Chapter 4

"But I already said I was sorry!"

"And I heard you the first time just as clearly Anakin. Which still doesn't change the fact that the irreplaceable artefact of Master Vodo Siosk-Baas remains in ruins. As such, you shall remain scrubbing the floor. Put that vibro-mop to some good use, there's a good Padawan."

"But I'm already done!" the child whined petulantly up at my position as I sat cross-legged on one of the large library tables.

I glanced over the brim of my flimsiplast sheet detailing the schematics of the ship the Order would loan me and a brief summary of my space route, pinning Anakin with a dry look and a raised eyebrow.

"You missed a spot." I remark, indicating the dusty shelves lining the wall behind him and as he turns and cranes his neck to look up at all of them I can see him slump in suitably dramatic despair.

"C'mon, that's not fair! Those were dusty already!"

"If you truly believe that the library was in such disarray before your little… tumble, then by all means, raise your complains with Master Jocasta. I am sure she would humbly appreciate your wizened feedback."

"... Oh wow, would you look at that! It seems I missed a spot!"

I suppress my chuckles with great effort as I hide my grin behind my flimsiplast sheet as the sound of the vibro-mop starts back up again and silence returns to our little corner of the mostly empty reading hall.

My eyes scan over the Aurabesh on the page in front of me but I no longer truly take in the words, having memorized them by heart by now. While I'm raring to go, the ship itself needs to be refuelled first and undergo a standard list of safety and precaution checks while flight and departure authorization are being arranged with the Coruscanti Spaceport, in order to make sure I don't accidentally hit someone or get misidentified as a hostile vessel by the small defensive fleet in orbit once I take off.

All this sitting around shouldn't be an issue for a venerable old Jedi Master like myself, but then again I would hardly call myself "venerable" (now old, that, unfortunately, I would have to concede). As such, I couldn't quite keep worry from gnawing at me. I drew on the Force to soothe my fraying nerves and troubled state of mind, but the clarity it brought with it only enhanced my thoughts on what Yaddle might be enduring at that very moment.

Thankfully, after what seemed like an eternity of me trying to meditate and Anakin quitely (and not-so quietly) grumbling about his terrible lot in life, a protocol droid approached me, the rhythmic clank of its feet against the marble-like flooring raising me from my circular thoughts.

Maybe it's because we didn't have them back in my previous life (or at least not ones that were this level of advanced), but I've found that, even after more than 800 years, I'm still not entirely used to droids and can pick one out from a crowd just by the sound and rhythm of their feet.

Too… precise and regular, for an organic.

"Master Yoda? Your shuttle has been prepared and approved for take-off. If you would follow me to the hangars please?" it's modulated voice comes out, almost aggressively polite, as is common for most (Republic) protocol droids.

"Yes yes, lead the way and all that. Anakin?"

"Yes Master?" the child asks hopefully as I climb down from the table.

"Once you're done here, report to Master Jocasta and ask if she needs any help with other chores that might need doing. If she allows to let you go instead, then seek out Master Jin, he'll know how to keep you on your toes until I get back." I say, before my feet finally touch the ground and I turn, facing towards a dejected looking Anakin.

Stepping closer to him, I pat him comfortingly on the arm.

"Cheer up, Anakin. I know that Master Jocasta seemed really scary and angry, but she can be quite reasonable, I think you'll find. She's quite nice to those who don't wreck her sanctum. And you already know young Qui-Gon: I rather thought you two had hit it off quite well to be honest. Certainly better than you did with Obi-Wan!" I say with a throaty chuckle, which dies off when Anakin just shrugs in response, not really looking back towards me.

Letting out a sigh, I squeeze his hand, finally establishing eye contact with the child.

"I know that you don't like this, Anakin. But this is for your safety. Where I'm going… you could get very hurt and I would never want that to happen to you. Not to mention that I'm far too scared of your mother's wrath to ever even consider putting you in harms way." I finish with a sly grin and that finally nets me a reaction as Anakin can't quite contain a small snort of his own.

No doubt the legendary tirade his mother had given me over the holo after she learned we had been to Naboo sprang to mind (it could've been my imagination, but I'm fairly certain my ears were ringing by the end of it).

"Anakin. Qui-Gon has my full confidence, and while the Jedi and I don't always see eye to eye, I can assure you that here you will be safe and well-cared for. Try to make the most of the situation and I promise that I'll come back as soon as I can, alright?"

Anakin remains silent for a few moments, before giving me a small nod and a hesitant smile, one which I return in full, before turning towards the droid which hasn't even moved so much as an inch during our entire conversation, waiting with the patience only a droid (and a very select group of sapient species) can display.

"Lead on."

And with that I stalk out the library, feeling Anakin's eyes on my back even as my thoughts return towards Yaddle and the dangers my old enemy may have laying in wait for me.

The walk from the Library to the Hangars still takes nearly fifteen minutes, despite the use of impressively fast repulsor lifts, as the Temple is simply that large. Stepping out of the last of the repulsorlifts I step foot straight into the Jedi Order's Hanger and it's an impressive sight to be sure. A huge cavernous space several stories high, with one entire wall instead replaced by a thin ray shield, allowing for ships to pass through while keeping dust and the like out and incidentally giving a humbling view of the horizon spanning city spires that form this ecumenopolis the Order calls home.

From one end of the Hangar to the other in a formation that with some optimism and a lot of goodwill can be described as "organized chaos" starships of every model, make and era are lined up, with cables and fuel hoses thicker than my body strewn haphazardly between them as astromechs and engineers hurry back and forth in an seemingly incomprehensible swarm.

Each vehicle is unique, with a clear lived in history, as the Jedi don't exactly possess a fleet, but receive many donations from various corners of the Republic (usually politicians looking to curry favors but also the occasional wealthy merchant grateful for provided protection of his trade routes for instance). This in addition to whatever funds funnel into the Order's coffers through various Jedi-owned or supported organizations, like the selling of crops from our agri-worlds, though a lot of what is grown or produced in such businesses is also set aside for charity work

Still, despite their vast and varied origins, many of the vehicles seem to lean towards a certain design philosophy: medium to small size with decent engines and nimble handling respective for their weight class. The type of ship that is large enough to carry multiple passengers in relative comfort while remaining nimble enough to be a force to be reckoned with in a dogfight in the hands of a suitably skilled pilot.

The perfect type of ship for a Jedi venturing forth in parts less savory than diplomats' quarters and royal palaces.

Despite the chaos and noise surrounding us, the droid doesn't falter in its steps (because of course it doesn't) and leads me straight towards the back of the hangar bay. As we step around a massive generator block, I'm surprised to see someone already waiting nearby one of the closer ships, his back turned towards us.

"Coming to see me off? You shouldn't have."

"A time for levity, this is not. If your accusation are true, then many horrors await you. Many more, may have befallen Yaddle already."

With those words, my brother looks back over his shoulder at me, before turning fully and dismissing the droid with a nod of his head. As it bows to both of us (an absolutely perfect 45 degree angle) and departs, Yoda waits for a few moments for it to leave outside of earshot, before continuing in our native language.

"So yes, I came to see you off. I wanted to impress the importance of the mission on you, and remind you of your main objective here. Your number one priority, superseding everything else, is to bring Yaddle back home to us. No matter what else, or who else you may find, do not let yourself be tricked or distracted. Remember, we believe you now about the resurgence of the Sith: do not risk her life, or yours, to bring back further proof. The Sith will be exposed, in time, but not at the cost of the lives of our own."

I nod in response, my expression matching his grave one, before it's broken up by a roguish grin.

"You know, if you wanted to tell me that you cared, you could've just said so. You don't have to turn everything into a speech you know?"

Despite his status as the wizened, 900-something Grandmaster of the Jedi, my brother can't keep himself from rolling his eyes as he turns away from me and back towards the ship.

"I see no need to repeat that which is already well-known. Besides, I do not turn everything into a speech." he replies dryly, which only causes my grin to widen further.

"Really? 'Cause I remember this one time when we were young and we were eating out at a restaurant and when I wanted to order the Kubindian Royal Jelly Rolls a certain someone tried to give me dietary advice and explain to me why I shouldn't as it might make me fat."

"We were barely into our hundreds, and I would hardly call that a speech-"

"They ended up throwing us out because we had ended up staying there past closing time, little brother."

"... hmpf. You were getting fat. Besides, your dietary habits, atrocious as they may be, are not why we're here. This ship has been made available for you for the duration of your mission and will be kept on stand-by afterwards as we attempt to root out the Sith. I suspect you will try to be at the frontlines as much as possible, and you'll need a ship at the ready in order to do so."

Deciding to stop teasing my brother, I follow his outstretched hand to the ship in front of us. I can spot that it's a freighter straight away, one of medium size, about 40 meters long and 20 meters tall, but if I hadn't been reading and rereading its specs for the past half hour I definitely would have struggled to identify the actual make of it.

After all, you hardly saw one of these around these days.

"A Barloz class huh? This thing is practically an antique, are you telling me this is the best the Jedi Order can spare? It predates the YT-series and even those are getting old-fashioned by now!"

"The best? No. The earliest available? Yes. Additionally, while it has indeed been long since replaced by newer, more modern designs, this original build has served many captains perfectly well. It should prove very useful for your current mission: it might not be the most maneuverable, but her thick plating means she can take a hit and we've just completed updating her engines and Drive System, so you should be able to get in, retrieve Yaddle and get out of there immediately, even under the heaviest of suppressive fire. A feat even the newest of ships would struggle with." Yoda quickly responds, clearly having put much thought into this before assigning the ship to me.

He glances back at me over his shoulder.

"Trust me in this brother. She will serve you well. I know it."

Realizing that he was drawing on something the Force has shown him, I back down. Honestly, I shouldn't be surprised: listen long enough to the Force and certain preferences for themes and tropes become apparent as it weaves its inscrutable tapestry of destiny.

'And for some Force-damned reason, it always seems to involve putting the hero in a piece of junk because it has a 'heart'. What's wrong with you!? Why can't you give me a nice luxury ship with state of the art shield deflectors and hyperspace engines, huh?! Maybe an air diffuser with Alderanian Nectar as a cherry on top? Is that really too much to ask?!'

Ever had the mystical manifestation of life energy that binds all things in the universe together pull its metaphorical nose up at you?

It's a weird feeling, trust me.

"If you are quite done cussing out the Force itself, brother?" Yoda asks with a slight hint of disapprovement, having absolutely no trouble reading the expressions on my face or the small turbulences in the Force.

He never did improve of the informal (and sometimes bickering) relationship I had to the Force, being far more rigid and old-fashioned himself.

Seeing my dejected nod, he gives a firm one in return, before walking past me. As he steps closer, he clasps my shoulder, and the earlier levity is gone and replaced by a complete seriousness, which cause me to subconsciously stand up taller as Yoda fixes me with a hard look.

"Bring her home, Yondu."

"I will." I immediately respond.

For a moment, we match gazes, allowing the Force to convey what words cannot express, and then the intense pressure is gone and he simply gives a nod and starts shuffling away, towards the turbolifts.

I look on as he goes, the chaos of the hangar smoothly parting in front of him and welling up again in his wake, without any of the organics and droids seemingly even noticing, merely smoothly and fluidly changing course and walking around him as he ventures forth, barely even sparing the aged Jedi a second glance.

Shaking my head, I turn back towards the sturdy looking and refurbished Barloz, squaring my shoulders as I start walking up the ramp.

"Alright then old girl. Let's see if you've still got it."

Nothing can quite prepare you for entering hyperspace. You can get used to it, certainly, but it always takes you by surprise. There's always this slight, split-second sense of disorientation, or even weightlessness, as something imperceptible just… shifts, somehow.

I have vague memories of seeing it often enough on tv's and in games, the pin pricks of stars turning into streaks of light and dazzling blue, but they never convey that slight shudder that goes through the entirety of the ship, even if it has state of the art inertia-dampeners, or the way that the air tastes and smells just slightly off, despite the fact that it's the same recycled air that you've been breathing ever since you sealed the doors.

But sapients can get used to just about everything and this was no different. Even if you couldn't stop yourself from noticing it, you quickly adapted and put it out of your mind, the same way people on ships (actual water-based ships, that is) eventually don't even notice the swaying of the deck under their feet anymore.

So that's why, after getting the all clear back from Coruscant and blasting out of real-space and onto the Braxant Run, I got up out of the captain's chair and cracked my neck as I breathed deeply a couple of times, centering myself in the here and now.

Checking over the nav computer just to be on the safe side, I confirmed that the auto pilot had everything well in hand for now, leaving me with the opportunity to explore my new ship.

As a legendary wanderer of the Galaxy I have been aboard a vast variety of different vessels, and many weren't half as well-taken care of (or cleaned for that matter) as this one was. Then again, many of those ships hadn't been mine to begin with, taken off the hands of criminals who were either dumb enough (or simply unlucky enough) to cross paths with me, to their detriment.

It isn't stealing if it's from criminals. It's… uhm, requisitioning. For the Greater Good and all that.

Still, the Berloz freighter was generally seen as the ship that carried much of the innovations that had made the later YT-series so popular with traders and smugglers alike, and in its heyday it was cherished for much the same reason, offering a large range of customizations and secret hidey-holes.

Even if it had been donated to the Jedi Order and been cleaned out from top to bottom by a legion of overzealous droids, chances were that if you looked hard enough, there was still some hidden compartment somewhere concealing something, I was sure of it.

Especially given that the Force had saddled me with it, and that this type of "old gal" ships were its favorite.

All I had to do was start looking, and with everything essential already set to automatic, that's just what I did.

Leaving the cockpit, I entered a rectangular hallway, with the galley to my left and the 'fresher to my right and further down the four guest cabins (two per side), followed by the captain's quarters on the right and the first mate's on the left, all clustered around a central common room about 12 by 6 meters large.

I first went to scour all of the bedrooms, but while I did find several removable panels (most of them under the beds, a classic, if novice, move), I didn't stumble across any "loot". The same went for the common room: while I did find that one of the cabinets had a double back wall, all I found there was dust and some depleted tibanna gas canisters, leaked empty over the years.

Disgruntled, but not discouraged, I made my way further down the length of the ship towards the back end (the aft, perhaps? I never bothered learning all the proper naval terms for ships as I usually ended up crashing them only a few weeks after they had found themselves in my possession).

Exiting the corridor into the wide storage area dividing the residential area from the cargo bay, I began my search with renewed vigor, but the earlier trend continued as all my sleuthing only turned up some dirty magazines roughly thirty years or so old.

Not particularly of any use, not only due to my age, species and profession as a Jedi, but also because it seemed to be targeted towards Vuvrians, which weren't exactly the lookers of the galaxy.

Quite the opposite, actually, though I'd never say it to their face.

Never, ever, try to hold a staring contest with a Vuvrians. Not only will you lose horribly, you will feel severely creeped out during the entirety of it, and if you're a halfway decent person, you'll be feeling bad about that for a couple days as well on top of that.

Back to my little treasure hunting however, it seems I should give the cleaner droids of the Jedi Temple more credit as they had done an admirable job cleaning out the ships' many cubby holes, but still I pressed on, entering into the enormous cargo bay, my Force sense tingling with anticipation.

I was close to discovering something important, I could feel it.

The cargo bay itself was mostly empty, save for a few large containers filled with some bare essentials, such as rations, additional oxygen tanks and even a crate containing a couple of blaster rifles and ammo packs. As such, it didn't take me long to go over the majority of the hold with everything cleaned out and in clear view, and the same had probably been true for the droids as well as this time even the secret hidey holes had been thoroughly scrubbed.

I glanced around the hold in slight confusion, a hand coming up to lightly trace the long scar left by a Mandalorian's vibroknife some 300 years ago, somewhat of a nervous tick of mine when I was deep in thought.

I was certain that what I sought should be in the cargo hold: the Force basically just outright said so to my face.

But then why couldn't I find anything?

Stumped by this apparent dilemma, I let my back fall against the elevator that sat in the middle of the bay which led to the upper ramps (which I had also checked), sliding down against it until my butt hit the floor.

I remained like that, in silence, as I thought on the matter, opening myself up to the Force in the hopes that it would provide further guidance. However, after several minutes of this, a sound caught my attention.

It was a slight scraping sound, soft but intentionally so, as if something (or perhaps more likely, someone) was trying to muffle it and it came from the rafter directly above me. I completely stilled my movements, even holding my breath, my eyes fixated on the metal grating over my head.

Focused as I was, I could hear the careful footfalls of someone trying to sneak about as they moved unseen above me, the only indicator of their presence their shallow breaths. I had drawn my Force presence tight to myself, not wanting to risk revealing myself as my unseen stowaway ventured from their hiding place.

My immediate thought was that it was an agent of the Sith, hidden away on the ship and lying in wait, hoping to strike me down before my hunt of the Dark Side users had even truly begun. There were some issues with the theory (such as how they knew they had to stowaway on this particular ship and how they had evaded everyone's notice at the Temple, including an inspection from my brother himself), but the skills displayed by Maul and Palpatine meant that I couldn't dismiss it out of hand.

So, as the elevator made its way down towards the ground floor, I slowly worked myself back up on my feet, muscles tensed and coiled, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. I was on the left side of the elevator, meaning I was hidden from whoever would be stepping off in 3… 2… 1…

'NOW!'

I sprung into action, arms spread wide as I pushed off the floor using the Force, appearing as a spreading bullet intending to catch my opponent in either the lower back or the hollow of the knees, thus bringing them to the ground and eliminating their (likely) greater reach advantage, while allowing me to bring the full weight of the Force to bear.

However, mid-flight I realized what exactly the "loot" was that the Force wanted me to find, as a startled Anakin turned around with wide eyes and gaping mouth out of sheer shock as I came barreling straight towards him.

In mid-air and with such little distance between us, there isn't much I can do to change directions at this point, so all I am capable of at this point is desperately try to slow myself down so I don't accidentally squish the Chosen One against the far wall.

Bad for the future of the galaxy, that.

So, instead of a deadly missile taking down a dangerous adversary, what actually happens is an old Jedi Master and his stowaway Padawan crashing into each other like run away speeders, collapsing with an almighty 'oof!' and rolling over the cargo bay floor, coming to a stop with painful groans.

While lessened, the impact (combined with the sheer surprise) is still sufficient to disorient the both of us, and it takes a few moments for us to catch our breaths and work ourselves into a seating position.

As we finally manage that monumental feat, we simultaneously look at each other, and silence returns to the hold.

"... surprise?" Anakin tries, giving me a wobbly grin, and all I can bring up as a feasible response is to fall back to the floor with a groan and throw an arm over my eyes.

Most likely fearing punishment of some kind, Anakin had quietly sat as I tried (and eventually succeeded) to gather myself, standing up from the floor and leading the boy towards the front of the ship.

Ordering him to take a seat in the lounging area, I went to the small kitchenette in order to make myself some calming tea as I tried to think of how I was going to handle this. Preparing the soothing drink didn't take much time and before long I was seated opposite the young boy, warm mug held between my hands as I looked at him.

Anakin didn't look anywhere but at the tip of his shoes, his entire posture defensive as he hung his head, the very picture of misery.

Sensing that this was part of a more serious underlying matter, I realized that I needed to break through this defensive wall he had thrown up and truly connect with the child in order to fix whatever was wrong. However, when I got off my chair so as to approach him, my unease grew as I saw that he hadn't even so much as glanced in my direction, which was unusual for the alert and hyperactive child as he normally couldn't stop himself from immediately reacting to his surroundings even if he tried.

"Anakin? What is the matter my boy?" I ask in a soft voice, and seeing him hunch his shoulders immediately fans my worry and causes my heart to ache.

It's like watching a kicked puppy lick its wounds or something.

When he doesn't respond and still won't look in my direction, I step closer, reaching slightly up (by the Force, why do humans grow up to be so tall so fast!) to clasp his shoulder, pitching my voice to be as warm and comforting as I can make it as I push out my Force presence and through it my worry and care for him as well.

"Anakin. Please, talk to me. What is it?"

For several long moments, he remains silent and I can see that his eyes become teary, though he stubbornly refuses to cry as he clenches his jaw. Allowing him to find his centre, I patiently wait, though I do not draw away, and eventually the child speaks up in a small, fragile voice.

"What did I do wrong?"

"Anakin, I know that Master Jocasta looked scary when she got worked up like that, but please don't think that she hates you-"

"No, not the statue thing. I meant… with you. Was there a test or something? Did I fail? Wasn't I strong enough, or smart enough?"

My eyes widen in surprise and my other hand comes up to gently force Anakin's chin so that he is finally looking at me, allowing him to see my bewilderment.

"A test? Whatever do you mean? What's this all about?"

He briefly hesitates, but my near presence, both physical and in the Force give him the confidence to continue.

"When we first got to the Temple… After Master Jin was done showing me around he showed me to where the other younglings and Padawans live. Said I should go and try to make friends. I did. Most of 'em were nice, I guess. It's just…"

He trails off, so in order to keep him talking, to keep any kind of conversation going, I try to fill in the gaps, which isn't that hard to do.

"It's something they said, isn't it? Someone said something, which has caused you to doubt yourself? To doubt me? And when I revealed that I would leave, you couldn't help but think that maybe they were right all along?" I quickly guess, seeing him give a hesitant nod.

Somewhat encouraged, he elaborates, his voice regaining a bit of its usual strength.

"They said… They said that I was supposed to be the Chosen One or something? So I'm supposed to be like, someone super important or something, they didn't really explain it. I don't think they knew, but they acted like they did. But, so I'm this Chosen One guy and, uhh, that's why you picked me up, and why Master Jin was showing me around an' stuff, 'cause normally I should be too old to be picked up as a Padawan or something. But then they started to ask if maybe I wasn't, or if I was sick or perhaps broken or something, and that's why you would leave me there? They said… they said that you were probably gonna go look for a better apprentice. Go and try to find the real Chosen One. 'S what they said, at least." He trails off in a soft mumble.

"Oh, Anakin." I softly exclaim in a sad tone.

"I'm plenty strong though! I'll show you! I know you said it's gonna be dangerous, but… but I'll do my best! You don't have to find another Chosen One, I swear! I can help you!" Anakin immediately fires back, fueled in equal measure by desperation and determination and all the while I can't stop mentally kicking myself.

I had forgotten how cruel children can be, even unintentional. Even if they are Jedi in training and probably hadn't even meant to hurt Anakin's feelings, but were merely trying to emulate their Masters in thinking "logically".

I was so used to dealing with other Masters in their own rights, had gotten so used to the respect that they treated me with, that I had completely forgotten that the Temple is also populated by those who haven't even heard of me (yet) and who hadn't gotten the memo as nobody thought to include them in these matters.

And now I was dealing with a child who, over the course of mere days, had been told that he was the Chosen One, only to then be doubted on the truth of that claim and then have it all brought to a head by being "abandoned", apparently validating those doubts.

How to diffuse this?

Well, start at the beginning and begin with the truth.

"Anakin. Listen very carefully. I will explain more about who and what the Chosen One is, and how it relates to you and I'll try to explain in more detail why I didn't think it was a good idea to take you with me on this journey. But, first and foremost, there is a truth that you must learn. It is absolutely vital and you must never forget it, understood?" I ask, my voice dead serious and my brow furrowed.

Anakin hastily wipes his arm over his teared up eyes before giving me rapid nods, settling down in anticipation as the tension builds.

"You Anakin Skywalker… are my student." I finish calmly, and I feel a flare of amusement as Anakin keeps on listening with an attentive expression, which slowly morphs into a confused one when he realizes I'm finished speaking already.

Before the confusion can become too great, I elaborate.

"You are my student, Anakin. That's a special bond, one which lasts forever. Now I have the rank of Master and you the rank of Padawan, so that may seem self-evident to you at first, but this is a type of relationship that endures even once you have obtained the rank of Master yourself. Just look at Count Dooku if you want proof: he rules a planet now and has his own fledgling order of Force Users and he is still my student and I still care for him deeply. No matter how far apart we may be, no matter what disagreements we may have, no matter what happens… that is the truth you must always remember, Anakin. You are my student, and I will cherish you as such until the end of my days."

The silence following my little speech is heavy and I politely pretend not to notice as Anakin tries to get his sniffling under control, instead turning back towards my tea and taking gentle sips until the youth has recomposed himself.

"Uhm… thanks, Master. And the rest. The whole… Chosen One thing."

"Ah yes. I'm afraid I must apologize, Anakin. I had forgotten to account for the burdens you would carry when I decided to return to the Coruscant Temple. Due to my past, due to who I am and who I am related to, you will be subjected to a level of scrutiny that is… unusual, for common Padawans. However, what further complicates this is the idea of the Chosen One. From what you've told me, you don't actually know the story about him, do you?"

Seeing Anakin's hesitant shake of the head, I let out a deep hum, before continuing.

"As you may know, some Jedi are capable of Foresight, giving them visions of the future. I myself am quite renowned for my strength in this particular gift and for how I've chosen to use it. Many ages ago, one of the Jedi had a vision of the far future and foretold that an extremely powerful Force User would rise up to destroy the Sith and return balance to the Force. Thus, the Legend of the Chosen One was begun and passed on through the Jedi Order for many generations. Over a thousand years ago, the Sith were thought destroyed and the Legend faded, though it was occasionally debated as to who the likely candidate had been to fulfill the role of the Chosen One. As I have always claimed and now has been confirmed however, the Sith still exists, and as such, the Legend of the Chosen One has yet to be fulfilled." I explain, watching Anakin with keen eyes in order to gauge how much of that he actually caught.

In my many centuries spent teaching, I've often found that people of all ages, species and backgrounds tend to pick up more than they are usually given credit for (or even they give themselves credit for) and with none is this more apparent than with children. Whenever I needed to explain something to Anakin, or indeed to any of my Padawan in the past, I would never "dumb it down" for them, instead speaking to them as an equal. If in that case things were unclear, I would go over the parts that they hadn't quite gotten the hang of but at an easier level, again and again until they understood all of the material.

While Anakin's strength would always be his… well, his (phenomenal) strength, he certainly wasn't a slouch in the intellect department either, and just like now, I was pleased to see that he didn't require any additional explaining in order to understand what I was trying to teach him.

"Fulfilled… by me." he slowly says.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." I reply easily, smiling when I see his surprised look.

"Anakin. The chance that you are indeed the Chosen One… it is very great. In fact, I and many others on the Council, believe that you are in fact the Force User of Legend. A connection to the Force like yours has not been seen in millenia, and I suspect you will only continue to grow stronger as you mature. But that does not mean you have to be the Chosen One."

"Wait. I don't get it: I'm the Chosen One but I don't have to be the Chosen One? How does that even work?"

Briefly I trace the scare crossing my scalp again, trying to figure out how to explain the concept of determinism in a universe which has the Force to a living lynch pin of destiny itself.

"Well… there are people who believe in destiny. They think that there is some great, unknowable design in the scheme of things, a history that stretches beyond into the future, a tale that is already written. Since the tale is already written, it also describes what the people in it are doing, and so if you believe in destiny, you believe you have to act in a certain way, because that's the way the story will go. Many Jedi believe in destiny."

Anakin briefly struggles with the idea, but the future-story analogy helps and he gives a nod of understanding.

"But you don't?"

"No, I don't, which may be an odd thing for a Jedi to say. Then again, I've been told I'm a very odd Jedi, so I suppose it all works out. I am a follower of the Living Force: that means that I believe that the Force exists in all living things, meaning that the Force is surrounding me at all times, connecting me to all that lives and breathes as a part of a larger whole. However, in contrast to the school of the Unifying Force philosophy, which my brother follows, I believe that what we see, hear, feel in the here and now matters. It is in the present that all beings live, so it is in the present that we must act."

Seeing Anakin's furrowed brow as he tries to keep up, I smile and dial it down a bit.

"Don't worry Anakin, we'll revisit the different aspects of the Force and it's different philosophies in the future. For now, all that you need to know is that I believe that the Force may have a plan, but that plan, even though it may try to outline our futures, is nevertheless shaped by how we act in the here and now. You are the Chosen One, right here, right now. Your future may be to destroy the Sith and restore balance to the Force, and yes, we will discuss exactly what can be understood under "balance", that is a piece of destiny you can count on." I end mock-sternly, wagging a clawed finger at the boy, who can't help but grin in response which in turn broadens the smile on my face.

"But that is only a possibility. That is the future, which isn't here yet. Here, now, you are the Chosen One. What you choose to be, that is up to you. And what it is that you choose, will eventually determine who you will become. And if you choose to become a mechanic, or a teacher, or a pilot, then those are your choices. The Force will always be with you, Anakin, it will pay closer attention to you than anyone else in the galaxy. But it cannot make decisions for you. Your life may never be completely normal, or turn out how you envisioned it, but always remember that it is your life. You get to live it, not some ancient prophecy."

By now, the last of my tea has gotten cold and I can see that Anakin begins to struggle with the sheer amount of information I've unloaded on him, right on the heels of the emotional rollercoaster he has been experiencing these past few days, so I decide to wrap things up.

I drain the last of my tea, but as I do, Anakin asks me a question which takes me off guard.

"So... you wouldn't mind?"

"Wouldn't mind what, my boy?"

Briefly the child worries the hem of his large shirt between his fingers as he bites his lips, before he manages to continue.

"You wouldn't mind if… if I didn't become a strong Jedi? Grow up to be a hero?"

Smiling, I step closer to him, placing my gnarled hand over his small ones.

"Anakin, I would never ask of you to become a great Jedi."

His head shoots up in surprise, his eyes as wide as they will go and I elaborate with a smile.

"No, all I ask is that you grow up to be a good man. A man who cherishes his loved ones, who is kind to strangers and who does not abide evil. If you manage to do that, than I will be more than happy."

A load seems to have lifted off the child's shoulders as he sits up straighter in his chair with a relieved smile, and I chuckle as I put away my mug in the sink. Turning back towards the boy, I push out my Force Presence, my expression sterner as the mood turns serious. Anakin responds to the shift immediately, focusing intently on me as he sits up even further.

"Now then, the final explanation. Why did I decide to leave you with Master Jin in the Jedi Temple? I've told you that I thought this trip was far too dangerous to take you along, but I didn't go into details as to why. Perhaps that was my mistake: by being too vague, I didn't convey the threat properly enough. I did so however, because I didn't wish to unnecessarily frighten you or disturb you. Given that you are here now, it's clear though that I'll need to elaborate further on just what exactly the Sith are capable of. Or, more specifically, what Darth Plagueis is capable of."

Anakin leans slightly forwards in naive anticipation: he's a child, all this talk of dangerous enemies and evil powers isn't really scary to him, merely exciting. He only felt Maul very briefly and distantly when we eluded the assassin on Tatooine and he felt perfectly safe at the time in the company of three Jedi and a Queen's guard. He had come closer to the corrupted Zabrak on Naboo, but that memory was overshadowed by the exhilaration of flying that starfighter so shortly after the encounter.

I would have to impress upon him just how different of a monster my current target was.

"I think I've told you about this before in passing, but the Sith observe something known as the Rule of Two, which was installed by a Sith called Bane a very long time ago. The Rule states that the Sith order, once vast with many followers, may never have more than two members: a Master and an Apprentice. The Master seeks out a worthy heir, and trains them to the best of their ability, until the Apprentice is strong enough to kill their teacher and take the title of Master for themselves. Then they in turn begin searching for the one who will eventually kill them and so on. I've been fighting them for centuries and came close to ending this cycle once or twice, but they have always managed to endure in one way or another. The last set of Master and Apprentice I faced before our adventure on Tatooine and Naboo, were called Darth Tenebrous and Lord Plagueis."

"Oh, I know this! You killed Tenbr… Teben… you killed the Darth one, right? But he was, like super famous or something, so a lotta people got mad at you for killing him, even though he was an evil Sith."

"The truth was slightly more… complex, than that, but in essence, yes. I slew Tenebrous in personal combat, but it wasn't easy by any stretch of the imagination and there were several points during the fight that I thought for sure that I would die. But the Force was with me that day instead of him and eventually I was the one to walk away from the confrontation. However, during the chaos of the fight, his apprentice, Plagueis, managed to run away and hide. With his Master gone, Plagueis followed the Rule of Two and declared himself Master, which meant he should start looking for an Apprentice of his own. But, there was a complication."

"Really? What was it?" Anakin asks, now sitting on the edge of his seat.

"There was another who called had claimed the title of Darth. A rival to his position. He was a Bith, like Tenebrous before him, and though it was never proven, I strongly suspect he was Tenebrous' son. Plagueis knew that he couldn't continue the Rule of Two as the Master if someone else also laid claim to the title of Darth and so he tracked down his rival, who was called Venamis, and confronted him. Venamis was strong in the force, capable of summoning lightning and even of flight, but Plagueis' knowledge of the Dark Arts ran deeper, his ambitions greater and his power, when fully unleashed, eclipsed even those of his nemesis."

"Wow. What happened next?" Anakin asks, an excited gleam in his eye, since to him, this is something taken straight out of the action novels he reads, or the shows that he watches.

He's about to learn what makes Sith different (and so, so much more dangerous) than his Saturday morning cartoon villains.

"Plagueis killed Venamis, of course."

"...oh."

But at that, I lean forwards, pushing out my Force presence until the air in the room begins to feel heavy and I can see Anakin's eyes widen and hear his heartbeat quicken.

"But this wasn't enough for Plagueis. For you see, Plagueis possessed the ultimate ambition: he wished to use the Dark Side to gain immortality. And since immortality is the art of not dying, what better test subject than someone who you have just killed, who you feel enough hatred for that calling upon the Dark Side becomes child's play even? And so Plagueis' took the corpse of his slain nemesis, and dragged it back to his base. And there he preformed unholy experiments. He inscribed upon Venamis mangled body the foul runes of Sith Alchemy, used drugs and technology to mend what had been broken and infused the corrupting strength of the Dark Side into his enemy… and Venamis opened his eyes again, called back from death itself. But Plagueis is both a perfectionist and sadist, and he could hardly call it research if he did only the one experiment. So he destroyed Venamis, and began anew. Deep in his hidden base, the Dark Side howled, the dead screamed… and Venamis opened his eyes again. And again. And again. For years, he spent each living day in torment and agony, going mad with the knowledge that, in Plageuis' hands, not even begging for death would lead to a brutal, swift mercy. For Plageuis had learned how to expand his reach further than any Sith before him, so that now his vile claws reached even beyond the veil of death itself: nowhere was safe anymore. That is how I found Venamis, Anakin. A gift, from Darth Plagueis to me. A wild bantha chase, tracking down state of the art medical supplies, surgical droids and experimental drugs led me to a dark pit, in the underbelly of a city which I will not name on a planet best left forgotten. There I found Plageuis' hated nemesis, on an operation table, holding his own heart in his hands. Holding it out towards me, trying to beg me to destroy it, to send him into death's embrace for the final time. He would've cried, but Plagueis' had had his droids cut off Vanamis' face. He would've begged, but Plagueis' had had his throat and chest splayed open and his lungs removed. To this day, it is the most horrifying scene I have ever stumbled across in nearly a millennium of wandering the breath of the galaxy, and one that will haunt me until the day that I die. And now, a fellow Jedi and someone close to my heart, has been his captive for months at least, enduring who knows what, and I have a mere child as a student. No, I would keep a dozen star systems between you and anything Plagueis has so much as touched, Anakin. In truth, I would've never told you this story and instead taken it to my grave, but you must know the danger he presents. Do you understand now?"

I feel absolutely horrible, not only because of the vivid memories that came to the forefront of my mind when I recounted the tale, but seeing Anakin's ashen face and sickened expression… it reminds me of myself, when I followed Plageuis' trail of breadcrumbs to his little "present".

"Do you understand now, Anakin?" I press again, and the boy is startled, before looking back at me with wide eyes.

"I understand." he says softly giving a shaky nod.

"Good. That's good." I respond, before approaching him, climbing up on the seat next to his and laying one of my hands on top of his white-knuckled fist.

"Now then. Before, you asked me if you failed some kind of test, so let me be clear with you right now: if I want to test you on something, I will tell you that I want you to perform something specific, or recount something I've taught you. None of that hidden-lesson, the-truth-was-inside-you-all-along crap, I promise you that, alright?" I ask, intentionally keeping my tone as light as possible to dispel the dark atmosphere from earlier.

It works, somewhat at least, as Anakin gives me a small smile in response.

"So, with that being said, here's a lesson. Considering what we have talked about, what you have learned today, I want you to make a decision. The last few that I have made didn't properly take your struggles into account, so I think it's only fair for you to make this important one now. Reflect on what we've learned, and then answer me this: do we turn the ship around, or do we keep going?"

"What?" he asks in a shocked voice, wide eyes turned towards me.

"Do we continue or go back? It's up to you." I reply calmly.

"But… the whole Plague thing!"

"Yes. Plagueis is a grave danger. But, I will not send you away from my side ever again unless you agree to it. Your safety and continued good health are my greatest concerns, Anakin, and that includes your mental state. If I leave you behind everytime I decide to fight something dangerous, then that makes me an unsuitable teacher for you. It should be my responsibility to keep you safe at all times, even when you place yourself in unsafe environments out of a desire to aid me. So yes, while I don't want you anywhere near monsters like Plagueis, I won't leave you behind on a distant planet ever again. I will find a way to keep you safe from harm, even on missions such as these. But, again, this is your decision."

Anakin bites his lip as he struggles with the choice for a long time, clearly doing his best to consider it from as many angles as he can think of, trying to incorporate the lessons I've given him into his thought process.

After about ten minutes or more, he comes to his decision, giving a firm nod and turning towards me with determined eyes.

"We go save your friend."

"Why?" I ask neutrally, indicating that he should show his thought process.

It's how I usually quiz him on things and he knows that this is the part that I think is the most important during our lessons: even if he got the answer right, if the way he arrived to that answer was wrong (say, by simple guessing) then it still wouldn't count.

As such, he's prepared, immediately launching into an explanation.

"I get what you said about not wanting me along. And to be honest, I don't really wanna come along anymore. I mean, I still wanna help! It's just, I don't really wanna, you know 'prove that I'm strong enough' anymore. I don't think I wanna face that Plague guy before I'm big and strong and have got, like, a hundred lightsabers! And tanks! And my own battledroids! And-"

"Ahem. Anakin."

"Oh, right. So yeah, definitely don't wanna fight that guy. But I do wanna help. I wanna be like you said: a good man. That means I gotta help you save your friend, so I can help with the ship! You know how good I am with a hydrospanner, I bet there's plenty of stuff that I can do from here! Also… also, I've been thinking about what you said Plague did to that other Venom guy? I've seen the flight schedule when I sneaked aboard while you and your brother were talking weird. Where we are now on the route, if we turn back to Coruscant… you'll lose days, at least. I don't want your friend to be in the hands of that Plague guy for even more days because of a stupid mistake that I made. That's not fair." He softly finishes, waiting for my judgement call.

"And that Anakin…" I say in a stern voice, and I can see him slump somewhat in disappointment as he readies himself for a tirade.

"... shows you have the makings of a good man already." I say instead with a warm smile, clapping him firmly on the shoulder, laughing silently at his surprised expression.

Hopping off the chair, I make my way out of the common area, calling over my shoulder as I go.

"C'mon then! I'll show you to your room. Also, the ship still needs a name: how would you like to come up with one for her, hmm?"

There's a short beat of silence, and then the exited pitter-patter of feet slamming hurriedly against the floor.

"Oh I've already been thinking about that! The Great Krayt Dragon! Celestial Wingmaw! TERROR OF THE SKIES-!"

"Anakin? Perhaps something a little more… realistic?"

"Oh… hmm, how about: BARBAROUS BATTLE HYDRA OF BATUU!"

"Points granted for the alliteration. Points deducted because you clearly skipped parts of your homework again: there are no Hydras on Batuu."

"Ahw man…"

As I had already claimed the captain's quarters (though given that I didn't really have many possession other than a few changes of clothes, there hadn't really been much to claim the room with, leaving it looking just as barren as before I came onboard), I installed Anakin in the First Mate's quarters, across the hall from me.

As it turns out, he had brought a duffel bag about as large as he was and had stuffed it with basic survival gear, as I had taught him: spare clothes, tailored for a range of possible environments, basic medical equipment, rations and so on.

Of course, Anakin, being only a child, had added a few "essentials" of his own, such as a large number of toys and some action hero magazines.

Somewhat more unusual was the high-quality hydrospanner and diagnostic device, as well as what seemed to be the beginnings of a verbo-brain.

Then again, Anakin was quite the tinkerer.

After helping him place his stuff in the various bins and lockers and preparing his bed, I help him settle in, before turning around and preparing to leave, ready to fall into the comfort of my own bed.

His voice, small in the darkness of the room, stops me however.

"Master?"

"Yes, my boy?"

"... is it okay if I'm scared? Just a little bit! But… you know… still scared?"

"What makes you ask that? Is is something the other Padawan said?"

"... Obi-Wan. He says Jedi don't feel fear."

"A trained Jedi can learn to free himself of fear, yes. Being brave is not merely being unafraid, Anakin. I'm unafraid to face a baby Blurrg in ritual combat, that does not make me brave, does it?"

The mental picture of me heroically staring down a teeny tiny baby Blurrg is enough to sent Anakin in a chukling fit and once he calms down a bit, I continue.

"To be brave means to be afraid… and to still push on. It is through overcoming fear that you become truly brave, and it is the mark of every single great Jedi in our Order… and something good people do on a daily basis. So yes, Anakin, it is perfectly alright to feel afraid, even if it's just a little bit. Because the Force will always be there to help you overcome it. And should there ever come a day where the Force fails you… know that I will always be there to lend a hand as well."

There is a long pause before Anakin speaks up again.

"Thanks Yondu."

"You are very welcome Anakin."

Fun Fact: Originally, George Lucas wanted Yoda to be played by a monkey with a mask instead of using a puppet.

AN: MAN, writing kids is hard! I have no idea how to keep the speech childlike, with words children would use, since I wasn't exactly a normal one so I wouldn't really know. But I also don't want to cripple it to the point that the dialogue no longer gives the information I'm trying to convey, if that makes any sense?

ALSO: Come up with cool ship names! ^^ I haven't gotten any right now :(

So, here's a weird question for ya. This story will most likely focus on the period between Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones, so the stuff that we didn't get to see in the prequels. That means this story will display the transformation of Jake Lloyd Anakin into Hayden Christensen Anakin. But as I was thinking on that, something struck me. Those would cover his teenage years. You know. The years in which the body begins…. changing. What even… what. How did that happen in the canon universe? Did Obi-Wan give The Talk? Should Yondu? Hell, do any Jedi get The Talk? I mean, deal with your emotions with whatever space magic you want, but puberty is basic biology, how does that work.

Anyway, that's the weird shit going through my brain when I skip sleep to continue writing, hope y'all like the chapter, I'm gonna crash now, ok? bYe.