Chapter Twenty Five
A/N: Well, this is my longest chapter for this story, and I must say the ramifications are truly astounding. Only a few more to go before the saga is changed and the Republic will experience an event unlike anything it has seen before. Time for MacGrath to shine once more! 16,000 hits? Wow!
J'on Sladezer had returned to Alderaan to finish his home, the building materials he had personally bought easy enough for someone of his stature to wield. The Jawa had recently picked up the slave he had lived with for the longest time, freeing her from her corrupt masters back on the planet of Tatooine. Sure, there had been a trail of bodies all across the compound they called home, but the bonus of freeing her was that Jabba the Hutt himself had paid him handsomely for getting rid of the upstart competition. As luck would have it, he met an interesting person while walking through the newly-finished headquarters.
"Well Krakni," he said, sitting in a chair opposite from the human, his feet dangling in the air. "I must say your proposal is very interesting, but what's in it for me?" The Jawa almost never did anyone a favor unless there was something in it for him, whether it was credits, a debt or even subservience. There were only two in the galaxy he would do things for out of the kindness of his heart or out of a sense of loyalty: his sweetheart, a pink-skinned Twi'lek or Cole MacGrath, the man who had earned his undying respect. Or children: he had a soft spot for children.
The human clasped his hands behind his back. "In exchange for this partnership, I will finance your endeavors and assist you in anything you require. All I ask is that you help me ascend to the throne of my planet. It was wrongly taken from me by my older cousin and I am determined to have it back under my father's name." It made no sense telling the Jawa the whole truth, about how he had been expelled from the family after making several moves for the thrown when he was younger. Hardness had settled in his heart after years of exile, and he fully intended to make the planet his: the prodigal son's return, indeed.
"Well, aren't we an ambitious little hawk-bat?" J'on chuckled, forming a steeple with his diminutive hands: his yellow eyes shone out from under the darkness of his hood. "Overthrowing your planet's king, your own cousin, just to become its ruler? I love it: consider it a deal." With that, they shook hands and departed.
Krakni waited until the Jawa left before calling in another cohort, a Pau'an.
"Another has joined our group," he said. "How many does that make, Koza?"
The shining Pau'an smiled in an unpleasant way. "Around four so far, including you and me. I have the utmost confidence we can continue to grow as more Conduits join the Order."
"We will be the leaders of a glorious new age," Krakni said, smiling. "We will bide our time for now, but it will happen."
Meanwhile, over the planet of Mustafar...
Anakin and Obi-wan stood aboard their ship, looking down on the volcanic planet below. The asteroids were obscuring the fleet surrounding the planet, but soon enough the Republic would win the final blow. All around the galaxy droid forces were on the run, often being destroyed in numbers they could not replace.
"We move on my command," Obi-wan said. Anakin nodded and dismissed himself, making his way to the hangar.
"Alright boys, mount up!" he called to his clone pilots. With shouts from throughout the hangar echoing his sentiment, the troops boarded their fighters and prepared for battle.
Obi-wan's voice broadcasted over the loudspeakers; "All forces, commence the attack". With a shuddering movement the ship lurched forward and out of the asteroid field. With the attack underway Anakin launched his fighter, closely followed by dozens more. The battle for Mustafar had begun.
Meanwhile, on the planet's surface...
Wat Tambor and Nute Gunray were nearly at each other's throats. "I'm telling you, we need to evacuate!" the Neimoidian cried, wringing his hands together. "We'll be captured for sure!"
The Skakoan rumbled in his suit. "I have a personal guarantee a large fleet is on its way to relieve us," he said, fiddling with the knobs on his chest plate.
"We have no large fleets left!" Gunray shouted. Poggle the Lesser and his minion Gizor Delso were conversing by themselves.
"We should wait for the fleet," the warbling alien said. Several others called out in agreement.
"Nobody asked you, you overgrown bug!" shouted Gunray, losing his nerve all together.
"Silence you giant frog!" the Geonosian replied, infuriated at the insult. Everyone started to rise, threatening the others and calling out insults.
San Hill stood up, trying to calm everyone down. "Gentlemen, we must have faith. If the fleet does not arrive soon, we will evacuate." There was a grumbling amongst the others, but everyone seemed to calm down. At least until an explosion rocked the outside landing pad, followed closely by the sounds of blaster bolts striking the building.
"And there goes the shuttle," Rune Haako muttered. The Separatist Council all looked up at one another: there could be no retreat. The war was lost for them.
Meanwhile, on another side of the planet...
Asajj Ventress and Savage Oppress had been chafing under the thumb of the Separatists for too long. The recent massacre of a large portion of Dathomir's people under Nute Gunray and San Hill had pushed them over the edge.
"This is no longer our war," Asajj said as she and her companion entered a stealth fighter. "From now on, we fight for ourselves."
"Agreed," the towering Nightbrother said. "What will we do?"
"The galaxy is a large place," she replied, closing the hatch behind her. "There is always work available to people of our talents."
"Well, at least life won't get boring," Savage said, smirking as the ship rose into the atmosphere. The southern hemisphere's atmosphere was seeing the least amount of fighting, so they easily made it past the battling fleets.
"Here we go," Asajj said. With the activation of the hyperdrive, the two Dark-siders left behind the Separatist cause and disappeared into the galaxy.
Meanwhile, in the space above Mustafar...
Anakin blasted a trio of droid starfighters bent on aiming for the bridge of his ship. The resulting explosions peppered the skies with shrapnel and metal scrap. "The droid forces are nearly destroyed," he spoke into his comm. "Time to take the planet." A hail of chatter erupted over his comms, including the orders for orbital bombardment and assaulting the base. Back on the leading ship, Kenobi arrived in the hangar.
"Here we go," Kenobi said as he entered the lead gunship. With a rumble it took off, followed by dozens more. In the space all around Mustafar hundreds of gunships launched into space, headed for the planet below.
This would be it; the final major battle of the Clone Wars.
Back inside the Separatist stronghold...
"There is no hope for you," the hologram of Lord Sidious spoke to the gathered council. "I will do everything in my power to see you are not executed. We can always try again."
"There won't be a next time!" Gunray exclaimed as the hologram winked out. "We are doomed!"
"Activate the defenses," Gizor Delso warbled into his comm. Throughout the building a rumble of machinery signaled the final stand of the Separatists. Droid upon droid emerged from the base, taking up defensive positions behind the walls. From hidden hatches emerged artillery, anti-aircraft guns and hundreds of automated turrets. Off in the distance a massive force of clones, armor and gunships were approaching from all sides. There would be no escape for the Separatist leaders.
The opening salvo from the Republic artillery splashed boiling magma all over the defenses. Droids melted where they stood, the circuitry frying from the heat. The artillery guarding the base opened fire in return. Kenobi and Skywalker led the advance, with dozens of gunships flying low for support. "Take out those cannons," Kenobi called into his comm, signaling the three closest ships in orbit.
Up in the lead ship, a Chiss responded. "Yes, sir," replied Thrawn. Soon enough bolts of lightning and blaster cannon fire rained down from the ash-choked skies. Explosions rocked the stronghold as artillery and anti-air guns were blasted into nothingness.
"Advance!" shouted Anakin, raising his lightsaber. All around him a great cheer rose from his troops like thunder. They all rushed forward, blasting at the base with relentless precision. Gunships flew overhead, blasting more droids into nothingness. The fighting became close-quartered and fierce, often with pockets of droids being further splintered until they were eliminated. Soon enough the clones drew their Amps and slashed through the droids, cutting them apart piece by piece. Explosions rocked the fortress as the artillery pounded entrances open, revealing the interior of the enemy base. Inside the council room, the leaders could only watch in horror as the cameras viewing the outside of the base went offline.
"Republic troops have entered the base," a droid voice emanated from the loudspeakers. "Republic troops have-," the transmission was cut off. A pair of bright blue lights pierced the final door between the Separatists and the outside world. With a spinning motion the two beams cut a circle through the door. The metal fell over and revealed generals Skywalker and Kenobi backed up by an absolutely crammed hallway of clones. The other doors surrounding the room opened, revealing more and more clones. Dozens of blasters, both normal and electric, rose at the sight of the Separatist leaders, each leader aimed at by at least eight rifles. Anakin and Obi-Wan stepped forward, their lightsabers pointing at the council. "Do you surrender?" they said in unison.
The Separatist Council slowly raised their hands. "We surrender," San Hill said. The war was over.
Meanwhile, back on Coruscant...
Cole was seated inside Padme's meeting room, facing not only the Naboo senator but Mon Mothma, Garm Bel Iblis and Bail Organa. "So we are in consensus, then?" Cole asked. The Chandrillan and Corellian senators looked at each other, each aware of the stakes.
"You and the Jedi will have our support," Garm said. "We have long feared the reach of Palpatine, but this evidence only confirms it."
"Alderaan and her allies will side with you as well," Bail Organa added. "We also have found an unusual ally with Duchess Satine of the Mandalorians and their allies as well."
Cole turned to Padme. "What about Naboo?" he asked, clasping his hands in his lap.
"The people of Naboo never really supported Palpatine, even though he is from our world," she said. "Ever since his rise in politics and the turmoil following whim wherever he went, the people have never been his biggest supporters. This new evidence has convinced me he intends ill for freedom and democracy across the galaxy. The Rodians, Wookiees and Pantorans have our backs along with countless other species, though the Mon Calamari and Quarren will take a bit more convincing: they still have a bit of a mess to clean up on their own planet."
"That still leaves us with a large and vocal minority," Cole said, rubbing his chin in thought. "Will others ally with us?"
Mon Mothma nodded her head. "We can convince some, but the evidence will have to be much more concrete. If we could find evidence of him doing something more than sponsoring terrorism, then more would see the fallacies of his promises and turn on him."
A beep emanated from Cole's comlink. "Excuse me; I need to take this," he said. Activating it, he saw the image of Master Windu appear.
"The Separatist leaders have been captured," he said, sending a shock throughout the entire room. "They are already confessing it was Lord Sidious who arranged the whole war with promises of power and wealth."
"Maybe Palpatine can tell us who Sidious might be," Cole said. "Grievous did say he say the Sith Lord was high in the Senate's power base: perhaps they have been in contact with each other."
"We will ask him that when we arrive to force his resignation from power," Windu said. "Meet us there within the hour. We have already informed the Senate of what has happened; we will confront him in the central chamber with your clone legion."
As he left, Cole felt a sense of unease. The Jedi had been strung throughout the galaxy, dwindling both in number and in forces when they were called to another front. Palpatine had been a vocal supporter of their involvement in leading the troops, but exactly why had never been clear. Now, on the eve of the war, the thing bothering him the most was not what the enemy could have done, but what his allies could be about to do. He had never trusted Palpatine and the news in the warehouse had only confirmed his suspicions. Now he realized the clones were loyal to both the Republic and the chancellor, and if one fell the other would still survive. Palpatine was in no discernible danger, but the Republic had come close to collapse: too close. The only ones capable of removing a power-hungry man from the position of chancellorship were the Jedi, as Cole's Order was far too small and held very little influence.
Cole pulled out his comlink and connected it to every available Jedi in the galaxy, his message clear. In his time amongst the clones he had learned every available order they could act upon, but one stood out as something horrible: sixty-six. There was no way Palpatine would let the Jedi remove him from office. The only way to stop them would be to remove them from his plans entirely, but what those plans were was entirely unclear. His plan hinged upon the delivery of his message throughout the galaxy before this possible order could be enacted. So his comlink was linked to every Jedi and clone commander in the galaxy. He knew the command would be considered treasonous if his suspicions were proven false, but in the one time he met the chancellor, his radar pulse had not shown him to be a true ally: he had been a sort of bluish red, as if the real color of his allegiance was hidden underneath. All across every front his own message was broadcast, reaching the ears of every military personnel. In all of the most life-changing words the galaxy had ever known, the three he spoke were perhaps the most influential of all time.
"Execute Order Sixty-Five." He listened to a quick flurry of affirmatives and acknowledgements of the order, then shut it off with a finality unseen by all but himself. The galaxy had changed in that instant in a way nobody could have possibly foreseen.
Meanwhile, in Supreme Chancellor Palpatine's office...
Lord Sidious, AKA Supreme Chancellor Palpatine of the Galactic Republic, was not happy. The Jedi were not extinguished and he sensed his power would soon be stripped away. The grumblings of the Jedi and certain senators against his term extensions and power increases were evidence enough they would soon make a move against him. That Cole MacGrath would likely lead the overthrow: he had never liked the chancellor and the feeling had been mutual almost from the beginning. Centuries of planning and preparation by the Sith and decades of his life spent bring The Plan to fruition, undone by a human light socket; the Force was surely laughing at him.
"I will not let it end this way," he muttered. His master Plagueis and countless Sith before him had not engineered the galaxy to arrive at this moment to trip at the finish line. Opening his comlink and dialing a number very few people outside of the Republic Army had access to, he soon saw the image of Commander Cody on the planet Mustafar, the ash behind him obscuring the fallen stronghold of the Separatist leaders. He would be sure to destroy that building completely after his order was carried out: he had no need to be reminded of a failure so great it changed the galaxy.
"Commander, it is time; execute order-," he was cut off by a curt reply.
"No, chancellor; I no longer take any orders from you," the clone said. Palpatine didn't respond for a second, so great was his shock and confusion. Did a clone just...disobey him? They were the epitome of loyalty and obedience, and yet this one had refused, no, interrupted a direct order?
Palpatine's fury rose like a wave: he should crush the throat of that insignificant clone! "What do you mean? I am the supreme chancellor of the Republic. I am the head of the entire Republic military! I command you to execute Order 66!" There, that should get that clone back on track, or Palpatine would be certain to execute that clone's whole regiment as a show of force.
"We recently received our new order: executive order sixty-five," the clone responded, causing a chill to run up Palpatine's spine. "As our order dictates, you are to be removed from office and imprisoned for crimes against the Republic, awaiting a trial and likely execution." With that the call ended, causing the room to fall silent.
The supreme chancellor just sat there for a minute, no knowing how to respond. His entire plan had just been destroyed with one call to one insignificant clone. Suddenly, and in a great fury, Palpatine threw his comlink against the wall, shattering it to pieces. He jumped up and began pacing; his mind a flurry of thoughts and confused aggression. How could this have possibly happened? How did that clone receive that order? Was it like this all across the galaxy? Only a few even knew of its existence and only a general deeply committed to his troops could have known that particular phrase...
Palpatine stood straight up, the shock nearly causing him to explode with rage. It was MacGrath! Only he, the most knowledgeable and connected to his troops would have learned of that order! Only he, of all the people the chancellor had met, had never truly trusted him or been completely blind to his machinations! By the Force, Lord Sidious had been outplayed in a move not even the most gifted Force-user could have foreseen!
Mas Amedda had entered the room timidly at the sound of the smashing comlink. "Are you all right, sir?" he asked. His master's temper tantrums were few and far between, but when they did happen he always felt he would be the first to be on the receiving end of that wrath.
Palpatine rounded on his assistant, his anger threatening to override his barely-retained control. "Call a session in the Senate; I have been betrayed and I will see the traitors suffer!" With a weak reply the Twi'lek bowed out of the room and contacted everyone on his comm channel. The Senate was already coming together, but this summoning was sure to ignite a firestorm of controversy.
Meanwhile, back in the bowels of the Jedi Temple...
Cole had been contacted by Shaak Ti about something Grievous mentioned and had made an unscheduled stop in the basement, carefully slipping by any and all personnel between him and the duo. As he walked up, he noticed a slight alteration to the room: something akin to an operating table sat in the middle.
"Ah, General MacGrath," Grievous said, coughing a bit. "I was wondering when I would see you again."
"What is it you want?" Cole asked, not sure why the cyborg even wanted to see him. The war was pretty much over and there was no more use for Grievous in the military sense. He would likely be eventually executed for his crimes: many had the means to make it happen and many more wanted to see him gone.
"I heard of your rescue of Skywalker's mother and her subsequent recovery," Grievous said. "I wish to know if you could find it in your heart to try and do the same for me." Even for a killer cyborg, he looked rather pitiful in his current state.
Cole felt his anger at the mechanical monstrosity falter. He was asking to be healed? "Why do you wish for this?" Cole asked. "When undamaged you are a most formidable opponent to anyone. Your prowess, though infamous, is legendary." Ha: infamous. Now there was a word he hadn't heard in a long, long time.
Grievous let out a laugh, sounding horrid through his mechanical mask. "And what has that prowess brought me? Nothing but pain and suffering; I am feared throughout the galaxy by those I have never met and the stigma of being evil is one I find insulting. I was a warrior from birth so that I may defend my world, from enemies both within and out." He let out another cough, more violently this time. "I was destroyed so that I could be rebuilt in the image of a Sith puppet. I lost everything I ever cared for and no amount of military prowess can make up for what I no longer have. So I ask you again: will you help me?" He lay back on the table, his organs pulsing within his synthetic organ sack.
"I will do what I can," Cole said after a few moments of silence. "But first I will need to remove most of your armor: my powers cannot fuse flesh and steel, and I believe if they did it would be most painful indeed."
"Then take it away," Grievous said, closing his eyes and looking away. Cole and Shaak Ti began to remove the metal plates from his chest, further exposing the frail organs underneath. With a set of tools Shaak Ti removed the damaged wiring from his empty arm sockets, leaving the cyborg completely armless.
"Shaak Ti," Grievous whispered. "Please remove my mask." He actually opened his eyes to look into hers, and she could see he truly wanted this. Gingerly the Jedi master removed the feared mask, revealing something unexpected. A pale, mottled face peered out from under the metal, the yellow reptilian eyes holding the only remaining spark of life.
"Here goes nothing," Cole said, pumping several volts into his hands. With slow and deliberate motions he moved his hands over the organs of the former general. As if by magic the skin on the face of Grievous began to grow and regain color. Bones began to reform around the organs from the remaining chips, the ribs poking into sight as the fragments stretched and grew. Soon muscle and tendons began growing over the exposed internal aspects of the cyborg's anatomy, with skin soon growing after. The problem lay with his arms and legs. No matter how much energy Cole put into those areas, flesh and bone refused to reappear: it would seem there was no remnant for his to heal. The part of his back not exposed to the air continued to heal, but the metal serving as a support for his spine seemed to fuse with the bone.
Cole stopped and looked down on his handiwork. Where the general had been only twenty percent living tissue, there was now a torso, neck and head, all encompassed by a framework of metal. Grievous opened his eyes and for the first time he could remember, his mouth. He gasped as the air rushed through an intact trachea and entered his healed lungs, resulting in no coughing like before.
"My arms," he muttered, sitting up and looking and the metallic stumps. "They could not be remade, I suppose?"
"I'm not a miracle worker," Cole said. "If there is no remnant, my powers don't seem to work."
"It is for the best, I suppose," Grievous said. He looked down at his legs and sighed. "At least I have more of me than before." With an unsteady drop he stood up and breathed in deeply. "Thank you, MacGrath, for giving back as much of me as you could," Grievous said, the gratefulness seeping into every word he uttered.
"It was nothing," Cole replied, gingerly patting the cyborg on the shoulder: he didn't know what else to do in the situation. "Shaak Ti, could you look after him for me? I have somewhere else to go," Cole said.
"I would be glad to," she replied. With that Cole left the room and headed outside, jumping and flying off towards the senate building.