Force Shadow

Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One, is destined - or so the Jedi interpret their prophecy – to bring balance to the Force. But what does balance even mean? Both the Jedi and the Sith make one fundamental mistake – the Force is not purely dark or light. There are many shadows and shades of grey. Finding the balance between them while staying true to the greater good is the true challenge for a Jedi to face.

While Obi-Wan Kenobi heeds Qui-Gon Jinn's dying wish and imposes upon the Order to accept Anakin within their ranks, the Council deems Obi-Wan too inexperienced and assigns Anakin to an old scholar, Master Atal, who leads Skywalker with a strict, restraining hand. Feeling rejected, and unappreciated, he turns out a brash, impulsive teenager. Just before he turns 17, Master Atal meets an untimely end. Instead of getting promoted to knighthood, he is assigned another Master, who is unlike any other Jedi Anakin has met before, and who challenges him more than he'd like.

While the new master and apprentice pair try and struggle to find their footing with each other, the galaxy stumbles into the chaos of war, and the lines between light and dark, and good and evil, become blurry.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

~ 1 ~

Reluctant beginning

- the Force judges you not by the height you have risen,

but from the depth you have climbed -

The council meeting was set to begin in less than five minutes. Anakin waited outside the chamber doors, summoned without explanation, the weight of his frustration bearing down on him like a heavy cloak. His mind was elsewhere, replaying the events from two weeks ago over and over.

It had happened just days after his 17th birthday. His Master was dead, killed by a dark side acolyte named Ventress. Despite never imagining he'd feel this way, Anakin was shaken. Master Atal had been old—a conservative scholar who strictly adhered to the book, showing no respect or acknowledgment of his Padawan's potential. Anakin often felt overlooked, held back, and suffocated by Atal's rigid teachings. Yet, despite it all, Atal had been the closest thing to a father he'd ever had—a stern, authoritarian figure, but a father, nonetheless.

Now, Anakin felt grief, but it was twisted with other emotions—rejection, betrayal, and a simmering anger that refused to dissipate. If only the old man had trusted him, if only he had been allowed to accompany Atal on that final mission, things might have been different. The memory was like a festering wound, raw and painful. They had been on a diplomatic mission to settle a minor conflict on a distant planet. Anakin had sensed something was off, had pleaded to go with Atal, but the old Jedi had dismissed his concerns and sent him back to the ship.

Then, the darksider had appeared—Ventress, her name was. She was ruthless, trained in ways of the dark side that Anakin had only heard whispers about. She had slaughtered Atal without mercy, and all Anakin could do was witness the aftermath, his own potential and power kept shackled by those who were supposed to guide him.

He could have saved Atal. He could have stopped Ventress. But no one believed in him. No one trusted him. The entire Jedi Order seemed determined to hold him back, to keep him from realizing his true power.

The sting of it burned in his chest, a fire he couldn't extinguish.

He heard footsteps approaching and turned his head to see another person arrive.

It was a man Anakin had never seen before, and something about him immediately set him on edge. He was a human, appearing young, perhaps barely older than Anakin himself, but there was an air of danger around him. The man ignored the teenager and stopped at a window without a word of greeting.

Borderline rude, but okay, Anakin thought and scanned him.

His skin had a warm, lightly tanned hue that contrasted with the jet-black, long hair tied into a messy bun, with a few strands rebelliously falling into his face. Anakin noticed that he didn't wear a Padawan braid. His features were finely sculpted, with high cheekbones and a delicate jawline, giving him an almost feminine appearance. But it was his eyes that truly drew attention—monolid and a deep, almost fathomless black, they were slightly angled upwards, giving his face an intense, hawk-like quality. His face was almost unnervingly beautiful, with an air of deadly grace that belied the disinterested calmness in his expression. There was a stillness to him, a kind of poised readiness that made Anakin think of a predator lying in wait. He exuded something that was very unlike the commanding, sometimes self-righteous and open, loud presence of a peacekeeper.

The man's attire was equally out of place, and it immediately struck Anakin as odd. Unlike the traditional Jedi robes Anakin was accustomed to, this man's outfit was designed for stealth and agility. He wore a close-fitting black tunic, sleeveless, that hugged his muscular frame. He was notably shorter than Anakin but stocky and impressively muscular—a body built for strength, speed, and silent movement. Over the tunic, he had a short, dark gray cloak that reached a bit below his waist, its edges frayed and worn, clearly intended for blending into the shadows.

I don't know, he doesn't look like a Jedi, Anakin thought. More like a bounty hunter maybe, or a shadowy assassin?

His arms were encased in black gloves that extended to his elbows, the forearms covered in thin, segmented armor that looked flexible enough not to hinder movement. His pants were as black as the rest of his outfit, made from a material that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it, and were tucked into soft, dark brown boots that looked well-worn, as if they had seen more battlefields than temple floors. Clipped to his belt was a sleek and unadorned lightsaber—proof enough that he was a Jedi—but next to it was something even more peculiar: a small blaster in a holster. Anakin frowned. A Jedi carrying a firearm? That was unheard of. In addition to the small blaster holstered at his side, there were what looked like throwing knives strapped to his thigh, their handles barely visible under the folds of his tunic.

Despite the man's youthful appearance, there was a coldness to him. While calm and aloof, his expression was at the same time grim, with a dismissive air that made Anakin feel as though he was being sized up and found lacking.

What unsettled Anakin most, however, was the man's presence—or lack thereof—in the Force. He reached out, trying to sense something, anything from this stranger, but was met with a void. It was as if the man wasn't even there, his aura concealed so expertly that it felt like staring into a bottomless pit. Anakin had never encountered anything like it.

Curiosity and caution battled within Anakin, the simmering anger he felt toward the Council momentarily dulled by the intrigue this mysterious figure sparked in him.

"Hey. Do you know why we're here?" Anakin asked, his voice a mix of irritation and genuine curiosity.

The man turned his head slightly, those dark, unreadable eyes locking onto Anakin's with an intensity that made his breath catch. "Hello. And no, I have no idea."

Obviously uninterested, the man turned back to the window. Anakin's frustration flared as he tried again to penetrate the man's defenses with the Force, only to be met with that same impenetrable wall. It was as if this man was deliberately keeping everyone—and everything—out. There was something undeniably dangerous about him, a sense that this was someone who had seen and done things most Jedi never would. Someone who thrived in the shadows, where the light of the Jedi seldom reached. Anakin couldn't help but feel a pull, a need to understand who—or what—this stranger was.

"So," Anakin began again, leaning casually against the wall, "you don't look like most of the Jedi around here. What's your name?"

The man didn't even bother turning around, his eyes still fixed on the view outside. "Names aren't important."

Anakin frowned at the curt reply but wasn't deterred. "I think they are. It's how we know who people are. So, who are you?"

The stranger's shoulders tensed slightly, a small sign that he was annoyed. "Leave me alone!"

His voice carried a distinct accent, one Anakin couldn't quite place, but it was clear that Galactic Basic was not his first language. The words sounded a bit forced, the pronunciation softer and drawn out a bit longer than necessary, as if the man was measuring each one before he let it slip past his lips.

Anakin raised an eyebrow, his tone becoming more direct. "You're not a talker, huh? Fine. I'll just ask something simpler. Where are you from?"

The man finally turned his head slightly, his sharp eyes narrowing at Anakin. "Somewhere you've never been and never will go."

Anakin didn't back down, though his own frustration was starting to show. "You know, you don't have to be so secretive. Whatever the Council wants from us—we're on the same side here—both Jedi, right?"

All he was granted was an annoyed half-glance.

Anakin pushed off the wall, taking a step closer. "Look, I'm just trying to understand who I'm dealing with. You don't even feel like a Jedi. You're…different...I have no idea who you even could be."

The man turned fully now, his gaze locking onto Anakin's with an intensity that made the younger Jedi's breath catch. "Good. Keep it that way."

Anakin bristled at the dismissal, but before he could press further, the doors to the Council chamber slid open, and a Temple Guard stepped out.

"The Council will see you now," the guard announced.

The stranger shot Anakin one last unreadable look before brushing past him, heading straight for the open doors without another word. Anakin clenched his fists, biting back his irritation as he followed, questions still burning in his mind.

At least he would now learn why he had been called before the Council, and maybe even who the stranger was.

Mace Windu gave both him and the other man a contemptuous look before he spoke, his voice calm and authoritative. "Anakin, the Council expresses their sympathy for the loss you had to endure. You are, as of now, still a Padawan learner. With the loss of Master Atal, it has been decided that you will continue your training under a new Master."

"Continue your training you must, young Skywalker," Yoda added. "And for you, Master Kano, time to take on a Padawan learner, it is."

"Padawan Skywalker, this is Master Kenshin Kano," added Windu. "He will be your new Master."

The words took a few seconds to sink in. Then Anakin realized what they meant. Again, he was not to become a Jedi Knight; he was to remain a Padawan learner for another undetermined length of time, and his temper surged.

"This is a joke, right?!" He blurted out, his voice louder than he intended. He shot a glare at the Council members, his blue eyes blazing with indignation. "You can't be serious! I'm ready for the trials! This is outrageous! I don't need a new Master!" he angrily burst out.

"Ready for the trials you are not. Much to learn you still have," Yoda firmly stated. Mace Windu shot him a fiercely disapproving glance, but Anakin was more than used to those.

"But I'm ready to be a Knight! I've proven myself over and over, and I don't need someone else holding me back!"

"That's enough, Anakin," Master Windu cut in, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You will accept the Council's decision."

Great, Anakin thought. I'm the most talented and most powerful Padawan in the whole Jedi Order. I'm top of my class! I even surpass most of the knights, and they still won't let me do the trials! They reassign me, and to who? Who in the blazes is that even supposed to be?

Kenshin—at least he now knew the name of the stranger—didn't say a word and remained as still as a statue, his face betraying no emotion, no reaction to Anakin's outburst. It was as if he were simply observing a scene that had nothing to do with him, detached and indifferent.

Anakin wanted to scream, to lash out, to refuse outright. But he knew it would do no good. The Council's decision was final. His heart pounded with frustration and anger, his mind racing with thoughts of how unfair it all was. But there was nothing he could do.

As the meeting concluded and the Council members began to file out, Kano stopped him and said, "Please meet me at the common training area in two hours."

Ah, so now the man had manners? Well, Anakin was throwing his manners right out the window.

"I don't even know who you are! Some rogue idiot from Force knows where. I am ready for the trials, and they keep holding me back! Back off!"

In the back of his mind, Anakin knew he was judging the other Jedi prematurely. The man in front of him didn't deserve any of it, but he was so furious, he didn't care. The tantrum fit he had just thrown, however, earned him an unimpressed smirk. Anakin looked him defiantly in the eyes, and all of a sudden, Anakin felt uneasy, as if the young man facing him could read every thought of his.

"Maybe you are ready for the trials, maybe not. Maybe I am unfit to be your master, maybe not. Whatever holds true, we will soon find out." And with that, he briskly walked off, as if he urgently had somewhere to be.

Anakin sighed in frustration. He heard the familiar tap-tap of a walking stick behind him and turned around. "Master Yoda! Please, explain to me, why was I assigned to—"

"Judge your new Master already, you do, hmm?" interrupted Yoda. "Open eyes and ears you should. Learn a lot from Master Kano you can!" Yoda dismissed him with these words, being mysterious and vague as always. He might be very wise, but why, for the Force's sake, couldn't he just give actual answers!

"Why?" The sharp voice cut through the corridor, halting Mace Windu in his tracks. He hadn't sensed Kenshin Kano approaching, a testament to the young man's mastery of stealth.

"Why what, Kano?"

"Why was I ordered back here? Was it really for that Padawan—that I am the worst possible choice for? Or to put me on a leash?"

Windu's patience was already wearing thin. Kano had an uncanny ability to unnerve him within mere moments. "As much as I'd like to do the latter—and believe me, the thought has crossed my mind more than once—I had nothing to do with this decision. In fact, I voted against it. If you want someone to blame, look no further than your old Master."

Kenshin scoffed, his lips curling into a sneer. "The old troll was never truly my Master. Not in any way that mattered. And not even the Force knows what he's thinking!"

"Watch your tone, Kano," Windu warned, his voice low and dangerous. "You may have your reservations, but you will respect the Council's decision."

"Respect? The Council's decision?" Kenshin repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "This is stupid, and you know it! Giving me a Padawan? I'm not able to train one, and I don't want to train one! I work alone, and that's how it should stay."

Windu's expression hardened. "You're a Jedi, Kano. The Order does not cater to personal preferences. Skywalker needs a Master, and the Council believes you're the one for that job!"

Without another word, just a sithly glare, Kenshin left as swiftly as he had appeared. Windu shook his head. He contemplated what exactly he liked the least about the young Jedi Master. Either way, he hadn't changed a bit in the last few years, nor had his blunt demeanor. Pairing Skywalker with him as a master could prove a troublesome combination. As if Yoda had sensed his concerns, the small green figure chose this very moment to show up.

"Something I sense, bother you it does," a knowing, amused smile sat on Yoda's face.

"Forgive me, Master Yoda, but are you sure assigning Skywalker to Master Kano was the right choice? I can't help but think it's fighting fire with fire."

"Hmmmmm, not sure of this assignment you are? Master Atal like a father for Skywalker was. Another father we have not—but give him a brother, we can! Doubt Master Kano, you should not! A great part in his training you had, yourself. Young he may be, bold and rebellious—but loyal and strong with the Force. Have faith you should! A good master for Skywalker he will be."

Anakin woke up, his head pounding, feeling sick. Slowly opening his eyes, he realized he was in a room that was unfamiliar but looked like most typical temple living quarters, albeit one of the smaller ones. The sun was shining outside; it must have been early morning. A young Jedi was sitting nearby, his expression grim yet concerned.

"Where am I, and who the blazes are you?" Anakin asked, squeezing his eyes shut and blinking a few times. The light of Coruscant's sun was too bright for his liking.

"I'm Kenshin Kano, and we're in my room. Yesterday, you were assigned to me as my new Padawan."

The words failed to make any sense to Anakin. "What happened? How did I get here...hold on…ugh. Farkled!" He grunted as vague, incoherent memories started coming back. He remembered being tossed to the ground, feeling sick, everything, including the ground, moving. Then a glowing blade, a pair of dirty, dark brown boots next to his face—a Jedi!—then darkness.

"I'd be surprised if you remembered much. According to the bartender, you downed 14 shots of his hardest stuff. You were absolutely shitfaced when I found you."

"The bar...I got into a fight...wait a minute…you brought me here?"

Anakin looked confused, more memories of the day before flowing back into his mind...a fellow Padawan calling him names, they started a fight, an argument with Master Windu who had shown up to separate them and, of course, berate him...him storming off, away from everything...

And at last, the memory of the stranger and the Council meeting hit him.

"Kriff!" He said and stared at the man with wide eyes. Anakin's emotions surged as he recalled the Council session, his first encounter with Kenshin flashing through his mind. The anger he had felt, the injustice of it all—being told once again that he was not ready, that he was still just a Padawan, no matter how many times he proved himself. And then, the shock of being assigned to this stranger, this man who felt more like a shadow than a Jedi. The cold dismissal he had received, the way Kenshin had ignored his outbursts, had all combined to make Anakin feel small, powerless, and infuriated. Now, lying there, he felt a mix of resentment and curiosity. Who was this man, and why had the Council paired him with Anakin?

Anakin now clearly remembered his first words after the Council session – he was sure his new master would not take kindly to his behaviour.

"You didn't show up at the training area. I was told you got into a fight and then ran. I went looking. The moment I found you, a large Togruta was about to turn you into pulp. I convinced him otherwise. After that, you barfed once on my boots and once all over my coat—thank blast not into the speeder—and I brought you here. I deemed it better to keep your field trip secret. Unless you want to fill Master Windu in on it. I checked for injuries; you got away with just a few bruises."

Speak of the devil, a comlink started beeping, and it was Mace Windu's voice that asked, "Master Kano. Where is Skywalker?"

"He's with me," Kenshin replied curtly.

"He's to report to me at once! I tried to summon him, he didn't respond. I want him to explain yesterday's incident and why he attacked another Padawan, again!"

"He's feeling sick today and will rest until he recovers," Kenshin said, his tone flat and unyielding.

"He needs to learn his place! Send him to me now!" Windu's voice crackled with authority.

"As his Master, this is now for me to decide and deal with," Kenshin responded, his voice carrying a finality that left no room for argument. Without waiting for a response, he cut the comlink off, the device going silent.

Anakin looked at Kenshin in disbelief. "You don't seem to be very impressed by Master Windu," he observed, his tone tinged with both surprise and confusion.

"I am not. Never was," Kenshin replied, his expression as unreadable as ever.

"Why are you helping me?" Anakin asked, still trying to grasp why this stranger was standing up for him, something he was not accustomed to.

"Should I not?" Kenshin's response was flat, almost as if the question itself was unnecessary.

"Mmmmm, I'm sorry," Anakin stammered, feeling a bit embarrassed. "What was your name again?"

"Kenshin," the man answered, his tone as neutral as before.

Anakin hesitated, trying to gauge whether he had overstepped. But Kenshin's expression didn't change; there was no sign of irritation or even amusement. He simply waited for Anakin to continue.

"I think I haven't exactly been nice to you yesterday. At least from what I remember..." Anakin felt a sting of pain in his head that slowly diminished as Kenshin used the Force to ease the headache.

"I didn't take it personally. What did even happen yesterday?" Kenshin asked, his voice calm, with no hint of judgment.

Anakin gave a brief recount of his fight with the other boy and Windu stepping in. "They were calling me names. And Windu got mad at me for defending myself. But I can't let that slide! He doesn't understand. Nobody understands! I'm not allowed to do anything; nobody ever listens, everyone just keeps bossing me around and telling me I must control my emotions." Anakin now stared angrily into empty space, his fists clenching at his sides.

Kenshin watched him for a moment, his gaze steady and unreadable, his expression revealing nothing of what he was thinking. It was as though he was carefully considering his next words, weighing them before he spoke.

"Get some rest and sleep off that hangover. We'll start training tomorrow," Kenshin finally said.

Anakin lay back, trying to make sense of everything. He'd expected to at least get scolded, another reprimand added to the many he had received to that point. Not that he liked being scolded, but that was all that ever happened. Nobody ever cared about how he felt. But this—this was different. Kenshin had stood up for him, had brushed off Windu's demands without a second thought. And instead of a lecture, he'd been told to rest. It was almost…kind.

But Anakin wasn't sure what to make of it. This man, his new Master, was a complete mystery. He was different from anyone he had ever met in the Order—unpredictable, detached, and yet, somehow, understanding. As he tried to contemplate all of it, his thoughts began to blur, his exhaustion taking over. Before he knew it, he was drifting back to sleep.

"Thank you...Master," he whispered as sleep finally claimed him.