Author's note: this chapter has been edited to erase grammar and spelling mistakes
~ 13 ~
Shadows in the Force
- As long as you don't know what you lack at heart, you cannot defeat your enemy -
"No. He never tells me anything about himself. Being overly open with other people, especially me, isn't his deficiency of choice. He said that there had been an interference with off-worlders on Nanta and that he was raised by an order of monks in the mountains here. That's all I know," Anakin explained, a hint of frustration in his voice.
"Interference with off-worlders. That's one way to put it," Aiko muttered, shaking her head and closing her eyes, as if reliving painful memories. "This planet had been a peaceful place for the longest time. The last real war was something we had only heard about from legends. And then the offworlders came. About five years ago - it wasn't such a long time ago. A large corporation, they call themselves the Trade Federation, took an interest in our planet. If you cut down the jungle, vast parts of the lands could provide suitable soil to grow a precursor for a potent drug, similar to glimmerstyll. You won't find anything about these events in public records; they are good at covering their tracks. I assume prospectors had somehow figured it out and smelled profit. Or maybe they were after something else, but Kenshin never found out their exact reason. Would the lands have been used for drug production, there wouldn't have been enough left to feed the people. We hunt in the jungles, we use the plains and parts of the mountains for rice fields and other crops; there wouldn't have been enough left of all of that. That's why our ruling queen wouldn't agree with the Federation's proposals. We didn't want any of what they promised. As a response, they occupied our world and took what they wanted by force. In a matter of two months, they had overthrown our queen and enslaved most of the population. Women, men, children, old and young were taken prisoners, villages and settlements devastated. They appointed a puppet regime that followed their orders to the letter, any resistance was violently crushed. What they promised was prosperity, security, wealth, and order to those who were willing to subordinate and follow them. But what they brought was nothing but suffering and repression. They had military forces, artillery, and every weapon imaginable. They killed my cousin. A squad of droids and mercenaries ravaged villages down in the plains to acquire slaves, and he set out with a small group of partisans to help the villagers. Nobody came back.
"We...we were suffocating in the grip the invaders had on us. Those were very dark times."
"The Trade Federation...they once occupied a world I helped defend, though I was still a kid at the time. What about the Republic? Would nobody come to help?" Anakin wondered.
"The Republic? Nanta wasn't even Republic space back then. Nobody cared! After the war, Kenshin had advocated for our Queen to join our world to the Republic, but before? This was lawless space. Even now, we are too small and insignificant of a system to even be represented in the Republic Senate. The Queen reached out to the Jedi, but the Senate wouldn't allow them to help us. We were a backwater world, a mudhole outside their reference. Only one Jedi came. Without knowledge of the Republic Senate and against the will of the Jedi Council!"
"And that Jedi was Kenshin."
"Yes. Our situation seemed hopeless. The Trade Federation had an entire army at their disposal. They even started constructing mines in parts of the mountains, extracting mineral ores. Their control posts were heavily guarded with assault droids, artillery, and land mines, enslaving even more of our people to work in those mines. Nanta has always been an isolated place at the edge of the galaxy that nobody cared about. This has always been a peaceful world. There was no army or military, not any technology level to speak of. Whatever conflicts arose on-world would be mediated or solved by the Hogosha, the mountain monks. The monastery where they took in and raised Kenshin when he was given to them as a foundling is only an hour's walk from here. In some ways, they resemble the Jedi, or what I know of the Jedi at least. They worship the Force, on an eternal quest to follow its will, keeping order and peace on Nanta and helping where they're needed. They're warrior monks, sword fighters. The way of the sword is what they believe in and train in their entire lives, as a means of living in balance and honor. As one-on-one combatants, they would probably give every warrior in the galaxy a hard time. As devastating as they can be as individual fighters, their ways are an ancient art not made to withstand the firepower of gunships and cannons.
"Kenshin formed an underground militia and helped rebel cells emerge everywhere. We couldn't attack and face the Trade Federation's firepower in the open, but with Kenshin's guerrilla tactics, our partisans could push back the occupation further and further. We stole their weapons to have something to fight with, we ambushed transports, attacked bases and outposts in the rear, and soon enough the Trade Federation's forces were terrified of the jungle they had tried to conquer. One by one, we were wearing them down. We found their weak points, ways, and places where our small squads had the advantage. Kenshin and I fought side by side in some of these operations, although most of the time he would operate alone. He would provide the strategies for our strike teams and then set off, sneak into the Trade Federation's bases to take down the leaders and destroy the outposts from within so we would have easier work. He was fast, striking without warning, and he always succeeded. That's why we called him Yashkaru. As elusive and as deadly as a demon. In Nantoa, the word for shadow and demon is the same. It was by his sword that the Trade Federation's imposed governor finally died. Kenshin is a hero to our people. He helped end a tyranny that ravaged Nanta for more than a year and would ultimately have led to the annihilation of our culture. When it was all over...Kenshin left. Eventually, I would receive a holo message once in a while. But he never came back. Maybe it has something to do with what his Master…"
"It's in the past. And it's not your story to tell!" a stern voice interrupted her.
"It absolutely is my story to tell, as much as it is yours!" she shot back. "We did what we had to do to save our world from destruction. We fought together, you, me, and all our sisters and brothers. We lost many, but in the end, we won. A small guerrilla army, a few partisans against the overwhelming firepower the Trade Federation threw at us, and we won. It was your hands, your sword, that led us to victory. But after that? Instead of celebrating and honoring what we achieved, instead of helping rebuild what was destroyed, you left, and in over four years, you haven't come back even once. We needed you. We wanted you by our side." With that, Aiko went inside, leaving Anakin and Kenshin alone on the porch.
Kenshin's gaze followed the young woman, then looked back into the distance. "I didn't want to come back here. I shouldn't have."
"But why, Master? I don't understand what's wrong. This is a beautiful world; people here love you. This is your home. A true home. I wish I had a place I could call home. You're a hero to these people. I've seen your name on a public monument in the planet's capital. Do you think I believed any of your half-assed excuses you gave me as answers to my questions?"
"I'm not a hero. You like the sound of that word too much. I was – am – an assassin, Anakin! Not a hero. A political terrorist. How do you think a small batch of partisans was so successful against an organization with a full-fledged military and an endless stream of funds to afford the latest military and security equipment? Not by diplomacy. It was acts of brutal terrorism and assassination missions. The people the Trade Federation had sent were enemies, yes. But they were still people. They didn't only deploy droids at the time, but actual people as well. People whose lives I took. I did things no Jedi should ever do. I am no peacekeeper. By the age of nineteen, I already had more blood on my hands than the galaxy's most infamous mercenaries. The things I did...I did it to save my homeworld and my people. But I have violated every single ideal the Jedi ever held dear. My Master was the epitome of peace and non-violence. I have betrayed her teachings. Not only could I not save her, but I have also betrayed what she stood for. I have failed!"
"I don't see anything wrong with what you did," Anakin said, his voice gentle yet firm.
"Everything here... everything reminds me of everyone I lost," Kenshin replied, his eyes clouding with sorrow.
"What happened to your Master?" Anakin asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
"I don't want to talk about it. Do not ever ask me again," Kenshin snapped, pulling up his hood and walking off into the twilight. Left alone on the porch, Anakin turned and went inside, finding Aiko pensively gazing at four swords resting on wooden fixtures attached to the wall.
When she noticed Anakin's presence, she took one of them off its holder. It was a breathtaking weapon, an exquisite katana with a matte black scabbard, adorned with an intricately painted purple flower and a dragon-like beast—a yashkaru—that seemed almost alive in its detailed craftsmanship. Aiko pulled the blade from its sheath with a soft, metallic hiss, revealing a curved, shimmering edge that caught the light and cast dancing reflections across the room. The blade seemed to pulse with an ethereal glow, hinting at a deep connection to the Force.
Between the hilt and the blade, a round, elaborately decorated guard was placed to protect the wielder's hand. It was etched with an intricate pattern of swirling clouds and lightning bolts, symbolizing both protection and the raw power of nature. The hilt itself was wrapped in a rich, black cloth, crisscrossed with fine, purple threads that created a diamond pattern, providing both beauty and a firm grip.
The katana was the most beautiful weapon Anakin had ever seen. As he looked closer, he noticed three characters engraved into the blade near the guard, their meaning unknown to him but resonating with ancient power and tradition. The entire sword exuded an aura of artistry and lethality, a perfect blend of form and function, crafted not just as a weapon but as a masterpiece of martial heritage.
Aiko held it up, encouraging Anakin to take it. As his hands touched the hilt, a strange and intense sensation rolled through his entire body. The blade seemed to glow faintly.
"Is it...?"
"Reactive to the Force? Yes. Much like a Jedi's lightsaber, it bonds with its wielder. This is the traditional type of sword the Hogosha use, probably for hundreds of years. They're deadly and mighty weapons in the right hands, and this one is made of a special alloy—blaster bolts or lightsabers cannot destroy it."
"I feel a connection to it. As if I had wielded it before. Why is that? I've never even seen something like it before. This planet is full of strange things."
"This entire world is strong with the Force. Many beings, sentients as well as beasts, are Force-sensitive. It even touches some non-living things, as you can feel."
"Why does it connect to me?"
"A Jedi Master and their apprentice share a bond, a connection to each other, don't they?"
"Usually, yes, but..."
"This sword belongs to Kenshin. That's why you feel a connection to it. This is the sword that helped win Nanta's freedom."
Anakin looked at the weapon with a mix of awe and ruefulness. "It doesn't feel like I share anything much with that guy, let alone a bond."
"Apparently you do."
Anakin gave Aiko a doubtful look and fixed his gaze back onto the sword. It wasn't as heavy as he thought it would be. The blade's metallic shimmer was mesmerizing. He went through some basic katas like he'd done with a lightsaber. The feeling of a weighted blade was unfamiliar, but it was surprisingly easy to wield. He went faster and faster, the sword smoothly following the guidance of his hands. The air seemed to sing as the sharp blade slashed through it.
A slight tremor in the Force rattled Kenshin out of the dense fog of his thoughts. It wasn't a menacing sensation, not at all. It was simply something that had stirred, nudged at his mind—something had woken up, and somehow Anakin was involved. Was he in danger? The Padawan was brash but cared for those around him, and he was always curious. His curiosity was endearing in a way. Kenshin had begun to take a liking to the seventeen-year-old, but that made him feel even more inadequate. He had sworn to protect him and help him as best as he could, but he could never be what Anakin wanted or needed him to be.
Deciding to check on the teenager before he got himself into trouble—again—Kenshin stepped into the house. His surprise was not a small one—he had never seen such serene concentration on his apprentice's face as he performed precise katas with a blade Kenshin hadn't seen in years.
"Your form has become more precise," he stated.
Startled, the boy nearly tripped over his own feet as he noticed his teacher's presence and sheepishly handed him the weapon. "Master! I'm sorry, Master."
"You haven't done anything wrong," Kenshin tried to reassure him as he took his old weapon. The tremor had been Anakin reviving the blade by wielding it. Why had he sensed it in that fashion? The blade seemed to vibrate for a moment as Kenshin closed his hands around the hilt. Old wounds were opening up again. He had abandoned the sword when he left his homeworld after the war, resolving never to wield it again, never to return, never to be reminded of his Master, the war, and what he had done—how he had failed his Master's teachings of peace when he committed what were, allegedly, war crimes. Could he have chosen a different path of action? Could he have spared the lives he had taken? Could he have somehow prompted the Republic Senate, the Jedi Council, to step in and protect this world from the Trade Federation's greed and let diplomacy resume? These questions replayed endlessly in Kenshin's head, but he never found an answer. Most probably, no. By the time the slow wheels of the Senate would have turned, his planet would have been consumed and deprived of even the last of its resources. That was the conclusion he had come to back then and still today, yet it didn't ease his remorse. To this day, the Council had no idea what had truly gone down.
The sword in his hands had been his weapon when he led the Nanta resistance. A fitting and more cruel weapon than a lightsaber would have been. This sword had brought the freedom of a world. The ancient, traditional blade, once gifted to him by the headmaster of the Hogosha temple, bore painful memories, but it had saved a world. Maybe it could protect the galaxy. He sheathed it and fastened the scabbard to his belt.
Steep, towering mountainsides opened up into a deep, vast valley, with majestic peaks harmoniously framing waterfalls and rivers, their silver lines weaving through a vivid tapestry of every imaginable shade of green. As the two Jedi followed the path leading upwards to the monastery, Anakin gasped, taking in the breathtaking view. Every place on this planet was so serene, so alive. Higher peaks in the distance disappeared into clouds, while colorful birds rose above the treetops in a flurry of vibrant feathers. What he saw was wild, untamed, and indescribably beautiful. The beauty of it all reminded him once more of Naboo, and a queen, now senator, he hadn't seen in many years.
The simple yet delicately constructed buildings of the monastery blended seamlessly with the surrounding nature, harmonizing with the jungle instead of disrupting it. A powerful sensation emanated from the monastery, the place humming with the Force. But it wasn't the familiar feeling Anakin knew from the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, saturated with the energy of the Light. Nor was it the malevolent presence of the Dark Side that he had encountered on other missions.
He shuddered at the memory of one particular encounter: Kenshin and he had been scouring through the ruins of an ancient Dark Side cult, trying to salvage artifacts that ransackers hadn't already taken. The whole place felt wrong, its atmosphere thick with dread. Anakin had voiced his discontent loudly to his master, complaining that their work was better suited for archaeologists, not Jedi. His rant was abruptly silenced when he suddenly fell through a rotten wooden trap door, sliding fast through a narrow, sloped tunnel. At the end, he was greeted by a hungry tuk'ata, a Sith hound. The creature's physical attack was ferocious, but the dark energies wafting off of it were even more terrifying. Kenshin, who thankfully hadn't lost any time following his Padawan's unfortunate plunge, hadn't tried to bond with it but instead opted for his lightsaber to settle the problem. Anakin's own weapon had been lost during the fall, later returned to him by Kenshin, who gave him a look of reproach that was worse than any spoken rebuke.
The sensation Anakin felt now was neither the bright presence of the Light nor the underlying threat of the Dark. The Force felt strong and alive, familiar and strange at the same time. Anakin had always felt it as a bright, blazing fire, or in rarer moments, a calm pond of water. On Nanta, it was bright but also dark, yet the darkness didn't feel threatening. It felt like a reassuring balance.
A long set of stairs led to the temple entrance, where an older man awaited them at the top. He was clad in a dark grey tunic and equally dark, wide, skirt-like trousers, with a sash slung around his waist carrying two swords, one significantly shorter than the other. Kenshin bowed deeply in greeting, and the man gestured for them to follow. No words were spoken as they crossed a large courtyard where several groups of men, boys, and a few girls were training with various weapons. One pair in particular caught Anakin's attention: a young boy, maybe seven or eight years old, fighting an older combatant twice his size. The boy was brutally beaten, kicked, thrown into the dirt, and hit repeatedly until he barely moved. Only then did his opponent relent.
"Master!" Anakin exclaimed and hectically gestured towards what he saw "We need to stop that; he's going to kill the child!"
"They're just training," Kenshin replied calmly.
"THAT is training?"
"And you thought your training at the temple was hard," he commented dryly.
Anakin had indeed thought Kenshin's training regime was excessively intense and demanding. Kenshin imposed it on himself too, but while his Master happily indulged in this special form of masochism, Anakin definitely didn't share his idea of fun. No other Padawan had to endure as many or as intense sessions as he did.
"But that is crazy! You are insane!" Anakin protested.
Kenshin just gave his Padawan a pitying look. "Maniac," Anakin muttered under his breath.
The old man who had welcomed them stepped in front of Kenshin and drew his sword, pointing it at the Jedi Master. It was the same kind of curved blade as the one Kenshin now carried at his side. Kenshin inclined his head in a polite bow and accepted the challenge. What followed was a ferocious and lightning-fast duel. Within a split second, Kenshin had drawn his own blade to block the older man's attack. A flurry of strikes was exchanged at a rate the eye couldn't follow. Anakin watched, his mouth agape. He now understood why Kenshin's skill as a swordsman so easily surpassed anyone at the Jedi Temple. This was something else entirely. The two combatants circled each other before attacking again with a rapid series of strikes. Finally, Kenshin deflected his opponent's sword, twirled around, and had his blade at the old monk's throat.
The monk smiled and nodded approvingly. Kenshin bowed deeply in respect and stepped back. Then, the still-drawn blade was pointed at Anakin. The monk, though less than average height, had a commanding, intense presence. Anakin's and the man's glances met, and instantly, he felt very exposed. The man was scrutinizing him, and he couldn't shield himself. He sensed the monk in the Force. He sensed everyone in the yard. Force-wielders, just like Aiko had described them. Anakin's heart sank.
The piercing eyes of the old man made the teenager feel uneasy. He felt that whatever weaknesses he had, he wouldn't be able to hide them. And what should he fight with? His lightsaber? A gentle nudge pulled him out of his thoughts, and he saw Kenshin offering him his own sword.
Accordingly, the match was over quickly, ending with Anakin's defeat. To his surprise, he found the old man looking at him with approval.
"Your Master trains you well, young Jedi," he said in broken Basic, laughing heartily.
"But... you defeated me," Anakin said, dumbfounded.
"You were not expected to win. As long as you don't know what you lack at heart, you cannot defeat your enemy. But you are not stupid. You can learn."
"The man you have just dueled is Hiro Seijuro, the head and swordmaster of this monastery. It was he who taught me the way of the sword," Kenshin finally introduced the monk.
"Welcome back, Kenshin. I sense you did not come only to instruct your apprentice. What brings us the honor of your visit?" Hiro asked.
"I need your help, Sensei," Kenshin replied.
Kenshin briefly explained how they had found the holocron and the artifact, and what they knew about it so far. "We need to find this Jedi temple, if it existed. But I am sure that it did."
"I may have something that could answer some of your questions," Hiro said, leading the two Jedi to a stone building that housed a library. Instead of data terminals and screens, the walls were covered with wooden shelves. Paper rolls and actual books occupied every available surface, save for some wooden desks meant for studying the old tomes. Anakin had seen paper before, but never touched any. Nearly everything in the Jedi Archives was digitized.
Hiro walked to the far end of the room and took a wooden case off a shelf, handing it to Kenshin. He cleared his throat, his voice growing somber as he spoke. "This is everything Master Fay collected during the time she spent with us. She asked me to give this to you one day, when you were old enough. I never felt when the right moment would be. Then there was the war, and you never came back. I hope it is not too late."
Kenshin didn't say anything. He took the box, his hands trembling in a premonition of what he was about to face. One by one, he placed the contents onto one of the empty desks. There was a hand-drawn map, notes, descriptions, and a holocron. The Jedi briefly scanned the papers, then took the holocron and disappeared. When he came back, he put the holocron back onto the table, pausing for a moment. His face was ashen. Anakin didn't need the Force to sense that Kenshin was upset. Shaken. The young Master left the room before the teenager had a chance to inquire about what had happened. Not that he had expected an answer anyway. At a loss, Anakin turned to Hiro, who wordlessly activated the holocron, and a holographic figure of a woman in Jedi robes appeared. She was of a humanoid species, the only particularity being pointy ears, and had intense, bright eyes and long, wavy hair. The figure began to speak.
'My beloved Padawan,
When this message reaches you, I will be long gone and I will not have gotten the chance to tell you all this in person. As I am recording this, you are brave and talented, but still too young to face what I fear to be a dark, dangerous threat. I came to this planet to find and study the ancient Jedi temple that only legends and rumors still had record of. What I first found was you, which I thanked the Force for a thousand times. I continued my search and eventually I found signs of terrible events that took place what must be at least 2000 years ago, if not before. From what the legends say, a Jedi ship once landed on this planet, and the Dunari, the civilization that lived on this world in ancient times, welcomed them. Together, they built a temple as a place of worship and knowledge, to enrich and learn from each other. A shaman I met spoke of an artifact, created by priests and Jedi together, to be used to channel the Force and make all life on this world prosper. But one day, new off-worlders arrived and everything was destroyed. The Dunari were driven to extinction by a cause that is yet unknown, and the Jedi were never heard of again. Some tales were told speaking of a great darkness, dark sorcerers that came and caused the end of this era of peace and knowledge. There are no records of it in the archives on Coruscant. I only found vague mentions and more tales. But I sensed an urge in the Force, I was meant to come here. Eventually, on one of my recent explorations, I did find something. The site of an enormous battle.
The maps and descriptions I gave Sensei Hiro to safeguard indicate its location. Something terrible happened on this world, the remnants and fragments I found being the last signs of what ended a civilization and wiped out the Jedi on this planet with it. An evil force unleashed its power. After I found the battle site, I tried to proceed and find the temple, or what is left of it. But I couldn't. I encountered a vergence of the Dark Side. I tried to fight and overcome it, but it engulfed me, entangled me in a terrifying embrace, and it took all the strength I had to break free from it. Had I continued to fight it, it would have pulled me too close, it would have corrupted me. I fear this strange barrier is the remains of a Dark Side ritual, and I was not strong enough to fight it. I was facing my nemesis; I was no longer in control of myself.
The Force is warning me not to step over this boundary, and it is warning me of a threat that is hidden in those jungles. It has been lying covered for two thousand years.
You are special, my Padawan. I believe you have a gift that sets you apart from other Jedi, a gift that will enable you to face this threat and protect the galaxy from it. There is a power in the Force that is unique to this world, and you have inherited it. I see the beginnings of its manifestations in you. You will once be able to truly face the darkness and prevail. You are like a being of twilight, a specter in the Force. You can walk the paths of both dark and light without ever belonging to either side. It is a rare power, and it is not as such good or evil. Dark or light, bad or good come not so much from the Force itself, but from the one who wields it. Dark and light are natural parts of the universe, and you still will have to learn to tell evil from good. It is the culture of your people to understand this as a natural balance, but people outside will fear you, or try to use and corrupt you. The Jedi will fear you. The Hogosha would not allow me to take you off-planet to be raised at the Jedi Temple, and I could soon see why. Once I understood what you are, I agreed with them. Your gift will not make life easy for you. But you will succeed where I have failed.
When you decide to set out on this search, to complete this task, I urge you to be careful, Kenshin! I have seen you cast aside any regard for yourself to save and help others. You must remember that your own life is worth preserving too!
I hope that destiny has been kind to you. I imagine you have grown into a brave Jedi Knight, known for his kindness as much as for his skill and the speed of his sword. Just remember, do not only follow the way of the sword, but follow your heart too.
Our code tells us to forsake emotions, but it is your kind, strong heart that makes you who you are.
I wish I could see the man that you are now. Even of the apprentice that you've been, that I had the honor of training, I could not be prouder. You have been like a son to me. I love you.
The Force will be with you, always.'
Anakin sat still, his heart pounding as the holographic image of Master Fay faded away. Her words echoed in his mind, filling him with a mix of awe and confusion. The message was a revelation, a window into the past that hinted at just how devastating of a loss Kenshin had gone through. The holocron revealed little, however, about the mystery to be resolved. If anything, he found it cryptic. Dark side rituals, that could wipe out a civilization, Kenshin having a unique alignment with the Force, danger, and a threat still luring in the depths of the jungle…..
His glance fell on the elderly monk.
"Sensei," he asked, using the title he had heard Kenshin use for the monk, "do you know what happened to her? Kenshin would never tell me."
The monk's expression remained serious and solemn. "Your Master must tell you himself if he chooses to. When he is ready. I fear, he is not"
He still decided to go find Kenshin. Hiro sent Anakin to a meditation circle in the woods, not far from the monastery. Following the narrow, sinuous path, he quickly found the spot—a small plateau with ancient trees near the mountain's peak, offering an even wider and more spectacular view than from the monastery. A circle of fist-sized stones was laid out in the grass. At the edge of the circle, a figure wrapped in his cloak was curled up, shaking. Weeping. Tears flowed in streams down Kenshin's face. Anakin was shocked to see his Master like this. He had seen him angry, resolved, standing up against the Council, and cold and calculated in battle, never backing down. But he had never seen him so …destroyed.
Master Fay had died ten years ago. Kenshin had said he betrayed her teachings. He had helped save and free this world and then left it—a place where people loved him, that was his home. Maybe he didn't need to know much about his Master to learn from him. But he wanted to know him. He wanted to understand him. He knew Kenshin cared about him—in his own, sometimes weird way, but he cared. Anakin felt they had been thrust together, both initially unwillingly, yet Kenshin had done what very few Jedi had done. Kenshin gave a damn about him. Anakin wanted a chance to give back, to care about Kenshin too.
The Nantoan finally noticed the teenager's presence. "Go away."
"Don't you want to talk about it?" Anakin asked.
"I said, go away."
"I want to help you, Master!"
"Who says I want help? No one can help me!"
"I'm your Padawan. We're supposed to be there for each other. I can be there for you too, you know?"
"It's in the past. It's just the pain that's still alive."
"Whatever that means," Anakin muttered to himself. His Master had already retreated back into himself, shielding his emotions to the point that only his physical form hinted he was there, staring blankly into the distance for Force knew how long. An hour, or two? Impossible to tell. At last, Kenshin stood up and settled in the middle of the circle, eyes closed. Anakin decided to follow suit. He knelt down next to his Master and centered himself in the Force.
At the Coruscant Temple, or anywhere else for that matter, meditation was hard for him. The fire inside him was constantly burning, a blindingly bright, gleaming flame—powerful but restless. On Nanta, he could literally hear the Force sing and swirl around him, enveloping him. The Force felt unusual, but strong and nurturing in this place. Dynamic, but balanced in its own way. More alive than he had ever felt it anywhere else. The stone circle was a sacred venue the monks destined for meditation, and it did indeed feel like a focal point with the Force cumulating into a dense cloud. Anakin gave himself to it, reveling in its soothing embrace. For a time that seemed endless and effortless, he listened to the song of the Force. He sunk deeper into the depths of his own mind. Eventually, something called him, like a voice. It was unsettling, and at the same time irresistibly tempting. It didn't pronounce any words, yet it promised him everything he had ever wanted. The call became slowly stronger and more intense, more commanding and intriguing, and Anakin let himself be lured in. Then the sweet siren call abruptly turned into a devilish, commanding grasp. Anakin tried to break free, but he couldn't. He wanted to scream, and cry for help, yet his voice was cut off, he couldn't breathe, he had a sensation of being strangled. He tried to scream again, yet no sound came.
He was falling. It was frightening, cold, and dark. He couldn't see, and the pull became stronger and stronger. Claws were reaching for him, threatening him, grasping him. He fought with everything he had. He screamed, arms and legs flailing wildly, until something stopped his fall. He felt something envelop him, like a protective wall suddenly surrounding him. The power that was pulling at him, trying to grasp him, was now opposed and fought by a new presence, relentless and adamant. He had felt that presence once before, in a dream. The dream where a demon with purple glowing eyes had saved him from an attack that would have been his undoing.
And then the darkness around him became lighter, and he was released from its horrifying grasp. He gasped for air, panting heavily. He felt the ground beneath him, his hands touching pebbles, grass, and sand. He was still in the meditation circle, a gentle breeze caressing his forehead. He had not left the place. Not physically at least. Kenshin was still where he had been before, the firm, serious gaze of his dark eyes now fixed on him.
Wide-eyed, he stared at his mentor. He still trembled.
"What happened, Master?" he pleaded. Help me understand. I'm so scared. "Please tell me you know what happened! What was it that I felt?"
"It was you" Kenshin replied, with a severity and gravitas that did little to reassure him.
"Me?"
"What you felt was your own power. The darkness within you, and a glimpse of what it could do if you don't control it. You felt it. And you fear it.
Chosen one or not, you do wield great power. You must learn to control it. Otherwise it will destroy you. And everything around you!"
"What do you mean?" Shivers ran down his spine. He felt so small, so powerless in the face of the darkness he had encountered. "How can I ever understand?" he added with a small voice.
"In order to control yourself you must first accept yourself by going with and not against your nature."
"That...that doesn't make any sense" Anakin cried out.
Kenshin sighed.
"You have much to learn. You must become aware of who you are. Accept who you are. Use your strengths, know your weaknesses. Accept both. Just like you must accept that there is light and dark to the Force, both the light and darkness are natural parts of ourselves and the universe. You must not fear the dark. It's what you choose to do that defines you."
"I have never sensed the dark side of the Force like that before. Master, help me!"
"The dark side is not evil, people are. The light side of the Force is not good, people are. The evil in you, your dark side, was calling to you. It is calling every Force wielder. You answered its call, you gave in to its lure. You don't yet understand its nature."
"Then make me understand!" he begged. "How are you not scared? What are you? How can you not fear the dark side?"
"I seek to understand it. Knowing the dark side doesn't mean succumbing to it. The darkness is not of the Force, but of the Force wielder. A way to rationalize away a person's ability to truly be evil in their heart. It's the way of the Sith, the lust for power, the evil and suffering they bring upon everything they touch that I have sworn to fight. The terrors, the death, the tyranny their way entails. It's this pain, this suffering that I have felt, that no being should ever have to feel, that I have to protect the galaxy from. It takes strength to resist the way of the Sith, the evil within ourselves. The weak, or the unexperienced, embrace it. Ultimately, it's a choice, the choice to face our own darkness, that makes us who we are."
**** unknown location, three and a half years earlier ********
Kenshin had lost count of how many times he had passed out from the sheer agony of Force lightning scorching his body. The unrelenting darkness of the retention cell distorted his sense of time—days, weeks, even months blurred into an indistinguishable haze. Shackled and constrained, he had no way of knowing which planet he was on. Meals came at irregular intervals, barely enough to keep him alive. Torture droids injected him with flesh-eating maggots that he killed off with the Force, and various poisons he purged from his system, unbeknownst to his torturer. The droids jolted him awake every time he drifted into restless sleep. Only when his captor blasted him with Force lightning to the point of unconsciousness did he find a semblance of physical rest. The worst moments, however, were when the dark sider forced his presence into Kenshin's mind, an excruciating pain beyond any physical torment. The darksider sought to break his will.
After the battle of Gentora, the shock of losing his best friend had left Kenshin devastated, leading him to become reckless. On a quest for Sith artifacts—a means to numb his mind rather than a service to rid the galaxy of dangerous objects—he scoured dangerous places, smuggler dens, and ancient Sith temples until he was eventually captured. His captor revealed himself as a dark lord named Darth Nexon.
Maybe not truly a dark lord, he was undeniably skilled in the use of dark Force powers. Nexon sought to forge Kenshin into a tool, a servant—though he used the word "apprentice"—to help him overthrow his dark master. Sidious, he called his master, but he revealed little else.
Was Sidious the elusive Sith Lord the Jedi Council sought? Was this Sidious behind everything, even the mysterious attacker who had taken his Master's life? Kenshin realized this was a chance to uncover the truth. The voice of Master Fay echoed in his mind, her presence strong and clear despite her death. 'You are strong, my Padawan. Believe in yourself, Kenshin!' He couldn't fail now.
Retreating into himself, Kenshin cloaked his presence and concealed his true strength. He was the shadows. He was the storm. His power was a rare one. He could cloak his Force signature so thoroughly that no one, no matter how strong with either side of the Force, could sense it. He could also conceal his biosigns so well that life-form scanners would not detect him. Few Jedi had witnessed these abilities, and those who had were wary of him. What Kenshin was capable of couldn't be of the light side, they thought. A being that could disappear at will. His particular aptitudes had served him well in his years as a spy and tracker, a power that now enabled him to hide his true nature from the dark lord.
Undeniably, he was in a very bad physical state. Even a Jedi could withstand such brutal torment for only so long. But he was not as weak as he made his captor believe. In the Force, Kenshin cloaked the flame of the ardent pain that burned since the day Master Fay had died—a flame that hurt him but also gave him strength. He cloaked the small flame of light that had been born later, when he finally understood that he had a purpose, that he had no right to dishonor his Master's memory by giving up. His motivation was not revenge, but a duty. No matter how painful, he had to live to protect and defend the galaxy from this threat. The Sith who tried to corrupt him would fall. Unbeknownst to Nexon, Kenshin gently probed his mind.
The dark lord sensed his prisoner's mental resistance weakening and believed he had finally broken Kenshin. In the back of his mind, Nexon felt a twinge of regret. He had wasted his time. He had believed the Jedi to be more powerful, suitable material for a potent apprentice. And a powerful apprentice he needed to overthrow his own master, or as he would have put it, the being he was enslaved to.
Nexon's lips curled into a contemptuous smile that froze as he sensed something like a tiny explosion in his head. Moments later, as he died, he comprehended the full force of the power he faced. It was not the Jedi who had been weak. It was he who had been deceived. In the Force, Kenshin had secured his grasp on Nexon's mind, tightening his mental grip to control the Sith Lord's spirit and force him to reveal everything he knew about the interweavings of darkness and guile. Some being far more powerful, subtle, elusive, and dangerous was pulling strings from the shadows. Darth Nexon knew who it was or at least how to find Sidious, the Sith Master. Despite Kenshin's efforts to manipulate and twist the dark sider's spirit, Nexon's mind hadn't revealed who this master was. When the Jedi finally tightened his grip, increasing the pressure to extract the information, it was too much. Darth Nexon's connection to the Force was suddenly severed, his mind crushed. Lifeless, the body fell to the ground. The Sith had collapsed, not strong enough to withstand the mind probe. Kenshin cried out in frustration. He had not meant to kill him, and now his only source of information was gone, his efforts in vain. In the dark lord's mind, he had seen prognoses of utter terror, war, and untold suffering. Darth Nexon had harbored atrocious, cruel ideas, a reawakening of dark realms that had ended thousands of years ago. A new Sith empire, a recalling of dreads of old, reimagining the empire of Vitiate. Those were his aspirations once he overthrew his master. Now, he was a mere accumulation of meat and bones, his life, his spirit ended by something worse than simple physical death.
Freed, Kenshin returned to the Jedi Temple. He was not welcomed with open arms but met with distrust. After all, he had disappeared without a trace. Arriving on Coruscant, he learned he had been gone for over half a standard year. Once his physical wounds were healed, Yoda conducted a mind search and deemed him still true to the light. Kenshin reported everything he knew to the Council. Having killed a dark lord and resisted the lure of the dark side, Kenshin was granted the rank of Master. An honor he did not appreciate in its meaning—he had stopped caring about status, the Jedi and their judgment long ago—but accepted. It would finally give him access to the restricted knowledge in the Jedi Archives. Knowledge he needed. The hunt was far from over.
******* Nanta, Hogosha monastery, in the now
"A choice..." Anakin said. "Just a choice. You make it sound so easy!"
"Nowhere did I say it was easy. The way of the Jedi is not an easy one. I understand that," Kenshin replied, his voice carrying a weight of experience and pain.
"You do?"
"Yes, I do! There are no easy answers. Even I can't give them to you. All I can do is try and guide you, and walk that path with you."
"You're truly different from most Jedi."
"Different. That's one word for it. They hate me, they fear me, they despise me. I am a useful tool, but the reality is, I am an outcast. I break rules. I think many Jedi have lost their way. You know what Yoda told me when my Master died? 'Death is a natural part of life. Rejoice for those who transform into the Force. Mourn them do not. Miss them do not'... I was 13 years old!"
Anakin felt a pang of sympathy for his Master, understanding for the first time the depth of Kenshin's isolation and pain. "And yet, you have never thought of leaving the Order?"
"I have thought about leaving so many times. As part of the Order, I am stronger than I would be alone. I have access to more resources. But I do not agree with much of what they say, and Yoda knows that. When they called me back to Coruscant, I thought the Council was finally going to expel me. Instead, they made me take you on as Padawan."
"They didn't tell you you were going to train me?"
"No, I learned about it the same moment you did, in the Council chamber."
"Kriffin hells, that's mad."
Kenshin stood up and walked to the edge of the cliff, the wind playing with his cloak as he stood motionless, lost in thought. Anakin watched him, a mixture of admiration and concern in his eyes. He had never seen his Master so vulnerable, so human.
The quest of finding the ancient Jedi temple in the jungle presented some major issues: The jungles were dense and impassable for the most part, rendering travel on the ground impossible and landing a ship equally so. The alternative didn't delight Anakin at all. His Master had mentioned riding flying mounts.
The two Jedi stood side by side on an elevated spot above a tall cliff, their eyes following a pair of birds on the far horizon. The birds grew larger as they approached. Their wings looked strange. Anakin's eyes widened. Those were not birds. Those were—yes, what exactly? Flying lizards? The beasts had sleek, scaled bodies and a majestic appearance; the larger of the two must have had a wingspan of nearly 20 standard meters. Circling above the spot where the two humans stood, they drew closer and closer, finally touching down uncomfortably close. With a yelp, Anakin leapt back under the protective crown of a nearby tree, his hand dropping to his lightsaber. Kenshin remained standing, motioning for him to stay calm. The Jedi Master stretched out his hand, and both beasts came to sniff it, as if to greet him.
"Meet your new friend," Kenshin said, gesturing toward the smaller reptile. "We call them arashi. They can carry a human on their backs, and we will need them to get us across the jungle when we search for the temple."
"Honestly, Master, I might prefer to walk. Or take speeder bikes."
"Good luck with that. The jungles are too dense to pass through for the most part. It would take us months to cover what the arashi can in only a few days. You've never been to Onderon, have you? The Nantoans are not the only people riding airborne mounts."
"I'm really supposed to ride one of these? Kriff!" Anakin's heart sank. Machines, he understood, but beasts? He was reminded of his last experience with beast control. On the bright side, an arashi was not a gundark trying to eat him. At least he hoped it wouldn't try to eat him.
"I thought you were good at flying. Best pilot in the galaxy?" Kenshin said, mounting the larger of the two arashi. With a few flaps of its massive wings, he was gone.
Anakin looked at 'his' beast, and it looked back at him. Timidly, he caressed its nose. "Uhm, hi, I guess?" Anakin reached out into the Force, hoping to sense something, anything that could help him. That was what he was supposed to do, wasn't it? Carefully, he climbed onto its back, his hands searching for something to hold on to.
"WHOOOOAAAAAAA!" he screamed as the winged lizard rocketed off the cliff, sending Anakin tumbling back onto the plateau. Cursing in all the languages he knew and rubbing his back, he managed to stand up. He'd probably be all bruised by tomorrow and sore to no end—if he survived the experience at all. Kenshin returned and called the beast back for the Padawan to try again. Several more attempts followed, all in vain.
They spent several more days like this. In the mornings, Kenshin tried to teach Anakin how to interact with his arashi, with little to no progress and both Master and apprentice growing increasingly frustrated. Anakin would not admit it, but he was more than wary of the 'winged worms' as he called them. They were wild, had their own unpredictable minds, and he never managed to stay on their backs when they started to move. He didn't understand why they couldn't just use a starfighter, and Kenshin explained that there was nowhere to land a ship, not even one as small as the Kage.
The afternoons were spent in the training yard, where Anakin got another taste of what speed and precision in sword fighting really meant. From the little Kenshin told him, he learned his Master had begun this training at the age of two, much younger than when Jedi younglings would begin combat training. Which meant Kenshin had wielded some form of sword for 21 years by now, the first ten years of his combat training under the regime of these crazy mountain monks. The martial prowess of the Hogosha with their swords, spears, or even hand-to-hand combat would have put even a Mandalorian to shame. And most Jedi, although Anakin fared a lot better here than he did with the flying mounts.
Kenshin didn't understand what Anakin's problem was. The arashi were living beings; one could form a connection with them, interact with them—it was a lot easier than learning the controls of a ship. But obviously, his stubborn, bantha-headed apprentice thought otherwise.
"A grumpy gundark trying to teach me to ride a flying lizard. Great! Tell me, Master, how is that supposed to work?" Anakin ranted, frustration evident in his tone.
"It would help if you bonded with them! They're not tools or machines, they're living beings!"
"Bonding? They're animals!" Anakin exclaimed. "How am I supposed to bond with them? Let alone ride them!"
The smaller of the two arashi nudged Anakin as if to scold him, and the Padawan stumbled and fell onto his butt.
Kenshin tried to hide a smirk. "How are you supposed to bring balance to the Force when you can't even bring balance to your own feet!"
"Very funny, Master!" Anakin retorted, his face reddening with embarrassment. "I'm not made for beast control!"
"Animal kinship, Anakin, not beast control."
Kenshin grabbed Anakin's hand and yanked him back onto his feet, then placed Anakin's hand onto the arashi's nose. Anakin had decided to name the beast Stoopa, a Huttese insult, as he became more and more frustrated with that particular arashi and his fruitless attempts to handle it. The animal didn't seem to be bothered by the unflattering name. Anakin first reluctantly, then more willingly, opened himself to the Force and finally sensed the arashi's presence. It was friendly, a bit bugged maybe—Anakin had climbed onto and fallen off its back a few dozen times—but at heart a friendly and curious being. Finally, Anakin's curiosity grew, and he caressed the beast's mind in the Force. Slowly, he climbed onto the animal's back once more, careful not to lose the fresh bond that had just formed.
As Stoopa took flight, Anakin's heart pounded with a mix of fear and exhilaration. The initial scare quickly wore off, replaced by waves of pure joy. Trees and rock spires rushed past far below as the arashi rose higher and higher. The river opening divided the jungle, and moist rice fields at its banks came into view. His mount dove, speeding just above the water before regaining height. He could now see the village of Wataro and the monastery as a miniature world beneath him. He was flying, truly flying! This was unlike a starfighter, unlike a podracer, unlike any craft he had piloted. He felt the wind ruffle his short hair as the arashi drew circles and dove and rose at a blissful, breathtaking speed. He felt so alive! This, this was freedom!
The second arashi, with Kenshin on its back, reappeared. "Race you back to the monastery!" he called out, his voice filled with a rare hint of playfulness.
"Not a chance you win this, Master!" Anakin responded, a competitive grin spreading across his face. He gently touched Stoopa's mind and encouraged it to go faster and faster, feeling the bond between them strengthen with every beat of the arashi's wings.
Anakin kept his word. He was the first to arrive back at the monastery, his heart soaring with triumph and newfound confidence.
A blissfully colorful sunrise painted the valley and the monastery in strong, orange-pink tones. The two Jedi and Hiro, who had come to see them off, stood by the meditation circle. The air was filled with a sense of anticipation. It was time to embark on the journey they had come here for in the first place. The two arashi flapped their wings, seeming excited about the adventure that lay ahead.
The journey began with the arashi gliding gracefully into the morning sky, the monastery shrinking below them. They flew for an entire day, the vast expanse of the jungle endlessly stretching beneath them. They witnessed the untamed beauty of Nanta from above, its dense jungles and winding rivers a mesmerizing sight. The further they went, the more the Force sang an inaudible song, a strange, swirling feel that grew stronger the further they traveled. It seemed to hum with an eerie resonance, a constant reminder of their purpose.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, they found a rock ledge just large enough for the arashi to land on. The nights on Nanta were cold, and it became a recurring ritual for Kenshin to wordlessly toss Anakin his cloak each night, which he accepted with a grateful nod.
"There," Kenshin said on the third day, pointing towards a grassy field below. "It must be there. The place my Master indicated." The field was dotted with ancient, gnarled trees that seemed to have died long ago. The arashi circled lower, their powerful wings stirring the air before landing gently on the ground.
Anakin dismounted, a strange, menacing sensation washing over him. He glanced at Kenshin, who nodded, confirming that he sensed it too. The Force was heavy here, filled with echoes of the past.
"Do you sense it, too?" Anakin asked, his voice barely a whisper.
"Yes," Kenshin replied, his eyes scanning the desolate landscape.
Not entirely sure what they were looking for, the two Jedi began to search the area. The ground was littered with debris and broken parts of ancient weapons. Anakin's heart raced as he uncovered a lightsaber hilt, its surface marred by time and battle. He tried to activate it, but the blade flickered and died immediately, a ghostly remnant of its former power. Even though it was midday, the light seemed to fade, casting long, eerie shadows over the field.
A sense of doom rapidly intensified. The Force sent him a warning, a cold shiver running down his spine. He turned his head sharply, eyes wide with alarm.
"KENSHIN! WATCH OUT!"