"Good, Anakin. Now kill him!" said the captured Palpatine.
Dooku's eyes widened with shock and fear. He looked at the Chancellor to see him smiling then turned his gaze back up to Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, who now held the Count's life in his hands.
Anakin hesitated.
"I shouldn't."
"He's too dangerous to be kept alive. Kill him!"
Anakin sighed and deactivated the lightsabers, dropping Dooku's in front of the kneeling, handless old man.
"No. It's not the Jedi way."
Dooku stared off into space as Anakin freed his unconscious Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and the Chancellor. He felt dizzy and light-headed as the pain of his severed hands began to over-ride his senses. The floor suddenly rushed upon him, and all went black.
*********
Grievous, furious that the Jedi and Chancellor had escaped, made his way to the room that had not too long ago held Palpatine, and it was there that he found Count Dooku.
The Count lay motionless face down on the floor, his hands lay beside him, severed at the wrist, and his face was deathly pale.
For a moment the droid general thought he was dead, but further upon inspection, he found the former Sith Lord to only be unconscious. Putting the old man's lightsaber among the others he carried, he carefully gathered his mentor's body into his arms and carried him to the medical facility.
The medical droids went straight to work, getting the Count into a more stable condition, and then gave him metal replacement hands.
Grievous was glad Dooku was unconscious so he wouldn't feel the pain of the metal hands being attatched to what was left of his wrist, but he would mostly like feel the pain when he woke up.
**********
Grievous was right.
The first thing Dooku was aware of when he came to was the pain in his wrists. He moaned softly as he opened his eyes. He was in the medical facility of the Invisible Hand.
How did he get here?
Lifting his head, which felt like a lead weight, he looked at his wrists to see metal hands in place of his real ones that Skywalker had cut off during the last moments of their battle.
He sighed and let his head fall back onto the pillow.
Just then, the door opened, and a small medical droid came in, followed by General Grievous.
The medical droid rubbed some sort of ointment, like bacta, where the metal of his new hands met the flesh of his arm, releaving some of the pain, and then left.
Grievous waited until it was gone to speak.
"How are you feeling, my lord?"
"Better than before, general, and don't call me 'lord' anymore. That life is over. Now I'm just Count Dooku, not Darth Tyranus."
Grievous bowed his head.
"Of course, your grace."
"I'm guessing you're the one who found me."
It wasn't a question, but Grievous answered anyway.
"Yes. I brought you here."
There was brief pause. Then Dooku looked at the droid general.
"In doing so you mostly likely saved my life. Thank you,... my friend."
Grievous was surprised but didn't show it. Dooku had never called him his friend before! If he could have smiled he would have. Perhaps now he and Dooku could truly be friends.