Chapter 14

The funeral was held on Alderaan. She may have been native to Tatooine, but here was her home. Only a few of those friends who had survived the chaos attended, and some others visited all the way from Tatooine to pay their respects. A General Skywalker had been placed in charge of the relief efforts and, upon hearing of his old friend's death, even went so far as to abandon his command just to say his final goodbyes to the friend he had once held so dear.

Arakai placed the first torch on the pyre. He helped Alikai place the second after which everyone else followed suit. He stood completely speechless as he watched the flames consume his beloved wife. He was angry, sad, confused; he wanted to cry but he couldn't find the tears. He wanted to scream in agony but the silence was unbreakable. All he could do was hold his son close to his chest and comfort him for the loss of his mother.

There was no reception after the ceremony; most of those who had come had other funerals to attend as well. He sat at a table, eyeing the Jedi from across the way while Alikai slept next to him in a baby carrier.

"It wasn't his fault," Shetka said, noticing the path of Arakai's sight, "He wasn't even here."

"His order shouldn't have been either," Arakai answered, "They're supposed to be peacekeepers, not soldiers. You can't keep peace by taking sides." Every word was spoken with disdain.

"Arakai, the Separatists invade planets and force them to relinquish their supplies. Sometimes it's a peacekeeper's job to defend those unable to defend themselves."

"The Republic sends their clone armies to invade any planet that rejects them. This is exactly why they're not allowed to draft; they assert their dominance over anyone who disagrees with them."

"Planet governments do not have the right to secede from the Republic."

"On whose authority, Shetka? Who wrote those laws? The Senate did. They're afraid of losing the power they already hold. If they wanted this war to end, they'd negotiate peace between both sides, but the truth is that too many of them directly profit from this war. Ending it would end their cash flow."

"Arakai, the Senate doesn't profit from war."

"The Kaminoins do!" Arakai was becoming angry with his friend, "They produce every clone the Republic has! You don't think they do that for free, do you?"

"And the Trade Federation produces expensive battle droids by the billions," Shetka countered, "Yes, there's corruption in the Republic but there's just as much with the separatists."

"The separatists are fighting to free us from corruption," Arakai's voice was raised, "They're the only group willing to stand up to the Supreme Chancellor and tell him he can't force his control on us anymore. Even the Jedi grovel at his feet. They're supposed to be a religious order, not a military establishment. Tell me why they can't be neutral in all this."

"Arakai, you're not thinking clearly," Shetka tried to explain, "In fighting for the Republic the Jedi are keeping the peace. If the Republic allows the Separatists to leave then the individual planet governments will see them as weak. More and more will abandon them and then everything we think of as normal now will cease to exist. Think of the problems it would cause for space travel, trade agreements; wars would break out between planets over trivial things, things which could have been settled quickly and quietly in the Senate. A Separatist victory just means more innocent bloodshed."

Arakai's expression was as stern as could be. "Innocent blood has already been shed, and the Republic was powerless to stop it," he responded, "It's long past time for the Senate to be put out of power. The Separatist will need every man they can get to fight them."

Shetka's look turned to concern. "Arakai," he asked, "You're not thinking of joining the Separatists, are you?"

Arakai looked his friend directly in the eye. "I can't stand by and watch this galaxy tear itself apart when I know I have the ability to help free it from tyranny. This war has gone on long enough, Shetka. It's time someone step in to end it."

"Arakai, think about what you're doing," Shetka warned, "Think what this will do to Alikai. If you die…"

There was an eerie silence for a second. Arakai looked at his son, then back to Shetka. "I'm sorry, but I have to do this." A hint of sadness was in his voice, but there was no question as to the resolve found in it as well.

Shetka nodded. "I don't support this," he stated, "But I won't stop you either."

"I know I can't ask this of you," Arakai began.

"Don't worry," Shetka stopped him, "I'll take care of him. Just don't get yourself killed."

"Thank you."

There was nothing left to be said. In all his life Arakai had never felt a rift so great between him and Shetka. But at least his son would be safe, and that was all that mattered to him anymore.