28.8 BBY, Coruscant, Jedi Temple
"It was a great bout, Tutso. I had to dig to the very bottom of my bag of tricks to pull out the win. Next time, you'll wipe the floor with me" I stated with a warm smile.
My words weren't simply the magnanimous assurances of a gracious victor, either. Despite winning four of our five bouts to date, my margin of victory had shrunk noticeably each time.
Until finally I'd been reduced to victory via a method of subterfuge they simply didn't teach in the Temple. One which the Battlemaster was sure to lecture me over as soon as he heard about it.
Grinning as he finished toweling off sweat, the older apprentice replied.
"Stop at merely wiping the floor with you, Skywalker? I'm going to mop and polish the ring to a mirror sheen while I've got you by that mop of straw you call a head of hair, just you wait.
That was a beautifully sneaky trick right there at the end. One I insist you teach me, Spooky."
I mock-grimaced at the nickname. Apprentices were used to the constant low-level precognition their Masters exhibited, and likewise accustomed to brief bursts of the same in themselves or their peers, but my reflexes had been noticed by pretty much all the Padawans as of the first physical training segment.
It had only been the beginning of the differences noticed in me by my peers.
Traits which had resulted in the majority using that nickname with considerably more negative connotations, as they cut me out of the group with all the merciless childishness of a group of high school kids.
Had I actually been a few months past my twelfth life-day, I'm positive their puerile cruelty would have messed me up just as thoroughly as it had Other-Anakin. Tutso Mara, however, was one of my more outspoken supporters among the ten or fifteen percent of apprentices who didn't follow the crowd's lead.
He insisted on refurbishing the nickname to take the sting out that my detractors had put into it, as he'd thoughtfully explained to me three times now. Privately, I thought he just enjoyed yanking my chain.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll graciously share from the store of ancient and eldritch secrets passed onto me by the infamous Dark Woman. If for no other reason than to have someone I can split the heat from the Battlemaster with."
I wryly quipped back. We both pantomimed some truly over-the-top mock horror at the mention of the Wrath of Propriety which was Master Drallig, but before the clowning could go any further I heard my Master calling out from the observation tier a little less than twenty feet above us.
"Anakin, would you join me up here? There's someone I'd like for you to meet" Dark Woman called out to me. Her tone making it clear that sooner would be much better than later.
Looking over at Tutso regretfully, I pointed upward as I casually returned the training saber to it's notch in the holding rack on the ring's perimeter with the Force and remarked.
"The voice of my Master. I hear and must obey, so teaching you how to con other duelists will unfortunately have to wait."
Nodding with an expression of friendly resignation, the dark haired teen shrugged, then grinned as he intuited "Not planning on taking the stairs, are you, Spooky?"
I grinned back at him as I opened myself to the Force's majestic music and replied with mischievous amusement clear in my tone.
"What kind of a Skywalker would I be, if I meekly submitted to the tyranny of gravity?"
On the "e" sound in "gravity" I allowed the suddenly spiraling intensity of my own song being sung by the Force to exponentially enhance my jump.
The Force carrying me easily above the observation-tier's railing, so as I descended, I had a perfect view of the observation tier laid out fifteen or twenty feet below me.
There was my quietly amused looking Master patiently waiting for me, a Battlemaster scowling in disapproval at what he undoubtedly considered a spurious use of the Force on my part, plus a figure standing between the two who nearly caused me to blow my landing in shock.
Fortunately, I'd been grandstanding to carry off my name-joke, so the arc of my Force Leap carried me high enough to both give me time to recover from the surprise of finding Darth Sidious waiting for me, and to keep my rapidly descending features concealed long enough to (I hoped) hide my initial look of dismay.
Landing, I immediately pasted a look of contrite chagrin onto my face. "Forgive me, Master, I never imagined you meant to introduce me to someone like, well-" I trailed off with my babbling, as I weakly gestured in the Supreme Chancellor's direction with one hand.
Using my very genuine self-consciousness and anxiety to give the impression of a terribly embarrassed young man entirely out of his depth. Since it wasn't all that inaccurate a depiction, I prayed it would strike Palpatine as genuine.
He had no good reason to expect to see anything besides an ignorant Padawan who'd been caught out, after all.
Master Drallig's scowl was so intense it could have cut through durasteel, so when he opened his mouth, I braced to receive a Grade Ten tongue-lashing. Which would at least help paint the picture of a high-spirited young Padawan.
"There's nothing to see here except a boy as immature and ignorant as he is gifted" I thought intently at the man who was the source of nearly all contemporary evil in the galaxy. Willing him to see nothing but the seeming of Other-Anakin.
It had fooled the High Council en masse. Surely, it could deceive one Sith who was known for sometimes being blinded by his own supreme self-assurance at the worst possible moments.
Palpatine's warm laughter interrupted the Battlemaster before he could deliver word one of his blistering chiding. It only lasted a couple of moments, before he was complimenting Master Drallig.
"Commendable, Master Drallig, your balancing the need for discipline with an understanding of what it's like to be young and given to impetuously high-spirited behavior. I remember from my own days as a student just how rare instructors like you were.
The teachers I respected most were those who behaved as disciplinarians when it was obviously necessary, rather than simply in keeping with some self-inflicted notion that discipline in the ranks would collapse the instant it wasn't rigidly maintained by those in authority.
I'm sure it's only one of the traits to have won you the respect of the young minds in your care. Isn't that right, Anakin?"
I never would have thought I'd live to see the day the Troll was not only mollified but obviously gratified by mere words, but the craggy Battlemaster was actually smiling as the trio of adults turned their attention my way.
It was an obvious cue a clever twelve year old eager to avoid the consequences of his misdemeanor would have taken, so take it I did.
Along with the reminder that Palpatine's tongue was at least as dangerous as his relationship with the Dark Side.
"Th-, that's right, Chancellor. I get more out of my own Master's instruction in the Form V disciplines, but Master Drallig is much better at communicating the intermediate Ataru cadences I've been studying in my physical segments since satisfying him I could keep up.
His lectures and demonstrations with regards to the Marks of Contact and corresponding dueling tactics belong in the Great Holocron!" I enthused with complete sincerity.
While there would always remain a reciprocal dislike twixt the overly proper Battlemaster and myself, I gave the man full credit for his genius as an instructor.
He would never possess the practical facility of Weaponmasters like Yoda, Mace Windu, or fallen Sora Bulq, but with the exception of the Grandmaster, he was unquestionably better at conveying what he comprehended to others.
A true teacher, and one I was glad wasn't presently slated to be carved up by his best student.
Sadly, Palpatine was of course far too clever to fall for my rudimentary but thankfully undetectable trap and give away he had any idea at all what I was talking about.
He echoed my praise in a very generic, agreeable manner while maintaining the look of a man well-versed in the art of conversation participation where he himself had no personal knowledge of the subject under discussion.
It had been an incredible long-shot, but I'd thought his extreme distaste for lightsaber combat might betray him into revealing he knew more about the subject than all three of the actual Jedi standing here.
Still, as lovely as the Sith betraying himself would have been, that hadn't been why I'd set a trap I knew would fail.
While Ole' Sheev had been occupied suppressing his distaste for the subject and assembling a masterful visual rendition of indulgently bemused ignorance of what the excitable lad was speaking, I had been slowly raising my Thought Shield.
It earned me an immediately quizzical look from my Master, but Cin Drallig missed it completely. If I was going to end up on a Sith assassination-list, I damned well wasn't affixing my name myself.
Every real Star Wars fan knew that one of Palpatine's few real weaknesses in the Pre-Clone Wars era was being cut off from all his phenomenal Dark Side powers any time he was outside his secret Sith horror-chamber in the Works of Coruscant's benighted lowest levels.
There, the natural Dark Side pall permitted him to "run silent" from Jedi detection, but here inside the Jedi Temple?"
Palpatine's smile didn't even flicker as I looked over almost exactly on eye-level with the Grandmaster of Evil despite my youth and silently swore while smiling the overawed and ingratiating smile perfected by every Caucasian male ever to succeed in 21st Century Corporate America.
"I'm going to stop you if it takes vaporizing Byss/Legends to keep you dead, Your Highness."
My guts were tied in knots as I ran through mental centering exercises, but so far I seemed to have avoided outing myself as the one immense potential point of failure in the Grand Plan.
Darth Sidious smiled the winning smile which had turned literally every meaningful authority figure in this galaxy into his eager lack-wit pawns, then confessed with rueful humility.
"I'm afraid I must admit to an ulterior motive in coming here this evening."
Dark Woman and Cin Drallig seemed just a little troubled by this admission, but so thick was the man's ever-ongoing charm offensive, that two fairly cynical Jedi Masters gave him the benefit of the doubt without a second thought.
For the first time in my life, I began to understand the appeal of the Dark Side, as I was so very nearly overcome by the desire to cry out with volcanic rage simmering in my veins.
"You fools! Can't you see how fake he is? Can't you hear how loudly he's laughing at both of you in his head right this instant? This man is going to go back to his uber penthouse and rub one out to the pleasant fantasy of not only exterminating the entire Jedi Order, but convincing people in a single generation that we never existed!"
While Palpatine told the two Jedi Masters a heartwarming tale he heard from his good friend, (Master) Ronhar Kim, concerning a boy as young as he was gifted.
One whom provided the dire warning which saved not only a Jedi Master, but also his "good friend" Queen Amidala from that "nefarious assassin" (whom he knew nothing about, despite training him from literal infancy).
Said Masters simply ate it up. Obviously hanging on his every word, as he went on to say:
"I heard that boy had become an even more talented young man. One who was coming to the Temple to continue his training for a time, so despite knowing my curiosity might be construed as unseemly, I just had to meet the young man clever enough to find the complex meaning in a series of fragmentary dream-images while he was still barely more than a toddler.
While I now represent the interests of the entire Republic, my heart will never leave my beautiful Naboo, you see.
Queen Amidala has proven to be one of our greatest monarchs, so you've done my homeworld quite a service, my young friend." Palpatine explained with heartfelt warmth and an open sincerity you simply didn't see in politicians. He was so good, I never saw the classic statement coming.
Dazzled as I was by how such a black hole of utter evil could seem in all ways the exact opposite.
"And so, young Skywalker, I shall watch your career with great interest."
When the Sith Lord soon after completed the necessary civilities to withdraw, I found the emotional wherewithal to offer my own farewell in a respectful, believable fashion by the narrowest of margins.
I was drained, emotionally and mentally, by an ordeal I couldn't even explain to another living soul. That, and my tribulations weren't over just yet, as evidenced by my Master's words just as soon as Cin Drallig had accompanied the Chancellor to provide a courteous escort from the Temple to his waiting car and security detachment.
"Apprentice, we need to talk. Now." My Master levelly declared. Motioning curtly for me to follow her as she marched rather than glided toward the adjoining apartment habitats we occupied.
With no other viable choice before me, I followed along after her to face the music.
...
I'll appreciate if you guys can throw some power stones to keep the story going.
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