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Wild Space (Star Wars: The Clone Wars)
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About Wild Space
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. THEN: THE BATTLE OF GEONOSIS, AFTERMATH GEONOSIS, HARSH RED PLANET. DUST AND ROCK AND PITILESS HEAT, wind and sand and a sky full of shards. Tenacious life. Capricious death. All moist green beauty long burned away. No second chances here, no soft place to fall. Secrets and sedition and singular minds. Ambition and gluttony and a hunger for death. Refuge for some. Graveyard for others. Blood of the Republic seeping into dry soil. Faint on the ceaseless wind, sorrow and grief. Gathered in the arena, a weeping of Jedi … Who wept their tears on the inside, where they would not be seen. To weep for a fallen comrade was to display unseemly attachment. A Jedi did not become attached to people, to things, to places, to any world or its inhabitants. A Jedi’s strength was fed by serenity. By distance. By loving impersonally. At least, that was the ideal … Weary and heart-sore, Yoda stood in silence with his fellow Master and friend Mace Windu, watching as efficient clone troopers swiftly, methodically, and not unkindly loaded the last of the slain Jedi onto repulsorlift pallets, then pushed them one-handed out of Poggle the Lesser’s brutal arena to the Republic transport ships waiting beyond its high walls. They were supervised by those few Jedi who had survived the slaughter and the military engagement that followed it … and who were not as serenely detached as Temple philosophy might dictate. The Battle of Geonosis was over, the Separatist droid army dealt a crushing setback. But its leader Count Dooku had fled, the traitor, and his underlings from the Trade Federation, the Techno Union, the Commerce Guild, the InterGalactic Banking Clan, the Hyper-Communications Cartel, and the Corporate Alliance had fled also, to safety. Fled so they might continue to plot the downfall of the galaxy’s great achievement, its Republic. “I do not regret coming here,” said Mace, his dark face darkened further by shadows. “We’ve dealt a serious blow to our enemy, and in doing so we’ve seen what this clone army is capable of. That’s useful. But Yoda, we have paid a heavier price than I imagined, or foresaw.” Yoda nodded, his gnarled fingers tight about his ancient gimer stick. “The truth you speak, Master Windu. Nothing gained, there is, without some loss also to balance the scales.” He breathed out slowly, a long, heavy sigh. “Foolish indeed would we be, to think we might escape such a confrontation unscathed. But this loss the Temple will find difficult to overcome. Into Jedi Knighthood too soon must we thrust our oldest Padawans, I fear.” Padawans like Anakin Skywalker, so bright, so reckless … and now so hurt. On his way back to Coruscant already, with Obi-Wan and the determined, brave, and equally reckless young Senator from Naboo. Trouble for him, and for her, I sense. If only clearly could I see. But a shroud the dark side is. In smothering folds it wraps us all. “What?” said Mace, frowning. Sensing his disquiet, as he always did. “Yoda, what’s wrong?” Talia Moonseeker, a young Argauun only four months into her Jedi Knighthood, was kneeling beside her fallen former Master, Va’too, head bowed. With an effort Yoda pulled his gaze away from her grief, away from the monstrous arena, still searing in the daylight. A Geonosis day lasted so long. There were yet many hours before the sun would set on this stark vista. “Answer you plainly I cannot, Master Windu,” he replied heavily. “Time for meditation, I require.” “Then you should return to the Temple,” said Mace. “I can oversee the cleanup operation here. You are our only beacon in the darkness, Yoda. Without your wisdom and foresight, I doubt we can prevail.” He meant the words kindly, a declaration of confidence, but Yoda felt the weight of them settle into his bones with a cruel finality. Too old am I to be the last hope of the Jedi. He watched as Talia Moonseeker withdrew to a discreet distance, so the body
