Author's note: this chapter has been edited to erase some grammar and spelling mistakes

~ 9 ~

Rocky trails

- The first cut ist he deepest -

****** Coruscant, Senate building, the Chancellor's office

Palpatine sat alone, ensconced in his opulent chair, his gaze drifting across the sprawling skyline of Coruscant through the vast, luxurious windows of his office.

Kenshin Kano... his inquiries at the Jedi Council, under the guise of fatherly curiosity for the young Skywalker, had yielded little. He learned that the man held the rank of Jedi Master, despite his youth, and his intelligence agents reported that he was the celebrated "Hero of Gentora." None of this information was accessible to those not members of the Order, of course, but he had his ways. The Council justified their selection by wanting someone closer to Anakin's age to train him, as the boy's relationship with his previous, elderly Master had been strained.

Kano's appearance offered few clues. He was not particularly tall, although his impressive build suggested at least some proficiency in martial skills – some even held him as the greatest lightsaber duelist the Jedi currently knew; he had learned that much from Anakin himself. His demeanor was slightly brusque. When the man had stood in his office, Palpatine had sensed nothing, which was unsettling. Anakin's Force presence was as radiant as a supernova, while Master Kano seemed a void. Palpatine had met non-Force sensitives with a stronger aura. He couldn't determine whether this enigmatic Jedi Master posed a threat to his plans. One could never be too cautious.

Palpatine's gaze settled on a chalice displayed on his wall, one of the many handpicked, delicate artifacts adorning his office. An idea began to take shape in his mind.

****** Giju, wastelands

Desolation. The scenery vaguely reminded Anakin of the rugged mountains of Tatooine, though the temperature was a stark contrast. He felt cold, colder than the temperature alone could account for. The icy wind seemed to drain all energy from him, and his thoughts wandered to his mother—the one who had always been there, providing warmth and comfort. He hadn't seen her in eight years, and he missed her terribly. The memory nearly brought him to tears, but he held them back. He was a Jedi; he would not cry, especially not here, not now when Tesha or his Master might see. The last thing he wanted was for either of them to think he was weak.

Kenshin had predicted it would take them about two days of marching through the rough, rocky terrain. The medical supplies, tied up in three packs along with their own provisions, weighed heavily on them. In a way, Anakin was grateful for the exertion; it helped keep him warm. But as they walked, the burden seemed to grow heavier by the minute.

They covered the first stretch in darkness, moving away from the spaceport to avoid detection, and then rested for the remainder of the night. They continued their journey in daylight, with Tesha leading the group, Anakin in the middle, and Kenshin bringing up the rear. Anakin was reminded of a small caravan of Banthas forging its way through a desert. The desolate scenery did nothing to lift his spirits, and the weight of his pack felt more oppressive with each step. He didn't want to ask for a break, not when everyone else seemed to manage. Then he stumbled over a rock and landed hard on one knee, grunting as he struggled to get up.

"Give me your pack." Anakin looked up to see his Master, Kenshin, standing over him. He held back a curse, blushing with shame at being caught in a moment of weakness. This was the last person he wanted to see him falter.

I have to suck it up, kriff! Get up, dammit, he thought to himself.

"No, no, it's alright. I just tripped, there's no problem," he said, trying to sound convincing.

"Give me your pack," Kenshin insisted.

Anakin stared at him with resolve. "No. I'm part of this mission, and I will do my part. I will keep carrying it myself!" he protested.

"You're slowing us down," his Master said sternly, then added more gently, "Listen, those packs are heavy, even with the Force. There's no shame in accepting help to advance best as a team. I don't think any less of you for it."

"Tesha has no problem carrying hers!" Anakin retorted.

"Tesha is not wasting energy prioritizing her ego over the mission," Kenshin replied.

Begrudgingly, the teenager conceded. He was just removing his pack when he was abruptly and violently swept to the ground by a Force push.

"DOWN!" Tesha and Anakin heard two blaster shots following Kenshin's bellowed command. Two metal chunks the size of large human heads fell to the ground a short distance from the Jedi team. Kenshin scanned the sky for more threats, then charged toward the fallen droids, his blaster still in hand.

"What are those?" both Padawans asked as they ran to join him.

"Recon droids. Mangy, blasted bastards. Someone suspects we're here!" He began extracting the motherboards from the disabled droids, expressing his contempt with a stream of obscenities in both Basic and another language neither of the Padawan learners recognized.

"Master Kenshin, what are you doing?" she asked.

"Extracting the motherboards to salvage any data. I'll transmit the content to the Council once we set up camp for the night."

"Won't the transmission be noticed or jammed?" she asked.

"Not if you encrypt it properly."

"You know how to do that?" Tesha asked, astonished.

Kenshin gave her an offended look. "Apparently, he knows," Anakin shrugged. He looked toward the horizon, feeling a nudge in the Force.

"Master?" he said, "I think those droids have company!"

In that moment, both Kenshin's and Anakin's lightsabers ignited. Tesha's green blade followed a second later to help protect the three Jedi against a stream of blaster fire from two masked and armored humans on speeder bikes. Anakin felt a surge of energy within him, tuning out everything else. He knew what to do; his body moved on instinct. He somersaulted toward the attackers, his blade moving swiftly. Two dead bodies fell into the cold, arid dust at his feet as he landed. He stood there, panting, initially filled with elation at his successful strikes. Then realization hit him, and he gasped. He had just, without hesitation, taken two lives.

What have I done?

A wave of shock passed through him. All the bravado and swagger he usually carried vanished. This was real, not some combat simulation or practice droid. The attackers had intended to kill them and were killed in return. Yet something felt profoundly wrong. Guilt and regret overwhelmed him.

What have I done? Jedi defend; they never attack.

He dropped to his knees, his lightsaber falling from his grasp as he buried his face in his hands. Fighting the pirates on Vaquor, he had used possibly lethal force as well, but in the end, he had only injured, not killed. These attackers had been people with names, friends, families, possibly children. And he had taken that from them.

He felt a strong but gentle grip on his shoulder, pulling him up and pushing him to move. The three of them found a crevice to hide in and continued their travel in the dark to avoid another discovery. The next morning, at dawn, they finally stopped to rest. Kenshin set up a transmission to Coruscant while Tesha slept. Anakin couldn't sleep; he was still shaken. He crept away into a corner of the cave they had found. It was a fairly large cave, with traces of smaller animals. Save the small entrance hole, the cave could have accommodated a small starfighter and provided excellent protection from both the frigid winds and unwelcome eyes.

"Anakin. Are you okay?"

His Master's voice startled him out of his thoughts. He was not alright, not at all. He had taken two lives. He had known this would happen eventually, but now that it had, it felt all too real and terrifying. Not that he would ever admit it, least of all to the Jedi Master currently looking at him with concern. He felt so much, everything was so intense. What would his mother think of him now? Her face had appeared more often in his memories, thoughts, and dreams recently—serene and gentle, encouraging him to embrace his new, free life. A better life. What was he now? Free and powerful like he had imagined a Jedi Knight to be? He wasn't a Knight yet, and he missed his mother terribly. Had he made the wrong choice? His head was a storm of thoughts and emotions, more turbulent than ever. Kenshin would never understand. Anakin barely understood himself.

"Hmmm," was all he managed to say.

"Does this mean 'yes,' 'no,' or 'leave me alone'?" his Master asked calmly.

"The latter," Anakin replied more sharply than he intended.

Staring at the pebbles and dust beneath his feet, he only heard the older Jedi walk away, and saw from the corner of his eye that Kenshin's cloak was being tossed his way.

A few steps, and he settled down near the entrance of the cave. There was no hint in his expression whether he had taken offense at Anakin's harsh tone. Wrapping himself in the additional layer, Anakin felt a bit better. Still unable to sleep but warmer, at least. After some time, he realized he didn't want to be alone. Maybe he could talk to Tesha? No, she was asleep, and while she seemed nice, he didn't know her well enough to confide in her about things he was embarrassed did he dare wake her up. His eyes fell on Kenshin, who was sitting against a rock, staring into space. Apart from some armor covering his forearms, his muscled arms were bare. Anakin shook his head. How could his Master wear a sleeveless tunic in temperatures like this? Hesitantly, he stood up and walked over to him.

"Uhm... can I sit with you?"

"Sure," Kenshin replied, giving him a surprised look before staring into nothingness again as Anakin sat down next to him.

"How are you never cold, Master?"

"I didn't grow up on a desert planet. And you should sleep."

"Can't sleep."

"You're upset. It was the first time you killed someone."

"How... how do you know? I didn't invite you to read my thoughts!"

"I didn't read your thoughts. I can just sense your feelings. Taking a life is... it's not easy to deal with. If you want to talk, I'll listen."

"You're not easy to talk to, you know? You're..."

"Grim and annoying and not a very likable person. I know. That doesn't mean I don't care."

"Do you? I mean, do you care?"

"Yes, believe it or not."

Anakin searched for his words. Even though Kenshin seemed to know already, he still didn't want to admit how the attack and the killing had shaken him.

"What is it with that line, 'there is no emotion, there is peace'? I mean, that's not helpful at all!"

"It's a pile of bantha poodoo. You aspire control. But the Code as such neglects reality; it neglects the fact that emotions can't just be cast aside—they need to be acknowledged and dealt with. Peace only exists with passion to create, and passion needs peace to guide. We must never lust for power for its own sake, but it's a fact that we wield it. Knowledge needs the strength to act, and power the serenity to see."

"So it's about control, and fear, and anger, and everything. You say feeling emotions is natural and that the Code forbidding emotions is wrong, yet you say I must control them. How am I supposed to understand?"

"It's hard to understand, and it'll take you some time. Force knows it took me a while. There's not one Jedi who doesn't struggle with it. It's about choosing to face this struggle. It is this choice that makes us who we are. It's by accepting your feelings that you'll eventually be able to handle them and not be blinded by them. In order to be in control, you eventually have to let go. Once you understand that you don't need what you're clinging to, you'll be able to let go. That's called confidence."

"But I am confident!"

"No. What you're experiencing is just blind arrogance."

"That's not nice to say. And not true!"

"It is true, stop fooling yourself. And I'm not a nice guy, as you'd be the first to confirm."

Anakin spent a while in contemplation and finally said, "For once, you make sense, Master."

"There's a first for everything," Kenshin replied dryly.

"When you killed someone for the first time, what was it like? How did you handle it?"

All of a sudden, Kenshin froze and quickly looked away. For a long, awkward moment, he didn't speak. Noticing his Master's reaction, Anakin sighed. It looked like he had hit a sore spot again.

"I... I didn't handle it very well," Kenshin said at last.

****** Coruscant, 10 years earlier

The pain in Kenshin's heart was so immense and unbearable that he stopped noticing anything around him. Not the Jedi Knights of the extraction team who found him weeping beside Master Fay's dead body, gently pulling him away. Not the journey on the starship bringing the survivors back to Coruscant. Not the half-admiring, half-terrified looks and incredulous whispers about how a 13-year-old Padawan had bested and killed a dark side Force wielder in one-on-one lightsaber combat. It wasn't known where the group of attackers had come from, if they were fallen Jedi, devotees of a dark side Force cult, or something different altogether. They had been well trained in the use of a lightsaber, to an extend they had felln half of the Jedi and their team before they were stopped. Neither could anyone understand why a famine relief mission had been attacked. What had there been to gain?

By the time the Jedi shuttle arrived on Coruscant, his stream of tears had stopped, but he didn't hear anything, and he didn't speak.

Aerin Fay had been one of the purest, most revered Masters in the Jedi Order. Her views had often challenged the Council, but she epitomized peace and compassion, resolving military conflicts and wars without raising a weapon. Deciding she was not destined to teach, she had first chosen the life of a wandering Jedi, doing good deeds across the galaxy wherever she felt she was needed. Her exploits eventually brought her to Nanta. Legends spoke of a long-forgotten Jedi temple from millennia ago, and the Force urged her to search for it. On this journey, she found an extremely Force-sensitive human boy, an orphan raised in a monastery on this backwater world at the edge of the Outer Rim, outside Republic territory. Feeling a deep connection, she decided to train him despite her vow never to take a Padawan. The monks demanded the boy remain in the monastery until he was at least ten years old before being taken off-planet. Surprisingly, the Council allowed Master Fay to train the child under these conditions. Fay stayed on Nanta, training the boy in the ways of the Force. After his tenth birthday, she began to take him on missions to meet other Jedi and learn about the greater galaxy, but Nanta remained their base. She never took him to the Coruscant Temple. The boy was gifted with a soul and powers in the Force the Jedi would never understand. As the Masters at the temple now saw this mysterious apprentice, they had the impression of looking at a frightened, feral animal. It was impossible to tell if the boy was in shock, mute, or simply didn't understand Basic—even when directly spoken to, he didn't respond. He certainly didn't look like someone who had bested and killed a powerful dark side warrior, yet he had. At a loss, they left him with the other survivors for the time being. Every member of the mission was checked at the healers' wing and then sent to a dorm to sleep for the night, but the boy could find no rest. The pain felt like it would tear him apart. The sense of guilt, of failure. He had lost the person who meant most to him. He had been too slow, not good enough. He had not been able to save his Master. He couldn't live with that.

He was short and small for a 13-year-old, making it easy to sneak out of the dorm room. The temple guards patrolling the hallways should have sensed the boy stealing past them, but the young teenager instinctively drew the Force around him like a cloak. He wouldn't have been able to explain what he did or how, but it worked. When he passed someone, nobody felt even the slightest hint of a presence. He started to run aimlessly, speeding through corridors and aisles for what felt like hours. Finally, he found himself standing on a wide terrace, high up on the main temple building. There was a tree, and one could overlook a large area of Coruscant with millions of lights blinking in all imaginable colors and an endless stream of speeders and vehicles passing by in interlacing patterns. He clasped his hands tightly around the hilt of his lightsaber and ignited the blade. The pastel gold-greenish blade that had slain his Master's attacker gently glowed in the night as he held it up, tears streaming down his face again. An evil, Force-wielding warrior, much older, taller and stronger than himself and supposedly more powerful, had fallen from this blade, but only after the darksider had inflicted deadly wounds upon Master Fay. The woman who had helped raise him, who had been like a mother to him. He had been too late. Too slow, not skilled enough. He had failed.

"Sumimasen, Sensei!" Forgive me, Master.

Kenshin closed his eyes and turned the blade against himself.