In the Supreme Chancellor's Senate Office Building chambers, Yoda sat staring across the desk at Palpatine, silhouetted against the long window that overlooked western Coruscant. How many Supreme Chancellors had he sat with in this office and others like it? he asked himself. Half a hundred now? But why with this one did discussion so often skirt the edge of confrontation, especially when the topic turned to the Force? As ineffectual a leader as he was, Finis Valorum had tried to comport himself as if he placed the Force above all. With Palpatine, the Force was not placed last. It wasn't even on the agenda.

"I understand your concerns entirely, Master Yoda," he was saying. "More important, I am sympathetic to them. But the Outer Rim sieges must continue. Despite what you may think, and notwithstanding the extraordinary powers the Senate has deemed fit to bestow on me these past five years, I am one voice in a welter. At long last the Senate is galvanized to end this destructive conflict, and it will not permit me to stand in the way."

"Exhort me, you need not, Supreme Chancellor," Yoda said.

Palpatine smiled dryly. "I apologize if I sounded sermonizing."

"Galvanized by your speech, the Senate was. The State of the Republic address, strongly it resonates. But concerned are many within the Republic that the crisis is not concluded."

"My address was a reflection of the spirit of the times, Master Yoda. What's more, I spoke from my heart."

"Doubt you, I do not. But too soon, your encouragements came. Coruscant celebrates imminent victory, when far from ended the war is."

Palpatine's frown contained a hint of warning, of malice. He took a moment to study his robes, scrutinizing the seams as if trying to look for the slightest hint of a smear or a wrinkle. Returning his gaze to Yoda, his fingers locked together. "After three years of fear, Coruscant craves relief. Morale is a delicate instrument, even the slightest malady can force it out of tune" he finished, emphasizing the word force a little too strongly for Yoda's liking.

"Agree with you, I do. But how can relief sustained with the seizure of outer rim worlds? Too many new fronts, the Senate urges us to open. The Jedi are too dispersed to serve effectively. If continued, not enough Jedi to protect the Republic there could be, even with the Kaminoan armies. A reasonable strategy, we lack."

Raising an eyebrow, Palpatine looked as if he had to stifle a laugh before regaining his composure. "My military advisers would not be pleased to hear you categorize their strategy as irrational. Then again, you could offer your criticisms during the next conference."

"Need to hear it, they do. Say it to them, I will."

Palpatine paused to consider the remark, then leveled a hard gaze. If it was a bluff that Yoda met without pause, Palpatine was careful to redirect attention away from it. "Would you prefer a drink, Master Yoda? I sense that we might be suffering from nerves."

"Obliged to accept your request, I am" Yoda bowed. Nodding his assent, Palpatine gently rose to retrieve a kettle from a nearby cabinet that contained a great variety of wines, tea mixes and accompanying ingredients to host cocktails for a great variety of guests from various worlds and systems. Pouring two drinks into ceramic cups he brought an orange tea to the aged Jedi. "If there is one thing we can agree on in these trying times it's that we are heading towards a grand finale of sorts."

"The fate of the galaxy, decided it can be. Perhaps sooner than expected."

"Perhaps the war will end soon, if we can ensure that our enemies will never rise again."

Suppressing the urge to refuse the orange tea that tasted too sweet, to the point that it made Yoda feel almost too relaxed, Yoda persisted in his stance. "Committed the Jedi are, to ending this conflict, but vulnerable we remain if scattered across the galaxy."

"Master Yoda, forgive my frankness, but if the Jedi are indeed too widely scattered to coordinate the sieges, then the burden will have to fall to my naval commanders" Palpatine answered, savoring the flavor of the warm beverage. "It is only natural that we make amends to new horizons."

Yoda compressed his lips and shook his head. "Answer foremost to the Jedi, our troopers do. Forged an alliance with them, we have. Forged in fire, this fidelity has been."

"I admit that the Jedi have been a dominant force in the conflict, and the clones have reason to ally themselves to them. But the purpose of an army is to be the vehicle for civilization itself, the means to ensure that cultural values are defended and enforced across time. Both the Jedi and the Clones are agents to that society, tools that though aligned are distinct. The Jedi are authorities on the Force, while generals and commanders are authorities on the nature of war."

"A Jedi's duty, first and always, is to the Republic. Responsible for the course of the conflict, we choose to be. To guide the clones is our duty."

Palpatine sat upright, as if struck. "I'm certain I misconstrue your meaning, but you almost make it sound as if our army was created for the Jedi."

"For the Republic, and none other," Yoda snapped.

Appeased, Palpatine said: "Then perhaps the clones can be trained to respond to others, as well as they respond to the Jedi."

Yoda made a glum face. "Trained the troopers can be. But wrong this strategy remains."

"May I ask that you think back to Geonosis? Do you not agree that we erred then by not pursuing the Separatists?"

"Unprepared, we were. New, the army was."

"Granted. But we are prepared now. We have the Confederacy on the run from the inner systems, and I will not allow us to repeat the mistake we made at Geonosis."

"No, a different mistake we make now."

Palpatine interlocked his fingers. "The division of our forces? Even with a the Grand Army of the Republic to defend us?"

"Yes."

"This is the wisdom of the Council?"

"It is."

"Then you will challenge the Senate's decision?"

Yoda shook his head. "Sworn by oath to uphold you, we are."

Palpatine spread his hands. "That does not instill confidence, Master Yoda. If it's nothing more than an oath, then you are duty-bound to reconsider."

"Reconsidered we have, Supreme Chancellor."

"You imply no threat, I trust."

"No threat."

Palpatine forced a fatigued exhale. "As I've told you on many occasions, I do not have the luxury of seeing this world through the Force. I see only the real world."

"No problem there would be, if the 'real world,' all there was."

"Unfortunately, we who are not attuned to the Force have that on Jedi authority only. Unless you mean to suggest that there could be other authorities?"

"No. No others there are." Yoda snapped. "Only the Jedi can be guardians of peace." Yoda wagged his forefinger at Palpatine. "It is for this reason, that we must persist, to ensure the demise of the Sith. Defeated they can be, should we strike with purpose. To end this war, more we will have to do than defeat Grievous and his army of war machines. More we will have to do than seize remote worlds."

"These Sith to whom you keep referring." Palpatine fell silent in thought, then said: "When you were believed killed at Ithor, Master Windu said as much to me."

"More attentive to his concerns, were you?"

Palpatine regarded him. "You can say that I was confident that you wouldn't vanish without sufficient cause. A skilled duelist you are."

"When need be, Supreme Chancellor. Noble, a lightsaber is, but a Jedi's true power stems from the Force."

Palpatine almost grinned at this remark, his thoughts hiding behind his calm gaze at the Jedi. Yoda couldn't help but wonder if Palpatine wanted to expose the thoughts that might be shielded in his mind before returning to the conversation at hand. "You never fully described what went on between you and Count Dooku on Vjun. Was he at all inclined to return to the Order? To the side of the Republic?"

Yoda allowed his sadness to show, even though his eyes were as dry as the stale air permeating the room. He could remember the attempt at Vjun, where he was almost willing to believe that Dooku might have had a chance to return to the light. Even if his views were radical at worst, would that not have been a better alternative than to see him discarded? That was what allowed him to pursue the chance to rescue Dooku in the first place, before his reputation was tarnished with constant atrocities and war crimes. For a few precious moments on a mission that felt as old as eons, he was about to believe his apprentice could return to his side...before the arrival of Kenobi and Skywalker put an end to that reality in an instant. Dooku betrayed himself with a fierce rage that convinced Yoda that he could never return to his roots as an esteemed Jedi Master.

But then the visions on Dagobah challenged that yet again. Seeing Dooku, Qui Gon Jinn and many others who either left the order or fell in battle peacefully coexisting was a vision that made Yoda yearn for a time centuries old. Where the deepest mysteries were those of spirituality instead of intergalactic affairs. How much of himself was lost from this war? How much did the Jedi lose as a whole? These questions couldn't leave Yoda's consciousness, no matter how much he wished it to be so. Dooku was the loss of the son he might have once cherished, as he did all those who belonged to the Jedi Order.

To let these attachments go was something Yoda could do arguably better than anyone before or since. It is what defined Yoda as the Grand Master of the Order and it was this wisdom that Jedi were rooted in the traditions that gave them resiliency amid the galaxy that allowed him to retain this role. The Clone Wars would be a test that Yoda would see through and he would ensure that the destiny of the Jedi would be fulfilled. In this test, precious little was certain as his eyes could only unveil the mystery of the Force for moments at a time. What was decided was that the Sith were elusive in their plot to destroy the Jedi, that the war had cost the lives of too many innocent souls and that Dooku had sacrificed his honorable reputation when he allowed the dark side to fuel his darkest desires.

Dooku was not willing to negotiate anymore, for his purpose depended on defeating the Jedi and pleasing his Sith brethren whoever they may be. Like Grievous, he would not hesitate to destroy as much as necessary to triumph. By fighting Dooku, Yoda fought with a dangerous vessel of the dark side of the Force. It was a vessel he would resist, just as he did on Dagobah.

"From the dark path, no returning there is" Yoda spoke, wondering how long he dwelled on these thoughts. He had since finished his tea and had set the decorative cup aside. If Palpatine noticed, it couldn't be discerned, as he chose not to comment on either the tea nor the brief pause in dialogue. "Forever, the direction of your life it dominates."

"That may make Dooku difficult to rehabilitate."

Yoda raised his gaze, his eyes stern and unflinching with a realization guided by the Force. "Captured, he will never be. Die fighting, he will."

"This Darth Sidious, as well, should Dooku be found and killed?"

Yoda's eyes fidgeted. "Difficult to say. Deprived of an apprentice, Sidious may withdraw, to preserve the Sith and prepare in secret for a resurgance."

"One person is all that's required to preserve the Sith traditions?"

"Traditions they are not. The dark side, it is."

"Then what if you should find Sidious first and kill him? Would Dooku's power increase? Could he possibly weaken without his supposed master to anchor him?"

"Only Dooku's determination would rise from the fall of Sidious. Different it will be, because a Sith late he has become." Yoda shook his head. "Dooku's newfound purpose, chaotic it could become. If infatuated alone, a chance there is that his aggression could be quelled as his passions fail to please him. If alike to Sidious in ambition, fill the void of Sidious he would and a great calamity would ensue."

"And General Grievous?"

Yoda made a gesture of dismissal. "More machine than alive, Grievous is. Though more dangerous for it, as seen with Belderone. But without Dooku's or Sidious's leadership, collapse the Separatists will. Bound together by the Sith they are. Mortared by the dark side of the Force in their struggle against the Republic."

Palpatine leaned forward with interest. "Then the Council is of the opinion that we must kill the leadership? That this war is more a battle within the Force?"

"United we are in that matter. Though with great caution, we stress. In years past, though attempts have been made, failed they have. Our purpose, as Jedi, we must defend."

"You are persuasive, Master Yoda. You have my word that I will bear this conversation in mind when I meet with the Senate to discuss our campaigns."

"Relieved, I am, Supreme Chancellor."

Palpatine reclined in his chair, before signaling for the doors of his chambers to open, to allow the Grand master to depart. "Tell me this, how goes the hunt for Darth Sidious?"

Yoda leaned forward for emphasis. "Coming closer to him, are we" before turning to pass two red guards that attended their posts as the chancellor's security. Content with the answer, Palpatine's chair swiveled to the view of Coruscant as their meeting came to a satisfying conclusion for both parties.

For now.

In a forward hold of Grievous's flagship, Dooku watched the cyborg general duel with his elite MagnaGuards, three of his trophy lightsabers in constant motion, parrying thrusts of the guards' pulse-weaponed staffs, slicing the recycled air a hairbreadth from the expressionless faces of his opponents, incapacitating arm and leg servos when he could. Grievous was a force to be reckoned with, to be sure, but Dooku deplored his habit of collecting lightsabers. It had merely bothered him that Ventress and lesser combatants had adopted the foul practice. Grievous's habit struck Dooku as the worst kind of profanation. Even so, he was not about to discourage the practice. The more Jedi that could be dispatched, the better.

Then again, Grievous' collection was lacking when it came to collecting the prized weapons of the Jedi high council.

The only aspect of Grievous's technique that vexed him more was the general's penchant for using four blades. Two was bad enough; in the form they had been used by Darth Maul, or in Anakin Skywalker's sad attempt to employ the technique on Geonosis. Once he thought that Savage Oppress might be able to harness such a form, for as much technique he ended up possessing before his death. Another brute that failed to impress. Still, though he loathed to admit it, he recognized that to wield a dual bladed weapon would require some finesse, at the very least, enough to ensure that the wielder didn't slash their own body into ribbons by accident.

But three? Even Ventress only needed two.

What was to become of elegance and gallantry if a duelist couldn't make do with one blade?

Well, what had become of elegance and gallantry, in any case? Makashi duelists were becoming a rare sight, even with the war's escalation.

Grievous was fast, and so were his IG 100-series sparring partners. They had the advantage of size and brute strength. They executed moves almost faster than the human eye could follow. Their thrusts and lunges demonstrated a singular lack of hesitancy. Once committed to a maneuver, they never faltered. They never stopped to recalculate their actions. Their weapons went exactly where they meant them to go. And they always aimed for points beyond their opponents in order to slice clear through.

Dooku had taught Grievous well, and Grievous had taught his elite well. Coupled with Dooku's coaching, their programming in the seven classic forms of lightsaber dueling made them lethal opponents. But they were not invincible, not even Grievous, because they could be confused by unpredictability, and they had no understanding of finesse. A player of dejarik could memorize all the classic openings and countermoves, and still not be a master of the game. Defeat often came at the hands of less experienced players who knew nothing about the traditional strategies. A professional fighter, a combat artist, could be defeated by a cantina brawler who knew nothing about form but everything about ending a conflict quickly, without a thought to winning gracefully or elegantly.

Enslavement to form opened one to defeat by the unforeseen. Worse still, the refined combatant who's skill was honed through experience that predicted certain patterns in a fight, left themselves exposed with a fatal flaw: they can't predict what the fool will attempt.

This was often the failing of trained duelists, and it would be the failing of the Jedi Order. Given that elegance, gallantry, and enchantment were gone from the galaxy, it was only fitting that the Order's days were numbered; that the fire that had been the Jedi was guttering and dying out. As with the corrupt Republic itself, the Order's time had come. The noble Jedi, bound to the Force, sworn to uphold peace and justice, were seldom seen as heroes or saviors any longer, but more often as bullies or mobsters.

They had to see that by now. To do otherwise was arrogance. An idealism for days past that didn't reflect the changing tides closing in around them.

Still, it was sad that it had fallen to Dooku to help usher them out.

The select opportunities where Dooku could face the members of the council, including those with Master Yoda, were never far from his mind. For all his flair with words, all his Force-given personal power, Yoda was nothing more than an old one, unwilling to embrace anything new, indisposed to see any way but his own. Yet how terrible not simply to fade away but to expire in full knowledge that the galaxy had tipped inexorably and at long last to the dark side, to the Sith, and might remain so for as long as the Jedi themselves had ruled.

Did even Yoda deserve such a fate? Dooku couldn't help but consider that the Jedi should recognize the rising eclipse.

The unforeseen …

Grievous and his guards were dancing. Going through their programmed motions. An Ataro attack answered by Shii-Cho; Soresu answered by Lus-ma …

Dooku couldn't suffer another moment of it.

"No, no, stop, stop," he yelled, coming to his feet and striding to the middle of the training circle, his arms extended to both sides. When he was certain that he had their attention and that neither droid nor general were going to reduce him to scorched flesh, he swung to Grievous. "Power moves served you well on Hypori against Jedi such as Daakman Barrek and Tarr Seir. But I pity you should you have to face off against any of the Council Masters. Given your history, I'm not convinced you'll win."

As Grievous growled at a frequency just above the threshold of Dooku's senses, the count called into hand his courtly, curve-handled lightsaber and drew a rapid X in the air, none other than a Makashi flourish. If he had been aiming for Grievious, and if Grievous was slow, the general might be missing some essential appendages. "Do I need to demonstrate what responses you can expect from Saesee Tinn or Obi-Wan Kenobi? From Mace Windu or, stars help you, Yoda?"

He flicked his blade quickly, ridding two of the guards of their staffs, then placing the glowing tip a millimeter from Grievous's death-helmeted visage. "Finesse. Artfulness. Economy. Otherwise, my friend, I fear that you will end up beyond the repair of even the Geonosians. Do you take my meaning? Or would you prefer a living example?"

His vertically slit eyes unfathomable, perhaps reconciling that this was one opponent Dooku couldn't catch off guard, Grievous nodded. "I take your meaning, my lord. They will die. They will all die."

Dooku withdrew his blade, allowing the faintest of appraisals to be read from a faint grin. "Again, then. With some measure of polish, if I'm not asking for too much." Dooku seated himself and watched them go at it. Before long, Grievous began to defy every convention of swordplay, to the point that the blades were now being held in his feet, axons rotating impossibly fast creating a whirl of burning light.

Hopeless, he thought.

But he knew that he was partly to blame. He had made the same mistake with Grievous that he had made with Ventress, by allowing her to fill herself with hate, as if hate could substitute for dispassion. Even the most hateful could be defeated. Even the most angry. There should be no emotion in killing, no self, only the act. When he should have been helping Ventress rid herself of self, he had instead permitted her to grow impassioned. Sidious had once confessed that he had erred similarly in his training of Darth Maul. Ventress and Maul had been driven by a desire to excel, to be the best, instead of merely allowing themselves to be pure instruments of the dark side.

Instead of defending their pride, they sought to expand it, not recognizing that with every step forward they were dooming themselves to failure. Ventress finally fell, and it wouldn't be long before Maul would meet the same pitiful end.

The Jedi knew this about the Force: that the best of them were nothing more than instruments.

Dooku grew troubled.

Was Sidious thinking the same of him now? Thinking: This is where I failed poor Dooku. Pitiful creature …

It was entirely possible, considering how wrong things had gone on Naos III. Standard days earlier, Dooku had sent Sidious a coded transmission that was as much apology as explanation, and had yet to hear from him.

He watched Grievous disarm two of the MagnaGuards, wrestling an electro-staff away and lashing it outwards in a sweeping rush.

In fact, Grievous was all instrument.

And Dooku. What was Count Dooku of Serenno?

He glanced at the hold's holoprojector table a moment before a blue holoimage of Sidious appeared above it. My time is at hand, he told himself as he centered himself proudly on the transmission grid, Grievous behind him, down on one knee, with head lowered. The disabled MagnaGuards clearing the room after retrieving their fallen weapons.

"Let us find counsel, my apprentice" Sidious spoke. "We have much to discuss."

"My lord," he said, bowing slightly at the waist. "I've been waiting."

"There have been matters that warranted my close attention, Lord Tyranus."

"Born, no doubt, of my failure at Naos Three. The ones I sent had every opportunity to kill Kenobi, Skywalker, and the Twi'lek pilot. Instead, they decided to attempt their capture, to extract additional funds from me, as well as to bolster their reputations. They will not escape our vengeance."

Sidious was dismissive. "Such is the way of bounty hunters. I should have foreseen this."

Dooku blinked. Was this an admission of failure on Sidious's part? Was Sidious's upper lip twitching, or was it nothing more than noise in the transmission? "The Force is strong in Skywalker," Sidious went on. "He grows in his power."

"Yes, my lord. Very strong. Next time I will deal with the Jedi personally."

"Yes, that time is drawing near, Lord Tyranus. But first we need to provide the Jedi with something that distracts them from hunting me."

Sidious's upper lip was definitely twitching. Was this worry? Worry from someone fond of saying that things were going precisely as planned?

"What has happened, my lord?"

"The Twi'lek's information led them to our rendezvous on Coruscant," Sidious said in a scurrilous voice. "They have also discovered the whereabouts of a prized asset, one that they have not known of since Naboo."

Dooku was stunned. "Is there a greater danger?"

"They think they have my scent, Lord Tyranus, and perhaps they do. Our hour of fate draws near."

"Can you leave Coruscant, my lord?"

From parsecs distant, Sidious stared at him. Even Grievous seemed uncomfortable with Sidious' piercing gaze which was strong enough to level mountains. "Leave Coruscant? By chance could you be suggesting, abandon Coruscant?"

"For a time, my lord" Dooku clarified. "Surely we can find some way."

Sidious fell silent for a long moment, then said: "Perhaps, Lord Tyranus. Perhaps. But fleeing would create unforeseen consequences."

"If not, then I will come to you."

Sidious shook his head. "I am touched by your loyalty, but that won't be necessary, Lord Tyrannus. I told you that their search for me would benefit us before too long, and I begin to see a way." Without warning, Sidious turned to Grievous who stepped forward. "Report, General. Belderone's occupation was a failure and yet I am told that the outer rim is ours. What news from the front?"

"The strategy is working perfectly, my lord. Belderone only prolonged the Jedi's confidence. Their forces have overextended themselves, leaving them thin across the outer rim worlds without the means to resupply future losses, in a vain attempt to contain our new offensive."

"Our losses?"

"Inconsequential, Lord Sidious."

"Good. We must respond in kind. I will deal with the ones on Coruscant. I need you to deal with the rest."

"My fleet stands ready, my Lord," Grievous said, still without breaking eye contact with Sidious' gaze.

"The Republic is monitoring you?" Sidious asked the general.

"Yes, Master."

"Can you divide the fleet...judiciously?"

"It can be done, Master, and it will."

"Good, good. Then move however many ships are needed to crush and occupy Yerbana with another force sent to retake Cato Neimoidia."

Again Dooku was stunned. So, too, was Grievous. "Is that wise, Master," the general asked carefully, "to attack so many targets, after what happened at Belderone?"

Sidious adopted a faint grin. "More than wise, General. Inspired. The Republic is too proud to recognize your forces for the danger they pose. By taking Yerbana we demonstrate that new fronts are being opened with each passing day. By returning to the homeworld of Viceroy Gunray with a vengeful navy, the Jedi might just be reminded that nothing is safe from me. But most of all, the Republic must see just how weak they are."

"But Yerbana, my lord," Dooku said with equal care. "Less a world than a corpse."

"It has some strategic value, does it not, General?"

"As a jump point, my Lord. But a dubious prize, regardless, when far better targets exist."

"It may prove costly to us, my lord. The Republic will almost certainly flatten it," Dooku spoke.

"Not if the Jedi are convinced that it must be retaken rather than destroyed, as they will do when Cato Neimoidia is seized again."

Confusion wrinkled Dooku's forehead. "How will we convince them?"

"We won't have to, Lord Tyranus. Their own investigations will lead them to that conclusion. You must only deceive them."

"You're quite certain, my lord?"

"They will not pass up an opportunity to capture Viceroy Gunray, and more crucially, Count Dooku."

The count saw Grievous's armorplast head elevate in surprise. "What leads you to believe that the Republic will not simply flatten me at this point? They nearly succeeded once? To travel to a world under siege could- "

"The Jedi are predictable, Lord Tyranus. They are obsessed with bringing their enemies to justice, instead of merely administering justice themselves."

"It is their way."

"Then you don't mind awaiting their arrival? Their investigation must seem to have reached its end, as it did for Sifo-Dyas."

Dooku inclined his head. "As ever, I am at your disposal, my lord."

Sidious grinned once more. "Hold the Jedi, Lord Tyrannus. Entertain them. Play to their weakness. Demonstrate your mastery, as you have on previous occasions. Humiliate them. Then, when the hour comes, kill them."

Grievous made a meaningful sound. "I will do the same with their warships, Master."

"No, General," Sidious cut in. "I have something else in mind for you and the rest of the fleet. While they divert expeditionary forces to these worlds, you must prepare the main fleet for one crucial task. But tell me, can you tuck your charges somewhere safe for the time being?"

"The planet Utapau comes to mind, Lord Sidious."

"I will leave that to you."

"And when I have seen to that, Master?"

"General, I'm certain you recall the plans we discussed some time ago, regarding the final stage of the war. The time has come to accelerate those plans. Now is the time to strike! Now is the time to launch our final operation!"

Grievous almost seemed to beam as Sidious declared with finality. "Prepare, General, for what will be your finest hour."

Dooku felt a conviction from Grievous that he had not seen in years, if ever. "Yes, Lord Sidious. The unsuspecting fools know not what awaits!"