Oh my.. I think I think I'm setting new personal records for not updating this story! I'm so sorry about that! Things have been extremely chaotic for me these past few weeks, so I just haven't managed to get this chapter written. It's relatively short in comparsion to the others, but I hope you can forgive me :)
Chapter 51 – Where Loyalty Lies
With a powerful Force blast, Mace pushed the cyborg back, trying to put some distance between the droid general and himself. Metal claws scraped across the asphalt as Grievous caught himself, his snake-like eyes narrowed to slits.
Rex stood to his side, blaster at the ready but not firing. The man knew it was pointless to pull the trigger unless the cyborg was distracted.
"You were lucky last time, Windu," Grievous bellowed, lightsabers circling around him as he stood up, "But now… you and your clone won't get out of here alive."
Using the wall of a house, the metallic monster swung down on him again. Blocking the attack, Mace ducked under the blades.
Grievous was known for imitating his opponent's fighting skills, making the supposed strength his own. However, this applied primarily to aggressive styles designed to attack. That's why they had sent Obi-Wan against Grievous. Copying a perfect defensive style did nothing for the cyborg.
It was different with Mace's own fighting style. It fed on the power in the dark side of his opponent. But with Grievous, there was nothing, no aura, no presence. He was a mechanical construct, created for destruction. The general might have been a real living being once, but there wasn't much left of it.
It was less than ideal conditions, but Mace would not give up. Not after everything that droid and the Sith had cost them. Steadying his weapon in his hand, he took his stance. He waited for Grievous to attack, trying to see through the cyborg's pattern. The droid coughed and hacked as he approached, his claws leaving marks in the ground. If this killing machine could grin, it would, Mace was sure. Grievous darted forward, two lightsabers swinging down at his sides, while the other two waited menacingly for their turn behind his back.
It was a setup. That was how Grievous had caught Obi-Wan. Using two sabers to trap his opponent in a saberlock, taking advantage of the mechanical muscles not getting tired - and then striking with the other two. He had only one advantage over Obi-Wan. The alley they were in offered more space. More room to dodge, to keep his distance.
Mace continued to draw back, blocking the blows that came too close. He knew he was losing to much ground – and that the wall behind him was coming closer. The cyborg seemed to know that as well and continued to drive him backwards.
His back hit the wall and Grievous stood towering above him. Cracking a laugh, he let the four blades come boring down at the now trapped jedi.
But before the lightsabers could hit their mark, shots rang out. Blue blaster bolts whizzed through the air and hit Grievous in the back off his neck. Sparks flew from the area where the hit had occurred.
The jedi used these valuable seconds and slipped away.
Grievous growled and stood frozen on his spot, as if calculating and processing the situation. But then the cyborg suddenly sprinted off again, his movement a little stiffer than before. Like a spider, he climbed the next building facade and disappeared from their field of vision.
Mace quickly rejoined Rex as he stretched his senses to locate the droid. There was no signature in the Force, only the faint whisper of approaching danger.
"What's he up to?" hissed Rex through clenched teeth, scanning the rooftops with his eyes.
"I don't know. Stay alert," Mace countered, the purple blade raised in front of him in a covering manner.
The Force did not give him a clear picture.
Suddenly, a beeping sound rang out from above their heads and Mace jerked his head around to locate the source. It fell directly between their feet. His eyes widened.
"Grenade! Move!" he yelled, hoping Rex was fast enough, and grabbed the thing with the Force, trying to fling it away from them.
The explosive device detonated in midair with a deafening bang, knocking him off his feet. For a moment he lost his orientation as his world went white. But then he hit the ground hard. Black stars danced before his eyes; his ears rang. A little stunned, he heaved himself onto all fours, trying to get some clarity by shaking his head. His lightsaber was in front of him, so he quickly grabbed it and stumbled to his feet. The air was filled with smoke, making his eyes burn.
Where was Rex?
Mace coughed and raised an arm in front of his mouth. His weapon in hand, he slowly advanced, searching for Rex's signature.
It was somewhere in front of him, even though he wasn't able to see the man. Just as he moved forward, a metallic clank joined his own steps. Mace halted in his tracks, squinting through the smoke.
A green lightsaber activated itself, illuminating the gray veil that surrounded them in a way that reminded him of the green mists of the Witches of Dathomir's magic.
A dragging sound joined the metallic footsteps and the Jedi Master took a leap back, activating his lightsaber. A rasping and bellowing laugh escaped Grievous as he emerged from the smoke, his claws gripping Rex's neck tightly as the clone desperately tried to undo the iron grip squeezing his throat. The soldier's eyes appeared disoriented; Mace noted.
Must have hit is head.
Cursing under his breath, he steadied his stance. "Let him go, Grievous," he snarled.
The cyborg cracked a laugh. "What's this clone to you, Windu?", he droned in a tinny voice, tightening his hold on Rex's neck, "They're all the same, are they not? Programmed to follow orders. They're expandable – like droids."
Mace bared his teeth. "Every life is precious."
Grievous tilted his head. "And yet the Jedi have an army made of clones - bred for war."
The cyborg looked down at Rex. "Loyalty. That's what I was once told distinguishes our droids from your clones."
He laughed and looked back at Mace. "Ironic considering your own army has now contributed to the extinction of the Jedi. So many lives you have already taken. What does one more matter."
With mechanical force, the cyborg hurled Rex against the nearest wall, where the soldier went down motionless.
"Rex!" shouted Mace, but before he could approach him, Grievous attacked him, four lightsabers set ablaze.
Eyes narrowed to slits and anger bubbling under his skin, Mace jerked up his saber. "You'll regret this."
The adrenaline pumping in his veins, he drove the cyborg back, the purple lightsaber barely visible to the naked eye. Grievous was put on the defensive, and before he knew it, a hilt of one of the lightsabers was severed with a hiss and clattered to the ground in nothing more than a pile of scrap metal.
Roaring in rage, the droid general thrust one of his claws forward to grab the Jedi, but the man merely whirled around, momentarily disappearing from his view before suddenly reappearing behind him.
Reinvigorated with new energy, Mace dropped into the fray. The Force hummed in his ears, but her song was not calm and peaceful. She was loud, upset, mourning her lost children. He had always walked the line between the dark and light side. His fighting style fed on strong emotions, whether positive or negative. Now he used his anger, his determination.
His hand closed into a fist, willing the Force to gather around Grievous' chest. With a metallic screech the metal casing bent inwards, nearly punctuating the organs beneath. The cyborg screamed in pain, clawing at his chest, before he blindly struck at the Jedi Master with his remaining three sabers.
Grievous was a beast unleashed now. Snarling and growling, he came spurting towards Mace, swinging the lightsabers with a force and fury the Jedi had rarely witnessed before.
He ducked underneath a particularly aggressive swing, feeling the heat of the blade singing the skin on his head. Mace stabbed his own saber forward, before changing directions again and attacking from below, aiming at Grievous' feet.
The purple blade hit metal, drawing a smoldering line through the joint, before it disconnected from the rest of the cyborg's body with a squelch.
The Separatist general tipped forward, now forced to deactivate two of his weapons to catch himself on his arms. But before Mace could deal the finishing blow, Grievous suddenly whirled around shifting his weight from his remaining leg to his arms – and kicked at the Jedi's chest with all his might.
The air was brutally forced from Mace's lungs as the metal claw collided painfully with his chest. Now he knew how Obi-Wan must have felt. He let out a wheezing sound as he was pushed back and lost his balance. A little dazed and gasping for air, he went down.
A scraping sound told him that Grievous was about to attack again. Out of reflex, he forced himself to roll aside, moments before the green blade dug into the ground where his head had been before.
Still lying on the ground, he quickly turned onto his back, his ribs protesting loudly. He found himself face to face with Grievous, his reptilian eyes staring into his brown ones.
But before he gave Grievous time to attack again, Mace leapt to his feet and charged. Using the Force, he continued to demolish the armor that hid the cyborg's innards until one of the panels came loose. As focused as he had been on the task, his opponent's green blade caught him on the upper arm, burning the fabric of his robe and nipping the skin beneath it.
Banishing the pain to the back of his head, the Jedi swung the blade to finish it. Hissing and smoking, he sank the blade deep into Grievous' heart. The green blade came swinging at him rather weakly one last time, but Mace caught the arm, holding it still in an iron grip as he stared into the cyborg's eyes from which the life slowly vanished.
"It's over, Grievous," he panted, "You've lost."
With a choked attempt of a breath the cyborg collapsed, the remaining lightsaber in his claw deactivating and rolling on the asphalt as it hit the ground. Mace stared at the crumbled form in front of him.
It was over. The Jedi Killer was dead. He had never liked how the HoloNews had given nicknames to both the Jedi and the Separatists. Of course, those very nicknames had led people to have hope in them, to trust them. But it had stoked fear at the same time, Grievous had left a lasting impression with his path of destruction. And it hadn't helped that the news also dubbed him as the Butcher of the Jedi. It had led to governments losing faith in the Republic, fearing that the Jedi could no longer protect them from this machine.
Mace turned away, his face contorting. He didn't have time to think about this. Quickly he walked over to Rex and knelt down next to the fallen soldier.
He carefully took the blond's head in his hands so that he could look at him. "Rex...?"
The clone's eyes were still moving disoriented from left to right and when he spoke, he was barely understandable. "G..nral…."
"Yes, stay with me," Mace said and was about to shift the man so that he was leaning against him, when an armored hand shot up, clawing at his forearm.
"No…," Rex slurred, "back… hurts."
Mace halted and cursed under his breath. He was no healer. And Vokara had fled together with the younglings. In the distance he heard footsteps. Their time was running out. Soon the troops would find them.
Noticing that the soldier was slipping towards unconsciousness, he stretched out with the Force and tried to connect to Rex's mind.
"You need to stay awake, Rex," he tried verbally, his brows furrowed in concentration.
" wn't go..nywh're… ou need… leave," the soldier mumbled, before he lost the battle and went still.
"Rex!" Frantically, he shifted his hands onto the man's neck, searching for a pulse. It was faint and drastically becoming slower.
Clenching his teeth, Mace made a decision. "I won't leave you behind."
Trying to brace the soldier's spine as much as he dared with the Force, he pushed his arms underneath Rex's back and knees and stood up. The man was a deadweight in his arms, the head lolling limply against his chest. His bruised rips twinged painfully as he started to move, but he could not afford to stop now.
Mace stepped over the pile of metal which had once been the infamous General Grievous, without sparing him another glance.
At the beginning of the war, Mace had not known how to face the clones. This army had contradicted everything the Jedi stood for. He had not enjoyed becoming a general. He had initially kept his distance from his men, not being able to bear that these men were produced to fight their war.
Mace had known that other generals like Skywalker and Kenobi had a much closer relationship with their battalions. For a long time, he had not understood that. Stoically clinging to the fact that the Jedi Code forbade them to form attachments.
It was only when one of the soldiers saved his life, leaving him dead, that Mace had changed his views. He still heard the last words of the dying man.
'We were made to serve you - to protect you.'
To protect.
Somehow that had struck a nerve inside him. After that, he had tried to get to know his men - starting with their names, ending with their strengths and weaknesses.
He had sworn to protect those under his watch.
His grip tightened on the man in his arms. He knew that he would have been dead if Rex had not shot at the right moment.
He needed to catch up with the others. Rex's life depended on it - if it wasn't already too late.
Back to Coruscant, we are. Grievous might be dead now but it still doesn't look good for their escape. I'm still thinking about whether I'm going to let them make it - or not :D