Wraith Headquarters' Lounge, 1148
Mace Windu stared at Anakin Skywalker, the impetuous, nerve-wracking, definitely arrogant, over-exerting Force user that just happened to be the Chosen One. The Jedi of old had said that for each power the padawan possessed, there were the same number of faults left to be found. The degree of the power would magnify the degree of the fault. It was just the Order's luck that the power and faults had to go along with a former-Tatooine slave's stubborn and willful attitude.
Sighing inaudibly, he finally offered a replying remark. "You're right, Skywalker, I don't have that much power. But I do have enough power to stick you with Temple duty or even tell you that your TIE fighter or Sekot ship needs to be dismembered."
That reply brought instant daggers from Anakin's eyes. Perhaps it was because of something the other Master was doing, perhaps not, but it almost felt as if ice had washed over him, ice that burned like fire, then stabbed like knives. All from looking in Anakin Skywalker's eyes after you've gotten on his nerves. Suddenly the expression 'staring daggers' took on a whole new meaning for him.
"But then you'd have one very pissed off mechanic on your hands," Liselle said from behind him.
Glancing over at her, he raised an eyebrow as he replied. "I figured as much-"
It was odd. While he knew exactly what was being done, exactly what he wanted to say, everything, he couldn't perform the action of speaking the idea. It was a technique he'd done many times, that of clamping a strong enough Force-presence over a weaker one. And the only person present who could supply such power would be Anakin Skywalker. Frelling Jedi Masters who enjoy pranks.
"Meaning Alana Ynrer," Meli said, filling the space his sentence would've. "And she's not exactly known for her being quiet when she's annoyed about ships."
In front of him, Mace saw, Anakin was nodding his agreement with the Afyon girl. "Yes, Alana Ynrer. And you'll also have a very, very dark Jedi standing in front of you with a lightsaber drawn. Of course," Anakin smiled the trademark smile he had found a home in the galaxy for, "you'll also be giving Jori another tool for her quest of power, so I wouldn't it I were you. If you'd like to settle this quickly, however, I'm sure we can suffice with a 'friendly' sparring match."
The presence clamping over his mind eased off slightly as Meli and Liselle spoke together. "That too." Both seemed to be hiding amusement from their voices. Amusement Mace knew was there. Still not saying anything, though he now could, Mace locked glares with Anakin, holding his gaze for a few minutes.
"Very well then, Skywalker, how about this: keep your nose where it belongs and there won't be a need for us to give you another run in with the Dark Side," he said at last, feeling the agitation he'd long-housed at the other Master steam up.
Still sitting rather uncaringly on the couch, an eyebrow on Anakin Skywalker's young-looking face shot up. "How about this: My job, other than staying alive to balance the Force, is to annoy Master Yoda and all the other Jedi Council members, unless there be special circumstances. It's been that way since I was a child, as I'm sure you remember."
Cringing inwardly at the very distinct memories of dealing with a padawan Anakin, he nodded after a moment. Mace had actually been surprised when Master Yoda had told him that he and Luke had brought that particular Jedi Master back to life. While they hadn't had any reason not to, considering Luke and Leia had both wanted to meet their father, they had also needed the extra help with Lady Daragon of the Sith.
A impression from the Force enlightened him to the fact that Mirax was done talking to her uncle. Kieran Halcyon was a miracle when it came to dealing with her. He knew just which buttons to push with the girl to make her listen, something Mace himself still hadn't quite gotten down.
Abruptly, Anakin looked to the closed door, no doubt using the Force to open it. His voice calm and collected, he spoke to the figure- Mirax- outside of it. "Come on in, Mirax. We can make this a 'family' affair."
Having had just about enough of dealing with Anakin Skywalker for one day, Mace turned to see his former padawan coming in, a very snobbish grin on her face. It was almost like an unsaid 'so, ha!'. Something she most certainly would never get away with again. Mirax crossed the room and went to stand near the wall behind Skywalker's chosen spot of slumping, no doubt to have a barrier in between them.
He could easily tell his face was darkening, though that wasn't to mean it darkened much. Turning his gaze back to the lounging Jedi Master, Mace glared, shouting, with Force enhancement, "Anakin Skywalker!" Had Anakin done anything but what he then, Mace might've let it drop. But as it was, 'Master' Anakin raised an eyebrow, wearing an expression that signified his doubting he needed to listen to this 'complaint', as he stood. "That's it. One more smart remark, prank, attempt of sabotage, anything, you get to go train with Yoda on Dagobah. And your padawan can go elsewhere."
Though he wasn't aiming for it, Mace had the dim satisfaction of watching Anakin cringe very slightly.
"I think 'no' and 'no'," he said at last. "I'll keep my padawan and I'll stay away from Master Yoda. Other than that, how about you get on with 'reprimanding' the others so I can contradict you some more."
* * * * *
Behind him, Anakin heard the sounds of Mirax sighing softly. No doubt she was wishing she didn't have to ever deal with a Mace Windu yelling spree ever again. He wouldn't mind either, though without them life was rather boring. He quickly glanced over his shoulder, grinning at her.
"Come now, Halcyon, surely you'd like a chance to yell at this old bat as well?"
Mirax gave another sigh, this time less pronounced. "Sure I'd like to, but the next time I pull a prank, I'll get a double yelling.
Anakin thought about that for a moment, reviewing it silently. True, it seemed that he was the only one who had the nerve to yell back at Master Mace Windu and actually could perform the deed well. And he couldn't be depended upon to make Master Windu lose his voice, either. "Yes, that's true," he said finally, "But that doesn't mean that some of us can't just shut his mouth for you so you can yell, then make him conveniently forget the entire affair."
"But making him forget takes away half the fun!" Mirax replied, the joke evident.
As he had been standing next to the couch with his attention reverted from the main subject- Mace Windu- Anakin was a bit taken aback at being tossed back into a wall. After a second, he took a step away from the wall, shaking out his head and hair from any dust that might've fallen from the ceiling on impact. As soon as he determined there was no such dust left in his hair, he looked up at Mace and returned the 'favor'. Eyes locked on those of the Jedi Master, he replied to Mirax's comment.
"Then we can always make him unable to comment on it."
"That could work too," Mirax agreed, her voice full of unquestioned mirth, "But I prefer to work with explosions and pranks rather than words."
Nodding, his gaze still locked on Master Windu's, Anakin grinned slightly. "Point well taken, Halcyon." His hand absently fiddling with his lightsaber for a moment, he at last looks over to the Jedi Knight before again speaking to Windu. "However, after Master Windu yells at this group, I'll be waiting for him in the gym to spar." As he said it, Anakin saw Mace roll his eyes, shaking his head ever so slightly while he rubbed a shoulder.
At last, Mace seemed to come up with his words for Cloud, Mara and their padawans, since Anakin himself was waiting to hear them. "Alright you four. Let's start with what we've got: Ritril, would you be so kind as to enlighten me to why you said it was your job and, in doing so, also admitted that you weren't doing your job?"
Anakin sat down again, glancing over his shoulder as he heard Mirax find a chair as well, Jacinta scurrying to the arm of the nearest couch. Even without the Force, Anakin could see Mirax barely containing the desire to mouth Windu's words behind his back.