WARNING: Star Wars fic written by a TransFan. Inaccuracies will be plentiful.

Disclaimer: I do not own General Grievous, no matter how often I lock him in my closet.

Chapter One: Agreements

Pain. Burning, fiery agony, coursing through what little remained of his physical form. He choked back a cry, knowing that no one here would care. Thick greenish fluid kept him hovering in limbo, not unlike the salt-heavy water of the sea he had been dragged out of. Had he been able to, he would have cried, remembering the shredded bodies of his proud elite warriors still lying in the wreckage of his shuttle. It had happened so suddenly, it was only now that he realized why the craft had failed him. A bomb, some small incendiary device set somewhere the scanners could not reach, had ruptured the fuel tanks and torn the sturdy vehicle into so many metal bits. Some how, he had survived, though mortally wounded and trapped within the wreck at the bottom of the shallow sea. Drifting in and out of consciousness, he remembered somebody dragging his mutilated body from the water, resuscitating him as he was placed on a stretcher. Now, he was here, suspended in a tank of healing bacta, a breathing apparatus fixed to what little remained of his face. He could see vague figures through the fluid, though he couldn't tell if his blurred vision was caused by the bacta or damage to his eyes. A tall, overly thin silhouette approached his prison, and a voice echoed through the thick liquid that surrounded him on all sides.

"How are you feeling, General Sheelal?"

That annoyingly arrogant, wheedling voice, a voice he had become quite familiar with over the past few months.

"San Hill?"

Oh Gods, it hurt to speak, spines of pain piercing his throat. He barely held back a whimper.
"None other, comrade."

"What are you doing here, muun?"
For a moment, the gaunt alien was silent, obviously disliking the almost-insult, but when Hill spoke again it was as if he had never uttered a word.

"As you have probably discovered, your shuttle was sabotaged to crash into the Jenuwaa Sea. Fortunately, one of our Federation vessels was in the area at the time, and the crew able to rescue you from the wreckage."

"My elite, my Izvoshra…"

"My apologies, general, you were the only survivor."

He felt as if his heart might break. One of his favorite sons had just been entered into the ranks of his elite soldiers. The knowledge that the youth was vanquished…

"My family?"

"They are well. I believe one of your sons just had his coming of age celebration not too long ago."

He knew which son the muun was referring to. Jahkeel, the third youngest of his five boys. The weeklong ceremony was to begin as he was shuttled to the front lines to battle the Huk. But if the ceremony had been completed, how long had been in the bacta tank?

"How long-?"

"About a week and a half. We had a hard time getting your vitals stable, touch and go there for a while. You were unconscious for most of the healing process, so it's logical that you might be a bit disoriented at the moment."

The muun watched with no small amount of pleasure as the wounded Kaleesh nodded, accepting the lies. In truth, the general had been suspended in the bacta for over a month, his injuries so severe that amputation had had to be applied to the worst damage. And while the invalid's family was alive, they believed him dead, the son's coming of age ceremony put off for the general's funeral rights. Last check, the Kaleesh's six wives were just finishing the mourning period by bathing in the waters in which they thought he had died. All the better for what San Hill's superiors had in store for the pitiful remains suspended in the bacta.

"Where am I?"

"Genosis. It is a planet of healers and inventors, the best place for your recovery."

His golden eyes widened in surprise. While Kalee was generally focused on it's own battles with the Huk, the general did pay attention to the news feeds, and knew of Genosis. It was three systems away from his homeworld, a month's travel without a hyperspace jump, something even healthy space pilots had to be careful about before attempting. The muun was up to something, but he would have to be patient if he wanted to learn what it was the skinny alien found important enough to lie to his face. Better to humor the slimy reprobate for now.

"Recovery? I should be dead, for a warrior is useless with a body as broken as mine."

"Ah."

Jackpot.

"There is a new procedure the Genosians have been working on. It would provide you with a new body, more powerful than before and less prone to damage. Would you like to be its first beneficiary?"

The proposal caught him off guard. A new body, whole and healthy. He could return to his people with honor, defeat the Huk once and for all. If such a journey could be arranged.

"Would I be able to return to Kalee?"

"Of course. Your people need you, and the Federation needs your people's support. It is in our interest to return their greatest general to them."

Greatest general? That was a first. None out side his own Kaleesh brethren had ever referred to him as a great anything. It was a suspicious offer at best, but what else was there?

"I accept."

"Wonderful! I will inform the medics immediately."

He watched at the slender silhouette of San Hill disappeared from his sight, and prayed to the gods that he had made the right decision.