Afterglow II | The Clone Wars

29 | Seams of Doubt

The Jedi High Council chamber was dotted with discussion, with stillness mixed into the crevices of the sacred space, save for the soft stream of Coruscant's traffic beyond the periphery of the Jedi masters. Mace Windu sat in his usual place, his posture unwavering, his gaze stern. And yet, his deep brown eyes lingered on the vacant chair.

Her chair. That once belonged to Depa Billaba, a galaxy renowned Jedi in her own right. Before Dakota, she had been his Padawan. Depa had been by the book, cooperative and moldable; things that Dakota Ky was not.

Despite his better judgment, he couldn't help but admire that about the emerald eyed Jedi. He had spent years shaping the girl he'd picked up from Kalevala, striving to mold her into the ideal Jedi. Yet, in the end, he found he preferred who she had become over who he had envisioned all those years ago.

It was nearing the middle of their council meeting. The vacant seat wasn't getting any fuller. She should have been there by then. At times, most of the time, she was late. But never to this degree.

He knew, of course, that her mission to Sorgan had likely halted her ability to attend. All other masters were present, either in person or holographically. The meeting progressed as usual despite this—reports, disputes, deliberations—but Mace spoke only when necessary. Even then, his words were precise, clipped.

He pondered with his cheek between his teeth, his hands resting on the arms of his chair, his expression impassive as the conversation unfolded. Obi-Wan spoke to Shaak Ti who attended by hologram from Kamino, moving onto Plo Koon and Kit Fisto. Yet, as another matter within the galaxy was raised—a border dispute on Malastare—Mace hesitated.

A question on his opinion was asked given his experience on the planet. However for a fraction of a second, he wasn't present. Barely noticeable to most.

But not to Master Yoda.

Seated in his place, the Grand Master's ears twitched, his sharp, green gaze flicking toward Windu. The hesitation was brief, but it was there, lingering in the way Mace's response came a heartbeat too late, in the way his attention had drifted toward the unoccupied seat in the chamber.

"Master Windu," Ki-Adi-Mundi prompted, drawing the attention of others in the room.

Mace straightened slightly, bouncing back to full attention. He spoke mechanically, measured, as his tone had always been, "The Republic's involvement on Malastare should remain measured, as it has always been." others nodded in agreement. "We cannot afford to escalate conflicts unnecessarily with the Dugs, not with our trade agreements solidified."

A sound response. But Yoda, still watching him, made a quiet noise of acknowledgment.

"Hm."

The conversation moved on, but Yoda's gaze remained on Windu for a moment longer.

Distraction was unlike him.

Immense patience, Mace had. Discipline, certainty. And yet, in this moment, his mind was elsewhere. Or rather, on someone else. Yoda did not dwell on it, at least not yet. But as the meeting drew to a close, his ears twitched once more. Mace Windu was troubled. And trouble, Yoda knew, had a way of growing if left unchecked.

Across the chamber, Ki-Adi-Mundi was watching too. He had noticed the way Mace's focus had drifted away like dust in the wind. He had noticed the silence, too—the way Windu, who was never one to let sentiment interfere, had spoken less than usual.