Utapau
Below the spacious rafters and metal walkways of one of the Separatist Core ship's impromptu meeting areas in its main hangar, surrounded by legions of battle droids and flocks of vulture fighters, the Executive Separatist Council was struggling to understand and come to terms with what had unfolded since the Battle of Coruscant. Some of the details were incomplete, others deeply concerning. There was one thing abundantly clear to Passel Argente, Magistrate of the Corporate Alliance.
"We seem to have the advantage now," Argente muttered. When no one seemed to notice, the Koorivar raised his voice. "We seem to have the advantage now!"
The stormy tirade of accusations Nute Gunray had been laying on Grievous ended abruptly. The Neimoidian coughed twice in surprise, swallowing on his own spit, then sat straight up.
That fact was obvious on the map of the Galaxy floating overhead. On literally every front, the disjointed Separatist factions had all made gains. Every corner of the Galaxy was rapidly becoming less Republic red and more Separatist blue. Argente's own Corporate Alliance had retaken Murkhana. On the adjacent side of the Perlemian Route, the Commerce Guild, which hadn't won a single battle since briefly taking Quermia, were retaking systems all around Felucia. If they could hold there, then the siege of the important Separatist worlds of the Tion Cluster would be relieved. Even the Geonosians-in-exile, who hadn't won a battle in more than two years, had broken out of their containment on Hypori, and had sent a picket fleet to Siskeen. They were engaged with Republic forces on the edge of the secretive security zone set up around Geonosis—where if rumors were true, the Republic was using Geonosian slave labor to build something very big called Stardust.
["We are winning for now,"] Archduke Poggel the Lesser said ominously in a string of Geonosian clicks. ["My sources tell me our change of fortune may only be a temporary reprieve. Once the conflict between the Jedi and the Senate settles down, we may face a Republic more united than ever."]
Gunray's vice chair of the Trade Federation, Rune Haako, bowed his head toward the table and shivered at Poggel's prediction. "What if—what if the Jedi take control?! What if they kill the Senate and turn on us? They will put us all to the sword!"
The prediction was so far-fetched, even from Nute Gunray, that Passel Argente had to bite back the quip forming in the back of his mouth. Instead, he decided to use their fears to his own advantage. "Perhaps the safest thing to do then, is to go all in. Attack on all fronts."
Wat Tambor slouched, fiddling with the translator built into the front of his armor. Passel Argente's face hardened as he steeled himself for a debate—the Techno Union was ever the Corporate Alliance's arch nemesis. But instead, when the static noises emanating from his pressure suit ended and were replaced by an audible voice, Tambor nodded in agreement. "The Emir of the Techno Union concurs with the Corporate Alliance Magistrate."
"The Chair of the Banking Clan agrees as well," said San Hill. "We must devote all of our forces to an immediate attack."
"NO!" Everyone turned abruptly, scarcely able to believe their own ears as General Grievous stood up so fast his chair fell down. "I am ordering a temporary halt of all attacks—we must shore up our defenses."
"General we have the—" Shu Mai began, before being violently interrupted as Grievous lashed out, banging his fist onto the table in front of her.
The Cyborg general was absolutely livid as he raged at them. "FOOLS! We have lost half the fleet we brought to Coruscant! Our ground forces are nowhere near the size we need to secure the planets we have retaken! The moment the Republic slime regroups, we will be caught over-extended in poorly-secured hostile territory. We must take the opportunity to reorganize while we have the chance!"
Tambor and others began to counter, but Argente remained silent as he contemplated Grievous's tirade. At first suspicious, but then begrudgingly realizing the General was right.
For nearly a year, the CIS had been losing.
Badly.
The IGBC had lost all but Muunilinst and a few minor worlds. Cato Neimoidia was still cut-off and under siege. Skako remained deep behind Republic lines after an invasion following Tambor's failed gambit at Anaxes. Felucia had been nearly lost, and Castell remained under Republic control. The Retail Caucus was entirely out of the war. The Hyper-Communications Cartel no longer even had a proper military force.
Even Argente's own homeworld of Kooriva remained in Republic hands, despite the best efforts of his Fusiliers. Morale among the non-droid forces had collapsed, only barely buoyed by the Republic's problems. The capture of Count Dooku had hit the Confederacy harder than anyone would like to admit.
"We lost half the fleet at Coruscant, you say?" Nute Gunray asked, his round eyes narrowing in fury. "So many resources sunk into those craft, all lost for nothing. You and Dooku made grand promises about capturing Chancellor Palpatine, but now Dooku himself is in Jedi custody!" At that, the Neimoidian stood up and pointed a finger in Grievous's direction.
Fuming, the cyborg stood even taller than he already was, attaining a height greater than some Wookiees.
Those two had been quarreling for years, and Argente knew that, like every other time, it was nothing but bluster and posturing. The Koorivar spoke next, not to pick a side in their pointless blame game, but because the businessman in him saw the opportunity. The opportunity to suggest the very thing the Republic and CIS had denied each other for three years.
"Perhaps while we have the upper hand, we offer them a ceasefire then?" Argente suggested, bringing the entire argument to a screeching halt.
"Have you lost your mind?" asked the Quarren ex-Republic Senator Tikkes, sitting on the far end of the long table. "One moment you are advocating for an all-out assault, now a ceasefire?"
Flustered and realizing how inconsistent he did seem, Argente cleared his throat. "I was convinced by Grievous's arguments—"
"I DID NOT ADVOCATE A CEASEFIRE!" Grievous snarled, spinning away from Nute Gunray to face the Koorivar. "DO NOT PUT WORDS IN MY MOUTH!"
"I am not necessarily advocating for a ceasefire either," Argente stammered quickly, surprised by the anger in the cyborg's voice. He realized the contradiction, admitting to advocating for it when accused by Tikkes, but denying it when Grievous began to scream. "What I mean—"
"You just said you were advocating for it," San Hill said. A triumphant smile had crossed the Muun's face.
Wat Tambor adjusted his microphone setting again. "All out attack or surrender? Which position are you advocating?"
"I did not say surrender!" Passel Argente spat. "Merely a ceasefire. The war has gone on a year too long if you ask me. The Corporate Alliance has lost trillions of credits in ship losses alone—the losses to our infrastructure, employees, and mobile property are incalculable. We've retaken Murkhana and, even in victory, the planet where we had the majority of our assets has been ruined—facilities destroyed, hotels leveled, beaches drowned by tidal waves. It's awfully convenient of the Techno Union, which is able to claim neutrality and avoid the orbital bombardments of its facilities, to oppose a ceasefire even when we are losing! I was mistaken earlier, and Grievous made me see that."
All of the other Separatist council members began muttering amongst themselves. There was something devious in the way some of them turned their faces away from Argente's gaze. The Koorivar recognized his mistake instantly. He had divulged sensitive information on the state of affairs of the Corporate Alliance to a roomful of its ruthless adversaries.
Well damn them, Argente thought, fuming, looking at Rune Haako and Nute Gunray. The Commerce Guild must be faring almost as poorly, and we all know the Banking Clan is in even worse shape, with most of its assets nationalized by the Republic!
It was no coincidence that Shu Mai was the next to speak. "While I am not in a position to advocate for a ceasefire, the Commerce Guild will not oppose one."
"Neither will the Banking Clan," said San Hill.
"I will not allow a ceasefire until all of the Jedi filth are dead!" the cyborg General bellowed.
"And what if the Jedi take over the whole Republic?" Rune Haako asked. "We will stand no chance against the—"
"The Jedi will not take over anything," Grievous chuckled firmly, "You can trust me on that."
["That is not what my sources tell me,"] Poggel the Lesser clicked away, carrying his staff as he paced the table. ["They say that Dooku is now an informant, who as agreed to tell the Jedi everything about us and corrupt Republic Senators in exchange for an immunity agreement!"]
"LIES!" Grievous shrieked, bumping the table clumsily as he spun quickly to the left, one of the B1 guards standing behind it stumbling back slightly in fright before snapping back to attention.
["You should at least acknowledge the possibility,"] the Geonosian argued. ["We would be victorious were it not for his contradictory directives, as you yourself have stated repeatedly, General. It is entirely possible Dooku has been part of some larger scheme for his own gain."]
Grievous's reptilian gaze widened and then narrowed, as if contemplating the possibility for the first time.
San Hill tented his fingers nervously at Poggle's statement. "The Banking Clan has… well, never mind."
Argente wanted to ask exactly what the Banking Clan had, but before the Koorivar could pry, his datapad vibrated. Of course, he had switched the device to the do-not-disturb setting like he always did for important meetings. The fact it was vibrating at all meant that the software thought the message was important enough to ignore that. As discreetly as possible, the Koorivar slid the datapad halfway from his robe pocket and saw the top half of the screen. Swirly Koorivar letters spelled the equivalent of PRIORITY ONE from a Saleucami hyperspace code.
"Apologies, I must take this." Argente stood up, making his way towards a nearby catwalk to gain some privacy, but found his path blocked by a pair of Magnaguards.
"If this is so important, Magistrate," Grievous hissed, stepping up to Passel's side, "I insist you elucidate us all."
Saleucami was the site of a Corporate Alliance Fusilier base which should have been evacuated by now, naturally it would attract attention.
"Fine, I don't have time for this, General," Argente snorted, opening the transmission as the cyborg stalked away.
The ghostly holographic projections of a Koorivar Fusilier officer appeared over the screen. He was clad in armor which was red in real life, but rendered various shades of blue by the miniature holographic projectors in Argente's handheld datapad. Bafflingly, standing next to him was a Wookiee. Even more bafflingly, on closer inspection, Argente could make out the Fusilier's rank and it was that of a subcommander. It was simply not possible that a subcommander had any information important enough to interrupt a meeting of the Separatist War Council.
"How did you get this number, subcommander…?" Argente huffed in disbelief.
"Sivode sir—I mean, Magistrate," the officer stammered, promptly stiffening. "Magistrate, it took some doing. I had to speak with three secretaries and undersecretaries in the Corporate Alliance Policy Administration."
Argente's skin flushed black with embarrassment. Standing at Grievous's right shoulder, Nute Gunray smiled in amusement.
"I had to contact you immediately—the allegations are against Lord Dooku."
["Dooku?"] Poggel the Lesser asked with suspicion as several other members of the council sat up straighter in their seats, clearly attempting to listen in.
Now Argente wished he had been more forceful in his refusal to answer a private call in front of the entire War Council.
"Who—sir, if I may ask, who is there besides you?"
Passel gritted his teeth. "General Grievous and the War Council."
The other Koorivar shuddered visibly. "My apologies but this information does pertain to them as well. Several sources, one of whom is standing next to me, have claimed that Count Dooku has supposedly been in league with the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. The two have manipulated our entire war effort to benefit themselves."
A silence fell over the hangar at that bombshell so complete that Argente swore he could hear the sound of his own heart beating in his ears. Even the din of B1s chattering among themselves in the background had ceased entirely.
The Wookiee let off a series of woofs which Argente's datapad translated into aurebesh letters spelling out his utterance in Basic. "You've heard the gist. Where is my payment?"
"Payment?" Argente asked in confusion, then a moment later realized this Wookiee must be a mercenary or spy of some sort. "We'll discuss payment after we review the data. Who are you?"
When the Wookiee began growling in a more quiet and even tone, a translated sentence appeared over the Wookiee holopresence's head. "You may call me Isshikabukk."
"Well, well, Ishikabukk, how come I have never heard of you before?" Grievous hissed menacingly.
"The galaxy is filled with spies and those out for profit," Argente snorted, to which the Wookiee let out an angry protest. "I am still waiting for the data."
"I already transmitted it," Sivode said. "You should receive the data I have already gone over in a few seconds. Be warned, it comes in multiple parts. The video portions are only the tip of the iceberg. The financial data is extensive, and I expect our analysts will need months to fully verify it."
Moments later, every datapad in the room received a download.
The evidence, consisting of video footage, audio-recordings of holocalls, and decrypted databursts was damning. After witnessing footage of a Clone trooper being turned over by Republic forces to Dooku to contain a leak on something called 'inhibitor chips,' they heard several recordings of conversations between Palaptine and Dooku.
A particularly surprising piece of evidence, which caused the Koorivar's mouth to hang open, was a classified recording of the Jedi High Council discussing their own discovery that Dooku had placed the order for the Clone Army shortly after a scuffle on Oba Diah.
"Know now we do, that guide the creation of the Clones from the beginning, Dooku did," said a squat holorecording of Grandmaster Yoda. "Our enemy created an army for us."
The much taller seated holopresence of Mace Windu spoke next. "If this was known, confidence in the war effort, the Republic, and the Jedi would vanish. There would be mass chaos."
Yoda blinked once and opened his fist. "Cover up this discovery, we must. No one, not even the Chancellor, may know."
Feeling faint, Argente collapsed back into his chair.
"This must be a Jedi truck!" Grievous scoffed. "Misinformation—psychological warfare to make us lose our resolve!"
"Maybe," San Hill said thoughtfully, stroking his chin, "But there are many things about this war which do not add up."
Indeed, Argente thought to himself. His thoughts shifted slightly, and he wondered how this Wookiee could have possibly gotten hold of top secret Jedi High Council meetings. He struggled for a moment to remember the Wookiee's moniker, then spoke up.
"Isshikabukk, where did you get this information?"
Rather than answering verbally, he reached his hand up out of view and pushed the holorecorder down, shifting the scene for all of the viewers. Down at Isshikabukk's feet was a giant wheelbarrow with four bound and unconscious Jedi in it. Argente couldn't recognize three of them, but the one curled up to the far left of the wheelbarrow was none other than Quinlan Vos.
"How did you—what are we looking at, subcommander?!" Argente stammered in confusion, jolting upright in his seat.
"The Wookiee arrived with four captured Jedi and the data—"
"And you decided to wait until now to mention the Jedi?!" Rune Haako asked in a fearful voice. "We cannot trust any of this with Jedi involved! The Wookiee might be working for the Jedi!"
Again, Grievous banged two fists down on the table at either side of the datapad, this time so hard he dented the surface and knocked Argente's datapad into the air. "It's a trick! KILL THEM!"
With an outstretched hand, Argente deftly grabbed his datapad with both hands and glared at Grievous. "You will do no such thing!"
Magnifying his voice further, Grievous stooped down, lowering his head to Argente's level. "ANNIHILATE THEM! EXTERMINATE THE JEDI AT ONCE!"
The holopresences of the Wookiee and the Koorivar subcommander jumped in startlement.
"Are you insane?" San Hill snapped, scrolling through the data on his own handheld. "The Jedi are the only ones who can verify this data."
"And if the Jedi take over," Rune Haako croaked, "They will hang us all for killing four of their own!"
["If this data is true,"] Poggel the lesser clicked, ["Then the Jedi are now our allies! We have all been betrayed by Dooku!"]
Discussion immediately broke out amongst the Separatist leaders at that comment. To Argente's right, the Aqualish Po Nodo stared at Shu Mai and Cat Miin, who both were conversing with each other in Gossam. After a few seconds, Shu Mai turned to the Passel Argente and nodded.
"I will instruct all Commerce Guild forces to capture any Jedi they come across alive, and protect them from the mad Clones. They are not to be executed."
Grievous let off an angry shriek at that comment.
Argente ignored the cyborg and looked subcommander Sivode's holopresence directly in the eyes. "Pay that Wookiee his four million bounty for capturing those Jedi. Keep them bound and take them to—UGH!" The Koorivar gasped in pain.
Grievous had seized him by the arm and yanked him from his chair. Argente found himself dangling in mid-air, the cartilage in his wrist making popping noises under the pressure of the cyborg's grip. With one of his other hands, Grievous pried the datapad out of the Koorivar's grip and crushed it to dust, silencing the holopresences on the other end.
"Unhand him at once!" Nute Gunray yelled angrily.
"If you insist," Grievous cackled evilly. After a dramatic pause, he dropped the Argente crotch-first onto the metal seat back. After a metal bang and a loud thud, the Koorivar gasped in pain and curled up into a fetal position on the ground.
"You have gone too far!" Gunray continued, once again pointing his finger. "You may be in command of the Separatist droid armies, but we are in command of the government."
When Argente came to and crawled back into his chair with a groan, he found most of the Separatist leaders standing around the table. Grievous was now pacing back and forth, muttering to himself, as if talking himself into something.
"It seems the majority of us support at least capturing the Jedi, rather than killing them," Wat Tambor muttered, trying to get the topic of conversation back to the matter at hand.
"Does anyone oppose this?" Shu Mai asked.
Argente glared at Grievous with a furious frown waiting for the cyborg to say something. "Are you going to apologize for that outburst?" he asked finally, breathing heavily as he leaned back in his chair for support.
Grievous scoffed with disgust and shook his head. "I am relocating you to the Mustafar System. It is a volcanic planet. You will be safe there."
"So you can go to Saleucami and kill all of the Jedi in Corporate Alliance custody while I'm out of the way?" Argente asked. He jumped to his feet and groaned in pain, surprised that it hurt.
"Ah, then they will still be held on Saleucami?" Grievous snorted. "Magistrate Argente, you always seem to say too much."
"I have no faith in Grievous remaining Supreme Commander," Argente said defiantly. He suspected that at least Nute Gunray felt the same. He was correct.
"I call for an immediate vote of no-confidence!" Gunray yelled, now pointing up at the lofty ceiling.
"Seconded," San Hill added, folding his arms.
Grievous cackled at that, beckoning his IG-100 Magnaguards over. "You Jedi-lovers may hold your traitorous vote, but only after you all are on Mustafar."
Nute Gunray grinned. "General Grievous, you forget that while you serve as Supreme Commander, the droids are ours." He withdrew a small remote from his sleeve and pressed a button. Immediately, all six of Grievous's Magnaguards shut down, sprawling to the floor with metallic clanks.
Argente sighed in relief. That was easier than I thought it would be. "Arrest him!" he yelled, gesturing to the B1 battle droids standing in the background.
Cackling madly, Grievous's arms seemed to split in two. In each hand the cyborg now held an ignited lightsaber. All at once, every battle droid in the room opened fire.
"No. No! NO!" Argente yelled, increasing desperation filling his voice by the second as Grievous's mechanical hands began to spin, his lightsabers turning into a whirling dervish of blue and green.
Deflected blasterfire returned in the general direction of the droids and Separatist leaders. Rune Haako collapsed backwards, taking a shot to the front of his neck. Something to Argente's right blew up, the blast sending him and the surviving delegates sprawling to the floor as flimsiplast, datacards, and pieces of durasteel chair rained down, B1 guards clattering to the floor in pieces.
Gasping in pain, Argente sat up, using his elbows for support. He looked straight in the direction of the explosion where there were now two smoking metal boots. A moment went by and the Koorivar had a stunning realization—Wat Tambor, his survival suit filled with highly pressurized methane, had exploded.
Overwhelmed by incoming fire, Grievous had now overturned a table and crouched behind it.
Now's our chance! Argente leapt to his feet, then grabbed San Hill's hand, helping the Muun up. Then both of their jaws went slack.
His armor steaming and pocked by blaster fire, General Grievous was now carrying the massive durasteel table above his head with two arms. "HA!" he shrieked triumphantly, breaking the table legs off. Now carrying just the table top in one arm, the cyborg twirled in place and hurled the table like a discus.
"No!"
It was the last word the Magistrate of the Corporate Alliance uttered. Less than a second later, the table top hit him at neck level, digging through his billowing scarf and decapitating him instantly. The much taller Muun standing behind him was hit at chest level and cut in two.