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myakkoh · 5 years ago

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wonders in a hunt

(Read on Ao3 here!)

Thank you and shout out to @blackkatmagic for letting me have permission to write this silly fic!

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You see, there’s a novel.

A novel that was only published two months ago, detailing the events of a Jedi and a clone falling in love while undergoing an adventure that changed their lives in order to save the entire galaxy. It tells of a tale that many have fallen in love with and are eager for more.

Unfortunately, this novel is also Mace Windu’s greatest headache at the current moment.

Why?

Well, let’s just say, there are details in the novel that are extremely similar to the same events he had undergone with his husband a year ago, especially with the part where they faced Palpatine, the Sith Lord who has been right under their nose the entire time. It’s not just the book that’s Mace’s problem, though.

It’s who made the novel. No one knows who made the novel, just that it's an anonymous author.

When Mace first got introduced to the novel, it was about a few days ago, when he decided to take a break with Fives. Said Padawan took out his datapad and began to silently read something on it, dark eyes glued to the screen, scanning it slowly, ever so slowly. Chuckles and giggles have escaped him, before Mace became curious and asked what it was.

That was his first mistake, and how it all began.

~~~~~

“A novel,” Mace repeats as Fives gives him a bright grin, tilting his head to the side as he reads the title. Heartstill, the title says on the cover, followed behind by a picture of two hands clasping together. He can see silver bands shining around fingers on both hands, the design strangely familiar.

“Yeah,” Fives says, the grin still in place, the Force rippling around his Padawan softly. “It’s surprisingly really good, and the main characters kinda reminds me of you and Cody.”

Mace raises an eyebrow, though he’s more bemused than anything. It’s nice to see that Fives is having something else to do other than their training and meditation. “Is that so?” he asks, hands the datapad back to his Padawan.

“Yes, Master,” Fives answers cheekily, then says, “You can read it if you want.”

“Oh?” Perhaps he should ask Cody if he read this novel yet; his husband did like reading.

Fives only laughs. “Better than having Cody steal all the blankets, Master!”

“I thought you can’t hear through the walls?” Mace asks with slight amusement as Fives immediately looks horrified at the implied meaning. It’s always fun to tease his Padawan, even if all he and Cody do is stay close to each other in bed these days, curling into each other’s warmth.

Small gestures mean more than the large ones, after all.

“Oh my kriffing god, Master, I did not need to know that!”

~~~~~~

He did not have the chance to read the novel until a couple of days later, when he managed to secure some peace for himself. Cody’s currently on a guard shift at the Jedi Temple’s entrance, and Fives is off exploring Coruscant with some of the other Padawans, clones, and a Jedi Knight.

When Mace settles down on the couch, he reaches for the datapad Fives lent him, flipping to the novel and relaxes as he flips to the first page, beginning to read what many have been calling a masterpiece.

A couple of hours later has him stuck in the middle of said novel, because Mace is staring at the same page for the past few minutes. Multiple reactions are running through his head to what he’s read so far. Throwing the datapad to the wall or ripping it up with the Force may have been a very near thing.

Mace hasn’t mentioned the leviathan to anyone but the council and the ones who’ve been there with him, which was only Cody. Granted, the name in the novel is completely different, but the vivid details, the careful explanations of their abilities- it’s similar to a leviathan. Knows the effects of being too close to one, what it does-

Grimaces at the crystal-clear memory of it, doesn’t shudder, but it’s a close thing, enough to make him put down the datapad and stop reading for a few moments. He closes his eyes and breathes, curls his hand into a fist before he lets go.

Several events he’s read so far in the novel are similar to what he and Cody had experienced in Dromund Kaas, far too similar for his liking. It’s... slightly disturbing, to read the same events that personally happened to him. Someone on the council may have written this novel.

He only reopens his eyes when he hears the doors to his quarters slide open, Cody’s aura flickering tiredly and fondly.

“You look like you went through Dromund Kaas again,” Cody observes with a tilt of his head, and Mace sends a small wave of wry amusement to his husband’s end of their bond. The clone commander only snorts, setting his bucket down and strips his armour before joining him on the couch.

Their fingers tangle together before they rest their hands on their legs, Cody leaning his head on Mace’s shoulder, and he can’t help but smile softly.

“The horror,” is all Mace says in response, dry. “But, no. Have you read Heartstill?”

Cody furrows his brows, twists his head to look at him carefully. “You mean that novel everyone seems to be raving about these days? I haven’t read it, if that’s what you’re asking, but I heard it was good. Why?”

Mace wordlessly motions to the datapad on the table in front of them. A few beats of silence, then- “That’s Fives’ datapad.”

“I’m quite aware.”

“Why do you have Fives’ datapad?”

“He lent it to me.”

“He lent it to you.” Cody’s voice sounds flat, though a note of resignation makes its way through their bond. “Is this because of the novel?”

“If you’ll read it, you’ll understand,” Mace informs him. “I feel like someone in the council wrote this.”

“Yeah, yeah. When I get the time to, then I will.”

~~~~~~

It takes a few more days before he manages to finally finish the novel.

Needless to say, Mace is more convinced that someone on the council has written this novel, considering they’re the only ones who have even read the mission report. It’s close, though. Very close. Too close for his comfort, really.

But who?

Thus, this begins the investigation of who has written the novel Heartstill. Needless to say, it produces a lot more headaches than expected.

~~~~~~

Obi-Wan doesn’t know what prompted Mace into thinking he wrote a novel. The sheer indignation rattles inside him as he stares at the Jedi Master in his doorway. “A... novel, you say?” he asks weakly, praying that his question will make the man go away.

One doesn’t appreciate it when someone interrupts their time to sed- take their husband to bed. Said husband is currently sitting at the kitchen table and looking over paperwork after their last mission together. Obi-Wan would like to have some privacy with Rex, thank you very much.

Mace only raises his eyebrow. “Yes, the novel Heartstill,” he says.

He blinks in surprise. “The one that’s currently raging around the galaxy? Rex told me it was a fascinating read. Why?”

When Mace doesn’t answer, Obi-Wan closes his eyes, lets go of his annoyance, and says, “Mace, please don’t tell me that you believe that I wrote that novel.”

“... perhaps.”

“I should be offended, you know I would never write a novel.”

“Indeed,” Mace notes dryly. “However, your mission reports say otherwise. It is fascinating to read about the adventures you and Skywalker have, especially when chasing after Grievous and getting stuck in a cave, and I quote, ‘After a few moments of shock, we were horrified to learn that Anakin have managed to release poisoned gas into the air, with mere moments left to live.’ Yes, Obi-Wan, rather dramatic.”

“I,” Obi-Wan says lightly like the negotiator he is, “have not written that in my life. Perhaps you should ask Anakin if he wrote that part in that particular mission report.”

“Perhaps I will,” Mace says, like he doesn’t believe him. How dare he. “Good day, Master Kenobi.”

“And you as well, Master Windu.”

When the doors close behind him, Rex looks up from the table, amusement lighting up in those perfect brown eyes. “Did you really write that in your mission report?”

“Rex, we are not going to talk about that.”

~~~~~~

“What.” Agen is more confused than angry that Mace would accuse him of writing a novel. He only tilts his head to the side, Mace giving him a flat look. “A novel?”

“Heartstill,” Mace answers, and- oh. That’s the novel that Dogma and Tup have been reading together during their free time, and honestly Agen doesn’t have enough patience to sit still for one novel, even if it does sound intriguing. “I take it you have never read it before?”

“Yes,” Agen says slowly, trying to make sense of what Mace is trying to say. Dogma’s aura flashes curiosity before fading away, and he focuses on the Councillor in front of him. Usually Mace would never bring something like this up unless it’s important. If it is, then he might not be able to help. He has no idea what Heartstill is even about. “Why?”

Mace slowly blinks at him. Ah. He immediately gets the message.

Agen doesn’t even know a single thing about writing a novel, and writing mission reports and normal reports are completely different. He can only look back at Mace and think that whoever wrote the novel that made Mace Windu chasing after the Jedi Councillors is quite a sentient.

“Master Windu, I heard that Master Ti is in the gardens with Tup and Colt,” Dogma says helpfully, takes Mace’s attention off of him. Mace nods a thanks to his commander and the doors slide shut.

After one long second, Agen turns around to face Dogma, and tilts his head to the side again. “What is Heartstill about?” he finally asks.

“A Jedi and a clone falling in love, sir. Why?”

And this is why he’s more partial to taking missions in the Outer Rim; Agen wouldn’t have to deal with anything like this. “How many weapons do we have left?” he asks instead, walks towards the couch and grabs one of Dogma’s blasters to clean.

“Sir,” Dogma says very slowly, carefully, like he’s about to step into a danger zone filled with landmines and slavers and droids. Agen rather likes that combination; the odds are good, especially between him and Dogma. “Please don’t tell me you’re planning to destroy another slaver base that belongs to Aruk the Hutt again.”

Agen deliberately chooses not to answer that.

~~~~~~

Shaak is smiling very dangerously, and Colt would like it to be known that his wife’s smile is beautiful and kriffing hot and it also means he should stay a few steps back because of what will happen next.

“Mace, old friend,” Shaak says with perfectly practiced innocence, something sharp dancing in her eyes. Colt swallows, and he really wants to grab her and steal her away to somewhere... more private. “Whatever do you mean by that accusation? I would never write a novel in my life.”

Mace stares her down, strong and unflinching. “Oh?”

“Indeed.” Shaak tilts her head to the side, a smile of an innocent predator, while Tup is watching the exchange with wide and fascinated eyes. Colt is also tempted to drag his brother further away so they don’t get caught in the soon-to-be-ensuing battle. “Have you tried, say... Kit? He really is good at writing those mission reports, wouldn’t you agree?”

The other Jedi Master looks rather exasperated and close to breaking something, even if his impassive expression doesn’t show anything. “Perhaps,” Mace says calmly. “You have a tendency to describe battles... interestingly.”

“Is that so?” This time, Shaak rises to her feet, and dips her head towards him. “Well, then you know that I’m not the culprit, my old friend.”

“Yes, I’m quite sure.” With that, the Jedi Master spins around and stalks away, and Colt can’t help but glance towards his wife. A look of triumph passes through her face, before settling into her usual, soft smile.

“Master, what did he mean by that?” Tup asks curiously.

“Oh, Tup. I just write... differently in my mission reports is all.” That smile should be illegal, and shouldn’t be making his heart squeeze tightly.

But by this point, Colt is a desperate man and he really wants to kiss Shaak senseless and make sure she knows that he loves her. From the sweet smile she sends him, Shaak knows it, too.

~~~~~~

“I did not write a novel.”

“Kit-”

“I did not write a novel,” Kit repeats again for the twelfth time as Mace stares at him. “I swear on the Force, I did not.”

The Force only ripples in response, as if offended Kit would choose it as a sacrifice to try and convince Mace. Disgruntled, Mace lets it go and sighs. After all, Kit has been repeating the same words over and over again ever since he found the Nautolan near the entrance to the Jedi Temple, delicately holding a bag.

His mission reports are similar to the novel’s writing, but also entirely different, and-

Wait.

“Kit, are those thermal detonators?” Mace asks with slight disbelief.

The Nautolan freezes before offering a hesitant smile. The grip on the bag tightens but doesn’t drop. “Yes.”

He suppresses the headache he can feel coming. Usually the Nautolan wouldn’t even touch a thermal detonator unless there’s a reason to. “Master Fisto,” he says, cautiously approaching the subject because obviously they’re going to be an occurrence, especially from the look on Kit’s face. “Who are they for?”

“Allow me to say that-”

“Kit.”

“-I heard that Master Kolar needed some more,” Kit continues breezily, and- oh. Oh no. Mace briefly considers taking Cody on another honeymoon to avoid dealing with this. He didn’t think this could happen, but... it really is happening, and he knows how Agen is.

Agen is oblivious to all courting attempts, and he��s not losing the bet to Depa that it’d take a few months for Agen to realize there is a courting attempt.

“I see,” he says steadily, then gives him a respectful nod. “Good luck for you and Agen. You will need it.”

Kit stares at him like he’s grown an extra head. “What- what do you possibly mean by that, Mace? Mace!”

Mace is already turning away. He needs to continue on with his... errands, not watch two of his fellow Councillors dance around each other.

“Mace! Come back here! What do you mean by that!”

He only walks faster.

~~~~~~

Adi raises her eyebrow. “Are you alright, Mace?” she asks in concern, because her fellow Jedi Master and Councillor looks ready to crush something close to him. She’s the only one in range of that, and she would like to have no broken bones, thank you.

Mace blankly stares at her. “You’re not the one who wrote Heartstill.”

“I did not write Heartstill,” Adi says, confused, and that’s new. Mace wouldn’t bring up a popular novel into the conversation. “But it’s a very good novel, I will have to admit that. Though the events are similar to the reports we received from you and Cody.”

From the unimpressed look he’s giving her, it seems that she’s right in guessing this is what it’s about.

“Well, Yoda wouldn’t be the one who wrote it, considering his grammar,” she says, and Mace closes his eyes as if he’s in pain from remembering said grammar. To be fair, all of Yoda’s reports are all filled with different grammar and sometimes, she has to enlist Eeth or Depa’s help in translating some of them. “Depa would have written something a little more exaggerated than the actual events.”

“That is true.” Pride and amusement flickers across Mace’s face before steeling itself back into his usual expression. “I suppose you might know where Master Mundi is?”

“Ki? He should be in his quarters.”

“Thank you, Adi.”

Adi finds herself more bemused than anything.

~~~~~~

Ki blankly stares at Mace, before he shakes his head in confusion. “What novel?”

Mace only rubs a hand over the side of his face.

(In all honesty, Ki is slightly terrified by the one-second murderous look in Mace’s eyes before it fades away and the Jedi Master stalks off with a quick farewell. Hopefully whoever wrote this novel that clearly annoyed Mace will live. Hopefully.)

~~~~~~

Eeth is very close to slamming the door right in Mace’s face and heading back to sleep. Look, when someone gets back from a mission that somehow led from peaceful negotiation to a full-blown civil war because of a single insult, they would be exhausted, too.

But Eeth is also a very dignified Zabrak (unlike Agen, who has a penchant to go straight into the violence and then offers sentients the solution of surrendering after knocking them around). So he obliges Mace and allows the other Jedi Master to enter his quarters, before taking a deep breath and surrendering his anger to the Force.

“May I help you, Master Windu?” he asks tiredly.

“How was your mission, Master Koth?”

“Fine,” Eeth answers flatly and resolves to setting the system settings to the off switch after this so he can get some sleep. “You already received my report, Mace. What else do you need, if it’s clearly not about my mission?”

Perhaps that’s a little too blunt, but Eeth has been running on three hours of sleep for the past two days and he really wants to sleep. Badly. One month of dealing with negotiations, a civil war, and then back to negotiations. He considers asking for one month of leave after dealing with that nonsense.

“Have you heard of Heartstill?”

Yes, yes, Eeth has heard about it. In fact, several of the clone troopers who have been with him on his mission had told him about the novel, detailing the romance of a Jedi General and a Clone Commander. Privately, he thinks it could deal with more outside forces that stops the romance from prevailing, but it sounds rather promising the way it is.

“I have,” Eeth says neutrally, tilts his head to the side. “Why?”

“I have my suspicions that someone in the council has written it, and I intend to find out who it is.” Mace looks at him with narrowed eyes, and he has to suppress a sigh. Of course Mace would think he would be writing it.

“I see,” is all he manages to say. “I had nothing to do with it.”

“Of course.” Mace pauses, then, because Mace is a bastard, he adds, “Agen is being courted.”

His mind immediately stops at that, because what the kriff. Agen? Being courted? The most oblivious of them in the Jedi High Council is being courted? Eeth closes his eyes, slightly concerned for the one who’s apparently trying to court his friend. Whoever has the sheer boldness to do that deserves luck. “And who is trying?”

“Kit.”

Never mind, Kit doesn’t need the luck. Agen is the one who needs the luck, seeing how Kit can flirt to no end, almost on par with Obi-Wan. “I’ll take the next two missions for someone on the bet if Kit manages to get Agen’s attention within the next two months via flirting.”

Mace is not outwardly laughing at him, but he is laughing and Eeth doesn’t appreciate it. “Alright.”

Eeth may or may not consider kicking Mace out of his room right there and then.

~~~~~~

Mace is very close to finding the culprit of the novel Heartstill.

There’s only one member left of the council that he’s yet to ask; Plo Koon. The said Jedi Master has been seemingly smiling every time Mace passed him, and that’s enough to cause suspicions. Enough to know that his friend is tricky enough to slip past his questions and straight past his defences.

Knows exactly how Plo will act, especially when they’ve known each other in the creche, and it’s slightly amusing to know that Plo might do something drastic. Like taking in two Zabraks from the Nightsisters, and training them when the Kel Dor has the time.

Feral looks up from his datapad to nod politely to Mace when he enters Plo’s quarters with the code his friend gave him a long time ago. Wolffe cleans his blasters while Savage naps close to him. “Master Windu,” Feral greets quietly, inclines his head. “Master Plo should be in the Archives.”

“Tell that jetii of mine to eat, sir,” Wolffe tells Mace. “He told me to babysit these two.”

Feral doesn’t blink an eye, obviously used to Wolffe’s words. “You know that we won’t damage Master Plo’s quarters.”

“Last time you said that, you and Savage managed to nearly destroy the kitchen when I was looking for my jetii,” Wolffe informs the small Zabrak dryly, Savage already opening an eye to stare at them. “So don’t bother. Sir, just make sure he ate and didn’t break his neck down there.”

“Of course,” Mace says, bemused. “May the Force be with you.”

Feral only gives him a soft smile as he leaves Plo’s quarters.

~~~~~~

He’s met with the sight of Agen, his hair untied, tiny black dots catching the light when the Zabrak inclines his head.

“Master Fisto,” Agen greets, silky black hair falling over his shoulders. Dark eyes skim the bags, and he can see Agen’s commander quickly scurrying away. Ah well, at least he can finish this up quickly and then take Agen for a run to the gardens after getting caf for both of them.

“Master Kolar,” Kit says cheerfully as he holds up the two bags in his hands. He knows how much Agen appreciates the gestures of resupplying him with weapons that the Zabrak needs. “These are the flash-bang grenades.”

Surprise flickers across Agen’s face, before his eyes soften, even if his expression doesn’t change. “You remembered.”

“So I did,” Kit easily says, politely waits for Agen to allow him to step inside the Zabrak’s quarters. Amusement curls at the edge of Agen’s tiny smirk, and all he wants to do is smile back and wait forever.

(Depa is a dignified Jedi Master; so if anyone says that they saw her take a holo of Master Fisto and Master Kolar standing together, they are a liar. She did no such thing.)

~~~~~~

Unsurprisingly, Plo is in the Archives. Again.

“Ah, hello, Mace,” the Kel Dor greets with a smile in his voice as Mace approaches him. Plo is already taking out a datapad with a soft hum, a talon clicking against it with an echo. “Did you know how interesting Zabrak poetry can be when being expressed out loud?”

“Pardon?” Mace asks in bewilderment, a beat little too late.

Why is Plo asking him about Zabrak poetry? Granted, this could have been discussed with the other Zabraks in the Jedi Order, given that Mace has little knowledge of it. Though... if he can just steer the conversation to the novel, then he’ll know whether or not Plo is the one who wrote it, and then make sure no one else is writing a novel based on actual events too close for his comfort.

“They have such wonderful sounds when conveying it. Such as this one here...”

This, Mace thinks with an oncoming headache as Plo continues to ramble about the poetry, is going to be exhausting.

~~~~~~

“Plo-”

“Oh, Mace, I’m not finished with explaining the messages inside the poems yet!”

“Did you write Heartstill?”

Plo emits amusement into the Force. “That’s not the topic right now, is it, Mace? Now, as I was saying, there are some hidden messages within each line for each sound they make...”

Cody is going to become a widower if Mace doesn’t survive this.

~~~~~~

Cody finally finds his husband in the Archives after a couple of hours, impassively staring at Plo Koon with an exasperated look, though no one can tell unless they know him or look very closely.

“Master Koon,” he says formally, dips his head in greeting when Plo waves a four-fingered hand to him. Mace’s slight relief rises in their bond, before fading away to exasperation and fondness for the Kel Dor. “Mace, there you are.”

“Cody,” Mace says as he rises to his feet from the chair, gives Plo a look, before the Korun offers his hand to him. “Something urgent?”

Cody only rolls his eyes and grabs his husband’s hand to lead him out of the Archives, away from delicate datapads and apparently Mace’s current headache. “Not really,” Cody answers after a fair distance away from the Archives. “But you haven’t answered my calls for the past six hours, and that was before you told me you were going to find Master Koon.”

Mace stops, slightly turns his head towards him. “Six hours,” his husband repeats.

“Yes, Mace. Six hours. I didn’t realize you liked debating with Master Koon for that long.”

“Yes,” Mace agrees, dry. Displeasure flashes in their bond, before Mace carefully tucks it away and lets it go. “I very much enjoy debating with Master Koon about Zabrak poetry.”

Cody pauses, turns to stare at his husband. “... why were you discussing Zabrak poetry?”

“That is a mystery I would like to know myself.”

~~~~~~

Humming, Plo opens the doors to his quarters and steps in, the sight of Feral and Savage curled up on the couch in front of him, the Zabrak brothers sleeping peacefully. On a chair nearby, Wolffe is reading his datapad, his head lifting to meet his gaze. He should get a holo of this.

“Sir,” Wolffe greets, sets the datapad down as Plo walks towards him. “Did you eat?”

“Yes,” Plo immediately says, and Wolffle closes his eyes like he’s going to do something rather drastic. The clone points to the kitchen, gives him a glare that makes him want to smile. “Wolffe, my dear...” He stumbles over the next word. “... partner, I did eat before going into the Archives.”

Woffle lifts an unimpressed eyebrow before his shoulders relax and the clone offers him a tight smile and a grimace. “Sorry, sir, watching these two are going to give me grey hair.”

“I have faith you will prevail, Wolffe,” Plo says, and- he knows that Wolffe will be able to handle it, knows that he can trust him with these kinds of tasks. Wolffe seems to know it, too, judging from the tilt of his head and the slow blink of dark brown eyes.

Breathes, and his chest tightens when Wolffe flashes him a sweet, tender smile, before it turns crooked with teeth. “You always do.”

“I always do,” he easily agrees, steps forward to gently tilt his head down to press his forehead against Wolffe’s.

He watches as Wolffe’s eyes flutter shut at the contact, and a comfortable silence surrounds them. Plo smiles behind his rebreather, and it’s calming, to stay like that with Wolffe, Wolffe’s hands catching his and tracing gentle shapes on his skin. It feels like there’s nothing that can stop him from feeling this much.

The Force hums with approval around them.

Wolffe slowly pulls away from him, dark eyes watching his every move. “Why was Master Windu looking for you this time?”

Plo pauses, and lets out a chuckle. “Heartstill.”

“You should have never written that novel, sir,” Wolffe says with an exasperated look, full of fondness and contentment and other emotions Plo doesn’t dare to say out loud. One look is enough for the both of them, enough to last them a lifetime.

It’s enough for them both.

“Ah, but Wolffe, where’s the fun in that?”

~~~~~~

Anakin stares at the message in front of him, before looking up to see his wife and boyfriend going through the senators’ fashion choice on their holograms. Both are laughing at something he can’t hear from where he is, before he looks back down at the message again.

Anakin, whatever you do, Obi-Wan’s message reads, do not claim that you wrote Heartstill. Or anger Master Windu.

Why would he claim that? Or anger Mace?

“Ani?” Padme calls, and he looks up to see his wife smiling that beautiful smile, and Fox with his really cute dimple. “What are you reading?”

“Obi-Wan’s messages to me,” he answers, sets the datapad down and joins them on the floor to stare at the new senator on the screen. Anakin reels back from the hologram of unbelievable taste, and wrinkles his nose. “Okay, what in the karking hells is that? Are they trying to copy Sidious’ fashion of puffy sleeves?”

“Yeah,” Fox says, his eyes bright and his smile sharp. “It’s really not that great, isn’t it, Ani?”

Fox’s use of his nickname makes him lean down and gently press a kiss on Fox’s cheek. The clone blushes, looks away, and Padme giggles and leans back against him. It’s nice, to have two of the people he cares about with him, and maybe they can plan out a wedding to include Fox to officially announce him as part of his and Padme’s married life.

It would make Fox happy, make Padme happy, and he wants that for them and more.

“What do you think about a wedding?” Anakin asks curiously. Fox’s head shoots up from staring at the hologram to stare at him, his cheeks flushing red at the mention of one.

“For Fox?” Padme’s smile is full of vicious triumph. “I think he’ll look good in blue.”

“I look best in red,” Fox tells them dryly, but he’s smiling, and Anakin can only count that as a victory, as a vow to the people he loves the most.

“You would look good either way, Fox,” Anakin reassures him.

They have a wedding to plan.

~~~~~~

Shaak slowly blinks. “I will bet two trips to the ice cream parlour for all the younglings and clones in small groups.”

“I will ask that if I win this, I get to have a month’s leave to travel with my Padawan,” Depa says as she drops a couple of credits into the pot. “He always did want to see the ancient Jedi Temples.”

“Try my cake for once, you all will,” Yoda adds. Everyone present (except for Kit and Agen, who are the subjects of the said bet) shudders at the memory of the bug-infested mud cake (Adi remembers seeing a frog leg sticking out of one of Yoda’s cakes once. It was slightly horrifying if you have to ask her).

Ki watches helplessly as his fellow Councillors place their bets, buries his face into his hands, and lets out a groan. How is he the only sane one left?

~~~~~~

Six days of investigation of his fellow Councillors later, Mace wordlessly hands the datapad (that has caused him several unnecessary headaches) back to Fives.

“Uh, Master, are you alright?” his Padawan asks, furrows his brows.

Mace only nods and firmly turns around, hears Fives following him. He’s going to lead Fives to the Archives to make him read the Jedi Order’s history. Maybe the entire history later, but he’s not so vicious to inflict that on his budding Padawan.

That novel is a headache and deserves to be treated as such after Fives gave it to him to read.

If anyone says that making Fives read the Jedi Order’s history is revenge, they are a filthy, filthy liar. This is justice at its finest form, and he’s going to make sure it stays that way. Preferably without Plo describing Zabrak poetry to him again. He still doesn’t know how he stayed there for six hours.

Now, for the bets on Kit and Agen... Mace is going to win it.

(Behind him, Fives shudders at the foreboding feeling of doom and hopes that his Master isn’t planning anything bad.)

((It’s only another couple of days later before Mace realizes that Plo didn’t deny anything and is left wondering if Plo wrote Heartstill or not. He still doesn’t have an answer.))

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