Author's note: chapter hasbeen edited to remove grammarandspelling mistakes

~ 2 ~

Nothing new under the sun

- Ridicule is only as strong as the target is weak -

Once he felt a bit better and the hangover started to wear off, Anakin decided to go do some lightsaber practice. Later, he'd have to meet his Master there anyway. The training droid he was now using had been programmed by himself, simulating the fighting style of Darth Maul, the Sith Lord killed by Obi-Wan Kenobi on Naboo shortly after Anakin had been found on Tatooine. Anakin spun to doge a blow from the droid, then launched and took a final strike and cut the droid in half. Still panting, he overheard a few whispered words from a nearby Padawan: "slave"..."emotions."

Those jealous bastards…

Before they knew what happened, he used the Force to snatch their lightsabers from their belts, igniting them mid-air, and caught them, pointing the blades at the terrified boys. "Which emotion are YOU feeling right now, huh?"

The Rodian and the young Zabrak were paralyzed, staring at Anakin with wide eyes. Something then gently but firmly pulled the sabers from Anakin's hands, let them hover in the air for a moment, and then turned them off. Three Padawans gazed at a hooded figure that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. It was Kenshin, his expression unimpressed, exuding a cold, commanding aura. Anakin wondered how long he had been there watching. The two Padawans took their lightsabers back and quickly stepped back, putting a safer distance between themselves and their hot-tempered peer. Anakin was hard to impress, but even he marveled at how someone as young as Kenshin could radiate so much authority.

"Your self-control needs work," Kenshin spoke calmly. "And you two," he addressed the two Padawans who looked like they'd turned into pillars of salt, "talking behind someone's back, do you think this is a sign of strength? You're dismissed!"

"Y-yes, Master," the two stuttered and quickly disappeared.

"Enough of those droids," Kenshin turned back to Anakin and dropped his cloak. Anakin liked what was about to happen. Master Atal had never sparred with him, despising violence in any form and considering basic training more than enough. If not with training droids, Anakin had always practiced with fellow Padawans or sometimes one of the knights—duels he would often win unless he sparred with Master Windu. He had a natural talent, making his skills remarkable. During the few missions he had been taken on, there never had been much fighting involved. Being the scholar that he was, Master Atal had emphasized diplomacy and cultural studies. He was curious to see how good of a duelist his new master would be.

Anakin took a moment to assess his new adversary. Outwardly, Kenshin looked grim but calm, even a bit bored. Anakin tried to read his emotions—but again, he couldn't sense anything. Kenshin was, Anakin estimated, about 15 centimeters shorter than himself but a lot more muscular, probably outweighing him by a fair bit. Much to his displeasure, at 17, he still had the lanky stature of a teenager, but his height—nearly 1.9 meters tall—might give him an advantage over his shorter opponent. And a muscle-bound body didn't necessarily mean a good duelist; it could also make someone slow.

The little spectacle before had attracted a few viewers, and more Jedi passing the training area now stopped to watch. Anakin had a reputation for being amazing with a lightsaber, and many people liked watching him train. Although not scared, Anakin suddenly felt a hint of doubt in himself. Where did this strange sensation come from all of a sudden? It was new, and he didn't like it. Kenshin made a slight, elegant bow, signaling that the match would begin.

The first attack came so fast that it nearly caught Anakin off guard. Stupid, he scolded himself. Engaged in a series of rapid strikes, he could barely recompose himself. But he wouldn't give in that easily. He hadn't been defeated in a long time, and he didn't plan on it this time either. Kenshin's style was very unusual, to say the least. Anakin couldn't quite place it. Kenshin didn't move around a lot, but his blade moved with mind-blowing speed and precision. No matter how much energy Anakin put into the fight, his opponent's defense was impenetrable—like a wall. As the duel went on, Anakin felt himself getting tired. As much as it angered him, he felt some satisfaction in finding a worthy opponent. His content didn't last long and was abruptly ended when his lightsaber escaped his grip.

"I see you have started training your new Padawan already," a deep voice said.

"Master Windu," Kenshin nodded in greeting, something sparking in his eyes. "A match?"

"Why not. A welcome opportunity to practice my skills," Windu said with a sharp, almost threatening undertone, glaring at Kenshin. Anakin stepped aside to watch, and he hadn't missed the tension that now charged the air between them. This promised to be interesting! Mace Windu, having created Vaapad, the most challenging and dangerous form of lightsaber fighting, hadn't been defeated in years. A few times, Anakin had tried to learn it, but even for him, it proved an immense challenge, and Windu refused to teach him. He didn't know of any Jedi truly mastering Form VII, apart from Windu himself and one of his former students, Depa Billaba. He was certain, his new Master was about to get his things handed to him. Windu gave the impression of a predator about to go in for the kill. He always had a serious attitude, but right now, something about the look in his eyes was downright frightening. Anakin wondered if Kenshin sensed it too, but he seemed perfectly unimpressed. Nothing revealed what was going on in his mind. That would change in a few moments, Anakin was sure of it. Against Windu, nobody stood a chance.

Kenshin again made a polite bow to greet his opponent. After that, the spectators saw nothing but a glowing blur, the fighters moving at a speed not humanly thought possible, even for Jedi. Kenshin effortlessly parried and blocked attack after attack. Despite his horrifying power and speed, Windu didn't gain any ground. They briefly stopped, trotting around each other for a moment. Anakin saw how Kenshin slightly smiled, as if he truly enjoyed the challenge. Then it was all a blur again. The few times Anakin could glimpse his Master's face, he saw serenity. Amusement, even. This was not the same opponent he had just sparred against. This was by far more powerful, faster, more aggressive. Yet, he had a feeling that Kenshin was still…holding back. Before he knew it, Windu was sent flying onto his back, disarmed.

The small group of spectators gasped. Nobody had beaten Windu in a duel in many years!

"Thank you, Master Windu, it was an honor." His expression still as bland as it could get, Kenshin's voice was dripping with venom.

"The honor is all mine, Master Kano," Windu put the training saber back and walked away. Anakin could see how the tall, dark-skinned man, usually known for his cold composure, was struggling to conceal his anger about having lost the match.

They have a history! And a bad one at that, from what I can see, Anakin thought. An outstanding duellist, who obviously had some hard feelings about Mace Windu, those feelings being mutual. He began to find his new teacher a lot more interesting

"Come, the Council assigned us a mission. We have work to do," Kenshin commanded.

As they left the dojo, Kenshin wasn't sure if he should feel amused or irritated about everything that had gone down in the last two days. Yoda had unexpectedly summoned him back to Coruscant—practically begged him to come back. A task that the old Grandmaster said only he was fit for, but without letting on more. Kenshin hated the urban world. Since his promotion to the rank of master three years before, he hadn't set foot on the planet, not until Yoda's urgent request.

Thanks to some minor incident on Florum, he had landed his ship in the temple's hangar, and arrived barely in time for the council meeting, and it was only in the council chamber that he learned his new task was to train an apprentice! And not just any apprentice.

He had heard about Anakin Skywalker and the prophecy—who hadn't? Although he didn't put much stock in prophecies or rumors. He had also heard about Skywalker's previous master's untimely and cruel demise. What the blazes had Yoda been thinking to choose him of all people! It would never have come to his mind to take a Padawan—him, a teacher? Let alone for a student who was apparently shaken by trauma—a childhood in slavery and losing his master only recently. After the council meeting, Yoda and Windu had given him a short briefing about the teenager. At that occasion, he had tried to refuse the assignment, but Yoda insisted. Kenshin's reluctance was met with grim silence from Windu and another attempt at encouragement from Yoda.

To the few who knew him, Kenshin had been regarded as a prodigy as a Padawan. At least before they had understood what he was capable of and had started to fear or despise him. One of the youngest Jedi in the history of the Order to achieve the rank of master, his connection to the Force was exceptionally strong. His abilities might very well have made him one of the best investigators the Order had, powerful and skilled well beyond his years—though he'd never have chosen such praising words for himself. But he was exactly that—an investigator, a spy, a loner who preferred working on his own. While he did have friends, their number was very small, he chose carefully whom he trusted. He also knew that, despite being respected for his skills and accomplishments, he was a controversial figure among the Jedi to say the least, especially for Mace Windu. All in all, not an apt teacher for a Padawan.

So why had they chosen him? To top it off, he was just six years older than the apprentice he was now supposed to take care of. He tried to remember what it was like to be Anakin's age. The boy was 17. He grimaced remembering that phase in his own life. By that time, he had already lost the woman who had been like a mother to him. Had he only been faster, better, he could have saved her. By that time, he had also already lost the love of his life. Araya. His soulmate. He had told her not to go, warned her that she would get captured. She had gone for it anyway—without giving anyone notice. By the time he had found out where they had taken her, it had been too late. She had died in his arms. By 17, he had been a full-fledged Jedi Knight for a year – and who didn't have anything left to fear nor to lose. Even then he had been aware, that he was not mature enough to be a Knight, but the important thing had been that the Council believed he were. He didn't belong at the temple.

He did appreciate Yoda, in a distant, cold manner, but right now, he wished the green troll to all seven Corellian hells.

It was very much like Yoda to do it like that—assign him a Padawan without warning and without a chance to bail out. All of this wasn't Anakin's fault, however. All he could do now was give his best to live up to the challenge and hope that the old Grandmaster knew what he was doing. So far, it had been...interesting. Not only had his new Padawan been less than thrilled about being reassigned, but his first act as his Master had been to drag the boy—wasted, drunk, and in big trouble—out of a place a young Padawan should not have been in. He did understand the intriguing nature of Coruscant's underworld, but that Cantina? The very next day, he found his new apprentice involved in the next incident. Anakin seemed to be struggling hard with everything. But how—or if—he could help him...well, he'd have to find out.

"What did that guy say that made you snap like that? You need to learn to hold your shit together," Kenshin said at last.

Anakin's eyes shot daggers at him. "Not that again. Everyone is giving me that lecture every day, this is getting old! If I had a credit for every time someone told me to control my emotions, I could buy an entire Venator-class Star Destroyer by now."

"Which tells me that either you don't listen or they didn't teach you in a way you'd understand. People mocking you are either scared, weak, or jealous—or all three things combined. It's not about you. It's about themselves. Don't give them that power."

"That's easily said."

"Ridicule is only as strong as the target is weak. Think about that!"

Anakin skeptically glanced at him. Admittedly, his Master had stood up for him. Nobody had ever done that before, not since Qui-Gon. He tried to make sense of the explanation given to him. Wasn't this the same old story, just told differently? Someone ordering him to control himself?

"What's that supposed to mean?" Anakin inquired.

"You're smart, figure it out." He gave a sigh. "I understand that what they said must have been hurtful. Feeling the emotion is not a bad thing—but letting that emotion have power over you, to not even question it, that is absolutely a bad thing."

"And you always have it under control, of course."

"Sometimes," he replied flatly. For a split-second, something sparked in his eyes, but Anakin couldn't pick up on what it was.

"What's our mission about?"

"Two archaeologists on Vanqor have discovered a dungeon, possibly containing a holocron. We're supposed to analyse the situation, pick up the holocron if there is one, and bring it, along with the archaeologists, back to Coruscant."

"Boring!"

"Before we leave, we'll be tracking down some information about it in the archives. See if it's as boring as you think."

"Didn't they provide briefings or documentation? Why do we have to do that?"

The young Master didn't even bother to indulge in that question and went on. "The excavation subject is a temple from a pre-Mirialan era. I'll collect data about temple and building structures. On your part, please do a short résumé on planetary climate, flora, and fauna."

What planet is he from? Was he even trained here at the temple? Anakin wondered. He had never heard someone speak with an accent like that. Maybe he had indeed ben trained somewhere else. He had heard that this could occasionally happen, like it had been the case for Quinlan Vos.

"Sounds like an elaborate load of theory to just retrieve a holocron."

His only answer was a stern look. His new mentor seemed to have two facial expressions – aloof and disinterested; and grumpy.

"When are we leaving, Master?"

"In two days. While we're still at the temple, we'll meet for training sessions twice a day: the first at 10 in the morning, the second one at 5 in the afternoon."

"Master, that's a packed schedule. I have classes to attend, too"

"You'll manage," Kenshin said drily. "Could you even fly a Venator-class?"

"I can fly anything!"

"Ah, you're humble, too. Get to work. I want the information by tomorrow night."