A Star Wars Christmas...

Even The Bad Guys Need Gifts

        *This was purely made because 1) it's my friend's birthday and 2) she literally did not stop bugging me until it was made into a thing. So...bear with me. I apologize for whatever mess I was forced to write.*

       Far, far away, back into the gaping abyss of the galaxy, a lonely...very lonely, General Grievous looked out the large windows of his ship. As sinister as he liked to appear, he was certainly isolated--his little pet, Gore, had gone through such a terrible ending he was depressed ever since. His lungs wheezed as he scraped the droid beside him, his eyes filling with nonexistent tears, for if they were real it would absolutely be terrifying for the world. 

"He just wanted a friend." He grabbed the commander droid, and it trembled in fear.

"I...I do not calculate--"

              With a wheez, he squeezed the piece of rustic technology harshly in his arms, his yell echoing through the hull of the ship. His voice cracked.

"I NEED A FRIEND! I'M ALL ALONE! ALL ALONE IN THIS SHIP! I'M JUST STUCK WITH YOU!"

             The droid bleeped and booped and whatevered the other noises machines like him do, it's circuit panel nearly fried. It struggled to find a response to his stressed leader, but his simple, simple mind could not comprehend the load of what seemed like PMS emotions flowing from Grievous. If he could feel relieved, he would of, ripping his arm from the hold as the holocomm in his hand buzzed. Grievous collected himself, his flashy eyes narrowing. 

"..I..." He coughed, and sneezed under the mask. Sheesh, he was getting old. "General Grievous here."

                 The blue figure audibly snorted, her voice a sneer. Even so, he felt himself jerk.

"No need for introduction, General. My master told me to meet with you in the next hour."

                Grievous went to run his hand through his hair to fix it--

Wait.

That won't work.

                     Scratch that. He bent away from the holocomm, snatching a small bottle of cleaner. He applied it heavily to his armor, grunting in approval as it began to sheen. Standing back up, he straightened until he was at his full height. If only there was a way he could tell her how he felt, how pathetically insane he had gone since his isolation from others. The droid took this time of his contemplation to run out the door, shivering at the past moments. Grevious took no notice, lowering his voice as he leaned on one arm. 

"What's shaking, baldie?"

                   Ventress felt her eyes widen, her fists curling. How dare this scrap of metal with eyes of a dead fish remark so insolent towards her? Especially at work!? She lowered her tone, looking slyly towards her side.

"I told you not to call me that over calls, General."

                  He chuckled, leaning in to the holocomm with a grin. If you could see the grin. Which you wouldn't. Whatever.

"Are you...free this Friday? I am off work...General Dookie hasn't called me in for a while."

                 Ventress prevented a giggle in the back of her throat, idly blushing beneath her cloak.

"Of course I'm free, good grief. But please--for the sake of both of us, save the talk for when we have time."

                    Grievous took another sigh, staring at Ventress, her current, (and only), love interest with remorse. He clicked the comm with a small goodbye, struggling to hide the giddy of her answer. As soon as the call ended, he pumped a metal fist in the air.

               "I'M NOT LONELY ANYMORE!" He took out a bottle of depression medicine, throwing the remains in the air. 

*me at end of writing chapter*

Me: What is this mess.

Mary: Pleasssssssssssssse? This is my birthday gift!

Me:...FINE.