Chapter 5

Edge of the Knife

"Imperceptible-IV, you have three destroyers rounding portside!"

"Copy all, Sanctity! Draw in all along aft, all wings forward along cruiser Dauntless!"

"This is Howling-Kinrath Leader, Vulture wings, numbering fifte...correction seventeen are assaulting Venator-class, Tumbler! Secondary support wings are required! I say again, I need reinforcements my wing has been compromised!"

"Copy, we're on your tail Howling-lead!"

"Golan Station 18 is under heavy assault! I repeat we're being annihilated here!"

"Coruscant Control Tower Desh-34, we have three acclamators falling into the atmosphere in the northern quadrant! Alert the Works of impending hits!"

"We're tracking all debris masses on inbound course towards the surface, Adjudicator. Turbolaser batteries will mop up all mass inbound they can, maintain focus on targets, how copy?"

"Copy all Coruscant Control!"

"This is Titan-III, we have a flotilla of Separatist warships over sector 13 of atmo-control! Three lucrehulks are spilling dozens of dropships and carriers with vast swarms of vulture droids! Requesting immediate assistance!"

"Negative Titan, all assets in your quadrant are heavily engaged with droid units across sector 13! Redirect from engagement, repeat disengage!"

"Forward batteries ruptured, Control! We are being battered, commencing evacuation, and forward ram!"

"Your call Titan, good luck."

These messages were a dime a dozen and flowed through the vacuum of space. Mingled with impossible droid binary relaying commands at speeds faster than light, at least for droid brains. While screams, and background howls of laser fire, burning ships and ruptured hulls followed or laced themselves in with these desperate and vastly disparate command orders, along with relays of intelligence and general horror. For, those of weak stomachs and easily prone to anxiety it was soon to overwhelm them all.

Furious typing and terminal management was underway. Thousands of eyes, not just within this one control room, but spread across many offices, and many more orbiting stations, looked to their computers to help them in any way, in all ways possible to help ease what was a painful situation. The battle had been raging for an hour now, maybe a bit longer, but the losses were racking, and only upwards. Mostly on the part of the Republic. Tens of thousands of both clone forces and Republic civilian and military casualties were rising. They were too many to count, as bodies littered the atmosphere with debris fields that could blot the sunlight of the distant star, and the streets of cities both atop the massive platforms and to the furthest depths of Coruscant's underbelly were laced in them. A day, and a date unlike any since the far forgotten Great Galactic War. When Sith warships and forces had fallen across Coruscant, but even then their numbers were smaller, their attack coordinated and pronounced to meet strategic goals with utter tactical military intent in mind. With the vastness and infinite, seeming at least, number of droid forces and warships there need be no goal. There need be no mind toward a quick victory. The Republic had known for a year now, even with superior fighters, superior soldiers, the droids could by virtue of their creation and numbers outlast them. They were a metallic plague, and the Republic a vast field of slowly eaten withering wheat.

These were idle thoughts, dark looming horrible things of impending defeat and misery in the minds of many who sat watching, waiting and suffering beneath the vibrations and endless symphony of death shouting over radio waves and comlink signals. The building these techs found themselves within sat atop the city platform in the government sector. Relatively quiet compared to the rest of suffering Coruscant. The firing, endless streams of turbolaser bolts that rocked their building and threatened to deafen those unfortunate enough to hear them shook them all, nonetheless.

Many a man were matted in sweat and riddled with anxiety. To the point of sickness and agitation bordering on the very precipice of madness. Their throats collectively dry and eyes bulged as they scanned screens, managed probes and tried in desperation to crack these damnable codes! Techs and men around them relayed orders and important shifts in Confederate warships and smaller flotilla detachments as the Home Fleet, what was left of it, moved into their defensive points across the atmosphere. Others were monitoring collections of cam droids tucked away and cameras laden along the uncountable streets above and below the top of Coruscant. Relaying droid troop movements to the defending clones on the ground and their Jedi generals.

Then there were the others. Among them a one tech named Julaen Gresk. He like many others around him held their eyes plastered to their individual screens. His were worn and weary from an hour of viewing and testing, wondering and praying to forces beyond his thought for answers. Across his screen was endless binary of programming in similar manner to older Separatist designs. This one was shrieking across all HoloNet broadcasts and traditional communicators, blocking all long range comms in and out of the system. He swore he was going to get an ulcer, as he felt the weight of the entire battle weigh down upon him. This was the jamming code, the thing that blocked the Republic from sending word across the whole galaxy as to what was happening on Coruscant! He tensed his hands, pulling them away from his terminal keys and loosed a grunt of pain that was borne in his gut from anxiety alone. He snatched his technicians hat from atop his head and furiously rubbed the back of his hand to his sweating brow.

"I know this, I can do this!" He hissed angrily to none but himself. The building gave another shaking burst as though a long winded quake has just loosed from the deep tectonic plates long lost on those who lived upon Coruscant. No, it was just a nearby turbolaser shrieking green bolts upwards. They slammed into several coordinated wings of vulture droid skirting their sector of the capitol. Several would erupt into orange fireballs spilling black smoke across the skyline. Julaen had become used to it by now, even if it did cause everything across his desk to shake and his teeth to tap involuntarily against one another.

"This code...I know this code. We ALL know this code! I don't know what the kriff you are." He seethed as his free hand pointed to his screen. The line there in binary and command structures that were legible to his eyes were remnant codes left over from the now distant Battle of Praesitlyn some years back. The Separatist jamming tech at the time had been quite exceptional, but it had been cracked. His eyes scanned right and found the code that was the boogeyman of the day. New structures and lines had been added. Probably designed by some masochistic, sociopath of a geonosian sometime after that battle. Yet, all queries of their jamming signal and encryption key databases showed no record of this code structure, there was code layered beneath it, this was just the encryption pattern. They needed it cracked, and fast.

"I can do this. I know this code. I can do this." With sweaty palms, shaky breath and paling skin Julaen revved himself up. His hands flew furiously back to his keyboard, having thrown his cap aside. He just needed to work the code, think like a droid…no! Think like a sick geonosian who was having a right old laugh at him and the Republic. Yeah, like that.

As the screams, explosions and terror sounded aloud all around him.

The three of them despite their statuses as Jedi Masters had to inwardly admit that this venture was wearing them all down. Their duel against relentless and, more well trained than usual magnaguards had worn their strength. Master Corobb's throats were worn and his breathing more labored than Master Moudama and Ti. Moudama had been carrying the Chancellor for quite some time since their exploit on the transport platform and the rail terminal. Where Master Ti had managed to rid them of Grievous. Hopefully for enough time to reach the bunker. Even Grievous' sabers couldn't penetrate the bunker once reached...they hoped.

Now the three of them found themselves bounding through a tunnel with some quick transport system along the tunnel rails. It stood open and waiting seemingly for their arrival. The thuds and cracks of their boots to the floors echoed the tube system and as they neared Master Ti came to a stop just before the extended boarding ramp. Moudama had dropped the Chancellor at some point, and the old man was moving up prompted by Master Corobb. The three stopped and had now turned back towards Ti, as if sensing her full stop.

"Get inside, get to the bunker!" She ordered just as they turned.

"My dear," Palpatine began solemn in tone. "What about you?"

"I will stay, and hold them off." She in turn lowly intoned, darker than perhaps necessary but truthfully morose in her expected task at hand as she peered over her shoulder down the darkened tunnel once more.

"But we don't know for sure if they're still following." His voice just a pitch or two seemingly concerned as he reasoned their situation out for her.

"Make no mistake," She retorted sternly over her shoulder back toward him. "They are coming!" An uncomfortable silence followed. The hum of their darkened tunnel with machinery and electricity flowing beneath and above them, all around them. Hisses of machinery moving beyond, and very feint, near imperceptible distant booms and rattles. Master Ti narrowed her eyes the faintest bit and felt her shoulders stiffen once more. Awaiting what she felt was to come. The Force told her so.

She heard two pairs of feet come up behind her, and didn't have to check to see which two they were as she turned and extended her arms upward. Both in pleading and soothing a manner, her crimson hands brushing upon the left shoulders of both Master Corobb and Moudama.

"Protect the Chancellor." She ordered them firmly but with a thin assuring smile along her lips. Moudama showed in his four eyes concern mirrored in those of Corobb, and placed his massive furry hand along her arm nearly encasing it, yet soft in touch. Is words coming as chirps common of the tongue of the talz species as he bade the Force be with her.

"And you." She again smiled brightly, thinly, but allowing the Force to echo her warm thanks to both her Jedi brothers.

"This selfless sacrifice will be long remembered in the archives of the Jedi Order." Palpatine from beyond and above them, lording as he was and political in manner as ever, offered. Shaak felt her brow furrow ever so slightly. Recalling how odd the man had seemed in his apartment to be suddenly so sullen and yet regal. He was, even now, an enigma even for a politician. Still, she loosed a slight breath, as the rail behind her loaded the ramp up and in a burst of speed slid off into the distance beyond sight and then sound. The idea of her sacrifice being at hand, shook her, but she centered herself into the Force.

"There is no death, there is the Force." Low, inaudible to all ears she intoned staring down the tunnel still. The continued hum was deafening and sent a chill through her now as she was left 'alone.' The fading presences of her comrades not helping soothe her nerves as she raised her saber hilt placed within her right hand, finger upon its trigger.

Then the metal clamor of many falling boots hit hear ears. Her eyes narrowed, a distant and nearly forgotten predatory defense mechanism of her species activating within her as her eyes narrowed. As an army of crimson eyes illuminated themselves from beyond the darkness. She brought her hilt before her, and placed both hands onto the weapon of the Jedi and the blue beam erupted forth as a guardian and companion to her in this coming venture.

"Master Sageon, we have three enemy capitol ships advancing on Golan-station 142!"

"I see them! Master Jill, if you'd please!"

"I'll follow you in, Master!" The ongree Jedi Master responded with the expected harshness of his species native vocal chords as they spoke basic. Master Sageon dove his delta Aethersprite-class interceptor into a swiveling set of spins as the ship then banked hard down toward Coruscant. On his right came in an actis interceptor piloted by Master Pablo Jill.

"Two providence-class destroyers and an entire lucrehulk, L'lacielo!" The lorrdian Master felt his jaw tighten as he pulled back on the thrusters of his ship. A series of explosions rippled the space around and just beyond his ship as forward mounted turbolasers along the topside of one of those damnable providence's had turned and opened a volley of blasts upon them.

"Color me aware, Pablo! Where's your wing?!"

"We're on both your tails, generals! Magenta-Wing reporting!"

"Green-Boma Squadron at your backs general!"

"This is Yellow-lead, I've got a wing of battered but operable bombers flying on on your rear, General Sageon. Request interceptor lead in, and orders, sir!" Sageon nodded to himself and pulled the Force inwards. His eyes jumping to his left, and in a flash of light watched a recusant-class Separatist warship explode so violently along its aft that its forward compartment rippled into several successive combustive bursts. Chunks of metal flew in all direction and began scattering across the atmosphere. Some heading their wa-

"I've got an idea! All wings on me, you too Master Jill!" He commanded as his ship banked hard left followed by a small fleet of fighters and bombers numbering at least in the forties.

"What's the plan, Master?"

"The debris field, Pablo, you and me make a push on the field, all wings follow us in!"

"We copy all, Generals!" They replied, and intuitively Pablo-Jill knew what to do. As their ships rounded back and then downward the debris field was flying outward in all directions still and creating a screen of torn and molten metal between them and the advancing Separatist warships.

Master L'lacielo and Pablo both extended one free hand forward in as wide a field as they could concentrate on. The harshness of the Force was enough to careen thousands of shards and stripped or torn metal and flying debris downwards with the free momentum of space carrying them on their own now.

"Good work, Master."

"And to you, Master!" Sageon grinned, an older Jedi indeed, he still found the action of this mildly exciting. Before, of course, reality hit him again and his face set to a picture of intense concentration. Both on the ship, his hands and his movements, and the Force.

"Magenta form up behind me. Boma's you take Master Jill's back and follow his lead in. Yellow Squad, I want you to concentrate on the forward facing turbolaser batteries. Clear their forward units along the two providence's. Copy all?" He asked as his ship followed in a spinning piece of what looked to have been a hangar bay metal plate the size of three airspeeders wide.

"Copy all, General."

"All green, General."

"Affirmative on orders, General!" All three wings responded.

"What about the lucrehulk, Master?" Pablo asked as the enemy ship returned to firing upwards against their incoming swarm. Their crimson bolts slammed into the torn metal and fried other pieces into smaller ones, but near all of them were hardly hazardous to them, for now.

"Clear out the providence's as their forward units. The lucrehulk will need to be dealt with after. Focus on the now."

"Copy, we'll cross that bridge when we get there, Master." Master Jill offered and Sageon nodded a bit sardonically to himself.

"Indeed. All units, S-foils to attack position!" The ARC-170's all did as ordered while the BTLB bombers formed in behind them. Jill banked right and his squad flowed in behind him as Sageon banked left once more, with his wing following in after him.

"Interceptor units coming up fast!"

"Break and engage!" Sageon commanded as the swarm of upward coming vultures buzzed by them firing the entire way.

"I trust your return journey went without undue concerns or delay?"

"Nothing unexpected happened. So, if that is an answer you're looking for you've found it." Gandalf offered with a smile as Aragorn nodded with a faint chuckle.

"I trust Lady Galadriel is well?"

"Well enough as any among the Galadrhim. The song of the sea calls to them more potently now that the Three can no longer delay the passing of their works here upon Middle-Earth."

"Aye, it is a sad fate." Legolas chimed in from where he was seated. His eyes wondered for a moment, thoughtful, and all among them knew why and where his mind led him. The sound of the sea called to him too. His people as a whole. It was but a matter of time.

"Ah! So forlorn we've suddenly all become! This is by no means a time to be so depressed, or depressing!" Gimli, ever the mood changer, cried from where he had assertively sat himself upon the old Steward's throne. A pipe in his hand, an image in mimicry to that taken shortly before they had all made for the Black Gate some weeks ago.

"My dear Gimli, that seat is really not for you." Legolas, having been caught by his friend's harsh tone, spoke with a smirk.

"Aye it is not! This wee cobbling of wood is uncomfortable. More fit for you tender elves! Now that," He jutted his pipe to the marble chair set high upon the stairs, the seat of the King.

"That is a throne! Fine whitened marble of good stone! Fit for a King."

"Now that, even I could not allow you to sit upon, my Lord." Aragorn offered with a hint of sarcasm that caused nearby Gandalf to shake his head. The dwarf grumbled and waved Aragorn off especially as Legolas also joined in shaking his head at his friend's antics and mood.

"How comes the colony, my young Lord, Legolas?" Gandalf asked inquisitively of the elf prince who immediately brightened.

"It fairs well! The green there has suffered some decay and has become wild much as Eryn Lasgalen had in the darker times. However, those who have followed me have begun tending to the trees there. They have seemed to settled well with the quieting of Orodruin. Doubtless with the passing of Sauron as well."

"A fair and welcome tiding then." Aragorn nodded happily.

"How many have come?"

"A small number, but many of my Silvan kin have been given freedom to travel from the north by my father. Many of them have heard rumblings of the sea, and have mind to concern themselves with a new woodland to tend to. Perhaps they hope to stave off the call."

"And you?" Gandalf inquired knowingly.

"I shall wait. I shall not pass into the West before Aragorn passes from the world." Legolas, with a hint of forlorn offered, but Aragorn gave an appreciative bow of his head.

"Aye, and while we all tend to woods, and trees we miss out on beautiful glittering stones! Far they go and travel as veins of stars in the deep beneath the White Mountains!" All three again turned from their seats and their shared table to Gimli. A dreamy look in his eyes.

"Helms Deep! The Glittering Caves! I should marvel upon them again sooner than late! Alas I must wait until these other matters are put to rest." He huffed.

"Yes, my dear Gimli, and it should be that we go together. You still owe me after all."

"Aye, I know. Whatever fascination you have with Fangorn and whatever other patch of leaves, I'll never understand. Ya' see one tree you've seen em' all!" Again Legolas and Aragorn shared a good laugh as Gandalf pulled his pipe from his cloak and could only shake his head once more.

"What of the halflings, Gandalf?" Aragorn asked turning again as the wizard lit the pipe and took the first puff thereafter.

"Was their return journey also, uneventful?"

"The four have returned to the Shire without issue. Frodo…needs time to heal. More importantly to reflect, I think. Samwise has shown himself a different hobbit indeed. I daresay he may well come to high standing in the Shire given time."

"That is good." Aragorn offered earnest in opinion.

"Indeed. As for Merry and Pippin, they are as they've ever been. Well, with no small amount of new understanding come upon them. Those two have much left in them to explore and partake in the mysteries of the world. If it be their will to do so. Though they both assuredly take more pride than perhaps healthy in their newfound heights among the hobbits."

"Ah, so they were taller!" Gimli slapped his hand to knee.

"I knew they were different after that accursed forest!"

"Yes, Master Dwarf, our two hobbit friends partook in some ent-draught." Gandalf replied and the dwarf simply laughed. Reveling in his correct intuition.

"Regardless, those two are more than ready for their next outing. Though they did make sure to take time to allow themselves to relax back home. The four of them together had. That is a good thing."

"Indeed it is." Aragorn continued to offer.

"Then we come to the matter at hand?" Legolas asked.

"Yes, yes indeed we do." Gandalf took deep a breath and puff of pipe. His eyes narrowing and growing distant as was common of a wizard.

"I do not know what to make of it. I do not doubt the Lady's vision, but like her I know not its meaning." Legolas continued on. The three having been told of the vision by Gandalf the day prior upon their coming to Minas Tirith. Further discussion on the matter having been halted until rest had been taken.

"It certainly sounds to be an ill portend. Such tidings are reminiscent of what befell Middle-Earth before the return of the One."

"Now that, is an ill line of thought indeed!" Gimli almost admonished Aragorn, but the King did not retract what he had said. It was true, even if ill and frightening.

"Visions are not something to be believed with utter certainty. No matter the seer and their history with vision, they are not an assured thing of what is to come. This Age is one not shown with any clarity."

"What 'clarity?'" Gimli asked, and Gandalf looked from where had been thoughtfully speaking aloud. He shook his head.

"Nothing. I spoke out of far, far distant memory, Master Dwarf. Needless to say, we should not consider the visions of Lady Galadriel to be without merit, or worth discussing. Alas, my thoughts are not any more of use than hers, or yours." He added looking to the three.

"Is this omen meant for the Reunited Kingdom, do you think, Gandalf? Or, perhaps a new power risen elsewhere? The farthest east or southern lands?" Aragorn asked.

"I cannot see this vision as concerning the elves. Dark as it seems, there will be so few of us left within a matter of a few centuries as to have such evil befall us."

"That is a hasty judgment, Master elf." Gimli, for one, pointed out wisely in rebuke of Legolas.

"That is true. We cannot be sure to whom this vision speaks of. What is clear is that the vision of the blackened figure was mannish. A sword of fire upon them, and a deathly color borne of a lifeless star." Gandalf continued, his eyes once more glossing over and turning about the room as though appraising items unseen. He took another puff of the pipe and turned silent.

"I would not seek to impose so weighted a question upon you, Gandalf." Aragorn began.

"However, I must ask if you've seen evil seeping back into the world? Even so soon after Sauron's defeat?" The wizard pulled his pipe from his mouth and released a small billow of smoke to the air. His eyes turning to the newly minted King only after another heavy silence.

"One can never assume that evil is forever silenced. Not until a time far beyond any of our minds and years. Yet, the great tiding wind that blew across Middle-Earth when the Dark Lord fell still whirls over the land. All that yet turn to evil will and manner recedes to the dark depths and seek no intrusion into the lives of the victorious. However," With an air of pointed warning Gandalf looked between the three.

"That does not mean evil has ceased to whisper in the minds of those who have yet to reveal themselves." The intone from the wizard set the other three gathered onto their back footing. Thoughtful as they were they turned to a gathered moment of silence. Gimli puffing at his own pipe as his eyes darted back and forth. Legolas reclined into the seat he found himself in, and seemed distant. Upon what subject, only he knew. Aragorn gave a slight sigh before turning back upon Gandalf.

"Perhaps it would be for the best I postpone sending the gathered I have chosen to this Republic that Master Kenobi and Skywalker come from." Gandalf seemed jostled from his own thoughts again and tilted his head quizzically, his white strands of hair shifting about his head.

"What cause would this matter give for you to delay such a thing?" Legolas was the one to ask, himself also roused from thought.

"We know not the meaning of the Lady's vision, nor its origination. Perhaps, in our haste to open diplomatic relations with this 'Republic' beyond my total comprehension, we could very well play a part in this ill omen. If perhaps, the vision means the coming of some darkness upon Middle-Earth, not unlike the woman who joined Sauron, or this 'ghost' I've heard whispers of. Would it not be safer then to delay all further outside interaction? Gandalf?" Aragorn asked aloud and pointed to the wizard.

"It is not something so wisely delayed, I should think." Gandalf began puffing from his pipe again.

"None of us, not even I, can see all ends that may well or could come of this meeting of two worlds. The vastness of this domain Anakin and Obi-Wan came from cannot be so readily ignored. It would be as a stone set about the sea seeking to ignore the water surrounding it. An impossible task in many ways." He spoke with a measure of knowledge an authority that honestly led to Aragorn's brow furrowing. However, he did not press the matter.

"Our friends from beyond our skies made it clear we should be cautious, even when dealing with those they are allied with. It is no great secret that Men, Elves and Dwarves have in the past been on the same 'side' to a matter. Yet, all three in times and places have sought to overcome the other for prestige and power. It would not be, so ideal a thing, to perhaps allow this Republic to press the issue. To force the rock into the sea without its desiring to do so." His analogy become rather blunt, but still Aragorn nodded.

"Surely you don't mean those lads who came and found the Jedi would try to do what those metal men did?! Land an army and try to dominate the whole of Middle-Earth?!"

"Would it be the most insane thing done in the search for greater power?" Gandalf countered Gimli.

"Righteous they were counted, and the greatest Kingdom of Men formed and given grace, and yet Númenor with all her might and wisdom fell. In time their King led them to the furthest western shore to lay claim and conduct war. I would not think such a thing impossible, regardless of their initial intent, Master dwarf." Gimli remained silent, thoughtful and even pensive at that thought.

"Númenor, in the times of old was a peaceful Kingdom. Yet, even before Sauron came to them in shackles and then turned the King and his men to wickedness, the Men of Númenor traveled out across the sea and began conquering the lands of other Men. Some would say, perhaps in their defense, that they only sought to conquer 'lesser men.' Be it of birth, skill or capabilities."

"An ill thought indeed." Aragorn intoned after Legolas spoke, barely audibly as the matter of his ancestry came back into to the fore of his mind once more.

"Nevertheless, I do believe you should go through with this delegation of yours. My only council being the need for the utmost care to be taken." Aragorn nodded.

"Aye, my friend." He replied to Gandalf.

"We cannot assume that all from this 'Republic' are of friendly nature and intent. We need only look to the east and south. At least I can. Though we are all Men, the Haradrim and the Easterlings swore allegiance to Sauron. Be it greed, power or fear that led them to do so, we cannot assume that because you are of stock from race or nation that you must be friend."

"A smart deduction, I should think."

"A saddening thought, but no less true." Gandalf and Legolas agreed respectively.

"I need only look to the one this Republic has sent to be their representative. This Koll, is by no means a man who has shown himself to be a villain. Yet, he carries himself as a Lord from one of the old noble houses about Gondor. If that be the case then his workings and web weaving skills must assuredly have been honed."

"Do you imagine him to be a threat?"

"No...not yet. Time shall tell." Aragorn answered Legolas earnestly.

"Then it is decided!" Gimli proclaimed and Aragorn chuckled.

"Yes, Master dwarf it is. I shall send the delegation to this Republic." He swiveled in his seat to firmly look to Gimli.

"I expect you to be on your best behavior."

"Bah! I'm in need of no coaching on the intricacies of diplomacy Aragorn! Why we dwarves are well known negotiators and traders!"

"That is not the same as diplomacy." Legolas warned with a laugh upon his airy voice.

"Ah, but it is! You'll see in no time at all, Aragorn! I'll be sure to keep these other rabble rousers you intend on sending into the great unknown under control and in good behavior!"

"I thank you Gimli, but I should think the company will look to...other leadership."

"Bah! Have it your way." Gimli waved him off good-naturedly.

"Alas I cannot go with you my friend." Legolas added Gimli's way.

"Though I should expect to be regaled on all such wonders within this Republic by several voices."

"Ah, so they intend to travel?"

"Indeed. Excitedly so! Based on tales of our travels with our friends from beyond." Legolas replied with a thin smirk.

"Then that is good news! The last of the chosen delegates are agreed in this venture then." Aragorn leaned back into his seat. Allowing a feint relieved sigh to loose from his nostrils.

"Then we should hope for an easy entry into this vast unknown world beyond our own. Time will tell..." Gandalf intoned, once more seeming more pointed inward toward himself rather than any of those otherwise gathered.

The chase had been on for some time, and it had been exhilarating! Not since the further fading days of old back upon the lush green surfaces of Kalee has the General felt such excitement in the hunt! No game could top this chase though, no beast and its finest meat to feed whole villages could be so satisfying as this matter! No, Grievous had his mind set, his senses added to by hat he had become, and his talon like metal claws itching for the next part.

Metal foot scrapped to metal surface as he finished his long winded run. Dashing from building to building and across vacant walkway and connecting path about this wretched planet had been the hard part. It was not something he wanted to admit, even as his eyes narrowed inward with anger against himself. The memory of the terminal rail shooting outward tearing him away from his prey, so near to it and so close! That togruta female, that Master Shaak Ti, had gotten the better of him. She was no warrior, no, that he held to deep within himself, and knew it to be true! She had used the damnable Force to undermine him. No, not again, she would not be so lucky this time.

It almost led him to laugh as he heard the approach of the transport through the tunnel system near in the distance as he huddled himself, a bone chilling statue of white glinting with the yellow of his eyes within a darkened room, a chamber fit for a dead king lined in metal panels and hidden wires. He had raced back across Coruscant having cut his cloak at the bottom after being flung about two incredibly unpleasant miles of the city. Still, h had to give it to Lord Sidious once more. The expected evacuation route the Chancellor was to take under Jedi guard had been exceptionally accurate.

His hands clutched silently within the darkness to the chosen two saber hilts that lay within them as he kept ruminating, awaiting them. How that Lord who hid his face in the shadows knew such details, how he had known of the reversion points into the system that had been lost for hundreds if not thousands of years through the Deep Core, how he had known the Chancellor would take a rare rest within his 500 Republica residence? Many questions the General could perhaps seek to answer, but truthfully he did not care. What mattered was the end result, and in every circumstance Lord Sidious had proven to be correct to the extreme, perhaps even scarily accurate in his predictions and assumptions.

Grievous heard the first massive metal chamber door begin closing followed by a second and third. They had come, and he no longer had time to think on such matters. The darkness came crawling inwards from the gaping light beyond him. The sound of footsteps reverberated, slamming each to metal panels along the ground. His eyes shut momentarily, some were heavier than others, and he was once again within the jungles of Kalee hunting beasts and hearing their movements based on the echos they cast through the soil. His eyes opened as the darkness crept nearer still, and he loosed an inaudible gravely sigh as the fourth and final door began closing. Only after three, not four, silhouettes trekked through the doorway that shut behind them. The final one through, the ithorian casting wary eyes back over his shoulder.

Indeed the Force had failed him if it did not warn the foolish little Jedi what waited for him here, and now! The room entered into deafening silence and darkness as a faint blue glow began emanating from ceiling panels. The three, including one Chancellor Palpatine checked their surroundings, perhaps the Force had failed them, but their senses must've began prickling with the dreaded sensation of being watched. For indeed they were being watched.

The way was shut, now they had to die.

Hung from the ceiling by his clawed talons, Grievous sprung to life those two saber blades that shone one elegant blue and another a blistering green. Lights, the final lights that shone in distant memory of those he had slain to take these weapons.

The talz, he was clearly the more warrior spirited among them. He shoved the Chancellor aside as he leapt towards Grievous, blue saber in hand. The General fell to the ground and spun around himself, his saber clashed into that the talz Jedi Master. The ithorian then came, and Grievous felt his limbs flow into a sort of dance. Both sabers dipped and rose, slashing back and against both Jedi as they clashed harshly, in coordinated chaos against him. These were no weapon masters. They were standard to the point of being sedentary.

Grievous noted dully the Chancellor back into the darkness illuminated faintly by the dancing lights. His eyes dimming as he watched in muted interest the battle before him. He may have found that odd were he not playing his part in this deadly dance. Both Jedi swiped at him, and he parried left and right, over shoulder, slashed down, meet, clash, push back. The Jedi swung under one another, or over and slashed at different flanks of him but he held his ground, silent in his reptilian gaze and masterful control of these sacred Jedi weapons.

The ithorian slashed at his center and ducked to his right as the talz came at him for a renewed frontal assault, and Grievous cleaved both sabers sideways defensively clashed and threw him back, as his right swung out meeting the ithorian's parry at his flank again. The ithorian swung back under and at his left before bouncing backward allowing the talz to double his attack against him. Grievous parried and slashed down in defensive strikes that caught each and every slash, bash, and crash sent his way. The attack was relentless, and two Jedi at once was nothing new for Grievous, but he had grown irritated now. His eyes could see his target set before him. He slashed from an inward X out and crashed both sabers into that of these Jedi who stood on either side of him forcing their strength against him. His stance was not his greatest chosen. For he had fallen onto one knee, and the mechanical whir therein gave a slight hiss and whine under the likely Force enhanced strength of these Jedi masters boring down onto him.

He hissed lowly again, his eyes narrowing further and he felt molten wrath broil beneath the metal surface of his cybernetic body. Death was now upon these Jedi, and the Chancellor would be his!

He detached his two spare arms from those holding the Jedi back, with three metal fingers clutching those hilts still as the two new limbs grasped to his belt and produced two further sabers. The eyes of his enemies turned bugged and bulged as if they had forgotten one of his most deadly advantages! The folly of the arrogant Jedi once more proven in combat and oh what a thrill it was to the General to behold as his two new sabers entered into the fray. Slashing up and pushing both feeble Jedi from him and away. They took guarded stances as they moved backward away from him now. Grievous knew it was time, he willed a silent message be sent to the magnaguards across Coruscant to return at once. Their part to play had now ended. The finally of the dance was at hand.

His sabers dashed across and over his body in breathtaking speed. Slashes of X patters over his body in double the speed and double the rotation blistering lights crashing over the forms of these walking dead beings. The two Jedi backed away, and they had been poorly placed to do so, angled in a furthering pattern from one another. Grievous slashed all four right and the ithorian was sent staggering back. The General's left clawed foot came out and slammed into the talz chest throwing him to the further wall. Allowing him to harass the ithorian. All four sabers slashed once more in their wicked dance over his form and the ithorian dutifully resisted him. Until Grievous could smell it near!

The ithorian bounced the four blades back with each parry, but gave no mind to the four at once, and Grievous slashed one outward forcing the ithorian to defend. All four blades came back into his body and Grievous gave a powerful four-bladed swing out and watched in glee as three burn streaks cleaved into the ithorian's flesh and with a whine his eyes shut and he fell back very clearly, cleanly dead.

Without a word he jumped into an angled left and menaced the talz. His four bulbous eyes carrying the horrified sadness of realization that his comrade was dead beside him. As though a beast who had lost his companion set in the woods. Grievous felt no pity even as so pitiful and pitiable a sight was before him. He came upon the talz Jedi as he had the ithorian. His blades dancing across his form in a display of maddening greens and harrowing blues. As the ithorian did the talz was defending from each slash and feint with a parry that assuredly must've made his worn muscles burn.

"All too easy." Grievous hissed as he played the same game, his sabers moved out and the talz parried, he brought them out and swung all four outward from himself and up and all four blades left their trenches of death carved across this beast's fur and flesh. Undoubtedly the smell of which was now fumigating this metal sarcophagus of a room.

The only sound left for a fiendish moment was the multiple thrums of multiple lightsaber blades as their blue and green glows pierced the darkness of the room. Grievous stood silent in his pride over the toppled and dead bodies of yet two more Jedi masters. Surely any and every Jedi death was something to be self glorified, but they would send no mere knights to retrieve the Supreme Chancellor. They had to be masters, and so their falls were all that much more sweeter. Alas, there was little time to marvel in his accomplishments as there was still a mission at hand.

He deactivated three of his four blades and locked them back onto his belt. He swiftly snatched up the two fallen sabers of his enemies and placed them onto his belt as well before turning and snapping one bony finger into a wall console leading back out from this entryway to one of many bunkers.

"You're mine old man!" He grumbled stomping near to the Chancellor. The same old fool who had addressed him so flippantly before now stared up to him with that same condescending smirk. It irritated him, and his mind screamed in rage to put him down where he stand, but…

"I'm not afraid of you." He stated simply raising a finger aimed against the General.

"You wouldn't dare harm the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. Whatever would your masters say?" It was is if he knew. Grievous recalled in a moment again how Sidious warned him of the cost of killing this old man. Though it was always stated in the manner of an 'attempt.' As if the General could not kill him should he so desire. It was, however, not to be. This day.

He reached out and snatched the condescending politician by the neck of his cloak.

"You're lucky they want you alive!" Grievous hoped to menace by throwing his old form around and nearing to his face to that of Palpatine's. Yet, he still only saw mute recognition of his words. It irritated him to no end. Clearly the Chancellor must've been entering into human senility.

However, as he held the old man up the both of them heard the sound of running feet along the metal panels beyond. The same where the two Jedi and the Chancellor had entered from. Both heads turned as the familiar togrutan figure came dashing in, worn, cloak torn and burnt, no small amount of...sweat? Did togruta sweat, Grievous had never wondered before, but then again, he hadn't cared. She sucked in breath both in horror and shock upon seeing the flayed bodies at her feat.

"Chancellor!" She called turning to the both of them.

"Shaak Ti, my dear! You've come to rescue me." He stated, not asked.

Quite unusual of these Jedi, the togruta seemed to tap into some of that renowned feral part of herself common of the people of Shili. She gave a feral cry, her nostrils flared and face contorted fully into a thing of rage. Though it was not born of anger, Grievous could see this. He knew raw anger. It was the weariness of it all, the sadness of loss, and the feeling of failure that plagued this woman now. It too was a glorious sight. Near on par with her dead comrades. He slashed out with his one still active saber and it crashed to hers in a blare of light and motion. A second arm flew out grasping her wrist and a third of his free arms slammed with a crack to her throat that flung her immediately up into the air as the Chancellor now was.

"You're tired, Jedi." Grievous stated gravely, and matter-of-factly as he noted with judgmental, observant eyes, the torn cloak along her arms. Unmistakable burns caused by the electrified tips of the magnaguards staffs. She struggled feebly in his grasp. His words showing truth in how limp her struggles were, even though his metal 'flesh' he could feel the vibrations of worn muscle and perhaps even the pull of torn tendon. No warrior to begin with, but now little more than a captured gizka in his hand. He laughed.

"You won't be needing this!" he grasped and with little effort tore her saber from her. No death was needed this day, by sheer humiliation he claimed yet another prize as he snapped this saber to his belt. Three whole blades in but a day! Very few times since Hypori had he known such inward revelry!

"I've got something else for you." he warned as the electrified binds he kept hidden upon his arms sprung to life buzzing with electric energy. The currents flowing through them causing them to twist and turn like ravenous snakes. The light shining from them casting upon her face as she gawked down in horror.

One free arm rose and slammed a wrenching fist to her gut causing the Jedi to gasp and spit in pain as Grievous threw the binds over high rising ceiling grates. Seven in total latched themselves, as they were designed and Grievous took two arms and easily bound her arms across her body. He raised her up, chuckling the entire time, and then viciously wrapped the free and snapping electrical ends of the binds around her body where they again followed their designs and latched to one another harshly, tightly, as not to lose grip. Shaak Ti, the Jedi Master of the High Council itself, howled in immediate pain, her voice trembling not in fear but with the current that echoed over her flesh and would begin leaving burns in no time.

"May the Force be with you, Jedi scum." Grievous intoned with a final laugh as his two left arms snapped back together. She cast him a look of anger but could not speak through grit teeth still seeking to function through the pain.

"How angry! Surely that goes against the Jedi way?" Again she did not meet his taunt, but it was enough.

"Needn't you worry my dear, my rescue will assuredly come soon!" Palpatine again spoke and Grievous cast him a questioning glare. It sounded almost callus to be honest, how little this man seemed to care about the Jedi being tortured before his very eyes. But then, he was the Supreme Chancellor of the decadent Republic. Perhaps, Grievous thought, even he had allowed himself to believe the wholesome vision of this fool propagated by the Republic propaganda.

"Let's go!" Grievous threw him down, but the man was limber, he caught himself to his feet, brushed his blue cloak, gave Grievous a 'humph' and turned out the doorway.

The two traveled in silence, as they led out from the depths of this bunker entrance. No guards awaited, simply blast door upon blast door, and even they were no help. Certainly no help to the fallen Jedi masters. The outside bristled in the distant booms and echoes of war in the distant skies and riddled along the surface. The hunt was now complete, but it was certainly an anticlimax. Where one most bind their prey and escort it back into their hold or about their village for the eventual slaughter. However, Grievous recognized his place, and the command of both Dooku and the exceptionally well informed Lord Sidious.

Outside many magnaguards now awaited, and their shuttle had come for them following his signal during the battle with the two currently deceased Jedi. They boarded silently up the ramp as the engines hummed in standby. They would not be here for much longer.

"Take him aboard. Once we're aboard the Phantom Fist bind him within the control throne! We have a show to present him and his vaunted Republic." He commanded to one silent guard nearby.

"How incredibly misguided you are."

"I'd watch your mouth were I you!" Grievous retorted back with a feigned raise of his arm as though to slap Palpatine, who in kind smirked.

"Come now, striking me may lead to questions from your masters as to my state! How would dearest Count Dooku, so regal, so noble in his aristocratic ways view your inhospitable attitude and tenure of my person? Now that would be a poor decision indeed, General Grievous."

"You have some nerve speaking to your captor as you do, old man." Grievous intoned with a growl as they reached the boarding ramp flanked by further magnaguards.

"I did not ascend to the position of Supreme Chancellor by cowering before every thug's gaze, and limp bravado or equally bloated attempts at inspiring fear. No, General Grievous, there are scarier things in this galaxy, in this universe, than a walking talking blaster."

"A walking what?"

"Blaster, is what I said." Palpatine affirmed with a nasally self superior tone.

"After all that is what you are. A blaster rifle, what do the less advanced ones call you? Ah yes, a gun. You're little more than that. Walking on two...hmm feet seems a rather bold description."

"The next words out of your mouth may well be your last!"

"Hmm, I doubt that." Silence passed as they began moving up the ramp.

"I thought so." Was all Palpatine said, and Grievous felt his neck began to shake with the wrath he suddenly felt spike inside of himself.

The silence was welcome as they finished walking up the ramp. Grievous paused and craned himself left and right as though his senses prickled at something new coming about. It was then that he heard the side turret open a blistering set of rounds out into the distance as the familiar warble of a Republic gunship slammed against his audioreceptors.

A connecting boom echoed out and a plume of smoke billowed just beyond the ship and over the top where Grievous could see, but he grumbled and shoved the Chancellor a final time who had stopped, up toward the ship. The two guards ahead of him planted their metal arms onto the old man and sped him inside, and Grievous paused as he heard the ship fall into the distance. That feeling did not yet leave him though.

The soft thud of boot to plate hit him and he turned over shoulder to see a wondrous prize indeed! None other than Mace Windu, the Jedi Master of the Order himself!

"To add his saber to my collection would be a welcome bonus!" He hissed too low for any ear to hear. His eyes narrowed, and back arched down as he spun and in a flash activated all four lightsabers in his four hands and goaded this undeserving, far too praised, and unworthy master to-

A sickening metal crack sounded and Grievous contorted upwards, his hands desperately clutching at his saber hilts as they deactivated. It was of no use and they fell into the ship behind him. One arm snatched in desperation to the entryway and he felt his claws bore trenches into the metal as a pain he had never experienced in this metal body bore through him and set his pain receptors into a frenzy against what little flesh he had left. His eyes bulged and suddenly he felt his cough, as of this day well contained, rupture back out with a vengeance. No…no it was not back it was worse! He felt as though he were truly choking and he gagged upon himself, falling to a knee and his metal bobbed in ragged hoarse coughs that pull all prior ones to shame. He looked out and saw Master Windu glare into him, one arm raised.

The Force, he had everything, but in the one thing he lacked, they had one better.

The guards behind him lifted the ship without his command and the hatch began closing allowing Grievous to fall backwards onto his shredded metal back and allow the coughing fit to ravage what was left of his lungs. Before he felt the ship lurch upwards with such speed as to put podracers to shame. Everything was hazy as the guards surrounded him and seemed unsure in their robotic mechanical ways of what to do. Indeed Grievous did not know in this one instant what to do, but his primal instinct to survive was thrashing about his brain and he felt that worn heart beat harshly against stabbing metal that may well have ruptured his organ sack.

"Hmm, what was it that you had said earlier? Ah yes, "the next words out of your mouth may well be your last!' I believe they were. How very ironic." Was all he heard the Chancellor say as another ravaging cough screeched from passed vocabulator.

Mace bound forward with the Force aiding every step. His brown eyes boring still on the ship as a singular tunnel visioned manner took over him, he leapt upwards, his purple saber bursting to life. The ship, however, loosed a barrage of fire from all of its rear side and side facing turrets. Crimson bolts thrashed the air and singed the meal beneath them as they crashed into and ripped holes along buildings and walkways. Mace flung his saber with aid of the Force guiding his movements before himself as his body arched backwards against his will, and thus he began falling back first back down.

He fought against it, but he knew it was beyond him, and so he let himself fall, still deflecting each and every shot that neared too close to his person. He fell, and utilized the Force once again to guide himself back to the same area they had been in before, and to control how hard he fell. Turning a deadly fall to a light tap of boot to metal ground. Mace turned up, still glaring, willing the ship to near to him. He raised his hand, a desperate idea coming to him to somehow rip the ship from the atmosphere and save Palpatine. Then it burst from sight far into the atmosphere. He recoiled his hand, and knew it was too late. It was gone, Grievous was gone, he had been here! The Chancellor, he too was now also gone. A harsh scorched smell fluttered up into his nostrils and he peered down noting his cloak was marred in new burns from the ship. Indeed even Master Windu knew he had taken a bold and foolish move just now, and had come out unscathed.

"The Force was with me." He intoned thankfully. Thankful for something at least. That was until the Force again buzzed within him. An alarm, or a call of sorts seemed to echo through the great binding power of the universe. He glanced toward the entryway into the bunker where the Chancellor should have been taken, and a sickening thought entered his mind, as he raced toward it. Wishing that he and Master Yoda had for once, been wrong in their intuition but moments ago.

"This karking thing, this karking line of code! I know you're laughing at me, I can hear it! All those whistles and buzzes! Kriff!" Julaen cursed as he read over the code within the jamming signal for the one-hundredth time. A stray blast rattled his cubicle again as the men around him continued their relaying of news, reports, and reading over codes. A useless thing to do with droid binary unless you had the mind of a droid he thought.

"Wait." He said aloud pushing back into his seat. His eyes turning upwards. Julaen knew that in this moment he was the exact image of a holomovie actor coming to a realization, but kriff it! His mind was suddenly alight in thought.

"Mind of a droid! Haha!" He laughed so loud the men around him all turned with deaf concern before returning to their own duties.

"No not some sociopathic geonosian! You were made a by an oil sucking droid! You're droid binary encryption layered over a Separatist key!" Julaen pulled up onto his terminal a rudimentary droid binary resolution program and he copied the code, thought to be some grand new structure made by brilliant Confederate coders.

The program took but seconds to come back with a broken binary speech pattern for…

"A karking librarian droid?! You've gotta be..." He seethed but let it soon turn to a ragged sigh. The code was a librarian droid's native encryption pattern. Some idiot Separatist coder had clearly thought he or she or it was being super clever layering actual programmable logic underneath junk data from some droid binary. He solved the encryption, he entered it into the machine, a basic librarian droid's instructional manual, all 546 pages of it, turned into a single line of code. He got past it and saw the mother-load. The whole Praesitlyn code with a few basic modifications to run in a wider band across the whole system.

"Colonel Nurris! I've got the jamming code!" Julaen cried jumping from his seat, sweat clearly visible along his brow and staining his clothes. The men around him gawked and gaped. He felt ready to vomit.

In fact he did.

He hurried into the doorway of this relatively unremarkable building and through several equally unremarkable corridors before he came upon a steep set of stairs that led down to the actual bunker. It was moody, and perhaps even eerie how dead it was. No security turrets or checkpoints, no guards not even those senatorial blue guards or the Chancellor's favored crimson guardsmen. It was dead, and that simply made his heart race a little more. A bad omen perhaps, as the Force echoed in the aftermath of whatever had happened here. Though he already had an idea of what.

He raced down the steps, his legs tired, but he ignored the pain and stiffness of it all. He neared the lower level which led into a room that was darker than the large antechamber he found himself. Coming to a sudden stop just within the doorway. His dark eyes traced the figures fallen along the floor, and he felt his features twist sadly, tinged by the faintest bit of disgust against the thing now running into the atmosphere that had done this. Mace saw the fallen bodies of Masters Moudama and Corobb. Their lightsabers nowhere to be found, but deep gashes, burns left along their bodies in jagged merciless traces. Their own lightsabers nowhere to be seen.

The faint flickering of light had not been lost to him, and he pulled his eyes away from his dead brothers of the Order upwards. He felt his eyes widen once more and his breath catch ever so slightly.

"Shaak Ti!" Mace called upon seeing one of his sister's within the order strung up from the ceiling, bound by straps that pulsated with electricity. Her body did not shift so much, he already presumed she was doing all she could with the Force to stave off the pain and torture. Still, her eyes managed to claw open and see him. Before they quickly shut again.

"I've failed." She gave in thrumming a voice tinged with the currents blistering across and through her body. Mace felt his face harden again. Not against Master Ti, but rather against the defeated tone in which she spoke. It was not the first time she had been so utterly humbled against General Grievous sure. Yet, this time the burn had to be far more heavily felt. She had indeed failed to save the Chancellor, and retreat him to his bunker. Mace didn't think it served any purpose to let her ruminate on this though.

"We shall deal with that later, Master." Mace intoned slightly more solemn then even he expected as he used the Force and forcefully unbound the electrified straps and tossed them unceremoniously aside. Shaak loosed a quivering breath, as though she had been holding it, and Mace leapt ahead and caught her, easing her down to the ground. Her body shook with muscles and nerve spasms and she still failed to fully open her eyes through the pain.

"I'll call for a medical unit to-"

"No!" She cried finally managing to hoarsely intake a breath. Her right hand reached up and grappled his tunic neck.

"H...he has th...the Chancellor!" Through shivering breathes wracked by her torture she emphasized.

"If...if he ge…gets...if he leaves the system...the whole Republic wi…will..." She could not finish as her eyes once more shut in pain, and Mace gripped her hand in his own and willed the Force from himself into her to calm her worn and beaten body. He silently observed her with empathetic eyes, he took in her burned cloak and bruised body showing with electrical burns clearly older than those binds from before. She had clearly dealt with a great ordeal. One Mace intended to hear the entirety of at some point. He cast a glance to the fallen Moudama and Corobb and sighed.

"What would you have me do?"

"N...no medical unit! Make th...the call and get af….after that monster!"

"Alright." Mace nodded and eased her down to the ground. She seethed in pain through grit teeth but said nothing in reply as Mace yanked his comlink from the folds of his cloak. Still miraculously in place through all the events of the day.

"This is Master Windu calling all units that can receive this broadcast, we have a Code 1 alert! The Chancellor has been abducted off world, I say again, the Chancellor has been taken."

"This is CSF security central, responding to your communication, Master Windu. All assets will be placed at your disposal!"

"General Windu, this is Gamma Unit in orbit aboard the venator Morose, please repeat transmission. You say the Chancellor has been abducted?!"

"Republic Intelligence responding, Master Windu, please confirm last transmission."

"I can detach any and all available Knights still present within the Temple, Master Windu!" He heard master Drallig announce through a sudden storm of voices broadcasting in response to his own transmission. Indeed he began hearing replies from units on the clear other side of the planet. Outside of his localized communication range.

"Wait...the transmission got through across all bands!"

"What?" Shaak managed wearily.

"The jamming signal! It must have been breached! We can transmit throughout the system."

"And beyond." She breathlessly finished his train of thought.

"Precisely." He would smirk, but his mind immediately flew in a hundred different directions ans needs, and orders fluttered through him.

"All units, this is General Windu, cut all chatter! All transmission are now being received, I don't know when this occurred, but let's work with it. Every Jedi of the Order that is receiving this message in system, you are to break from combat role in orbit and intercept a lone shuttle unit exiting atmosphere over the government sector! Any and all combat units that can assist and intercept you are hereby ordered to reroute via my authorization.

'Yes, to confirm to all units, Chancellor Palpatine has been abducted by General Grievous. The General has been severely damaged in combat, and I would say is likely less than combat effective any longer. All Jedi units should take him down if possible and retrieve the Chancellor, at all costs! Furthermore, all emergency recall beacons are to be activated to all out-of-system units across the galaxy. All, and I do mean, ALL available assets are to return to Coruscant immediately. Enemy units have clearly activated gravity well generators. Well, now it's our turn, no ship of their exists this system until the Chancellor is returned planet-side!"

"Master Windu, this is Master Sageon with Green-Boma and Magenta-Wing squadrons, as well as Master Jill at my command. We're near to intercept and are en route to approximate location of shuttle unit exiting atmosphere! We'll keep you appraised Master!"

"Very well, L'lacielo, you and Master Jill do what you can. Do not let them escape!"

"Yes, Master. Sageon out." He heard a litany of other commands, new commands, sudden voices that had been silenced by the enemy jamming signals announce themselves wildly over the comm signals and waves. Many ships and captains as well as fighter and interceptor wings were breaking from engagements to make for the anticipated location of the shuttle carrying not just Palpatine, but Grievous himself. The true intent of this whole operation now becoming more and more clear as the seconds ticked by. It almost caused Mace's head to spin from the revelations.

"You've got...a few more calls...to make." Shaak Ti ordered from where she had propped herself up slightly along the floor. Mace turned to her, a puzzled look to his face. Until he realized what she meant. Or rather, whom she meant. It was true, he knew inwardly as his face turned knowing and stern as was custom of him. They needed those two now more than ever. Their little treks to Nelvaan and Tythe, now showing themselves to be little more than distant distractions. Pieces in this grand old puzzle. Still, as his mind raced with many questions, thoughts, strategies and needs, Mace wondered just how this whole thing had been so expertly planned. Some could call it luck, but he and every Jedi knew better. There was no luck.

"Only the Force." He intoned low enough for Master Ti not to hear.

"It's time the Republic's heroes come home then." Mace declared as he snatched at his comlink again.

Alarms had been blaring for hours, and it was no secret as to why. The sky was on fire. Blues and greens bristle along the atmosphere and the distant star laced skies beyond. Crimson red blasts and the hint of purple hues and pure white blazing bolts of turbolaser fire returned across those same open skies. The warbling of nearing vulture droids sounded out as wings of ARC-170s gave chase, or vice versa. Coruscant, nearby, relatively at least, was rippling with fire in its atmosphere as the scanners and relays were alight with thousands of warships. Already some among the highest levels of military began declaring this the largest naval engagement in recorded galactic history. Dwarfing all scenes of warfare seen in now log forgotten wars. Indeed all past struggles seemed so far and foolish as to imagine them to have ever held any relevance in the long history of the galaxy.

Many men had this on their minds, and had since this horrid battle had begun. They remained stationary, near sickeningly so as they waited by the masses. Those that mattered though, they were the men who wore the officer suits and their prestigious caps and plates of decoration and rank. Their vast structures remained untouched. None within the Separatist faction knew of what waited here on the surface of Centax-2. If they did, they showed little understanding of just how plentiful this mass was. This often times perceived barren moon of the mighty Coruscant now held along its surface and deep within stations and facilities a sizable portion to add into this unfolding equation. They only awaited the signal to let them loose. It finally was to come, as all the channels suddenly came back to life, and a hail of screams, orders, and intelligence reports streamed like a water rapid freed from the confines of a dam.

"This is General Morganex of Centax-2." Morganex, an older man of his mid forties, graying hair, hardened blue eyes, and roughened lines borne across his fair features. His brow was furrowed as the long hoped for call now seemed to have been made to him.

"General Morganex, this is Sate Pestage, Councilor to the Supreme Chancellor. Sending verification code, Xesh-Zeresh-Esk-Dorn-001-Nen. How do you receive?" Sate spoke through his small holographic image, and seemed as deadpan and gruff as ever. Indeed to Morganex and his staff of officers the man seemed bored as hell broke out through the system.

"You're received well, Adviser Pestage, sir."

"Very good. Clearly you've been appraised of the situation facing the system, General?"

"Yes, sir." Morganex replied with a bob of his head and clasped his hands behind his back in formal a manner and stance.

"Then you've been made aware of the utter ineptitude to which the Jedi Order has reached in their protective duties to the Chancellor?" Morganex sniffled. Not wanting to get into the quandary of blame labeling or placement. Though he like everyone in the entire system had heard General Windu's revelation but moments prior across all comm channels.

"We've...all been made aware of the current predicament, Adviser. We are still standing by with all ready units prepped." He informed, quickly choosing to change subject matter. Sate seemed to find that agreeable as he nodded.

"Very good. Then you will be happy to hear that I have signed my name to a Special Advisory Council Declaration Order."

"To what end, sir?" Sate gave a slight chuckle. Clearly happy with...something.

"In the absence of the Supreme Chancellor, responsibility for retrieval operations and military command falls to the Vice Chair. In this case, the Advisory Council has formed a leading body in the aftermath of Palpatine's abduction. The Declaration Order, 2323, hereby orders all units upon Centax-2 activated. Half of your units will join the space battle in progress with the further half to make for Coruscant. Enemy forces are still falling to the surface in great numbers, and these new clone units will be of great need and use I'm sure. Despite their less than Kaminoan standard of creation."

"Maybe so, sir. However, you will find the clones produced here on Centax-2 more than capable of dealing with any droid." Morganex declared proudly.

"We'll see, General. The Declaration Order and further confirmation from the necessary bodies, Director Isard, Amedda, Moore, myself and yadda yadda, they're all present and accounted for. You may keep your reserves on the moon's surface to repel likely incoming droid incursion once they realize what's streaming from Centax-2, but the main force is to be dispersed as so declared." Sate seemed bored once again, wearily reading his notes on what he needed to address. Odd, Morganex thought. Since the Chancellor had been taken but moments ago. Then again, the bodies of government within the Republic were one to craft contingencies on top of contingencies.

"As the Advisory Council wishes, sir." Morganex replied after skimming over the order sent in aurebesh coded format as men nearby nodded their belief in its full validity.

"However, I should like to state, we haven't the naval capacity to meet the growing enemy numbers and threat, sir. Even if my men reach the fleet they will be little more than bodies added to the ships currently engaged."

"Needn't you worry about that, General. You get those men that are bound for Coruscant through to the surface. The ones to join the fleet will do so promptly. Once reinforcements arrive, they will be needed for the new fleets."

"'Fleets?' Plural?"

"Call it a surprise, General." Sate intoned with an air of sarcasm before he cut out.

"Damnable politicians and their secrets." Morganex intoned as he snapped his hand along one of the computer consoles.

"All units, all units; this is General Morganex broadcasting along all facilities of Centax-2! To your stations, I repeat, to your stations! Commands will be issued! All units, to your transport stations. This is not a drill!" His voice boomed in a mechanical laced echo across many halls of metal dug deep and across the entirety of one of Coruscant's moon. Hundreds of feet flew into action. Joined by thousands, and in turn it became an unknown millions.

Centax-2 had been awakened.

"This is Director Armand Isard of Republic Intelligence, transmitting identity verification codes. Desh-Desh-Cresh-Aurek-165-Besh, how do you receive?"

"Affirmative, Director Isard. We've just received a blast of garbled transmissions from the capitol. Can you verify?" A younger and somewhat lankier man, Kuat of House Kuat asked of Isard's holographic image. In the background of the massive planet encircling Drive Yards in which Kuat found himself the streaming of horrid chatter played out in comm buzzing. Wails of men, requests for reinforcements and packets sending distress beacons hours old streamed into their comm units. His men and assisting droids hurriedly checked the dates of transmissions and shut them down. Meanwhile Armand, ever the stoic bureaucrat held the face of deep frowning concern, and raggedness of whatever was happening on Coruscant.

"In short, the capitol is under full siege by Confederate forces directly led by General Grievous. Approximately," Armand checked his chrono, almost dramatically.

"Fifteen minutes ago, Chancellor Palpatine was abducted by Grievous personally. The Jedi escorting his Eminent Person have failed spectacularly."

"Wha….but-"

"In the meantime," Armand cut Kuat off before the man, dressed in his flashy and expensive regalia, could stutter out his pointless questions.

"In the absence of the Supreme Chancellor, responsibility for retrieval operations and military command falls to the Vice Chair. In this case, the Advisory Council has formed a leading body in the aftermath of Palpatine's abduction." He sounded almost robotic, script like in his declaration.

"What does that mean, Director?"

"It means that the Advisory Council, encompassing several prominent figures including myself have assumed temporary control of the Republic's upper apparatus until the Chancellor can be retrieved from Grievous. To that end," Armand sent a data packet.

"Have your local men verify that."

"What is it?"

"A data packet with the Council's official authorization for enactment of Special Advisory Council Declaration Order 2324." Kuat felt his lips curl in confusion. 2324? When did they have time to enact so many such special declarations? Or were the numbers rando-

"Per this order, I am presenting my official word atop the order. All naval units kept in reserve as per the Chancellor's strict orders are hereby ordered into immediate active service. You will deploy all units from Kuat to Coruscant at once."

"All of…it is certainly doable." Kuat stopped himself as such a mammoth task suddenly smashed into him. He chanced a glance outside one of the viewports to the vastness that were the Kuat Drive Yards. Where indeed Chancellor Palpatine had ordered the creation of a new armada numbering in the thousands. Within the system those ships that had long been complete waited in the deep cold of space for use. That time seemed to have come.

"The full armada can be prepped and battle ready within…." He paused to hopefully gauge what answer would be best accepted by the Director. However, the man was stony, as one could imagine an Intelligence Director to be.

"We can have the armada ready in four hours, sir."

"You have three, Kuat."

"Doable." Kuat nodded. Thanking the stars he offered the overestimation.

"The current force at my disposal can man the main arteries of the forces available. Droids stationed as secondary operations units will have to get the ships up and running. They'd be little more than skeleton crews, Director Isard."

"Needn't you worry about manpower shortages, Kuat. When this armada arrives in system, they will be replenished with fresh bodies for operation."

"So suddenly?"

"Best you leave such military particulars with those whom are dealing with the matter, Kuat."

"Yes, of course, Director Isard." Kuat bowed.

"Very good. Do keep me appraised of your timetable, Kuat. Isard out." He nodded a single stiff nod before the transmission cut.

"Well today just got quite interesting!" Kuat beamed. As he moved to the central viewport available to him, his men dutifully and without further word already sending the orders. Sure, the task seemed titanic in scope, but it excited him. As ships across the entire line of the Drive Yards thrummed to distant life. Lights brimming on aft, portside, stern, and as their engines roared to a fiery birth of power! He reveled in the majestic beauty of such mechanical grandeur, as was the premier domain of Kuat and her Drive Yards.

"Technician Dafit."

"Yes Technician Kuat, sir?" The simple man garbed in the standard uniform dress of the Kuat operators team replied from his desk nearby.

"I want the first of the Imperator-class ordained the flagship of the armada."

"The Executrix, sir?"

"Yes, let the galaxy and the Confederacy marvel upon the latest wonder of the Kuat Drive Yards. The first of the Imperator-class, the Imperial-Class stardestroyers!" Kuat beamed further as his eyes danced in the reflection of the viewport's glass. Beyond it lay the slumbering giant of a warship. Kuat imagined it would in time come to supersede all such ships that had come before her. He looked forward to that.

Anakin and Obi-Wan sat together in another conference room aboard the ship as the troopers from Tythe continued streaming back aboard the gathered fleet of ships. The anticlimax that was Tythe had come to a close now. All local resistance far from the minds of everyone. The sudden end to hostilities setting the clones on edge, and the officers into a frenzy of confusion and disappointment. Anakin would perhaps feel the same, were his heart not racing at the thoughts that now plagued him and had been doing so for the last half hour.

"Anakin, I can feel your anxiety from here, relax."

"I'll relax as soon as some actual credible intelligence comes through."

"Worrying about it won't do any good."

"It's not 'worrying' its tactical self review."

"Wow, what an incredible new term you've discovered. I'll continue to use the word 'deflection' thank you Anakin." Anakin for his part huffed a sigh and crooked his neck to stare sideways at Obi-Wan.

"What am I supposed to do, sit here and not worry about what could be going on? There's a lot to lose on Coruscant. And not just politically."

"What do you-" Obi-Wan paused, only then getting what Anakin meant.

"Oh...right. Well...even if the worst imaginable situation is underway, you and I both know Padmé is a resourceful woman. Even a droid invasion wont hold her down. I learned that even before you did. Though I didn't exactly know she was queen." Anakin managed a small snicker as memories of the invasion of Naboo flashed over his mind. Far more brief than Obi-Wan's he was sure.

"I know. I just worry."

"I suppose that's normal for married couples." Obi-Wan seemed genuinely to have just realized that. The older Jedi having committed to his standard rubbing of his chin in thought.

"Maybe I worry too much."

"'Maybe?!'"

"Alright, I do! I know I do. I guess I just have...anxieties about...a lot of things."

"Loss has always been-"

"General Kenobi, General Skywalker, come in sirs." The holoterminal cut Obi-Wan off and before them came into sight one of the Republic upper military echelon officers stationed at Anaxes.

"Go for Kenobi and Skywalker." Obi-Wan replied.

"We've received the same affirmative report from Coruscant that we did earlier, sirs. A HoloNet link has been damaged that is scrambling all in and outbound messages from the system."

"Yes, but a data packet told you all of that." Anakin stated, not asked.

"Well, yes sir, but this would not be the first time Coruscant has lost contact with the wider HoloNet. Several prominent worlds in the Core have lost contact with the wider galaxy for days or even weeks due to technical errors."

"Sure, but it's a Coruscant, and we're at war." Anakin returned matter-of-factly. The man shuffled somewhat uncomfortably. Clearly aggravated, but also flustered by Anakin's train of thought. Neither Jedi paid much mind to the men moving in the background of the holotransmission.

"I've made an official request for an in-system observation to confirm all is good, General Skywalker sir. However, I don't think the travel time will be acceptable for the need you have."

"There's no 'need.' Simply a desire to put my mind at ease. We've just been taunted by Count Dooku himself into a distraction with clear indication the old man has something up his sleeve. Coinciding with loss of contact with Coruscant. What am I supposed to think in these times?"

"I-"

"Marshall Hallafax, sir!" The Marshall whirled where he stood.

"Incoming large data-stream backlog from Coruscant!"

"Corporal I am in the middle of-" He began sternly and quite irritable.

"I must interject sir!" The unseen man called.

"Codes, alerts, requests for reinforcements hours old sir!" Another man caused the Marshall to whirl in an entirely different direction.

"Kriff." Anakin hung his head and lowly cursed as Obi-Wan felt a tingling anxiety ripple through his whole body. Clearly Anakin didn't like being right, and frankly neither did Obi-Wan most days.

"Oh dear."

"An understatement." Anakin retorted. Frankly only thing Obi-Wan could do was shrug his muted agreement.

"What are you talki-"

"All forces, all forces! This is Admiral Marborune of the Coruscant Home Fleet, massive enemy force has dropped right on top of us! All available units across the reachable zones of the Core are recalled via emergency declaration to the capitol!" Hallafax was visibly shaken over the holocall and struggled to formulate words for a moment.

"When was that sent?"

"Several hours ago sir, it's one of many transmissions only just now reaching us."

"General Kenobi, Skywalker...I-"

"Best begin making preparations as you can, Admiral. We'll be well on our way."

"Ye...yes sirs!" The Admiral was both grateful for the cessation to their call, and clearly still not totally registering what was unfolding. The call ended, but within seconds a voice boomed over their room's comm system.

"General's sir, all units across the galaxy are receiving emergency hails from the Core! We are beginning immediate reroute measures, and are prepping for immediate jump to hyperspace."

"Understood, Captain. Carry on as you will."

"I'll personally begin preparations of the troops in just a moment!" Anakin followed up causing Obi-Wan to cast him a curious glance.

"Affirmative, General's." Was all the Captain replied before the transmission cut.

"Anakin, what do-"

"Hold on, Master." Anakin silenced Obi-Wan as his comlink began blaring, followed by Obi-Wan's.

"This just keeps getting better." Obi-Wan quipped.

"I'll answer." Obi-Wan snapped his comlink alive which did in fact silence both units and an image of Master Windu came before them both. Wordlessly Obi-Wan rerouted the call to the table terminal they had been using before.

"Master Kenobi, Skywalker, Coruscant is under attack!"

"We've just been made aware, Master." Anakin replied, somewhat out of turn, but Mace didn't seem to notice. Or, perhaps care at the moment.

"A massive Confederate fleet had come out right on top of the Home Fleet and decimated it. Several thousand vessel still maintain resistance against the Separatist force, but with the enemy jamming signals finally brought down we expect a flood of reinforcements in the near future."

"What do you need of us, Master?" Obi-Wan inquired lowering himself into a lean against the table.

"You're being recalled, the both of you. Priority one, will be the return of the Chancellor."

"What?!" Anakin jumped up.

"General Grievous personally led a strike force onto the surface and has taken Palpatine. We've lost Masters Moudama and Corobb and Master Ti is severely injured." He laid out calmly but his dark features betrayed a most un-Jedi like anger that he was fighting against.

"The General has been severely hurt himself…Master Sageon and Pablo Jill are, as we speak attempting to intercept the shuttle, but it may well reach Grievous' command ship. Needless to assume, the Separatists will attempt a retreat with the Chancellor held captive."

"An apt assessment."

"One we can't allow come to fruition!"

"Obviously not, Skywalker." Obi-Wan, Anakin and Mace spoke respectively.

"All gravity wells are being activated, but this battle may well become drawn out for days with the rate of enemy reinforcement arrivals. They continue to stream out into the system by the hundreds. Several thousand are in orbit, and the Home Fleet remains battered, but this has already been spoken to."

"The recall order has already been met by Anaxes, Master. As well our fleet has begun preparations to return to Coruscant."

"That's good to hear, Obi-Wan." Mace seemed genuine.

"Yes, but even if we burn our hyperdrives at max speed without rest it would take us...maybe two or three days to reach Coruscant!"

"What would you have us do, Anakin?" Obi-Wan replied.

"I wasn't implying we do something else, Master. We can't, I don't think." His eyes darkened.

"I am just wondering if Coruscant can weather a battle for days on end?"

"It will have to, if we hope of salvaging this mess." Mace sternly and matter-of-factly gave in reply.

"Regardless of the current situation, Grievous made a point of hunting down Palpatine and taking him alive. That can only mean he doesn't want him dead."

"More likely Dooku doesn't want him dead." Anakin intoned loud enough for both to hear.

"If that's the case then we may have time, but it the battle should turn for the worst the Separatists may well kill the Chancellor as an act of defiance. If we begin losing we may lose him to a hyperspace jump. That cannot be allowed."

"We understand, Master." Obi-Wan bowed his head.

"I am placing the command at your feet, Obi-Wan. I will send constant appraisals of the ground and orbital situation your way. Should we manage a retrieval in the meantime your orders will be modified. Until sch a time, however, I want you, and your old apprentice to begin marking up plans on a rescue operation."

"Sounds like a plan." Anakin, again rather out of turn spoke up. Mace again ignored it. He even seemed to nod in response.

"I have to tend to the ground situation alongside Master Yoda. Until otherwise, you have your orders."

"Yes, Master. We understand. Obi-Wan spoke for both of them.

"Good. May the Force be with us all." Mace cut the call, and left the two in a moment of silence.

"Dammit all! I hate being right!"

"Yes, but now that we know you are we need to plan."

"Yeah I have a plan."

"That being?"

"I find Grievous and ring his mechanical neck!"

"A most agreeable sentiment, but handily outside of your place as a Jedi." Obi-Wan warned. Again Anakin raised his hands in defeat.

"Yeah I know! I know…" His features darkened again, his mind obviously going somewhere...dark.

"She'll be fine, my friend. Like I said before we even knew for a fact this wall all happening, Padmé is as strong willed as she is resourceful. Force, she's probably down on the planet ensuring everyone is safe and sound, before demanding a blaster herself!" Obi-Wan gave a genuine smirk and patted Anakin's shoulder. His old padawan showed just a hint of appreciation. A faint glimmer of a smirk also crossing his features.

"I hope...I know you're right, Master."

"Of course I am!" Obi-Wan managed a chuckle before slapping Anakin's shoulder and motioning him toward the door.

"Come along then. You promised to inspect the troops. Best we get to that, and then to planning."

"Right. We'll be burning fuel from here to Corellia." Anakin gave a hearty sigh and followed Obi-Wan out.

Stress being the call of this day.

"Master I've got the shuttle in sight!"

"I see it Jill, I see it! Magenta Wing, take up along Master Jill's right flank and move into covering position!"

"Copy all General Sageon." Magenta Lead replied as a flurry of ARC-170's bounded ahead and provided a screen of wings along Pablo Jill's right. His own actis warbling through the vacuum toward the shuttle very distantly made out ahead.

"Green-Boma Lead, follow up on my left, we'll be moving in along this shuttle! Our objective is to force it out of its current trajectory and turn it toward an upward advance!"

"Copy, General, moving into position." Again the fighters bounded ahead, as Sageon glanced on either side and noticed an increase of Confederate warships changing course. Clearly on their way to provide a screen of their own and intercept. The battles raging between them and more further out ships still an ever present danger to this mix.

"Calling the Morose, come in, this is General Sageon."

"This is Captain Arikson of the Morose. We read you loud and clear, general Sageon, sir."

"Captain, your ship needs to advance to coordinates Besh-13-Desh-15-Zeta. If we are capable Master Jill and myself will force Grievous' and his shuttle into your pathway. If you're there in time you could pull him into your localized tractor range."

"Copy sir. Acclamators Confidence, and Clarity-IV will act as support vessels. Moving now."

"Thank you, Captain. Sageon out." The older lorrdian Jedi loosed another deep sigh as he felt his heart race and pulled the Force around him. On cue, a swarm, numbering damn well into the hundreds, of vulture droids swung from around the far starboard side of a turned enemy lucrehulk-class battleship. All headed their way and conveniently passing by the shuttle as it continued its upward ascent out of Coruscant's atmosphere.

"Magenta, Green-Boma's watch your aim, and weapons free!"

"Copy all!"

"Engaging." Both replied respectively and the 170's began banking themselves as the vultures loosed a crimson storm of fire tat erupted the void around them in momentary bursts of smoke. Sageon set his foils into attack position and his ship gave a hard rightward spin as he unleashed a hail of green turret fire that easily exterminated five to seven vultures. However, this was a swarm.

The other Republic fighters and Master Jill's interceptor seemed to fall into similar patterns. All taking evasive maneuvers as the vultures swung around them or passed them unleashing a hail of fire. All of them decimated their numbers sending chunks of fragmented and scorched debris into Coruscant's orbit. Yet, they kept coming. This was the advantage of droids that did not fear for their own 'lives.' They came in droves, firing, some even ripping their fellow droid pilots apart, but all intent on killing them to stop their approach against Grievous.

"L'lacielo, your left!"

"I see them Pablo!" Sageon replied coming to a stop in his spin and banking downward right as a triplet team of droid tri-fighters burst onto the scene. Their guns flared pelting a wing of vultures to Sageon's rear and sending a fiery display erupting. The three droids didn't seem to mind and zoomed inward and around for another pass.

"Magenta's along my aft, incoming tri-fighters!"

"Pulling off now, General." Two ARC-170's zoomed ahead and zipped around in a synchronized upward flip and turn. They loosed a barrage of green bolts and scattered the tri-fighters. However, as they scattered ten vultures zipped through the barrage taking the beating but firing in return. One of the 170's erupted in an explosive wave that gushed metal in all directions. Some flew into and ruptured other nearby vulture droids.

"Boma Lead, enemy wing at our seven!"

"I see them, I see them!"

"Magenta three pull off you're being followed!

"Copy, I've got a bogey on my-" He was silenced as a line of tracing droid missiles flew downward as twenty or so vultures fell down upon them like rain born from the depths of far space.

"Master, the shuttle is on the same trajectory!" Pablo announced through his thick accented voice. Sageon, grit his teeth in a desperate attempt to focus. Through the sweat that bead down his face and stung his eyes he could make out the shuttle in the distance still on an upward ascent. He chanced a glance, allowing his senses to guide his control of his ship, and peered upward. There he saw three Providence-class destroyers. The flanking two were loosing a barrage of free spray fire on distant Republic warships. Several of which were already burning and decaying their orbit. Others were limply returning fire.

"Master Jill, we need to throw them off their main course!"

"Wish me luck then!"

"What?! No wait, Pablo!" Sageon cried as he saw his friend's actis break formation and burst ahead in a spiral. The droid ships incoming fired freely but Jill evaded utilizing the speed and guidance of the Force. His ship firing in seeming random but the bolts ripping droid after droid apart. Pablo made a line directly for the shuttle, and caused at least half of the droids swarming around and through Sageon's formation to break rank and give chase.

"Kriff!" Sageon gave a rare curse.

"Boma Wing break rank, and pelt Master Jill's tag-alongs!"

"Copy, General!" The whole wing broke their formation and made erratic evasive moves as they fired round after round into the 'retreating' droid backs. Giving them time and freedom to eviscerate dozens of them.

"Boma, form your squad up, and follow me around!"

"On it!" Their leader gave in reply as the wings pulled in around him at great peril to themselves.

"Reverse, reverse!" Sageon gave a command, and all ships came to dead stops before zooming up and around. They all immediately loosed in their arrow formation a volley of renewed fire that burnt a hole through the oncoming swarm. They burst through that fiery hole as the droids around it broke away and began zipping and flying to and fro to pull around and return fire.

"Again!" The wing did so and tore up and around firing a renewed volley that pierced through another oncoming swarm and thinned their numbers considerably. The vultures fired at will, and it was not without its cost.

"Four, on your nine!"

"I've got, AH!" His ship exploded causing Boma-three and two to break away lest they take four's projectiles and themselves meet his same end.

"Pull off, seven, pull off, you've got maybe five rounding your tail!" Their lead commanded as number seven banked right and left in forward momentum and dodged the pelting horizontal rain of crimson fire.

"Three, six, break off and give up dive support!"

"Copy lead, six on me!" Three replied as both ships tore upward and maintained that trajectory. They peeled off only a few droids and did their best to dodge them on their ascent. L'lacielo tore his eyes away and watched as Pablo bounded still further away toward the shuttle. It was now beginning to fire itself. A hail of side-mounted cannons twisting to open up on Jill, who did not return fire, but expertly dodged the bolts. The droids giving chase now also seemed apprehensive, for lack of a better term, at approaching. Their own fire dying down. It gave Sageon a glimmer of hope, as Pablo managed to disrupt the shuttle enough to get its trajectory slightly off its main upward advance.

"This is Captain, Arikson of the Morose. We've made our approach and our advancing on enemy warships. Three Providence-class destroyer's dead ahead. All nearby Republic vessel provide support if possible. Beginning our final approach now, all forward batteries, weapons free!" Indeed the thrumming through space as massive green and blue shining orbs danced over his hatched came forth. In his 'overhead' sector through the void the single venator flanked by two acclamators neared and pelted the Providence classes with a litany of fire. In kind all three Providences returned fire and a swarming barrage of returned fire loosed between the six warships. The forward shields along all the vessels holding out, for a time at least.

"Master Jill, keep harrying the shuttle! Try to force them into tractor range of the Morose!"

"On, it Master Sageon!" Pablo replied as his actis committed a dangerously close flyby that caused the shuttle, still firing endless crimson bolts his way, to twist out of his path and move nearer to the Republic warships.

"Incoming, incoming!" One of the Magenta wings howled into his comm. Sageon hadn't even a moment to look, as the Force screamed and by instinct he yanked his interceptor upward into a harsh ascent. The screams of several fighter pilots echoed out both audibly and through the Force as the rest of the wings broke apart in disarray.

"What happened?!"

"Barrage, barrage! Nine, I don't have you on visual!"

"Lead, there's incoming four o'clock!"

"Dammit." Sageon cursed again and again pulled his interceptor around. As he did so he watched in horrifying detail, as a new wave, larger than the one than before, of vulture droids laced with tri-fighters buzzed around what little remained of the Boma's and Magenta's. It was like watching an army of some form of bees swarm across their hive.

"Magenta Lead, Boma Lead, get your fighters out of there!"

"Negative!" Magenta howled back as Sageon watched his ship dart by several vultures, leading those chasing him into fiery collisions with them.

"We've got them pinned! They're focusing on us, General! You and General Jill take the shuttle! We'll handle this!"

"I concur!" Boma lead screamed a curse after as the harsh sound of buzzing electronics made its way to Sageon's ears. The elder Jedi Master opened his mouth to protest. His palms sweating and adrenaline racing. He turned his head and saw Jill in the distance trying to push the shuttle further away from arrival range of the Providence-classes. Above him the six warships slaughtered one another. Plums of fighter jet forth out into the vacuum as their shields fell here and thee. Metal rain cascaded, and ejected outward the echoes of may deaths fluttering over the Force as it happened.

He didn't want to leave them. He knew what they were offering for this mission. Their lives surely had to mean more than this?

But then, who was he to make that choice for them? Clones they were, and free men to do as they felt necessary. He bowed his head.

"Copy all. Magenta, Boma Lead, do what you can."

"Aye, general sir!"

"Copy, General!" They replied respectively, and Sageon whirled his interceptor around and tore on after Jill.

"Alright Master Jill, we're on our own. Let's round this monster in toward the Morose!"

"Yes, Master!" Jill replied, his voice not betraying any emotion. Undoubtedly his fellow Jedi's mind was far too wrapped up in maintaining this special dance with Grievous' shuttle.

"Break portside!" Sageon ordered as his interceptor continued to lose in. Pablo did so.

"What are you-" Sageon's ship loosed a hail of turret fire that nearly clipped the shuttle.

"Master Sageon!"

"Hold on!" He replied as they watched the shuttle bank to its right and move further away from the ascent to the Providences.

"If we have to play their game then let's do it!" Sageon retorted and loosed another hail that forced the shuttle to adjust target to his and unleash a barrage of bolts his way. However, just then a flurry of fire jetted by the shuttle from the opposite direction tearing it into an evasive dive that took it further out from the enemy warships. Pablo's actis bounded in behind the fire, and the fellow Jedi fell into line with Sageon.

"Not the worst idea of the day."

"Indeed, now you pull him back, and I'll advance downward!"

"Copy!" Jill flipped his ship around and loosed another flurry as Sageon tore up into an ascent from which he dived down from firing. The two streams of bolts controlling the path the shuttle now took.

One that inched it closer and closer to the Republic.

Grievous howled another cough from where he was leaning his shattered and broken frame against the wall of the shuttle interior. His ego and body battered, and both to be unspoken of as his golden eyes burned with the fires of Mustafar.

"General, we're being directed nearer to the enemy warships." One magnaguard, robotic and baritone in voice, mentioned from the cockpit.

'The General has been severely damaged in combat, and I would say is likely less than combat effective any longer.' Grievous heard those words ring in his head. The transmission beamed across all channels by that damnable Windu! His claws, shaking in both rage and mechanical failure along his right shoulder rotors, burrowed into the metal along the same wall he looked to for support.

"'Less than combat effective...'" Grievous echoed in a low thrumming growl. A violent cough wracked him again and his eyes squinted through the exhaustive new fit that led to the metal plates remaining along his chest to whine from the force of them.

"'LESS THAN COMBAT EFFECTIVE!'" Again he roared and slammed his fist into the wall visibly denting it as he did so. The guards gathered within and around hi all looked in silence upon their leader in a fit of rage.

"My, you do seem quite put off by what Master Windu made of you." Grievous wordlessly menaced around himself and glared, with a look that could kill, upon the Chancellor. His hands coiled within his lap, and not a worried mannerism to be found along his features.

"Should I-" Grievous began, but gagged and began coughing again, his arm rising to cover a mouth that was nonexistent.

"Should I die!" He semi-finished.

"I will take you with me, old man! Orders or n-"

"Really it's quite strategic." The Chancellor cut him off, and Grievous felt his hands now tear metal shavings from his equally metallic palms.

"The Jedi hounding you now are playing to the fact you cannot take them on, one on one. You have me and yourself in the fray of things. They have a whole ship at their disposal. It would make sense to me that they would lead us to them."

"I don't need another wor-"

"All those vulture droids." Again Grievous was cut off.

"I'm confident they will waste themselves against the finer Republic pilots around us! Why, they can't even be used to damage the Republic warships! Well, save for suicide runs, but that's a preposterous notion. I daresay his hunt is over for you, General." Grievous raised his right hand out, ready to snatch the old man by the throat, but as another cough vomited up from his lungs his eyes widened. A thought, an idea traced over his mind, as he felt the shuttle make another horrid turn to evade the incoming Jedi ships harassing them.

His arm lowered, and he gave a sinister, and characteristic cackle.

"Indeed, you do talk too much, Chancellor. You've given me quite the idea!"

"I've done no such thing!"

"Oh, but you have!" Grievous mocked, as the old man narrowed his gaze.

"Send this order to all fighter units in the vicinity!" Grievous swung and ordered the piloting droids.

Palpatine watched the ghostly mechanical figure turn from him. Before leaning back into his seat and closing his eyes. A single nasally breath escaping his nostrils as he did so.

"Magenta lead, on your right!"

"I see them two!" Lead tore his ship left and watched as to vultures collided into one another from opposing directions.

"I'm on your six, lead!"

"Copy, round up on Boma lead and wing eight." He watched as number two of his wing broke off and rolled a spray of green bolts that ruptured three vultures.

"They're descending! Right on top of us!"

"I've got it!" Magenta lead replied as Boma lead whirled up and around firing on but a small piece of the swarm bubble. Magenta hiked his ship into an ascent posture and as he did so wild sprayed his cannons, each shot blowing apart at least one if not two or three vulture droids. He made the upward turn and indeed saw hundreds of the damn machines falling upon them.

"Kriff me..." He intoned.

The vultures continued to fall, and they neared by the second. Stray shots, wild sprays and desperate attempts at survival played out from the less than a dozen Republic fighters left in this tiny sector. That, did not necessarily end, as the vultures, all of them came to a sudden stop.

Magenta lead peered out still. His eyes glazing over for a moment, before he shook himself.

"Wha...what are they doing?"

"Who cares?! Shoot em out the skies!" One of the pilots replied and indeed lead still heard and saw bolts annihilate droids in random directions. However, the droids around them didn't respond.

"Boma lead, you seeing this?"

"Uh...yeah Magenta lead. You've got any-" The swarm of vultures directly ahead of him, yelled out in their mockingly squeaky binary speak, and all of them whirled ahead, before thrashing around 180 degrees. An all consuming barrage of their glinting metal shone around him as those beneath him and around him followed up after this initial pack. All of them seeming to...retreat?

"Where are they off to?"

"Trajectory?"

"Following!" Boma lead called out and what was left of his tattered wing broke up after the vultures. Magenta lead followed in kind with his wing as the vultures swarmed as a one minded mass upwards, upwards and…

"The Morose?"

"They can't penetrate its shields on their own."

"No...lead I think they're-" The vultures buzzed in their own language once again, and by the hundreds, the literal hundreds, they burned their engines in a drive upwards.

"Kriff! All wings fire!" Boma cried as he got the idea.

"Morose, Morose, this is Magenta lead you've got massive incoming along your hull!" It didn't matter. The firing wings, now left to their own devices, no droids in the immediate area to harass and slaughter them. The Morose, loosing fire against the enemy ships. Its two allied vessels also blissfully unaware or maybe just becoming aware, of the death that hurdled as a thousand boring knives towards their soft underbellies.

Shields, were always the province of blaster shells, certain torpedoes. Such tactics were considered wasteful. But then, who'd miss droids?

The first vulture slammed into the underside of Morose and a fireball ejected out. The second did much the same. Followed by the third, fourth, fifth, eighteenth, thirty-first, eighty-fifth.

The ship erupted in an awe striking display of thunderous explosions that rippled along its underside. The comms became abuzz with screams and orders, given in haste and horror. The same thing showed itself along the underside of the two acclamators and all three Republic ships were torn into by hundreds of small cuts. Death by a thousand needles penetrating through metal plating and shielding until at last the first acclamator thundered in an explosion that ejected hundreds of kilos in metal outward as it cracked diagonally where the droids continued to slam themselves into. The second made an ill fated turn to evade, and the vultures slammed into its engines causing a cascade that ripped the back end of that ship out and blinded all who watched as the engines burned a hole clear out the front of the ship as it melted down.

As the Morose exploded again and again and again, each drive and dive inflicting hell on her, as the Providences flanking the central vessel took their chance and bound forward. All batteries at maximum slammed across the forward compartments and the bridge. All until the vessel and those aboard it died in a final thunderous explosion that shook the vacuum and pushed all accumulating debris out from itself in a corona of death. The wave took but seconds before it ripped apart both Boma and Magenta squads. Silencing them as but a few voices among a dying many thousand.

L'lacielo had watched the horror unfold. His eyes plastered to the scene that had unfold just beyond himself and Master Jill. Both of them, despite themselves had come to a halt. The flurry of fighters burrowing through the Republic warships, metal through metal a sight of horror and profound shock. The Force rattled itself with the deaths of hundreds as the moments dragged on, only more would be felt. The vultures that remained after the ships began to fall apart made no move to leave. They battered themselves through chunk and debris of reasonable size for the mammoths of meta that were now falling further and further into atmospheric decay back to Coruscant below.

"Master Sageon!" L'lacielo shook himself and turned his head as though the voice was there within his cockpit with him.

"Ye...yeah?"

"The shuttle! It's breaking for the command vessel!" L'lacielo lurched himself in his seat around. Cursing he didn't have a view, and turned his ETA about. He then had sight of the shuttle carrying the Chancellor ad Grievous bounding once more towards the now singular Providence-class as its two support destroyers moved up mopping the leftovers away with barrages of turbolaser fire.

"What do we do, Master?" Pablo asked.

"I uh..." Sageon loosed another shaky breath. He closed his eyes and tried to center himself within the Force. Every move had led to a worse outcome than they had meant to escape thus far. That damnable shuttle and its passengers were still inbound for the Confederate warship. Likely the damn flagship itself. L'lacielo hardened his eyes, his hands tensed as they gripped through sweat onto his control sticks.

"Burn engines, Pablo. You and me are following them in."

"Inside the destroyer? Are you crazy?!"

"You heard Master Windu," He began as he already blasted off after the shuttle once more. His attack foils receding in to thin his ship and boost further power to his engines.

"Grievous is hurt. We may have a chance to ward him off, maybe even overwhelm him!"

"That's a heck of a 'maybe,' L'lacielo. But, I guess there's no other option."

"Not presently, Master."

"Then I'm with you." Pablo's actis bound in alongside Sageon as the three ships moved at varying speeds nearer to the hangar bay entry. None of its defensive turrets opened fire, and vultures zoomed about, clawing and crawling along the ship, but dared not make a move with Grievous and his bounty so near. The fly was turned very quiet by their approach. Sweat fell freely along Sageon, and Pablo likely had his nerves rattled. The Force working overtime to calm the two Jedi masters down.

The shuttle entered into the open hangar bay passing the ray shields that separated the interior, lined with fighters, bombers, and a waiting party numbering in the hundreds of battle droids. Behind the shuttle the scream of two lone fighters followed. The shuttle loomed slowly, and did not fire, and neither did any defensive unit or turret sound off. None dared to threaten the life of General Grievous nor his passenger. These droids knew nothing of self preservation, but they knew not to harm nor bring probable and possible harm to their Supreme Commander.

The droids within the hangar all primed their blasters, mounted to wrists, or held in their hands and aimed up as the two fighters loomed in the 'air' within the hangar. The shuttle came to a wheezing halt and descended. Hisses of pressurized air loosening from the descending landing 'feet' of the metal vessel.

The two Jedi carrying vessels fell and landed without incident. The droids neared from where they loomed soundless within this destroyer. The shuttle came to a halt and a final agonizing hiss reverberated throughout the massive bay. Then the landing bay door opened and a piercing light from within illuminated even this well lit domain. A set of shadows stood against this light. Three of them it seemed. The one to the center hunched low, with a cloak, ragged and torn about its frame as it leaned down. The two on either flank, tall, sporting cloaks their own, and staffs that already buzzed with the electrical tips common of these machine warriors.

A horrendous cough gagged through the vocabulator of the central figure, and a lone arm swept up and thrashed outward before coiling back in. The two on his flank descended and were followed by another of their kind, and another. Two lines of magnaguards descended the ramp and filed themselves down, while two escorted the silent Chancellor up from his seat and stood him to the top of the shuttle walkway beside the General.

"Care to-" Grievous was racked by yet another horrid cough that had him slightly double over and shake his head like a wild beast. Palpatine cocked his brow, but said nothing.

"Care to watch more Jedi die?!" His eyes blinded with a noticeable rage, the General bore into Palpatine and asked of him sweeping one arm towards the two ships whose occupants had yet to exit.

Palpatine sniffled in a bored manner before turning his nose up in prominent and noticeable a fashion.

"I will not be bullied by some thug, who cannot even stand on his own two feet. Let alone face what are undoubtedly two of the finest Jedi within the Republic. Victory will only be yours through the swarm of your little machines, General." Grievous shook with a rage that could hardly be contained any longer. He menaced upon Palpatine and came so close his tattered and shredded metal chest plates bumped into Palpatine from where he peered down into his eyes from where he managed to tower.

"You...you dare question my abilities?!" He coughed through his own sentence. Palpatine gave a half smirk, but said nothing.

"Impudent old...FOOL!" He howled through another small fit and threw his arms out as his fingers coiled inwards. The old man tempting him to break his orders to leave him unscathed. Grievous menaced over him, but as his chest contracted against his will, and the whine of his attempts to hide a cough gasped for air, he relented with a growling roar as he jumped back and fell to his left against the shuttle entryway with another even worse off and hoarse cough shrouded by the robotic nature of his voice.

The General opened his eyes to only see Palpatine looking at him with unimpressed a glance. His yellow eyes, fit with black diamonds narrowed once more and Grievous glanced into the distance as the two ships were surrounded by his small army that had awaited them. He looked back to Palpatine.

"I'll show you 'less than combat effective.'" With dark an intone he pushed himself up and stomped down the landing ramp and threw his right arm back signaling the magnaguards to keep Palpatine there.

Grievous waded through the army of machines and they parted as he neared. His stomps baring an echo down through the bay. The outside lights and booms thrumming against the metal of the entire warship beyond them. He approached and as he crossed the distance with ragged coughs ejecting from him, the two ships popped their cockpit hatches. The droid army raised their weapons making ready to fire. Grievous simply held on hand up extending all fingers, and the army, seemed to somehow just know he had done so. The droids, as quickly as they had raised and readied their weapons, pulled them back and those nearest to the ship took a few steps back.

"These Jedi are...mine!" he howled through a single cough that sent a whine through his bent and battered chest plates.

He stomped a final tonged foot down that nearly bent the floor plate in, and as he did so two Jedi stood upright and jumped from their ships. One a human, or near-human, and the other clearly an ongree. Both of them had already disrobed and each sported a saber hilt in one of their hands. The more human like one bore daggers into Grievous as the ongree surveyed the army of droids around them both.

"I hope you realize...your coming to my flagship will only spell your dooms!" Grievous warned through another small fit. One tipped finger jutting their way.

"Hand the Chancellor over, Grievous! Do so and we will leave in peace." The human spoke.

"Filthy Jedi and your feigned….." He ruptured into another fit that loosed what sounded like a servo whine.

"FEIGNED pacifism!" He screamed as though against his own convulsions.

"You're in no state to fight us, General." The ongree with it accented basic remarked.

"Clearly you've been defeated. Only your army of mindless droids stand between us and-"

"Defeated?!" Grievous interjected and stepped forward pulling himself up into a more menacing high stance that cast his shadow upon the Jedi.

"Do I look defeated Jedi scum?! I've killed two of your kind this day!" He seethed and his hands clutched to the opposite hip, and produced two saber hilts.

"These are their lightsabers. Allow me to add yours to my ever growing collection! By the blades of those fallen fools I'll kill the both of you!" Both sabers sprung to life, both of them brilliant blue. The two Jedi snapped their own weapons to life. The ongree's was blue and the old man's was green. They fell into their chosen stances, and Grievous lowered his body. His two blades spinning idly in his hands. His motors there gave off an odd clicking sound and his hip joint along the right was popping, but he paid it no mind. Focusing himself to the death of two more Jedi.

"Die like your Republic around you!" Grievous lost the will to wait, and he dove after the old man on his right. The Jedi fell into a defensive posture Grievous knew to be makashi. The favored form of his own teacher in Dooku. Grievous slammed his feet after him, and as he rounded the old man, he spun himself into a jump left with his right leg slamming down and propelling him. Both sabers spun through the air as they crashed down on the ongree's cerulean blade and the alien backed away parrying the strike. Grievous landed and fell into a familiar series of feints and jabs at the flanks of the alien. One saber slashed right, the other swung up left and then the General swung around, kicking his back foot out and the Jedi, not expecting this fell backward with a thud. Allowing Grievous to form an X and blocked the attack made by the old man.

Grievous slashed both sabers up and forced the man back. He slammed both down with a vicious overhead strike that encompassed all the strength he could muster, but the man parried and made an almost dance like swivel of his body left of Grievous. The General recognized such a tactic, and spun his right leg in, now kicking the old man in his exposed back and with a gasp of air he slammed chest first against the hull of one of their ships.

Grievous had expected to take the chance to cleave the old man's back, but he suddenly lost his footing with his left leg. His eyes bulged in horror as he fell and caught his body on his left forearm. He gagged another furious cough and peered down to see his left hip joint dislodged from a connecting rotor. He howled and deactivated both blades, rolling himself right just as the ongree fell upon him and swung his own saber defensively pointed to the General's face.

The warlord picked himself back up some feet away from the two, and found himself on his left knee. He brought both blades back to life and shook his head as another ragged cough butchered its way from his organ sack. He squinted through the pain and agitation and saw the old man shake off his thud against the ship and join his partner at his side.

Grievous snarled and jumped into a renewed run after the ongree this time. Both Jedi sidestepped and Grievous slashed at the air, before spinning wildly setting both Jedi to back away. He came to a stop and slashed left saber around right and bounced off the ongree's parrying saber, before swinging it around and slashing down right across the old man. But, he caught Grievous' blade and with strength unfit for such an old creature of human look and stature, he slid his saber down and over nearing Grievous' face, but the General pulled back. Grievous thrashed right saber around and set the old man back, as he turned and swiveled the left saber at the ongree's foot as he neared, but the alien dove over and swung down in an ataru fashion. Grievous blocked with his right saber and carried the alien until his momentum dropped him just beyond the General.

The old man ducked and slashed up at Grievous left and he blocked, and the ongree dove straight ahead and cleaved right up at his neck, but again he caught him. Grievous was now horizontal in his posture. He cast his eyes from left to right over and over assessing them, but his rage was mounting. His thoughts were like a pattern of ideas that became jumbled together as a mess of sound, color, and realizations.

With another yell of fury he slashed both blades down and both Jedi were forced down but backed off. Grievous brought his blades up and positioned his arms overhead, ahead of himself. The rotors that connected his hands to his wrists were unscathed, and they began spinning. Two blue beams formed halos ahead of him. On just ahead of the other. Each swing cast a cut of fire through the metal grating beneath himself. He menaced again stomping in after his prey.

The Jedi looked to one another, and the ongree pulled back furthest allowing the old man to take Grievous head on. He also backed away, but slower. His eyes tracing the spinning blades. He hardened his gaze and narrowed his eyes, before he gave a stabbing motion int and his one saber caught both in the middle of their spin cycle. One on the right and left of his saber. Grievous yanked his head left and dodged the blade. The General allowed is sabers to slash in the direction they were caught. One up the other down. Keeping the old man pinned. He backed away from the slash before slashing both blades back down as a crossed X that forced the old man to turn his blade vertical. Grievous again bore down upon him. His strength pushing this old man's knees in to buckle.

The ongree's footfalls sounded out at his right and Grievous glanced there to see him ready to jump. He did so and his blue blade came up ready to slash down across Grievous.

"You've been almost worthy!" Grievous howled. The old man's eyes widened, but it was too late. The second arm on Grievous' right detached and in a flash of motion snatched at a third blade. It popped to life and extended up right.

"Pablo!" He cried as the ongree fell gut first onto the blade. He coughed, and he gagged. His eyes turning to the old man. His body pulsating in shock and death throes. His blade still held at the ready. Until both arms went limp, and the hilt fell without harm to the ground.

"You-" Grievous yanked his sabers down and the old man fell forward against his own defensive stance. Grievous took that second, grief mingled with unexpected change in position, and both of his sabers dove over the Jedi's arms and plowed into the man's breast on either side.

He was much the same. Wheezing gasps of air, but his saber also went silent, and the hilt fell with a metallic clang to the ground. Grievous yanked all three blades away and let them deactivate. The two bodies fell to the ground lifeless and charred, the rot of death not yet upon them.

Grievous looked upon them, but it lasted only a second. A ragged renewed and metal shaking cough finally overcame him from where he had been restraining it by sheer will. His gags echoed through the hangar bay and he once more fell to his right knee and his left hand came up as though the grappled with a throat that did nothing to ease his torment.

The droids approached him in silence to receive orders, and with wincing eyes and servos, rotors, motors and joints whining, scratching against one another and quivering in their broken state Grievous pulled himself around to glare once more upon the Chancellor.

"Here lay your greatest hope for freedom, Chancellor!" He said nothing, and it did not soothe the wrath that boiled in Grievous. Indeed he waited a few more seconds, but the Chancellor still said nothing. His body shook from where he had now fallen.

"Take their corpses and eject them into the atmosphere! Let all who still resist us see what awaits them!" The droids, immediately grappled at the bodies.

"Wait!" They did so turning their heads to Grievous. He pointed that same jagged finger to their corpses.

"Those are mine." The saber hilts of Master Pablo Jill and L'lacielo Sageon indeed now belonged to Grievous.

He had claimed many prizes this day, and paid the cost of them.

Yet he still drew breath. Even as it coughed from his unseen gullet.

L's Note: Yep, another Star Wars heavy chapter. Ya'll are gonna have to wait for some more of tat crossover juicy goodness. It's coming, I swear! However, things need to progress as they need to. We're getting right there to Revenge of the Sith territory. That's where some meat on this crossover burger really gets a going.

But I digress. I've been busy, so I'll review this chapter tomorrow likely and fix the issues when I reread it. But, if you notice grammar issues or something that seems wrong after that then feel free to let me know, and I'll fix it. Feel like trolling or flaming? Oh well don't care. Reviews are appreciated, however!

Until the next peeps!