Star Wars: Arda Unleashed

by Lord Exar Kun

After the Arda Campaign ended in victory for the Republic and their local allies, the galaxy's eyes returned to the wider Clone Wars. However, the Dark Lord Sauron has yet to be vanquished. Now he has come to the wider galaxy free from the binds of Arda, and is ready to be unleashed upon the stars. As the Chosen One's fate, the Republic's and the Jedi Order's remains to be seen.

7. A Delegation and the Battle of Coruscant

Chapter 7

A Delegation and the Battle of Coruscant

Minas Tirith, the City of Kings. At least that's one of the epitaphs the city seemed to have gained. The White City was another, though far more generic. Koll had become more prone to calling it 'the city.' One among countless he has been stationed within during his tenure as a delegate of the Republic. In truth its design and engineering were marvelous. Yet, it was rather pedestrian compared to the grand spires of Coruscant, Cloud City on the obscure world of Bespin, the cities of the Mon Calamari. On he could go, but that did not take from its importance for his work. Honestly he was in dulled musings on the worth of this city simply because he was wracked with nerves.

He had been awoken by an alarm quietly set before his unceremonious loss of consciousness last night, or had it been early morning? Whatever, when he had fallen asleep anyways. His eyes had snapped open with a blur and he picked his head up only to yelp at the stiffness he had felt there afterward. His neck howled in a dull ache that radiated down his back and he cursed himself for his idiocy. Nonetheless, he had popped one or two simple painkillers brought along with him, a swig of yesterday's ale helped it go down and he jumped to work. He threw one from among his usual garments over himself. Finely made silk robes of the Core Worlds as expected. He chose one of a deep blue, much as he was commonly seen in, and he forewent the hat common of his diplomatic corps. He was no sight to behold, he knew that, but he knew it proper to look as best he could for the morning's activities. He took his datapad with him and raced out of his office. Only dully remembering to lock it with both the native simple locks as well as his personal ray shield.

So, thats how he found himself once more on the level above his office's. The courtyard before the Grand Hall was a bit more lively than he had expected as he had climbed one of the stairways up onto the seventh level and gulped in a deep breath of the crisp morning air cascading down the mountain sides. The morning light had only just begun to crest in the east over the ashen mountains beyond. The glint of dull orange turning to a more lively bounding burst of yellow and deeper oranges that lit the skies to illuminate their blue hue upon them all. It was in fact a rather cool day, though Taruk couldn't be sure if that was due to the actual weather or the high altitude he found himself.

Regardless, he realized he was musing off track again. He had been greeted by the sight of many faces and figures set atop the seventh level's stonework. Some he recognized and some he did not. The face of the King was not yet to be seen, at least when he had arrived. It had made him feel somewhat awkward upon first impression of those gathered. He had paused upon climbing the final step, glanced about and felt a shiver of anxiety ripple over him once more. He cleared his throat, grasped at his collar and rolled his shoulders.

"Head into the game, Taruk. Head in the game." He whispered lowly and grasped his datapad tightly. Not too tightly though! The observant sort may see him do so, and guess to his nervousness and anxiety. Such was an aspect of good politicking.

Taruk pushed himself forward into the main courtyard. He glanced and happily greeted one of the guards stood around that same tree. The man in kind tipped his helm but said nothing as Taruk made for the small group. They were distributed across the courtyard, and Taruk felt it important to try and gain a little more info on those he knew and didn't know. The better he knew them, the more information he had on them or about them, the better the Corps back on Coruscant could work them and impose favorable view of the Republic. Glancing about, he found a pair he was more introduced to than the others. He made for them first.

"Merry look! It's the Delegate!"

"Yes Pip, my eyes work well enough still. My ears too." Merry reprimanded Pippin pulling on the ear Pippin had just yelled into. The two uh...hobbits stood beside one another. One of them, Pippin, stood in a blackened shirt baring a white tree, clearly the very same present on this courtyard. A set of stars around it, and chain-mail underneath small enough for the diminutive figure. Across his back lay a fine silk of black that seemed to shimmer in even more luxurious a manner than Taruk's own robes. It made him momentarily jealous, but he returned swiftly to his observations. Noting that the hobbit wore leggings of matching sort, and had small boots upon him along with a sheathed sword...more a knife at his side as he waved Koll over.

"Peregrin Took, isn't it?"

"That's right!" The hobbit replied with a beaming smile, seeming to have taken no offense toward Koll for seeming to need reminding of his person.

"Ah, a welcome sight to see you both have made it back safely and soundly! I do hope my transportation methods were not unwanted or desirable?"

"Nah, wouldn't say that." The other one, Meriadoc or Merry, Koll recalled his name more clearly for some unknown reason, spoke.

"Me and Pip rode one of those things before. Back during the end of the war. They're certainly odd, maybe a bit worrying. What with being up in the air and all of that. Though it does make up for it in speed."

"That it does Merry!" Pippin cut in.

"Made it to the Shire and back in no time at all. Can you imagine? A whole year across Middle-Earth for the gates to Mordor, and a day's ride back to the Shire? I can hardly believe it even now!"

"Don't mind him." Merry began rolling his eyes and pointing Pippin's way.

"Pip's always been the excitable sort. Though I too am still a bit shocked at the speed of your metal err…beasts. We both do greatly appreciate the ride there and back, sir. Especially for our friend's Frodo and Sam. It gave us time to reacquaint with our home, and have our goodbyes. For the time being at least."

"'Excitable?'" Taruk waved the hobbits off. Even as Pippin gave what looked to be a halfhearted stink eye to his companion. Taruk gave a quick once over of this Meriadoc. He wore a very fine red to burgundy colored garb over his chest, and simple brown gloves to his hands. A cloak of green cascaded down this one's shoulders seeming just as rich as his companions. While it was lined in a gold pattern of some native manner and meaning. In fact Merry bore many markings along his garbs. Some of them he recognized as symbolizing the native horses of this world. He also retained a sheathed sw...knife.

"It's no problem at all my young friends!" Admittedly Taruk just assumed their age, returning his attention to the conversation at hand.

"I was more than happy to offer my services! Well, mine and those of the Republic. We're always ready and willing to aid our friends, and allies." Subtle as he felt necessary for beings such as these. Simple folk as they were. Charming, nice fellows even, but certainly simple in mind and manner.

"I was quite pleased to hear from the King that you two would be joining the official delegation to the Republic! I do hope you'll both find the trip enjoyable."

"Can't say I've ever been to a 'Republic.' Though Mr. Anakin and Obi-Wan spoke about it a few times here and there." Merry mused thoughtfully.

"If both of them came from the sky, how far up will we be going? I mean, how high can this Republic place be?" Pippin chimed in.

"Well, it doesn't really work that way. Tell you what," Taruk began with a swift gesture of his hand.

"I subscribe to the notion that seeing is believing! When the transport takes you up and you finally see your world, I think you'll more clearly understand where the Republic is. Though neither of you should be afraid of asking questions of my Corps when you arrive on the capitol of Coruscant. They have answered many such questions regarding the nature of the galaxy to those such as yourselves."

"You mean hobbits?"

"Pippin..." Merry shook his head, having seemed to grasped Koll's meaning.

"What?"

"Nothing. We'll do that for sure, Mr. Koll sir. After all, Strider wants us to be as observant as we can."

"Aye he does! Couldn't have picked a better sort than us, naturally Merry." Merry only shook his head as a smirk crossed his face. Taruk couldn't help but chuckle as well.

"Well I've troubled the two of you enough. Forgive me, but I should see the others among your number off before the transport arrives." Both hobbits bowed courteously.

"Oh," Koll stopped midway upon turning to leave.

"Have either of you seen the King yet? If you don't ind my asking?"

"Not since we awoke." Pippin offered easily.

"He and Faramir were discussing matters. So, he sent us and everyone else out here to await your and his arrival." Merry expounded.

"Ah, very good. My thanks, my friends." Taruk again bowed and turned away from them. Noting a few personality quirks for these two hobbits upon his datapad. He also made a mental note for later. What could pull the King away on a morning such as this? Questions for later, of course.

Paying little mind to where he had made for as he turned from the hobbits, Taruk found himself approaching two figures. One of them a man and the other a woman. His mind flashed back over names and details of significance, and he found the name of the man. Legolas, a prince among the near-human species known as elves here upon Arda. He stood tall, broad even, but slender and graceful even as he barely moved. From what information Taruk had managed to gather about these elves they were 'immortal.' He doubted that, but only because he had yet to see such a thing as immortality throughout the galaxy, at least among sentient beings. Still, he would not state his disbelief aloud.

The Prince was not to be part of this expedition into the galaxy. Though the 'Woodland Realm' as the King had noted was a place Taruk knew of. A generic statement and term for a Kingdom of these elves in the northeast. So, the woman he talked to had to be the one being sent. As such he plastered his kindly political smile to his face and neared.

"...alámenë." As Taruk neared he realized they had been conversing in one of the elvish tongues of this world. Again, he knew little of these languages and dialects or how to speak them, but he found the sound of what he heard very eloquent. Airy and unimposing on the ear. Unlike say, huttese.

Taruk noted the woman as he approached the pair. Her hair was, unlike the prince's a prominent red. Pulled back as braids bound across her head allowed for the majority of her mane to cascade down her back. Two dangling bundles fell gracefully before her pointed ears which allowed Taruk to note her eyes. A light color, seeming green from afar, but a shimmering nature was also there, so he could not tell their hue truly. Likely the sunlight now bearing down atop them. The green clothing she wore, he couldn't quite describe. A sort of robe or green vest that was pulled close to her by a waist buckle of some manner. It fell into a sort of skirt or waist wrap that split into several flaps seeming tassel like by design down across her legs and down her hips and the back of her legs. White leggings were barely noticeable beyond these, and bore matching brown boots and gauntlets bearing a dull golden swirling pattern to them.

"Forgive my intrusion, I beg of you. I am Taruk Koll. Representative of the Galactic Republic." Taruk greeted bowing deeply. The two elves placed their hands to their chests and swept them out with a slightest of dips to their own heads. Hmm, that seemed a more appropriate greeting for these people. Taruk mentally noted that for future use.

"I've heard of you, my Lord Koll."

"Oh, just Delegate Koll, or even Koll works! I needn't be addressed so formally, I am but a humble servant of the Republic, Prince." The elf lord smiled.

"Then you may address me simply as Legolas."

"Your father would be abhorred." The woman added with a smirk her own.

"A fair tiding then, that he is not present among us." The two elves shared a look of knowing mirth between them. Taruk knew this Legolas held high regard with Elessar. His impression by way of this woman may also be of great use.

"Ah, but do forgive me once again, I know not who you are, my Lady?" He looked to her, it was mostly the truth. He only remembered the name 'Tauriel' by way of the King.

"I am Tauriel." Kindly enough and with airy a voice as before, even if in basic, she replied simply.

"Once Captain of my father's guard."

"He would've offered the position again had this venture not come up, I believe." Tauriel interjected.

"Would you have taken him up on it?"

"I don't know. Maybe, but instead I was sent here. Then to go even further beyond these borders. I still do not know what makes you or your father believe I am the best choice. Were you not company to these strangers of the stars?"

"Alas, I would go if I had not already promised myself to healing Ithilien. The shadow of Mordor still looms there even in the fading of the Dark Lord." Taruk felt somewhat lost, but he remained watchful, and listened intently.

"Even still, you trust me to play politics? It is...not my strong suit, Legolas." She quite honestly reminded the Prince with a breathy hint of what seemed to be anxiety.

"If I did not I would not have recommended you to Aragorn." Legolas placed a comforting hand upon her shoulder.

"I trust your view of things. As they are perceived or as they are draped. I seem to recall your vision being clearer than mine once."

"I did end up dragging you into the middle of a war."

"That you did. Whatever the reason it was the right thing to do. Such is the same reason I and Aragorn have faith in your view of things." Ah, so she wasn't involved politically. She may not understand some nuances, and may not ask too many questions. Then again it seemed she had involved herself in some manner before that aformentioned conflict of some sort. Though if she fell into it not necessarily wittingly then she can by intention alone make rash decisions. Taruk made note of this as well.

"Come now, my Lady!" He interjected at last pulling the attention of the elves back onto him.

"All who wish to visit the Republic are certainly welcome! The goal of which is for your delegation to come to consensus on whether or not your world, this wondrous planet should join with us. If we prove worthy then richness of culture, and trade shall bloom. An exchange of ideas, cultures and peoples can occur that advances technology, medicine, access to education among the masses! However," Taruk put on his best humble face and waved his arms out almost as a shrug.

"If you or those you travel with deem our Republic unworthy then that also lay within your right."

"I have not left and already I am confused." Tauriel noted with creased brow.

"When you leave things will begin to make more sense. That's the advice I'd give you. The same as I gave to the young hobbits there, my Lady." Taruk gestured his thumb over his shoulder toward Merry and Pippin.

"Will the Jedi Knights be available to speak with?" The Prince asked.

"Why of course! If you mean Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi, I cannot be sure. However, the capitol is the home of the Jedi Temple."

"Very good." Legolas nodded.

"Seek them out, Tauriel. If you can. They may help inform your decision." Not exactly what Taruk would have advised. The Jedi could at times be troublesome and overly opinionated. Even if supposedly politically uninvolved.

"A worthy idea!" Taruk, nonetheless, agreed. Tauriel loosed a low sigh and nodded.

"Alright. It is too late an hour to abandon this task in any case."

"Untrue, but…perhaps it would be difficult to explain to ada." Legolas beamed causing another bout of mirth between the two.

Taruk pulled his datapad back out and quickly pulled this woman's name up. Noting her own quirks and political inexperience. A warning as well, stating her intention on speaking with the Jedi. Perhaps best to make that seem as politically inexpedient upon her arrival. Though he left that to his colleag-

"Legolas me lad!" Taruk jumped and turned noting the approach of the dwarf Gimli. Again, one he knew by reputation.

"I see you have time to see this pointy-eared lass off but not your dear friend!"

"You have quite the view from where you stand, my friend." Taruk wasn't sure if that was meant to be a short joke. Especially as the dwarf gave him a dirty look. Only to watch it quickly fade and turn to a bout of hearty laughter. It was damn near contagious in its cackling glee.

"I shall grant ya' that one laddie! Though you'd do well to say goodbye to your friend before he departs."

"It was on my way, Gimli I assure you."

"Aye, sure it was." Gimli paused eyeing both Taruk who bowed politely, and then Tauriel whose gaze was fixed on him. Her eyes searching him as though seeking to recall something.

"Hmm, I'd say you look like the one whose behind this whole expedition." Taruk chuckled.

"No no, not at all! I am pleased it is happening and did make inquiries to its time and manner. However, I do believe Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi secured this delegation for the Republic." Gimli eyed Taruk before grumbling.

"Aye, if ya' say so laddie. I'm looking to see what this 'Republic' has to offer. I should warn you-" Gimli began pointing the handle end of his axe, one Taruk only then fully took note of, toward him.

"We dwarves are known for our keen eyes, ears and wits! No funny business, and no underhanded moves."

"I wouldn't imagine to make any underhanded moves, my Lord." Taruk assured placing hand to chest.

"This venture is for the delegation to observe, and inform the King. Hopefully for better livelihoods for all parties involved. That is all."

"Aye, so ya' say! Though I've known my fair share of sweet talkin' noble-types. The lot of em' have themselves in mind. Till' I see it for meself I'll keep an eye on the sweet-talkers we're sure to be mobbed with!" Taruk chuckled as did Legolas, but he gained the impression this dwarf was being serious. Even if Taruk felt this Gimli held very little understanding of political nuance. A ghastly and boorish little man indeed. Frankly, by first impression he was unimpressed.

"Ah, but where are me manners!" Gimli began again sounding more lively and kindly pushing by Taruk for Tauriel. As he did so Taruk picked his datapad up and noted a few more things. Namely that this Gimli was to be watched, but was of little political concern. As he gave the back of this dwarf the faintest glare he could.

"My greetings lass! Pardon my askin' but whom may you be?"

"This is Tauriel. I've mentioned her to you before, Gimli."

"Aye, but ya' needn't speak for the lass!" Gimli laughed and Tauriel shook her head.

"Indeed, my name is Tauriel." She repeated the greeting motion that Taruk had received before.

"I've heard of you, Gimli son of Glóin. Legolas speaks very highly of you."

"Ah! Indeed he has?" Legolas shook his head.

"Has the wee princeling told you about the many times I slayed many more an orc than he?"

"I don't believe so..." Tauriel teasingly elongated her words while casting Legolas a questioning glance.

"Come now Gimli, there's no need to dwell on old contests. Though it would be more honest to say we came to a draw at Helms Deep."

"Forty-three to forty-two!" Gimli warned Legolas all as Taruk watched this little exchange.

"Alas, you may be right."

"I am right!" Gimli corrected him.

"Though it was that I brought down one of the mûmakil."

"Indeed?" Tauriel seemed genuinely unaware of...whatever such a statement meant.

"Oh why yes! Though it was one beast, therefore only counting for one point."

"Did it now? I don't recall such a rule, my friend." Gimli grumbled. Though Legolas merely cast the dwarf a knowing smirk.

"Forgive me, my Lord Gimli, but your father is in fact Glóin?"

"Aye lass! Indeed he is. A fine dwarf you should find!" Gimli beamed proudly.

"Legolas, many years ago when we came upon the company of Thorin Oakenshield was Glóin not also present?"

"Aye he was!" Gimli answered for Legolas. The elf Prince nodded, but Taruk noted a curious stare cross Legolas' face.

"Ah, then I am not mistaken. I seem to recall your questioning Glóin within the spider nest."

"I mean...well yes I had, however I..."

"Yes, our memories are quite long. Even if some details become faded with the passing of the Ages. Though I do recall you taking a small locket box from Glóin which contained a picture of young Gimli here. Hadn't you made a remark upon that?"

"I...perhaps. It has been some years." Legolas, for the first time seeming flustered meekly replied. To which Gimli cast him narrowed a glare.

"Aye? Certainly not long enough for a princeling like you to forget. What had you said, hmm?"

"Nothing of note Gimli I assure you." Tauriel bore a smirk to her face, and Taruk felt this apt time to leave them to their banter. Though as he silently bid them farewell he caught a faint look in the woman's eyes. As a diplomat he had always sought to better read people. To watch them and see how they reacted to situations and statements. It helped him and any good politician to get things done, make moves and secure deals. So, it intrigued him as to why he saw some distant look in her eyes, those eyes that had since dimmed. Some memory was clearly affecting her and it did not seem pleasant. Interesting, but alas, not his concern or of use. So he turned and made for the final figure he found upon the courtyard.

Realizing such Taruk perceived he was missing three of the delegations number. He did hope the King's unspoken business did not concern them. A sad waste of time this would all have been if it did. Nonetheless, he set such musings aside and approached the tall figure garbed in white robes, resting himself in a lean against a tall white...walking stick? Staff of some sort anyways. A 'wizard' he heard him called. Now Koll was no fool. The Jedi were proof that powers unknown to him did exist in the universe. Though he didn't quite know what 'wizard' meant to these simple people. He sure did seem the image of a folktale figure. Long pure white hair fallen as a well maintained beard, equally whitened hair fell down his back, and he was lined in creases and wrinkles. Gandalf, Taruk knew his name to be. The man had to be of some importance seeing as he himself placed the crown atop Elessar's head during the coronation. This one Taruk felt certainly required some caution.

"Gandalf, isn't it?" The old man opened his eyes and observed Taruk with a clinically piercing glance. Taruk stopped where he had been walking and was immediately struck by the look, simple as it outwardly appeared.

"Taruk Koll, representative of this Republic. Yes, I am indeed Gandalf. Gandalf the White some call me, Mithrandir to others, and Stormcrow among others still."

"I see... To which one do you prefer?" Taruk managed to ask though he felt incessantly flustered upon this man's observant watch of him.

"You may call me, Gandalf." The 'wizard' seemed to cast him a friendly enough smile, but there did seem to be an undertone to him and his pleasantries. Taruk knew this feeling, but had never felt it so strongly before. This man was aware, wise perhaps, but certainly aware and reading him. Like a damn holo-book. This one was the troublesome sort. He needed to make the appropriate notation about this one as soon as possible.

"You seem troubled." It was more a statement than question.

"Ah, no I assure you, uh Gandalf. I did not sleep all too well. Passed out in my chair it would seem. Oh, and of course nerves! The anxiety for today's events! I'm sure you can appreciate such." Taruk managed to gain more of a hold of himself. His statement implying a sort of kindred nature with this man, this Gandalf.

"Your mind is quite narrowly set upon this undertaking. What have you to gain from such a thing?" Gandalf asked, though there was a lingering essence of knowing laced within.

"Oh, well it is but my job, sir." Taruk again placed his hand over heart.

"I am a civil servant of the Republic. I have traveled to many systems in my esteemed career. Why, before coming to your world I was tasked with meeting the self styled Warlord of a recently discovered planet, like yours. It fell on me to assess their manner and reliability. They were the ones to broach joining into the Republic, you see. Though the Republic's morals and ethic clashed with that of the warlord it falls on the Republic to begin the process of integration."

"And why is that?" Again, the old man asked with an air of knowing. What was this? A test?!

"Why, through integration do we begin to turn those with views we find reprehensible to our way of thinking. It is a nasty business trying to deal with dictators, self styled kings and tyrants, but through diplomacy rather than war can peace be had." Gandalf remained silent for a moment. Again his steely eyes searching Koll.

"Your words remind me of something an old friend of mine had once said to me not so long ago."

"Really?"

"Hmm." Gandalf hummed.

"As the Power grows-" Gandalf suddenly began. His eyes distant and thoughtful.

"Its proved friends will also grow; and the Wise, such as you and I, may with patience come at last to direct its courses, to control it. We can bide our time, we can keep our thoughts in our hearts, deploring maybe evils done by the way, but approving the high and ultimate purpose..."

"I am not sure I follow?"

"Saruman the White. My predecessor and one time my friend. He spoke those words to me among many others concerning the Enemy, Sauron." Gandalf looked to Taruk.

"One cannot watch such evils prevail and pass their cruelty upon the world unmoved by these acts and claim in doing so there may be found good. To turn those who would use their cruelty, and their malice toward your own goals is folly. You have joined in their game, and you have allowed their evils to go unanswered."

"I...I think that is a rather simplistic view of things. If you'd pardon my saying so." Gandalf made no show of insult taken, however.

"Perhaps, as you say, we play into the game of those who are 'evil' when we allow them to continue, but evil is...what is evil? It is a point of view is it not?"

"Some cruelties have no excuse of renown or worth. Some violence only seeks to impose upon the receivers of such even greater pains. Those who crave power often find themselves drawn deeper into a pit perhaps even they did not know existed until they have fallen too low therein to recede out of. Though even they deserve a chance at redemption."

"If that is the case, can we not work with those traditionally seen as 'evil' and seek to...rehabilitate them? To ease them out of their darker...inclinations? To give them an avenue and a greater chance for peace, for freedoms? Along with those who have suffered at the ahands of tyrants as well." Gandalf paused again, but only for a moment.

"Yes. That is indeed a course worthy of taking. However," Gandalf again gave Taruk a pointed look. One that seemed to pierce and cut straight through his being and left him feeling nervous. A bit shaken even.

"We have debated a different matter. Those who commit evils can be redeemed should chance be given and hand taken. Though to look upon the face of evil, and seek not to turn it away from those cruelties, but make a pact with it for expedient allies? That is not seeking redemption. That is seeking gain. 'Knowledge, Rule, and Order.' These are the things Saruman desired to use Sauron toward. In these things there is no redemption. Merely...hunger."

"I...I see your point." Taruk had to dully and poorly acquiesce even if he did not fully agree with such a sentiment. Politics was not the realm of black and white. Well, he didn't believe so anyways, and neither did many a politician across the galaxy and throughout the course of history.

"Though I...cannot necessarily come to agree. I think there are more nuances to how people; especially so vast a people as you'll soon see across the galaxy, interact with one another. To paint things so strictly, and so starkly I think undermines the task of politicians everywhere."

"Perhaps it may be. Though to mask ones own wants, needs and desires in the stated good of others is itself an act of treachery. To ally with those who use others, who bend them and twist them into their pawns and tools is another matter. To admit that you seek to gain power of them would be admitting to your own wants, and your own ill will. To mask even to yourself your intent when dealing with those of such sort; when your goal is power, or wealth of another kind, only seeks to hide from yourself the truth of whom you are." Taruk again was made thoughtful, but in an uncomfortable manner. This Gandalf was dangerous. A hardliner of stark view where such basic notions of 'good' and 'evil' were concerned. He spoke as a wise old man, but Taruk feared he may have one among this delegation who had already come to a conclusion about the Republic. It sent an ache twisting in his gut to imagine such. He was so close to sealing some manner of deal! He was sure of it.

"Well," Taruk began searching for the right words.

"I think when you have seen the Republic, and seen how things are managed you may change your view."

"That remains to be seen. Even the wisest can always learn new things." That sounded hopeful.

"If wisdom is to be found, of course." Well...mostly hopeful at least.

"Nonetheless, it was an honor to meet you personally, sir." Taruk bowed.

"Indeed, Delegate Koll." Gandalf dipped his head. Taruk turned and by the sheer luck of...he wanted to say the Force today, the doorway leading into the Grand Hall opened revealing several figures.

Koll moved away from Gandalf and squinted to see who he could make out. The sunlight struck the group and it required their moving forward for him, and some of the others gathered upon the courtyard to see them more clearly. One was the King clearly. He was as pedestrian in look and clothing as the night before. Beside him walked for a time his Steward, or his Regent, Faramir. The man bore a brown vest and lighter undershirt with dark leggings. He seemed lordly in his own manner, but he did not pass much further beyond the doorway. Seeming to not involve himself as the rest of the group carried on without him. Odd, but Taruk figured he had other matters to attend to for the King.

Upon the other side of the King strode his queen. The quite beautiful Lady Arwen. One of the elves of this world. Her dark hair flowed in unnaturally graceful waves down her back. Her dress a darkened central vest woven along a deep red dress that fell as fine silk down her body and past her elbows where they opened up and were half-tassel like. The Queen was fairer skin than damn near anyone else Taruk had ever seen. Perhaps even more fair in tone than the other elves about. Renowned among many was her beauty, and their declarations of it proved to be quite true. She carried now a look of contentment as her light eyes glanced about, falling to him momentarily, he took the political route and bowed. She cast him a beaming, welcoming and beautiful smile. It honestly put him off some, and he felt an unwelcome blush pass over him as he rolled his shoulders of the feeling quickly thereafter.

Taruk turned away lest he embarrass himself and saw two beings. The two of them he immediately knew to be the twins he had been expecting to join this little expedition. They were very fanciful indeed. The two men...elves, he corrected himself upon memory, were quite tall. Both had long raven black hair that fell gracefully and straight down their backs with stray long flowing locks also set ahead of their pointed ears. It was possibly a standard cultural look among the elves then.

Regardless, their faces were fair, and indeed he saw much of their sister in them. He knew the Lord Elrond was an elf, and hence father in law to the King. So the similarity was expected, but their eyes were more prominent and alight in a grayish blue hue that were equally piercing. Though they seemed, even from a distance to carry more vibrancy within them. They bore strikingly similar gear which was bound to stir confusion among those having to deal with them.

Their cloth was ornate, as he had previously noted. A silver sort of cloth snaked as an X across their chests, while underneath lay blackened fine silk that extended down to their waists. Robes fell down the back of those legs matching their undershirts, and as finely tailored. Their shoulders were enclosed by straps, almost pauldron like, and they matched the silver color of the straps. Though as the party neared Taruk began to think it a cuirass of some ornate design. Everything that was silver bore dark etchings in the look of vines, while their dark underclothing bore similar swirling patterns of silver make. The hair that fell just ahead of their ears was also tied together by small silver clasps just above the ends of the many long strands. Both of them showed their nobility upon their foreheads. Simple silver circlets weaved as vines or branches interlaced with one another as glinting metal jewelry lay upon their brows. The both of them bore a cloak, dark as their cloth, down their backs, more cape like than cowl. Both could also be seen to carry a bow, its arrow quiver, and sheathed swords to their hips. One each.

Among this group there was another. To the side but trailing the King was a woman. He believed it to be so at least. She hung her head and just escaped his complete view. Her adornment was very white, like...well like sunlight bouncing off of a clear stream. It seemed a simple dress that lay snugly to her slender frame, while an equally silver-white cloak, and truly a cloak with a cowl, lay upon her head. He barely caught glimpse of radiant golden hair dangling low from beneath the cowl down this woman's chest.

It would take a moment before he caught sight of her face. She turned up, and eyes, deep and penetrating, uncomfortably so just as with the wizard, bore into him. They burst with light hue, blue perhaps? Her hair was indeed much the same as the other elves, her pointed ears prominent, and flesh as fair as the others she walked among save the King. She, like the Lady Arwen, was very beautiful. Lithe, and though pale seeming to be full of life and youth but outwardly tempered with a wisdom borne of age. Though maybe he was projecting some of the feelings he received when looking upon this woman. She too bore a small circle, near imperceptible upon her brow. It confirmed to Taruk whom this was as well. The highest ranking, though not the lead, unfortunately, of this delegation. The queen from the north. Taruk met the penetrating gaze this woman cast on him, and forced a political smile to his face. Bowing for the ten-thousandth time this morning.

As Taruk had been observing the smaller group, it hadn't dawned on him that the King had paused to speak with the hobbits. The two of them bursting with energy and excitement upon seeing the gathering of elves. Hmm, Taruk glanced about himself and took note that indeed the majority of those traveling into the Republic were in fact elves. One from the Woodland Realm, this Queen Galadriel, and the twin sons of Elrond, the brothers of Queen Arwen. Four of eight. They held half of the voting power.

His face, now scrunched into a frown, looked about himself. He could not be sure of Gandalf. The old man seemed a hardliner. Gimli also showed himself to be boorish and self assured. Perhaps a week or two of pandering and drinking could sway his outlook? The hobbits he held no doubt in his Corps ability to sway. Simple folk whom, when shown the many goods and niceties of the Republic could be caught up in displays of kindness and see the bigger picture even if simplified down for them. Three he thought. He turned to Tauriel. She was clearly politically witless. That could be played to, and like the hobbits she may well be swept up in the goods offered by the Republic if shown. Over the problems it held within, but all governments had weaknesses of course! That meant he only needed one more vote. It fell on him and his Corps to pluck another from among these elves and make them see things correctly.

"Delegate Koll." He jumped slightly. Taruk glanced back up toward his left only then realizing he had at some point allowed himself to lose himself in thought. The Queen stood before him. Her voice breathy, airy and calming as ever. Her eyes greeted him with a kindly nature, and her beauty was ever present and staggering. He was sure to present himself as flustered and held one hand to his heart which was in truth pumping a little harder than before.

"Forgive me, your Majesty! I was lost in thought! Nerves of the morning I'm afraid." Taruk laughed.

"Tis' quite alright." She assured.

"Before they leave to visit your people I should like to introduce my brothers." She guided him with a sweep of her arm, the robes that hung there flowing in the morning air graceful as she was.

"Ah, gladly, your Grace." He followed, and as they walked he managed to sneak a glance to his chrono. The ship would be there soon enough, and he was both relived, and more nervous than before.

"My Lord-Delegate, I introduce my kin. Elladan and Elrohir." The Queen introduced pointing between them. Though Taruk felt it would do little to help him tell them apart.

"It is an honor, my lords! I've heard much of your father, and of your fair sister, the Queen as well." Taruk was sure to compliment.

"Ah, but of course you have!" The first one, Elladan replied boisterously.

"Our sister is far more remarkable than I or my brother. Is that not so, dear brother?"

"Aye, very true. Indeed." Elrohir replied, more conservatively, but showing a smirk upon his features. Force, they looked like clones!

"The two of you exaggerate." The Queen laughed soothingly as was her temperament.

"After all, it is you two father chose to visit these unknown lands and peoples."

"As if that would be up for much debate! What dear sister? Would he send you, the Queen of so vast a Kingdom in his stead?!" Elladan asked, dripping in sarcasm. Good humored as it may be.

"I don't believe her husband would much agree to that."

"Nay, I think not either, dear brother. Estel we be none to pleased." Elladan replied to his brother. 'Estel?' Hmm, another name for the King. Interesting.

"Certainly you two are the jesters I've always known you to be. Especially you Elladan."

"Me?" The elf lord placed shocked, and feigned, a hand to chest while Elrohir chuckled slapping his brothers back playfully.

"She has you there, brother." Arwen shook her head. The dark strands atop it shimmering in the rising light.

"Perhaps ada would have sent Glorfindel in thy stead? Tis' all I meant."

"Ah, now she insults us!" Elladan went on. Clearly he was the leader of the twin pack. Koll would be sure to note as such in his report. Perhaps he was the one best chosen to be swayed? Maybe, though the quieter siblings often times proved the more jealous in their reservations. Hmm, interesting a thought indeed.

"Elladan." Elrohir called and nudged his brother's attention back onto Taruk.

"Ah, apologies, sir. I have not seen my sister in a few weeks, and my manners leave me too quickly without her guidance."

"Oh, it is quite alright! I've had my fair share of meetings and greetings this hour." Taruk laughed the elf Lord off.

"I am sure. It is quite the assorted bunch Estel has chosen for the company."

"Curiously there are no men among us."

"Hmm?" Elladan hummed before taking a sweep of their party.

"So it is. Curious indeed, brother." Koll also took that in. He made no show of it, but suddenly he did indeed realize there were no humans among them. Near-humans sure, but no full blooded humans. His brow creased. Why was that?

"It makes little difference, I'm sure." Taruk began again.

"All from this world are welcome among the Republic! The more vast and plentiful in manner, being and person the better."

"A welcome assurance, Lord-Delegate." Elrohir nodded.

"Oh, the lords have arrives." The Queen whispered pushing by her brothers with grace and ease upon so light a footing as hers. The three left in her wake turned and indeed caught sight of a small gathering of nobles from across Gondor. Taruk immediately recognized Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth. Whom he had met the day before. Seeking to gain his interest in helping push the King to make diplomatic relations more formal. The Prince had played the politician game well. Unfortunately well.

"Curious they need be among this parting."

"Customs are as they are, brother." Elrohir replied to his kinsman. Taruk, however, set his eyes upon another among them. He found him, and knew it was him by reputation. A lordly man in full Gondorian regalia glowering upon view of the King and his Queen despite her charm and beauty as she began mingling among the lords and their parties. His features dark even with fair skin. Hair a deeply darkened blonde and lines puncturing his flesh across brow and mouth. He seemed nearly as tall as the King and bore a look of hardship to him. Yet, even without the Force, Taruk could see this man felt disdain among the gathered crowd. It had to be him. Prince Amathir of Pelargir.

"He carries an ill look to him." Taruk glanced to Elrohir. Perhaps the more observant of the two?

"Indeed. His shoulders are stiff, and legs heavy. It is not weariness that fills him with ire."

"He bears a look of wrathful hurt about him." Elladan and Elrohir remarked respectively. Taruk chose to say nothing. He still required that man. Even if things went well he would do best to set up a meeting and keep open Arsuna's 'options.'

"If I am not mistaken," Taruk cut into their observation.

"The woman your party exited the hall with was Lady-"

"Galadriel. Our grandmother, in westron."

"Ah yes, I've heard much of her." Though he hadn't been entirely sure about the familial relation. Things were seeming more focused around the King's extended family than initially believed.

"I should like to meet with-" Taruk was silenced once more as the familiar sound of engines entered the air.

"Hmm, it would appear I am too late." Taruk turned as did the twins, and just about everybody else. Entering into view from the south and bending in toward the courtyard came a rather large vehicle. It would just managed to anchor atop the city, but Taruk could see those further out, such as Legolas, Tauriel and Gimli pull back toward the white tree. Taruk alone slowly approached it even as it loomed above them sending a steady but subdued stream of air across the stones.

"Oh, this one looks different than the others!" Taruk glanced left to Pippin who marveled at the lumbering metal 'beast.'

"What you and your friends traveled within was a simple transport for soldiers, master Took. This here is my own yacht! The Personal Luxury Yacht 3000! Though her name is the Actuary." He beamed at his ship as it came to a land, and the hiss of its decompressing air loosed, before the steps opened up and gently placed themselves as a descending jaw against the marble. Out from which came clanking two clone troopers. Chosen to act as part of the minimal security detail for the delegation.

"Is everything in order?" Taruk asked one of the men loud enough for most to hear.

"Yes sir! All provisions are had, and security set for the trip, sir. Our engineering boys want you to know the hyperdrive retrofit you requested was easy enough and has been implemented."

"Wondrous!" That was sure to get these people to Coruscant in...three, four days max! He turned and held both arms out.

"It is a glorious day and fortuitous a morning that no ill weather has befallen us! Pardon me, your Highness, but I do wish to welcome the eight chosen among you to act as the official delegation for your world, for Arda!" All began to close in and gather more tightly. Many among the nobility had already taken part in at least one ride upon a gunship, if Taruk were not mistaken. Though their faces betrayed the shock they felt at so large a ship. They didn't even know how small this was compared to many others.

"This yacht will tend to your needs on the trip to the capitol world of Coruscant. Three days is my best estimate to your travel. No need for legs or horses. You may grow bored upon your venture, but I have carefully selected some amenities to keep you gathered folk entertained and looked after."

"What about food?!" Once more, Pippin called out. No sarcasm lay in his voice, nor his wide and curious eyes. He elicited a laugh from all among the crowd, and Taruk could only chuckle.

"Why, yes master Took, food has been provided and stocked quite liberally! What manner of host should I prove myself to allow guests of the Republic to go hungry?!" He laughed. After all, you never know what these hobbits may take into account when giving their view of the Republic.

"These men, will act as your security detail. Quiet folk they are, and quiet they will remain." He passed the men a seemingly kindly glance, but truthfully it was an order. One the troopers he looked to nodded in response and understanding. He didn't need a bunch of trigger-happy lazer-brained clones ruining his or the Republic's chance at diplomacy.

"When the gathered among the Arda Delegation are ready, these men will show you to your individual rooms."

"Such a thing has rooms within it?"

"Why of course!" Taruk answered Gimli.

"Would be quite the waste of space if it did not, master dwarf. There is in fact a common room, a kitchen and dining area as well. All to use as you will, and please don't mind the mess. My droids will tend to those. All that matters to me, to the Republic, is your comfort and your safety." Taruk placed hand to chest and tipped his head.

"Now, whenever you're ready," He swept toward the stairs again and moved aside.

"I bid onto each of you farewell, and safe journey. As I pray that our peoples should come to understand and prosper about one another. Your Highness." Taruk bowed to Elessar.

"Thank you, Delegate Koll." Elessar then came to stand ahead of him and the ship's ramp.

"To those who have willingly joined into this venture, you have my thanks once more." The King this time placed his hand to his own chest.

"Into your hands I place my trust. The trust of your kinsmen and lords or ladies assuredly goes with you as well. Yet, I do not bind any among you to fulfill this task. Should it be your will to return to your realms, to your homes then that is your right as free-folk." How very noble of the King. Taruk cocked his brow, but thought no more of the matter. Indeed he remained silent as the group began moving in around the King. Seeming to pass to him their final even if temporary goodbyes.

The King bore a wide smile as he spoke with the hobbits. He spoke some words of merriment with the dwarf, and then turned to the twins. The three of them entering into an elvish tongue and lowly snickers more becoming of young men passed between them. The King passed some words with Tauriel, the elf maiden bowing upon meeting, and the King waving such a show away as he continued to speak elvish between himself, Tauriel and Legolas. The 'wizard' neared and Taruk had to strain his hearing, and even then he only caught the old man say something along the lines of…

"...watch them. As you keep watch."

"Thank you, my friend." The King and the wizard clamped one of their hands upon the other's shoulder before Gandalf turned away. Taruk's brow creased and he felt a sudden curiosity nip at the back of his head. A worrisome sensation entered his mind, but it may well have just been anxiety. What does the King need to watch exactly? Did it have to do with whatever business the Steward was dealing with? Or, something else? Hmm, the day was too much a mix of joy and agitation.

Though he did catch a little more of the King's conversation with the one member of the party he hadn't the chance to speak with. The Lady Galadriel. His eyes squinted as he fought harder to listen in, shuffling his feat subtly nearer. Only just slightly of course.

"Namárië." The King spoke in that damnable elvish.

"Farewell, Elessar. May the Valar watch of you, and Undómiel." She wished with beaming a smile. Her voice more powerful than Taruk had anticipated. Though he did appreciate her use of a more discernible tongue.

"May they bless you, my Lady." The King humble as ever.

"Though," Elessar bore a smirk.

"Hadn't you told me we would not meet again?" The Queen laughed, as airy as her...granddaughter's.

"Even the wisest cannot see all ends, Elessar." The King smiled and they bid a final farewell.

She was in fact the first to pass him by, and as she did so she glanced toward him. Her eyes piercing and he met it. He tilted his head but said nothing. She joined him in watchful silence between one another. Before she climbed the stairway that awaited the group into so strange a transport.

"Be well Gimli, Tauriel!" Legolas called after the two, both of whom bid their farewells. The Queen passing another and final goodbye between her brothers. All very touching Taruk was certain, but he chose to move away from the ship.

"Do relay this communique to my office at the Diplomatic Corps as well as the Survey Corps."

"Yes sir." The clone nodded grasping the disk Koll had snatched from his datapad.

It was now out of his hands, and indeed, for the time being Taruk chose to wash his hands free of these eight. Until such a time came for him to tend to them again. He did watch as they all boarded. Each one gawking up the ramp, around the ramp, and back at the gathered lords along with the King and Queen. Some of their faces showing etched reservations, and some a bit more excited for the coming adventure.

The Actuary soon lifted off, and he did hope nothing happened to his yacht. An added luxury he felt would, or should at least have some kind of payoff. The ship would turn, arms and hands were waved and slowly the courtyard would disperse. Taruk turned and intended on leaving for his office for a quick bite to eat at last. Though he was brought to a sudden stop. Another leap of his heart wracked his chest and his brow furrowed questioningly.

The lords had dispersed and the King was in conversation with his Queen as they meandered toward the royal living quarters beyond the hall. Yet, Prince Amathir's eyes were upturned to the sky where the Actuary had been. Koll said nothing. He didn't say anything when the Prince turned back to him. Didn't say anything when the Prince cast a glance toward the retreating King and Queen. Taruk continued to not say anything when the Prince cast his dour eyes upon the retreating monarchs. He still said nothing when Amathir cast glance to Taruk again. The two of them had said nothing, but Taruk couldn't help but feel as though an offer was being made. After all, Taruk had been meeting with many among the nobility.

As Amathir turned away it was clear he was awaiting his own meeting. It was also clear to Taruk, left alone for a moment and feeling slightly awkward, that this Amathir was indeed worth pursuing. As much as he hated the idea of it.

"Lady Sipillona will be pleased." He muttered as he evacuated the courtyard himself.

---

Those gathered, even those who had traveled within these steel beast's bellies could hardly believe what was occurring. All of them were now gathered, having shuffled into a sort of large meeting room, though it seemed more a living quarters. Perhaps what the delegate had called a 'common room.' The ceiling, the roof was lined in window panes and outside could be seen the blue sky and the clouds through which they all could see themselves moving by. Along the sides of the room, in a circular fashion were further windows leading out all of which were fit between metal binds keeping them in place. The room was lit by many…torches. Their light, bright, illuminating even blinding if looked at for too long. These torches, Tauriel was the first to approach.

She neared her face to one that lay nestled against the metal wall. Her eyes winced at the light that cascaded over her flesh. She felt as though she was glowing from it, but as she placed her right hand upon what at first seemed glass, she felt no heat. More, she realized it was not glass. It was an encasing, but she knew not of what material or manner.

"What strange torches." She whispered placing her left hand to the wall. Though she yanked it away upon the coldness that stung her there. Elves were not prone to the cold chills of winter's touch, but she had not expected this...metal to be as cold as it was.

"Oh! This one is a lot nicer than the other!" Pippin cried upon entering. The little hobbit began moving around. His hands touching the walls, the counters, the tables and the window panes.

"By far." Merry agreed as he more reservedly spun about the room and took in the sights and the constant low hum he heard. Much more tolerable than the warbling undulation of the other smaller one he and Pip had ridden a couple times now.

"It's quite homey, don't you think Merry?" Pippin asked smilingly.

"Yeah! That's the word for it. 'Homey!'" Merry agreed just as smiley. He noted the clouds moving faster and faster away.

"Now...where do you think the keep the food?"

"Pippin..." Merry shook his head. Just before he heard his own stomach grumble in want.

Gandalf found himself staring at the clouds for a moment, before he glanced right and found the Lady Galadriel. Already having taken a seat at a somewhat ornate seeming if still metal, table. As the clouds began to pass them by the wizard took a seat opposite her.

"Pardon my sitting here, my Lady?"

"Not at all, Mithrandir." She smiled casting her cowl back some though not entirely from atop her head.

"I should know better than to question my Lady's reasons for coming with us on this venture. Yet, I still feel I must tell you again, even now as we leave, that the hour is not too late for you to return."

"The answer shall be the same, Mithrandir. I will go among these people. Those such as the Knights Skywalker and Kenobi whom walked among my woods. I need to see, and to feel within my heart if the vision I beheld in some manner came of them."

"How will you know?" Gandalf asked thoughtfully.

"I may not. I may not leave with any answers. Yet, it is a gnawing thing at the back of my mind. I have seen a vision of blood and death. A world torn to ash and ruin, and the promise of power given the form of a man. If Sauron is indeed fallen into despair and ruin then another power must be risen. If not upon Middle-Earth or even within the West we must now look to the stars themselves." Gandalf paused thoughtfully. His mind recalling the delegate from the stars.

"That man troubles your mind as well." Gandalf nodded. Needing no introduction or explanation of the Lady's mental perceptions. Though he knew her to afford him as much privacy as she could.

"He appears a man of the nobility. Haughty even in his humility. He cloaks himself and those he represents in equivalencies. His goals, I do not know, but I feel I cannot turn away from the vastness of the beyond because of misgivings."

"Have you been given inclination to travel from beyond the wish of Elessar?"

"Those in the West have seen, and they wish to see further."

"Then we go in similar purpose. To see." Galadriel ended on.

"My Lady!" Both turned as the sky grew to a strange shimmer and creeping darkness.

"My Lord Gimli." She smiled his way and the dwarf sputtered.

"Ever is it a sight to behold the Lady of the Golden Wood!"

"Tis' always a pleasure to see you as well, my Lord Gimli." The dwarf continued to sputter about and Galadriel beamed her amusement. Though her eyes were swiftly turned way from the dwarf.

"Now would you look at that..." Elladan intoned from where he and his brother had stood near the center of the room. Elrohir and his brother cast their eyes upwards, and then to the windows at their sides. The world, it began to fade from sight, and those among the eight moved nearer toward the glass. Save one among them, as Gandalf remained seated and looked out the nearest window pane and loosed a subtle sigh.

"I uh...Merry what do you suppose that is?"

"I don't know Pip...although..."

"What?" Pippin asked as Merry pointed out his window pane. Pippin glanced and he could see the 'ship' they rode within had 'turned.' At least he thought so. His eyes bounced about trying to find what Merry pointed him towards. Before it suddenly hit him and he gasped the slightest of breaths.

"It looks like…that is Middle-Earth!" Pippin declared as others looked to where the hobbits had. As if seeing a map full of greens, and far lands of deserts hues and the sweeping oceans around.

"I've never seen the far southern continent. Neither in person nor from afar." Elladan added as the lot of them looked to the far off 'dark land,' the continent that struck upwards towards the mass of Middle-Earth like a sickle of earth

"Now that's a sight that'll be hard to explain." Gimli muttered, having found it within him to turn away from Galadriel.

"Is that 'the world?'"

"Aye, I believe so, laddie." Gimli answered Merry.

The world glowed a beautiful blue and sung in its majesty and beauty. They hardly had time to look upon the great arrowhead of metal that loomed in the distance.

Though Tauriel found her eyes drawn beyond the 'world.' Her heart racing as she was sure the others were experiencing as well. She gazed upon a vastness of twinkling light. The bright glow of the sun beyond hardly a thing within her perception.

"Starlight." She smiled. Before they were all consumed by a blue swirl of the unknown. Toward even further unknowns.

---

A heavy if relieved sigh loosed from him as Taruk eased himself with more a flop into his chair. He threw his datapad onto his desk and leaned back, being sure to stretch his still sore neck. A yawn was stifled and he quickly thereafter rummaged about his drawer for his itinerary. Perhaps he could sneak a quick nap in? Hmm, he so rarely took one, but today seemed like the day to do so if he could.

"Ah." He chirped pulling the very piece of flimsy in question from his top drawer. He still prefered to write some things down. An oddity in this day and age of the galaxy and proper civilization. He skimmed the lines and saw very little happening today. Indeed all of his meetings were to occur via holo and thus with those off world. Such a shame the relay was broken! A smile graced his lips just as his comlink began buzzing.

"Sithspit..." He cursed, but little trace of venom could be found therein. The day was too good to be too upset.

"This is Koll." He began forwardly.

"Delegate Koll, this is Captain Maesters. I have an urgent and important update, sir!" Hmm, the Captain sounded a bit winded.

"Well, go on with it Captain." Taruk prompted sounding even to himself uncaring.

"The Separatist relay has been partially fixed. Our transmitters on wide band are down, but its transceiver has been put into a functional state."

"And?"

"And..." The Captain seemed hesitant. Finally causing Koll to furrow his brow and sit up properly in his seat. Something was indeed wrong.

"What is it Captain?"

"We received a data transmission from Coruscant, sir. It's blasting on all emergency and non-emergency channels of the Republic. It looks like it's been at it for a standard day based on the loop record. The capitol sir...the Separatists are attacking it!" Koll remained silent. He felt rather than instructed his eyes to narrow and bounce across the simple stone roof of his office.

"Sir?" The Captain called.

"Wha...what do you mean 'attacking?' What does that mean? I...I don't..."

"Sir, the Separatists under direct command of General Grievous have launched a strike on the capitol! Reports are flooding in by the minute, but it looks like the largest attack fleet the Separatists have ever assembled dropped on top of the Home Fleet and decimated it!"

"Captain Maesters it is in poor taste to...to..." Taruk paused and leaned into both elbows now pressed firmly into his table. His right hand held comm to mouth and his left was now beginning to pluck nervously at his hair.

"For the love of the Force, Captain! I just sent a VIP level political delegation to the capitol!"

"I know, sir."

"What the kriff?! What is...how?!"

"We don't know sir. The wave chatter is nearly impossible to sift through. Coruscant has been hailing for constant reinforcements for hours, and pings are slamming along our transceiver from the Core to the Outer-Rim." Maesters was breathless, and withdrawn as he spoke. Likely looking over reports, as Koll heard the sound of men calling to each other in the background. Relaying messages, and orders. The tact and propriety of a Republic ship's bridge steeply beginning to decline.

"Kriff!" Koll slammed his left hand flatly along the table, and was sure to remotely activate his door's ray shield. He needn't anyone to bother him right now. His gut began twisting and sweat began beading.

"What about reinforcements?"

"A log here indicates that they're on their way, sir. However, it only came after...after General Grievous abducted the Chancellor."

"You've got to be absolutely kriffing with me, Maesters!" Koll jumped up to a stand as he slammed his hand once more to the table. Before it flew to his head. His heart was thumping in his throat and he swore he was about to have a stroke.

"What do you mean?! How can he? How could he?!"

"I don't know sir. Uh...it looks here like a Jedi team was killed trying to extract him."

"Lot of good that Order of 'defenders' are!" Taruk spat and tried steadying his breathing. His eyes widened as it hit him.

The other morning. Arsuna's call cut off with that horrendous wail of static that piercing white noise. She hadn't hung up on him, kriff the Separatist relay probably hadn't even dropped that time. The Separatists had just dropped out of hyperspace and began jamming. That had to be it!

"General Windu has assumed direct command of defense and counter-operations on the capitol. Apologies it is...it's still streaming in." Clearly. He was reading reports as it was.

"They've, kriff..." The Captain trailed off.

"What?"

"They've uh...looks like they've activated all system wide gravity wells. They're fighting off a barrage of landing craft and ground forces, but Grievous seems to want the Chancellor alive. Rescue operations are to be conducted. I assume, of course."

"Of course." Taruk agreed as he yanked his collar from his neck. It was pooling with sweat as his throat became incessantly dry. Taruk, still holding his comm snapped open another drawer and pulled back onto the table his bottle of ale.

"What about your ship, Captain? Have you been recalled?"

"Uh, kriff." Taruk barely made out the un-officer like, curse.

"One moment, sir." Indeed, as a moment came and went Taruk opened up his bottle and liberally poured the liquid into a hastily grabbed cup. To the top he had it filled. Shaking hands brought it to lips and a thousand-million things ran across his mind as he washed the anxiety down with alcohol.

"All Rim forces are ordered to return to the capitol 'if at all possible.' Our system is designated one of priority. Therefore, no sir. Sadly not."

Sadly? What was sad about that? Taruk didn't know but he poured another glass for himself.

"Alright, can we send a message to the transport?"

"Negative, sir. As I said the transceiver is up but the transmitter is still down."

"If the damn relay wasn't broken before why is it broken now?!"

"Because sir, we broke it trying to fix it." Once more silence, heavy and looming passed between them. Taruk sighed loudly and eased back down into his chair. All memory of the damnable Clone War flashing to his mind. So far off from this backwater save for its barest of experience with it. He had almost forgotten it.

"Sir?"

"I...I appreciate your informing me, Captain. I must uh...I must consider some of my options. I assume there's much you need commit to on your end as well?"

"Aye, sir."

"Good. Good…" Taruk trailed off his eyes and mind going distant.

"Do please keep me updated."

"I shall, sir."

"Especially in the event our transmitter returns."

"Yes, sir."

"Good. My...thanks, Captain." Taruk turned his comlink off and ended the call.

Lowering it onto the table along with his glass he noticed both hands shaking profusely. His gut felt as though someone had taken a metal mace and slammed it there. His legs were shaking, tapping the ground beneath him and he began tearing off his outer robe. It was hot! Too damnable hot! Or, was he just sweating?

"Force, what am I doing?" Taruk shakily asked the empty air lowering his head into his hands which lay atop the table. He dug into his hair once more.

"The kriff have I just done?" His voice barely a whisper.

"They're going to be slaughtered if that battle doesn't end." Taruk paused.

"And what if it ends poorly?" He asked the nothingness.

It did not reply.

---

The atmosphere and the orbit surrounding Coruscant was nothing but the purest of chaos made manifest. Upon the second day of fighting the Republic fleet had dropped out of hyperspace. A vast swarm of mammoth warships. Venators, acclamators, vast numbers of smaller support ship. Along came uncounted and near uncountable numbers of fighters and bombers that were joined into the fray. The vast new vessel of the Republic, an arrowhead of metallic looming presence came face to face against many Separatist warships, and crushed through many thereafter. A certain cyborg General demanding hour upon hour for reports of this new ship's placement and demanding thereafter its annihilation.

The hours dragged on throughout the second day, the forward Separatist flotilla streamed more and more ground forces to the planet below. General Grievous indicating to his forces that all ground units in this mission were expendable. Thousands upon thousands multiplying into the hundreds of thousands were pitched in battle across the globe. The defensive screen of the shredded and torn Home Fleet could barely hold their positions. The stream of reinforcements from Kuat soon adding to their number, but the droid armada made every inch gained by engines a hard fought one. As the greatest light show in the last five thousand years was a sight shone.

Green turbolaser fire battered into the hulls of venator underbellies added to be munificents bombarding them from above. The crimson blood beams crashing down tearing through shields and ejecting metal and fire into the vacuum. Until they ruptured and loosed a howl only audible to those sucked into the emptiness and eviscerated by the cold heat of space.

Blue batteries loosed into the side of a passing recusant as the two exchanged broadside bombardments with one another. Both tearing through shields as best they could, and the venator engaged was soon joined by three acclamators below. Upwards cascade bombardment pelted the droid ship's belly and began burning as its orbit began decaying tearing itself into four parts. Its engines falling as a great heaping mass towards the Works in Coruscant. Where the nearly magma hot, metal would tear through a gas extraction plant and loosed a screaming cloud of gas and fire that shook for hundreds of miles in all directions.

By the end of the second day Kuat's reinforcements were fully engaged, and the clone hordes of lesser stock from Centax II began swelling from their lonesome moon. The revelation of this vast cloning facility and network led to a further horde of dive bombing vulture droids. Hundreds of them skittering, chirping and wailing at one another in their binary. Loosing endless streams from their forward batteries, firing rockets with wild abandon. Before their metal forms slammed into and pierced outer walls, striping and striking through lower levels. The vacuum sucking screaming men, clawing at metal and sheared glass, tearing flesh, all in a vain hope of survival. It would not save them. Though the bulk of their brothers made it off. These soldiers manned the new ships, entered fighter cockpits and bomber holds.

The Jedi Order remained engaged. The entire military apparatus falling into the hands of Mace Windu. He and Master Yoda remained battling through the streets of the government sector's outer rims. Before they pushed out into the residential regions where the droids were rampantly firing on basic infrastructure. Caring little for slaughter of civilians, but not caring if and when they got in the way. The General above ordering the droids to cause as much damage without purpose, rhyme or reason as the second day dragged on. Though the Temple and Senate building remained beyond reach, acting as safe havens for those who could reach them. Though the Jedi relegated refugees of their own world to the grand halls and entrance ways. Where the senate became bloated and swollen with the cries of the injured. Screams of mothers and their dead children and vengeance hungry from across all denominations begging to join into the fray.

Master Tiin in orbit maintained command there as per Windu's orders. His division evacuating the providence-class they had stolen the day before onto another. Hopping as a disease of parasites from Separatist ship to Separatist ship. Each one battering their companion and sister vessels. The topside guns boring through the core of a lucrehluk that split its arms in two. One of which descended into the atmosphere before colliding into another ship and unleashing a stupendous explosion. Shattering a sabaoth-class destroyer into a fireball. Chunks of which ejected out with such violence that they pelted through the command deck of a nearby munificent sending it into a forward diving decay down into the atmosphere. To be battered by defensive AA guns of the Republic. All as the second day slowly faded still steeped in horror and blood into the third.

The third day saw the fighting continue relentlessly. The two armadas remained in a pitched and ever increasingly haphazard fight. The Republic fleet took up a wide screen across Coruscant. Blocking further ground reinforcements from committing easy penetrations. Though some still managed to break the blockade assisted by bold movements from Confederate warships and their swarms of vultures and hyenas.

More reinforcements began to stream in on the side of the Republic. Fleets from the Inner-Rim or the Colonies regions of the galaxy. The Separatists became further constrained between the Republic forces. Grievous ordered concentrated movements on the planetary defense units. The pressure mounted there grew in intensity as the day dragged on. The droid forces pummeled the remnants of the Home Fleet and began battering the new arrivals. This forced Master Tiin by command of Master Windu to shift forces away from engagements bottling the Separatists in.

However, movements made by the droid warships proved the true intention of the attacks. At a sacrifice of dozens of capitol class and frigates, the CIS moved swarms of fighters and bombers against the localized gravity well generators in orbit. A multitude lay in orbit, and several were cast in fiery explosions before Republic forces had to once more realign. By then the Republic found themselves as widely spread as the Separatists. The orbit of the Republic capitol was truly turned into a chaotic tug-of-war between ships.

Wolfpacks of roaming vessels on either side of the battle intermingled with one another firing at random. The ships wailing as they ruptured and exploded. Beams of bright light dancing downward. SPHA cannons broke droid ships in half, and the swarms of tri-fighters bounded with hyenas and broke acclamator and venator as they came upon them. The chaos that surrounded and enveloped Coruscant seemed unending. Tens of thousands of clones and Republic citizens lay dead with more dying by the minute. Droids in the excesses of several hundred thousand were destroyed, and their organic commanders, spread thin, were falling by their droves. The numbers were only climbing and reaching an unprecedented climb rate.

All of this occurring as a small Republic Task Force jumped into the system. Among them the venator-class Justifiable reverted from hyperspace. Aboard it came two Jedi. They quickly departed the warship along with many fighters and bombers, who were joined into the fray. Their mission parameters unchanged. The rescue of the Supreme Chancellor.

Operational lead is, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Assisted by Jedi General Anakin Skywalker.

---

The two interceptors 'descended' through the great vacuum of space. A trembling sensation rippling in a constant sputter. Through the Force it was echoed as constant pings and endless pangs of death and pain that was howled throughout the planet's orbit. While the distance beyond them rippled in this way in the spasms of explosions and seemingly ceaseless combat.

Before their forward viewports was one of hundreds, maybe even thousands, of venator-class warships. It lumbered in the great relentlessness of space at the outskirts of combat. A new arrival as they had been but moments prior. Its batteries, its turbolasers and missile launchers were twisting in preparation to join in the fray. As two dots, two lone actis-class interceptors warbled in the vacuum and trailed across the long deck of the vessel.

They pulled along their left and as they crested over the edge of the ship, they spun in coordinated wonder, like a dance of metal as both ships dipped down and away from the venator. Before them coming into view the truest vision of chaos seen in sometime. Even compared to the battles seen before then, this naval engagement truly put all others to shame in its sheer breadth of weapons brought to bare.

Their engines pulsated as renewed speed was loosed from them. Droid tri-fighters buzzed along their right as ARC fighters chased after loosening screaming bolts that blistered the vacuum. Beneath them venators furiously collided with a horde of munificents gathered in a relatively low orbit pocket. The exchange of fire flashing, glinting, and glaring light even against the constant looming burn of Coruscant's star.

Both interceptors twisted back into an upward and forward formation looming high above an uncaring lucrehulk pushing away from the Republic pocket forming in. An ironic vision of tri-fighters giving chase to ARCs passed them by once more on the right as the two opposing wings zipped in a downward and piercing thrust ahead of the two.

Both occupants of their ships gazed around them watching as the thinnest layers of atmosphere Coruscant had to offer were peppered, littered, and blotted with constant smoke trails left in the wake of flak guns and burst turbolaser bolts finding no quarry. Those that did in the distance loosing gushing torrents of fire and metal.

The interceptors pulled up out of the line of fire of incoming Separatist warships and spun close by another forward facing venator. Another of the beastly metal warships hung even higher along the right still, and the sound of howling turbolaser batteries drowned all within the vicinity in their cries. They leveled out as a swarm of indiscernible fighters passed high above, some giving chase to others, and a munificent came into view just below them. Its crimson cannons barraging another venator on its left barely missing the interceptors. Ahead of them an artificial alleyway had begun forming as a straight line of opposing ships. Each one crashing, firing, spitting, committing and every other adjective imaginable upon their nearest foe. The composition of the battle had fallen into a sort of controlled chaos it seemed.

They kept going, looming under a recusant firing its main battery under its bow toward some unknown friendly to their rear. They spun underneath it keeping formation utilizing the Force and their equally commendable piloting skills to dodge the endless onslaught of fire. They both noticed a rarity ahead of them. It looked like a Techno-Union hardcell-class ship. Along its right from their view a venator was loosing a diagonal barrage. The ship ruptured just as they neared and both interceptors bound forward through the flames that enveloped them.

Force, the intensity here...it awoke in both of them a stark reminder to the realities of this war. Their war. Yet, neither one could think on it. Ahead of them a pocket of Separatist ships loomed again. Two munificents on their right fought off a wolfpack of venators. One on the right and the other left with a behemoth lucrehulk ahead of all of them. The sound of a stabbing blast echoed across space. A bluish-green beam ejected from the underside of the venator on their left and it crippled one of the munificents. It ejected its plums of fire and smoke, and the traces of its vaporized interior cascaded out. Reddish tinged molten metal blasted out and flew at incredible speeds up into the very same venator that brought the ship down. Another irony of combat as pitched as this. This, as the two interceptors managed to find a wide berth, finally, and leveled themselves out.

Artoo beeped, swiveling his bulbous head about as he hung about the yellow shaded actis.

"Lock onto him Artoo." Anakin ordered checking along his left, noting the ejecting pieces of the munificent falling to the planet. While his sensors indeed zeroed in on a distant providence-class. A sensation traveling up his spine. A certain ghostly white general coming to mind.

"Master, General Grievous' ship is directly ahead." He began and squinted, sighing as he saw them.

"The one crawling with vulture droids." Anakin finished.

"Ah I see it. Oh this is going to be easy!" He heard Obi-Wan, with his muted sarcasm, reply back with. All as they could both distantly make out the defensive swarm of droids step their pincer like legs along the hull of the Phantom Fist. It didn't take them long to begin racing off their command vessel like a nest of upset hornets. All of them making for the Jedi. Anakin felt himself steady. He gathered a breath of the pure air gifted to him from the filtration system.

"Oddball do you copy?"

"Copy Red Leader." The wing commander replied to Obi-Wan.

"Mark my position, form your squad up behind me." Obi-Wan easily and plainly commanded, having already taken effective command of the forces in the entire sector.

"We're on your tail, General Kenobi." Came the as easy and expected reply of the clone pilot. A looming fighter squadron consisting of enough fighters to fill at least two wings zeroed in and came roaring up behind both Anakin and Obi-Wan. Their S-foils having already snapped out. Anakin and his Master followed their example and they moved into a battle-ready position.

Anakin had to admit, despite the situation he felt a thrill of excitement come over him. The droids barreled toward them, and the two were made to charge. It reminded him of several moments from Arda. Seeing the horsemen barrel toward an opposing force. This charge simply had a counterbalance. Still, he felt that old exhilaration pulse and he rolled his shoulders.

"This is where the fun begins!" Force, he was even smiling. He couldn't help himself. Nor did he earnestly try.

"Let them pass between us." His Master ordered, killjoy that he was. It was the smarter move...Anakin begrudgingly and silently admitted. He tilted his ETA out of the charge line and so did his Master. An exchange of blistering greens and burning reds exploded out. Once more the vacuum was consumed by fire and puffs of flak smoke. The two Jedi strafed with excellent precision. The fires of exploding vultures shook their ships as the clone manned fighters did their part, and they did it well. Even as three of their own exploded in fiery messes of momentary pain and inevitable death.

Above them a passing tri-fighter wing broke away and joined the fray. They gave chase to one of the passing ARC-170s and their more precise shots broke a chunk of its wing out, another blasted open the cockpit. The droid carried on for another pass, and the clone's body, battered and singed was tossed into the void without ceremony. This as the tri-fighters completed their loop and were chasing another set of Republic fighters. Their laser bolts battering around them.

"They're all over me!" Anakin heard, his eyes narrowing.

"Get them off my-" His comm cut out and grumbled in Anakin's ears. He twisted around and saw the fighter beyond him along the left. A sudden bout of anger came over him toward the unfeeling machines, and his nostrils flared. The clones didn't deserve what was happening. A sudden realization and empathy snapping back into him.

"I'm gonna go help them out."

"No!" Obi-Wan began.

"They're doing their job so we can do ours." Sound, reasonable even. Simple and plain speech and dripping with sense. Anakin pursed his lips and his brow coiled in agitation. It didn't feel right, but the logic was sound.

Well, kriff logic!

"I'll be a second!"

"Anakin!"

Anakin pulled his actis into a twist around and Artoo wailed as he pulled on the throttle. The interceptor tore into a spin, and loomed off to his right in a controlled twirl outward. His thumbs slammed on the triggers and green bolts erupted out and with expert precision they slammed into and threw one tri-fighter back in a cascade of fire that tore one of its friends apart and sent the other two sputtering off.

Anakin pulled his throttle in and his ship leveled allowing him to twist it around back in the direction of Grievous' ship. His Master now having a prominent lead.

"A thousand and one thanks, General!"

"Sure thing! Now pull in with your squadron and hold your screen!"

"Aye, sir." The clone replied as he was joined by two more ARC fighters

Anakin pushed forward and his engines erupted with a howl.

"You are going to be the death of me!" Obi-Wan bemoaned.

"I said a second, and it's been only one!"

"An...blast...exaggeration!" His Master chirped back.

"Cresting the munificent."

"I see em.'" Anakin replied as two vultures flanked by a tri came up ahead of them over one of their frigates. The droid popped off its four missile, and its blue trails flew in their wake toward the Jedi.

"Missiles!"

"Blast!"

"Pull...wait." Anakin evaluated. His distance left him in a strong position.

"Master, dip now!" Without needing to be told twice Obi-Wan's interceptor twisted in a spin and then plummeted. Anakin snapped his thumbs down again and green laser bolts pierced the open vacuum and slammed into one, two three, and the fourth missile with criminally precise shots. Allowing the Jedi knight to bare another one of his grins.

"Clear Master. Looks like buzz droid dispensers."

"How can you tell?" Obi-Wan asked, his interceptor pulling up and back alongside Anakin.

"The splattered droid chassis."

"However can you see them?"

"My eyes aren't as worn as yours, Master."

"Attacking me at a time like this?!"

"Always, Master." Anakin laughed as their ships flew side by side. The attacking vultures and tri-fighters were behind them now locked in a dogfight with the ARCs. Ahead of them the main defensive batteries defending the ray shields of the hangar bay pummeled distant ships beyond.

"Alright, the Generals' command ship is dead ahead."

"Have you noticed the shields are still up?!" Anakin chuckled lightly at the heightened tone of his master's voice.

"Sorry, Master." Again he whirled his interceptor over and around Obi-Wan's. An expert splattering of fire erupted and the green barrage cascaded into the shield generators nearby the defensive cannons. Fire and metal, as was common in orbit, ejected and the hangar showed itself decompressing. Its oxygen and ships, or droids sucked out into the void.

"Keep level Arfour…Oh I have a bad feeling about this." Anakin again chuckled even as his eyes narrowed and muscles tightened. The hangar's emergency doors began sliding closed, and as the behemoth slabs of metal closed in on the edge of the door, the two actis ships screamed into the hangar bay.

Near instantly, Obi-Wan's careened as elegantly as one could hope to, into the bay floor. The metal of the ship grinding against the metal beneath it. His Master leapt from the ship, saber in hand and blistering blue. Anakin joined him soon after allowing his to glide to a halt. He snapped off his straps and popped the hatch as Artoo was ejected and began rolling over towards an equally freed Arfour.

"There they are. Get them!" A gaggle of droids had arrived from a nearby doorway toward the interior of the ship. Anakin activated his saber and flew into a defensive dance and each crimson bolt that flew his way was expertly deflected, Artoo rolling along his left. One by one the droids were dropped with their own bolts, as the Knight loomed in nearer toward them.

Obi-Wan cut one down after another with as much ease as was to be expected of his Master and a relatively small collection of mindless B1's. Anakin moved in and joined his master, slicing apart one droid and another. The Force acting as his guide as he and Obi-Wan moved their backs together in a traditional guarded stance used against masses of blaster bolts.

"Artoo, Arfour, locate the Chancellor!" Obi-Wan ordered twirling his saber and deflecting another bolt with ease. The blue and white astromech chirped as he and Arfour moved towards one of many placed wall ports. Arfour trailed after just as both Jedi deflected the final wave of bolts. Around them were piled broken bits of droid everywhere. Smoldering and one of them falling to its knees whining. As was their oddly programmed manner at times. It made Anakin really wonder what had happened to the programming between the OOM and B1 models. Nonetheless, he and Obi-Wan, slightly breathless, moved towards the two little astromechs. Arfour standing by and swiveling its crimson head towards them as Artoo accessed the ship's systems.

Within mere seconds Artoo displayed a holographic picture of Grievous ship. The two of them pulled in around him as the signal trace traveled up towards the providence's spire.

"The Chancellor's signal is coming from right there. The observation platform at the top of that spire." Obi-Wan noted with a pointed hand.

"You sense that don't you?" Obi-Wan glanced his way. Anakin twisted about himself, eyes narrowed.

"I sense Count Dooku." It was an unmistakable...stink. A dark rot in the Force common of any Dark Jedi or Sith types. Anakin had, had his fair share of sensing the same sensation from that putrid witch on Arda. This one was more...well naturally potent.

"Yes, and I sense a trap."

"Next move?" Anakin asked turning. Only to see his master baring a grin along his features.

"Spring the trap." Anakin shared his master's grin even if he felt a burgeoning and sudden onset of anticipation nip at the back of his mind. Flashes of memory towards everything Dooku had done. Not only to his arm, which in that moment began to elicit a phantom itch, forcing him to clench its metallic fingers tightly. That 'man' had caused the deaths of billions. By his words and by his actions. This war was predicated by him, and the other one. The mysterious Sith Lord Dooku had himself mentioned. How many Jedi had he killed or caused the death of? It was insulting to be thought of as a Jedi and have Dooku's name or likeness associated with him.

Force, he hadn't felt this angry in a while. He felt his blood pressure thrum, and he released what he could into the Force.

Anakin, snapped back and realized he had barely moved. He head the whirring of an astromech and zoomed around himself.

"Artoo go back." No sense in getting his little friend into danger alongside himself and Obi-Wan.

"I need you to stay with the ship."

"Here," Obi-Wan tossed Artoo one of his comlinks.

"Take this and wait for orders. You too Arfour. Don't get into trouble, either of you." Arfour chirped happily enough as Artoo caught the comlink with ease. The two astromechs pulled in and began babbling in their binary. That brought a new smile to Anakin as he followed after Obi-Wan into the first hallway. The first of many.

Force, his legs hurt already.

---

Legs pounded along the walkway of the hall they inhabited in this one moment amongst countless many others. Eyes were already narrowed and breaths shortened in deepened wrath that ebbed beneath the surface. Two among his guard followed in his wake and his arms were notably coiled in towards his chest which remained hunched over. A common stance of his, a common issue of his stance with his body, this body he was given to sustain life. Made only worse in the last few days by the worsening of his lungs. A constant itch, and pang troubled them as it had since his body of flesh had been torn all but apart by bombs. Made worse, made near unbearable, and his rage only simmered that much hotter.

The days above this wretched world had grown tiresome. This battle was endless and constant, and it would be one worth waging should capture and conquest be the point of it. Instead it was survival and retreat.

RETREAT!

A word he loathed. One that assumed his desperation and weakness. Alas, it was the will of Dooku and Lord Sidious that the Chancellor be taken alive. That he be brought aboard his ship and sat in the chamber looming above them all. Why Dooku was here, he still hadn't fully figured out, but it truly didn't matter. His mind had been set on completing this damnable task. Of course, he relished good warfare. He did so hate wasting his time. The Republic had proved to be quite apt in doing this of late.

The doorway slide open and Grievous came to a halt. His eyes took in the chaos beyond the viewport, and he growled as a feral beast. He slammed his talons forward again and his guard followed him in, silent and diligent as programmed. A cough wracked him again, and he loosed it to relieve his burning lungs. It came back and he lurched forward, his fists bounding in and nearly slamming against his chest as he thrashed his head and felt that damnable constant itch subside. Just as he rounded the Captain's chair and found Captain Lushros Dofine. A finer specimen among his species. Calmer, more capable and able in the ways of combat. Far better than his weakling of a substitute that had died back upon that backwater.

"What's the situation, Captain?"

"Two Jedi have landed in the main hangar bay. We're tracking them." Grievous grumbled, his head turned aside and Dooku's conscientiousness, his foresight came to mind. That damnable perception expected of those who used the Force.

"Just as Count Dooku predicted!" More an annoyed acquiescence than anything else. The Captain need no further word or command. A cough wracked him again and Grievous turned. A laugh gracing him as he imagined for a moment these Jedi coming to him by mistake though a fleeting possibility he was sure. Alas, he would let the droids, and if need be, Dooku tend to these fools.

Grievous climbed the few steps to the forward observation deck of the bridge. He cast diamond eyes upon the vastness of this battle. The utter encompassing wrath of it. He imagined it as an extension of his own rage. A sort of loosening of his own warrior spirit. He had wrought it, and he was the one to lead it. It filled him with pride. He clasped his hands behind his back, pushing aside his cloak as another bout of coughing escaped him.

The General noticed a distant recusant-class and four munificents battering a venator with a broadside barrage on both sides of the Republic warship. The ship was alight in fires already, and he watched as its bridge exploded marvelously. A hail of bombs fell atop its smoldering deck as at least three separate wings of hyena-class bombers swept down and delivered its death knell. A splinter cracked along aft as portside eviscerated itself with what seemed to be a fuel rupture. One of the nearby munificents was rocked off its trajectory by the explosion and the other Confederate ships came under immediate attack by reinforcing acclamators.

"Where is that new Republic warship, Captain?" Grievous asked plainly.

"Scanners indicate it's two battle-sectors over, General."

"Have we damaged it?"

"Yes, sir. Though minimal. Err...forward compartment shows scorch marks from a fire. Likely put out by suppression systems. Several batteries appear to be inoperable." Grievous narrowed his gaze. Mind once more falling to that ship that shadowed the venators he had become accustomed to.

"How many of ours has it destroyed?" The Captain was quiet for a moment. Grievous sensed hesitation and peered over his shoulder. Dofine glanced over one of his arm consoles.

"S...seven, General." Grievous, growling as he ever did, turned back to the viewport. Clearly the Republic had been working on advancing their shields and weapons not just their designs. The Confederacy seemed by that one example to have become lax. When the time came he would impart his displeasure onto the Separatist Council. Especially that toad Gunray. Once the time came.

"General, sir."

"What?"

"Task Force Thirty-Nine requests aid in their suppression of forces moving from Centax-II. The Republic has destroyed four of our forward vessels." Grievous turned right and noted the moon was not too far off. Relatively at least. Though the way was peppered with both Confederate and Republic units. As had become the norm. Still, he was growing bored with this waiting game. Their plans to break the spirit or, more likely, their damnable gravity wells was slow to proceed. If they were going to make him wait then they should suffer.

"Move the ship into position! We'll shore up their efforts!"

"Aye, sir." Dofine began plotting course and the Phantom Fist began to turn. It would take some time to reach the position still. Not as if they were lacking in it. Besides, Grievous knew no ship or Captain of the Republic would be stupid enough to fire on his own. Not while their precious Chancellor remained aboard.

---

Communications had been reestablished relatively soon, and good for him they were. He swore for a moment, or in his darker moments of doubt that he was cursed. A'Sharad grappled his interceptor's triggers and held them firm to his gloved hands awaiting the moment he'd be released into the void. Since leaving Boz Pity he had finally managed some genuine sleep, and had awoken mere hours into it by alarmed and chaotic troopers. All of them telling him of the battle that now engulfed Coruscant.

Of course, he assured them all, and took command. Of course he made preparations to join the battle once they arrived in system. Of course he had been given one acclamator. Of course it was a generation one, and low on every supply and barely battle capable.

Of course.

His troops, those who could not be given fighters, of which they had limited amount of, of course, had been loaded into and waited inside of the few shuttles they had aboard. They had two gunships, because of course they did, and ten shuttles for basic landing and transport. Of course they did. They had a compliment of three fighter wings and no bombers, because of course they didn't. Master Hett had to choose whom to leave behind as a skeleton crew with orders to find the nearest pocket of friendly ships. Because of course he had to pick and choose who was likely to be of use and make it, and who was likely to die.

It was all a thankless task, and kriff him he was still as tired as before. He was, in fact, more creature of instinct driven and guided by the Force, than a man of sound mind.

The alarms blared in the main hangar, and a pulsating light began flashing just beyond his cockpit. His astromech droid, T9-D8, signaled their impending departure of the ship in mere seconds.

"Alright, keep us as we planned Teenine. I don't need this ship bruised on our way up and out of the hangar." The droid chirped its affirmative and assurances. A small, if welcome comfort. A'Sharad nodded to himself and strained to control his breathing as he counted down the seconds. Beyond him the pilots of their ARC-170's and several older fighters mounted up and sealed their hatches as the ship's comms gave final orders.

"Four, three, two, and-" The main ship gave a lurch and immediately something horrendous sounded out as the vessel gave another quaking whine and groan.

"Go!" He ordered more to himself than anything and his actis bounded out of the acclamator as the hangar doors opened releasing its payload of fighters.

They streamed out into the vacuum and A'Sharad gazed into the pandemonium. He jolted his ship right and steered clear of a looming providence-class that was in an instant firing its defensive turbolasers along its belly downward. The bolts scoring, and sheering the ship he had just inhabited. It filled him with a mounting anger, but he fought and released it into the Force. Even as a jet of destruction projected itself from the bottom of the acclamator from a boring hole of laser fire shot directly through the ship. He had to ignore it, he was forced to. He had a duty to complete and other men in need of leadership.

"This is Jedi Master A'Sharad Hett! I've dropped out of hyperspace aboard the Turbulent. I have several wings available. Transport of support units from our ship is underway but..." He glanced back as the Turbulent's engines began ripping themselves apart.

"We've dropped out inside of an enemy pocket. Anyone, please respond!" He was met with an ear battering menagerie of screams, bellowed orders, commands, calls for help, cries for support, and subdued relayed numbers, figures and destinations.

"Master Hett, this is Tiin. You're aware of the situation?" A'Sharad grit his teeth, unable to respond. A swarm of vultures streamed from above them, arching in towards he and his wing and spraying a barrage of bolts his way before banking left or right.

"Pull off, form two detachments and cover our central thrust!"

"Copy Emerald Leader." One of them replied to his call sign just as one of the ARC-170s erupted in fire and spun wildly off into the distance. Chased down by a tri-fighter that seemed to come from the nothingness. The rest of the fighters locked their S-foils into attack position.

"Apologies, Master Tiin. We've jumped right into a gundark nest!"

"No need to tell me, Master." Tiin assured as A'Sharad pulled up and avoided a crazed vulture on the inbound.

"I'm sorry we can't debrief more formally. Master Kenobi and Knight Skywalker have begun their operation to rescue the Chancellor."

"Good." Hett had full faith in both of the Jedi listed. Kenobi was beyond reproach in his skills and tact. While Anakin...despite what A'Sharad knew of his past, he did believe the Chosen One to be capable. He still hoped that Anakin would choose to share with the Order what he had shared with him. The horrors wrought of their shared homeworld. A distant thought and memory, regardless.

"We, however, do have need of your fighters for an escort mission, and it is urgent."

"Escort, Master?"

"Relaying the coordinates now, Master Hett. Your wings are nearest to unexpected VIP cargo. They've also dropped into a bad spot. That sector is crawling with Separatists."

"Copy, Master."

"Good. Bring them in all the way, Hett. We'll discuss further matters from there. Tiin out." Hett nodded to himself. He didn't need anymore details.

"Lock in Teenine." The droid chirped back another affirmative.

"Huh, looks like a shuttle of some kind? Bad timing indeed." Hett loosed another breath and fell into mission mode.

"All wings on me! Form up on left and right. We've got a priority vessel in the midst of it. Destination will be planet-side."

"Copy all, General." The secondary lead replied as Hett bounded off, his fighters in tow. Behind him the lumbering and looming vision of droid warships peppered the acclamator he had arrived in. Those within assuredly dying.

Of course.

---

(Previously)

The stink of this place was a concentrated mixture of fumes he was familiar with, metal, ash, smoking fires. As well as some chemical concoction even the witch's mind gave little insight toward. He glanced upwards, daylight filtering across the eyes he bore, and the warmth of the distant star gracing his face. In his vision the constant fiery mess he needn't concern himself with anymore. Dancing lights dotting the skies, and blistering explosions audibly shaking the foundations of metal.

"This place seems pretty secure. Though, we could run the possibility of undesirables wandering here." The witch mentioned having once more taken the backseat of their shared mind.

"It looks like an old factory. Some of the neighboring buildings look like they were active before the droids arrived."

"Will that be of major concern?"

"Depends. I mean, the Works are known for being desolate of normal foot traffic. Least that's what I heard. Mostly droids work in the factories and plants still active. Their forepersons could be organic though. They come across some Jedi locked up in an abandoned building questions will be asked." She snorted aggressively.

"Unless they're an 'unsavory' type. Should be a fun time I suppose." Sauron gathered her meaning but made no mention upon it. He tilted downward. Noting the decrepit walkway he stood upon which led between two abandoned buildings. They were both block-like, square shaped and hardly resembled the spires common in the districts he had been confined to for some days. Dust inhabited the interior to a torturous degree, and rungs of chains, conveyor belts, shaded windows coated in grime or dust lined the outer rooms.

The interior of which contained hallways seeming untouched in decades. Infested with all manner of bottom dwelling creatures. Some of which he hadn't yet a name for, and neither did the witch. A subject to study later. The rooms were filled with paper documents, seeming uncommon among these 'space-faring' folk, and some datapads were littered about as well. To whatever they had been making here, Sauron knew not, and neither was it of great importance. It served him not, save for as a prison, and testing ground.

"This place shall serve us until better accommodation can be acquired." He noted aloud and turned. The doorway stood agape, having been broken long ago and never fixed. Within, he passed the rooms coated with the miasma of particulates. The Dark Lord peered about the darkness that was foreboding as it was consuming with ease as he carried on.

"Sure. Though I would think if Sidious finds out what you've done he'd be a little...stressed? Yeah, stressed."

"It is of no concern to me."

"No, and not to me either. Though..." She trailed off as he swept around a corner.

"Though what witch?"

"If you want to use him for his resources, and what he can offer to make your life, and therefore mine, easier perhaps you shouldn't upset him? I really could care less. Just throwing that out there."

"Your worries are noted. However, I am aware that my actions would indeed jeopardize this Sith Lord's apparent web of weaved activities." Sauron assured.

"It shall not come to pass that he is made aware."

"What makes you so sure?" Vica asked as Sauron came before a doorway that was halfway hung open. Slanted in diagonal a fashion and showing signs of disturbance about its layers of dust. Created by his own actions.

"Soft and swift as shadows must we be, witch. A task to which I am adept at."

"As you say. I'll take that bet though." It took just a moment for the Dark Lord to gather her meaning, but again he said nothing as he entered the room.

Using the Force through the witch he lazily twisted his hand right to left without turning and the doorway screeched as metal bore against metal. The door closing fully as it had been upon their initial arrival. They were entombed in darkness save for the soft breaths of two bodies. Sauron raised his right hand, as he walked in an arch, and beyond him a small lantern taken from the ship they stole was set. Once alight it was pure in its brightness, painfully so even some might say. Its hum echoing new sounds throughout this room. About which there was little of note. An old desk covered in grime, walls of metal as were the floors, the ceiling, everything.

Ahead of him, as he finished his arching stride sat upon the floor the Jedi woman from before. Her head was slumped over uncomfortably so towards her chest. Beneath her, her legs were stretched outwards, her left curved out some. Her hands were tied behind her back in binds he had made from metal pieces found about this building. Using the witch's power he had twisted it and turned it into crude a chain, but effective he so believed.

The Dark Lord took but a moment to appraise this woman's attire. Strange as it was it was also familiar. Seeming more fabric and of simple design than some of those he had seen since his arrival to this place. A brown breastplate of some manner that swept out over across her breasts and carried over her right shoulder protectively. Her arms were hugged by long gloves that were strapped in multiple rungs past her elbows. While her body was covered by a long tunic that fell past her waist which was pulled in by a strap and led to white sloth that matched her tunic which fell down just slightly across her legs. Simple white leggings were shown and her boots were in the same color, and of the same material as her breastplate and armbands. Topped by her black hair, short as it was, pulled into four noticeable simple braids. She was fair, though not the fairest among the uncounted race of men he had seen. It made him wonder, if even for just a moment, where this one hailed from. Though assuredly he would know it not. As assuredly, however, it mattered little as he bent down and knelt just ahead of her slumbering form.

"So, what are we-"

"Simple beginnings, witch. Silence if you may." Sauron perceived a sigh, but she did as asked. A rarity he was sure, but appreciated as he placed cold hand atop this woman's brow and sent a pulse through himself into her.

"Huh?" She gasped in a breath as her head snapped back and crashed against metal. Immediately she winced. Likely from pain, but perhaps in no small part due to the light crashing to her face. She coughed thereafter as Sauron watched with emotionless a face.

"Wha...where am I?" Her voice, groggy and low asked.

"Tis' a dark room." Was his simple response and he watched her tense. He felt a sensation. Much as he had back upon Middle-Earth when Sidious had sought to probe his mind. Sauron did not so aggressively cast it back, but he did push it aside with ease. She would gain nothing from such tactics.

She forced one eye open and glared at him. The second soon followed but both were squinted slits in the glaring brightness.

"I thought you had been a bad dream. Guess I was wrong." She seemed to try and sound calm and collected. It may have worked were it not for a slight tremor in her voice and shake of her darkened lips.

"You deceive yourself, Knight. I know your fear is manifest." Sauron intoned back.

"Deceive yourself if you must, but I am not so easily fooled." Her glare remained fixed onto him, and Sauron perceived her nature within this Force. Waves of emotion, as best as he had come to discern for himself, ebbed in pulsations from her. They carried the scent of anger, fear, frustration and anxiety about them. He knew from the witch's mind these were emotions prohibited and undesirable among these Jedi Knights. She was trying to control herself, and follow her edicts.

"Such a strange thing. To take emotions, and feelings as commonly felt among all immortal and mortal and to set them aside. To release them into an unknown void. Where then are such thoughts and desires cast?"

"What...what are you talking about?" Sauron made bare his hand.

"You feel now great fear-"

"I am not afraid of you!" She cut him off.

"Let me out of these..." She huffed as she pulled on her makeshift binds that dug into her flesh.

"These cuffs and I'll do wha...what I should have done before!" Sauron exhaled long a breath by way of his nose.

"Truly? I think not." Sauron rose to a stand.

"You hadn't the ability to bring to bare any worthy contest of strength. It is a hopeless imagination, a dream or thought that plagues your mind." He turned away and circled about until he was further away from her. His being eclipsed the light and he was a shadow made manifest in her eyes as he loomed beyond. A form and but a voice now.

"What do you want? Who even are you?!" She demanded as what seemed a cold chill caused her to waver in her gasping demands.

"You will come to know me in time. However, I must satiate my hunger to know. To see and understand just what you are. Your abilities, your faculties. You beings are strange to me. You are...anomalies would be one of your words for it. Gifted with a power beyond the simple 'magics' of mortal men, and of equal measure to that of the eldar."

"What?" Sauron ignored her.

"Your agility and skill is beyond reproach. Even the skills of the mightiest man upon Middle-Earth and Beleriand before are insignificant to the weakest among your rank and file." Sauron again raised his hand in almost coaxing a manner towards her.

"Through a thought you may destroy a man's body, and through your powers you can break their minds. Yet, you contain yourselves in these codes and edicts. You wear them as if they were shields. In a way I applaud you." Sauron continued, dropping his hand. The woman eyeing him with an expression that was twisted in disgust as well as confusion.

"The bedlam bread of your inner desires tempered by adherence to commandments set down in times forgotten of you. Though this is not always so. Some among your rank break and they become consumed in their hunger for more power. This much is made simply bare to me."

"Are you one of those crazy Jenna Zan Arbor types?" The woman asked and Sauron gave a perplexed tilt of his head.

"Before you sift about my head, no I don't know who that is."

"Interesting." Sauron noted aloud.

"What is?" The Jedi asked. Sauron waved the captured woman off, so she responded with a sneer. It still did little to mask her fear.

"In time I will take from you many things. Your blood, your essence, and your very being will in time be swallowed whole into the Void. Yet, until such a time I shall make you a thing by which I break and remold. I shall see what works, and what does not by a whim. This is my one favor I gift to you. Knowledge of what awaits." Her expression softened and her breathing became more labored. Her eyes fought to keep their gaze on him, and Sauron felt this Force echo with futile grasps at release and aid. It would never come of course. He saw to that with his own power.

"What is...what would be the point?" She was trembling now, he saw such. Indeed she had already answered one question. She, like that one before...Skywalker, their fear could nullify their control and outward demeanor. Just as it had every mortal he had come across before. Skywalker had been no outlier, and neither was she. Perhaps one may exist, but not this day. It was no 'Force' that made them fearless, but a lack of proper exertion upon them.

"What are you after? What do you want?!" She demanded. Sauron felt there a tinge of anger spike. As it did he noticed her face flash in the custom signs of anger, wrath borne of fear. It gave her presence in this Force a surge of power. The darker more primal aspects of men seemed to add strength to their being. Such as...what had they called it? Ah yes,'adrenaline.' It did for those without such power as the Force seemed to do for those with access to it.

"Many things you are not privy to." Simple and cold was his response. Unfeeling and unperturbed by her outbursts.

"Now is not the time for such meaningless questions. Now is the time of simplicity." Sauron raised his right hand. His forefinger and middle swept with a simple jut from left to right before him and a horrifying crack echoed out. The woman howled in the instant thereafter before her breaths became harsh and quickened as they were labored.

"Kriff!" She screamed out of pure pain. She slung her head back, and her eyes seemed to have momentarily bulged before she brought herself under control. She glared at Sauron before glancing downward to see her right leg. Unnaturally shaped now and it made her stomach turn. Not only from the pain but by the sight of her leggings jutting ouward just as her flesh assuredly was. A bone having been so cleanly snapped that it made her shake.

"Nice!" The witch laughed.

"Torture will..." The Jedi gasped for breath.

"Get you nothing!"

"Tis' not the torture that matters." Sauron repeated his finger movement and the Jedi again gasped. A groan elicited up from out of her throat as her head flew back painfully once more. Before she looked down again and saw...well...something she couldn't explain.

"H...how?" Her leg was back as it was, and she dared to flex her muscles, her toes, and felt no pain. She surely did remember it though, and her labored breaths remained as a reminder. She turned to this man cast as a shadow, and she felt a tremble once more pass into her. All memories of what Master Drallig had taught fighting desperately to keep her strong as this...thing looked down at her.

"Such healing...I've heard about some Jedi healers without that level of control."

"It is not by the Force alone such is accomplished, witch." She could only laugh in her internal amazement.

"Who are you..." This Jedi, Serra, seemed to be unable to finish asking her question. Her eyes widening as the reality of it all seemed to horrifically sink in.

"You will resist for a time, I portend." Sauron intoned as he remained looming.

"Though your resistance is of little consequence. Your threshold will be what is most important. On this day at the least." Her face remained fixed in horror before slowly but surely it twisted and turned defiant. Eyes wide became glowering. Lips parted fearfully, creased and morphed to show only bared teeth as a caged animal would.

"Kriff yourself!" Sauron loosed a single exhale before once more raising his hand to commit what he imagined would be one of many horrors. To begin this hour and carry on for many thereafter. After which he would find more things in need of doing. More work to commit to, more things to break and to see what was inside. To see how they worked.

More screams echoed out from the room and bounced through the desolate dark hallways. Not to pass beyond the decrepit lonely buildings and the deafness of empty nothingness that surrounded it about the Works of Coruscant.

---

L's Note: As per normal guys there are likely some grammatical errors and flubs/the dreaded run on sentences. Lord Kun ran over it and did what he could but, as usual, I also have to go over it, but will do so perhaps later tonight as I upload this or in the next few days. Due to perpetual tiredness on my end. So, if you note any errors feel free to point them out and I will add them to my changelog. Otherwise please ignore and move on. :)

Alright one note this time:

Huan of Valinor: Lord Kun appreciates your input and reviews as always! However, we would never choose to use grammarly. It has some shady business to it and breahces galore. Just don't want anything he writes or I (L) add to be viwed by some faceless weirdos out there before we even submit any materials. Thanks for the idea though. :)

Keep on with the reviews, they're always inspiring. Till the next!

-L

Edit Note: Edited/Updated 10/7/2019