Shatterpoint

So, doshalo. Here we are. For the last time.

"Perhaps." The shape smoked with power. More power than Mace had ever felt.

And he was so tired. So hurt. The lightsaber wound in his belly radiated pain that scraped away his strength.

The shadow beckoned. Come on, then: jungle rules.

"On the contrary," Mace said slowly. "Jedi rules." What are Jedi rules'?

"You don't need to know," Mace told him. "You're not a Jedi." Vibroshields whined to life. I am waiting for you, Jedi of the Windu.

Mace extended a hand, and his lightsaber found it.

He stood, waiting.

"You fear to attack me.

"Jedi do not fear," Mace said. "And we do not attack. As long as you stand in peace, so do I. You have just learned two of the Jedi rules. For what little good they will do you. You haven't been paying very close attention, Kar. And it's too late to start now. It's over." Nothing is over! NOTHING. Not while we both live.

"This is another Jedi rule." Mace took a couple of steps to one side, to find a space of floor where he didn't have to fear tripping over a body. "If you fight a Jedi, you've already lost." The dark shape came closer. Fine words from a man I've beaten before.

"The starfighters have been ordered off. The city will stand. They've surrendered to the Republic. We have no reason to fight." Men like us are our own reason.

Mace shook his head. "This isn't a big dog thing. If I must, I will hurt you. Badly." You can't bluff me.

"No, but I can kill you. Though I would rather not." More Jedi rules?

Mace sagged. "Do you have a move to make? I'm too tired for this." Sleep when you're dead, Vaster snarled, and leaped.

Ultrachrome flashed. Mace could have met him, blade to shields, but instead he slipped aside.

He had no intention of fighting this man. Not here and now. Not anywhere. Not ever.

Vastor was younger, stronger, faster, and immensely more powerful, and he wielded weapons that could not be harmed by the Jedi blade. Mace couldn't win such a battle on his best day, and this day was far from his best: he was exhausted, badly wounded, and heartsick.

But the fact that his lightsaber couldn't hurt those shields didn't make them invulnerable.

As Vastor gathered himself to spring again, Mace reached into the Force. The vibroshield stuck into the wall above Nick's head squealed against the bunker's armor as it came to life and pulled itself free and streaked like a missile toward Vastor's back.

Vastor's incredible reflexes whirled him, and those same reflexes snapped his shields in front of his chest in plenty of time to block- But they didn't actually block anything.

There was a reason why, when Vastor's shields met to make that metallic howl, he always brought them together back-to-back, instead of edge-to-edge.

The flying shield's vibrating edge sheared through both Vastor's shields, through both his wrists, and buried itself in the bone of his chest, stopping less than a centimeter short of his heart.

Vastor blinked astonishment at Mace as though the Jedi Master had betrayed him.

Mace said, "You were warned." Vastor's head shook weakly, suddenly palsied. He dropped to his knees. You've killed me.

He sounded like he couldn't make himself believe it.

"No," Mace said. "That's another of the Jedi rules. Killing you is not the answer for your crimes. You're going back to Coruscant. You're going to stand trial." Vaster swayed. His gaze went blank and blind.

"Kar Vaster," said Mace Windu, "you are under arrest." Vaster pitched forward. Mace caught him and turned him face-up before lowering the unconscious lor pelek to the floor.

Then he pulled himself back to his feet, leaning on the console.

His vision grayed and lost focus; for a moment he wasn't sure where he was. This might have been Palpatine's office. Or the interrogation room at the Ministry of Justice. The Intel station, or the dead room at the Lorshan Pass.

Perhaps even the Jedi Temple. but the Jedi Temple wouldn't ever smell like this.

Would it?

"Master Windu?" He remembered the voice, and it brought him back to the command bunker.

"Is it over?" Geptun called tentatively from the transceiver chamber. He sounded very old, and more than a little lost. "Can I come out now?" Mace looked down at Kar Vastor, and the spreading pool of blood in which he lay. He looked at the scattered corpses of clone troopers and militia techs. He looked at Nick Rostu, crumpled against the wall.

"Master Windu?" Geptun's head appeared slowly over the rim of the hole in the floor. "Did we win?" Mace looked at the sad, shrunken form of Depa Billaba, and thought about his victory conditions.

"I seem to be," Mace Windu said slowly, "the last one standing." It was the only answer he had.

AFTERWORD THE JEDI" S WAR FROM THE PRIVATE JOURNALS OF MACE WlNDU: I still dream of Geonosis.

But my dreams are different, now.

A Republic task force arrived to take possession of Haruun Kal and the Al'har system within forty-eight standard hours of my arrest of Kar Vaster; it seems they had already been dispatched to answer a distress call from the acting commander of the Halieck.

Their landing was unopposed.

The Republic will not occupy Haruun Kal; acting under my authority as General of the Grand Army of the Republic, I redesignated the Koru

Because I have decided to treat the Summertime War as a law enforcement problem.

Which it would have always been, had the financial interests behind the thyssel bark trade not been able to buy off certain Senators and Judicial sector coordinators.

We are in the process of disarming the jungle prospectors and the remaining bands of Koru

The planetary militia remains, though at greatly reduced strength. The militia regulars will now become what they should always have been.