Revenge of the Jedi/Part 56

"Thank you all for coming," said Nulu Thini, Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. "I'm due on the Senate floor soon, and they're going to have questions."

"I'll bet they are," said Nawsa Arodion.

Tem-Fol-Rytil glanced at her, then back to the Chancellor. "What may we do for you, Nulu?"

He felt comfortable using the Chancellor's first name only because they were alone with him—only Masters of the High Council with whom Nulu had served when he sat on that body, and not even the whole Council at that. Nawsa and Fosdi Sorfuless sat on either side of Tem-Fol-Rytil across the Chancellor's desk, while Mar Towla stood behind them and Tairni Tre'go paced to one side. As Grand Master of the Order, Tem-Fol-Rytil had to maintain an air of undisputed dignity and reserve, but part of him envied the Zabrak the small physical outlet for her frustrations.

"Is Gasald dead?" Nulu asked.

"Raven reports that they did not kill her," Mar answered. "A queer time to remember Jedi mercy, but there it is. None of them can say whether she was killed when the Kiss of Death exploded."

"And none of our forces have her," Nulu added. The Bith steepled his long fingers. "To the extent that they are, still, our forces."

"The forces the Tapani and Corellians contributed to Mali's fleet at Milagro were never Republic assets to begin with," Nawsa said. "And it's no good looking at me like that, any of you; Lord Conosti and Jendaya Rose will tell you the same thing, Chancellor, and Jendaya won't be half so polite about it if you push her."

Fosdi rubbed his hands together, shaking his head. "Darakhan's insubordination—"

"Mali did nothing of the sort," Nawsa insisted. "We ordered him to remain at the front against Aresh; he did."

"And because the Tapani and Corellian components of the Milagro fleet were obliged to remain with the mission no longer than they wished, it can not be insubordination that they left," Nulu finished; his ability to accept disagreeable political realities was one of the reasons the High Council had sponsored him for the Chancellorship. "Neither did any of us order Darakhan not to encourage them to leave."

Mar flicked his flipper hands; though he had never explained it, Tem-Fol-Rytil nursed a suspicion it was a Mon Calamari equivalent to a Human rolling his eyes. "A feeble distinction if ever one has been made."

"Mali isn't the point," Tem-Fol-Rytil cut in. "At the least, he's far from our most pressing one; he's a brilliant commander on the north front, and with Aldayr in Aresh's custody, I think there's no chance he'll leave."

"Agreed," Nulu said. "The Jedi who went to Allanteen are another matter."

Tem-Fol-Rytil waited, wondering which of them would be the one to name Kussam Bnodd as well. There was no escaping the fact that one of their own—a Jedi Master, no less than a life member of the High Council—had taken the majority of a Republic-owned war fleet to Allanteen, absent anything resembling authority, all to provide cover for the strike team. Tem-Fol-Rytil understood the Gand's reasons; they all did, and more than one Jedi Master was sympathetic, including Tem-Fol-Rytil. But the appearance of division among the Council Masters could not be tolerated; such a rift, if not healed, threatened to splinter the entire Order.

They all knew it, but none of them said Kussam's name. Perhaps they, like Tem-Fol-Rytil, wondered what would happen if one of the Order's most prominent Jedi Guardians was censured for what had turned out to be a victory. Tem-Fol-Rytil thought it would be schism of a different sort, and so he kept his silence like the rest of them.

"Narasi only followed her master," Tairni said. "We said it when Mali led them to Milagro, and it's just as true now."

"But Milagro raises the critical point," said Mar. "All of them should have known better, but Tirien did know better—he's been warned once before. If we don't sanction this conduct with severity, how many Jedi will follow his example?"

"Would you punish them for victory?" Tairni demanded.

Nulu shook his bulbous head. "A victory at the moment, but who knows what it will be tomorrow, next week, or next year?"

"I spoke to Jendaya this morning," Nawsa said. "The first impression among the Corellian hierarchy is that their accomplishment only shows how feeble the Republic has become."

"Exactly—"

"—which means," Nawsa continued, "that if we punish them, we only compound the offense."

"The Republic not only lacks the spirit to fight its enemies, it's going to sanction those who do have the courage," Tairni added.

"Yes. Precisely that."

Tem-Fol-Rytil's beacon transceiver vibrated. As he drew it out and plugged it into his datapad, Nulu said, "Candidly, no sanction we can apply to Harshee Nefkin will mean much of anything to her. She defends her sectors as Jedi Watchman; she'd do the same thing if Coruscant fell to the Empire.  She'll do what she feels right to protect those people until she dies.  Short of sending Jedi to arrest her, I suppose, but I can not condone that course."

"Nor I," Tairni said.

"No," Nawsa said. "Nor I."

"Raven and Tirien, then?" Mar asked.

Nawsa shook her head. "The Tapani Jedi have suffered serious losses; I don't know how they'll react to punishing one of their surviving members. If they blame him, perhaps not at all, but if they see him as a hero…and that's without considering whether they feel the same way about their security the Corellians do."

The beacon transceiver rendered the message into Aurebesh, and Tem-Fol-Rytil stared at the datapad screen.

Fosdi sighed. "And Tirien?"

Tem-Fol-Rytil cleared his throat, but it took him a moment to look up, by which time all eyes were upon him. "There's a complication there too."