Chapter 4 The Ruling
Rachel looked around the room at the Syndics seated. She couldn’t tell which ones were from which family except by the colors they wore, and even that was difficult to remember. Thran had tried to run her through which ones were which, but in the chaos of it all, she hadn’t taken in anything he had told her.
The nine Patriarchs were seated in the same areas as their Syndics, but they were not allowed to pass judgment at this point, only offer input. The only one she knew was Thran’s father, and she often looked over towards him for reassurance because she knew that she at least had his support.
Thran stood tensely next to her. His mind, too, was rigid. He was expecting whatever was coming, and he planned to take it.
“We understand,” one of them started, “that the Earthling speaks Cheunh.”
“I understand better than I speak,” she hoped she pronounced the words correctly, stealing a glance at Thran for confirmation. But his face showed nothing. It was only through a small flicker in his emotions that she knew she had.
“Very well,” the Syndic said.
“We have a number of questions for the both of you,” another spoke up, this one wearing dark green robes.
Before she could even nod in acknowledgment, the questioning and accusations began.
“Mitth’ra’nikuru, you knowingly traveled to the Rattatak system and engaged with the peoples and government there, going against all laws regarding aliens.”
“Forgive me,” Thran interjected. “But there is nothing in the laws that state I cannot travel to other aliens’ worlds and speak with them.”
The Syndic made a soft hissing noise, “Be that as it may, speaking with alien governments and aiding them without authorization is against law. Not to mention the risk of exposing the Ascendency to attack should these aliens have learned from you what they desired to know.”
“There was no risk of that,” Thran said.
“Wasn’t there?” The other raised an eyebrow and looked over to Rachel. “And what of the information that this Earthling knows? Was there no risk that this outsider would give up such information when her life was at stake?”
It took her a second to realize they were directing the question towards her and not Thran, but Thran answered anyway.
“Ra’chel showed more strength than you give her credit for,” he said turning to look at her briefly. “Despite what the Rattataki put her through, she never once showed any sign of giving in. In fact, throughout it all, she only ever told me to remain silent.”
“So you admit that you were at risk of divulging Ascendency secrets?” another Syndic asked.
“Have you ever watched your friend be tortured?” he turned the question over on him.
When there was no immediate answer, Thran continued. “Have any of you ever watched, unable to anything, while your friend suffered needlessly for you?”
Rachel thought that his tone was shifting a bit too close to being disrespectful but given the changes in emotions she felt waving through the room, she couldn’t be sure.
“I understand that I should not have gone to Rattatak, but more than that, I should not have involved Ra’chel. However, if I hadn’t, I would not have had her strength to draw on when I needed it. It was her strength that protected the Ascendency, not mine.”
There was a silence in the room, and Rachel looked over at Thyodar to try and gauge his thoughts on Thran’s words.
To her surprise, he had no emotion showing on his face. Not even a hint. She slowly looked around at the other faces, and saw a mixture of contempt, disapproval, thoughtfulness, and the same stoicism.
Thran had spoken for her. Perhaps it was her own word that they needed.
Taking a breath and working her mouth a bit, she hoped she could say everything correctly.
“If I may,” she said, speaking slowly. “I understand my word may mean nothing because I am an outsider, but I ask you to consider them.” When there was no objection, she continued. “Thran asked me to join him on this mission, and I did not hesitate because he is my friend, and I saw how much this meant to him. The Jedi are often asked to oversee these kinds of negotiations in the hope of maintaining peace. There were many times when I sensed danger and saw signs that we should have left, but I left the decision to Thran, and I stayed to protect him.”
“You believe the Chiss need protecting?” another Syndic wearing yellow robes spoke up.
“Perhaps not the Ascendency as a whole,” she tried to choose her words carefully. She didn’t want to insult them but wanted to be as honest as possible. “But I was not going to leave my friend behind when I sensed danger.”
“And yet you both required assistance, did you not?” the Syndic pressed her further.
“I did what I could,” she said. “They had some form of technology that blocked out the Force. They had more guards than I was able to defend against.”
“And you therefore failed,” another Syndic stated.
Her stomach tightened, and she couldn’t keep eye contact with any of them. It felt like she was back in school being reprimanded by her teachers for overstepping her bounds. If she had just been able to convince Thran to leave when she sensed the danger, she knew this wouldn’t have turned out the way it had.
“If anyone failed,” Thran spoke up, “it was me. Ra’chel did nothing wrong. Her actions should be praised—”
“Silence!” Rachel wasn’t sure which Syndic had spoken, but she could sense the collective stirring in the room.
“We will come to your actions soon enough, Mitth’ra’nikuru,” she spotted him now, the Syndic wearing green robes was speaking. “As for this Earthling,” he turned his glowing eyes on her, “She is banished from Chiss space immediately.”
“On what char—”
“I said silence, Mitth’ra’nikuru! Take the Earthling out.”
She felt a hand on her shoulder as she turned to look at Thran whose face held first disbelief, but as they turned her around, she saw his eyes flash with anger.
She had known the Syndicure would have a harsh sentence, but she had no idea they would be this heartless.
Her last view was of Patriarch Mitth’yod’arik, but he didn’t meet her gaze before she was ushered out of the room.
Thran couldn't sleep that night. The Syndicure's ruling infuriated him. Rachel had protected the Ascendancy, but they were too narrow-minded to recognize it. They’d wasted little time in implementing their sentence, too. He hadn’t been allowed to say goodbye as they took Rachel back to the hangar to be put on a ship out of Chiss space. Once she was out, he knew they’d give her the means to find her own way back to Coruscant.
That was how they repaid her loyalty.
They had concluded the session for the time being while they took some time to consider his future. Was he to be allowed to continue his work as an ambassador to the Republic, or would they hand it over to someone else? Everything he had worked for, toiled over, and lost sleep over could be taken away so easily. And his father just sat there and let it happen.
He swung his legs off his bed and sat up, too angry to sleep anymore. He rubbed his hands over his face before standing and walking to the window. He’d never shaken the habit of looking out into the garden for his mother, but now, it was Rachel he had hoped to see walking between all the flowers. He saw neither, nor would he ever see either of them again.
He turned and went to the door. It was nearly morning, so he wasn’t concerned about what anyone would think as he left his room and went to the back of the house. He exited without even thinking about his destination, and yet still knew exactly where he was going.
Half an hour later, just as the sun was rising, he found himself in the clearing where the stream flowed from the edge of the cavern wall into the Mitth homestead. The water was icy, he knew, and he could still hear his mother’s warnings not to get too close, but he wasn’t a child anymore, and he wanted something that would distract his mind from his anger.
But as he walked through the clearing towards the stream, the rising sun shone through the trees and danced over the morning dew that coated the grass making it sparkle like gems, and he couldn’t help but stare at it. He knew that Rachel would love it, and he felt his jaw clench with the knowledge that she would never see it.
He had come here looking for the same peace Rachel and his mother found when they came here, but all he found was their absence and the void they left in his life.
Clenching his hands into fists, he saw a stone nearby and rushed towards it and chucked it across the stream into the trees with a loud yell. He found another and threw it. And another, and another, until he found himself kneeling in front of the stream staring down into the rushing water.
The last time he had cried was when his mother had died. He had been a child then, and crying had been acceptable. He was glad no one could see him now.
When he returned to the house, it was nearly midday, and his father was waiting for him with the news that the Syndicure was ready with their decision.
“Did Syndic Mitth’al’amikuz even try to speak up on my behalf? He said nothing when Ra’chel was banished.”
“I have since spoken with him,” he said. “He has pleaded your case with the Syndicure in an effort to keep you as the Ambassador to the Republic. How it has gone, I don’t know yet.”
But he had done nothing for Rachel.
“Will I have the chance to speak?” Thran asked.
“I don’t see why you wouldn’t.”
When Thran again walked into the Syndicure Hearing Hall, he knew he had one chance to plead Rachel’s case and make them see how badly they had wronged her. He didn’t care what repercussions came to him, he only wanted Rachel’s name to be cleared, and her sentence revoked. He would make them see the error in their logic and prove to them how sound his own was. This was his strength. He knew he excelled in this.
“Mitth’ra’nikuru,” the Irizi Syndic began, but Thran didn’t let him continue.
“If I may,” he interrupted—the Irizi’s jaw visibly clenching shut in contempt. “I would like the chance to speak.”
“Proceed,” the Clarr Syndic said with a note of impatience in his voice.
Thran inclined his head before carefully speaking his chosen words.
“How do we protect the Ascendency?” he asked the room.
When he was answered with only silence and puzzled stares, he repeated himself.
“You have all been members of the Ascendency’s ruling body for years. Surely you know how we protect the Ascendency?”
“What sort of game are you playing?” the Plikh Syndic asked.
“I am merely wondering if we are all trying to protect the Ascendency, or if we have become so narrow-minded that we refuse to see past the end of our desks.”
He knew this would cause a stir, and indeed, he could see many of them shift in their seats.
“Our Navy protects our borders,” Syndic Mitth’al’amikuz spoke up.
“They do,” Thran answered. “But is that enough? How do other systems know to not attack us?”
“They respect our strength,” the Irizi Syndic said proudly. “The Chiss Navy is the strongest in the Chaos, and no one would dare to challenge that strength.”
Thran had planned on his pride, and if not his, then the Clarr’s who was also sitting a bit straighter in his seat.
“Respect,” Thran echoed. “Strength. And yet, each family has their own Navy, do they not?”
Again, they were silent.
“What is to stop the Clarr’s ships from attacking the Irizi’s ships? Or the Plikh’s from the Dasklo’s?”
“We are all Chiss,” the Chaf Syndic said. “Why should we attack each other?”
“Loyalty,” Thran said. “Are these things not the foundation of what makes us Chiss?”
“What is your point?” the Clarr Syndic asked.
“Which of these does Ra’chel Ba’kandi lack? Strength, respect, or loyalty?”
He could see them roiling. He had them. They couldn’t find anything other than the fact that she simply wasn’t Chiss.
“She knows too much,” the Plikh began to say.
“And yet,” Thran interrupted, “has she ever breathed a single secret of our people?”
When they were silent again, he continued.
“Even on Earth, when all she knew was my name, and she was held under torture by her own people, she remained silent. On Rattatak, she knew far more about our culture and worlds and secrets. Despite that, and despite all the pain she endured, she made sure that I remained silent.” Thran felt his throat start to constrict at the memory of watching Rachel endure so much pain.
“She did not have to endure any of it, and yet she chose to go through all of it to protect the Ascendency, and you have cast her out and cast her aside. That is not loyalty. That is shameful.” He felt his earlier anger rising and fought to keep it down. He couldn’t let it control his words. Logic needed to win them over. “Ra’chel’s actions protected the Ascendency, and for that, she ought to be thanked. My actions put the Ascendency in jeopardy. If anyone ought to be punished, it ought to be me and not her. I would only ask that if you reassign someone to be Ambassador, they have the same outlook and views that I have had, or you may as well disband the notion altogether.”
There was silence, and they looked between each other for several moments. He stole a glance at his father merely to gauge his thoughts and saw what could pass for pride on his face.
“I believe,” the Clarr Syndic spoke up finally, “we shall need some time to deliberate over your words, Mitth’ra’nikuru. We will call you back when we are ready.”
Thran inclined his head and left the hall.
He felt himself relax as the door closed behind him. He knew he had brought a huge weight down on himself, but if it meant that it would be taken off of Rachel, it would be worth it.
As the shuttle landed on the Jedi landing pad and flew off again, Rachel saw that Master Ywin had returned from his mission. He stood in the entranceway with his arms crossed, and as Rachel approached, he didn’t say anything.
“Master—” she began hesitantly.
“The Council is already assembled,” he said, turning and walking away.
Her chest tightened as she started to follow him. They already knew. Somehow, they already knew what she had done.
Would they expel her?
Her mind whirled the entire walk to the Council Chamber. About half of the Masters were actually present, the rest were present via holocalls. Once Master Ywin took his seat, Master Zhulung began.
“Padawan Bakandi,” his voice was stern. “We have received reports and listened to parts and portions of what has transpired. What we lack is your part of the story. We know that you left the Temple without authorization, we know that you were on Rattatak when the newly elected Governor was murdered, and you have not been seen or heard from until you returned to Republic space. Would you please fill us in.”
Rachel hadn’t known the Governor had been killed. She didn’t know what the Chiss had done when they extracted her and Thran from Rattatak. She hadn’t asked.
She decided to start at the beginning. She told them how Thran had contacted her and asked for her help, how the meeting with the Governor had turned out to be an ambush, she told them as much as she could about the torture, and she told them that the Chiss had rescued her and Thran.
“You deny having any part in the Governor’s murder?” Master Zhulung asked.
“I didn’t know he had been killed,” Rachel said. “I wasn’t conscious when the Chiss rescued us. I only know what I was told.”
“But during the ambush,” Master Ywin interjected, “could you have deflected a blaster bolt towards him?”
Rachel thought back.
“No,” she said, replaying the memory. “He was the one who stunned Thran. He was alive when we were captured.”
“So the Chiss are to blame,” Master Ywin turned to Master Zhulung.
“That will be a matter for them to work out,” he said turning back to Rachel. “For your part, Padawan Bakandi, why did you not alert the Council where you were going?”
“I…don’t know,” she admitted.
“Did you believe we would forbid it?” Master Zev asked.
“Wouldn’t you?” She looked at him.
“All such missions should be sanctioned by or given clearance through the Council,” Master Raaschu’s hologram said from behind her.
“A Jedi Master would have been given the mission,” Master Xal said. “A Padawan never goes on missions by themselves. Regardless of their age.”
She knew judgement was coming, and she couldn’t lift her eyes to meet anyone’s gaze.
“Padawan Bakandi,” Master Zhulung’s voice took on a booming tone, “you are, from now on, to remain inside the temple unless sanctioned by the Council for a mission alongside your Master, and your communication with Ambassador Mitth’ra’nikuru must end once and for all.”
She could handle staying inside the temple. It was large and she could still go to the lake level and Room of a Thousand Fountains.
But for the Chiss to banish her and now the Council to forbid her to communicate with Thran was too much. She knew there would be ways around the banishment once Thran was allowed back to Coruscant, presuming the Syndicure allowed him to remain Ambassador, but this made that impossible.
If anything else was said after that, she didn’t hear it. Not until she had been formally dismissed.
She made it to her room before she completely broke down. She knew that such emotions were not encouraged. She should be finding or making peace with their judgement. But right now, she didn’t care. She wanted to cry and let it out. She could make peace with it later.