Hondo burst into vivacious laughter.
"You two have got to be the craziest pair I've ever had the misfortune of knowing!"
Grievous shoved the pirate king face-first into the transponder and held him down with one hand wrapped into his tendrils. Winter winced for Hondo and wondered if it was necessary for Grievous to be so rough with him. True, he invaded Grievous' home, abducted them both, and tried to kill them all in the matter of a day so Winter honestly didn't fault Grievous for his outrage, but Hondo was no use to them dead. She felt it her duty and for both their sakes that she caution the fumigating droid against accidentally killing their hostage.
"Don't you think you're being a bit much," she inserted sheepishly as Grievous forced Hondo's faced further into the transponder.
"This is too much? After what he did? Have you already forgotten he tried to kill you," Grievous retorted.
Winter drew closer to Grievous and gently laid a hand on his shoulder. "No, I certainly haven't forgotten...but he didn't kill me. So how 'bout going a little easier on him? We need him alive and in one piece, remember?"
"I'd listen to your girl there, droid," Hondo chuckled.
That didn't help Hondo's case. Grievous spun the pirate around and lifted him into the air by the collar of his coat. Winter lunged at his arm without hesitation and made every feable effort to restrain him from making a very big mistake. The whole situation was going south fast.
"You hate him, I get it! I hate him too! You need to think about what you're doing! Killing him isn't going to get us home," Winter pleaded as she struggled against Grievous' unwavering grip.
Grievous' hearing deafened. His determination was real and hell-bent on choking the life from Hondo. His talons coiled deeper into his collar until the pirate's own garment was strangling him. It would have been done if not for Winter's words and pleads, namely, one phrase in particular that managed to pierce General Grievous' durasteel exterior: Home.
--
The trees were still and the wind stiff. Occasionally, a rushing, isolated breeze would break the calm and gracefully caress the grass under Qymaen jai Sheelal's muddied boots. It was a most welcome sensation. Kalee was hot this time of year and the excessive dryness hard on his already rough and abrasive skin. The young Kaleesh warrior closed his brilliant gold eyes and took a second to appreciate the coolness; it was going to be a good day.
The underbrush shrunk obediently under his trudging feet as he moved further off the path. He needed to get to the rendezvous point before dusk; he was meeting up with Ronderu later and he feared her scathing wrath if he dared be late.
Ronderu lij Kummar, a warrior unlike any he'd known and a Kaleesh woman of surpassing beauty; he was awed to be her husband. He couldn't believe that she'd even accepted his marriage proposal only eleven months since! Now, a little one on the way, Qymaen's dreams for a bright, joy-filled future were becoming reality! That's why this mission was, not just the last, but also the most paramount; it would change the course of the war and finally rid Kalee of the blasted Yam'rii! One last fight, he thought to himself, and they would achieve peace.
Qymaen Jai Sheelal emerged cautiously from the brush, his Outland rifle cocked and held close to his upper torso. His steps were careful and precisely timed as he bore onto the vastness before the Jenuwaa Sea. He surveyed the landscape intently for his mate; where was she?
He grinned; this time she'd been the late one. Qymaen strolled out casually to the shoreline and gazed into the expanse of clear blue that lay before him. It was humbling.
A few minutes passed when finally Ronderu appeared a short distance down the beach. Qymaen's eyes lit up at the sight of her. He watched as she neared him, her thick, dark hair flowing gracefully in her wake. How had he been so blessed, so favored by their gods, to belong to such a creature? He didn't know and certainly wasn't about to question it. Rather, he ran to meet her and the two warriors shared an intimate moment within the other's embrace.
Qymaen placed a soft hand upon Ronderu's stomach. She returned his sentiment with a gentle hand upon the side of his battle mask.
He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, not noticing that, as soon as he had done so, her hand dissipated into tiny particles of sand and, along with the other remnants of her form, we're carried away into the Jenuwaa Sea.
--
"Listen carefully, pirate, because I will not be repeating myself," General Grievous hissed.
"You're going to call your bridge. You're going to instruct them to land this piece of junk at the nearest port. And then," he pulled Hondo closer still, "you're going to run."
The severity in Grievous' voice chilled even Winter. The Zeltron woman slowly let go of her grip and backed away. She certainly didn't want to be on the receiving end of the oncoming storm. Yes, he'd been angry before and she was often the target of such anger, but this time seemed different. How it was different, she didn't know. It was understandable that General Grievous had reached his breaking point; the situation kept jumping from bad to worse. She empathized with him as, she too, grew ever more weary.
Hondo Ohnaka was silent and very, very still. He suddenly realized that he was the one staring down the barrel now and General Grievous was about to pull the trigger.
He gulped down his fear and reached for the transponder.