Twelve seats encircle the chamber, each etched with centuries of silent judgment. Today, they are filledbut not all speak. Some watch. Some weigh.
In the center, Mace Windu stands tall in his dark robes, the soft hum of a holopad the only sound in the room. The contents flash in quiet sequence: mission footage, decrypted comm logs, civilian testimonies, vitals from rescued hostages. All stamped with the seal: Vireen Extraction, Class-2 Tactical Response.
Windu: "This is the full mission report. No edits. No omissions."
He sets the holopad into the holotable's emitter. A blue projection risesghostlike outlines of Kaelen in motion. In one clip, he deflects a blaster bolt with his forearm gauntlet. In another, he disarms two attackers using joint locks too fast for most to follow. His lightsaber appears late and rarely.
The projection flickers out.
Obi-Wan Kenobi shifts in his chair, brows low. "This is surgical work. But surgical with a hammer."
Ki-Adi-Mundi leans forward, fingers steepled. "We've received raw footage. Kaelen broke an unarmed man's clavicle. Another attackerdisarmed and knocked unconscious with a knee strike. He used his gauntlets before his lightsaber. Before the Force."
His voice holds no ragejust calculated concern.
Windu meets it with steadiness. "And not one hostage was lost. Not one innocent harmed."
Shaak Ti speaks next, her voice like silk pulled taut. "The concern is not just brutality. It's fluidity. He blended Mandalorian striking forms into Soresu like muscle memory. Not by instruction instinct. The instructors report that he doesn't hesitate. He adapts. That's what disturbs themnot failure, but completeness."
Her words hang like incense.
Across the chamber, Plo Koon raises a clawed hand, slow and deliberate.
Plo: "Unorthodox does not mean unstable. I've watched him in the training halls. He guides Padawans without words. He shows control. Discipline. Humility."
(pause)
"More than some who speak more politely."
Yoda has remained still all morning, hands folded on his cane, eyes half-lidded. Now he speaks without looking up.
Yoda: "Necessary, this mission was. But revealed much, it has."
The pause is longer this time. The air feels dense. No breeze, yet everything shifts.
Windu steps forward. He presses a control on the holotable, and the data vanishes. Only his voice remains.
Windu: "I'm not here to excuse his methods. They were blunt. But they were not reckless."
(beat)
"He did not act out of anger. He chose precision. And when the line blurred between saving lives and protecting them chose restraint. Not peace. But restraint."
The Council chamber stays silent.
A long pause, measured not in seconds but in stares.
Yoda's ears twitch. Shaak Ti tilts her head, just slightly. Obi-Wan closes his eyes.
But it's Ki-Adi-Mundi who speaks next, already sharpening the next question.
The silence fractures first with a scoff.
Ki-Adi-Mundi leans forward again, frustration now audible in his tone.
Mundi: "Restraint? There are younglings in the Temple who wake in fear of him. They whisper stories about what he was before the Order. And none of them were taught those tales by outsiders."
Windu doesn't move, but the edge in his voice returns quieter, colder.
Windu: "He didn't write those stories. We did. When we dragged a child into our halls and made him kneel before we were willing to call him a student."
A flicker of tension crackles in the Force. No one breathes.
Shaak Ti rises slightly in her seat, the ceremonial folds of her garment whispering with motion. Her voice, usually composed, now sharpens not with anger, but urgency.
Shaak Ti: "This is not about fear. It is about the trajectory. He does not hesitate, but his instincts are forged from survival. From. From conditioning. Jedi do not react as if peace has already failed. He does."
She pauses. "We shape peacekeepers. But he fights like a warning."
Obi-Wan Kenobiuntil now, contemplative glances toward Yoda, eyes flicking between the seated Masters.
Obi-Wan: "We all know the battlefield is changing. He was effective. That's not in question. But we must decide something harder: Does he represent us? Or does he simply serve us?"
The words hit like a weight dropped into still water. A ripple through the Force.
Plo Koon murmurs, half to himself: "Some tools cut too deeply to be wielded without cost."
But it is Yoda who finally moves, eyes lifting slowly, the creases in his brow older than any.
Yoda: "A tool, he must not become. But shunned, neither."
(beat)
"Watch him, we will. Test him again, we must. The line between peacekeeper and soldier… walked too close, he has."
.....
The chamber falls into silence again.
Outside, a gust of wind brushes the tower windows.
Inside, the shadows are no longer still.
His hood is lowered. His armor is strippedonly the Jedi tunic remains, streaked faintly with signs of field wear. His posture is upright, spine like steel, but not aggressive. Not defensive.
Just present.
Twelve Masters sit in a circle above. The room is designed to intimidate. But Kaelen's gaze doesn't falter as he walks into the center. The floor feels smaller here. The shadows last longer.
He stops. Hands at his sides. Eyes steady.
Ki-Adi-Mundi wastes no time.
Mundi: "Do you deny using Mandalorian combat techniques to incapacitate fleeing attackers?"
Kaelen: "No."
Mundi: "Do you deny engaging in violence before attempting negotiation or peaceful de-escalation?"
Kaelen: "There was no room for negotiation. No time to de-escalate. Only lives to protect."
Mundi: "And who gave you the authority to decide when peace is optional?"
Kaelen doesn't blink.
Kaelen: "No one. That's why I chose carefully."
A silence stirs through the chamber. Not tension calculation. Masters exchange glances. A few lean forward. Others lean away.
Shaak Ti's voice enters softly.
Shaak Ti: "You speak of choice as if it answers to you. The Force binds all. You do not stand above it."
Kaelen: "I never claimed to. I stood in the place no one else would."
His voice doesn't risebut something in the Force pulses.
Obi-Wan tilts his head slightly, studying him. Not judgment. Just fascination.
Plo Koon leans forward now, hands steepled.
Plo Koon: "And if next time, there is a line? Clear. Consequential. Do you step over it again?"
Kaelen looks up at the circle of ancient eyes.
Kaelen: "Then I'll decide… whether stepping over it saves more than staying behind it."
A long pause. His words hang in unyielding, but not proud. They carry no apology. No resentment.
Only clarity.
Yoda's eyes narrownot in anger. In reflection.
Across the chamber, Windu says nothing. But his silence is not distant. It's alignment.
The moment lingers.
Kaelen does not bow when dismissed.
He turns and walks outexactly as he entered: alone, composed, and watched by eyes unsure whether they've witnessed prophecy… or foreshadowing.
The chamber is emptier in sound, but fuller in pressure.
Kaelen still stands at the centerhis shoulders square, his chin level, though sweat curls faintly behind his ear. He hasn't spoken since his last words. He doesn't need to.
The Masters speak not to him, but around him. And yet every word cuts toward his future.
Ki-Adi-Mundi is the first to break the quiet.
Mundi: "He's not ready."
Cold. Certain. His arms remain crossed as if closing a door.
Shaak Ti, gaze heavy but not cruel, follows.
Shaak Ti: "He's dangerous."
It's not condemnation. It's an observation. As though she's seen a fire spark inside the Temple and knows what it could become.
Windu: "He's necessary."
Not loud. But sharp. A blade against the grain.
He does not speak it to persuade. He speaks it as truth.
"I watched the footage. He didn't act recklessly. He acted so others wouldn't have to."
Plo Koon, voice deep with age but wrapped in patience:
Plo Koon: "He's aware of it."
A pause.
"And he fears it not for himself, but for what it might cost."
Obi-Wan, younger, more uncertain, hesitates before adding:
Obi-Wan: "…He deserves supervision. Not exile."
He casts a glance at Kaelenmeasuring not his power, but his restraint.
Eyes shift to Yoda, who has yet to speak. The room stills, the Force seeming to hum closer.
He leans on his cane, slowly standing. His voice is softer than the restbut carries deeper.
Yoda:
"Clouded, your path is… but wrong, your heart is not.
Built from fear, exile is. From judgment, growth must come."
He closes his eyes for a breath. Then they open toward Kaelen.
"Watched, you will be. But stifled, you must not become."
No formal vote is cast.
But the consensus forms like fog coalescing into shape.
Windu steps forward and turns toward Kaelenhis voice formal, even as his eyes betray a deeper weight.
Windu:
"You are cleared to continue operations for the Order.
But effective immediately, all missions must be debriefed in full.
No autonomy without oversight. You will report to me directly. Understood?"
Kaelen's response is short. Not defiant or disciplined.
Kaelen:
"Understood."
A pause.
Kaelen:
"I expected no less."
He does not bow.
But as he turns to leave, the Council doesn't stop him. Nor do they speak.
Behind him, twelve Masters sit in silenceunified only by uncertainty.
Outside the chamber doors, the Temple light flickers.
Something old has been preserved.
Something new has been allowed to live.
Windu walks beside Kaelensteps slow, measured. The corridor stretches long and quiet, flanked by alcoves of ancient Masters frozen in meditation and battle stances.
They pass a statue of Master Fay. Another of Qigong Kree. All carved in serenity. Silent judges.
Windu finally breaks the silence.
Windu:
"They don't trust you."
No accusation. Just truth, laid bare like a blade on the table.
Kaelen doesn't stop walking. He doesn't even blink.
Kaelen:
"But you did."
Windu:
"I still do."
He says it's not like a gift, but a burden.
"That's why it matters."
Kaelen exhales once through his nose. No scoff. No smile.
Kaelen:
"And if I fail that trust?"
Windu's eyes flick to the shadows lining the wallslong, pointed, like blades cast by the statues.
Windu:
"Then it'll be because you crossed a line I couldn't see coming."
He pauses.
"And I'll have to decide if I follow… or stop you."
Kaelen's jaw clenches, but only for a heartbeat.
Kaelen:
"And if I never cross it?"
Windu stops walking.
Kaelen halts half a step later.
Windu looks out through the tall windows. Coruscant stretches beneath themspires and towering, wrapped in dim gold, skyways painted in endless lines of traffic.
Windu:
"Then the Council will draw a new one anyway."
They stand in silence.
Kaelen glances at the horizonthen down. His hands flex slightly at his sides.
Freshly cleaned gauntlets… but the plating still carries tiny etches of the last battle. Like ghost-stains.
Kaelen:
"The noise is where I work."
His voice is quiet. Not coldbut accepting.
Windu doesn't correct him. Don't try to convince him otherwise.
Instead:
Windu:
"Then make sure you're the signal in it. Not just another sound."
They don't shake hands.
They don't bow.
But when they part, it's not in anger or distance.
It's in understanding.
Each returns to the in his own wayone through order, the other through shadow.