Author's note: Okay, you win. It was indeed "Your proposal is acceptable" from The Men In Black. I don't know why I put that line in; I just can really imagine it in Grievous' voice.
Anyway, apologies for the slow update, been very busy. And also, sorry this chapter is short. But I will see this story through to the end this time. Thanks for all my reviews, much appreciated.
Aayla stared back at Grievous. The cyborg was impaled on her weapon, and he looked blankly at her, his mask looking both fearsome and mournful at the same time. After a second that seemed to stretch on for hours, electricity coursed through Grievous' duranium shell, overloading his circuitry in bursts of sparks. With a final throaty roar Grievous collapsed, sliding off Aayla's lightsaber and slumping to the floor.
Exhaustion and pain washed over the Jedi as well, and the smoking battlefield and barren rocks began to swim before her eyes as she swooned, falling over in the dust.
Aayla had no concept of how much time had passed when she awoke. Instinctively she flexed, but a spasm of pain crashed through her body, forcing her to stifle a scream. Slowly, painfully she opened her eyes and saw she was lying flat on her back in what looked like a medical bay bed. Her worn and ragged clothes smelled of bitter smoke.
Her vision focused and she could see white-armoured clones marching back and forth outside the room. Something loomed up next to her, and she risked tilting her head to get a better look. She eventually discerned Mace Windu standing over her, looking more dishevelled, haunted and tired than Aayla had ever seen him, even after the horrific struggle of Geonosis.
"Are you alright, Master Secura?" he asked somewhat tenderly, surprising her.
"Yes", she managed to croak lamely.
"Good. The battle is won. The Separatist army has fled Cosko, or at least what's left of them".
She sighed in relief and slumped back on the bed, "And where are we? How long have I been out?"
"We're back on the Dominator. You were unconscious for about four hours", Mace said slowly, somewhat sympathetically and answering her questions patiently, "Commander Bly picked us up and transported you here right away. You're still being treated for your injuries, but they're only minor and you should be on your feet again in a few hours".
Aayla noticed the dried blood on Mace's tunic, where Grievous have stamped his clawed foot on him in their duel, "Are you injured, Master Windu?"
He shook his head, "Just a little. Which is more than can be said for Masters Derturo, Jular and Hok, not to mention far too many clones. But we should be grateful. If it weren't for your actions Aayla, the Separatists would probably have won the planet and the sacrifices would be for nothing".
Aayla smiled weakly, "Thank you, Master Windu", she began to sit upright, "Where is the cruiser heading now…"
Something caught in her eye and she stopped in mid-sentence. The breath was knocked out of her chest and she nearly screamed in horror, as the memories of the day came flooding back to her.
"What is he doing here!" Aayla almost sobbed, pointing in desperate terror to the form of General Grievous.
Mace Windu looked at the cyborg. The bio-droid General was suspended in a vat of green bacta fluid, hanging in the life-giving liquid suspended from wires like a crucified demon. The fierce eyes were closed and he was motionless.
"What's wrong, Aayla?" he asked.
"What is he doing on this ship?" Aayla cried hysterically, "He's…he's evil! He killed Gwangi Hok and Jular and Deruro!"
Mace looked at her, slightly baffled, "We couldn't just leave him there, Aayla. He would be dead in minutes if we just left him lying there with that wound".
Everything flashed before her eyes again in a blur. Grievous towering over the helpless Windu: raising his saber for the kill. Aayla had leapt to her feet, ignoring the screaming pain in her body and lunging for the distracted murderer, stabbing him through the chest with her last ounce of strength. She remembered the look of pained shock in the villain's eyes as he stared at her before they both slipped away into unconsciousness.
Aayla sat bolt upright, breathing heavily, sticky sweat clinging to her cold body. Mace looked at her, concerned. He reached out and placed one hand on her shoulder.
"Aayla, do you need the medic? Are you alright?"
She looked at him with haunted eyes. After a few pained seconds she shook her head slowly.
"No…no thank you Master Windu. Please tell me where we are heading now".
Mace nodded, "We're heading back to Coruscant. Our work here is done: I'm ordering Republic workers here to help the people of Cosko recover, as well as ten thousand clones to deal with the remaining criminal activity. You'll be returned to the Jedi Temple in a few hours for recuperation. You've suffered more than enough, Aayla. You'll be on leave for a while".
"And what of Grievous?" she whispered hoarsely.
"Grievous? Well..." Mace paused and looked away, "I don't know if he's going to survive the hyperspace journey back to Coruscant. We have expert medics on board, but there knowledge of cyborgs and Kaleesh is somewhat limited. But I'll contact the Jedi Council and consult them on what to do with Grievous if he does survive. My best guess is that he'll be imprisoned on Coruscant".
Aayla nodded her head slowly, as if it was painfully heavy, "I see. Thank you, Master Windu. I'll be alright".
He rose to his feet and placed one hand on her shoulder gently before walking away, already barking orders to various clone troopers trotting around outside.
Aayla looked at Grievous. Grievous didn't respond. Green bubbles frothed around his lifeless form and around the deep scorched hole in his torso. The fearsome warlord was truly helpless, stripped of his white cape and the sabers it contained. Looking to her right, Aayla saw her own lightsaber and robes hanging from a hook. The clones had evidently retrieved them.
It was little mystery to the Jedi as to why she had reacted in such horror to the sight of Grievous again. Her feelings towards him were hardly Jedi-like. The very sight of him conjured up a rush of anger and fear. The casual, deliberately mocking way he had dispatched of her Jedi companions…
Dooku had truly insulted the Jedi with the creation of Grievous. He was everything the Jedi strove not to be. Harsh, sadistic, tyrannical, a warmonger and somewhat cowardly, at least when it came to his own safety. His very fighting style, a ruthless copy of the Jedi combat arts, was a mockery of their philosophies. His habit of collecting the blades of Jedi he had slain and using them against others. And to make matters worse, he was a servant of the Sith.
Aayla knew Grievous would survive the trip back to Coruscant. She had never encountered an enemy so difficult to kill. If he could survive Master Windu's sword techniques, he could survive this terrible injury. But what the future held for Grievous Aayla could not imagine.
Author's note: What, you didn't really think Grievous was dead did you? Hehehe. More soon hopefully.