.

“Who’s in charge here?”

A B1 made his way to him, “I am Sir, NB-227 I-” the droid stopped his jabbering as Grievous pulled him close.

“You’re being promoted. From now on, if you can’t confirm if the target is dead, shoot their corpse again to make sure of it,” Grievous growled as he pushed the droid back.

After taking stock of what forces he had lost, Grievous made his way back to the Fortressa. The Republic had battered his Core fleet. He only had three Munificents, two Diamonds, and the Fortressa to show for his victory.

Grievous left his fleet as a garrison in case of another Republic attack, while he and the Fortressa continued his original path. Soon enough, he was at his destination of Molavar, where the rest of his fleet was waiting for him.

But before he could go ahead with his plan of taking the Rishi Moon Outpost, a transmission from Dooku interrupted him.

“General, while I know you are eager for your invasion of Kamino, I have a need for you elsewhere.”

The Coruscant night was always a spectacle. The countless lights of buildings, signs, and traffic illuminated the city, giving it a whole new personality when the sun retreated from the moon.

This was one of Anakin’s favorite things to do with his wife. Just sitting on the couch watching the traffic fly by with the soft ambiance of the world outside. Time almost ceased to exist when they embraced as the world moved along outside.

It was moments like this where he could forget about everything, forget about being sold into slavery, forget about failing to save his mother, forget all his stringent duties to the Order. He could just be a loving husband to his wife, and that was enough for him.

Padmé stirred from her nap as Anakin looked down at her. Her bleary eyes locked with his as she smiled at him.

“What would you be,” she paused as she yawned, “if you weren’t a Jedi?”

It was a question Anakin had from time to time, but never one he would ponder long enough to answer. He knew that the Force willed him to be a Jedi, but he knew where Padmé’s question came from. She knew of his dissatisfaction with his peers and superiors with decision-making.

In short, he didn’t think the system worked.

“I guess I would be a mechanic and probably open a shop. It seems like it would be a natural fit. Perhaps I could even start repairing people’s droids as a side gig.”

“Wouldn’t you want a job where you were close to me?” Padmé asked. She didn’t sound disappointed, rather intrigued by why he didn’t immediately pick a job that still allowed him to see his wife so frequently.

Anakin chuckled, “Well when you put it that way, I could be your personal valet and get you to where you needed to be. Or I could be a servant of yours. At least then I could use that as an excuse to be in your office all day.”

Padmé gave a small chuckle as she shifted into a more comfortable position.

“What about you? What would you do if you weren’t a senator?”

“I would probably start a nonprofit organization to help those less fortunate than us.”

“You really can’t see yourself not helping people,” Anakin snickered.

“I guess not.”

“What if… What if neither of us were where we are now?”

Padmé lifted her head to look at him for a moment, then she let her head fall back down. “I guess we would have our own little home in the Naboo countryside. You would work in your shop, and I would stay home and raise the kids.”

Anakin thought about that. As a Jedi, his relationship with Padmé was already crossing the line in the sand. But if he were to have kids, that would have him excommunicated from the Order immediately. Not that he was opposed to the idea of having kids, but he was already trying to keep his marriage a secret. Having children would make that task nigh impossible.

“Well, now that you mention it, Ahsoka is my Padawan. So, she’s basically like my-”

“She doesn’t count Anakin.”

“What, don’t tell me you haven’t thought about having her play big sister while we are out for an anniversary dinner,” and before Padmé could retort he continued, “and don’t deny you two have been getting along, I’ve heard you two share stories about me when you think I’m out of earshot.”

Padmé looked like she was trying to form a rebuttal, but her voice caught in her throat when Anakin’s hand reached under her shoulder.

“No,” Padmé squealed as she tried to get away, but Anakin hooked her in, tickling her more, “Anakin, please! Ok! Ok! Ok! I admit it, I have thought of it!”

Anakin stopped his bombardment of love as Padmé caught her breath. As the silence filled the room, they both realized that they were ignoring what they had heard earlier that day.

Grievous had defeated the Republic again. By some stroke of luck, the General defeated the Republic despite being outnumbered.

“I heard on the news refer to him as a ‘Knightslayer.’ Did any of the Jedi-”

Anakin comforted his wife. “They all made it out alive.”

“I can’t imagine what it’s like to be out there, hoping he doesn’t come out of nowhere.”

“It’s not a thought I relish,” Anakin said as Padmé shuddered with a sigh.

“You okay?”

“I’m just stressed, is all. The Senate is considering ramping up the production of clones on Kamino, and the Hutts are asking why a Republic fleet was so deep in their territory. It’s just… all too much sometimes.”

Anakin sat there with his wife. He was a Jedi. He was the Chosen One, the one who was said would bring balance to the Force, but he was powerless at this moment. All Anakin could do was hold his wife as she quietly cried into his side.

Chapter Text

One thing Grievous had grown to hate, even more than the brainless battle droids around him, was that Dooku could pull him out of the war for any reason. This time, of course, was right as he was about to finish this war.

He had his fleet ready to go. He would silently take control of the Rishi Moon Outpost and then be at Kamino’s doorstep before the Republic had any idea what was going on. Then, in one decisive battle, he would have the Republic at its knees. Isn’t that what Dooku wanted from him? To end the war?

But no, have it your way, Dooku.

Grievous wondered what could be so urgent for his presence that he had to leave his post as Soulless One traveled through hyperspace. He had done some work on her since his near death at Nadiem.

He had installed a powerful deflector shield generator just behind the cockpit. She was also now covered with an Impervium hull rather than the typical hull for starfighters. Some would say it was overkill to use the material that starships were covered in for a starfighter, but Grievous needed insurance.

Before he left his fleet, he had begrudgingly given temporary command of it to that B1 that he promoted, NB-227.

Although Grievous would never say it, Commander NB-227 was probably the least braindead B1 out of all of them. But even so, Grievous’ audio receptors still strained when NB-227’s nasally voice said just about anything.

Soon enough, Soulless One jumped out of hyperspace into the Phu System. As he looked ahead of him, he saw a massive ship. She encompassed his entire field of view. If he had to make a guess, she had to be at least four kilometers long, twice the length of a Providence-Class Dreadnought.

As Grievous flew along her side, he noticed that towards the front end of the ship, there was a large bulge in the ship. He also noticed that there was a ring of purple on the side of the bulge.

As he landed in her hanger, he knew exactly where his master expected him to go: the bridge. Dooku surely must be waiting for him. As Grievous made his way out of the hangar, the sheer emptiness of the ship surprised him. There was an extensive rail jet network inside the massive ship. Grievous figured that it was to get anywhere in the starship in a short and reasonable amount of time.

After some time of traversing her hallways, he arrived at the bridge at the top of the command tower. A light bathed the room in red, and in the raised center of the bridge stood the blue hologram of Count Dooku.

Oh, so it was important for Grievous to be here in person, but not Dooku?

“General, I would like to welcome you aboard the Malevolence. You have certainly taken your time getting here.” Grievous didn’t miss how there was a subtle growl to Dooku’s voice at the end.

“The preparations for the invasion of Kamino could not wait, and I would like an explanation on why I am not currently going through with it,” Grievous replied in a dangerous tone.

“You will get to go through with your invasion in due time,” Dooku said, not hiding his disdain for Grievous’ remark, “but for now, I would like to award you for your victories against the Republic with your new personal flagship.”

Grievous was taken aback. Currently, the Fortressa acted as his flagship, and she fulfilled that role nicely as he barked orders to his fleet during battles. But even he would admit that she was not a fitting flagship for the Supreme Commander of the Droid Army.

“I am sure you saw the rings on the sides of the ship as you approached. They are giant ion cannons that produce a large wave of energy that can disable entire fleets when fired.”

He could not tell why, but Grievous gave an involuntary shudder at that.

“However, with your new flagship comes a caveat. I would like for you to keep this new weapon of ours a secret. If the Republic were to find out about this prized warship, they would certainly put all their efforts to see it destroyed.” And with that, the hologram of Dooku disappeared.

What?

“Keep this ship a secret?” The Malevolence was at least four Venators long, and on top of being heavily armed, she possessed two giant ion cannons. This meant that he couldn’t add her to his pre-existing fleet either, as the Republic would then see it during his next naval battle. Grievous was on his own; he only had the Malevolence to work with, and he did not know what her limits were.

He could understand Dooku’s reasoning behind keeping him out of the war for the first few months. Grievous knew that playing all of your cards immediately out of the gate was never a worthwhile strategy, though it didn’t change the fact that he hated every second of waiting in the shadows. But Grievous also knew that his delayed entrance into the war had single-handedly turned the Confederacy’s situation around.

Keeping him hidden was one thing, but it was another thing entirely to hide a ship of this size and power.

“Uh, General,” one of the B1s on the bridge alerted, “we have picked up a Republic fleet on our sensors.”

As if the droid had summoned them, a Republic fleet jumped out of hyperspace on the Malevolence’s starboard. That pulled Grievous out of his head. There was no way a Republic fleet just stumbled upon him and the Malevolence, Dooku must have given his coordinates to test Grievous.

He immediately jumped into action, “Jam their communications, ready all turbolasers, and charge up the ion cannon!”

He turned and moved over to where two B1s were operating the ion cannon.

“The targets are nearly in range, Sir.” one of them told him. He looked out of the bridge to gauge the distance of the Republic fleet. They were nowhere close enough to attack the Malevolence, perfect.

A continuously rising tone filled the bridge as the ion cannon charged up. The B1 spoke up again, “The entire Republic fleet is now in range, Sir.”

“Fire.”

The sound that had been gradually building up cut as Grievous felt a slight pulse from beneath him. He watched as a ring of energy blasted itself from the cannon toward the Republic fleet. Grievous felt a wave of satisfaction rush over him as their ships stalled. The crews of the Republic’s ships must certainly be panicking.

With all their systems down, Grievous gave the word to open fire. As the turbolasers of the Malevolence tore the Republic’s fleet apart, he realized something. Escape pods, there were likely those who were lucky enough to reach them.

Grievous turned to a B1, “When the turbolasers have stopped firing, send out search parties. I want all of their escape pods destroyed.”

Nine.

Nine entire fleets.

Missing.

The only commonality the disappearances had was that the fleets would give their last report, and then they would vanish, with only remains left for the Republic to find.

The first fleet was destroyed in the Phu System and was under the command of Master Ares. Because General Grievous stretched the Republic’s forces thin, it was only a small fleet of three Venators.

This was a surprise to both the Republic and the Jedi, but they had to focus on the front lines of the war. As the list of fleets that were destroyed with eerie similarity grew, it became harder to do so. Rumors spread of a new weapon being used by the Separatists against the Republic.

With little in the way of options, Plo Koon and several other Jedi volunteered to search for this “weapon”.

However, if you go looking for trouble, you will always find it.

From the bridge of the Triumphant, Plo Koon watched as the blurry outline of a ship came into focus. Against the red glow of the planet behind it, the ship had a silhouette effect on it.

Even from this distance, he could tell this was no ordinary ship. It would easily dwarf any ship the Republic or Separatists had. If he had to guess, the ship was four times the length of a Venator.

“The enemy’s ship has reduced its speed.” Commander Wolffe stated as he approached the Kel Dor Master. “The fleet is holding its position, Sir.”

“They must have realized we are tracking them,” he hummed. Plo Koon could hear the Force whispering that the Separatists on that ship probably knew of his presence before he got there.

“I think it would be wise to report our position before we push for an attack. We should also send a call for reinforcements, since our enemy knows we are coming, and they have likely dug their heels in.”

“General Skywalker’s fleet is nearby, in the Bith System,” Wolffe responded as he followed him, “and from what I hear, Skywalker is always ready for a challenging fight.”

“So I’ve heard.”

It wasn’t that Plo Koon didn’t have respect for Master Skywalker’s tactics. If anyone could figure out how to stop this Separatist warship, it would be him. He saw Skywalker as someone who needlessly took risks and jeopardized the lives of many clones, but knew Skywalker would never give an order without leading the charge.

As the hologram booted up, he saw young Ahsoka’s smile. It was such a warm and genuine thing. Every time he saw it, it reminded him of why he was a Jedi, to protect the innocent. Even if she was becoming a brave and powerful Jedi herself, he wished that her innocence would stay with her for just a while longer.

“Master Plo, how’s the hunt for the mystery weapon going?”

The Kel Dor turned to Skywalker. “We’ve tracked it to the Abregado System. We need reinforcements.”

As Skywalker was about to answer, the transmission crackled and fuzzed out. As Wolffe tried to reconnect, he could hear Ahsoka’s concerned voice.

“Master Plo? What’s-” He didn’t get to hear the rest as the transmission died out.

Wolffe glanced at him. “There’s too much interference. I’m sorry, Sir, we’ve lost them.”

“Then let’s hope Skywalker can reach us in time,” he sighed as he looked back at the ship they were pursuing, “I believe we’ll need it.”

After some time of trying and failing to reinstate a strong enough connection to reach Skywalker, a clone working on the bridge came up to Plo Koon, “Sir, we’ve done some scannings on the enemy’s ship,” he pushed a button which pulled up a hologram of the ship. “The enemy ship is approximately five kilometers long, but that’s about all we picked up.”

Five kilometers?

While Separatist ships like the Dreadnought or Lucrehulk were massive, this was more impressive than those. Another clone came running up. “Sir! The enemy ship has adjusted its position.”

“Prepare for battle,” he turned to Wolffe. “Tell the hangar to ready the fighters.”

As clones hurriedly moved about the bridge, Plo Koon and Wolffe looked down at the display screen of the enemy ship. He then noticed the large bulge towards the front of the ship. The Kel Dor couldn’t pinpoint why, but a pit formed in his gut.

“We’re picking up a large energy reading from the target, Sir.”

“Open fire!” He was normally not one to get nervous in battle, but they were facing a ship that was responsible for the disappearance of nine fleets. They must have picked up the same energy levels before being gunned down.

“We’re not in range yet, Sir.”

Both he and Wolffe looked up just in time to see a pulse of energy rushing straight toward the fleet.

“Brace for Impact!”

But there was no impact. The wave of energy rushed over the Triumphant and the other two Venators.

“We’re losing all our power,” Wolffe said. “That energy field has left us defenseless!”

The bridge quaked as the enemy ship’s turbolasers tore the fleet apart. Debris from the other Venators was launched from explosions, propelling themselves towards the bridge.

“Quickly, into the pods,” the Jedi ordered his men. “We don’t have much time. Get inside. Hurry!”

Commander Wolffe and two other clones made it to a pod door he opened. He slammed it on his way in, quickly ejecting the pod from the ship as the turbolasers finally finished the Triumphant.

As the light of the explosion died down, Plo Koon pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping Skywalker and Ahsoka would find them before it was too late. As he sighed, giving him and his clones a moment to process what had just happened.

“What the hell was that?” one clone asked.

“It must have been an ion cannon, but I never thought you could make them that big,” Wolffe replied.

“That explains why the ship was so damn big,” the third clone commented.

“While that is true,” Plo Koon stated, “there are pressing matters we need to attend to. The power surge from that ion cannon has rendered this escape pod essentially a floating rock. If we want any hope of surviving, we need to get the power back.”

Commander Wolffe nodded, “Sinker, Boost, see what you two can do.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Time seemed to slow to a crawl, but if he were to guess, they had been in their pod for a little over an hour.

Plo Koon stood near the viewport of the pod, thinking. In times like this, a Jedi shouldn’t waste precious air on pointless arguing. If the Republic were to launch an attack on the Separatists’ new ship, they would have to attack from the rear. He figured the ship had that devastating ion cannon on both sides, and being behind the ship would put the Republic out of the range of turbolasers.

“Do you think we got a chance, General?” Wolffe asked. He was in a bit of a disadvantaged state compared to the rest of them. As a Kel Dor, Plo Koon’s thick leathery skin could protect him from the vacuum of space for a brief period. Sinker and Boost had their clone armor with them, which gave the same protection. But Wolffe was in a standard officer uniform, with no protection.

“I don’t believe in chance, Commander,” he reassured. “I know if we work together, we’ll survive and that someone will find us.”

“With all due respect, General,” Sinker commented, turning to face the Jedi, “strategically it doesn’t make any sense for someone to come look for us. If I was in command, I would be more concerned about tracking that ship.”

Plo Koon was concerned about the lack of hope in the clone’s voice.

“As your General, I value your lives more than finding that ship.”

“Sir, there’s another pod out there!” Boost pointed out the viewport. They all moved to look out into the sea of debris to see the shape of another escape pod float by.

“If we only had power… we could contact them,” Wolffe mumbled.

“We’ll just get their attention when the pod turns around,” Boost said. With a wave of his hand, Plo Koon used the Force to rotate the other pod. As it did so, it revealed the shattered glass of the pod’s viewport.

Sinker gasped, “They’re dead.”

“Hey, look at the way the frame bends away from the pod,” Wolffe pointed out.

As they looked, it was clear that something had crushed the pod from the outside. A Jedi had many senses that were elevated above that of other beings, one of which was one’s sense of intuition.

“We are not alone out here.”

After seeing the fate of the other pod, getting the systems up and running became even more of a priority. Ten minutes of hard work later, they got some of it back online.

“We’ve now got heating and lights,” said Sinker. “As for communications, we can send and receive radio signals. As for audio… we’re still working on it.”

“Right now we are working on being able to receive messages, however, that is probably the extent that we can do,” Boost clarified.

Plo Koon pondered for a moment. “I think we can focus on just sending out a signal. See if you can get into contact with Skywalkers fleet in the Bith System, they will-”

A faint echoing beep filled the vessel.

Wolffe turned to look at the light on the message receiver blinking, “It’s one of our other pods!” He clicked a button, allowing audio to come through. Although barely registerable, everyone was silent enough for them to hear what could get through.

“This… Pod 1977… we are… I repeat… under attack! Is anyone… out there?”

Plo Koon began looking out their viewport. “They must be close by!”

“They’ve locked on to… on to our ship! Our position… Mark 12 at 26! Hunting us… They’re cutting through!”

All that they could hear after that was cracking, followed by a violent sucking noise, then silence.

They then saw the pod they were just in brief contact with drift by. Attached to it was a ship of similar size with four clamps, latching itself onto the pod. There were a few battle droids with jetpacks floating in between the two ships, one pointed in their direction.

“I think they see us,” Boost cursed.

Plo Koon got up from his chair. “It is time to go.”

“Go? Where are we going, Sir,” Wolffe asked.

“Outside to face the enemy, I can withstand the pressure for a brief time,” he looked over to Sinker and Boost, “put your helmets on.”

“If you say so, Sir,” Sinker sighed.

“This is a difficult situation, but there remains a possibility we will survive.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Boost said. “Let’s go.”

Plo Koon turned to Wolffe. “Start up and keep a communication signal alive. It is our only chance for someone to find us.”

The Jedi heard Wolffe mutter something under his breath, but he paid no mind to it. There were bigger battles to fight. As the door to the rest of the pod closed behind him, the decompression chamber did its job and prepared them for space.

As the cool vast expanse surrounded them, the ship clamped itself onto the pod. Plo Koon, Sinker, and Boost came around and attacked. The ship’s clamps squeezed against the pod. If they put any more pressure on the pod, then Wolffe and the signal would be lost.

Using the Force, Plo Koon focused and crushed all the droids in an instant. Then, with his lightsaber, he cut the pod free from the clamps. Once again floating alone amongst the debris, the three of them clung to the pod.

“Wolffe,” the Kel Dor asked, “Wolffe, do you copy?”

There was an uncomfortable amount of silence before a voice crackled through.

“Copy, General,” he could hear Wolffe coughing and wheezing. “Oxygen is at sixty-nine percent and dropping,” Wolffe groaned as he went through another bout of coughs.

“Well General,” Sinker grumbled, “this is a fine mess we’ve gotten into.”

“Your sense of humor is improving.”

“I don’t want to say we told you so, but I never believed anyone would come looking for us.”

Plo Koon couldn’t understand why the clones were so adamant about their situation. Why were these soldiers so convinced that their situation was hopeless? Did they have no faith that the Republic would not come looking for them?

“Why are you so certain no one is coming?”

Boost lowered his head, “We’re just clones, Sir. We’re meant to be expendable.”

So that’s what the problem was? They thought the Republic just viewed them as no more valuable than the cheap battle droids the Separatists were throwing at them.

“Not to me.”

Then, from behind them, a light glimmered off the pod. The Kel Dor turned, shielding his eyes from the light. Its origin was a small freighter. A tow cable shot out and latched itself to the pod and reeled them in.

As the pod settled from the freighter’s internal gravity, he slid off the pod and onto the floor. As he tried to get his bearings, he heard a voice he never thought he would hear again.

“It’s okay, Master Plo,” Ahsoka asked before she looked up, “There’s someone in the pod, Master.”

Skywalker pulled the viewport off with the Force. Wolffe stumbled out, coughing. Sinker and Boost came up to collect him. 

Plo Koon looked up to see that soft smile on her face, “Tell me, were there any other survivors?” He didn’t need to hear an answer to know what their expressions told him. He and his three clones were all that survived, but there was nothing they could do about that now. They needed to get out of here.

After making sure that Wolffe’s condition had stabilized, Plo Koon followed Skywalker and Ahsoka to the cockpit of the freighter.

“We tracked the mystery weapon to this system. That is when we came across a massive Separatist warship. It was well over twice the length of one of our Venators. I correctly believed that I should contact a nearby Republic fleet, which is when I contacted you.”

“You then lost connection with us. The Separatist likely jammed your communications,” Skywalker filled in.

“That would make sense, given how the Separatist wanted to keep this weapon a secret,” Ahsoka added.

“After we lost contact, the Separatist ship fired off a massive blast from an ion cannon. It was so large and fast that it engulfed our entire fleet, completely shutting down all our systems before tearing us apart with turbolasers.”

“I guess that figures why we only find a field of debris when we searched for the missing fleets,” Skywalker sighed as he sat down and punched in coordinates, “then once in your escape pods, the Separatists came looking for-”

A beeping from a radar alerted them. Skywalker looked at it. “It looks like coming back for a second sweep of the area.”

Plo Koon leaped for the power systems. “Quick! Shut everything down before they detect us!”

He, Skywalker, and Ahsoka did so. Soon the massive ship was upon them, filling up the entirety of their view. They all held their breath as the giant ship passed them by. All was quiet, that is until the sound of Skywalker’s Astromech shuttering and whining broke the silence.

By the time they registered that the ship may have a sensitive enough sensory system to pick up on the droid’s activity, it was too late. The ship started to turn and line itself up with the freighter. The three of them scrambled to get everything back online.

“Artoo,” Ahsoka ordered, “program the hyperdrive!”

She was met with beeping.

“Anywhere!” she yelled.

Skywalker punched the engines just as a wave of energy rushed toward them. They began speeding past debris, the wave of energy surely gaining on them. Skywalker wizard passed large chunk after large chunk of debris. After they finally got a clear shot, Skywalker hit the hyperdrive. The light of stars streaked by as the freighter jumped into hyperspace.

They could finally relax, knowing they were now far away from that ship. But they couldn’t rest now, for they would have to report to the council when this was over.

Ten.

This was the tenth fleet.

The tenth.

However, it was more than just that. He had an audience with him that day. After hearing of Grievous being successful at keeping the Malevolence a secret, Dooku wanted to see Grievous take out the next fleet firsthand.

And he just let the Republic escape, right in front of Dooku.

It was all quiet on the bridge. There wasn’t even the usual chatter of the B1s. Grievous did not have the guts to turn to look behind him. This was his first failure in the war. He no longer had a perfect winning streak.

“Your failure is most unfortunate. I will have to discuss this with my Master.”

Dooku left the bridge, and even though there was only one less person on the bridge, it was a thousand times quieter. That void was suddenly filled with panicked screams of battle droids as he tore through them.

He had failed.

He didn’t care if he was wasting battle droids, he could just replace them and-

Grievous stopped.

The Confederacy had all the droids he could want. All he had to do to get more was to give the word. The Republic couldn’t afford such luxuries with their clones.

Clones were superior to battle droids one on one, but that meant the Republic could not keep at the same production level as a droid factory. That, of course, took time and resources. And if a clone ever got injured, the Republic had to tend to its wounds.

He grabbed one of the few B1s he had not destroyed during his rampage. “Bring in replacements for the bridge. Tell them to find all Republic fleets within range, particularly if they are convoys.”

After getting Plo Koon's clones stabilized at the Resolute’s medical station, Anakin took him and Ahsoka to the bridge.

“Well, I hope this meeting goes well,” his Padawan sighed.

“Why is that?” the Kel Dor Master asked.

“The Council gave orders to Ahsoka and me not to leave our post after we lost contact with you, and that ruffled a few of Ahsoka’s feathers,” Anakin explained. As the door to the bridge opened, the center console flickered to life, bringing up the images of some of the Council.

“Master Plo,” Grandmaster Yoda started the meeting, “good to see you, it is.”

“I could say the same,” the Kel Dor responded. “If it weren’t for the actions of Skywalker and his Padawan I would be dead, and the Separatist’s weapon would still be a mystery.”

Anakin didn’t miss the soft sigh that came from Ahsoka. She was very adamant that Plo Koon had survived, to the point of voicing her concerns when they contacted Coruscant previously. He explained to her that while it was okay to disagree with what the council said, she shouldn’t always have to vocalize her opinion then and there. Regardless, he was glad that she was at least vindicated.

“It was a ship,” Plo Koon began. “one that dwarfed any Separatist ship I’ve seen. As my fleet approached, I decided I needed reinforcements. However, they jammed my communications with Skywalker before I could give any more information other than my location.”

“That would explain why the disappearance of fleets seemed so sudden,” Kit Fisto said. “If the Separatists were testing a new weapon, they would probably want to control when we would find out.”

A discussion began as the Council members began proposing different ideas. They eventually came to a consensus with Mace Windu. “With the war essentially a stalemate, sending everything we can to stop it may shift the balance of power back to the Republic.”

“I would advise against that,” Plo Koon countered. “Towards the front of the ship, there is a generator that powers a giant ion cannon. With a singular blast, it disabled my entire fleet, leaving us defenseless when their turbolasers fired. Even in our life pods, we were not safe. They sent boarding ships to look for any escape pods.”

It was then that his Master picked up something in Plo Koon’s story.

“Those tactics seem rather aggressive. Perhaps this is what General Grievous has been up to. It would finally give us an answer to where he has been for the past month.”

Everyone gave a nod of affirmation before Yoda spoke up again.

“Pleased to know of Grievous’ whereabouts, Palpatine will be. Begin pursuing Grievous, you shall.”

Before the holograms of the Council disappeared, Obi-Wan spoke up again.

“Anakin, before you begin, I would like to join up with you,” his Master stated. “If you are going to engage General Grievous, you will need all the help you can get.”

Now that the Republic knew about his flagship, Grievous no longer had to keep the Malevolence hidden. After his failure at the Abregado system, he created a rather effective use for her. He would find a fleet, preferably an escort fleet, jump to their location using hyperspace, and quickly defeat them. Repeat ad infinitum. It was so satisfying to be two steps ahead of the Republic, only giving them brief appearances before he was gone.

He was now on his tenth escort fleet destroyed, and this time he planned on keeping that streak from breaking. But of course, he still had to deal with impossibly incompetent battle droids.

“Boy, this is a lot more fun when they aren’t shooting back,” one B1 said.

“I still can’t seem to hit anything,” said another.

Grievous promptly did the courtesy of removing that droid’s head from its body, making it slump over. He had grown a habit of destroying battle droids that were just too incompetent for his taste. Like natural selection, he weeded out the defects.

As he pulled away the body of the droid so another could take its place, he heard an objection from behind him, “Grievous, your treatment of your battle droids may prove to be an expenditure the Separatist Council will disapprove of. Besides, the Jedi are never harsh with their clones.”

Right, Dooku was still here, not in person, but as a hologram. While he was disappointed with Grievous for not being able to keep the Malevolence a secret, Sidious was quite pleased. The Republic would now have to pour more time and resources into containing the Confederacy’s flagship and allow them to gain ground on other fronts in the war.

“The Jedi take precious care of their clones because one clone can take down hundreds of battle droids before falling. So the Republic needs to spend more time and energy preserving the ones they have, while we can pump millions of battle droids every second. Their care for their troops is a weakness.”

Dooku’s eyes appear to show some approval. “A weakness we shall continue to exploit. I have the coordinates for a secret Republic outpost. It is an unprotected medical station treating over sixty thousand injured clones. You will do them a service and put them out of their misery. With it destroyed, the Jedi will have to send their wounded elsewhere, and you will once again be in my good graces.”

“It will be my pleasure, my lord,” Grievous bowed as Dooku faded out of sight.

Anakin was in the Resolute's hangar, preparing to give a debriefing to the clone pilots who would accompany him on this mission. As R2-D2 showed a projection of the Malevolence, Admiral Yularen began.

“This strike force has been commissioned by the Senate to hunt down General Grievous’ new battleship. As the bulk of our fleets are engaged on the front lines, we’ll be on our own. General Skywalker has prepared our attack strategy.”

“Thank you, Admiral,” Anakin said. “Even though the Separatist’s battleship has made only brief appearances, our intelligence operatives have picked up a few things. For one, we now know that the ship’s name is the Malevolence.”

R2-D2’s projection zoomed in on the Melevolence’s control tower. “They have also revealed that, unlike the Providence, its bridge is not located at the front, but at the top of the ship’s control tower.”

As Anakin continued, he saw Plo Koon and Ahsoka in his peripheral view. “While our capital ships are vulnerable to attack, I believe a squad of bombers can outmaneuver the ship’s ion cannon. If we make a high-speed run along the ship’s length, we increase the chance of avoiding the ion cannon. We’ll concentrate our firepower on the bridge. Any questions?”

“No, Sir,” the clones said in unison.

“This is an important mission. We take out Grievous, we can bring the war to a quicker end. Pilots, prepare your bombers.”

As the clones left for their bombers, Plo Koon approached him. “Skywalker, this is certainly an aggressive plan. Are you sure your squadron can break through Grievous’ defenses?” The Kel Dor asked.

“Shadow Squadron has a perfect record when it comes to completing their missions. We’ll break through.”

“That may be so,” Plo Koon said, “but worry that a few casualties may be enough to prevent you from breaking Grievous’ defenses.”

“Master Plo is right,” his Padawan agreed. “With Grievous on that bridge, it’s got to be well protected.”

Before Anakin could make an argument, Admiral Yularen approached the three Jedi, “Skywalker, I have just received word that the Malevolence has attacked a convoy of medical transports near Ryndellia.”

“The Ryndellia System…” Anakin thought out loud. That was in the same sector as Naboo. More importantly, it was dangerously close to the Kaliida Shoals Medcenter. If Grievous destroyed that facility, it would allow the Separatists to rule unopposed in that region of the galaxy.

“That would mean that his next target will be the Kaliida Shoals Medcenter. Admiral, warn the workers at the station that the Malevolence is coming and to evacuate as many clones as possible.”

“There are many star clusters in that area,” Plo Koon added, “with a ship that large, he will be unable to chart a course that’s less than ten parsecs in order to get around them.”

“Then it looks like we’re going to launch sooner than expected.”

As Yularen left them, Plo Koon turned to Anakin. “I’ll fly along and provide a fighter escort.”

“Any help is welcomed.”

Anakin got into the cockpit of the lead Y-Wing, with Ahsoka and R2-D2 getting into the rear gunner seat and droid slot, respectively. As he led the Shadow Squadron out of the hangar, Anakin heard his Master’s voice call in from one of the stationed Venators. “I hope you know what you are doing, Anakin.”

“Well, if I don’t, I won’t be around to her the ‘I told you so.’”

“That’s reassuring. Well, take your shortcut and I’ll take the long way, but you better be there before I arrive.”

“I’ll be there, Obi-Wan.”

As the squadron flew further away from the fleet, Anakin called to the other fighters, “Shadow Squadron, tighten your formation. Call in.”

As the other squadron members called in, Plo Koon came in with a hyperspace ring attached to his Delta-7B, “Fighter escort standing by.”

With the squadron assembled, they jumped into hyperspace.

Grievous was pacing back and forth on the bridge, the Malevolence had to navigate around a large nebula that was in her way. The problem was that it was taking more time than expected. If she could not get around the nebula and reach the medical station, it may give the Republic enough time to scramble a capable defense.

“Sir,” a B1 called, “the navicomputer indicates that we only have one parsec left to go before we arrive at the medical facility.”

Finally, some good news.

“Sir,” another B1 called, “there is an incoming transmission from Count Dooku.”

“Put him through.”

“General Grievous, I have received intel from Lord Sidious. The Republic has launched a small strike force to intercept the Malevolence. Skywalker is leading the mission. Do not underestimate him.”

Ah, the famed General, Anakin Skywalker. He had heard through tales that he was an expert pilot when put into the seat of a starfighter. But no matter, Grievous would show that the Jedi’s skills were nothing against his ship’s might.

After some time, the Malevolence jumped out of hyperspace. When he looked out the bridge, he saw a few Pelta-Class Support Frigates attempting to escape.

“Sir, a squadron of Republic fighters is approaching.”

“Skywalker. Launch a squadron of Vulture Droids to deal with the Republic fighters, but target those fleeing transports with our ion cannon. They are our prime target. Then we shall attack the medical facility.”

The ion cannon charged up, then fired. The fleet of medical ships veered off course before the turbolasers targeted them. Once they were destroyed, he then looked at the medical station.

“Charge the ion cannon and prepare to fire on the medical station.”

Grievous looked out the bridge at the medical facility, as he was about to see at least sixty thousand clones meet their end. But as he did so, he failed to notice that the laser cannon and flak guns had stopped firing.

“Fire.”

A terrible explosion rocked the ship from one side to the other. The shockwave of the explosion was so strong and sudden that it knocked him off his feet, throwing him to the floor with great force.

General Grievous.

You sit upon a throne that you no longer own.

Your hollow flesh has been replaced by an inferior body.

please wake up, my Sheelal.

Grievous pulled himself up from the floor as the Malevolence slinked away from the medical station.

“Damage report.”

“The reactors to both the ion cannons have experienced a critical meltdown Sir, and the hyperdrive has been compromised,” a B1 answered.

Kriff.

“Sir,” another one spoke up, “we’ve just picked a Republic fleet entering the system.”

“Full retreat, make for Separatist space!”

Obi-Wan looked out the bridge to see the Malevolence heavily damaged and limping away.

“Anakin, do you copy?”

After some static, he heard Anakin come through. “I’m here.”

“Congratulations, your mission was a success.”

“Partially,” he heard Anakin sigh. “it was rough on my men. So I changed our objective to destroying the Malevolence’s ion cannon. We’re heading for the medical station.”

“You can rest, we’ll take it from here,” as Anakin signed off, Obi-Wan turned his attention back to the Malevolence. “Alright, men. Let’s finish what Anakin started. Full speed.”

Unfortunately, “full retreat” equated to limping through space for hours as the Republic slowly tore his ship to shreds. As he sulked around the bridge, the B1s around him desperately tried to fix the failing systems of the Malevolence.

“Status report.”

“We’ve lost our primary shields and stabilizers, and our forward engines are shutting down.”

Grievous thought about a way to get him out of this mess. It was a card he did not want to play, but frak he needed to.

He needed to grovel at Dooku’s feet.

As the Republic fired at the bridge, the Count answered his call. “General, I am very much aware of your failure. I have arranged a trap that will give you an advantage over the Jedi. Heading towards you is the very important Republic Senator Padmé Amidala. With her on board your ship as a hostage, they will call off their attack.”

“As you wish, my lord.”

Soon after his groveling ended, he turned to a B1. “Prepare our tractor beams for the Senator. I do not want her to escape.”

After a short period of waiting, the B1 alerted him that the Senator had exited hyperspace.

“Good, our hostage has arrived. Pull the ship in,” and the powerful tractor beams of the Malevolence did their job and pulled the small ship into her hangar.

A few minutes later, the Republic ceased firing.

Just as Count Dooku promised.

“I’m going down to the main hangar to have a chat with our new bargaining chip. While I am gone, see to it that the hyperdrive is up and running again.”

Well… this was certainly not how Padmé thought her day was going to go. She had received word from a member of the IGBC that they wanted to discuss more lenient trade negotiations.

Of course, it was too good to be true.

As she began preparing her ship for her diversion plan, C-3PO looked out at the hangar.

“It does not look very inviting out there, my Lady.”

“I don’t like much either, but there’s nothing we can do about that now,” after a few more button presses she turned and took a deep breath, then she hit one final button, “I’ve overloaded the ship’s power system, come on.”

As they exited her ship, they sneaked their way to the other side of the hangar and behind some supply boxes. After some time, she finally saw him.

General Grievous.

Even from her distance, she felt a chill run down her spine. As he moved, the flow of his white cape gave the illusion that he was a spirit floating above the ground. As she watched him, a singular thought filled her mind.

  Please go inside.

As he walked into the ship, Grievous knew something was off, as the Senator was nowhere to be seen. Then he heard a faint but distinct beeping.

The telltale signs of a trap.

He barely had time to flee before the ship exploded.

As he emerged from the rubble, there was a farce ringing on his right side. As he lifted his hand, he could feel that his right audio receptor was completely gone. His left wasn’t faring much better. He had to turn it to its highest setting just to hear anything.

Along with his damaged audio receptors, his armor was smudged, chipped, and even cracked in a few places. His joints strained to hold him up as a few sparks sputtered, and his once-flowing cape was nothing more than a tattered mess around his neck, shoulders, and upper back.

Mercifully, his internals were spared. He could already tell that A4-D was going to have a field day with his body when he got back to his fortress.

“Sound the alarm, we have a stowaway on board,” He shouted. “Send word to the bridge that they will have to contact me through the ship’s com system.”

As Padmé and C-3PO briskly moved through the halls, avoiding search parties almost every other turn, they arrived at a com panel.

Let’s hope I remember what Anakin taught me.

As she messed with the com panel, C-3PO kept watch.

“My Lady, I’m afraid we don’t have much time,” the Prodigal Droid whispered as a clanking sound came their way. She pulled him behind a sheet of metal that must have been the ceiling at one point.

She looked to see that, even though she expected it, the General had survived. What she didn’t expect was just how banged up he was. Audio from the com panel interrupted her thoughts.

“Uh, General?”

“What,” Grievous growled.

“The damage to the hyperdrive was not as bad as we first thought. We should be able to make a jump relatively shortly.”

Padmé held in the urge to suck in a breath as the General responded, “Find the Senator and bring her to the bridge. I must inform Count Dooku of this development.”

As the General and the B1s moved away in opposite directions, she made sure the coast was clever before returning to the com panel. After a few more tense minutes of hacking, she heard the soft static of feedback.

“This is Senator Amidala. Does anyone copy?”

After a few seconds of nothing, a voice came through the other side, “Padmé, is that you?”

It was the young voice of Ahsoka. Padmé sighed with relief.

“Yes, me and Threepio are here.”

“Hang on, Obi-Wan and my Master went to come and get you. Let me patch them through.” After a few more seconds of silence, Padmé heard her husband’s voice.

“Are you alright Senator Amidala? Where are you?” Anakin asked.

“On the lower levels, I’m fine, but I don’t know for how long. Droids are everywhere.”

“Ahsoka, how can we reach the Senator?”

“According to our scans, there seems to be a large open area in the center of the ship. It should be halfway between the two of you.”

“We’re on our way,” Anakin said. “Did you hear that, Senator?”

“I’ll be there.”

As Grievous entered the bridge, one of the B1s tasked with repairing the hyperdrive approached him.

“General, we just detected an unauthorized communication coming from within the ship.”

“What did it say?”

“The Senator is going to meet with a rescue party on the rail jet network.”

Finally, some good news for once. It truly was refreshing when these stupid droids could do basic tasks.

“Track all internal communications and send all search parties to the rail jet entrance points. I want that senator on this bridge within the hour.”

Anakin and Obi-Wan looked out over the vast expanse of rail jets zooming back and forth.

“I don’t see her, Anakin.”

“She’s here, I sense it.” Anakin hoped that Obi-Wan couldn’t hear the worry of his wife in his voice. As soon as he found out that they had roped her into this, he struggled to quell his panic. Not before long, they heard blaster fire coming from another entrance point below them.

“There!” He and Obi-Wan jumped from one oncoming rail jet to another, deflecting oncoming blaster bolts from battle droids that had congregated at various entrances. However, they were still a level up from Padmé.

Anakin jumped down onto a platform parallel to hers. However, a rocket fired from a B2 disabled her track up ahead.

“Jump to me,” Anakin shouted. “I’ll use the Force to carry you over. You have to trust me!”

She looked at him, truly scared, but she did so with little hesitation. As she jumped, he quickly reeled her in with the Force.

“I got you,” Anakin whispered in her ear and held her tighter than he had in a long while. As their platform went under a covered tunnel, they shared a quick kiss. “The things you do to get me alone with you.”

“Stop talking,” was all she said back as they went in for another kiss. However, they were interrupted by Anakin’s com.

“Anakin, I got separated from your droid.”

“Threepio,” Padmé remembered.

Anakin sighed. “I’ll take care of it. We’ll meet you back at the ship.”

“No,” Padmé interjected, “I overheard Grievous. Their hyperdrive is almost repaired.”

“I’m already heading in that direction,” Obi-Wan said. “I’ll make sure the hyperdrive stays offline.”

As Obi-Wan left the call, he turned to Padmé, “looks like I’m getting you out here,” he then went back to his com, “Artoo, I need you to help me find Threepio. He’s on the rail jet.” On the other side of the com, he heard his Astromech give off disgruntled beeps. “I know, I know, he does. Look, just find him for me, and I’ll be there soon.”

“I’m already heading in that direction. I’ll make sure the hyperdrive stays offline.”

“We’ll see about that. Alert the droids stationed there,” Grievous ordered as he turned to exit the bridge.

With the pain in his joints searing through his body, he was just able to overcome the pain and set a brisk pace so that Kenobi would not interfere with the hyperdrive.

Grievous would have loved nothing more than to kill Kenobi, and not just because he was on the Jedi Council. Soon after being put in command of the Separatist’s military, he learned Kenobi was the red-haired Jedi he was so enthralled by on Geonosis.

However, there were two obstacles that stood in his way. The first obstacle was that Grievous was in no condition to fight. Second, he had none of his typical strengths.

Kenobi knew he was on the ship, so his element of surprise had been spoiled. Kenobi was one of the bravest in the entire Jedi Order, so fear would not be in play. And last, stories abound of Kenobi’s ability to have complete control over any situation he was in, so it was clear that he could not be intimidated easily.

That meant Grievous was going to have to get creative in taking this Jedi down. Perhaps lulling him into a false sense of security?

Obi-Wan walked into the dimmed room where the hyperdrive would be. As he walked in, the two B1s noticed his presence, and they pushed a button. The lights came on as B1s and B2s made their way to him from both the left and right bridges, as well as behind him. Three Droidekas rolled up and shielded the hyperdrive from him.

He then heard a loud thud from behind him.

“Hello there,” a robotic voice greeted.

“General Grievous, I was wondering if you were going to make an appearance,” as he looked at the General, he could see that Grievous had seen better days. His body had clearly taken a beating, which didn’t give off the imposing figure that was built up in his head.

“Is that so?” Grievous asked as he yanked one of the B1’s blasters out of its grip. “Did you really think you could just walk in here and deactivate the hyperdrive?”

“Anything is possible. You haven’t exactly given us your best work as of late.”

Grievous and the other battle droids lifted their blasters, but Obi-Wan jumped out of the way of the blaster fire. As soon as he landed, he used the Force to push the Droidekas towards the sides, clearing much of the remaining battle droids.

He sent the remaining Droideka barreling towards Grievous, who halted it from pushing him off the edge. But his diversion gave him the chance to flee.

Anakin and Padmé ran through the halls, dodging blaster fire at every turn. As they hid behind some rubble, Anakin used his com to contact Obi-Wan as his wife provided some cover.

“Obi-Wan, come in.”

“Anakin, I’m afraid Grievous is onto us.”

“Yeah, we noticed,” he said as Obi-Wan’s voice became crowded with feedback.

“We’ll rendezvous back at the ship, the fleet must engage the-” his voice was completely cut off by interference.

“They’re jamming us,” he told Padmé. He then quickly engaged the droids that had followed them, cutting them down.

“I suppose you have a backup plan?” his wife asked.

“I’m going to hot-wire the ship’s navicomputer. We should pass by the Dead Moon of Antar soon. I’ll tell it to crash into it,” he smiled back, “come on.”

Obi-Wan leaped onto the platform of one of the rail jets. Not far behind, he could hear Grievous do the same. As he tried to figure out a plan, he could hear the General smashing his way through supply boxes to the Jedi.

Obi-Wan ignited his blade. He saw Grievous pull out two blades, and with a primal roar, they crashed down onto his. Obi-Wan pushed him back and tried to flee, but he ran out of space on the rail jet to retreat to. Before Grievous’ blades crashed down, he rolled off and landed on another rail jet heading in the opposite direction.

As the distance between him and the General grew, he lowered his head and took deep breaths. He had just survived an encounter with General Grievous. But he couldn’t dwell on that for long. He needed to meet back up with Anakin.

“I do believe we’re lost,” C-3PO said, “and in enemy territory, no less.”

He heard R2-D2 beep back in response.

“Are you quite certain the ship is in this direction?”

R2-D2 responded again.

“Don’t get technical with me! This way looks much too dangerous.”

The Astromech stopped and turned around.

“I know this whole place is dangerous! I suggest we stay here and let master Anakin find us.”

As if on cue, who should appear but Anakin and Padmé from a nearby elevator door.

“Threepio, what are you doing,” Anakin said, “Don’t just stand there, we need to get back to the ship!”

As he and Padmé passed C-3PO, R2-D2 made another comment.

“Oh, don’t think so highly of yourself. We both know you wouldn’t last a day without me.”

Grievous sprinted across the hangar and got into Soulless One.

“This is Gray Leader, standing by,” Grievous said as the remaining Vulture Droids in the hangar came to life. As they shot out of the hangar after Grievous, he saw a freighter rushing back to the Republic fleet. “concentrate all fire on that freighter!”

But as always, something interrupted him. This time it was the sound of his com beeping. As he clicked it, a nasally voice droid came through.

“General? I think there’s something wrong with the navicomputer.”

What do you mean something is wrong with the navicomputer?

“Uh, the navicomputer is heading us right into the moon.”

“Fools! Reset the navicomputer!”

Grievous looked out his cockpit to see the Malevolence barreling toward the moon. He felt the reverberations of the shockwave rock his cockpit.

He had failed.

He heard his transmitter beeping again, no doubt Count Dooku awaiting a status report. He then looked ahead at the freighter, getting ever closer to the safety of the Republic fleet.

Damn it all.

Grievous hit a button to cancel the incoming transmission from Dooku, changed course, and blasted off into hyperspace.

It had been a few days since the destruction of the Malevolence, and much relief had been shared after the news that the Republic could stand up to Grievous broke. However, something didn’t sit right with Obi-Wan. Something didn’t sit right with Grievous.

He had learned that the reason for his damaged state when he faced him on the Malevolence was thanks to Senator Amidala rigging her ship to explode. He had to admit that her action aided in him being able to flee Grievous without injury. But that wasn’t what bothered him, what did was how Grievous had behaved towards him.

Unlike his depictions from the Jedi who survived Hypori, where Grievous was precise in every attack he made, Obi-Wan could feel the rage radiating off the General when their sabers eventually clashed. To his knowledge, while one could program droids to register and interpret emotion, he could actually sense the rage coming off Grievous like he could with other organics.

This only fueled Obi-Wan’s curiosity for the General, so much so that he made a request to the Council.

He later found himself at the Jedi Archives. If there was something you needed to know, more often than not, it could be found here. However, today he was not looking for knowledge. He was here to create knowledge. He retrieved an empty data tape and sat down.

Title: Notes and Records on General Grievous

Original Author: Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi

Access Level: Military

Editor Verification Required: Jedi High Council

Password: Agamemnon-4-2-1914

After he set up the data tape, he took a breath and began speaking.

Entry Number: 1

This is Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. By this point in the Clone Wars, General Grievous has proven that the Separatist forces will fight the Grand Army of the Republic for much longer than anyone expected. As of now, the destruction of the Malevolence stands as his only failure at this point in the war. While it is good that the Separatists no longer have it at their disposal. I know that Grievous will soon strike again.

This data tape is to be an archive of notes and records of any I have received about the General. Perhaps later down the line, this data tape will hold the key to stopping him or someone like him.

Our first recorded face-to-face encounter with the General in the war was during the Battle of Hypori. It was there he killed four Jedi, mortally wounded another two, and disarmed another before a strike team could come in to rescue them.

However, during the Council meeting where the Jedi recounted their tale, two things were stated that did not sit right with me. The first was that it was stated that before Grievous attacked, he not only called for a ceasefire from his forces, but he took a moment to taunt the Jedi.

Though the idea of a battle droid taunting Republic forces is not an unheard-of concept. Tactical Droids are analytical, to where it forms a personality of overconfidence. But this was different.

It was as if Grievous was toying with the minds of the Jedi. What Grievous did required the programming to know how to use psychological warfare. If that is the case, then the “Grievous” droid model is so expensive. He is likely the only one of his kind.

The second stated fact was that Grievous could not just fight with lightsabers, but that he had a mastery of the seven forms of lightsaber combat. Information like that is a closely guarded secret and would take years to program into a single training droid. So the fact that Grievous not only knew them, but also knew how to use them to kill is a serious matter.

The next important note comes from his victory at the Battle of Nadiem, where he won despite his fleet being outnumbered three to one. This victory reaffirms his ability to think on a dime and win despite the odds being stacked against him.

Finally, we come to my personal account on the Malevolence. During the rescue of Senator Amidala, I attempted to shut down the hyperdrive. However, I was forced to flee from Grievous. During my brief encounter with him, it almost seemed like he was in a rage.

Once again, whoever programmed this droid must have spent a lot of time and resources to create the perfect droid. I dare say, it almost felt like Grievous was more than just a droid.

This is all I have to go off of for now. I will come back and update this data tap when I receive new information.

End of Entry

Chapter Text

Grievous’ entire body ached. He had to turn his remaining audio receptor down to a low level, as he was receiving heavy feedback from higher levels. As he struggled to pull himself out of the cockpit, he felt pricks of acute pain across his heavy limbs.

As he made his way out of the hangar and deeper into his fortress, Grievous heard the distinct low rumblings and footsteps of his pet. Gor made a noise akin to a soft moan as he nudged Grievous. Grievous responded with a rub to the Roggwart’s snout.

As he made his way to the main command room, A4-D turned to look at him. Grievous took that as an opportunity to silence his doctor before he blabbered about something trivial.

“Not a word,” Grievous growled. Fortunately, his doctor followed his request. He moved to lie down on the operating table. His doctor turned on his light away from the table so as not to blind Grievous as much.

His doctor went to work, removing the pieces that needed replacing. With every piece A4-D took, Grievous’ gut-sack quivered. Even if it was just plating and not something connected to circuits, he felt the pinprick pain all the way through. It was as if he was being torn apart by a savage beast.

“You are nearly due for another filtration. I suggest you go through with it now.”

Grievous desperately wanted to avoid that right now, but sadly his doctor was right. It would be better to do it now rather than later.

After his doctor replaced, cleaned, or buffered out the pieces of his body, Grievous got up and went to his filtration station. It had a rounded base where he would stand. As he did so, it clamped his hands and feet to the bases.

Locked in place, two mechanisms came up to his chest plates and reached under to release the suction cups that kept the chest plate tight to his gut-sack. The mechanisms then unscrewed the back of the chest plates and removed them.

His gut-sack now completely exposed, Grievous took deep breaths to prevent it from spasming. Two other mechanisms came up and attached tubes to closed portholes on his sides.

At once, it pushed the green liquid that was keeping his organs healthy through the tubes. His organs shuttered at the sensation as he flicked his eyes around, trying to take his mind off things.

While in this state, A4-D would tell him the news. The news was often the kind that would send him into a rage, so being suspended like this prevented him from destroying anything. Today’s news was no different.

“Count Dooku has informed me to tell you that he has disbanded your fleet.”

What?

“The Fortressa is still yours to command, but he has sent the rest of your fleet elsewhere.”

How could Dooku do this? He was ready to end this war. But because of one lost ship, Dooku thought it was right to shoot Grievous in the foot. Did Dooku believe that one loss was worth more than many victories? The answer was apparently yes.

Grievous would have to start from scratch, and he would prove to everyone that he had not lost his edge.

Grievous’s first order of business was his body. He always wanted to improve himself when he found a chink. This time, he made an improved design for his audio receptors. The Explosion he narrowly survived rendered him nearly deaf.

He had to have the droids on the bridge to use the com system to communicate with him. Perhaps the Senator and Skywalker were the ones who reset the navicomputer while he fought Kenobi.

After making a few adjustments, his audio receptors and internal com mechanisms were now fully operational and protected within his head. His artificial ears were now entirely decorative. However, they added to his appearance, so he kept them.

Now that he had removed another weakness of his body, he could now focus on military affairs. There was a plan he had been mulling over since Dooku put him in command. Now was the perfect opportunity to see it through.

“What is the status of Operation Asteroid-Probe?”

“They are waiting for your orders,” A4-D replied.

“Tell them they have the go-ahead to launch.”

Operation Asteroid-Probe was an intelligence operation that, if successful, would give the Confederacy access to Republic intel.

Since the start of the war, both sides had compiled information to deliver a crushing blow to their opposition. But retrieving intel is a dangerous game. Much of the intel that is easy to find is fake. Even if you find real intel, most of it is “tagged” and will notify the Republic if opened.

But what if you could just walk in and take it?

The Republic was considerably larger than the Confederacy, and therefore had ways of storing all the data of every general, ship, starfighter, unit, and system fighting against the Confederates. Enter Industrial Automaton, one of the largest droid-making conglomerates in the galaxy, and creator of the R-Series Astromech Droids.

Astromechs were one of the greatest assets the Republic had. They could hold hyperspace coordinates, memorize schematics for ships and fighters, perform routine maintenance, and so much more. Industrial Automaton had made five Astromech units, but the R2, R3, and R4 units were the most common.

Operation Asteroid-Probe's goal was to place “spies” into the Astromech program so the Confederacy could gain Republic intel through osmosis.

With that, Grievous had one thing left to do: rebuild his fleet. It’s not that his old fleet was ineffective, it’s just that there was only so much he could do with over eighty of the same ship. Although he would never say it, his fleet being disbanded was probably for the best. Since the initial start of the war, both sides had added several new ships and starfighters.

At the start of the war, the Republic had started with an underwhelming fleet. However, by now they had found their footing with the Venators, C70s, and Y-Wings.

The Republic had also made changes to its existing ships. The Republic’s Carrack-Class Light Cruisers had two configurations, a standard variant, and an anti-starfighter variant. However, since the Venators had become more commonplace in the Republic’s Navy, the anti-starfighter variant became obsolete.

When Grievous was put in charge of the Confederacy’s war efforts, he had to take time reorganizing everything, which slowed the ability to design new ships.

The Providence-Class Dreadnought was simply a larger variant of the Providence and the Hyena-Class Bomber was a counterpart of the Vulture Droid.

Then there was the Recusant-Class Support Destroyer. The Recusants were piloted by a cutting-edge droid brain, which is what gave them their skeletal frame. This also allowed for many sections or systems needed for crews to be absent in its design, with a single Recusant only needing a hundred and fifty crew members.

Like the Republic, Grievous also made changes to his existing ships. Just before he was promoted to Supreme Commander of the Droid Army, Muunilinst had fallen to the Republic. This made the use of Hailfire-Class Droid Tanks much more difficult, as the world where most came from was no longer in Confederate hands.

Grievous did not mind this too much, as this gave him the excuse to stop using Hardcell-Class Interstellar Transports to carry them, which were easily the weakest link in his original fleet. That was Grievous’ primary goal for his new fleet, finding and eliminating weaknesses.

However, there was another aspect that limited him: the way he divided up his fleet. When his fleet was all together, its sheer size was enough to win his battles. Now that he was reorganizing, he only had three ships at his disposal: the Munificent, Diamond, and Recusant. If he wanted to succeed, the subdivisions needed to work on their own just as well as they did together.

The first subdivision of his fleet he created centered on the only ship he kept, the Fortressa. He had four Recusants flank her, each with two Munificents at their sides. This was because the Recusant was like a needle. Anything in its direct line of fire would be pierced, but with enough pressure, its skeletal frame would easily snap. So the Munificents would act like guide dogs, making sure that the Recusant was not without protection when engaging other ships.

For Grievous’ second subdivision, he would need another capital ship to center it around. Fortunately for him, he was not above bullying it out of the hands of someone else. Especially if that someone was Nute Gunray.

The Invisible Hand was a Providence-Class Dreadnought. What intrigued Grievous, however, was that it had received heavy modifications during its construction. Her most notable modification was her expanded hangar space, allowing her to store much more fighters than any other Providence.

Tragically, Gunray only ever used her as just another expensive showpiece.

Grievous had the Invisible Hand requisitioned and informed her crew that they were now relieved of duty, effective immediately. Naturally, Gunray protested the seizure of his ship, however as Grievous was in charge of all things the CIS did on a military level, it was met with deaf ears.

In fact, it was so totally ignored that Count Dooku’s master, Darth Sidious, ordered him to give Grievous the Invisible Hand, which pleased him greatly.

He placed the Invisible Hand in front of the Fortressa, and she was protected by six Recusants and eight Munificents. Snugly placed in the empty spaces of the front half of his fleet were twelve Diamonds, which allowed them to act as another layer of defense if any Republic starfighters made it through the swarms of Vulture Droids and Hyena Bombers.

Now that Grievous had a fleet again, he was ready to once again strike fear into the Republic.

Everyone was deathly quiet at the Valor Space Station. It had an almost universal grip on everyone there. Attending the Republic Strategy Conference were the Republic’s top military command and even some members of the Jedi High Council. Regardless, they were all there for the same reason.

General Grievous.

It would be fair for Obi-Wan to say that the destruction of the Malevolence was a shot in the arm the Republic needed. It was not only a tremendous boost of morale for the troops, but it also proved that General Grievous could lose a battle.

However, the Republic’s victory over the General was short-lived. As soon after his ship was destroyed, Grievous was back with a vengeance. Like a Padawan who was trying to prove themself after a mistake, he was relentless in letting up.

In short order, Grievous had won six major Separatist victories in just one month.

His first victory was on the planet Anoth. Calling it a planet was probably a stretch, as Anoth was more akin to a dwarf planet, a large moon, or even just a collection of shattered rocks that all orbited around the same center of mass.

Nevertheless, there was a small portion where life could be sustained, and the Republic had set up an outpost there. However, after Grievous showed up, he not only beat the Republic’s forces stationed there, but he removed Anoth from the map, literally. When the Republic’s reinforcements came to where Anoth should have been, there was nothing.

While you could make the argument that Anoth was not important to the Republic, the same could not be said about his second victory at Bakura.

Despite Bakura presiding in Wild Space, it was connected to the Shiritoku Way, a hyperspace lane that connected it to the rest of the galaxy. This allowed Bakura to export repulsorlift coils and Namana Wood-based products.

General Grievous marched through the streets of cities, slaying anyone in his way. He then killed all but one member of the government, who is now believed to be a traitor.

However, what concerned Obi-Wan and The Council was what happened to the Jedi on Bakura. There was a pair of Jedi stationed there who were giving lessons to ten Jedi Younglings. The last contact the Jedi had with the Republic was that they were going into the forest to get more in touch with the force. That message was given just before the General’s arrival.

Obi-Wan shuttered at the thought of what happened to the Younglings. However, Grievous had already moved on to his next target.

His third target was Ord Mantell, which had a small Republic force stationed there. Even with numbers on his side, the Republic put up enough of a fight that Grievous ordered his troops to burn down entire cities to divert Republic troops so he could escape.

Despite not losing the battle, the criminal organization known as the Shadow Collective soon overran the Republic forces. They took advantage of the chaos and seized the planet from the Republic’s hands.

But Grievous’ first three victories were nothing compared to the next three. In an admittedly brilliant move, he blockaded the crucial hyperspace lanes running to Bespin, Kessel, and Mon Cala.

The General’s blitz in the Outer Rim helped consolidate the Separatist’s power there. It also cut off major Republic suppliers of Tibanna gas, which was used as a conducting agent in blasters and other energy weapons, and Spice, which was a very lucrative drug.

Obi-Wan didn’t think that Grievous would be stopped after one defeat, but he didn’t expect him to go on a brutal campaign to settle the score. But before he could get lost in thought, the meeting began.

“As you are all aware, General Grievous has made startling gains since losing his flagship,” Mace Windu said. “It is imperative that we stop Grievous before he pushes towards the Mid Rim and Core Worlds.”

All heads in the room nodded before he continued, “Fortunately, Captain Tarkin here believes he has found a pattern in the General’s plans.”

With that, Mace Windu took a step aside as Captain Tarkin stepped forward. Obi-Wan had heard about Tarkin, how he was just as brilliant as he was distrusting of the Jedi’s competency in the war.

“On the surface, I thought General Grievous’ attacks seemed unconnected, aside from his three-pronged attack of the hyperspace lanes. But upon further examination, I now know that they were all carefully timed.”

He paused, looking around to make sure everyone was paying attention. “The first reason I discovered this was that all six attacks had no warning. There was no intel given that these systems had the potential to be invaded. Then, when I looked at the schedules for when Republic fleets would pass by, I discovered that each invasion happened when it would take the Republic the longest to respond.”

A soft muttering spread through the audience. Plo Koon spoke up, “Are you suggesting that someone is feeding him information?”

“No,” Tarkin responded, “but since there was the traitor on Bakura, I would not be surprised if someone was. I believe that Grievous has found a way for the Separatists to slice through the Republic’s protections and gain valuable intelligence.”

That made Obi-Wan think. The Republic was so focused on stopping Grievous that the invisible war of intelligence had not even crossed his mind. If Grievous was going after the Republic’s intelligence, that would mean that…

“Is it possible that Grievous could use Bothan Space to aid in his intelligence?” he asked. Tarkin looked annoyed at another interruption for a moment, then his face changed to one of contemplation.

“That’s not entirely out of the question. The Bothans have been supplying both sides with intelligence, and I would not say that the General would be opposed to force exclusivity.”

Obi-Wan paid attention to the rest of the conference, and once it was finished, he made a call to Anakin and Ahsoka.

“Hello, Obi-Wan. How was your conference?”

“It was eye-opening, however, it got me to think. I believe I know where Grievous is going to strike next.”

Operation Asteroid-Probe had been a huge success for Grievous, netting him six victories for the CIS in under a month, which also had the bonus of getting Dooku off of his back. However, the Republic figured out that he was planning to invade Bothawui.

Bothawui was home to the Bothans, who were the galaxy’s masters of intelligence. Since the start of the war, the Bothans had been selling intelligence to both sides. However, it seemed like Grievous had to inform them they were only going to be working for the Confederacy from now on.

Although Grievous was rather put off by an interruption in his schedule, his skirmishes with Skywalker entertained him.

Grievous had one encounter with Skywalker, that being when the Jedi disabled the Malevolence’s ion cannon. But now Grievous could see what Skywalker could do in fleet combat. He engaged with him on four separate occasions, three in open space and one over Falleen. The latter of which saw Dooku and Ventress directly aid in the planet falling into the Confederacy’s hands.

Grievous was on the bridge of the Invisible Hand, moving his fleet around before he jumped into hyperspace to arrive at Bothawui.

“I will take the front left flank with me. When I Jump out of hyperspace, I will send an order to send the front right flank out to Bothawui. The Diamonds will stay with the Fortressa and her flanks. Does that compute?”

“Yes, Sir. I will send in your reinforcements when you send word of your arrival,” answered NB-227 from the Fortressa.

Grievous had learned that if he said exactly what he wanted in succinct terms, then NB-227 could follow through with them without fraking up. Grievous left the bridge and took Soulless One. He landed in a Munificent’s hangar, and he was soon traveling through hyperspace.

When his small fleet entered the Bothawui system, he saw from the bridge of the Munificent that there was a Republic fleet between Bothawui and its rings.

Skywalker.

“This is General Grievous,” he contacted the Fortressa. “I have arrived at Bothawui. You will start sending in my reinforcements.”

He then looked at the Republic fleet again. If he moved above the planetary rings, then his ships’ exposed undersides would be easy pickings for the Republic. But if he moved his fleet through the rings, then his fragile Recusants would snap from direct impacts from the asteroids.

“Order the Recusants and Diamonds to be on standby. We will move our Munificents through the rings to engage the Republic.”

“Through?” questioned the commanding B1.

“Move all our shield’s power to the forward shields. The asteroids will protect our rear.”

As his fleet split up, he saw the Republic deploy a squadron of V19s, with a Delta-7B leading the charge. Fortunately, his Munificents were just about to clear the planetary rings.

“Sir, we have a clear shot of the Republic fleet,” said the commanding B1.

“Concentrate all fire on the closest Republic ships and send fire towards their fighters.”

“Roger, Roger.”

His ships began firing at the Skywalker’s fleet and fighters. All was going well…

“Sir, we are picking up readings from the asteroids behind us. We have been outflanked.”

“Impossible,” he shouted. But the impossible soon became reality as a Munificent to his right was receiving fire from the rear. The Republic had stationed AT-ETs on the asteroids.

He was surrounded.

Other Munificents received fire from the Republic fleet, while the bridge of the one directly to his left was taken out by the Delta-7B. Although he wished to continue the fight as he did at Nadiem, Grievous knew he had already lost. He grumbled as he walked out of the bridge and to Soulless One.

That walk became a run as his Munificent received fire. He sprinted through the hangar engulfed in flames and made it to his fighter. As he shot out of the hangar, the Delta-7B soon followed him.

If he could just make it to the three Recusants he put on standby, they could cover for him.

But in an odd stroke of luck, the Jedi that was pursuing him seemed to not have his force on his side, as a piece of shrapnel hit the delicate Delta-7B, causing it to spin out of control.

Grievous fled to the small hangar of one Recusant. He went to the bridge, and all but ripped the head off of the commanding B1.

“Form a defensive position until the reinforcements arrive, then we will push the Republic out!”

Once he had regrouped with his fleet, he pushed the Republic out of Bothan Space. He had his fleet stationed there while he traveled to Ruusan II.

It was on Ruusan II where the Skytop Station was located, a Trade Federation Battlesphere designed to track and send Republic information. Most of the information that Operation Asteroid-Probe picked up came through here before being sent to other destinations.

Despite his loss at Bothawui, Grievous was in a rather good mood. Not only was it Skywalker that failed to chase him, but Skywalker’s Astromech had been picked up by a Trandoshan salvager who Grievous arranged to have brought to him and picked apart for information. In another odd twist of fate, the Astromech that replaced Skywalker’s old one was a unit that Operation Asteroid-Probe had bugged.

Not only would he be receiving updates on Skywalker’s position, but he would also see a huge strategic victory for the Confederacy through the knowledge he could use against the Republic.

Grievous picked up an incoming signal from the Trandoshan salvager. “What is it?”

“I am approaching your rendezvous point, General. I will be at your station shortly. However, I should inform you that a Jedi came looking for it. Maybe it is worth more than we negotiated.”

“Don’t push me, slime,” Grievous growled as he cut the transmission.

“Lower the shields,” he commanded a nearby worker.

As he waited, he could only imagine the information that was hidden within the Astromech. If Skywalker was looking for it, then certainly there was valuable information to find. Soon enough, a door opened and Grievous heard an Astromech approaching. He was met with a white and blue Astromech that was trembling with trepidation.

“This is the droid the Jedi came looking for, General,” the Trandoshan salvager said.

“What secrets do you carry, my little friend?” Grievous asked the droid as he reached out a hand to run his fingers over its dome. The Astromech replied with it turning its head away from him.

“So defiant. Don’t worry. I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” he chuckled. He then looked back at the Trandoshan salvager. “Rip this Astromech apart and find out everything it knows.”

“Right away, General.”

As the salvager went to work, the last thing Grievous thought he would feel for the droid was sympathy, but it was exactly what he felt. The squeals of presumed pain came from the Astromech as it was picked apart, just like his howls of genuine pain when his doctor operated on him. It was so bad that he had to turn away from the salvager.

While waiting on news of anything of value found, he got a message from Skywalker’s bugged Astromech that he was at the station with a squad of clones. Grievous told a worker to inform the security forces, then he silently told the four MagnaGuards stationed at the Battlesphere to report to him. They wouldn’t be on the level of his MagnaGuards, but they would buy him time if needed.

“General Grievous,” the salvager alerted him. As he walked over, the Trandoshan continued. “It appears that this droid’s mission memory has never been erased. It contains Republic formations, strategies, ship and troop data, combat and convoy movements… It’s all here!”

Grievous was stunned. This was far, far more than what he expected. With this, he could keep the entire Republic on the back foot for at least a year, maybe two. However, his train of thought was being derailed by the Trandoshan babbling about increased pay. He ended that noise with a lightsaber through the slime’s back.

Through his audio receptors, he told the Skywalker’s bugged Astromech to delay the Jedi as much as possible while he made a copy of all the information from the one strewn about the table. It made a pathetic whine as the hard drive plugged into it finished copying the files. As he pulled it out and attached it to one of his magnetic holsters, the four MagnaGuards arrived.

“Republic troops have infiltrated the base. Keep this droid secure. I will deal with the Jedi myself.”

Ahsoka and the squad of clones moved their way through the corridors. She and her Master had received word that Grievous’ main base of intelligence operations was on Ruusan II. However, her Master also saw that Artoo’s last single came from this station.

She and the clones heard the alarm go off and quickened their pace. By the time they arrived at the door to the Battlesphere’s reactor, it had already been ray-shielded.

Her Master had broken off from the group, determined to find Artoo.

“We found the reactor room, Skywalker,” Captain Rex spoke into his com. “The alarm triggered another security door… ray-shielded.”

As the R3 unit she affectionately called “Goldie” worked on lowering the ray-shields, the sound of marching battle droids drew closer. She and the clones took defensive positions as they engaged the B1s.

As she used the blaster redirection training her Master taught her, another door closed over the already ray-shielded ones Goldie was supposed to disarm. But she couldn’t focus on that as a group of B2s came upon them from the other direction.

“Rex, droid poppers, now!”

“Droid poppers,” he responded as he threw the small brown spheroid at the B2s. After a few seconds, a wave of electricity washed over them, overloading their circuits and disabling them. Another one was sent to the B1s, and they too fell from the wave of electricity.

As she and the clones collected themselves, they looked to the door that now had even more protection. Ahsoka winced at herself. Her Master had been apprehensive about replacing Artoo so soon after losing him, and the plenty of trouble they had with Goldie didn’t help things.

“Perhaps we can spare some charges to-” the power to all the lights cut, plunging them into darkness. Before they could adjust their eyes to the darkness, something quickly moved past them, killing one of the clones, then another, then another.

Ahsoka, Rex, and the other remaining clone, named Denal, were back to back in a circle, looking in every direction. She desperately tried to calm herself.

Come on, think! What would my Master say in this situation?

Then she felt it.

It was something only she could feel. It was a feeling of deep dread within herself. A feeling that the Force was screaming at her to do something about before it was too late.

Everything moved in slow motion, as she only had milliseconds to react. Ahsoka turned and jumped, using the Force to push Rex and Denal away. The lights came on as a gray and white shape dropped from the ceiling. She rolled and raised her lightsaber, just in time to block the blue one that was being swung down with a metal arm like a hammer to a nail.

With tremendous force, she pushed the blue blade back just in time to block a strike from a new green blade. She blocked again, then rolled. She ran down the hall with Goldie in hot pursuit. Ahsoka made increasingly elaborate turns, trying to lose the monster.

She found a room of spare battle droid parts and hid amongst the shelves. Despite her best efforts, she did not lose the monster as she heard its footsteps enter the room.

“Where is the fight you promised me, Jedi?”

Using the Force she knocked over an empty box, luring the monster away. Her com then went off. Thankfully, the monster didn’t seem to notice.

“Ahsoka, it’s Rex. Should we abort the mission?”

“No, complete the mission. Set the charges and rendezvous at the landing bay.”

“But Sir-”

“That’s an order, Rex. I’ll keep the General busy. Ahsoka out.”

With her order finished, she turned off her com and quietly scaled the shelves, reaching the top and getting a view of the room. Then she saw something she never would have guessed, Goldie communicating with Grievous.

“Skywalker has retrieved his R2 unit and his party is rendezvousing at the landing bay? Go and make certain that doesn’t happen.”

That stubby little backstabber!

As Goldie left the room, the General continued his search. She needed to get to the landing bay as soon as possible. With some determination, she slowly made her way down from her position, inching her way to the exit.

Almost there…

Just a little further and she’d be home free.

Almost there…

She could almost stick her hand through the open doorway.

Almost-

A metal hand came from above, pulling her face to face with Grievous. She tried to raise her saber, but he knocked it out of her hand. He got down from his raised position and retrieved her blade.

She desperately kicked and tried to pull his hand off her neck, but it was no use. It was also no use in keeping a straight face anymore as a few tears rolled down her face.

He looked at her saber as he ignited the blade, “Another lightsaber to add to my collection,” he then turned to look at her. He paused, before chuckling, “They sent a child to destroy my station? The Republic must be running out of Jedi.”

It was then that it appeared as if he was struck with a thought.

“If Skywalker is here for his droid, then that must mean you are his Padawan,” he stated. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure his death is as quick as yours.”

To keep her composure, she responded. “You’re wrong. He’s probably gone by now, and he’s going to blow your precious spy station sky-high.”

“Is that so?” The General questioned her in a mocking tone. He then moved her saber to the right side of her face, the edge of the blade searing her flesh. More tears escaped her tear ducts, some of which instantly evaporated upon contact with the lightsaber.

As Grievous moved the blade away, possibly to admire the burn he had left, massive shockwaves caused by the explosive charges set by Rex rocked the station. Begging the Force to give her strength, Ahsoka took the General’s hand and forced her lightsaber down, severing his hand that was around her neck.

Ahsoka grabbed her blade and ran up the side of a shelf, her momentum causing it to tilt and hit the other shelves like dominos. Using it as a springboard, she jumped through a ventilation shaft. As she quickly made her way through, she narrowly missed a few rabid strikes from a blue blade.

After Skywalker’s young Togruta Padawan escaped him, Grievous knew that this station was beyond saving. He ran to the hangar he had arrived in Soulless One and took off. It was rather difficult to pilot her with only one hand, but he managed.

He spared one last look at the lost Battlesphere. Grievous knew Dooku would ask him how he could let that happen. But it mattered little. As he set Soulless One into autopilot and then jumped into hyperspace, he reached around and pulled up the hard drive of data he had collected from the Astromech.

This will make up for it.

Anakin was right. That R3 unit was trouble from the start. He sliced it in half after it locked the door that led back into the station.

Now he, Rex, and two clones were pinned behind the fire of three Vulture Droids that were stationed in the landing bay. Even with redirecting their fire, he couldn’t get a direct hit on them.

Then, on the edge of his field of view, he spotted a green blade cut through a vent. It was Ahsoka, who jumped on the head of one of the Vulture Droids. She jumped to the next one just as it shot at the one she was on, then in a single swing, cut its head off. The headless Vulture Droid stumbled back, knocking into the last one and sending it down as well.

Anakin, Ahsoka, Artoo, Rex, and the others made it onto the freighter and flew out to safety. After they were securely out of the system and jumping into hyperspace, he left Artoo, Rex, and the clones in the cockpit. He wanted to find his Padawan. She had run to the back of the freighter the moment the ship had taken off.

He found her curled up behind a stack of crates, her back facing him and her head on her knees.

“Ahsoka, I know you thought what you did was right, but it was reckless. You were right in distracting Grievous so Rex could set the charges, but you should have kept moving instead of letting him corner-”

He heard a soft sniff come from his Padawan.

“Ahsoka look, I’m not mad,” he reassured as he reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, “I’m just-” as soon as his hand touched her shoulder she whipped around, and that’s when he saw it.

Her eyes were bloodshot and frantically wide. Her pupils were tiny specs of black. Tear stains ran down her cheeks. But worst of all, there was a long, charred streak on the right side of her face.

Oh no…

She collapsed into his arms, heaving and hysterically gasping for air as she wailed.

This was his fault.

He was so preoccupied with getting Artoo back that he had forgotten all about Grievous until he met up with Rex in the landing bay. Grievous, who could take on several Masters at once and win, had gotten his hands around his Padawan. Grievous, who had the entire galaxy gripped with fear, had scarred his Padawan, probably the hell of it.

Grievous, who was on the same station as he was, had nearly killed his Padawan.

And his Astromech was more important than the mission.

Ahsoka wailed into his chest. He held her tight, muttering apologies into her ear. It didn’t matter if she accepted them or not, what did matter was what he was going to do next. The next time he had the chance, he was going to kill Grievous.

Grievous walked into Dooku’s estate knowing full well what he was going to say to him, and Grievous honestly did not care. He had retrieved the single greatest advantage he could have over the Republic, and he was going to hand it to Dooku on a silver platter. Did losing Skytop Station hurt them in the long run? Yes. But the information he had received from Skywalker’s R2 unit outweighed that loss by a magnitude of a hundred.

“General, when I received word that our spy station was destroyed, I was at a loss for words. Please explain to me why you think that is acceptable behavior for the Supreme Commander of the Droid Army.”

“While the loss of the station is indeed a setback, my lord. It will not be for long,” Grievous said as he raised his open hand, cradling the hard drive. “Before the station was destroyed, I was able to access a Republic R2 unit and copy its files.”

Dooku used the Force to bring the hard drive to him. He stared at it quizzically, then looked back at Grievous.

“The R2 unit belonged to General Skywalker, and he had never erased its memory. This hard drive now contains Republic formations, strategies, ship and troop data, combat and convoy movements, and probably more.”

Dooku, still staring at Grievous, raised a singular eyebrow.

“Impressive, but do not think you are out of the woods yet. Valuable Information or not, a station lost is still a station lost,” he chastised. He looked at the hard drive for a moment, then looked back at Grievous. “I believe I will hold on to this for now. It may have coding that will alert the republic if looked at.”

Grievous grumbled, but Dooku had a point. “As you wish, my lord.”

Title: Notes and Records on General Grievous

Original Author: Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi

Access Level: Military

Editor Verification Required: Jedi High Council

Password: Agamemnon-4-2-1914

Entry Number: 2

Entry Summary: This entry will be an interview with Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker about what happened at Skytop Station on the second moon of Ruusan. He will also give the testimony of his Padawan, Ahsoka Tano, who will not be present for this interview.

This is Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. Please state your rank and name for the record.

Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker.

Can you state the events from the Battle of Bothawui to the destruction of Skytop Station?

General Grievous had just finished a campaign where he won the Separatists six victories in one month. And after you attended the Republic Strategy Conference, you believed that Grievous would strike Bothawui next.

Was that the first time you engaged the General?

No. I was the Jedi who led the assault on the Malevolence that disabled its ion cannon, and before Bothawui my fleet had engaged him four times, one over Falleen and the rest in open space.

Would you say that during these engagements you learned something about the General’s tactics?

If he has enough ships with him, he’s competent enough to go against even the best Republic generals. However, from what I saw, he prefers his engagements to be brief and brutal.

And how would you say you beat him at Bothawui?

I believed that in order to beat Grievous; I needed to hit him so hard that I knocked him off his feet. However, that required me to hold out until the last possible moment before I sprung my trap on him.

This is when he fled the battle, and you pursued him?

Yes, however, a piece of shrapnel hit my starfighter, and I spun out of control into Bothawui’s rings. I was mostly unharmed, but when I went to go search for my R2 unit, it was gone.

Do you know how your R2 unit was removed from your starfighter?

There was a Trandoshan salvager. He must have been the one who picked up R2-D2.

That is when you received the R3 unit spy?

Yes. Because of the loss of R2-D2, I was naturally resistant to using a new one. However, my Padawan Ahsoka kept insisting that I use it. It was almost like it needed to disobey every order given or only follow an order halfway through. This only intensified when we infiltrated the Skytop Station battlesphere.

How So?

When I split off from the group to find R2-D2, the R3 unit reinforced the already ray-shielded door that led to the Battlesphere’s reactor.

Interesting.

However, there was also something that I encountered when I found R2-D2. There were these four droids.

Could you describe them?

They were blue and gray, around six and a half feet tall. One had a cape, while the other three did not. They each wielded an electrostaff. Within seconds of engaging me, they analyzed my fighting style and adapted accordingly. I’ll admit that I had to use Force in a way that… was unbecoming of a Jedi.

Do you think these droids and Grievous are related?

I believe that if a well-trained Jedi were to face one of them alone, in time, they would defeat the droid. However, it’s not out of the question that those droids and Grievous were programmed to combat Jedi.

I guess that makes sense… so… Ahsoka…

After I split off from the group, she led Rex and the clones to the reactor. As I said before, the R3 unit reinforced the already ray-shielded door that led to the Battlesphere’s reactor. Then Grievous showed up… Ahsoka led him away from Rex and a surviving clone so they could do their job…

That was brave of her.

It was but… Grievous cornered her and… pressed her lightsaber up against her face, telling her he would come after me next. She only escaped once the charges went off.

That’s enough Anakin.

End of Entry

As soon as Grievous had left Dooku, he went to work. He scanned through the hard drive Grievous had retrieved. As he saw more and more of the Republic’s secrets, he came to a realization. If Grievous used this, the Republic would sue for peace on CIS terms within a year, which was something his Master would not accept.

As soon as his Master was available, he contacted him through a hologram.

“What is it, my apprentice?”

“My Master, it appears that our plan of releasing the General onto the Republic has worked too well. He has presented to me a hard drive containing a host of Republic data. If he were to use this data, the Republic would lose the war.”

His Master contemplated for a second, then spoke, “The war has not gone on long enough for me to acquire enough power, and the Republic is still relatively confident in winning the war. Grievous must not use this data.”

“There is also a manner in which he obtained this data. He copied the data from an Astromech named R2-D2, the Astromech owned by Skywalker.”

For a moment, his Master was silent.

“Perhaps it is time we test the General to see if he remembers his place in the Confederacy. The next time he steps out of line, be sure to let him know he can be disposed of if need be,” His Master said. The hologram soon cut and Dooku was left alone at his estate.

Yes, Perhaps Grievous did need to be reminded where his place was. When Dooku had the opportunity to test Grievous, he would. He then looked at the hard drive sitting at his desk. With a tightening of his fist, he crushed it. Sparks flew as the data that could have won the Confederacy the war, gone.

Chapter Text

After losing Skytop Station, Grievous learned that most of the Republic Astromech units involved with Operation Asteroid-Probe had been compromised. But it mattered not, Grievous was still riding high from his intelligence victory over the Republic. Now all he had to do was to keep the momentum going.

Since his fleet was still in Bothan Space, he wanted to make sure that the Confederacy’s control over it was secured. While the main world of Bothawui was still holding out for more favorable terms from the Confederacy, Grievous decided that he was going to force their hands.

He extended the pressure of Bothan Space to more than just Bothawui, with the two main points of pressure being placed on Moonus Mandel and Kothlis. While Moonus Mandel had a notable Podracing scene, Kothlis was a rather unremarkable planet as it was largely oceanic, with a few scattered islands for land.

Believing that the Bothans would capitulate to the Confederacy’s hands soon enough, Grievous let his fleet sit there while he went to see how different fronts of the war were doing. His trip took him around to the other side of the galaxy. By the end of his trip, he had made it all the way to the planet Mygeeto.

While he was in that area of space, Grievous decided that he was going to capture a planet to show the Republic that he was still in control after losing Skytop Station. So he set his sights on the nearby planet of JanFathal.

Since he was without his fleet, Grievous had to find a new one. After sending out the word that he needed ships, he was able to get his hands on fifteen Munificents and seven Recusants. He had each Recusant flanked by two Munificents, like he did with his fleet back in Bothan Space. He then had the groups of ships arranged like an arrow, with the last Munificent trailing behind and acting as his command post.

After gathering his ships, he set out to conquer another planet.

The sky was black, and the air was thick, and the humidity was unbearable.

But Hallena Devis wasn’t here to be comfortable. She was here because her job said so. She had become a member of the Galactic Republic’s Intelligence Service about a year before the Clone Wars started.

And right now, Hallena was doing what most members of the GRIS did, struggling to find anything of value.

Even with coming out near the bottom of her graduating class, Hallena was determined to find any information that could be used against the Separatists. Sadly, that was often easier said than done since JanFathal was so close to the Separatist stronghold of Mygeeto. Therefore, there was never a good opportunity for her to fly out into Separatist territory.

For a while, Hallena did not think things could get more precarious about her situation, which, of course, they did.

The Separatists had broken through the fleet protecting the planet with unparalleled speed, and the people of JanFathal had to take up arms, along with the clones stationed on the planet.

Hallena had never seen such unwanted destruction and violence on such a large scale before. Endless waves of droids mowed down clones and citizens alike with no hesitation. Their blasters were like the strings of a harp, the trigger would be pulled back and the blaster wound sound.

The Droids would march forward, lockstep with each other. It made a wall that was nearly impossible to push back. Whenever the droids were pushed back, more droids would take their place.

And where was she in all this? In her home, cowering. She was never one for violence, which was confounded by how JanFathal brutally suppressed any dissent. Anyone who dared speak out against the Republic was imprisoned without reason and never given a trial. Honestly, if she had her wits about her, if she survived the invasion, she very well may leave the Republic all together.

And so, she prayed, hoping that the Republic would force the Separatist back. Hallena knew she was a coward, but she was too scared to go out there and to do what was right.

After a while, the sounds of fighting died down. But still she didn’t move. She didn’t know who had won, but she was not brave enough to look out and check.

Then a knock came at her door.

“Citizen, this sector of the city is clear. It is safe to come out now.”

It was a clone, but its voice was too direct, and its grammar was dull and rough. She hugged her rifle a little more closely to her chest.

“Citizen, this sector of the city is clear. It is safe to come out now.”

It repeated what it had said. Something was off. Even if it was a clone, they would still advise citizens who took shelter to stay inside.

As she held her breath and slowly aimed her rifle at the door, she distinctly heard a soft sound. It came from the floor above and almost sounded like footfalls of children trying to sneak past their parent’s bedroom to raid the pantry. It was at this that she moved her aim to the floor above.

Suddenly, her front door burst open as a brown blur leaped at her. It tackled her to the ground, and she felt a sharp pain as an electric shock ran through her body. As her vision faded, she could barely register the sensation of her hands being cuffed.

As Hallena came too, she registered she was no longer in her house. As she attempted to right herself, she took in her surroundings and registered where she was. She was in a Separatist holding cell, On a Munificent if she was not mistaken.

Soon she heard noise from outside the cell. The door opened, revealing a tall, dark brown droid.

“You are coming with us, prisoner,” it commanded in a deep voice, much more commanding, much more respect than the voice of a B1. As she stood up slowly, the droid turned to the two B1s that accompanied it. “Take the prisoner to the interrogation room.” It then walked off as the two B1s pushed her out of her cell. As she was led down the corridors, the two B1s talked to each other.

“The General will surely be proud of this,” one said.

“Perhaps he will promote us like he did to NB-227,” said the other.

Hallena thought of that for a moment. They had probably captured her to draw out information. But then she focused on that phrase, “the General.” It was then she realized the true gravity of her situation. There was only one Separatist leader who went by that name to her knowledge, and as far as she was concerned, “the General” did not leave prisoners alive for long.

Hallena had heard how General Grievous’ name had spread across the galaxy like a virus, becoming a boogeyman of sorts.

If she wanted to live, she had to think fast.

“Wait,” she said, “according to the galactic law, all citizens of the Republic are required to be read their rights before interrogation begins.”

“Really?” asked one of the B1s.

“Wait…” the other one paused, “what law are you sighting?”

Curse her low score in her Legal Teachings class.

“The… Yavin Code…”

“Yavin Code?”

Hallena seized on their confusion and yanked on one of their blasters, shooting the two droids down. Now she just had to get off this ship.

As she made her way to the hangar, narrowly avoiding being seen by other battle droids, she saw an empty shuttle she could use to escape. However, her path was blocked by a few of the brown droids. As she hid where she was, she thought of an idea and waited for the right time.

She waited until there was only one of them next to the shuttle, then she made her move. She rushed over and shot the droid at the base of the neck. It went limp, falling to the floor. Knowing she only had moments to spare, she dragged it aboard the shuttle and closed the hatch. By now, other droids had noticed and fired on the shuttle.

She sat in the cockpit and started the engines flying out of the hangar. She quickly set the shuttle to hyperspace and prayed to the Force that she would make it. Fortunately, her prayers were answered as she jumped to hyperspace. She leaned back in her chair, sighing with relief.

As Hallena came out of hyperspace at the planet Orinda, she was startled that she did so right in front of a fleet of warships. Fortunately they were Republic. As she collected herself, a button on the dashboard lit up. Believing it to be the communication system, she pressed it.

“This is Captain Pellaeon. Please identify yourself.”

“This is Hellena Devis of the Galactic Republic’s Intelligence Service. I have come from the planet JanFathal. My serial number is 219.” After a few tense moments of her sitting there hoping she wouldn’t blow her to pieces, the voice returned.

“We have confirmed your serial number. Please make your way to the nearest Venator to dock your ship.”

After Hellena landed the shuttle in the hangar of the Venator, she turned around and tried to pick up the brown droid she had confiscated from the Separatists. Before she could, clones came to help her, which was sorely needed as soon collapsed from exhaustion.

When she came too, she was in the medical station being treated for her injuries. She was physically fine, but the check up was appreciated.

A knock came at the entrance and Hellena turned to see a sharply dressed captain with a perfectly trimmed mustache. He was human, but not a clone.

“I’m glad you’re better. You were dehydrated and sleep deprived when you arrived at the medical station,” he commented as he extended a hand. “Captain Pellaeon.”

As she reached out to shake his hand, he continued. “You helped us out quite a bit with your escape. We were ordered to send in a strike force to extract you.”

“Well, I guess I was going to escape or die trying,” she laughed nervously.

After she was given the go ahead to leave, Captain Pellaeon led her to where a group of clones were analyzing the droid.

“This droid has better armor than a standard B1. You hit it in one of the few vulnerable places on its body. But since you shot it at the base of the neck, most of what we could salvage was destroyed,” one of the clones said. “However, we have found a few things.”

The clone pulled a screen over so Hellena and the Captain could see.

“We worked out the unit identification of the droid, a BX-Series Droid Commando. But we really wanted to show you this,” he continued as he put a few commands into the datapad. The Commando’s eyes lit up and spoke.

“The Jedi Temple is located on Coruscant.”

Hellena felt her skin crawl as the exact voice she heard from outside her home on JanFathal rung in her ears again.

“This droid appears to be able to alter its vocabulator in order to imitate voices it hears.”

“Clever little clanker,” Pellaeon grunted.

As she went to bed, the information about what she had learned tormented her. The Separatists could now mimic the voices of clones to trick civilians. She tried to steer her mind away from the implications of that. However, she then thought about the Republic, how they went to great lengths to silence decent among their ranks.

If JanFathal was not so ironfisted with its people, perhaps the planet could have mustered a defense long enough for the reinforcements to arrive. But the planetary government was too concerned with supposed “Separatist sympathizers” to focus on a defense.

All the Separatists wanted was more representation in the government, right?

Hellena went to sleep that night, more and more disillusioned with the Republic.

The speed at which JanFathal fell surprised Grievous. Even though the Republic Intelligence Service member had escaped before any information could be striped from her mind, he was content. But he was not for long. His main fleet back in Bothan Space was in trouble.

The Bothan’s had held out in case the Republic made a push back into Bothan Space, which the Republic did in his absence. He raced down with the fleet he used to take JanFathal to meet what was left of his original fleet at the planet Kothlis. Fortunately, the Invisible Hand and Fortressa had survived.

After leaving Bothan Space, Grievous was not too worried about the Republic chasing him. He had nearly taken over that area and now the Republic would focus on keeping that area stable instead of sending ships away to fight him.

Now out of Bothan Space, Grievous received word that the Confederacy’s grip on Nexus Ortai was faltering. The Confederacy had captured the world while Grievous was traveling the galaxy inspecting the front lines in other fronts of the war. However, the Republic had nearly pushed the fleet out of the system.

However, the costs on both sides of the battle were so fierce that as soon as Grievous pulled his fleet out of hyperspace to assist, the Republic panicked and fled.

What made that victory even sweeter was that General Kenobi had led the Republic’s forces there.

After Nexus Ortai was secured, Grievous turned to the idea that kept coming back up.

Kamino.

Since before the Malevolence, Grievous had been wanting to invade what was easily the most important planet to the Republic just behind Coruscant. Doing so would immediately end the war, guaranteeing a Confederate victory. Now that he had his improved fleet, all he had to do was make a quick stop.

Grievous was heading for the Rishi Moon Outpost.

Obi-Wan looked out over the bridge of the Venator with contemplation. Grievous’ victory over him at Nexus Ortai still weighed heavily on his mind. Grievous had spent time on his personal fleet. The formation of his fleet was tighter and sharper than most Republic fleets.

Grievous had been last spotted in the Balmorra system, about two sectors away from Coruscant. According to the Senate, that was too close. Many fleets were moved to the Core Regions in the event of a possible attack. All personnel were expected to pull longer shifts as Grievous would strike without warning.

Speaking of longer shifts, Obi-Wan walked down the bridge to his former Padawan, who was going over information to try to predict where Grievous would strike.

“You’re still here Anakin? Maybe I can fill in for you while you get some rest.”

“I’ll rest after I find General Grievous.”

Obi-Wan sighed. Anakin had been like this since Skytop Station, since Ahsoka had her encounter with the General. Grievous had burned Ahsoka so badly that even after surgery, the best that could be done left her with a long white scar running down her face.

It was understandable that Anakin wanted retribution for what was done to his Padawan, but perhaps he was too focused on it. As he thought about that, Admiral Yularen approached them.

“Excuse me, General. We have an incoming transmission coming through from Commander Cody.”

Commander Cody was the clone that led the Two Hundred Twelfth Attack Battalion with Obi-Wan, just like how Anakin led Captain Rex with the Five Hundred First. Together, they had been tasked with performing routine inspections on the vital network of Republic tracking stations throughout the galaxy.

“General Kenobi, General Skywalker.”

“Cody,” Obi-Wan responded, “how are the inspections going?”

“The tracking station at Pastel is fully operational. Captain Rex and I are proceeding to the outpost in the Rishi system.”

“Good. Report back once you’ve arrived.”

“Copy that,” Cody responded as the transmission ended. Obi-Wan then turned back to his former Padawan.

“Get some rest Anakin. When General Grievous makes his move, we’ll know about it.”

Grievous stood on the Invisible Hand’s bridge. He had grown quite fond of the Dreadnought and had spent more time on her bridge than the Fortressa’s. Since the Invisible Hand was now at the head of his fleet, he felt it necessary to be there too, guiding his forces.

He looked out to see the moon where the Rishi Outpost was. All he had to do was to covertly take it over before any alarms were activated, and Grievous would have a free pass to head straight for Kamino.

But first he had to get droids on the ground and infiltrate the outpost without being detected. The way to go about that was quite interesting.

Meteors.

A common natural phenomenon for the moon was that of meteor showers. Any rogue hunk of rock in the area would find its way to the planet. After millions of years of meteor showers, the moon’s surface was peppered with craters.

The Republic had built the top of the line shielding to protect the outpost. The meteors also made it difficult for any attacking force to set up camp on the moon, as they would be wiped out if the shower hit them. It also did not help that below the moon’s surface were giant Rishi Eels, willing to take a bite out of anything.

So Grievous had devised a plan. He would fire off shots to imitate a meteor strike, among the false meteors would be escape pods with Commando Droids piloting them. They had proven effective during the Battle of JanFathal and would serve as the perfect droids to infiltrate the outpost.

“Launch our units,” he ordered. The shots fired gave off the brightness of any meteor shower, and would conceal its true nature. He watched them get smaller and smaller as they descended towards the outpost. After about half an hour of waiting, NB-227 turned to him.

“General, we have an incoming transmission from the outpost.”

The image of a Commando droid appeared as a hologram. “The outpost has been secured, General. We have dismantled the alarm system and hard-wired the all-clear signal.”

“Excellent. Keep the signal alive. The Republic must not find out about my plans.” With that, the transmission ended. He could afford to be slightly less direct to the Commando Droids than with standard B1s. However, his orders admitted a very key part of his plan. That he was all alone.

He had to go silent for a while to lose the tracts of any Republic informants; if any information about his whereabouts leaked, this operation would fail. He had been so secretive that he did not even inform Dooku.

Grievous was alone, but it did not matter. He was about to single handedly end this war, and that brought him a deep swelling sensation to his gut-sack.

Commander Cody sat in the secondary pilot seat of the Republic shuttle as Captain Rex sat in the primary pilot seat in front of him. As they neared the Rishi Moon Outpost, he got in contact with the outpost.

“Rishi Outpost, this is Commander Cody. Do you copy?”

No Response.

“Rishi Outpost, please respond.”

After a few seconds of silence, a crackled response came through.

“Sorry, Commander. A Rishi Eel tunneled its way through our communication wires. We have only recently gotten the communication systems back online.”

Cody figured that made sense, as the clone’s voice was much lower than any clone he had heard.

“This is the inspection team. We will be docking shortly to begin inspecting the outpost to ensure it is up to the Republic’s standards.”

After a pause that was slightly longer than it needed to be, the clone responded.

“Roger, Roger.”

As the transmission ended, there was a heavy silence between Cody and Rex.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Rex muttered.

“From what I saw on their records, Capitan, they’re mostly shinies. I led our last one, so go easy on them,” Cody Responded.

The term “shinies” was in reference to a clone’s armor. If a clone was fresh from Kamino, their armor was shiny, hence the name. As the shuttle landed on the landing platform, he and Rex did not see any clones on the landing platform waiting for them.

As they walked off the shuttle, it was too quiet. As they walked further, the door to the outpost opened and a singular clone appeared. Before the clone reached them, a fierce red light came from behind.

A droid attack flair!

Upon seeing the flare, they both turned back around and raised their blasters at the “clone”, who responded with the raising of his blaster. Rex fired first, hitting the “clone” square in the head. As it fell, its helmet rolled off, revealing the head of a Commando Droid.

Before they could react to that revelation, they were surrounded by a hail of blaster fire from other Commando Droids. Cornered behind some supply crates, they jumped off the platform. Just in time to, as several grenades that had been thrown by the droids detonated, causing an enormous explosion that took out their shuttle.

As they jumped, they shot out grappling hooks to hang on to the edge of the platform, out of sight. They safely rappelled down about a hundred-fifty feet down. Debris from the destroyed shuttle burned, casting shadows on the rock walls behind them.

“Well, that sure complicates things,” Rex turned to Cody.

“No worse than that time on Tibrin,” he responded to the Captain, trying to lighten the mood.

“We had Jedi with us on Tibrin,” Rex grunted. Before they could think of what to do next, the flames of the wreckage cast more shadows. The images of three “clones” drew close.

“Hands above your heads!” Captain Rex ordered, as they both raised their blasters. “Take your helmets off!” The three “clones” followed the first order, but hesitated to continue with the second.

“Take them off! Now!” The Captain ordered louder.

The three did as they were told, revealing that they were indeed clones. Everyone took in a sigh as the blasters were lowered. But then, the low rumbling from above, they looked up to see a Rishi Eel staring them down. He and Rex raised their blasters and fired. The eel shrieked as it tunneled away, leaving behind puddles of teal blood.

“Nice shots,” one of the clones commented as the Captain walked over to touch one of the puddles of teal blood.

“The name’s Rex. But you will call me ‘Captain’ or ‘Sir’.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” the three clones exclaimed as they stood to attention.

“I’m Commander Cody, your new boss,” Cody said as he introduced himself.

One of the clones stepped forward. “Designation is CT-5555, Sir.”

“We call him Fives,” another trooper said, “I’m Heavy.” Heavy then gestured to the last clone with a visor on his helmet, “this is Echo.”

“Where’s your Sargent?” Cody asked.

“Dead, Sir,” Echo responded, “we’re all that’s left.”

Rex walked forward, “Looks like we’re going to have to break in these ‘shinies’, Commander.” The Captain placed a hand on Fives’ chest, leaving a teal handprint from the blood of that Rishi Eel. “But ‘Shiny’ or not, we’ll take back that outpost.”

“But there’s so many of them,” Fives pointed out.

“Doesn’t look like we have much of a choice,” Cody responded. “As long as those clankers occupy this post, Kamino, our home, is at risk. We have to retake this base, so we will retake this base.”

Anakin paced back and forth in his room on the Venator. Rex and Cody had failed to check in at their designated time. But he and Obi-Wan couldn’t focus on that right now. Grievous could be anywhere preparing his next attack.

He sighed, sitting down. Perhaps his former Master was right. Anakin had hyper-focused on finding Grievous after Skytop Station, more so than at any other point in the war. It was as if he needed to find Grievous so he could…

Anakin took a deep breath, paused, then let it out as he went back to the bridge.

“Do it for her.”

Heavy never really liked this place. He wanted to be out on the front lines making a difference, not to be cramped up on some dingy outpost. Guess now was as good a time as ever to see some action.

He, Fives, and Echo had led the Captain and Commander back to the vent system they used to escape the captured outpost. They then crawled their way back through the vents to get back inside.

After blasting their way through the droids, an alarm beeped on one of the desks. Commander Cody walked over to look at it.

“A fleet is trying to contact us,” the Commander said. They all rushed to the window as Echo used his visors to zoom in on the fleet.

“It’s a Separatist fleet!”

“That’s why they commandeered the outpost,” Cody asserted. “They’re mounting a full-scale invasion!”

Rex turned to them, “We need to warn command.”

Heavy went down to one of the desks. After a few minutes of looking at the configurations, the droids set up, he looked back at the others. “Those clankers sabotaged our transmitter and they hard-wired the all-clear signal. It’ll take time to repair-”

“We don’t have time!” Rex all but shouted.

“General, the Republic outpost is still transmitting the all-clear signal, but our Commando Droids have not responded to our calls.”

Grievous shot a glance out over the bridge to the moon below. If the Republic learned of his whereabouts now, he would not have enough time to get to Kamino before they reinforced the planet’s defenses. Grievous needed the element of surprise now more than ever. He turned back to NB-227.

“We can leave nothing to chance. The outpost cannot alert the Republic that we’re coming. Send down reinforcements to investigate and see that there are not any clones left alive.”

“Look!” Heavy and the others looked at Echo as he was still monitoring the fleet. “They’re sending a C-9979 Landing Craft!”

Well Heavy, Fives turned to him, “you always said you wanted to be in the front lines.”

“We won’t be able to protect the outpost for long against an army of clankers,” said the Commander.

“Then we’ll destroy the Outpost instead.”

Everyone looked at Captain Rex.

“We have to warn the Republic about the invasion. They’ll take notice when the all-clear signal stops,” he explained. “When they stop receiving the signal, they’ll get the message that something’s wrong.”

Cody nodded. “We’ll need all the thermal detonators in this outpost.”

It would take more than detonators to blow this outpost up, Heavy thought. If they only had something more explosive, like…

“We can use the L.T.,” Heavy said to the others. “This moon freezes for over half the year. We use liquid Tibanna as fuel to heat the outpost.”

“Good,” The Captain Responded. “Bring the tank in here and prime the detonators.”

As they all went to work, they could hear the C-9979 land and the sound of droids marching at the front entrance. The Captain and Fives moved the thermal detonators and the L.T. tank into the command center. Heavy, Echo, and the Commander went to the entrance to buy them some time.

But they knew they wouldn’t hold the line for long. After Heavy mowed down another wave of clankers with his Z-6 Rotary Blaster Cannon, they ran back to the control center and closed the doors behind them.

“We’re almost ready,” Captain Rex said, “but the handset isn’t linking up with the detonator.”

Heavy could hear another wave of droids coming. It wouldn’t take them long to get through the door.

“I’ll take care of it,” he said as the others looked at him. “It’ll be fixed in no time. You guys get out of here.”

There was silence for a few seconds. The only sound that could be heard was the ever increasing volume of the droids marching in lockstep. The Captain sighed as he gave Heavy the handset.

“Just make it fast.”

Heavy watched as Rex, Cody, Echo, and Fives left through the vent. Heavy turned and went to work, trying to see why the handset wasn’t connecting. The sound of marching continued to grow. Despite his best efforts, the handset would not connect. He would have to set it off manually. He took his Rotary Cannon with him and went over to the vent, placing the grate over it.

As we moved, his com went off.

“Heavy, get out of there,” he heard the Captain order.

“The handset won’t connect. I’ll have to detonate it manually.”

“I don’t like your tone, Rookie.”

“I know what I have to do,” Heavy responded. He turned his com off so he could focus on finishing the mission. By now, droids had entered the outpost and were firing at him. He got nicked on the arm and leg, causing him to fall.

He crawled his way to the manual detonator and activated it.

Anakin was pacing back and forth on the bridge with Obi-Wan close by. He could feel that something wasn’t right. Rex and Cody would never take this long to go through an inspection, let alone confirm that they even made it to the outpost.

Grievous had also been a no show. The Republic was bracing for an impact that was not coming. Surely Grievous was planning to attack the Republic. If he didn’t, why would he be sighted so close to Coruscant? None of this made sense.

Anakin shook his head, thinking back to Ahsoka. She had barely spoken to anyone since Grievous scared her, let alone him. He wished he could go back and change that outcome. There had to be a way to-

“General Skywalker!”

Admiral Yularen was running up to him and Obi-Wan.

“The Rishi Moon Outpost’s all-clear signal has stopped transmitting!”

It all then clicked into place. Grievous’ sighting in the Core wasn’t him being sloppy about hiding. It was a diversion. Rex and Cody’s silence wasn’t on purpose. It was because they were busy fighting whatever forces Grievous was using to keep the all-clear signal alive.

“Grievous,” Anakin snarled.

“Sound the alarm,” Obi-Wan ordered. “Kamino is at risk.”

Grievous couldn’t believe what his eyes were seeing. The Rishi Moon Outpost was in flames. No… this couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be happening! He was so close to victory. With the outpost destroyed, the Republic would now know where he was heading.

“Full retreat! Now!”

As he said this, The Republic showed up. The size and swiftness of the Republic fleet took out a few of his ships before his fleet jumped to hyperspace. As they did, Grievous left the bridge in a fit of rage. His chance to defeat the Republic was within his grasp, and now it was gone.

Padmé sighed in defeat as she dragged her hands down her face. Today was probably the busiest day she ever had in her career as Senator of Naboo. When General Grievous was spotted two sectors away from Coruscant, everyone held their breath.

Republic forces were pulled from front lines to protect the Core. But to everyone’s shock, Grievous had used it as cover for an invasion of Kamino. If Coruscant was attacked, it would be devastating. But if Kamino was attacked while most forces were away to protect the Republic planets closer to the Capital, then Grievous would have stopped the production of clones.

Padmé was still vehemently opposed to the war, but she knew the importance of protecting planets that were essential to keep the Republic from falling to the hands of that monster. However, that thought led back to her day in the Senate.

The Senate was utterly horrified when they learned Kamino was so close to falling to Separatist hands. There was an immediate call to action. A bill was passed through concerning Republic outposts.

The bill stipulated that the frequency and strictness of maintenance checks were to be doubled. Outposts were also required to have a small fleet at the ready to give them time to signal the Republic. The bill passed unanimously. Even Padmé and her allies voted for it.

However, there was a second bill that was discussed, one that was rather divisive, one that was proposed directly from the chancellor himself. Palpatine proposed the Republic place a dead or alive bounty on the General’s head.

Despite her willingness to support the first bill, Padmé was adamant that the Republic shouldn’t turn to the underworld as an ally, even if it meant the end of Grievous’ terror. To her shock, many others voiced her concerns as well. Senators that Padmé would consider the most diehard supporters of Palpatine and the war effort were objecting to the use of bounty hunters.

In the end, the supporters of the bill won out, with a fifty-four percent majority over the dissenting forty-six.

Padmé sighed again as she reached and poured another generous glass of white wine. Padmé wouldn’t call herself an avid drinker. Some weeks she would go without a single drop of alcohol. But after days like these, she could drink more than she normally would over the course of a month.

As she lifted the glass to her mouth, she felt it being pulled away from her.

After Anakin and Obi-Wan assessed the situation at the Rishi Moon Outpost, or what was left of it, they came back to Coruscant. Anakin had told her that the two clones that survived, named Fives and Echo, were enlisted into the Five Hundred First.

“I think you’ve had enough.”

“Don’t you mean haven’t had enough?” Padmé moaned as she tried to retrieve her glass of wine. Another thing about Padmé when it came to alcohol was that if she poured a drink, then she was damn sure she was going to finish it.

“Okay,” her husband chided. “Now I know you’ve had too much, Senator.”

“Oh, under whose authority have I been demoted to just a Senator?”

“Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker. And to answer your first question, it’s because you will be heading to Rodia tomorrow, remember?”

Oh. Right. She remembered now.

“Fine,” Padmé groaned. As she flopped on her side of the couch. As her consciousness waned, she felt the vague sensations of Anakin lifting her up, taking her to her bed, and tucking her in.

Count Dooku looked out the window of his estate. He could not be more disappointed with Grievous at this moment.

The General had attempted to take Kamino, first by covertly taking over the Rishi Moon Outpost, then secretly moving on Kamino unopposed. If he had succeeded and in doing so, he would have been surprised. But he had failed, and all of this happened with Grievous telling him.

When Grievous first proposed the idea, Dooku had never outright shot the idea down. Privately, he knew Sideous would never have allowed it to happen if he knew about it. His Master had not gained enough power to allow it.

This was why Dooku forced Grievous to serve on the Malevolence. It gave him a reason to keep Grievous from attacking Kamino, and when it was destroyed, it gave him a reason to strip his fleet away from Grievous.

Initially after the Malevolence’s destruction, Grievous was preoccupied with making up for his apparent failure. However, when Dooku learned of what Grievous had gained from Skywalker’s Astromech, he became concerned that Grievous was too successful as a General. Now his failed attack on Kamino only proved it.

Dooku needed to put Grievous in his place before it was too late. Fortunately for him, he did not have to wait long for a way to do so.

Dooku had also learned that the Viceroy of the Trade-Federation, Nute Gunray, had been brought into Republic custody on Rodia by Padmé Amidala, and was being transferred to Coruscant at that very moment. This could not be allowed to happen. But as Dooku stood there, an idea sprouted.

He had already informed Ventress of the situation and that she was to break him out of custody. The Republic would have surely placed a tracking beacon in his tacky robes, and given that this was Nute Gunray, he would likely not know they were there.

So once Gunray was out of custody, he would be brought here. Dooku would take the beacon and send it to Grievous’ fortress on Vassek III. Dooku would also ensure that his home’s defenses would be lowered so that whoever the Republic sent, likely a group of Jedi, could prepare themselves for Grievous.

Yes, the next time when Grievous went back to Vassek III, he would have a nasty surprise waiting for him.

Chapter Text

Kit Fisto sat in his Delta-7B as it traveled through hyperspace. The ship itself did not have a hyperdrive, but when attached to a hyperspace ring, it could then make the jump. As he sat there, he began to ruminate on the situation the Republic was in.

War is never as it seems; one moment it appeared that you were about to be handed a huge success, the next moment you were eating those very words.

Nute Gunray, Viceroy of the Trade-Federation, had been brought into Republic custody. He was being escorted to Coruscant to stand trial when the Separatists launched an attack on the escort fleet to free him. Count Dooku’s assassin, Asajj Ventress, boarded the ship Gunray was on and fought Luminara Unduli before escaping with the Viceroy.

However, it would only be a minor setback for the Republic. Luminara’s Padawan, Barriss Offee, had the foresight to place a hidden tracker in the Viceroy’s robes. With that, the Republic had tracked his movement to the remote third moon of Vassek.

After the confirmation that Ventress was no longer with Nute Gunray, a small clone strike team led by Commander Fil was assembled to recapture the Viceroy so he could stand trial.

As his starfighter slowed down as it jumped out of hyperspace at Vassek III, the Astromech in his starfighter beeped to him.

“I know we’re in the middle of nowhere, Arsix,” The Nautolan chuckled, “but that’s the Republic beacon we’re looking for.

Kit Fisto had reason to be in a cheery mood. His Padawan Nahdar Vebb had finally been elevated to the rank of Knight after years of hard training. After the start of the war, Kit Fisto had only seen his Padawan a handful of times, and sadly could not be there in person to see his training to the end. But after the requirement of the Trials was lifted, they could now fight alongside one another as equals.

That was the other thing that brought him into a good mood. He and his former Padawan would apprehend Nute Gunray together. Nahdar Vebb was already on the moon’s surface with the clone strike team, and this would be the first time he would see his former Padawan as a knight.

“Contact Outer Rim Command that I have arrived at Vassek III Arsix.”

As the Astromech did that, he detached his Delta-7B from its hyperspace ring and flew down to the moon’s surface. As he descended, he received a message from the surface, probably from where the rendezvous point was.

Vassek III, from all angles, was a dull piece of gray rock. The sky was gray, the ground was gray, and everything was shrouded in a thick layer of fog, which made everything more gray.

As he landed, Arsix beeped.

“I know I can’t see anything either,” Kit Fisto said as he got out of his cockpit. “You’ll be fine Arsix, just keep a lookout for me, okay?”

As he walked from his starfighter, he tapped into the force to guide him. He knew the clones and Nahdar had heard him descend, but in this fog, it would be a challenge for anyone to know where he landed.

As he walked further, a bit of the fog lifted for a brief moment. A clear space was revealed where he could see Commander Fil and his clones conversing with his former Padawan in front of their Republic shuttle.

“Congratulations Nahdar, I’m sorry the war prevented me from seeing your training through to the end.”

His former Padawan turned to him, uncovered his head from under his hood, and bowed in reverence.

“You were missed, Master, but it is an honor to finally serve beside you as a Knight.”

After pleasantries were exchanged, Commander Fil stepped forward.

“General, we’ve pinpointed the tracking beacon’s location to the south end of the gorge. Our scanners indicate that there is a complex housed there with at least a dozen droids guarding it.”

“Well then, let’s not keep the Viceroy waiting,” the Nautolan chuckled.

“Yes Sir.” Fil answered before turning to two of his men, “Niner, Bel, look after the ship.”

After traveling some distance, they arrived at the entrance of the complex. It was a large triangular-shaped door that appeared to be embedded in the stone surroundings, almost like it was trying to hide from them.

Kit Fisto craned his neck back to take in the whole door. He walked up and placed a hand on the door. “Impressive.”

“We specialize in making entrances, General.” Commander Fil commented.

“That door is too thick for detonators to break through,” Nahdar argued as he pulled out his lightsaber. “Besides, this will make less noise.”

“Patience, the both of you.” He chastised. “A second look usually pays off.”

He tapped into the Force, sensing the door. Yes, it was too thick and heavy for a hole to be made by either detonators or lightsabers. However, he noticed something else. He could sense the tiny mechanisms that would open the door. His hand moved down to the right, where the mechanisms were closest to the door, and he pushed.

It took some effort, but the stone slab was pushed in, causing the doors to open. As they entered, they looked around.

“This looks like a hangar of some kind,” one of Commander Fil’s men stated.

As they exited the hangar, the light from the open door weakened and there was only a dim light coming from the ceiling mounted lights. The clones turned on the lights on their helmets as Kit Fisto and Nahdar ignited their lightsabers.

The hallway seemed endless. There were countless paths branching off from the one they were using, and their journey took them through many turns.

“Do you guys smell that, one of Commander Fil’s men asked.

“Whatever it is,” Fil responded, “it is definitely not droids.”

The Nautolan closed his eyes. Yes, there was a smell. It wasn’t overpowering, but it was strong enough that you couldn't get away from it.

“I sense there’s something here.”

“Aside from the droids, our scanners didn’t report anything,” Fil said. But as if on cue, there was a noise.

It was a sharp and sudden hiss. It sounded like a valve of a pipe releasing excess pressure, but the way it reverberated through the halls gave off a more eerie and sinister feeling.

Kit Fisto, Nahdar, Fil, and his three men all looked around, trying to pinpoint the direction of the sound’s origin. After a moment, they collected themselves and moved on. Eventually they arrived at a staircase leading to a small circular opening, the sound of chattering battle droids.

“What is it crying about this time? We just fed it?” One B1 asked.

“It hasn’t touched its food.” reported another.

“Are you sure you gave it water?” The previous one asked.

“Yes, I will check again to make sure-” its voice was cut short as they rushed up, cutting through the battle droids. A few seconds later, a dozen B1s lay on the ground. However, there was something Kit Fisto noticed. More than half of them were destroyed by Nahdar.

The speed at which he dispatched the droids lacked any restraint a Knight should have when wielding their power.

“I didn’t forget to teach you restraint, did I?”

“I’m sorry, Master. I got carried away.”

The opening broke off into multiple paths, but before they could decide which one to take, a sound rang through their ears. The source came from the corner of the ceiling. After a few moments, a voice came through.

“Welcome Jedi, however I must apologize for the inconvenience. You will not find the Viceroy here.”

Kit Fisto knew that voice. It was a voice that had a bad habit of sully fonder memories.

Count Dooku.

“While it is a shame, you have come so far to be met with only frustration,” the former Jedi continued. “Allow me to offer you a consolation prize for your effort.”

As the Count’s voice faded, all but one of the pathways was sealed off by doors, leaving one path left.

“This has got to be a trap,” Commander Fil commented.

“But to what end?” Kit Fisto asked. “We had no record of a Separatist hideout in this system, so why expose it now?”

“Perhaps we should investigate,” Nahdar answered his former Master.

As they continued down their chosen path, the stench they smelled earlier had gotten stronger. It had gotten so bad that at a few points, Fil’s men had to remove their helmets to heave up their stomach contents before continuing.

Finally, as they neared the end of the corridor, they entered another room. The first thing that everyone was drawn to was the back wall. Adorned on it was a mask. It had clearly seen better days, as a break in the mask threatened to snap it in two. But the details of the mask were striking. It was made of bone, with the bottom giving the appearance of having teeth. There were faded lines of paint that gave a rather tribal look to it.

As Kit Fisto looked at it, his breath caught in his throat as he saw the eyes. The holes of the mask where the eyes would be had distinct shapes to them. There was only one being in the galaxy who wore a mask like that.

“This is the lair of General Grievous!”

The response to that realization was swift, everyone back to back, looking in every direction. After a few minutes of tense waiting, they slowly lowered their guard as they entered the now mausoleum-like room.

As they did, the horror of the mood got worse. There were display cases of lightsabers, showing off the victories the General had won. But that wasn’t the worst of it. On a wall is an illuminated rectangle.

Hanging from the display were the braids of Padawans.

At least ten.

A Padawan’s braid was very important to a Jedi. If the Jedi did not have hair, the braid was substituted with silka beads. The braid was only removed once the Padawan was elevated to the rank of Knight, but having an enemy remove it was seen as barbaric.

Ten of which were no doubt from the ten younglings from Bakura. They were on Bakura with two Jedi before Grievous invaded the planet. The Order was beginning to fear the worst, but this was beyond that.

“There are so many,” Kit Fisto heard his former Padawan curse.

He looked closer at the numerous lightsaber displays. They not only displayed the lightsaber but also where the Jedi was slain. Some even had the names of the Jedi he took them from, like Ki-Adi-Mundi’s from Hypori.

“It doesn’t make sense, why would Count Dooku expose the hideout of his best general?” Commander Fil asked out loud.

He thought about that. Yes, strategically it did not make sense. But if Grievous had disappointed the Count, perhaps Dooku wanted him to be tested. It wasn’t uncommon for Jedi to test their Padawans after they had failed, but never to this extreme.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Kit Fisto saw something. It was a lightsaber display case. Its description stated that it was acquired on Geonosis, but that wasn’t all that drew him in. The lightsaber was uniformly thick for most of the hilt, before reducing in circumference near the top where the blade would activate.

“This is Master Ur-Sema Du’s blade.” He said. As everyone looked at him, he continued. “She was labeled Missing in Action after the Battle of Geonosis. That means Grievous is around four months older than we presumably thought.”

Then Commander Fil’s com went off.

“Niner, Bel, what is it?”

“General Fisto’s droid is tracking an incoming ship. It matches the description of General Grievous’ fighter. It’s heading our way.”

“Stay out of sight and stand by for further orders.” Fil commanded.

“Capturing Grievous could turn the tide of the war.” Nahdar said, with a bit of hope mixed in.

“We can not underestimate him,” Kit Fisto responded. “Grievous has taken down many Jedi at once. We’ll need a plan.”

Grievous jumped out of hyperspace over Vassek III, still in a foul mood after his failure to take Kamino.

He was so close to winning the war. He had needlessly complicated the plan of taking the Rishi Moon Outpost by infiltrating it. He should have just found a way to keep the all-clear signal going from his fleet while he blew up the station. Sure, he would have the Republic on his trail and may have lost Kamino, but the loss of cloning technology on Kamino would balance that out.

But Grievous had another thing to be bitter about.

Dooku.

He had reprimanded Grievous for his failure to take Kamino, but there was something else said in their confrontation that the General could not get over.

“General, your ongoing pattern of wins and losses in the war has become unacceptable. There is concern you have lost your focus. Lord Sidious demands more dramatic results.”

That really rubbed Grievous the wrong way. He could easily defeat the Jedi if the Confederate Council wasn’t so tightfisted with money. An example being the battle droids.

If Grievous had his way, the B1s would be taken out of combat and serve in non-combatant roles, like on a starship. The B2s would become the new standard battle droid and the Commando Droids would serve as the new “B2s ”. Then his MagnaGuards would serve as the elite commando units of the Confederacy.

But apparently, Dooku was content in settling for less.

“You expect victory over the Jedi and Republic, yet all you give me to fight them is battle droids.”

After that confrontation, he took Soulless One and left for Vassek III to lay out a new plan of attack.

As he landed Soulless One in the hangar, something didn’t seem right. There were no battle droids milling about doing work. As he walked out of the hangar and into the sprawling corridors, he saw no sign of his guards who would walk him back to the main command room. Neither was Gor, would come up to him and lie down to be petted every time he returned home.

“Guards? Gor?” Grievous called out. “Where are you?”

He then stopped. It was then that he realized something. There was no noise to be heard, no noise of Gor, nor his guards, just the silence that came when something was terribly wrong. Grievous tuned his audio receptors on maximum sensitivity, standing there for a good few minutes, slowly turning around a few times.

He heard a distinct sound from his side, one he was intimately familiar with, the sound of a lightsaber. Instantly, he reached for a blade. His blue blade connected with the green blade of the Jedi.

With every sound in the area being picked up by his audio receptors, he didn’t miss the sound of another lightsaber igniting. He pulled out another blade, its green blade blocking the blue blade of the other Jedi.

He only had those two lightsabers with him. If a third Jedi came out, he would not have anything to deal with the new threat.

As he wildly swung at the Jedi, he recognized one of them as General Fisto, the other was a Mon Calamari. In the chaos and whirring of his blades, he saw the mouth of Kit Fisto move, but he couldn’t make out what he said. It didn’t matter, as he found out soon enough. Cables from the clone’s blasters shot out and latched on to his upper legs.

Grievous groaned as he felt his legs strain against this new punishment. Desperately, he tried to lower his feral swings in an attempt to cut himself free, but the Jedi’s blades blocked his attempts.

It was then that he felt it, a clean slash from Kit Fisto, right above his knees. Dead metal moaned against him as he slumped to the floor, still attached to the clone’s wiring.

Using his powerful arms, he leaped for the ceiling. Even though each hand had to use a thumb and finger to hold on to his blades, the three other fingers provided enough strength to latch on. But it didn’t last, as a sharp tug from the clones sent him falling to the floor.

As he fell to the floor, his head hit the ground. Hard. Hard enough that he heard a sharp cracking sound. Pain surged through him as his mask had been damaged.

Like a fish on the end of an angler’s hook, his crawl away took a great effort. The Mon Calamari ran up to him, but Grievous had enough time to raise a blade to block his attack.

“Don’t make me destroy you,” the Jedi growled.

Funny.

He spun his wrist, throwing the Jedi off balance. Still spinning, he moved his wrist back to cut himself free.

He turned around, looking at the two Jedi and four clones. He leaped forward. The Jedi moved in time, but the clones were not so lucky. He barreled past them as he crawled away into the darkness, his cape hiding the fact he had no legs.

After some quick turns and hiding behind corners, he lost them. Now able to freely move, he reattached his lightsabers to his waist and jumped up to grapple to the ceiling. He then swung his way through the catacombs to not make noise and attract attention.

He made it to the main command room. He remotely opened it and swung his way in.

“Doctor, where are you?”

“Don’t be upset with me, master,” his doctor sneered. “If you were half the fighter you boasted yourself to be, we would not be having this conversation.”

Grievous held in a snarl as he used one of his arms to free him of his cape.

“Look what you let them do to you. You’re a walking scrap pile,” his doctor bemoaned. “What a mess. It’s going to take me forever to get you back into decent shape. I’ll go fetch your spare parts.”

As his doctor walked away, Grievous followed, still hanging from the ceiling. As he did, he saw his MagnaGuards were at their charging stations. Now Grievous knew something was up.

Before leaving, he would always ensure that his guards had a full charge. If he was gone longer than expected, they would go in shifts to charge themselves back up, but never all at once.

Then he remembered his last conversation with Dooku. The Count had been miffed, but showed some level of restraint. Failing to take an important planet like Kamino should have elicited more of a response, yet it didn’t.

Because this was his punishment.

Now he knew why. Dooku couldn’t tear Grievous apart because that was what the Jedi would do when he got back to his fortress.

Fine Dooku. I’ll play your little game.

Grievous activated his MagnaGuards with the push of a button.

“There are two Jedi and four clones in the fortress. Four of you, stand post here. The other four go through the back and circle round to the entrance. Destroy any means of escape they have.”

Grievous turned around and swung to the command room’s desk. He dropped down onto the chair in front of it. Finally, his arms no longer needed to hold up his bulk. But he couldn’t rest yet. He brought up the security camera feed and saw the group of infiltrators.

He looked at them, noting that two of the clones were on the ground, motionless. Dead from his impact into them.

The Mon Calamari Jedi knelt down beside one of the dead clones.

“Let me go after Grievous myself, Master.”

“Patience, Nahdar. You may no longer be a Padawan, but we are in no position to fight Grievous now that he knows we are coming.”

Oh, so this Jedi was Kit Fisto’s former student. Interesting.

“We need to get out of here and call for reinforcements.”

Yeah, about that.

Grievous hit a few commands, and the exit was sealed off, trapping them inside. He then received word from a MagnaGuard that they had destroyed a Republic shuttle and that an Astromech piloted a Delta-7B and retreated.

Good, now there was no way for them to retreat. He was in charge of the situation now, not them. He hit a button to activate the intercom of the base.

“I’m afraid you won’t be leaving anytime soon, Republic scum.”

He saw Kit Fisto look directly at the security camera.

“Why don’t you show us some of that Separatist hospitality General? If you cooperate, I could perhaps convince the Senate to be merciful.”

“No, I don’t think I’ll do that.” Grievous chuckled. “But while I’m getting myself repaired, please make yourselves comfortable. It has been prepared for uninvited guests, like you.”

He ended the intercom there and flipped the security camera feed over to Gor. He had been locked away in his pen. Grievous opened the door so that his guard dog could do his job, and feast on some fresh meat.

“Time to provide some entertainment for our guests, Gor,” he said before his chair started moving back on the rail it was set up on.

“Master, the armor patches are getting cold,” his doctor said. “And contrary to your belief, I do have other things to do.”

Grievous groaned, as he would not see Gor hunt for his prey, but his doctor did have a point. It would take some time before his patches fully synced up with his body, so he might as well get it over with now.

His chair reached the end of its rail and reclined. Grievous’ chair was now a table for him to lie on why his doctor worked to repair him.

“You know, sometimes I wonder why you submitted to these changes.”

“Improvements!” Grievous exclaimed, almost as if it was coded in response to such a question. “I submit to no one. I chose this. Now get on with it.”

One of his doctor’s hands had a needle tip. It slipped past his chest plate.

“There may be some discomfort,” his doctor said as morphine was injected into him, giving a slight relief from his throbbing head.

Patient’s Name: Grievous

Patient’s Gender: Male

Patient’s Age: Exact Age Unknown ≈ 44 Standard Years

Patient’s Species: Exact Species Unknown (Reptilian)

Cause of Patient’s Injury (s): Attacked by Jedi and Republic Clones

List the Extent of Patient’s Injury (s): There are four grappling hooks embedded in the patient’s upper legs. Both of the patient’s legs have been amputated above the kneecaps. Visual observation shows that both legs were amputated with one clean slice at an angle. The amputation was made by a lightsaber due to the ends of the patient’s legs being soldered.

Severe damage has been done to the joints in the hips and waist. Damage indicates the joint is over extended, likely caused by being pulled by the grappling hooks. This same damage can be found in the shoulder, elbow, wrist, and finger joints of the patient.

Piece of the patient’s skull has broken off. The broken piece freely sits in place above the patient’s right Orbital. Damage indicates it was caused by blunt force trauma.

After the pain of the operation wore off to where Grievous could function again, he reverted the operation table back into a chair as its rail carried him back to the command room’s desk. As he looked through the security camera’s feed to find that another clone had died. Not by Gor, but from one of the many traps set up in the catacombs.

He then cycled through the feed to find Kit Fisto, the Mon Calamari Jedi who he recalled was named Nahdar, and the last remaining clone. They were circled back to back, with many openings surrounding them.

Grievous watched in anticipation, waiting for it to happen. Then suddenly, a blur flashed across the screen and the clone was gone. Through the security camera’s audio, and the sounds from beyond the main command room, he could hear the screams of pain from the clone.

On the feed, he saw the Mon Calamari chase after his pet. Before Kit Fisto could follow, Grievous hit a button, slamming a door between them. Now, with the Jedi isolated, he could join in the fight again. Grievous groaned as he got up from his chair.

“Master. Your repairs have not fully synced up to your nervous system. You need to rest-”

Grievous whipped around to face his doctor.

“I’ll rest when the Jedi are dead. Go to the security camera feed and remotely contact me about the whereabouts of the Jedi.”

Before leaving the main command room, he picked up his cape and put it around him. He also grabbed a DT-57 Heavy Blaster Pistol. The DT-57, nicknamed the “Annihilator”, was a heavier blaster than the E-5 used by B1s. Grievous had begun to hone his use with a Blaster during his down time and found that he was surprisingly accurate and precise when it came to shooting.

With his blaster clipped to his magnetic waist and the four MagnaGuards in the fortress by his side, he was more than protected from the Jedi. As he exited the main command room, he could hear Gor running, with the Jedi presumably not far behind. He and his guards followed the sounds.

Using his audio receptors, he told A4-D to try to separate Gor from the Jedi. After a few moments, he then heard one of the many doors in his fortress slam. Then was nearly run over by Gor, running by, clearly exhausted.

He turned back to the door that was closed.

“Open the door, Doctor.”

The door opened and the Mon Calamari stepped through.

“I am going to make you pay for what you’ve done, Grievous.”

“Oh, are you now?” Grievous chuckled. “We’ll see.”

His MagnaGuards circled around the arrogant Jedi, taking turns swinging and blocking.

Just like I trained them.

Each time the Jedi pushed too far with one of them, another would come from behind and jab their electrostaff into the Jedi’s back. Each time the Jedi growled in pain, slumping further and further to the floor before getting back up.

The Jedi raised his blade again, but Grievous rushed up and grabbed the Jedi’s hands, pinning him to a wall. Grievous then pulled his blaster out and fired.

Kit Fisto slumped to the floor. Nahdar had chased after the beast that took Commander Fil, but a door slammed behind him, preventing him from following his former Padawan. He tried to find another way around, but then he felt it. The Bond had been severed.

When a Jedi takes in a Padawan, a Bond is formed. Although there is no quantifiable measurement, it is believed that within a year the Bond is at full strength. But it is no ordinary bond. This Bond connects the two on a level deeper than any non-Jedi can imagine.

But if one of them were to die, the Bond would break and the other would feel a pain so great, it would bring even the strongest in the order to their knees. Even after the Padawan becomes a Knight, the bond between them lingers long after and never fully goes away.

Nahdar was dead, and Kit Fisto had just felt the Bond they had snapped at nearly full force. It was difficult to breathe, let alone think. But before he could drag himself deeper into a pit of misery, a sound came through his com.

It was Arsix. The Astromech had flown away after Grievous locked them in this tomb. Now he was asking where to pick him up. Kit Fisto sighed as he responded.

“Meet me at the South landing platform. I’ll be right there.”

Tapping into the Force, he sensed his way through the catacombs to where he and the other had entered. The door was flung open by the power of the Force. He moved across the hangar, and with great effort, cut through the hangar’s door.

Now outside, he made his way over to the South landing platform, waiting.

As he did, he thought about Nahdar. Throughout his years of training, ambition was at the forefront of the Mon Calamari’s mind. It had been the main reason the Council had hesitated to grant him the rank of Knight.

But after Grievous, everything changed.

He thought back to what he had said that day regarding Skywalker.

“But he is a cunning warrior, and our best pilot.”

Then he thought about what Master Rancisis said about Skywalker.

“To walk the path of the Jedi, one’s spirit must be strong. That requires discipline, and he has often disobeyed you, has he not, Master Kenobi?”

Despite this he, along with the rest of the Council, was willing to overlook Skywalker’s flaws to make him a Knight. The same was said for other Padawans who held their own in the war. The events of today were now seen in a new light. Nahdar believed that his rage against Grievous was righteous but was blinding him to danger, and that cost him his life.

Was Grievous such a threat that the Council was so terrified of that they would willingly send underprepared Jedi into battle just to die?

Kit Fisto heard a noise. He turned around and ignited his lightsaber just in time to block a blue blade from slicing through him. It was Nahdar’s blade, but it was wielded by a monster.

Knowing fear is what Grievous wanted, Kit Fisto centered his mind. He blocked and moved past each of Grievous’ strikes. Grievous used his other hand to fire at him with a blaster. The bolts ricocheted off his lightsaber.

He saw an opening and struck. Nahdar’s blade dropped, and he used the Force to bring it to his hand. With his and Nahdar’s blades, he stared down at Grievous.

“You might be a warrior, but you have become drunk off your own power,” he said, and after a few more blocks, he pushed Grievous to the ground with the Force. “That power will only consume you.”

Before he could deal the final blow, eight droids encircled him, each with an electrostaff. But before the fight could continue, he heard the sound of his Delta-7B. He ran to the edge and jumped, landing on his starfighter.

Arsix opened the cockpit for him as he got in. He closed the hatch and accelerated to top speed. Soon he was in space and he reached his hyperspace ring, and charted a course for Coruscant.

Grievous looked into the sky as General Fisto escaped. His hand, which had just been fixed by A4-D, was on the ground, and the lightsaber he just won was lost.

He turned around and his guards followed. Using his audio receptors, he contacted his doctor.

“Send word to my fleet that Operation Lifted-Fog is commencing. I want off this rock.”

Kit Fisto stood in the center of the Council Room. After he arrived on Coruscant, he rushed to the Jedi Temple, speaking into his com to hold an emergency session.

“It was a trap. They knew about the tracking beacon planted on Gunray. A message from Dooku told us as much. But he said that he was willing to give us a ‘consolation prize’ for our efforts. The facility we were in was the lair of General Grievous.”

The silence in the chamber was deafening as everyone was now giving him their full attention.

“He had a… trophy room… of sorts. He has been collecting the lightsabers of the Jedi he has killed. The oldest was Master Ur-Sema Du’s blade from Geonosis.”

“That means he has existed since before the war began.” Master Kenobi commented.

“But that’s not the worst part of it,” he continued. “For the Padawans… not only had their blades, but… he hung their Padawan braids on the wall.”

“Damn Barbarian!” Master Rancisis swore.

“Enraged by this and by the deaths of our clones, my former Padawan disobeyed my orders and tried to face Grievous’ power with his own. I felt his death through the Force.”

There was a silence in the chamber, deeper than it had ever been in a while. Grandmaster Yoda was the first to speak up.

“To answer power with power in this war, the Jedi way, this is not. A danger there is of losing who we are.”

“Grievous tried to kill me when I escaped. But I was able to defeat him, and I regained my Padawan’s blade.”

“You bested Grievous?” Master Windu asked him. “How?”

“When we first learned that he was coming, we set a trap. When me and Nahdar ambushed him, we locked with his lightsabers. The clones then shot grappling hooks at his legs to keep him from moving. I then cut below the lines so he was even more disabled. But even then, he escaped us. I assume he had a place to repair himself, as when I fought him after he had killed Nahdar, he had a new pair of legs.”

After Kit Fisto was finished with his story, Grandmaster Yoda spoke up.

“Know of his lair’s location. We do. But so too does Grievous. Capture him before he flees. We must.”

Obi-Wan stood on the bridge of his Venator, the Negotiator, as it and the rest of the Republic fleet jumped out of hyperspace above Vassek III. The total tonnage of the fleet was the coalition of five fleets. With him were Masters Ki-Adi-Mundi, Shaak Ti, Aayla Secura, and Kit Fisto.

The five of them were chosen by the Council to go to Vassek III because each had survived an encounter with the General. Kit Fisto was put in charge of the whole operation, as he was the only one to truly best the General in combat.

Starfighters escorted Republic Gunships down to the surface. After the five Jedi and numerous clones were at the landing site, Kit Fisto addressed Obi-Wan and the others.

“I have no doubt that you know how dangerous our target is, and I also have no doubt that Grievous is willing to underestimate us. Sync your com channels, if anyone catches any sign of Grievous or his guards, contact us and we will swarm on him.”

Yes, Grievous’ guards. Reports of special droids guarding high-ranking Separatist officials had been pouring in. They matched the descriptions of what Kit Fisto and Anakin had given. The Republic had also discovered what they were called MagnaGuards. They were usually spotted in pairs, but Kit Fisto’s account recalled eight. Obi-Wan speculated if they had a connection with the General.

“Mundi, Secura, search the perimeter. Kenobi and Shaak Ti, you’ll search his lair with me. Move out and stay on guard.”

The Process was long and arduous, but it needed to be. The many twists and turns of the catacombs needed to be mapped slowly. If any of Grievous’ traps were still active, they wanted to notice them before they sprung.

Along the way, they found the bodies of the clones and Nahdar. They were taken outside to be sent back to Coruscant.

One of the numerous dead ends they found was presumed to be where Grievous’ pet made its nest. Clones began conducting DNA tests to see if the species of the beast could be determined.

Then they made their way to the now empty trophy room. All the Generals’ stolen lightsabers and Padawan braids were gone, as well as the stands displaying them. It was now just another empty dead end, except for…

Using the Force, Obi-Wan carefully removed the mask Kit Fisto described. He then placed it in an evidence box so it could be studied further.

He and the Nautolan made their way to the main command room where Shaak Ti was.

“Most of the data from here has been scrubbed,” she said.

“He must have known we would come, and grabbed what he could and ran,” Obi-Wan commented.

“However, there are a few things left,” she said as she got up from the chair. After pushing a button, the chair moved back onto a rail. They followed it on its tract, seeing how it reclined to a flattened state at the end.

The three looked around the new area of the command room. The chair, which was more like a table now, sat under a large machine that was not dissimilar to a machine used to take x-rays. To the left, there was a machine shaped like a tube. It had tubes connected to it, and upon further examination, a thin residue of liquid was collected.

As they looked at the strange room they were in, Kit Fisto commented on what they were all thinking.

“Why would a droid need medical equipment?”

To say Grievous was livid with Dooku at the current moment was an understatement. Dooku had essentially given the Republic his base of operations, and sent a strike team to have him killed. What was worse was that Grievous knew he couldn’t call him out on it. Dooku’s silence on the matter all but directly challenged Grievous to call him out.

This was compounded by the fact that Dooku ordered that Grievous move his fleet’s headquarters to his home planet of Serenno for the time being. Grievous knew immediately that this was a power play, but there was nothing Grievous could do except grumble at it.

When Grievous was summoned to Dooku’s estate, he expected for Dooku to at the very least feign surprise that Grievous’ home was discovered. What he didn’t expect was Dooku giving him a mission.

Dooku told him that his master had discovered the location of an ancient Jedi temple on the planet Ledeve. In the Jedi temple, was an artifact that if used by the Jedi and Republic, would cost the Confederacy dearly. Dooku told him that his mission was to either retrieve the artifact, or to destroy it to prevent its use against the Confederacy.

Knowing that this would help the war effort, he agreed to complete the mission given to him. Before he traveled there, he was told by Dooku to only bring the Invisible Hand with him, as bringing his fleet would alert the Republic.

Ledeve was a lush jungle planet far into the reaches of the Outer Rim, bordering on the edges of Wild Space. The vegetation had yellow leaves, giving the planet an eerie glow to it. Before going to the planet’s surface, Grievous had the Invisible Hand scan for any Republic troops or Jedi on its surface.

After a quick scan, NB-227 came up to him.

“General, We have picked up a single T-6 Shuttle and two individuals. However, we are unable to pick up any other forces or the location of the Jedi temple.”

Grievous looked out the Bridge to the planet’s surface below.

After just testing Grievous back on Vassek III, he doubted that Dooku would trick him again this soon.

“I will go to the Planet’s surface under the cover of night. You will stand by and alert me if you pick up anything else.”

“Roger, roger.”

During the cover of night, he descended with Soulless One. He landed a great distance from the location of the two individuals, who he suspected were Jedi. under the moon, he moved silently through the night. By the dawn of the next day, he would have two new lightsabers to his collection.

In the late morning, he came upon the two Jedi. It appeared the master was a female, red-skinned Mikkian. Her padawan was a human male. Still hidden, he observed them eating, training, and meditating with one another. After they got up from their meditation, the Mikkian stilled, she knew he was there.

She told her student to flee as she raised her blue blade in defiance of his presence. He emerged from his cover, igniting two blades.

“Running won’t save him.”

Grievous rushed her, and to her credit she blocked the best she could. But Grievous was simply playing with his food. Between his escape from Vassek III and now, he had found time to improve his body once again. 

After locking lightsabers above her head, he split his arms in two, reached for his two other lightsabers, and unleashed hell. She was dead before she hit the ground, a look of horror frozen on her face.

After being bested by surprise on Vassek III, Grievous knew he had to find a way for that to never happen again. Then he realized that since his mechanical body was modular, he could simply add another pair of arms.

The process of fitting them into his design was challenging. For one, he had to redesign his hands. They now had six digits, so that when he detached his arms from each other, each hand had two fingers and a thumb. He also had to sacrifice being able to freely rotate his wrists three hundred and sixty degrees. But they were small prices to pay, now he could wield four lightsabers at once and prevent what happened on Vassek III from happening again.

As he picked up her lightsaber to a magnetic holster, he chased after the fleeing Padawan. He had also redesigned his legs so that they were bulkier, this allowed him to reach higher running speeds. He cut the padawan off before he reached the shuttle.

“Let’s see if you last longer than your master.”

He rushed the Jedi, killing him with one strike. As he picked up the blue lightsaber the Jedi dropped, he noticed a data attached to his belt. Pulling it off, he turned it on. The datapad showed a hologram of the Jedi temple, its coordinates, and his current coordinates. Attaching his six lightsabers to their magnetic holsters, he made his way to the temple’s location.

Grievous looked up at the temple. It was small, relatively speaking compared to the one on Coruscant. He separated his arms and scaled the walls. Like an insect that crawls up the side of a tree, he made it look easy.

As he made it to the top, he met with a hallway. As he walked down the dilapidated hall, there were statues of Jedi meant to honor their supposed glory. But Grievous looked at them with disgust.

Glory? What glory have they earned?

He slashed through the stone, dismembering the Jedi as the stone fell to the ground. As he continued to walk through the halls, the ground gave way. Without hesitation, Grievous fired a grappling hook that was installed in his arm to make it across.

The grappling hook was another addition made after Vassek III, but Grievous could not afford to lose concentration. The Bridge collapsing was not a result of age, but was a trap. As Grievous continued, he faced more traps, all intended to act as trials for anyone who ventured through the temple’s halls.

But these simple traps were just a weak distraction to Grievous, as his body was able to cheat death every time a trap was sprung. After proving his superiority over them, he finally made it to the end.

He entered a small open room that opened up to the sky. The chiseled rocks gave way to the rough side of a natural rock wall. In the far end of the room was a small opening from which water flowed out of, making a small waterfall.

Behind the veil of water, was a glowing orb. The orb was an almost cyan color, and its brightness forced Grievous to look away from it.

This was the artifact that would destroy the Confederacy? No matter, whatever this was, it would soon be his.

Grievous walked up to the waterfall, as he did, he could feel a sort of presence emitting from the orb, like a deep breath. Sticking his hand in, he felt… nothing? In fact, it appeared that the orb moved out of the way of his hand.

He pulled his hand out and examined it. His fingers moved when he commanded them to, so it could not have been a sensory error.

Now using both his hands, he tried to cup the orb into his hands, still he felt nothing. Then, Grievous separated his hands and shot all four of them into the waterfall, all of which missed the orb. He looked at the orb again, which appeared to be farther away than his hands could reach.

Enough of this Jedi trickery! Do they expect me to beg for their power? I have slaughtered their kin with their own weapons! They have no power!

Grievous launched himself into the waterfall to grab the orb and crossed the threshold.

As his eyes adjusted to his surroundings, Grievous wondered where he was. He appeared to be floating, but not like in water. He couldn’t hear, but wasn’t deaf. He couldn’t speak, but was not mute. He couldn’t think, but was not inept.

General Grievous

Have you come seeking knowledge? Power? Truth?

Grievous heard the voice echo through his psyche. He recognized the voice as feminine, it was the voice of a woman who’s beauty knew no bounds. It gave a comforting feeling like a warm ray of sunlight on a midsummer day. But Grievous brushed off that feeling like it was bothering him.

“I need nothing from the Jedi,” he scoffed. “I only seek their destruction.”

Destruction… Yes…

You are steeped in it.

This voice was much more masculine, and angry. His voice carried a wrath of someone who carried the ability to bring judgment upon those who have wronged others. He felt a sharp wind hit his gut-sack, causing it to shrivel up.

But then there came a third voice. This one was masculine as well, but it did not carry the same malice as the second voice. Nor did it carry the sweat undertones of the first voice. This voice was of an old soul who understood the need for the balance between the two other voices.

But you do not fully understand what has happened to bring you down this path.

You have yet to bring total destruction to yourself.

Grievous felt the individual components of his mechanical body fall apart, and he was…

He is…

Qymaen jai Sheelal.

Qymaen remembered everything.

He remembered the softness of his mother’s touch. The Stern lessons his father taught him. The sweet taste of Alu’ fruit. He remembered the times he and Bentilais would play in the river. The sound of Zipporah’s singing. The warmth of his Ronderu’s skin against his.

He also remembered the pain his mother went through to save him. The Sound of his father telling him to flee. The guilt after his Ronderu’s death. He remembered the terror the Huk brought to Kalee. The Republic and Jedi’s blind eye. The starvation his people went through.

But memories were not the only thing shown to him. He was shown things that had happened but were things he did not know.

He was shown that the people the Huk pleaded with to convince the Republic that the Kaleesh were monsters was the Trade-Federation. That an ion bomb that was planted on the Martyr to bring her down, and that it was part of Dooku and Sidious’ plan to permanently enslave him.

He was shown that Darth Sidious was in fact Chancellor Palpatine of the Galactic Republic. That he was manipulating both sides of the war to his benefit. That not only were the Separatists going to lose, but he was going to be the scapegoat for all of it.

All of this information bombarded Qymaen’s brain. As it was processed over and over again, a question had begun to form on his lips. Why?

“If you are able to show me all of this, then why now? Why did you choose to give me prophetic dreams for me to question instead of answer? Why did you give me these visions but not the power to save my mother, my father, my Ronderu, my people? Why do you only care to help me now after you stood by and watched as I was eviscerated and indoctrinated into becoming the monster I am now?”

Tears streamed down his face as his throat became ragged.

“The way I see it, I have become stronger because of your failure to help. I am far more than the hollow flesh you gave me, I have improved myself beyond measure. I now wield a power that makes even the Jedi tremble. Once I eradicate the existence of the Jedi, what will stop me from turning my blade to you?”

There was a silence after his words, one that gripped a hold of Qymaen and did not let go. The silence ended when the three voices spoke as one.

You seek to destroy a power you do not comprehend.

Your own connection to it has been carved away.

It has been replaced with parts whose strength you believe you understand.

But your understanding is not strength.

It is small. You are small. That is all you will ever be.

Grievous threw himself back, almost as if the orb behind the waterfall was about to attack him. After a brief moment of quick breaths, he examined himself, making sure that he was all in one piece. After confirming that he was there, he looked back at the orb.

He did not recall what had happened when he dunked his head under the waterfall, but evidently he did not like what he saw as rage boiled over. He grabbed four lightsabers and swung furiously at the orb to no avail.

He left the room at once and exited the temple. He reached for a com, which was just small enough to share a magnetic holster with a lightsaber.

“This is General Grievous to the Invisible Hand, I am sending you coordinates for an orbital bombardment.”

As he relayed the coordinates, he reached a cliff overlooking the Jedi temple that filled him with hatred and disgust. After a few moments of staring at it, he got a response from the Invisible Hand.

“We have locked on to the target, General Grievous. But a target of that size doesn’t require the magnitude of firepower that you-”

“You were made to obey orders. Not question them!”

After a few seconds of silence, the worthless pile of scraps called a B1 responded.

“We are ready for your command, General.”

Without hesitation, he gave the order to fire. Turbolaser fire descended to the surface and did not miss its mark. The temple became no more than a smoldering pile of rubble. Grievous stared at it for hours. Noon became afternoon, afternoon became evening, evening became dusk, dusk became night.

“For all the talk of power the Jedi have for their force. It will burn just as easily.”

Grievous turned to leave, not noticing either that the faint glow from the smoldering temple was still there, or the fact that a salty residue had formed under his eyes.

Dooku sat, sat and stared at the message Grievous had sent him. When Grievous came back from Ledeve, he immediately took his fleet and left. Not even coming to discuss what had happened, Grievous sent him a message.

It is destroyed.

Dooku knew that the anomaly in the Force could not be destroyed, but it confirmed that Grievous would not betray him or Sidious. His Master had a keen interest in artifacts of the Force, on both sides. He had ordered Dooku to send the General to Ledeve to test his resolve.

At the very least, Dooku was relieved that Grievous would not go against the programing of the microchips or his personal manipulation over him. But the way Grievous had told Dooku was what made him clench his fist.

The disgusting simplicity of the message irked Dooku to some degree, to the point that it bordered on insubordination. This only added to the fire of disdain Dooku had fueled over Grievous.

After the initial shock of how quickly Grievous mastered lightsaber combat, a sort of disdain for Grievous had begun to develop, most notably surrounding the General’s style of dueling.

Before Dooku left the Order, he was considered one of the best dualists out of all the Jedi. This was something that he took great pride in, but this made Dooku a perfectionist when it came to lightsaber combat.

He held strong opinions about people’s forms and stances in general, deeming most of them inferior to him. Dooku went so far as to say that Master Windu’s Vaapad was sloppy. Vaapad was a sort of adjustment to form seven Juyo, as many Jedi saw using it as leaning too far into the Dark Side.

Keeping that in mind, Dooku was able to identify three key reasons why he could not stand the way Grievous fought.

The first reason was that Grievous always fought with at least two blades. This wasn’t an issue that only Dooku saw, Jedi and Sith throughout galactic history would agree that the utilization of multiple blades was inferior to using only one.

In fact, Dooku would go so far as to say that wielding multiple lightsabers or a saberstaff was barbaric and cheap. It was a way for duelists of lesser quality to defeat an opponent without any required skill.

The second reason was that, despite betraying the Jedi Code, he believed in a fair fight. If Dooku fought someone, he planned to beat them by pure skill alone.

By comparison, Grievous would justify using any trick in the book to win. It was as if Grievous was trying to compensate for his lack of actual discipline as a dualist or connection in the force.

This led to the third reason, Grievous was merely a machine that could imitate what a true Jedi or Sith could achieve in a duel.

Dooku saw this as an affront to the almost sanctified way he viewed lightsaber combat. It was one of the reasons why his Master had to give him a direct order to train Grievous. He could not believe that a non-Force-sensitive was allowed to learn the sacred art of lightsaber combat.

These reasons discussed Dooku beyond reason. He had taught a mere droid how to slay Jedi, beings who spent their whole lives mastering lightsaber combat. And Grievous saw it as a challenge, a game even.

But then again, this was all by design. Grievous was created to be nothing more than a monster, a tool, a villain, and the fall guy of the Confederacy. Grievous’ only purpose was to scare the Republic so much that they would willingly run into the arms of a more controlling government. 

A government that would militarize to the point that any opposition to its authority would be stamped out. A government that would transform itself from a Republic to an Empire.

When the war would inevitably near its conclusion, Dooku would be “captured” and brought before the Senate to stand trial. His Master, acting as Chancellor Palpatine, would pull enough stings for him to get a comfortable sentence. Dooku would sit out the rest of the war in relative comfort and forsworn his allegiances to the Confederacy after he was “revealed of their atrocities.”

Dooku would cast himself as a victim, working his way through the command structure until he was second only to Sidious. While he worked to win favor, leadership and blame of the Confederacy would fall squarely upon Grievous’ shoulders.

Thus the unholy monstrosity of flesh and metal would be hunted down and destroyed.

Obi-Wan made his way to the Jedi Archives. He had recently returned from Vassek III along with the others. Since Grievous had evacuated the planet, there was barely anything of substance to collect. The only things they did find were a peculiar bone mask and the knowledge that he had medical equipment.

As he looked through the archives, the comment that Kit Fisto made rang in his ears.

“Why would a droid need medical equipment?”

“Are you looking for something in particular?”

Obi-Wan looked over at Jocasta Nu, the Jedi in charge of the Archives.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t know where to start,” he sighed. “I’ve just returned from Vassek III, where General Grievous’ lair was discovered. While we were there I, along with the other Jedi there, discovered that the General had medical equipment in one of the many rooms there. No one is quite sure what to make of it.”

Jocasta Nu pondered that information.

“Perhaps Grievous needed it for something.”

“That… doesn’t make sense, why would a droid need medical equipment?”

“Perhaps it was for someone else.”

Obi-Wan shuttered, he didn’t believe that the General would be above torture someone for information, but it was still an unsettling thought.

“Regardless, we still don’t know the purpose of the medical equipment.”

“If it helps, a dear friend of mine once told me that one sure mark of a fool is to dismiss anything unknown as impossible.”

Obi-Wan sighed, “I’ll take that into consideration.” 

“Well then,” she clasped her hands together as she looked around, “let’s see if there's anything that you are interested in looking at.”

The two began to look through the archives, Obi-Wan wanted to look at histories of droids in the galaxy, more specifically information surrounding deadly droids. He avoided sources from the last few decades so his information would be distanced from the recent rise in droid armies.

After checking out a few data tapes and holobooks, they went to the Holocron Vault. Despite their best efforts, there wasn’t a holocron specifically on droids. However, before they left the vault, one caught his eye.

“What about this one?” Kenobi pointed as Jocasta Nu picked it up.

“That’s Strange,” she hummed. “This one isn’t supposed to be here.”

“Why is that?”

“Well the first issue is its age. This holocron is nearly four thousand years old. The second issue is its identification code. This holocron should be in the restricted section of the Vault.”

Obi-Wan’s interest peaked at the second issue, the restricted section was reserved for the High Council.

“Would you mind if I took it off your hands?”

“Sure, just give it back to me when you’re done using it so I can put it back in the correct spot this time.”

Kenobi took his findings from the Archives and went back to his room. Unfortunately, there was precious little he could find regarding droids capable of doing anything close to what Grievous could do.

The only thing he could find was a small section about a Hunter-Killer Series Assassin Droid referred to as HK-47. It went as follows.

HK-47 was a Hunter-Killer Series Assassin Droid that was obtained by Darth Revan shortly after turning to the Darkside. Revan programmed HK-47 so that it could operate more efficiently. He also programmed it to kill Jedi, which it achieved to great success.

Kenobi sat back in his chair. He didn’t think programming a droid to kill Jedi would be impossibl e. All one would need to do was to program the droid to see Jedi as a threat. The real trouble was getting droids to successfully program a droid so that it could kill a Jedi.

Even so, there was only so much a droid could do before its programming hit a proverbial glass ceiling. Even the sophisticated T-Series Tactical Droid the Separatists used couldn’t comprehend an illogical action, or emotions, or collect trophies.

Grievous appeared to operate without that mindset. He not only used tactics to their fullest advantage, but also was able to perform tasks that a Tactical droid couldn’t. Grievous also appeared to be capable of emotion, enough to where Obi-Wan could sense it.

Obi-Wan then looked over to the holocron that he grabbed last minute.

It was worth a shot.

Obi-Wan activated the holocron. The machine sputtered to life, the shape of the cube morphing as the ancient gears within moved for the first time in who knows how long.

A recording started playing. The footage glitched, and for a moment, then it stabilized.

The recording was of a human male, most likely around his late twenties, however the man’s grizzled appearance aged him. While he was wearing the traditional Jedi garb, the color was certainly not traditional. His tunic was a dark gray, and his cloak was black.

Please state your name for the record.

Are we really going through this whole song and dance, Brianna?

Look… I don’t want to do this any more than you do… but this is just the standard procedure.

The man in the footage gave his interviewer a dry look, and briefly, Obi-Wan was reminded of Anakin.

Atton Rand.

Did you fight in the Mandolorian wars and the Jedi Civil War that followed, Atton?

Yeah. I followed Revan to fight against the Mandalorians… and followed him again when Revan declared war against the Jedi.

Obi-Wan felt his body freeze. Every Jedi knew about the Mandalorian Wars. It was a subject that was taught extensively to Padawans, to the point of redundancy. They were taught how the Council’s inaction in the Mandalorian Wars led to the creation of one of the most infamous Sith in recorded history, Darth Revan.

Darth Revan, whose original name was lost to history, watched how the Jedi Council did nothing as the worlds in the Outer Rim were slaughtered. How the Mandalorians attacked more and more Republic worlds, almost like they were trying to goad the Jedi into a fight.

And why was that?

How in-depth do you want me to go? Meetra, Bastila, and Mical have already said everything that needs to be said.

Just go into as much detail as you can, the more points of view on this subject, the better.

All of it?

Atton glanced back at the person interviewing him, Brianna. There was a glazed look that had formed in his eyes.

To Obi-Wan, Atton appeared uncertain, uncomfortable even, although he wasn’t entirely sure why. He wasn’t that familiar with Jedi Master Atton Rand’s background, considering the majority of the focus after the Jedi Civil War was placed on Grandmaster Meetra Surik and Master Bastila Shan.

What he did remember was that he was inducted into the Jedi Order as an adult, something that the Order no longer followed. As the older someone became, the harder it became to learn how to harness the power of the Force, and the more susceptible one was to falling to the Dark Side. An exception had been made for Anakin, but that was just it, an expectation.

Early on in the Mandalorian Wars, the Republic took hit after hit. Even after Serroco, Duro, and Eres III, the Jedi refused to intervene. They just sat back in their ivory tower of theirs and did nothing. So when Revan finally took command of the army, I and so many others followed him because it was the right thing to do.

So after the final battle at Malachor, why did so many stay with Revan? The war was over.

I don’t think the war ever ended for us, just a different stage. A different target for all that rage and righteous anger to be pointed at, and many turned to the Jedi who stayed neutral.

Did you ever feel like you were being manipulated into hating the Jedi?

No. it was more than just the Jedi and their lack of effort in the war. Everyone could place their blame on the Jedi for their brother’s death, or their sister’s, or their friends. It wasn’t hard. So when Sith teachings started to infiltrate their way through the ranks, no one questioned it.

Didn’t you find it suspicious that these teachings started after Malachor?

Like I said, no one questioned it. Our loyalty lay with Revan and the Jedi that followed him. We had no loyalty for the Republic, and certainly not the Jedi who stayed behind on Coruscant and Dantooine. So when the Jedi Civil War broke out… we knew who we were fighting.

How did you fight?

You already know my past, Brianna. Do I really need to give a play-by-play?” 

It’s for the future generations, so when they look back, they can see what went wrong and prevent something like this from happening again.

Atton paused once again as if he were struggling to force the words out.

I started to kill Jedi, lots of them. People think killing a Jedi is hard, it’s really not. You just have to be smart about it, and you certainly don’t need to be another Force user to do it. You can gas them, drug them, make them lose control, torture them, harm them in ways that they’ll end up begging for mercy.

How?

When you fight a Jedi, you want to wound the Padawan first, not the Master. Do that and then you let the rest take care of itself. Not only will the Master move to protect the student, but their Force bond will mess up the Master’s head better than any physical wound will. If there is no Padawan, start shooting at innocents, not to kill, but enough so that if the Jedi does not intervene, they will die. If a Jedi moves to use their lightsaber against you, start shooting as fast as possible. Set mines or fire gas grenades, but make sure they have magnetic lock targets sensors so Jedi can’t force push them back.

Atton covered his face with his hands. Obi-Wan felt frozen, he wanted to stop watching the footage but couldn’t. Why had he never heard this before? While he still wasn’t certain why Jedi Atton had joined the Order, he could have never imagined the possibility that one of the Jedi on the Council after the Jedi Civil War had been a Sith.

I taught myself techniques. It’s hard for other Force users to sense what you’re thinking if you throw up walls of strong emotions and feelings, like lust, impatience, or cowardice. Most Jedi don’t stop to see what lies below the surface.

A sardonic look formed on Atton’s face as a faint chuckle escaped from him.

Sometimes, Jedi wouldn’t even realize I was there until it was too late.

You… seem to take pride in your own work.

If it was any other profession, I could without shame.

If I’m correct, you weren’t the only one trained to assassinate Jedi?

Yes. The most crucial detail to understand was that Revan understood one thing: whoever had the most Jedi, the strongest Jedi, was going to win. So he created elite Sith assassination squads. Our duty was to capture enemy Jedi, to break them, and have them join us. And if we couldn’t convert them, we killed them.

It’s not your-

Don’t say that, Brianna. I may not be Revan. I may not have single-handedly killed every single Jedi. I may not have attracted the attention of a literal black-hole in the Force. But I certainly played my part and caused more than enough damage to the Jedi.

There was a long pause between the two in the recording.

What changed then? What made you decide you didn’t want to be an assassin anymore?

There was a woman, a Jedi. To this day, I still don’t know why she chose to save me. She told me that when we captured Jedi, they were sent to a place designed to break them. Anyone in Revan’s service who showed any ability with the Force was sent there as well. She told me the reason why I was so good at killing Jedi was because I had the Force, and when the Sith would find out, I would be sent there as well. I thought she was lying of course, but her statements had enough truth to them that it got my attention.

How so?

Troops in our ranks were vanishing. I knew what she meant, but I didn’t believe or want to believe her. So I hurt her… and enjoyed it. Right when I thought she couldn’t take anymore, she connected her mind to mine and showed me the Force. I felt everything she felt, and I heard just an echo of what the Force was, and what I was doing. She sacrificed herself to keep my secret, to prevent the Sith from knowing that small touch of the Force I had. She wasted her life to save me, a Sith assassin who loved to cause harm to Jedi. Before, when I killed Jedi, I never felt it. Afterwards, I couldn’t stop feeling everything around me, all the lives that I touched, and it scared me. I knew it was only a matter of time before my superiors found out what I was.

So you ran.

I ran all the way to Nar Shaddaa, with all the other displaced war veterans. I lost myself there until the Jedi Civil War came to an end. Ended up gambling a lot in my free time. Took on a job as a cargo shipper to Paragus, where I eventually met Meetra.

Atton paused, looked around, then he looked back at supposedly where Brianna was.

The thing about falling to the Dark Side is that you don’t realize it at first. You feel fine, great even. In your arrogance, you tell yourself that you can handle the power. It’s not until you are forced to look into a mirror, and see all your atrocities for what they were that you see the monster that you have become.

The footage became still as the recording ended. Obi-Wan sat still for many minutes, processing what he heard. He felt his stomach coil and churn at the information.

And yet, Obi-Wan felt like he had stumbled upon the answer to fight back against General Grievous.