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Anakin Skywalker is on the path to become one of the greatest figures on the galactic scene. If you want to read an original story of greatness, you can check my story, Arrival : Ruptures. Comments, likes and reviews are appreciated. Here are the links for : AO3, Spacebattles, Royal Road and Webnovel.
—
27 BBY
Tatooine
Mos Espa
He walked into the junk shop, covered by a cloak. He didn't know what brought him back to this place, but one thing was for sure. He wanted revenge. The tracking device in his body might be gone.
The hatred in his heart remained.
"Ah, welcome, welcome. The best prices for the highest quality parts in all of Mos Espa."
Anakin smiled, his back still turned to the Toydarian. He knew just how much these parts were worth and what state they were in. His claim was as true as sand was valuable.
He raised his hands, going through the signs. The spell was overkill for a bug like Watto, but he wanted to savor this moment. Four crimson bands sprung out of his hands, coiling around the alien like serpents, squeezing. His wings were crushed to his body, grounding him, while one kept the trunk pressed to the chest, silencing him.
"Hello Watto."
The Toydarian's eyes widened and he muttered something in haste, most likely his name. It might have been years, but he had not changed too much to be unrecognizable.
Anakin stood there with the squirming slaver in his grasp. He had prepared a big speech. He wanted to shout and scream and curse. For all the times he was ordered around, used and treated like cattle, he wanted to let the galaxy know.
No longer.
The words died in his throat.
He was still angry but felt no need to spend time with words. What use would Watto have for words in death? The Toydarian was struggling between the bands, his moans growing frantic.
He created a longsword, golden and transparent, and swung it. The Toydarian's struggles ceased for a moment, only his eyes quivering. His fat belly slid open, letting the organs fall out. The cut grew bigger, and the parts only stayed together by the spine.
His stomach recoiled at the viscera.
The bands disappeared, dropping the corpse to the ground with a wet slap. He didn't have to worry about security, as Watto was too cheap to have cameras installed. He glanced at the corpse one last time and left the junkyard.
He had always thought killing wouldn't be so easy, that he would feel remorse, yet there was nothing in his heart.
This was an important step, but by no means was it the last.
—
While he was not allowed to act yet, it didn't mean he could not prepare. The Astral Dimension was the perfect tool to spy. He was not seen, heard, or detected in any way. He witnessed Jabba's cruelty, the Rancors, and all the cruelty his sick mind produced for entertainment.
He engraved each act on his memory. When the time came, he would make Jabba pay a thousand fold.
Positions of every guard and every defensive measure, the secret paths, and more were laid bare before him. He also witnessed Jabba's meetings with the other Hutts, learning more and more each time.
One way or another, the rule of the Hutts in the Outer Rim would end.
Though there were more important matters to solve now.
—
Sanctum Sanctorum
"Where might you be going at this hour?"
Anakin froze at the sound, seeing his teacher inside the artifact room, reading a book in lamplight. He was always asleep at this time, which meant he was caught.
"There is going to be a big slave transport in a couple of hours. I am going to stop it," he said, looking his teacher in the eyes with an unwavering gaze. Strange merely raised an eyebrow, turning the page.
"Really, Ani?" another voice asked from behind.
He hung his head.
He turned to his mother. If she asked him to stay, he could not deny her. "I swear it's not dangerous. I am just going to take the ship over. There aren't that many pirates aboard."
"I find it difficult to believe that the ship wouldn't be escorted," his teacher added quite unhelpfully.
"I have a plan; I am not just going to rush ahead and get myself killed," he said, gesturing to the crates he had brought.
Watto's shop had all the parts he needed to deactivate the tracking devices.
Strange closed the book, rising to his feet, looking every bit the warrior he was. He had rarely seen him so intense. "We can achieve only so much with training. He needs experience, and I am afraid there is no safe way to get it."
Shmi looked at Stephen, biting her lip. She hated to send her boy to war, yet Anakin would never stop, only be more discrete. "Promise me you will come back alive and well."
"I promise," he said, squeezing her hand.
"Then go and do what you are meant to be doing," she said, with a wavering smile, finally giving her blessing.
Anakin nodded and prepared to open a portal.
"Go with him. Just because I am stuck here doesn't mean you should be too," his teacher said.
The edges of the cloak fluttered before it left his shoulders, wrapping around Anakin's. His apprentice smiled, giving a small nod, and left.
—
The ship was in the orbit of the planet. The pirates knew better than to land and transport their catch without negotiating properly first.
He dropped onto the bridge, already knowing how many pirates there would be. One on comms, one at the helm, and another on weapons.
"What the?!" The comms officer leaped to his feet, reaching for his blaster. Three knives flew and found their marks before his hand touched the handle.
All three dropped.
He followed by setting the ship on a course to the Mid Rim Territories on a timer and bringing the crates to the bridge.
"Tres, the captain wants to see you. " A Trandoshan, one of the toughest races out there, stood in the door, his reptilian eyes locking on him. Anakin glared back, waiting. His dark pupils snapped to the dead Weequays, and he grinned. "Well, well, it has been some time since I had a challenge," he declared, hands stretched over his blasters.
Anakin launched a hail of knives faster than the orange alien could react. His bloodthirsty grin froze, slowly melting into a one of realization as a dozen knives pierced through. The Trandoshan fell, bleeding, and knowing how resilient they were, he sent another one straight to the brain.
The reptilian alien twitched one last time and went still.
He floated over, blades hovering around him. He felt the enemy before he saw them, guiding the projectiles beyond his line of sight. There were grunts and thuds. By the time he turned the corner, three pirates lay on the ground, two dead and one barely clinging onto life.
Anakin put an end to his struggle.
—
"Move, you witless banthas. There is an intruder on the ship!" Garthas screamed, kicking a Weequay forward. "Someone get those droids online." He had spent a fortune on them, though it was the first time he had to use them inside his ship.
Two droidekas rolled forward, curled into balls, approaching the corridor where his crew was being slaughtered. He didn't know how a Jedi had gotten on board, but the bastard would die for the damages he had caused.
He followed.
Once in position, the droids unfurled their weapons and shield, firing at an astonishing rate to destroy their enemies with extreme prejudice.
The Jedi stood before the fire, doing something with his hands. The space before him turned glassy and broken. The fire rate, which had eliminated entire groups of stubborn defenders, failed to reach him.
The glossy surface slammed into their position, and he saw nothing else.
—
Anakin floated over the corpses broken to hundreds of pieces. He counted thirteen, and the GR-75 medium transport ship needed around half of the numbers as crew to function. Since security was important, they actually had twenty in total.
He knew the rest were in the transport section, keeping an eye on the cargo.
He floated inside, jabbing a knife into the neck of the first pirate, putting him down in his sleep.
The cargo section was transformed to hold ten cells, each carrying two hundred people inside, packed together like animals.
Worse than that.
Three on the upper floor, three on the lower floor, and one at the door who was already dead. One knife, thin, sharp, almost invisible to the eye, flew out. The first one, a Rodian, was watching the inside of a cell. The knife went through his brain, his face slacking before he fell. The next moment, Weequay heard the commotion and turned around, seeing a golden shimmer that left a hole through his eye. The pieces of Ishi Tib's shattered beak met the ground before the pirate did.
He moved up.
A sleeping Weequay died the most painlessly; a Trandoshan took some work, and the last member, a Nikto, was relieved of the burden of his head.
He stood there, waiting for a reason he did not know. He moved since time was of the essence, opening the cells and releasing the people.
They began to come out, most thinking they were ready to be offloaded, some who had seen the guards die believing they were free. He had already brought several deactivator wands. It was user-friendly, so even they could deactivate the chips without an issue.
One of the slaves, a human man, approached him. Anakin spoke first.
"The pirates are dead and you are free. There are scanners and deactivator wands in the bridge. The ship will enter hyperspace in a couple of minutes to the Mid Rim Territories."
"No questions," he said, turning around to leave.
Once sufficiently away from the silent, baffled people, he opened a portal just as the ship began to enter hyperspace.
—
Northern Dune Sea
"What?!" Jabba roared, his massive form rolling in waves as his oversized eyes narrowed at the screen. "What do you mean the slaves escaped?"
"They killed the crew and took the ship. We don't know where they are gone."
"Then find them. Or you won't see a single peggat."
"Yes, exalted Jabba," the Trandoshan said, bowing.
"Send out bounty hunters. No one steals what is mine and lives. I want those slaves found and brought back or dead before they reach Republic territory."
His servants scrambled to carry out their orders.
—
Mos Espa
Sanctum Sanctorum
He returned an hour later, finding both adults awake, waiting.
"How did it go?"
"Not even a scratch. The slaves are off to Republic territory."
"Don't get cocky, kid. This wasn't even a battle. If you let your guard down, you will be in trouble."
"I know better than to underestimate my enemy."
"Good. We are going to increase the difficulty of your training. If you are going to war, I want you to be at your best."
"Bring it on."
—
Perhaps he was too hasty.
His teacher stopped holding back, and Anakin found himself eating sand every day. The combat training became deadly, especially with the training droids he had built at Strange's behest. Not only that, but his teacher had begun to use higher-level spells, such as the Images of Ikon.
Fighting multiple enemies that outclassed him brought him down to reality.
He learned elemental spells, starting with the Winds of Watoomb. He was tested on when, where, and how to use them, often in situations that would be deadly to ordinary people. Each day, he progressed, and each day, the training became harder.
Anakin loved the challenge.
Most of all, he learned to not be afraid of failure. Or rather, be furious at failing.
—
"Damn it!" His voice rang across the cave, his hand bleeding as he hit his fist too hard.
"Calm down Anakin," Strange said, dismissing his sword.
Anakin's head snapped up, an ugly sneer on his face. "Don't tell…"
Strange took a step forward, squinting his eyes ever so slightly. "I won't."
"Sorry," Anakin said, the sneer falling apart, realizing he had stepped out of the line.
A wave of his teacher's hand dismissed it for now. "Tell me, why do you feel so furious at losing? What makes you fear it so much?"
"I don't fear it. It's just…" He couldn't find the words to describe the reason. How was he supposed to when he felt like this as long as he lived, all without having learned what it was?
"I am waiting."
"If I fail, how am I supposed to protect people I love?"
Strange took a deep breath. "You can't protect anyone forever. There will come a day when you must let them leave the nest and chart their own path."
"Am I supposed to leave my mother?" His student's narrowed eyes told him how dissatisfying the idea was.
"No. You are supposed to let her live her life the way you want. You fear for her safety for understandable reasons. It doesn't mean she would want you to do that for your entire life." As a slave, with no safety, Anakin had naturally developed a fear of failing, which would lead to punishment. Not for him since he was a gifted mechanic, but for his mother.
He laid a hand on the boy's shoulder, seeing how tall he had grown. "This is a part of free will, Anakin. People make their choices and live with the consequences, good or bad. Do you think your choice to fear failure is a good one, or does it just harm you and potentially the very people you love? Do you think your mother would want to spend her entire life being sheltered by you in the Sanctum? Why, you might as well imprison her here."
Anakin's obsession to always succeed would be his downfall. If someone offered him the wrong path to a solution, he would take it if he were desperate enough.
He sat down, feeling the words of his teacher clash with the feeling in his heart. They both feared failure for different reasons, yet he felt the ending would be the same.
A great loss.
His teacher had lost the fine motor skills that made him one of the best neurosurgeons in his world. What would he lose if faced with a similar situation?
His family? His ability to fight?
He didn't know and he didn't ever want to find out.
He opened his eyes, wiping the single teardrop gathered on his tear duct. He exhaled, releasing the chains around his heart.
"Thank you," he said, taking a battle stance again.
Strange gave a short bow and faced his apprentice once more.
—
The Cloak of Levitation, his master's artifact, had also chosen him in quite the interesting dilemma.
Strange couldn't leave the Sanctum, and the cloak had no need to do so. Yet, there was a whole galaxy out there. It would be more useful to give the cloak to his apprentice rather than let it gather dust.
At long last, however, it was the time.
—
In the next chapter:
"From this day forward, there will be no more slavery," the boy ordered, watching the stunned crowd, and Jabba screamed in pain as the cage shrunk, enough to hurt but not enough to kill immediately.
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