"Our behavior is different. How often have you seen a headline like this?-TWO DIE ATTEMPTING RESCUE OF DROWNING CHILD. If a man gets lost in the mountains, hundreds will search and often two or three searchers are killed. But the next time somebody gets lost just as many volunteers turn out.

Poor arithmetic, but very human. It runs through all our folklore, all human religions, all our literature-a racial conviction that when one human needs rescue, others should not count the price."

― Robert A. Heinlein, Starship Troopers

(LINE BREAK)

Anakin sat cross-legged in the small chamber, trying to center himself, his training saber resting across his lap. The room was dimly lit, with only the soft hum of Coruscant's distant traffic filtering through the walls of the Temple. He closed his eyes, inhaling slowly, willing himself to focus, to let go of everything swirling in his mind.

Focus on the Force, he told himself. Just the Force.

For a few moments, he felt himself slipping into that calm state, his breathing steadying, his senses expanding outward. He could feel the faint ripples of life in the Temple around him—the presence of other students, the quiet movements of the Masters, even the distant hum of droids working in the hangar. It was peaceful, serene.

But just as he was beginning to feel the Force more fully, something shifted in his mind, and an image flashed—uninvited and vivid.

It was him, sitting on Kane's shoulders, laughing as his brother walked through the crowded market, holding a dripping cone of what Kane had insisted on calling "ice cream." Anakin had been so excited, the cold sweetness melting on his tongue as Kane made jokes, teasing him for getting it all over his face. He could almost hear Kane's voice, playful and warm, echoing in his ears.

The memory hit him hard, like a punch to the gut, ripping him from the meditative state. His eyes snapped open, and his heart raced. The calm he had felt moments before was shattered, replaced by a flood of emotions—anger, frustration, and longing.

Anakin scowled, clenching his fists in irritation. He wasn't supposed to let things like that distract him. He needed to be better, stronger. Memories like those weren't going to help him now.

But as quickly as the anger came, it faded. He knew Kane wouldn't want him to fail, wouldn't want him to get lost in his emotions like this. Kane would tell him to push through, to focus. Anakin took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. He wasn't a little kid anymore. He had to do better.

Because Kane would want me to do well, he reminded himself.

With a final exhale, Anakin closed his eyes again, this time with renewed determination. He let the memory of Kane fade into the background, focusing instead on the steady rhythm of his breath, the pulse of the Force around him. He needed to do this. For himself. For Kane.

(LINE BREAK)

"Pick it up!" The Sakiyan snarled, kicking my sword to me as I was on my hands and knees. The alien's green skin gleamed like a dark metal underneath the sun, and he flourished his sword once again. He was faster than anyone I'd ever fought, strong as the strongest ones, and it was too much for me to overtake.

I could barely stand. My legs felt like they were made of stone, heavy and unwilling to move. Every breath I took burned, like fire in my lungs, and my vision blurred at the edges. Sweat poured down my face, mixing with the blood splattered across my skin. The sun was a relentless furnace overhead, cooking me alive. My body was done. It was telling me to quit, to give in, to just lie down and let the sand swallow me whole.

Maybe this is it, I thought, staring at the blood littering the arena floor. It didn't matter anymore. The previous fighters were all dead, and I was about to join them. The crowd was roaring, the sound a distant rumble in my ears. But I could barely hear it over the pounding of my heart, the sound of my own gasping breaths.

Up in the top box, I saw the silhouette of some important guest, probably a friend of the Hutt that owned me. This whole spectacle was for their entertainment. A grand show where I was supposed to die. Just another body added to the pile, another nameless fighter who'd been used up and tossed aside.

I almost laughed at the thought, but it came out as a wheeze. My knees wobbled as I tried and failed to get up, and for a second, I thought I was going to hit the dirt. This was it. My end. The grand finale.

But then... Anakin.

The thought of him hit me out of nowhere, like a punch to the gut. My kid brother. His face, his laugh. Him sitting on my shoulders. I could hear his voice in my head, that infectious laugh echoing through my skull.

He wouldn't want me to die. Not like this. Not here.

But the exhaustion was too deep, dragging me down like quicksand. My body screamed for rest. For release.

No. I wouldn't let it end here.

I had to fight. For him. For Anakin.

I reached for the bond. The severed one that had hardly begun to scar over and still burned whenever I reached out with the Force. The psychic wound that still throbbed in the back of my mind, a constant reminder of what I had lost. Of what had been ripped away. Normally, I avoided it-too much pain, too raw, too personal. But now, I needed it.

I grabbed at it, gripping the scar in my mind like it was a lifeline. It was like sticking my hand into molten iron. The pain was immediate and overwhelming, tearing through my head, making me want to scream. But I held on. I needed this pain.

My rage surged up, hot and furious, like a dam breaking inside me. I stabbed at the wound with it, driving my fury deep into my own mind. The agony was unbearable, but it was what I needed. It was fuel. It drove away the exhaustion, the weakness, the doubt. It filled me with fire, with power. My muscles stopped screaming. My mind stopped wavering. All that was left was the fight.

I felt the Force surge through me, more tangible than ever before, like it was crawling under my skin, burning in my veins. My vision narrowed, everything around me fading except for the Sakiyan in front of me.

I was done playing their game. Done being a spectacle.

I picked up the sword, gripping it so hard my knuckles went white. My opponent nodded respectfully, shifting his stance and blade into a high guard.

I roared, the sound tearing from my throat like an animal, and I rushed forward, blade flashing in my hand. The crowd's cheers became a distant hum. The only thing that mattered was the blood, the sand, and the fight.

I would survive this.

Because there was no other option.

(LINE BREAK)

9 months after explosion:

Serra's training saber moved swiftly, cutting through the air in quick, sharp arcs. Anakin blocked the first strike of the newest sequence of moves, their sabers hissing as they connected. His footing faltered for just a second, but he recovered, stepping back as she pressed forward. Her dark hair was tied back, her green eyes sharp with focus, every strike deliberate and controlled.

Anakin had been considered suitable enough to spar occasionally with the year ahead, and had surprised most of the instructors by being better than most of them. So, he had been paired with Serra Keto, the undoubtedly best duellist of her year.

The other initiates watched with a mixture of excitement and awe, the two of them putting on quite the show and Ferus, with a few initiates in their year, was watching as well.

Anakin deflected Serra's next blow, the speed of it sending a jolt through him. He grimaced, shifting his weight as she circled him, looking for an opening. She didn't give him much room to breathe, her strikes coming fast and with purpose. Anakin barely managed to keep up, his movements less refined, but he wasn't giving in.

Serra ducked low, sweeping her saber toward his legs. Anakin jumped back just in time, countering with a quick slash toward her midsection. She sidestepped easily, her saber flashing toward his shoulder. He blocked, the impact nearly knocking his saber from his grip.

"Not bad," Serra said, her voice light and airy as she was smiling throughout the exchange, and she disengaged and reset her stance.

Anakin exhaled sharply, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand from the hours of sparring leading up to this current bout. He nodded slightly, refocusing as she advanced again. Their blades clashed in a rapid exchange of blows, each movement faster than the last. Serra was clearly the more experienced of the two, but Anakin held his ground, managing to match her pace for longer than he had in their previous spars.

Serra spun on her heel, bringing her saber down toward Anakin's left side. He barely blocked in time, his arms straining under the speed he was needing to meet. She followed up with a quick series of strikes, her form seamless to Anakin's eyes, and though he blocked each one, he could feel himself tiring.

She stepped back, eyeing him carefully. Then, without warning, she feinted left. Anakin moved to block, but Serra was already lunging to his right, tapping his wrist with the tip of her lightsaber. His weapon dropped from his hand as he hissed from the hot training blade smacking his hand, and the weapon fell clattering across the floor.

Before he could react, Serra's lightsaber hovered just inches from his chest, her stance relaxed, but ready.

"Yield?" she asked, her eyes gleaming.

Anakin let out a breath, nodding. "Yeah, I yield."

Serra deactivated her saber and stepped back, a grin spreading across her face. "You almost had me there for a second."

"Almost," Anakin echoed, rubbing his wrist. He couldn't help but smile too, despite the loss.

Serra laughed. "You're getting better. Keep that up, and I might actually have to start worrying."

Anakin gave a subdued laugh. "We'll see about that."

The sound of sabers deactivating filled the training hall as the instructor stepped forward, her voice carrying through the room with calm authority.

"That's enough for now," she said, glancing at the initiates gathered around. "You've all made good progress today, but it's time for lunch. Head to the mess hall. We'll pick this up again afterward."

The initiates nodded and began to file out, the usual chatter of post-sparring conversation already filling the air. Serra, still smiling from her spar with Anakin, turned to him. "You're really good, Anakin. I might actually have to watch my back soon."

Anakin grinned, though he was still catching his breath. "Maybe one day. I'll keep you on your toes."

Before he could say more, Ferus Olin walked past, bumping deliberately into Anakin's shoulder. The impact caught him off guard for a second, but instead of reacting with frustration, Anakin laughed. He knew Ferus well enough to recognize the playful intent behind the move.

"Watch it, Skywalker," Ferus joked, grinning as he reached out and wrapped an arm around Anakin's shoulder. "What's with you today? Too hungry to be careful?"

Anakin just rolled his eyes, Ferus' behavior being all too familiar so he didn't reply.

He and Ferus had clashed a bit, well, a lot actually, early on when he first arrived at the Temple. Ferus was the only one in their year that could compete with him in sparring lessons, and had been the best at meditating and not causing problems. Anakin… had not been that, but clearing the air some and him apologizing had done wonders for the two of them and they had become fast friends, with Ferus even being more casual around him lately.

They began walking toward the mess hall together, Serra trailing a few steps behind them, shaking her head in amusement. Anakin could feel the energy in the air shift as they moved. Through the Force, the atmosphere around him seemed lighter, brighter.

The conversations around him flowed easily, laughter echoing through the halls as the initiates happily talked about their spars and daily training routines. Anakin found himself laughing with them, caught up in the moment. Even though the days here had been a challenge, especially the first few months, the sense of connection with his fellow initiates now made everything feel... simpler. Calm. He felt Ferus tighten his grip on his shoulder slightly, grateful for the fleeting sense of normalcy.

(LINE BREAK)

Tadd's breath came in steady, controlled bursts as we circled each other. His movements were fluid, natural. He wasn't the best fighter I'd ever trained with, but he was one of the few that had a genuine knack for the blade. I could respect that.

"So," Tadd began, his tone light, trying to make conversation as we continued our dance. "When I get out of here, if I get out of here, first thing I'm doing is finding my family on Jabiim. What about you? Got any plans, Kane?"

I grunted, parrying his strike before stepping back. "Survive first."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "That's a given. But what then? Surely you've thought about it."

I blocked another one of his attacks and replied, "Not really."

The truth was, I wish I didn't let myself think too much about what came after, but I did. I'd been in this hellhole for so long, imagining anything else like the plans I had once held from my wealth of knowledge felt like tempting fate. But Tadd? He still held onto that hope, that spark of life that hadn't been completely snuffed out. That was something rare here. And despite myself, I didn't mind hearing him talk about it.

It ignited that spark in me, that hunger I had before everything went wrong. I knew of so many things that could tip events in my favour if I wanted to, especially if I had decided the Jedi were not worth it. With the actions I've taken, I would never be one, I could never be one. So, there were dozens of things that had not faded in my mind, for I had continuously thought of them and whispered them to myself each night like a mantra, committing them to memory just as much as I had muttered the names of all the ones I had lost in my life.

Adas. Katana Fleet. Naboo. Prophets. Museum. Events to be favoured by the big players of the future.

My hatred for slavery had only grown throughout my time here, and now I hungered for vengeance against the Hutts too. I would kill them all alongside the Banite Sith, and the galaxy could burn around me for all I cared. At the very least I could do this shithole of a galaxy a service and cleanse the spiritual AIDs that afflicted it for my sins.

And a darker thought mustered up in my mind, one that I beat back down. I did not want the galaxy to be destroyed, but if I did and had wanted death to take me as well, I would have gotten free and stolen a ship to get to Yavin IV. A certain spirit would have loved to have my body, and I knew I was powerful in the Force, and my knowledge. The only ones named that could do what I could at this age were those with training, and bore the surnames of Skywalker and Solo.

We clashed again, our blades locking for a moment. His eyes flickered with that same determined fire I saw every time we sparred. A couple of weeks ago, he had told me how he ended up in this pit—a slave raid. One of the lucky ones. Most of the people they grabbed in those things ended up dead or worse, but he survived. Told me his family had been from Jabiim, and that when he got free, he'd find them again.

"Family's still alive and whole, no losses?" I asked, swinging my blade low, forcing him to pivot to the side. "Other than you obviously."

"Yeah. Last I heard," he said, deflecting the strike and coming back at me. "Got a message through before they shipped me off-world. They should be safe there, for now."

Jabiim. I didn't know too much about the place aside from the bullet points like its reputation as a storm-covered hellhole and the undiscovered ore, but if his family was out of reach of the pirates and raiders, then maybe they had a shot. Other than the knowledge of what was going to befall the world, and the meat grinder battle that it would play host to that would result in the capture of Obi-Wan Kenobi, the deaths of several padawans, and the only Jedi survivor of that battle being…

I dismissed the thought when it got to that. The Force didn't feel warm now, it was chilly and I bit my tongue to get a flare of pain to heat it up.

We paused for a moment, both of us breathing harder now but still holding back from going all out. This wasn't a fight to the death, after all—just training.

"You really think you'll make it out of here?" I asked, bluntly. I didn't mean to crush his hopes, but I wanted to hear how he'd answer. He might actually be someone I wouldn't mind helping, especially if a few things pay off.

Tadd didn't hesitate. "I have to. For them." His voice was firm, his expression hardening. "I'm not dying here. Not in this place."

I nodded, giving a small grunt of acknowledgment. There was a quiet strength in his words, and I found myself wanting to believe him, even if I knew better than to hope for anything in this pit.

"Good luck with that," I muttered, deflecting another of his strikes. But there was no mockery in my tone. I meant it.

We continued to spar, the conversation dying down as we focused on our movements. Despite my blunt replies, I didn't hate the conversation. Tadd was easy to talk to in a way that didn't grate on my nerves, which was rare. Most people here were either terrified, savages, or already broken, but Tadd… he still had something left. Something I couldn't name exactly but could respect.

He swung again, and I countered, stepping back just enough to keep distance. His blade missed by a hair's breadth, but there was no malice in the near miss—just good, solid training. We weren't trying to kill each other, not today. Just pushing, testing limits.

"You're getting faster," I remarked, parrying his next strike.

"Thanks," he shot back, a grin tugging at his lips. "You're still a pain to fight, though. And I still don't know how a kid can be this good."

I didn't respond to that, I just kept moving. But for a moment, a small part of me was glad for the conversation. Even if I wouldn't admit it out loud, I didn't mind having someone like Tadd around.

(LINE BREAK)

The corridors of the lower levels of the Jedi Temple were cold, dimly lit, and eerily quiet, the kind of quiet that made every little sound seem amplified. Anakin led the way, his footsteps barely making a sound as he moved through the shadowy halls. Ferus, trailing just behind him, was muttering under his breath, clearly not enjoying this as much as Anakin was.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Ferus whispered, his voice laced with a mixture of annoyance and nervousness. His eyes darted around as if expecting a Jedi or worse—a Temple Guard—to appear out of nowhere and catch them.

"Shhh," Anakin hissed, glancing back at him with a slight glare. "You're going to alert somebody if you keep talking."

Ferus rolled his eyes but quieted down, clearly not thrilled about their little adventure. "This is a terrible idea, Skywalker. We're going to get caught."

Anakin's smirk only widened as he crouched down and peered around a corner, making sure the coast was clear. "Not if you stop acting like you're guilty," he teased, slipping forward into the next hallway.

Ferus huffed but followed him, clearly torn between annoyance and the curiosity that had dragged him along in the first place. "I'm just saying, sneaking down to the restricted levels isn't something they'll be happy about."

Anakin didn't reply, just waved him forward and kept moving. The air down here was different, cooler, and heavier. It almost felt like a different world compared to the upper levels of the Temple, where everything was bright, orderly, and peaceful. Down here, it felt ancient—like secrets were tucked away in every shadow, waiting for someone brave enough to uncover them.

That was exactly why Anakin had wanted to come. He wasn't satisfied with the surface-level teachings anymore. He wanted to explore, and he could just about see the look on Kane's fac-

He sobered at that thought, and he quietly continued to move forward with Ferus right behind him.

They passed by a series of old, sealed-off chambers, the heavy stone doors etched with symbols that Anakin hadn't learned about in class. He felt a pull towards them, a curious tug in the Force, but they weren't his destination tonight. He kept walking, his steps quick and silent.

"You know," Ferus muttered from behind him, "there's a reason the Masters keep this part of the Temple off-limits."

Anakin rolled his eyes. "And how are we supposed to learn anything if we only stick to the top levels?"

Ferus looked unconvinced, his brow furrowed as he glanced around the darkened corridor. "Or maybe they're just trying to keep us from doing something stupid," he shot back.

Anakin flashed him a quick grin over his shoulder. "Then why'd you come?"

Ferus sighed, clearly regretting his decision. "Because you have a way of making it sound like you actually know what you're doing."

Anakin shrugged, not denying it. "Just trust me, okay? We'll be fine."

Ferus didn't look convinced, but he stayed close, following Anakin deeper into the lower levels. The further they went, the more the weight of the Temple seemed to press down on them, as though they were delving into a place that hadn't been disturbed in years, maybe centuries.

Or at least Anakin liked to think that.

Anakin felt the excitement building in his chest, the thrill of discovery, of pushing past the boundaries set. He was sure there was something down here, and he was going to find it.

As they pressed on, the dim corridor opened up to a wide, dusty chamber. Against the far wall sat an old security console, partially covered in layers of dust and grime. Anakin's eyes lit up as he approached it, eager to see if it could still be powered on. He wiped a sleeve across the display, leaving a smear of clean glass behind.

"Seriously?" Ferus whispered, eyeing the console with doubt. "You really think that thing's going to work?"

Anakin studied the console for a moment, his fingers tracing over the edges. After a few seconds, he found a small latch on the side and tugged, popping the top plating loose with a faint snap. He lifted it carefully, revealing a tangle of wires and circuits beneath, most of which looked far older than anything he'd worked with before.

Ignoring Ferus' incredulous look, he leaned in, instinctively picking out which connections looked vital and which could be safely rerouted. He reached into his belt pouch, pulled out a thin tool, and began rewiring a few of the connections, fingers working quickly and precisely. A little adjustment here, a quick bypass there. It was like a puzzle, and Anakin's intuition guided him from one solution to the next.

Finally, he placed the cover back on and hit the activation switch. For a moment, nothing happened, and he felt Ferus shift impatiently behind him.

Then, with a faint hum, the screen flickered to life, casting an eerie glow over the chamber.

"There," Anakin muttered, more to himself than to Ferus. Lines of faded text scrolled across the screen, still decently legible in an older dialect of Aurebesh. He squinted, fingers tapping quickly as he navigated the outdated system.

Ferus leaned in, still skeptical. "So… do you actually know what you're doing?"

"Not really," Anakin replied, a smirk tugging at his lips as he scanned for anything that looked like door controls. "But I know enough."

He soon found a command that seemed to match what he was looking for and inputted it, holding his breath as the console processed the sequence.

With a loud clang, the nearby doors groaned and shuddered, thick layers of dust spilling down as they slowly began to grind open.

"There we go," Anakin murmured, satisfaction in his tone.

Ferus let out a breath, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're insane, you know that?"

Anakin shot him a grin, eyes gleaming with excitement. "Come on, we're just getting started."

Anakin stepped through the opened heavy doors, his eyes sweeping across the room as he took it in. It was large and empty, the kind of space that might have once been used for sparring or training. The floor was bare, the walls plain and unadorned, and the whole room was cloaked in a thick layer of dust, untouched for who knew how long. The silence was almost oppressive, the kind that made every small sound feel amplified.

He moved farther in, scanning the area in the dim light cast by the open doorway. His footsteps stirred the dust, which rose in wisps around his ankles as he walked, inspecting each corner with an almost expectant look, hoping to find… something. But each corner he approached was the same—bare, silent, undisturbed. There was no hidden weapon rack, no storage alcove, not even a scrap of fabric or a training mark on the floor to suggest anyone had been here in years.

As he straightened from the last corner, a flicker of disappointment crossed his face. The thrill that had filled him on the way down began to fade. There was nothing here, no relics or secrets, just an empty, forgotten space.

Anakin turned around, brushing off his hands and giving the room one last look before sighing. "Maybe we should just head back," he said, sounding almost disappointed.

Ferus let out a breath of relief, his shoulders relaxing. "Finally, some sense," he muttered, crossing his arms. "Honestly, I'm just glad you didn't try to drag us into one of the Masters' quarters or something."

Anakin froze mid-step, eyes widening just a bit as the thought sunk in. Masters' quarters… he hadn't even considered that. But now, the idea bloomed in his mind, and a slow grin spread across his face, the glint of mischief unmistakable.

Ferus caught the look and instantly went pale, his own eyes widening in horror. "No. No, no, no," he stammered, practically pleading. "Anakin, don't be stupid. This is already bad enough."

Anakin shrugged, the grin not fading in the slightest. "You're the one who brought it up, Ferus."

"Yeah, because I thought you'd have some restraint!" Ferus shot back, exasperation and worry mingling in his voice.

"Restraint?" Anakin asked, grinning at his far less adventurous friend. "I don't know what that is."

(LINE BREAK)

Anakin stood in front of Master Yoda's quarters, eyes practically shining with excitement as he took in the closed door. He knew Yoda would be out at this hour, taking one of his evening strolls around the Temple. They had the perfect window to explore.

Ferus, on the other hand, looked anything but thrilled. He muttered to himself in a near-whisper, his voice laced with dread. "This is it. We're going to be expelled. I'll be remembered as a Dark Jedi… or worse, a Sith…"

Anakin rolled his eyes, snickering. "Oh, come on, Ferus. Don't be so dramatic. No one's getting expelled."

"Easy for you to say," Ferus grumbled, though he stayed put.

Anakin barely contained his laughter as he turned to the console beside the door. With a confident press, he activated it, feeling a rush of excitement as the door slid open with a quiet hiss.

Anakin slipped through the doorway with a grin, glancing back at Ferus, who hovered at the threshold, clearly uncertain. "Well?" Anakin said, his voice a low dare. "Coming in, or too scared?"

Ferus groaned, but after a long-suffering sigh, he stepped inside, shaking his head. "If we get caught, I'm blaming you."

Anakin just grinned wider and took in the room. It was surprisingly sparse, almost spartan. The chamber was hexagonal, with shaded windows framed by smooth pillars that stretched toward the ceiling, casting soft shadows along the walls. The only furnishings were a simple organiform table, a low bed, and three meditation pads scattered across the floor, each marked with a crest that was the same one that had been engraved on the door. Anakin stared at it for a moment, but it didn't seem familiar.

Anakin looked around some more and only felt the thrill of the fact that he was in the quarters and had been able to sneak in, but it was not an otherwise special experience. But he entered and got away with it right after sneaking around and entering the previous room that nobody else had for a long time.

Satisfied with his little victory, Anakin gave the room one last look. It wasn't much, but he had managed to sneak in, and that was good enough. He turned around, nudging Ferus with a smirk. "Alright, we can head back. Exploration's done for the night."

Ferus practically sighed with relief, nodding as they moved toward the door. "Thank the Force."

As the door slid open, however, both boys froze. There, standing just outside, was Master Yoda, leaning lightly on his cane. His wise old eyes looked up at them, and a hint of amusement played at the corners of his mouth.

"Ah," Yoda said, his voice gentle but unmistakably sharp, "lost, are we, in the Temple?"

Ferus managed a barely audible squeak. "M-Master Yoda…"

Anakin felt a surge of fear—not just his own, but Ferus', clear and overwhelming through the Force. His heart pounded as he tried to think of an excuse, but before he could open his mouth, Yoda spoke again.

"Or," Yoda continued, his ears perking slightly as he looked at them with a knowing glint, "wish for advice late at night, do you?"

Anakin swallowed, his mind racing. Somehow, he got the sense that Master Yoda already knew exactly why they were here.

Yoda let out a soft, rumbling laugh that caught Anakin off guard. It was an odd sound, almost unfamiliar, and it made the situation feel even stranger. Anakin blinked, feeling himself flush with embarrassment.

"Come in, come in," Yoda invited, shuffling past them back into his quarters. "Or… invited yourselves in, you have?"

Anakin's cheeks grew warmer, and he stifled the urge to apologize outright, simply nodding and following Yoda back inside. Ferus shot him a glare, but it wasn't like he'd forced Ferus to come along.

Yoda led them into the room, and Anakin found himself back among the sparse furnishings.

"A seat, you may have." Yoda gestured towards one of the meditation pads with his cane, sitting down on one himself. "Tales of your adventures in the Temple, I wish to hear."

Anakin and Ferus exchanged a quick glance before Anakin cleared his throat. "We were… exploring," he admitted, attempting a casual tone. "We went down to the lower levels and looked around in some old rooms."

Ferus nodded, though he looked like he'd rather disappear entirely. "We didn't touch anything, Master Yoda," he quickly added, as if that might somehow lessen their trespass.

Yoda hummed lightly, tapping his cane's handle with a clawed finger in a slow rhythm. Then, to their surprise, he let out another soft laugh. "Hmm… remember, I do, when Master Windu explored the Temple, young and bold he was."

Anakin blinked, unable to picture it. Master Windu? Exploring forbidden areas of the Temple? The same Master Windu who was famously stern and rarely cracked a smile? He could hardly believe it.

"Master Windu… did that?" Anakin asked, struggling to hide his disbelief.

Yoda's eyes twinkled with quiet amusement as he nodded. "A challenge, it was, to keep him from places he should not be."

Anakin glanced at Ferus, who looked just as stunned as he felt. Somehow, the idea that even Master Windu had once been young and adventurous made him feel a little less… exposed.

Yoda leaned back on his meditation pad, his eyes glinting with a nostalgic warmth that softened his gaze further. He began recounting tales of Master Windu's youth, and the mischievous adventures he'd embarked on before he became the strict and disciplined Jedi they knew today. There were stories of Windu's relentless curiosity leading him into parts of the Temple that were sealed off or heavily restricted. Yoda described one occasion where Windu had managed to bypass security just to examine an old artifact, and the reprimand he'd received after being found out.

The stories flowed effortlessly, and soon Yoda was moving on to other familiar Council members, Jedi Masters whom he himself had trained. He shared a few incidents about Master Ki-Adi-Mundi's rebellious streak as a Padawan, and how he'd often taken it upon himself to question the practicality of certain training exercises, much to the frustration of his instructors. Yoda chuckled softly as he mentioned how Master Plo Koon had once tried to modify his lightsaber without permission, leading to a series of malfunctions during practice that had both alarmed and entertained his fellow students.

As Yoda spoke, Anakin and Ferus found themselves utterly captivated, their earlier anxiety melting away in the warmth of his memories. It was strange, but heartening, for them to hear that the most revered members of the Jedi Council had once been just like them. As initiates, they had been just as curious, bold, and, at times, a bit too adventurous.

After a moment, Yoda's voice softened, the stories winding down. He looked between the two young Jedi, his gaze as steady and knowing as ever, though a hint of amusement continue to linger in his eyes.

"Return to your quarters, you must," he said, the gentle authority in his tone leaving no room for protest. "Sleep well, and prepared for your classes tomorrow, you should be."

Anakin and Ferus both nodded, the initial thrill of their adventure replaced with a sleepy contentment. Rising to his feet, Anakin stifled a yawn, while Ferus quietly bowed his head in gratitude.

"Thank you, Master Yoda," Ferus murmured, and Anakin echoed him, a little of his own embarrassment remaining as he avoided Yoda's gaze.

With a final nod, Yoda watched them as they headed for the door, a soft chuckle following them. "Remember," he added, his voice tinged with a knowing humor, "more secrets in the Temple there are, than you realize. Seek only the ones that bring wisdom."

As they stepped out into the dimly lit corridor, Ferus sighed in relief, casting Anakin a glance of barely-contained exasperation. Anakin, grinning sheepishly, shrugged. After tonight, he knew he'd have even more stories of his own to tell someday.

Maybe he could tell them to Master Yoda with an invitation next time.

Anakin and Ferus walked back through the quiet halls of the Temple, the thrill of their little outing being secondary to the sense of unspoken relief. Ferus kept glancing over, shaking his head as if still processing that they'd gotten away with exploring Yoda's quarters. Anakin just kept smiling, hands in his pockets, content with the night's success and the stories they'd heard from the Grandmaster of the Order and the strongest Jedi alive.

Once they reached their quarters, Anakin dropped onto his cot, the cool fabric welcoming after the long night. As he stared at the ceiling, memories of Yoda's tales played through his mind and filled him with a feeling of satisfaction. With a small grin, he closed his eyes, already looking forward to the next adventure.

(LINE BREAK)

Sweat and sand was caked to my arms and face from the spill I took earlier in the fight, the few knocks and minor wounds I had stinging from the gritty sand and salt of my sweat getting into them. But it didn't impede me in the slightest as I slashed at the cut aimed at my shoulder by the reptilian shit that was standing in front of me, my leg bracing and my Force augmented strength keeping me at equal strength to the Trandoshan. He then backed away, shifting to his human partner, a lean man with sandy blond hair, so he could cover him as Tadd nearly tagged him again like he had earlier in the thigh.

Glancing at Tadd, I nodded to him and the two of us lunged forward.

I tightened my two hand grip on my sword, moving in sync with Tadd as we pushed the Trandoshan and his human partner back across the arena grounds. The crowd continued to cheer at the competition and I stabbed towards the walking pair of boots' chest, a sideswipe from his own sword knocking it aside and I sidestepped his downward swing. I felt it whistle past me as I pressed him again, every step deliberate, each strike driving my opponent closer to losing his footing. Finally, I spotted the opening I'd been waiting for-my blade hooked under his wrist after I feinted a stab at his face, and his sword clattered to the ground.

Before I could press forward though, a sudden movement caught my eye and I felt the air shift. The opposing human's spear struck out, hard and fast, sending Tadd's weapon spiraling out of position. For a split second, I saw the next move-the strike aimed directly at Tadd.

No time to think, just act.

I threw myself in front of him, twisting as I intercepted the blade. It tore across my shoulder, sending a jolt of searing pain through my arm, but I managed to divert it, making sure it was only a deep gash rather than a killing blow against Tadd.

I staggered only a single step, breath hitching as I felt the warmth of blood spreading over my arm. But I grit my teeth, steadying myself. This fight wasn't over yet.

Tadd recovered from the shock quickly and stabbed forward over my right shoulder, catching the bastard before he could get completely out of the way and I saw the spearhead of Tadd's durasteel tipped weapon sheer across the mouth and left cheek of the man. He screamed, the sound mangled by his cheek being cut completely through to his teeth and blood spewed from his mouth.

As he staggered back, I lunged forward, driving my blade halfway into his sternum, the tip of my blade meeting resistance as it struck his spine from the front and hit bone. I jerked the blade out with thick, hot blood spurting from the wound as he stumbled to the ground and after perhaps 3 seconds at most passing since I had disarmed my enemy, I turned to the Trandoshan, who was one of the ones I had known and learned to hate over the last couple weeks. He had his weapon back in hand.

His eyes flicked between mine and Tadd's, then onto the wound on my shoulder. He lunged forward, aiming for me as the most injured and I stepped back, twitching my wrist after letting go of my blade with my left hand and knocking his sword away from my stomach.

Tadd's stab was avoided as the Trandoshan shifted out of the way of the stab, then ducked under a twirling swing aimed at his temple.

I watched as the Trandoshan weaved out of the way of the attacks that Tadd had greater range for thanks to his spear. The reptilian barely held off the attacks, taking a hit across his ribs that had him snarling.

I took that moment to shift left and circle around partly to flank him while Tadd kept pressing his defense. With the Force coursing through me, I bounded out of the way and then planted my left leg into the sand, my teeth clenched as I grinned and snarled in equal measure, before shooting forward at the Trandoshan right as he knocked aside another spear stab.

My right hand gripped my blade with my left gripping the hilt as I half sworded and threw myself into his guard, catching his attack at the left side of my chest and I shoved up to push his sword away from me, and leaving him open to the kick I smashed into his right knee. I visibly heard the crunch of cartilage and soft tissue snapping and felt the joint bend backwards underneath my heel.

A screech that could never be replicated with human vocal cords was torn from the throat of the scaled alien and he collapsed backwards. His back hit the ground and Tadd exploited the opportunity, sharpened durasteel tearing into the Trandoshan's throat without mercy. It let out a few gurgling gasps as it flailed weakly, blood spurting from its maw as the last breath released sounded more like a wet keen, but Tadd just growled under his breath and pulled it out before plunging it back into his throat again.

After that final stab, the Trandoshan went still and was completely limp. A moment later, I sensed the faint chilly emptiness of a life ending. But I didn't care, better him than Tadd and me.

The adrenaline that had fueled us began to ebb away as the Trandoshan's lifeless body stayed slumped to the ground. The roar of the crowd around the arena became a distant hum, and for the first time since the fight started, and like many other fights I'd been in, I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.

Tadd let out a short laugh, clapping me on my right shoulder. "We did it!" he said, his voice tinged with the same rush I still felt coursing through my veins. But the force of his hand jostled my left arm, and pain shot up from the gash in my shoulder. I hissed through my teeth, pulling away slightly.

"Ah, sorry," Tadd muttered, his grin fading as he glanced at the blood still seeping through the torn fabric of my shirt. "Didn't think."

I shook my head, forcing a smile despite the pain to play it off. "It's fine."

The crowd cheered as we dropped our weapons onto the arena floor and made our way toward the exit. The fight was over, but the weight of what had happened still lingered in Tadd's presence and I knew he wanted to say something. Tadd glanced at me, his expression turning more serious. "Thanks, Kane. You didn't have to take that hit, but… you saved my life."

I nodded, my jaw tightening. "I protect my friends," I said simply, though the words felt heavier than usual. My mind drifted to my past, to that last moment in my old life, when I'd made the ultimate sacrifice for someone else. The memory was even more sharp and vivid from how it bled through my mind, constantly reinforced by how much the Force elevated baser emotions and convictions.

And I knew, deep down, I'd do it again. Without hesitation.

We pushed through the gate leading into the waiting area, the dimly lit chamber already buzzing with activity. Other gladiators milled about, preparing for their own matches or recovering from earlier bouts. The typical clink of armor and the murmured conversation filled the air, and kept its stark contrast to the roaring chaos of the arena we'd just left behind.

A few of the fighters we knew gave subtle nods of acknowledgment as we passed. One or two even murmured quiet words of approval, their faces betraying no more emotion than necessary. Here, respect from the others was earned in blood and scars, and Tadd and I had just added to our tally.

Before I could settle, a guard approached, his expression flat. "Hey," he said, gesturing toward a side corridor. "You're coming with me. That shoulder needs more than a quick patch."

I met Tadd's glance, and he gave a small, reassuring nod. "Go," he said, already sinking onto one of the benches as another fighter tossed him a roll of bandages. "I'll be here. Just need a few scratches taken care of."

I followed the guard, my steps heavy as the dull ache in my shoulder set in. The hum of the waiting room faded behind me, soon to be replaced by the sterile quiet of the treatment area ahead.

(LINE BREAK)

The mess hall was a mess of noise that included boots scraping, trays clanging, and voices bouncing off the durasteel walls while the guards sat outside the room and watched us eat. I sat at a corner table with Tadd and a couple of others that I deemed sufferable, spooning lukewarm stew into my mouth with one hand while skimming through my holonovel with the other. The table was cheap durasteel that I saw faint rust developing on, but it wasn't too bad and it was at least better than the wooden park tables at a shelter house.

As was typical among sapients that lived and breathed fighting and courting death in a regular basis, it was a bit wild and was laced with an underlying chaos that included loud boasting, occasional death threats, and drinking competitions between the resident top fighter, Bartra, a Zabrack, and two humans as we had been supplied with some cheap alcohol after a good turnout. It was almost comforting in a strange way. It reminded me of the mess hall back at base—back when my unit would come together after missions, laughing, drinking, and occasionally throwing punches during some parties that got out of hand.

I glanced up, catching sight of a group nearby laughing loudly, one guy pretending to shove another off a bench. For a second, it felt like home. But it wasn't. I shook the thought off and turned back to the holonovel. Better to focus on the here and now.

"You going to eat that or keep reading?" The green Rodian, Bolo, asked, eying my stew. He was the only Rodian I tolerated because he didn't try to steal any of my stuff when I first got here, unlike the one who lost an eye after I pried it out for trying to take the holonovel I was currently reading. The beating for damaging property was worth it either way, because I was not parting with this holonovel.

"Keep your filthy paws away from my food." I replied, not having any heat in the statement. "I eat and read on my own time."

Bolo just scoffed, his antenna on his head twitching. "You're a kid, not like you need that much food."

"This kid still beats you into the ground in training." I pointed out, drawing a laugh from Tadd. "And I'm no kid, kids don't enjoy killing."

"Rodian children hunt for fun." Bolo deadpanned. "We are a proud race of hunters and are some of the best, and killing is a given."

"Killing people, I should say." I clarified, before adding. "Assuming some sapients can be called people that is."

That had Tadd, Bolo, Crix the human that was a few years older than Tadd, and Jense, another human, looking at me. I hadn't shared a whole lot of my background, but they evidently sensed a bit of wiggle room to get some information out of me.

"Care to share?" Tadd asked.

I didn't say for a moment, remaining quiet as I thought about sharing a detail or two. After about 5 seconds of thinking, I shrugged.

"Killed a man that had 'bought' the services of a girl that looked younger than me, nearly killed his friend too."

Bolo was the first one to speak. "Well, can't really fault you for that. A good first kill at least."

That had me laughing and I closed the holonovel while shooting him a grin that was all teeth as I took another spoonful of stew and ate it.

"They weren't the first ones." Was all I said, and I refused to elaborate further. Suddenly, I stiffened and started to look to my left.

I didn't sense the cup until it was already in the air. The ping in the Force was sharp and deliberate, and I barely had time to process it before the hollow thunk of the cup hit square against my shoulder. The impact wasn't anything serious—light enough to not spill my stew but just heavy enough to annoy me.

"Oi, Runt!" Bartra's voice cut through the general din, loud and mocking. I turned in my seat, slowly, catching the Zabrak's cocky smirk from across the room. He stood across from the two humans he'd been drinking with earlier, both of whom looked halfway to unconscious already. Bartra crossed his arms and kept the crooked grin, his horns along his head poking through his hair that he had done up in dreadlocks. "These two aren't worth a damn, maybe you'd like a go. You're probably the most dangerous human here, right?" He emphasized that by gesturing to the keg that was tapped on the table where we were getting served our food by the droid.

The other humans cursed at him for that, a few choice words sounding like slurs that I didn't recognize at that. He was obviously joking since I was the only child here, at least physically, and was seen as a particularly intelligent rabid animal by some. In fairness, they weren't entirely wrong.

I sighed, setting my spoon down deliberately and leaning back against the bench. "Bartra, that your attempt at a compliment or do you just want me drunk to make wooing me easier? I'm not up for sharing your bed unlike that one." I gestured towards Bartra's, I wouldn't quite say lover, he was more like a pet given that the human was maybe 5'5 and could have been anywhere from 15 to 21 standards years. Very soft face and personality, but the Zabrack was protective of him so nobody messed with him.

That earned a few scattered laughs from nearby tables, and even Tadd let out a low chuckle beside me. Bartra looked insulted by the insinuation, baring his teeth. The humour died instantly from everybody else once they saw it genuinely pissed him off. "Just shut up and drink your milk."

I rolled my shoulders, the ache from the cut still being present from it being the injured arm from the Trandoshan's earlier hit a couple days ago. I stood up, with my plastic cup in hand, and walked to the keg. The Droid, surprisingly, said nothing as the 12 year old with matted hair that went to his sternum filled up a cup full of alcohol, made direct eye contact with the Zabrack that made the mocking comment, and then chugged it down without stopping.

I shivered as I downed the very last of it, managing to not start coughing as it burned going down.

That. Was. Disgusting. Might've stuffed a Rodian inside that keg to dissolve levels of disgusting.

Taking a moment to make sure my less than ironclad stomach didn't make a fool of me, I forced down the sudden wave of low level nausea before straightening up and shooting a challenging look at Bartra.

Rather than get pissed, Bartra let out a deep laugh and turned to look at the two plastered humans half collapsed forward onto the table.

"Kid's got a stronger stomach than you two stoopa." He mocked the two he had out drunk, before reaching and grabbing ahold of the, well, pet of his and sitting him on his lap as he sat back down and gave me a nod of respect at somehow, at least to him, managing to chug the shit beer down. I just looked away from the sight and curled my lip in disgust after I had gotten back to my own table. Call me whatever you wanted, but no level of shaming or pejoratives could change my disgust response at a man having such… tastes.

At least he didn't like them young young, otherwise I would have killed him.

Once I was back at my table, I went back to eating the stew, which had gotten straight up cold now. But it was still better than the veggie omelette.

Tadd chose that moment to speak once again, right as I reopened the holonovel and spooned some more stew into my mouth.

"So, that obviously wasn't your first time drinking."

"Wasn't my first time challenging a Zabrack either." I shrugged, swallowing the stew and eating some more. "Except Bartra might even kill me in a fair fight."

There was honestly no dispute about the last part. I was dangerous and could kill most adults via the training I had and the Force, but Bartra is a different beast entirely. He was the kind that might even be able to kill a Padawan in a fight.

And then turned out everything else, content with reading once again and eating.

(END CHAPTER)

If anybody is interested in TES fics, I'd strongly recommend Of Lightning and Blood by my good friend MandTeKad, who is also Co-author for this and pretty much all my unpublished fics. You can find it on FFN and QQ.

(My respect and condolences to all the service members who had to be subjected to eating MREs that tasted like chicken dumplings freshly dropped from a pit bull's asshole. Some of that stuff is nasty as fuck.)

Raging.