Disclaimer: There is no death, there is only the Borscht.

CHAPTER THREE: Qui-Gon? I Sure Hope He Is!

Time passed, as it is wont to do.

Mace and his friends 'graduated' from dueling each other one-on-one to full on free-for-all not long after Adi started making strides in Niman. It turned out Knight Aveross was far less of a strict teacher than any of the ones Mace had studied under before (save for Master Tholme), and the praise that flowed freely from his lips helped Adi out immensely.

As for Kolar's Djem So, Mace took it upon himself in the absence of Master Tholme to help out as much as he could. Which admittedly wasn't much, considering most of his time was now spent alternating between assignments, two other lightsaber Forms, and Alderaanian chess. All he could say was thank the Force that Agen turned out to be a good slicer, because without that virtual chess program he wrote, they never would've found a way to keep a game running for any decent amount of time.

Master Saa had given Mace an admittedly somewhat confusing lecture on the subject, all about 'not rushing in' and 'trying to build something that will last' and other helpful comments like that. When she'd finished, Mace had assured her that he was indeed committed to careful planning, and that he had every intention of lasting as long as he could. Reckless abandon got you absolutely nowhere in chess, after all.

Master Saa had smiled at him, and then, for some unknown reason, winked. And that had been the end of it.

Of course, as time went on, they began to develop other interests as well. Adi made the mistake of writing a political science essay comparing the drafting of the Ruusan Reformation to a year-long chess game, and her teacher immediately responded by assigning an essay meant to prove how real-life politics were in fact nothing like chess at all. By the time the dust settled, Adi had stomped her point into the ground quite vociferously by 'borrowing' Agen's code to write an actual chess simulation as an allegory for the Reformation's chain of events. True, it took half an-hour to load one move, but it worked. And Adi walked away with a taste for not just coding, but politics as well.

Agen was more than happy to indulge Adi's newfound interest in the former, as was Knight Aveross. But for her political interests, Adi turned to Master Dooku…which meant Adi was now joining the weekly tea times more often than not. And somewhere between a debate over the ethicality of the Dral'Han and a full-blown argument about the political ambitions of other Force-wielding sects…Mace found he'd fallen into the verbal arena as well.

He and Adi joined the debate club; she and Agen, the one for coding. True, Adi seemed to have less and less time to spar with them, but that was alright. If she felt lightsaber combat wasn't meant to be her true focus, then Mace would support her. He wasn't kriffing Qui-Gon Jinn.

"Halt."

Mace came to a dead stop mid-spin, halfway through the Soresu kata. "Master Dyas?"

"We are done. I have seen you grow in strength and patience, Padawan Windu; it has been masterfully done. I regret that I shall be unable to complete your training."

An icy shard of fear shot through Mace's heart; but he pulled himself up by his bootstraps and faced the challenge head on anyway. "I'm sorry to hear that, Master. Might I ask why?"

"You may. But I shall only provide a partial answer."

Mace hadn't noticed it before, but Master Dyas looked particularly old in that moment. Old, and frail. "You are aware of course, Padawan, that I sometimes suffer quite heavily from visions."

Of course he did; anyone who had any strength at all the Unifying Force sooner or later caught glimpses of what lay beyond.

"Quite recently, my visions have taken a terrible turn for the worse. It is due to the mental strain of these visions that I will be taking a step back. I am resigning my seat on the Jedi Council; I foresee far too much time in meditation to handle such a responsibility any longer. Unfortunately, that also means I will no longer have the time to instruct you as I would like, Mace."

He started; that was the first time he could ever remember Master Dyas using his first name. "But…but what will I do now, Master?"

"Now? Now, young Padawan, you must find your own path. Ataru and Soresu; attack and defense; balance. Or so it seems. But you forget, Padawan; two Forms or not, only one may grace your blade at any given time. So if you seek a final piece of instruction from me, my student, then hear this: to be fully balanced, one must find the offensive in the defensive…and the shield in the attack. And then use them to their fullest. Solah, Mace; may the Force be with you."

Mace could only watch as the elder Jedi hobbled out of the room, head bowed low under the weight of a future he could only imagine.

Without a teacher for Form III, Mace was forced to resort to Plan B…get better by letting all the Ataru and Djem So users wail on him as much as possible.

A plan that, surprisingly, was going pretty well.

True, he'd started at the observable lower-end of the spectrum in terms of skill, but he'd been trying to take Master Dyas' parting words to heart by using Soresu as offensively as possible. And that was more than enough of a handicap to work with for the moment.

He had, of course, complemented said handicap with simultaneously trying to improve his defensive Ataru; and that was something he was only willing to try with Agen. Master Piell would've given him a sound drubbing if he'd tried it in one of their duels. And, well, going on the defensive just didn't work too well against Niman, so he couldn't try with Adi either.

But despite the difficulties, time after time Mace would scrape himself off of the sparring mats and ask his opponent for another round. And most of the time, they said yes.

It was only once Mace started winning that they started turning him down.

By the time his wrists finally got strong enough for his liking, he probably could've strangled a Hutt bare-handed. A bit theatrical, but it was how things sometimes felt. Of course, once Mace began deflecting hammer-blows from Padawans on the cusp of graduating, it was then and only then that he began to understand just why it was Master Dooku loved Makashi as much as he did: the signature Makashi disarming move was one of the only ones known in lightsaber combat that posed any sort of threat at all to the wrists of a Soresu user.

It was a move Ataru had been specifically designed to counter. Or, more accurately, avoid altogether. And Mace wouldn't put it past Jinn to use it in any duel they ended up having.

So Mace began to dig; dig for any and all sources he could find on the development of Ataru, and theories as to it's defensive capabilities. Because there had to be a couple of ideas in there on how to deflect Makashi, instead of avoiding it…right?

Which is how he first drew the attention of Madame Jocasta Nu.

"I must say, Padawan, it has been quite some time since anyone accessed these particular records. Any particular reason you're looking into the origins of the Fourth Form?"

Yes, because I want to beat another Padawan without using a single aggressive move, he wanted to say. Instead, what he said was: "I was curious as to why it's creators sought to avoid direct conflict with the users of Makashi…while also developing the most aggressive Lightsaber Form to date."

Madame Nu's eyebrows flew up. "My, my, my; Yan had mentioned you were quick to notice things. And I believe I also heard something about a certain Sabacc game?"

Mace blushed, but held his ground. "It's entirely possible, Madame Nu; Master Dooku was quite put out about losing a hundred credits."

"Yes, I'd wager he was." The librarian's eyes twinkled. "So, Padawan Windu, as a gesture of thanks for bringing Yan down a peg, allow me to shed some light on the subject."

So for the next twenty minutes, Madame Nu talked, and Mace listened. When at last they were done, Mace had exactly just one question:

"How do you know all this?"

Madame Nu smiled warmly. "I used to spend quite a lot of time with Yan and Sifo sparring, I'll have you know; not just playing Alderaanian chess. Ataru was my own Form of choice, and as I've grown older I've found myself forced to adjust to the unwelcome onset of age. Hence, the need for more stationary, defensive katas to practice. Let us see how far you can take them, Padawan Windu; who knows? You might even build an entirely new lightsaber Form out of it."

An entirely new Form…now wasn't that a thought that tickled his brain. "Thank you, Madame Nu."

"Not at all. Just keep that Master of yours as far away from my Archives as possible, and we'll get along just splendidly. May the Force be with you."

"And also with you."

He left the Archives, his head awhirl with new possibilities.

For a time, Mace began to cut down on his open sparring matches. There were mounds of new theory to pour through, and Mace wasn't about to go diving head-first into the deep end.

Fortunately, that meant his time spent with Adi on politics went up in exchange.

A bit of a rivalry began to develop between the two: if Adi was heading up one side of the debate club's current topic, then Mace could more often than not be found on the opposite one. And, of course, vice versa. Mace's wins were few and far between, but that made them all the sweeter when they finally came. To his shame, he had quite loudly "WOO-HOOOOED!" when his arguments using color theory and the visible light spectrum had contributed to a win against the criticism of non-standard lightsaber colorings.

Adi had of course smacked him around quite handily the next day in the salles, but he took the beating with a smile on his face. If for no other reason than Jinn wouldn't have done the same.

Mace was out on an assignment with Master Saa when Agen and Adi sliced into the Temple's lighting system to make the lights on the side of the Temple form a rude gesture, but he heard all about it when they got back. But not, unfortunately, firsthand: Masters Piell and Aveross had informed him quite firmly that both of his friends were grounded, and would remain so for some time.

Which unfortunately left Mace short a few dueling partners.

Back to the salles he went.

He could feel the Force's hand in this; why else would he have been off-planet at the exact required time in order to avoid being grounded himself? And so he finally began to put the last phase of his plan into action: working his way up the ladder of open opponents once more. But this time with defensive Ataru.

It was Knight Aveross who first noticed what he was doing.

"Qui-Gon Jinn has been Knighted."

Mace hummed noncommittal as he watched his latest opponent leave; a Besalisk with some severe anger management issues. "Was he? I hadn't heard."

"His Ataru is being hailed as some of the best of all time."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"Master Yoda wanted you to be his Padawan."

Mace froze. "...He didn't."

"He did."

"...Why didn't he take me?"

"Because Master Dooku talked him out of it."

"...I see."

"No, I really don't think you do, Mace."

Aveross turned to face him, pain on his face. "My Master did so because he could see in you the same drive to succeed that he had once seen in Qui-Gon; and the last thing he wanted to cause was a division in Yoda's loyalties. Between his Padawan…and Grandpadawan. It wouldn't have been fair; to either of you. And so Master Dooku reached out to the only other practitioner of Makashi he could think of…"

Mace finished the sentence. "Master Saa."

Aveross nodded. "Just a comm, nothing more. But it was enough for your Master to remember the boy she had once tutored, despite his Master's overbearing nature. And it was enough for her to seek to ensure the same thing would not happen to you."

"...Why are you telling me this?"

"Because despite their best efforts, you are preparing to fight Qui-Gon Jinn openly…and in the Fourth Form. If you win, you will validate their meddling. But if you lose…Yoda and Qui-Gon both will become even more insufferable."

A horrible thought wormed its way into Mace's head. "...The Advanced Ataru class. I was never supposed to be there either, was I? That was Yoda interfering on my behalf. He wanted validation for himself that day. That he would've been a good Master for me…and that I would've gotten along with Jinn like he was my older brother."

"Who can say, Padawan?" Aveross crossed his arms. "Who can say? Only the Force. But if you want my advice…challenge literally everyone else you can, and then face Knight Tahl. That will be enough to drive Qui-Gon into making mistakes. May the Force be with you, Mace."

"And with you, Master Aveross."

"I think you can call me Rael, kid.'

"...Very well then. Rael."

Mace listened to Knight…to Rael's advice. He worked his way up slowly; first through the rest of the Senior Padawans, and then on to some of the Knights. Not legends like Plo Koon, naturally. He wasn't suicidal. But Kit Fisto was fun, and came back for more than one rematch. It turned out the younger Nautolan was trying something similar to Mace's strategy, but with Shii-Cho, the First Form, instead. Mace wished him well on his journey.

Of course, that still meant Mace eventually ran out of opponents (aside from the repeats). And then he was facing Tahl once more across the dueling floor; his opening stance an aggressive Soresu upper horizontal guard, hers a vertical defensive Shien.

"Qui-Gon doesn't remember you." she said as they saluted. "But I do. I'm sorry about that day."

"So am I."

"But you understand why I still have to try as hard as I can."

"I do."

"Then may the Force be with us."

It was a short fight. Shien was designed for deflecting blaster bolts; not fighting other Jedi. Tahl resorted to some Ataru of her own in the end, but it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough.

That being said, this time Mace did his best to end the duel with dignity. He only grazed one wrist this time, instead of two. "Solah."

"Solah. He'll be coming for you, you know. He was already mad enough that someone was challenging his role as the champion of Ataru; he won't stand to let me go unavenged."

"It seems to me, Knight Tahl, that you would be quite capable of doing your own avenging, were it not in your nature. I look forward to our next meeting."

"As do I."

And that was that. All Mace had to do now was sit back and wait.

He didn't have to wait long.

Adi rushed into the salles just as Mace was about to start beating the snot out of Agen (or vice versa). "He's coming!"

There was no need to ask who he was.

Mace nodded, and deactivated his blade. "Get everyone who needs to see this."

Adi held up her comm. "Already on their way."

The doors to the salle flew open, and Jedi Knight Qui-Gon Jinn advanced as if the might of the Force itself was on his side. "Padawan Windu."

Well, if Jinn wasn't going to bow, then Mace definitely was. "Knight Jinn."

"I challenge you to a spar."

"But of course, Knight Jinn. However, we are currently expecting our own Masters as well as your former one, so I would be very grateful if we could wait for them to arrive."

Jinn frowned thunderously. "Master Dooku? Why would you be expecting him?"

"Why, didn't you know?" Mace replied simperingly. "We've been having weekly tea with him for over a year now."

If there ever was someone who Mace could truthfully say looked pole-axed, in that particular moment it was Qui-Gon Jinn.

"Of course, sometimes the other Masters host." Adi sidled into the conversation. "It's the polite thing to do, after all. Why just last week Knight Aveross introduced us to a wonderful brew from Naboo."

Jinn looked positively thunderstruck. "...Naboo?"

"Yes, it's quite a little out-of-the-way planet, almost in the Outer Rim," interjected Agen, "but Master Aveross and I were there some time ago and found it most peaceful."

A flash of recognition on Jinn's face, followed by a sneer. "Kolar. Of course you'd be the one behind all this. Well, you'll soon learn just as you did with the Lighting Incident: this was a poor risk to take."

The sharp voice of Yan Dooku rang out through the room. "Was it indeed, Knight Jinn?"

Jinn froze, and then turned to face the veritable horde of Jedi that had just come through the door. "Yes, Master Dooku, I believe it was."

"We shall see, oh former Padawan of mine. We shall see."

Jinn spun and flung an accusation at Agen. "You planned this."

"Nope." replied Agen smugly, and then nodded at Mace. " He did."

The fervor of Jinn's glare transferred accordingly. "Then you had best be prepared to deal with the consequences, Padawan Windu."

"A Jedi is always prepared, Knight Jinn. Now, I believe we owe these people a spar?"

It was, quite possibly, the hardest duel of Mace's life.

Mostly because for the first half, he was allowing himself to get seemingly batted around the arena by Jinn. Much as he hated to admit it, Jinn's offense was impeccable; were it not for the time he'd spent getting hammered by Master Piell, his cause would be hopeless indeed. But his defensive Ataru held.

And more importantly, it confused the hell out of Jinn.

"Come on," the older boy growled, "fight, damn you."

"Does it look like I'm knitting socks?" Mace replied coolly, then batted away a truly blistering assault as he flipped through the air.

"Quit running away!"

"A Jedi seeks always to avoid violence, Knight Jinn. Not live by it." True to his word, Mace deactivated his blade in the middle of a swing in order to dusk under Jinn unhindered, and then immediately lit it again as Jinn changed course midair.

In the end, what Mace was doing would've been obvious only to another student of Soresu: he was using his wrists as pivot points. And it was around them that both his blade and his body spun, perfectly at ease as he dodged, ducked, and deflected away Jinn's glaring green saber. In short, it was Ataru, but built around the basis of the Third Form instead.

And because of that basis, plus his repetitive strengthening of his wrist muscles, that Jinn began to tire far sooner than he did.

Mace saw it coming; saw the Makashi strike telegraphed before it could ever begin. He allowed it to slip through…and then stopped it dead in its tracks. Over the bright hiss of their saber-lock, Mace grinned.

"My turn."

And then it was Soresu; but Soresu built around the flexibility of Ataru. Mace was no longer the rock withstanding the tide. He was the landslide that dammed the river.

Jinn was fighting like his life depended on it. A desperate slash here, a high thrust there. There was more and more Makashi, all useless against Mace's onslaught.

"You're," spat Jinn, "cheating."

"You cheated first." Mace shot back, and kept going. And as he went, all else began to fall away. The room, the plan, the people. All that mattered was him and Jinn. His mental shields began to fall away, and with them went the barrier his own mind had constructed between Ataru and Soresu. Not even Mace could tell you which was which anymore; all he knew was when to strike, and when to parry. When to block, and when to dodge. Here, then there. Purple, then green. Anger, fear, loss, victory. A thousand Points Shattered, then reformed as one, then Shattered again.

On and on and on it went. He was with the Force. And the Force was with him.

A deflection. A flick.

A hit.

Green light vanished from the dance, and Mace stumbled. What was…

What in the nine Sith hells had that been?

His eyes finally registered the scene in front of him: Jinn, disarmed. Jinn, kneeling. Jinn, afraid.

Technically, Mace had won. But at what cost?

A final Shatterpoint emerged, and Mace grabbed it with all his might.

His amethyst blade winked out of existence, and Mace bowed. "Solah, Knight Jinn."

Jinn still sat there, shell-shocked. "But…but you won…why would you solah first?"

"Because it was the only way for this duel to have no winners, Jinn."

Confused eyes stared up into his. "Why would you want that?"

"Because, Master Jedi," Mace turned to look at the wall of Masters surrounding them, "because sometimes the only way to win something is to lose. May the Force be with you, Knight Jinn; I would recommend we not duel again for some time."

Slowly, Jinn swallowed. "I agree."

"Here." It was Tahl, holding out Jinn's lightsaber.

Jinn stared at the blade for some time, then finally took it. "Thanks, Tahl."

Tahl said nothing, merely stood. Leaving Mace to offer his hand to Jinn.

No one said a word as Mace hauled Jinn to his feet, and then bowed one final time. No one said a word as Mace strode from the room, head held high. No one said a word as Master Yoda and Tahl helped a stumbling Jinn away. No one said a word as Rael Aveross and Yan Dooku held each other, tears in their eyes. No one said a word as Even Piell, Sifo-Dyas, and T'ra Saa stood firm, bursting with pride. And no one said a word as Agen Kolar and Adi Gallia high-fived on the way out.

Amazing, how much could be said without a single word.