Author's note: I know this chapter is here rather quick, but I kinda went a bit nuts on writing it. Exposition is my weakest point in writing, as you may have noticed in the last chapter and the opening chapters, so I'm somewhat keen to get it over with to be honest.
Thanks for any reviews, for sure.
"On your victory, congratulations we offer you, Master Windu", the Jedi Council Master Yoda was saying.
Mace Windu inclined his head to the shimmering blue hologram of the assembled and seated Jedi Council members, who were in the Council room back on Coruscant while he was still on the Dominator, "Much of the thanks should be directed to Knight Aayla Secura. If not for her actions, I would be dead and Grievous would be massacring our forces at this very moment".
"She deserves the highest commendation", Plo Koon observed.
Horned, bulky Saesee Tiin looked at him sidelong, "The Jedi do not offer rewards and trophies, Master Koon", he almost snapped.
Plo Koon shrugged, "No, but I'm sure the Senate will want to honour her if they hear news of her bravery".
"She deserves it", the tentacle-headed Nautolan Kit Fisto said with a gentle smile, "I have known Aayla for a long time and she never fails to impress me. How is she recovering, Master Windu?"
Mace ran his fingers over his chin thoughtfully, "Her injuries are superficial and will heal soon enough. However she seems to be a little disturbed by what she went through. I think she has seen enough military action for now".
Yoda squinted, "Suggesting temporarily removing her from active service, are you?"
"That can't be done!" Saesee Tiin looked alarmed, "She is a competent General. We need to press the advantage with as many forces and leaders as we can immediately".
"She will be of no use to anyone for some time", Mace Windu reasoned, "But this matter can wait for now".
"Yes", beautiful and elegant Shaak Ti intoned, "The matter of General Grievous is before us".
"Indeed", Mace nodded slowly, "If he regains consciousness it's likely that he'll be held prisoner. We Jedi do not imprison even the cruellest enemies. But I imagine the Senate will want justice done on him".
"Indeed", Kit said, "We should inform the Chancellor and the Senate immediately. After that, it's up to the courts to decide his fate".
The Jedi Council nodded in silent agreement.
"Thank you for listening to my report, Masters", Mace declared, "We should arrive back on Coruscant in two standard hours. Inform the Chancellor if necessary before then. End transmission".
The ghost-like translucent image of the Jedi Council flickered and faded away. Mace turned away and headed back to the bridge of the Dominator. Clone Commanders Cal and Bly were in conference with leading officers, still in their armour, when Mace approached.
"Any news on the clearing up of Cosko?" the Jedi asked.
Commander Cal saluted, "Yes sir. We've salvaged as much Separatist equipment as possible. The usual thing, sir. Droid factories, smashed battle droids, control facilities, droid tanks. But in the last five minutes our forces still on the planet contacted us and informed us of a new find that they'll be shipping to Coruscant as soon as possible".
"What is it?"
"You're going to like this, sir. It's Grievous' personal shuttle".
Aayla drifted in and out of uneasy sleep. She kept her back turned to the cyborg suspended in the bacta tank and did her best to tuck herself away from the cold of hyperspace travel.
The horror of the Clone Wars was beginning to catch up with her. Today alone she had seen three Jedi comrades, noble servants of the Force, butchered like animals by a manic droid commander. Countless troopers had been slain, troopers who had been ordered by an unknown commissioner to be bred for the specific purpose of being the Republic's cannon fodder.
The war was sick. Droid fought Jedi and clone. All of them were slowly being destroyed. Civilians were dying too, sometimes by simply getting in the way, on other occasions to simply demonstrate the ruthlessness of the Separatists. The Force was growing dark and the Jedi were fuelling that darkness by simply fighting to protect the Republic and the people they were sworn to defend.
What was happening to the galaxy?
Aayla stared up at the ceiling for what seemed like an hour. Cold tears ran down her face as the deaths of her comrades replayed themselves in her head over and over. The burning hole in Derturo's torso, the shocking impaling of Jular, and the sickening crunch of Gwangi's limp body crashing down the rocky cliff. It was all too much for Aayla.
She felt compelled to look at their killer. Forcing herself to face her fear, she raised her upper body out of bed and looked up. Grievous was there now, right in front of her, motionless and helpless. He could not return her gaze.
Aayla didn't know how the Sith had manipulated Grievous and in what ways they had transformed him into a cyborg. It was probably pretty horrific and tragic in its own right, but right now, Aayla wasn't feeling sympathetic. She looked into his skull mask intently.
Grievous opened his eyes.
His golden fiery eyes seemed to burst into existence against his pitted red skin and the bubbling green bacta. The narrow black pupils were narrow, failing to focus, staring directly ahead.
Aayla didn't move. Her body went numb with shock at the sight of those reptilian eyes again. For a moment the pupils were contracted, seeing nothing, then they dilated and Aayla knew the conqueror was awake.
The first thing he saw was those same brown eyes. Those same brown eyes that had been the last thing he saw before he lapsed into unconsciousness, overcome with pain and terror. Now he saw them again, gazing back at him as if no time had passed.
He tried to reach out and crush her, but his body didn't react. He didn't know where he was or what was going on, but revenge consumed him and he tried to sweep in for the kill again. Nothing happened. His invincible robotic body wasn't responding.
It was then he noticed the green veil over everything he saw, and the bubbles rising past his face. Bacta fluid. As his mind slowly returned to him, he realized he was in a vat of bacta, and judging from his lack of ability to even move, he was strapped down securely to stop struggling. All he could do was look left and right, or straight ahead. At the Jedi.
Aayla watched him. His eyes darted back and forth, taking in his surroundings, but his body couldn't move. He glared at her fiercely, his eyes narrowing in hatred.
A gurgling growl came from his vocoder, as if he was trying to speak but was unused to it after his spell of unconsciousness. He tried again.
"You…" he snarled, his already distorted voice warped even further by liquid he was immersed in.
She didn't reply.
Whatever he tried to say next was completely lost on her. He began roaring furiously, bacta frothing around his vocoder. The equipment holding him steady began to vibrate and shake violently, and for a moment Aayla was afraid he was going to burst out of the tank and lunge for her. However, the rigging was designed to keep him completely immobile, and no matter how much he struggled he was unable to even twitch a finger.
"Jedi scum!" Grievous howled, suddenly audible again, "Release me now!"
The clatter of boots on steel grew loud and Mace Windu ran into the room.
"Aayla! Are you alright?" he asked urgently, not noticing Grievous, "What's going on?"
"You bastard!" Grievous cursed at the sight of the Jedi.
Mace wheeled about to look at the prisoner, "What? You've already regained consciousness?"
"Apparently so, you gutless worm! Release me now or suffer the consequences!"
The Jedi Master stared at Grievous as if he couldn't quite understand the General's logic, then slowly shook his head.
"No, Grievous. This is the end of the war for you, and soon it will be the end for your Sith Masters as well".
In a cavernous meeting hall on the Invisible Hand, the mile-long star cruiser that served as the Separatist's flagship, Sith Lord Darth Tyranus addressed the leaders of the Confederacy of Independent Systems.
Except to them, he was not Darth Tyranus. They knew of his identity as a Sith Lord, but the name Tyranus had…connections with a certain detail involving the very foundation of the Clone Wars. Jango Fett would have been able to explain to them if he was still alive, but for now Tyranus was known only to them and the rest of the galaxy as Count Dooku.
The elegant man was elderly, but he looked anything but frail, standing over six feet tall with sharp, dignified features, an imposing brown cape draped over his shoulders and an intense stare. He spook in a smooth, deep voice of seductive power.
"For the moment, I am going to recommend that you all return to your individual home systems", Dooku was saying to the assembled Separatists, "Intelligence is investigating potential secure systems to fortify ourselves within in case of an emergency. But at the moment you are free to return home".
The various leaders nodded and sighed in relief. There had been some close calls for some of them, being pursued from system to system by the Republic Army. All of the major leaders were present: Wat Tambor of the Techno Union, San Hill of the Banking Clan, Shu Mai of the Commerce Guild, Poggle the Lesser the head of the Geonosian war machine, Passel Argente of the Corporate Alliance, and Nute Gunray the Viceroy of the Trade Federation and his aide Rune Haako.
"Any questions, ladies and gentlemen?" Dooku asked.
"Yes", Nute Gunray, dressed in his elaborate robes and triple-crested tiara, rose to his feet, "Why is General Grievous not here to meet with us as well? Does he think of himself as too important to waste time with the financers of his army?"
Dooku sighed internally. Gunray's animosity towards Grievous was no secret, and Grievous returned the hostility at least as intensely. It could be a little troublesome to deal with at times.
"The General is indisposed", Dooku said, spreading his hands in a placating manner, "He is currently securing the occupation of Cosko. He recently contacted me informing me that he was encountering resistance from the Republic. He will be done shortly, I am sure".
"Doubtless the losses will be high", Gunray snorted.
Rune Haako, being somewhat more rational than his superior, beckoned for Gunray to sit back down, "Viceroy, please. We should be content with Count Dooku's answer".
"I hardly think…" the Neimodian began, but was silenced by a warning look from Dooku.
"If you would care to leave, my dear friends", the Count continued, "I will contact the General shortly".
After a chattering and a pompous rustling of robes, the corporate-minded leaders left the meeting room. As soon as the door slid shut behind the last of them, Dooku headed for a hologram projector. He typed in a code and stepped onto the image transmitter, looking at a screen, waiting for Grievous' visage to appear.
"General, this is Count Dooku. Report on the situation on Cosko".
He waited. After a moment the image began to flicker and take shape.
"Ah, General. Is the battle over yet?"
The image of two clone troopers discerned itself. The pair of them were donning their helmets, staring directly into the transmitter.
Dooku started. Republic clone troopers? That could only mean…
He leapt off the image transmitter and hit the power button. The image of the clones faded instantly. Dooku stepped back, as taken aback as he had been in years. What had happened to Grievous? Killed, captured? Or at least his shuttle had been. But that shuttle was always Grievous' last means of escape. If things went awry in war, Grievous was rather quick to head for the shuttle and take off. All of the situations Dooku could imagine that would force Grievous to leave his shuttle to the Republic were bad.
This was a matter that required Lord Sidious' immediate attention.