Anakin woke up an hour before dawn.
It was strange. Anakin usually woke up just as the sun rose, letting him have a little time to himself before his master got up and started to order him around. He mulled over this for a minute, until the dream registered.
I have to write this down.
He scrambled around for a notebook and pencil - he still liked paper, as digi-books could be hacked - and started to write furiously, almost as if he would forget the secrets now imprinted on his mind if he didn't write them down fast enough. He wrote page after page of precious knowledge. Incredible, valuable things were written down then, things that would change the course of history. He wrote until his wrist hurt, and then wrote some more. There was a desperateness in his actions, a hurriedness that would not have been apparent in the words themselves - Anakin had the neatest handwriting of anyone he knew.
Finally he was done. He looked over the pages he had written, and nodded. That would do. It wasn't all - he doubted he could write it all in a lifetime - but it was enough.
For now.
Then he reread it and realized something. I have to show my friends this. Otherwise, it would all be for nought. The Council had been teaching lies, and this was the truth to counter them. It would be almost a sin to hide it. He knew it, deep inside him.
He flung on some actual clothes and unscrewed the screws holding the vent cover in place. Anakin wasn't sure, but he thought that the builders of the Jedi Temple had made the vents tall-and strong-enough for anyone to walk comfortably in them on purpose. He easily clambered up into the vent, clutching his notebook and pencil, and used the Force to levitate the cover back on and the screws back in their places. Then he walked-slowly, so as to be as quiet as possible-through the vents to Kit Fisto's room.
The Padawan scribbled (okay, not scribbled, since he had very neat handwriting) a message on a ripped-out page from his notebook. The message read: Come up to the vents. We need to talk. Then he prodded Kit's mind gently until he stirred and, eventually, woke up.
"Anakin?" the Nautolan whispered. Then he spotted the paper on his blanket and quickly unfolded and read it. Then he looked up and nodded.
"I'm coming. Move away from the entrance." The Padawan moved back a couple of steps - far enough that Kit wouldn't fall on top of him, but close enough to help if he needed it. But he didn't need it. Kit came up the same way Anakin had, jumping up into the vents as easy as breathing. "What do you need?" he asked, seeing the almost-obsessed glint in his eye.
"I need you to come with me, and for you to never, ever tell this when the Council can hear."
That was a weird request, even from Anakin. "What's wrong?"
"I'll tell you when we get to a safe place. Come on!" He took off running, and Kit reluctantly followed him through the vents, wondering what in the galaxy his friend was up to this time.
Finally they reached an intersection of two vents that Anakin judged to be safe. Kit sat against a corner, and Anakin sat across from him, a grave expression on his face.
"Read this." The human handed his friend a notebook with old-fashioned flimsi. Kit opened it up and started reading, puzzled at what he read. Eventually he handed it back.
"I don't understand any of this."
Anakin looked over his writing and realized his error - he had used his own shortcuts. No wonder Kit couldn't understand it.
"Uh, here, I'll explain it as you go." He handed the Jedi Knight his notebook again. "This symbol here means balance, and this one here means…"