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“Hi, Mace.” Jaster’s voice filters through the comm before his image shows up, and Mace already feels a lump forming in his throat at the sheer warmth of it.
“Hello.” He manages before it gains enough mass to congest his speech. It takes a moment, but soon Jaster’s face pops into view and Mace, who currently feels more a miasma of fatigue and heartache than human, still feels a vague sort of relief at the sight of it. It's a response trained over these many years, a naturally formed association automatically recognizing Jaster’s bare face as a precursor to positive feelings.
Jaster squints at the hologram.
“Glad to see you're safe and sound.”
Mace can only nod, watching Jaster’s face go from pleasant neutrality to concern as he studies him.
“You are safe and sound?” Jaster asks, “Mission is over? Back at your home?” Mace tilts his chin again. Jaster grunts an acknowledgement, not satisfied with his lack of response.
"There's something wrong, you look tense. What's going on?”
Of course, Jaster sees him. He always does. The lump in his throat dissolves enough to speak.
“I called to hear your voice.”
Jaster’s eyebrows tick, eyes widening for a moment before he leans forward in his chair, reaching to move his comm closer before settling back.
“I understand.” Another lovely thing about Jaster: the majority of the time that he says ‘I understand’ Mace knows that he actually does, and this case is no exception. “Anything that you can talk about?”
“Only that it was a challenging mission.” Mace says, piecing his words together carefully. “And that I continue to be surprised by people's willingness to choose cruelty over peace.”
Jaster makes a small, sympathetic noise. “You can fill someone a glass but you can't make them drink.”
“But if they are dehydrated to the verge of death, perhaps you should.” Mace counters and Jaster shakes his head.
“That's called waterboarding.” He says dryly. If Mace hadn't been feeling so awful, he'd probably see the humor in it.
“My point is, I know that you gave them a chance, Mace.” Jaster continues, voice softening as he tilts his head, searching for Mace's eyes through the hologram. “You always do, even when others wouldn't. That's what makes you so good.”
Mace thinks on this, struggles with it and wants to deny it because:
“There's good. And there's good enough.”
“You can't have a career like yours and still have an inadequacy complex.” Jaster replies bluntly. “Snap out of it. Get over it. See the bigger picture. Whatever you did you did for a reason, and knowing you that reason included completing mission objectives down to the punctuation. We can talk about goodness and choices but at the end of the day that's the only fair metric to measure your success against.”
“That's not the point.” Mace retorts testily. “People suffered and all I could do was witness.”
“Sure you did.”
“What?”
“Look me in the eye and tell me that your mission objective was to go stand by quietly, and I'll believe that you only “witnessed”.”
Mace has nothing to say to that. Jaster lets the words settle for a few beats, then sighs heavily. “Look, Mace, you are good, whether you believe it or not. But you and I both know that you need to believe it if you want to keep doing what you're doing. I know that whatever happened to make you feel like you were powerless must have been horrific. I'm sorry- I'm sorry that you had to go through that, and that I can't be more of a comfort to you right now.”
“No, you are.” Mace interrupts him, Jaster’s steady confident belief quieting the storm inside him, moving towards peace. “You are.”
It's quiet for a moment, then Jaster says “I’m glad.” At the same time that Mace confesses.
“I wish I could be with you.”
Jaster’s expression is flooded with concern that hardens into resolve as he leans even closer, his figure flickering and morphing as the hologram struggles to render. His voice still comes through firm and clear.
“If you need me, I'll come to you.”
It's more than a promise. Mace just needs to say the word and Jaster will put him first. Mace cannot allow that, doesn't even want to, so it's easy to shake his head.
“I'm alright, Jaster. These feelings will pass with more meditation.”
Jaster narrows his eyes at him, not quite disbelieving but searching for evidence to support Mace’s claim.
“If it's meditation that you need, why did you call me?”
Mace looks at him through the hologram and feels longing so intense that he has to close his eyes. He can feel the lingering unease stretching tension under his skin, and knows that Jaster’s presence would ease it instantly, wrapping feelings of safety and care around him in its place. It would be so easy to say ‘I changed my mind, I need you here.’ It would pull Jaster from his own duties, but it would make him feel so much better.
Mace recognizes the beginnings of demand, of the thought that he must be with him, that their relationship owes him his presence as a comfort. He pays no more attention to the thoughts as they pass, allowing only enough observation to take care that they do not take root. Jaster is a gift and a blessing. Mace can and should take every opportunity to connect with him that they have, but never more.
“I suppose,” he answers finally. “I knew that you, also, could be what I needed.”
“I'm glad.” Jaster replies, a gentle smile on his face. “And my offer stands, just in case.”