Author's Note: Oh, I feel like such a bad person when I don't update in so long... But I do have a good excuse, for once. I was on vacation for the past two weeks, and though I was writing, I didn't get the chance to upload the chapter until now. So, enjoy.


Lessons with Drin were resumed as though they had never left off. If Anakin had had any doubts as to whether they would continue after he had been away for so long, those doubts were immediately dispelled when Drin came into his room the morning after his return. Anakin was sitting at the table, having just finished breakfast, when he entered.

"I heard you caught the Neimoidian Trade Federation leader," exclaimed Drin as soon as he came through the door. "The Council must be awfully happy with you."

Anakin eyed his pupil for a moment before answering. There was something different about him—a growth spurt, most likely. Yes, he definitely looked taller; or maybe he'd just achieved decent posture during Anakin's absence.

"Well, he's not the prize we'd hoped," Anakin answered finally. "And it's not worth mind-tricking him. Gunray hardly knows anything at all, much less anything about Dooku's plans." Brushing the crumbs off his fingers, he sat back in his chair. "So, what's on the list for today?"

"I don't have much homework," Drin said, shrugging. His hand found the long, dark Padawan braid on his shoulder, twisting it around his index finger. "But I was thinking you could help me with something."

"Sure. What?"

Drin hesitated a moment, as though uncertain of his request. When he spoke, though, the decision in his voice was clear. "I want to learn how to meditate better—you know, with more focus."

It was a good decision on Drin's part, and Anakin approved; he just couldn't figure out why on Avon the Drin he knew would make such a request. Up until this moment, he would have sworn that his pupil loathed meditation just as much as Anakin himself once had.

"Sure," Anakin said slowly. "That sounds like a good idea." And Drin smiled.

Lessons began to take on a much more Force-oriented scope from that day forward. Not only that, there was a marked difference in Drin's attitude. In the time Anakin had been gone, willfulness had been replaced by not just obedience, but by an attentiveness that surprised him, and an eagerness that made Anakin think that Drin actually enjoyed learning this sort of thing.

The explanation eluded him until a few weeks afterward—then Anakin realized that Master Brun, finally fed up, must have given Drin such a tongue-lashing that he had finally calmed down. Grateful for this fact, Anakin determined to speak with her as soon as possible.

As luck would have it, though, before Anakin could find the time to find her, Master Brun came looking for him. As he sat in the training room, watching Drin practice katas with a group of friends, he heard a noise beside him, and looked up to see Ka'ela Brun standing there.

"I'm glad to have found you here," she said. "He's really improved, hasn't he?" At this, she gestured toward Drin, and Anakin could easily agree.

"He's actually begun to learn, I think, rather than just listening," Anakin noted. "Have you noticed that, too?"

Master Brun nodded, sitting on the bench beside him. "There's no denying there's been a definite change." She gave Anakin a smile. "I'm very grateful to you, Master Skywalker. Whatever you said to him certainly worked."

Anakin opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, puzzled, as he realized what she'd just said. "But I never got the chance to speak to him," he protested. "I had to leave for Geonosis almost immediately after leaving your room, when you told me about—" he did a quick check to ensure that Drin could not hear them "—about all the problems you were having with him. I thought you must have talked with him after I left."

Slowly, Master Brun shook her head. The uncertainty in her voice revealed her confusion. "I never said anything to him," she admitted. "There was no need."

As one, they looked over at the dark-haired boy on the other side of the room, his brow furrowed in concentration as he lashed out against the air. One of them ought to have stood and confronted Drin; neither did, for fear that whatever had caused this change would rescind itself. And after all, it wasn't as though a change in such a direction could be in any way dangerous.

At some unknown point in Amidala's complicated negotiations with Grievous, it had been somehow agreed that the Jedi would help monitor the security of the Separatist Republic. These missions were hardly as frequent as those within the domain of the Republic, and not as time-consuming, but although Anakin had been approached once or twice by the Council to take them, he always refused, and someone else would be sent. The idea of taking orders from an old nemesis like Grievous grated unbearably on his sense of principle.

In order for the Jedi to properly assist Grievous (and the Council never refused), at least once a month a prominent Jedi would go to meet with him. Though the official capital of the Separatist Republic had been announced as Orest 6, these meetings were always held on Grievous's personal ship.

The missions were purely diplomatic, necessary but still very routine. For this reason, often the Knight sent would take one or two Padawans with him or her, as it was considered good experience for them. Anakin knew all this, but never supposed he would have to put it into practice. Sadly, such was not the case. As he and Ferus strolled along the corridors of the Jedi Temple one day, Windu approached them and asked permission to talk to Anakin alone. Granted it, he walked by his former apprentice's side.

"It's nearly time for the Jedi to meet with Grievous," remarked Windu. Anakin said nothing, but looked warily at his Master. "If you were to go, you could take your student. I'm sure it would be a very educational experience for him."

"No doubt," Anakin conceded, "if I were willing to go."

"You're being unusually stubborn about this."

"For the sake of everyone involved, I think that's a good thing."

"Anakin, this grudge against Grievous cannot stand," Windu said sternly, and Anakin's gaze rose defiantly. "You are the last person I would expect to see fall prey to the Dark Side, but stronger Jedi than you have been brought down by less."

Biting down on his lip, Anakin nodded. "I know that, Master," he conceded. "I am sorry, but—" After a moment's obvious struggle, he burst out, "To ally ourselves someone who has committed so many atrocities is not the Jedi way! How can we just forget all the people he's killed?"

"The Council's trust in him is not blind, Anakin," Windu murmured. "No one has forgotten his crimes."

Anakin remained tight-lipped. "Forgive me, Master, but there is nothing right about being at peace with such a person. He is a criminal, and force does not make him otherwise."

"I agree with you."

Before the surprised Anakin could respond, Windu continued firmly, "And all the Council is of the same mind. But circumstances will not change to suit us. Whether or not Grievous has changed is, from the Jedi point of view, somewhat irrelevant; that perspective does not include the Senate, and they are the ones making this decision. For now, we must abide by their law, which means—"

"—you want me to go meet with Grievous," Anakin finished.

"I think it would be for the best."

Of course Anakin went; and he took Drin with him, and—though it was unexpected—Aviva as well, after her Master asked Anakin to take her. This was the source of some worry for both of Drin's teachers, but the way he had been acting lately, it seemed safe to hope that there would be no problems.

The three Jedi took an official transport to the atmosphere of Yavin, which was where Grievous's ship was currently parked. These were extremely spacious, but a bit on the slow side, which allowed Anakin time to get to know Aviva. Until now, she'd been known to him only as the temptation which stood in Drin's way, and he'd wondered privately if she had encouraged this dangerous behavior at all. Now, though, he was close enough to make the guess that it had been no fault of hers.

Aviva was fair, with pale skin and light hair that fell to her shoulders, and she was tall. She was of the carefree sort that laughed often, but could turn serious at a moment's notice when there was something important afoot. She did, as she explained to Anakin, enjoy any sort of mission at all, but her favorites were political. That was why Aviva had asked her Master to ask Anakin about taking her to meet with Grievous—she had aspirations of being a diplomat.

Up until the three of them reached Grievous's ship, there seemed to be nothing between Drin and Aviva that should not have been there—at that point, as soon as they saw the enormous Separatist Republic flagship, Anakin forgot everything that might have distracted him from his one goal, which was to act like a professional Jedi Knight who held no grudges. Pulling on his cloak, he turned to Drin and Aviva, who were sitting behind him in the cockpit.

"Remember, there's nothing you have to do," Anakin instructed them. "You're here to watch and listen and learn."

They nodded earnestly, identical nervous expressions on their faces. Neither of them had done anything of this importance before. Anakin saw this, and bit back a grin. "And don't worry," he added.

They boarded the flagship by use of a much smaller transport, the equivalent of a rowboat on an ocean ship. As soon as they entered Grievous's hangar, a door opened in the wall and a very tall human entered as well, wearing official robes and a neatly trimmed black beard.

"Master Skywalker," he said as he approached Anakin, bowing. His voice was as deep as his appearance suggested it would be. "We were expecting you. The General is most grateful that you would come to meet with him—and, of course, your apprentices as well," he added upon catching sight of Aviva and Drin.

Anakin returned the gesture. "I'm grateful that the General has time to meet with me," he replied, knowing full well that he would see nothing of Grievous on this mission.

"If you are willing, we can begin now," the man invited, "or if you would prefer time to rest—"

"No, thank you," Anakin swiftly demurred. For the next few hours, he could be the most diplomatic Knight that ever lived, fine, but he still wanted the whole experience behind him as soon as possible. "That's quite all right. We can begin."

With one final bow the man led them back through the door through which he had originally come. The halls of Grievous's ship were as Anakin would have expected them—the walls were starkly blank, making no attempt to hide the cold metal that most ship owners would have covered with paintings or cloth or decoration of some sort, and the hard steel floor loudly echoed the four's footsteps as they walked. When at length they reached a door that seemed in no way outstanding from the others they had passed, the Jedi's guide paused and held it open for them before entering himself.

This room in terms of décor hardly differed from the hallways but for the fair-sized round table in the center of its floor, which had around it eight chairs. Three of them were already occupied: a Gossam, a Rodian and a female woman with red hair held these places, looking up as the Jedi entered. Anakin sat directly across from them, and Aviva and Drin seated themselves on either side of him. Aviva sat up straight, eagerly waiting for talk to begin; Drin looked down at his lap.

"General Grievous is, unfortunately, unable to be here," their guide explained, now seated as well. "His work on Orest 6 has kept him very busy."

"As long as you directly represent Grievous, I have no problem with that," Anakin answered truthfully.

"Excellent. Then let's get down to business."

Several hours later, it could be concluded that the meeting had gone as well, and as monotonously, as could have been hoped. They were almost finished and Anakin could tell that while Aviva was still at least vaguely interested, Drin—no matter how changed he had become—was immensely bored. To his credit, it was a boredom that only his long-time teacher could sense.

"Excellent," the bearded man repeated. It was a word he seemed to enjoy using. "Now there is just one last item of business."

The woman beside him smiled knowingly, and from a pocket in her robes pulled out a small black case. She pushed it across the table at Anakin, who looked at it a moment before tucking it away under his belt.

"That contains a datachip with a message from the General to Chancellor Amidala," she said. "Its contents are of a delicate nature. General Grievous has strict orders that no hand must take it from yours but the Chancellor's."

"Far be it from me to disobey the General," Anakin replied, sounding perfectly sincere. Grievous's aides rose, Anakin followed, and Aviva and Drin quickly scrambled to their feet when they saw that it was allowed.

"It is late," the redhead remarked. "Rooms are available, if you and your apprentices would like to spend the night here."

"I thank you for your offer," Anakin said, "and General Grievous as well—but I'm afraid we must return to the Temple immediately."

"As you wish."

After one last round of courtesy bows, the three Jedi left the meeting room, walking back through the halls the way they had come. No one said much; all of them were tired after such a long day. As soon as they had boarded their own ship, Anakin instinctively touched his pocket to make sure the datachip was still safely there.

"You two can go get some sleep," he told the others. "I'll set the hyperspace coordinates."

They nodded wordlessly—Drin yawned—and left for their respective rooms. Anakin went to the cockpit and set their path toward Coruscant, then followed the other two Jedi back into the rest of the ship. By Coruscant Standard Time, it was nearly midnight, and Anakin was glad to fall into bed on a sleep couch next to Drin. Aviva had taken the room across the hallway.

He had no idea how long he was asleep, nor how far they had gone, when suddenly Anakin was jerked awake by an enormous jolt that shook the ship. Drin, already precariously close to the edge of his sleep couch, tumbled onto the floor. In the darkness, so suddenly torn from sleep, there was a moment of utter confusion for the both of them.

"Whazzat?" asked Drin blearily, sitting up. Anakin groped for his cloak.

"I don't know," he answered, blinking several times. "One second." He stood, pulling the cloak on, and left the room. Aviva was already standing in the lit hallway.

"Master Skywalker, what was that?" she asked, her voice worried.

"I'm not sure," Anakin reiterated. From behind, he heard Drin join them. "There might be a problem with the hyperspace generator. It's probably nothing, don't worry." He set off for the cockpit, Aviva and Drin trailing anxiously behind.

When Anakin stepped into that room, he saw immediately that something was wrong. The swift blue trails that curled around the ship, meaning they were in hyperspace, had gone, and in their place there was only hard, black space. A bewildered frown creased Anakin's forehead as he sat down at the controls.

"This can't be right—we can't be to Coruscant yet," he muttered to himself. But even before he heard the voice over the comm system, Anakin knew something was very wrong.

"Republic transport, do not move," ordered a rough, guttural voice, a man's voice. Aviva gasped, startled. "Do not attempt to enter hyperspace; we can easily prevent that. Prepare to be boarded."

"Blast it!" Anakin swore. He grabbed for the comm button. "There are Jedi on this ship," he warned the speaker. "Do not attempt to board—we are prepared to fight."

"Republic transport, prepare to be boarded," repeated the voice, sounding almost gleeful. Then communication was cut off.

"We are?" Drin demanded. His voice had suddenly upped an octave.

"Can't we run away?" asked Aviva. "Who are these people, anyway?" Anakin shook his head.

"Pirates," he answered tersely. "And no, they've got a tractor beam on us. That's what yanked us out of hyperspace." Why they were even attacking this transport, Anakin had no idea. Probably they thought there might have been a senator on board worth holding for ransom. Not that it mattered; there was nothing on board important enough to steal…

Anakin stiffened, and his hand went again to the datachip. Blasted pirates, he thought fervently. The chances of the pirates actually getting anywhere near enough to Anakin to steal the datachip—of all things—was virtually nothing. And yet, he knew well enough what Master Yoda, Windu, even Obi-Wan would have done.

Pulling the datachip from his pocket, Anakin eyed the two apprentices standing behind him. Drin was closest—Anakin shoved the chip into his hand.

"Wha—?"

"I need you to take this into the escape pod," Anakin ordered. Drin's eyes widened very suddenly. "Seal the door and don't open it unless you hear me call you. Only, only jettison it if I don't come for you in twenty minutes. Understand?"

Drin nodded, but he didn't move until Anakin gave him a little shove. "It probably won't take me more than five minutes," he reassured him hastily. "Now go."

The Padawan ran out of the cockpit, clutching the chip in his hand. Anakin sat down at the controls.

"They must be about to come on board," he said; his voice was determinedly calm. "I can break their tractor beam—it can't be very strong—but it'll take me a few minutes. Hang on."

Aviva sank into the copilot's chair and strapped on her crash webbing, only just in time before Anakin gave the engine free rein, pushing it forward to its limit. The quiet humming became a dull roar, sending shudders through the transport. The whole ship was straining furiously against the tractor beam's pull.

"Almost," Anakin grunted. "I felt it give…" He pushed it again, somehow even harder this time, and with a great heave the transport broke free, even as Aviva heard the first scrapings of the pirates' ship against theirs. Breathless, Anakin pulled a lever, and stars streaked past the cockpit and then disappeared.

Leaning back, he ran a hand through his hair. "Well, that was a nice little adventure," he remarked mirthlessly. Aviva gave a little laugh, relieved nervousness clear in its ring.

Suddenly remembering, Anakin went back into the rest of the ship and stopped in front of the escape pod door. "Drin, it's ok," he called. "You can come out."

He waited for a moment. There was no answer, and the door did not open.

"Drin? Come on! The pirates are gone."

Still nothing. Maybe Drin couldn't hear him. Perplexed, Anakin tried to open the door himself—but no matter how many times he pressed the button, nothing happened. About then, he realized what had happened.

"Oh, you are kriffing kidding me," he groaned to the door, which did not answer. He turned and went swiftly back to the cockpit.

"We've got to stop the ship," he said grimly.

"What? Why?" Aviva asked. Sitting down, Anakin took them out of hyperspace again. By now, they had left the pirates far behind. "Is there a problem?"

"Yeah," said Anakin shortly. "Drin jettisoned the pod, and although right now I'm tempted, we probably can't just abandon him."

"But it wasn't even ten minutes!" Aviva protested.

"Which is precisely the reason I'm tempted to leave him stranded. He probably panicked, the idiot." Anakin sat a moment, thinking, then set the new coordinates. "This might take a while longer than expected. We're going to Tatooine."