With a gallery of Old Republic architectural studies on the walls and a seating area dominated by two chic LevitaRest couches, the room had obviously been decorated with an eye toward style rather than function. It also appeared far too tidy to be the office of a working judge. Atop the fashionable Freefloater desk, there was not a single document folder, nor even a reading lamp or datapad. In fact, the only indication that someone actually used the chamber on a regular basis was the lingering trace of a sweet, fruity perfume that Jagged Fel felt quite sure the room’s current occupant would not be caught comatose wearing.

Tall and regal, with long copper hair going to gray, the woman was standing with her back to him. Dressed in her usual uniform of slacks and a white faux-military tunic, she was gazing out a long panel of one-way transparisteel into a gray-walled courtroom that was as austere as the office was fashionable. The room was packed with Jedi, reporters, and other spectators, but the woman’s attention was fixed on the general area of the defense table, where a blond, stoic-looking Jedi-turned-“finder” sat next to her lumpy-faced attorney, a male Twi’lek named Nawara Ven.

Without looking away from the courtroom, the copper-haired woman motioned to a vacant spot beside her. “Head of State Fel, won’t you join me? This won’t take long, and I suspect you’re as interested in Jedi Veila’s arraignment as I am.”

“I have no doubt the proceeding will be quick, Chief Daala,” Jagged said. Because he had requested this meeting at the last minute, Daala had asked him to join her in the chambers of Judge Arabelle Lorteli. “But Tahiri Veila hasn’t been a Jedi for nearly three years.”

“So I’ve heard.” Daala continued to look into the courtroom, but Jag thought he glimpsed the hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth. “Then this should be interesting.”

As Jag drew closer to the viewing panel, he saw the Solos sitting in spectator seats behind the defense table. Han and Leia were at the far end of the row, while Jaina was at the other end, with six unoccupied chairs between them. Jag felt a stab of guilt, because he knew he was the cause of the rift in the Solo family. What he didn’t know was what else he could have done; it simply would not have been honorable to ignore his duty to the Galactic Empire by telling the Jedi what he had overheard about Daala and the Mandalorians.

As sad as Jag was to see the Solos so obviously at odds, he was not surprised to find them at Tahiri’s arraignment. They had been protective of her for the last couple of years, perhaps because her change of heart at the end of the civil war had saved a great many Jedi lives. Or maybe they felt bad about how Caedus had played on her emotions to lead her down a dark path. Or maybe they just felt close to her because of what she had meant to their son Anakin. Probably, it was all of those things.

Whatever the Solos’ reasons, Jag just wanted to convince Daala to drop the charges against Veila. First, it was the right thing to do. Second, helping Tahiri just might redeem him in the eyes of his future in-laws.

He stopped a pace from Daala’s side, then gently touched a knuckle to the one-way transparisteel. Although it was impossible to see through the panel from the other side, both Jaina and Leia instantly looked in his direction.

“No secrets from the Jedi,” Daala commented. “What do you imagine they will make of your presence here … with me?”

“I’m sure they’ll know exactly why I’m here.” Jag hoped that he sounded more confident than he felt. “To help you see the mistake you’re making.”

Daala looked at him and cocked a brow. “You don’t approve of my methods?”

“I don’t approve of using the judicial system as a political weapon,” Jag replied. “It smacks of tyranny.”

Daala appeared to consider this for a moment. Then her expression grew unreadable and she said, “We are all products of our past, Head of State Fel … but I see your point.”

A door in the back of the courtroom opened, and the sergeant of the guard called attendees to their feet. Once everyone had obeyed, a slender, blue-haired woman entered the chamber. With high, arching brows and a wide, full-lipped mouth, she looked like an attractive human woman of no more than seventy—save for a thin, too-long nose that identified her as a member of the Zoolli species.

As she ascended the stairs to the judge’s bench, Daala turned back to the courtroom. “We can talk about judicial independence after the arraignment,” she said. “Trust me, you won’t want to miss this.”

The obvious eagerness in Daala’s voice made Jag’s stomach sink, but if she was willing to talk about the abuse of power, he might actually have a chance of changing her mind about what she was doing here—as long as he didn’t anger her first by denying her a moment of vengeance.

“Very well,” he said. “You were kind to see me here, and on such short notice.”

“Without an agenda,” Daala reminded him. “That alone gives me a pretty good idea of what we’re going to be talking about.”

Jag nodded, but before he could answer, the sergeant’s gravelly voice came over the intercom’s courtroom feed.

“The Court of Jedi Affairs stands now in session, the honorable Arabelle Lorteli presiding. Be seated and be quiet.”

Even before the court complied, Judge Lorteli began to speak in a pinched, nasal voice that sent shivers down Jag’s spine. “I must say, I hadn’t realized my reputation was growing quite so fast.”

The remark was greeted by a round of good-natured chuckling, which immediately drew a surprised scowl from the judge. She glared down her long nose at the attendees, then shot an angry glance toward her court sergeant.

“Quiet!” the sergeant bellowed.

A stunned silence fell over the courtroom, and Judge Lorteli tried to hide the flush that had come to her cheeks by pretending to examine a data screen hidden behind the bench. Jag immediately had doubts about the woman’s worthiness for the bench, and the smirk that came to Daala’s face was all the confirmation he needed. The Chief of State had known exactly what she was doing when she appointed this particular Zoolli to the Jedi bench.

Once the color had drained from Lorteli’s cheeks, she looked up again and peered over the bench. “What I meant to say, of course, was that I’m a bit surprised to find this much interest in a simple arraignment.”

Without waiting for the judge to give him permission, Nawara Ven rose and began to speak. “That unusual interest is due to the public outrage at this blatant abuse of the judicial, Your Honor. The arrest of Tahiri Veila is nothing more than a cynical political ploy—”

“That’s enough for now, Counselor,” Lorteli interrupted, raising her hand to the Twi’lek. “And you are …?”

Nawara’s head-tails twitched so violently that they slapped against his back. “You know perfectly well who I am, Your Honor. I’ve appeared before you a dozen times this week alone.”

“On behalf of various Jedi,” Lorteli clarified. “Would that be correct, Counselor Ven?”

To Jag’s surprise, the judge did not seem irritated in the least by Ven’s retort, and Jagged began to have a bad feeling about what was going to happen in that courtroom.

Apparently, Ven had the same feeling, because his reply was uncharacteristically short. “Of course.”

“And the Jedi are paying you to represent Tahiri Veila?” Lorteli continued.

Ven drew himself up tall and still. “We haven’t discussed payment yet, Your Honor,” he said. “But for the past two years, Tahiri Veila has been consulting as a corporate … finder, I guess one would say. I understand she’s been very successful, so it was my impression that she would be paying her own expenses.”

“Not kriffing likely,” Daala muttered under her breath. “She doesn’t have twenty thousand credits to her name.”

Tahiri was far too well trained—by the Jedi and Darth Caedus—to show any surprise she may have felt at Ven’s assertion. But Judge Lorteli seemed momentarily stunned, as though Ven had deviated from a carefully rehearsed script. She let her gaze drop for a moment, obviously consulting her data screen again, then pursed her lips in resolve and looked to Tahiri.

“Defendant Veila, are you a Jedi?”

“No.” Tahiri answered without rising, a gesture of disrespect that suggested she knew as well as Ven did where the judge was heading with this argument. “Not at present.”

“But there was a time when you were a Jedi, correct?”

“Correct.”

“And that was prior to the recent Galactic Civil War?” Lorteli asked.

Before Tahiri could answer, Ven was leaning forward, bracing his bulk on the defense table. “Your Honor, I really must protest this line of questioning. My client’s employment prior to the war has no bearing on the plea she’s here to enter.”

Lorteli did not even look at him. “Your objection is overruled, Counselor Ven.”

“On what grounds?” he demanded.

“On the grounds that I haven’t accepted you as this defendant’s representative … and I am unlikely to do so.”

A murmur of surprise rustled through the courtroom, and Han Solo rose, his mouth open to shout—until his wife pulled him back into his seat and used the Force to pin him there. Jaina simply slipped forward to the edge of her seat, her angry glare fixed on Lorteli. Even Tahiri finally seemed to be taking a keener interest, leaning forward and propping her elbows on the table.

Once the sergeant of the court had issued the obligatory demand for quiet, Lorteli fixed her gaze on Tahiri again.

“Answer the question, Defendant Veila. Were you a Jedi prior to the recent Galactic Civil War?”

“Yes.” Tahiri shot a spiteful glance toward the bewildered Bith at the prosecutor’s table. “Before I committed the acts for which they want to put me on trial.”

“I understand that,” Lorteli said. “But in your capacity as a Jedi Knight, you were privy to a great many secrets that the Jedi Order might not want revealed in open court, were you not?”

“Oh, we all know where the Emperor buried his treasure, if that’s what you’re asking,” Tahiri said, slumping back in her chair. “I’ll be glad to draw you a map, if it will get these charges—”

The rest of her offer was lost to the din of guffaws and chuckles that rolled through the courtroom, and even Daala snorted in amusement.

“That one has guts,” she said. “I have to give her that.”

“What does she have to lose?” Jag asked. “A blind Gungan could see that you’ve had this court rigged from the start.”

Daala smirked. “Now who’s prejudging, Fel? Judge Lorteli is merely trying to ensure that the defendant has adequate counsel.”

Once the sergeant had restored quiet again, Lorteli glared down at Tahiri. “Shall I take that as a yes?”

“Take it however you like.” Tahiri glanced back at Han and Leia, then added, “But even if I do know any secrets, I won’t be sharing them with anyone in this room.”

Lorteli actually smiled at her. “That choice, of course, is entirely yours,” she said. “But since any such information you care to provide might very well have an impact on the disposition of your own case, I cannot allow Nawara Ven—or any other counsel with such a clear conflict of interests—to participate in your defense.”

The courtroom burst into cries of outrage, and this time Leia Solo did not bother pulling Han back down. Jag looked away, shaking his head in disgust.

“At least you had enough sense not to gloat in open court,” he said to Daala. “Please tell me you really don’t believe the Jedi—or their allies in the Senate—will respect what you did in there?”

“Of course not.” Daala deactivated the intercom speaker, then also turned away from the viewing panel. “But I had to send a message of my own. If the Masters believe they can intimidate me by threatening to dissolve the Order—”

“I wasn’t aware they had,” Jag interrupted. “Everything I hear suggests those apprentices resigned on their own.”

Daala rolled her eyes. “Please, Head of State, if you were really that naive, the Moffs would have killed you two years ago.” She started across the room toward the beverage center. “May I offer you something to drink? Polar water or fizzee, perhaps?”

“Nothing, thank you,” Jag said. Daala had stopped offering him intoxicants after their second meeting, a grudging acknowledgment of respect, since he had made it clear that he felt state business deserved clear heads. “But I wish you would reconsider what you’re doing here. It’s not the law that you’re enforcing.”

Daala opened the cabinet and, without turning around, asked, “Then what is it?”

“Your will,” he said. “And it’s obvious to more than just the Jedi. When you put Tahiri Veila on trial, and at the same time leave one of the architects of the coup free to retire in peace, it smacks of corruption.”

Daala paused for a moment, then asked, “You’re talking about Cha Niathal?”

“Of course,” Jag replied. “Tahiri and Admiral Niathal both changed sides. Do you really think you can put one on trial and let the other live in peace? The public will think you’re repaying Niathal for helping you become Chief of State. I hear the Senate already thinks so.”

“And it won’t matter that they’re wrong.” Daala nodded, then pulled a glass out of the cabinet and filled it with fizzee. “Perception is everything.”

Jag nodded. “That’s the nature of democracy.” To his surprise, Daala seemed genuinely concerned. Perhaps there was hope of dismissing the charges against Tahiri after all. “When you accepted the post, you promised to make the Galactic Alliance a just society for all beings. You can’t do that by using the courts as a political weapon.”

Daala turned, then sipped her fizzee and asked, “So what do you recommend?”

“Dismiss the charges against Tahiri and abolish the Jedi court,” Jagged said. “If a Jedi deserves to be charged, do it through the normal court system. If you truly want the Jedi to obey the same laws that everyone obeys, it’s the only way to make that work.”

Daala considered this for a moment, then said, “That’s certainly one way to approach the problem. I’ll give it some thought.” She took another drink of her fizzee, then looked at her chrono. “If we’re done here, I have to be back in my office for a staff meeting in ten minutes.”

Jag bit back the urge to press the matter by revealing what he knew about the Mandalorians. He was tempted to tell her that she was a fool if she believed that hiring Mandalorians was going to accomplish anything other than getting a bunch of people killed. But Daala had at least promised to reconsider her approach to dealing with the Jedi—and that was more than he had actually expected to achieve.

Instead he said, “There is one other thing we need to discuss.” He reached into his tunic pocket and withdrew the parasite droid Jaina had given him, then went to the beverage cabinet and laid it on the serving counter in front of Daala. “Do you know what this is?”

Daala picked up the droid and raised it to the light, then said, “It isn’t ours, if that’s what you’re thinking. Not that I wouldn’t love to eavesdrop on you and the Moffs, but, frankly, your sweeps have been too thorough.”

“I’ll send my security officer your compliments,” Jagged said. “But this is ours.”

Daala raised a puzzled brow. “And you’re showing it to me so I know what to look for?”

Jag smiled. “We’re not bugging you,” he said. “This is how Javis Tyrr has been getting his stories from inside the Jedi Temple.”

Daala scowled. “I know you don’t expect me to believe that you’ve been helping him.”

“Hardly.” Jag slipped the parasite droid back into his tunic pocket. “Lecersen has.”

Daala’s eyes lit with instant understanding. “The filthy Hutt slime! I should have realized.”

“You’re not the only one,” Jag said. “But the past is the past. The question is, what do we do about it now?”

Daala’s expression went blank. “We, Head of State? He’s your Moff.”

“A Moff who’s been playing you and the Jedi against each other,” Jag pointed out. “And I’m pretty sure it’s not just Lecersen. There are a lot of Moffs who have reason to strike at you, me, and the Jedi.”

Daala’s green eyes grew so cold they almost went blue. “Then I suggest you handle them, Fel.” She banged her glass down on the cabinet so hard that the fizzee splashed onto the CrystaClear surface. “If you like, I can put you in touch with a very good bounty hunter who would just love the job.”

Now it was Jag’s turn to frown in confusion. “You’re going to continue this vendetta against the Jedi?” he asked. “Even knowing that it’s the Moffs who have been stirring up trouble?”

Daala’s face turned stormy. “Let me assure you that bringing the Jedi to heel is my own idea, Head of State, and it’s anything but a vendetta. It’s high time that someone brings these vigilantes under government control and puts a stop to their incessant power struggles.”

“Power struggles?” Jagged gasped. “Is that who you think the Jedi are fighting? Themselves?”

“Head of State, a Sith is just a Jedi who’s gone off his meds,” Daala declared. “Why do you think Dark Lords keep popping up?”

Jag shook his head. “Chief Daala, you are so tragically wrong,” he said. “The Sith are real, they’re out there, and the Jedi are the only ones who can turn them back.”

“At least we agree on those first two points. The Sith are real, and they’re definitely out there.” Daala checked her chrono again, then started for the door. “But if we really want to protect ourselves from the Sith, it’s the Jedi we need to watch. History has proven that.”