Disclaimer: Peace is a lie; there is only fashion.

CHAPTER TWO: Qui-Gon Jinn Is A Pirate

"You're leaving?"

Master Tholme calmly continued packing. "I'm afraid so. I have been assigned as the Watchman to the Kiffu Sector; I anticipate I shall be gone for quite some time."

Understanding dawned. "Oh, I get it. Assigned as a 'Watchman'; you're going undercover, aren't you?"

A sigh from Master Tholme. "No Padawan, I am not. However, I am pleased to see that you have reached the desired conclusion. When I said that I had been assigned as a Watchman, I was being completely truthful."

Desired conclusion? The kriff? Mace's thoughts swam in confusion. Then he shook his head; there were more important questions to be asked. "But…but you're the Master of Shadows! How are you supposed to run things if you're stranded out…out in the Kiffu Sector?"

"The answer is quite simple, Padawan Windu," Tholme grunted as he slammed a trunk lid down, "I am not."

For once in his life, Mace genuinely did not know what to say.

His befuddlement must've shown quite clearly on his face, because Master Tholme gently lowered himself onto his bed and began to explain. "Tell me, Padawan; how did you know I was the Master of Shadows?"

That he knew the answer to. "Everyone knows, Master."

"Exactly, young Windu; everyone knows. Now tell me: exactly how much good is a Master of Shadows if everyone knows that's exactly what he is? In other words, when is a spy good at being a spy if everyone already knows he's a spy?"

It took a moment to process Master Tholme's statement, but in the end Mace thought he'd gotten it. "...When the spy isn't really a spy at all?"

"Correct, Padawan." said Master Tholme. And then went back to his packing.

Mace's mind was going a mile a minute. If…if Master Tholme…no…no, it couldn't be true…could it?

"You're not the Master of Shadows?" he finally asked, his voice trembling.

"Indeed, Padawan; I am not."

"But…but…why?"

"It is quite simple, Mace; why would anyone bother looking for something when they think they already know where it is? By…pretending to be the Master of Shadows, I have allowed the real one to operate mostly unhindered in plain sight. Of course, with my supposed 'reassignment', another shall have to take my place in the public's eye for the time being. The Master of Shadows can hardly run things when he's undercover, can he?"

"But you're not going undercover?"

"Correct again, Padawan; however, everyone will assuredly think I am. After all, why else would a Shadow be assigned as a Watchman? Surely not to do the job; no, there must be something more. And because people think there must be something more, they will waste time trying to figure out exactly what it is I'm supposed to be doing…all the while ignoring what's going on right here in the Temple."

Master Tholme slid a particularly old looking box into a bag, then zipped it shut. "You may recall a certain conversation some weeks ago that I shared with Master Piell; there have been other staged conversations of the like held in various places. Nothing too noticeable, but just on the edge of suspicion. Certainly enough to make people think he is my replacement."

"But he's not."

"No."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you are still going to be training with him, Mace; you and his Padawan both. Some people may try to get to him through you. You needed to be warned. And…and while not the Master, Piell is in fact, a Shadow. And has trained more than one Shadow in turn. If you wish to pursue the same that path you thought I was on, I thought it only best to point you in the direction of an appropriate teacher. It was no coincidence that Master Dooku mentioned his name as an Ataru instructor; the Force works in mysterious ways, Padawan. Whatever you decide, know that I will do my best to help you along your way. Even if, Force forbid, that means more Ataru lessons."

A small smile wormed its way onto Mace's face, and then disappeared as he once more brought his emotions under control. "And…and Master Saa?"

Master Tholme froze.

Hurriedly, Mace tried to fix his mistake. "I know…there are things…that you…you both feel. And…and I know that, well, leaving is supposed to be hard. But…but did you ask?"

"...Ask her what, Padawan Windu."

Well, his grave was already dug. Might as well lie down in it. "If she would go with you."

"...Yes." Tholme said softly. "Yes, I asked. But she said her duty and place was with you. As it should be."

The man seemed to jerk himself from a trance, and then smiled as he clasped Mace on the shoulder. "You are the pride and joy of us both, Mace; and it wouldn't be fair of us to deny you the best possible education solely for our own purposes. So T'ra is staying. Staying to help you with whatever she can. She cares for you, Mace; and so do I."

If anyone later claimed that Mace had hugged Master Tholme as he said goodbye, Mace would've denied it vigorously.

It would have been a lie.

Mace grunted as his arms once more traced unfamiliar paths through the air; at least with Form IV he'd been starting with more or less a clean slate. But Soresu?

Soresu had been constructed around Makashi; and Mace was finding it extremely difficult to unlearn everything Master Saa had taught him.

Well, almost everything. The footwork was still the same.

"Remember, keep your arms loose," came the voice of Master Sifo-Dyas, "it is from the wrist that your deflections must come. You may begin to use the strength of your arms when, and only when, your opponent begins to tire. Again!"

Mace resisted the urge to groan as he moved once more through the kata. He had made the mistake of pointing out one could hardly wait for a training droid to get tired once and only once; what had followed had been nothing short of pure torture. So much for Jedi compassion.

Finally, after an eternity of push, pull, block, deflect…

"Enough."

Mace came to a stuttering halt, arms still held mid-twist in a parry.

"You are improving, Padawan Windu; consider me surprised. You are dismissed for the rest of the day."

Sucking in a breath, Mace deactivated his blade and bowed to Master Dyas. "Thank you Master."

Master Dyas merely raised an eyebrow, then spun and strode from the room. Mace snorted. He had to have learned that from Dooku.

The sound of footsteps behind him heralded the arrival of his…well, he would say 'friend', but that seemed rather a poor descriptor for their developing relationship. Then again, going beyond the word 'friend' had caused quite a lot of trouble for Jinn, so maybe he'd best keep to the shallows. "Adi; I thought you had an Astronavigation essay due?"

Adi smiled. "I can neither confirm nor deny. Nice of Master Dyas to let you go early; usually I have to wait at least half-an-hour for you to finish."

Mace's face blushed red; thank the Force no one else had been around to hear that remark. "You know you could just come later, right?"

"But it's so much fun to watch you in the middle of an existential crisis!"

He groaned. "Adiiiiiiiii…"

"Maaaaaace." she drawled back. "C'mon; you can help me with my essay, and I can help you with that paper on the Agri-Corps that you were supposed to finish last week and didn't."

"You know about that?"

"Mace-on-a-chain, the only person who doesn't know is Master Saa. Really, you'd think after a thousand years she'd get better about making her comm password something actually hard to guess."

"Adi! You can't just do things like that!"

She giggled. "Ah, but I can, Mace-on-a-chain! But if you'd rather I didn't…I guess you'll just have to get to work on that paper."

"Ugh; fine. I hate having to write about the Living Force."

"Jedi do not hate, Padawan Windu," sniffed Adi, "we merely severely dislike."

"Fine then; I severely dislike it. Happy?"

"Very. C'mon then!"

As he trailed behind his friend, Mace pondered her words. True, Jedi weren't supposed to hate; but Jedi weren't supposed to play favorites either. And if people like Qui-Gon Jinn were going to ignore particular tenants of the Code…then Mace would just have to ignore the rest of them in turn.

Balance.

Just the way Mace liked it.

"So," Master Dooku sipped his tea, "how are your studies progressing?"

This was the first time Mace had ever come to tea with the man alone; Master Saa had been called away by Master Nu to consult on some obscure Archival matter since, you know, she'd been there. And so far, Mace was enjoying it far more than he'd thought he would. They'd been talking for almost fifteen minutes, and only now was the man moving into slightly uncomfortable territory.

"They've been…" Mace ran his hand through his hair, "Time-consuming, Master. Master Dyas is a perfectionist; something I usually admire."

"Except when said perfectionism results in painful experiences, hm?"

"Something like that, Master."

"Indeed. And your Form IV?"

"Master Piell is hopeful, Master. It helps to have someone on an equal footing to spar with."

"Yes, I'll imagine it does. A true pity that both Soresu and Makashi have fallen out of favor with the youth."

"Master Saa would agree with you, Master. And so would I."

"Flattery will get you everything, my boy." Master Dooku leaned back in his chair; a rare sight indeed. Usually the man sat as stiff as a board. "Speaking of equal footing…I hear you've been getting on quite well with Master Piell's Padawan. Gallia, wasn't it?"

"Yes, sir. Adi Gallia."

"I see. Tholothian?"

"I believe so sir, but she has indicated she's actually from Corellia."

"And the Corellians did not believe she was suited for the Green Jedi? My, my. What is the world coming to. I shall have to dig up Master Halcyon's comm number. And your opinion of her, Padawan Windu?"

Was Dooku fishing for information? Or was it something else? Mace remembered all too well the revelation that Master Tholme wasn't actually a Shadow; and that Dooku had been the one to recommend Master Piell. Could…could Dooku be the Master of Shadows? It was a possibility.

Which meant Mace would have to answer the question very carefully, lest he destroy Adi's own chances at becoming a Shadow herself (if that was even what she wanted).

Slowly, Mace began to speak. "She is…kind. But not nice. She's serene, but not emotionless. Not a dedicated duelist, but more in tune with the Force during a spar than most. I think…I think she's quite good at being whoever she needs to be at any given time. If…if that answers the question, sir?"

Dooku's steely eyes stared down into his. "Hmm. One of them, at least. And now, we may relax, Padawan; I have no doubt your Master will be joining us shortly."

"Really?"

"Of course. I have never known Jocasta Nu to suffer T'ra Saa's presence in the Archive for longer than half-an-hour at most." Dooku leaned forward as if to impart some great secret. "I think Madame Nu isn't all that fond of being treated like a youngling. Which, to a fifteen hundred year old woman, is an extremely hard habit to break."

Mace resisted the urge to snort. "Quite."

"But while we wait," with a flourish, Dooku suddenly held a pack of cards in his hand, "how would you like to learn how to cheat at Sabacc?"

"...Not Alderaanian chess, sir?" he asked, half-jokingly.

To his surprise, Dooku proceeded to not only choke on his tea, but collapse into a coughing fit that lasted for some time. Finally, when the man eventually composed himself, Dooku managed to rasp out a reply. "Ah…yes…well…extremely hard to play that with only two people, Padawan. But I shall…make a note of it! Yes, make a note of it; for later, when your Master can join us. Purely for instructive purposes, of course. Why, I remember quite fondly the times I spent with Masters Nu and Sifo-Dyas engaged in a fervent bout of Alderaanian chess; let us, ah, hope you find some equally…entertaining…partners."

Mace was quite sure he'd missed something; whatever he'd said had ruffled Master Dooku quite badly. Still, it wasn't good sport to ask just what he'd done, so the best he could do was provide an out to the conversation.

Mace reached over to begin clearing the tea service. "How exactly does one cheat at Sabacc, then?"

"Mace?"

"Yes, Master Saa?"

"Would you kindly explain why Dooku has sent round a packet with a hundred credits in it, with a note that he's gotten you banned from the Padawan's Sabacc Tournament?"

"It's quite simple, Master Saa; the usage of Shatterpoints in Sabacc was deemed illegal in all official Temple card games over thirteen hundred years ago. I was ignorant of the fact, and Master Dooku was ignorant of my ability; at least until he asked how in the Force I was cheating so magnificently."

"...Ah. Well that explains it then. Thirteen hundred years…must have been that Vizsla fellow. Odd sort; sometimes I still wonder why he never accepted anyone's invitation to play Alderaanian chess…"

Some weeks passed, and Master Dooku seemed to have forgotten all about teaching Mace Alderaanian chess. Mace had of course researched the rules on his own time, but trying to force his brain to account for three players on a dejarik board meant for two was exceedingly painful. As for what could've caused such an irreconcilable reaction in Master Dooku at it's mention…Mace had found nothing. And so he decided to let the matter drop; for the moment.

His Ataru continued to improve, but unfortunately, Adi's did not. His opinion of her skills with the Form proved to be right on the money; pure lightsaber combat was simply not her forte. Master Piell would never say a word against his apprentice's ability, but Mace could see the disappointment in Adi's eyes every time the Lannik adjourned their Ataru practice early. Even Master Saa had noted the look on Adi's face after a particularly bad session, and for some Force-forsaken reason, saw fit to mention it to Dooku during one of their weekly teas.

"I'll see what I can do," the man had said, and for many weeks not another word had been said on the subject.

But at last, the invitation to weekly tea was formally extended to both 'Master Piell and Padawan Gallia', and Mace found himself staring down quite possibly the largest Shatterpoint he'd ever seen; larger even than his duel with Tahl.

Surprisingly, there were actually two focal points of said Shatterpoint; both people. And what's more, people Mace had never even heard of before that moment.

"Masters T'ra Saa and Even Piell; Padawans Mace Windu and Adi Gallia," proclaimed Dooku, "might I have the dubious honor of introducing my former apprentice, Jedi Knight Rael Aveross, as well as his own current Padawan, Agen Kolar."

Rael Aveross looked, if Mace was putting it mildly, like a first-rate scoundrel. Like the sort of Jedi that got into trouble cheating their way through a Sabacc tournament, and then donated all of their stolen credits to charity the minute some poor homeless orphan blinked up at them. And yet, his apprentice was the far more interesting of the two; convenient, since he was the one Mace had been shuffled into the kitchen with to 'keep an eye on the kettle'.

An Iridonian Zabrak; a rarity in the Order. Built like a mining droid, with massive forearms and shoulders to match; Mace had no doubt the Padawan could bench press him and Adi both at the same time if he so wished. That, combined with the heavy tread of his boots (obviously meant to supply as much traction as possible) equalled…

"Let me guess," Mace asked, "Djem So?"

Kolar laughed; it was a nice laugh. "To my Master's great regret; his own talents lie with Niman."

Niman? Mace thought…and then thought some more, as certain past conversations with Master Dooku were recalled to memory. "I see. Am I correct in assuming that Master Dooku intends for Master Aveross to teach Padawan Gallia Form VI, and that he has recruited my own Master to help convince Master Piell to allow it?"

Agen cocked his head and smirked. "Say 'Master' enough times in that sentence, you think?"

Mace groaned. "Oh, don't get me started. Once in an essay I had to use the blasted word thirty-seven times in the space of a single paragraph."

"Oooh, sounds painful." commiserated Kolar. "I remember those days quite well."

Mace let out a snort. "You can't be much older than me, and we both know it."

"Old enough to pull rank, Padawan Windu."

"Well in that case do forgive me, Padawan Kolar. But unless you wish to find your tea replaced with Mandalorian shig, I suggest you respect your equals."

Kolar blinked. "...Do you even know where to get shig?"

"For you, I'd find out."

"I'm sure you would."

And for a while, there was companionable silence.

"...Say, Kolar…"

"Yes, Windu?"

"Do you, by any chance, happen to know how to play Alderaanian chess?"

"Can't say that I've ever even heard of it. Do you know?"

"I have a rough understanding. See, the thing is, you need three people to play, and…well…other than Adi, I'm not really on good terms with that many people."

"Oh it's Adi, is it?"

Mace felt a blush cross his face as he pretended to check the tea."

"...Ah ha. Well, I can't say that it sounds all that interesting, but in the name of all things embarrassing, I'll give it a try. What sort of times do you have free next tenday?"

"Hey Adi?"

"Yeah Mace?"

"Agen and I are going to play Alderaanian chess after this spar; wanna join?"

"Alderaanian chess...isn't that the one that you need three people for?"

"That's the one."

"Hmm. Well, I suppose one game couldn't hurt…"

"Who would've guessed that chess could ever be this fun?"

"Speak for yourself, Adi, you've won five out of seven so far."

"Oh pipe down, Agen, you've taken both our queens already this match."

"Now if he could just lay off my bishops." Mace grumbled.

"Don't be a poor sport, Mace."

"Yeah, buck up Windu. Remember, you've at least won."

"True. Your move, Adi."

"Ah hah! And there goes the last of your knights, Kolar!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO….!"

"Done yet?"

"...Yeah, okay I'm done. Say goodbye to your rook, Mace."

"Haar'chaak!"

"Yan?"

"Yes T'ra?"

"Do you happen to have any idea exactly why it is my Padawan has suddenly become quite close to two, and only two, other people his age?"

"...Ah. I do believe, my dear T'ra, that they are discovering the joys of Alderaanian chess."

"...Is that so? Good on them, then. Pass the scones, please."

"With pleasure, my dear. If I'm not being too bold…when was the last time you personally partook in that glorious game?"

"Just before Master Tholme left, Yan."

"...I understand, T'ra. And the third?"

"Now that would be telling, Yan."

"So it would. More cream?"

"Yes please."