Darkness so deep it was like being blind. Nick's words: The jungle doesn't promise. It exists. Not because the jungle kills you. Because it is what it is.
The war itself.
Only later, when I would spend a full day riding alongside Depa's howdah on the dorsal shell of her immense ankkox, when I would have to lean close to the gauzy curtains to catch her half- whispered words, would I understand where my instincts were leading me.
There are times when her voice is strong and clear, and her arguments lucid, and if I close my eyes and ignore the rocking of the ankkox's gait, the insect stings and rich floral rot of the jungle, I can imagine us chatting over a couple of cups of rek tea in my meditation chamber at the Jedi Temple.
In those times, she makes a terrifying sense.
'You still think like a judicial,' she told me once. 'That's your fundamental error. You still think in terms of enforcing the law. Upholding the rules. You were a great peace officer, Mace, but you're a terrible general. That's what cost so many lives at Geonosis: we went in like judi-cials. Trying to rescue hostages without loss of life. Trying to keep the peace. The Geonosians already knew we were at war-so only a few of us survived.' 'And if I thought like a general, what should I have done?' I asked her. 'Let Obi-Wan and Anakin die?' 'A general,' murmured the shadow through the curtains, 'would have dropped a baradium bomb on that arena.' 'Depa, you can't be serious,' I began, but she had stopped listening to me.
'Win the war,' she went on. 'Win at the cost of two Jedi, one Senator, and a few thousand of the enemy.' 'At the cost of everything that makes jedi what we are.' 'Instead, a hundred and more Jedi died, and you have a galaxy at war. Millions will die, and millions more will end up like that boy Kar killed: twisted, angry, and evil. Gather a million corpses, and tell them your ethics outweighed their lives.' To this I have no easy answer, even now.
But as Yoda says: There are questions for which we can never have answers. We can only be answers.
That is what I must try to be, for I know, now, what it means to be a keeper of the peace in the Galaxy of War.
That is: it means nothing at all.
There is no peace. What we thought was the Great Peace of the Republic was only a dream from which our galaxy has now awakened. I doubt we'll ever fall back into any dream like that again.
In the Galaxy of War, no one sleeps that well.
This understanding came later; at the time, as I sat in the grasser's saddle and looked down at Kar Vaster, the prisoners behind us and Depa's ankkox still unseen ahead, I had only a notion-a hunch-a mass of unprocessed feelings and unsorted ideas.
An instinct.
But somehow my instincts seemed to be working again. which is why I chose to send Vastor on without me. As I asked Depa a thousand times, when she was my Padawan- Is the true lesson what the teacher teaches, or what the student learns?
A few paces beyond where the Balawai prisoners stumbled along the jungle floor, Mace Windu reached past the grasser's nose and took its reins in one hand. 'This is far enough. Leave me here.' Vastor stopped, looking back over his massive shoulder. Depa awaits.
'She's waited for weeks. She'll wait a few hours more.' For the first time since the battle at the notch pass, Mace felt calm. Sure. On solid ground. 'Go on without me. I will attend her when I choose.' You are sent for. She is not to be defied. Vastor turned and tugged on the reins, but Mace had them in his fist, and they might as well have been bolted to a cliff.
Vastor's eyes flickered with distant danger: lightning from a storm below the horizon. You will regret this.
'I am a Jedi Master, and a Senior Member of the Jedi Council,' Mace said patiently. 'I am a general of the Grand Army of the Republic. I am not to be sent for. If she wants to see me, she will find me at the steamcrawler track before dusk.' The lightning in the lor peletts eyes came closer. I have said I will deliver you.
Mace matched his stare exactly. 'Funny: that's almost what Nick said. He didn't have much luck with it either.' My orders- 'Are your problem.' Mace let the reins fall and spread his open hands. He went perfectly still, perfectly relaxed, perfectly calm, except for the sizzle of the Force that arced like static electricity from the two lightsaber handgrips to his empty palms. 'Unless you choose to make them our problem. You can do that right now, if you like.' Vaster let the reins drop as well. He stepped away from the grasser and turned to face the Jedi Master squarely. His immense shoulders bulged, and muscles across his chest went rigid in acid-etched definition. The air shimmered like a mirage around him: anger beat against Mace like a hot wind in the Force. You will come 'with me.
'No.' Dark power clutched at Mace's will. You will come with me.
Slowly, reluctantly, Mace slid himself out of the saddle and slipped to the ground. He took two steps toward Vaster.
And stopped.
'I no longer enjoy your company,' the Jedi Master said. 'Go now. Do not return to me without Depa.' Vastor's eyes widened. His mouth worked soundlessly.
'You and I should not be alone together. There may be a fight.' Tendons stood out in Vastor's neck, winching his head downward and pulling his lips away from his sharp-filed teeth.,' do not wish to fight you, doshalo. Despite the rage smoking off him in the Force, his voice was soft. Depa will be angry to find you dead.
'Then you'd best be on your way,' Mace replied reasonably. 'Don't want to make Depa angry, do you?' Apparently he didn't: Vastor's growl thinned to a snarl of frustration. And what should I tell her you are doing here?
'Nothing that I can be bothered to explain to you.' Mace turned back to his grasser and took its reins once more. 'Any questions Depa might have, she should ask me herself.' Though pretending to busy himself with adjusting the grasser's tack, Mace paid absolute attention to Vastor's white-hot stare burning its way into his
