Anakin sat alone at the edge of the training room, his fingers at work tinkering with a training droid. He was adding a Darth Maul program he'd created based on footage from Naboo. He'd taken the footage and sliced it into a program, and used me, Seris, and Derren to help make adjustments.
While other younglings were sparring, some were watching and talking. A little too loud.
"I heard he hangs out with Cain's group. I wonder who is the real Chosen One?"
"Cain is, obviously. He has so many great feats, and a number of Masters have been looking at him to be their future Padawan."
"How can the slave boy be so emotional and so talented at the same time?"
"I heard he's dangerous. I heard a Master say his midichlorian count was 27,000. While Cain's is 24,000. That's why they consider him the Chosen One. But the Masters think he's dangerous, so they keep an eye on him."
"I heard some Masters asked Cain and Seris to either help guide Skywalker to be a proper Jedi or not associate with him too much."
Me, Seris, Barriss, and Derren heard the whispers from across the room. Barriss's brow furrowed. Seris's face was stoic and poised, but the feeling I sensed radiating off her was frustration. Derren had a stoic expression on his face, which was rare. It felt like he wanted to do something but was waiting for the right moment.
These children truly know nothing, I thought. Instead of judging Anakin for being older and gifted, they should just ask for his guidance. They would learn a lot, even from failure with his help.
I suddenly felt Anakin's emotion from the other side of the room. Then I immediately stood, rushing to his side.
Anakin's fingers clenched the node until it sparked. He stood suddenly, his blue eyes shining brighter than usual, his quiet but furious energy radiating off him.
"I didn't know it was the Jedi way to badmouth and speak gossip about someone, especially for being different, behind their back," he said coldly.
Several of the Initiates flinched. One stepped back. Anakin raised his hand, gesturing to the sparring mat. "Let your skills do the talking. I will take you all on in a duel."
Anakin then asked the instructor, Master Tera Sinube. "Master, would you be okay if we have a friendly duel?"
The ancient Jedi Master paused, looking at Anakin. Then I came up to the Master. "Master, I believe this would be a good test for both sides."
"Oh, and how do you see that, youngling Cain?" Sinube asked.
"It will be a good way to humble the students and give Anakin a chance to show restraint and channel his emotion in a productive way, instead of letting them rule him. And if he gets out of control, I will step in personally," I said to the Master.
That made the ancient Jedi chuckle. "You're saying you're willing to take responsibility if youngling Skywalker takes it too far?"
"Yes, Master, I am," I said with a respectful slight bow.
"Hmmm. Okay, I will allow it. A friendly spar. One strike on your opponent. Once the strike is given, you're done. But do not take it too far, or the entire group will be disciplined."
"Yes, Master Sinube," Anakin said with a slight bow.
Seris then came next to me. "Are you sure about this, Cain?" she asked.
"Yes, I'm sure. I believe in Anakin, and right now that's all he needs. Someone in his corner, and as his friends, we should all be."
"Well said, oh wise Master Cain," Derren said jokingly.
"I agree with Cain," Barriss said.
I looked at Anakin, who stared at me, then he nodded at me, and I nodded back.
Five Jedi younglings stood in the sparring circle. On one side, the four who were gossiping against Anakin. On the other side, Anakin. Both sides ignited their training sabers.
"You can all come at me when you're ready. One at a time or all at once, it doesn't matter to me. The results will be the same," Anakin said, getting into a Shii-Cho stance.
That made one of the boys irritated, then he lunged at Anakin. Anakin parried the slash, then flipped over the first boy toward the girl behind him. She came in with fast strikes, but Anakin blocked all of them. He then noticed the boy behind him coming in for a strike again. Anakin used the strike the girl was going to use on him, then he blocked and parried the strike she sent his way. Then he redirected the girl's strike to the boy behind him. It landed center mass, knocking the boy back.
That's when Anakin used Ataru to disarm the girl in front of him, then strike the girl on her side as he noticed the other two boys were coming in for a strike. Anakin disarmed the girl and took her practice saber. "I will be borrowing this," Anakin said with a stoic face and a sly tone.
Anakin, then wielding two blue practice sabers, stood his ground. He switched to a hybridized version of Makashi and Soresu to deflect and parry both of the boys' strikes. In that moment, I and the entire class noticed how Anakin's blades flowed. They were a smooth motion of continuous blue blurred motion. I felt like I was watching Seris fight. That's when Anakin went for the finisher. In one smooth motion, he disarmed both boys and poked them in their chests.
"Match over," Sinube announced, his voice projecting across the room.
Anakin deactivated the sabers and helped up his opponents. "Thank you for the match," Anakin said with a slight bow.
The one girl spoke up. "That wasn't a match. We weren't even close to you."
Anakin smiled. "It was still a nice learning experience. I found a few different ways to beat you all. But I had to figure out the best ones."
One of the boys looked annoyed. "We weren't that easy to beat," he said.
"Hold on. Don't get so emotional. After all, that's not the Jedi way," Anakin said with a smirk. "All I was saying was I saw so many openings I had to figure out the best ones to use. You're all not bad, but your problem was mostly between your hesitation and your lack of teamwork. I used that to my advantage. If you let me, I would like to show you how to improve on some of your saber forms. That way, when you get into a similar situation, you will know what to do."
Three of the younglings looked surprised. "You would really help us out?" one boy said.
Anakin nodded. "Of course I will. Why wouldn't I?"
"Because we said all those things about you," the girl said.
"Yeah, that wasn't nice. But a friend of mine told me, instead of worrying about what others say, I should focus on how I want to be seen. That way, all my actions speak for me." Anakin then looked at me with a smiling nod.
I looked at Seris with a smirk on my face. "See, not so bad, right?" Seris, with her arms crossed, her ears twitched. "I never doubted you, Cain."
That's when Derren spoke. "Oh really, ice princess? Because you doubted Anakin. And if Cain believes in Anakin but you don't, then you're lying," Derren said with a coy smile. Seris breathed calmly, then closed her eyes. "Derren, you dropped something."
As Derren looked down, Seris spun gracefully and swept Derren's feet, sending him to the floor. Then she placed him in a triangle hold. Derren struggled in pain while Seris was calm and collected.
Barriss and I ignored them. We were used to this.
Back at Anakin's side, one of the students who still looked upset spoke. "This changes nothing. You're still a slave to your emotions, and you have attachments. That's why the Council doesn't trust you. They should have left you on the desert planet with your slave mother. I don't care about your midichlorian count. Cain is a better youngling than you and will be a better Jedi than you ever will."
That made the other younglings go quiet. I felt a tremor in the Force. Then I felt an actual tremor in the training room. Three nearby Muntuur stones lifted into the air. Dust rippled beneath them.
Anakin's teeth clenched as his hand gestured in a raising motion. "Don't you talk about my mother or being a slave. You know nothing about either. Can you understand working in the hot sun for hours, then getting punished for not doing your job well enough? Having sand enter and burn your wounds? Because I do."
The boy stared, speechless. Even Seris, Derren, and Barriss were shocked at Anakin's display. Then I moved. I stepped beside Anakin. I remained calm, placing a soft hand on his shoulder.
"Put it down. You're better than this," I said.
Anakin looked at me, then around at the others. They were looking at him in a mix of surprise and fear. He then breathed and centered himself. "You're right. I shouldn't have...."
"I know," I said in a calm tone. "But doing this doesn't help you."
Anakin nodded and lowered the Muntuur stones. They landed on the temple floor with a soft thud. I turned to the others, my voice low and calm. "You mock him for having love for his mother. For caring and being a slave. But what you're really mocking is something you don't understand. And instead of trying to understand him, you choose to stay ignorant."
The one Initiate sneered. "We're not supposed to have attachments."
My golden eyes flared. "No. We're not supposed to let attachments control us. But cutting them off? Pretending we don't feel anything? That's not strength. That's fear and ignorance."
The training hall was silent. Then Master Sinube spoke up. "Well said, youngling Cain. I think that is enough dueling for today. Let's take a break, then we shall go into meditations."
I noticed at the entrance of the hall was Obi-Wan, standing there, just watching us—or mostly Anakin.
"You should go talk to him," I said to Anakin. He nodded and ran over to Obi-Wan, and they proceeded to talk.
Later that night, in the lower meditation chamber, Seris approached me as I sat meditating in the air. I slowly came out of my trance as I felt her approach.
"Anakin almost lost control today," she said with her arms crossed.
I opened my eyes. "He got a little emotional, but he did not lose control."
"Why are you protecting him? This is why the Council is wary of him."
Sometimes I forget this girl is still so stubborn. She's making progress, but her attitude still needs some work.
"We are his friends, Seris. We need to stand by him. I don't follow the rules. In fact, I break them just like him, in fact, we all do. We just make sure not to get caught. Are you saying he's different because he doesn't hide it, or because he's not me?"
Seris frowned, her ears twitching. "That's not what I mean. He should let it go. That's what we're taught. Inner peace and detachment. Why is he still clinging to something that hurts him?"
I took a long breath. My voice was soft and tired.
"Because he still loves her. If you look up the stories of Nomi Sunrider, her love and attachment to her family helped save the universe. Or when Revan used his love to help save Bastila Shan from the dark side. His love and attachment to Bastila and their child also helped keep the Sith Emperor at bay for three hundred years."
Seris looked at me with confusion. "We didn't learn about those in classes. How do you know all that stuff happened?"
Oh yeah, I forgot. I know more than she does, technically, about the true Jedi history, or I have more context than she does.
I looked up at her with a sad smile. "I sliced the Library records and found the original version of the Jedi's and galaxy's history."
"You what? Cain, you could get in serious trouble for that," Seris said.
"Then it's a good thing you won't tell on me," I said with a small smile on my face.
Seris only blushed, her ears twitching.
The next morning, I arrived at the circular meditation chamber where Master Yoda conducted group sessions. The chamber was already filling with younglings from various clans, about thirty initiates in total, settling into neat rows on meditation cushions.
Master Yoda stood at the front, his gimer stick resting against his leg, his eyes surveying the assembled younglings with that penetrating gaze that seemed to see straight through to your soul.
I found my usual spot near the back, where the five of us typically gathered. Seris was already there, her platinum hair pulled back in a practical braid, her silver eyes bright with morning alertness. She nodded as I sat beside her.
"You're late," she murmured.
"I'm exactly on time," I countered.
"Which means you're late, at least by your own standards." She then studied my face with that disconcerting intensity she'd developed over the years. "Couldn't sleep?"
"Yeah, same old, so I meditated," I admitted quietly.
Her expression softened. "Oh. That's right. You're ten years old today." She paused, then added with a small smile, "You're ancient now. Practically decrepit."
"Says the girl who's eleven," I shot back.
"Eleven and three months," she corrected primly. "A significant difference. Plus, I'm a Sephi. We age gracefully." She said it mockingly.
Even though we were both Sephi, it was cute to see her joke around somewhat.
Derren arrived next, dropping into place on my other side with his characteristic easy grace. "Morning," he said, his deep voice still rough with sleep. "What are we arguing about?"
"Cain's advanced age," Seris said.
"Ah." Derren nodded sagely. "Yes, ten is quite elderly. We should probably start planning his retirement."
"You're both hilarious," I said dryly.
Barriss settled in beside Seris. "Anyone else get that weird feeling earlier? The Force is turbulent this morning," she said quietly. "Something's wrong."
I nodded. I felt it too, a disturbance in the currents, like storm clouds gathering on the horizon. Then a question occurred to me. "Where's Anakin?"
"Haven't seen him," Derren said, frowning.
"He's usually early for meditation."
Before I could respond, Master Yoda tapped his gimer stick against the floor. The sharp crack echoed through the chamber, instantly silencing all conversation.
"Begin we shall," Yoda announced. "But first, address a matter we must." His gaze swept across the assembled younglings, and I felt a chill run down my spine. "Absent, young Skywalker is. Know his whereabouts, does anyone?"
Silence.
Then, from the front row, a Rodian boy named Teeko raised his hand. "Master Yoda, I saw him in the dormitory halls earlier. He looked... upset."
"Upset?" Yoda's ears twitched. "Elaborate, you will."
Teeko shifted uncomfortably. "Some of the older initiates were... talking. About him. He heard them and ran off."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.
"Talking," Yoda repeated, his voice dangerously soft. "What manner of talking?"
No one answered.
Yoda's gaze hardened. "Speak, someone will. Or consequences there shall be for all."
Finally, a human girl named Lira spoke up, her voice small.
"They were saying things about where he came from. About his mother. About how he's too old to be here, how he doesn't belong..."
"Enough." Yoda's voice cracked like a whip. "Disappointed, I am. Taught you better, we have. The Jedi way, this is not."
He turned to survey the room, and I saw genuine anger in his ancient eyes—a rare sight that made several younglings flinch.
"Find young Skywalker, someone must," Yoda said.
"Cain. This task, to you I give. Close to Skywalker, you are."
I stood immediately, bowing. "Yes, Master."
"Go. Quickly."
I left the chamber at a run, my heart pounding. Behind me, I heard Yoda begin a lecture on compassion and the dangers of judgment, his voice stern and unforgiving. But my focus was on Anakin.
I reached deep into the Force, searching for his bright blue-silver-white light in the void. It took me a moment to find him, his presence and light were turbulent, chaotic, like a star on the verge of going supernova.
And he was in the lower meditation chambers. The ones that were supposed to be empty this time of day.
I ran faster. The lower meditation chamber was one of the oldest parts of the Temple, built into the foundation itself. The walls were ancient stone, worn smooth by millennia of use, and the air always felt heavier here, thick with the accumulated weight of countless Jedi who'd meditated in this space over the centuries.
I heard the destruction before I saw it. The sound of stone grinding against stone, of metal shrieking as it bent, of the Force itself screaming in protest.
I burst through the doorway and froze. The chamber was in chaos.
Meditation cushions floated in the air, spinning slowly like planets in orbit. The bronze braziers that normally held incense had been torn from their moorings and hung suspended near the ceiling. And the stones, massive blocks of foundation stone that should have been immovable, were rising from the floor itself, pulled free by sheer Force power.
At the center of it all stood Anakin. His small body was rigid, his arms outstretched, his face contorted with anguish and rage. Tears streamed down his cheeks, but his blue eyes burned with an intensity that was almost frightening. The Force swirled around him like a visible storm, distorting the air, making my ears pop from the pressure.
"Anakin!" I shouted over the roar.
He didn't seem to hear me. His lips were moving, and I caught fragments of words: "not a slave, not broken, not too old, she's not, she's not...."
One of the floating stones cracked down the middle with a sound like thunder.
I reached for the Force, trying to project calm, trying to reach him through the chaos. But his power was immense, overwhelming, a tidal wave that threatened to sweep away anything in its path.
The door behind me burst open. Master Windu strode in. Behind him came Master Koon, his masked face unreadable but his concern evident in his body language.
"Skywalker!" Mace's voice cut through the chaos like a blade. "Control yourself!"
Anakin's eyes snapped to him, and for a moment, I saw something terrifying in that gaze, not darkness exactly, but potential. The potential to become something vast and terrible and unstoppable.
"I can't!" Anakin screamed, and his voice broke on the words. "I can't make it stop! They said, they said she's probably dead by now, that slaves don't live long, that I should just forget about her, but I can't..."
Another stone cracked. The walls began to tremble.
Mace moved forward, his hand outstretched, his own Force presence expanding to contain Anakin's power. But even he was struggling, I could see the strain in his face, the way his jaw clenched with effort.
"Cain," Plo Koon said quietly. "He trusts you. Can you reach him?"
I didn't hesitate. I walked forward, directly into the storm of Anakin's power. The Force buffeted me like physical wind, trying to push me back, but I pressed on. Meditation cushions spun past my head. A bronze brazier nearly clipped my shoulder.
I didn't stop. "Anakin," I said, and my voice was calm, steady, cutting through the chaos. "Look at me."
His wild eyes found mine.
"I know it hurts," I said, taking another step closer. "I know what they said was cruel and wrong and unfair. I know you're angry and scared and you miss her so much it feels like your chest is being torn open."
"You don't know," Anakin choked out. "You don't..."
"I do," I said firmly. "I know exactly what it feels like to lose someone you love. To be powerless to help them. To lie awake at night wondering if they're suffering, if they're afraid, if they're thinking about you."
The stones trembled but didn't fall.
"But Anakin," I continued, moving closer still, "this...." I gestured at the chaos around us, "....this isn't helping her. This isn't helping you. This is just pain eating itself, growing bigger and bigger until it consumes everything."
"I don't know how to stop it," he whispered, and he sounded so young, so lost.
"Yes, you do," I said gently. "You just have to let it flow through you instead of holding onto it. Feel the anger, feel the fear, feel the love, feel all of it. But then let it go. Like water through your fingers. Acknowledge it, honor it, and release it."
"The Jedi say...."
"The Jedi say a lot of things," I interrupted. "Some of them are wise. Some of them are just... rules made by people who were afraid of their own feelings. You don't have to suppress your emotions, Anakin. You just have to understand them. To feel them fully and then let them pass."
I was close enough now to reach out and touch his shoulder. The Force still swirled around us, but it was calming, the storm beginning to subside.
"Your mother loves you," I said quietly. "And that love doesn't disappear just because you're apart. It's not a weakness. It's not something to be ashamed of. It's the most powerful thing in the galaxy."
"But the Code and the Masters say..."
"The Code says there is no emotion, there is peace," I said. "But that doesn't mean no emotion. It means not being controlled by emotion. There's a difference. You can love your mother and still be a Jedi. You can miss her and still be strong. You can feel everything you're feeling right now and still be the person you're meant to become. Whether the Masters agree or not."
"You don't have to prove yourself to them, but to the Force itself."
Anakin's face crumpled. "I just want her to be safe."
"I know," I said. "And we're going to make sure she is. I promise you, Anakin, we're going to find a way to free her. To bring her somewhere safe. But first, you have to be okay. You have to learn to carry this love without letting it destroy you."
Slowly, carefully, I pulled him into a hug. For a moment, he was rigid, resistant. Then he collapsed against me, sobbing, and the Force storm finally broke.
The stones fell.
They didn't crash, they settled gently, guided by Mace Windu's power, returning to their places in the floor as if they'd never moved. The meditation cushions drifted down like leaves. The bronze braziers righted themselves.
And Anakin cried in my arms, his small body shaking with the force of his grief and fear and love. I held him and let him cry. In that moment, I felt like something connected us, I couldn't tell what, but I felt what he felt. And I understood and accepted his feelings.
Behind us, I felt Mace Windu and Plo Koon's presence in the Force, watchful and full of concern, but they chose not to intervene. They understood that this was something Anakin needed, and they trusted me.
Then the storm passed.
An hour later, I sat with Anakin in one of the smaller meditation rooms, just the two of us. He'd cried himself out and now sat quietly, his face blotchy and his eyes red, but calmer than I'd seen him in weeks.
"I'm sorry," he said for the third time.
"Stop apologizing," I said gently. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"I almost destroyed the meditation chamber."
"Almost," I agreed. "But you didn't. And more importantly, you learned something."
He looked at me questioningly.
"You learned that your power responds to your emotions," I said. "That when you're in pain, the Force amplifies it. That's not a weakness, Anakin, that's just how you're built. Some Jedi are naturally calm, naturally controlled. And you're not one of them. And that's okay. I'm the same way."
"Master Windu didn't look like he thought it was okay," Anakin muttered.
"Master Windu is concerned," I corrected. "There's a difference. He's seen what happens when powerful Jedi or Force users lose control. He's trying to protect you, and everyone else, from that possibility."
"By making me suppress everything?"
"No," I said firmly. "By teaching you to understand everything. To feel your emotions fully, acknowledge them, and then let them flow through you instead of damming them up inside."
I paused, considering how much to share. Then I made a decision.
"Anakin, can I tell you something? Something I've learned from studying Jedi history?"
He nodded.
"The Jedi Order has changed a lot over the millennia," I said. "There was a time when Jedi were allowed to marry, to have families, to love openly. There were Jedi who felt deeply and passionately and still served the light. But then there were tragedies, Jedi who fell to darkness because they couldn't handle loss, couldn't let go of the people they loved. And the Order responded by creating stricter rules. No attachments. No passion. No emotion."
"But that's the Code," Anakin said.
"The Code is a guideline," I said. "Not a prison. And I think, I know, that the Order has gone too far in one direction. They've confused emotional control with emotional suppression. They've mistaken detachment for not caring. And that's dangerous in its own way."
Anakin was listening intently now, his blue eyes fixed on my face.
"You're going to feel things more intensely than most Jedi," I continued. "You're going to love more fiercely, fear more deeply, anger more quickly. That's not a flaw in your character—that's just who you are. And if you try to suppress all of that, if you try to become some emotionless statue, you're going to break. Or worse, you're going to explode."
"So what do I do?" he asked, and there was desperation in his voice.
"You learn to feel everything and let it pass," I said. "You acknowledge your anger without acting on it. You feel your fear without being paralyzed by it. You love deeply without becoming possessive or controlling. You experience your emotions fully, honor them, and then release them back into the Force."
"That sounds impossible."
"It's hard," I admitted. "Probably the hardest thing you'll ever do. But Anakin, you're not alone in this. You have us. The five of us. We're going to help you learn. We're going to catch you when you fall. We're going to remind you who you are when you forget."
He was quiet for a long moment. Then: "Why are you helping me? Really?"
I met his eyes. "Because I see who you could become. And it's extraordinary. But I also see the paths you could take to get there, some of them light, some of them dark. And I want to make sure you take the right one."
"You sound like you can see the future."
"Sometimes I can," I said honestly. "Not clearly. Not perfectly. But enough to know that you're important, Anakin. More important than you realize. The choices you make, the person you become, it's going to affect the entire galaxy."
His eyes widened. "That's... that's a lot of pressure."
"It is," I agreed. "But you don't have to carry it alone. That's what I'm trying to tell you. We're in this together. All five of us. We're going to face whatever comes as a team."
Anakin nodded slowly, and I saw something shift in his expression, fear giving way to determination, isolation giving way to hope.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "For coming after me. For not giving up on me."
"Never," I said firmly. "I will never give up on you, Anakin Skywalker. That's a promise."
That afternoon, I gathered the younglings who'd been involved in the mockery. There were seven of them, ranging in age from nine to twelve, from various clans and species. They sat in a circle in one of the smaller training rooms, looking uncomfortable and defensive.
I stood in the center, my arms crossed, my expression serious.
"Do you know why you're here?" I asked.
Silence.
"Let me clarify," I said. "You're here because you were cruel. You looked at someone who was already struggling, already in pain, and you made it worse. Because you forgot the most basic principle of being a Jedi, compassion."
"We were just talking," Teeko muttered.
"You were gossiping," I corrected sharply. "You were judging someone based on circumstances beyond their control. You were mocking a child for missing his mother, for coming from slavery, for being different from you. And you did it loud enough for him to hear. That's not 'just talking.' That's cruelty."
Several of them had the grace to look ashamed.
"Anakin Skywalker is nine years old," I continued. "He was born in slavery and was one up until coming to the Temple. He was separated from the only family he's ever known. He's trying to adapt to a completely new way of life, to learn skills that the rest of us have been practicing since we were toddlers. And instead of helping him, instead of showing him compassion, you made him feel like he doesn't belong."
"But he doesn't," Lira said quietly. "He's too old. Everyone knows that. The Masters say..."
"The Masters say a lot of things," I interrupted. "But they also still accepted Anakin into the Order. They saw his potential. They recognized that he deserves a chance. And who are you to decide otherwise?"
I let that sink in for a moment.
"Here's what you're going to learn today," I said. "You're going to learn that emotions aren't the enemy. That feeling things, even difficult things, doesn't make you weak. The goal isn't to become emotionless droids, but to become people who can feel deeply and still act with wisdom and compassion."
I sat down, joining the circle. "Close your eyes. All of you, reach out to the Force."
They obeyed, though some looked skeptical.
"Now," I said, "I want you to think about a time when you felt excluded. When you felt like you didn't belong. When someone made you feel small or worthless or wrong."
I felt the shift in the room as they accessed those memories. Pain rippled through the Force, old hurts, childhood wounds, moments of rejection and shame.
"Feel it," I said quietly. "Don't push it away. Don't suppress it. Just feel it. Let yourself remember what that was like."
The room was heavy with emotion now, sadness, anger, fear, loneliness.
"Now," I continued, "I want you to imagine that feeling multiplied by a hundred. Imagine being torn away from your mother, the only person who's ever loved you unconditionally. Imagine being brought to a place where everyone is better than you at everything, where you're constantly reminded that you're too old, too emotional, too different. Imagine lying awake at night wondering if your mother is safe, if she's being hurt, if she's thinking about you."
Several of the younglings were crying now.
"That's what Anakin feels," I said. "Every single day. And when you mock him, when you judge him, when you make him feel like he doesn't belong, you're adding to that pain. You're making it worse."
I let them sit with that for a moment.
"Open your eyes," I said.
They did, and I saw understanding in their faces now. Shame, yes, but also empathy.
"The Jedi Code says there is no emotion, there is peace," I said. "But I think that's been misunderstood. It doesn't mean we should have no emotions. It means we shouldn't be controlled by our emotions. We should feel them, acknowledge them, learn from them, and then let them go."
"How?" Teeko asked, and his voice was small.
"By practicing," I said. "By being honest with ourselves about what we're feeling and why. By talking about it instead of bottling it up. By supporting each other instead of tearing each other down."
I stood up. "You're all going to apologize to Anakin. Not because I'm making you, but because it's the right thing to do. And then you're going to do better. You're going to be the kind of Jedi who lifts others up instead of pushing them down. Understood?"
Nods all around.
"Good," I said. "Now get out of here. And think about what kind of person you want to be."
They filed out quietly, subdued and thoughtful. Wile I stayed behind, feeling the weight of what I'd just done. I'd essentially contradicted orthodox Jedi teaching. I'd encouraged emotional expression instead of suppression. I'd challenged the Code itself.
The Council wasn't going to like this. But I didn't care. Because I'd seen what people like Vader, Krayt, and Jerec were capable of. And I would do whatever it took to prevent that future.
That evening, Seris found me on the upper balcony.
I was standing at the railing, watching the sun set over Coruscant's endless cityscape. The sky was painted in shades of amber and crimson, and the first stars were beginning to appear overhead. We kept each other company without saying a word.