NB: As of Chapter 33: Star Wars - R - English - Angst/Drama - Chapters: 33 - Words: 140027 (Bloody Hell!!)- Reviews: 209 - Updated: 11-6-04 - Published: 1-25-03
(Stupidly Long) Author's Notes: Whoops… I didn't mean to be antisocial last chapter and not reply to all your reviews, I just forgot! I'll make up for it here.And, my God, would you believe that "Eclipse" has topped 200 reviews?! Wow - I bow down at your feet, readers - how on Earth have you managed to keep reading this long? Heh - thank you so much, I couldn't have got this far without you!
I wanted to wait to publish this chapter because I wanted to do the impossible and publish not two, not three, but four chapters all at once! But… well, I had to make do with three because the fourth one's proving problematic. I spent four hours last night and another three this morning perfecting these, so I hope they're all right. Anyway this can be my Christmas present to you all - Merry Christmas! - but you have permission to 'unwrap' this one before Xmas morning! Things are getting... 'messy'... in the story now. If that's the right word. It looks tame after what's gone before, though. ;) Heh.
And, on a side note, I fell into a plot hole in my last chapter, so, please note, Chandrilla is overrun by the Commerce Guild, whilst Yavin is overrun by the Corporate Alliance. Sorry about that! I guess some of you might not have noticed the change anyway, but I thought I ought to let you know.
Voldemort8: Well, it's refreshing to pick up some new readers at this late stage! I'm glad you found my story compelling enough to read it all through so far. Incidentally, if you've found any plot holes or inconsistencies along the way, let me know! I do sometimes forget what I've written, I've been going for so long now. "Eclipse" will be two years old in January, believe it or not.
Kathy: Thank you, as ever. I appreciate the support!
Capricorn Lamia: Wow, another new reader! And thank you for your comment - I'm so glad my twisted tale's proving to entertain you. As far as Episode III influences go, I'm trying not to incorporate much of it - Grievous is my allowance, but I really want to get this all done before RotS is released. It's going to be my own, alternate bridge between AotC and aNH.
Silverwolf47: I never intended to use Piett, but he just popped into my head at that moment and I thought 'why not?' Glad you liked his 'cameo'. Watch out for a few more in future.
Kynstar: My thanks for your further support. People seem to be enjoying Grievous - that's great! I'm glad I added him. We won't be seeing poor Anakin for a while, but you might not feel very merciful toward him when we do finally come across him again. --drops hint accidentally-- Oops.
Padawanmage: Ugh… my mistake on the last chapter! I meant to put those two scenes in reverse order. God knows how I managed that cock-up. I concentrate too much on grammar and spellings and what-not sometimes, when I read through, and forget what I'm actually reading! Thanks for spotting that - no one else did. And you got the offending craft at Chandrilla in one. Well done.
Audreidi: Long term planner? Yeah, yeah, I'm… a …a very good long term planner! --looks unsure about that-- Erm… yeah. Anyway, RE: Part 32, Dooku's impudence was there for a reason, and Sidious was almost 'pandering' to it for a reason, too. As regards Part 33, Piett was a last minute addition - my brain's good at occasional randomness. And university's going fine, thanks. It does mean I'm very busy and have less time for "Eclipse" than I'd like, but that's life, right?
Turtleninja: Have we met before? All these reviewers… I feel so privileged! And don't do too much drooling, now. I'm sure there are more constructive things you can do whilst you wait for updates.
Leela74: Thank you! Hope this update is soon enough.
ms8309: Here's your 'more'.
Cmdr. Gabe E: Yours must be the most excitable reviews I get! LOL. I'm glad you noticed the direction Dooku's feelings are taking. It's an important part of the story. Just keep it in mind.
Dark Poetic: Thank you for reading - no need to thank me for updating! Glad you liked the 'Amidala clan' talk with Dooku. I don't know where that came from, but I enjoyed writing it.
Infamous One: It's true stories take on a life of their own - this one sure has! I can't believe how long it is, actually... some novels aren't this long. I hope I can tie it up neatly in the end, though - that's going to be the biggest challenge! I bet I'll forget about someone or something...
Eclipse
Part 34
The committee of Confederacy leaders always seemed to have a jumpy and sycophantic edge about them, Padmé thought, as she again studied them all via hologram on Oovo IX. The circle was smaller than before, San Hill's space being markedly empty, signifying not just his death, but the Banking Clan's flight from Count Dooku's movement. Their loss wasn't anything great to the Separatists by any means, though, and, after their secessionist stint, there'd be little chance of the Republic looking to their services soon, either. The Banking Clan had, in a sense, nullified their part in the war and were consequently no threat to anyone but themselves.
Sat at the head of the table, overlooking his lackeys, was Serenn himself. He had his hand over his mouth and was absent-mindedly running a finger over part of his beard. Meanwhile, the nervy lackeys were all eyeing up the white apparition stood over Dooku's left shoulder, whilst Padmé stood to his right, in an equal state of anxiety. In fact, the Count seemed to be the only one unaffected by the presence of that ghostly monstrosity called Grievous.
After a while, Senator Tikkes made a polite cough and drew Serenn's attention back to the present; eyeing the group over one more time, each assembled round the table via hologram alone, Dooku lowered his hand onto the tabletop and leant forward; "Yes, thank you for your reports," he said quietly, concluding the first half of the session, "And I must congratulate you all so far on the successful initiation of our battle strategies… yet it is not enough." He sat back again, and, wafting a hand casually toward Grievous, said, "You may notice a fellow stood by my shoulder, here."
The gatherings' collective fidgets and shudders all but demonstrated that they couldn't help but notice the deathly horror.
"This is General Grievous," Dooku went on, "A friend of mine."
Grievous' yellow eyes scanned the gathering, his very glance causing each member of the Confederate circle to shrink down into their chairs.
"He will be aiding us on the battle front. His focus will be on the nucleus that currently holds the Republic army together. His focus will be on the Jedi."
Still, the General said nothing. With his appearance setting off such discomfort, there was no need for him to add his voice to the scenario. It would only deepen their fear.
Serenn still seemed relatively uninterested, his eyes betraying to the few astute enough that his mind might be elsewhere; "Continue with current tactics," he drawled on, "I will send the General wherever I see fit. This will be a blow for the Republic. Their war will not soon be over."
Gunray was rubbing his hands together with his usual air of panic - he hated it when new players were placed on the board. He didn't need to be reminded of what happened after Lord Sidious threw Darth Maul into play, over a decade ago. He prayed the same doom wouldn't follow this General Grievous around. More than that, even, he prayed that he would not have to host the white abomination.
"Any questions?" Serenn added after a long, lethargic pause.
The group seemed eager to escape the creature's presence, and no one raised their voice.
Serenn gave them a moment, his brow rising ever so steadily, until he'd raised it as far as it could go; "No?" he said, looking amongst them.
They looked squirmy, like school children waiting for the home time bell to ring.
The Count shrugged. "Very well. Dismissed, ladies and gentlemen."
The room went dull as all the holograms faded to nothingness. Serenn remained in his chair, his hand returning to his beard for a moment and his mind returning to his thoughts.
Padmé shifted uneasily on her feet and slipped a glance at Grievous, who somehow managed to turn his eyes at precisely the right moment so as to meet hers head on, causing her a further jolt of disquiet.
"General," Serenn said at length.
Grievous turned his eyes from Padmé. "Yes, your grace?" he hissed in his cool, unearthly voice.
Dooku still stared ahead. "As you just heard, the Corporate Alliance have reported that there is a Jedi Master leading the Republic on their front. I know this man shall test your skills, so I shall be sending you to Yavin. You approve?"
The General bowed. "Absolutely, your grace."
"But before you go," Serenn added, "I will talk with you. Alone. In your own time, mind."
Grievous gave Padmé one final glance, his eyes oozing of distaste toward her, before he swept down into another bow. "I shall wait outside, your grace," he said, then was gone.
Padmé remained mute, left alone with the Count in the board room. The silence was intolerable.
"He doesn't like me," she whispered.
"Hmm?" Serenn murmured, his mind still wandering.
"Your General," Padmé continued sternly, walking slowly around the table and taking a seat where Gunray had recently 'sat', "He doesn't like me."
Serenn watched her for a moment, tapping his fingers lightly on the tabletop. "Do you want him to like you?"
Padmé wasn't expecting him to play with her; "Don't be obtuse," she murmured.
He blinked, smirking briefly, before looking away.
"I don't understand," she went on, changing course, "You were once a Jedi, and yet you send this monster out to destroy them. What do you hope to accomplish by all this barbarity?"
The Count continued to stare into a dark corner, fingers still rapping the tabletop; "I was once a Jedi," he nodded slowly, "Yes, indeed. I do seem to remember that they had the choice to side with my movement, yet they chose Palpatine over me." He shrugged lazily. "It is their choice."
Again, the thought crossed Padmé's mind as to how a man of Qui-Gon Jinn's kindly, though reckless, disposition had been borne from the tuition of Count Dooku; "Perhaps they think you are the Sith," she resolved crossly.
A frown creased his brow and he turned his dark eyes upon her. "You think so?" he asked.
She shrugged. "Well, they wouldn't be likely to side with you if they thought that."
He continued to stare. "No, they wouldn't," he agreed, before resuming his silence.
Padmé began to get uncomfortable; "Are we going to go to Alderaan then, or what?"
Serenn sighed and rose from his seat, seeming to ponder on this as though it were of no great magnitude; "Yes, I believe so," he resolved, "General Grievous will soon have made his presence known, then we will surely not be missed." He swept his cloak out behind him and began to pace out of the chamber; Padmé remained where she sat for a moment, thinking carefully.
The Count suddenly halted in the doorway and looked back to the Nubian's solitary figure. "Do you think I'm a Sith Lord, Padmé?" he asked.
Padmé frowned and arched her head about to look at him as he stood silhouetted in the doorway. She dithered for a moment before, shrugging a little, she replied, "I don't know."
"Don't you?" Serenn countered, "You don't know whether I am a Sith Lord or not, or you don't know whether you made the remark in too much haste, or not?"
She glared at him. "A bit of both."
He smirked, but it was an empty one; "I thought so."
Padmé turned away again and sighed, whilst Serenn closed the door behind him and left the room. Outside, he walked across the darkened corridor, traversing the shiny, black metal floor, until he reached Grievous' solitary figure. The Droid General was stood alone, patiently waiting for the Count in the shade. With a nod ahead, Serenn gestured for the General to follow him, and the white spectre did as he was bid.
"She doesn't like me," Grievous said, then chuckled to himself.
"Yes, she has just told me such…" Serenn replied, "At least, in so many words."
"And yet she trusts you."
Dooku shook his head. "I think not."
"She does. I can read humans like books."
Serenn snuffed, then said, "I have not asked you to wait behind merely to discuss Senator Amidala and her peculiarities."
Grievous allowed himself another snigger, before he then assumed a more serious demeanour. "Then speak, Count Dooku," he said.
Serenn clasped his hands at the small of his back. "I can no longer read the Republic as I once could," he confessed, "I do not know where the Sith Master's next move will be."
"And this is of importance?"
"General, if I fall, I want you to continue in my place. Is that understood?"
The General halted and blinked at Dooku, yellow eyes glaring through the darkness. "You cannot read the Republic yet you can read the coming of your own death? What grounds do you have upon which to make this assumption?"
Serenn stared back at him. "Trust me."
Grievous' silence said more than words would have. And Dooku noticed this; "Speak up, General," he insisted, "You have something more to say?"
Grievous' eyes regarded the Count circumspectly. "Yes. I know that you are not telling me something."
"Am I not?"
"You know something," Grievous continued, "You would not prophesise your doom otherwise. I know you, Count Dooku. I fear you forget that."
"You are not here to ask questions."
"No, your grace. Nor are you here to sacrifice yourself."
Dooku's brow arched. "What do you mean by that?"
"You can only predict your doom if you await your own sacrifice," the General elaborated, "You know that you must die. You are not telling me how you know, you are just telling me to be prepared for when you do."
"You are an amazing creature, General."
"You are the leader of an army. You cannot give up. It is weak."
"I am a human. Weakness is a default trait."
"It is weak to give your life up for such a trivial thing. You should never give up just for --."
"Just for what?" Serenn barked.
Grievous blinked slowly, but he did not yield a reply; Serenn could read it in his eyes, though. "Will you not speak now, General?" he murmured.
Grievous continued to stare - neither Serenn's eyes, nor his daunting voice, could make him falter; "There is no need," the General answered, "You know my mind."
Serenn glared at him a moment longer before he nodded in concurrence. "Indeed I do." He turned away and began to pace down the corridor. "I trust you to do my bidding, General. You shall not fail me, regardless of my future choices and fate, now, shall you?" The Count then glanced back over his shoulder, and saw Grievous stood where he had been left, shrouded in darkness.
"I shall not fail you, your grace," the General replied at length, "no matter what you choose to do, or what fate befalls you. I shall honour you in life and - should the situation arise - death also, and I shall wipe the smile from the Republic's face. I shall run their Jedi into the dirt; I shall break their fractured hierarchy, and I shall institute the Confederacy's policies. You have my word, whether or not I have your companionship."
Serenn nodded, satisfied by this little speech. "Thank you, General," he said, before he paused for a moment and thought things over again.
As this moment drew out into nothing but silence, Grievous took it as his key to depart, and was just about to turn and go when, suddenly, Dooku called out, "Oh, and General?"
Grievous turned to Serenn for one final time. "Your grace?"
"There is one more thing," the Count said, "A Jedi, named Master Kenobi…"
And Grievous listened.
---
"First the clone brat, now this."
Boba gave Argente a passing glare, one that might have stun had the magistrate not been immune to it by now.
"Now what?" Boba asked, sat on the floor in the control room of Argente's control ship, whilst the Corporate Alliance's magistrate and his ever-present aide debated recent events.
"'Now what, sir', don't you mean?" Passel countered.
"I mean what I say," Boba rallied.
Argente wafted a hand at him. "I have just received word that we are going to have a visitor."
"Count Dooku?" Boba guessed.
"Don't be absurd."
Young Fett shrugged. "Who then?"
"A General," Purple interjected.
Boba was unimpressed. "General?"
"Yes," Argente continued as his aide nodded vigorously by his side, "A General."
Fett looked between the two and got to his feet. "What's he gonna be doing?"
"Helping the battledroids down on Yavin. If he's as good as I think he is, we should be able to set up camp down there in no time."
Boba rose an eyebrow - things might finally be getting interesting.
---
The fleet at Chandrilla broke up and circled round before they began to gain altitude, heading for the zenith of the great monolith above. As the cloud withered around them, Obi-Wan could see it clearly for the first time - a great, brown pillar of metal, hovering on the largest repulsorlift engines he had ever seen. It seemed to have few gun turrets, and none that would impede the shell of the Republic cruisers, yet something told Obi-Wan that it must have some kind of weapon, some means of 'offence'. He wasn't sure he wanted to hang around to find out what this was, however.
He watched the one man fighters zip ahead and fly over the top of the enemy, and Obi-Wan knew then where he wanted to be; "Get me a fighter," he said.
"There's a craft waiting for you back at the fleet," the captain reported.
Kenobi gave him a cynical look; "It's not much good there, captain."
"Shall I get someone to fly it down here for you, sir?"
Kenobi's look lingered; "Yes, if you would."
Captain saluted, oblivious. "Yessir!"
Obi heaved a great sigh, gripping the handrail above as they encountered a blast of turbulence; he was beginning to miss Jedi companionship already. First there'd been Master Jinn, then young Anakin… and now he was alone, quite alone, with these one-dimensional soldiers.
---
"So, we first find a planet lost from your archives, we then find clones produced from a now deceased bounty hunter on said planet, and we furthermore discover droid foundries on Geonosis. Now, we seem to have gone one step further in this web of absurdity and…aha… lost the Chosen One."
Master Yoda stared up at the ranting Supreme Chancellor who, despite his little laugh, was far from merry. The man looked paler than usual, the strains of office seeming to be taking their toll, and this development in the plot, this 'losing' of Anakin, didn't please him in the slightest.
Palpatine gave himself a moment to calm, then, turning his blue eyes on the diminutive Jedi, he continued, "Whatever next I wonder, Master Yoda?"
Yoda's green eyes looked deep into the Chancellor's; "Blaming the Jedi you are, Chancellor. But our fault far from is this."
The Chancellor's brow knotted. "I beg your pardon?"
"Blaming the Jedi for young Skywalker's loss, you are. But our fault, it is not." Yoda sighed, clasping his tiny hands over the curve of his walking stick; "Not our wish was it for Skywalker to be exiled. Not our doing was it to send him out there."
Palpatine's face went sour quite quickly and he withdrew across his office. "So it is my fault, is it?" he asked plainly, "It's my fault the boy was killed?"
Yoda looked down, knowing full well that Anakin wasn't dead. It was no use telling the Chancellor that, though; he would not believe him unless he saw the boy stood back at his feet. "Your fault, it is not," Yoda went on, selecting his words with care, "But your decision to exile him, it was."
The Chancellor favoured Yoda with another acid look; "Is it my fault that I wanted to be lenient with the lad? Is it my fault that I saved him where he might otherwise have died? Well, it's clearly too late for that now, but my intentions were good, Master Yoda. They were sympathetic." He sighed and clasped his hands nervously at the small of his back; "He'd been through so much. Torn from slavery, I was told, then suddenly raised in a world of formality so different to that which he would have known with his parents, that it must have been quite bewildering." The Chancellor paused, backtracking slightly. "Oh, I'm sorry - I should have said parent. The boy was of quite miraculous birth, was he not?"
Yoda had meanwhile been staring at the floor, listening to the Chancellor's words assiduously and trying to pick the good out from the bad, the ripe from the stale. He found the task impossible, however, for so similar did all his words seem. Yet Yoda could sense a slight discrepancy in them. He couldn't put his finger on the exact nature of this 'irregularity', though.
"Master Yoda?" the Chancellor pushed on as Yoda's reverie continued, unchecked.
Yoda's ears cocked and he glanced back to the Chancellor; "A miraculous boy, he was. Correct you are, Chancellor."
Palpatine's eyes narrowed for but a fraction of a second - so briefly, in fact, that only a Jedi of Yoda's skill would have managed to detect it; "There are those who would have me abandon you, Master Yoda," Palpatine said, "And I say 'you' as meaning the collective of Jedi. Did you know this?"
Yoda left a prolonged pause before he responded again. "Gathered as much, I have," he professed.
Palpatine nodded, "Yes. And I cannot hold off against my democracy forever. If enough people want something, then they will press to have it. There will always be scapegoats. I have no power to change the nature of our sentient races." He turned his back on Yoda and looked out across his dominion. "Good day to you, Master Yoda."
Yoda stared for a moment at the Chancellor's back before he turned and hobbled away.
---
Padmé had been thinking for a long time, sat alone in that board room. By the time she came back to herself, the hour was late and she was utterly alone. The corridors and halls of Grievous' clinical residence were empty, and as she made her way through them, she was accompanied by little but her echo and her overactive imagination. She was hoping she could find her way back to Count Dooku without tripping over this General of his; the Force alone knew where Serenn had picked up that monster - he'd obviously been keeping him hidden, waiting for the perfect moment to play him in this game of war.
After taking turning after turning, and becoming uncomfortably reminded of the labyrinth of Serenn's manor home, she finally found the man himself; he was writing something at a desk in a small office he'd made his own. He didn't look up as she entered, either meaning that he hadn't heard her or chose not to.
She halted right before him and planted her hands out on his desk. "I want to talk to you," she said.
Serenn didn't hurry to finish his sentence, but as soon as he had, he dropped his pen, sat back and made eye contact with her; "Then talk," he said, crossing his legs and folding his hands over his knee.
"There's no structure to your plans," she blurted out, "They seem to me to be an utter waste of time."
"I see."
"And this… 'General' of yours. Seriously, how is he going to help matters? I've no doubt that he'll only make things worse."
The Count glanced at his hands then back to her as she moved round the desk toward him.
"I gave up so much for this cursèd movement," she reminded him, "Can't I please have a say in things?"
He stared at her for a moment then rose to his feet. "Sit," he insisted, gesturing back at his chair whilst he leant back on his desk. Padmé indeed took his seat and then looked up at him.
"Now talk," Serenn went on.
She paused for a minute, wondering where to start; "These tactics," she said, "Unless I'm wrong, how is this progressive 'take and conquer' method going to work? Most of these planets you've sent your armies to are far too dispersed to be of any military advantage, conquered or no."
He nodded slowly.
"Tell me the method in your madness. It's almost as though you want to draw this war out. It'll drain your coffers, if nothing else…"
He rubbed his beard for a moment and stared at the ceiling. "Yes, I see your point," he agreed, "But if you consider the positions of the planets currently under invasion and/or occupation, you shall see a fine noose appearing. One I will tighten in time."
Padmé sat back in the comfy chair and drew her knees up to her chest. "You know how long that will take?"
"I do indeed."
There was a pregnant pause.
"Why?" Padmé asked at length, "Why go for such a roundabout tactic?"
Serenn cleared the desk behind him and hoisted himself onto its edge, letting his legs hang down the front. "Why not?"
"There are other ways."
"Says the pacifist."
"I'm not talking about diplomacy any more!" she snapped, "I can see that we're not going to get anywhere with that."
"Do you, now?"
"Yes."
"What would you suggest, then?"
She paused for a second, chewing on her lip. "I was thinking, maybe…"
Serenn waited on her. "Maybe…?"
"Maybe we should just strike at the heart, all at once? If we take the Chancellor, we can end this war now, before more lives are lost."
A smile steadily rose on Serenn's face. "You know," he said, "I never thought, until this moment, that you truly were the same person as the audacious Queen, who struck back at the heart of the Federation's blockade on Naboo, those ten years ago - and won against outrageous odds, might I add." He favoured her with a charming glance. "I can see now that it was indeed you."
Padmé had to lower her head - she didn't know why, but she felt flattered somewhat by his comment.
"So," Serenn went on, breaking the uneasy lull, "You'd have me gather all my forces, leave my outer garrisons relatively unprotected - those that I have so far, at least - and take a risky shot at usurping the Chancellor from the capital, the hub of the Republic's territory?"
She blinked as he made eye contact again and just shrugged. "Why not?"
He laughed now, but in a nice way, a way she hadn't heard him laugh before; "'Why not', indeed?" he countered mildly, folding his arms and biting down on his lip as he thought it all over.
She sighed, presuming that he wasn't going to take her seriously; "I knew I'd be wasting my breath on you," she muttered. She got up and made to leave, but suddenly, his hand took a hold of her arm before she could walk away. She looked at him uncertainly, but did not resist, as he drew her closer and rotated her so that she squarely faced him.
"So, you are going?" he asked her.
She frowned, confused. "Yes…?" she said, not sure whether she was questioning him or herself.
"But with no word?"
Padmé thought that this was strange talk, even on Dooku's part; "Do you want one?" she asked, perplexed.
"Just a notification of your intention to depart would be polite," he said.
She smiled a little, shaking her head at this eccentric conduct.
"How is your shoulder?" he then asked quietly, running his hand up to where he had not long ago inflicted the savage wound.
Padmé had almost forgotten about it, if she were honest; "It's fine," she said, regarding his hand cagily and finding that her voice was catching in her throat, stumbling over unseen obstacles.
He nodded again, looking downward, but didn't seem about to let her go.
She made another quiet sigh and gently peeled his hand from her arm, noticing, as she moved it away, that the gash recently inflicted there was healing well; "That looks better," she said without thinking.
The look he next gave her told her that he was surprised she'd care to make such a remark, and Padmé was surprised, too. She shook her head as she felt her cheeks flush and dropped his hand by his side. "Sorry," she muttered.
"For what?"
"Nothing…" she said. His brown eyes had that smouldering look about them now, one Padmé wished they hadn't. She felt as though drawn into a trance, and despite the fact that she could feel his hand as it came to rest on her hip, she didn't think about it, nor did she think about it as he further drew her closer to him and held her lightly between his knees, her legs brushing intimately against his inner thighs.
She stared into his face for a while, letting her eyes wander and take in all the features of his visage, until, slowly but surely, she began to raise her hand, stretching it tentatively out toward him…
But there was then a sudden creak from the doorway.
Swiftly, both Serenn and Padmé recoiled from one another and, eyes darting, fixed their gazes on the intruder. Grievous now stood there, across the threshold, silhouetted with a thin film of light, his catlike eyes shining down on them through the darkness.
Reality fell back with a dull clunk, and Padmé glanced at Dooku, before then she backed away from him, hanging her head, and rushed out of the room, past Grievous.
Grievous watched her go then glared at the Count.
Dooku heaved a sigh and, sliding off the desk, turned to the General with a raised hand. "Don't say anything," he growled, "I damn well know it was wrong."
Grievous drew a mechanical, inward breath, then turned and left.
---
Back in the skies above Chandrilla, Kenobi's ship finally reached the Republic cruiser. Obi-Wan exchanged places with the pilot, vaulting into his craft, before setting off at speed for the great ship of the Commerce Guild, now hovering just below. He thrust his headset onto his mantle and set his blue eyes on this oversized 'thing', his enemy. He had no idea how he'd topple this beast, but all things had a weakness.
Swerving the steering vane to the left, he took his craft in a sweeping arc by the vessel's flank.
Glancing out of the cockpit, he watched as endless amounts of his own fighter pilots took runs at the ship, let loose tremendous volleys of fire, only to find themselves making little more than a slight dent on its surface. The thick metal hide of the monster was impenetrable, so far as Obi could tell - at least, by laser fire.
His eyes sparkled - perhaps not by laser fire, but there was always a superior weapon. And it hung by his side.
"Captain," he spoke into his headset.
"Yessir?"
"I need as many men as possible to draw fire away from this thing's southern side. I've got a plan."
"Right, general. I'll do my best"
Kenobi nodded. "You do that, captain."
---
There was no wind out on the landing platforms of Oovo IX. (There wouldn't even be an atmosphere if man - and various other species - hadn't chosen to settle there; but that was another story.) Therefore, Grievous' cloak did not flutter in any breeze as he stared up into the cosmos; there were no clouds in the sky to hinder any sun, nor any sun to hinder his vision. The General liked artificial life. It was convenient.
"Count Dooku," he said, knowing the man was now stood behind him.
"General."
"I was not under the impression I would see you again before I left."
Dooku did not answer straight away.
"Watch your step, Count Dooku," Grievous added shrewdly, "Do not let your emotions rule you."
"Oh, they have too long held precedence in my mind, General. It is too late to change that."
Grievous blinked, watching a shuttle descend from the heavens, coming to take him to his flagship.
The Count took a step closer to the spectre. "Remember what I have said to you, General," he added.
It didn't sound like a warning on the outside, but Grievous heard the threat, the command, the 'or else' connotations. "And will you remember what I have said to you, your grace?" he rallied.
"My mind is made up."
The droid General turned on well oiled hinges and blinked his yellow eyes at the elderly human male; "As I have seen. Then you are as weak as the rest of your human brethren."
Dooku wasn't affronted. "I know I am," he agreed quietly.
Grievous nodded. "Very well, then. I shall not try to dissuade you." He held out his thin, skeletal hand to the Count and, as Dooku placed his hand back into his grasp, the droid tightened his fingers round the man's flesh. "I should say 'may the Force be with you', Count," the General went on, shaking hands, "But I know that it will fail you."
"All's fair in love and war," Dooku replied with his usual air of mystery, withdrawing his hand and stepping back.
"Is it?" Grievous pondered, bowing to the Count one last time as the shuttle landed behind him and lowered its ramp, "I would not know about that." He then turned, entered the ship, and disappeared. The shuttle soon took off again and flew away into the cosmos, the white spectre unleashed unto the universe…
TBC…