Chapter 6

The Read Option

RSS Journey, Kashyyyk System

"I don't care!" Admiral Tachenka roared, slamming his fists on the holotable and silencing dissent for the moment, "I've been assigned to clean up this mess, and Force help me, I will. The first thing to be addressed is the incompetence that's hampered operations in this entire sector, so tell me Jedi, what happened?"

All eyes, both organic and holographic, shifted to a hologram on the far side of the table who looked cowed under the sudden unpleasant attention, to Tachenka's pleasure. Always a good day when the wizards squirm…

"There was a stealth ship," the Jedi reported slowly, "We only detected it when it fired up its engines to escape the atmosphere, and we lost it almost immediately."

"And you made no effort to engage?" Tachenka growled, left eye ticking slightly as he felt anger and contempt continuing to boil beneath the surface.

"There was no way we could!" the Jedi responded passionately, "Our instruments-"

"No, no, you made no effort to," Tachenka snapped, pointing an accusing finger across the holotable, "You could have attempted to pursue, or at least close distance to try to assist your instruments! Nine hells, you could have even fired on them to spook them into revealing themselves!"

"My duty-"

"Is to win the war," Tachenka interrupted as the other officers and Jedi looked on passively, "Admiral Gortheon lost his posting because he listened to you and your moronic Order, and tolerated your numerous shortcomings. Take your clones to the surface, Knight…" Tachenka squinted to read the holographic letters below her floating form, "...Quorl. I will tolerate your incompetence in orbit no longer. Take this as a lesson, Jedi. You're a human, not an automaton or one of the other lesser species. Learn to think like it. Dismissed."

The Jedi didn't stick around to debate, and her hologram winked out, leaving Tachenka with the other officers, as well as two other Jedi, the human male and the Mirialian female who was the second in command of this entire operation.

"You are Knight Quorl's superior, are you not?" Tachenka addressed the human Jedi, Knight Mallio, with a tired sigh.

"By seniority only," Mallio admitted, straightening his robes with a tug, "We are equal in rank, but experience makes her my subordinate, should our interests clash."

"See to it that she learns how to function on a battlefield," Tachenka looked away and gazed out the viewport at the numerous warships floating in the void, "I don't know anything about her record, but given her failure today, I don't expect I'd be impressed. If you can spare it, keep an eye on her, and make sure you tell her if she screws up again."

"I'll do what I can," Mallio nodded with a flat expression.

"Good," Tachenka adjusted his cap and turned back to face the Jedi, "Her incompetency is unbecoming of our race, especially of a member representing us in such an important position."

Mallio cocked an eyebrow at that and earned a degree of ire from Tachenka. What a waste…

"Focus on the task at hand, Admiral," the endlessly calm and patient Mirialian suggested, as Tachenka turned to glare at her.

"Do not lecture me, alien" Tachenka sneered, narrowing his eyes at the Mirialian, who to her credit, matched his eyes with a collected and even expression, "We have a war to win here, and thus far your Order has done an excellent job squabbling our chances of victory. Need I not remind you that Chancellor Palpatine was under the protection of your Order when he was kidnapped and subsequently murdered?"

"A mistake for which our Order has greatly suffered as well," the Jedi Unduli replied neutrally, "But such things are not to be dwelled on presently. As you said, Admiral, we have a war to win here."

"Indeed," Tachenka growled bitterly, "We do indeed, and the stealth ship's appearance is a strong harbinger of what is to come. Kashyyyk is going to get hit."

Kashyyyk

While the Republic high command bickered in orbit, eighty-four United States Army Pathfinders plummetted through the atmosphere of the jungle planet, using their bodies to make navigational corrections as they descended. Quickly, the Pathfinders split apart and used their navigational equipment to guide each squad towards their landing area.

Making a jump into a forested world was very risky and required the utmost precision from each operator, but they were not the Army's elite for nothing. The orbital insertion was the ultimate HALO jump, but each team opened their chutes just above the treeline and descended down to the ground. To make the jump easier, each unit was aimed at a small clearing in the forestry, which reduced the risk of becoming tangled in the trees. To that end, each operator was able to make landfall without a hitch.

The insertion was also simplified in that the Republic had not successfully deduced what the infiltrator had been doing in Kashyyyk's orbit. While on high alert for possible fleet action, the clones were not paying close attention to what was happening within the atmosphere, and due to insurrectionist activities from the Wookie Separatist cells, the sensors that were operating were pointing downward, not upward. The result was a textbook aerial insertion to fourteen key locations in the vicinity of Kachirho. Once ground side, the Pathfinders rolled up and hid their chutes, before moving forward with their missions.

Half of the squads made contact at hastily prearranged sites with the Kashyyyk Liberation Front, linking up with the Wookies there to begin organizing the insurrectionists to be in place to assist when the fighting started. There, they would act as liaisons to the Wookie force, helping them organize ambushes, sabotages, and diversions during and immediately before the invasion so that the clones would be caught on their back foot when the fighting started.

Of the remaining dozen squads, three of them landed on three mountain tops around Kachirho. They had the easiest job. After securing the area, all these Pathfinders had to do was lay low and wait for the invasion to come, because they were armed with some of the most dangerous and effective weapons in the UNS arsenal: cameras, and laser designators. Their role was twofold, in the leadup to the attacks, they would use powerful cameras to mark key sites and track troop movements, then upload it in a stream of inconspicuous and heavily encrypted data from a small man-portable radio. This data would piggyback on the Republic's own data streams and be picked up by I-237 lurking in the Outer System and then be relayed back to the UNS proper.

Once the fighting started, though, these three squads had a second duty: they would point their laser designators at targets all across Kachirho. These tiny, pinpoint lasers would nonetheless be picked up by UNS missiles, using the laser to guide them precisely into their target. This would allow the UNS to conduct precision air strikes while launching their munitions far behind the friendly lines, and without risking vulnerable AWACS and radar aircraft. Inserting forward air controllers behind enemy lines was a standard procedure in the as of yet untested UNS planetary invasion doctrine, and would be tested as a concept in the days to come.

The remaining nine squads also linked up with the KLF but were tasked with more risky and direct missions. Three squads were smuggled into Kachirho proper by KLF insurrectionists, then placed charges at hidden locations at the base of three huge Wroshyr trees. Not wanting to risk the potential hiccups of remote detonations, the charges were rigged with hardwired timers. While lower tech, the direct clockwork made the explosives very robust and reliable. The timers were set to detonate thirty minutes after the initial landings were scheduled to take place. Their detonations would be the signal for the KLF to begin their attacks.

The last six squads moved away from the heavily populated trees and dwellings of Kachirho and risked the wilder and more dangerous forests. These squads spent over a day trekking through the forest, dodging Republic patrols as well as local predators to finally set up camp near several huge clearings. Their assignment was to scout and secure the landing zones to ensure that they were clear for the Butterflies when the UNS arrived. Each clearing was a huge area, several miles in diameter, and moderately cratered and littered with burn scars and battle debris from earlier fighting. The Pathfinders spent the next day walking the clearings to make sure they would be suitable for the landing troops, then spent the remaining days scouting the surrounding area to make sure that the Republic would not be prepared to launch an immediate counterattack on the beachheads once they were established.

For such a complicated plan, it went off mostly without a hitch. Equipment malfunctioned and minor operations with the KLF were foiled, but the landing sites were secured, the forward air controllers were in place, and the KLF was mobilized. Most importantly, the Republic commanders planetside remained blissfully unaware of what was happening around them, attributing the KLF to the minor fighting that had taken place when interdiction efforts were thwarted. The UNS had counted on this as it was a perfectly reasonable assumption since KLF-Republic action had happened on and off since the war started.

That was not to say that the Republic was either ignorant or inactive, though. While unaware of what was happening around Kachirho, the Republic was nevertheless preparing for the fighting to start. They were completely aware that a UNS attack was a matter of 'when' not 'if'. As a result, the defense fleet had grown by fifty percent, and the defenses had been buffed up by the timely arrival of another clone division, though it lacked a Jedi.

Along Kachirho Beach, trenches, tank traps, and redoubts were dug, mines were laid, and clone armored units and stationary weapons were entrenched. In the mighty Wroshyr trees that made up Kachirho City proper, anti-air weapons, siege turrets, and radars were set up. From the Forward Operation Center, Jedi Master Luminara Unduli, Chieftain Tarful, and Commander Gree were perfectly set up to direct the coming fighting. While the Republic did not know exactly how the invasion would take place, they correctly guessed that the best path for the assault on Kachirho would come from the water, and placed the bulk of their forces and defenses to thwart that possibility. Whether it would be enough remained to be seen.

Utapau

Most of the leading members of the CIS High Council met in an opulent, colorful, and majestic room that contrasted heavily with the spirits of the beings within. They had been moved from the makeshift hangar where they had met with Grievous earlier, to a more comfortable location more suitable for beings of their status.

At the center of the table was a map of the galaxy showing Republic, UNS, and CIS territories, as well as forces depositions and current fighting. On the far wall was a screen with the Holofeed running silently but with subtitles, as a Twi'lek reporter covered the recent UNS military activity along the Lantillian Hyperlane Route.

Nearly all of the main corporate heads were gathered together to discuss matters of the utmost importance. Noticeably absent were Archduke Poggle the Lesser and Wat Tambor of the Techno Union. The issue on hand for the day: the future of the Confederacy following the death of Count Dooku, the UNS, and the issue of General Grievous.

Leaning forward from her heavily decorated chair of Gold and Jade, Shu Mai of the Commerce Guild was the first to break the uneasy silence, "We stand today at a precipice. Count Dooku's death has delivered a weighty blow against us, but also an unprecedented opportunity."

"I must advise caution!" Nute Gunray spoke up quickly, earning him glances from around the rectangular table."

"Caution is already to the wind," San Hill countered firmly, gesturing to the Holofeed with his long and bony fingers, "The Republic has forced Sol's hand, and forced things into motion."

"The Solians will align themselves with us," Passel Argente of the Corporate Alliance growled, "We have maintained tight relations with them from long before the war."

"Proxima Heavy Industries has been our leading neutral trading partner since the war started," Po Nudo of the Hyper-Communications Cartel agreed.

"Perhaps to you," Tikkes of the Quarren Isolation League snapped, "Mine is not the only conglomerate harmed by their trading actions. We're better off without them."

"Your financial woes are irrelevant to us," Argente snapped, glaring at the Quarren angrily, "If the Republic reapplies pressure and breaks through the current sieges, we're finished. Mon Cala is in enemy hands under their traitor prince, Geonosis is lost, and Cato Neimoidia and Mygeeto are in the balance."

"Regardless of your opinions of the General, we cannot deny that the Coruscant Raid has given us our first big break since the loss of Geonosis," Nute Gunray spoke up again, looking around the table for support, "This could be our best chance of victory since that loss. We'd be fools to squander it."

"You only say that because they are your largest buyer," Tikkes shot back, "How much have you made on naval assets bought and built under lease, Viceroy?"

"Enough!" Shu Mai shouted, slamming a hand onto the table, and earning silence in the room as all eyes shifted over to her. Despite her diminutive stature, Shu Mai as the head of the most powerful organization present was given the warranted respect. After a moment, she went on with a hiss, "The UNS is not the issue at hand today. We have mixed feelings about the Solians, but their actions have given us vital breathing room from recent Republic offenses," she gestured to the galactic map to support her statement, "The issue today concerns the future of the CIS with Dooku gone."

There was a long pause as the room fell into heavy silence once again. Each of the councilors looked around at each other as if daring someone to speak first. They were all thinking it, they all knew that, but none were willing to put their thoughts into words for the weight and risk that such things carried. They all knew that should things not go their way, someone would be scapegoated as the ring leader, it would probably be the one who spoke first.

In the end, it was the Muun who broke the uneasy silence, his normally diplomatic and slippery voice more tense than usual, "Something must be done about General Grievous."

Once more, an uncomfortable silence fell, with the only sounds being the soft trickle of water from a decorative Gold fountain along one of the walls. After a moment, Argente spoke with an angry growl, "I was under the impression that we had that monster under control!"

"He figured it out," Shu Mai responded evenly, "He told us as much before leaving for the capital, and with Dooku gone, there is no one that can hold his leash."

"He is a mad dog who must be put down!" San Hill shouted with uncharacteristic intensity, earning an inquisitive look from Gunray. With the words finally out in the air, the room again fell into silence, as Gunray continued to eye San Hill. The Muun was looking around more quickly now, likely realizing that his life depended on how the others responded. Gunray eyed the room and weighed his options. After a tense moment, he made up his mind.

"We need to dispose of the General, and as quickly as possible," Gunray said firmly, "The Trade Federation stands with the Banking Clan on this matter."

"The Corporate Alliance does as well," Shu Mai agreed, appearing glad that the room came to this conclusion.

Po Nudo, Tikkes, and the other remaining councilors added their solemn agreements as well, with each of them well aware of the risk they were taking. The room fell into silence once more as all eyes turned to a reluctant-looking Passel Argente.

After a moment, the Koorivar nodded reluctantly, "I'm loathe to take such a risk while the war stands at such a critical moment, but it seems my mind has been made up for me. I just plead that we don't mess this up. We all know the consequences of failure."

"We must act quickly," Shu Mai responded as the feeling in the room changed immediately, "This could be our only chance. Grievous already has brought Tambor and Poggle to his side, and the Solians remain a wild card."

"We must eliminate Grievous before he can negotiate with them," Po Nudo said firmly, "Their arrival introduces too many variables into the equation."

"He is going to be meeting with Congress and addressing the Confederacy before meeting with the Solian delegation," Gunray spoke up, detecting an opportunity, "We should make our move then. We can seize the capital building, kill Grievous, and conveniently corral the senators there."

"That'll help us keep things quiet, minimize damage, and smoothen our takeover in time to meet the delegation," San Hill agreed vehemently.

"No," Argente interjected urgently, "We must do this more quietly! The war stands in the balance, attacking our own capital could plunge us into a civil war, and before you know it there'll be clones landing on Raxus!"

"Escalation is a risk," Tikkes agreed, "Though perhaps there are other… alternatives."

The room all turned their eyes to the Quarren, curious at what he was getting at. After a moment, Shu Mai gestured for him to continue.

"How many of us are actually better off after this war?" Tikkes asked slowly, testing the waters cautiously.

There was another silence as the room considered his statement. After a moment, Shu Mai spoke, "What're you suggesting?" Tikkes hesitated, but Shu Mai gave a small laugh and gestured for him to continue, "You make speak freely, we've all already spoken treason here today."

"My coffers are nearly empty," Tikkes said slowly, eyeing the room with each word, "My world is under Republic rule. My armies are depleted and the demand for my stocks and bonds are both down. My profit margins are slim if existent and my savings are all almost completely expended. This war has bankrupted me, and as it stands, I would be open to cutting my losses."

"You mean making peace with the Republic," Argente said slowly. It was a statement, not a question.

"I do," Tikkes affirmed, more confidently this time, "Tell me, are any of you better off, three years into this venture?"

"I am expended," Argente admitted, "Koorivar is behind Republic lines. I have lost an immense amount of wealth, and seen my clan's legacy shattered. But what choice is there?"

"I admit that this has been a bad investment," Shu Mai agreed, "We have all sacrificed much for this venture, and where is the grand power and riches that Count Dooku promised?"

"Count Dooku is dead," Argente growled, "Our hopes to see those promises fulfilled died with him, Grievous made that much clear."

"Perhaps, Grievous is the answer," San Hill offered slowly, as the attention turned to him once more. A smile slid across his face as he went on, "Count Dooku and Grievous are both villainized heavily in Republic propaganda. If we use them as scapegoats, perhaps even bargaining chips, we could see ourselves escape this war relatively unscathed."

"Exactly," Tikkes nodded, "If we were to capture Grievous, we could make peace with the Republic. Surely they would accept a conditional surrender if that avoided another year of fighting. They're exhausted, and with Palpatine dead they're shaken. We could turn him over, and even throw in Tambor and Poggle too. Declare Dooku and all of them the ringleaders, even say they coerced us into it. Force knows there's some truth to that."

"If this is the case, we stick to the original plan." Shu Mai stated, "We move against Grievous and Congress together, seize the capital building, and capture the General and senators together. Then we send a message to the galaxy and offer the Republic our terms."

"What of the Solians?" Po Nudo inquired.

"What of them?" Tikkes hissed, "They know they can't stand against the Republic alone. If they're smart they'll surrender too, maybe if we're lucky they'll even come to us for help."

"So it's decided, then," Argente growled, "We're going to topple to Confederacy, capture the General, and end the war?"

"It's our best hope," San Hill offered his support, "To recoup our losses and keep what we still have to lose."

Gunray watched the proceedings thoughtfully, keeping himself neutral as best he could, "This comes with great risk. If we fail, it'll be our heads."

"If we don't try, they'll come for our heads sooner or later anyway," Po Nudo replied, "Whether it's Grievous or the Republic, this is our best chance."

"Very well," Gunray cemented his decision, "Then I agree as well."

CNS The Money Line, Utapau Lower Orbit, Utapau System

The thick bulkheads slid open to allow the Viceroy of the Trade Federation to enter the bridge of his flagship, as the aging Neimoidian had brief flashbacks to a Jedi lightsaber melting through his door. The organics on the bridge all turned their eyes to him as he strode to the Neimoidian in naval garb at the center of the bridge.

"Greetings, Viceroy" Admiral Truk bobbed his head, though unable to conceal a look of surprise, "My apologies, we weren't expecting you."

"My departure from the planet has been kept under wraps for now," Gunray responded seriously, "There's been a development."

Truk nodded understandingly and pressed a button on the bridge keypad. In response, a transparent wall descended from the ceiling, surrounding Gunray and Truk, and separating them from the rest of the bridge. It was a newer retrofit for Lucrehulks that were serving as command ships, as a way to protect the communication of sensitive information without forcing the commanding officer to leave the bridge.

"I just left a meeting of the other Confederate councilors," Gunray explained urgently, "They've come to a decision that will be the death of us. They want to make peace with the Republic!"

Truk was unable to conceal his surprise at that, wide eyes widening even further before quickly collecting himself, "How do they mean to accomplish that? Surely the Republic will never accept their demands! Or are they so removed that they forgot we're losing this war."

"The information I tell you does not leave this room," Gunray hissed quietly, "Count Dooku is dead. He was struck down by Skywalker aboard Invisible Hand during the raid."

Truk once again was unable to conceal his surprise, "Then we are lost! Without Dooku, who is there to lead us? I mean no offense, Viceroy, but I don't foresee you and your councilors agreeing on a replacement, and none of you are experienced enough as war leaders," a look of understanding dawned on the veteran admiral, "Ah… Grievous is in charge."

"And they don't like it," Gunray explained, "And to be fair, I don't either. Were circumstances different, I might support them, but alas they are not so here we are."

"They're going to launch a coup against Grievous and then try to sue for peace," Admiral Truk growled looking suddenly angry, "Corporate fools, do you all really think they'll accept, after all that we've done?"

"They intend to offer Grievous up as a bargaining chip," Gunray elaborated, "Blame Dooku and Grievous and offer peace. They mean to capitalize on war weariness."

"And what of all of the rest of us?" Truk demanded, "Are we scapegoated and thrown to the nexu?"

"We are in the same situation," Gunray sighed, normally he would have had no qualms about scapegoating his officers for his own gain, but today their interests aligned, "While the others might hope for a chance of avoiding major repercussions for the war, the same cannot be said for me."

Gunray sighed and adjusted his ornate cap before continuing, "The Republic will never accept my surrender. They remember the botched Naboo blockade and invasion years ago, and they remember me calling for the wretch Amidala's head on Geonosis. Look at their propaganda! I'm always the face they use to represent the CIS corporate backbone!"

Flustered, Gunray, typed quickly on the command table, pulling up several examples from the Holonet. Demeaning and even racist cartoon caricatures of himself stared back at him, villainizing the Trade Federation, the Confederacy, and even the entire Neimoidian race, and encouraging good Republic citizens to back the clone army. Support Our Boys in White!

"If they throw all of you to the nexu, I'll be right there with you," Gunray sighed, regaining his composure, "As much as it pains me to say, Grievous is our best chance."

"Then I will inform Admiral Welline at once!" Truk shouted, lifting a finger to the air, "He is one of Grievous' Confederate High Command. He's always been one of our more patriotic officers, often more Confederacy than Trade Federation, he'll put an end to this nonsense."

"No," Gunray said firmly, "We don't know who else on the High Command we can trust. We must go to Grievous himself, and we must be very careful, the others have already turned on Wat Tambor and Poggle the Lesser, though they don't know it yet. They can always turn on us as well. And I have given us an advantage: they think we are with them."

Truk's face broke into a thin and malevolent smile Gunray explained their plan. When he concluded, the aged admiral's smile widened as he growled unpleasantly, "A good old triple cross, the Neimoidian classic. They'll never know what hit them."

Gunray smiled back, gesturing to the holotable, "Hail Grievous."

Invisible Hand, Hyperspace en route to Raxus System

Alone in his quarters adjacent to the bridge of his battered flagship, General Grievous paced angrily, clawed feet slamming into the deck with a fury that matched the same one that lingered ever-present in his beating heart. He had known this was coming. He had informed his High Command of as much when he had last met with them mere hours earlier.

But he had not expected the fools to make their move so soon. It was a bad time, maybe even the worst time. While the Republic reeled, the Confederacy desperately needed to do two things: retake the initiative in key sectors, and lick their own wounds. Fighting a civil war would lose everything that the Coruscant Raid had handed them. Grievous growled and slammed a clawed fist sideways into the durasteel wall, leaving a dent as he continued to stalk back and forth, cape billowing behind him.

Fools! Idiots, all of them!

The bastards were fearing for their own skins, worrying what Grievous in charge would mean for them. Of course, Grievous had always intended on disposing of them since their penny-pinching had hampered his ability to make war for years now, but that did not necessarily mean he would kill them, or even seize their enormous fortunes. When the time had come, all they would have had to do was step down and stay out of his way.

But of course, the morons dug their own graves…

At least that slime Gunray had had the foresight to see the writing on the wall. The disgusting alien had always had a knack for saving his own skin, and he at least was wise enough to know the Republic dogs would eat him alive for his sins before they ever offered him anything resembling asylum. Grievous gave a bitter laugh at that before collapsing into another coughing fit.

In that, I suppose we're the same.

So Gunray had told Grievous what the other Corporate heads had in mind, and Gunray's own plan to foil them. He didn't like it. For one, he had to follow the slime's plan instead of his own, and for two, he had to trust that the slippery Neimoidian, infamous for their backstabbing tendencies, and for three, it meant that he would have to postpone fulfilling his long-standing dream of crushing the fool beneath his clawed foot.

Of course, I could anyway… no. He risked himself to save me and to save his nation, self-interest or not, honor commands that I respect his sacrifice…

Honor again?! Bahhh! By the bleeding stars, what is wrong with me?!

A flash of something appeared in his mind. He was standing on a ramshackle platform in some long-lost jungle world, only he was flesh rather than steel. An anachronistic polearm was raised high above his head as warriors wrapped completely in cloth with masks like his own shouted his name.

Qymaen. I am Qymaen.

That was the name they were shouting. That was his name. That had been his name once, long ago, in a time he could not remember. This must be Kaleesh. Grievous new the world from Dooku's teachings. He knew that is where he came from, and what he had once been. He even had a bust of his old armor, which he turned and stared at where it hung on the far side of the room, along with his captured lightsabers and Padawan braids. They were his only decorations. They used to be in his secret lair before the blasted Jedi had found it and forced him to relocate.

They even killed Gor! The barbarians will pay for what they've done, such is my eternal calling…

Grievous again paused his pacing and tilted his head at his strange language. He never spoke like that… or perhaps he hadn't for a long time. He had expected his mind to clear when the chips were removed from his head, but in reality, things had just become more confusing. One thing was very clear, however, his hate for the Jedi went back much further than the shuttle bombing. He didn't know what they did, but the feeling was there. It had sprung into his mind when he had thought of Gor. He had declared his eternal vendetta against them long before meeting Dooku and becoming the monster he was now.

I will make them pay… until they are wiped from the universe or until my wretched heart finally stops, I will make them all pay.

Grievous' personal holotable beeped suddenly, pulling Grievous back to the real world. He shook himself in brief annoyance at allowing himself to become distracted by such useless pondering, especially at such a critical moment. Nevertheless, his curiosity remained. He promised himself that he would do more exploring when he had the time, but that time was not now.

Approaching his table, he saw that he had received several private comms. Currently, Admiral Travossk was hailing him, and he had received ultra-encrypted typed messages from Admirals Tyberos, Nera, Altray, Welline, and several others from his High Command. They all warned him of the coming treachery from their corporate masters and asked for instructions.

Loyalty is its own reward… but I'll make it worth their while, and guarantee that treachery never crosses their mind ever again.

With a press of a button, he accepted Travossk's hail, leaning forward with a hacking cough, Grievous barked, "What do you need, lizard man?"

Travossk ignored the jab, and hissed with narrowed eyes, "I bring important news, General. I have received orders from the Commerce Guild, to abandon the current theatre and redeploy to Raxus. Though they did not say why, I have my suspicions. I fear the companies may be making their move against you."

Grievous nodded and growled back, "I have already been informed," he sighed, a sliver of his exhaustion from the seemingly endless series of debacles he was dealing with slipping through, "You will be rewarded for your loyalty. What is the state of the fighting?"

A grin slid across Travossk's reptilian face, "I have routed them completely, their fleet is broken. The survivors scattered and reorganized at Botajef, abandoning the bulk of their ground units. They are not numerous enough to mount any serious threat. My armies have made their landings and the fighting has begun. We have the numbers, they will not stand against us. I will have the world by the end of the week at the latest."

"Your fleet will be needed before then," Grievous growled, "Remain where you are, I'm calling the High Command to an emergency meeting."

A few minutes later, after the summons was sent out, Grievous was again standing before his council of war leaders. After making sure they were all alone, he called the meeting to session. With a barking cough, Grievous began, "You are all here because you made the right decision, and for your loyalty, you will all be rewarded."

The admirals all looked on curiously at that, the slimy Neimoidian Welline especially interested, while the Karkarodon Tyberos stared flatly and emotionlessly as ever.

"What that is will be discussed later, but it will be worth your while," Grievous went on, clawed hands clasped behind his back, "There are more important things we need to do first. You all received orders to Raxus?"

They all nodded as Grievous shook his head angrily, "That puts us in a difficult position. Your corporate masters want to end this war."

"Do they have no heart for the blood we have spilled and sacrifices we have for this cause!" Welline demanded passionately, again with uncharacteristic enthusiasm for a Neimoidian. His claim led to an outcry among the admirals, which Grievous silenced with a raised hand.

"They want to sell us all out to save their mongrel hides," Grievous hissed, reptilian eyes narrowed, "They want to betray us for their gain, and to end the war to save themselves. This will not stand."

"What would you have us to, General?" the Emberlener, Nera, asked, as all eyes shifted to him.

"There is already a plan in motion," Grievous explained, "Though I would like nothing more than to squash him like the bug he is, Viceroy Gunray chose to remain loyal, and has betrayed the rest of the council without their knowledge. Wat Tambor and Poggle the Lesser remained loyal as well. While I am loathe to trust a slippery fiend like Gunray, the zealot Tambor is more reliable, and besides, what choice do we have? If I pull your fleets back for support, not only will you be too late, and not only will the councilors sense danger, but the Republic would strike back at the open worlds. We have no choice but to trust Gunray."

And so Grievous detailed to them the plan that was set in place, which they all appreciated, for its effectiveness, if not for its simplicity. Such a complex plan left much to go wrong, but the one Gunray concocted had been the best they could do.

"I don't like it," Welline, however, broke from the others, "General, if you fall, we are lost. Who will lead us then?"

"I will not name a successor," Grievous hissed with narrowed eyes, "I am learning that as long as I am in charge, others will seek to get rid of me. I do not trust any of you that much, and I will not give anyone further motivation. If I die, there will be a civil war and we will collapse, so you lot better pray to the stars that I don't die."

Welline was not satisfied but nonetheless fell silent. Grievous fell into another coughing fit, then moved on, "We can't risk losing the initiative. Report to your corporate masters and tell them that you are obeying orders, but do not make any move. Continue your operations. When the fighting happens on Raxus, the galaxy will know, and we cannot allow the Republic to sense weakness."

"The new Chancellor is a weak man," Admiral Nera agreed, "Our intelligence matches our field reports in that regard. He is terrified from the raid, and from the defeat that the Solians just delivered to them. Our spies say that they could have struck again and broken through the Solians on Ursa, but the scared fool chose inaction.

"We can scare him into further inaction," Travossk nodded understandingly.

"Exactly," Grievous growled, swishing his cloak behind his back, "Continue your attacks as we discussed earlier. When this mess is over with, and the corporations have been crushed, I will change things. No longer will you have to report to sickly fools with no taste for battle. When I take official command of the Confederacy, you will all be unleashed on the Republic scum, and there will be no idiots holding you back."

That proclamation drew a great deal of cheers from the admirals, and after a few more niceties were sorted out, the meeting came to a close. As the room settled back into its usual darkness, Grievous paused, pondering the things to come as Invisible Hand hurtled through Hyperspace.