The road was long, rocky and cold. Sahree felt safer around the rocks, as it would prevent the snow-burrowers attacking from below. The General did not ask for breaks, but he clearly needed them. He would begin to hold things for support or he would hunch over, letting is head sway. Sahree thought he might collapse a few times, but he pressed on through both his nausea and his trademark coughing. Sahree felt disgusted every time an unusual sound came from the General's respiratory system. In his bad fits, she couldn't help but screw up her face a little. They said nothing to each other, and they both preferred it that way. They could concentrate on the dangers of the woodland, past the sound of Grievous's wheezing of course.
It was midday when Sahree and General Grievous decided to take yet another break. They sat on a rocky area, but it was surrounded by normal snow. Sahree had noticed that the terrain was becoming softer as they pressed further into the east.
The General sat hunched over, trying to keep his chest warm. Sahree stared at his damaged eye, which had appeared to have gotten worse since she had properly looked at it yesterday. The slit that was meant to be his pupil was practically a messy inkblot, and the yellow in his eye had almost been completely dominated by the red broken blood vessels. There was no doubt in Sahree's mind that the General was slowly dying out here, and if they didn't reach shelter soon, she would too.
Perhaps the brain damage had finally gotten to him, but Grievous said slowly, "Why haven't you tried to reclaim… Your lightsaber?" He was a little taken back by hearing his own slurred, slow words, but the question hung in the air.
"You need it more than me, General," Sahree said, a little surprised that he had actually spoken.
The General appeared to cough, but he was actually laughing, "Foolish Jedi."
"If you think I need a lightsaber to defeat you, you are mistaken," said Sahree, "I could squeeze the life out of you right now with sheer will."
"Ah, but… that is not the Jedi way," Grievous mocked, still slow with his speech.
"I think Republic interrogators would get more use out of you alive," Sahree glared.
"Assuming… they catch me…"
"You are confident for a broken droid," Sahree said.
Grievous got angry, "I am not a droid." Suddenly his head shot up.
Sahree was beginning to suspect the Kaleesh had better instincts than humans, because it took a couple of seconds before Sahree began to felt a disturbance in the force.
"They are burrowing under the earth," Sahree whispered, "They've only been following from afar… But they're getting more confident."
The General stood up, and continued to walk to the east. Sahree was a bit annoyed that he did not talk about a defensive strategy against them, but she remembered that they were still enemies. So she followed him. She hadn't noticed it before, but the General had begun leaking fluids from his chest, leaving a trail of drips.
"I think you're attracting the local wild life, General," Sahree pointed out. Grievous turned to her, and looked where she was pointing. He allowed the fluids drip onto his hand. He let out a startled sound. Something fell over Grievous's eyes when he looked at the trail behind him. It was only for an instant, but Sahree thought she saw despair. The General swivelled his cape around and stalked forward.
"No more breaks," the General ordered, "We walk until nightfall."
Sahree shrugged, "Lead on, General."
And true to Grievous's word, they did not rest until nightfall. Sahree regretted not insisting that they take breaks, but her pride got the best of her. She didn't want Grievous to think she was weak. Breaks would've benefitted the General too, as he was moving into his own wheezes now, and his coughs became dry and violent. Sahree found herself having to redirect the General when he unintentionally began walking to the north instead. However, he suffered from dizzy spells less often now, and in the rare moments that he spoke, his speech became less slurred.
It was when they reached a shallow stream at sunset that Sahree had stopped, and decided to call it a day. Though he hid it well, the General was relieved. He just wanted to drape his cape over himself to get warm. The cold certainly wasn't a natural place for him.
"We should get a fire going," Sahree said, rubbing her numb hands together. The General moved towards a tree, and took out Sahree's lightsaber. He promptly hacked off a couple of branches and threw them in the clearing where the two planned to spend the night. He sorted them into piles, for the fire now and to feed the flames throughout the night. He then dug the lightsaber into the middle of the fire pile, setting it alight. It was all incredibly quick that Sahree hadn't bothered to help him at all. She was thankful though, and when the flames had come to life, she warmed her hands in its heat.
Grievous sat down opposite to Sahree, letting his cape cover him. He stared at the fire. Sahree checked on his eye. While it was still abnormal, the pupil had begun to shrink back a little, but the colour of his iris was now almost red. She was a little distracted at the fire that danced in his eyes, so she couldn't observe it properly. Her eye then moved down to what she could see of his neck and his chest plate. It fascinated her that there was really a living being under all that metal and robotics. She wished she understood more about the mechanism that was keeping Grievous alive. Her curiosity built even more when she imagined what grotesque face might lay under the mask.
"General, if I may," Sahree began, "Why are you…" She found it difficult to finish. She thought it was stupid to ask, and hoped Grievous would ignore her.
The General glared at her, with that same intense loathing she had seen before, "I have the speed and strength only a machine is capable of. I am… an improved warrior."
Sahree blinked, "With an army of battle droids? Seems hardly fit for a warrior."
"Do not test me, Jedi," the General snarled, "I lead the most powerful droid army in the galaxy. I serve under the most powerful Sith Lords your order has ever encountered. Need I say more?"
"Heavens no," Sahree said as if it were torturous just to hear him talk, "you can explain it all to the Republic interrogators. I have little interest in you talking about trivial things such as power.
Grievous let out an unimpressed grunt, "Of course you care little for power. You can summon it whenever you please."
Sahree didn't know what he meant at first, "You speak of the Force."
"What else?"
"I sense much resentment in you, General," Sahree said, closing her eyes so she could concentrate, "You obviously swing lightsabers around for a deeper reason other than the humiliation of killing Jedi with their own weapon."
Grievous narrowed his eyes, "Jedi scum, think they know everything."
"I didn't hear you disagreeing," Sahree said, raising her tone playfully.
Grievous was about to reply with more insults, but he was weary and decided that the Jedi wasn't worth the effort. He just lowered his head and stared at the fire, exhausted. In the corner of his eye, he saw a steady stream of his fluids trickling out. There was nothing he could do about it, but he knew sleep would at least slow it down. Still gripping Sahree's lightsaber, he rested his head on his chest, and let his mind clear itself.
Author's Notes
This chapter is a filler for the action that is about to follow. I wanted to take a break from the action to explore how Grievous and a Jedi would converse in a more civil way rather than exchanging witty banter during a lightsaber duel. I haven't really introduced any new information about his past. As I have explained at the start in my rave, Why Fan-Girls Shouldn't Hug General Grievous, I like how the Clone Wars decided to keep the General's past ambiguous. When Grievous talks about being an improved warrior, I refer to George Lucas explaining that Grievous was envious of the Jedi because he wasn't force-sensitive, hence he could never become a Sith Lord. I stick to that origin story more than anything, even though Lucas is a bit of a toss-pot these days.