Jedi Trial (20 page)

Dooku made a rude noise. “They’ll never believe you.”

“Not all of them, no. But the Senate is a squabbling, democratic body. I know some of them are disposed to our cause, for whatever reasons, and others are, shall we say, not warlike. The broadcast will at least instill doubt into their deliberations.”

“You cannot kill the hostages, you know that.”

“Oh, but I will! Before I let myself be defeated, I will not only kill them, I will destroy the Intergalactic Communications Center. I’ve already made preparations to do exactly that. But don’t forget this: Reija Momen is respected and well known on Alderaan, as well as on Coruscant; she’s a handsome matron, too, an icon—everyone’s mother. To see her begging for her life, for the lives of her workers, will definitely let them know how serious I am.”

“Will she cooperate? After all, didn’t she assault you when you first took her prisoner?” Dooku’s smile was ice cold.

Tonith was amazed that Count Dooku knew about Reija striking him; he felt a sting of embarrassment at the memory of the blow, and a surge of elation. He could see that Dooku’s interest had been sparked by his proposal. “I was caught off guard; it won’t happen again.” He bowed at the image. “She will cooperate, I will see to it.”

Dooku was silent for a moment. “Very well. You may proceed.” He smiled. “You should have been a politician.”

“I am a banker—that’s even more vile.” Tonith laughed. “One more thing. When will I be reinforced?”

“Back to that again? You will be reinforced when you are.” A distinct tone of exasperation was evident in Count Dooku’s voice.

“I would like the record to show that not only have I fulfilled to the letter the plan you established for this invasion, but I would also have been totally successful if you had reinforced me as per our battle plan.”

“Have you been listening to anything I’ve told you?”

“I have faithfully carried out my end of the bargain. I have had success snatched out of my grip because you or someone—”

“Admiral Tonith, are you questioning my judgment? Defy me, question me, and you are dead.” Count Dooku’s hologrammic image wavered.

“Yes sir, I understand that,” Tonith said. “But I am no fool. No one else could have done any better here than I have, not even your vaunted General Grievous, the killing machine.” Hands shaking, he slowly poured himself some tea. He sipped eagerly and sighed, then wiped perspiration from his forehead with a sleeve. He knew a remark like that could get him killed, but at this point he no longer cared. For all his considerable faults, Tonith was no coward, and he didn’t like to be pushed around.

Count Dooku smiled. “In time. All in good time.

“Now. I approve your propaganda effort and your defensive plan. Put them into effect. Do not contact me again. I will contact you.” The screen went dead.

“Sir, they’re withdrawing. The droid army is withdrawing,” an astonished officer shouted at Slayke, who
had been observing the ships landing behind strong-point Judlie.

Slayke grinned broadly. “Yes, Lieutenant, and take a look at those ships: they’re ours. Talk about being saved in the nick of time!” Certainly the ships were those of the Republic, for each clearly displayed the distinctive black-on-white logo of the eight-spoked wheel within a circle. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful sight.” Slayke clapped the officer on his shoulder. “Tell our people to cover the droid retreat. I’m going out and see who’s in charge.”

Slith Skael moved defensively to protect Reija when Tonith entered the room where they were being held prisoner.

“Remove him,” Tonith told the droid guards, “but keep him just outside the door. I may have some use for him in a few moments.” The droids unceremoniously grabbed the Sluissi and dragged him, protesting, out of the room.

“What do you want?” Reija gritted.

“Are you being treated well?” Tonith smiled and took a seat opposite Reija. “Are we not looking after your welfare, madam?”

“If you can call murder, unprovoked warfare, beastly—”

“Shut up, woman!” Tonith’s voice cracked like a whip. “Listen to me very carefully. I’m going to put you on a HoloNet transmission to the Republic Senate on Coruscant.”

Reija started at the news.

“Sit there and be quiet,” Tonith snapped. “There’s
more. You will read a prepared statement. If you do not agree to this proposal, or if you try any tricks while reading the statement, I will kill your Sluissi friend. Here, read.” He handed her a short script. “Read it aloud.”

Reija glanced at the short paragraph and smiled. “I knew they would come,” she whispered. Her lip quivered as she spoke, and her eyes grew moist, but then she grinned broadly. “You’re in trouble, aren’t you?”

“Shut up, you arrogant …” Tonith visibly drew in his anger. “Read the statement. Read it back to me. Now.”

Slowly, Reija read the statement.

I AM REIJA MOMEN, DIRECTOR OF THE PRAESITLYN INTERGALACTIC COMMUNICATIONS CENTER. MY STAFF AND I ARE BEING HELD PRISONER BY AN ARMED SEPARATIST FORCE. THE COMMANDER OF THAT FORCE DEMANDS THAT YOU ORDER THE TROOPS NOW OPPOSING HIM TO WITHDRAW FROM PRAESITLYN IMMEDIATELY. FOR EVERY HOUR YOU DELAY ISSUING THAT ORDER, ONE OF MY STAFF WILL BE EXECUTED, ENDING WITH ME. I BEG YOU, FOR THE SAKE OF MY PEOPLE, TO COMPLY IMMEDIATELY
.

“Add a little more emotion toward the end. Otherwise, very good. Now we shall proceed to the communications room—”

“You’ll never kill all of us. You need us as hostages. As long as we’re alive the Republic forces won’t mount
a massive attack on the center, and you hope you can delay that until you’re reinforced.”

Tonith sighed and snapped his fingers. A droid entered the room. “Make ready to slice off her left ear,” he ordered. The droid seized Reija with one hand and deftly gripped her left ear in strong, mechanical fingers. Those fingers squeezed—hard—and Reija fought not to scream. “Now get her to her feet,” he commanded the droid. “We don’t want to keep the Senate waiting.”

They pushed Reija down the corridors to the control room. She did her best to get a grip on herself and to ignore the painful burning sensation that engulfed the left side of her head as the droid continued to put pressure on her ear. “You must know that the Senate isn’t even in session,” she gasped.

“No matter. We will transmit to the transceiver in the Senate Communications Room, and I guarantee you, one minute after it’s received the Chancellor will be calling the Senate into emergency session.” Tonith laughed outright.

A hologram pod had been set up in the main control room of the communications center, and a chair placed in front of the pod for Reija to sit in. She was unceremoniously thrust into it by the droid. As the droid retreated, she pressed a hand to her burning ear.

“Remember, my dear,” Tonith sneered, “if you try to get smart with me during the transmission, I will have that ear removed. I must say,” he continued pleasantly, “you look charming—or you will when you put your head down and compose yourself. The Senators will be impressed. Here is the script. Read it slowly and verbatim.
Wait for the signal from the technician.” He nodded to a technician at the controls.

Reija studied the script. “When will you begin the executions?” she asked.

Tonith shrugged. “When enough time has gone by without a response. When I’m ready. We may not have to execute anyone at all if you do this right.” He nodded at the technician.

“Begin,” the technician said.

Reija looked calmly into the middle distance. “I am Reija Momen, director of the Intergalactic Communications Center on Praesitlyn,” she began, her voice steady and well modulated. “My staff and I,” she continued, “are being held prisoner by an armed Separatist force. The commander of that force demands you order the troops now opposing him to withdraw from Praesitlyn immediately. For every hour you delay issuing that order, one of my staff will be executed, ending with me.” She paused for a full three seconds. The technician glanced nervously at Tonith, who, smiling, held up a hand indicating he should let Reija finish her statement.

“I beg you, for the sake of my people,
Attack! Attack! Attack!
” she screamed.

T
he flag of the Republic wrapped around his neck, Zozridor Slayke leapt gracefully over the ramparts the labor droids were erecting and looked around. His heart raced. For almost as far as he could see the sky was full of landing craft; others, already landed in vast clouds of dust and sand, were disgorging squads of armored troopers. An older human male with brown mustaches and brilliant blue eyes looked up as Slayke approached and nodded to his companions, who appeared to be studying maps or plans. They turned as one and stared at the battle-scarred figure rapidly approaching, a huge grin on his face.

Slayke stopped before the older man, came to attention, and saluted him smartly. As his hand came up to his right brow at a forty-five-degree angle a tiny cloud of dust puffed off his arm. “Captain Zozridor Slayke, commanding the force opposing the Separatist invaders of Praesitlyn, sir. I hereby offer my full assistance in your campaign to liberate this world.”

The older man, an embarrassed expression on his face, slowly returned Slayke’s salute and said, “Well,
I’m here to tell you!” He gestured at a Jedi standing next to a—a Rodian?

“Who is that?” Slayke asked, startled.

Anakin stepped into full view. “Jedi Anakin Skywalker, Captain Slayke. I’m in command of the landing force. This,” he said, nodding at Grudo, “is my sergeant major. I am very pleased and honored to make your acquaintance.”

Slayke looked over at the older man he’d mistaken for the commander, but that gentleman shrugged.

“The Republic’s so low on soldiers they’re robbing the cradle now, eh?” Slayke slammed a fist into his thigh. A cloud of dust puffed up. “What was your name again, Jedi General?”

“Anakin Skywalker, sir.” Anakin bowed slightly at the waist. “And it’s Commander, not General. Sir, I have heard a lot about you and am honored—”

“Look, Jedi Commander Anakin Skywalker, I have only about two thousand soldiers left of all those who landed here with me. We fought them hard and upset their plans. But you’re honored? Don’t talk to me of ‘honor,’ Jedi. We’re nothing but blood, guts, and sweat here and—” He shook his head as he looked over the landing force. “If there’s anything more useless in this galaxy than a Jedi’s brain, it’s a clone trooper. They’re one step above a droid—in fact, I’d prefer droids over these ugly clones anytime. You can’t tell clones apart, and they all have the same personality.”

“Now, see here!” the older officer protested. “We’ve heard quite enough from you, Slayke. I’m here to tell you!”

“Who is this, since he’s not the general?” Slayke asked Anakin.

“My quartermaster, Major Mess Boulanger.”

Slayke roared with laughter and pointed a finger at Boulanger. “You mean I was dumb enough to try to report to a blasted box kicker? Oh, that’s rich! Well, Major, rather you commanding this force than this beardless wonder here.”

Anakin held up a hand. “Captain Slayke, right now I’m busy landing my troops. We’re going to establish a defensive position. I suggest you remove your forces to this spot and consolidate with us. As soon as General Halcyon joins us—”

Slayke groaned and slapped his forehead. “Halcyon, did you say?
Nejaa
Halcyon? He’s commanding this fleet?”

“Yessir. As soon as he joins us—”

Slayke laughed. He turned his eyes skyward and raised both arms over his head. “Why is this happening to me!”

“Captain, I know you and General Halcyon, er, had some, uh, differences once—”

“Oh, you do, do you, young beardless Jedi?” Slayke laughed louder. “I never met the man.” He scowled. “I was too busy stealing his ship. So the best the vaunted Republic can do is send me a boy and a certifiable idiot with an army of—of—test-tube soldiers,” he sneered.

“We’ll do,” Anakin said shortly, controlling his annoyance with effort.

“All right! All right!” Slayke held out both palms. “I’m going back to my troops. You see that slight rise over there? That’s my command post. When
General
Halcyon gets here, you and him come on over and we’ll talk. I’m the one who’s been fighting the droid army. You want to know what it’s been like, you come on over and see me.” With that, he spun on his heel and stomped off.

“Whew,” one of the officers standing nearby sighed. “He’s what we call a hard case where I come from.”

“Well,” Anakin answered slowly, “he has been through a lot. Did you hear what he said? He only has two thousand soldiers left of the army that landed here with him? That’s a fantastically heavy casualty rate! No wonder he’s bitter.” He turned to his officers. “Let’s land the rest of our force, and when General Halcyon gets here, we’ll go on over and pay Zozridor Slayke a formal visit.”

The landing continued unopposed.

Supreme Chancellor Palpatine’s expression did not change as he watched the short transmission from Praesitlyn. “Reija Momen is from Alderaan, isn’t she?” he asked Armand Isard, who had been enjoying drinks with the Chancellor when Lieutenant Jenbean, the Senatorial Communications Center watch officer, delivered the transmission.

“I believe so, sir.” Isard also had watched Reija Momen’s statement without evident emotion.

“Hmmm.” Palpatine replayed the transmission. “A brave woman.”

“Shall we call an emergency session of the Senate? Or perhaps we should respond? The first hour in the ultimatum will be up soon.”

“To view this? I don’t think so. What good would it
do? The hostages? They won’t kill them. This is a bluff, and a blackmail bluff at that. The Republic will not, cannot, permit itself to be bullied like this. Lieutenant Jenbean,” he said, turning to the watch officer who had brought Momen’s statement directly from the communications center, “have you showed this to anyone else?”

“Nossir. I brought it directly here as soon as it was received. The technicians on duty have seen it, sir, but that’s all.”

“Good.” Palpatine paused. “Do you know Momen personally?” he asked then.

“Nossir, not personally. I know her by reputation. She is one of the most highly respected persons in our profession.”