Greetings, everybody.

Welcome to this my second Star Wars Fanfiction.

As before this story will primarily revolve around General Grievous, but will explore his relationship with what would become other key Separatist figures. I will also demonstrate my take on the origins of one of the deadliest war machines ever to appear in the Star Wars Universe. Most importantly it will focus on the bitterness and rivalry that developed between the Kaleesh Warlord and the Neimoidian business man. This story is purely of my own design but draws on elements and locations from the expanded universe, including the Darth Bane trilogy.

Setting: This one shot story is set between the end of the Naboo crisis, and the instigation of the Clone Wars. In this story Grievous is still a Kaleesh but has already taken up the title that will one day become so infamous. This story can be considered a prequel to my original story: Prove your Worth.

Summary: Why does Viceroy Nute Gunray of the Trade Federation hate the cybernetic General Grievous, a man who is supposed to be his ally, so much? The answer lies in an incident which occurred some time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, in a time before Grievous even became a cyborg. It is a tale of greed, corruption, and a game of chance, which ultimately carried over into a life time of hatred.

This story is based on those events.

Rating: This story is rated T for Teen. Be warned this story contains mild violence, makes reference to gambling, drinks and narcotics. There will also be some implications of sexual encounters.

Disclaimer: As always I do not own Star Wars or any of its associated characters / locations / quotes. These belong to their respective owners.

"Safe?! Ha, Chancellor Palpatine managed to escape your grip General. Without Count Dooku, I have doubts about your ability to keep us safe!"

"Be thankful Viceroy, that you have not found yourself in my grip!"

What would be Nute Gunray and General Grievous' final exchange.

Gunray's disposition

The Kaleesh warrior stood rigid and to attention, arms folded across his barreled chest. His golden eyes sharp and focused, scoured every inch of the entertainment facility, watching for signs of trouble. Unable to spot anything that might otherwise concern him, he simply groaned in exasperation. Three hours in, and he was sick of this job, tired of all this over caution and seemingly endless waiting. Then again he probably wouldn't have minded, but for the simple fact that all three of those hours revolved around his standing outside this solitary doorway, on the lower most levels of this gaming facility, whilst his employers dabbled in politics, financial gain and other trade exploits with potential clients and financiers in their own lavish private quarters.

Compared to most of the other exploits that he was randomly sent on his instructions regarding this particular assignment had been relatively standard. He was to bar this entrance / exit way and make sure that none of the other patrons or staff members interrupted the private gatherings / exploits. This was perhaps as great an indicator as any that most of the deals were shady, but Grievous did not care. His was legitimate, honest work and at the end of the day that was all that mattered.

So far nothing had happened to spark his interest, nor get his blood pumping and his adrenaline souring. Curious onlookers and several entertainers had thrown the odd glance his way, though a few of the intoxicated hurled abuse to match, and several members of the staff had approached him cautiously throughout various stages of the shift, perhaps thinking that he was a particularly agitated customer. He was anything but that though and a few harsh stares, followed up by bestial snarls had been enough to deter most of the onlookers. The few that let their curiosity get the better of them or otherwise antagonised him soon bore the full brunt of his displeasure, but these minor scrapes and short brawls were nothing disconcerting.

Grievous clenched the fingers of his right hand into a fist, digging his talon like nails so tightly into his palm it made his knuckles crack and almost pierced the skin. He unclenched his fist and with a exasperated grunt propped himself up against the door as best he could. Turning his gaze downwards, he noticed a loss gaming chip had somehow found its way over to him, and now rested so close that Grievous could easily have stooped down and picked it up. Unaware of the color schemes however meant Grievous was uncertain of its value, perhaps a few credits worth at most, it was unlikely to conceal a small fortune otherwise someone would most surely have come looking for it by now.

Grievous simply kicked the chip away absent mindedly. He had no interest in finding out either way, or taking part in the competitive fields that encompassed him. With a second sigh he raised his head up and returned to his vigil, keeping himself propped against the door, arms still folded in what he hoped was a intimidating posture. Gazing absent mindedly across the entertainment facility did nothing to relieve his tension however, and within seconds boredom quickly settled in. Eyes narrowing Grievous' gaze settled on the floor once more, and he kicked it with the talons of his left foot with a displeased grunt.

This was getting ridiculous!

This was the work of bouncers and hired guns used to whittling away their time in exchange for small coin. Grievous was a soldier, above all other things, his patrons knew that, and he was not just any particular kind of warrior at that either. He was a warlord, THE WARLORD at that, the hopes and prospects of all his peoples rested upon HIS shoulders. Grievous' loyalty should belong to nobody, no one except perhaps himself and the interests of the people he protected and ruled over.

If the situation had been different perhaps he could have been ruling Kalee by now with an iron clad fist, helping to create a golden age for his peoples, one in which the Kaleesh lived free of fear and injustice, in a paradise rivaled only by that of the gods and in such a way that it would have made his ancestors weep with joy.

Grievous sighed mournfully now, his head bowed and face screwed up beneath his bone mask. His heart was suddenly heavy, racked by sorrow and grief, those golden pupils tinted with perhaps the tiniest trace of moisture. It was a cruel game the gods played twisting with his emotions like that, and sometimes it made Grievous wish that he could not feel, anything to ease the burden now settled upon his chest.

This was another downside to this particular job placement; the long hours in which it took the Muuns to sate their insatiable greed, seemed to slow themselves down to a cave slug crawl. Whenever that happened, and a man like Grievous had nothing left to occupy himself with, all that he had left to occupy himself with was his memories and past experiences.

Hindsight is a terrible thing, Grievous had come to realise and right now hindsight and time were among the very few things that he had left. Enough to comprehend on what might of been. On just how much his life had changed in these past few months, and how everything had gone so terribly wrong ...

Upon casting off the shackles of his old identity, Qymaen Jai Sheelal had ceased to exist (as far as he was concerned) and Grievous as he had taken to call himself, had reformed and re-organised his peoples before leading them on a tremendous campaign of blood shed, conquest and glory! Spurred on by their masters successes, and refusing to back down to those vial soulless invaders, the Kaleesh peoples, comprised almost entirely of Grievous' kolkpravis had achieved victory after successive victory, eventually achieving the ultimate ambition in driving the vial Huk invaders not just from Kalee but several of their other nearby colony worlds. This later most step had enabled the Saurischian's to claim all the benefits that came with this maneuver; the establishment of their own small empire, exponential and trade resources, vibrant worlds upon which to establish colonies, and endless settling grounds until finally the Kaleesh war machine was on the verge of taking / conquering Huk itself.

In that brief instant, in the calm before the storm Grievous and his soldiers had appeared invincible.

They stood on the verge of success. Even now Grievous clearly recalled the wave of emotion that ran through him as he prepared to give that final most devastating order, and upon how he had reveled in it. Wrongs were about to be righted! Future generations would be secured. The vile Huk invaders were about to get the comeuppance. They would not as many people had suspected be exterminated, but simply such a devastating blow as to insure that they never challenged the collective might of the Kaleesh ever again.

That way his people could live in prosperity, harmony and freedom. His beloved; Ronderu and so many others, the endless fallen who had paid the ultimate price, for which he Grievous, had given so much, and whose loss he felt and carried with him every day via his chosen name were about to be avenged, and forever remembered. A great burden it appeared was about to lift itself off Grievous' shoulders ...

... then, in an instant, barely more than an eye blink everything had changed ...

It seemed that the Huk's were a lot more manipulative and calculating than Grievous or any other Kaleesh had ever anticipated. Recognising that they could not defeat Grievous on the battlefield, the insectoids had played their last, great trump card. In an act of total cowardice the Yam'rii ambassadors partitioned the Galactic Senate for aid and support, fabricating a tale that it was the Kaleesh who were the aggressors and that the Huk's now faced total extinction (well that possibility at least had certainly been true). With their planets ravaged by war, and the swathe of destruction that had been cut across every sector of the Kadok Region it did not take much for the decadent Republic to side with the insectoids.

Mustering aid and support, the Republic had sent swathes of cruisers and an army headed by no fewer than fifty Jedi knights, to deal with it regarded as 'the Kaleesh menace'. Following a bloody conflict on the Yam'rii home world that reaped a devastating bounty in both Kaleesh and conscripts lives, Grievous pulled his forces back from Huk. As if to rub salt in the wounds, the 'negotiations' as they had been termed for lack of a more appropriate term turned out to be nothing more than an effective round off to the war. The Kaleesh had already been found guilty of heinous, unrepentant war crimes against a Republic ally. As such the Jedi commanders, those so called 'guardians of the peace' and 'protectors of all peoples' had dealt out harsh reprimands and sanctions against the 'invasive' reptilians. They claimed it was an effort to quench the rebellion and stop the fighting which had taken place across Kadok.

In truth it was an effort to subjugate the Kaleesh and ensure that an uprising of this scale would never befall the Republic's Huk allies, ever again.

Pleas of innocence fell on deaf ears, and several high ranking members from amongst Kaleesh society were carted off to Coruscant to stand trial for war crimes against the Yam'rii. Grievous himself only escaped this fate due to the intervention of his closest friends and allies, who stated that if he was captured then any hope that the Kaleesh ever had of rising up against these sanctions and its deceiving master minds would surely fail. At the time these had sounded like rational arguments, but in time he came to wish that he had been taken, to be locked away and faced the inevitable conclusion of containment and death within a Republic prison cell.

It was not to be!

Grievous escaped death that day, only to suffer an even worse fate. Forced to endure agony and torment, he was forced to watch first had as everything that he had worked so hard for was undone. Powerless, and incapable Grievous could only watch as the colony worlds were stripped from Kaleesh control and handed back over to the laughing insectoids. Banned from trade with Republic affiliated worlds, Kalee had quickly fallen into a state of poverty and economic decline. In a matter of weeks the clans began to starve. In the coming months tribes were divided, families split asunder and the Kaleesh peoples reeled from scores of tragic, needless loses.

Grievous himself, was among that number.

Following the loss of Ronderu, and before the start of that terrible war Qymaen Jai Sheelal had settled down temporarily, becoming a clan leader, a husband to ten beautiful wives and father to thirty energetic, magnificent children. His children; the oldest would be a late teenager by know whilst the youngest was closely approaching the age of twelve. Though he accepted that none of them had ever equated the love and loss that he had felt for Ronderu, that did not stop Grievous loving them (even now). He would have done anything to protect those he cared about, and promised himself that he would do all he could to safeguard his families future.

Now Grievous, wished he had never married, wished that he had never been able to have children, and above he wished that he had never made that vow! Anything that would negate the negative emotions that flowed through, and the guilt that now crashed over him, for these numbers had been decimated, so that now Grievous did not even have half of that original number now left to call his own. One by one he was forced to bury his kinsman, alongside the other victims of this growing epidemic, knowing that their losses would be his burden to bear, both now and forever.

As time dragged on there was no sign of improvement, and despite endless streams of offerings and recitals the Gods remained silent, failing or refusing to offer advice as to how their children should best proceed. When prayers did not work, the sons and daughters of Kalee turned to the only material answer that they knew best; WAR! Infighting, became the norm across the planets surface. The situation had become so dire that a number of Kaleesh formed up into what would best be called piratical bands, launching raids against neighboring systems and trading routes in an effort to acquire some of the most basic necessities; such as food rations, medicinal supplies and armaments for the benefits of future raids.

Still others took to hiring themselves out to bounty hunters and other mercenary groups, risking their own lives in exchange for a small portion of the income which could prove beneficial in legally securing aid and rations to feed their starving families. The great majority of the Kolkpravis however, chose to remain on world, but there was no longer any hope of unity. For the first in millennia the tribes became territorial. Resentment towards others started to settle in and alliances were tested to the absolute limit each of the clans jealously guarding what little they had.

Intra-specific competition and raids ensued, resulting in even further loses.

Then, quite unexpectedly an opportunity had presented itself, one in which Grievous, still wracked in his grief, found a way to help and benefit his peoples once more.

It had started when several rebellious tribes banded together, with the intent of purging the ones that they (understandably) viewed as responsible for all their peoples suffering. Grievous and his surviving blood line! Though he was loathed at the spilling of any more Kaleesh blood, than was absolutely necessary Grievous realised that his clans very survival depended on his actions and he was not about to let the innocent suffer for what had been his mistakes. After single handedly confronting the vastly treacherous horde, the Khagan had his Izvoshra put those responsible for a number of murders within Grievous' own clan to death, and the survivors assimilated into his own tribe.

It was as the camp was being searched that Grievous was shocked to discover that several strange looking alien creatures were held and contained within a makeshift prison tent. Upon meeting the curious stares of the onlookers, one of them had been bold and wise enough to introduce himself to his new capture. They were Muun's, and this particular individual went by the name of San Hill. Intrigued, Grievous inquired further. It turned out that the Muun's had been captured by the rebel clans whilst on an exploratory mission of the Kadok system. From the conversation that followed Grievous deduced that the rebel chiefs intended to hold the Muun and several of his aids to ransom, vowing to kill them unless the Republic reduced the Kaleesh peoples sanctions.

Upon hearing of their connections to the Galactic Senate and knowing that the outcome would probably be disastrous either way, Grievous had decided it best to show some small level of compassion and ordered the highly prestigious Muun's to be set free at once. He had expected the aliens to be furious and hostile for their harsh treatment, promising to contact the Republic demanding further reprimand.

He was taken aback therefore when the Muun's simply laughed the matter off, as if it was an everyday occurrence and then upon requesting an explanation at to the reasons behind this, demonstrated (there was no other word for it) absolute pity for the Kaleesh's plight. The greatest surprise however, was yet to come!

At the evening banquet, which the Muun's had so aptly invited themselves along to, owing no doubt to a lack of anything else to do whilst Grievous' troops arranged a transport for them which would get them safely off world and all the way back to Muunilinst, Hill suddenly stood up and requested to speak to all of the gathered leaders and respective clan chieftains. Once they were assembled, within the relatively confines of a Kaleesh hide and mud Hill had surprised them all by offering up a business venture, which he promised in time could save the Kaleesh from their irrefutable decline. Stating that the Muun's pockets ran deep, Hill proposed to take up the massive debt owed to the Republic and pay it off in the Kaleesh's stead.

Exploiting an elusive but exciting loop hole in the sanctions declaration, the chairman of the I.B.C also revealed that whilst the clan did indeed hold delegation and vast support within the Senatorial ranks the Muun's operated on an independent basis, free from Republic control. As such it would be a simple matter for the chairman to say; petition several investors more loyal to the banking clan than the Republic, in order to re-encourage exportation of Kalee's dangerous wild beasts and other goods thus helping the Kaleesh to get their economy back on track.

The various chiefs and shamans exchanged enthusiastic glances, barely able to contain their excitement. This offer was a god send, an opportunity which the sons and daughters of Kalee had been waiting for. Yet even so, the surviving warlords were very cautious and weary with taking up this offer. Like so many other things that had presented themselves in recent years, this proposal seemed almost to good to be true ...

... and indeed it was.

"My dear sweet friends" San Hill had laughed in a manner which made the various chieftains despise him even more than they already did so. "I know that our cultures are different and our systems separated by many parsec but surely you can understand the arrangement between business partners. This is an arrangement between different parties, both side must receive and acquire equal compensation for what they have to offer. You don't get something for nothing you know!"

He had laughed uproariously again, making several of the elders including Grievous glare at him. Bentilais San Sk'ar had actually snarled and bared his teeth at him, hand tightening upon the grip of his war staff. He wasn't the only one, several hands shifted tentatively towards their owners weapons. Perhaps noticing this the Muun had hastily stifled his amusement and added, "But please do not panic. As I said we understand the full severity of your current situation. Which is why, we have a simple, reasonable request in exchange for all of the support which we are offering you. One which, I think shall mutually benefit both our factions!"

Mutual benefit, Grievous recalled, that was the way San Hill put it and when the Kaleesh finally demanded just what that recompense would be exactly, the Muun simply raised an elongate, emaciated looking finger and pointed straight at Grievous. He was the requested bargaining chip!

Having witnessed Grievous' capabilities first hand, the Muun's single demand for all this was that in exchange for the Muuns support and promised materials; Grievous would come and work for the Banking Clan, as an enforcer. Despite heavy protests (the Izvoshra being amongst the most outspoken among them) the I.B.C would not hire any other Kaleesh. Hill promised the each of the Kolkpravis that their Khagan would be well cared for and richly rewarded for his services.

The finality with which Hill had rounded off his argument, made the intentions of his offer perfectly clear; This is my first and only offer ...

... take it or leave it!

Even now Grievous was still able to recall the way the rest of the spectators had all looked at him. Some had said he should refuse, others pleaded otherwise stating they had no other options. The anguish within each of their eyes. The desperation in which the people he loved stared at him, the way they bickered and argued back and forth amongst the themselves voicing their unsaid pleas, whilst the Muun's looked on with cold contempt knowing that they won no matter the outcome.

Even as he looked on at his wives despair, and the Izvoshra's torment Grievous thought he sensed a spur of intrigue and hopefulness in San Hill's expression. It had been enough to make even him look away, starring off into the endless flames that provided heat and illumination to the great bickering shadows which were cast over him as he weighed up his options; his own humility and personal struggles against the decline of his peoples and the irrefutable extinction of their culture.

It was no contest!

After making sure of the guaranteed care and lasting protection of his surviving clan and family members under the Izvoshra's care and after ensuring that the Muuns would deliver on their promise within hours of his departure Grievous accepted the conditions. A few hours later he departed from his home world as a simple pilot on route to Muunilinst with San Hill's entourage.

San Hill it transpired was as good as his word.

No sooner had they touched down upon the Muuns home planet, when Grievous received a transmission from the Bentilais San and the other Izvoshra stating that the promised rations had arrived. Since then, Grievous had been treated like royalty and had indeed proven himself to be very capable and effective at his job. Hardened by years of experience on the battlefield, Grievous had found himself to be an intimidating figure and had relatively little trouble in 'persuading' certain individuals indebted to the Banking Clan to hand over their promised investments, or to otherwise pat outstanding fees back over to the Muuns. His exploits had taken him to many regions of the galaxy. As promised, each successive mission brought Grievous nothing short of a small fortune in wages and material goods. Much to the Clans amusement and confusion however, the Kaleesh warlord generally refused to keep it, and instead donated the majority of his wealth to the necessary factions that would benefit his peoples, and aid in their recovery.

In truth however, Grievous hated and despised his job. Whilst he liked to think of himself as an honest figure doing what he was paid to do and for the benefit of those he cared for, there was little doubt that violence was a necessary component of his employ and that death and destruction tended to follow in his wake. Whilst he was certain that most of the individuals he had been forced to kill throughout his exploits would not be solemnly missed, all that this did was to further highlight just how significant the amount of corruption and debauchery was stretched across the galaxy these days. No matter how far he went or where abouts these simple factors seemed to be an everyday fact of life, and were to be found not just outside the Republics control but from within areas that often times claimed to support and reinforce it.

Grievous turned his gaze upwards again, contemplating upon how the establishment that he now surrounded him was perhaps as fine an example as any, as to just how far the galaxy had fallen.

Aptly named, the entertainment station called 'Paradise', was a place were just about anything in the galaxy was possible. Created at the behest of several Muun investors more than a millennium ago, the self sustained space station was open to people from every echelon of society. Sentient's traveled from light year's away to stay in one of the eighteen lavish hotels, gamble at any number of the extravagant twenty casino's or dine within the richly ornate pubs and restaurants before visiting some of the other entertainment facilities. Hill had once proudly told his enforcer that this station had no equal, and Grievous could believe it. Evidently the Muun viewed it as a worthy investment and an iconic symbol of his forefathers collective intellect and foresight.

Grievous viewed it from a slightly different perspective; disdain. Everywhere he looked, the Kaleesh saw people from the lower most reaches of society. Outlaws, bandits, pirates, slavers and other criminal members outnumbered the majority of what might be called the moderately decent peoples that were just seeking a good time. Credits were gambled and thrown at an exponential rate, drinks were downed in great fathoms, and the air stunk so badly from a mixture of narcotics and alcoholic beverages that the filtering systems suspended in the ceilings could barely cope.

Fights, as Grievous had gathered, were not uncommon here, so he was unsurprised to see significant individuals surrounded by several highly equipped bodyguards, and judging by the look of them several bounty hunters as well. Those unable to afford such a luxuries had to contend with personal armaments. Grievous himself, was garbed in the traditional war attires of his peoples but carried more up to date weaponry. A broad double bladed electrostaff and a DT-57 blaster pistol, both of which were customised unique weapons manufactured to his exact specifications, top of the line and unyielding.

He needed them!

Aside from the relatively frequent bar brawls, Hill had explained that kidnap and murder were a common feature on Paradise and as he had learned (from no less than San Hill himself) not even the Muun's were immune against such debauched actions. Though they themselves never frequented the joint, the people knew who was in control here, and as had been the case with the Kaleesh rebels, there was always someone bold or stupid enough to think that he or she might be able to take a Muun hostage and barter some form of material wealth in exchange for the prisoners safe return. As such the Muuns took no chances, and reinforced security measures were installed whenever they felt need to venture into Paradises quarter. Today, part of that task had fallen to Grievous.

And yet you permit all this just so that you can make a few more measly little credits,Grievous thought to himself not daring to speak his thoughts aloud lest the Muuns get wind of it. "BAH!" He snorted, his sneer hidden beneath the features of his Mumuu skull mask. His eyes swept the scenery once more. A group of drunken patrons Grievous took to be pirates were singing drunkenly at a bar, the lyrics slurred and barely discernible above the casino's own singers. Another fight seemed ready to break at one of the gambling tables a short distance away, as the patrons looked just about ready to draw their sidearms. To the far right there came a loud raucous cheering behind a central divider, which Grievous knew led to a small arena / pit, where spectators could watch and bet on the outcome of gladiatorial spectacles. Evidently something had just happened to please the crowd no end, meaning that some unfortunate person or wild beast had just lost its life for the entertainment of the crowd.

Aside from all the gamblers, drinkers and the lavishly oiled droid card sharks which tended most, but not all of the gaming tables (indicating the Muuns preference to actual paid workers), only two things caught Grievous attention. The first was the large number of B1 series battle droids posted at regular intervals across the casino's perimeter. Accompanied by a few burly sentients these automatons, armed with assault rifles made for a cheaper substitutes to the erstwhile bouncers that other casino's often tended to hire.

Grievous snorted again, shaking his head in discontent. Useless things, that was his opinion on these walking scrap piles. While others may have treated the droids with caution in such deadly numbers, Grievous was aware that the machines electronic brains operated at a system level barely more intellectual than a standard work drones. From first hand experience Grievous had seen just how pitiful these automatons actually were in combat. On an individual basis they hesitated or struggled with even the most basic of commands, querying every action, more concerned with making sure that they were following a directive to the absolute letter rather than actively succeeding in a mission. With each successive mission that they accompanied him on, a little more of Grievous' patience gradually whittled away until he finally reached his breaking point and went to San Hill asking him to do something about!

This in itself had been a fruitless endeavor, and his original proposals were both instantly rebuffed. No matter how hard he pleaded, the Muuns simply refused to let Grievous command anyone except for the battle units with which they supplied him. They declined to let Grievous summon a number of his Izvoshra or else let him recruit an elite unit from the ranks of his Kolkpravis. They also turned down the proposal to let him hire a group of bounty hunters, even though he offered to pay for them out of his own pocket, and to provide for them in much the same manner as the Muuns were doing so for him.

"You will have to make do with battle droids!" they insisted at the end of these discussions, and in the end Grievous was forced to back down.

That evening however, after the greater portion of his fury had abated Grievous was struck by a source of inspiration and idealistic notion. Having persistently revisiting the Muuns decisive words over in his mind, he hit upon a loop hole in their sentiment, much like San Hill had done with the Republic's sanctions. "Make do with only battle droids then hey?" Grievous had muttered to himself.

"Right then. We'll see about that!"

And so it was that after a lot of pondering Grievous came up with an alternative plan. From that point onwards, whenever he had a spare moment between missions the Kaleesh devoted himself over to study and revision, constantly reading up on mechanics, droid design and robotics. This in itself was an easy thing to do as the Muuns library contained sufficient information on the subject, enough to keep a dedicated follower content for all of eternity. As such much of his time was spent in the library and whilst Grievous did not come to quite understand or appreciate all the terminology and everything else that he was reading up on, it was enough to form a basic understanding of how droid mechanics worked.

What followed was far more arduous.

Days and weeks, turned into months and yet still every night Grievous stayed up late within the confines of his quarters. Sat behind a polished desk, one hand clutched at a pen that was continuously pressed against a sheet of flimsi, whilst the other typed persistently upon the keys of a holo-board. Constantly working and reworking his designs into both paper format and hard copy form, Grievous ended up physically drained. In the end however, he was eventually able to refine, rectify and polish his results until at last, at long last he was satisfied with them. All that remained now was to present his idea to his employers.

The gods evidently smiled upon him, because as luck would have it his next meeting with the Muuns came that following day. Once summoned he went to his intended meeting hall without complaint, a small booklet and a holo-disk clutched tightly under one arm. When called in however, Grievous was due for a shock. It was not just San Hill that was waiting for him this but what turned out to be the heads and representatives of several business corporations, including the Techno Union, the Corporate Alliance, the Commerce Guild and the Trade Federation.

Whilst the corporations were unquestionably rivals, it appeared on this occasion that the group shared a mutual interest and as such on this particular occasion it seemed banded together. From the debriefing that followed it turned out that each of the various corporations had been conned and was owed an exponential amount of credits, a massive debt as at were, all from the same client. This individual, operating under several various alias', had gone to ground on the Outer Rim World of Thule, where he had assembled a massive band of mercenaries and bounty hunters in order to protect him. Grievous job was simple, defeat the army and retrieve the investments or bring the kriffin vulture back so that he might face justice. His benefactors promised not only a handsome reward for his effort but each side also pledged an entire division of battle droids, Droideka's and various prototypes to assist in this endeavor.

It was the opportunity Grievous had been waiting for. Even now it brought a smile to Grievous' face to recall the dumbfounded expressions on their faces when he 'generously' accepted their offer but stated that he would only take the Droideka's and prototypes as part of the arrangement, refusing point blank to command the legions of bog-standard battle droids that were being offered to him. Hill had tried laughing the situation off, whilst hissing at Grievous to accept the corporations help so as to avoid upsetting potential enemies. Grievous however, refused to be ordered around, he had spent to much time and effort on this project to turn away now. So after making his personal opinions known and felt, he had presented Hill with an alternative solution.

It was here that the Muun and other guests first beheld his detailed plans for a new battle droid design, one that Grievous had modeled after his allies in the Izvoshra. This he explained, was a droid capable of fighting; that could engage enemies not just from a distance but in hand to hand combat as well. The orientation of the hand configurations enabled it to wield any type of weapon, and their positronic brains, Grievous argued ensured that these units would have the capability not just to adapt to any situation but also the capability to learn from ones mistakes, along with the creativity to think outside the programming in order to achieve a pre-ordained task.

It had taken Hill quite some time to recover from what Grievous interpreted as aftershock. Then, as with every occasion that followed Hill had 'begrudgingly' turned him down. His excuse was that it was to late to influence the outcome of the mission, and that it would not be 'proper' for the Muuns to divert resources that were needed desperately needed elsewhere to satisfy Grievous' own personal agenda.

Grievous had snarled, just like he was doing now his teeth bared, before stomping out of the room saying he was going to get ready for the mission. His designs, which had been accidentally been left behind in his haste were returned once his objective was seen through.

He was no fool, despite what everyone seemed to think. He knew perfectly well what the real reason was for this lack of enthusiasm on the Muun's part actually was. Fear! Hill and the others knew what Grievous was capable of, having witnessed it first hand on Kalee or else heard about it from his exploits. The promises to help restore the Kaleesh nations had indeed been fruitful but now he realised really were a double sided coin.

On the one hand Grievous was well cared for and his peoples culture was gradually being restored. This did nothing however to sooth the reality about Grievous' situation. He was in every sense of the word a hostage kept under the watchful eye of his Muuns overseers, and a prisoner forced to do their bidding so as to make sure the Kaleesh warriors toed the line. As far as Hill was concerned, he and the rest of his clan folk had the Kaleesh people and its warriors held in a tight nit noose. One wrong move and the Muuns would simply execute their Khagan, leaving the Kaleesh people without its leader and without a bargaining tool to maintain good relations with the Muuns.

To quench these troublesome thoughts Grievous searched desperately for some form of distraction. It took the form of a number of individuals spotted in and around the mass assemblage. These however were not patrons or customers. Like the patrons this group comprised of both males and females peoples, from a number of species that walked in amongst the crowd, pausing every now and then to offer up the goods that they were selling to any prospective clients. This in itself was nothing extraordinary, but what made these individuals stand out was the sparse amount of clothing that they were wearing, which in some cases bordered on almost nothing at all.

Grievous' glare intensified as he regarded these creatures with pure discontent. These were the stations pleasure slaves; ragged individuals with so little hope or prospect in life that they were forced to sell themselves out to the lowest forms of society in the hope that one day it might lead them to a better future. Personally Grievous doubted that many of them were successful. They were to be found all across the facility, walking in and out of the crowd, busting sweet moves upon the dance platforms in front of a swooning cheering crowd, and in a few cases operating some of the more lucrative gambling stations. A few even stood along the walls alongside the battle droids and bouncers, swooning and waving as tried to catch the eyes of customers looking for something that went beyond the reach of beverage and alcohol. It satisfied Grievous to see not a single Kaleesh was to be found among their ranks. He liked to think that his people were to proud to stoop to such levels and would have killed any that dared to contradict that opinion.

He watched as a number of the scarcely clad females approached one of the nearby tables. The group comprised of a Twi'lek, Ithorian, and Zeltron of indeterminate age alongside a human female that if he had to guess looked to be in her early to mid twenties. Each female carried a tray ladled with trade goods; 'exotic' beverages, various forms of liquor and tobacco leaves. As they approached several of the male players turned their eyes away from the table and focused upon the females instead. Catching the eye of what they regarded to be 'particularly prospective clients' the women approached at a brisk pace swooning and laughing provocatively as they bent down to offer up free samples of their goods they were selling alongside other 'more pleasurable experiences'.

Grievous turned away, unable to look at them any longer. His honor as a warrior held him back and dictated that he found such actions repulsive. It was times like these that Grievous wished he had his Izvoshra with him. As majestic as they were powerful these Kaleesh were both loyal and head-strong. Like him they would have the situation repulsive and if necessary slaughtered each and every one of these creatures simply for existing.

And yet even so, Grievous was forced to accept that he could not deny his baser instincts. Much as it revolted him, a part of him secretly wished he was over there with the females, contemplating that perhaps just maybe, it might be good to feel the touch of a woman once more.

The thought about his former comrades however, brought a sense of clarity to Grievous' mind. It was for them and for so many others that he had taken up this profession. No matter how debilitating the task, however lonely he felt and despite the ups and downs of his livelihood, the simple fact was that without his exploits, his people faced a long painful demise through starvation and degradation. He sighed, taking several deep calming breathes as he tried to regain his composure. For the time being at least, this was his livelihood.

When things got better he would return home, but for now this was his profession.

His people, his families lives depended on it and at the end of the day, the simple fact was Grievous indeed treated very well by his employers.

No matter what his personal feelings on the matter, he must to bear through this! He must! And so with a short sigh but seemingly less heavy sigh Grievous returned to his vigil.

Grievous lost track of how much time he actually stood there for, but it felt like an eternity, watching as the frequenters enjoyed themselves, taking advantage of everything that Paradise's vast playing fields had to offer. His venture was so uneventful, that when the door suddenly rattled and groaned at the forced effort from someone trying to open it Grievous viewed it as nothing short than a long overdue blessing. He stepped to the side ,and the first to emerge was a silver plated protocol droid. Ignoring Grievous the unit turned its attention to somebody on the stairwell instead, before verbally and physically beckoning them forwards. A large number of smartly dressed people from a number of species proceeded out of the stairwell and into the gaming hall. Grievous was under no illusion as to who they were: these were the Muuns personal guests.

The Kaleesh stood up-straight his posture rigid, feigning a move of regarding them respectively, whilst secretly daring any of them to challenge him. Most of the procession was talking excitedly amongst themselves, and to their armored guards and so generally ignored him, though a few did nod appreciatively as they made their way into the vast playing fields. Once the last individual had passed on by the protocol droid finally turn its attention to the Kaleesh.

"Greetings to you Master Grievous. I sincerely hope that your duties were not to cumbersome or to boring for you liking" she said in what some might have perceived as a sincere statement.

"Hardly anything happened, so no not to cumbersome at all" Grievous replied in a sarcastic tone, caring little for the machines unrealistic sentiment. The droid however, didn't seem to pick up on this factor.

"As I am sure you have gathered the conference has just ended. You will be pleased to hear that Master Hill and his associates have enjoyed yet another very profitable gathering this and that the Clans reserves have been ..."

I can believe it Grievous thought to himself, though he said nothing. He inclined his head simply,and this time the droid seemed to sense that he was not really interested. She changed the subject. "Uh hum, anyways once the meeting was adjourned Master Hill indicated that the other officials should be sent down this way so that they might enjoy the rest of the facilities, and see for themselves just exactly what it is that this station has to offer".

Grievous nodded with disinterest, he had worked with the I.B.C long enough to know how this would play out. Financiers and bankers were only interested in two things: making credits and keeping their customers satisfied. The Muuns would send private communications down to the gambling rings, insuring that these guests would ascertain the best seats, gambling results and fortitude that money could buy. By the time it came for these sweltering heaps of Bantha dung to actually leave this facility, their pockets would be bulging with credits, their lips would have frequented and tasted the finest foods and toxins both legal and illegal and quite possibly they would have a new acquisition at their side, in the form of a new slave.

The droid spoke up again interrupting this trail of thought. "Master Grievous, sir now that your mission has been completed would you be so kind as to follow me. Only your presence has been requested". Grievous nodded, thinking that this seemed reasonable enough request. It was only when the droid added, "It appears that my creators Master has a matter which he would like to discuss with you", that Grievous looked at her curiously.

His insides tightened and he groaned visibly as the truth finally settled upon him. She was not a member of the Paradise droid staff nor had she been created for the purpose of serving the populace of Muunilinst, her affiliations lay elsewhere. With little choice however, he followed the protocol unit at a begrudging pace. Grievous knew all to well who this 'master of her creator' as she referred to him really was. Viceroy Nute Gunray, Chief financier and chairman of the Trade Federation. Hill had told Grievous beforehand that the Viceroy and his associates would be present at this meeting, but the duo had hoped that the Neimoidian would be to occupied with trade exploits and other matters, to realise that Grievous was present. This was why Grievous had taken up his post before the guests could arrive so as to avoid the Viceroy who, whenever Grievous was present often tended to find time to discuss more personal matters with the Kaleesh enforcer.

In most cases this tended to revolve around Grievous' employment.

Known for their shrewd business sense Nemoidian's actively sought out any opportunity to expand upon their wealth, generally this culminated in the acquisition of further resources. Those of the Trade Federation were perhaps the most zealous in this endeavor. Though they tended to cooperated most harmoniously when necessary, there was unquestionably a sense of unease and tension between the Intergalactic Banking Clan and the Trade Federation and whenever an opportunity to upstage the other faction ever presented itself to one of the relevant corporations that often took it, without any regards or hesitation.

Grievous and Gunray had meet each other for the first time nearly four galactic standard months ago now. The Neimoidian had been amongst the group of congressmen, that commissioned Grievous to retrieve that overdue loan, and as such bore witness to Grievous' presentation sparking an interest in the Kaleesh warlord. As cunning and as he was obsessive, the Neimoidian was careful not to approach Grievous directly at first, not until he had gained as much information as possible. Only then did Gunray come to Grievous, with a proposition:-

"Come and work for me" the Neimoidian had said after a brief introduction. "The Trade Federation always has use for a man of your talents. Whatever they are paying you here at the Intergalactic Banking Clan, I will double it!"

Grievous could not deny that it was a bold move to make on Gunray's part, especially since he made the request right in front of San Hill and the other Clan leaders. The Neimoidian was smooth but practical, evidently he expected that his offer would be accepted. Grievous' honor however, dictated that he follow a job through to the end, especially since it was the Muuns, not the Neimoidians, that supported his peoples financially thus saving them from poverty and extinction. Which was why on principle Grievous had 'begrudgingly and most politely' turned the Viceroy down.

The Neimoidian had taken this initial rejection gracefully and with surprising composure, but if Grievous thought it would bring an end to Gunray's ventures he was sadly mistaken. From that day onwards, whenever the Neimoidian saw fit to visit Muunilinst, Hill did his absolute best to keep the Viceroy and his enforcer firmly apart, but the slippery Neimoidian was not known to give up lightly. Since then he and Grievous had crossed paths no fewer than eight times, but on each occasion the Viceroy was quick to repeat his offer. Originally he did this to the letter, but as time passed Gunray offered even further riches: ranging from starships to battle cruisers, not to mention a vast amount of credits. Yet on each occasion Grievous graciously refused him, hoping against hope that this time message might finally hit home, and that the Viceroy would recognise he was working on a lost cause.

Evidently this was not the case, and Grievous resigned himself to the inevitable!

They entered what Grievous took to be the congress room a short time later. The cylindrical room was dark, as grey as the Muuns typical tailoring and had an air of foreboding about it. The space was empty save for a number of chattering Neimoidians, plus San Hill and his small Muun entourage. The two groups appeared to be in animated discussion but stopped abruptly as the silver plated protocol entered.

"General Grievous as requested sir!" she said indicating Grievous as he stepped forward eyes locked with those of the spectators. The Kaleesh braced himself, waiting for the inevitable, and sure enough ...

"Grievous!" a certain individual cried out enthusiastically. "Ha, ha, ha Grievous! How are you? So nice to see you again my old friend!" Nute Gunray himself stepped out of the crowd and approached the much taller figure. As he approached Grievous noted that his face amphibious face was grotesquely distorted, his lips pulled back. the scarlet eyes twinkling with the type of reverence that one often tended to associate with a smile.

Gunray swept across the space between them, his arms spread wide open like someone about to hug / greet a long lost friend. Grievous made no attempt to replicate the gesture. He stood rigid, hands bawled into fists, but for the sake of being courteous in front of his employers, he permitted the Neimoidian a brief nod. "I am very well thank you Viceroy. It is nice to see you as well" the Kaleesh said by way of greeting, trying his best not to sound too distasteful.

The Neimoidian came to a halt right in front of him. Thankfully he did not throw his arms around Grievous, but instead rested his palm casually upon Grievous' shoulder and started patting him. Forced to crane his neck upwards, so as to be able to look Grievous straight in the eye, his 'smile' never faltered. "Yes good to see you again, my friend. Good, good, good!" He emphasised each of these words with a casual pat on the shoulder, a fact which did not satisfy Grievous in the slightest. "I trust that things were not to harsh for you down on the lower levels?"

"There were a few instances but nothing that I could not handle" Grievous responded in a monotone, glancing over the Neimoidian and starring straight at San Hill as he said it.

"Excellent!" the Viceroy said a bit to quickly, "Wonderful news, absolutely wonderful!" Again their came that irritating but casual pat on the shoulder. "When my droids informed us that you were the on job, I was in no further doubts in regards to my safety here on Paradise. I will admit that some of my co-workers may have been a bit more skeptical but not me! No, no, no I told them straight up that there was absolutely nothing left for us to worry about. Any assassinations or hijacking attempts will be thwarted I said with Grievous watching over us, and I am quite sure that your benefactors in the I.B.C will be most satisfied with your actions here today?" He shot a contemptuous smirk at San Hill, who frowned irritably at him.

"Grievous performed his task most valiantly" Hill spoke hastily. "With the talents and skills of one benefiting an individual of his calibre. I guarantee that once we are safely back on Muunilinst he can look forward to a very expansive and well deserved pay cheque."

"Ah, planetary shmavity" the Viceroy said, waving his hand dismissively. "Surely you must recognise that planetary trajectory and geographical positions are of little interest when it comes to recognising and rewarding someone's value?" Turning back to Grievous, he added "Please General, allow me to express my deepest gratitude, and to demonstrate my appreciation for your skills and talents first hand". At a hand signal from Gunray, a second member of his species which bore the typical trappings of Neimoidian aid, hobbled over clutching a small silk lined box in its shriveled hands. With a bow of the head, the aid clicked a small latch opening the small casket.

Neatly laid out within was a set of eleven credit chips the likes of which Grievous had never seen before. They looked very thin, and extremely delicate. Green in colour and embroiled with gold leaf, they seemed to emanate a sense of prosperity and wealth. Gunray scooped these up, shewed the second Neimoidian away, then held them out to Grievous.

"Here you are my friend" he said pleasantly, "eleven data cards, for your personal use. You might be interested to know that each of these has a standard value of one million credits a piece. What is more I have also arranged for an extra twenty million credits to be transferred into your personal account, as a further symbol of my gratitude".

Out of the corner of his eye, Grievous distinctly saw San Hill stiffen, the Muun's elongate, slightly puckered features bristling with indisputable anger. Despite himself the Kaleesh was visited by a brief desire to laugh. As financiers and bankers there was no greater way to insult a Muun than a greater outward display of wealth, or else being shown to throw a vast amount of credits at an object / person that the I.B.C considered its own property and personal investment.

Ultimately, Grievous decided against it. "Um, how er how can I put this?" he said tentatively trying to think of how to phrase his next few sentences, so as to not end up displeasing either the Muun financier or the Trade Federations leader. "Thank you very much Viceroy. It is a very generous offer and I appreciate the fact that you respect my services in such a manner. However, there is really no need for you to ..."

"I know there is no need for me to go to such lengths General, but in the Trade Federation we like to reward those who do us great service" the Neimoidian said matter of factly. "Please my friend if this makes you uncomfortable, then do not look upon it as a payment for your services but as a personal gift from me". And before Grievous could protest any further Gunray had taken a hold of his palm, and pressed the pile of chips into it. Grievous bristled, he did not like it when people touched him without consent.

Unaware of this the Viceroy simply closed Grievous' now outstretched fingers around the money, and then drew his hand away. "There we are now! It is quite literally out of my hands. As i have said, consider it my little gift to you my dear General. You are free to do with it as you will!"

He waited expectantly, that imprudent smile still stretched across his face as if anticipating some indication of immense gratitude. Instead a long silence ensued in which Grievous stared down dangerously at the Viceroy. For some reason the Neimoidian never quailed or attempted to take his investment back. He just stood there with a 'benign' smile on his face, as though waiting expectantly. Finally Grievous stowed the 'earnings' away, uttering a brief "Thank you".

"My pleasure" the Neimoidian responded cheerfully. "Rest assured that there is plenty more where that came from, not to mention much more for those deemed worthy enough to serve among the ranks of the Trade Federation. Especially for those dedicated towards military service."

Here we go ..., Grievous thought forebodingly, his suspicions finally confirmed. The appraisals had nothing to do with gratitude. Gunray had been trying to sweet talk him, and butter him up as it were. Slowly bring him round so that he might be co-operative and willing to listen to his offer. Once again Grievous found himself admiring the Neimoidians boldness and persistence, but that did not make Grievous any more willing to hear the Viceroy out.

San Hill seemed to be thinking along the same lines, for he drew himself up to his fullest height and said quite briskly, "Yes, well I think that will be quite sufficient now Viceroy. Whilst I am sure Grievous will appreciate the fine gifts you bestow upon him, we really must be on our way now. We have a long journey back to Muunilinst and I am quite sure that ..."

"If you would be so kind" the Neimoidian cut across him, "I am not quite finished with our benevolent compadre just yet. Do not forget that it was I who set up this meeting here today and not you San". Needless to say, that was as a genuine shock to Grievous. "You may as it were, own this facility but for the time being at least you are in fact my guests upon this day Chairman, and not vice versa. Given that you are a financier and a business man yourself, I would have thought you would be quite understanding the benefits of making one more business venture, before allowing yourselves to depart so hastily. Or am I mistaken?"

Hill opened his mouth but then closed it again. He shot a furious look at Gunray bearing his teeth furiously words evidently insufficient to express the full fury of his rage. The other Muuns copied him, glaring furiously at the Viceroy then at Grievous as if the entire matter was his fault. To their left the Neimoidians worked hard to stifle their laughter or to otherwise contain their amusement. Grievous for his part adopted a neutral position, caring little as to which way this battle of wills played out.

Even so this confrontation indicated a need to keep his guard up. Grievous recognised that look upon the Muun's face for he had seen it many times before. The way Hill's eyes turned to scrutinise him, reaffirmed Grievous suspicions. This 'business venture', whatever it was revolved around him. That meant only one thing: the Viceroy intended to persuade Grievous to renege on his bargain with the Muuns and come work for the Trade Federation. Hill suspected and held to the prospect that Grievous would never renege or go back on his word, so the Muuns reaction was indicative of something more complicated than that. Perhaps this matter had been discussed first hand or perhaps it may have been out of genuine concern. Either way it seemed that if they lingered the Muun was fearful that he would be on the losing end of the matter.

"Anyways ..." Gunray said imperialistically, turning his back to the Muuns and turning his attention back towards what he evidently regarded as the more serious matter. "I was going to say that there has been enough time wasted on small talk this day. There are more important matters, which require all of our attention. Grievous ..." the Viceroy said seriously, "... I am both thankful and elated that San Hill brought you along with him to Paradise this day because there is something is something very that I want to talk to you about".

"Yeah, I'll bet you did" Grievous mused sarcastically.

"Tell me, are you aware of the political standings and tensions that are currently circulating from within the upper echelons of galactic society this day?" the Neimoidian asked curiously. When Grievous shook his head in ignorance, the Viceroy nodded his understanding. "Quite understandable, quite understandable. However, it does not erase the fact that the outcome of these tensions might prove beneficial in the long run, to figures such as yourself General and that peoples, like myself and the Trade Federation might have need for your services in the near future. The Galactic Senate you see is proposing to place an extensive taxation on what we in the business, like to call the Free Trade Zone. I won't bore you with the details, but suffice to say that it would have very disastrous consequences, not just to myself but to other leading investors and benefactors such as themselves over there." He gestured towards San Hill as he said this, and Grievous permitted himself a quick glance at the Muun before the Viceroy carried on with his statement.

"The official vote is to take place a few short weeks from now, and if it succeeds, which I have frequent reassurances that it most likely will, then the Trade Federation intends to take a stand against it!"

Grievous raised an eyebrow, at the words stand against it. "Am I right in saying that when you say the words stand against it, what you actually mean is to take military action against those seeking to propose such an order?" Grievous inquired. There was perhaps the faintest glimmer of interest present in his voice.

"Precisely, though I think 'action' is a bit of a strong word myself!" the Neimoidian chuckled slightly, but Grievous was not amused. Gunray cleared his throat. "As I am sure you remember, we have in our possession a vast army. An army which in its own way is just as vast and ostentatious as the Muun's ..." Again Hill bristled with anger but the Viceroy had eyes and ears for Grievous alone. "... but there is always room for improvement. Following a - misunderstanding, we had with the Republic a few years ago we have since been looking for ways to expand upon our militaries finesse and to harness it to its full potential. One of the most significant problems we feel, which might equate for our failure all those years ago was a sufficient lack of proper military commanders. Am I right in saying that you are a warrior of high calibre?"

Grievous glowered. You know full well of what I am, and what I am truly capable of he thought savagely, wondering how cocky the Neimoidian would be with a taloned fist latched around his throat."Before I became an enforcer for the I.B.C I was and still am a warlord" he clarified in a strained voice, doing his best to restrain himself from ringing the Neimoidians short stubby neck right then and there. "The warlord of all my peoples, and Khagan of the entire Kaleesh nations!"

"And what happened?"

Grievous dug his nails into his palms once more, recoiling at the undesired memories. "I was outmaneuvered" he said derisively, hating the Neimoidian for making him say it. "Not by military succession, but by politics and cowardice. Now my people face extinction as a result."

"How unfortunate" Gunray said dispassionately, "that you are the great tragic victim of such circumstances!" Grievous felt his temper rising more with every second. For the Viceroy to dismiss the plight of his people so openly was just so vile.

But then again what did it matter to him? Grievous recognised. Gunray had not been to Kalee. He had not seen the savagery, witnessed the plight of his people or the desperate situation that each of the tribes now found themselves in. His concerns revolved around one individual, and held little concern for the fate of an entire species. The Neimoidian was in this for himself, for the benefit of himself and whatever schemes that his manipulative mind was capable of coming up with.

"You know what they say however ..." the Neimoidian said, oblivious to Grievous inner turmoil "...every star cloud has a silver lining. It just so happens that the Trade Federation could do with somebody like you General; an authoritative figure to command its armies. Somebody with military experience, that knpws how to command forces and is used to operating with battle droids. Knows how they operate, if you know what I am saying. Don't get me wrong, I am confident that our numerically superior forces will have absolutely no trouble in overwhelming the target in mind" the Neimoidian permitted himself a small chuckle here, "but even so it is best not to take risks, and I have certain allies that would find it, uh, preferable if this operation went off without a hitch."

You fool Grievous contemplated his eyes narrowing sharply, numbers never dictate the outcome of a battle. Not unless other factors work to that armies benefit. "And you want me to be that authoritative figure? Placed in charge of this entire army of yours?" Grievous surmised.

"Precisely!" the Neimoidian verified with a quick bob of the head. "As head of the Trade Federations grand armada, you will find ..."

"Thanks but no thanks" Grievous said decisively. "Whilst your operation does have its credit and I admire your willingness to stand up for what you believe in, I am not convinced that I am the best man to undertake such matters" Grievous lied, trying to cover up the fact that he simply had no interest in becoming Gunray's exploit. "Surely there are other people out there much more capable and worthier than I am."

"Don't be so quick to judge yourself to harshly" the Viceroy interjected, "People like you are few and far between. From everything that I have heard your reputation as a warlord is outstanding. Hill has told me all about your peoples struggles with the Huk colonists". He said it quite casually, which caused Grievous to throw a scathing look in the direction of his investors. He was pleased to note that all of the officials and not just San Hill flinched.

"You have an impressive track record it seems" Gunray went on, "especially on your home world of Kalee, and it would be worthwhile to recruit someone of your calibre in this endeavor. A new power is rising general, one that might just benefit the entire galaxy, including you and your people!" That caught Grievous' interest. He turned look at the Neimoidian and noticed that Gunray was being entirely serious, evidently he believed in his cause.

"The Trade Federation intends to be at the forefront of this maneuver general, a simple stand is all that remains, and if we had someone like you ... well then, success is more or less guaranteed. All you would have to do is pledge yourself over to our corporation, and its outside leaders. Then should you require any further resources all you have to do is name it. I can supply you with ships, heavy artillery and even cannon fodder. Just tell me what you want, anything you need and it is yours!"

The atmosphere was suddenly very tense. The spectators held an agitated breath. In one corner the Muuns looked fearful and agitated, whilst in the other the Neimoidians waited expectantly with looks of great anticipation. Grievous for his part stared at the Viceroy considerately, for a long time, turning over everything in his mind.

He could not deny that this was a very tempting opportunity. This was a chance for Grievous to get back to what he did best. He could re-enter the battlefield once more, and still benefit from. It certainly sounded more worthwhile than anything San Hill had been offering him so far. What's more if the Viceroy's resources were as vast and limitless as he so claimed then it might just be worthwhile. As for pledging himself over to a few outside overseers, well it would be no different to what he did now. It was necessary, one he was willing to put up with, in order to safe guard his people.

Despite all this Grievous refused to bow down in supplication just yet. He was quite certain that the Neimoidian was being evasive, sugar coating his words to make things seem easier than they actually were. Grievous was sure he was powerful, but then again money and military fire power only went so far, before prompting an intuitive response.

Even so one thing nagged at him more than any other fact so far. "This army of yours?" he said curiously. "It is composed almost entirely of battle droids, am I right?"

"Not almost but entirely. It is by far the largest and most expensive example of its kind anywhere in the galaxy" the Viceroy corrected him. "It is true that we have had to make a few cutbacks here and there owing to Republic sanctions, but this has done nothing to cripple our prowess or establish our military might."

Grievous was not paying any attention to these minor details, because with that statement the matter was resolved. "Then I am afraid Viceroy, that we have a problem" he said matter of factly. "Whilst I understand and appreciate their value to you, I am afraid that I must express my own personal dissatisfaction. To me the battle droids of which you speak are worthless, unimaginative and cumbersome. They carry out the task which they are programmed to do and nothing more. They are in my experience simply, how can I put it ... ineffective even with proper direction, hence my preference for organic beings that are not restricted by such limitations. Therefore unless you can provide me with an army that is truly worthy of such standards, then I am afraid I must see fit to decline your offer."

There was a brief pause, in which Kaleesh and Neimoidian stared intently at each other. Neither betrayed any emotion, a matter which surprised Grievous greatly. He had expected the amphibian to burst into protest, to berate the General and explain that he was a fool for throwing away such a valuable opportunity like this. This was a chance to make some real money, earn himself a place in history, and to demonstrate his true prowess!

This was what Grievous had expected him to say but instead the Neimoidian was content just to stare contemplatively at Grievous for a little while longer before he actually spoke.

"I see ..." the Neimoidian said a voice that bordered on considerate, and in that instant Grievous realised that he had been duped. Whether anything that the Neimoidian had said was actually true was of little consequence now, for this had not been Gunray's true motivation or intention. All this time the Neimoidian had simply been using this as an excuse so as to get Grievous to let his guard down, and to reveal what it was that truly motivated the Kaleesh warrior within.

And now, Gunray had his answer!

"Ah yes" Gunray said slyly. "Yes, I do seem recall your tirade about a better quality of troops. That was a nice presentation by the way, I really enjoyed your input and the designs you came up with ... quite impressive if I do say so myself". Once again, Grievous shot an irritated look at San Hill and the other Muun spectators. Those designs had been for their eyes only, but in his fury at being rejected yet again Grievous had forgotten to take his plans and prototype designs with him. It had been several hours before they had been returned to him, plenty of time it seemed for the scheming Neimoidian to look over them, and start planning.

Gunray did not give Grievous a chance to berate or act upon his anger. "I am afraid" he said a little bit louder than necessary " that we will have to differentiate on the practicality of hired soldiers, General, it is a matter of little indifference to me. But when it comes to droids my friend ... Ah now there, I can help you!"

Grievous looked at the Neimoidian quizzically. What did he mean by that statement? "I was rather hoping that you might make reference to it, those drafty little schemes ..." Gunray said casually, draping a hand across Grievous' shoulder, and taking up position alongside him. Grievous tensed, but if Gunray sensed any change in the Kaleesh's posture or composure he paid no attention to it.

"... which is why I have set up a little proposition and gambit for you. One that I think you will be most interested in. Allow me to show you".

It wasn't a request and before Grievous knew it Gunray was steering him gently but briskly out of the room. The Neimoidians followed suit, keeping a respectable distance, with San Hill and the rest of the Muuns quickly bringing up the rear. Gunray led Grievous into a corridor, overlooking the main casino, then turned them down one of the curved passage ways. Aside from the occasional bog standard protocol, astromech and security droids, the procession was to all extents and purposes completely alone.

Over his shoulder Grievous noted that San Hill marched at a brisk pace looking agitated and angrier than Grievous had ever seen him. Evidently the Muuns worst fears had just been realised. Their eyes met for a brief instant, and Grievous saw a hint of resentment behind the stare. Evidently Gunray had confided a small measure of his plans to the Intergalactic Banking Clan Chairman, which was why the Muun had done his absolute best to get Grievous out of the Viceroys clutches. Tried and failed, Grievous thought. Judging from the tone of his expression however, what was happening now was something that Gunray had not disclosed. Now, thanks to Grievous, the two groups were about to find out for themselves just exactly what it was that this upstart Neimoidian was planning.

Grievous turned away, he cared little about the Muun's personal feelings. If things went sour with them, the worst Grievous could expect from them was a reduction in his own personal pay cheque, which of course was of little consequence to him. As for Gunray, he had offered something that might just make Grievous willing enough to put up with and listen to him for a short time if necessary. He had made reference to Grievous plans for a new battle droid elite.

This was a temptation worth pursuing!

They reached the end of the corridor and were ascending a set of ornate spiraled stairs. Not a word had been said since they had left the congress chamber and the silence was broken only by the sound of their feet slapping against the marble surface. Gunray's hand was still draped across Grievous' shoulder, but the Kaleesh did his best to turn his attention elsewhere. He took instead to examining the pieces of fine art that decorated the walls, ranging from paintings, to expensive tapestries and marble / bronze busts statues lining, or hanging or else inbuilt to the walls of the grand staircase itself.

A golden light at the end of the tunnel signified, what Grievous hoped to be the end of their journey. As they ascended the final steps Grievous whose vision had become so accustomed to the darkness was forced to shield and cover his eyes, so as to temporarily block out the intense glare. Blinking several times it took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the brightness, and yet still Gunray steered him forward. Except now Grievous allowed himself to be led this way; for what he was now seeing was enough to temporarily take his breath away.

He was standing in what looked to be a personalised gambling quarter. Though much smaller than the casino floors outside; this one was by far much more lavish. Highly decorated, and embroiled in what could only be the Muuns favorite colours of rich lustrous gold, bone tinted white and red flashing scarlet's. Tables of every size, stature and material composition stood at every angle alongside sumptuous cushions and ornate high backed chairs upon which players and spectators could sit, eat, drink and gamble quite comfortably upon. A tilted window to one side would give anybody who looked out of it a complete view of the main casino level below, whilst the clear glass roof permitted a magnificent view of the ceaseless endless twilight outside. The walls were decorated with what could only surmise to be the most expensive and highly prized antique paintings and other vestiges of art that credits could afford.

Grievous knew that he was now standing in a room that very few beings would ever have the luxury of entering in galactic history. If he had to guess this was the Muuns personal gaming quarter, an area of Paradise that they normally reserved either for themselves, the casino's most prestigious visitors or their own prospective clients. It seemed however, that for the right price even this facility could be rented out and now he, the Khagan, a lowly enforcer was being given the opportunity in which to examine this spectacle in all its wonder, first hand.

As he tore his gaze away from the trapping however, Grievous finally became aware that the procession was not alone, and that the room was not as empty as he had fist though. Stood along the walls was a squadron of eight moderately armed B1 battle droids, which he was assumed to be an acting security force. Catching his gaze Gunray gave a brief smile, indicating that the battle droids were his.

Grievous quickly looked away. Gunray appeared to leading him towards the epicenter of this fabulous marvel. to where a group of eight individuals, stood clustered together besides what looked like a greatly over-sized black stone alter or table. The group included three Neimoidian aides, who were chattering nervously amongst themselves, and to the rest of the assemblage. Having no doubt been sent ahead, they were now making sure that everything was set in place for their masters grand scheme.

They appeared to be talking to a set of highly polished and well ornate droids. Two were silver plated protocol, the third a bronze tinted card shark. Whatever it was that the Neimoidians were saying to them it appeared to be highly important because they seemed to be hanging upon the Neimoidians every word.

The final pairing stood a little bit apart on the droids left (Grievous' right) listening in on what it was that the Neimoidians were saying but not really paying much attention to it. Unlike the rest of procession they were both females; a blue skinned Chiss with thick black hair that she wore straight, and a green skinned Twi'lek. The pair had luscious, lustrous figures and wore attire that left nothing to the imagination, even going so far as to walk bare foot across the lavish carpet. The Chiss supported a black box bikini, which highlighted the curves of her body and showed off her abs. The Twi'lek by contrast wore a single piece halter style strapless white swimsuit, which emphasised her bust and figure. Even from this distance a sweet gamely sent emanated from their direction, a deliberate side effect of the various perfumes that each of them wore.

It did not take a genius to recognise that they were pleasure slaves.

At the site of the approaching throng the smaller gathering fell respectfully silent. The Neimoidians bowed their heads in a gesture of respect at the approaching throng, whilst the three droids simply looked on curiously, as if waiting to see what was about to happen and the instructions that were about to come depending upon the said actions. Smiling, the two women took up exaggerated postures and positions, which was sure to garner everybody's attention and make sure that they were noticed. Grievous chose to focus his attention upon them, wondering how much they were being paid to do so. Judging from they way the Neimoidians had been ignoring them, it seemed that unlike the rest of the procession the women's personal feelings held as little regard or value here, as any of the droids, especially when it came to dealing figures like Gunray or San Hill.

At a silent gesture from Nute Gunray, an official that Grievous later learned to be called Rune Haako, brought the of the collaboration of Muuns and Neimodians to a silent halt. San Hill, pushed his way past his thickset counterparts to the front, so as to garner a better view of the proceedings.

Gunray led Grievous on a little further until they stood a ten feet away from the second grouping. At a swift nod, the other Neimoidians made themselves scarce, and went off to join Run Haako and the rest of the proceedings, twenty feet away, leaving Grievous alone, with Gunray and the remaining figures. "Welcome, General to Paradise's inner most sanctum" Gunray said waving a hand extravagantly across their entire surroundings. "I am not sure whether you were aware of its existence up until now, but here, this is a facility usually reserved for Paradise's most prestigious benefactors and is not usually opened to the traditional rabble found here upon Paradise. Then again you are no ordinary person, nor a member of the common rabble now are you my chief Khagan?!"

Flattery, the weapons of a coward!

The Viceroy was determined to upstage the Muuns by any means necessary and as such had resorted to the only means capable for one such as him to to satisfy his need and cravings.

His tongue and his wealth!

Keeping these observations to himself, Grievous watched and listened as the Viceroy proceeded with his dialogue. "As you can see I have personally made sure that everything has been especially prepared just for you. I have rented this space out for your personal use. The droids over there..." he indicated the silver plated protocols, "will cater to your every need, in terms of food and beverage".

"As for the girls ..." the Neimoidian said now gesturing at the slaves. "They also, are yours. I think you will find" he added slyly, "that they are quite capable of satisfying any ... other cravings that you might have."

At their mentioning, the two females stepped forwards, a purposeful swagger to their stride as they approached him. Grievous frowned at them at furiously but they simply smiled, soft loving grins stretched across their pretty faces as they approached him. They stopped about a foot away, ignoring Gunray and focusing all their attention upon Grievous. The Chiss placed a finger to her chin as she studied him curiously, her other hand resting casually against her broad partially bare hips. The Twi'lek provided a sly wink as she looked him up and down, both hands resting smoothly against her curved waistline.

Gunray relinquished his hold upon Grievous shoulder and withdrew from what might be considered to be the Kaleesh's personal space, only to have his position taken up by the two females instead. One on either side of him, they started tracing their hands over every fiber of Grievous' body whilst at the same time pressing their own barely concealed forms up against his own. For a moment Grievous was rigid, broad and furious. Then much to his own surprise, the Kaleesh found himself beginning to relax, no longer disapproving of such actions.

The tension in his posture began to subside, as his muscles began to relax somewhat until Grievous suddenly found himself feeling rather content, for the first time in a long while. It had been a long day, he realised and he was tired from spending hours just standing in that same position for so long. Now the two females were helping to ease some of that tension. Their skin was soft to the touch, the aroma of their perfumes was intoxicating and despite his discontent for their profession Grievous could not help admitting that his instincts had been right. It did feel good to feel the touch of a woman once again.

Keeping his head straight upon his shoulder he turned his gaze upon the Chiss, that now stood on his left. Her right arm was now casually wrapped around his shoulders in an almost loving embrace, whilst her other hand tenderly explored his face and chest line. Her form was pressed against his own, a noticeable waggle to her hips as she brushed herself against his joint. Grievous was almost certain that she would have kissed him, if his bone mask had not been in the way.

From the few dealings he had ever had with the Chiss peoples, Grievous' perception was that they were a very well organised and generally respected band of sentients. Calculating individuals their species did not typically bow down to alien subjugation, and who preferred to operate to their own agendas and standards, the Chiss were generally unafraid to resort to violence when and if the situation called for it, making them in many ways fairly similar to his own Kaleesh peoples. What then could have happened in order to make this particular female end up seeking a living and way of life here on Paradise?

Grievous' gaze turned to the Twi'ek. She likewise was tenderly pressed up against his, tracing her hands rather soothingly across his back and abdominal area, loosening the knots and tensions which had unknowingly gathered there. Unlike the Chiss who were typically uncommon species, that were hardly ever encountered Twi'lek's were by far much more numerous band of near human sentients, one that had developed a 'reputation' for its obsessive co-operation as far as the 'entertainment' facilities went, which might explain why this particular female came to be at such an establishment. On the other hand, despite the Republics claims to otherwise it was not uncommon for Twi'lek's to be brought and sold into slavery at an early age, and Grievous could not help wondering if that was what had happened to her. Had this woman been sold at a slave market? Taken away from her family, perhaps at an early age to be raised amongst the other low life's here so that one day she could be brought into service; to provide material satisfaction for the benefit of others.

If that was the case then, Grievous felt 'pity' for her as well. Pity! Yes ... he realised.

There was no other word for it, he felt pity for them, both of them. Though the concept and notion behind everything that defined a pleasure slave disgusted him and he still held complete disregard for their occupation, Grievous now felt that he now better understood these two individuals swooning over him. Perhaps being stuck within the employ of the Muuns, and having witnessed the plights of slavery himself from his encounter with the Huk's made it easier for the Kaleesh warlord to sympathise with them. These two females were not twisted individuals doing this for entertainment, nor were they evil figures like some of the other figures Grievous had come to know. They were simply pawns, instruments as it were. Ordinary citizens, like himself, people with feelings trying their best to find their way in a galaxy that had otherwise forsaken them.

Grievous reached out, and placed a hand casually upon each of the women's shoulders. "That's enough. Thank you ladies, thank you very much but that will do for now" he said in a voice that almost resembled calming reassurance. The two females froze abruptly apparently taken aback. Evidently, they were not expecting to be halted like this, which was unsurprising given their beauty. Grievous recognised their expressions, for it was a look that he was all to familiar with them himself.

The Muuns valued money more than anything else, and if something could not deliver they simply threw it out. It seemed that to a pleasure slave, as well as an enforcer, the ability to perform made the difference between having a job or else facing certain death out on the streets. So he added, "Don't worry! You have both proven yourselves to be more than satisfying. I just do not think it would be appropriate for us to continue such actions out here in such open spaces. For the time it seems, we must move on to other matters".

He wrapped and arm around the Chiss' waist and drew her in closer, then offered his hand out to the Twi'lek and did the same with her. In return both females placed a hand on Grievous' waist. Their fears were abated, understanding that they were done for the time being, and were now simply taking a short unexpected interlude. This small measure of courtesy had nothing to do with affection on Grievous' part. He did it simply because he did not wish to see more innocent victims fall prey to the foul machinations of the galaxy. For as long as possible he would safeguard them from the dangers of their profession and any harm that other individuals might have otherwise inflict upon them.

"What is the matter?" a slippery voice asked suddenly, with the rudimentary sense of concern. "Is this not to your satisfaction?"

"Quite the opposite" Grievous responded. "Everything here is as you put it: 'most satisfying', thank you Viceroy. I would however appreciate you telling me what this is all really about?"

The Neimoidian seemed taken aback by Grievous' bluntness. "I don-don't know what you are - ".

"Don't treat me like I am a fool Viceroy! I am not as naive as you seem to think" the Kaleesh said seriously a threatening edge now present in his voice. "You said yourself, once we arrived here that you had set this all up, and have manipulated events from the very beginning so's that I would come here. First you seek to garner my interest with flattery and appraisals. Then you bring me to this most highly prestigious establishment and seek to seduce me with two of the most beautiful females that I have ever had the courtesy of laying eyes upon". Both the Twi'lek and the Chiss' cheeks flushed bright red at this compliment, evidently they were not used to being praised with such complements.

Grievous glared directly at Gunray, then persisted. "I thought that had made my sentiments quite clear, in regards to working for you and the Trade Federation perfectly clear. Except now I believe that this is something more than just another simple business venture and employment opportunity. So tell me Viceroy ..."

"... what is it that you are after? And more importantly how and why does this concern me?!"

You will just have to wait and see.

End of Chapter 1.

Well there we have it. I have finally a reviewed and re-written elements of this story. I tried to keep it as true to the original post as possible but have had to make a few necessary modifications.

Thanks to everyone who commented so far, I was really wondering whether I should actually continue with this story line.

The second and final chapter of this story line is currently being written and will be up and posted in due course.

As before please let me know what you think of the story so far!