Anakin loved finishing a race. He especially enjoyed longer courses, but win or lose, he loved completing a circuit. Admittedly, he liked it better when he won, but just crossing a finish line gave him a unique sense of wholeness that he simply couldn't achieve any other way. That, and his problems never seemed quite so daunting when he returned to his life after forgetting everything in the adrenalin-pumping focus a race required.

In his youth, he'd always been able to lose himself in the moment. If he'd come across a situation he'd felt needed and deserved his attention (a fight, a good race, an investigation, etc.), he could 'let go', for all intents and purposes and just get away—even if only mentally—for a while. That had become much harder as he'd gotten older, and especially since he'd turned to the Dark Side. He couldn't help but be immensely grateful that the tendency had made a come back since his return to the Light. Pushing himself and his machinery to the limit, he could pretend for a moment that his confrontation with Tru Veld hadn't rattled him. He could pretend that he didn't have the fate of the entire universe riding on his shoulders far more heavily than it ever had before. He could pretend that he wasn't scared or upset or angry or in pain...everything a Jedi wasn't—everything a Sith was. He could pretend that he wasn't a horrible failure at everything and that his inner struggle between dark and light didn't exist.

It was a welcome escape.

Now, as he rounded yet another corner in the underground course, he couldn't help the exhilarated grin that spread across his face. He didn't smile often, and when he did it would usually be a slight up-turn of the corners of his mouth. It felt strange but very, very good to let his delight show so openly again.

He blew across the finish line amidst cheers (and boos) of the small group of onlookers and reveled in the familiar rush and sense of accomplishment. Behind him, the other racers finished the course and began to slow down as well. He gradually brought the old, worn vehicle he'd been racing to a stop, just sitting there with his eyes closed for several seconds as he treasured in the stillness that came after a good race and committed the experience to memory.

He'd won, again. He didn't always, but he'd gained quite the reputation according to his manager. In his first life, he would have absolutely loved the attention and recognition that brought him. To some extent, he still did, in all honesty, but any sort of positive attention was something he'd had to get used to all over again.

When he'd first begun to race in this timeline, he'd been reluctant to acknowledge his wins publicly or even to the somewhat contained crowds that frequented these types of events. It was a small risk, but he didn't like taking the chance that news of his external activities might reach the Council, or worse yet, Palpatine, especially recently. The possibility that Sidious would be more observant of him had skyrocketed, even if (for some reason that Anakin still could not figure out) he hadn't so much as even glanced in 'Initiate Skywalker's' direction since Naboo.

The problem was, he couldn't stop, despite the fact that the earnings from his racing had really begun to build up, as had the cache of good memories he'd started to consciously store away. He wanted several that had nothing negative attached to them as he'd found it easier to chase the anger and hatred away if he had something positive to focus on. Racing definitely qualified. It had been the one thing his turn to the Dark Side had been unable to taint.

No, he couldn't stop, because it wasn't enough. He still needed more money to free the slaves he'd promised, let alone ensure that he could put his other plans into action.

"And ya come through again, kid," the harsh voice of his manager broke through his thoughts. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes and stared up at the slug-like creature known only as 'Bleersh' that had become his sponsor/manager/handler. At first Anakin had been rather wary of this strange creature. Between his beady, yellow eyes and his gray skin that shone (and stank) with bodily excretions, the being didn't exactly come off as trustworthy. However, he'd been honest and hard-working whenever Anakin was involved (strange when one realized he worked in the black-market racing circuit), so the young Jedi put up with him and even found recently that he'd begun to enjoy the other's company when he wasn't in smelling distance.

"Of course," Anakin replied, popping his helmet off, but leaving the hood that obscured the bottom half of his face and his hair from any prying eyes or incriminating cameras.

"Findin' you was the best thing that ever happened to me," Bleersh continued as Anakin climbed out of the seat and dropped to the ground.

"Hm," he grunted with a nod to his manager, acknowledging the compliment.

"Quiet too," the slug-like being muttered as he handed a card to Anakin. "Usual drill. Get the money out ASAP and don't deposit the full amount anywhere."

"Hm," Anakin nodded again, taking the card happily and putting it in one of his pockets before zipping it in securely.

"Not goin' to stick around, I see," Bleersh commented, raising the skin over his eye that should have otherwise had an eyebrow.

Anakin shrugged. "I must return before my guardian notices I'm gone. All the paperwork is done, so..."

The alien nodded, but then his expression sobered somewhat. "Need an escort home?"

Shoving his hands in his jacket's pockets, the former Sith glanced up at his manager with a frown. That was strange. He'd never offered to have someone escort Anakin before. He also seemed a bit nervous. Was he expecting some trouble? Well, even if he was, Anakin doubted it was anything he couldn't handle so he finally shook his head.

Bleersh frowned and glanced around the shop that served as 'home base' for this circuit—at the other racers, their mechanics, managers and the various creatures that gravitated towards events like this. He looked for a moment as if he wanted to say something, but thought better of it at Anakin's dark expression.

"Right. Follow me." Bleersh led Anakin through the maze of discarded parts and broken-down vehicles all blanketed by layers of grease, grime and dust. They didn't have 'offices' in places like this, but each manager had laid claim to different areas in 'The Shop', which was more or less a large, abandoned warehouse of sorts with a few larger areas and storage rooms mashed unceremoniously together. Most of the managers left each other alone and while it wasn't unheard of for racers to be targeted, most of the beings that attended this particular circuit usually minded their own business as well. Still, it would be nothing short of galactically stupid to actually trust anyone down here more than was strictly necessary. As such, each area had their own set of entrances and exits that no one else knew about (supposedly—Anakin seriously doubted 'information' hadn't leaked at some point).

Bleersh stopped in front of Anakin's usual exit—an old door hidden well behind a pile of rubble that no one had bothered to clear out—and turned, pivoting on legs that by all laws of physics the initiate knew shouldn't work at all, let alone support the being's weight.

"You be careful, you hear? Don't want you ending up face down in a low-level run-off, now do we?" In other words, he wanted his star driver to stick around and continue to make him money. It was also probably a subtle warning. Perhaps he'd heard rumors that someone wanted to take his star pupil out but hadn't substantiated it.

"I'll be fine," Anakin assured him in a monotone voice as he slipped out of the gouge in the wall and began to climb up the ladder on the other side.

"I'll hold you to that," Bleersh said after him.

He reached the platform at the top of the ladder and glanced across the gap between the building and the platform on the other edge that would allow him to continue his trek up to the Temple. It wouldn't be the first time he'd made the jump, but as missing would probably kill him (seeing as the gap went all the way down to the planet's surface), he tended to pay a little attention—that and the fact that his leg, while having scabbed over from the blaster bolt he'd received when he'd jumped off of the bridge, still tended to throb painfully if he moved it too much or in the wrong way. And he couldn't exactly get it treated by the Temple healers as they would wonder exactly how he'd gotten shot. The worst part about the whole thing had been the fact that he'd been so tired when he'd returned to his quarters that night that he'd forgotten to treat the wound then. It had become somewhat infected by the time he'd had a chance to look at it the next evening and while he was sure he was in no major danger, it was taking all that much longer to heal now.

Sighing, Anakin brought himself back to the present and readied to jump over the gap. No human, let alone a child, without the Force could have made the leap. Fortunately, for someone with his knowledge and skill, it wasn't a challenging jump. He'd actually accomplished many far more difficult tasks in his experiences. Thankfully, with age his 'act now, think later' approach had definitely mellowed. Unless he got into a sticky situation, as his encounter with Palpatine's bounty hunters had proven, he tended to be more cautious.

Calling on the Force, he ignored the pang that shot through his leg as he leapt across the gap and landed easily on the other side. Minutes later he had climbed to a walk way that would lead him to a working lift. It had only taken him a few short jumps and climbs, something he could normally do in his sleep. Still, before he could lever himself up and onto the walk, a nudge in the Force made him pause. Something was wrong.

At first he was worried that Sidious' bounty hunters had found him somehow and he had to force down a sudden surge of panic. Then he looked down and realized that the warning came from several unfamiliar beings who were trying to copy (rather clumsily) his ascent. He was being followed. Great. Still he seemed to be far enough ahead of the people (not a humans, he saw, judging from the strange proportions and super-human abilities) that it shouldn't be a problem.

So why had he gotten a warning? Closing his eyes, he reached for the Force and felt around him. After a moment, he felt several more beings clustered near the elevator on the walk above him. They weren't friendly.

He frowned at the annoyance. It wasn't as if he couldn't handle them, but the fact that they knew his route home... They had to know he was a Jedi if they'd followed him before. Or at least they strongly suspected. He'd have to find a new way into and out of the Temple. That wouldn't be too much of a problem (he had many he could choose from) but it bothered him that he'd given away a potential weakness into the Jedi Temple, especially to characters like these.

Still, he doubted he'd have to worry about it too much as he tended to be extremely paranoid in making sure no one else could enter through the paths he chose, but he made a mental note to double check everything when he got back.

Also, he didn't really want to have a confrontation here, and he didn't want to confirm that he was a Jedi. It would be one of his worst-case scenarios realized and it would jeopardize his entire operation. If they knew he was a Jedi, they just had to send in evidence of his nightly escapades to force him to stop. Even if it were from a source of ill repute the Council would investigate it and Anakin did not want them to find out about his somewhat illicit funds. Plus the underground circuits might not let a proven Force User race. His guess was they were there to force him into using his abilities so they could get the evidence necessary to kick him out of the races.

He felt anger rise in his chest and quickly repressed it. They were lucky he'd denounced his Dark Side habits. Even now he could imagine several ways of showing them how 'misguided' they were to sick their noses into his business. Unfortunately, they would never know just how lucky they were.

So, what could he do now? He searched around him for an option and spotted it not four meters away and less than half a meter below him. It was a window. A large, closed window, but he could fix that. Closing his eyes again, he reached for the Force and felt for the latches on the panel. In seconds, it was open and waiting for him. He reached down to the standard grappling wire on his belt as he glanced down at the beings following him. They had maybe two more jumps before they got to his ladder, and they were either gloating or simply herding him along as they seemed to be taking their time.

All the better for him.

He managed to lodge his grappling hook around a pipe not too far away and took a deep breath. Then he jumped.

Using the Force as a guide, he managed to swing directly through the window and hit the release. He landed in the relative darkness of the room on the other side. It was a large room, probably another abandoned warehouse (those seemed to be rather plentiful in this area), but he couldn't see anything. He couldn't really feel anything either so it was undoubtedly safer than his previous options.

He'd managed to land on a stack of duroplast crates that didn't seem to be in any danger of falling. After a moment of scrutinizing his new surroundings, he reached out with the Force and closed the window again. From what he could see, the warehouse was by no means abandoned, which probably meant he'd tripped an alarm or something. It would be prudent to leave immediately, but if he was lucky, his pursuers wouldn't have any idea as to where he'd gone.

Thankful that he still had on the mask covering his nose, mouth and hair, he began to search the darkened area for an exit. Traversing the crates in the dark was no real problem (he'd been trained to fight in the dark after all) and thankfully, he ran into little else as he slipped out of the warehouse through a side entrance.

Half an hour later, he was sneaking back into the Temple. After double checking that everything was in place and just as strong as ever, he went back up to his room, wondering how his apparent new notoriety in the underground racing world would affect his plans.

xXx

Anakin sat awkwardly in the simple, padded chair across from Master Xio. He'd been shown in not minutes before and had since been sitting silently, waiting for the Master to stop studying him and say something. His uneasiness wasn't helping his already strained patience either and he'd started to sort through his recent racing memories to keep himself calm.

Finally she smiled at him. "Well, Anakin, why don't we start with the classes you're taking here at the Temple. Tell me about them."

It was a safe conversation and they both knew it. He knew the theory behind the words too. It was a common tactic for interrogation, actually; get the subject talking about something mundane and it would be easier to let something of importance slip. Make them comfortable; throw them off their guard. Apparently the tactic was useful in counseling as well.

Anakin had come into this knowing he'd have to be careful. He was walking a fine line and could easily slip if he didn't weigh his words carefully. And he did not want to slip. The idea of explaining everything—to anyone—seemed...well, 'overwhelming' didn't really encompass the magnitude of what he would have to admit to. In such an event, how could he start? Where would he start? The beginning? Oh, he could easily see how that would work out—trying to describe exactly how a life the Jedi would never understand eventually led him to fall the Dark Side.

Yet again, it struck him as to just how useless this entire farce was. Still, he would make the best of the circumstances. If Palpatine had taught him anything useful, it would have to be that he needed to face situations head on and not sulk or stew on it as he would have done in his original youth. Yes escaping the world every now and then could be useful, but one should avoid making a habit of it. Running and hiding from problems only made them worse in the long run.

"Of course, Master," he said with a stiff nod. He may not be comfortable, but this was something he could talk about. "My first class of the week is the advanced mathmatics class I was placed in..."* He continued in that vein for several minutes, explaining most of his classes in detail until he reached those he'd 'graduated' from.

"I've tested out of all the history courses and many of the more politically based classes. I'm not sure why they didn't let me before." He paused, allowing a slight frown onto his face as his comment caught up with him and mentally kicked himself for letting his guard down. He knew better than that! Then he glanced warily at his counselor, wondering exactly what Master Xio would make of that comment.

"People, even Jedi, rarely think to do anything dealing with circumstances they don't expect," the older Jedi responded, not unkindly. At least she was treating him like an adult. "It is a fallacy that I believe only experience can cure. As I doubt we will have a case similar to yours any time soon, and we haven't dealt with anything even remotely similar to it in decades if not centuries, I would ask that you forgive us for that oversight." She said it with such a soft, earnest smile that Anakin couldn't help but see it from her point of view. Eventually he nodded, surprised to find that he really could let that one, small detail go. It was strange as he'd never really had an easy time forgiving anyone for even the smallest slights in his previous life.

"Now why don't we talk about the classes you're having a harder time with." Anakin couldn't help but shrink back just slightly at that. He didn't want to talk about his Force Techniques class. At all. Ever.

"I'd rather talk about my other classes," he'd said as firmly as he could manage.

Master Xio simply looked at him and raised a skeptical eyebrow, although she never lost her smile. He couldn't help but think that she was just calling him on his rather poor evasion although it held no malice at all whatsoever. He wanted her expression to be sardonic, like Obi-wan's had been. Then he'd feel justified in being resentful of it.

"I know," she said after a few moments. "And I won't force the subject, but can I make my own guesses? You don't have to confirm or deny them if you don't wish to."

No, he didn't want her to guess. She'd undoubtedly be wrong and have a completely incorrect idea about him. Then he remembered that he didn't particularly care and forced himself to shrug nonchalantly.

If Master Xio noticed his stiffness, she didn't comment on it. "I think you're having a problem because of your previous training. Probably the darker training," she said, her voice calm and soft.

Anakin still stiffened and felt his jaw clench. "They told you?" he asked, his voice low but dangerous. He'd figured that his secret wouldn't last long with the stupid Council keeping it, but he still couldn't help the stab of betrayal and anger he felt. Every now and then he hated being right.

Master Xio blinked at him for a moment before shaking her head slowly. "No one told me anything, Anakin," she said. "It's obvious that you had previous training to be this far ahead in your classes, especially considering your background." Anakin couldn't help a slight wince. Was it really that obvious? But he couldn't start holding back even more now as it would raise more questions than before. He couldn't really afford to hold back anymore either, especially in his saber classes. He needed to get stronger in them. Still...

"Then how did you know about the Dark Side training?" he asked defiantly.

She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I didn't. As I told you, it was a guess. Your general attitude towards Jedi is one of trepidation and wariness. If you've had training before you came to the Temple, it couldn't have been from a Jedi or it would stand to reason that you would trust us more initially. So I guessed that your teacher must have not cared for the Jedi, and if that is the case they could have easily been a Dark Side user. I came to a simple, logical conclusion."

Anakin was torn between attempting to throw her off and trying to hide how much her rather accurate guesses had thrown him off. It reminded him a little too much of Sidious. He didn't know what to say or how to act, so he just sat there in a sort of frozen, horrified stiffness that he couldn't seem to break free from.

He was contemplating just getting up and leaving when the old woman sighed. "I hadn't expected it to be completely true, or at least I hadn't expected you to know your training had been dark."

It took more effort than he wanted to admit to open his mouth, but he wanted her to know that he wasn't just a Sith spy (because that would go over so well with the Council). "I...had two...Masters who trained me. One of them was a Jedi. The other...wasn't."

Master Xio watched him with a blank face for several seconds before shaking her head, seeming overwhelmed. "Your strength, Anakin, is astounding."

That finally jolted Anakin from his trance. Why did everyone keep saying that?! This timeline's Obi-wan had said it, This timeline's Yoda had said it, and now this woman who barely knew him... He wasn't about to correct her though. Instead he said nothing.

"You don't believe me, do you." She hadn't asked a question so Anakin didn't respond. He just sat there, staring at her hands resting peacefully on the arm rests of the comfortable chairs she'd had in her 'office' or whatever this space was. He was sure it wasn't her quarters.

Another sigh from her direction. "That's something we'll work on. For now I want you to know that I won't judge you for your past actions. I can't if I'm to help you, and I want to help you."

Of course she wanted to help him. It was her mission from the Council.

"In other words, I will not condemn you for your past. I don't care what you've done, that I can promise," she went on, her voice firm but warm. He had to admit, she was good. "Or more accurately, I care, but only so far as to how those actions are still affecting you. Whether you believe me on that account or not, it's true. You could have the worst possible past and I don't care because you're here now and you're trying to fix it. I'd like to help if you'll let me."

Yeah right. Like he was going to trust her. He hardly knew her. Besides, she was a Jedi. She belonged to and believed in this corrupt order...no. No, he couldn't bring himself to trust her, or anyone else. So he sat there, staring at nothing and refusing to meet her eyes or even acknowledge her.

"How about we stop for today? Unless you wish to stay..."

He most certainly did not. Standing up, he bowed respectfully to her and retreated as quickly as he dared.

"Anakin," her voice sounded reprimanding. He froze. "You still need to talk to the droid"

He felt his lips thin but he still didn't say anything. "I'll have D-40 come in and you can use the new memory chip on the table."

He didn't want to. He really didn't want to. But then again, it would give him a chance to take a look at the droid unsupervised... Maybe it wouldn't be so bad?

xXx

It wasn't difficult to shut the droid off. A Force nudge in the right area and voila. It surprised him how far some advancements had come in the equivalent of the next 30 years while other things almost seemed to digress. He knew several designs off the top of his head for a more efficient motivator and power source , but the actual wiring for the robotic interface was genius. It would be a crime to not explore this, and so he went to work.

Anakin couldn't decide which he found more amusing: the fact that they'd asked him not to play with or take apart the droid that would be used in his 'therapy' sessions, or the fact that they realized he had every intention of doing so. He'd never answered when they asked for his word. The sessions wouldn't be recorded by anything but the droid and, as promised, Anakin would take the 'memory chips' (not computer 'memory', but the actual recordings—the chips were basically miniature hard drives) with him when he left the session. Anything he felt he couldn't tell the mind-healers or the other Jedi he would supposedly tell the droid because apparently just 'getting it out' was a form of therapy, according to Girth.

Of course, mechanics and robotics were a bit of a relaxing hobby for him that tended to calm him down. Best of all, he figured they would eventually guess that he was indeed 'messing' with the droid, but was confident they wouldn't call him on it. Not for a while at least. It would be their attempt at garnering trust; an 'if I trust him, perhaps he'll trust me' sort of venture that would ultimately fail, but he could use it until they figured out that he was on to their methods.

Besides, he had decades of future technology almost rote embedded inside his brain. Even with some of the less effective designs that had become the norm in the future he was confident that he could wire the droid far more effectively and efficiently. He would take it as a personal challenge to find more ways to do so.

As he'd thought, when he left after his two time-block session, he was positive Master Xio did not miss the grease on his hands or the burn marks on his sleeves, but she didn't comment.

xXx

"How was that?" Hik'te asked through his heavy breathing. He'd just completed a kata he'd learned and Anakin had encouraged him to finish. He'd even helped the blue-skinned boy and given him hints and pointers. But Anakin of all people knew that that type of help could only go so far.

"Better," Anakin said with a nod. "Although your stance on the last one is throwing off your balance. You need to move your heel towards you more but your leg needs to come out further." It felt incredibly strange to have the children he counted as allies look up to him so. He'd taught 'apprentices' as a Jedi and as a Sith. Ashoka hadn't really worked out, and none of the Sith apprentices he'd taken had lasted long (with maybe the exception of Starkiller, but he couldn't really count that as a success either).

When the other children had started to ask him questions about why he was advancing so quickly in his saber arts when they weren't, he'd almost panicked. Why would they ask him questions?! Anyone he'd ever tried to teach...well, it just hadn't gone well. It had taken him a moment to calm down. Then he'd calmly and truthfully answered their questions and gone back to his practicing.

After a while, he'd gotten comfortable enough with their inquiries to point out the small mistakes he could see. He didn't go out of his way, but he knew that if he wanted to keep their allegiance, he would have to interact with them. So he did. He also wanted them to survive the upcoming years, so he pushed them when he was around to do so. He encouraged their practicing, drawing from the little experience he could remember from his mother.

It had been a strange thought that had come to him one day in meditation. Why had he been so obedient with her and not with Obi-wan? Surely it couldn't be all Sidious. Then he'd remembered how Obi-wan had treated him, not without understanding, no, his guidance had been gentle and firm, but it had also had little encouragement or congratulations. His mother, on the other hand, would often celebrate what he did when she knew he'd done the best he could. She would guide him and push him when she felt he could do better.

Hik'te could definitely do better, but he had indeed improved. Anakin was not the boy's teacher, but he could give an honest opinion and he could help them along the way.

He'd never realized cultivating allies could be so difficult. Obi-wan had always made it look so easy...

Hik'te groaned. "I'm never going to get it right," he muttered.

"Especially if you give up," Anakin found himself saying.

"What?" Hik'te asked, shooting a confused look at the other boy.

Anakin mentally kicked himself. He hadn't wanted to butt in and give advice like this. That was a 'master's' job, not a contemporary's. But, he'd opened his mouth, he would have to follow through.

"Life is a series of failures," he said simply, shutting his own lightsaber off as he watched Hik'te. "It always has been and always will be. People who succeed are people who keep trying and failing until they find a way to succeed."

Alright, life wasn't as simple as that, but that had been one thing he'd learned from Obi-wan that had stuck with him, even through his time as a Sith. He'd just gotten to a point where he had been too impatient to wait for success, whether it was himself or his subordinates. What Anakin had also noticed, although he didn't add the thought onto the end for Hik'te, was that the people who seemed to have the most success were the people who could either learn quickly from their mistakes or the people who could learn from others' mistakes. Still, there was something to be said about persistence.

Hik'te cocked his head and studied Anakin silently.

Finally he seemed to gather his wits and asked a question.

"How old are you, really?"

Anakin's brow furrowed, half in consternation, half in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You don't act like a kid. None of us think so."

The rest of their little group had opted to go down to the room of a thousand fountains about a half hour before, but Anakin and Hik'te had remained behind to finish working on their respective katas.

Anakin added a frown to his expression. "You discuss me when I am not there?" Alright, it wasn't the best thing he could say to reassert his cover as a child, but it was a valid question.

Hik'te seemed to blush at that, his blue cheeks darkening sightly. "Well, only because no one has the guts to ask you to your face."

"Except you."

"Well someone had to," Hik'te said a little sheepishly. Anakin almost had to hide a smile. Almost. Hik'te reminded Anakin a lot of himself. He was young, brash, head-strong and while he was a lot happier and calmer than Anakin had ever been, he also tended to act without really thinking through the consequences. He had a sad, sneaking suspicion that Hik'te hadn't been taken as a padawan because no one wanted to deal with trying to tame that if they didn't have to.

Finally Anakin shook his head. "Even if I were older than I look, age does not always bring wisdom."

Hik'te shrugged. "Maybe not, but I don't know anyone who's as wise as you are."

At that, Anakin rolled his eyes. "Have you met Master Yoda? Old, green, about this tall," he held his hand out around his mid-section...which, at his current height, would make his imaginary Yoda about half a meter tall, if that.

The blue-skinned padawan snickered and covered his mouth when he recognized Anakin's exaggeration. "He doesn't count," he finally managed to say.

"Master Windu?"

Hik'te frowned good-naturedly. "Him neither."

"Master Yaddle?"

"Stop naming Council Members! That isn't fair!"

Anakin shook his head again, this time allowing a small smile. "I'm just pointing out that there are many people wiser than I am here at the Temple. I'd say most people are, really."

Hik'te suddenly seemed to sober at Anakin's words. "You shouldn't say things about yourself like that."

"I shouldn't speak the truth?" Anakin asked sardonically.

Hik'te shook his head. "It's not the truth. It's because you talk like that that Hale thinks you need a master."

Anakin blinked. That made no sense at all whatsoever. "What?"

"You know," Hik'te shrugged, "someone to watch out for you and tell you how awesome you are. Someone to protect you."

At that, the former Sith found himself frowning in disapproval. "I can protect myself."

Hik'te shrugged again. "Maybe, with the way you move with a lightsaber in your hand. But...I don't know," he seemed to be struggling to put his thoughts into words. "No one else is as mean to you as you are."

Anakin had to blink at that. Was insight catching among young souls or something?

"Are you implying that the person I need protection from the most is myself?" he asked slowly, and more than a little uneasily.

Hik'te frowned and looked up at the ceiling, thinking hard. Finally he seemed to come to a conclusion and nodded. "Yeah. That's what I mean."

"You may be more right than you realize," Anakin muttered.

"What?" Hik'te asked.

"I said you need to do it again," Anakin said, then turned back to his kata. He felt the other initiate's eyes on his back for a moment before a second snap-hiss sounded as the training blade sprang to life and Hik'te went back to his own kata.

Twenty minutes later they were kicked out so another class could be held, and they made their way down to meet their fellow initiates in silence. Anakin wasn't sure whether it was tense or companionable.

Perhaps he had been a little too perceptive when choosing his allies this time around.

xXx

*Author's note: The classes that Anakin has tested out of are basically classes he feels someone of 'genius' caliber with spotty, if specialized training (which is his cover story) could test out of—IE: General Galactic History, Basic Political Science, Basic Sociology, Mechanics, Geography, Piloting, etc.

The classes he still has to take as an initiate are some Mathematics courses (he has tested out of a few of these, but for purposes of this story, the Temple requires a certain amount of years in Mathematics anyway, no matter what level he'd reached), Basic Core-World Cultures (which he is mostly familiar with, but as he knows more of how they worked under a different rule, he needs a bit of a brush-up), Business (he knows how to run an Empire, not a business in a democracy, and due to missions and what not, he would need to know business basics and laws), Lightsaber Training (self explanatory), Force Theory (which he could probably teach better than the teacher, but they refused to allow him to test out of it, although they did allow him to 'catch up' to his age group—note: he hasn't yet because, again, he's trying to keep a low profile), Combat Training, Tactics (he needs the first for muscle memory but could—again—probably teach the second), Chemistry, Physics, Astronomy, Beginner's Healing, 'Basic' (as in the language) Writing, Grammar and Writing Composition, Psychology (of one's own race) and (of course) Force Techniques.

Yes, I know that's a lot for a young child, but realize that most initiates will easily fulfill the requirements by the time they reach the age of 12, and can then focus on finding a master. Anakin is taking on a bit more than a normal initiate as he can A. handle it intellectually, and B. he needs to 'catch up' in many of those classes, at least in the eyes of the Temple. With how the Jedi have to live, I can see that initiates would be expected to be well into the equivalent of an Earth-based college education by their 13th birthday.

Also, the Jedi don't strike me as an order that would encourage anyone to have a great deal of extra time on their hands. In my story, they study 3-5 subjects a day (switching every other day—an A/B schedule, if you're familiar with that—with one day off per week) on a regular basis and still have to fit in meditation and homework. There's a reason Anakin is thankful for a few extra free periods.

Additionally, for the purposes of this fic, initiates would be required for to study independently for advanced classes in some areas. For instance, they would be required to choose a different culture or society and only to study and then report on the psychology, religions and biology of their chosen culture. They would have 3 months to work on their report and that would carry into their Padawan years as well.

Actually, let me list the classes that would continue into their Padawan years (note: most of these will have different levels available to different age groups/skill sets): Mathmatics, Lightsaber Training, Force Theory, Combat Training (brush ups and side classes with tactics would go in this as they got older as it would be a matter of putting tactics into practice), the Psychology of common races and Force Techniques. Also, if a padawan chose, they could continue (and it is highly encouraged that they do) in a more focused skill set, such as piloting, politics, history, healing or even music and art, if they can convince the Council and their Master that they are dedicated enough and have a good reason that will benefit the Jedi Order or a Mission.

Thanks to Batfan7!