"I cannot trust a man to control others who cannot control himself."
The padawan stood looking out of the window at the surface of the Republic's capital planet, Coruscant. The massive city planet was beyond impressive. The impossibly tall buildings, the deep detail, the centuries old architecture, the surface, it was all amazing. The weather patterns were all precisely controlled. The golden color of the sun cast a nearly magical glow on everything building, every landing pad, spacecraft, and vehicle that flew. He shifted his red eyes out across to the sky criss-crossed with bustling traffic lanes.
It never ceased to surprise him how quickly things can change. It was only a week ago that he was on a far-flung planet in Separatist Space leading and fighting alongside clone troopers. They had taken down hulking spider droids, frigates, flown fighters, crushed buzz droids, leapt on top droidekas…and how he stood outside the Jedi Council chambers awaiting a meeting with the Jedi Masters.
He rested his hand on top of his leather belt and rubbed his index finger over the ridged pommel of his lightsaber. The design was the skeletal style used by Obiwan Kenobi and other Form Three users. He reflected upon his past as he took a deep breath. He had gone to the caves of Ilum with his master Plo Koon and found the kyber crystal that sung to him. When he found it, it was clear as they all were in their natural state. He had climbed past so many that laid there open and available to him, but they had not called to him. This particular one did. When he found it and meditated on it, he imprinted himself onto the crystal and the crystal onto him. Kyber crystals were a very, very strange thing. They felt alive. Finding his was almost like finding a long lost family member. He had built his lightsaber from a stock of parts all Jedi drew from. This particular design was not as ornamental as some like, but he really didn't care much about that. He preferred function and durability over looks.
He was shaken back to the present as the doors to the council opened. His Master stood in the doorway. Master Plo Koon was a tall Kel Dorian. His blotched orange skin, clawed fingers, and gun metal grey mask made him very intimidating. His personality, his deep wisdom, and mentorship, however was quite the contrary. Having blue skin, black hair, and red eyes, the padawan was striking in his own way. However, as he stood there looking at his master and the rest of the Jedi Council beyond him, it was he who was intimidated.
This happened any time one was "summoned into the council".
"It is time, my padawan," Master Plo said. "Enter."
As he stepped over the threshold, the doors closed behind him leaving them together. The Padawan stepped into the center of the council as his master assumed his seat. Around him were almost all of the Jedi Council members. He knew them all, but notably there was his master Plo Koon, Obiwan Kenobi, Mace Windu, and most notably was Master Yoda. The silence was broken by Mace Windu.
"The Jedi Trials come in many ways and at many times," Mace Windu began. "During these trying times of war, the Trials are endured in diplomacy and combat. This has led to more demanding trails and deeper consequences than before the war. You passed the Trial of Skill with your superior armed and unarmed combat. You passed your Spirit trial as you fought a battle of the wills in combat against Asajj Ventress. You passed the trial of Courage in the Battle of Felucia. You passed the Trial of Flesh with Master Obiwan Kenobi and myself at the Black Stall Station with exceptional skill and bravery."
Windu paused and gathered his next statement.
"Recently on Geonosis you faced the Trial of Insight," Windu continued. That was a new one on him. He didn't realize that battle counted as a trial. Windu continued. "During that battle, you led your troops against a sect of the Geonosians. However, once the campaign was finished and the strategic goal achieved, you continued into the catacombs and killed an unnecessary number of Geonosians, including one of their queens. Why did you do this?"
The padawan was caught off guard. This was the first he had heard of any issue with that campaign. He drew a breath.
"That is not accurate," he said slightly taken aback. "As soon as the campaign was won, we disengaged the Geonosians, rescued the Clones that had been captured, and returned to the surface. Then we linked with the main force," he recalled. "Are you concerned that I killed one of their queens?" he asked.
"That is why we are here, Mit'teem," Obiwan said. "Why did you kill the queen?" he asked.
"She was controlling her forces via telepathy. We had a telepathic battle, and she finally yielded."
"Was this before or after you dismembered her?" Windu asked. Mit'teem furrowed his brow. They had interviewed his clones.
"After," he said. "The Geonosians had waged an a very savage campaign against my men. They were literally picking them up off the ground and ripping them in half."
"This is war." Windu said flatly. "They are clones. That is their function if need be."
"It did not need to be, and they were men," he said quickly and with confidence.
"If it did or did not is beside the point, Padawan," Saesee Tiin interjected, a Jedi said to his right. Mit'teem turned to look at him and see his long horns pouring over his shoulders onto his chest. "What is of consequence is what you did afterward."
"You took revenge," Master Windu said. "Revenge is not the Jedi way." Mit'teem's red eyes shot back and forth as he recalled the event.
"There was no revenge," he said matter-of-factly. "I killed her, because I could read telepathic intent. She was beginning to tell the Geonosians to re-engage." He paused. "What I did won the campaign."
"Why did you take your men into the catacombs in the first place?" Windu asked changing the subject.
"We were down to ten men, and we were being picked off out in the open, and neither the tactical nor strategic goal had been completed at that time. The clones have a term for that, 'close with and destroy the enemy'," he said confidence. "We were able to do both take cover and close with the enemy." There was a quiet pause in the Council. "Was it not prudent to press the attack until victory was achieved?"
"An emotional attachment you had to your men," Master Yoda said changing the subject again. "Everyone looked to the small, green figure. "Afraid of what the Geonosians would do to your men you were. That fear led you to hate of the Geonosians. Your hate led you to rampage. Down a very dark path this leads. Touched by the Dark Side, this event has been." That comment hung in the air.
An attachment to my men? he asked himself. He was confused; very confused. Master Kenobi was known for having a close relationship with his men. His master, Plo Koon had fought on many occasions to great risk to himself in order to save his clones. As far as leading down the Dark Side, Master Windu used Form Seven of lightsaber combat, a form that actually drew from the Dark Side of the Force!
Was he missing something or was this actually hypocrisy?
"I don't understand. You all have these attributes in your characters and history," he said bluntly.
"This war has taxed us all," Obiwan Kenobi said. "It has challenged every one of us to our limits. It has caused us to skirt the boundaries between the light and dark. It is a battle we all fight every day." Kenobi paused and maintained eye contact with him. "It is a matter of control. If you cannot control yourself, how are we to allow you to control others?"
Mit'teem leaned his head back slightly. There it was. They didn't trust him anymore.
He understood the statement and the concern, but it did not ring true or consistent with him or other Jedi in the Order.
"It is the judgement of the Council that you be expelled from the Order."
His heart stopped and his mouth hung only slightly open as the breath left his lungs.
Expulsion? Was that really called for? Was that really necessary?
The questions raced through his mind. What of the other Padawans – the Jedi who had done so much worse than he? What of the "Chosen One" Anakin Skywalker himself? There were rumors that he had murdered an entire village of locals on Tatooine!
No. He would not play the games. He brought his vision back and mentally leaned forward into the situation.
Plo Koon studied his padawan Mit'teem as he absorbed the information. The Jedi Master subtly probed his mind and felt its texture had a higher, more active grit to it than usual. Then, as Mit'teem looked back up and met Mace Windu's eyes, his mind suddenly went smooth. In fact it was as smooth as when Plo Koon had met with the captain of the ship off of which he had been recruited.
They needed to be careful. He was already doing a good job defeating their arguments. They needed to keep him off balance, but they may have lost that opportunity.
"I understand my actions," Mit'teem began. "However, how is this consistent with others in the Order? How do you let Anakin Skywalker get away with what he does? The rumors alone a terrifying."
Master Windu lightly massaged his chin with his index finger.
"I will give you this, Padawan," Windu said in consolation, there have been a lot of mistakes in this war. The Dark Side clouds much. General Krell. Assajj Ventress. The Senate guards. We have allowed too much darkness into the Order," he said pausing for a heart beat. "It stops here." After another long moment, Plo Koon rose from his chair and walked to the center of the chamber.
Mit'teem's attention was drawn to his master as he stood from his seat in the arc of chairs and approached him. He clenched his teeth and brought his eyes up to meet his master's face, his eyes concealed beneath the goggles of his mask. There was a long moment between him and his master. Plo Koon put his left hand on his padawan's right shoulder in a comforting gesture and outstretched his right with his palm up.
"I must ask for your lightsaber."
Mit'teem shut his eyes and pursed his lips. After a moment's hesitation, he reached for his lightsaber that hung at his side and ran his fingers over its grenade section. He tightened his grip around it and drew the weapon. He carefully held it in both hands. He looked down at it. The battles. The tens of thousands of droids he had taken down. The obstacles he had cut through. Crossing blades against the fallen padawan Assage Vintress. He rolled it in his hand and felt its weight for…possibly the last time. He carefully set it in his master's hand.
This was all so sudden.
"Padawan Mit'teem, you are hereby expelled from the Jedi Order. In consideration for what you have done for the Order, the Grand Army of the Republic, and the Republic itself, you will be given the full funding of education at the University of Coruscant," Windu said. "Your options are to appeal this decision at which time a tribunal will be convened. You will be afforded an attorney, and your troops will be called to testify as witness."
Mit'teem knew how that would play out. If they already concluded what they did without asking his side of the story, that means that this meeting and any other trial would be simply a formality. They would find him guilty. Windu continued. "Or you may accept our terms and go onto parole and build a new life."
"What are the terms?" Mit'teem asked as his eyes danced across the floor, his mind racing."
"The terms of your parole are as follows. You are to no longer refer to yourself as a Jedi Padawan or having ever been part of the Jedi Order. You must surrender use of the Force. You must speak of this to no one and never approach a Jedi unless he approaches you."
He knew that if he did not accept, they would hold a trial just for procedure and then either execute him or lock him up for the rest of his life. He spoke without meaning to.
"I accept your terms of parole."
"Then it is done," Windu said.
The commands echoed through him louder than any explosion. They were taking everything from him. He had been with the order nearly his entire life. They were even taking his past from him! Could they do that? He was looking in a direction but he could not see. He was locked inside this head with the suddenness and twist of his fate. He could barely breath. The hand on his shoulder squeezed, bringing him back to the moment. His master…no…he didn't even know what to call Plo Koon now.
"You will always be my protégé," the Keldor said through his mask. "Come. We have closed this chapter of your life. Now, we must open the next. The two turned and slowly exited the chamber. Mit'tem turned and looked over his shoulder at the Jedi Council for the last time as the door swung shut behind them.