Hey there! This chapter will have more Grievous, and we will also meet the third OC.

In case you were wondering, the overheard conversation last chapter was NOT a hint at a future JorusXElsa ship. Not to say that it won't happen...

Grievous looks most like his Revenge of the Sith appearance, in case you were wondering.

Also, this is Legends canon.

One last tidbit, Sir Asmund is the head of the small military(roughly 150 men) and so I decided to use an Old Norse name which means "Divine Protection".

This story will get quite dark near the end, since the mood shifting abruptly is just something Star Wars does, like "Hey, cute Ewoks! OH MY GOD LUKE IS LITERALLY DYING!"

I OWN NOTHING!

"How many forces do we still have?" Grievous inquired of the droid engineer. "We've lost eighty-five percent of the B1s, and the fuel for the tanks and starfighters detonated, Sir. However, we still have all of your personal IG-100 units and sixty-two percent of the B2s, as well as ten Droidekas and five of the Dwarf Spider Droids. We also have Count Dooku's agent, Sir." The blue-painted droid said in the characteristic high pitched voice of the B1 droids. "Grah! So that insufferable acolyte of the Count is still alive!" Grievous said. He hated that one, even more than he had despised Ventress back when she was still part of the C.I.S.

Ardin Follosi was the epitome of Dark Side Force users, except for the true Sith, of course. His saberstaff (Three guesses as to what color it is) hung at his belt. The Mirialan acolyte was striding towards Grievous' quarters (or at least whatever was left of it after the crash, he thought) but was stopped by the four Magnaguards outside the door. "The General specifically stated that you were not permitted inside his quarters until further notice." One of the elite droids said in its' incredibly deep and monotone voice. "Do I look like I care?" Follosi asked. "The General specifically stated-" The droid would have repeated itself had Ardin not waved his hands and caused four restraining bolts- which he had specially built and tailored himself to shut down the IG-100 Bodyguard Droid- to attach themselves to the droids. The ominous red glow in their photoreceptors faded as he simply walked through the door.

As he had expected, Grievous was very displeased by Follosi entering despite the fact that he had ordered his guards to keep him out. "What!?" The cyborg Kaleesh demanded.

"I examined what our sensors picked up on the entry to the atmosphere. There's a city nearby. A primitive city. I thought that we could conquer this world for amusement while we wait to be found." Follosi said. "I will choose what we do while on this miserable planet!" Grievous declared. Ardin sighed. "Very well, I will leave myself. I have no need of your help for now, and some of us need food to stay alive, and I'm tired of nutripaste." He said, his tone full of sarcasm. He left then.

"Good riddance..." Grievous muttered as the Mirialan left. He went into his personal quarters then; while he hadn't needed sleep (or food for that matter) ever since his cybernetic reconstruction, he still wanted his own private space. If the imbecile wanted to go out there and get hypothermia in these mountains, let him. Still... it would get boring just waiting here to be retrieved(he refused to use the term "rescued"). Perhaps he would eventually go and conquer this world. Who knew, maybe it was rich in valuable materials for the war effort. It could prove both profitable and amusing to conquer these primitive people. No. He wouldn't give Follosi the satisfaction of seeing him change his mind on this.

Twenty kilos. Ardin had checked the data from the ship's sensors before the crash, and that was how far from the city he was. He was quite capable of getting over the terrain alone, without substantial difficulty. But he had no real idea of just how primitive these people were. If they were still at the stage of development when swords and bows were the primary weapons, then he could defeat them alone. But if they had reached the point of technology when gunpowder weapons had been invented, then he might be overwhelmed by their superior numbers. He'd take some droids, B2s most likely. Based on the early firearms in the rest of the galaxy, only the heaviest weapons would be even moderately effective against their thick armor.

(A/N: I know Disney has said that Frozen takes place in 1840, but the extensive use of crossbows suggests somewhere from 1500-1600.)

And so, he was standing in front of the short and one-eyed PK unit marked as the one in charge of the group maintaining the inactive battle droids. "Statement: Commanding Officer has frozen access." The small droid buzzed. "Do I look like I care?" Follosi sarcastically asked. "Observation: Negative. Query: Why request access to the B2 heavy combat units?" The droid asked. "Step aside, droid, before I slice you to ribbons." Follosi ordered, shoving past the small thing. "Protest: Access has been frozen. Statement: Commanding Officer has ordered your requests for units denied." The droid buzzed out. Follosi ignited one blade of his saberstaff, the crimson glow casting a blood-red light over his green face. "Frightened protest: Destruction of a PK unit is prohib-" The droid was in two pieces before it could finish. Ardin entered the B2 storage area, and typed in the access code. It wouldn't have worked if it was his code, but it wasn't his. It was the General's. Twenty cold-weather B2s booted up, the red lights on their torsos indicating they were ready for battle.

Cross tripped over a small white... something, causing him to tumble down the small hill, landing face-first in the snow. His helmet meant he didn't actually get snow in his face, but it was annoying anyway. As he got up, groaning, he thought his helmet's audioreceptors must be malfunctioning somehow when a high-pitched voice spoke in plain Basic from atop the hill. "Hey, Mister! Are you okay?" It said. He whirled around, drawing his heavy blaster pistol as he did so, and found himself aiming down the sights at... was that a talking snowman!? Completely unfazed, the thing walked straight up to him and grabbed his leg. "Hi, I'm Olaf and I like warm hugs!" It squeaked. Cross kicked it off, aiming his pistol at its'- now upside-down- head immediately when it got back up. "Don't move!" Cross said. "Hey, you're mean! I'm telling Elsa and Anna! Wait, why are you hanging upside down like a bat?" It asked. "Hey, these, 'Elsa and Anna', can you take me to them?" Cross asked. "Yeah, but not until you apologize for being so mean!" The snowman said. Cross sighed. "I'm sorry. Now, will you take me to them?" The soldier asked. "Sure! Just follow me!" Olaf said.

Jorus was meditating in the simple room he had been supplied with. It was apparently part of the servant's quarters, but he didn't mind. It was the Jedi philosophy; he wore his robe so he was warm, he carried his lightsaber so he was safe, and he had enough Credits to purchase necessary supplies. If the Force wanted him to have more, it would find a way to let him know. He was experiencing a vision at the moment, and it disturbed him. In it, it was only the beams of light that must have been lightsabers that could be seen. In it, a purple blade- Master Windu?- dueled with a red one. A red blade; he would think it was Dooku, but the Count only used Makashi, while this Sith was using everything. Suddenly, the red blade flew away. Master Windu was seemingly about to make the kill, when a blue blade flared out of the dark and disarmed Windu, and then a torrent of Sith lightning blasted the Jedi. Troubled, he left his meditation and went for walk in the royal gardens. He'd quickly figured out if there was one. He always meditated a bit better around plants. The flowers were all dormant for the winter, but it didn't matter. While to his disappointment he didn't learn anymore of the future, he did sense a presence with dormant Force potential very nearby. It was getting closer, too.

The yelp of suprise broke his concentration. Jorus' eyes snapped open just in time to get a face full of snow. He looked up, seeing Anna standing with a burly man he hadn't seen before. "I'm sorry that I alarmed you two. That was a state called Rising Meditation. It happens sometimes to senior Jedi." He said as he got up. "Senior? How old are you?" The man asked. "You don't have to be a senior Jedi. Now, Jorus Colton, Jedi Knight, and you are...?" Jorus asked. "Right.. Kristoff Bjorgman, Ice Harvester." The man said. "Can I ask why you two are here?" Jorus asked. "We were looking for you. There's a man in white armor with violet markings here who Olaf found in the mountains. He told us that he was looking for a man who looked like you." Anna said. White and violet armor...that was what the troopers of the 603rd Legion wore! "I think I know who he is. Can you take me to him?" Colton said. He knew that the Force-sensitive presence must be one of them, but he had more important matters currently.

Cross had been led by the odd little creature through the city, earning a lot of curious, suspicious, and even frightened looks. He knew that treatment all too well; he remembered being treated with utmost suspicion and often enough contempt on Coruscant after Clone troops were suddenly granted leave privileges the previous year. He remembered how the Mandalorian training sergeant he was assigned on Kamino after being chosen for additional covert ops training by the Kaminiise had referred to them as 'wet droids'. Anyway, he was slightly taken aback when he realized they were going to the huge structure in the center of town.

The interior was heavily decorated, but Cross really didn't care. He'd seen plenty of things more impressive in the hours he'd spent out of barracks on Coruscant. He was now certain that this was a relatively primitive world. The first person he actually saw after they entered was a Human female redhead. "Hi Anna!" The snowman shouted out as he scurried over to the young woman...