Song: "The Immolation Scene" from Revenge of the Sith OST

Arna entered Ronderu's room the next day after she'd dressed in her old uniform. "The Council wants you."

"Why?"

"You can ask them," he said, jamming her hands into a pair of cuffs. "Come on."

"Pouting won't get you your way," she said primly as they slowly walked down the hallway to enter the elevator.

If I only have a little time left, she thought—as much to Arna as it was to her—now may not be the best time to hold grudges.

The Republic has not done anything special to me before. All they bring me is pain.

The elevator door opened, and she stepped into the ornate circle of the Council chambers. A bald human with smooth brown skin leaned forward and spoke. "Greetings, ambassador."

"Your greetings are meaningless to me," she spat. "Probe my mind for the information you need, and let me return to my people."

Murmurs echoed amidst the Council members. The man spoke blithely. "Do you know who I am?"

"I know enough."

"That is not a viable answer. I am Master Windu, Jedi Master of the High Council."

"Flashy."

"Gray, you are dismissed," Windu said, gesturing to Arna. He shoved his hands in his robe and left the room swiftly, and Ronderu was left at the mercy of twelve masters who held prejudice against her people and home.

✺✺✺

After she had recounted what she knew, the Jedi passed many gazes to each other, as if communicating with each other silently through the Force. After a while, a Togruta woman with a red-and-white face spoke. "What makes you think that Count Dooku wishes the death of your friend?"

Ronderu clenched her fists, shivering. "I've had dreams of the Krath droid I described," she said. "It sat on the throne of Kalee, and the khagan wasn't there. Dooku said he would deal with Qymaen soon, and he had the plans for the droid. Burkhadaar, can't you see it? They will come for him soon!"

"You are not Force-sensitive," a Nautolan man pointed out. "Your dreams may not mean anything."

"I'm able to sense the Force." Her voice was smooth. "I was tested by Jocasta Nu herself. I just can't wield it—don't the Jedi know of people like that?"

"What do you think of this, Master Yoda?" the Togruta said, addressing the short green alien in the middle of the circle.

"Experience reliable premonitions, do you?" the withered Grand Master inquired, his sleepy green eyes fixed on her.

Ronderu pressed her lips together. "I used to get visions when I was young of things I had to do to survive. When I did them, I lived." But at a cost, her mind added.

As the Jedi Masters spoke, she contemplated the implications of Separatist control on Kalee. The Republic may have made a terrible mistake by turning Kalee against them. Would our people rally around a dictator like the Krath warrior? A society of warriors against the Republic....

Or would they revolt because he killed their khagan?

But if Qymaen's death was staged as an accident, like Jenuwaa was for me....they may not know better.

Her hands clenched. "Masters."

All eyes turned to her. "I must ask for permission to return to my homeland. I have a good relationship with the khagan—" this was fudging the truth, but the difference between had and have was only two letters— "and can warn him. Surely you understand that they cannot be allowed to rally around someone like Dooku."

"We cannot allow you to return," Windu said. "You have brought back no reliable evidence."

No reliable evidence.

She scowled. "Or maybe you don't want to look at the evidence. This is the same mistake you made with Kalee—only this time, it actually may involve radicalizing a people who will butcher themselves on Republic knives!"

The Grand Master grunted. "Too late, it is."

A beep sounded in the center of the room. With a sour look, Master Windu allowed the hologram to materialize. Arna Gray stood in the center of the room as a translucent image, speaking in a cold voice. "Council, Ord Mantell is under attack."

"No." Ronderu's lips moved silently. She did not even dare to speak. Already she tasted the bloodshed, the screaming, sobbing from the one who was committing these attacks....

In her name.

Master Windu frowned. "What sort of attack?"

"Of political nature, it appears," Arna said, tapping a pad—apparently checking the HoloNet for updates. "Targeted against the bank—a sentient shooter and eight droids of some sort."

"Calm, you must remain," the Grand Master said to Ronderu, but the words came from far away. She was yanked underwater, drowning—her respirator working to prompt waterlogged lungs to breathe, her pacer urging a cold heart to beat.

Arna's eyes betrayed a triumphant spark. "The shooter has been identified as a Kaleesh male in his twenties. He claims to be the khagan of Kalee, and to act under the authority of the Intergalactic Banking Clan."

✺✺✺

"He attacked innocents," she murmured. "He....he actually...."

She would not believe it. She would not. It couldn't be Qymaen, who would never provoke the Republic of his own accord. Qymaen, who had longed for peace for every moment she'd known him—who would sooner impale himself than harm innocent people.

"Jinn," Windu called sharply. "Focus."

Her voice shook. "I can still reason with him. Why did he attack? And what the hell is the Intergalactic Banking Clan?"

"A corporation, the Banking Clan is," Yoda said, gentleness in his gravelly tone. "Collect overdue debts, they often do."

A breathless laugh forced its way from her lips. "A collections agent? My Qymaen? Fighting those who would rather surrender than die?"

"That is the least of our concerns," the Togruta said, bringing a crimson hand to her chin. "What perplexes me is why they only use force now. Usually economic sanctions are enough for their clients to comply."

Windu stood. "We will discuss this later. You'll be taken to the lower levels until your escort arrives."

The elevator door opened, and two temple guards entered, carrying her by the elbows out of the room. It was clear that the Council would not listen to her, since she hadn't been trained in their arts. No matter how angry her Jedi friend was at her....she had to persuade him to sneak her back to Kalee.

✺✺✺

The door to her cell was unlocked after a time, and Arna walked in. "Ru...."

"I know," she said. "You don't love me."

He rolled his eyes, ran his fingers through his hair. "We always seem to run into each other, don't we?" He sat next to her. "It's been three days since the attack."

He pulled her against his shoulder, and she leaned against the fabric of his robe, trembling silently. "I'm....so sorry."

"Is Qymaen in custody?" she asked. "Or is he...." She could not bring herself to say the word. If he'd perished in the attack....or if an overzealous officer prodded him too hard....

"He's alive and back on Scipio. Ord Mantell can't prosecute the Banking Clan or Kalee for anything he's done, since any deaths were technically collateral damage."

A long silence between them. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier," he said. "I didn't know you would take it personally."

"I don't take anything personally. You're a Jedi. I'm a khaneme. We learn to set aside love for duties all the time."

He sighed. "You're trying to sweet-talk me, aren't you?"

"I'm trying to make amends, because I need your help."

He leaned close to her, pressing his lips to her ear. "You want me to sneak you off Republic-controlled space."

She nodded. "This isn't just about his assassination anymore. It's about stopping another attack on innocent people."

I know my Qymaen. He must have a reason for what he did—maybe he did it out of desperation. Maybe the Banking Clan promised him something. He's not cold-blooded.

He can't be.

Another long silence. The Jedi spoke. "I understand. I'll help you."

"What will you tell the authorities?"

"That you are absolved of your debt, and that you can return freely. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"But I still have six more months, don't I?"

He sighed. "Come with me. I haven't been honest with you."

✺✺✺

He dragged her outside the limits of the Jedi Temple to his ship and settled her in the cockpit. "You were freed," he said, "the day we went to Coruscant."

She bit her tongue to keep from screaming. What more could she expect from these lying pawns of the Republic? What more? "You had better have a good reason for this," she growled. "So which was it? My body or my power?"

"Excuse me?"

She crossed her arms. "You kept me for longer for no reason. Tell me which you wanted more."

His cheek was hollow; he was biting his mouth. "You are my only friend. We spurn love for individuals. We aren't allowed to stay attached to anyone. But I thought...."

Ronderu clenched her fists. "Spit it out, Arna."

He winced. "I....I thought I could get you to love me."

"But why?" she asked, almost inaudibly. "Why do you want me to love you if you don't return it?"

"Ronderu."

The name on his lips, with his Mandalorian accent, was the equivalent of her watching another woman kiss Qymaen on the lips. It was adultery.

"I do love you."

He walked toward her. "I've loved you ever since you started opening up to me, although I don't understand you. I...." he sighed. "I thought that if somehow your lover was out of the picture, I could marry you in secret."

Oh, gods. No. Not this. That had been the meaning of his kisses. He wasn't doing it out of respect for her culture. He had wanted to woo her, even after finding out how much she loved Qymaen.

Her face contorted, and he continued. "I wouldn't care about your cybernetics or barrenness—we could keep it a secret. I just want you. You would be cared for, protected....not chasing after someone who's losing his mind as we speak."

And his face was close to hers, his arms blocking her on either side from escaping. "Please, Ru....don't risk your life for him. Whoever he was, he's gone now. He's nothing more than a terrorist."

She pressed her lips together, scowled. "If you think I'm ready to give up on him, you're a terrible mind-reader. Proposal denied."

He put a hand on her shoulder as she turned her back on him. "Ru, I....I'm sorry. I grew up around those who spurn love. I thought—"

Tears raced down her cheeks. "I'll always be your friend, but deception ruined any chance you had with me. You can't claim to be a member of the religion of truth when you lied about something....so serious."

But she did not admit the biggest reason why: she was only loyal to one man. One man, who in her eyes was perfect for her. The fire to her water, what made her loyal. No matter what he did, she would always love him, and only him.

"I'll forgive you someday, but take me home and get the hell away from me." Her respirator worked two more cycles before she responded. "We must hold off on talking to each other for a while," she said, as gently as she could. "At least until your feelings leave."

"Because you love him," he said coldly. As he entered the cockpit of the ship, she reflected with pity on the thorns that must be poking his heart right now. But she was not sorry for him. Not anymore.

◈◈◈

Did you know....

● The above song is "Angel" by Within Temptation. I imagine it to be Ronderu's thoughts toward Arna.

● Because we already had two forbidden Jedi/politician romances that were requited, I decided to take this one in a different direction.

● In the original draft of this book, Ronderu returned Arna's feelings, but left out of loyalty for Qymaen instead. I changed it for the final draft because it wasn't in her character to truly love anyone other than him.

Tell me what you think....

● What would you do in Ronderu's situation?

● Did Arna truly love her, or was he just looking for a mate?

● Is the Republic lying about civilian damage?