That moment found General Grievous standing alone in a dark room, his hands clasped firmly behind his back, his mind deep in thought. As they always did, his thoughts had returned to the galaxy, the war, and above all else, the Jedi. Just thinking about all the filthy Jedi scum that had been granted a reprieve from death because of his absence infuriated Grievous. The knowledge that they had probably pushed his armies back in the meantime only made the situation more insufferable. Idiot ponies that thought themselves soldiers pestering him was just adding a dash of humiliation to the witch’s brew of shame and anger.
For a moment, Grievous felt a series of distant tremors rising up from the earth beneath the castle, rattling the chandelier above his head. He kept his balance easily, and a few seconds later the sensation subsided. The cyborg waited to see if there would be any aftershocks – when there were none in evidence, he dismissed the occurrence as a mere minor earthquake.
That was a mistake.
From the balcony of their palace in the city of Canterlot, Princesses Celestia and Luna peered out through their enchanted telescope at a scene of horror. Many miles to the north of Equestria’s capital had been a small but peaceful woodland by the rather uncreative name of Sunny Glens. It was not especially well-known or near civilization, and certainly no Everfree, but it had supported an abundant variety of flora and fauna within its borders.
Now all the princesses could see was a pit several miles wide charred deep into the ground, from which smoke poured freely. Trees that had stood since the time of Nightmare Moon’s banishment and thousands of animal lives alike had been extinguished in an instant. Both sisters felt their ears folding back at such an awesome display of raw firepower.
“So you see,” said the small hologram of this Admiral Tarkin. “I am quite serious when I say your choices are turning over our enemy or facing destruction on his behalf. If you do not agree to the Republic’s demands at once, the next area targeted will be populated.”
The clone trooper holding the miniature holoprojector hadn’t given the sisters his name, and for that matter hadn’t said a word. The two would have found it quite unnerving had their fears not been turned in an entirely different direction. Save for options that would completely destroy the planet itself, they had no comparable weaponry their arsenal. What’s more, they had no way of targeting spacecraft they could not see in orbit above their planet.
“So,” the human continued. “Will you turn over General Grievous, or will you sacrifice your own people to try and protect him?”
Celestia and Luna looked at one another. Nothing needed to be said between them. They both knew what the only answer to that could be.
“Grievous is yours.”
Onboard the Liberator, Admiral Tarkin was feeling quite pleased with himself as he shut down the transmition. His approach had worked again. It always did. From the time in his youth when he had rid the Seswenna sector of pirates to the present day, force, judiciously deployed so as to cause maximum fear, had always been the most reliable way of inciting obedience. A man – or in this case a pair of alien princesses – that would not hesitate to sacrifice himself for a cause would balk at the idea of his friends and family and nation being annihilated alongside him. It was a pity most Jedi refused to understand that simple reality.
Including, he reflected irritably at the sound of rapidly-approaching footsteps, General Obi Wan Kenobi.
“Admiral Tarkin!” barked the brown-haired man as he entered the Star Destroyer’s bridge.
Tarkin turned to face him. “Yes, General Kenobi?”
The annoyingly moralistic Jedi Master had abandoned the negotiations to return to orbit as quickly as possible the moment Tarkin had issued his ultimatum. As was almost always the case with Jedi, he had the notion in his head that ridiculous ideas of honorable behavior mattered more than swift and efficient victory. The very reason peacekeepers should not be leading a galactic war effort.
“On my authority as High General in the Grand Army of the Republic, you are hereby relived of your command!”
“Oh really?” Tarkin raised an eyebrow. “On what charges?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Kenobi demanded. “Insubordination and terrorism.”
“My mission, given to me by no less an authority than Supreme Chancellor Palpatine himself, is to secure to the capture of General Grievous at all costs. As his authority overrules yours, I can hardly be guilty of insubordination,” Tarkin countered. “And as to the terrorism charge, the Galactic Republic defines such as intentional destruction of civilian targets for the purposes of inciting fear and compelling legal or political change. I destroyed no civilian targets, merely an area of wilderness. The recordings will prove that, if you care to examine them.”
“You leave out that you threatened to attack civilian targets with orbital bombardment!”
Tarkin smirked. “General Kenobi, it seems your Jedi senses do not allow you to detect a bluff when you hear one. There is no law against that, so far as I am aware.”
Kenobi scowled deeply. “That is a ridiculous defense of your actions!”
“Is it? I think I can make it stick in the courts,” the two men stared each other down. “Would you like to find out?”
The Republic’s judicial system, like most else those days, had been swept up in the prevailing political climate. The preservation of the Republic itself came before any abstract ideas of justice. Further, the officers running the military tribunals were very unlikely to convict one of their own for merely strong-arming some primitive aliens out in the Unknown Regions. Not a few would outright applaud the idea, and condemn a Jedi for letting civilians that weren’t Republic get in the way of an important mission.
And both men knew it.
“Further,” Tarkin seized the conversation’s initiative. “There is a Separatist fleet of considerable size that has just translated back from hyperspace on the system’s edge. It will be here within minutes. Are you going to dismiss your most combat-ready commander on the edge of a battle?”
“I am more than capable of commanding the battle on my own, Admiral Tarkin.”
“Is that so?” Tarkin cleared his throat. “While I do not doubt your competence to lead us to victory over these traitors, you would do well to remember that our primary objective is the seizure of General Grievous. Our fleet is not large enough to entirely block the Separatists from the planet. It is quite possible that a small craft could… slip by us in the clash and whisk our target away. Then he would be free to resume his campaigns against the Republic… and your Jedi Order. Is that what you desire?”
Obi Wan’s frustrated stare said everything his mouth didn’t.
“And while it would certainly be possible to dispatch clone troopers to secure the general from the aliens while you commanded the battle in space, I am certain that you are aware that it would likely be quite a bloody matter for them. He is not likely to come quietly, as I am sure that you also know.”
Tarkin paused a moment to allow his logic to firmly sink in to the Jedi Master’s brain. The look on his face told the admiral that he was succeeding.
“Unless of course,” Tarkin smirked. “Their Jedi General was to accompany them to take Grievous into captivity.”
Obi Wan glared daggers at Tarkin for some time before abruptly turning away.
“There will be a reckoning for your actions once this mission is completed, Admiral Tarkin,” said Kenobi as he strode from the bridge. “We are not through with this.”
Tarkin smiled again. “We shall see, General Kenobi.”