This chapter follows both canon and new material introduced by the author. Grievous is slightly OOC, but then again, his character in Revenge of the Sith and Clone Wars 2008-2015 was deplorable and laughable to begin with. He's an awesome adversary that had potential, so that's why I wrote this story in the first place.
Also, thank you Metastability, SupernaturalGodzilla, funnybunny16, Guest and Sereq ieh Dashret (AO3) for your reviews! I'm so happy you're all enjoying this story. It's nice to get such wonderful feedback and appraisals.
Chapter 4~Geonosis, Once Again
In the golden, early morning of Coruscant and with an uncomfortable brush of crisp, heavy air; Ventress was standing in the hangar with the General, her luggage scattered hap-hazardly around due to their immense weight. They stood side-by-side silently, almost ignoring each other's presences. She looked up at him and wanted to ask why he was being so quiet, but once she set her gaze on the side of his mask she knew he was pondering over something. His fingers twitched and his eyes were downcast and hazy. She felt an insignificant urge to hold his hand, but held herself back from doing so. Instead, she simply crossed her arms loosely over her chest and watched as their shuttle slowly descended inside the hangar.
Once they boarded, Dooku ordered the door to be promptly shut and commanded them briskly to sit down. They did so, both startled by the Count's abrupt demeanor. None of them exchanged a word to each other until their shuttle was out of Coruscant's atmosphere, heading in the opposite direction of Cato-Neimoidia . After a wait of unbearable silence, the Count sat in perfect posture and heaved a great sigh.
"Some plans have been…changed drastically, to say the least," he said uneasily. "You two will not be heading back to Neimoidia…for a while, actually."
"What's going on, my lord?" Ventress asked abruptly. "W-where are we going?" Ohhh shit.
The Count became quite grave. "Remember that so-called dustball, Geonosis? Little did you know how important it is to the whole Confederacy. Nobody, except me, Sidious, and a couple others knew it this whole time until me and the Separatist council held another meeting involving an individual I've long known named Poggle the Lesser…"
Grievous' surrogate ears pressed up against his head.
"Wait, is that why you were gone for a couple days during the first week of training?" Ventress probed.
"Yes," the Count drawled.
"Does this have anything to do with the rebellion you told us about occurring on that planet?" asked Grievous.
"Indeed, except now it's gotten a whole lot worse," he closed his eyes for a few moments before slowly opening them. "That's there Poggle the Lesser comes in. You see, he's the leader of this rebellion and uprising. Not only that, but he and Viceroy Gunray struck a partnership almost a year ago, earning Poggle a seat for the Separatist council. This partnership has been one of the best decisions for the Confederacy, as Poggle is one of the individuals supplying our huge influx of B-1 battle droids."
Ventress gasped. "Oh my...I was never told this! I thought that- "
The Count interrupted her. "So, what does this have to do with the revolt? Well, Poggle's rebels have now gained so much control over their hive, they were able to kill off one of higher status, which earned Poggle a spot as the ruler of their newfound colony. Once he had done this, he agreed to affiliate his swarm with the Confederacy. Afterwards, he managed to capture Jedi Obi-Wan and his padawan, Anakin Skywalker after he discovered them spying on not only a meeting we had been holding, but after they infiltrated a Droid Union factory. He trialed them for espionage."
Grievous clenched his fists. "He executed the bastards, right?"
Dooku was silent for what felt like a full minute before responding to the question, in which he looked the General dead in the eyes. "This is where it all began," he sighed. "He attempted to execute them in an arena, but it ended up failing miserably. Senator Padme Amidala must have warned the Jedi Council ahead of time before Obi-Wan and Skywalker were caught. She and Poggle had met before and…it was not on the friendliest terms. Anyways, before the Jedi spies, along with Amidala, could be killed and outnumbered, a whole flock of Jedi from the Council came and started attempted to rescue them. Fortunately, Poggle had a plethora of B1's on him and started executing them on the spot."
"What's the progress?" The General asked all-too excitedly, even though he felt angered a good portion of their army was being used without his command or permission.
The Count looked out the window. He seemed lost in thought, as if he didn't want to answer any questions asked about these odd predicaments. Ventress could see in his eyes that he was feeling inner turmoil and confusion, which made her wonder if he was hiding something from them. Again he rested his tired eyes for a moment before taking a long, quiet sigh and turning back to face the General and Commander.
"How would you two feel if I told you we're at war?" he said meekly.
Ventress and Grievous both turned to look at each other in shock, both taking their time to register what he had just told them. Ventress felt her bottom lip tremble, her face turning white while Grievous' eyes blazed a brighter orange, his pupils mere slits as she saw the whites of his eyes. Their hands were clenched into fists and held firmly on their legs, both remaining absolutely silent before they turned their gazes back at Dooku's nonchalant one.
"What!?" the both cried out.
The Count gave a slow nod. "Yes. It was declared so just yesterday. I received the news from Poggle and Hill last night. Our droid armies and The Republic have been fighting each other day and night without rest. They are in the middle of brewing turmoil, so we need to be there as soon as we can!"
"What of the Jedi?" Grievous asked angrily.
"A good amount died on the battlefield," Dooku said. "However, the survivors retreated once the feud began and now the Republic has clones out there fighting and doing the dirty work."
Grievous gave a harsh, bitter laugh that made Ventress feel uncomfortable. He suddenly raised his fist in the air before slamming it onto the seat next to him, causing a indentation in the metal. He was still laughing. "Even the Jedi, themselves know their beliefs and core values are such utter bullshit!" he cried out. "They're on a battlefield for ten minutes before they realize their teachings of…of Jediism—ugh—does not work or translate well in an upscale battle such as this one. Worse yet, they had the audacity to defend those that commit espionage, one of the worst crimes you could commit, and they bring with them chaos and mass-destruction when they, the Council break a goddamned intergalactic law." He suddenly took on a pinched, resentful tone. "Fighting for peace—what they claim to be doing it for—does nothing at all. Fighting for "peace" is an invention made by those who are privileged enough to know what peace is in the first place. It's a way to keep those experiencing life-threatening issues to remain silent and accept their fates."
Ventress put her face in her hands and wiped the familiar saline-infused fluid from her eyes. She couldn't put into words how she was feeling about all this, but she felt this exact way when Narec lay dead at her feet. It was as if all the hopes and dreams she had for the future were pounded into an insignificant cube by an enormous fist, while the feeling of dread began to take over as if evoking a keen memory of an event that happened many years beforehand. Combine this with the thoughts of vulnerability while you felt you could conquer the universe, she never felt more confused and depressed in her life when these emotions hit her.
"This isn't the time to get weepy and reminiscent!" the Count spoke bitterly. "There will be time for that later. I don't want Post-traumatic stress-disorder to become a thing among you two. We're at war, and you need to be in-game. Nothing is going to spare or coddle you. Nothing, although I'm sure you two know this already."
Ventress felt for the lightsabers in her side-skirt pockets, trying to drive an angry urge away. "Are you going to drop us off in the battlefield…or, battlefields by the sound of it?"
A shake of the head from the Count. "No. I'm not even sure if you two will be fighting. We're meeting with Poggle and others in an anonymous area uncharted by the Republic. There's a droid factory there. The Clones have yet to infiltrate that."
"The droid factories are not safe on Geonosis. They're vulnerable," Grievous commented. "Either they develop higher security or- "
"Excellent points, General," Dooku commented. "We will be discussing this when we arrive on Geonosis. In the axis it's currently in and the location of the droid factory no rival should see our coming," he then gave a swift cough. "Unless there's more Jedi spies on the loose, of course."
Even though she sensed the Count was joshing with them, she pulled out one of her lightsabers and ignited it. "Well…in any given case, come armed. That way we can blow or slice them to pieces."
Dooku shot her a sniggered look. "Hm. I'm sure you'd know better about that, wouldn't you?"
By the time their conversing was ending they had entered the atmosphere of Geonosis, the ship taking a sudden, plummeting dive before picking back up and decelerating at a sluggish, careful speed. Ventress listened in for the sound of gunfire or the cacophonic echoes of struggle and chaos, yet all she could discern were the quiet noises of their shuttle engine and the repetitive calculations emitting from the cockpit where their B1 pilot sat. The assassin leaned forward and peeked through the window to see the pilot conversing to a commander droid sitting next to him. It was definitely not unusual to see or hear two B1's chatting with each other, as they seemed to all appear to have a similar comradery no matter the occupation or ranking.
However, there was something unusual about the mannerisms they displayed in which they were interacting. B1 droids were not known for their sophisticated design or advanced bearings, as they were basically programmed to stand attentively in lines and shoot a rifle—with the exception of some rankings such as the pilots and the Commanders. When the droids had free time among their other droid colleagues, they still stood unbending and attentive, as if they had to constantly be prepared for an unexpected attack (which in many ways was true for any individual fighting in these times of tumult). They often spoke in soliloquy and out loud, as if they weren't aware of other beings in their surroundings.
Ventress wouldn't have been thinking too hard about this if she hadn't seen the pilot pressing his speaking grill near the hearing sensor of the Commander droid. The Commander seemed to be listening assiduously, nodding a couple times as the pilot indicated something both forward and to the left with his slender pointer finger. With a final indication, the pilot moved back to his seat and turned attentively back to his occupation, but not before leaning to the right in a swift motion and gave what must have been a final, harsh whisper before the Commander released a trill of laughter.
What are they talking about? the assassin wondered. They're being awfully secretive about it. Maybe it's time they underwent a memory wipe.
Before she could think more about it, she suddenly felt as if their shuttle was sinking slowly down into something. That familiar, descending feeling which sent her legs kicking straight in front of her while an eerie lightness enveloped her body as if she would float up and touch the roof. Peeking anxiously out the window behind her (she didn't want to make eye contact with the Count from peeking out his), she saw what looked like basalt escarpment, tinged with scarlet and bright orange stripes, which got more opalescent and vibrant the deeper they descended. The inside of their shuttle suddenly became unnervingly dark, mottled with the glow of the red and ochre-hued geology just barely scraping the ship.
Ventress was beginning to feel claustrophobic, which was saying something on her part considering she was used to being crammed into tiny, scummy ships deprived of any proper space that could make one go insane. It came with the training, and the fear of being confined was something you could not bear when you entered a dangerous occupation such as hers. Tight spaces were practically her friends when she was sent on a cutthroat mission.
This time for some reason was different, and she was beginning to feel quite woozy. As they continued further downward, she felt as if she left her head up top. She felt a bead of sweat on her forehead,and the air around her soon felt heavier, and she smelled a mixture of a smoke-tinged air and coagulated blood.
She was soon feeling avid dizziness, and something hit her what felt like cool rain on her skin. Looking down at herself, she saw raindrops against her pale flesh, and the number of them continued to bead onto her flesh above. She looked upward and saw that the shuttle was slowly disappearing, being replaced strip by strip with a green, wet forest instead. Thunder began to resound within her eardrums, and soon she realized she was in the middle of a great oak arboretum, in the rain, a thunderstorm brewing above her.
The perspiration continued to grow as the scents became stronger and soon she found she was hearing the sounds of bellowing and heaving sobs, which came onto her ever-so slowly. Soon she was looking down and Ky was at her feet, his eyes devoid of life and the pool of blood beneath his head spreading further out and sticking to the bottoms of her leather boots.
Ky I am so, so sorry! Oh my gods you're dead…why!? I was here next to you and I could have pulled you out of the way on time…oh please Ky please oh please don't be dead. Please! Please! Those pirates, I've got them! Stay here, just stay here and I'll help you…you're dead. I—you're dead…please come back…please!
"Asajj!"
Ventress shook her head and the smells and resonating screams stopped, replaced with disorganized voices and sandy light pouring onto her. The Count stood in front of her, glaring at her and tapping his foot impatiently. The General had dawned his silver cape, which covered his entire, foreboding body elegantly. His amber eyes were narrow, his posture perfectly straight and daunting.
Before the Count could say another word, she stood up and shoved her lightsabers further into her pockets, attempting to discern the muddled conversations occurring outside their shuttle. Without another word, she stood beside Grievous as they pursued the General to the outdoors onto a high platform. Ventress realized they had descended into one of the deepest and largest canyons she had ever seen. Seeing it all made her feel insignificant and helpless…two things she never wanted to embody in her most astounding qualities. Standing to the right of the Count, she overlook her surroundings in avid curiosity.
Below them were what must have been hundreds of Geonosians, all talking, rambling, conversing, and using a liberal mount of body language all throughout, flapping their brown, chitin wings anxiously. A good amount of them appeared to nobles or of higher status, judging by their attire, as most Geonosians failed to wear any sort of clothing at all. Some seemed to be high-ranking soldiers, wearing durasteel armor around their shelled, awkward bodies and standing straight and imposing.
She looked father back behind the mob and saw a diverse amount of ships, ranging from freighters to carriers to starships and even a couple small cruisers with…ion cannons. She watched carefully as a few of the insectoids carried large, heavy crates into the freighters—and from the aggrieved looks on their faces as they did so the assassin surmised they must have been filled to the max with valuables and beneficial material. Seeing the individuals who were loading the bombers, they couldn't have been as high on the social ladder as she had surmised. She saw a plethora of B1 and B2 Super Battle droids lining the walls of the canyon, looking fierce and astute despite their simplistic appearances.
The three of them stood there, overlooking the action without a word being said or spoken forward for a few long moments before the Geonosians glanced up at them, all seeming to turn toward them in the same instant and giving an almighty salute and shout.
"At your service, General and Commander!" their voices bellowed throughout the canyon, sending a rush of excitement up the assassin's spine. She straightened her posture and rested her hands behind her like a professional Commander, shooting a glance at the imposing General as she did so. A few yips and hollers resounded from the crowd, some who began to raise their clawless fists in the air and cry out their names in uttermost respect. True, it was rather iconoclastic to not stay in a salute when in front of two high-ranking members of the army until they dismissed it, yet the passionate cries of victory and for a promising future made her feel proud and capable.
The Count remained nonchalant. "Impressive," is all he muttered before raising a hand upward, shushing the roused throng. There was still a holler here and there, but Ventress saw even the Geonosians knew better than to get on Dooku's bad side. The silence soon became so great the wind could be heard thousands of feet above.
"Thank you," the Count said quietly before raising his voice for every single out of the hundreds of Geonosians to hear. "Ladies and gentleman…" he began with enthusiasm in his voice, which echoed throughout, "It is truly an honor to be delivering a speech in front of so many capable, intelligent, iconoclastic individuals such as you all—the ones who rebelled against the tyranny of the Galactic Republic, the ones who broke the social hierarchy of your grand race and dismantled a liberal portion of the caste system—and because of your generous contributions and evident prodigies in advanced Technology, you have all made what the Confederate army what it is today…a tough resilient superpower that defines the spectrum of highly advanced technology."
There were loud cheers and cries that followed right after, before they were quickly quieted once more. The Count had an eloquent way with words that Ventress envied.
"Your cooperation has—and I cannot express this enough—greatly assisted and influenced us for this upcoming war. I have never met a more resilient species such as you all. You have all made an excellent choice siding with the Confederacy." More whoops and cries. "I would also like to give thanks to a very intelligent individual who has helped shape what our military is today." He turned to look on his left-hand side, where Grievous was patiently standing. "Poggle, come up here, please."
The sharp applause and the cries of pride rebounded through the canyon as a taller-than-usual Geonosian walked awkwardly onto the stage, his green and brown attire swinging behind him with each stride. He walked past the General and shook hands with the Count, both smiling at each other as if they were close friends. When they finished their quick, formal greeting the Geonosian stood on the Count's left hand-side before Dooku began to speak, silence once again their best friend.
"It is because of this individual we have your excellent technology assisting us in the first place—and not only that. Poggle the Lesser—or should I just say Poggle now that the social pyramid is nearly broken—has, with his proficient skills in the field of Engineering and art, created these fantastic models and diverse array of droids, modernizing them so they may be more beneficial as soldiers while keeping the traditional appearance of the original battle droid. Poggle has also proven to us that resilience and intellect will serve you and others well." There was something suggesting irony in his voice, but it was subtle. He looked back at the high-authoritarian Geonosian, both exchanging nods before the Count backed away and Poggle took the center of the podium, his wide stature nearly rubbing up against the Commander's shoulder.
"My brethren," he began in his strange, foreign voice. "We have made the most excellent choice of joining the Confederacy of Independent Systems. Although there have been some…disagreements and complications concerning one individual, it is because of these er—people I am standing with we will be moving toward the future." He raised a fist in the air, which Ventress began to surmise was a custom or quirk with the Geonosian race. She wondered who he was referring to, but whoever it was she could just the mere thought of Poggle thinking about him/her made his eyes beady and his teeth grit.
There were booming hollers that were shushed by Poggle. "I am just as excited and riled as you all are. To be in the service of General Grievous and Commander Ventress is incredible on its own." He paused for reflection, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again. "Speaking of Grievous…" his turned to look at the fine General, whose cape was pushed behind him, exposing his powerful, duranium body. He had remained facing forward toward the audience the entire time, grazing over each individual face before he heard his name being said by Poggle and the weight of the Geonosian's gaze. He turned his tawny eyes over to the Separatist and looked at him in intrigue.
Poggle smiled and motioned for the General to approach him, which Grievous reluctantly did so, keeping his eyes on the Geonosian's shiny, black ones.
"This here, ladies and gentleman, is an extraordinary being," Poggle commenced. "For many generations, aliens from every planet and galaxy have pondered over the fact of mixing man with machine. Some said it was impossible, and the organic would soon succumb to the machine and die during the procedure. Some thought something part machine would lose the concept of morality. Others disagreed, and believed that such a transition could be possible—to a certain extent. The latter was right, as we now have cybernetic limbs and implements for those who need it, and they can still affiliate with their peers and cultures. However, there was no proof that there was no extent to it until I created General Grievous." There were mixed gasps and whispers in the audience, shifty eyes, glances, and an occasional shake of the head. The audience this time, however, seemed to shush itself.
Created General Grievous? The assassin wondered.
"Grievous here is as far as we will ever get when it comes to making a cyborg in which the only components of his original organics are his lungs and heart, brain, and face…although the latter must not come too much in handy, does it?" He released a dark chuckle, followed by a bitter trill of laughter from the onlookers. The General's pupils became reduced and his eyes turned a tad darker orange. Poggle gave a quick cough before continuing.
"Never has there been—nor will there ever be a man/machine hybrid that embodies the rippling power and intelligence as Grievous. It is of the latest Geonosian design I had created…along with the inspiration from the original Krath war droid, do we have a capable figure that is tougher than any droid or bipedal being while possessing the litheness and flexibility of an organic. I believe he—and colleague Commander Ventress of course—will be the most capable leaders of our droid army. You won't let us down, Sheelal." Sheelal?
Even Grievous showed just as much surprise as she was thinking, his eyes widening and speckling with tinges of orange.
"How did you…?" Ventress heard the General ask Poggle quietly before the Geonosian backed away and motioned the Count back up front.
"Thank you for the rousing speech, Poggle," the Count said all-too drearily. "Be sure to prep everything you all have as best as you can, because after tonight, none of you will be on this planet again until disputes are settles. You all have a future ahead of you, look forward and not in the past. We must remain resistant and strong…for the Confederacy."
There was a sudden boom of voices, applause and cries, before a tubular shout of hundreds to nearly thousands of Geonosians all together cried "For the Confederacy! For Freedom from the Republic!" followed again by "At your service, General and Commander!" Soon they were bellowing and on the verge of blaring this slogan repeatedly, as if one was trying to out-do the other in an ear-piercing screaming match. Ventress found herself fighting tooth and nail to cover her ears in front of them in fear of a too-high decibel doing permanent damage to her eardrums.
She had been unimpressed and creeped out by Poggle's speech. From the way he said it, in her opinion anyway, the way he spoke of Grievous as being his "creation" seemed as if Poggle had not taken into any consideration that Grievous had been a being beforehand. Well, obviously, he had to some degree, considering he referenced the cyborg by an old name from her understanding. However, she wondered if Poggle saw Grievous as somebody different from the blood-and-flesh mortal he had once been. She saw the General as having his own identity, not being the "creation" from an intelligent but conniving engineer. It almost felt like prostitution to her, as if the General's body was of the Geonosian's—technically it was so—yet the way Poggle had spoken about him almost seemed like possession. She wondered if she was being too picky and sensitive on the subject, but she had listened to the Geonosian male's speech intently, and she was wondering if he was planning on forming Grievous into something utterly difference from what he once was.
She hoped to the gods she was over-thinking it and none of what she had been construing was true.
The assassin found herself much relieved to be excused away from such an obstreperous spectacle. She followed Dooku and the General cautiously through the crowd, which at least parted for them respectively, as they head through the massive barrage of ships of many shapes, sizes, and purposes. Dodging swiftly below a small freighter, Poggle lead the three of them into a droid factory (which appeared to be mostly empty and abandoned) built in the side of the orange canyon, right in front of a small gulley. He took a right into the third office farthest from the entrance and sat himself down, swinging the door closes with a remote control once they had all entered and parked at a shabby lightwood table riddled with age and black grain.
The General eyed the small chairs precariously before standing in perfect stature, back linear to the wall. "I'd prefer to stand, thank you," he said languidly. Poggle seemed to eye the General's 7'1 form keenly before turning his attention to the three of them, Dooku respectively.
"I-err, understand this is a bit of a last minute notice for you all…" he trailed fretfully, his wrists pressed against the desk and tapping the ends of his fingers together. "We had…not realized how quickly the Clone armies were approaching this particular area. We're not sure if they saw us coming here or not, but I believe if we stay here for another full day they'll be on to us."
"Do not apologize," the Count spoke gruffly. "This is definitely not the first time this has happened." He gave a weary sigh. "We didn't see or hear any combat on our way here, but that might just have been because of the direction we came from." Poggle heaved a congested sigh of relief.
"I cannot take any chances, however," Poggle said. "I do not find it wise to stay here. I have already sent fifteen battalions of droids outwards, so I'm sure the Republican armies will sooner or later discover the sources of these droid influxes."
"D-did you say fifteen battalions?" the General nearly sputtered. Poggle turned his attention to Grievous and gave a nervous nod.
"Yes, General. I know that is quite a huge number to comprehend, but I believe such drastic measures were necessary. Me and Tambor entered an agreement in which I may hold co-ownership of the droid factories on Geonosis."
"Well, if you need to send fifteen battalions of battle droids out at once in such a short period of time, maybe you—or we—need to come up with better, more sophisticated droids possessing both ingenuity and strength," The General stated. It was Poggle's turn to start sputtering.
"W-what? Do you not see how advanced these droids already are!? Without guidance, they can act independently. While they cannot do it terribly well, over time they learn from their surroundings and can figure out different tactics and solutions on how to kill the enemy! How would you even know? You've never even sent any to battle yet. How would you know if you've never had experiences with them? How- "
"I don't like the way you're addressing my colleague," Ventress butted in. "Why use the stuck-up tones? There is no need to be patronizing! We've both had positive and negative experiences with these droids. He's simply addressing an issue that we might want to look into."
"B-but why?" Poggle faltered. "They've got the perfect, lithe design for combat. I- "
"Poggle is right," Dooku finally spoke. "These droids are already expensive to make. Having to manufacture new ones after the design has been finalized and sent en mass all over the galaxy is going to add to the deficit."
"Exactly!" The Geonosian reprimanded. "We've already gotten in enough trouble after that blasted Gunray leaked the location of that one droid factory on Geonosis where I found those two Jedi scum."
Ventress gave a soft sigh. "Huh. Sounds like the incompetence of Gunray all right. How has he not been fired, again?"
Dooku swiftly changed the subject. "Poggle, it is because of Gunray you even have these ships in the first place—let alone half the materials you'll be bringing with you. I will not tolerate the quibbles you and Gunray get into on a daily basis. Now, let me ask you something. How many Geonosians joined your rebellion, and how many of them will be coming to Hypori?"
"Oh it's a difficult estimate," Poggle discerned. "I'd say we've got about 1300 individuals down here now who will be coming with us. We're expecting a lot more by the time night hits—they're officers and resilient soldiers, so we'll be wanting them with us. Once so, we must leave. We're already almost finished loading the freighters with rations and materials and the cruisers with the droids we were able to salvage. Adding the droids to the equation is unmeasurable for now, but me and a couple others surmise there's about 25,000 droids accompanying us."
"Hypori…" Ventress murmured out loud without thinking. "That's where the Techno Union Droid factory is, isn't it?" Poggle and the Count nodded.
"Yes. The largest droid manufacturer in the Galaxy not under Republican siege," said Poggle matter-of-factly. "A good amount of the Geonosians down here are going to employ under the work of Tambor and Dooku," he seemed to be addressing the Count more than her. "It is awfully generous of you to offer employment for my people, Count. I cannot express enough gratitude toward you."
"So, most of the Geonosians out there—coming with us—are not nobles?"
Poggle shook his head. "No, Commander. Most of them are workhands and some even have backgrounds as being the hive drones." A half-beam pulled on the left part of his mouth. "However, they are all part of my insurgence now. Because of the chances I, Dooku, and other generous Confederates have given us, they now have a higher chance to succeed past being a low-hierarchal sudras. These people are no longer subjacent servants. In fact, we have been attempting to ban the word drone from our accumulate."
He then shifted his eyes over to Grievous.
"Hmm…I haven't asked you two how you're feeling about all this. How do you two feel that you'll be leading a whole colony of Geonosians to Hypori?"
"Welll…" Ventress trailed. "I've gotten much more elaborate missions last-minute before." She was trying to shrug it off as being an easy task, but she wasn't showing it too well. Grievous seemed more open to showing his emotions toward things he liked or opposed more than she did, and she admired him for it.
"I have a great respect for your race after you 'fixed me up'," the General said. "As well as your tremendous contributions in the field of technology…although I am overwhelmed by such an…elaborate mission. I'm not even sure where Hypori is."
"Oh it's not even far from here at all," Poggle chuckled. "It's like the twin of Geonosis except…uglier." He trailed nervously.
"Oh my! Sounds tempting," Ventress said, snide. She suddenly felt something sharp pinch her thigh. Gritting her teeth in surprise and discomfort, she shifted a swift gaze to the Count and saw him casting a sideways glare her way, the rough fingers on her thigh tightening as he did so.
By the Force…
Ventress nearly cried out as she felt Dooku's nails dig into her flesh. "I-Is its Geonosian-like terrain that attracts you to it…other than the droid factory?" she asked hastily, the Count's hand moving away back to his own lap as she stated her query. He was still glowering at her.
Poggle shrugged. "Sort of. Also, it's close and is left uncharted off Republican territory. There is no way they're going to venture out to a planet like Hypori." Ventress wasn't sure if that made her feel more comforted or scared for what to expect of this "planet".
"I was just being an ass," Ventress spoke. "I'd be willing to do it, even though it sounds rather treacherous." Dooku gave her a strange expression. "You're an assassin. Treachery shouldn't be a problem for either of you."
"But it's a plethora of lives we're dealing with…"
The General sat cross-legged on the floor, tapping his metal finger against his cheek, pondering the whole situation. Ventress was right. This was his first real mission, and it was last-minute and involved the lives of what would possibly be over 2000 souls. He and Ventress were already seen as heroes among these people. They lived night and day hoping they'd be successful—because their lives depended on it. If the two of them could guide these individuals safely to this new planet, they'd be seen as a savior among them. They had nobody else who would be willing to do it for them, so he and Ventress were their last chance.
Ventress thought all of it over. Guiding thousands of lives to a new desolate planet. This was more periculous than assassinating a single individual over the course of many days or weeks. Lives. They were going to be saving lives, not ending them. She knew Grievous had respect for the Geonosians. She wasn't sure she wanted to put their lives in danger for something…like this.
Then again, why not? She could prove that she was willing to assist those trying to escape from the tyrannical ways of the Galactic Republic because of two spying Jedi. She felt her blood boil from the thought of a colony having to leave their home because of a case that should have been put to justice—execution, yet the Jedi who tried to avenge their colleagues only made it worse…now there was a war. She could not believe it was happening, but she was tired of Republicans. She was tired of Jedi. She was tired of the constant oppression. Most importantly of all, she was tired of the lack of independent, of free will, of liberty. She had spoken of enacting ways to stop or reduce Republican influences…now was a chance to do it.
Yet she was a padawan of the Dark Side, and altruism was not something you could side for when training under its influential arts.
Then again—she was a CIS Commader as well.
Feeling that her mind was inundated with her dualistic disputes, she wasn't quite keen on responding yet. Instead, she found herself asking: "Where is Hypori, exactly?"
Poggle seemed greatly relieved she had asked, as if fearing to ask her if she knew of the planet's location. He opened the top drawer of his desk and retrieved a tightly-rolled, new-looking map. As he unraveled it, Ventress eyed it curiously. Poggle caught her immediate, curious gaze. "I…uh, I would have just pulled up a map of the Galaxy on the holo-projector, but it only shows what the Republic has added to their systems." He retrieved two thumbtacks from a box on his desk and pinned it down to the table, making sure it wouldn't ravel back up.
Ventress peered onto it with the General and admired the intricacy that went into making it. Much to her surprise, the map also charted Ratattak, nailing the location and axis of it perfectly. She eyed around for Kalee, yet couldn't find Utapau—a definite outlier that Kalee wasn't mapped as well. Still, she was impressed by the coordination of the many planets, star systems, and descriptions of each one in superb detail.
"I found it," the General stated, pointing a bony finger on a light brown planet located behind Geonosis, and it wasn't as close as Ventress would have liked. The only thing that would have made it worse were if it was behind another asteroid belt.
"Oh my…" she mumbled. "It's not as close as I would have thought it to be."
"You've travelled much farther, before," the Count butted in, matter-of-factly. "Only this time, you don't need to worry about Republican obstructions or blockades…or asteroid belts." Ventess swore she could hear a bitter smile forming on his aging face. She found herself taking a swift, quiet breath in before letting it all out through her nose.
"Yeah, yeah…" her voice hilted to a tremble before she gained composure. She studied the map for a moment more in silence before turning her head slightly toward the General, who was standing beside her and analyzing the chart with a delicate precision she had to admire. As his left hand lazily traced the cream-colored contours of the map, he gently moved the fingers of his right hand around the territory of Hypori, Geonosis, and beyond. Watching as he traced an invisible path between the two planets, Ventress realized he was outlining how to guide the fleet out of Geonosis. Like a scientist revising his work, Grievous seemed to be so enveloped in his plotting and charting the Commander realized he had not been contributing to their conversation.
As she watched the General begin to equate, with his fingers, the distance between Geonosis and Hypori with more familiar planets on the map, Ventress could hear Poggle shift around in his seat impatiently, drawing her avid attention away from the General's work.
"There will be Republican blockades around Geonosis now because of this enduring battle," Ventress warned. "There is no doubt about it. In fact, I'd be more worried if they didn't start doing it."
Poggle gave his own version of a guttural growl. "That's why we must leave tonight. We cannot waste any more time here. Republican militaries are advancing upon this location as we speak."
Shit.
The General suddenly moved his hands off the map. "I have determined, if this map is accurate, that the distance between Geonosis and Hypori is equivalent between the orbit of Talus and Kashyyyk," he abruptly avowed.
Poggle looked offended. "That map is accurate. It's the latest, most updated type we've received."
Pondering over the General's supposition, Ventress split her pointer and middle finger above the two planets, studying their placement before moving her stretched digits over to Talus and Kashyyyk; being ever-so careful as she pressed her phalanx against the map. Other than having to move her middle finger slightly closer in to get the closest approximation and having to twist her wrist around due to their placements, the distances were exactly the same.
Poggle raised his brow, giving the General a questioning look. "In fact…" Grievous added, "If the scale on the map is correct as well, it appears that Kashyyyk and Talus are approximately 230 million kilometers away from each other. Since there are only a couple months left—I'm measuring in Coruscant's calendar—until the end of this Geonosian year, Geonosis is closer to Hypori at this point than what the map shows. If I had to give you an exact estimate, I'd day Geonosis is currently around 210 million kilometers away from Hypori, maybe slightly less than that."
Ventress caught on right away and began to speak alongside his point.
"And from what the GPS on our shuttle gave us…" she began. "We are far above the equator, near Geonosis' northern hemisphere. With the axis it's tilted at right now, and with how close we are to Hypori because of the orbit it's currently in, the trajectory of our ships and fighters can easily follow a designated, yet curved path to Hypori—as the Techno Droid Union is located near the northern hemisphere of that planet."
"Exactly," the General asserted.
The Geonosian kept his eyebrow quirked, but a smile began to form—large enough for crinkles to form in the corners.
"That is a most excellent observation, General," Poggle declared. "I am impressed with your attentiveness. Didn't I say he'd make an excellent strategist, Dooku?"
"When will a conclusive answer be made?" the Count responded with great impatience. "There is no time for compliments or accolades. You repeatedly speak of how we cannot dilly-dally, yet that is what the three of you are continuing to do."
Poggle's smile faded as he clumsily stood up, stiffly nodding and rolling up the map as quickly as he could. "M-my sincere apologies, Count Dooku," he spoke, ignoring his precipitous awkwardness. "You are so very right…so very right." He shoved the map carelessly into Ventress' arms. "Y-you're both going to want to study this, I-I'm sure. You'll probably have a digital map in the ship already, b-but just in case…" The Commander caught Dooku rolling his eyes.
So…I guess we will be doing this after all. I do wonder if he heard-
"How are you feeling about this, Commander Ventress and General Grievous," Poggle asked once again, interrupting her thoughts.
"Oh!" she cried out in surprise. "Eh, it doesn't sound that bad. No, not bad at all. I-I'd be very willing to do it. How about you, General?"
"Most certainly," he said in a voice that was much calmer and more fluid than in the ways she and Poggle had been speaking. "I will say this with gratitude once again—if it was not for the capable engineering attributes and prodigies of your race, I wouldn't be standing here, making plans for the future."
"Aahhh, well…" Poggle spoke hesitantly, backing up toward the door. "I am quite enthralled to hear that. You are a hero to us…or, you shall be. Uh, if you two need any help with this plotting…I'll be around here, and you'll most likely want to talk to some of the pilots and engineers coming along. Pilots wear light blue attire…engineers always red. However, you're pretty capable as well."
In just one gauche moment, Poggle swiftly and silently exited the room, leaving the three of them standing there, as if waiting for something noteworthy to happen. The Count finally gave groan and hoisted himself from his seat.
"What're you two just standing there, for?" he spoke, brusquely. "We were already late when we got here. There's a lot that needs to be done!"
"I think we can handle it," Ventress said as nonchalantly as she could muster, clinging the map under her arm. "It seems that the General has more of a knack for careful observation than I realized." Even speaking that surprised her. It was the highest compliment she had ever given somebody else after she turned to the Dark Side, and she could even see Dooku look at her, questionably.
"Ah…yes," he finally said. "But I'm just wondering if you'll be capable of doing this not-so task without failing miserably." The tone his voice took sounded more denigrating than usual.
So much so, that Ventress found herself nearly biting her lip bloody to not call him by a foul appellation. "I still believe we've got this under our belts, thank you," she retorted, "And if you have no confidence in us why won't you be partaking in this journey?"
It felt meagerly satisfying to speak to him in such a way, even with the way he glowered at her afterwards.
"Don't be impertinent, Asajj! You know very well why I will not be going along with you two. You must learn to be independent and self-reliant, do you understand? That's what I have been teaching you, and you've been abiding by it well. Isn't acting independent on your own what you want?"
"Yes, Count…but- "
"No," Dooku whispered, placing his hand tightly over her mouth. "No. There are no "buts", Ventress. No excuses from you. You've always wanted to avenge Ky Narec…and now this is your chance." His voice suddenly took a virulent quality. "Trust me when I say this girl, you do not want to get o the bad side of an individual who has formed who you are today."
He dug his fingers into her cheeks before slowly letting do, drawing his burgundy cape around himself and turning around as swiftly as possible. As fast as Poggle had left, the Count opened the door and proceeded out of the building, not making any noise as he walked and letting the door factory doors slam shut behind him.
She could still hear the slam after a minute, feeling the vibrations ring quietly in her eardrums as the silence became all-too overwhelming. Once she heard the clock on the wall ticking slowly and the sound of feet shuffling softly on the floor, she suddenly remembered that she was not the only one standing in the room.
Awkwardly, she turned back to look at the General, keeping her arms crossed protectively around herself. She wasn't quite sure what her facial expression signified, but whatever it was, the way the General looked at her had made her realize that she was shaken up. Her cheeks were still apple red and burning hot from the pressure the Count had applied to her face, yet all she could muster to show was a lip she had bitten clean though. She rubbed her tired eyes and heaved a great sigh before removing her hands from her scorching face.
"I'm not sure what's burning me more, Dooku's iron grasp or your gaze." She tried adding humor to the situation like they habitually tended to do when Dooku became irrational, but it now seemed to be the wrong time to do so. She could sense the General was feeling rather uneasy, and even with Dooku gone the Count always managed to leave a miasma feeling cold and sinister, as if he had left a little bit of his presence in the room.
She lifted her contemplation off the ground and looked Grievous in the eyes.
"Let's just ignore that happened, alright?" she asked, feeling chagrin deep inside. "There are better things to worry about." The General gave one sharp affirmation, much to her relief. He had much better things to ponder over than the estranged connection between her and Dooku. He had helped her in a situation once, which, in her opinion, was enough.
"Why don't I plot out how the fleet is to be organized," Grievous questioned rhetorically. "I'm going to have to go and count—or maybe guesstimate—how many ships we're guiding, as well as looking for replicas and similar models."
The Commander was relieved to take her mind off subjective issues and focus on her profession, instead.
"Good idea," she responded coolly. "I'll talk with the pilots and the engineers. I can figure out a way to distribute the swarm to their rightful ships. I'm sure most of them would be able to fit in those cruisers with the ion cannons. Poggle hasn't given us much to work with, so we're going to have to be both hasty and precise."
She was rewarded with yet another affirmation. "Those ships are beyond notable," he stated, impressed. "I'm not sure if I've seen too many ships of such superior size and quality."
"They're certainly eminent," she agreed. "I wonder if- "
Before she could say another word, the sound of a blasting gunfire rang from outside. It was the loudest volley she had ever heard from a firearm, and it left a trembling, ringing sensation in her ears. All she could muster to let free from her shaking lips was a sharp gasp before she ignited her lightsabers and ran out of the Factory as fast as she could. Bursting out with the General promptly beside her into the canyon under a golden sky, dappled with the qualities of an orange veil. She saw an immense throng of Geonosians gathering into one conglomerate, surrounding a particular wall of the canyon like what she had seen in a Neimoidian amphitheater.
"There's blood on the escarpment," Grievous said, startled.
What else does he see? She pondered. He towers above everybody else here.
In one swift motion she bound onto the canyon floor with a painful crunch of gravel embedding into her soles as she ran toward the crowd.
"What has happened!?" she cried out, attempting to push herself through. Parting ways for her, she raised her sabers above her head and proceeded forward, ignoring the throbbing pains she felt in her feet and head as she finally made her way to the front of the tumultuous crowd. There, like what Grievous had told her, was blood splattered on the wall and on the substrate. Lying amidst the corporal fluids lay, much to her horror, a Clone, his head decapitated away from his body and his limbs severely contorted.
She found herself unable to speak for a moment before she turned back to the crowd, pointing at the opposing side's soldier. "How did this happen?" she demanded. "Where did he come from? There is no way this was just the work of one blaster rifle!"
In an instant, the crowd parted again and there stood a tall Geonosian swaddled in light blue—a pilot…or that's what he appeared to be from the attire descriptions Poggle had given her. Remaining stoic and professional, he bent his right arm upwards and revealed he was indeed possessing some kind of rifle, yet one Ventress had never behold before. With a deep blue, metallic gloss and a nice luster, it was the most well-crafted firearm she had ever seen…and of course it was the creation of the Geonosians.
"It was I who saw and got him, Commander," he replied, phlegmatic about the situation. "Me and a comrade saw a little shape standing over the rim of the canyon. It looked as small as an ant from our perspective, yet when I scoped it out with my sniper, it was, lo and behold, a solo Clone, loading his pistol. With instinct, I shot him, but not before scoping around to see if there were others."
The Commander still stood in her spot, motionless. "So you're a sniper."
"Yes, Commander."
"Then that means…" she shot a look back at the malformed body. "How long until the other crewman are here?" she demanded.
The sniper didn't respond to her question right away, before The General came running toward them in great strides before he took one impressive, long leap over the crowd, their eyes following his soaring body as he landed with a terrific thud next to Ventress, sending shrapnel and orange dust cascading around them. He took one guise at the Clone's body and turned his attention back to the sniper.
"Show-off," Ventress mumbled quietly to herself.
The Sniper finally broke out of his imperturbable phase and gazed at the General in disbelief, in stunned silence.
"Well?" the General grilled, growing tetchy. "Answer the question. When will they be here? We don't have any time left to stand around!"
"P-P-Poggle said they'd be here in close to an hour, s-sir."
The General sighed and rubbed his temples against his forehead. "Well then, get a move on! We must leave here the hour they arrive!"
With a final salute and a shout for victory, the crowd disbanded and began to scuffle around, working twice as fast as they had when she and the General had arrived. Before the Commander could head off to do the work she sought to complete, Grievous suddenly raised his right arm into the air, holding it as still as a marble resin statue.
Tilting her head and raising an eyebrow, the Commander stood stoically next to him, wondering what he had to say. It was only a matter of moments the Geonosians saw his gesture did they halt their operations and stand facing him, most likely wondering what he could possible want after ordering them to work faster.
Once he saw he had their attention, he placed his hands behind his back and began to stride, slowly, looking at them all in the same manner he had looked at the Separatist council the day Ventress had first seen him.
"Listen here, everybody," he announced. "Even with the insufficient amount of time we have, you need to pay attention to me for a few minutes."
Seeing a strange, playful glint in his eye, Ventress eagerly listened in. The General stood his full, imposing height and declared:
"I have got a plan."
