The sound of mechanized stomps filled the air as the army of battle droids marched toward the village. The high-pitched wail of Separatist starfighters whirred overhead, and giant tanks rumbled along behind them. They marched on for nearly ten minutes. Then he raised his hand, and all movement on the ground stopped immediately.
General Grievous looked around him. Apart from the cities scattered around the planet, Dracoria was a rather dull-looking planet. The grassy plains looked yellow-brown, dying. The mountain range to the east was gray and low; the highest peak must have been about two hundred feet high, three hundred at most. Dust carried on the wind that stirred the dying grass, which produced a rattling rather than a brushing sound. Even the sky looked a sickly, dirty green-yellow. The only area of interest was the large city dead ahead. The city was obviously in disrepair. Dilapidated buildings soared into the sky, but no speeders were to be seen; this was no Coruscant. A few city dwellers ran across the streets. Grievous couldn't help thinking that they looked like insects in a colony at that distance. This was the city of Iskra, the capital of Dracoria. Count Dooku had ordered Grievous to secure the city-and, indeed, the entire planet-for the Separatists. Grievous understood that the Separatists were at this point losing many star systems to the Republic, and the Separatists needed more systems to even the score. But why Dracoria? Why this run-down, dystopian planetary system? Perhaps the buildings would be of some use as a base, he figured. Or perhaps the Republic simply didn't want it.
Grievous turned to a battle droid to his left. "Order your tanks to fire on my signal," he commanded.
"Yes, sir," the droid answered in a monotone. It turned and made a gesture with its mechanical hand, to which the droids near the back of the regiment responded with the same gesture, priming their tanks' weapons.
"Now, onward!" Grievous led his army across the plains, keeping his eyes on the large building in the center of the city, the building of the extinct Dracorian government. He was looking for the dangerous mercenaries that hid in the shadows. These thugs were known collectively as the Mortax. Grievous knew that the planet had once been governed under a constitutional monarchy. But it had been in anarchy for nearly ten years. Havoc-wreaking thugs said to run the streets of Dracoria had overthrown the government. Dooku recognized the Mortax as a threat to their operation, and so he had ordered Grievous to wipe out every last mercenary he could find. Grievous was almost surprised that his master had given him a task so easy.
The Separatist army marched toward the city, never stopping. As they approached, Grievous noticed the citizens scurrying around like small rodents, trying to find suitable hiding spaces. But they had no reason to worry-not most of them, anyway. Grievous had only been ordered to kill the Mortax mercenaries. He wouldn't waste his time killing civilians as long as they didn't get in the way.
They approached the main government building, which loomed above them like a shadow.
Grievous turned to the droids that manned the tanks. "On my signal...three...two...one...FIRE!"
Instantly large red blasts emanated from the tanks' cannons and blasted the front door of the building wide open. Grievous looked around. He had expected the mercenaries to fire on them immediately as they entered the city, but no fire came. He suspected that they were waiting for them, planning to take them by surprise. Someone must have informed the mercenaries of their arrival. But who?
"You five," Grievous ordered the super battle droids near him, "follow me into the building. Everyone else defend our position from the outside." He stormed into the building, the super battle droids following close behind, and found himself in a large room with marble tiles and pillars. It had to be at least twenty feet high. The sounds of their feet echoed across the room until Grievous ordered them to halt. For a moment everything was completely still. He listened, and sure enough he could hear the sound of footsteps from the other side of the room. Suddenly laser bolts shot across to them from that direction. Grievous instinctively ignited his lightsabers and charged at the mercenaries. Some were hiding behind the pillars, while others were running down a corridor at the back of the room. Grievous dashed up to one of the pillars, and before the mercenary could lift his weapon to fire, he sliced off his arms and impaled him through the chest. The mercenary's body fell to the ground with a thud. He deflected the laser blasts that flew in his direction and sent them flying back, killing several more mercs.
Grievous heard another mercenary shout, "Run! He's too powerful!" They all ran toward the back corridor, stopping every now and then for cover. Grievous figured he could take them. There were only five left, seven at most; the rest he had already killed. "Stay here," he ordered the droids. "I will deal with them myself."
He raced down the corridor, which turned left and led to a flight of steps. He ran down the staircase and into a longer corridor that was lined with torches. He stopped, listening. There was nothing to be heard but the flickering of the flames on the torches, and...crying? The sound was coming from somewhere to the left. Intrigued, Grievous followed the sound to a small doorway off the side of the hall. He looked both ways, making sure the mercs were not there, and peered into the doorway. A girl about ten years old was weeping in the corner. She was dressed in black, and Grievous's eyes widened in surprise as he saw the Kaleesh insignia on the back of her cloak. "Who are you?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"
The girl immediately stopped crying and whipped around to look at him, her mouth wide open in shock. She said nothing, but merely stood there in shock.
"Answer me!" Grievous exclaimed.
"I-I'm not with them!" the girl stammered. "The Mortax I mean! They're my enemies! I've been trying to fight them off, but-"
"Fight them off? You? With what?"
"With this," she replied, and she held out her weapon, a lightsaber with an engraved hilt.
"Where did you get that?" Grievous demanded. "And where did you get those clothes? You are not Kaleesh!"
"Half," the girl answered. "My father was Kaleesh." As she spoke, Grievous noticed her sharp teeth, which revealed at least some Kaleesh ancestry. The rest of her was completely Sha'Koran, a species that looked almost completely human save for the distinctive colored markings on the body. In the girl's case, the markings were purple, located just below her large, dark eyes.
"Who was your father?" he asked her.
And the girl replied, "His name was Koorvan. Koorvan Tirall."