Kuallue has not just managed to survive both Keldon's inquisition and Grievous's strike, but he may have just helped accomplish a far greater goal. It is true that Grievous has destroyed his STAP, but Kuallue is still alive. The explosion hurls him through the air, his heavy cyanogen tank spinning as it comes toward the ground. He tries to slow down his descent by using the tank's built-in repulsorlifts, but they were apparently damaged in the explosion, as they do nothing. Thus, the only way to cushion his fall is by using the Force, telekinetically pushing off against the ground and pulling air towards him so as to reduce his kinetic energy as gradually as possible.
If the collision shatters the reinforced transparisteel on the tank and his cyanogen starts leaking, he's as good as dead. The first thing he hits are tree branches, which do a good job of slowing him down as they bend and snap without stopping him entirely, and then he hits hard against the ground, falling over and entering a roll that leaves him very disoriented.
Although his flexible, lightweight Celegian body has no bones to break, his head is throbbing as he finds himself pressed against the edge of the tank. However, can barely focus on his injuries, as he can't help but notice General Grievous, the vicious warlord sailing blissfully above him. He may have won the battle, but he had to fly too high to do it. Now, he has been spotted by Kuallue's cavalry.
Grievous has no idea what's coming toward him, but Kuallue can see it: Two V-19 Torrents are diving in from above, their powerful laser cannons homed in on the unexpecting General. Kuallue cannot help but allow his triumph, his relief to flow out through the Force, no doubt being received by the general. It might have acted as a warning, but Grievous has no time to react.
In the blink of an eye, blue lasers spew out from the incoming ships, and an explosion rocks Grievous's STAP. Whatever damage he and his vehicle had managed to survive before was one thing, but starfighters pack a much bigger punch than speeders. Kuallue watches with delight as the remains of the STAP plummet and hurdle towards the ground. Grievous manages to drop out of his vehicle, but Kuallue notices that precious little from the general's body has survived: His entire lower half is gone, and what remains looks to be charred and burnt.
His arms do not flail or move as he falls, they remain stiff like the arms on a toy or the arms of a dead man. Perhaps that is what Grievous is now. Perhaps that is what he always has been.
As Grievous's body falls, it becomes obscured by the trees, so Kuallue cannot see the landing, but he feels it in the Force. The general's delicious frustration, his humiliation, his rage, it's all palpable to Kuallue. And it is delicious.
He remembers back to how Grievous had been so confident when first touched his mind, so certain of himself. Grievous delighted in Kuallue's sorrow, enjoying his own position of power. By comparison, Kuallue had felt empty, stripped of all he cared about. Now, it is Grievous who is the one lying helpless in that position. Whatever Grievous cares about is different from Kuallue's desires: He has no family, no noble causes. But there is clearly something that Kuallue has taken from the vicious General at this moment.
His pride? His reputation? His capacity to fight? His contributions to the Separatist cause? His ability to enact revenge on the other Jedi? It doesn't matter. Whatever it is, Grievous has now lost it. He lies alone in the cold, at Kuallue's mercy. Now he shall know how it feels.
Slowly, Kuallue moves through the snowy grass. Only three of his tank's mechanical legs are in working order, but it's enough to get him where he needs to go. He has all the time in the world; Republic troopers will land at some point, but no matter what, Grievous will die. Either he will make the final blow, or the clones will, or Keldon will.
However, as he trudges forward, the trees and sky around him begin to fade away. He can see his end goal, the body of Grievous, but his surroundings are darkened and full of shadows. As he goes over a hill and begins heading back down it, the ground becomes hard like rock. The light has completely faded, and Kuallue finds himself in the darkness of the labyrinth once more. With every step, he can feel the darkness closing further. Somewhere behind him, the unmistakable voice of Yoda warns, "Take you down the path of selfishness, attachment will. Let go!"
General Keldon is right next to General Grievous at the end of the tunnel, beckoning, "Fulfill your duty, Kuallue. You have made a promise to serve this Republic. You have made a promise to avenge your family."
But the darkness is palpable, he can sense the hatred, the desire for vengeance, the arrogance, the bigotry, the lack of compassion. But Grievous is there. The wounded body is right there for the taking. He takes another step, and the darkness of the cave envelops him even more.
Djinn Altis is somewhere behind him, shouting, "Kuallue, no! Grow into your loss; don't let vengeance consume you!"
From somewhere, not from Sadiya, a sinister voice cackles and advises, "Let the hate flow through you!"
Grievous is so full of hatred too; he can still sense the cyborg's devastated mind. So, this is how it all ends. I will not bring any more Jedi to justice. Instead, I am cast aside and abandoned by Dooku, to be mocked by the Meerians for this tactical blunder as I die here. So many battles were fought for nothing. Kuallue grasps onto Grievous's organs with the Force, he is now in position to kill the general. It was surprisingly easy, he reflects. Grievous came to him, left his place of shelter, and made what he now realizes to be a tactical blunder, leaving himself an easy kill for the Republic fighters with Kuallue as the bait.
He remembers a quote from his master, Bzan Medina, almost a century ago: "The Dark side will always be easier, but it is not stronger."
That other voice proclaims, "You are now… mine." If Celegians could shiver, Kuallue probably would, but he realizes that the Force could be making it any clearer. There is simply no way to kill Grievous right here, right now, without embracing the Dark Side.
To all of it, he responds back with a powerful message of rejection in his mind, and he lets go of Grievous.
Almost immediately, the cave is gone, the darkness replaced by twilight. He is standing beside the incapacitated Grievous, conscious but without both legs and unable to move his arms. Perhaps the life support systems on Grievous's cybernetics are failing him too, but Kuallue is no doctor, so he can't tell. He could never forgive Grievous for the atrocities that he has committed, but what he can tell his enemy is that he will not kill him. He is helpless, so he will be brought to Republic justice. He can see it now, with three large airspeeders flying overhead to investigate the fallen Separatist leader.
Grievous will be captured and put on trial, handled justly and not by a vengeful Jedi on this day. He doesn't say anything aloud, but Kuallue can feel his emotions in the Force, that Grievous would almost rather die here than have to sit through a Republic trial. He would rather die a warrior. It would be pitiable if not for all the atrocities that he committed. Kuallue reminds Grievous that this is what he deserves, and at that, he turns away. It is time to put his hate aside and get away from this site before Sadiya lands. Unless she somehow perished, which Kuallue never sensed, she will no doubt be coming as part of this task force.
She might not take Grievous alive, but if she makes that choice, the evil will be on her hands, not Kuallue's. It is time for him to leave.
He has not just avenged his family and fulfilled his promises, he has also rejected the Dark Side in the process, helping the Republic to capture General Grievous. It is like a mighty weight lifted off him, and he feels something that he hasn't felt in over a month since they died. Kuallue can at last feel that there is something right in the universe.
Behind Kuallue, a badly damaged General Grievous lies on the ground.
Missing legs are just the start of a laundry list of damages that would have Chiv busy for weeks, if Grievous were to somehow make it back to Selbar. That, however, seems extremely unlikely at this point, because his eyesight is one of the few things not damaged, and while lying on his back, he could see that the Republic has incoming troopers swooping in overhead.
Grievous, in all likelihood, has minutes to live, but there's nothing he can do about the predicament. Every motor on his body seems to be malfunctioning, as neither of his arms can move, and a portion of his mask has been blown off, exposing the sensitive remains of his face to Bandomeer's bitter cold. One of the plates over his chest has been warped and bent out of position, and every breath he takes is labored.
Repair one arm, he thinks, which should hopefully command the self-repair subroutines. If he can at least get some use out of one arm, he could fire a blaster or maybe crawl around. It's entirely possible that the problems in his limbs cannot be fixed, or that his self-repairing ability isn't working at all, but if that is the case, then there's nothing he can do anyway. Whether it's the mechanical parts of his lungs that have been damaged or what remains of his organic lungs, something isn't working right. He wheezes with every breath, and blood occasionally spurts out from where his jaw once was. Grievous would rather die fighting, but fighting is certainly beyond his capabilities.
That leaves running or hiding. Hiding is almost impossible, but running would be even more so. In any case, the first step is calling for help, which is normally very easy, as the computers integrated into his mind can control a secure comlink.
He can barely speak, but he must try. His voice is a croak, but he hoarsely manages to whisper, "Need… evacuation." With that complete, he turns his attention to finding a place to hide.
A shock suddenly startles him, and all of his limbs jerk slightly. Hopefully a sign that they can be repaired. The trees would be unlikely to work as a hiding spot. No way the clones are that dumb. The snow is far too shallow to burrow, and he can't see any caves. Only one place catches his eye: The nearby lake.
It has yet to freeze over, but it is no doubt incredibly frigid. His cybernetics should be able to supply enough oxygen for about 10 minutes, although it remains to be seen whether or not his injuries have compromised any of that capacity. They also have, in theory, a limited ability to generate heat, but that could again be compromised by the damages.
If given the choice between freezing, suffocating, or being taken prisoner, I'll take one of the first two.
His right wrist has a grappling hook that he should be able to pull himself along with, and he could potentially launch himself up into the trees so as to not leave tracks in the snow. It all depends on the arm being repaired. He does everything he can to will it into moving, but nothing happens.
Not too far away, he can hear the speeders landing. Fix it faster! I need to hide now! As if on cue, the computer suddenly reports into his mind. Repairing damage to spinal wires. Partial functionality to the left arm should return in approximately nine seconds.
Grievous can hear the ramps descending. He can't see them, but it sounds like they're closer to where the STAP landed and not where he jumped off. They sound maybe 50 meters away. I should be able to wait nine seconds. Those nine seconds feel like forever, but at last Grievous feels the limb able to move. Restore life support as able, otherwise repair the other arm, he orders as he uses that one working left arm to point the grappling hook on his right wrist. Eventually satisfied with his aim, he turns on the hook, hitting one of the tree branches high above.
He ascends fairly quickly, but this is the most dangerous part of his journey as he pulls himself upward. He can't see the clones through the thick trees, but that doesn't necessarily mean they won't be able to see him.
He uses his one working arm to push himself around the branches, and eventually he gets to where the grappling hook is attached. He is perhaps twenty meters from the shore horizontally and ten meters high up. A makeable leap if I had legs. Alas, it might still be possible with this grappling hook. There is another tree about halfway between him and the shore, so if he attaches his hook to its top, he should be able to swing over without hitting the ground. He'll have to be quick, as the gap between trees will probably make him visible as he traverses the gap. Would it have been better to crawl?
As he aims the hook again, he figures that the risk of being seen for a second now is probably far better than leaving behind an obvious track through the snow. His aim with the grappling hook is again true, and as soon it is secure, he begins retracting it. Falling off the branch and toward the ground, the hook stays taut and pulls him forward.
He sails a few meters above the ground before he collides with a lower part of the trunk, his cord tangled in the branches above. He tries to pull it taut, and a branch above suddenly snaps. Hopefully no one heard that. He looks to his right, where he can now see a handful of clones in the distance. None seem to be looking his way, and he has no idea how many more are unseen.
There's no time to retrieve the line. It's thin, hard to notice, and anybody could have left it. With that, he cuts it. Suddenly, he notices that his right arm has had function restored as well. With two working arms, he can now climb, and he decides to take advantage of that. There is one less gap between him and the water, and he clears some of it by climbing through the tree. Once he reaches the edge of the conifer's branches, it's only about five meters to shore.
He activates the secure comlink once more, and orders it to send his coordinates. He manages to mutter, "Coordinates here. Hiding in… the lake." He hangs from a branch with plenty of space below it and begins swinging, building up energy. Near the apex of his swing, he lets go, leaping toward the water, toward his only possible hiding spot. For a brief moment, he is airborne, totally visible if a clone is looking his way. The ground is coming towards him quickly, but so is that shoreline.
He barely makes it. The splash is loud, but that's just another risk that he has to take. Of more concern is the frigid, frigid water, which pours in through every crack in his damaged armor, directly chilling every part of his body in an instant.
Every instinct he has is screaming for him to climb out, but he knows that the only way to stay hidden is to go deeper. His heavy metal body will sink, so that will help obscure him, but he can only hope that the devices in his cybernetics can keep him warm and breathing. Cold water has penetrated through what's left of his throat, which screams in pain, and he can only hope that the cybernetics keep it from filling up his lungs. He takes a breath, and to his relief, there is air.
The cold remains, however. Every part of his organic body is freezing, the pain is so extreme that he cannot think of anything else but to immediately get out and get dry. He would be screaming if he could. He uses his arms to pull himself deeper beneath the waves, trying to get better hidden, but the pain of the freezing becomes more and more overpowering, ultimately consuming every part of his consciousness.
Within a few seconds of submersion, whatever part of Grievous once knew that he was supposed to go deeper underwater to survive is lost.
He cannot crawl back out, because his arms are going numb, the already damaged cybernetics being further tested by the water leaking in. The right arm goes completely still and the left moves only barely. He can feel his cybernetics doing their best to enable his short, sputtering breaths, but he is losing energy fast. His heart is slowing, and exhaustion is taking over. Slowly, General Grievous's world fades into blackness.
"You heard the general! We have to launch now!" TeenPat demands before the frustrated council of Separatist leaders, still gathered in the Demask's conference roomas they observe Grievous's mission. None of them seem to share his sense of urgency.
LilVas shakes her head, "Do you remember any of what just happened? We carried out a Grievous plan and lost all kinds of resources. There is no sense doubling down on this stupid gamble."
"We may have no choice in this instance," counters B9. "Per my programming, Grievous is to be treated as one of our most valuable military assets. Furthermore, as Supreme Commander of the Droid Armies, he has a wealth of knowledge about our armies and tactics that we cannot allow to be captured by the Republic." The droid manages an almost remorseful tone, as if it were up to him, that he would not rescue Grievous.
For the first time in a while, the chittering voice of Captain Mu points out, "And as Supreme Commander, his word is our command."
LilVas sighs and responds, "To you perhaps. Our loyalties here are only to Babteer Pil." She gestures at the other Meerians for support, but neither seem inclined to give it. WanThir considers her skeptically.
"Grievous is our only hope of survival," retorts TeenPat. "He's a brilliant commander. Need I remind you that he hasn't lost a single battle since Nadiem?"
"Only because he has consistently possessed massive numerical advantages," interjects B9, "Adjusting for the circumstances of his battles, he's an average commander at best."
TeenPat seems stumped for a moment, so he responds back, "There's no time to argue about this. Every moment we deliberate is a moment they could find him! Palti, we have to launch the remainder of our speeders now!" He looks to WanThir for approval, but it's Mu who speaks first.
"Actually, if I may have a different approach, considering that we just lost a good chunk of our speeders," the Sullustan begins, "Now might be a good time to deploy starfighters. The Republic has strong anti-aircraft capabilities, but their turbolasers are only line of sight, and the missiles have limited agility, which gives them a blind spot."
He points to the holographic map on the table, and at the cliff that wraps around Selbar's north and east borders. "My starfighters can launch northwards and drop down into the basin, hugging the side of the cliff. As you can see, the Republic has their surface to air turbolasers and missile launchers here and here," he again gestures, pointing out two red spots, one to the east of Selbar and the other to the south.
Neither would be able to fire a straight shot into Mu's proposed path. It's hard to miss the Republic artillery, which has been applying a constant bombardment to Selbar's shield ever since they arrived, so everyone is well aware exactly where it originates: All they have to do is just look to the horizon at any given time. Grievous's signal came not not far from the edge of the cliff that Mu wants to fly against, so that path would put them almost directly to where they will need to go.
"I am sorry, LilVas," WanThir begins, "But the others are right this time. Grievous is in charge here, and he insists on a rescue. Mu's route looks promising. I say we send a squad to fly alongside the vulture droids in a shuttle to pick up Grievous. I can have them ready to launch in five minutes."
TeenPat nods, although he corrects, "It's settled then. I can lead this mission, and I bet we can get going in three minutes."