The Kaleesh soldiers could only stare at the massive pile of rubble that stood before them like a great, terrible mountain. The Huk (or Yam'rii, as they were also called throughout the galaxy) had destroyed their most sacred temple. And the Republic had allowed it.
"This is unacceptable," said one of the soldiers. "Unacceptable!"
"We cannot let this go on any longer," said another. "What are we to do?"
The leader of the group stood silently for a moment or two, staring at the desecrated temple in anger. "We will do as we have always done," he finally replied in a quiet, almost distant-sounding voice. "We will fight."
"But General, how can we possibly keep it up? You may have pushed the Huk back, but the Republic will surely strike a harder blow."
"I know," the leader replied. "And it will surely be devastating for all of Kalee. But we must try our hardest to push right back again."
"But-"
"No! There is nothing that will prevent me from fighting tooth and nail for my planet's safety! Remember our battle cry? Temari raiga! Forget your fear! That is what you must all do in order to defeat the Huk and restore Kalee to a state of peace and security. Now, are you all with me or not?"
The soldiers stood there for a few moments, silent. Then one of the soldiers stepped forward toward his leader and said, "I am with you, General Grievous. You have always known that. Nothing could diminish my loyalty to you."
Grievous looked at the soldier standing resolutely before him. Impressed, he replied, "Thank you, Tirall. I do not, nor will I ever, doubt your loyalty to me and to our cause. But...can I say the same for the rest of you?"
The other soldiers looked at each other, contemplating the weight of the general's words. Then they stepped forward as Tirall had done-all of them, that is, except one.
"Eshaal," Grievous addressed the soldier who had not stepped forward and who was now leaning with his arms crossed against the wall of a crumbling building. "Did you not hear my question?"
The soldier looked up at the general with an arrogant half-smile, his eyes burning with contempt. "Oh, I heard you loud and clear, General," he answered. "You spoke, but you said nothing."
Grievous stared at Eshaal in surprise. "What did you say?"
"I said that you spoke, but you said nothing," Eshaal repeated somehow more contemptuously than before.
"You are out of line, sir." the general said.
"Oh, am I?" said the arrogant soldier. "Have you become so out of touch with reality that you think I am at fault? No, general, it is you who are to blame here. You have lead us into a permanent state of turmoil. You have robbed us of any opportunities at peace."
"Peace!" Grievous exclaimed. "What exactly are you insinuating? That we could have made peace with the Huk, who have enslaved and brutally murdered us for years?"
"You brought this upon yourself, General, and upon all of us, when you invaded their world."
Grievous stared at him in disbelief. He had indeed led his armies onto the Huk's home planet, but that was to ensure his people's safety. There was no way he (or anyone) could have known that the Huk would dupe the Republic into believing that the Kaleesh had been the aggressors the whole time. What's more, he had never dealt with such disloyalty and impudence-in his own elite, no less! Nevertheless, he tried to keep calm. "Eshaal," he said in a dangerously quiet voice, "when you joined the Izvoshra, you swore an oath. You promised to protect Kalee no matter what it took. Am I to believe that you are now going back on your oath?"
Eshaal slowly straightened out of his leaning position and walked slowly up to the general, looking him straight in the eyes. He narrowed his eyes and said, "Are you questioning my loyalty?"
Grievous stared right back at the soldier so hard that his gaze seemed to penetrate his skull. "Only if you are questioning my ability to lead this planet to freedom and safety," he replied.
Eshaal laughed a short, haughty laugh of disbelief. "Well, then," he said. "I guess I have nothing left to lose here." He paused for a moment as the general stared at Eshaal in confusion. Then suddenly Eshaal whipped around and fired his rifle.
Tirall fell to the ground, his hand over his heart where he'd been hit. Grievous rushed over to Tirall in shock, trying to help him. The other soldiers crowded around, watching. "Stay with me, Tirall!" he shouted in desperation. "Stay with me!"
Tirall was uttering quiet, incoherent sounds, as if he were trying to say something, but no one could understand him. "Koorvan," Grievous said, now desperate enough to address his officer by his first name (which he almost never did). "Koorvan, what is it?"
Tirall looked his leader in the eyes, weak but still fighting with what little strength he had left against the intense pain in his chest. He was determined to say what he needed to say, but he seemed unable to make the words come. Finally, with a look of sadness in his eyes, and in a voice so quiet Grievous almost didn't hear him, the soldier said one final word.
"Dymir..."
"What? Koorvan, what does that mean?" But his body went limp in the general's arms. Tirall was dead. Grievous stood up and turned away from his comrades as a few tears escaped his eyes.
"General," said one of the soldiers. "Should we take his body to the eastern temple?"
The eastern temple, where the elders performed the usual rituals before laying the dead to rest. "Yes," Grievous answered quietly, and the soldiers left with Tirall's body. His heart ached from the loss of his friend and the treachery of his former comrade-in-arms. How can he do this? Why did he do this? When Grievous turned around again, the soldiers had gone, and Eshaal was nowhere to be seen. He must have escaped while we were trying to save Koorvan, he figured. He promised himself he'd find Eshaal one day and kill him to avenge Koorvan. And he would find out the meaning of that word...Dymir.
"So Koorvan Tirall...is your father?" Grievous asked in a slight trance, still in shock from the wave of memories that had overtaken him just now.
"Y-yes," the girl answered. "Why...did you know him?"
"Yes..." Grievous answered, still in a bit of a dream-like state. "And you...is your name...Dymir?"
The girl looked at him, wide-eyed. "Yes," she replied. "How did you know my name?"
Suddenly a crash thundered from down the corridor. The mercs were getting away. Grievous snapped out of it and said, "Come on. We have to get out of here."
"Here," said Dymir. "I'll help you take them out."
Grievous had to stifle a laugh. "What? You?"
"Yes," the girl said matter-of-factly. "I'll have you know the soldiers I lived with taught me well."
Grievous stared at her for a moment, and he thought he could sense a bit of her father in her. "Just follow me." He walked away from the door and started to sneak down the hallway, careful to stay in the shadows. Dymir left the room, following his lead very closely. It was quiet at first, but after a while Grievous thought he could here whimpering in a room not far down the hall. He followed the sound and, sure enough, the mercs were hiding in the room, loading their weapons. "Wait here," Grievous told Dymir, and he began to approach the door.
"What? No!" said Dymir in a voice just above a whisper. "I'm not going to let you leave me behind! I'm going in there and fighting them off with you!"
Before Grievous could respond, Dymir rushed into the room and ignited her lightsaber. The blade was dark yellow, and it lit up the room much better than the torches that lined the walls. Grievous could hear some of the mercenaries start to laugh. "Okay, kid," said one of them, laughing. "You'd better put that down before you hurt yourself. That's not a toy-"
"I know what it is, you scum!" shouted Dymir. "And I'm not afraid to use it!"
There was a small period of silence. Then the merc said, "Kid, I don't want to have to do this, but if you don't put that laser-sword down, I'm gonna have to shoot you. And you don't want that, do you?"
"Try me," Dymir replied.
The merc sighed. "I really don't want to do this-"
"Then I suppose you have no choice but to surrender." Grievous stepped out of the shadows and into the dimly-lit room. Dymir turned to look at him for a second but turned back quickly for fear that her enemies should fire. But she needn't have worried; the mercenaries were trembling at the sight of the powerful general as he ignited two sabers and stepped beside Dymir. "Are you sure you can handle this?" he asked her.
"Absolutely," replied Dymir.
"All right, then." Grievous and Dymir rushed at their opponents in a flurry of light. The mercs fired their blasters, but it was no use. Grievous cut one of the merc's blasters in half before slicing the merc himself in half and impaling another at the same time.
Meanwhile, Dymir swirled and spun her saber in a flurry of strikes and slashes, cutting down two thugs before they had time to lift their blasters to fire. Two more, realizing far too late the threat the young girl presented, opened fire, but Dymir deflected the scarlet blaster bolts with ease, spinning her lightsaber in such a manner that it looked more like a great yellow blur. She rushed up to one of them, still deflecting blaster bolts, and kicked him in the chest. It was a quick, hasty kick, not very strong, just a diversionary tactic. She relies too much on speed and diversion, Grievous thought as he watched the girl's demonstration. That could be a problem.
Finally, there was only one mercenary left. Grievous and Dymir stalked up toward him as he quivered in fear. He still had his blaster aimed at Grievous, but he was trembling so badly that his aim could not have been right.
"We have you now," Grievous proclaimed to the mercenary.
"Any last words?" asked Dymir.
The mercenary continued to tremble before them, surprised at having been overtaken so easily. "How-how did you get to be so...powerful? You are a child. How...?" His legs gave out beneath him, and he fell to the ground.
Dymir walked up to him and knelt beside him. "The Kaleesh and Sha'Koran warriors taught me well," she replied. "I may be a child, but I am the child of Koorvan Tirall, one of the members of the famed Izvoshra! He may have been killed, but I will continue his legacy!"
She held her lightsaber up to his neck, and he whimpered. "Please, don't kill me!" he cried. "I'm begging you, let me go!"
"I can't do that," Dymir said in a cold voice. "You are too dangerous to be left alive. Look at what you have done to the city! Look at what you have done to this building, overthrowing the government and killing innocent people in the process! You sicken me, filth!" Without another word, Dymir impaled the mercenary in one swift move, and the mercenary lay dead on the ground.
As they switched off their lightsabers and made their way out of the building, Grievous took a long, hard look at Dymir. Where had she learned to fight like that?
"You're General Grievous, aren't you?" Dymir asked suddenly.
"...Of course," Grievous answered.
"I knew it!" Dymir exclaimed. "How else would you have recognized my father's name? You were his leader! You led the Izvoshra!"
"How do you know about the Izvoshra?" Grievous asked.
"I learned about it from some of the soldiers who fought in the Huk wars," Dymir replied. "They raised me and taught me how to fight. They fled to Dracoria to protect their families from the Huk. Most of them were Sha'Koran, but a few of them were Kaleesh. You probably already know this, but Kalee wasn't the only planet that the Huk invaded and terrorized."
Grievous could only stare at the girl in shock. "Yes," he said to her. "Of course I knew that."
"Anyway," Dymir continued as they walked out of the building and headed out of the city, "those soldiers taught me everything I know. And when I was old enough, they gave me this lightsaber. They told me it belonged to my father, but they managed to retrieve it after he died. They thought I might get some use out of it. I knew I wouldn't have the same skills as a Jedi, but I knew I could learn sword techniques, the same ones they teach to those who use Lig swords. But after the Republic got involved, they started to become...disillusioned. They changed. They just...gave up. They got drunk and stopped trying to fight the threat that the Huk posed on us. And once the Mortax rose up, they were too drunk to care what was going on. I told them that, and they got angry and banished me from their group."
"Is that why you were crying earlier?" Grievous asked.
Dymir blushed and turned away to hide it. "I wasn't crying, " she lied.
"I heard you," said Grievous.
Dymir looked back at him and admitted, "Okay, fine, I was crying! But everything just seemed so bleak. I didn't know what else to do. Except fight. Whenever I needed to, I would fight like I always have."
Grievous just looked at the little girl in silence. She's definitely got a lot of Koorvan in her.
They were now outside the building, where the army of battle droids was waiting for Grievous. They held up their weapons at the sight of Dymir, who was unfamiliar to them. "Stand down," Grievous ordered, and they lowered their weapons. "This half," he continued, gesturing to the droid to his left, "will stay and secure the city until we get further orders from Count Dooku. The rest of you, follow me back to the ship." Grievous led the way out of the desolate city, the battle droids following closely behind and Dymir half-walking, half-running to keep up with him at his side. Grievous noticed that Dymir never looked back at that city, not once. He didn't blame her.
"Will you take me with you?" Dymir asked suddenly. "I know it's kind of, well, short notice and all, but there's nothing left for me here on Dracoria. And...I think I could do some good for the Separatists. I mean, you've seen my fighting skills just now."
"Yes, I have," Grievous replied, thinking. "Your skills are better than I expected. They need work, but I can see you have potential..."
"So...what do you say?"
As Grievous opened the door of his ship, he took a look at the girl standing at his side. The wind blew gently through her short, dark hair, and her dark eyes glowed with determination. She's convincing, I'll give her that. "All right," he said. "I'll take you with me. But you'd better not disappoint me."
A huge grin grew on Dymir's face, and Grievous got the feeling that she hadn't smiled like that in a long time. "I won't disappoint you, General, I won't!"
