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Satele Shan sighed and discreetly rubbed her aching temple with one hand. She hoped the others gathered around the table wouldn’t notice that her attention was waning. She'd always hated meetings, especially when she was young. Jace had once said that meetings were the places that out of touch elders went in order to plan how to waste the lives of the younger generation, back when they were still youths fighting in the first war. She’d always been quietly amused by that description, though she never would have agreed to it in a place where her Masters could hear her.
But she had gotten older and risen through the ranks, becoming a Knight and then a Master. That progression meant soon she had been invited to them as part of the planning process. That was when she began to find meetings less of onerous lectures by elders to suffer through in silence, and more of a chance to articulate her perspectives and hope that they could shape the war.
Now that she was the Grand Master of the Jedi Order, the meetings were unavoidable. The responsibility these meetings represented was invisible to others, but felt like a heavy cloak, a weight dragging her down into the mire of guilt, fear, and self-doubt. The decisions she made here in this room would be consequential for hundreds of lives across the galaxy, and she had only a few decades of knowledge and the wisdom of the Force with which to make them.
Of course, reacing out to the Force for insight was very difficult when there was so much high emotion clouding the room. Some of it came from the general down mood in the war room, but most of the current passions came from the shouting going on. The prime offender was General Garza, though the current object of her ire, SIS Director Marcus Trant, was matching her, in hostility if not in volume.
Supreme Commander Rans slammed a hand on the table. “Enough!” he snapped.
Garza and Trant both fell silent at the implicit command in that tone. Everyone in the room, Satele included, looked up at the head of the Republic’s armed forces and have him their full attention.
"Everyone in this room is an adult and should damn well act like it. And if you cannot speak civilly to a fellow professional at the top of their field, then abdicate and promote a subordinate who can."
He looked around and made sure everyone was listening. In a softer tone, he continued, "We've been in here four hours. Let's take an hour, get a meal, and continue." It sounded sensible to Satele, and wonder of wonders, no one else objected.
She was halfway through the meal line when she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was General Garza.
"Master Jedi, I was hoping we could lunch together,"
"That would be fine, General."
"How many times do I have to tell you it's Elin when we're not in a meeting?" the officer complained rhetorically, waving her hand dismissively. "I'm going to hear enough "Generals" when the meeting starts back up."
Satele smiled. "Very well."
They were quiet until they'd found a seat. Satele had chosen a table by the window that had a view over the Garden of Equality. She found looking outside of the walls of the tower calmed her. Seeing Coruscant, the towers and taxis and walking paths full of people, reminded her of what they were protecting. She could feel the bustle of all those lives, the sparks that in the end were what really mattered about the Republic. It was for them, and the countless other lives, on countless other planets, that they were gambling with. Not abstract statistics.
"You're brooding."
She turned her attention away from the Force and inward, back to her companion. "Communing with the Force," she corrected gently. "But it was rude. I'm sorry."
"It's fine. What's bothering you?"
I don't want to think about it until we're back in the chambers," she said.
"How's your luck with the menfolk going?" Garza asked. The topic change was so quick that she must have been planning the question.
Satele was so startled by the inquiry that she laughed. It was the first genuinely happy sound she'd produced in some time. "Elin!"
"I know, I know. "A Jedi does not want attachments."," Garza parroted. "But you can't blame me for asking."
Satele had to admit that the other woman had a pretty good approximation of a creaky old woman's nagging voice."I should be asking you that question, I think," she teased.
"I'm not looking for ex-Garza number 4, if that's what you mean. Men are idiots with big dicks and small brains. That's why they come up with hairbrained plans and get everyone killed."
Her tone was light, but there was enough sharpness in the words that Satele wasn't sure how much was gruff joking and how much was actual resentment.
"Supreme Commander Rans has his priorities straight and doesn't look to be a slouch in the package department," the Jedi offered with a glint in her eye, hoping to lighten the other woman's mood.
"I've learned my lesson about men in uniforms." She narrowed her eyes at Satele. "I hear tell you had to learn that one yourself."
"I think you've been watching too many bad holovids about the forbidden romance between soldiers and their Jedi."
Garza's laugh sounded more like an akk dog's bark. "Like I'd want to see some decrepit old wizard with a stick up his ass take his robes off."
Satele snorted. "I think the actors in those vids are all young and attractive."
"They'd have to be. Makes the sweet corruption so much better. But we all know real Jedi are ugly hags." She winked at Satele.
"Just like all Generals are leather-faced?"
"You got it." Garza raised her mug of ale and drained it. "Well, if you're not breaking your Jedi vows and seducing attractive young men, what are you up to?"
"I'd like to take some time to explore new ruins found in Kaleth. It's an ancient city on Tython," she added for the other woman's benefit. "Jedi should be explorers, lore-keepers."
"You found Tython. That was an impressive accomplishment of exploration."
"I'd like to uncover more of its secrets. But for some reason, the Council doesn't want its Grand Master running off into the wilderness."
"Now that's my type of exploring. I went diving through ruins once," Garza said after a moment. "Manaan. The firaxa sharks get curious when you poke about some of the wrecked settlements."
"You're a diver?" Satele had never heard that tidbit before.
"I prefer skydiving to water diving. Less like being in a vacsuit. But yes, I went diving a few times. Husband number two managed to convince the brass it counted as training to work in unconventional environments."
Satele laughed. "So your whole squad went on vacation under the cover of training exercises?"
"Something like that."
"Sounds like soldiers have more fun than wizards."
"Speaking of wizards," Garza said, pointing across the room at another Jedi. "I wish your Master Kaedan wasn't here.At least you've kept him out of the war room. That tightass would do the opposite of helping the situation."
"His style is rather...confrontational," Satele admitted. "We could use a few more cool heads on the committee."
"You're not going to find too many of those these days," Garza told her. "Though there is that Senator from Corellia who knows what he's doing..." Her finger pointed towards the man in question.
"You say that because he was one of yours," Satele retorted.
"And how," the General said with a wink.
Satele shook her head. "I don't want to know about your conquests in that much detail," she told her friend. "I'm curious about your skydiving. Tell me about..."