Song: "Anakin's Betrayal" from Revenge of the Sith OST

Khetsuu gripped the controls so hard his knuckles numbed over. Fatigue caressed his body. You'll go back to Scipio to rest after you squash those bugs. You'll rest. Just push yourself a bit further.

His breath was stopped up at the mere idea that the Yam'rii were still trying to go after them. Hadn't the Republic at least tried to leash them? Wouldn't they notice such activity after such a fiasco?

The Republic just hates us. Every Jedi, every citizen, wants us dead.

He didn't even care that Amidala had tried to help them. She probably expected something in return, like the Banking Clan. Maybe some of Kalee's plants or animals, to take back to her own home. Her charity was built on her false kindness that politicians so often had.

Khetsuu's exhausted eyes drifted over the beeping communication link. A finger pressed the button to receive the call.

A female voice almost screamed, and he had to turn down the audio on his speaker. "Turn back now! Martyr, you are trailing smoke! I repeat, turn back now!"

"Tip the wing," Bent said from the back room. "I'll see how bad the damage is."

Khetsuu looked briefly over his shoulder with an aggravated sigh. "Air traffic control, who is speaking?"

"That doesn't matter right now! Turn back!"

A crash boomed, rocking the ship, and a foul odor filled the room. "Khetsuu!" a young voshrat said from the bay. "I know who it is!"

"Not now, Chaluul."

"But you were just wondering—"

"I said, 'Not now'!" Khetsuu roared. "There's something wrong!" The controls froze at his hands. The burning odor around them grew stronger.

We won't survive, but I will find her again. I'm going to Abesmi.

"Trust me, izvoshra," he said. "I can't be disturbed."

"Qymaen jai Khetsuu!" Bent shouted, but before he could enter the cockpit, his khagan slammed the doors shut.

Khetsuu shivered. A sigh exited his mouth. I'm coming for you, Ronderu. I'm coming.

"Turn back!" the air traffic worker screamed again.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

A deafening noise sounded from the main compartment. I'm next.

And resigning himself to his fate, he tucked his head as he was jammed against the wall into unconsciousness.

✺✺✺

The boom from the Martyr split Ronderu's ears in half. Her body shuddered against that of the priest as he gripped her for support. The supernova blinded her for a split second. White burned into her eyes.

She reached out with her mind, but slammed against a wall. He's unconscious. But still alive.

"I have to go out there," she said firmly. No emotions. None. He's alive. He's still in one piece.

Barely.

But if she tried to search the sea, she would inhale water and die.

"He's not dead yet," she whispered. "But he will be soon."

"I've alerted his employers," the priest said. "Do not worry. They will come soon."

"How soon? He'll drown." To put two and two together, admitting that he was on the verge of death....her mouth grew dry, like she'd swallowed a wad of rice.

"Not to worry. The cockpit was ejected after the explosion."

"After the explosion. After it had been destroyed!"

But just as the priest was about to reply, a great ship with a symbol she'd seen all too often zipped past them, flying low. The priest gave her a wry smile. "They are with us, Kummar. With us always."

To destroy us, Ronderu thought as it blew the trees past them and continued to leave a wake over the Jenuwaa Sea. She frowned. They arrived very quickly.

Perhaps....too quickly.

✺✺✺

"Kill me....please...." Grievous cried to San Hill from beyond the glass of a substantially large bacta tank. "I can bear to die....anywhere but in liquid like she did...."

"Master," an EV medical droid called to Hill, and the Muun curled his large nose as he swiveled his head to the side. "Bacta does not work for his skin. His scales have burned off—"

"No matter," Hill snarled softly. He stepped forward to the glass and placed a long, thin finger on the surface. Amazingly, Grievous had been found unconscious with a fractured skull and no amputations—those had been the work of the Banking Clan itself. His mind was as soupy as scrambled eggs, and he had perhaps six hours left....unless they went to Geonosis soon.

The door opened, and Shia spoke. "He survived?"

"He was found with his limbs missing, my dear," Hill lied, pointing to the form of Grievous within the bacta. His form, still wrapped in the linens traditional to those filthy aliens, lacked anything from the hip down. A mask was clamped over his jaw, that he might remain breathing.

A smile touched the Muun's sharp mouth; she was close to birth. If Grievous refused the procedures, being the organicist that most Kaleesh were, there were always other ways to get him to comply....

"These cuts are quite clean," Shia observed from beyond the glass. "Not at all what you'd expect from an explosion."

"We had to make a minor incision or two in order to clean out the shrapnel from his loss," Hill admitted. He soothingly slipped a hand beneath her chin and stroked the undersides of her small horns. "It looks like he will die soon. An unfortunate accident, but Kalee will be compensated."

Hill put a thin hand on her shoulder and steered her to the door. "We will send his ashes to you once he is gone."

"No," Shia whispered. "This is all my fault. I was too late."

"Not to worry," Hill intoned. "Kummar will soon be dealt with, and this was merely an accident. You are not to blame. You wanted to be a mother, after all."

She nodded, downcast, then began to weep. Hill signaled to the MagnaGuards to take her outside.

✺✺✺

Khetsuu's body quivered with pain all along his scalp, his body, his arms. Roaring, ripping pain combined with the misery of still being alive. He had prepared himself to rush into Ronderu's arms at Abesmi—to lock his mouth against hers as a spirit free of agony. And he....had....survived.

He forced his eyes to open. Red-brown scales flaked off his burned eyelids. He didn't remember the cockpit of the Martyr exploding. But then, he'd been knocked out before it had happened.

His eyes moved to look at his employer straight-on. His tongue was blunt as he spoke. "I told you to kill me."

Hill clicked his tongue. "You are far too important to die, young Grievous."

"My name," he said, the words laced with a growl, "is Khetsuu."

"The name does not fit a great warrior such as yourself," Hill said. "Khetsuu only entails a rule over Kalee. But Grievous....entails victory over the Republic."

"I have no desire to rule over thieves and murderers." The words scraped raw against his throat, and he forced a weak cough.

Hill showed his shark-like teeth. "Not a rule. You are so heavily bound by narcissism, young Grievous."

Khetsuu did not know how to respond to this accusation. "I....I can't be a mind without a body," he choked out after a time. "I can't live without war." Otherwise all I'll think of is her. "Living with breathing tubes, a wheelchair, a heart monitor—"

He trailed off when the Muun began to chuckle from beyond the glass. "How naïve. He really was right about you."

"Who was right about what?"

"You'll meet him soon enough; not to worry." He waved his hand. "You could survive for perhaps four more hours without a blood transfusion, friend. But I do hope you will consider otherwise."

All I want, Khetsuu wanted to say, is to die.

"Why do you wish for me to live?" he tried instead. "I know you don't care about Kalee. I know—"

The Muun tsked. "Such assumptions. I care for Kalee, and the rest of the galaxy. And you have a chance to help me."

"I cannot....help you anymore...." Breathiness punctuated his tone; spots wavered in his vision.

Hill stepped close. "War," he whispered. "We will war the Republic soon enough. Soon, after he gives the word. And you will help with it."

Khetsuu's heart banged. War against those dogs? "What good is an amputee in the heat of a battle?"

"Ah, but that is where you are wrong, for you will not be an amputee much longer—unless you still choose a shameful death, of course." Hill gestured broadly with a rail-thin hand. "We have been designing a new line of biotechnology that will make mortal flesh futile in comparison. Even for....Jedi."

Khetsuu's eyes snapped open at the last word. "Jedi? I could actually....war against them?"

"Yes," Hill said softly. "Imagine slaying them with their own weapons. Think of the revenge that you could get on their order. For your wives....for your children....for Kummar—"

"How do you know about Ronderu?"

The Muun gave a sly grin. "You murmur about her in your sleep. She was....so special to you. Someone you would die to see again, was she not?"

Khetsuu was silent, and Hill continued. "Would she appreciate you throwing your life away when you could be avenging her?"

Ronderu was never one to seek revenge. But the disappointment on her face when he would have met her at Abesmi made him tremble. She would have asked him how he died....

He cut off the thought. "I cannot," he said. "I have a duty to my family. I cannot be involved in another intergalactic conflict. The forces on Oben need me, and—"

Electricity rattled through him, and a cry escaped his lips. Hill's chuckling voice continued. "Your destiny is now far beyond these petty wars with neighboring planets."

"My destiny is to follow the code I took when I became khagan."

A moment's pause. "You have a family," he said, "correct?"

"Yes," Khetsuu said slowly.

"A wife, a child, and one....on the way, I believe. Yes, three precious people that you broke your back to keep alive—thanks to us. But of course, that could change. We have Kalee's fate in the palms of our hands."

"You...." Khetsuu was motionless. Cold. "You wouldn't dare. After all I've done to protect them, you would—"

"It is your choice," Hill interrupted. "I believe you are down to three hours now, unless we proceed with the experiment."

If I die now, they will die with me. Black spots swam in his eyes, bigger this time, and he took deep, labored breaths.

I will see them someday. I will see her again someday.

Vengeance on the Republic for Ronderu. For my wives and children.

Vengeance, vengeance, vengeance.

"You have three hours," Hill said. "Choose, young Grievous. Choose."

◈◈◈

Did you know....

● This scene is based on both Labyrinth of Evil and The Eyes of Revolution, but since there are details that contradict, I decided to rewrite the dialogue with my own touch. Also, Ronderu isn't mentioned in either one of them (either aloud or in Grievous' thoughts), and I can't be the only one who finds that wrong.

● This is also my favorite aspect of Grievous' Legends story: the fact that his cybernetics were his last act of love toward his family. Unknown Soldier implies that the Banking Clan had threatened to harm them unless he accepted the cybernetics (another thing missing in both accounts of this scene).

Tell me what you think....

● What will Khetsuu choose?

● How will the Banking Clan (subordinate to Dooku, by the way) control him from here?