Hey all! :) Okay well this fic was a totally spur of the moment idea and I decided to start writing it while it was still fresh in my head! I hope to God I didn't make Grievous too OOC in this but I tried to keep him in character as best as I could. This originally was supposed to be a oneshot but I decided to make it a longer fic and expand on the whole plot a some more. Anyway, R&R please! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its characters! I do own the OCs!

Innocence is Blind

Chapter 1 Amongst the Ashes

(Borealia, a CIS pacified planet- 19.5 b.b.y.)

Onyx feathers glistened in the waning sunlight. The raven shuffled its deep plumage and began to preen itself. It was perched securely on a partially caved in roof of a ravaged home that was once full of life and happiness just a day earlier. The bird was indifferent to all the carnage around it because its gizzard was already full of rotten meat. All around the ruined city, an atmosphere of eerie silence prevailed. Other ravens and scavengers perused the area, on the lookout for free meals.

"…Must get out...!"

The raven took flight as it heard heaving breathing and gasping breaths just around the corner of the home. A lone clone trooper dragged himself through the ghost town with intentions to escape this physical Hell. His right leg had been mangled and bent horribly as if it had been a twig. The armor he wore was practically in tatters and falling off his battered frame. The trooper's left elbow was shattered, rendering his whole arm virtually useless. He was so weak he could barely wield his blaster rifle. All he could do was crawl away and try to find help.

The battle that had been waged just two hours earlier was by far one of the bloodiest he had ever seen. He had been at Geonosis two and a half years earlier but now he considered that dusty and arid planet to be a playground in comparison to Borealia. Before his very eyes, his general, a Jedi Master, had been tossed about like a rag doll by the CIS' supreme commander. In truth, the only way the clone had survived the initial carnage was by playing dead. When the droid forces finally vacated the sector he was in, he decided to make his sluggish escape. His brothers were all dead and he was completely alone on a once Republican planet.

Twilight was practically there and he would have to resort to the lights on his helmet to proceed. Yet at the same time, it was a risk he could not afford to take right now. The trooper decided to take a chance and try to hobble away on his better leg. Painfully, he stood up. His whole frame was wracked by misery, fatigue and agony but he forced himself to go on. All he had to do was flee and survive. He could avenge his comrades later.

Just then, he could hear a clanking noise through his helmet. The adrenaline in his body invigorated his senses and he knew exactly what this noise was: droids.

"Check over here," a B1 sergeant ordered its subordinates. "The General said to leave no surviving clones alive."

Cursing under his breath, the clone trooper fell onto his rump and attempted to crawl into the ruins of a home for cover. Rubble had completely blockaded the doorway and the windows were framed with jagged glass.

"No," he muttered, "I can't go like this...!"

"I hear something," a droid's electrical voice sounded.

The battle droids began to close in and the trooper saw the beams of light their flashlights emitted that were built into the blaster rifles. His heart began to beat faster as he could almost sense things were going to get worse.

He couldn't be more right.

There was a presence behind the clone that made the poor soldier forget about the droids completely. This threat was far more menacing and grim than any droid the greedy capitalists could dish out. At this point, he wouldn't even try to get up to vainly run away. It was hopeless and rather he exhaled, accepting death.

A huge metal talon smashed into his spine, crunching it even though it was concealed by the trooper's armor. Beneath his helmet, his eyes were shut and his expression was calm.

Seconds later, the battle droids rounded the street corner. General Grievous stood bathed by his troops' flashlights. Under his right foot, there was the freshly deceased survivor. The Kaleesh cyborg's eyes gleamed with the ferocity of a krayt dragon.

"You missed one," he said, digging his talons deeper into the clone's body. "I might as well do this little task all by myself." Grievous approached the droids. "Have you crossed any paths with civilians or soliders?"

"Negative, General," the sergeant reported. "All the organics we have come across are nothing more than sustenance for the scavenging fauna."

"Leave them be where they lay. This world is ours now and there is no way the Republic will be able to claim their dead. Sergeant, select two of your fellow droids and follow me. The rest of you go back to the encampments. We will finish the sweep of this sector and then resume our searches tomorrow."

"Roger, roger."

Grievous fingered the blades around his waist and within his war cloak. Not a lightsaber was out of place, just as he liked. In the darkening landscape, he preferred to not use his lightsabers to provide light so that he may see. The reason for this was because he liked to surprise any unwitting survivors and then promptly kill them. The high he got off the thrill of the hunt was amongst some of the rare traits he hadn't lost while he was transplanted into his duranium shell.

The three droids that accompanied Grievous walked behind him cautiously and gave him a fair amount of space. They were more than aware that their kind had the tendency to always tread on thin ice in his presence. The battle droids feared nothing except for him. Not even the threat of being melted down for scrap by the Republic was as horrible a fate as being on their leader's bad side. Even the daunting MagnaGuards at times felt intimidated standing beside their lord.

By now, any traces of sunlight were extremely faint and a half full moon hung in the sky. Despite the fact that smoke from the earlier battle should've called for a concealing and heavy evening, the moon and stars actually radiated enough light to make it bright enough for one to travel without a flashlight. Aside from all the carnage around them, Borealia's northern hemisphere was currently locked in a pleasant early summer evening.

Grievous and his droid companions prowled through the abandoned streets bypassing many dead, both droid and organic. Everything was quiet and was pretty much expected of a war torn area. The general was slightly disappointed when he was met with these barren conditions since he hoped to terrorize an already frightened and disoriented individual. Twenty minutes went by since the four embarked on their walk and they saw nothing of interest.

"Well, this almost seems to be a waste of time," sighed Grievous. "Let's head back to our respective side of the battlefront. We will continue tomorrow at dawn."

"Roger, roger," the droids said in perfect unison.

Then from behind him, Grievous heard a rock shift. The droids didn't seem to notice and they began to travel back to the Separatist encampment. His reptilian eyes narrowed and he stealthily grabbed for a blade around his waist. He was certain there was someone with him.

"There is no use in hiding from me!" he growled. "I know where you are!"

The half droid spun around with two lightsabers drawn. What he saw caught him completely off guard. He slightly loosened his hold on his blades. For a moment, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him.

Grievous was standing only a few feet away from a little Human girl. She was a tiny individual, hinting to the fact she must only be five years old at the most. From the green and blue light the blades cast in the darkness, he could identify her facial features: her hair was auburn and her eyes were ocean blue. Her skin was quite pale but that could be due to the fear she felt. Her eyes were huge and filled with innocence and life. On the outside, Grievous couldn't see her fear but he knew that on the inside she felt it.

The seconds that passed between them seemed to turn into centuries. Neither of them refused to look away from the other. At last, the girl's mouth parted and she spoke.

"Please help me…" she said almost inaudibly.

Grievous was aware that children died all the time in war. He was aware that he had issued bombings and attacks on civilians to induce terror in the eyes of his foes. But now that he had one standing right before him, looking into his eyes, he felt a little uncomfortable.

"Please help me, mister," the child repeated. Tears began to form in her eyes. "My Mommy and my Daddy died today. I'm all alone and I don't know what to do. I'm scared…"

He deactivated the lightsabers and reared himself up to his full height. His arms folded across his chest and he continued to study the girl.

"No," Grievous said coldly, "I can't."

They were standing in front of the shattered remains of her old home. This residence wasn't as badly damaged as the majority of the others but it had its share of destruction. He took a few steps forward, brushing past the little Human. Grievous stood in the doorway and looked around. To his right, there was a room whose roof had completely caved in. Beneath the rubble, he saw a hand sticking out. Then he exited the house and focused his attention back on her.

"Go into your home, little one," he said.

"My Mommy's hand is sticking out from the mess!" she said waveringly. "The roof fell on her and my Daddy is beneath it too!"

His patience was dwindling. His claws rolled into fists and tensed.

"I said no," Grievous exerted venomously. "I do not have the time or desire to help you. You should be happy that I am going to spare you. But if you push your luck, you'll be as cold and as lifeless as your parents." He extended his arm and pointed to the home. "Now go in and leave me be."

Obediently yet sorrowfully, the girl retreated into her home. She sat in her doorway cross legged and continued to watch him from a distance. Grievous walked backwards, making sure she wouldn't end up following him.

After putting some distance between themselves, the cyborg turned his back on her and retreated into the dark streets. He was glad the droids weren't with him during that little incident…