Star Wars: Jedi Trial

by Sherman, David

  “Why would this Slayke and his army ever undertake such a desperate measure?” Ha’Nook asked.

  Palpatine shrugged and smiled before he answered. “Slayke is an idealist, a rare commodity in these times.” He smiled again and gestured vaguely, as though saying such people were incomprehensible. He cleared his throat and shifted his position. “Now you see why I called this meeting,” he continued. “I do not want to give our citizens the impression of hasty decision making, but we must act swiftly this evening. Also, it’s very important our people understand the gravity of what has happened and support us totally in our effort to retake the planet and support Captain Slayke—or rescue him, if that’s what is required. I need your help because you are all respected and influential members of the Republic who can convince others to put their support behind me in this. I know, I know, I can dispatch forces at will, I have the power to do that, but we are still a democracy and I don’t want later to be accused of exercising dictatorial powers or to have my decisions subjected to the sniping of armchair critics after the fact. I’m relying on you to convince your supporters and constituents that I have acted in the best interests of the Republic and that we cannot give up our struggle for freedom because of temporary reverses.”

  “And I would add this,” Isard put in. “Slayke’s is not a droid or a clone army. His soldiers are all volunteers and highly motivated individuals. He will give Tonith a run for his credits, no pun intended.”

  “What forces do we have that we can spare?” Ha’Nook asked.

  Palpatine shifted in his chair and stretched his legs. “The garrison force on Centax One, some twenty thousand clones.” He shrugged. “We shall have to commit them; they’re all we have that are immediately available.” Centax 1, Coruscant’s second moon, had been transformed during the early stages of the present emergency to provide a staging base for military operations.

  “So that means, Chancellor, that we shall have no reserve left to deal with any other contingency?” Ha’Nook exclaimed. “What if we need troops here on Coruscant? Chancellor,” she said, shaking her head gravely, “I think this is a serious strategic mistake.”

  The Chancellor steepled his fingers again and made no reply for a long moment. The others remained silent. At last, Isard leaned forward to speak, but Palpatine silenced him with a glance. “Senator, consider: once the Separatists have consolidated their foothold on Praesitlyn and reinforced its garrison there, we shall never be able to retake the planet. Instead of it being our eyes on that vital sector, it will be a dagger pointed directly at the heart of our Republic. We have no choice. We must act and we must do it now.”

  “Chancellor…” Ha’Nook leaned forward, a forefinger raised to make her point. “If that is the case, then why wasn’t Praesitlyn reinforced earlier?”

  Palpatine shrugged. “My mistake. I take full responsibility for not foreseeing this event.”

  “Tipoca City has promised us a large batch of reinforcements,” Isard began.

  “When will they be ready?” Ha’Nook snapped.

  “Two or three months.”

  Ha’Nook snorted and sat back in her chair. “I will have to think this over, Chancellor. It may require a full vote of the Senate. After all, we cannot endanger the security of—”

  “I was hoping to avoid that, Senator,” Palpatine interrupted. “Of course I understand what you are saying. But in times of emergency, decisions have to be made; leaders have to take on the responsibility of their offices and commit themselves boldly—”

  “And suffer the consequences of failure?” Ha’Nook shot back.

  “And accept the consequences, yes, Senator,” Palpatine replied. He had expected this from Ha’Nook. He nodded almost imperceptibly at Sly Moore, who had remained hovering silently in the background during this conversation. Only the Supreme Chancellor saw her smile. He rose. “Shall we sleep on it? Let us talk again in the morning.”

  “And who shall command this expedition?” Paige-Tarkin asked.

  Palpatine straightened, smoothed his robes, turned toward her, and smiled. “A Jedi Master,” he said.

  Jannie Ha’Nook was half expecting the call that came less than an hour after the meeting at Palpatine’s residence broke up. The fact that the caller was using a holoshroud to disguise his image did not surprise her, either. That technique was frequently used on Coruscant when politicians, lobbyists, or informants desired to keep their true identities unknown.

  “Is that you, Isard?” Ha’Nook asked, laughing.

  “I am not Isard, Senator,” the caller replied in a deep, gravelly voice as unrecognizable as the image dancing before Ha’Nook’s eyes.

  “Well, come straight to the point then. I haven’t eaten in hours.”

  “I am your ally, Senator,” the image said, “and I wish to help you.”

  “How?” This could be interesting.

  “You have been recognized as a person who is capable of being far more than a practitioner of base political intrigue. I can use my considerable influence to further your career in ways you cannot even begin to imagine.”

  There was a compelling, even hypnotic quality to the voice. “Go on.” Jannie twisted a lock of her hair around a forefinger and pursed her lips in thought. The more the mysterious caller talked, the more hair she wrapped around the finger.

  “There are great events about to take place in the galaxy. You have just come from a meeting where they were under discussion.”

  “How did—” But Ha’Nook caught herself immediately. Of course someone had been eavesdropping—despite all of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine’s measures to prevent spying. It was done all the time on Coruscant, and no one could completely avoid it; total security was never truly possible.

  “The invasion of Praesitlyn is but a ripple in a vast wave of history, Senator, and I am about to offer you a ride on that wave.”

  “Pray continue.” Ha’Nook was beginning to enjoy this conversation.

  “The events now taking place in the Sluis sector shall be resolved. When they are, someone will be needed to oversee the Republic’s interests there. Let me be frank: an appointment as ambassador plenipotentiary can be highly profitable.”

  “Ah,” Ha’Nook gasped.

  “Yes,” the voice rumbled.

  “You can arrange that?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “I can. But I need something from you first.”

  “I thought we’d come to that.” Ha’Nook smiled, but she was more than intrigued with the conversation at this point. Her mind was whirring. Ambassador plenipotentiary? That sounded about right to her. The work of a mere Senator, no matter how influential, could be immensely boring, dealing day in and day out with inanities such as bills for the improvement of the sewer system on Coruscant, or endless discussion of some silly resolution guaranteeing the religious freedom of some primitive species on some far-flung chunk of rock. After enough exposure to the routine business of the Senate in session, even important business failed to challenge or excite anymore. Here was a chance to really be in charge of something big!

  “Supreme Chancellor Palpatine asked for your support to dispatch a relief force to Praesitlyn. Can he count on you, Senator?”

  “Yes,” she answered without hesitation. What possible difference could it mean to me, she thought, if the relief expedition fails and the Separatists defeat the Republic? If I can’t be an ambassador, I can be an ally. Whichever way this war came out, Jannie Ha’Nook planned to be on the winning side.

  “Excellent! Stand fast in your support of the Chancellor, Senator, and I shall stand fast in my promise to reward you.” The transceiver went dead.

  On the other end Sly Moore sat back and smiled. Time now to send that message to the Jedi Council.

  9

  Jedi Nejaa Halcyon had no idea why he had been summoned so suddenly to appear before the Jedi Council. He had already been reprimanded for his failure. Perhaps, after the long period of idleness imposed on h
im because of the Scarlet Thranta affair, the Jedi Council was ready to reinstate him? He desperately wanted a chance to redeem himself. Perhaps this summons was it.

  Nervously, he stood before the entrance to the Council Chamber, smoothing his hair and beard, composing himself. The palms of his hands were sweaty. I’m reacting like a Padawan. The thought made him smile. He straightened his cloak and entered the chamber.

  Eleven of the twelve members of the Jedi Council sat in a semicircle just as he remembered from the last time he had stood before them. The huge windows framed a vast panorama reaching all the way to the city, its skyline reduced to miniature size by the Council Tower’s soaring height and the distance. Myriad black specks, aircraft of all sorts engaged in the affairs of the vast metropolitan complex that was Coruscant, flitted over the horizon. It was a clear day, and the sun washed brilliantly over the scene. To Halcyon this vista alone was worth a visit to the Council, no matter what message he was about to receive. He relaxed.

  “Welcome, Nejaa,” Mace Windu said.

  Halcyon bowed.

  Yoda smiled. “Since we last saw you, a long time it has been,” he said.

  “Yes, Master, too long.”

  “You have been well, Nejaa? You are rested?” Adi Gallia asked.

  Halcyon bowed again. “I am well.”

  “We have an assignment for you,” Mace Windu said. He gave Halcyon a searching look. “Supreme Chancellor Palpatine himself recommended you for this mission.”

  Halcyon tried not to show his surprise. “I—I do not know the Chancellor personally, but I am honored he should have such confidence in me, Master. Why did he recommend me?” he stammered.

  “You don’t know why the Supreme Chancellor recommended you?” Master Windu asked.

  “No, I don’t.”

  Windu nodded as though Halcyon’s negative answer explained everything. “Are you familiar with Praesitlyn in the Sluis sector?” he asked abruptly.

  “Only that we have an important communications relay there, but I’ve never been there.”

  Briefly, Windu explained what had happened. Halcyon listened with growing wonder; this was indeed a major assignment, and it was an honor to be entrusted with it.

  “You will be interested in knowing who it is that is in command of the opposing force,” Windu said when he finished describing the situation and the mission.

  “Yes, indeed. Nobody but a Jedi Master would dare attempt a counterattack like that, not unless he had a severe death wish.” He racked his brain, trying to figure out which Jedi might be in a location from which he could launch such a mission.

  “A Jedi he is not,” Yoda said, chuckling lightly.

  “Not a Jedi?” Halcyon asked, taken aback.

  The Council members exchanged quick glances.

  “That man is Zozridor Slayke,” Master Windu stated.

  There was a moment of silence in the Jedi Council Chamber.

  Then Halcyon cleared his throat and nodded briskly. “Captain Slayke is a good soldier,” he said.

  Yoda smiled, and the other members of the Council visibly relaxed. “To hear you say that is good,” Yoda said. He nodded at Mace.

  Mace Windu spoke in rapid, clipped tones, as if reading a set of orders. “Nejaa Halcyon, you will take a relief force of twenty thousand clones to Praesitlyn. Once there you will effect a landing of your army, assume overall command of the combined force, and destroy the Techno Union army there. You are authorized to dispose your ground and naval forces according to the battle plan you and your staff will devise en route to accomplish this mission in the most expeditious and effective way possible.” He paused. “You may select your own staff and designate whomever you wish to be your second in command. Time is short. When you leave here you will repair to Centax One, where your fleet is preparing for departure. You will effect that departure with all possible haste.”

  “I am honored to accept this mission,” Halcyon said formally.

  “This Slayke, work with him you can? Toward him no animosity you feel still over his stealing of your ship?” Yoda asked.

  Halcyon bowed deeply. “No, Master Yoda. Slayke is an intelligent and resourceful soldier. I was overconfident and foolish, and he exploited my weakness. I am glad,” he finished with a smile, “to have him as my ally, and I know together we shall smash the Techno Union forces.”

  Yoda nodded. “Of our Order, Nejaa Halcyon, a true Master you are.”

  “Do you have anyone in mind who might be your deputy on this expedition?” Windu asked.

  “Yes, Master. Anakin Skywalker.”

  Was that a hint of surprise in Windu’s eyes? The formidable Jedi Master was, as always, hard to read. But all he said was, “Why?”

  “He is brave, resourceful, and ready for a real challenge. And he is here, right now, in the Room of a Thousand Fountains.”

  “But this mission requires Jedi commanders, and Anakin has limited experience leading troops,” Adi Gallia said.

  “I’ve been watching,” Halcyon replied, “and talking with him. He’s been studying battlefield tactics and past battles. I believe he’s ready.”

  “Obi-Wan Kenobi’s advice have you sought?” Yoda asked.

  “I know Obi-Wan—we’ve talked about Anakin. He told me Anakin hasn’t had command yet simply because the opportunity hasn’t arisen, not because he’s not ready.”

  “Is no one else available?” Adi Gallia asked.

  “I am sure others are available,” Halcyon answered. He took a steadying breath before continuing. “Perhaps one or two other than you yourselves. But what if another emergency arises, one that requires a Jedi experienced in diplomacy, or some other solo mission? Whom will you send if I take someone more experienced, and Anakin Skywalker is the only Jedi left available?”

  Windu studied Halcyon for a moment, then nodded. “We leave the selection of your subordinates in your capable hands. But remember this, Nejaa Halcyon: this assignment is as much a trial for you as it is for young Anakin. More important, it is a trial for the Republic. On its outcome may rest the fate of the entire galaxy. May the Force be with you.”

  Anakin flexed the fingers of his prosthetic hand and regarded the fist it made. The prosthesis that had replaced his right arm and hand was even better than the original. The fingers were electrostatically sensitive to touch. The interface module linking the hand to his nervous system permitted the device to operate as would a normal human hand. The unit was activated by a power cell that didn’t require recharging. If I’d known the thing was going to work this well, I might’ve had the other arm replaced, too, he thought wryly. Now, if only it were covered in synthflesh…

  The phantom pains from the nonexistent nerves in the vanished hand bothered him occasionally, but they were the lesser of several other kinds of phantoms that were troubling Anakin just now.

  He rose to his feet. The grotto where Nejaa Halcyon had asked to meet with him was one of many situated at various levels throughout the Jedi Temple. The bench he’d been sitting on was shaded by the overhanging branches from the trees that grew around the pool into which a waterfall splashed; a light mist hung over the pool, condensing on the path where he stood. Altogether this was a very pleasant spot, but Anakin Skywalker was in no mood for pleasant spots this day.

  He walked down the path a short distance, did an abrupt about-face, and stalked back to the bench. He drove his right fist hard into the palm of his left hand. The sound of the satisfyingly sharp smack it would have made otherwise was deadened by the surrounding foliage. Anakin flicked moisture off his cloak. Voices? He whirled. Two Padawans, a boy and a girl, engaged in conversation, approached down the path behind where he was standing, oblivious to his presence. They suddenly burst into a peal of laughter. They saw him then, standing under the tree in front of the bench that was obviously their destination, and stopped suddenly.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, sir,” the boy blurted. “We didn’t know anyone was here.” The girl smiled nervously. They both knew who
Anakin was.

  Looking at the girl close up, Anakin was reminded—painfully—of Padmé. “I’m here on business of the Jedi Council. I hope you’ll excuse me.” Not exactly a lie: Halcyon was before the Jedi Council, so whatever news he had for Anakin would come from there—sort of. But his frustration at the unexpected reminder of his wife must have been too obvious in his tone of voice, because the young man’s face reddened.

  “Sorry, sir, very sorry,” the lad stammered. The pair hastily turned and left.

  Anakin suppressed a flash of guilt for having spoken to the young man so sharply, but then he shook his head. No. They’d have to learn their place, just as he had. And what was his place? He, too, was still a Padawan, even with all his combat experience and acknowledged talents—and the sacrifice of his arm in personal combat—and still he hadn’t heard a word about Jedi Knighthood. He’d been weeks on Coruscant, studying, practicing his skills. Under the circumstances he’d rather be spending his time with Padmé—No, no, don’t think of that, he told himself. Think of the future. Master Halcyon was going to offer him something—that had to be why he’d asked for this meeting. Coruscant was rife with rumors these days. Everyone was talking vaguely about new threats from the Separatist forces. Big things were afoot, and Anakin itched to be a part of it all.

  Jedi Nejaa Halcyon. Anakin had gotten to know him rather well during the time of his enforced idleness. Anakin respected Master Halcyon, but could not understand what had gone wrong on the mission to Bpfassh, which had ended in such great embarrassment to him and the Jedi Order. Specific details about the mission had been kept quiet, but still there was talk. Anakin assumed Halcyon had been recalled to Coruscant because the Jedi Council was trying to decide on his future employments, but he was too polite to ask. What really mattered to Anakin, though, was that Halcyon seemed to like and have confidence in him, and now that might be about to pay off.