The Fog of War/Part 5

"How could they say no?" Mali fumed.

"We went in there with no plan and a smattering of intelligence—which you aren't even supposed to have, incidentally—and just dumped it all in their laps and expected a mission," Tirien answered wearily. He still smelled of machine grease, which probably had not helped either. "How could they not?"

"If Gasald gets a toehold on the Run that close to the Core—"

"—it's going to leave the Republic and the Five Brothers worse off," Tirien cut him off. "Mali, I agree with you. Leaving Gizer in the Sith's hands leaves the Republic worse off.  So does the Council of Five being alive, or Valin Aresh.  Just observing that something is bad isn't enough."

"It seemed like enough for Master Kadych," Mali pointed out.

"Master Kadych lives to kill Sith Lords," Tirien replied, lowering his voice; they were alone in the passageway, but sound carried. "He's still only one out of five."

"Doing something will be better than doing nothing."

"Is that the Force talking, or Corellia?"

Mali bit back what he might have said, taking a few deep breaths. Tirien watched in silence, feeling Mali immersing himself in the Force; Tirien found it a curious sensation to observe a fellow Knight in meditation rather than a Padawan or Initiate. Two crewmembers and a fellow Jedi passed by before Mali resurfaced, gestured wordlessly, and stepped into a utility closet off the passageway. When Tirien had followed him in, Mali sealed the hatch.

"We need to do something," he said. His voice was more controlled, but if anything it was harder than it had been. "I feel that."

"Do what, Mali?" Tirien sighed in exasperation. "We don't have the resources at hand to take on Gasald's fleet or her troops on the ground."

"Gasald's still there," Mali pointed out. "Probably Karzded and Vaszas too. If we could insert and take them out, the whole calculus changes."

"Mali," Tirien said, staring, "you're talking about a targeted assassination."

"This is war, Tirien," Mali answered. "War isn't just who can blow up the most ships or conquer the most planets. It's selecting the right targets and striking when the opportunity presents itself.  I will not believe that we're abandoning the light side by assassinating Vedya Gasald and following it by letting her sack Milagro and enslave its population."

Tirien's stomach twisted. Killing in combat was one thing; every Jedi who survived long enough became a combat killer. With their months on Taanab, Narasi had already lost count of how many people she had killed by the time she turned fourteen. But deliberately selecting a fellow being to be struck down, like removing a piece from a dejarik board…

"It may not be the dark side," Tirien finally said, "but it's walking the line. I don't think the Council will go for it."

"I don't think they will either," Mali said.

"Then what—" Tirien cut off abruptly. He looked around their impromptu conversation spot, saw the tightness around Mali's eyes and the tense set of his jaw… "Mali, visiting the Crescentia to 'broaden your horizons' is one thing.  What you're suggesting—"

"—is what the Jedi are supposed to do," Mali finished obstinately. "Protect the innocent and oppose the Sith."

Tirien ran a hand through his purple hair, frustrated. "Mali, think this through. Really think it through.  We have no ships at our command other than the Second Chance and whatever you came in.  That's not enough to take out Gasald's fleet, or even board the Kiss of Death.  Even if we did get aboard we'd be slaughtered before we could make the bridge—there are only two of us!"

"There are four of us," Mali said.

Tirien's face hardened. "No, there aren't. At most there are three."

"Tirien—"

"Mali, if you're going I won't stop you, and I can't stop you taking Aldayr. Maybe, if you had some semblance of a plan, you might even persuade me to go with you so you don't die alone," Tirien said coldly. "But I will not throw away Narasi's life because you feel powerless to help people. I will not."

Green and yellow eyes bored into one another for a long moment. Finally Mali said, "This isn't just Milagro, Tirien. It's Corellia."

"I don't care that you're—"

"Not me," Mali cut him off. "The other Corellian Jedi. Master Dumiel's got them coming to hear about how the Republic won't protect Corellia and we have to do it ourselves.  If the Republic just stands by and lets the Empire get a forward base against the Five Brothers—not to mention cutting us off from half the Run and sealing up Bothan space in the middle—what do you think I can tell the other Corellians to compete with that?"

"If you're that concerned, why not inform the Council?"

"Yes, because nothing is going to keep dissident Jedi in the fold like having the High Council arrest them," Mali pointed out sarcastically.

Tirien could not contain a grimace as he remembered the searing fury in Javrin Flek's eyes, and his own conversation with Narasi afterward. He was silent for a long moment. "How many Corellian Jedi are there?"

"Seventeen, and that's just Knights and Masters from Corellia itself. Twenty-six if you count Jedi from all Five Brothers."

Tirien had never paid close attention to the Jedi Order's demographics, but the numbers were worse than he would have imagined. Grimacing, he said, "So Jedi threaten to break faith and we have to take this risk to keep them to the oaths they swore to the Republic?"

"It's not the world I'd make, brother," Mali commiserated, "but it's the one we live in."

Tell me, Tirien, if you knew in your heart you could act and save thousands of lives, but the Council told you not to, what would you do?

Once he had known the answer without having to think about it. Now…

"I'll think about it," he finally decided. "I need to meditate on this. This isn't a time for rash action."

"Or inaction," Mali replied. "We're leaving on third watch. Think fast."