Servants, and among them even such lowlives as slaves, were tossed around in the Galaxy a lot those days. Even if in Coruscant, in the core of the modern sophistication and the social sugar of that very spacious eternity, such merchandise was not gladly looked upon, it was still - secretly - the most wanted of them all. What more could one have to represent his power than a fellow human life in his posession? And so servants, and surprisingly, slaves were the greatest of commodities. Sold and bought in the black markets of those high skyscrapers of the city, those commodities even had the prices only the richest could afford to pay.

The richest and the most powerful, to be exact.

But as he had been captured into a robotic body, Grievous could hardly understand why people would die to have such fashion accessories. He wasn't able to understand the power beyond deciding the fate of his victims. Maybe there wasn't any other kind of power for him anymore, since everything else had been taken away from him. He couldn't even make an expression these days, since he did not have a face to speak of. He couldn't express his joy - and therefore joy was dead. There was no longer feelings for him to feel - he could not express them in any way. Or maybe anger was the only remaining one - at least he kept feeling it from time to time. But otherwise, he liked to think of himself as an empty space, yet still, he would never let anyone call him a droid. Even if, deep down, he wasn't exactly sure, what was the difference between him and a machine. There had to be something, he had convinced himself. There had to be a line between a man and a machine that had been crossed when he had been revived. And occationally, he even liked to think of himself as a superior being. After all, given the right circumstances, he could live forever, since his body knew no age. And therefore he was could rightfully kill those of weaker kind.

And the thought of doing so crossed his mind several times at that starry evening he was introduced to a certain commodity, a gift from the Trade federation. He knew this commodity to be some sort of an undirect apology from the viceroy Nute Gunray, after having to deal with the consequinces of calling general Grievous such a common thing as a droid. 'A deed unforgivable, and he tried to make it up with this?' Grievous thought as he looked upon a young woman, brought before him on the deck of his flag crusador, the Invisible hand - formerly property of the Viceroy himself. The ship was one thing, given to the general by the dark lord Sidious oh the sith, but this woman didn't exactly show that neimoidians had much of knowledge about Grievous to begin with. And he hoped that these lower creatures didn't have the impression that he would have belonged to such a plain race during the time he had been an organic being.

At least this woman couldn't be described with any words associated to power. She was little, at least compared to Grievous, reaching hardly to the length of 1,7 meters. Her skin was pale and her hair spilled against her shoulders, like a river of oaky brown color. Her eyes could not be seen, since they stared at the floor in the shadow of her thick, long eyelashes. Grievous took a step closer to get a clearer picture of her with those reptilian eyes of his. His gigantic metal foot pounded silently against the shiny floor and he coughed, leaning slightly forward.

"What is this, captain?" he questioned with that strickt voice of his, which had a synthesized, even robotic echo to it since there were no lips to form the words spoken.

The swamp colored neimoidian, who recognized himself to be the captain to whom those strickt words were directed to, startled. He raised the sight of his oval shaped, rose colored eyes and stumbled with his words for a second, before he could form any kind of an answer.

"I-it's a generous gift fro the respected Viceroy, general," he said with a voice so uncertain it was about to collapse in the middle of those very words he formed.

Grievous inhaled. It felt horrible to that rotting, organic interior he still had left of his former self under some light metallic plates, placed carefully onto his chest. And the feeling caused him to cough once again and give out a little whine. He didn't have to breathe really, but breathing made it just slightly less painful for him - with that nasty, wet cough he had rotting inside of his fine body of metal and mechanics. The sharp sound of coughing got even the woman to raise her sight. Her eyes were large and they had the fair color of the sky as they looked up to Grievous' ivory colored mask. Their eyes met at that moment, but the warmth, innocense reflecting from the young female's eyes was something that couldn't make its way to the general who kept breathing heavily as he hunched and brought his mask - or in his case, his face - closer to this vulnerable being. The woman quickly let her eyes wonder their sight back to the floor with a little, startled sound escaping her pale lips.

"What a generous gift, indeed. She holds no value to me," general snapped, keeping his face near to the girl whose shoulders tightened up as she felt the heavy, sick and metallic breathing on her.

"I-I agree sir," said the mould colored neimoidian captain and sat down to the captain's chair in a slow, stiff manner. The neimoidian carefully observed the robotic general. Every word, every movement should be carefully considered in his precense since it seemed that the gift he was studying with those reptile eyes had not met the standards of his satisfaction.

"I mean, what could you possibly need a woman for, if you're a d..," the captain then continued, soon realising that the direction of the words he spoke was entirely wrong - so he just grew silent in the middle of them and raised his thin, long fingers to his lips.

Grievous's head rose sharply at that very moment he realised what the captain was going for. His eyes narrowed fataly as their sight poured upon him. It was like the general's irritated look would have pushed the puny neimoidian against the back of the captain's chair. Silent whimper escaped him and he tried to apologize with those rose colored eyes, because he knew better than to get to the general's bad side - for he had seen, what could happen to those who had dared to do so.

"I dare you to end those words, good captain. I can assure you, they will be your last," the general snapped, raising his voice while he stepped one, pounding step closer to the captain, whose fingers took a tight hold of the the armrests of the chair.

Grievous hunched, bringing his eyes to the level of the neimoidian's. Fear drew itself into the surface of the vermillion color and the general could detect the change in the humanoid's heartbeat. The captain's hands were shaking as they held the metal armsrests. He seemed to be sure that his days had come to an end, such horror dwelled on that swamp colored, ungly face of his. No sound from him though, Grievous noticed. This one had some rare courage, even if the word "courage" was something left missing from the neimoidian dictionary, along with the word "loyalty", anyway. And so, after punishing the captain with a few more seconds of silent staring, Grievous raised his head and turned around - leaving the neimoidian to give out relieved sigh behind his back.

Those magnetic claws installed to the general's robotic feet gave out a metallic knock everytime they hit the floor, as he circled around the young woman offered to him. He could not deny the gift anymore, nor could he kill this fair being. Of course he would have wanted to, it would have made thing a fair lot easier, but if he wanted to be understood as a powerful general, rather than a droid, among this humanoid scum, he had to come up with a different approach to this problem. And keeping this thought in mind, he stopped right in front of the woman and studied her features throughoutly one more time before glancing at the captain, who apparently tried to keep himself occupied with his command panel. After that, Grievous leant sharply forward, causing the woman to startle without raising her sight from the reflecting floor.

"What is your name, human child?" the general asked stricktly.

"I don't have one, sir," she answered, speaking for the very first time in the general's presence.

And her voice was somewhat how the general had actually pictured it to be, after studying the features of this young human female for several times within these past moments. It was clear and soft, like how her eyes were. It had a certain kind of silent melody to it, but it wasn't like Grievous would have cared much. He just tilted his head to the side. Active parts of his neck gave out a silent, metallic wishtle while he did so. Somehow it surprised him; how this piece of nature didn't even have a name to speak of, even when she was dressed into pretty little dress and could speak clearly, giving the impression that she indeed was a concious being. How could one live without a name? That was by far the stupidest thing Grievous had ever heard.

Some gift this woman was, he thought sourly to himself, while glancing at the captain once again, like through him, the general would've seen a glimpse of the source of this problem standing in front of him, glimpse of the Viceroy - even though the only thing the captain and the viceroy shared was their ever so pathethic race. Grievous slowly inhaled and narrowed his eyes, annoyed and deep in thought. And then, giving out a sickly sigh, the he gathered his hunched bearing and said:

"Well, name or not, I think we'll find a task or two to keep you occupied while you're onboard."

His words had a little echo of irritation to them, giving the impression that he wasn't exactly happy with this situation. He turned around slowly, with his green cloak sweeping the floor behind his steps and begun to walk towards the door of the command bridge. It slid to the side from the general's way when he stopped briefly, and swung a glance over his shoulder. The human female met this glance with her eyes, questions buried deep within their look.

"Move, will you?" the general snapped harshly while his reptilian gaze narrowed some, striking a quiver of fear into the human female he briefly glanced at, before making his way to the neon lit hallway.

And with soft steps, taken with bare couple of pale feet, the woman followed him like a pet of some sort. She stayed some short steps behind, though, out of respect or something similar. The only thing that could be heard from her was the fragile, clinking sound that poured from a little, golden bell, tied on her waist with a piece of satin string. Grievous could track every step taken, based on the silent song of that very bell. It reminded him of something very distant in his past life - something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Leaving this thought behind, he then briefly glanced at the young female again.

"Whatever am I to do with you?" he then thought out loud.

His tone was rather unhappy, and the female caught that. Her sight rose from the floor and met the cloak covered back of the general. And, even if the general couldn't see it after turning his gaze back to the hallway, there was a slightly surprised face which the young female made after hearing his words. She looked like she wasn't entirely sure how to answer them. She was just a simple servant, after all.

"I can sew, sir," she then decided to answer, her voice as low as a whisper.

If Grievous would still have had any eyebrows, he would have lifted one in a surprised manner at first, before he rolled his yellow eyes to the white neon lights in the cieling. One could hear his forced breathing growing heavier. Hunching slightly, he gave out a string of sickly coughs, ended by little synthesized whine that escaped his throat. Shaking his head at first, he then turned left from the main hallway and said:

"Whatever would make you assume I'd need such services?"

The general didn't look at the female while he spoke so.

The woman chuckled in a sad, silent way.

"I...I guess you're right, sir," she answered with a little, blue smile echoing through her voice.

Then a silence fell upon these two. A silence, which showed how far apart these two creatures actually were from oneanother. What ever had the Viceroy been thinking by giving the general such gift - an object he couldn't even place anywhere? Maybe this had been a further insult from him, who knew. After all, Viceroy's dislike and distrust for Grievous was no secret among the separatist leaders and it would be no surprise if this servant had indeed been given to him in the pure purpose of offending him. And now that the general thought about it, he couldn't help but to feel irritated and wonderous about the fact that he hadn't gotten rid of this little problem at the very moment she had been brought before him. He still had the chanse to do so, though.

After all, he carried his lightsaber collection with him during all times.

But suddenly, right in the middle of this very thought, Grievous's hearing censors picked up something which made him halt - right in the middle of the grey, metallic hallway lit with raw, white lights. It was a sudden question from the female, following in his footprints.

"So, master Grievous is from Kalee, is he not?" asked the woman with a subtle tone of voice, as careful as it was soft and silent.

The song of that little, golden bell came to halt as the general stopped and swung his sight over his cloak covered shoulder. Those narrow, yellow eyes measured the female for a moment and a couple of dragging breaths were drawn. The predatorlike pupils grew even thinner as the cyborg just stood still, ending the silence with a little cough, which pulled his robotic head sharply forwards and made him close his eyes for a brief moment.

"Has someone told you so?" the general then asked in return, with his eyes focused on the female who seemed to have forgotten all about fear, as her blue eyes just answered the gerenal's cold gaze.

Tone of the synthesized voice was strickt and cold, like it always was - yet this time, there was indeed some subtle elements of surprise in it. He was slightly wonderous about the question asked, even if he seemed sure that someone had leaked the information to this female. After all, as far as the general himself was concerned, all of the elements which made a kaleesh, he was missing. His former nationality could not be read from him that easily - at least he himself kept thinking so.

"N-no, sir. It's the way master speaks that reminds me of Kalee. And his eyes, they're..," the woman then answered after a little pause had fallen between words, those of hers and those of his. And while she spoke, her soft gaze visited the floor and then climbed up to the general's left eye, which she could see from behind his back as he had placed his sight over his shouder like that.

A wet couple of sickly coughs broke the moment once again.

And even those sounds of sickness had a surprised sound to them.

The woman didn't finish her words - maybe she lacked the proper description to the things she saw in the general. Surely those things lacked beauty, but the things that little human female had noticed struck some subtle surprisement into the general, who felt a fragile wave of amusement pass through those few organic parts of him he still had left of himself, deep within that metal crust of his. So, based on the female's words, the information hadn't leaked after all, but she had noticed the fact by observing all by herself. It was somewhat impressive, really, Grievous thought and turned his gaze away, into the hallway through which he then begun to make his way again.

"Well now," he started with a little lighter note.

"You have just proven to be a lot smarter than you appear, human child."