Chapter 32: Mace Windu

Coruscant

The Collective Commerce District, otherwise known as CoCo Town, had 537,891,350 registered inhabitants. The planet Coruscant had roughly a trillion registered inhabitants, with possibly a trillion or more undocumented inhabitants.

Elsewhere in the Galaxy, millions of beings across the Galaxy were dying every day in the Clone Wars—some days hundreds of millions or even billions.

Why then, am I concerning myself with the plight of one resident of CoCo Town? Why am I concerned about Lir Sey'les?

Mace Windu tried not to suppress feelings of compassion, but sometimes his feelings of compassion strayed dangerously close to what he thought of as attachment. How is it right for him to be so concerned, to devote so much time, to the plight of Lir Sey'les? How is it right when there is so much other suffering he could focus on?

Alone in his quarters, the Jedi Master stared out the water streaked window. Like clockwork, the Rain Day had begun in Federal District around 1500 hours, a little over an hour after Sey'les's departure—No, extradition.

From what little Mace Windu had gleaned of Lir Sey'les, the charges of a long unsolved murder on Bothawui did not surprise him. Sey'les had all but admitted to sedition against the Jedi Order. Mace Windu imagined she had no sense of loyalty. Her record noted having stolen counterfeit Republic credits, and eight years of Judicial After Action Reports revealed that she had taken at least 36 lives. The average Judicial took no lives in a 20 year career.

Sey'les often felt so distant that, when Mace Windu reached out to her, she did not feel like a part of the Force. When Sey'les let her guard down, the sensation for Mace Windu was akin to listening to an animal scratching its claws on the interior of a crate. Like a trapped animal; a neurotic and unpredictable nova of energy. Selfish, only doing things to benefit herself.

Is it that difficult to believe that a being that cold, that distant, that excitable, had killed someone off-duty?

A lightning bolt cut through the sky brightening Windu's quarters, but there was no thunder thanks to the soundproofing of this part of the Temple.

I need to focus on the war. There is something happening on Naboo… Mace Windu closed his eyes, struggling to see who the cloaked figure was. He had blue skin—

—Sey'les popped into his mind. She was crying, banging on the walls of a cell, snarling in Bothese at the lanky long-armed Bothan Mace Windu had seen earlier in the hangar.

Mace Windu frowned. Sey'les...

No matter how he tried to rationalise it, something about the situation kept intruding into his thoughts. Windu had no way of knowing how thorough of a job Palpatine's legal counsel had done when approving the extradition request. Overlooking a legal injustice to one Republic citizen—even a dishonourably discharged traitor, puts other citizens in danger.

o.o.o.o.o

"What do you mean there is no record of a Nav Lo'trek who died on 6:33:8 GrS?"

"I mean exactly what I said, Master Windu," Jocasta Nu answered with a polite smile. "I am not speaking in riddles. There are Nav Lo'treks, some alive, some deceased—none who died on that day."

"That can't be right," Mace Windu said sternly, stepping behind Jocasta Nu's workstation. He looked at the terminal with his own eyes. Dozens of Nav Lo'treks on record—none murdered on 6:33:8 GrS.

"Your record must simply have a mistake," Jocasta suggested with a passive-aggressive smile.

Mace Windu rubbed both of his hands over his bald head. "Have a good day," he smiled politely, speaking in his neutral deep voice.

"Good day to you too," Jocasta replied serenely.

Mace Windu turned around, walking out of the library. Most of the beings inside today were Younglings, with a few older Padawans perusing the shelves. He continued walking, looking along curiously at the busts of Jedi who had left the order.

Why do we keep the busts of those who have fallen to the darkside? Windu wondered to himself for a moment, catching a glimpse of Dooku's bust. Focusing on the bust, he locked his jaw. The biggest regret of his entire life was not simply killing Dooku on Geonosis. The Galaxy was no better this year than it was last.

With the war dragging on, trillions may die. Every day is like a waking nightmare. A waking—

"—Master Windu!" Stass Allie stammered in a breathless voice. "I've been looking all over for you," she panted, putting her hands on her knees in a crouch. One hand held a datapad, the other a crumpled flimsiplast sheet. Her face was a deep pinkish purple from physical exertion.

"Stass, are you alright?" Mace Windu asked, approaching up to the Tholothian. He could sense that she was not frightened, but very startled. "Did you run across the entire Temple?"

"It's—" Stass Allie took a deep breath, standing straight up.

"Relax Stass, you were right. I've been looking into the Sey'les matter and—"

"—Bodzho Se'lab," Stass gulped, holding up the crinkled flimsiplast.

"Why did you crumple Sey'les's extradition order?" Windu asked incredulously, grabbing it from the Tholothian as if she were a disorganised Padawan.

"It's… It's Bodzho Se'lab!"

Mace Windu frowned, not sure at all what she was getting at. He looked at the name—a smeared Bothese Cyrillic signature that looked vaguely… Stamped. He would have noticed if it were in Aurebesh or High Galactic but not—

"—The signature is stamped!" Windu blurted out in astonishment. "It's been falsified. This—"

"—No, the signature is stamped normally," Stass panted, earning a raised eyebrow from Windu. "It's Bodzho though. Bodzho is on Coruscant!"

Windu hmm'd to himself for a moment. "Why would Bodzho not come here himself then?"

"That's the million credit question," Stass sighed. "I found out where he is though. His brother Polo is Senior Senator from Bothawui! He's in the Mt Umate hospital!"

o.o.o.o.o

Located at the edge of Monument Plaza, the Mt Umate Hospital was one of the largest teaching hospitals in Coruscant, long associated with the Flames of Umate religious organisation. On a typical rain day, the bright blue flames of Umate were extinguished. Today was no exception.

Rain pounded the windshield of the speeder Mace Windu had borrowed from the Temple. Even with the windscreen wipers at full blast, he had to slow the speeder to half speed to see anything.

"I've never been to Monument Plaza on a rain day!" Stass yelled over the downpour. "It seems like it rains even harder than in Federal District."

"It's the altitude!" Windu yelled back, coming to a hover. All of the covered speeder parking spots were full. Damn. He sighed, slowly hovering to the nearly empty rooftop of the parking garage.

Through the rainy mist, all around were the thin pointy towers of Mt Umate Hospital. Aside from the nearest six buildings, none of the cityscape was visible in any direction.

Stass pulled her umbrella out in anticipation.

Once the speeder landed, Mace Windu reached for his own. Blast this weather!

Stass stepped out, gasping as she unfurled her umbrella—brown and white, emblazoned with the Crest of the Jedi Order.

Mace Windu frowned.

"Are you coming?!" Stass yelled incredulously.

"That umbrella is ridiculous!" he scoffed, unfurling his own—a Navy-issued dark green one.

"The Younglings have been making them. All proceeds go to the war orphans."

"Oh," Windu frowned, scowling as a few stray water drops sprayed onto his face. "Remind me to buy one."

After shutting the speeder doors tightly, the two Jedi ran across the parking garage rooftop, making as quickly as they could for the stairs.

o.o.o.o.o

Thoroughly damp, Mace Windu and Stass Allie arrived at the visitors' desk, flashing their Peacekeeper IDs.

Behind the visitors desk sat a huge Vratix, at least 2 meters talls with a triangular head, two giant compound eyes, dangling antennae, and four arms. Oddly, this particular Vratix wore Cerulean hospital scrubs, fitting poorly over the creature's thin insectoid body.

Mace Windu had seen Vratix before, but never outside of Thyferra. He had heard rumours that many Vratix had been hired by private hospitals to excrete Kavam right here on Coruscant; in addition to employing cheap handy nurses with four arms, this would hypothetically allow hospitals to manufacture their own Bacta with imported Alazhi. Given the anti-insectoid prejudice many humans held and the monopoly the corporations had over the substance, the Jedi Master had disbelieved it was possible.

"Masters Jedi," the Vratix clicked, raising three delicate spindly fingers, "how may we be of service?"

With a polite smile, Stass spoke serenely. "We are hoping to speak with the visitor of a guest at this hospital, Bodzho Se'lab, and his brother—a patient—Polo Se'lab." Water dripped from her white tendrils and robe sleeves.

"We meaning both of us, not just her," Windu added sternly, wringing out his dangling soaking wet sleeve.

"Understood," the Vratix replied in a mix of a growly voice and insectoid clicks, typing furiously on two different keyboards at once. "Nurse Garro will meet you… Now."

The sliding doors to the left of the visitor's desk parted.

Dumbfounded, Mace Windu stared ahead into empty air. "Uh…"

"Come with me," a cheery baritone male voice said.

Mace Windu looked down and suddenly spotted a short male Ardennian, also wearing cerulean scrubs. "They sure like hiring the four-armed," he whispered quietly to Stass Allie.

o.o.o.o.o

Polo Se'lab was being given the strangest Bacta treatment Mace Windu had ever seen. Rather than the usual full-body dive tank, he was seated in a tiny bacta cube—uninjured head poking out of the top, which allowed him to speak.

"I am grateful you have finally come to speak with me," Polo growled sternly, scowling as he regarded the two Jedi. "Why did you not visit me yesterday?"

Windu stared at the Bothan's face, unable to get over how long his whiskers were.

"Yes, I have the same question," Bodzho agreed, sitting in a plastic chair next to Polo. Like his brother, Bodzho's fur varied from tan to blonde, and he had soft amber eyes.

That was largely where their similarities ended. Bodzho was shorter, stockier, and a lot more muscular. His mane was frizzy, curly, dishevelled and grey. If Mace Windu did not know he was the Foreign Minister of Bothawui, he would have guessed Bodzho was a cantina bouncer with a sense of humour.

"Actually," Stass Allie started—

"—Senator, could you tell us a little about what happened to you?" Windu interrupted strategically, sensing the Tholothian was about to reveal the truth. The Bothans believe we are personally investigating Polo Se'lab's attempted assassination. Maybe we should be investigating that after all...

Stass frowned, giving the human her death stare.

"Well," Polo sighed, fur twirling unhappily. "It all began when Shidar Zhol'skar, the Junior Senator, came to me with a problem—not that I blame her at all for what happened..."

Stass Allie and Mace Windu stood patiently by, listening to Polo's animated details of his ordeal. Several portions of the story drew Mace Windu's attention. The fact he was hunted down by Clan Fey goons in the halls of Phare Mall and that it had something to do with Trajan Kran, for one. Another matter was having Itoll Oc'skar slip away from his protection

"So Jedi," Bodzho said, staring at Stass Allie and Mace Windu, "what are you going to do about it?"

"We have some information for you—And questions," Mace Windu said sternly. "We were wondering why you didn't personally give us this extradition request."

Bodzho opened his snout in protest. "What extradition re—What?" he snarled incredulously, fur bristling as he unfolded the crumpled flimsiplast Mace Windu passed him. "I did not stamp this! Who is Lir Sey'les?"

Stass Allie gasped in shock. "Your Undersecretary, Nif Far'lis, she was there! Would she forge your signature?"

"Never," Bodzho scoffed. "Or… Or would she… No she couldn't! I have my stamp right here. It's the only copy. But still..." He began pressing buttons on his wrist-holo, dialing someone.

"Well someone has a copy," Mace Windu muttered quietly.

"Indeed," Stass Allie noted. "Why use a stamp? It is so—"

"—Nif? Nif, are you able to speak? This is urgent," he growled.

A moment later, appeared the holopresence of a Bothan female. She bore an exact resemblance to the being the Jedi had seen in the hangar. "Yes, I can talk for a bit," she said. Her holopresence took steps, but stood still on Bodzho's wrist. "What's going on?"

Strikingly, her voice did not sound very much like the Bothan Mace had heard speak earlier in the day. "Stass?"

"Yeah… It's not her," Stass agreed.

"The Jedi say you've been using my—"

"Minister, it's not her," Mace Windu interrupted. "The Bothan impersonating Nif Far'lis had a completely different voice."

"Impersonating?!" Nif yelped, fur falling flat.

"They impersonated Nif and stole my stamp," Bodzho gasped. He began shaking with rage, snarling in fury. "THEY STOLE MY STAMP!"

o.o.o.o.o

"One hospital… Two hospitals," Mace Windu groaned. "But, this is urgent," he reminded himself. The rain was now falling lighter on the windscreen, allowing the Jedi Master to zip through the empty traffic lanes.

In the distance, the hulking Judicial Arcology was visible in the mist. The smaller Jedi Temple was not yet visible.

"Blast," Stass said angrily under her breath. "I cannot believe it. We dropped the ball on this one so horribly!"

"I sense Wulf will know something," Mace Windu said, some hope in his voice.

o.o.o.o.o

Amazingly, less than a week after being blasted in the back of the head, Wulf was conscious. Thick bandages over his head, he sat up in bed, staring at Mace Windu and Stass Allie sleepily.

"He's been through six surgeries," warbled Dr Nik Makron, Wulf's golden-feathered Calibop brain surgeon. "Do you know how many beings survive a blaster shot to the head at point blank range?"

Wulf blinked, frowning slightly. Stass Allie looked back into his eyes, smiling.

Mace Windu shrugged.

"Not very many," Dr Makron answered wryly.

"Well, you have done a fantastic job then," Windu said placatingly.

"Not I," Dr Makron scoffed. "I mean, sure I helped, but this was 50% his thick Ardennian skull, 50% his stubbornness—I mean look at him!" The Calibop gestured to Wulf's bed with a squawk.

Both sets of arms folded over his chest, Wulf looked both tired and grumpy.

Why isn't Wulf saying anything? Mace Windu wondered, a worried crease crossing his forehead. "Ensign Wulf, I am Master Windu, this is—"

"—Wulf and I have met," Stass Allie interrupted. "Well Wulf, it is truly wonderful to see you again!"

Looking increasingly frustrated, Wulf waved his arms in a scooping motion, slurring incoherent noises coming from his snout.

"Oh dear," Mace Windu sighed. "I am so—So sorry. I didn't know!"

"Nonsense," Dr Makron chuckled. "Wulf is coherent, he just hasn't learned to work his jaw yet." Trotting across the room, the Calibop passed a datapad to Wulf the Ardennian. "You'll see, it's amazing!"

"It is good to see you again, Master Jedi," a male robot voice said, echoing from the Ardennian's datapad. Wulf looked up at Windu and Stass, then back down to his datapad. "I heard Sey'les was arrested, which is why I have not been able to tell her I am done."

Mace Windu walked right up to the Ardennian's bedside to more easily hear the datapad's speaker.

"Done with what?" Stass asked.

"Done with her," the datapad answered. A single tear rolled out of his right eye. "It's not that I don't still love her, but… Maybe when she gets out of prison things can change, but for now I am too angry. The cost… The danger to us all…"

"About that," Mace Windu interjected. "We were wanting to ask you about the danger."

"What do you mean?"

"Well son," the human sighed, scratching the back of his neck. He took a deep breath. "There isn't an easy way to tell you—mind you, we are doing everything in our power to locate her but—"

"—Sey'les escaped from prison?" the datapad asked in a bored robotic monotone. Wulf's eyes though were wide in complete and utter shock. "She escaped from the Temple?"

"No," Stass Allie croaked. "Some Bothans abducted her from the Temple."

"Bothans broke into the Jedi Temple and took Sey'les? How come this is not on the news?"

"There is no easy way to say this," Mace Windu sighed, "nor any way to really dress it up and make what happened sound intelligent or reasonable. You have my full condolences. We lost Sey'les. It was my fault. The Bothans pretended to have legitimate extradition orders and we believed them. Now, if there is anything—"

"—You lost Sey'les?" the robotic datapad voice asked in the same monotone, but the Ardennian's face was scrunched in fury, baring small but sharp teeth. "You lost Sey'les."

"Now, I sense great confusion in you," Mace Windu said in a disarming tone, lowering his hands. "But we need to hear what sort—"

Wulf reached forward, grabbing the front of Mace Windu's damp robes.

Windu recoiled, pulling back as hard as he could, startled by the Ardennian's strength and anger. "Let go of me!"

Alarms began blared as Wulf pulled Mace Windu towards him with two hands. A small stream of blood trickled down from under his bandage, past his eye. He trembled with rage, opening his snout wide as if ready to bite.

"Wulf!" Stass yelled.

"HIS HEART RATE IS—HOLY HELL!" the Calibop squawked. "NURSE! NURSE!"

Windu pushed out with the Force, knocking the Ardennian back against the wall. He slunk down onto the bed, coughing and sputtering. Nurses rushed past on both sides, one injecting Wulf with something, two more gently carrying him over to his pillow.

"I am going to have to ask you to leave, Master Jedi," Dr Makron hissed, jabbing Mace Windu's chest with his feathered hand.

"My sincerest apologies," Mace Windu gulped.

Stass Allie took his arm and guided him from the room.

Windu was now struggling to recenter himself. The image of the furious bandaged Ardennian, blood trickling down his face, was burned into his mind like the afterimage of a sun. Wulf was like an organic Corusca gem, cracking down the middle under his own anguish.