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"Are you joking, Master Che?” asked Anakin.
"No jokes whatsoever, Padawan" the healer moved her lekku contrary. "Due to the war many of the Order’s teachers are on the frontlines. Whereas younglings that have an excess of free time are capable of lots of things."
"But involving Padawans in educational work…"
"The Council’s decree is the same for all," Vokara Che snapped back. "Order members on rehabilitation must devote their time to pass the knowledge to youth. You, Padawan, have a battle experience. Do deign to share it with growing generation."
"I don’t know how to teach," Anakin squeezed out. The healer’s gaze softened.
"Just busy the children for a short while. Tell them about one of your missions. Explain, why did you acted that way, and not the other, discuss possible solution options. You’ll see that you’ll manage."
Anakin followed the twi’lek walking away with a helpless eye. Rubbish. What can he teach younglings? It’s understandable that Masters simply wish to engage kiddies as much as possible so they don’t run off to the war to become heroes, but…
"Padawan Skywalker?" a little nautolan girl trickled into the ward. Her eyes blinked curiously. "I am Ashasa Eet from the Hawk-Bat Clan. I’ve come to coordinate lessons. We are free from 7 to 9 a.m. and later from 8 p.m. to curfew. When will you be able to come?"
"At the mornings I have treatments," recalled Anakin. "At the evenings I am not doing anything. Has someone told you what I am supposed to teach you?"
That would have been good, to be fair. Although if teachers tell him to work on some kind of applied sociology, he’ll go mad.
The nautolan shook her head.
"Something you’ve encountered at the war. That is, more often that other Knights."
"More often that others…" Anakin became thoughtful, then suppressed a smirk. "OK. 8 a.m., at Western gardens. Take your training sabres with you."
He’ll have to go to the city not for long, but if everything works out, not only younglings will have fun.
***
"Hello, children!" Anakin said friendly emerging from behind the tree. Simultaneous "oh!" answered him. Anakin smiled. Yes, he was handsome. And yellow contact lenses suited him no less than a black cloak borrowed from the laundry.
"As it happens, I have had to fight hostile Force users frequently at the war," he told younglings, who were rooted to the ground. "Fallen Jedi, Dark Acolytes, fully fledged Lords… That is why today we will have a kind and funny game named 'Sith hunt.'"
"Well, where the sabre is from?" a teeny brown zabrak interrupted him. "A trophy, yes?"
"I’ve filched it from the museum depositories," confessed Anakin up.
"And the Force?" A miraluka girl narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Dark!"
"That’s my own, natural," chuckled Anakin. "Ask Windu, he’ll confirm. So, children, have you studied tactics 101? Splendid. Your task is to neutralise an evil Sith that infiltrated the Temple. Any methods. Start!"
After he finished talking, he grasped a branch and, pulling himself up, disappeared in the tree crown. Force, that was obediently singing around the body, coiled to a dim twinkle, concealing him from detection. A jump, another one and younglings, making a hubbub excitedly, remain to the left. Still standing in the crowd. Wrong. Evil Sith will use that for sure.
Anakin slid to the side and, kneeling behind the column, stretched a hand. The Force eagerly closed up a loose circle around the familiar zabrak’s neck. He made an "oh" sound.
"I’ve forgotten to mention," Anakin raised a microphone bead to his lips. A loudspeaker installed well in advance near the tree roots repeated his words. The evil Sith will resist."
It worked: kiddies scattered in all directions. Three of them, barely leaving the clearing, flopped on the knees, listening to the Force and trying to trace vestiges of Darkness. Anakin smiled soundlessly. Do search. You will definitely find.
Playing the chosen role turned out to be unexpectedly hard. No, the fact that younglings cooperated quite well and were skilfully bringing the target to bay did not hinder Anakin: he was faster and more experienced. And his own decision to use next to no Force did not restrict his possibilities too much. Nevertheless, it appears, the form of a Sith affected perception of the world to a great degree.
A roll, a jump, landing in a circle of youth. Blades, alight with benevolent training fire, clash. One of them leaves a sleeve of his cloak singed — and a short rage splashes in his mind: how, a boy grazed him? Two swings; a togruta girl that got hit across the chest falls readily, then peers from the grass agitatedly following course of the fight. A jump to the side again and a swift run through the bushes. Three seconds of motionlessness behind the stone. To the right, a foreign light Force is unfolding; sweeping to locate the enemy. Something stirs lazily in the chest: danger? Jedi Consular? Lets kill them; what’s the trouble? Consular in meditation is weak and unable to defend himself.
Noiseless trek through the alley of Chandrillian Spruces there where dead in trance adversary could be sensed. Half a minute of careful shifts to circumnavigate an ardently inspecting bushes trio — younglings had thought up a protection. A dash through the glade — and an emitter of the lightsabre is pressed to the back of head of pantoran boy who opened his eyes in a surprise.
For an infinitely long second fingers caress a mode switch on the handle. Training mode — battle mode, training mode — battle mode… A predatory thrill sings on the edge of consciousness. If he switches the toggle, young Consular won’t help his own men indeed… 'He is already out of the game,' Anakin reminds himself, 'What the Hutt, he is not my enemy!'
"Fall," he whispers to the youngling’s ear. "You are killed."
The pantoran gladly drops face down to the grass.
"Skywalker, you are a cool Sith!" an awed whisper reaches his ears. Anakin nods silently, subduing the wish to finish the opponent off that was turning in his heart. Yes, lad. What a Sith he is.
***
"Outrageous!" Master Windu was predictably angry. "The appearance of the Sith is not a cause for jokes!"
Anakin cast his eyes down with a feigned submissiveness. The Sith hunt, alas, had not stayed unnoticed. And whilst a keeper of history of Order museum was just offended over the borrowed red sabre, Masters, troubled by stirrings of the Dark Side in the heart of the Temple, had rated the performance very unambiguously.
"Unsafe…"
"It is to rouse a Darkness in oneself and then amuse oneself with it for entertainment…"
"And the romanticisation of a Sith figure in the minds of young… This morning five younglings showed up to the breakfast with yellow lenses!"
"I've liked the yesterday game," Yoda’s low remark cut the talk. Anakin cast a sidelong look at the Grandmaster. He shuffled in a seat and added nostalgically, "My childhood reminds it me of. Where are my one hundred fifteen, would have joined I…"
"Grandmaster, but Skywalker has genuinely felt dark emotions," objected Windu.
"How else?" Yoda shrugged. "In my youth that game played often was. For both parties it beneficial is. Followers how to find Darkness learn and as a team work, while a leader practises keeping Darkness in check. For in everyone’s heart Darkness sleeps, either soundly or not.
His gaze lingered on Anakin.
"Though earlier only Masters experienced a training Sith made. Still it turned pretty well out. I almost with a sabre at ready and no slippers leapt from bed have, yes."
"Do you encourage that?" disbelieved Ki-Adi-Mundi.
"Training that useful is," shrugged Yoda. "Whilst healing Skywalker is, let he continues lessons his. Although insurance will amiss be not, in case his slips control. And after…" Grand Master squinted dreamily.
"If his task you, Mace, continue, will that both safe and for younglings entertaining be."
The glare of Master Windu became the greatest reward for all reprimands Anakin had to listen to.