Hello everyone! Well this is it and I am both super nervous and super excited. I've been building this fight up for three chapters (at least) and it's finally happening. I am super nervous as this is both a super important chapter and a chapter where I had to seriously push myself as a writer. For those of you who want to know why Grievous doesn't appear more in this story, it is because he is a certifiable pain in the ass to write outside of combat. Anyways, I would love to know what you all think. Did I do good? Did I do bad? Is there things I can improve on? What would you like to see in the coming chapters? Please drop a note and let me know.

Anyways, you didn't come to listen to (or rather, read) me ramble on. So, without further ado, I give you chapter 18...

(Coruscant: High Orbit)

Agent Garner was exhausted. About two hours ago, the awe factor of riding in a spacecraft had given way to mind-numbing exhaustion. He did his best to stay awake as Padme walked everyone through the nuances of maneuvering the Republic political landscape. Most of it was basic things like what person filled what role and who could answer what questions. The resulting conversation was a lively one, and one that he often found himself taking part in as official "head of security". However, it didn't change the boring nature of the discussion.

"Landing in ten," called back one of the crewmen.

"Any questions?" Padme asked in conclusion.

The various politicians and guards looked at each other. Shrugs and looks of uncertainty were passed back and forth before one of them finally answered.

"No, I do not believe so," answered the Chinese ambassador in heavily accented English.

Padme nodded. The look on her face made it clear that she wasn't convinced.

"Well then, welcome to Coruscant," she announced as she gestured to the front view port.

Everyone turned their heads and gasped. Out of some innate fear of the unknown, no one dared move from his or her spot. However, they didn't have to. Even through the narrow view port, the view of Coruscant was awe inspiring. As the ship glided into the atmosphere, skyscrapers of all different shapes and sizes rose to meet them. From his seat in the back, Agent Garner watched with a slack jaw. All around them, ships and speeder craft of all kind whipped by. It wasn't until the crew chief gave the thirty second call that Agent Garner fell back into his role as security guard.

Chancellor Palpatine watched with silent expectation as the Republic transport touched down on the landing pad. Locked deep within, the monster raged. The last thing he needed was these people speaking to the Senate directly. He knew plenty of the horror taking place on the surface. They would bring much more credibility to the conversation than Padme did. In turn they could threaten his entire plan. Someone on that planet was a major threat to him. However, the force was not revealing any clues as to who it was. Without that information, his only recourse was to wipe out the entire planet.

If he had known soon enough, he would have had the ship blown out of the sky the minute it entered the system. However, Padme's move had been swift and impulsive. He had not personally learned of her mission until three hours ago, soon after she would have been safely out of system with the delegation.

However, that side of him was tucked away deep within his mind. The side closer to the surface was simply curious. He wanted to know what these people were made of. What kinds of traditions did they hold? What was their sense of honor? Were they naturally warlike or peaceful? All of these questions and more ran through his head as he and a half dozen other officials and guards watched the delegation exit the ship. Naturally, the first to exit was Senator Amidala.

"Ah, welcome home. It is good to see you back safely," he announced warmly.

"It is good to see you as well," she answered with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Something's not right, whispered a voice in the back of his head.

He made a mental note and shoved the voice back deeper in his head as he visually picked apart the people coming down the ramp behind her. The first to catch his attention were several men in black body armor and blue helmets. The letters "UN" were stenciled in white on the front of each one. Each man and woman gripped a large slug thrower in their hand. At easily twice the size of a DC-17, the rifle was easily the most dominant feature of each stern-faced person. With a professionalism that was not lost on him, the lead guards sidestepped, while those behind moved forward. The result created an easy to close "door" in the case that things went sideways. However, it also gave both parties an unobstructed view of each other.

Warlike... not in the traditional sense, he mentally noted, Tactically smart... definitely. Getting rid of this group is going to take finesse.

Like with the other thoughts, he put it in the back of his mind as the Senator introduced various members of the delegation. Palpatine quickly noticed that the name of a different nation was being put in front of each representative, something that was quite unusual in a society of wholly united planets.

"This is Ambassador Coleman, of the US," Padme introduced quickly before moving on, "This is Ambassador Lang Zhou of China..."

"Welcome," Palpatine answered gracefully as each person was introduced.

Despite their obvious attempts to treat this like any other diplomatic mission, the Supreme Chancellor could tell that the planet had them awe struck. Not only did their wonder radiate out in the Force, but unless they were being directly spoken to, each person- soldier and diplomat- let their eyes wonder out across the mountain-like buildings.

Once initial introductions were finished, Palpatine watched with a thin smile as they loaded into the speeder waiting on the opposite platform. Yes, the decision had been knee-jerk, but it was a good one none-the-less. Having successfully pushed the Senate hearing out two extra days, he would have plenty of time to deal with this thorn in his side. Luckily, he had an asset in the city already.

Further down the artificial canyon, a lone figure in blue and black Mandalorian armor peered out from the shadows. With binoculars pressed against his helmet, he watched the Republic transport touch down on the pad. In most cases, he would have simply carried out the contract right here. A pressure sensor hooked to a few charges would do the trick. However, the job was only a few hours old, and the equipment was not in place. No. This would be nothing more than a recon mission.

"Quite the interesting security team," noted a voice over his helmet comm.

"They know what they're doing. I'm not sure about their weapons, though," he agreed.

"They're slug throwers. I'm sure we can handle them," the other person scoffed.

"Just don't do anything stupid," the leader warned before moving on, "I've got seven targets and eight security personnel. Targets don't look armed. I'm seeing possible grenades and sidearms on the guards... Body armor on the chest and head. Sides look exposed."

"There's supposed to be sixteen guards. Where are the other eight?" the other one asked.

With a frown he switched his view to thermal. The entire platform glowed various shades of yellow from the heat washing off the recently powered down ship. However, though it, he made out several orange blobs. There was the crew plus eight.

"Found them, waiting inside. Chances are that platform was a little small for everyone," he answered, "Could be extra detail for whatever they're using as an improvised embassy."

"That's what I'm thinking. So, what do you think?" the second one asked.

The leader didn't immediately answer as a Republic gunship roared overhead.

"Another day, another paycheck. They're leaving. I think it's time we did the same," he finally answered.

"Understood. Same meeting spot?"

"Unless you know something I don't." the leader agreed as he disappeared further back into the shadows.

(Volgograd, Russia)

Obi Wan staggered as an artillery shell slammed into a building behind him. He spun around in time to watch the building recoil from the blast. It leaned one way, then the other, before finally collapsing in cloud of dirt and twisted metal. The Jedi fought the urge to plug his ears as the sound of crumbling concrete and twisting metal pierced his ears. Another blast on the other side of him told him what he needed to know. This wasn't a good place to stop. He turned again and continued down his path. It had taken roughly three hours, but he was within a quarter mile of Grevious's compound. Here he had to go cautiously. Moving from building to building, he was careful to stick to shadows and trenches as he could. Of course, none of that would matter if one of the droids was using thermal imaging. His skin crawled at the thought. However, he pushed the fear back as he cautiously made his way down into an exposed sewer tunnel.

What little light that existed in the stormy night was quickly snuffed out as he picked his way through mud and waste of the concrete tunnel. As he ducked down to meet the height of the tunnel, he let out a disgusted moan at the smell. Working by Force alone, he spent the next several minutes making his way under the city streets. Through the ground, he could hear the occasional whine of repulsor-lifts overhead. Even more often, the tunnel shook in time with the rhythmic artillery fire crashing down overhead.

As he continued in closer, Obi Wan found himself second-guessing his decision. Yes, his death had given them sufficient motivation to carry out this attack. However, did he really expect to die? Was it really his call? The Jedi knew what he expected to happen. The question was if it would happen. He fully expected Grievous to want to wage this fight one on one, but that would only last as long as he was winning. The minute the tide changed, that entire apartment building would come down on him metaphorically, or literally. There was no surviving this encounter. The only question was if he could take the General with him.

Or was there a way? whispered a small voice.

Obi Wan frowned in thought. If the artillery fire and lack of droids were anything to go off of, the offensive was still intact. Though, to what extent, he could not say. No, this was right. Even if the offensive was successful, there was no possible way they could cross the city that quickly. The difference in numbers simply wouldn't let it happen. Besides, even if it did, after all these months and all of these missed opportunities, Grievous would be his. Dead or not, Obi Wan had the responsibility... No... right to bring down the "good" General. This was his mess, and he was going to fix it, even if it cost him his life.

With his mind fixed, the Jedi continued on. Through the dark grime, he made his way towards destiny.

(CIS Forward Command Post: 0.25 miles north)

Once, there was a man. He was now dead. There was once compassion and discipline, respect and loyalty. These things were no more. Once the core of the man, they had long since been burned away in the fires of war and betrayal. There was once love and devotion. Like the others they too had been burned away, this time by the even hotter fire of loss and abandonment. What was left in its place was a hollow metal shell of rage and hate. This man was little more than metal frame and exposed servos. More machine than man now, he had little to live for. He had no one to care for and no home to return to. He was a warrior without a country, and monster without direction. The only thing that sustained him was pure revenge and a twisted mind. He would see the Republic destroyed. He would hunt down those responsible for his misery and stand on the ashes of those who had betrayed him. The monster, Grievous as he was known, held only one goal. He would crush the Jedi and sweep aside all who stood between him and that goal.

As he stared at the holomap and tactical displays of the battle raging outside, General Grievous clenched his fists tighter and tighter. His days were numbered. Grievous had accepted this long ago. Yet here he was. His goal, the only quest that was truly his, was delayed yet again. Instead of burning the Jedi temple, he was playing homicidal errand boy for shadowy overlords with agendas he couldn't even begin to understand.

With a growl he spun around to face his tactical droid.

"Where are the Vulture droids? This battle should be over by now!" he demanded in a deep raspy voice.

The droid did little more than tilt its head in a common expression that was starting to appear more and more full of contempt by day.

Grievous resisted the urge to rip the droid apart as it explained, "They are grounded with the rest of the flying craft. The risk of losing them to the storm compounded with fire from the ground puts the possibility of successful attack at a mere ten percent, hardly satisfactory in any case. The risk of successful attack from orbit has an even lower probability."

"Fine. Bring up the reserve units and reinforce our center," he ordered as he stared at the battle map.

"Hardly necessary, they are attempting to flank-"

"Do as I say, droid!" Grievous snarled.

With a simple nod of its head, the droid turned to carry out his order. Satisfied that the droid would follow his order, General Grievous went about other tasks. For all of their intelligence, Grievous did not like tactical droids. The represented the two things he hated most. They were too reliant on data prediction with no instinct to go with it, and they reminded him of his greatest fear; the fear of losing what sentience he had left. Grievous knew full well what Dooku had done to him under the knife. It was a decision that he swore he would pay the man back for one of day. Perhaps he would do it after burning the temple. Maybe it would be before. He did not know or care at the moment.

(Republic/CIS Frontline)

Commander Cody fought to catch his breath as he ducked behind a cash register. All around him, a sea of red lasers tore into the store. wood splintered and burned as fire suppression sprinklers flooded the room with water. Behind him, what little was left on the shelves wen skipping across the room.

"Sir, we have a problem," Waxer declared as he slid in next to his commander.

"What's that?" Cody quizzed as he traded shots with a commando droid across the street.

Behind him, a third clone lobbed a thermal detonator through the door way.

"Captain Smith just reported in. They've got sight on a line of droids five clicks northeast. It's mostly B1s and B2s but they're packing some serious armor," he explained as he shielded his eyes from the flash of the explosion.

As dust cleared, the laser fire dwindled to a manageable amount.

"How serious," Cody ordered as he keyed up one of the Command frequencies, "Ghost Company, push up."

"At least a whole other division," Waxer replied as they sprinted from cover.

The conversation paused as the ground shook from another, bigger explosion ahead. On the other side of the building a Frag shell from an Earth tank blew open the building. Without skipping a beat, Cody burst in. The first droid lost its head while its partner took three shots to the side from another trooper.

Upon finding suitable cover, the Commander pressed Waxer for the details. What he found out wasn't quite the worst new possible but it was close. The unit was steering right for the center of the city. This would cause them to overshoot Cody's force and drive straight into Yosef's men. This wasn't good. Not only was plan A blown to hell. Now, plan B was in the exact same spot as plan A. There would be no rendezvous at Grevious's compound. There would be no rendezvous at the secondary spot, either. At this rate, there would be no rendezvous period.

He quickly keyed up the main command frequency.

"The is Southern banner, how copy?" he shouted over the noise.

"Southern banner, I hear you loud and clear," Yosef crackled over his helmet comm.

"I just heard, you've got an armored division-"

"I know. We're already preparing," the Colonel cut in, "Push for the building. We'll link up."

"Negative, we've got a decent flanking position. We'll engage from the side, then push on," he countered.

"That's going to take time," Yosef protested, "By bringing that division up, he has opened up a seam in his line. Use it. Get to that compound. We need to take out Grievous before he loses his nerve and retreats."

If he hasn't already, Cody thought bitterly.

Unlike Yosef, he was well aware of how the General operated. Unless a Jedi was involved, he rarely stuck his own neck out in combat. Despite, his own personal feelings, Cody took a half-second to consider the option and give orders to his own men.

As much as he didn't like it, this whole operation was about killing General Grievous. That was the goal with which Cody had rallied the men, and it was a promise he intended to keep.

"Understood. We're pushing on. I'll see you on the other side," Cody reluctantly agreed.

(CIS Forward Command Post, 10 minutes later)

General Grievous scowled at the map projected at waist height. Something had gone seriously wrong. The Division had plugged the hole, right where Grievous had ordered it to. Every projection, observation, and piece of data they had pointed to it being the location where both arms of the attack would connect. However, that was not what was playing out in reality. In reality, the north arm had run into a metaphorical and literal durasteel wall. However, the Southern arm had found a seem and was exploiting it for all it was worth.

Seeing one last chance to salvage the battle, Grievous began issuing orders. He had just finished when a ventilation grate crashed to the ground. Without looking, Grievous knew exactly who it was. How he got in, General Grievous would never know. Of course, this was Kenobi. Nothing shocked him anymore.

"It's a shame that you won't get to see those orders through," Obi Wan declared in a voice dripping with bravado.

At the same time, Grievous heard the distinctive snap-hiss of a lightsaber coming to life.

"Impressive," Grievous admitted as he turned to face his opponent, "Tell me, is this another attempt to bring me to justice?"

"You know me too well."

As he spoke, the General began sidestepping away from the command droids working behind him. He really did intend for his orders to be followed through. Behind him was a door leading out of what was once a large honeymoon suit. He kicked the door open as he brought two of his own lightsabers to life. The door ripped out of the wall and smashed against the opposite wall. Grievous never slowed as he visually picked Obi Wan apart. He had fought the man more than enough times to know that blindly rushing him was equivalent to suicide. No, the best option was to draw him in. Create false openings and force him to be the aggressive one.

He lunged forward. Blades clashed in a furious light show. However, each move was part of a carefully controlled dance. Obi Wan easily batted away the first swing and went for his exposed center. Grievous twisted around the stab, buried one leg in the wall, and propelled himself over the Jedi. At the same time, he brought his other blade back in a move that would have decapitated any lesser opponent.

Obi Wan swept away Grevious's first strike with ease. In the same motion, he stepped in and stabbed at Grevious's exposed center. That was the last easy move of the battle. For his blade met nothing but air. In the same instant Obi Wan lashed out, Grievous sidestepped and used his clawed feet to propel himself off the wall. The force screamed and Obi Wan dropped and spun around in an awkward maneuver that neatly tangled up his legs and drove his blade into the wall. He instantly the flashes of light in both his right and left peripheral vision spoke of the danger at the same time as the force. Desperate to get room to recover, Obi Wan pushed out hard with the force.

Then, as though a Rancor had just struck him in the gut, Grievous went flying down the hall. The blast hadn't been as hard as Obi Wan would have liked, and Grievous came crashing down just outside of lightsaber reach. However, it gave the Jedi Master the extra three seconds that he needed to recover. The floor shook as Grievous went crashing to the ground. The metal monstrosity buried his claws into the sub floor as he fought to control his tumble. Obi Wan untangled himself and was on Grievous instantly. His blade came down hard on Grevious's own hastily raised lightsabers. Blades locked and screamed. For just a second, Obi Wan actually believed he might end this fight quickly. His hopes escaped with the air in his lungs as Grievous drove his foot into the Jedi's solar plexus. Despite using the force to dampen the blow, Obi Wan was still sent reeling from the force of the hit.

"You really thought this was going to be that easy," Grievous taunted as he launched into his own vicious attack.

His two blades were little more than blurs as Obi Wan struggled to keep up with the General's assault. He batted away one blade as he twisted around the other. By the time, he had his footing again, the next blade was mere inches away. He backpedaled two steps and used the force to redirect that arm while he caught the next blade at neck height.

"I see your skills have improved," Obi Wan observed as he attempted to find an opening in the General's defenses.

"Much more than yours, I'm afraid," the Grievous replied as he continued to push Obi Wan down the Hall.

"We'll see about that."

The dance continued in Grevious's favor for the next minute as Obi Wan fought to catch arm after arm. It soon became clear that Obi Wan wasn't going to win a fight in this narrow hall. As he fought, Kenobi tried to call up the mental map he had of the area. Every floor except the bottom was laid out exactly like this. If he could reach the bottom alive, he might be able to turn things around, but how? That's when the idea hit him.

"I think you have more than enough lightsabers," Obi Wan declared between lightsaber parries.

"Never!" Grievous roared.

"How many will it take?" he followed up, "How many people will have to die until this vendetta of yours is satisfied?"

"As many as it takes to see your order destroyed," General Grievous snapped as he pressed his attack, "I will not rest until the Republic is destroyed and your order is nothing more than ash and shallow graves."

"For what purpose? In what world is this right? In the last year and a half, you have killed more people than the Kaleesh sanctions ever did." Obi Wan protested.

"Those were my people! You Jedi and your precious Republic starved MY people. It was MY people who died at your hand," he bellowed out as he lashed out even harder against the Jedi's defenses.

Careful, not to reveal his new-found sense of purpose, Obi Wan let the General push him back toward the main stairwell. As he did this, the Jedi continued antagonizing the General. If he could get him angry enough, he could plausibly cause Grievous to mess up.

"Well, if you hadn't gone on a war path across multiple systems-"

Obi Wan's retort was silenced as Grievous, again, slammed his leg into Obi Wan's chest. This time, it went high of the solar plexus and the Jedi was able to simply roll back with the blow.

"They murdered my wife!" Grievous shouted as he chased Obi Wan back, "What would you have me do?"

"Certainly not go on a genocidal rampage," Kenobi shot back as he ignored the pain in his chest.

Obi Wan's blood ran cold as he felt his back-foot press against the aging, steel door. Using the force, he threw it open just in time to back away from a potentially lethal vertical strike.

Even though the stairwell was wide enough to accompany several people at a time, it was still only built for emergency use and it showed. The stair well was essentially a rectangular concrete tube that extended down for hundreds of feet. Bolted into the walls was a metal staircase that circled down to the bottom floor. Obi Wan didn't allow himself to think as he ducked under Grevious's blade. In one fluid motion, he came up, launched himself over the railing, and deflected a strike at his back as he dropped into oblivion.

His stomach dropped as gravity took over. Unable to see in the darkness, Obi Wan relied on the force to guide him. After what felt like an eternity, he felt his fingertips touch metal. He snapped his hands shut around the metal bar and only allowed himself a second to stop swinging before he dropped again. This time he launched himself the opposite way. Behind him. there was a shower of sparks as Grevious's blade cut through the same railing that he had just launched off of. Two short seconds later, he caught the next process and repeated what he did above.

This continued the whole way down as Grievous clamored down after him. About half way down, the process was complicated as muffled explosions echoed through the cavernous space. One particularly violent one, nearly shook Obi Wan free of the railing that he had just caught. Cody was moving faster than he had anticipated.

"It appears you're running out of time," Obi Wan called up as he launched down to the next stage.

The only response was an angry snarl from somewhere up above. Obi Wan noticed with worry that the General was considerably closer than he thought. He was snapped from his thoughts as a dozen red lasers streaked up through his peripheral vision.

"So, this is where he plays dirty," Obi Wan muttered as he leaped across the empty space. However, he didn't dare go down. Unlike him, those droids were outfitted with the best in night vision and thermal imaging. The three squads down below would have little trouble tracking his downward decent, and with Grievous at his back, he couldn't afford to take them on, regardless of type.

No. He would fight this where he had the advantage of agility. Obi Wan paused to catch his breath as he considered his next move. The fact that the droids weren't shooting told him that Grievous and him were on the same side of the stairwell, while the force told him that the General was about two stories up. For Grievous, in the light, that was an easy jump from the opposite side. In the dark, Obi Wan doubted he could successfully make the landing well enough to fight. Obi Wan kept his blade off as he force jumped up a level. Red lasers traced his trajectory up. However, they went harmlessly to one side or the other. The lack of other droids told Obi Wan what he needed to know. The General wasn't worried yet. He had a moment of panic as he realized that he couldn't see Grievous. The blue and green blades should have stuck out like glow rods in the darkness.

Suddenly, both of those "glow rods" appeared halfway to Obi Wan. His eyes turned to saucers has he ducked down out of the way. Sparks flew as Grievous slammed into the concrete wall. The stairs shrieked with protest as bolts began to pull from the wall. Pressing his height advantage, Grievous pressed a line of attacks. Obi Wan batted away both blades and used the force to propel himself over the General and onto the landing above. Grievous followed his move and leaped over the destroyed steps to meet him on the landing.

So, the dance continued. However, it was with new dimensions. The two Generals leaped from landing to landing and flight of stairs to flight of stairs as they tried to get a suitable advantage over the other. Despite the massive taxation on his energy and body, Obi Wan preferred this- droids and all- to the narrow hallway of before. It gave him all three dimensions to work with.

However, things became more complicated as the stairs began to give way.

Obi Wan dropped down behind Grievous as the General unhooked his second pair of mechanical arms. Obi Wan landed, only to feel the twisted metal buckle under him. Ignoring the danger, he swung his blade down at an angle. At the same time, the bolts ripped out of the wall, and he and his blade fell harmlessly to the side. Acting off instinct alone, Obi Wan propelled himself off the edge of the step he was once occupying and went flying across the void. The force screamed out in alarm just in time for Obi Wan to slam into the concrete wall. He yelled out in pain as he crashed to the steps. He had no time to recover as the General came down on him. Obi Wan went prone as a blade came across like an ax blade. Obi Wan managed to worm his way passed the General's swinging blades as he added his own lightsaber into the mix. It was an awkward set of moves, but after a few agonizing seconds, he managed to untangle himself from Grievous and retreat down the steps to the next landing.

Suddenly, there was another explosion followed by the sound of small arms fire down below. Obi Wan allowed himself a thin smile as he stepped into one of Grevious's attacks. One way or another, the General was pinned in.

"It appears you have lost the battle," Obi Wan taunted as he sliced off Grevious's lower right hand.

"Hardly," General Grievous roared as he fought to close the opening in his defenses.

Suddenly a streak of yellow light illuminated the entire stairwell. Obi Wan knew the danger and immediately pushed up with the force to dampen the blast.

BOOM!

The rocket slammed into the stairs above. Obi Wan instantly lost almost all of his hearing as metal rained down around him. If Obi Wan doubted the clone's collective mood before, he didn't now. That was a Republic rocket and it had only missed his level by a couple inches. There was a spit second of confusion as he tried to figure out why the clones would fire off rockets with him up here. The question was answered as he realized how far up he was. At that vertical distance, his blade would be indistinguishable from those of Grievous.

Grievous shouted something as he found his footing. However, Obi Wan couldn't tell what and didn't care at the moment. He was trying to factor his own men into his next set of moves. In one swift move, they had become just as deadly as the monster he was fighting. Obi Wan deflected one blade and jumped back away from the next two blades before stepping in to take a swing at Grevious's exposed neck.

To say the rocket had startled Grievous was an understatement. He knew the spear tip of the clone army was closing in fast. However, he had not accounted for two things. He did not account for the fact that he had pulled away much of his reserves and that they did not have a Jedi to keep them on a leash. Now, he was stuck hundreds of feet in the air with a skilled duelist and rockets being fired at him.

As Grievous raced down after Obi Wan, he didn't fail to notice the confusion written on his opponent's face. That's when it dawned on him.

"They don't know you're, here do they?" he yelled as he caught the Jedi's blade with his three.

"You're a slow learner," Obi Wan shot back as he pulled free.

"And you're a foolish-"

His next words went unsaid as the dim black and grey of the space was replaced by a blinding white light. Grievous had watched Obi Wan throw himself back. However, by that point, it was too late. Deafening didn't even begin to describe the earsplitting nature of the sound, as the shockwave threw both him and Obi Wan into the same wall. He slammed into the concrete wall with twisted metal not far behind. Not unlike many times before, Grievous was grateful for his metal frame and lack of feeling as debris pelted him.

However, as his vision cleared, he realized that wouldn't save him. Grievous fought to pull himself free of his concrete restraints. He was quick, pulling out large chunks of the wall as he got free of his imprint. However, Obi Wan had the force. That coupled with pure adrenaline to give him an edge in recovery. Grievous snapped a blade to life as he attempted to block the oncoming attack. However, it went too far left and for the first time in a long time, Grievous felt pain... true unquestionable pain. Grievous looked down at his bloody opponent as the blade cut into his chest.

"It seems, neither of us will win this round," Grievous coughed.

As his vision narrowed, he saw it. A piece of metal, the width of two of his fingers sticking out from Obi Wan's upper right side. The last thing Grievous heard was the sound of Obi Wan's blade snapping off as he dropped to the ground. The last thing he saw was the body of his longtime nemesis hitting the ground next to him. It was with that image that his world went black.

Three hundred feet below, the clone quickly shoved another rocket down the tube and raised it up.

"You just won't die," he muttered as he looked down the sight.

"Hold it," barked Cody.

He froze. It was at this moment, the clone realized both blades he had seen a second ago were extinguished. Behind him, Cody felt his hopes raise.

"Push up," he barked before finishing in his head, We got the bastard.

As they marched up the steps, Cody's work lights cut through the darkness. In these twin lights Cody noticed evidence of a fight that confused him. The walls were marked with the blacken scars distinctive to a lightsaber. As he continued up, he found missing chunks of stairway requiring a grapple hook to get over.

"What the hell happened here?" one clone asked.

Behind him, a Russian soldier muttered an agreement in his native language. Cody ignored them, and the radio chatter as he cautiously continued up the stairs. Behind him, other units broke off to sweep the floors.

"Where are the droids?" demanded another person in rough basic.

"Yes," agreed his clone counterpart, "Something isn't right."

Cody didn't answer, and he picked up pace. He thought he had an idea, but it didn't make sense. After an eternity of climbing, Cody saw an image that was forever burned in his head.

Laying on the floor was General Grievous. The scorching hole in his back at chest height bared witness to his death. The Commander ignored him in favor of the man sprawled out next to him.

"General!" he shouted.

Cody took the remaining steps two at a time as he raced over to his former CO and personal friend. Every question in his head vanished into mist as he saw the man's bloody form. The man was dead. Cody was sure. The massive lacerations and shrapnel buried in him practically guarantied the fact. However, in a move born out of desperation more than logic, Cody scooped Obi Wan up and jammed two fingers into his neck.

"Come on... come on..." he muttered quickly as he desperately felt for a pulse.

Much to his surprise, Cody found it. The pulse was weak but unmistakable.

"He's alive!" Cody shouted, "Medic!"

As the clone pushed himself to the front of the group, Cody felt the pulse disappear, then appear again. However, this time it was considerably weaker.

"You've already died once. Don't you dare do it again!" he ordered frantically as the medic shoved him to the side.

Working quickly, the clone pulled out his gear and began working to contain the bleeding. Cody barked at the rest of his unit to keep moving as he stayed behind with the clone medic.

"What can I do?" Cody quizzed as he knelt down next to the other clone.

"See that bandage on his side," the Medic quizzed as he gestured to his blood-soaked right hand.

"Yes."

"Good. Grab a fresh bandage and press it there. We have to stop the bleeding if he is going to survive," the clone answered.

Cody nodded, grabbed a fresh bandage, and pressed down where the medic's hand had been a half-second earlier. So, they worked, each man unsure of whether or not Obi Wan would live through the next five seconds, let alone, actually survive his injuries. As time marched on, the fog cleared, and unanswerable questions formed in Cody's head. By the time, a gunship arrived outside to airlift them to safety, Cody was spinning with ideas, questions, and newfound suspicions.