General Grievous sat by his desk, moving holograms representing the various CIS ships to one place, and then hurriedly moving them somewhere else. Something had happened, and he didn't like what was going on. He had been set go to Mustafar earlier that day, to join his Separatist allies and to be introduced by Darth Sideous' accomplice Darth Vader, who was to be there to spear head the Separatist operation after the tragic death of Dooku. Grievous smiled to himself. At least getting rid of Dooku got him one step closer to leadership of the CIS, but the damned Nute Gunray had taken the leadership role.
But then something had happened. He had received a transmission from a panicky Nute Gunray with strict orders not to take the trip to Mustafar. It was then that lightsaber clashes had been heard, and the transmission ended with a scream that could only belong to Nute. Without a doubt, Grievous could very well be the last remaining Separatist, apart from Lord Sideous and Vader of course.
Grievous knew that he needed to speak with the CIS benefactor, but that was impossible as he had never been considered important enough to be allowed a private channel with him. He needed to let Sideous contact him first.
Grievous sighed; his breathing had got even harder since the battle with the foul Jedi Kenobi. Grievous still thought that the Jedi were alive. Since the battle, he had considered himself dishonoured, and had shut himself away on his new ship, the Treachery, and would only work on tactics, he was weakened now to a point that field battle was impossible, but he could still wield his sabers with menace.
He had no idea of the Republic collapsing that was going on outside; all that mattered was that he was victorious in battle. There was no company for him but droids. The rest of the Separatists down to the pilot were in Mustafar, awaiting Vader.
He scratched his fingers into the metal of the desk. As usual, they had considered Grievous unworthy in rank to go. And they needed someone to continue the War. Dump everything on the weakling cyborg, that's all that seemed to be done these days. But Grievous had a scheme in his mind. A scheme that would overturn those pompous Separatist enslavers, and destroy the cruel Republic which had sided against his enemies. Then he would be supreme leader of the galaxy.
Of course, if the Neimoidian screams were anything to go buy, someone had done half the job for him.
But scheming for galactic takeover was not what he needed to do now. The Republic fleet were mere parsecs away, as if he needed those damned droids telling him that every hour or so. It was then that a pair of battle droids stepped into the room. Grievous looked up, disturbed. One battle droid, adorned with yellow decoration, a leader, began to speak.
"Lord Grievous-"
What would be it's last words were interrupted by the general's start. He leapt from the chair, and strode over, his yellow eyes gleaming with madness. He towered over the two droids.
"WHAT IS IT THIS TIME! DO YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW THE DANGER WE ARE IN! FOR ONCE BRING ME NEWS THAT IS OF WORTH, YOU USELESS HUNK OF JUNK!"
And in his senile madness, Grievous picked up the battle droid by the neck, and threw it against one of the walls of his office. The battle droid slid down, intact, but several joints bent in ways that had never been designed to do so. Grievous turned to the second, plain droid.
"What is it you want? Or have you simply come to tell me that the enemy are a parsec closer than earlier?"
The droid spoke, and Grievous could have sworn he heard a terrified tentativeness in it.
"Darth Sideous requests a hologram with you, Lord Grievous, he is awaiting in the hologram room-"
The droid had barely finished when it was toppled over as the General brushed past it, already half way down the corridor.
The general walked carefully down the pathway along one of the dirty back alley ways of Coruscant. His face, or more correctly his mask, was masked itself in a grotty robe. Grievous knew that if he was found in this Republic hive, he would be immediately arrested and the war would end.
And galactic dominion would be an impossibility.
Personally, he could not see why it had not occurred to Sideous that Coruscant was such a silly place to go, it was ripe for Grievous to get plucked away. It was almost as if he was asking for Grievous to die, and for the Republic to win.
Sideous, nonetheless, and for what were obviously his own reasons, had instructed the General to speak with him on Coruscant. Business of what would be spoken had not been specified, but it was sure to be business of the Separatist kind. From there, Grievous was to go through a network of back alley ways to come to a 'large building' with the CIS symbol upon it. There he would meet with Sideous, and also the accomplice Darth Vader for the first time. There was something about meeting Vader though that gave Grievous a fearful shiver. After all, his CIS colleagues had been awaiting a meeting with Vader…
Grievous finally came to a cul-de-sac of an alley way, and sure enough, a large building lay before him. It was a blue-grey in the shadows, but sure enough, there was an unmistakeable CIS symbol.
Grievous took a deep breath. This was it. He stepped into the building, and looked forward.
The building turned out to be a single room, but it was near pitch black. However, two figures sat at the very end of the room. No features could be made out of them in this light and distance, but from one came an ominous heavy breathing. Grievous knew the breather was Vader; from the holograms he had seen of Sideous, Sideous was merely a cloaked figure, with no apparent breathing difficulties. The General walked forward, his long strides taking him quickly across the room, minute creaks and clicks as his worn joints moved.
As he moved closer, he was finally able to make out more detail. Sideous, who was now recognisable as a cloaked figure, was seated. Only the lower half of his face, a hideous twisted mess of wrinkles, was barely visible. Vader was a wholly different matter. Standing tall, he was nearly as tall as Grievous. Two shining black eyes like bottomless pits surveyed the room. A triangular respiratory intake constantly cycling air into Vader's lungs. Shoulder armour, a protective helmet. The General's eyes took all of these details at a glance. But it was the breathing and the controls on the chest that interested Grievous. This Vader was a cyborg, just like he was. General Grievous knew protocol. He bowed low, looking up only after he was done.
"It is an honour to finally meet you in person, my Lord."
Sideous smiled.
"Oh, you have met me once in person already."
Cogs in Grievous' mind started to stop.
"With all due respect, my Lord, I believe you to be mistaken. Never once have I met you in all of your physical majesty."
"Are you arguing with me, Grievous?"
The General started. That smile at the start had been a cruel deception, this wasn't a friendly man.
"No, no, Lord. Whatever you say, but I beg to ask, when was it we met?"
Sideous grinned; yellowing teeth peeked out from under his lip.
"You have leaded me further into my intended proceedings faster than I thought you would General, but no matter, it allows for me to deal with my problem quicker, and I can resume my duties."
Little of this made any sense to Grievous. Duties? Problem? There was obviously the problem of the CIS losing, but this sounded more personal.
"I will be frank, Grievous, you are the last of the Separatists, the rest are,"
and here his mouth turned into melodramatic sorrow, "dead. Killed, every last one of them."
Grievous' fists clenched. He had been right.
"Lord, how will we survive now?"
"Simplicity in itself, Grievous, there is no point surviving, the Confederacy of Independent Systems has lost against the superior might of the Republic."
Grievous' mind whirred. Superior? Sideous was praising the damned Republic.
"Your only option is to, surrender. We can only hope that Palpatine's mercy will be greater towards you than it was to the others."
"Palpatine? He killed the others? The damned piece of poodoo."
"I would be careful not to say that in front of him."
"Huh, what can that balding old man do?"
Sideous' lips pursed. Enough was enough. The poor thing had to know.
"Grievous, you have to surrender to the Republic. There's nothing you can do. The war was impossible against the Republic from the start."
Grievous' eyes widened.
"So why did you fund us?"
"Because funding you would get my best interests seen to. And my best interests are galactic domination."
"You still have a plan for us?"
"Yes, but separate ones. Your plan is much different I'm afraid."
"Tell me! What is it?"
Sideous could barely suppress himself, it was so ironic, and hilarious, placing suspense up and up like a tower in Grievous' mind.
"Your plan is for you to die."
"To die? I don't care what Palpatine does, I will not die by his hand!"
"Then you can die by mine, not that it makes any difference."
"By yours? And why would you do that?"
Grievous could smell treachery, but he was desperately trying to deny it.
"Because, my non-friend, Palpatine and I are one and the same."
He lifted his hood slightly so that the whole face was there, puffing around two yellow dots. While heavily disfigured, Palpatine's features were clearly visible. Grievous stepped back, his eyes now widened with fear.
"But, but how?"
"Do you still not understand? I have been backing both sides! Been both their leaders! I have been pulling strings in this war, in this great master plan, since when you were still full bodied in Kalee! The CIS were merely a front for me to create chaos, and when there is chaos, there is the Dark Side! And in the midst of the chaos, I would organise the deaths of the CIS, and dishonour the Jedi! And then I would initiate my New World Order, which as I speak is being organised by my greatest admirals! I tell you now, that you have done well Grievous. You were meant to die on Utapau, but I underestimated your skills. I will not do so again!"
General Grievous stood there, incredulous, his mind processing this information. He had been nothing but a pawn in a grand plan for galactic dominion. A pawn who's fate had been sealed before the game. And here now, both his master and his nemesis were condemning him. Well he would survive; he would be a thorn that grew into an infection. He would destroy the traitor Palpatine, and then he would rule. But first things first were to survive this attack.
"Coruscant will not be my rescheduled death planet."
"Oh, I fear it will, I fear it will."
Palpatine's face contorted as he grinned. He turned to Vader.
"Vader, dispose of my dear friend, his use has long since become redundant."