Judgment Day

He stood silently in the center of the Jedi Council's chambers, deliberately not looking at any of the twelve Jedi Masters that studyed him serenely. Instead, he fixed his gaze out the large glass window which overlooked the busy Coruscanti sky line, and awaited their judgment.

After the last battle ended and a planet burned, he had returned to the Council and submitted himself to their judgment, because now, he simply didn't care what happened to him. Everything that mattered was gone. Punishment in its own way would be a relief, and Force knew he deserved it. He had disobeyed the Council's orders and as a result people had died because of his arrogant belief that he knew better than the Council and his inability to do the right thing.

In a toneless and dispassionate voice, he had confessed to everything, told them all of his mistakes making sure that he didn't gloss over the details, and laid his soul bare for their judgment. Now his trial was over, and he awaited their decision. When Master Ooja spoke, his words barely pierced through the fog that had shrouded him for the last few months, ever since his life had fallen apart around him.

'Padawan Bindo, this Council has reached its decision.'

The Cathar's kind and pitying gaze that hurt so much worse than contempt and scorn, and it took all of Jolee's Jedi training not to outwardly flinch.

'We have decided that in light of the mitigating circumstances surrounding your case, not to punish you.'

For the first time since Nayama died on in the firestorm on Yavin IV, an emotion cut through the numb fog surrounding his battered soul. Rage at the Council bubbled up and boiled over. Forgiveness was the last thing that he wanted. It was far more painful than any punishment could have been.

Jolee's voice was tight and low as he ground the word out. 'Why?'

'We feel that you have been punished enough. You've lost your wife Jolee, you've lost your home, and we believe that instead of punishment you deserve compassion and understanding.'

Jolee's hands balled into tight fists. 'I don't want compassion and understanding! I want justice. I want what I deserve. Innocent people died because I was too blind to see her lust for power, because I couldn't do what needed to be done when she fell.'

In his mind's eye, Jolee could still see Nayama, kneeling in his garden, cradling her broken arm, and looking up at him with her once beautiful green eyes that were flat and hard and mocking.

'Do it, Jolee. Kill me. Prove that you're not weak.'

But Jolee hadn't been able to do it, because she was his wife, and despite the fact that she had just tried to kill him, he still loved her more than anything. There was a part of him that had hoped, even as she taunted him for his weakness, to redeem her, to find some way to show her the error of her choice.

Nayama had walked out of that garden and on her way back to her ship she'd slaughtered three innocent padawans that had the misfortune of getting in her way, whose only crime was being in the wrong place at the wrong time. And those were just the first lives that she had taken. Too many had died because of his mistakes and inability to do the right thing, and now Jolee knew it was time for him to be punished.

He tried to find the words to convince the Council, to make them understand that he deserved their hatred and scorn. 'I trained her against your wishes. I didn't listen to your warnings.' His voice broke under the heavy burden of shame and guilt and grief. 'I didn't kill her when I had the chance.'

Master Ooja, and the rest of the Council remained unmoved. 'And we believe that you understand the error of your actions and have gained wisdom from these unfortunate circumstances.'

'But -'

The Cathar held up one sleek, clawed hand. 'You trained Nayama, Jolee, but it was not your fault that she was corrupted. Exar Kun tricked them into going to Yavin IV, he used the ghosts of dead Sith to corrupt them.'

But Jolee knew that a dead Sith ghost hadn't made her attack him in his own home. Nayama had always been drawn to power. It was one of the reasons why she had become an enforcer on Ukatis, willfully ignoring the suffering of the people she should have been protecting. A part of Jolee couldn't blame her; she had clawed her way out of the worst slum on the planet, and done the best with the horrible pazaak deck she'd been dealt. Jolee knew that at her core she was a good person, but her fear of being powerless and at the mercy of others led her to covet power. To her credit, she had eventually seen that the Ukatis government was corrupt, and had even helped Jolee and Vrook battle against the tyrant king, but she had never given up seeking power, and he had been too blinded by love and too arrogant in his belief that he could train her, to see the danger. He knew now that even without Exar Kun's influence, she would have fallen anyway, it had just been a matter of when.

'Nayama may have been corrupted, but she hadn't made her choice until she attacked me. I watched her fall... I should have found the right words to stop her. I failed her.'

'It was her choice and her choice alone, Jolee.'

Jolee couldn't believe it. They weren't going to punish him the way he so desperately wanted, and his fury at the Council went white-hot. 'I deserve to be punished, dammit!'

'If you seek punishment, you will have to find it somewhere else. You are dismissed, Jolee.' Twelve implacably forgiving faces regarded him calmly and serenely, and at that moment, Jolee hated every single one of them. But he hated himself even more.

There wasn't anything else to say or do, so Jolee turned and walked out the door. He walked slowly through the towering halls of the Jedi temple half-blind. Apprentices, padawans, knights and masters passed him, oblivious to his inner torment.

Eventually, he found his way back to his sparse sleeping quarters. They were devoid of nearly any kind of personal belongings. After she had tried to kill him, Jolee had left the home he and Nayama had so painstakingly built together. Traces of the wife that he loved so deeply had been everywhere, from the hand woven blankets that had covered their bed, to the intricate and delicate glassware that she had so painstakingly chosen, to the polished wooden hair clips that had rested on the dresser, and it had been far too painful to remain there. When they had dueled, they had fought through their home, laying waste to the life they had built together. In a way, Jolee thought it was fitting that the tattered remnants of their life had been scoured off the planet when the Sith had caused Ossus' sun to go supernova.

The stiff and narrow bed creaked when Jolee sat down. He buried his face in his hands, trying to will himself to move and will himself to care. Finally, Jolee stood and collected his meager belongings. He had just slung his small duffel bag over his shoulder when they approached.

'So they let you go,' Vrook said.

Jolee looked up to see Vrook and Zhar standing in the doorway. The naked anger and blame and scorn on Vrook's face would have been comforting -- it was the reaction that the Council should have had. But Vrook had once been his best friend before he'd met Nayama, and Jolee had to admit that Vrook's anger cut deeply. Jolee knew that Vrook had forgiven him for marrying the woman that Vrook had loved, but he also knew that Vrook hated him for training her in secret and paving the way for her fall, and Jolee couldn't blame him for that.

The teenage Twi'lek, on the other hand, just looked sad and tired, and Jolee felt another pang of guilt. Nayama's fall and betrayal hadn't just affected him, it had affected all of the people that had loved her. She and Zhar had been as close as brother and sister once. Jolee had no doubt that both men, in their own way, were grieving just as much as he was.

'How dare you? You don't have the right to leave!' Vrook's face and voice were, as always, hard and unyeilding. 'You have too much to atone for. You can't abandon the Order!'

'I didn't abandon the Order, Vrook, it abandoned me. You know that they're wrong. I can't accept their forgiveness. I won't.'

'So what now?' Vrook's nodded his head at the bag slung over Jolee's shoulder. 'Are you just going to slink off like a coward? Do the ideals of this order mean nothing to you?'

Jolee shook his head, knowing that there was no way Vrook would understand. 'The ideals of this Order are a lie, Vrook. They don't care about justice.'

'Fine. Go then. Slink off and abandon your duty. Ignore the mess that you've made and leave it for the rest of us to clean up.' Vrook stalked off, leaving Jolee and Zhar alone.

Jolee headed out the door in silence, not knowing what to say to the kid. Zhar fell into step next to him, undaunted by Jolee's silence. He could tell that the kid was struggling to find the right words to say as Jolee strode quickly though the great atrium and massive hallways, determined to get as far away from the Order as quickly as possible.

When they reached the massive marble staircase in front of the temple, Zhar finally spoke. 'Don't go, Jolee. This is a mistake.'

Jolee stopped and looked at Zhar. Guilt swamped him, but it wasn't enough to make him stay. 'I can't stay here anymore, kid. I can't be a part of an organization that goes against its own ideals, that doesn't care about justice for the people who died.'

'They showed you mercy, and I don't think they were wrong.'

But you should, dammit! You should hate me. She's dead because of my arrogance.

But he kept silent, knowing that his words would only hurt the kid, and let go of his anger and frustration towards the boy.

Jolee's voice softened. 'Of course you don't. You're my friend, and you're a good kid.'

Zhar persisted, and his words which were intended to be comforting, ripped Jolee's heart to pieces. 'They forgave you. I forgive you. Can't you forgive yourself?'

'No. No I can't,' Jolee said softly. He looked away, unable to bear the disappointed and hurt look on Zhar's face.

'Where will you go?'

'I don't know. Somewhere far away from here.'

Some place that doesn't hold any memories at all, where I can forget and be forgotten.

'Goodbye, Zhar.' Jolee turned and left.

As he walked away, he heard Zhar murmur softly, 'May the Force be with you.'