«S▲CRED»

[SwiftBlade]

ooc: Ho boy... here it comes. Hopefully she won't turn on me... darn. wb grevious.

[The General]

swiftblade said:

ooc: Ho boy... here it comes. Hopefully she won't turn on me... darn. wb grevious.

(Thanks)

[SwiftBlade]

Askim sat in his fighter, checking all the controls to make sure he didn't screw up on his repair job.
His heart must've shot into his throat, he nearly choked after seeing his ships scanners pick up a large vessel coming at them. It didn't make him think twice before he began to analyze a way to get out of THIS.

[Masurao]

(Welcome back General)

“Why did they return the ion cannons? The trade was completed right? They got the merchandise and I got the investment.”

This was not good., it seems there was a customer unhappy with the merchandise they received and they wanted to return it – for a refund no less, Buitre hadn’t laughed so hard in ages – so they could purchase Turbolasers. Buitre could sell them the Turbolasers, but it would have to be a separate transaction.

The droid nodded, reading off a holographic projection of the transaction. “They are very persisting. The ion cannons have not reached their destination , they halted that matter and are being held in a different area. Your investment is secure.”

“It is no longer my problem then. We both have what we had agreed for the transaction. If they changed their mind at the last minute then there is little I can do. Suggest a separate transaction and if they persist on returning the ion cannons then contact me and I will deal with them.”

“Affirmative.”

The droid turned about and made its way out of the chamber but before it could past the parting doors Buitre called out to it once again.

“Oh, and initiate my Notes to Self program. The message? Erase your response interface and replace it with something less annoying.”

“Affirmative. Message saved.”

“You know, you are expendable…Now that I think about it –”

Hold that thought. There seemed to be a beacon with a communications request. Buitre turned to her computer screen to assess the situation.

It was a ship. A large ship. And it didn’t seem to be a cargo holder either. It was sleek in design with what seemed to be weapons compartments within its sides. Definitely military in some sort. But she couldn’t recognize the ship as belonging to a specific specie, at least none came to mind at the moment, perhaps she would check in the database later.

From her experience, militants were always looking for weapons or information. Perhaps they were just potential buyers. Buitre dismissed the droid with a wave of her hand.

Communications were opened.

Buitre spoke first.

“Your communication request has been accepted. The remainder of this conversation will continue in audio only until further notice. Identify yourselves and state your intentions.”

Augh, now she started to sound like a droid.

Potential buyers or not, that was no reason to lower her guard. Especially with a runaway Jedi on board...

[Col. Kroenen (retired)]

Glares over at Matt from under his mask the best he could, seeing how he has no eye lips. Rolls his eyes away from him and over at the Generals. Secretly, he hated Matt. He was too ignorant and foolish to be amongst the General. Some secret, since if the time ever came, he would gladly tell Matt in his face. Turns away from them, crossing his arms behind his back, slowly making his way up the ramp to the ship, stopping for a moment to speak to Matt once more.
“When the General is through wasting time, let him know I’m already aboard,” his robotic voice cracked out through the voice box. He hated the sound of it, but its still better than nothing. Walks over to his trench coat on the floor and picks it up, putting it back on and continuing his way down the halls. Stands at the view port, very still and very silent, arms crossed behind his back, and the faint ticking sound of the gears in his robotic hand and the one to his heart echoing through the empty halls.

Upon the General’s return, he turned and gave a slight bow in greetings, then went back to looking out the view port. Oh, so many things were going through his brain. So many things to do, and plenty of time to do them, with the help of his time machine, that is. Only dilemma, if you can call it that, is choosing what to do first. To capture the Jedi and use him in a ritual sacrifice, to study up on his skills in dark magic and other mystical ordeals, to acquire General Grievous’ design blue prints and study up on all this ’new,’ or, at least, highly advanced technology and go into a point of time where he can create his ultimate machine, to go back in time and capture a Sammael, or to go acquire the sacred objects.

Relaxes at the view of the stars as they passed by, for a moment. Then tilts his head down to sorta just tone everyone and everything out so he can better concentrate on deciding what to do next. It was long before General’s voice grabbed his attention and pulled him out of his little dream state of mind. Turns his head over to listen in on General’s conversation. Turns his head back to the view port, being taken by surprise at the sight of the ship ahead. Marvels at it, admiring its design. To them it may not seem all that amazing, but to him, this was all new. Just what mad scientist could hope for: A world, a galaxy, filled with such advanced technology. ‘Mad scientist.’ He hated that description. He would never introduce himself as a mad scientist, its far too degrading for his taste, but still, deep down, he knew he probably a little mad. Still, nevertheless, he wouldn’t want being credited as a mad scientist. If they want mad, he could show them mad. Right at the end of his blades.

[econdha]

A thousand generations of technology had produced some amazing machines. The Marxist Draggie out of Glee Anselm was the nastiest war machine in Jashara Lepla Alya's memory. She had commanded many ships since she'd graduated from a pilot in the Nautolan army.

The army had mostly become token when the Nautolan race joined the Republic. The generals had mostly taken their troops and become mercenaries for hire. Lepla's mother was such a general and the short, heavy female Nautolan had grown up in a much chop shopped Arkanis class destroyer.

Their supply run was about ended, and their last stop was with Buitre for a restock on ammunition. 3 other unique Arkanis destroyers skulked along behind the Draggie. The Factory came on scanners, as well as another ship, large, military.

Jashara would stay back until the two had finished their transaction. No one wanted eavesdroppers on weapons orders. The Nautolans were going to eavesdrop anyway.

"Commander. We've identified the unknown ship as a Seperatist vessel. It appears to be the General." Not again. Jashara had been having a frightening number of run ins with the cyborg lately. Most of them ending positively, but not all.

The General wasn't going to need to buy his arsenal off a dealer like Buitre. "Maybe it's time we stepped in. Approach and open the com channel."

The Four massive destroyers halted just outside of weapons range of both ships. "Greetings, General Greivous." She spoke for both other ships to hear. "I see you've got some business with my contact." Secretly, an underling was sending a query to the dealer, asking if assistance was nessecary or desired.

[Masurao]

“Miss…”

That stupid droid just interrupted at THE worst possible times. Reluctantly, Buitre turned her head just enough to shoot the most venomous glare she could muster while still keeping her homicidal urges in check. Her hands gripped at the edge of the counter.

“What…is it…THIS time?” She said through gritted teeth.

Not that the droid noticed her aggression. It wasn’t built for that purpose. It was a battle droid, not a protocol droid. Buitre had tried to meddle with its programming more than once, to see if she could combine both interfaces, albeit with mixed results. Sometimes it would act more like the military droid it originally was, other times it was more sensible to her needs. And then there were these periods in which even the poor thing wasn’t sure how to act.

Not recommended at all.

“Scanners have picked up the signals of Arkanis destroyers close to the unidentified ship’s position.”

Arkanis destroyers? Why the hell would they be –

Jashara.

Damn. Buitre was actually expecting this specific person. They came earlier than expected. Though expectancy did not always meant gleeful anticipation. Sure, Jashara Lepla Alya was one her best clients, but she was aggressive in her negotiations. Too aggressive it seemed. There hadn’t been one time in Buitre’s memory that Jashara and her crew left without a discount on the dealer’s side. That bitch had the gift of gab. Yet Buitre admired that kind of aggressive negotiation in another person…if only that other person wasn’t so damn persisting in her deals.

A tired moan was suppressed behind bound lips.

A runaway Jedi, a large unidentified (and possibly hostile) military ship, the Nautolans…This was becoming quite a busy day.

Jashara had opened communications and her melodious voice resounded within Buitre’s chamber. Much to the absolute delight of the dealer.

...

General Grievous…?

Never heard of him.

...

Why would she need assistance? It’s not as if this General was attacking her. They’re probably going to negotiate.

Unless…

This General WAS going to attack her.

There were not enough curse words in the three languages that Buitre knew to properly describe how she felt at the moment.

Stupid Jedi…

(Oh, and I meant to say "bitch" as to stay in character and in the most uninsultive way I can think of)

[The General]

General Grievous practically snarled as the voice chimed in through the speakers. He listened to what she had to say with frayed patience, nodding at one of his droids to commence sub scanning the ship for any nasty surprises it may hold in case of an attack. Grievous hissed into the intercom, his voice practically a whisper. "You would be wise to mind your manners, Junk Dealer." Grievous snarled. "My name is General Grievous, commander of the Droid Armies. My intentions are to board your ship and search for an escaped prisoner, a piece of Jedi filth."

"You will comply to these demands, or you will be fired upon. My ship has a fleet backing it, it would not be a good choice to disobey my wishes." Grievous finished, cutting off the channel. "Moniter the ships status, if any unusual energy signatures rise, fire at will. Aim to destroy Captain, either way it is no matter to me."

"Yes, General." The droid responded, then turned to relay the instructions.

"General," A communications droid chimed in before he could exit. "We are being hailed by another vessel."

"Open a channel." Grievous hissed, turning to face the holo projector. "Ah, what a pleasent surprise." He commented as the projection of the Republic Commander (at least I think she is..) filled the room.

"Buisiness? You have me all wrong, I'm merely here to pick up a friend that is all." He said in a form of mocking reply. "You can keep your second-rate junk, I have no use for it."

[Masurao]

Junk dealer? Buitre had been called nasty names before but none stung so deeply as junk dealer. It was practically an insult to her profession. A profession she worked hard on and took great pride in. It took a lot of self-restraint on Buitre’s part to not outright cuss out the other party with her own arsenal of insults. It was extremely tempting at the moment though. That raspy-voiced general was not only rude, but he practically demanded that he board her ship…alongside a threat of all things!

Though the communication was cut off, Buitre spoke to the only member of her audience in her presence. The droid.

“Open up the docking bay on Hangar 1 and send a clearance beacon so that this General Grievous can meddle in my business a little bit more at his leisure; then call for some maintenance droids to Hangar 3 and the communications rooms. Those areas are to be cut off. No one without my authorization may enter those areas…or leave them.”

The droid nodded. “Maintenance droids have already been sent to the requested areas 344 hours ago. Data transfers display no further maintenance need and – ”

“You question?” Buitre hissed.

“Mainframe has been contacted.”

“Much better. Send me my B-2 guards, I’m going to pay my Jedi guest a visit” Buitre said as she began to get ready to exit the chamber. “He brought this mess to me, I might as well figure out what is it that this general wants from him before said general gets to him first.”

She only took a few steps forward before she stopped, turning a bit to so that half her body faced the droid. The battle robot raised his weapon, ready to take commands from her…even if it wasn’t aware that she wasn’t her true commander.

“You wouldn’t happen to know this General Grievous, would you?” Had the interface wipe-out worked fully on these things?

In a way, she was rather afraid of what the answer might be.

The droid lowered his weapon, cocking his elongated head to the side a bit. “General Grievous. Commander of the droid armies… That is all the known information on the requested subject.”

“Good, that’s good. Very well, now do as I said earlier.”

That was SO not good. Buitre had heard of a great commander of a massive droid army, no name had crossed her ears yet but all the evidence so far proved that this Grievous might be that great commander of the survivor’s stories…however few those survivors may be. What was really the punch line in the gut was that over 73% of her battle droids and weapons were of the same design and manufacturing as her personal one. All of those mentioned droids and weapons once belonged to Separatists and though it was protocol that all new machinery was the be wiped of any interface they may possess, wipe-outs were not always 100% accurate and there was always the possibility that they may hold some sort of undisclosed fail-safe to their interface that could be reactivated from her mainframe.

Meaning that if General Grievous hacked into her mainframe then he would be able to control her ship, and anything in it, from the inside out.

Her pace quickened.

Communications to Jashara were opened.

“Long time no see and yada yada yada…Listen, remember how you asked if I needed assistance? It seems you know more of this General Grievous than I do, I need as much information about him that you know or have. And if it’s not of much trouble I would like to personally invite you to my ship. Grievous is searching for a Je – for something and he believes that I have it, now I’m not sure if he’s going to personally make an appearance here or send a subordinate. Either way, I don’t like it. And I have my reasons to not trust my droids for now. Just see if you can make it. Hangar 2 will be opened for you.”

The doors to Hangar 3 opened and Buitre entered accompanied by the two B-2 battle droids towards the Jedi still repairing his ship. He seemed nervous, a bit jumpy. His droidekas turned their attention to her, stepping in front of their master to protect him. Buitre was in no mood to deal with his toys at the moment.

Her fingers snapped and immediately both the droid’s weapons were raised towards the Jedi.

“I have recently received a little message from a good friend of yours. Does the name General Grievous mean anything to you? It should. He knows you quite well, and must miss you a lot because he is personally going to come and inspect my ship to search for you. Notice the sarcasm? I’m not happy. Not happy at all. You are making me regret that the word “hospitable” even existed. I don’t have time for games of cat-and-mouse, not now, not ever. So I’m going to ask you clearly and I want you to answer just as clearly. WHY is General Grievous, commanders of the driod army, after you? Now I could just as easily denied your request to dock here in the first place, but I didn’t. You owe me an explanation...that, or a REALLY good reason why I shouldn't hand you over to the General myself.”

[SwiftBlade]

Askim stared at her for a moment.
"Simple, the General is on order to exterminate all Jedi. I escaped, and now he wants me back. He killed my brothers of the Jedi order, he has a large trophy case deticated to all the lightsabers he took from them to prove it. If you hand me over I'll die on the spot." He said, still calm. Narrowing his eyes, he awaited her response.

[Masurao]

Buitre could only stare back at the Jedi with a blank look, her mouth slightly agape. When she found her voice these were the words that came out.

“Are you retarded or something? THAT’S your reason? Seriously, you’re making my life so much easier right now. Here’s my situation, this Grievous either wants you back or he goes on the offensive. And you just blatantly told me the exact thing I should do to avoid that, which is returning you to him. Do all Jedi lack this much common sense?”

The Jedi had seemed perfectly calm during his explanation, as if it didn’t make much of a difference, or not important at all! All that Buitre had to do was keep the Jedi here until the General came and picked him up, then her troubles would be over.

Then again, he was found near the source of the rift. A rift she was still curious about for its monetary value and possibly future gain, this Jedi was the closest available information at the moment, she doubted the General will even mention it, even if she had asked. Protecting this Jedi for her selfish needs could be deemed suicidal but her selfish needs always won out in the end. The Jedi will probably not talk about the rift now, maybe later when he didn’t feel as threatened, heck she was inviting his enemy to the same ship he was currently dwelling in; there was reason enough there for anyone to feel a little jumpy and tight-lipped.

A little bit of planning ahead earlier meant that this Hangar was going to be secured with restrictive access. It was going to be a maintenance check, no one came in – not even the General – and no one came out – not even the Jedi. If she could pull this off, then the General would not be able to find the Jedi, and the Jedi would be protected from the General.

For now.

She hovered her face closer to Jedi's, a pointed finger pressing into his upper chest defiantly.

“You are so fucking lucky…”

The B-2 pair followed Buitre as she stormed out of the Hangar in the foulest mood she could remember just as the maintenance mode was set on the area. It was time to prepare for the rest of her future guests.

[The General]

In dreams Grievous remembered his life. His mortal life. On Kalee, and in the aftermath of the Huk War.

After all the close calls on the battlefields on his home system worlds, on Huk worlds, sowing destruction, exterminating as many of them as he could....after all the times he had returned home wounded, bloodied to the bone, surrounded by his wife and offspring, basking in their support-relying on it to recall him to life.

After all the bruises with death....to be fatally injured in a shuttle crash.

The unfairness, the indignity had cost him more pain than the injuries themselves. To be denied a warrior's death-as was his due!

Floating suspended in bacta, keenly aware that no healing fluid or gamma blade wielded by living being or droid could repair his body. In moments of consiousness: seeing his wife and offspring gazing on his ravaged body from the far side of the permaglass. Offering words of encouragement; prayers for his return to health.

He had asked himself: could he be content to be a mind in a body without feeling? More, could he abandon a life of combat for a life in which the only battles he fought were with himself? To endure, to live another day...

No. It was beyond him.

By then, the Huk War had ended-more accurately had been ended by the Jedi, and the Kaleesh were still reaping the whirlwind. Their world in ruins, their appeals for justice and fair play ignored by the Republic.

Ever on alert for invesment opportunities, members of the InterGalactic Banking Clan had offered Kalee a dubious sort of rescue. They would support the planet financially, assume its staggering debt, if Grievous would agree to serve the clan as an enforcer. Their hailfire weapons were proficient at delivering "payment reminders" to delinquent clients, and their IG-series assassin droids took care of the wet work. But the hailfires had to be programmed, the IGs were dangerously unpredictable, and assassination was bad for business.

The clan wanted somone with a talent for intimidation.

Both to save his world and to provide himself with a touch of the life he had known as a warrior, a strategist, a leader of armies, Grievous had accepted the offer. IBC chairman San Hill himself had overseen the details of the arrangement. Still, Grievous wasn't entirely proud of his decision. Debt collection was a far cry from warcraft. An arena for beings without principles; for beings so attached to their possessions that they feared death. But Kalee had profited from his work for IBC. And Grievous's previous notoriety was such that it could not be eclipsed.

Then: The shuttle crash. The accident. The misfortune...

He told his would be healers to fish him from the bacta tank. He could bear to die in atmosphere or the vacuum of deep space, but not in liquid. In the shadow of felled trees that would fuel his funeral pyre, he lapsed in and out of consciousness. That was when San Hill had paid him a second visit. Something consequential in mind. Obvious even to somone who could barely see straight.

"We can keep you alive," rail-thin Hill had whispered into Grievous's unimpaired ear.

Others had promised as much. He pictured breathing devices, a hover platform, surrounded by life-sustaining machines.

"I have my mind," Grievous had said. "What I lack is a body."

"Most of your internal organs are damaged beyond repair of the finest surgeons," Hill had continued. "Ad you will have to surrender even more than you already have. You will no longer no the pleasures of flesh."

"Flesh is weak. You only need to gaze on me to see that."

Encouraged by his remark, Hill had talked into glowing terms of the Genosians: How they raised cyborg technology to an art form, and how the blending of living and machince was the technology of the future.

"Consider the battle droids of the Trade Federation," Hill had said. "They answer to a brain that is also nothing more than a droid. Protocol Droids, astromechs, even assassin droids-all require programming and frequent maintenance."

Two words had caught Grievous's attention: battle droids.

"A war is brewing that will call many droids to the front," Hill said loudly enough to be heard. "I am not privy to when it will begin but when that day comes the entire galaxy will be involved. Created by somone more powerful than anyone in the Galaxy."

"Then why does he need me?"

"In every war, there are leaders and their are commanders."

"A commander of droids."

"More precisely, a living commander of droids."

So he had allowed the Genosians to go to work on him, constructing duranium and ceramic shell for what little of him remained. His recuperation had been long and difficult. Coming to terms with his new, and in many ways improved self, even more longer and difficult. Only then had he been presented to Count Dooku, and only then had his real training begun. From the Geonosians and members of the Techno Union he had already come to understand the inner workings of droids. But from Dooku-Lord Tyranus-he had come to understand the inner workings of the sith.

[The General]

Tyranus himself had trained him in lightsaber technique. In mere weeks he had surpassed any of Tyranus's previous students. It helped of course, to have an indestructible body reminiscent of a Krath Wardroid. The ability to tower over most sentient beings. Crystal circuitry. Four graspin appendages...

In dreams he remembered his past life.

But infact, he was not dreaming, for dreams were a product of sleep and General Grievous did not sleep. He endured instead brief periods of stasis in a pod-like chamber that had been created for him by his body's builders. While inside that chamber he could sometimes recall what it had felt like to be alive. And while inside, he was not to be disturbed-unless in the event of inicimal circumstances.

Despite what he had said, Droids were sometimes slow learners and not very bright at sensing what possible anger the General could hold towards them. The buzz of the droids movements brought Grievous back to an awareness of his surroundings, and with a hiss the container rose, the egg like shell cracking to reveil his mechanical form. His every intention at the moment was to crush the small droids head in with his fist, but he supressed the urge to do so.

"General," The droid whined. "They have opened the docking bays for us to enter, shall we commence?"

Grievous thought back remembering the conversation he had held with the other ship via hologram and audio. He emerged from his resting place to droids striding up, one bearing his folded cape. With a sense of duty the two droids draped the cloak over his shoulders, fastening it into place. He dismissed them both, then looked at the messenger nodding. "Retrieve the Colonel and Matthus, I will rally some of the troops. Meet me in Shuttlebay 12."

"Understood." The droid responded with a small bow.

* * *

Light poured in through the shuttle bay doors as they opened to release the ramp. Super Battle droids poured from the shuttle, 50 in all, to surround it in a protective barrier. Next came the Magna Guards, the four mechanical soldiers exited the shuttle with prescision standing guardedly by the ramp, eyeing the surrounding bay with a sense of wariness. Lastly, along with Kroenen and Matthus, Grievous himself exited the large shuttle.

The cape billowed about him as he moved downwards, slightly hunched over, his metal talons clanging against the ships floor. His two yellow eyes searched over the ship as he walked, taking little notice of anything with even smaller interest. He would have to look another time, perhaps after he had finished his little search. It was the most logical sense of action that the Jedi had hid here, as he believed the vessel he had taken was much more than less ready for intersteller flight.

He looked back at Matthus and Kroenen. "I want each of you to take Ten droids as well as one of the MagnaGuards. The rest will stay behind to guard the Shuttle."

He then turned to the droids. "No one goes into the shuttle, is this understood? Inform anyone who tries once, if they persist...kill them."

[SwiftBlade]

Askim heard the ship open, even in the area he was hiding in. Narrowing his eyes he quickly motioned for his droids to hide. Soon, he was grinning. If they came to kill him, he would be waiting.

[Col. Kroenen (retired)]

Following near the General’s side, he made his was down the ramp, the sound of his boots making hard contact with the metal walkway easily overheard by General’s heavy, loud talons. His trench coat sways with his moments, the lights around the room making his mask glimmer as he passed beneath them. Standing tall (but still shorter then the General) and covered in all black, he wore the Nazi, German army, and Colonel badges proudly, despite no one other then himself would know what they stand for in this universe.

Stops, standing at the General‘s side, looking around slowly for any trace of the Jedi. Of course it wasn’t going to be that easy. Crosses his arms behind his back, standing straight in the military position he always stood in Earth’s WWII. Nods at the General’s commands, turning to face the droids.

“You heard the General. Follow me.”

He then turned back, 10 droids stepping out of place and getting ready to follow, along with the MagnaGuard closest to him. Turns back to the General, “should we split up and search in the different sectors of the ship?” That seemed like a stupid question to him, knowing that’s what the General intended, since he ordered to take the droids with them, but what he wanted to know is what direction and section he wants them to take.

[Masurao]

It was more than she had expected. Much more. Buitre could only guess that the tallest of the group with the billowing cape and white armoring was General Grievous but though what appeared to be fully robotic at first soon contradicted with his blazing eyes and fleshy tissue underneath the skull-like facemask.

Of course, this was all thought out after the immediate impression of, “Looks like the love child between road kill and a toaster.”

A cyborg. And a really capable one at that.

And like any good commanding officer, there were subordinates and minions that followed. One in particular seemed to be…out of place, somehow. It could have been the odd trench coat he wore, or that glistening and plain mask that covered his facial features. All black. Mix of leather and fabric. Odd symbols that may have meant something or nothing in particular. That stiff stance meant militaristic in nature, so there was little amiability about him and –

Where are his organs?!

Infrared scans showed nothing! No heat originating from the chest cavity or any limb, just mechanical workings replacing the organic tissues.

Another cyborg?

At least the third individual seemed the most “normal” out of the lot. Or would it have been the opposite? Seeing only mechanical beings, or at least a mixture of mechanical and organic, and then this one fully organic person was conflicting with the pattern. Odd bunch indeed.

Buitre had stayed behind the safety of the hangar’s monitoring room until suggestions of individual searches by each of the three with their droids crossed her ears. That’s when she went to meet up with them and stop their advances with her two guard droids in tow. Who did this Grievous think he is? This is HER ship! He has no right to cavort around with his droids as if it belonged to him; they weren’t going anywhere where she couldn’t supervise them herself. The Hutts had better manners than this oversized can opener and his troupe of abnormalities. She wouldn’t have allowed it even if he was a Sith Lord! The nerve of some people these days…

The doors of the hangar opened as Buitre stepped forward to greet her guests in the most calm and collected demeanor she could muster. Her steps were calm and quiet and stood composed, though the only evidence of her foul mood were the arms that crossed tightly over her chest. She even managed to fake a smile just for them.

Buitre hadn’t even said anything yet and the General’s driods already had their weapons aimed at her, of course her own two B-2 guards with their own weapons raised didn’t help the situation either.

She lowered an arm in her droid’s view.

“Lower your weapons, both of you.”

The droids’ only confirmation of the command were the weapons that now hung by their sides. They shifted a bit, but otherwise made no more movements.

“General…” She tried to remember the name that went along with the title. “Grievous. You honor me with your presence in my humble vessel. I apologize for my tardiness in greeting you and your team but I had other matters to attend to, yet since that is out of the way I am free to offer you my guidance around the different areas of the ship if your original intentions have remained unchanged. But may I ask the reason for so many droids? I can assure you there is nothing here that would have suggested the need to use so much…firepower.”

[Col. Kroenen (retired)]

His attention quickly turns over to the opening hanger doors, uncrossing his arms behind his back and moving them over to his blade handles, prepared for anything to go wrong. Relaxes, crossing his arms back around his back when he sees the stranger approaching them with her two droids. No real threat, just a woman with some walking toaster ovens. Though still, he was taking notice in the military aura she seemed to give off. At least to him.

Takes another look around the room, taking in a deep breath, but not making much noise on his behalf. Just the faint ticking sound of the gears in his left robotic hand and the key to his heart. No other signs of threat, that he could see. But he was certain the Jedi was here, why else would the General bring them here? He was quite sure he didn’t want to come for a cup of tea and a new toaster oven from this woman.

While thinking of where the Jedi may be, an idea hit him. A way to not only find out if the Jedi is aboard this ship, but always, and more importantly, where. The tracking beacon, the Spyder. Uncrosses his arms, reaching into his trench coat and taking out the small tracking box that shows the Jedi’s ships current location. And where the ship is, the jedi shouldn’t be far away. Turns it on, the green screen lighting up and the radar beeping as it searches, a large blimp on the screen indicating the ships location. Large blimp, that’s good. It means he is close. On this ship, even. Hates to be rude and interrupt General’s little conversation. But quite frankly, he thinks the General would be more interested in the Jedi then this, as he put, junk dealer.

“General,” he began, his voice coming out robotic due to the voice box, “I have located the Jedi’s ship in this shuttle.” Hands the tracking device to the General for his own inspection.

(OOC: I seem to recall giving the General that tracking device once already. I don’t know if I did or if he gave it back, but if he didn’t then just ignore a good portion of this post. And also, if I did and didn’t get it back, General may want to think about using that to his advantage. Save a lot of searching time.)

[The General]

"Too much fire power? Perhaps You do not know of, nor understand what the abilities of a Jedi are. Even a single Jedi is a potentially dangerous threat." Grievous rasped. "If there is one thing I know of," He continued. "It is the Jedi." To add a boost to what he had said, he stretched out his cape to reviel several of the twisted, encrusted saber hilts.

He had every intention of commenting on what Buitre had said when Kroenen caught his attention. His eyes were alight with a maddening glow of excitement as Kroenen told him what the unique little device he had created relayed a signal. The jedi was here! Grievous had lost most of his emotions and feelings in the shuttle crash, but he retained a few, of which he was pleased.

"Your services are no longer needed." Grievous spoke adressing Buitre. "We will merely procede to take what we came for then be on our way. I'm glad you decided to cooperate, Dealer, I would have hated to destroy your quaint little vessel. It is quite impressive for second hand scrap."

Grievous looked at both Kroenen and Matthus, breathing heavily. "Kroenen your brilliance has made this all more easy, and quick at that. The same plan will be carried out, but slightly...modified. We will travel asa group, with a contengant of thirty droids and two Magnaguards. The rest will gaurd the shuttle. Do your best to take the Jedi alive, but if it comes down to it, our survival takes priority."

He whirled around, taking a step behind Kroenen so the Colonel could lead the way with more ease. "Oh, and Buitre, it would be foolish to try anything stupid...my ship as well as its fighters have this vessel target locked...I highly doubt this ship is fast enough to dodge that much fire power. The fact that I'm on this ship is of no consequence, unlike you, Kroenen and I are quite capable of surviving in the vaccum of space."

"Lead the way Colonel."

[Masurao]

“Do as you must General, but I still insist that there is no need for so much force. You will receive no opposition here. Not even from this Jedi you believe I have within these chambers. There are no other guests in this ship beyond you and your troops.”

Buitre took a few hesitant steps to the side, her two B-2 guards moving along with her, to allow the General and the rest of his troupe and droids ample space to move at their leisure. It would have suicidal – if not downright stupid – to have tried to stop them now. She was outnumbered, outgunned, and outeverything. There was no way a victory could have been acquired at this moment. And her dead body would have hit the ground before reinforcements would have been properly contacted.

No, it was too dangerous to do anything big. They weren’t going to take disagreements or hostility lightly, and the threats the General gave were more than enough discouragement. Buitre would have to give them the reins on the situation for now. Even in her own ship she had no control of the current circumstances.

Luckily the hangar in which their target was hiding in was in maintenance mode and authorization codes were needed for clearance into that area. If they were to reach that area, they will not be able to get through without her permission or proper codes, and Buitre had little reason to let them through in the first place.

Still, she doubted that alone would be enough to deter them.

Buitre pretended to rub the area around her eyepiece, making sure no one was looking in her direction as she pressed a button that activated the intercom to the mainframe.

Her voice was low, nearly a whisper. She didn’t need a lot of volume to be heard properly by the mainframe. And she definitely didn’t want to be heard by these visitors.

“Battle group Delta, activate.” The many collected battle droids were deactivated and in storage at the moment as individual and coded battle brigades. Buitre thought this was a perfect moment to activate the Delta brigade, a small group of over 100 units each modified with a more powerful weapon that their standard guns. This would be the first time they were active since the modification procedure. Hopefully they were just as capable… if not at least a bit more powerful.

“Download clearance codes and proceed to Hangar 3 to safeguard the individual within it. That individual must not be harmed, that’s first priority. No warnings to intruders, shoot to kill. Confirm command.”

The high pitched whine of the brigade’s leader responded for the entire group.

“Roger, roger. Command confirmed.”

Next was warning the Jedi so he wouldn’t be worried about the many droids that were about to pay him a visit and so that he may at least prepare himself for anything unexpected coming his way.

“Jedi, I am sending a small battle droid brigade to your location. Don’t worry about them. Just be ready.”

She had to relay that last message quickly. The odd one with the trench coat had been eyeing her more frequently and she couldn’t be communicating for much longer.

With any luck these droids will be able to prevent the General from reaching the Jedi if he ever managed to pass through. She wasn’t planning on them succeeding, but hopefully if they were to hold on long enough they will provide a necessary distraction.

That was a really big IF…

[SwiftBlade]

As Buitre messaged him. Even without the droids, he had a plan. The droids will help a great deal. His droids moved a great deal, each were now in different locations. If General Grevious think he would win, he had another thing coming.