A.N: Took some liberties with the character of Ki Adi Mundi on this one.
The polished stone walls of the meeting room within the Galactic Senate building reflected the soft hum of ambient light panels. A single large window stretched across one side, revealing a panoramic view of Coruscant's sprawling skyline—a maze of flickering lights, endless streams of traffic, and towering spires piercing the night sky. Lelouch sat at the long, dark table, his posture regal and composed, his white robes pristine, as if untouched by the chaos of war. His violet eyes glowed faintly as he closed the holoprojector before him, cutting off his conversation with General Grievous.
With a faint sigh, Lelouch turned his attention back to the room's only other occupant, Jedi Master Ki-Adi-Mundi. The Cerean sat across from him, hands folded neatly before him, his expression calm and unreadable, though his smile carried a practiced warmth.
"Forgive the disturbance, Master Mundi," Lelouch said smoothly, leaning back in his chair. His voice was polite, his tone edged with a faint undertone of curiosity.
Mundi waved a hand, the movement slow and deliberate. "Think nothing of it, High General," he replied, his voice calm and steady, betraying no hint of offense. "I trust all is well on the front lines?"
A small smile played on Lelouch's lips. He made a dismissive gesture, his gloved hand slicing through the air as if the matter were beneath concern. "Nothing of consequence. Merely operational adjustments."
The Jedi inclined his head. "A relief, then." His eyes flicked to the door. "Will General Skywalker be joining us?"
Lelouch's gaze lingered on Mundi for a moment, as though calculating his response. Then, with a faint smile that did not reach his eyes, he answered, "I doubt it. He has been tasked with a…unique mission, escorting his Padawan to Onderon. Inciting rebellion in Confederate-controlled worlds. A daring approach... especially considering you were the one who proposed the idea to the Jedi High Council."
"Ah," Mundi murmured, nodding thoughtfully. "It does indeed ring a bell."
Lelouch's eyes narrowed slightly, his tone carrying a faint trace of amusement. "It is curious you bring that up, Master Mundi. After all, it was you who put their names forward for the mission, was it not?"
For the briefest moment, Mundi's tranquil expression faltered, replaced by a subtle flicker of something—hesitation? No. Merely nothingness. He recovered quickly, smiling faintly. "Did I now? Forgive this old man, High General. Memory tends to fade faster with age."
"Perhaps," Lelouch replied, his tone sharp as glass. "Or perhaps you are intimately aware of Skywalker's Padawan's…impulsiveness. Her tendency to act on emotion rather than reason. Perhaps your memory serves you better than anyone elses."
Mundi's serene smile did not waver, but his silence spoke volumes.
"Perhaps," Lelouch continued, "you are aware of her…attachments. Her feelings for a certain individual on Onderon. A son of a former Senate representative, if I recall correctly. Such feelings could lead to decisions most unwise, forcing her into the jurisdiction of the Grand Army of the Republic. A decisive pitfall, wouldn't you agree? It would not only be a severe blow to the entire Jedi Order, not to mention remove one glaring attachment of the chosen one... to your order..."
"Perhaps," Mundi echoed, his voice steady but devoid of anything.
The room fell into an uneasy silence, the only sound the faint hum of air circulating through unseen vents. Lelouch broke the quiet, his tone light but laced with precision.
"You are held in high regard, Jedi Master Ki-Adi-Mundi. Not for your skill—though it is formidable—nor for your record, which, let's be honest, has its…blemishes. You've contradicted the Order's principles more than once, and yet the High Council consistently backs you."
Mundi's hands tightened slightly, his expression unchanging.
"Your vehement denials of the Sith's return, your defense of Count Dooku even after the assassination attempt on Senator Amidala, your willingness to sacrifice lives like pieces on a board… And yet, when the Temple Guards were given a singular commander, it was you they chose. Even now, they regard you with deference beyond what your rank commands. Why is that, I wonder? Many things don't add up when considering your species are famed for their critical thinking, capable of viewing a situation from two different perspectives at the same time, yet you act as if you lack even the possibility to consider any additional one at times... at certain crucial times."
Mundi's smile remained, faint but deliberate. "I believe you already have a suspicion, High General. Why not share it with this old man?"
Lelouch's eyes glinted with cold amusement. "A traitor, perhaps? Another Jedi turned Sith? Unlikely." His voice dropped, the room growing heavier as he released his power into the Force, the pressure like a crashing wave. "And... if you don't serve the Jedi... nor the Sith, then that only leaves the Force itself."
Lelouch's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, silence reigned. Then, slowly, a smirk spread across his lips. 'So my guess was correct,' he thought. 'Ki-Adi-Mundi serves neither the Jedi nor the Sith. He serves only the Force.'
"You sit here, unperturbed by what I represent."
Mundi's smile was faint but unwavering, his calm demeanor like an unyielding mountain. "The Force does not see Sith or Jedi as everyone else seems to do. They are but tools, as am I. You are no different—an instrument of the Force, as much as I am. Whether you realize it or not."
'For now...' A voice whispered in his mind.
Lelouch leaned back slightly, his violet eyes gleaming with intrigue. "So you do know who... what I am. And yet, you remain unconcerned. Why is that, Master Mundi?"
The Jedi's smile widened ever so slightly, his gaze steady. "Because what you are is irrelevant, everything is irrelevant. The only thing that matters is the Force's will. I am here because it is where the Force has placed me. And you are here because it is where the Force has placed you. All else is inconsequential."
Lelouch chuckled softly, a sound both amused and calculating. "You truly are remarkable, Master Mundi. Most would see me as a threat to be eliminated. Yet here you are, unshaken."
Mundi's calm did not waver. "I see no threat, High General. Only purpose. Now, shall we dispense with this game? You did not summon me here merely to confirm your suspicions. What is the true purpose of this meeting?"
The smirk on Lelouch's face deepened as he leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "The future, Master Mundi. The future of the galaxy, of the Jedi Order... and of the Sith Order."
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The hum of the ship's engines was steady, a backdrop to the growing tension in the cabin. Obi-Wan Kenobi sat across from Anakin Skywalker, his expression calm yet searching. Between them, Ahsoka Tano leaned against a bulkhead, her hands clasped in front of her as she tried to appear at ease.
But the Force told a different story.
Obi-Wan could feel it—an undercurrent of unease radiating from Anakin, like ripples on the surface of a still pond. It wasn't something he could pinpoint, but it was there, nagging at the edges of his perception.
"You've been awfully quiet, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, his tone light but probing.
Anakin looked up from where he had been absently toying with his lightsaber, his face a mask of composure. "Just focused, Master. Onderon isn't exactly known for being straightforward."
Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied his former apprentice. There was a flicker of something in Anakin's tone—defensiveness, perhaps? He wasn't sure.
"Focused is good," Obi-Wan replied, his voice carrying the faintest note of skepticism. "But there's a difference between focus and... withdrawal. You seem... distant, Anakin."
Ahsoka perked up at this, her large eyes darting between the two men. "Master Kenobi's right, Skyguy. You've been kind of... I don't know, broody. Did something happen on your last mission?"
Anakin smiled faintly, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Nothing worth mentioning. Just another day fighting a war."
Obi-Wan leaned forward, his hands resting on his knees. "You and I have been through enough to know that sometimes a 'day fighting a war' leaves marks that aren't visible, Anakin. You can talk to me."
For a moment, Anakin's expression flickered—just a fraction—but the mask returned just as quickly. "I appreciate the concern, Master, but I'm fine. Really."
Obi-Wan's brow furrowed. The Force wasn't lying to him; he could feel the storm beneath Anakin's surface, a swirling chaos that the young man was desperately trying to suppress.
Ahsoka shifted uncomfortably, trying to lighten the mood. "Maybe he just feels like he's in a tin can, not our usual accommodations." She said as she tapped the hull behind her.
Anakin chuckled softly at that, glancing at her with an unreadable expression. "You're not wrong, Snips. But I think we can handle it."
There was something in his tone that made Ahsoka hesitate. The warmth she usually associated with Anakin was there, but it felt muted, almost calculated. She frowned, glancing at Obi-Wan, who seemed equally unsettled.
"You're sure everything's fine, Anakin?" Obi-Wan pressed, his voice quieter now, more personal. "I've seen you struggle before, and I know the toll this war takes on all of us. You don't have to carry it alone."
Anakin's jaw tightened, and for a moment, it looked as though he might finally crack. But then he took a deep breath, his face softening into a forced smile. "I know, Master. But I promise, I'm fine. There's nothing to worry about."
Obi-Wan leaned back slightly, his gaze never leaving Anakin. He didn't believe him—not entirely—but he knew better than to push too hard.
Ahsoka, sensing the growing tension, tried again to change the subject. "So, Onderon. What's the plan when we get there? Besides dropping me off to babysit the rebels?"
Anakin smirked at her, the faintest hint of his old self shining through. "Babysitting? You're leading a tactical insurgency, Snips. Hardly babysitting."
Ahsoka rolled her eyes dramatically. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't forget to pick me up when it's over, okay? I'd hate to get stuck there."
Anakin chuckled, and for a brief moment, the tension seemed to ease. But then he glanced at her again, that unreadable expression returning, his thin smile tinged with something darker—something he was trying to bury.
As the ship began its descent toward Onderon, the three of them fell into an uneasy silence. The verdant planet loomed below, its surface dotted with signs of conflict and rebellion.
Obi-Wan finally broke the quiet as the landing sequence began. "Anakin, if there's ever a time you need to talk... I'm here."
Anakin nodded, his expression unreadable. "Thank you, Master. But I'll be fine."