Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 05_ Allies - Christie Golden [17]
That had been the deal that Mardek Mool had proposed. He hadn’t said in so many words that it had been Daala’s idea, but he hadn’t had to. It was ironic that Chief of State Natasi Daala, who had been so incensed at that type of action when ordered by Jacen Solo, had been so comfortable with asking Tahiri to betray those who trusted her a second time. It seemed that Daala thought that two wrongs made a right. Because Tahiri had killed Gilad Pellaeon, and lied and deceived in order to do so, it was somehow “right” for her to lie and deceive again. The only difference was, this time it was Daala’s enemies, not her friends, that Tahiri was supposed to betray.
But it wasn’t right. Tahiri was not about to walk the same misguided path again. She realized that her chances of being found not guilty were, to put it mildly, poor. Make that slim to none. Not even Han Solo would gamble on it.
She didn’t believe the courts were completely corrupted. Just mostly.
The Jedi had tried to get Nawara Ven to represent her—something she hadn’t expected, something that moved her. She wasn’t surprised that Judge Lorteli had forbidden Ven to do so. Mool, the next advocate, had been sincere in wanting to help, but hadn’t been up to the task.
Real help had come from an unexpected, but welcome source. Jaina Solo had come to visit her two days ago, smiling as she told Tahiri that “someone was able to find a good representative for you.” The someone, of course, had to be Jagged Fel, and the knowledge, like the willingness of the Jedi to support her, had surprised and touched Tahiri.
This new attorney would be arriving at any minute. She knew that he had once been highly respected, but had retired some years ago. That he was a Bothan named Eramuth Bwua’tu. She wondered if he was any relation to Admiral Nek Bwua’tu. There was a lengthy list of cases he had won, but she had no way here to research them, and they had all transpired before she’d even been born. She wasn’t sure what to expect.
The door swung open and she stood, her heart beating slightly faster. Tahiri, don’t, just don’t, don’t hope too much—
She blinked. He was, without a doubt, the most elegant being she had ever seen.
Taller than most Bothans, and very thin, he looked like he had stepped out of another era. His fur was dark brown and sleek, though it was thinning slightly with age. Around his muzzle and cheeks, it was snowy white, in stark contrast with the brown, and perfectly groomed. He extended a hand to her, and she took it, noting that he wore gloves.
The rest of his attire was equally as formal. A small, oddly jaunty hat sat between his two ears. His vest, long coat, and trousers looked perfectly tailored, the coat fitting his narrow shoulders, the trouser creases knife-sharp. His boots gleamed, and he sported a cane, black and simple, but with a stylized handle sporting the finely carved head of some animal Tahiri did not recognize. In the same hand he had a small black bag that looked to be made of nerfhide.
“Eramuth Bwua’tu, Esquire,” the dapper being said. His handshake was firm, but not too much, and he looked her right in the eye in an interested manner. His voice was deep and mellifluous and resonant. Tahiri could just imagine it carrying in a court of law, with Eramuth crying out something like “I object!” or, more floridly, “Beings of the jury, search your hearts for justice!”
“Tahiri Veila,” she managed. A small smile played at the corners of her mouth. Why?
“I’ve been asked to represent you,” Eramuth continued. “Please, miss, do sit down.”
“I’d rather stand.”
He smiled. It was utterly charming. With a rueful shake of the cane, he said, “Ah, but I’m afraid that I would rather sit, and good breeding forbids me doing so unless you do.” He winked.
Tahiri sat. Again,