That night, the General found himself running his metal fingers over his newest lightsaber. He remembered every face that coincided with his trophies, and he always remembered how they died. He saw Sahree Pellanor-Jinn look up at him once more, with wisps of bright red blood sinking the white snow. Grievous heard her last word to him as clearly as if she were there again.
Coward.
The General wondered why she chose to say that, amongst all the other things the Jedi had called him. None of them understood that with every battle, he chose strategy over the reliance of fighting skill. A battle with a Jedi was no different from a star ship battle, tactically speaking. For reasons beyond the General's comprehension, the Jedi considered it dishonourable when battling in a lightsaber duel with a few magnaguards to aide his success, whereas in space if they had more ships than the General's own, they would consider that a just battle. To fight fair in a life or death situation was foolish, and honour was for the weak. There were only losses and wins, and Grievous did not take pleasure in losing. The Jedi could call him whatever they liked, he did not care. General Grievous already had an impressive collection of lightsabers, and had plenty of space for more.
Author's Notes
That's it! That's the end.
This story isn't just about General Grievous and a Jedi surviving in the wilderness. It's about the different opinions characters may hold in the Star Wars universe. On one side, Jedi struggle to suppress their baser instincts, and when they finally embrace it, they perish. On the other, General Grievous justifies his cowardice and loss of honor as means of success.
I hope you have enjoyed reading To Win a Lightsaber as much as I have enjoyed writing it, and feel free to leave a review! I love making my stories better or hearing praise, so don't be shy.
14-02-2012
LoniganTheDragon