Anakin didn't have anyone to practice with.
It wasn't exactly an unusual state of being - not in the padawan training salle anyway. "The Den," it was called: a place for padawans to practice their techniques with each other and spar, away from the critical eyes of the masters. 'What happens in the Den stays in the Den,' was the saying.
Mostly what happened in the Den for Anakin was that he sparred holo dummies and Mark-H remotes, by himself. Aayla Secura had sparred with him once, he remembered (Djem So, very good) but he'd been twelve and she'd been a senior padawan, and he was pretty sure it was because Obi-Wan and Quinlan wanted him out of the way so they could talk about things they didn't want him to hear.
Anakin had gotten used to practicing alone. Not many padawans would outright refuse to duel him, but it just wasn't worth it to have to seek out a reluctant, stiffly polite partner every time. Easier to just fight the holo dummies, and they were usually more of a challenge anyway. It had been a while since he'd had to use the Den, though, and this time he practiced alone for a different reason.
Nobody was avoiding or ignoring him. There was just absolutely nobody around.
Okay, there were a few very young padawans over in the corner, more goofing around than practicing. They were far too intimidated to approach Anakin, though, and too inexperienced to bother sparring with. Even the upper mezzanine balcony was completely deserted. Everybody old enough to be of use in the war was either on assignment at the Temple, in the field with their master, or just kriffing dead.
The padawan pack, for instance. Eight other padawans he'd fought with on Jabiim - all stubborn as banthas, all complete idiots in that clear-eyed Jedi way, and all dead now. They had all lost their masters on that planet, as well. Nineteen Jedi and eight padawans, dead in the mud. He'd be dead too if he hadn't been leading the evacuation, itself an exercise in travesty.
And what for! What the FORCE had it been for?
Anakin slashed at his holographic opponent as the faceless figure backflipped out of reach. Teeth bared in a snarl and sweat stinging his eyes, Anakin didn't pause for even second; powerful Djem So strikes allowed the holo's flashy Ataru style no rest, pouncing on every possible opening and overwhelming its agility. It was only a matter of time. The holo didn't run out of energy like a real Ataru practitioner eventually would, but aerials were particularly vulnerable to Anakin's aggressive Form V. He'd already seen three opportunities to strike a winning blow, but he wasn't done yet.
Relentless, Anakin hammered on the hologram's nimble defense, cornering it like a hunting nexu until it was trapped without space to maneuver. It had only one choice - get past him and out into the open, somehow - and it attempted a spinning attack, meant to force him to fall back. Movements rushing together in a single heartbeat, Anakin beat the holo's blow aside and slid inside its guard. One quick flick of his weapon and an easy sai cha strike had sliced through the hologram's transparent neck.
A flesh and blood opponent or even a droid would have given Anakin the satisfaction of hearing its head fall to the floor. A solid, physical sign of defeat. The death of the dishonorable.
The faceless hologram only flickered from its usual cool blue color to crimson, and offered him a bow, conceding the match before deactivating. It disappeared over the space of a moment, leaving Anakin standing alone in the middle of the salle, out of breath and lit 'saber dipping towards the mats.
Lined up against the far wall, one of the training droids let out a speculative electronic beep.
Anakin turned his head pointedly and narrowed his eyes. "Keep your opinions to yourself, Eleven."
The droid swiveled its cylindrical head, visual sensors blinking on and off. Sighing, Anakin powered down his 'saber and walked back toward the control panel set in the wall. "I know," he said, "but I have to get better at this, Eleven. If I'm going back into the field, I have to be ready."
"Skywalker."
Anakin jumped nearly a foot, looking around at the door and the rest of the room before he remembered to look up. He might have thought Eleven somehow mysteriously gained a human voice and spoke to him, except that he knew that voice far too well.
Sure enough, there was Master Windu leaning on the upper railing, looking down at him with raised eyebrows. "Talking to yourself?"
Sudden noise came from the group of padawans on the other side of the room. They might have gasped, realizing the Master of the Order was in their midst, in this most unlikely of all places. Master Windu clearly cared for their presence about as much as he did for that of the droids, though. They could go back to playing push-feather, or whatever it was they were doing. Anakin wasn't so lucky.
He shrugged. "Nope. Just TD 1138, here. We're old friends."
"I see."
It was obvious Master Windu was here for a reason. Probably to warn Anakin about the consequences of not listening to Ki-Adi Mundi, and that he should be grateful, and that this was his last chance. The polite thing would have been to run up right away and present himself attentively for whatever Master Windu had to say. Instead, Anakin just waited expectantly. If Master Windu wanted something, he could ask for it.
"Get up here, Skywalker."
Or he could demand it - that worked too. Anakin sighed, and climbed up to the mezzanine.
It was smaller up there, darker and more enclosed than the wide-open training mats below. When they moved away from the rails, the padawans below weren't even in their line of sight.
Anakin crossed his arms. "Master?"
Master Windu looked at him for a moment, silent and imposing and the physical representation of everything Anakin resented. Anakin took a second to hate the fact that Master Windu was still taller than him. Since he was already twenty standard years old at this point, it was unlikely he'd ever win that battle. But that didn't mean he had to like it.
"Ataru?" said Master Windu finally. "If you want to improve, you should try a Form III opponent."
No kidding. Anakin was perfectly aware that Soresu was more resilient against Djem So than Ataru. For some reason, though, he hadn't really felt like sparring a Soresu wielder today. In a feat of great strength, Anakin summoned a facial expression that wasn't pure scorn. "Yeah?"
"Or Form VII," Master Windu added, like an afterthought. "Do you know what day it is, Skywalker?"
Form VII was Vapaad, and there weren't any complete combat models for it loaded into the Den's virtual opponent database. You'd have to go to the masters' training salle for that, which - not being a knight - Anakin couldn't.
"Centaxday." At this point, Anakin was just confused. What was this conversation.
"Day after council," Master Windu agreed. "And I seem to be without my usual sparring partner for the afternoon."
Oh. Right. Anakin blinked, mouth pressing into a harsh line. What was he supposed to say? 'I'm sorry?' He was sorry. His entire being could sometimes be boiled down to the word sorry, but Master Windu's lack of a partner was the least of his concerns.
"Would you care to join me?"
He couldn't have heard that right. Anakin stared, but Master Windu was as serious as ever. "I'm not Obi-Wan, Master Windu."
"I'm very aware of that," said Master Windu dryly. "But it looks like you need some Djem So training against an actually challenging partner if you want to become a practitioner of the form, and I think you would be a worthwhile opponent. What do you say, Skywalker?"
I think you would be a worthwhile opponent.
Anakin realized, with gradually dawning shock, that this was a request.
Thumbs hooked in his belt, Master Windu was waiting. Three seconds ago, that had been the first good thing Master Windu had said about him not followed by "but" in as many years as Anakin could remember knowing him. It was that, and the novelty of being asked rather than ordered, that had Anakin tilting his head and shrugging one shoulder. "Sure. Here?"
Anakin gestured with his 'saber hilt down at the training floor below, but Master Windu shook his head. "The sparring arena. More space, less..." He waved a dismissive hand at the Den, indicating something Anakin wasn't quite sure of. "Leave the padawans to their games."
That decided, Master Windu turned and strode toward the door that would dump them from the mezzanine out into a First Knowledge Quarter side hallway. Anakin followed, more than slightly dazed and again feeling like a rangy young boy next to Master Windu's imposing figure.
The sparring arena was the most public practice room in the Temple: huge, multi-staged, and open for use to everyone in the Temple except younglings. It was one of the places you could count on almost always finding a big group of beings - along with the refectories and the Temple training ground - no matter what time of the day or week. Every time Master Windu sparred there, instead of the more private masters' salle, it turned into an event.
Anakin had watched him and Obi-Wan there a few times, cheering for his master even though Master Windu won every time. Usually they had used the masters' salle for their Centaxday matches, though. When he thought about it, Anakin had figured they did it for the privacy; mostly, he'd just seen it as a convenient period of time when he knew Obi-Wan would be out of the way.
Master Windu had to know they were going to draw a huge audience. Why would he choose that? Maybe he wanted to thrash Anakin publicly, demonstrate how unfit he was to be a Jedi.
"You haven't practiced Form V long, have you?"
"Huh?" They were in a lift, heading down towards the center of the Temple. Anakin had to work for a second to get his spinning mind to focus on the question he'd been asked. "No, not that long. I started studying it after Geonosis." After he'd lost his hand, and had to re-learn all kinds of technique with his prosthetic.
"What led you to that decision, in particular?"
He shrugged. "Ataru didn't work." Not on Geonosis, not later. "It's not as suited to the type of combat we face now. And what else am I going to practice? Soresu's not my thing." Niman wasn't worth mentioning. "Makashi?" Anakin made a scoffing noise before he remembered that some other beings besides Dooku were Makashi practitioners - Ki-Adi Mundi, for one.
Master Windu didn't reprimand him for disrespect, though, not even tacitly. He looked at Anakin sideways, eyebrow raised, and his presence in the Force almost seemed amused before it was obscured again by his shields. "Juyo?"
"Is that an invitation?" snarked Anakin. He knew it wasn't. Juyo meant Vapaad, and that was Master Windu's sole purview. "I'm not stupid enough to think you would ever let me study Juyo, even if I wanted to."
It was almost heady, addressing Master Windu with such deadly honesty. Obi-Wan had never tolerated anything but scrupulous respect in public interactions with other masters, but Obi-Wan wasn't here now, and Anakin was on his own. Master Windu could do whatever the hells he wanted to do with Anakin. Level any punishment, delay his knighting indefinitely, completely kick him out of the Order - and Anakin knew better than to think anyone else would fight for him.
Under the circumstances, speaking his mind so brazenly felt a little like swaggering up to a ravenous gundark, unarmed, and spitting in its eye.
"You're right," said Master Windu, matter-of-fact. "Djem So is a good choice, though. It's versatile enough to stand you in good stead both in blaster combat and against Force-wielders, and it draws on your strengths. You'll be formidable, once you master the self-control necessary for such an aggressive form."
Anakin's fists were clenched at his sides, and he bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. At that moment, he was more infuriated by Master Windu's very existence than he could ever remember being. His detachment, his strength, his certainty which brooked no opposition - the way he walked through these halls, talked about these things like he owned them.
"Like the self-control we showed on Jabiim? Or Muunilinst, for that matter? We took fourteen Separatist bases in twenty-one days, Master Windu. There was no way we could sustain those gains, we didn't have the troops or the equipment, but we did it anyway. Because we were ordered to, because someone at command was in a kriffing hurry." The words piled on top of each other, and no sooner had he spoken one than Anakin had fifteen more primed to fire like flak cannons. "We thought we could conquer an entire planet in thirty days. No idea what we would face, no clue about the terrain, no idea of the enemy's strength, but by the Force we needed those mines, so what the hell! That doesn't sound like self-control to me, Master."
"If you're unsatisfied with the credibility of the Order, Skywalker, you're free to seek whatever path you wish."
"Is that what you want?" Anakin stopped.
They'd reached the wide hallways of the central Temple, but he was past caring who saw. Cold disgust filled him, rooting him to the spot. Was that why Master Windu had sought him out - what this entire encounter had been leading up to?
Master Windu had paused several paces ahead, his shoulders and back a rigid square. When he turned, every step that took him back towards Anakin was heavy. His shields had cracked a little, and everything Anakin could sense from him was like a sharp slap in the face. Lifting his chin, Anakin looked Master Windu in the eyes.
"It's not about what I want," he said, with exaggerated slowness.
"Isn't it? You never wanted me to be trained! You never wanted me to be a Jedi. You've distrusted and doubted and hindered and blocked me every step of the way- Don't you think I know how you feel about me? Don't you think I know that the only reason I'm still here right now is because of Qui-Gon Jinn, and because of Obi-Wan? And now, because my master is - dead-" Anakin stumbled a little over the word, "you think you can make me disappear? Well guess what, Master Windu. I have problems with the Order, I definitely kriffing do - but I am a Jedi. And if you want me to leave the Order, you're going to have to throw me out."
Anakin realized the truth of it as he said it, like the words themselves had unlocked something inside him. He'd thought about leaving the order so often, as a child and a teenager and after he married Padme, and maybe he still would, someday. But he stood under these arching pillars with a lightsaber clipped to his belt and knew, like a sudden revelation, that he wanted this. Anakin wanted to master the Force, master himself, and win this war. Being a Jedi was part of who he was, and he had a duty.
Duty had been one of Obi-Wan's favorite words, it seemed like, and Anakin had grown to despise hearing it. He suddenly saw, now, that he'd misunderstood. He'd been thinking of duty as the kind of thing you had to get out of bed and do because you had no choice, because you'd be punished if you didn't, because Watto wouldn't let you and your mom eat if you didn't.
Obi-Wan had meant something a lot closer to loyalty.
"You're right, Skywalker. I never wanted you to be trained," said Master Windu. "But it doesn't matter, it never did. I don't decide who becomes a Jedi and who doesn't."
Anakin scoffed. "Coulda fooled me."
"Let. Me. Speak. Do you know what I can do, Skywalker? That I can see things others can't?"
Anakin nodded. Shatterpoints. Everyone knew that Master Windu had the rare ability to sense fault lines in the Force, confluences of significance or of weakness. Nobody had ever been able to adequately explain to him how it worked.
Master Windu's voice was low and curt, and Anakin would have been a fool to miss the danger behind it. "That makes it very hard for me to look at you, without thinking that you're a bomb. I see you and I'm thinking, this is my home, these Jedi are my family, and you're a thermal detonator sitting pretty, right smack in the center of everything."
"Why?" cried Anakin, sounding far too distraught. A voice, Obi-Wan's clipped accent saying, The boy is dangerous. He'd been a child! What could he have done to deserve this, even back then?
"Because you're about to shatter, Skywalker. You always have been. Here." Three fingers jabbed, blunt pressure over Anakin's heart, and then came up to tap at his temple. Anakin swallowed. He could feel the weight of Master Windu's foreboding like it was his own, and his fingers pressing just at the root of Anakin's padawan braid. "And right here. Can't you feel it?"
All things die, Anakin Skywalker.
He wanted to deny it, demand 'what the Sith hells are you talking about' - but he couldn't. He knew exactly what Master Windu was describing, felt it all the time. Anakin had felt those cracks the day his mother died, felt them when he fought Ventress for the first time in the skies over Muunilinst, felt them break wide open on Jabiim. He'd thought they were hidden, though, even from Obi-Wan in their deepest meditations - his own anxieties, his own imagination, his own nightmares. He never even suspected that Master Windu, of all people, could see them painted over his heart as clear as anything when they passed in the halls.
When Master Windu stepped back, Anakin's eyes lifted to meet his again. He knew he looked scared. Denying it had never been in the cards. Master Windu could see the admission on his face, but he didn't look victorious or vindicated. He looked tired.
"Master..." Anakin trailed off, tried again. "I want to be a Jedi, Master Windu. I'm doing my best... I don't want to hurt anyone. What else can I do?"
The way Master Windu looked at him was strange, resigned and a little amused. "The fact that I voted against accepting you into the Order ten years ago became irrelevant to everyone, including me, ten years ago. My concern since then has been not that I didn't want you trained, but that you didn't want you trained."
"Yes I did," Anakin tried to argue. Sure, he hadn't been the best student, and he'd thought about leaving several times, but there were plenty of times that he would have refused, if he'd been offered the chance to walk away.
"Obi-Wan wanted you trained," said Master Windu, dry as a bone, "and you wanted Obi-Wan to be your parent. You wanted him to be attached to you, to be proud of you. And he was. But, outside of that, you acted like a child being dragged around against your will and under protest. That's not the way to train a Jedi.
"If you had been raised in the creche, you would have had until the time you took the Initiate Trials to decide whether the Jedi path was one you wanted to follow. Not everyone is meant to be a Jedi - plenty of initiates choose a different life, every year - but you had that choice made for you, and I haven't seen you make peace with it yet. You can't commit yourself to the Order reluctantly, halfheartedly, under protest."
"I know that." Anakin's ears burned. In the back of his mind, he thought it was probably going to take a while to recover from being slapped upside the head with the realization that Master Windu saw straight through him, all the way down to his bones, after a lifetime of thinking Master Windu was the most unfairly biased master on the Council.
"Good." Master Windu spread his hands. "You said it yourself. You have been trained. Senior Padawan Learner Anakin Skywalker. You'll be Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker in a matter of weeks if everything goes to plan. You are a Jedi. If that's what you want, there are ways to control this. Not every shatterpoint has to shatter. But this is the part where you have to decide: what do you want, Skywalker?"
"I want..." Shaking his head, Anakin thought hard. He wanted to be a Jedi, to spend his life helping people, but sometimes... the Order. He couldn't shake the memories of all the times he'd been told that he couldn't do anything for some beings, that political or economic pressures prevented them, or that it was impossible. "I want to know," he said, fighting to express himself. "I want to know that- That we're doing good."
Master Windu's mouth compressed slightly on one side, in a way that was almost the suggestion of a smile. "Is that what you want? To do good?"
"Yes."
"There are many ways to do good in the galaxy, Padawan. Do you want to do it with the Jedi Order?"
So kriffing persistent. "Yes, Master Windu. I do." Anakin didn't have to think about his answer. "I just. The way we only intervene to help people when it's politically necessary... How many times has the Order let some disastrous crisis happen on a backwater planet without so much as noticing, but intervened with all our skill to save some trade treaty that helps no one but a corporate conglomerate, because the Senate requested it? On Jabiim, we betrayed the native loyalists who had made our invasion possible in the first place. I left them there, to be executed by the Seps, because I had to get our clones out and there wasn't room.
"And I know it's impossible to save everybody. But that didn't have to happen, Master Windu. It didn't have to happen that way. I am a Jedi - I just want to know... to know that we're doing as much good as we can." Waving a dismissive hand, Anakin added, "Not as much good as is politically convenient."
Master Windu's level gaze evaluated him silently, and time stretched. Anakin could see each consideration as he thought. Face as impassive as ever, it was Master Windu's eyes that gave it away - surprise, satisfaction, interest, concern. Anakin stood straight-backed and tall under his judgment.
At last, Master Windu said slowly, "Well, then. Welcome to the Jedi Order, Padawan Skywalker."
Anakin blinked, taken aback when Master Windu bowed to him. A little wrong-footed, he hurried to return the gesture, and only noticed afterward that they had exchanged bows as equals, not as Council Master and padawan.
"Now that that's out of the way..." Quirking an eyebrow, Master Windu turned slightly, as if wondering whether Anakin were still planning on training. Truthfully, Anakin had almost forgotten why they were even there, but he quickly moved to catch up to Master Windu. He felt as if everything he'd always known had turned itself inside-out in the middle of this random hall on the way to the Sparring Arena.
"You're right, incidentally," Master Windu said as they walked. "Earlier, when you said we haven't been waging the war with self-control."
"I'm always happy to hear about how I'm right."
"Do you ever not interrupt?"
"I've been reliably informed that the answer to that question is no," said Anakin, automatically. Obi-Wan would have said, Whoever informed you of that must be as discerning as they are wise, because, of course, it had been him.
Anakin still wasn't used to the invisible kick to the chest he got when he remembered, suddenly, that he wasn't talking to his master, and he never would again.
Master Windu just shook his head. "I'm stepping down as Master of the Order."
"What?!"
"So I can take a more active role in the war," he said, looking at Anakin sideways.
His shock was undignified, Anakin knew, but actually what? Master Windu had chaired the High Council since Anakin could remember.
"The time in which I served the Order best from a Council seat is past. This entire war is a departure from Jedi principles and, though while the Sith lead the Separatists we have no choice but to fight, I sense that there is great danger in taking this course. We need to be incredibly careful, and we have not been."
"So, who's taking over? Master Yoda?"
"Probably. The vote will be held tomorrow. Shortly after, I will be heading to Haruun Kal."
They had reached the Sparring Arena, and Master Windu paused near the door, frowning. Anakin waited as well, unsure why he was being told all this.
"Is Master Billaba still missing?" he asked. That could be the only reason for another mission to Haruun Kal.
"Yes, she is." Master Windu frowned, whatever he was thinking about directed inwardly. "When I go, I plan to leave Systems Army Alpha under the temporary command of you and Ki-Adi. You'll be sent to Praesitlyn; clone intelligence has picked up whispers of the ICC there being targeted by the Separatists, and Sluis Van may need your reinforcements."
You and Ki-Adi was a very interesting way to phrase that, Anakin thought, but his musings were blown out of the water by the next thing Master Windu said.
"When I return, if all goes well, you'll be knighted and given your own command."
Anakin's mouth dropped open. He hadn't missed when Master Windu alluded to him being knighted, earlier, but he'd thought it was just a placating notion for some time in the future - not that Master Windu actually had a specific timetable worked out! If Obi-Wan had given him this news, he'd have probably made an impatient gesture and said 'It's about time!' Ferus Olin had been knighted years ago, after all.
Now measuring himself against Ferus Olin sounded ludicrous, even inside his own head, and all he could think of was that somebody besides Obi-Wan was going to have to cut off his padawan braid.
"Think you can handle that, Skywalker?" Master Windu was watching him, gaze sharp.
What was he supposed to say? The irrational thought that this might all still be some kind of setup to watch Anakin fail streaked through his mind like an errant comet. For a minute, he thought about what might be the humble thing to reply. Then he shrugged.
"Absolutely, Master."
Master Windu smiled. Frankly, it was terrifying. "I don't want to see you fail, Skywalker." How had he known what Anakin was thinking? He palmed the entry key, and the doors to the Sparring Arena hissed open. "Except on the mats, of course, where you most definitely will."
Anakin bristled, but it was the pure anticipation of a challenge, the rising excitement of testing himself against long odds. "We'll see about that," he said, and followed Master Windu into the room without fear.
xxx
Not many days later, Anakin and Master Mundi were leaving the Coruscant cruiser staging area as the last warm light of the evening faded. The tallest city skyscrapers had already blotted most of it from view, but there was still a faint glow that lined everything with gold. It would last until Coruscant's sun set fully, and the city lights overpowered the sky instead.
"The crews are on schedule to have everything ready for tomorrow's departure, General," Clone Commander Bacara was saying. "Although I still think we're carrying too much dead weight. The Nova Corps' tactical use comes from its flexibility and maneuverability. Traveling with a full Sector Army-"
"You may be right, Commander," answered Master Mundi, "but until we discover the situation on Praesitlyn we cannot say with certainty what capabilities we will need."
They had been over this already. A lot. Bacara wasn't really pleased with attaching his unit to the hierarchy of a larger force not under his command, that much was clear. Anakin could tell from the Force that Master Mundi found him somewhat frustrating, despite the always-pleasant exterior he presented. Honestly, he reminded Anakin of Alpha, the hard-nosed, back-talking ARC trooper who'd led his and Obi-Wan's clone forces until he, too, was killed on Jabiim.
Only listening with half an ear - which was probably more than Master Mundi was listening with at this point - Anakin paused on the accessway that led from the staging area to the attached military base. Down the other concourse, Master Windu stood looking out over the busy shipyard, hands tucked in the wide sleeves of his cloak and a familiar expression on his serious face that Anakin couldn't quite name.
"Hey, Master Ki-Adi," interrupted Anakin. "What's Master Windu doing here?"
Master Mundi paused as well, looking in the direction Anakin's pointing finger indicated. "Ah, waiting for his transport to Haruun Kal, I should imagine."
Oh, right, Anakin remembered. And just like that, he knew exactly what Master Windu's expression meant.
"I'll be right back!"
He ran the length of the accessway easily. Master Windu undoubtedly sensed and heard him coming the whole time, but he only looked over once Anakin had clattered to a stop beside him.
"Skywalker." He took in Anakin's entire being with a cursory glance, and then turned back to surveying the staging area. "I take it you and Master Mundi anticipate a successful launch?"
"Yep," said Anakin. "Complaints and a few mild catastrophes aside. When are you leaving?"
"Any minute now. You?"
"Tomorrow morning. Early." A nod was the only answer, and that uneasy, weighted look had settled back onto Master Windu's face. "I know what you're thinking."
That got Master Windu's attention, even if his eyebrows were very skeptical. "Oh?" he said, deadpan, like he wasn't even sure he wanted Anakin to enlighten him.
"Don't worry, Master. She'll be fine," said Anakin, and watched Master Windu's face shut down.
Wincing, Anakin was almost afraid he'd gone too far, but nothing snapped back at him in the Force. After a moment, Master Windu said, "And how would you know that."
Because Depa Billaba was a fearsome Jedi Master in her own right, a member of the Jedi Council, and one of only two expert Vapaad practitioners besides Master Windu himself. But Master Windu was already well aware of all that, and Anakin knew from personal experience that the 'I'm worried about my stupid padawan' malady would never respond to logic, anyway. Instead, he just smiled brightly and said, "Because you trained her."
Master Windu just looked at Anakin for a minute, as if he couldn't figure out for the life of him what kind of strange creature Anakin was.
When a ship landed just below them, both stepped back and shielded their faces from the blowback air. It was a midsize cargo transport, just the thing for getting out of the Core Worlds without much notice, and its 187th Legion clone escort marked it unmistakably as Master Windu's ride. Anakin crossed his arms, moving out of the way.
He stepped down towards the ramp, but then looked back at Anakin. "Be careful on Praesitlyn, Skywalker. I don't wish to outlive Qui-Gon's entire lineage."
Nodding, Anakin cycled through reflex Obi-Wan responses, from 'no promises' to 'pot, kettle, black', finally settling on, "I will if you will, Master."
Master Windu apparently decided that was satisfactory. "May the Force be with you."
"May the Force be with you," Anakin answered with Master Mundi, who had come up to stand beside him.
Master Windu strode to his transport and did not look back.
"You know, Master Ki-Adi," Anakin commented over his shoulder, "I've recently realized I have very little clue what's actually going on."
Master Mundi smiled. "Hm. Some would say that realization marks the beginning of wisdom."
They watched as Master Windu's ship lifted up off the ground, hovering slightly for a moment and then shooting away. Anakin lost sight of it against the sunset glare leaking between the towers on the horizon, and then it was gone. For a second they stood, facing the darkening staging area and the glittering city beyond, and then they turned back to their own work.
Tomorrow, they would do the same thing and, if Anakin survived to return, he would be a Jedi Knight.