Before they went anywhere, Anakin retreated a few paces and commed Windu. His Master answered almost immediately.

"Anakin, do you have any news?"

Drin was out of earshot. "I found him, Master," Anakin replied. There was a pause on the other line.

"Is he all right?" Windu asked finally. Anakin, understanding the question as being double-sided, felt confident in his answer.

"Yes. I'm bringing him back to the Temple with me."

"Anakin…" The word held a sigh.

"Just talk to him—please. Maybe it's not as bad as you think."

Another sigh, this one out loud. "It's late, but I'm sure I can still call a decent Council meeting," Windu acquiesced. "We'll be waiting for you."

"Thank you, Master," Anakin said fervently. He could see Drin looking over at him anxiously, and cut off the connection. Without telling him what had been said, Anakin began the walk home, and Drin followed at his side.

When they reached the Temple and the Council Chamber, his pupil was visibly nervous. "Breathe," Anakin advised him, and then without another word stepped into the room. Drin had no choice but to follow hurriedly.

All too well Anakin remembered how, as a Padawan, the collective gaze of the Council had seemed to bore right through him, making him feel guilty and very, very small—so much more when he was actually in trouble. His sense of pity for Drin grew.

"So, Anakin," said Windu, presiding over the room like a judge, "Tell me why the Council is here."

"I know you plan to expel Drin," Anakin said. "With all due respect, Master, I ask the Council to reconsider this decision."

"It is not possible," said Adi Gallia, eyebrows arched sternly. "Padawan Audris has committed a serious offense against the Jedi by using the Dark Side to harm a fellow student."

"He is not as corrupt as you would believe," Anakin protested. "He is still young—he made a mistake."

"How can we trust him," asked Master Yoda, "if trust in the Council he does not?"

"It was a mistake," Anakin repeated firmly. "One that I believe he will not repeat. I would stake my life on that."

Windu looked faintly surprised at this. "You trust very strongly in this young Padawan, Anakin," he commented. "Is that not a dangerous assumption?"

"I do not assume," Anakin corrected him. "I have seen the facts and I act upon them, as I was taught. Nor am I blinded by my closeness to him: I was prepared to take this boy's very life as the Jedi required of me, had it been necessary. But I have watched him grow for the past four years, and I know that he has a good heart. Even when he strayed toward the Dark Side, he did it because he thought his actions would aid the Light."

"A good heart cannot erase his crimes," Windu said. "Nor can it erase all suspicion. How can the Council be certain that Padawan Audris is not an apprentice of the Sith, being taught by Count Dooku himself?"

They did not bother to mince their words. Anakin could sense Drin, already resigned to his fate, withering underneath the Council's righteous fury.

"The Jedi are the guardians of the universe," Master Gallia was saying. "It is a high and absolute calling. There can be no taint within the Temple."

"Forgive me, Master," said Anakin, "but I would consider lack of forgiveness to be a taint." He was growing angry. "If you were determined to expel every student within the Temple who ever made a mistake, you would have not one person left! How can it be justice if—"

He swallowed the words, knowing full well that he was dangerously close to overstepping his boundaries. There was no hope of winning this battle; instead, he retreated to his one ally. Anakin's eyes locked with Windu's.

"He deserves a second chance as much as I ever did," Anakin implored him. "You gave it to me."

Windu's gaze was heavy; then he spoke around Anakin. "Padawan Audris," he said, "you have said nothing in your own defense. Do you wish to be readmitted to the Order, despite your past offences?"

"More than anything I regret my past actions," Drin murmured. "I am sorry for my betrayal. I would be forever grateful if the Council consented to take me back."

Windu nodded. "Very well." Looking at his fellow members, he said, "I do not believe we need to hear anymore. We can make our decision now."

Nods of assent moved across the room.

"The Council will notify you when we have made our decision," said Windu. "It will be a while."

Anakin bowed in acquiescence, Drin as well, and they left the Council Chamber.

Windu had been quite serious when he had said that the Council's decision would be some time in coming. Drin was not summoned back later that day, nor the day after that. And while he still remained in Jedi/not-Jedi limbo, he had other things to attend to—like talking to his Master, and Aviva.

Anakin had offered to go with him, but Drin had turned him down, and Anakin didn't push. Ka'ela didn't seem to hold a grudge; Aviva, Drin admitted, had seemed otherwise.

"She said everything was fine, but she wouldn't look at me," he said worriedly. "And her face was all pale. Do you think—"

He stopped, and Anakin, tossing a paperweight from hand to hand as he sat on the couch, looked up to say, "Think what?"

"Do you think I could have hurt her?" Drin asked. "I mean, seriously hurt her."

Anakin shook his head. "She's a Knight, but she's still young," he said. "It may take her a while to forgive you. Don't worry; you've done all you can."

Conversation lulled for a moment, but Drin seemed still to be thinking. He sat on the floor, leaning against Anakin's wall and chewing his lip until the words inside his brain wouldn't be pent up any longer.

"How are you so different from me?" he blurted out. The question caught Anakin so by surprise that he nearly dropped the paperweight.

"What do you mean?" he asked, leaning forward in his seat. Drin sighed.

"You're not that much older than me. I know that. But look at me," he mourned. "I do stupid stuff like this. I nearly get myself thrown out of the Order. I disobey the Council. And you—you killed a Sith. You're the one the Council trusts when things are really dangerous. And you always know the right thing to say."

Of course, Anakin's immediate instinct was to deny this fact. But he hesitated. There was a difference, wasn't there, between the person he was now and the person he had been once? Slow, subtle changes in six long years had taken their toll, for better or worse.

"I don't know if you were aware of this or not," Anakin began, his voice halting, "but some years ago, my Master died. Master Windu took me on for the last year of my training."

Drin was nodding. "I know," he said. "I remember that."

"Master Kenobi—" Anakin broke off a moment, pressing the knuckles of his right hand to his lips as he thought, very hard, how best to convey the image of Obi-Wan to someone who had never known him. "Master Kenobi was the strictest, most perfect Jedi that ever existed. And he was like my father. He was always right, and he was always kind." He looked up to flash a grin at his pupil. "I used to be like what you were talking about, you know. Force, I was probably the most annoying teenager that ever lived, and you were right when you said I'd touched the Dark Side, but when he died…"

Anakin licked his lips. "This—is going to sound strange," he said, "but the universe needed someone like that. Someone like him, if not my Master himself. When he joined the Force, I had a choice. I came very close to falling to the Dark Side, but I chose instead to go the other way. To fill the hole that he'd left, if only a little. And the funny thing is, it was hardly even my choice." He grimaced. "It would probably make more sense if you knew him."

Drin's head was tilted to the side. "I think I do," he said quietly.

"Don't be glib," Anakin warned him, frowning, but Drin shook his head.

"I wasn't."

The Council called Drin back after two more days of deliberation. Anakin was not technically summoned, but it was assumed that he would come anyway, and he did. This time, though, it was Drin who stood in the very center of the star pattern tiled on the floor, and Anakin who stayed back.

"This has not been an easy decision for the Council," Windu told the boy.

"I thank you for your time," murmured Drin, his head bowed. Butterflies danced in his stomach—Anakin could feel them—but Drin did his best to quell their movements.

"Have you made your peace with Padawan Kenmur and your Master?" asked Windu.

"I have."

"That is well. Have they forgiven you?"

He hesitated. "I—I do not know, Master," he admitted. "I believe so, but I cannot say for sure. I hope that they have."

Windu nodded approvingly. "Good. Your honesty is to be commended. But I believe we have larger things at hand… No doubt you wish to hear of your punishment, for rest assured, there will be one."

Then Yoda spoke the magic words.

"Despite your offenses against the Jedi, Padawan Audris, chosen not to expel you, the Council has."

Drin's whole body shuddered with relief as the nearly physical weight was lifted from his shoulders. Anakin grinned.

"You understand that you are a special case," continued Windu—Drin nodded hastily—"and as such, certain precautions must be taken. The Council has discussed this and reached a consensus. The new year having only just begun, you will not be assigned nor allowed any missions until it has ended. You are to devote yourself instead in that time to the study of the Jedi Order and its philosophy, history, and teachings, to straighten the path onto which you have strayed. Master Brun will be responsible for holding you to this. Remember that if this is not obeyed, the Council will not be so lenient again."

"I understand," said Drin, swallowing. "Thank you—thank you, Master." He bowed and quickly exited the room. Anakin, however, did not follow. Instead, he stepped forward.

"I thank you, as well," he said. "I know you didn't want to give him a second chance, but I truly believe that he deserves it."

Windu shot a reciprocated glance at Master Gallia, as though they shared a secret, and then looked back at Anakin. That faint smile, visible only to those who knew him well, played once again at his lips.

"You know, Anakin," he said, "if something like this had happened only a few years ago, I would have thought that you had been a poor influence on the boy." He paused. "But as it is…I cannot help but thinking that you might have been the only truly good influence he had left."

It was with those bewildering words ringing in his ears that Anakin left the Council Chamber. Drin was waiting for him, eager and grateful.