Chapter 2

Confusion

Hijado

The ground shook once more beneath the pounding barrage of Separatist artillery, forcing the advancing clones to once again duck to cover beneath the dusty and crumbling ruins of what had once been a town street. The shockwaves from the landing warheads knocked several clones off their feet, though fortunately none were injured.

"Dank ferric," Captain Char swore under his breath as he climbed back to his feet.

"Are you alright?" his green-skinned Jedi companion asked with concern as she extended her arm, bringing him back to his feet.

"Nothing major," Char assured her, pointing down the ruined and dusty cobblestone street "Best to keep moving."

Jedi Knight Nera Rho-Daru nodded in agreement and gestured to the remaining clones to keep moving forward. Carefully alert for Separatist booby traps or ambushes, the unit continued their advance. The sky split once more with the cracks of man-made thunder, but those strikes landed elsewhere and the clones continued pushing forward unabated. Nera jumped despite herself at the impacts. While she was three years into the war, Hijado was her and her battalions' first serious campaign, as well as her first campaign as a Jedi Knight.

A spike of a warning shot down Nera's spine as she sensed danger. Spinning quickly on the spot, Nera summoned the Force and shoved hard, launching a surprised clone into a pile of rubble just as the landmine detonated. Several clones were knocked to the ground, but once again casualties were avoided.

"Thanks, Commander, I would've been finished for sure!" the clone she saved nodded appreciatively as she helped him back to his feet.

"No problem soldier," Nera responded, forcing a slim smile as the anxiousness in her heart remained.

The clones hefted their blasters more carefully as they continued, sweeping the crumbling buildings on the street sides as well as the ground for more traps. Shaking his helmeted head, Char grumbled, "Blasted Seppies won't give ground for free. I'll take droids to these Hijadoans and their tricks any day."

Nera cocked her head but didn't reply to that, instead shoving her long and thick braid back over her shoulder. Since their deployment two days prior, the extent of the 734th clone battalion's combat experience on Hijado was thus far limited to the pounding artillery barrages, and the occasional airstrike and booby trap as they slowly swept through abandoned and ruined towns in the wake of the Separatist retreat.

The Hijadoans had declared for the Confederacy after the outbreak of hostilities on Geonosis three years earlier but had avoided seeing active fighting until the fall of Botajef three weeks ago. After a year-long siege that devastated that ecumenopolis, its factories and shipyards were back in Republic hands, and the Grand Army of the Republic was chasing the Separatists back up the Hydian Way towards the strongholds of Celanon and Serrenno.

Following her Knighting Ceremony on Coruscant just two months ago, Nera and her newly minted 734th Battalion were split off from her master, Raishian Makar's 23rd Division following their victory over the droids forces on Lantilles. Master Makar and the 23rd had been sent all the way across the galaxy to Shumavar, leaving her here with a Jedi Knight and naval admiral whom she had never met.

While the march forward across the burned-out charred forests and ruined towns of Hijado's northern continent was anxiety-inducing, Nera was secretly hoping that it remained that way for the length of her time there, since she was dreading combat on Hijado.

I really don't wanna kill anyone… Force, please don't make me kill anyone…

In her three years of combat, Nera had never fought against living beings, being spared the spiritual weight of fighting Separatist organic auxiliaries and instead facing only droids. Droids were easy. There was no shame in cutting them down by the masses, and in despising them for all of the clones that they killed. Living people though, like these Hijadoans, were another matter entirely.

They're allied with Dooku! They betrayed us!

And yet… they're just defending their homes…

Luckily, Nera and the 734th had not encountered any of them yet, the Hijadoans and their droid allies were in a steady retreat across the continent towards the capital city and last serious stronghold on the planet. They slowed the Republic down with endless artillery barrages and booby traps, leaving abandoned and ruined towns and land behind.

Buying time for their civilians to flee, or for reinforcements?

Nera was brought back from her thoughts as another barrage rattled the earth, knocking down one of the few stone buildings still standing at the end of the road in a blast of dust and debris. Nera covered her eyes as she and her clones were pelted with tiny rocks from the blast. Wiping grime from her eyes with a dirty hand, Nera continued the push.

"We're almost through, Commander" Char reported, "Shall I tell the armor they can enter?"

Nera paused before answering, looking around the ruined street carefully, knowing that anything she missed could lead to another needless death. Too many of those already.

"Are we confident in our sweeps?" Nera asked after a moment.

"This street is clear," Char answered, "The others cleared some booby traps without loss and are emerging on the other side now. It's as clear as it can be without jeopardizing the schedule."

Nera frowned at that. Char was a very by-the-books clone. The naval admiral had forwarded them a schedule, complete with required advances for each day to keep up with the other forces on the planet, and Char had taken it to heart. During their time in the 23rd, Char had been at times willing to make sacrifices for the books and had to be reigned in by Master Makar.

"Alright," Nera sighed after a moment, rubbing her head from the building stress, "Send them through."

Nera's clones were moving ahead as a scout force, sweeping mines and traps to protect the more vulnerable vehicles and massed formations that made up the rest of her force. Nera, Char, and the others emerged at the end of the street as another barrage pounded somewhere to the south. Outside of the city was the same view they had seen for the past hundred kilometers: flatland, and a burned forest on either side of a dusty dirt road, already holed from the constant shellings. Luckily the accuracy of the shellings was diminishing, likely due to the loss of a key sensor site off to the southwest. For the first few days, it had been practically raining shells on them and losses were heavy, but now the barrages were more sporadic and less accurate.

Nera sat down on what had once been a wall but was now a pile of brownish rubble as her clones secured a perimeter, ensuring that there were no Separatists lurking in the charred treeline. The Zeltron Jedi pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to even her breathing and relax as Master Makar had taught her numerous times, but found it impossible. Between the new responsibility of leading her own battalion as a newly minted Jedi Knight, the weight of the losses they had already suffered, and the prospect of killing Hijadoans lurking at the back of her mind.

"Commander Rho-Daru!" Char called from the entrance of an adjacent building where he had been busy setting up a mobile holotable as the tanks moved up, "The admiral wants a report!"

"Very well," Nera nodded, snapping back to the present as she climbed back to her feet and made a useless attempt to brush the dust off of her grimy leggings. She made her way into the shade of the ruined building, beneath a cracked and holed ceiling where the table had been set up, "Char, have the armor form a defensive line outside the town and set up a triage for the wounded somewhere with cover. Let the boys rest for a bit before we make the next push."

"Yes, Commander," Char nodded then hurried off to relay her orders.

As the table came online, Nera found herself looking at a map of the continent, complete with force depositions on both sides. To the South and the North, clone forces from the other legion were advancing well further than the 734th, pushing hard against the retreating Separatists. On her own line of scheduled advance, however, Nera saw an untouched Hijadoan town which appeared to be heavily fortified due to its spaceport. I'm going to have to take that. Oh Force, why can't these Hijadoans just surrender?

At the side of the table, a notification popped up, showing that the admiral was hailing her. Nera pressed a button on the side of the table and accepted the hail. The map faded away and was replaced by the glowing blue hologram of a Republic Navy officer with the bars of an admiral. The admiral was a human male with greying hair, a receding hairline, and a slim, angular face with a serious expression. His face was one of severe nobility and reminded Nera of the officers who had led the Republic navy during the Sith Wars millennia ago that she had seen in educational holovids growing up at the Temple.

"Knight Rho-Daru, a pleasure to meet at last. I offer congratulations on your recent Knighthood," the Admiral greeted respectfully, though with the slightest hint of superiority. As a Zeltron, Nera was very attuned to the emotions of others, made even stronger by her abilities as a Jedi. The admiral was obviously practiced in the presence of mindreaders and had his mental barriers up, blocking Nera's access that way, but she was still able to pick up on slight cues in his voice and body language.

"My apologies, Admiral," Nera bobbed her head modestly, keeping her thoughts from seeping into her speech, "I don't believe we have met."

"I am Admiral Wilhuff Tarkin," the man answered, this time with his feelings slightly more in the open, "As a new field commander, I thought it prudent to check your progress."

"We're progressing," Nera answered, wondering if the Admiral was trying to bait her or not. Despite his words and congratulations, Nera got the sense that this man did not like her.

Because I'm a Jedi or because I'm not a human?

She had seen both from Republic officers while with Master Makar. As a Karkarodon, he always got the worst of it, and as a near human, Nera was mostly spared. Human supremacy, while still rare, was becoming more common in the Republic's high command. The anti-Jedi sentiment was becoming much stronger, though, born from many officers disagreeing with the Jedi on how to best pursue the war.

"Not quickly enough, I needed you to be hitting Almorano an hour ago," Admiral Tarkin countered politely, but still with the hidden hostility. She doubted she would have sensed it if she wasn't a Zeltron.

"We're moving as quickly as we safely can, Admiral, but the artillery and traps are slowing us down. I can't move much faster without risking my men," Nera countered calmly, trying to follow Makar's teachings when dealing with men like this.

Nera, you must stay true to your principles, no matter what. During this awful war, you will meet many who hate you for nothing beyond what you are. Some of those voices will even be from our side. You must ignore them, and stay true to what you believe in. None can ever take that from you.

Nera found herself wishing dearly for her Master right then. Sure, the Council had deemed her fit for Knighthood, but she wasn't sure she was ready. A part of her wondered if her trials had been rushed to fill the losses the Jedi were suffering in the war.

"Move more quickly, Knight Rho-Daru," Tarkin snapped, the veneer of kindness fading as his face dipped into a frown, "Clones are born to die, it is the purpose they were bred for. They are a resource to be used like any other, and right now I need them to be used to take Almorano so we can push the rebels back and crush them in their capital. Every ship that leaves that spaceport is a dozen rebels escaping justice.

Nera frowned openly at that, though remained insecure in the presence of a superior officer who already had a negative opinion of her. Rolling her fingers gingerly, she responded, "Admiral, the intelligence reports say that those ships are being loaded with civilians, mostly women and children. The fighters are digging in to hold what ground they can."

"Jedi…" Tarkin sighed under his breath, though Nera could tell he meant for her to hear it, "Why can't you be more like your counterpart? He at least knows to do what must be done. Rebels are rebels all the same, Rho-Daru, you would do well to remember that."

Nera didn't know who her counterpart was, but she did not like what the Admiral was suggesting. In that moment, her principles outweighed her insecurity, as she narrowed her eyes at the Admiral, "I do not know what you're suggesting, Admiral Tarkin, but I will not treat civilians like enemy combatants. That goes against everything that the Order stands for."

"You Jedi and your principles," Tarkin's face appeared exasperated, "If we had real field commanders leading us, this war would've been won long ago! Continue your advance, Commander, and this time I want you on schedule. I have more important things to attend to."

With that, the holotable flashed out, leaving Nera alone in the shaded stone room as the map returned to the holotable. She stared for a long moment, eyes on Almorano. How many of us are going to die taking that stronghold… how many are we going to kill doing it?

She was being tasked with attacking a city filled with beings desperate to defend their homes, and buying time for their families to escape. Her orders and her principles were diametrically opposed, and she didn't know what to do. She wished her master was here with her to help guide her through this challenge. Above all else, Makar had taught her to remain true to her principles, it was the foundation of his teachings. But now she was being asked to do what, to her, felt akin to murder. Armed or not, Nera could not shake the feeling that these Hijadoans had done no wrong, and were just trying to defend what they cared about. And she was to kill them for it.

"Dank ferrik," Nera swore quietly under her breath, then paused as an idea dawned on her. I can save all those lives if I beat them to Almorano!

Nera seized her comlink off of her belt and keyed it to the Char's wavelength, "Captain!"

"What can I do for you, Commander?"

"How're the boys?"

"They're holding up," Char reported confidently, "Casualties have been light, and we've got a field hospital set up in a textiles shop."

"Have some of the men stay here to guard the hospital and have everyone else mount up," Nera ordered quickly, knowing time was already of the essence, "Your wish came true Char, we're getting back on schedule."

"I'm happy to hear it, Commander," the clone responded dutifully.

"Let's beat the buckets to Almorano and show the GAR what the 734th is made of!" Nera encouraged him, trying to mimic the rallying cry that Makar always inspired the men with.

It worked, as Char gave an excited laugh and replied, "You got it, Sir!"

Nera ordered the clone technicians to pack the holotable back up as she hurried back outside. The AT-TE column was emerging into the outskirts on the far side of the city. Nera hurried to the lead walker and climbed in to join Char. She made her way through the walker, however, and climbed out the top hatch to stand on top, knowing her presence atop the lead AT-TE would inspire the men.

As the walkers got moving and made the best speed to the northeast towards Almorano ahead of the setting sun, Nera readied herself to do what she had been dreading. She would have to kill people soon. But it would be for a greater cause, she would capture the city and treat the civilians appropriately, saving them for whatever consequence this Admiral Tarkin had in mind.

It'll be worth it, she tried to stave off her building anxiety, it has to be.

"Commander!" Nera was yanked right back to the dusty Hijado reality with an urgent shout from Captain Char, "The Seppies hit Coruscant! Chancellor Palpatine is dead!"

Coruscant

Far from the dusty battlefields of Hijado, a somber gathering was taking place in the Office of the Supreme Chancellor. Outside the majestic glass windows, the Coruscant skyline still burned as firefighters in speeders battle the blazes started from falling debris and stray turbolasers. In several places, buildings were toppled completely, whereas others stood with the ruined hulls of downed warships still jutting out of them.

The damage, however, was nothing compared to the psychological blow that the Coruscant Raid, as it was already being called, had done to the Republic. For months, the Republic News Network had been feeding the Republic systems words of the coming victory. Win after win filled the people of the Republic with hope, joy, and security as one Separatist stronghold after another fell to the Grand Army of the Republic.

Now that confidence was shaken down to its very core. For the entirety of the war, the people of the Republic had looked to their steadfast leader for guidance during the terrifying and troubling times. Palpatine was thought to be the safest individual in the galaxy, and to many, a sign of resistance and defiance against the Separatist villains. His death, along with the televised execution of Anakin Skywalker, the Hero Without Fear, had shattered that illusion, and no one was more shaken than the interim Chancellor, Mas Amedda, who had just been sworn in moments earlier, in a tense Senate meeting.

Gathered with him in the office that had for so long been Palpatine's were Senators Bail Organa and Riyo Chuchi of the Peace Party, and Kuati Senator Morto Vul, Leader of the Military Oversight Committee. Also present were Jedi Masters Yoda, Mace Windu, and Shaak Ti.

"This is a dark day for the Republic," Chancellor Amedda began somberly, bringing the meeting to session, "Perhaps the darkest since the start of the war."

"It seems Count Dooku is much less defeated than we might have thought," Mace Windu commented gravely, "If they can strike us here, this late in the war, then they are far from defeated."

"Guided by the Dark Side, the Separatists are," Yoda added, rubbing his chin pensively, "Far from finished, this terrible conflict is."

"We must pull the fleet back," Morto Vul demanded, "If Dooku can strike us here this easily, then we must assume he can appear elsewhere as well."

"Are you sure that is wise?" Mace Windu countered, "It has taken almost two years to push the Separatists this far back."

"This war must end," Mas Amedda growled, placing his hands on his desk and leaning forward, "We cannot allow this raid to offset our progress."

"We must defend the Core!" Morto Vul stood abruptly and shouted, then quickly collected himself, "Apologies, your Excellency, forgive my outburst," Mas Amedda nodded and Vul continued, "Our forces are overextended. We saw victory in our grasp and pushed hard, an act that Dooku punished us for. We must pull back and hold the Core and Mid Rim."

"That could lose us the war!" Mas Amedda countered as the rest of the room watched on, "We must push onward."

"What are your thoughts on this, Master Jedi?" Bail Organa inquired, turning to the three Jedi.

Mace Windu and Shaak Ti both deferred to Yoda, who turned his eyes to the burning skyline once more, lost in thought. After a moment, he said slowly, "Clouds all, the Dark Side does. Impossible to see, the future is."

"Well that's pleasantly unhelpful," Mas Amedda all but rolled his eyes, his disdain for the Order well known, "Others question your ability to lead our forces, Master Jedi. I would think it wise not to offer them further support."

Mace Windu narrowed his eyes at that, but before he could say anything, Morto Vul was speaking again, "It is not for the Chancellor or the Jedi to determine the fate of the Republic. Too long has the Senate been overruled in determining the interests of our constituents by the power vested unlawfully in the Office of the Supreme Chancellor. Palpatine was a wartime ruler, we all agreed on that, but now he is gone, and it is time for the people to once again voice their opinion on these matters."

"While I count him as a friend and confidante, I must agree that the power that Chancellor Palpatine amassed was worrying," Bail Organa agreed as Riyo Chuchi nodded along, "For too long we have been without the true democracy that we claim to cherish. I agree with Senator Vul, this should be put to vote."

"As do I," Senator Chuchi bobbed her head, "Let the voices of the people be heard once more."

"I'm not sure this is wise," Mace Windu commented, looking conflicted, "But I suppose this might be right just by the principle of the matter."

"If we overrule the people, are we any better than the despots we're fighting?" Shaak Ti agreed as well, leaving Mas Amedda looking shocked and betrayed.

"I was among Palpatine's closest confidantes!" Mas Amedda slammed his desk with an angry fist, "He assured me that victory was in our grasp! Let us fulfill his vision in his memory! Inaction now will only let Dooku back into the fight!"

"You may make your case to the Senate tomorrow, Chancellor," Senator Vul said respectfully, "But no longer will the Office of the Supreme Chancellor overrule the people."

"So be it, Senator," Mas Amedda sighed, "When the Separatist war machine comes back to life, let no one forget the decisions that are made in these coming days."

With that, Mas Amedda stood, signaling that the meeting was over. The rest of the room followed his cue as he walked them to the door. The three Senators went their separate ways as Yoda, Shaak Ti, and Mace Windu made to return to the Temple. As they walked slowly, keeping pace with the aging Grandmaster, they all stood in thought, contemplating the events of the previous days.

Shaak Ti was the first to break the silence as they made their way through the ornate hall towards their speeder outside, "Perhaps this is for the better. I wasn't the only one growing concerned with the amount of power that Chancellor Palpatine amassed."

"A blessing, or a curse, this decision may be," Yoda said mysteriously, "Block even my vision, the shroud of the Dark Side does."

"There is still the matter of Darth Sidious," Mace Windu said gravely as they emerged through a sliding door into the cool night air as the sound of speeders filled the sky, "If it is true that he has influence in the Senate, we could be offering him more power by retracting the emergency powers."

"Unless he had Palpatine in his web," Shaak said seriously as the three of them climbed into the open-topped speeder with Windu at the wheel.

"A worrying thought," Yoda answered as they pulled away from the Senate building.

"We would've sensed it," Mace Windu disagreed, "If he was in league with Sidious we would have known."

"Only if he was aware," Shaak Ti countered as the wind whistled through her montrals, "The Chancellor meets hundreds of people a week. Any one of them could be our Sith Lord."

"Hiding in plain sight, Darth Sidious is," Yoda agreed solemnly, "True deception, a master of he is."

The speeder was silent for a while as each Jedi contemplated their own thoughts as well as the Force, which had become anything but calm in the previous days. If anything, the Force was more turbulent than it ever had been before, as if some cataclysmic event had taken place that had completely shaken up the immaterial universe. Now the Force felt like a pool of water clouded completely with sand as if some humongous metaphorical foot had kicked it up and muddied it completely. Each Jedi arrived at the same conclusion, but it was Mace Windu who voiced it first.

"What of the Chosen One?" he asked slowly, though no one in the speeder was quick to respond, "He was prophesied to destroy the Sith and bring balance to the Force."

There was another long silence as each Jedi contemplated that. Eventually, Yoda answered grimly, "A prophecy misread, perhaps."

Mace Windu nodded his agreement, "Skywalker was a great loss for us. While he was arrogant and bullish, he had great potential as a Jedi. We will all mourn his passing."

"And Master Kenobi as well," Shaak Ti added, eyebrow raised at the two foremost Jedi seeming to have forgotten him.

"Alive, Kenobi is," Yoda corrected her gently, a smile slipping onto his wizened face for the first time in days, "A part to play, Master Kenobi still has."

Utapau

Clawed feet dug into the steel of the landing ramp as General Grievous swept out of his Sheathipede-Class shuttle, followed by two of his MagnaGuards. There was one thing, and one thing on his mind only, above even San Hill.

Sidious.

The mysterious Sith Lord leading the Confederacy of Independent Systems would need to be informed of Dooku's death, though a part of Grievous suspected that the Sith knew already. The man had a way with such things. Even so, Grievous intended to deliver his full report and figure out a path forward.

As he emerged from his shuttle, however, Grievous was met with an unexpected sight. Blue and white confetti filled the air, and the CIS hexagon was plastered on huge, billowing banners along the walls and ceiling of the hangar. When he appeared, a huge cheer erupted from the gathered organics, many of them naval personnel judging by their uniforms. In one corner, there was even an area filled with reporters and cameramen, it was fenced off and listed PRESS.

"Glory to the Confederacy!" a chorus of shouts erupted from the crowd.

"Lay low the tyrants!"

"Long live the General!"

A row of B-1 battle droids was holding the crowd back, but a camera crew broke out of the press area and managed to slip through. The male Neimoidian cameraman hurried along, trying to keep up with the female Twi'lek reporter, whose blue skin and lekku were painted with white stripes and CIS hexagons.

"General!" she shouted, making Grievous nearly stumble in surprise, shocked that a silly meatbag would be bold enough to approach him, "Please, General, just a moment of your time."

Grievous gave her a thin glare as he continued on his way, unperturbed, as the MagnaGuards blocked her path. Hunching his head, Grievous stalked quickly out of the hangar. The meatsacks could party for the victory if they wanted, but Grievous knew better than to keep the Sith Lord waiting. He had been given orders to contact Sidious as soon as he returned from the raid, and that was what he would do.

With a hacking cough, Grievous shoulder-checked a clueless B-1 out of his way and swept into the private chamber used for such meetings. Without pause, Grievous pressed the button and awaited Sidious' answer.

The seconds ticked by, and the room was silent, except for the low hum of the generators. Seconds turned into minutes, and Grievous began to worry. Sidious was many things, but he was never late.

Maybe he's angry about Dooku… a feeling of concern rattled Grievous' conscience, and he began pacing back and forth across the chamber. Dooku was more forgiving than Sidious, and he would surely treat Dooku's death as a failure. But the Chancellor and the Skywalker brat are dead, and Kenobi is our hostage… surely that trade is acceptable.

Minutes passed, and Grievous paced, becoming increasingly concerned. Maybe the Battle of Coruscant is interfering with his comms.

Grievous hated the idea of leaving Sidious a message, but there were things he needed to attend to. Without Count Dooku, managing the war would be his responsibility, and the war would not wait for the weary. With a sigh, Grievous pressed the record button and stooped into a bow.

"Lord Sidious," Grievous growled, "The Battle of Coruscant has gone as planned. The enemy is rattled, the Chancellor is dead, and that fool Skywalker will be a thorn in our sides no longer, but Dooku also died. He decided to fight the Jedi alone and was killed by his arrogance. Kenobi has been captured, and I'm holding onto him as a bargaining chip. I would kill him, but I thought you might have plans for him. I await your instruction on how to proceed, until then, I will do as I see fit. Grievous out."

On a whim, Grievous waited another five minutes after sending his message, thinking that perhaps Sidious would respond, but there was nothing. With a sigh, Grievous stomped out of the chamber with a series of coughs. If Sidious was going to miss a meeting, then he would have to wait, as Grievous had new business to attend to.

The greedy corporate executives had set up shop in one of the hangars, and without Dooku, it would be Grievous' job to whip them into line. Now that's a job I can do… honorless buzzards. Grievous paused briefly at that thought. Since when did he care about honor? Honor is for the weak, and he was anything but weak.

Grievous swept angrily into the hangar, trailed by two MagnaGuards, and his clawed footsteps clanging on the metal floor caused the executives to look up abruptly. Grievous came to a halt in front of them and stood up to his full height, towering over the cowering executives fearsomely.

"Congratulations on your victory, General," Shu Mai oozed. She sounded sincere enough, though Grievous knew better. Slippery vulture.

"It was a great victory, we watched you with utmost pride," Nute Gunray commended, managing to sound much less sincere than his fellow.

"I'm glad to see our investments put to use," San Hill said, earning a thin-eyed glare from Grievous. Careful now, Muun, I'd like nothing better than to wring your neck today!

"Listen up, whelps!" Grievous snapped, earning instant silence, "Yes we killed that frilly old fool Palpatine and his Jedi pets."

"And thus with all tyrants!" Wat Tambor commended zealously, standing tall with a closed fist over his chest, his metal arming clanging against the pressure suit he always wore. He's a true believer, at least.

"Yes, yes," Grievous nodded, then leaned forward to glare at the council, "Only one problem, one of you, is a backstabbing, duplicitous, underhanded, COWARD!"

The executives all looked surprised and looked between each other in fear and suspicion as Grievous continued, "Yes, that's right, one of you thought it would be wise to betray me. When I accepted this body, it was to take my revenge against the Jedi! My only condition was that my mind be left alone. One of you decided to go behind my back, and bury chips in my brain against my will! Know this, liar, we both know who you are. You'd better be grateful that I'm feeling forgiving today, and that I need your resources because otherwise, I would tear your head from your body, and crush it beneath my foot!"

All the executives were trembling now, and none could meet his eye. San Hill in particular was squirming and sweating uncomfortably, pulling at the collar of his shirt which was suddenly ill-fitted. That's what you deserve, sneaky Muun. You're lucky to be alive.

"In any case," Grievous rumbled, changing the subject and feeling a twinge of pleasure as all the executives let out small sighs of relief, "We have another problem: Count Dooku is dead."

That earned shock and surprise from the council, as it was certainly not the news they were expecting. Eyes widened as they all sucked a collective intake of breath. Finally, Gunray managed to splutter, "Dead?"

"Beheaded by Skywalker before I could intervene," Grievous snorted, "It seems the brat is able to be annoying even in death."

"So what now?" Passel Argente asked cautiously, "We had a careful arrangement with Count Dooku-"

"I am in charge," Grievous interrupted, glaring at the offending alien, "And you will give me your full support. This war is not over, and I will not tolerate the petty squabbling over resources that you're all used to with Dooku. I am not as forgiving as he was, and I will not tolerate dissent like he did."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves here," Shu Mai tried to moderate, "We-"

"How would you like to keep your brain in your head?" Grievous snapped, whipping his head around to glare at the female Gossam as his cape whirled menacingly behind him.

"We must be careful," Gunray said carefully, "Remember, the Trade Federation is not officially in support of the Confederacy. If we did, we'd have our assets seized by the Republic!"

"Then commit them fully to the Confederacy!" Wat Tambor countered zealously, "Skako and the Techno Union have been in full support of the CIS from the beginning, and you can expect our full support, General!"

"Geonosis is occupied," Poggle the Lesser grunted in Geonosian, "The Confederacy is our only hope. We are with you in full, General, in the hope that Geonosis can one day be liberated from the clutches of tyranny!"

"The Banking Clan will lend all the support it can to our new leader," San Hill tipped his head respectfully, steepling his fingers on the long table.

There was silence in the room for a moment, and already, Grievous' mind was churning. He had hoped his intimidation tactics would cow the slippery executives in line, but it had not been as effective as he had hoped. The Skakoan and Geonosian were going along, but mostly for personal reasons. The rest though… they would say they supported him but Grievous did not trust them. San Hill said he had his support as well, but Grievous knew better than to trust him after his revelations about his brain.

"Listen up, rats," Grievous growled menacingly, making eye contact with each executive, "You're committed to this war. Fully. If any one of you gets cold feet, then they can head off into a comfortable retirement. If any of you betray me again, then I will not be so forgiving. I need your resources, but I will only be pushed so far. If it comes to it, I will… dispose of you and find a more suitable replacement. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, General," the room echoed, all of them this time. We'll see in time which of you means that.

"We'll keep the arrangements as Dooku had them for now," Grievous growled, "But I will change them if necessary. This is your only warning, I am not as forgiving as Dooku was. News of the Count's death does not leave this room. And finally, if any of you deny me anything for the war effort, then they can expect their head to be crushed like melon into the floor. Dismissed, except for you, Viceroy."

The executives scurried out of the hangar as fast as their legs could carry them, except for Gunray, who remained trembling at the table. Shivering and short of breath, he exclaimed, "I promise, I was not the one who betrayed you, General! Please, I have done nothing, I am totally loyal and committed!"

"We'll see," Grievous barked doubtfully, "But I am not here to talk about that. Sidious."

"Ahh," Gunray nodded gingerly, now looking even more afraid.

"I haven't been able to contact him since the raid," Grievous growled in a low voice, "You and I are the last alive here that can contact him. Do you know any other ways of reaching him?"

"He always summoned me, not the other way around," Gunray replied, still looking fearful, "I never even saw him in person, only hologram!"

"Hmm," Grievous contemplated, I'm closer to him than you are, then, "He operated from Coruscant most times. Perhaps he's having issues with the fallout from the raid. If he reports anything to you, come to me."

"Yes, General!" Gunray bowed his head, slowly backing away from the table and eyeing the door, looking to make a run for it. Cowardly slime.

"And one more thing," Grievous growled, "I want all your recorded conversations with him, and any other information you have on him. And keep this to yourself. If you come through on this, then perhaps you'll be on a path to earning a sliver of my trust."

"Of course, General!" Gunray bowed deeply and quickly, losing his silly hat onto the floor.

"Go," Grievous snapped, as Gunray seized his hat and scurried out of the room as fast as his unathletic legs could carry him. Good riddance.

So now what happens?

Grievous stood alone in that hangar with only droids for company for a full minute as he comprehended the path forward. He was in charge, there was no denying it now, and if Sidious wasn't answering, then he was really in charge.

Finally, Grievous stomped back to his private quarters. They were bare and empty, just as he liked it. None of the clutter or nonsense that pathetic meatlings liked to have around them. Stripped, utilitarian, and expedient. Perfection.

The first thing Grievous did was check for a message from Sidious, which there was not. Well if I'm gonna be taking things over now… Grievous activated the holotable and redirected all of Dooku's mail to himself. He immediately regretted doing that, as he found a veritable mountain of unanswered messages awaiting a response.

Blasted paperwork, this is the work of droids and menials, not generals!

With a sigh, he began skimming through it, to see what would require his attention and what wouldn't. As he looked, he found the vast majority were inquiries stemming from Dooku's absence. People had noticed the Count was gone and were already asking about that. If he were anyone else, Grievous would scoff, but seeing how busy the Count evidently had been, a few days of silence would indeed be legitimate cause for concern.

I'll have to figure out what to do about that pretty soon.

Nevertheless, he sorted all the Dooku communiques into the trash category and then inspected the rest. Sluis Van was under siege, Mygeeto was still in the balance, the 327th was returning to Felucia… the Confederacy seemed to be under siege from all sides. Numerous systems were calling for help. Grievous opened one out of curiosity and found himself looking at a battered human recording from what seemed to be an open combat zone.

"Count Dooku, this is Governor Flenn, Entralla System!" the man paused briefly as something exploded nearby, "The Republic is hitting us hard, and we need support! If they break through us here, then they can hit Muunilist and cut off our forces at Mygeeto! My Lord, the soldiers are fighting hard, but we're running out of supplies. Our droid regiments have no replacement parts, and our food stores are running dry. We will die for the Confederacy, but if we don't get aid soon, then this world will fall!"

Grievous was about to mentally berate the governor for failure and weakness when he found himself hesitating. The men were giving the best they could and prepared to die a warrior's death, surely there was respect in that-

What am I thinking?! This is weakness, Dooku taught… well Dooku also lied to me and manipulated my brain. Perhaps Dooku's word isn't to be trusted.

Grievous briefly wondered whether the removal of the chips was making him feel and act differently. Still, he didn't feel any different. Grievous stowed those thoughts away and moved on to the task at hand. There was still a war to win.

I really am in charge.

Grievous pondered the thought briefly. It was the first time in his entire existence as General Grievous that that was true. No Count Dooku or Darth Sidious watching over him, at least at the moment. He could now prosecute the war any way he saw fit. Grievous found some amusement in that, at least. There had been many times when he disagreed with the Sith Lords on how to proceed, and often he had found himself correct in retrospect. He would suffer such scheming no longer.

One last time, he checked his personal comlink for any messages or summons from Lord Sidious. Still nothing. Without another thought, Grievous stomped out of his quarters and back towards his shuttle. The corporate morons were dealt with, Sidious had been contacted, and now it was time to return to the war effort, distractions aside.

Those Republic dogs will be reeling from the blow we dealt them, now we will punish them for it. They will regret the day they ever counted me out of this war…