Disclaimer: It's a cold and it's a broken Mamma Mia…

CHAPTER FOUR: Qui-Gon Gin Rummy

When the axe fell, it fell upon all of them.

Agen and Adi were both prohibited from taking future Advanced Coding classes. Adi and Mace had both had their membership in the Debate Club suspended. And worst of all, both Mace and Agen had been banned from ever teaching a saberplay course of any sort to those below Knight rank.

When the news had come through on their datapads, they had all been gathered around the chess board waiting. Mace had locked eyes first with Adi, and then Agen. "Drop the recording."

Agen nodded, and began to type furiously.

Adi just looked at him, worry in her eyes and the crinkle of her mouth. "Mace, are you sure?"

"Surety is for fools and sycophants. Or so Master Piell says. But in this case, yes. Yes, I am sure. We drop the recording."

Slowly Adi nodded her agreement. "We drop the recording."

Agen held up his datapad. "Done. By this time tomorrow the Temple will be nothing more than one big rumor."

As they moved back to their game, Adi couldn't resist one final remark. "I sure hope you know what you're doing, Mace."

Hope. Sometimes it felt like hope was all he had.

Hope, and the Force.

"Master Ti is furious."

Mace snorted. "Did you think she wouldn't be?"

Master Ti had been his and Adi's mentor on the debate teams. She had watched with barely restrained glee as they tested each other with words and wit in the arena of public opinion, and now she was howling like the akul of her homeworld for losing them to the decrees of the High Council. Especially for going over head and the heads of everyone else on the Council of First Knowledge.

"Well no," Adi countered, "I just didn't think it would be this bad. Someone took a holo of her watching our recording of the duel, and if you asked me before I saw it if she would ever in her life be caught swearing, I'd have said you were crazy."

Agen's ears perked up. "Master Ti swore? What is the world coming to?"

"An end, apparently." Mace said dryly. "What about the rest of the Council of First Knowledge? Any records of their reactions?"

"About what you'd expect." Adi answered off-handedly as she moved her knight-piece with her right. "Master T'un is running around declaring you as the next Revan with us as your Malak and Bastila; Madame Nu just harrumphed and added the recording to the Archives in the Ataru and Soresu sections; Master Drallig wants to spar all of us at once; and Master Sifo-Dyas' reaction you already know."

The Curator of Records. The Head Librarian. The Battlemaster. And the Caretaker of Knowledge. Some of the most powerful voices in the entire Jedi Order. And because they knew it, Yoda and the rest of the High Council had never given them a chance to speak.

Perfect. "Phase Two then?"

Agen let out a snort as he moved a piece of his own. "Wouldn't it technically be like, Phase Four? Or Five?"

"Phase Five." came Adi's languid drawl. "I've been keeping count."

"Fine. Phase Five then. Are we all set?"

Three sets of eyes drifted back and forth between each other.

"...Yes." Agen finally replied. "We're ready."

"Good." Deep breath in; deep breath out. "When's the first slot we can get for an appointment with the Council of First Knowledge?"

Agen held out the datapad. "Scheduled you literally the minute the prohibitions went out. You're set for two days from now, at eighth hour."

He took the pad with a grateful smile. "Thanks Agen. What would I ever do without you?"

"Well for one, you'd lose your knight to the castle of Adi's that I'm taking right…now."

Adi swore. It was very creative. They both gave her full points for originality.

They were an imposing lot, the Council of First Knowledge. Too bad Mace knew far too much about each of them to ever be properly intimidated. Forewarned was forearmed, after all.

Master T'un was the only one Mace had been able to find next to nothing about. Aside from his nebulous title, 'Curator of Records', not much was known about the hotheaded, if a bit old, Master. Well, except for his biggest weakness.

"Aggression!" thundered Master T'un. "Aggression, I say! There is no other word for it! For the unconstituted display, for the sheer mockery of the heart of the Jedi that you have made, Padawan Windu!"

Mace forced himself to respond with a monotone "Is that so, Master T'un?"

"Is that so? Is that so?" T'un drew himself up to his full height. "Is that so, he asks! As if he were not already aware! It was you that provoked this altercation between yourself and Knight Jinn; it was you that belittled and humiliated one of our brightest Knights in a public place; and it was you that then bragged about it to the highest spires of the Temple!"

Once again, all Mace said was, "Is that so?"

"By the Force is that all you can say boy? 'Is that so'? Explain yourself!"

"As you wish, Master."

Calmly, he brought his hands together behind his back and snapped to military attention. "If I might ask a question, Council members: how familiar might you be with a game known as Alderaanian chess?"

A thunderous tempest arose on Master T'un's face at the seeming non sequitur…and was then cut short by a bout of violent sneezing from Master Dyas.

"Is something the matter, Master?" Mace asked evenly.

Master Sifo just wheezed and waved for Mace to continue. So he did. "I shall not bore you with an explanation of the game, Masters, for I'm sure you have more important matters to attend to. Suffice to say all you need know is that in Alderaanian chess, there are three players, and that objectively, the most important pieces on the board are called the Queens. Now, if each player is of equal skill, sooner or later the game will devolve into a stalemate, wherein one misplaced piece will cause a cascade of casualties on all sides, until only one is left standing. It is a long-observed fact that the player who makes the first aggressive move possesses a higher chance of triumph over their competitors. However, there is one specific case wherein the player who refuses to act aggressively at all can still achieve victory. This case is known as the Antares Exchange."

One of Madame Nu's weathered eyebrows slid into a questioning pose. "Not that this is not fascinating, Padawan Windu, but could you perhaps enlighten us as to the current topic's bearing on your case? And why it is that neither your Master nor your friends are here before us with you?"

"Rest assured it will all become clear in a moment, Madame. Now, the Antares Exchange is an extremely difficult maneuver to execute, in that it deliberately calls for the sacrifice of one's most valuable piece: the Queen. What sets this sacrificial move apart from others, and in fact designates it as an Exchange, is the outcome: both of the opposing players will also lose their respective Queens in the next round of play. And since the player who chose the Exchange as their strategy has already covered the holes in their defense that their absent Queen leaves, eventually, their opponents will eventually succumb to their lack of planning and fall."

Here was where they got to the really good part. "In the history of competitive Alderaanian chess, there have only ever been five recorded successful Antares Exchanges. The skill it requires, the timing, the foreplay…even telepathic species have failed to read the situation correctly and lost catastrophically as a result.

"I have been ordered to explain myself. Very well. My explanation is this: I am fully prepared to accept any and every restriction this Council can levy against me. I am prepared to go on record that neither my Master, my fellow Padawans, nor any other individual was responsible for the planning of the other day's incident. All I ask is that the prohibitions against Padawans Kolar and Gallia be lifted. In other words, Masters:"

He allowed his military pose to drop, becoming nothing more than just another student accepting admonishment. "I sacrifice myself."

Predictably, it was Master T'un that stabbed a finger in his direction first. "There; you see? The boy considers himself the most important amongst all others! You have heard it from his own lips!"

The gazes of Madame Nu and Master Drallig sharpened. Master Ti, however, merely pursed her lips and remarked, "It does appear so, Master T'un. Padawan Windu? Have you anything to say?"

Mace let out a breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding. He'd been fairly certain that someone would ask him for clarification once he made his declaration, but he hadn't been completely sure. Things should hopefully be smooth sailing from here. "Yes, Master Ti; I do have something to say."

His eyes rose to meet those of the Council squarely. "And that is this: people are not chess pieces. And because they are not, I can only sacrifice the one person I can utilize as one: myself. I am the most important piece only by default, Master Ti. I am a Jedi. And it is the calling of a Jedi to be willing to sacrifice himself at any time."

Once more he allowed himself to bow slightly in submission. "I cannot reveal my reasoning. I cannot explain my actions. I cannot, in good faith, defend myself. All I can say is that I felt it had to be done. And I am willing to pay the price for the doing."

In the distance, a single bell began to ring. "It seems my time is up, Masters. May the Force be with you."

Master T'un was the only one who did not return the farewell.

Master Saa was waiting for him with a cup of tea. "So. How did it go?"

"Don't know yet. It's with the Force now." he said as he accepted the Alderaanian blend.

Master Saa hummed. "With the Force, and with the Council. Come along, Padawan; we have work to do."

Mace received a comm message from the Council of First Knowledge the next day. He forwarded it's contents immediately to Agen and Adi, and then promptly did his best to ignore it.

His Master, unfortunately, was immensely proud of what the missive had said, and took any and every opportunity she could to share it.

"Senior Padawan?" Master Dooku's normally impassive visage took on an air of surprise. "At your age?"

Mace gave an indifferent shrug. "It's merely been suggested to the Council of Reconciliation. And I have no intention of pleading my case before them. I am perfectly content with having secured a repeal for Agen and Adi's bans."

"Hmm." Master Dooku dipped his bys-koti gently into his tea. "But not for your own?"

"It was a necessary compromise." he said as he copied Master Dooku's movement. "A unanimous decision was required from the Council of First Knowledge to lift their prohibitions. A vote that would never have gone through if Master T'un had not ensured some level of punishment for my actions. I was curious that he apparently saw fit to agree with my recommendation, for which I must go and thank him soon."

Master Saa nodded. "Very soon, I should think. T'un does not like to be kept waiting."

"Understood, Master."

The conversation lapsed into comfortable silence as they enjoyed their traditional Serennian bread and tea.

Eventually, Master Dooku revived it as he reached to refill his drink. "I know that Rael and his Padawan have been called off-world for a mission; however I must confess disappointment that neither Master Piell nor Padawan Gallia could join us today."

Mace grimaced. "That would be because Master Ti has apparently decided to rush Adi through the subject material of next week's debate, and Master Piell was called away to a meeting of the High Council."

Dooku gave a thoughtful hum. "That would do it, yes. Most unfortunate. But perhaps it was the will of the Force."

"Oh?" asked Master Saa."

"Indeed. You see, I took the liberty of inviting a fellow colleague here today, with the strict instruction to arrive a little late. He should be here briefly."

A tendril of apprehension began to curl in Mace's chest. "He?"

RAP. RAP. RAP.

Dooku rose. "Yes, Padawan Windu. He."

The door slid open to reveal…

The imposing form of one Cin Drallig, Battlemaster.

Mace's apprehension turned to ash in his mouth. This tea just got very dangerous. And political.

A new Form.

That was what Master Drallig had proposed; integrating Mace's unorthodox approach to Ataru and Soresu together into one cohesive fighting style.

It would be a massive undertaking, Mace knew. The philosophies behind Form III and Form IV were vastly different to begin with. To add them together would require finding a common thread linking them, and then expounding upon it. Potentially years worth of effort.

Time eaten up that he could've spent on his other interests and studies.

Would it be worth it, though? That was the one question Mace asked himself over and over again. And it was the one question he had found no answer for.

A thwack came on the back of his head. "Quit stewing, Mace-on-a-chain, or else Master Yoda will serve you for dinner. If you're not going to help me with Master Ti's assigned project, then go get meditate until your head's screwed in right."

He groaned. "I tried that. Meditation, I mean. It isn't working. I can let myself go well enough, it's just…"

Adi rubbed his shoulder in understanding. "It's only a temporary solution. Peace means nothing if you don't fight to keep it."

He offered a weak smile. "Maybe don't let Master T'un hear you say that."

"Good point. Speaking of, have you been to see him yet?"

"Went the other day. Still a bit put out, unfortunately; especially when I finally got around to asking him just why he'd gone along with recommending me for Senior Padawan."

"What did he say?"

"He said that students like me either rose victoriously, or crashed dramatically, and that it was better for the Order as a whole to find out sooner rather than later which one I was."

"Not exactly high praise, then."

"Not exactly, no." Letting out a sigh, he leaned back in his chair and let his feet kick up underneath the table. "But for now, I'll take it."

"Hmm…"

"Hmm? What's 'hmm'?"

"It's just…it's probably nothing."

His chair hit the ground with a thunk. "Adi, your instincts are some of the best I've seen. But they're also buried quite often under that machine of a mind of yours. If your brain says it's probably nothing, but your feelings are telling you it's possibly something, then maybe you ought to listen to the latter rather than the former. So…what's 'hmm'?"

Adi's stylus went up and beside her ear. "Do you think Master T'un might be the Master of Shadows?"

Mace's train of thought came to a screeching halt. "...What?"

"Well, I was just thinking…no one really knows what he does, do they?"

"No…" he cautiously agreed.

"And 'Curator of Records' could broadly be interpreted as 'Reviewer of Obtained Intelligence', right?"

"...Right…"

"And who exactly would be in charge of going through all the intelligence-work sent in by Jedi in the field?"

Things became a little bit clearer. "The Master of Shadows."

"Exactly!" Adi chirped.

"Exactly. Well, the theory has promise; but I think we're overlooking one thing."

"What's that?"

"Wouldn't the Master of Shadows actually be ranked a bit higher in the Order than just the Council of First Knowledge? I mean, they have to be on the Council of Reconciliation, at least."

"Why?"

That stopped him. "...Why?"

"Yes, why?"

"..Well it's just…"

"Yes?"

Little bits and pieces began to click into place. "Wait. Master Tholme was on the Council or Reconciliation before he left, wasn't he?"

Adi nodded. "He was."

"And your Master took his place, right?"

"Right again. Still don't know how he found the time for it, since he's already on the High Council."

"That's just it; he couldn't have. Unless he's viewing it as an assignment."

"An assignment?"

"From the real Master of Shadows. To report on the Council of Reconciliation's deliberations. And the only reason Master Piell would have to do that…"

Adi finished the sentence for him. "Was if the Master of Shadows wasn't already privy to it. And since the High Council already knows everything the other Councils do, that leaves only one other Council to look for the Shadow-master on: First Knowledge."

Mace gave Adi the side eye. "Shadow-master?"

"Hey, you can keep wasting an entire syllable saying 'Master of Shadows' if you want to, but I'm shortening it. I mean, we already have a Battlemaster and a Training-master."

"...Fair enough. But to get back on track," he pulled out a piece of slimsi and began to scribble furiously, "If Master T'un really is the Shadow-master, wouldn't it make sense for him to actually, you know, talk to other Shadows? Have you ever actually seen Master Piell and Master T'un interact?"

Adi frowned. "Once, I think. They got into an argument over something to do with an ancient clan of Jedi Healers. Hardly Shadow material. But would they ever need to actually talk face-to-face? I mean, comms exist."

"Yeah, and so does Agen." he countered dryly. "There's a reason some data is classified 'Ears-Only'. Slicers are real, and they are very dangerous."

"Don't forget, 'Eyes-Only' is a classification as well. Flimsi reports can be burnt, but they still have to be physically passed along. And I'm already well aware of how full of junk Master Piell's actual inbox is. The odds of reports vanishing into that morass are about as high as those for the next Chancellor's election being rigged."

"Adi, every Chancellor's election is rigged."

"Exactly."

Sighing, he pulled himself away from his writing. "Well, we've got some good points for, and some good points against. Let's sit on this for now; we've got more important things to get done."

"Like Master Ti's project."

Internally he groaned. "Yes; like Master Ti's project."

"T'ra."

"Yes, Yan?"

"Do you, perchance, happen to know what your Padawan's presentation to the Council of First Knowledge consisted of?"

She smirked. "And if I did?"

"Then I would say that you are both equally incorrigible, and that I have no doubt Master Ti's latest assigned debate on the Ethicality of Manipulation can be laid squarely at your door."

"Why thank you for the compliment, Yan. I'm sure it will be an interesting listen when it's finally presented."

"Interesting for you, heart-attack inducing for everyone else. Especially if anyone makes the mistake of bringing up 'Alderaanian chess'."

She gently swatted him. "Oh let them have their fun, Yan; there was a time I recall where you snuck in quite a few metaphors of your own into that debate on…"

"DON'T. Remind me. Jocasta already does so every other week."

"Only every other? She's slipping. I'll have to pay her a visit to stoke her memory."

"T'ra."

"You should do it."

Mace looked nervously at Agen. "Really?"

Agen nodded. "Really."

"I mean, but it'll…"

"Cut into chess time? Sure, but we're growing up, Mace. Every day brings new responsibilities. And with that comes a loss of opportunities. Take the ones that are more important and run with them. Say yes to Master Drallig."

"...Alright then."

"Good. Now, Mister Senior Padawan, I believe we are overdue for an appointment with your lady fair, don't you?"

In the corner of the salle, a young Initiate eeped and scurried out of the room. Agen laughed as they went. "Kids; am I right?"

"Yeah…" Mace replied, a thought tickling the back of his brain "Kids."

More important opportunities indeed. And more importantly, ones that a certain Qui-Gon Jinn detested.

He was sorry to do it, but he ended up having to drop his saber sessions with Master Piell and most of his Alderranian chess time to make time for his two new hobbies. Yes, two.

Hammering out a new lightsaber Form with Master Drallig…and working in the creche.

Master Saa had been flabbergasted when he'd asked if he could volunteer to help. "Mace…you can't stand younglings."

"I cannot." He'd replied in affirmation. "But they are the future of the Jedi, and should be treated as such. The greatest teacher, a student is."

"Of all the times to quote the old troll…" Master Sas had grumbled. "Very well. I will not say I'm not proud of you for choosing to help in the creche, Force knows the masters could use the help; but I will say, for future reference, 'I told you so.'"

He'd bowed. "As is your prerogative, Master Saa. Thank you."

Qui-Gon Jinn detested younglings. Detested them with an intense, squeamy disgust. If it were anyone else, Mace would have agreed with them. Younglings were loud, unorganized, vicious, and liable to break down crying at the smallest inconvenience.

Mace Windu had no love for younglings.

But he hated Qui-Gon Jinn more.

And Mace would do everything in his power to avoid becoming like him. Even if that meant (he shuddered)...

Finger-painting.