Derren attention remained fixed upon the tall, dark-haired young man standing several meters away, whose blue-white lightsaber hummed steadily in his right hand.
He was The, Exar Kun.
The name alone carried enough historical significance, as one of the biggest mistkaes in the Old Order's history. So any Jedi in his place would hesitate before accepting a duel, but the man before him looked nothing like the monstrous Sith Lord depicted in ancient records. He wore ordinary Jedi robes, his expression was confident rather than openly malicious, and his presence within the Force seemed bright, powerful, and extraordinarily ambitious.
If anything, he reminded Derren of a more arrogant version of Anakin. Actually, no. That's unfair to Anakin. At he occasionally listens when someone tells him he's being reckless and idiot. Derren almost laughed at the comparison.
Kun adjusted his grip, his slate-gray eyes glinting with amusement as he studied the younger Padawan. "Well, Derren, are we going to stand here admiring each other's lightsabers, or are you going to show me what you can do?"
Derren rotated his wrist, allowing the snow-white blade of his lightsaber to settle diagonally across his body. "I was waiting for you to finish admiring yourself."
Kun chuckled, apparently entertained rather than offended. "Good. You've got a sense of humor. I appreciate that." He stepped forward, his robes shifting around his legs as he settled into a balanced opening stance. "Let's hope your lightsaber skills are just as interesting."
Derren smiled. "Only one way to find out."
The two Padawans moved. Their first exchange was almost deceptively slow.
Kun advanced with a measured diagonal cut aimed toward Derren's upper guard, and Derren answered with a compact Soresu deflection, rotating his white blade just enough to redirect the attack away from his shoulder.
Blue-white light slid against white. The weapons separated with a sharp hiss, and Derren immediately stepped sideways, testing the taller man's reaction with a short thrust toward his ribs.
Kun intercepted it without difficulty. He shifted his footing and attempted to catch Derren's blade against his own, but Derren withdrew before the bind could develop and circled toward the ancient temple staircase.
Neither pressed the advantage. Instead, they continued exchanging controlled strikes, testing one another's reach, timing, and defensive habits.
Kun's technique was immediately recognizable to anyone familiar with the classical lightsaber forms. His foundation lay in Form VI, Niman, but Derren noticed there was nothing mediocre about his execution. He combined fluid blade movements with precise footwork, using the balanced principles of the sixth form to move seamlessly between offense, defense, and limited Force enhancement. Derren found this approach interesting.
Niman had a reputation among some combat-oriented Jedi as a compromise between more specialized disciplines, but Kun demonstrated just how dangerous that balance could become in the hands of someone with extraordinary talent. He never committed himself completely to one type of attack.
A sweeping strike might become a thrust halfway through its motion, while a defensive parry could transition directly into a Force-assisted step designed to disrupt Derren's footing.
Oh He's good. Derren deflected another strike and retreated two steps. He's really good.
Kun smiled as their weapons met again. "You're rather defensive for someone using Ataru."
Derren raised an eyebrow. "You're rather talkative for someone who said he wanted to fight."
Kun laughed.
Their blades separated, and Kun stepped forward with a rapid combination that forced Derren to shift into a tighter defensive circle. Derren intercepted the first strike near his shoulder, redirected the second toward the ground, and avoided the third by turning his hips instead of retreating. His movements remained relaxed, almost casual.
For someone watching from outside, it might have appeared that he was barely exerting himself. But beneath that apparent ease, his mind was working. He was measuring Kun's reach, assessing the movement of his shoulders, and observing how the older Padawan distributed his weight before each attack.
He was also discovering something mildly irritating. This guy really is as talented as the histories say, maybe even more so.
Kun suddenly accelerated, striking toward Derren's upper left side before rotating into a low attack aimed at his thigh. Derren answered with a quick Soresu parry, then transitioned into Ataru, using a Force-assisted leap to clear the incoming blade.
He landed lightly on the opposite side of Kun, spun, and delivered a horizontal strike toward the man's back.
Kun turned almost immediately. Their lightsabers collided, and the resulting impact sent a brief vibration through Derren's training suit.
Kun's smile widened. "Much better."
Derren stepped backward, still grinning. "Glad you approve."
Kun raised his weapon again, and for several seconds, neither attacked.
Then Kun shifted his stance. Derren recognized the change immediately. Oh, we're doing that now?
Kun rushed forward. His opening strike came with considerably more speed than the previous exchanges, forcing Derren to rotate his blade through a defensive circle before narrowly slipping beneath the follow-up attack. A third strike followed, then a fourth.
Derren countered with a rapid series of Ataru movements, using short leaps and sudden directional changes to prevent Kun from establishing a consistent offensive rhythm.
The two Jedi crossed the courtyard in a blur of motion. White and blue-white light flashed between the ancient columns as they exchanged increasingly complicated combinations. Kun attacked from the right, and Derren deflected the blade before twisting around his opponent's flank.
The taller Jedi pivoted, intercepting Derren's counterstrike with a compact parry before extending his free hand. A telekinetic pulse struck the stone near Derren's feet. He leaped backward just as loose fragments of masonry erupted upward, scattering across the courtyard. Derren landed on the edge of a raised platform. Kun followed, launching himself into the air with a powerful Force-assisted jump.
The two met above the ancient stones.
Their blades collided twice before Derren rotated through the air, using the momentum of the exchange to reposition himself behind the descending Padawan. Kun twisted and intercepted his next attack almost blindly. Both landed several meters apart. For a moment, the two simply stared at one another.
Then Kun laughed. "Now this is fun!"
Derren couldn't help smiling. "Yeah, I'm starting enjoying myself too!"
Kun lowered his center of gravity, his expression becoming more focused. "Then let's stop wasting time."
Derren's smile widened. " I couldn't agree more."
And with that, the pace of their duel increased again. From the observation platform, I watched the exchange with growing interest.
Derren was fighting well, extremely well, actually. But there was something familiar about the way he was conducting himself, and it wasn't entirely reassuring. He was smiling and laughing which was rare. It was the he was reacting to Kun's attacks almost effortlessly, occasionally attempting counters but never committing himself fully to an offensive sequence. It was exactly the way he'd fought during countless training sessions through the years since they were kids.
Anakin folded his arms, his expression becoming increasingly frustrated. "He's still not taking this seriously." I nodded. "Yeah. He isn't."
Seris, who stood beside me with her arms crossed, studied the projected battlefield carefully. "He's using enough strength to survive each exchange, but he isn't trying to control the duel."
Anakin shook his head. "That's Derren for you. Give him an impossible problem, and he'll spend half the time figuring out whether he can solve it without getting off his chair."
I chuckled. " That's sadly true."
"Then why choose someone like Exar Kun?" Anakin asked. "You know what happened to him."
"Because Derren needs an opponent who won't let him remain comfortable." I leaned forward against the observation railing. "Push comes to shove, Derren is a genius. He might not have Anakin's raw potential or Seris's obsession with perfecting every technique, but his natural understanding of the Force is extraordinary."
Plo Koon inclined his head. "That is something Master Kuro has remarked upon several times."
Yoda watched the holographic exchange another series of strikes. "Great ability, young Talvos possesses. Yet content to remain where he is, he often seems."
"That's exactly the problem," I replied. I remembered the boy who had introduced himself to me during our earliest days at the Jedi Temple. Messy brown hair, bright blue eyes, and a smile that seemed impossible to extinguish. While Seris had regarded me with suspicion and Anakin had eventually challenged nearly everything I said, Derren had simply offered his friendship. He'd remained that way throughout our childhood.
Always easygoing, friendly and helpful to anyone and everyone. While occasionally being infuriating. Mainly to Seris, and remarkably difficult to motivate. But I'd also seen what happened when something genuinely mattered to him.
During his Padawan trial, he told us how he'd faced an illusion of the Temple in ruins, with frightened younglings depending upon him for protection. That trial had confronted him with his deepest insecurity: the belief that, compared with the extraordinary people surrounding him, he might never be strong enough. He hadn't responded by abandoning the children. He said he fought until he had nothing left, even when his imagined opponent attempted to convince him that the rest of us had already been killed.
Derren had passed because he understood something many more talented Jedi never learned. A Jedi didn't need to be the strongest person in the room to protect someone. He needed the courage to act. And Master Kuro had recognized that immediately.
She'd chosen Derren as her Padawan because she saw the potential for someone who could become both shield and weapon, provided he learned to stop wasting his abilities. So come on, Derren. Show me that same potential you had on Illum, and when we first came to train on Tython.
On the Yavin 4 battlefield, Kun suddenly drove forward with a series of aggressive strikes that forced Derren to retreat across the courtyard.
Derren avoided a descending cut, rolled beneath a second attack, and used the Force to propel himself sideways before Kun could trap him against one of the ancient columns.
Anakin groaned. "See? He's just running around!"
"He's conserving energy," Seris replied.
"He's avoiding commitment."
"Both can be true."
I smiled. Then I reached toward the control console. Josa, who had been monitoring the simulation's processing load, glanced at me. "Cain , what are you doing?"
"I open the advanced parameters."
She raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"
"Absolutely." I entered an authorization code and selected an additional program setting.
A warning appeared across the display. ADAPTIVE HISTORICAL PHASES — LOCKED. I touched the authorization field. The warning disappeared. SECONDARY PHASES — UNLOCKED.
Several new combat conditions appeared beneath the program's current configuration. I studied them briefly before activating the sequence.
Seris noticed. "Cain, what did you just do?"
Anakin leaned closer. "Yeah. What was that?"
I smiled. "Unlocked the next phase."
They looked at each other. "The next what?" Anakin asked.
"Each simulation opponent has several behavioral and combat profiles. Some are designed to change when specific conditions are satisfied when unlocked."
Seris frowned. "Change how?"
"That depends on the opponent."
Anakin looked toward the dome. Then back at me. "C a i n!"
I laughed. "Relax. The safety settings haven't changed."
"That's not what I'm worried about!" Josa leaned toward the display with an excited grin. "Oh, this is going to be fantastic."
I glanced toward her. "Everything stable?"
"Perfectly. The system's ready whenever the conditions are met."
I returned my attention to Derren. Let's see what happens when one of the most talented, and arrogant Padawan in ancient Jedi history meets someone who refuses to take him seriously.
Within the simulation, Derren slid backward across the courtyard, his boots scraping against the worn stone as Kun pressed another attack. His lightsaber descended in a sweeping diagonal strike.
Derren intercepted it, shifted his weight, and countered with a short thrust toward Kun's lower ribs.
Kun rotated his blade, caught the attack, and drove forward with a powerful shoulder movement that forced Derren to disengage.
Their weapons separated with a crackle of energy. Derren took a measured breath. All right. This guy's not slowing down. He'd already realized that Kun possessed exceptional talent, but the longer they fought, the more apparent the difference in their experience became. Exar Kun wasn't simply a skilled duelist. He had the confidence of someone who'd spent years being told that he possessed extraordinary potential and had begun believing no one could truly challenge him.
Derren knew that feeling. Not because he thought himself the best lightsaber duelist in the Order, but because he'd spent much of his childhood succeeding at things without needing to work particularly hard unless he was forced too. While Cain had a extremley high window of potential just second to Anakin, he pursued everything, but never became to obsessed. Seris wanted to be the best, so she refined her combat forms, and Anakin the best out of all of them pursued every challenge after challenge without ever thinking he would fail, and if he did he improved so quickly. Barriss never put herself in those positions, she stuck to what she was best at, but like him struggled in the shadow of those three. While Derren had usually been content to learn enough to accomplish whatever task stood before him.
And Master Kuro had hated that. Well, hated might be a strong word. She'd certainly made her displeasure obvious. He remembered one particularly unpleasant afternoon at the Coruscant Temple when she'd defeated him repeatedly using nothing more than a training staff.
Every time he stood, she knocked him down again. Eventually, he'd asked why she was being so difficult on him? And her answer had been painfully simple.
"Because you are satisfied with being talented, Derren, and talent is the laziest gift the Force can give someone." He'd laughed at the time, and then she'd hit him again.
Derren smiled at the memory. Master, I really hope you enjoying this. Kun advanced, and Derren met him halfway. The exchange that followed was significantly faster than anything they'd attempted before.
Kun struck with a rapid sequence of Niman attacks, alternating between compact defensive movements and sudden offensive bursts. Derren answered with Ataru, using the Force to accelerate his footwork and change angles before his opponent could establish control.
Their lightsabers collided repeatedly.
Derren stepped inside Kun's guard, attempting to exploit a brief opening near his left shoulder. Kun intercepted the attack and rotated his weapon into a powerful counterstrike. Derren twisted aside, allowing the blade to pass close to his face before leaping backward, and Kun followed.
Their weapons struck again. The taller Padawan extended his free hand, sending a telekinetic pulse toward Derren's chest. Derren redirected the attack with a controlled movement of his own hand, allowing the force to slide past him instead of resisting it directly.
The effort cost him a fraction of his concentration, and Kun immediately exploited it. His blue-white lightsaber swept toward Derren's right shoulder, forcing him into a hurried defensive parry. The impact sent a sharp vibration through the training suit.
Derren grimaced. Okay. Maybe I should stop playing around. He lowered his stance and inhaled slowly.
Kun noticed the change, and his grin widened. "Oh, so we're finally picking up the pace?" Good. I was starting to get bored." Kun's eyes brightened with unmistakable excitement. "Show me what you've really got."
Derren's white blade flashed forward, this time, his attack carried genuine intent. He advanced through a rapid Ataru sequence, using three controlled changes of direction to force Kun into a defensive posture.
Kun blocked the first strike, the second forced him to retreat half a step. The third came from an unexpected angle, forcing him to rotate his wrist and catch Derren's blade dangerously close to his shoulder.
Derren immediately shifted into Soresu, absorbing Kun's counterattack with a compact parry before transitioning back into Ataru. He leaped sideways, landed, and attacked again.
Kun laughed as their blades met. "That's more like it!"
For several seconds, the two seemed evenly matched. Derren's movements were becoming increasingly fluid, his defensive technique compensating for the taller Padawan's superior reach. He wasn't simply reacting anymore, but studying and adapting. And slowly beginning to enjoy the challenge for reasons that had nothing to do with entertaining himself.
So this is what Master Kuro meant, Kun struck toward his upper guard. Derren redirected the blade and immediately countered. The older Padawan avoided the strike by centimeters.
I've been treating every challenge like something I need to get through.
Another attack came, Derren deflected it. But maybe there's something worthwhile in pushing myself just because I can. His white blade flashed toward Kun's exposed flank. Exar retreated for the first time, and Derren smiled. Yeah. I think I'm finally starting to understand.
Exar stepped backward, examining the younger Padawan with renewed interest. His expression remained confident, but Derren could sense the change beneath it. The older Jedi had expected a talented sparring partner, perhaps someone capable of entertaining him for several minutes before eventually being overwhelmed. He hadn't expected someone who could adjust to his movements so quickly.
Kun rolled his shoulders and smiled. "You're better than I thought."
"Thanks. You're not bad yourself."
"Not bad?" Kun laughed. "Oh, I'm going to have to correct that impression." He held his lightsaber horizontally, studying the weapon for a moment before shifting his grip toward the center of its unusually long hilt.
Derren frowned. Something had changed. The lightsaber itself appeared to be responding to a mechanism he hadn't noticed before. A faint metallic click echoed across the courtyard. Then another. The hilt extended slightly as a concealed section rotated into position.
Derren's eyes widened. No way!
A second ignition mechanism activated. With a violent snap-hiss, another blue-white blade erupted from the opposite end of Kun's weapon. The original blade elongated simultaneously, and both beams shifted in intensity until their combined radiance illuminated the ancient courtyard.
The weapon was unlike the standardized double-bladed lightsabers most Jedi associated with dangerous Sith combatants. Its emitter assembly allowed Kun to vary the lengths and intensities of both blades independently, creating an extraordinary range of possible attacks.
And Derren knew exactly what that meant. Oh, I'm in trouble.
Kun raised the weapon, rotating it once through his hands. The twin blades traced a brilliant circle around his body. "Now, Derren Talvos, let's see if you can handle this."
Derren stared at the weapon. He knew enough history to recognize the design. Exar Kun's distinctive double-bladed lightsaber was one of the most famous weapons associated with the Great Sith War, a terrifying innovation used by the fallen Jedi during his rise as a Dark Lord. But the man in front of him was still dressed as a Padawan. Still smiling and carrying the seemingly innocent confidence of someone who hadn't yet embraced the darkness waiting in his future.
Cain, you absolute bastard.
From the observation platform, I watched the second blade ignite and felt a grin spread across my face. "There it is."
Anakin leaned forward. "Whoa. So he's using his lightsaber now!"
Seris's silver-gray eyes narrowed. "The emitters are changing independently. Look at the blade lengths."
Plo Koon studied the weapon with visible interest. "An unusual design. Maintaining balance with variable blade lengths would require considerable skill."
Depa nodded. "And extraordinary spatial awareness. A conventional saberstaff is dangerous enough without the reach changing between strikes."
Luminara glanced toward me. "But this is supposed to represent him before his fall."
"It did when the duel began," I replied.
Shaak Ti looked toward the control panel. "And now?"
I smiled faintly. "Now we're testing what happens when Derren faces the man history remembers."
Josa leaned over the console. "The program has unlocked its advanced combat profile. Its personality framework is also beginning to integrate additional historical characteristics."
Anakin looked toward the simulation. "Meaning?"
"Meaning that guy is about to become considerably more aggressive."
Derren apparently reached the same conclusion. He watched Kun settle into a new stance, the double-bladed weapon resting diagonally across his body. Then he inhaled slowly.
All right. He adjusted his grip. This is going to hurt.
Kun attacked, and the difference was immediate. His first movement came with such explosive speed that Derren barely managed to raise his lightsaber before the attack swept toward his shoulder.
Their weapons collided. Derren attempted to redirect the strike, only for Kun to rotate the entire staff through his hands. The second blade swept toward Derren's exposed side. He twisted away, feeling the heat of the projected weapon pass close enough to trigger a warning pulse from his training suit.
Before he could recover, Kun reversed his grip. The original blade returned from the opposite direction. Derren intercepted it with a hurried Soresu parry.
Kun pressed forward. The twin blades became a continuous storm of blue-white light, their variable lengths forcing Derren to adjust his defensive range after nearly every exchange. A strike that appeared safely outside his reach suddenly extended another half meter. An attack aimed toward his shoulder shortened unexpectedly before transforming into a thrust toward his chest.
Kun's footwork had changed as well. The balanced restraint of Niman remained within his movements, but it was now layered with the aggressive, relentless striking patterns of Juyo. He attacked with extraordinary speed and precision, using the double-bladed weapon to maintain offensive pressure from multiple directions.
Derren retreated. His white lightsaber moved in increasingly tight defensive circles as he attempted to contain the assault. Kun struck high, and Derren deflected it. The opposite blade came toward his ribs. He rotated his wrist, narrowly intercepting the attack. A third strike followed immediately, forcing him to step sideways.
Then Kun abruptly shortened one blade and extended the other, transforming what should've been a harmless sweeping movement into a dangerous thrust toward Derren's throat.
Derren ducked. The weapon passed over his head. He attempted to counter with a rapid Ataru strike, but Kun rotated the staff and intercepted him before he could complete the motion.
Their lightsabers collided, and Derren felt the impact travel through his arms.
He's stronger. Kun forced their weapons apart and immediately attacked again. Derren avoided the first strike, blocked the second, and attempted to use a Force-assisted leap to create distance.
Kun followed him. Both warriors launched themselves into the air, their lightsabers colliding repeatedly as they moved above the courtyard. Derren twisted his body, attempting to strike around Kun's extended guard.
The older Padawan anticipated the movement and swept his second blade toward Derren's exposed back. A warning sensation flashed through the Force.
Derren rotated just in time. The simulated lightsaber grazed the outer edge of his robes, producing a painful electrical pulse across his shoulder.
He landed hard and staggered.
Kun descended several paces away. His grin had widened into something almost predatory. "You're not as comfortable now, are you?"
Derren rolled his shoulder, feeling the lingering sting. "Well, I've definitely had better afternoons."
Kun laughed, then he attacked again. Derren barely managed to intercept the first strike. The second came from below, and the third targeted his wrist. While the fourth forced him into an awkward defensive posture that left his right side exposed.
Kun immediately exploited the opening. His extended blade swept toward Derren's ribs. Derren shifted his body and absorbed most of the impact through an emergency defensive maneuver, but the bodysuit under his robes still registered a glancing strike.
Pain shot across his side, and he grimaced. Damn.
Kun continued pressing forward. The double-bladed weapon moved so quickly that Derren could barely distinguish the individual attacks. He attempted to use Ataru's agility to change the direction of the exchange, but every leap created another opportunity for Kun to exploit his movement.
Kun was taller, stronger, more talented, and more experienced. And with the double-bladed weapon, he possessed a significant advantage in reach.
The Derren suddenly understood something. I'm a fool if I think I can beat Exar Kun by fighting him head-on. Yet despite the danger, something inside him refused to retreat from the challenge. He'd spent years watching Cain, Anakin, and Seris push themselves beyond their apparent limits.
He'd watched them exhaust themselves in training, pursue techniques others considered impossible for their age, and repeatedly challenge opponents who were stronger or more experienced. And he'd always been there, usually making some joke about how seriously they took everything. But part of him had genuinely believed their obsession with improvement was unnecessary.
While another part had wondered whether he was simply afraid to discover how far behind them he might be if he actually tried. Now, facing Exar Kun's relentless assault, Derren felt something unfamiliar.
Not fear or anger, but a strong desire to discover the answer. How far can I go?
Kun's double-bladed lightsaber descended toward his head. Derren raised his lightsaber, and their blades collided. And for the first time, he stopped thinking about winning the duel. He began thinking about understanding it, and himself.
Derren's breathing slowed. He could still hear the violent crackle of their lightsabers and feel the impacts traveling through his arms, but those sensations no longer dominated his attention. He remembered Master Kuro. Not the stern woman who had occasionally scolded him before the Council, nor the famously detached Jedi Master whose reputation had intimidated even experienced Knights and Masters.
He remembered her during their private training sessions. That woman who would deliberately insult his technique, disrupt his concentration, and force him to remain composed while enduring situations designed to frustrate him.
She had tried nearly everything. Mockery, exhausting him. Unpredictable attacks. Impossible and dangerous exercises. Even occasional remarks about how he might never catch up to his friends. Unfortunately for her, Derren had always been remarkably difficult to provoke. He rarely became angry, and sometimes he laughed. Other times he simply shrugged and accepted the criticism. Eventually, she'd realized that his problem wasn't emotional instability, it was the opposite.
He was so comfortable remaining calm that he often mistook calmness for progress. During one lesson, she'd stood across from him in a training chamber, her dark robes moving around her as she circled him with her purple lightsaber.
"You possess an unusually stable mind, Derren," she'd told him. "That is a valuable gift for any Jedi, but I fear you've begun treating it as an excuse to remain idle."
Derren had smiled. "Would you prefer that I became angry, Master?"
"No."
"Frustrated?"
"No."
"Then I'm a little confused."
Kuro had struck him which he defended. He'd yelped from the pressure. "Ow!"
"I would prefer that you learn the difference between being peaceful and being complacent." She'd lowered the lightsaber. "Your calm mind is a foundation, not an accomplishment. A warrior who remains composed while standing still has achieved very little if he cannot use that composure when the entire battlefield is collapsing around him."
Derren had considered her words. Then he'd asked what she wanted him to do. Kuro's expression had become unusually thoughtful. "If you favor Ataru and Soresu, then perhaps it's time you stopped treating them as separate disciplines." She'd moved toward the center of the chamber. "Ataru teaches movement, speed, and the ability to create opportunities. Soresu teaches fluid change, patience, and the preservation of energy."
She raised her lightsaber. "Most Jedi regard them as fundamentally different approaches. One seeks to overwhelm through mobility, while the other seeks to survive through defense."
Derren had nodded. "That sounds about right."
"Then perhaps you should learn to make them serve the same purpose."
He'd tilted his head. "How?"
Kuro had smiled. "By discovering the answer yourself."
Naturally, that was when she'd attacked him. Over the following years, she'd introduced him to increasingly demanding exercises designed to combine the two disciplines. He was required to maintain Soresu's compact defensive movements while continuously shifting his balance according to Ataru's principles. When he attempted to rely solely on acrobatics, she punished the unnecessary movement. When he became too defensive, she forced him to pursue an opening. And when he tried to memorize a fixed sequence, she changed the conditions until the technique became useless.
Eventually, she'd begun teaching him something else. Tutaminis. The Force technique concerned with absorbing and dissipating incoming energy. At first, Derren had practiced against harmless training emitters, learning to redirect small amounts of energy without allowing them to disrupt his concentration.
Later, Kuro introduced controlled blaster fire, charged training staffs, and exercises that required him to manage several sources of energy simultaneously. She had been very clear about the limitations.
"Do not confuse absorbing energy with becoming immune to it, Derren. A lightsaber can still remove your arm if you allow it to make contact, and an impact beyond your capacity will still break your defense."
Derren remembered rubbing his aching hands after one particularly unpleasant session. "Then what exactly is the benefit?"
"Understanding the flow of energy, young one. You do not always need to resist a force directly. Sometimes you must receive it, redirect what you can, and allow the remainder to pass without disturbing your balance." She'd approached him. "If you can combine that understanding with the precision of Soresu and the mobility of Ataru, you might develop a defensive method unlike anything I've seen."
Derren had grinned. "So I'll become unbeatable?"
Kuro had immediately struck him on the forehead. "No. You'll become less foolish."
He'd laughed.
She'd continued more seriously. "Perhaps one day, if you truly master it, people might even call you the Shield of the Jedi."
Derren remembered blinking. "The Shield of the Jedi?"
Kuro had folded her arms. "I made the title up. Don't become attached to it."
"Too late, Master. I like it." She'd sighed, and then she'd made him repeat the exercise another hundred times.
A violent impact brought Derren's attention back to the present. Kun's double-bladed lightsaber struck against his defensive guard, producing a sharp burst of light.
Derren felt the pressure, but instead of meeting it with equal force, he adjusted the angle of his wrist and allowed the attack to slide away. His breathing remained steady.
Kun immediately followed with another strike. Derren redirected it. A third attack came toward his lower ribs. He shifted his weight, allowing the blade to pass harmlessly before returning his weapon to a compact defensive position. Receive, redirect, and move.
Kun attacked again. Derren's white lightsaber moved through a small circular parry. A faint pulse of energy traveled through the contact point between their weapons. Rather than allowing the impact to disrupt his balance, Derren extended his awareness through the Force, using his developing Tutaminis technique to dissipate part of the incoming energy through his defensive movement.
The result was subtle. The weapon still struck with considerable force. His arms still felt the impact, but the pressure no longer accumulated quite as severely.
Kun attempted another combination, Derren intercepted it. Then another, and another. His movements became increasingly fluid. He stopped leaping away from attacks he could avoid with a slight change in position. He stopped attempting counters simply because an opening appeared. And he stopped treating every incoming strike as a separate problem.
Instead, he began perceiving the entire exchange as one continuous flow. The movement of Kun's shoulders. The changing reach of the double-bladed weapon, the shifting distribution of weight beneath his feet. The brief moments of commitment required before each attack.
Derren's awareness expanded until those individual details seemed to merge into a single, constantly changing pattern. He remembered the meditation exercises Master Fay had taught him after they arrived on Tython.
For weeks, she'd required him to sit beneath the rain, maintaining a delicate barrier while listening to the Force without allowing its vast presence to overwhelm his own identity. He'd failed repeatedly. Every time he tried to control the rain through sheer will, his concentration became rigid and the barrier collapsed. Every time he surrendered himself too completely to the surrounding Force, he lost the sense of stability necessary to maintain the technique.
Eventually, he'd begun to understand balance wasn't stillness. It was the ability to remain centered while everything around him continued changing. Now, surrounded by the violent storm of Exar Kun's attacks, Derren allowed that lesson to guide him.
His mind settled into a state of moving meditation. The Force flowed through his body without the desperate urgency he'd felt earlier. His breathing remained calm, each inhalation and exhalation matching the rhythm of his movements. Soresu formed the foundation of his defense. Ataru supplied the mobility necessary to redirect attacks and reposition himself. Tutaminis allowed him to manage the energy of their collisions without wasting strength resisting every impact directly.
And beneath all three disciplines was something simpler. A calm mind that had finally found a reason to act.
Kun struck, and Derren deflected. Kun changed angles, and Derren moved. Kun attempted to overwhelm him with a sequence of rapid attacks. Derren answered each one through the smallest movement necessary.
For several seconds, neither advanced, yet the balance of the duel had begun to change. And Derren was only beginning to realize it.
From the observation platform, the change was immediately apparent. Derren was no longer retreating. Exar Kun continued attacking with astonishing speed, his twin blades moving through intricate combinations of Niman and Juyo that should've forced any ordinary opponent into a desperate defense. Yet Derren remained almost perfectly centered.
His white lightsaber moved through short, precise arcs, redirecting Kun's attacks with movements so economical that he appeared to be doing very little. But whenever an opening presented itself, he shifted. A slight movement of his leading foot, a rotation of his hips, a brief Force-assisted acceleration. Then a counterstrike that forced Kun to adjust his attack.
Seris leaned forward. "No way."
Anakin's eyes widened. "Is he seriously doing that?"
Plo Koon studied the exchange with considerable interest. "An unorthodox application of two fundamentally different forms. Although I've come to expect such things from Cain's companions."
Depa nodded. "He's preserving the defensive integrity of Soresu while using Ataru's mobility to create offensive opportunities."
Yoda's ears lifted. "Impressive. But than that it is, awakening something is in him."
Anakin began grinning. "That little show-off! He's been hiding something like this from us?"
Seris shook her head slowly. "No. I don't think he has." She studied Derren's movements. "I think he's creating it as he goes."
I wanted to agree, but something else had caught my attention. Derren's presence within the Force was changing. Not becoming stronger in the ordinary sense. It was becoming more refined. The familiar sapphire-blue force light I'd associated with him since our earliest training days was beginning to brighten, its energy gathering inward rather than expanding outward.
Through our bond, I could feel his concentration becoming extraordinarily deep, and something within the simulation was responding.
"Cain?" Seris looked toward me. "What is it?"
I didn't answer immediately. Instead, I reached toward the eyepatch covering my scarred left eye. For a moment, the world around me shifted. Through one aspect of my perception, I saw the luminous currents of Force-light moving through the chamber, the participants, and the strange crystalline systems powering Josa's machine.
Through the other, I began perceiving faint possibilities and weaknesses, the delicate fault lines that my developing Shatterpoint perception revealed. The two forms of sight overlapped, and what I saw made my breath catch.
Derren's Force-light was beautiful. A deep sapphire-blue radiance flowed from around him and then flowed through him, concentrated around the center of his being before spreading outward through his limbs. But the light was condensing. Each movement seemed to draw his energy into greater alignment, and the brilliant blue glow gradually brightened toward a luminous white without losing its underlying color.
The result resembled a sapphire illuminated from within by a flawless white light. And around Exar Kun's simulated form, something equally remarkable was happening. Thin, crimson lines had begun appearing across his projected body. They were fractures, and I felt like I could sense Derren was seeing this from his own perspective.
He didn't possess my exact abilities, at least, not as far as I knew. Yet he was beginning to perceive the moments when Kun's movements became vulnerable. And he was doing it without consciously trying.
Seris touched my arm. "Cain?"
I slowly smiled. "It's Derren..."
Anakin looked toward me. "What?"
I couldn't take my eyes away from the duel. "He's truly is amazing."
Within the simulation, Derren felt something unfamiliar settle over his awareness. Time hadn't actually slowed, but his perception of the battle had changed so dramatically that Kun's attacks no longer seemed like an incomprehensible blur. He could see the beginning of each movement. The slight rotation of Kun's shoulders. The moment his wrists committed to a strike. The brief change in balance before he redirected the double-bladed weapon, and occasionally, something stranger.
Thin crimson lines appeared across the older Padawan's projected form, flickering whenever his aggressive movements created an opening. Derren didn't know what they were. He only understood that they showed him where Kun was vulnerable.
So that's it, he exhaled. I don't need to move faster than him.
Kun attacked with six consecutive strikes. Derren deflected the first two through compact Soresu circles, shifted his weight beneath the third, and redirected the fourth toward the ground. The fifth came toward his shoulder.
Instead of retreating, he stepped inward. His white lightsaber caught Kun's weapon near the emitter, guiding it away from his centerline. Then he countered.
The movement was so sudden that Kun barely managed to intercept the attack. For the first time, he stumbled backward. His eyes widened in disbelief. "What?"
Derren smiled, but Kun recovered and attacked again. Derren answered with another sequence of defensive movements, allowing the force of each strike to flow through his guard before redirecting it.
He shifted left, then right, his footwork becoming a continuous expression of Ataru's mobility without its unnecessary acrobatics.
Whenever Kun overcommitted, Derren countered. A thrust toward the ribs, a short cut toward the wrist. And a rapid strike that forced Kun to withdraw his weapon before completing another combination.
Kun frustration began rising. "What is this!?"
Derren didn't answer, he simply continued moving. Kun increased his speed, and Derren matched the rhythm. The double-bladed lightsaber became a furious storm of blue-white light, but the younger Jedi's defenses remained intact. His body moved almost effortlessly, guided by the Force and the accumulated lessons of years of training.
The harder Kun attacked, the more openings appeared. And the more openings appeared, the easier Derren found it to turn his opponent's aggression against him.
Kun snarled. "Answer me!"
Derren smiled. "You're getting awfully worked up man, chill."
Kun struck again, and Derren intercepted the attack, rotated beneath the extended blade, and delivered a counterstrike that forced the older Jedi backward. A faint sapphire-blue radiance flickered around his body. "Seriously, man. Relax. You're going to get a lot of wrinkles if you keep making that face."
Kun's gray eyes narrowed. "You arrogant little...." Derren interrupted him with another controlled counterattack. "Besides, I thought you were supposed to be the best swordsman in the Order."
Kun's expression hardened. The simulation's adaptive systems registered a sudden escalation in his aggression. For the briefest moment, his eyes flickered yellow.
Derren noticed. Ah there it is.
The darkness gathering around Kun had become almost palpable. Kun's attacks were no longer driven solely by the joy of competition. His pride had been wounded, and he was allowing that wounded pride to dictate his decisions.
"You think you're better than me?" Kun demanded, his voice carrying an unfamiliar venom. "Because you have some unusually rare crystal? Because you possess a little talent?"
Their lightsabers collided. Derren redirected the attack, and Kun struck again.
"You've been holding back this entire time!"
Derren smiled. "Well, so have you."
Kun's expression twisted. "Damn you, brat!" He launched another furious combination, and Derren deflected it almost effortlessly. "Honestly, my friend Anakin would've kicked your butt by now."
From the observation platform, Anakin smiled. "Oh, I like where this is going!"
Seris shook her head. "He's provoking him."
I nodded. "It's what he's good at."
Within the simulation, Derren continued circling Kun. "And don't even get me started on the Ice Princess. She'd have figured out your fighting style ten minutes ago."
Kun roared and swung both blades toward his head. Derren ducked beneath the attack. "She's a little scary, actually. You might like her." Another strike came, Derren deflected it. "And Barriss? She's much more levelheaded than either of us. She'd probably tell you to sit down and reconsider your life choices." Kun's face reddened with fury, causing Derren to almost laughed.
Oh, Master Kuro would hate this. Then he reconsidered, actually, she'd probably approve. He wasn't simply mocking Kun for entertainment. Every remark disrupted Exar's concentration, encouraging him to abandon precision in favor of increasingly aggressive attacks.
Derren was doing exactly what Kuro had once done to him. Testing an opponent's emotional control, while exposing impatience. And forcing mistakes through carefully applied pressure. The difference was that Derren hadn't become angry when Kuro insulted him.
Exar Kun was reacting quite differently. Derren suddenly stepped backward. He deactivated his lightsaber. Kun stopped for a fraction of a second, visibly confused. "What are you doing?"
Derren casually rotated the inactive hilt in his hand. "Honestly, Exar, I don't think I even need my lightsaber to handle you while you're acting like this."
He raised his free hand and beckoned him. "Come on."
From the observation platform, my smile vanished. No Derren.
Anakin stared. "Did he just turn off his lightsaber and mock him?"
Seris looked equally astonished. "He's either discovered something extraordinary or lost his mind."
I gripped the railing. Don't get overconfident. He's still Exar Kun.
Within the simulation, Kun stood motionless. Then his expression changed, and the amusement disappeared entirely. His double-bladed weapon spun once through his hands, its extended blades illuminating the courtyard with cold blue-white light. "You insolent little fool."
Derren maintained his relaxed stance.
Then Kun attacked. His movements were faster than before, his body becoming a blur of aggressive Force-enhanced motion as he closed the distance.
Derren moved. Not backward, but sliding sideways. He slipped beyond the first strike, allowing the extended blade to pass within centimeters of his shoulder.
Kun reversed his weapon, then Derren pivoted around his leading foot. The second blade swept past his chest. He ducked beneath a third attack, stepped around Kun's exposed flank, and avoided the fourth with a slight rotation of his shoulders.
The two moved at astonishing speed, but Derren never attempted to challenge the lightsaber directly with his bare hands. He stayed outside the lethal path of the blades, relying upon precise timing, Force-assisted footwork, and the smallest changes in position necessary to avoid being struck.
Kun became increasingly frustrated. "Stand still, damn you!"
Derren smiled. "Why? You're doing such a good job swinging at empty air."
Kun roared, and then he leaped. The Force surged through his body, propelling him high above the courtyard as he raised the double-bladed weapon for a devastating descending attack.
But Derren remained motionless.
From the observation platform, everyone leaned forward. Seris's hands tightened against the railing. "Move, Derren."
Anakin stopped smiling. "Come on, you idiot."
I watched the shatterpoints covered Kun's whole simulated form, and across the space where Derren stood.
I felt my heart begin to race. He sees them. Within the simulation, Derren watched Kun descend. For a moment, the world seemed impossibly quiet. The jungle sounds faded, the wind became distant. Even the violent hum of the double-bladed lightsaber seemed strangely muted.
Derren breathed in, and then out. He remembered Master Kuro standing before him during one of their earliest lessons. There are no perfect decisions, Derren. Only the decisions you make with what you know. He remembered the terrified younglings from his Padawan trial. He remembered the starving children in Coruscant's lower levels, forced into criminal work because the Republic had forgotten they existed, and he remembered his friends.
Cain's endless determination to change things for the better. Anakin's reckless but good natured courage. Seris's relentless discipline to be the best. Barriss's never-ending compassion.
He didn't need to become any of them, he didn't need to be the strongest. He simply needed to become the best version of himself, and that meant he can never stop improving, even if it's just by a little bit. I understand now, Master. Thank you.
Kun descended, and Derren moved. He stepped forward and outside the descending blade's path, allowing the weapon to pass beside his shoulder. His left hand caught Kun's forearm just beyond the wrist as he committed his weight to the attack. A precise Force-assisted twist disrupted Kun's grip, while Derren used his own turning momentum to redirect the falling warrior's arm away from his body.
The double-bladed lightsaber flew from Kun's hand. Before the older Jedi could recover, Derren's right thumb activated his weapon. A pure white blade erupted from the hilt. And in the same continuous rotation, Derren completed a single, impossibly fast horizontal strike. For a fraction of a second, the two warriors appeared frozen together.
Kun landed behind him.
Derren stood motionless, his lightsaber extended to one side.
Exar blinked. His expression changed from fury to bewilderment. He glanced downward, seemingly unable to understand what had happened. Then a thin line of blue-white light appeared across his neck. The simulation registered a decisive strike. Kun's head separated from his body, both dissolving into fragments of light before they reached the ground.
The remaining holographic environment flickered. The Yavin 4 temple vanished, with humid jungle disappeared. And Derren found himself standing alone inside the training dome.
His white lightsaber hummed quietly in his hand, above the control console, the results appeared.
COMBAT TRIAL COMPLETE
RESULT: VICTORY
Then Josa whispered. "What in the blazes did I just witness?"
The silence lasted until Anakin finally threw both hands into the air. "THAT WAS INSANE!" He hurried toward the stairs leading down to the dome, with Seris following close behind.
I was already moving. By the time we reached Derren, he'd deactivated his lightsaber and was staring at the empty space where Exar Kun had stood.
His expression was almost comically confused. I stopped in front of him. "Derren."
He turned. "Yeah?"
"You're crazy."
He blinked. Then I grinned. "But that was amazing!" I grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "Where in the Force did that come from?"
Anakin reached us a moment later. "Seriously! Where have you been hiding those moves?"
Derren laughed awkwardly. "Honestly? Nowhere special."
"Nowhere special?" Anakin repeated. "You just disarmed Exar Kun and took his head off before I could even follow what happened!"
Derren glanced toward the inactive lightsaber in his hand. "I don't really know how to explain it. I was doing what felt right, and suddenly everything started making sense."
Seris studied him carefully. "You were combining Soresu and Ataru."
Derren nodded. "Among other techniques. Master Kuro's been making me practice that for a while."
"That wasn't simply switching between the forms," she replied. "You were using both principles simultaneously."
"I know." He scratched the back of his head. "But I don't think I could repeat all that right now, even if I tried."
I nodded slowly. "That makes sense."
Anakin looked toward me. "It does?"
"He entered a very deep state of moving meditation. His connection to the Force became extraordinarily focused, and his movements started following a pattern he probably couldn't have consciously planned."
Derren glanced toward me. "That's exactly what it felt like."
I smiled. "Then you've discovered something worth developing."
Plo Koon approached with the other Masters. "An extraordinary accomplishment, Derren. Your technique was unlike anything I expected to see today."
Depa nodded. "You maintained a defensive foundation while using your opponent's aggression to create offensive opportunities. It was remarkably sophisticated."
Yaddle regarded him warmly. "Much progress, you have made."
Yoda tapped his cane. "Yet remember, young Talvos: a moment of clarity, mastery it does not guarantee."
Derren bowed. "I understand, Grand Master."
"Practice, you must. Understand what you discovered, you must."
"I will."
Luminara looked toward the empty dome. "I must admit, the training system is considerably more impressive than I initially believed."
Josa folded her arms with an enormous grin. "You're welcome."
"But that final exchange was dangerous."
"Also true."
"And the program's behavioral escalation concerns me."
Josa opened her mouth. I quickly raised a hand. "We'll review the results and make sure the system remains within appropriate safety limits, Master."
Luminara regarded me for a moment before nodding.
At least that argument was postponed. Then a quiet voice spoke from behind us.
"Padawan Talvos."
Derren froze.
I turned toward the entrance. Master An'ya Kuro stood near the lower observation stairs, her dark robes falling around her slender figure. Her expression was as composed as ever.
Derren immediately straightened. "Master."
Kuro approached him slowly. For several seconds, she said nothing. Derren's earlier confidence seemed to disappear. He knew that expression. He'd seen it after countless training sessions, usually moments before receiving an extensive explanation of everything he'd done incorrectly.
"I know," he began. "Deactivating my lightsaber was reckless, and I probably shouldn't have....."
"Enough."
Derren closed his mouth. Kuro stopped directly before him. She regarded him with an unreadable expression. Then she spoke. "You have improved."
Derren blinked. "Master?"
"Your defensive transitions were considerably more refined than during our last session. Your energy management and force techniques was excellent, and your final movement demonstrated an understanding of the principles I've spent years attempting to teach you." Her gaze softened slightly. "Although I would strongly advise against attempting that maneuver in a real battle before you've learned to reproduce it reliably."
Derren smiled nervously. "Of course, Master."
Kuro studied him for another moment. Then she said something none of us expected. "I'm proud of you, Derren."
The words were quiet, and simple, but their effect was immediate. Derren's smile faltered. For several seconds, he stared at her as though he hadn't understood what she'd said. "You're... proud of me?"
Kuro raised an eyebrow. "Was I unclear?"
"No, Master. I just..." He swallowed. Something warm and unfamiliar rose within his chest. He'd spent years under the tutelage of a woman who rarely offered praise, whose training methods were demanding, and whose reputation for emotional detachment was known throughout the Jedi Order. But since their arrival on Tython, he'd noticed small changes.
She listened more often, and occasionally smiled. And although her training remained demanding, she had begun showing her concern more openly. Derren hadn't realized how much he'd wanted to hear those particular words until she finally said them, and his eyes began to sting.
Kuro noticed immediately. "Why are you crying?"
Derren laughed weakly. "I'm not." A tear slipped down his cheek.
Kuro looked at him. "Clearly."
He rubbed his eyes. "Sorry, Master. I don't know what's wrong with me."
For a moment, Kuro remained still, then she sighed. "Oh, Derren." To everyone's astonishment, the famously detached Jedi Master stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her Padawan.
Derren froze, and so did the rest of us.
Anakin slowly turned toward me. Seris's mouth fell open. Even Plo Koon appeared surprised. Kuro held Derren gently, one hand resting against the back of his head.
"It's all right, my Padawan." Her voice was softer than I'd ever heard it. "Just this once, let it out." Derren's composure finally broke. He wrapped his arms around his Master and hugged her tightly. Through the Force bond connecting our cohort, I felt the emotions rushing through him.
Relief, happiness, gratitude. And the unmistakable warmth of a young boy finally receiving the approval he'd wanted for years without ever admitting it.
I smiled, and beside me, Seris slipped her hand into mine. While Anakin watched quietly, his earlier excitement replaced by something considerably gentler.
Luminara appeared ready to speak, but she stopped herself. Even she seemed to recognize how extraordinary the moment was.
Kuro rested her cheek briefly against Derren's hair. "You have always possessed extraordinary potential," she murmured. "I never doubted that." Derren tightened his embrace. "Thank you, Master."
"Now don't mistake this for permission to become lazy again."
He laughed through his tears. "I wouldn't dream of it."
"Good." She allowed the embrace to continue for another moment before gently releasing him.
Derren wiped his face, looking embarrassed. Kuro regarded him sternly. "And stop making that expression. You look ridiculous."
He grinned. "Yes, Master."
For the first time since arriving on Tython, I thought I saw the Dark Woman smile without attempting to hide it.
The moment might have continued if Josa hadn't suddenly cleared her throat. "Sorry to interrupt the tear festival, everybody."
We turned. The Twi'lek was leaning against her console with a thoroughly unapologetic grin. "But I've got a very expensive machine that needs more testing." She pointed toward Anakin. "What do you say, Skyboy? Want your turn?"
Anakin's grin returned immediately. "Oh, absolutely."
While Derren changed out of the interface suit, Anakin retrieved a fresh one, and began adjusting it beneath his Jedi robes. He emerged several minutes later, rolling his shoulders and testing the flexibility of the material. "Not bad, feels like I'm wearing nothing at all."
Josa smiled. "Of course it's not bad. I built it."
Anakin approached the dome. "So, Cain, who am I fighting?"
I began scrolling through his designated combat programs. "Someone from your personal trial list."
"Which one?"
I smiled. "I was thinking we could begin somewhere in the middle."
Anakin shook his head. "No."
I paused. "No?"
"I want the strongest one you got."
My expression grew serious. "You're not ready for him."
Anakin immediately frowned. "How do you know?"
"Because I designed the trial, and I know what that opponent is capable of."
Anakin folded his arms. "Then how am I supposed to learn if I don't fight him?"
I considered his argument. he wasn't wrong in a sense. Then I smiled. "Tell you what. Beat the third-strongest opponent on your list, and I'll let you attempt the final trial."
Anakin's expression brightened. "Really?"
"Really, I promise no strings attached, but know this, it will be set with no parameters locks, so you will be fighting a opponent at their strongest, adaptive nature and all."
Anakin grinned. "Bet, sounds like my kind duel."
I shook my head. You never change, but I think you will wish you listened to me this time.
Josa activated the interface. "All right, Skyboy. Enter the dome."
Anakin stepped through the shimmering barrier. "Ready whenever you are."
I selected the appropriate program. For a moment, my finger hovered over the activation control. This particular reconstruction was different from the others. Not because its combat techniques were more complicated. But because its appearance carried implications that only I fully understood.
I pressed the command, and the environment changed. Anakin found himself standing inside a large starship hangar. Bright overhead lighting illuminated rows of maintenance equipment, fuel conduits, and several military transports resting upon reinforced docking platforms.
A pair of starfighters occupied the far end of the bay, while a larger vessel stood near a raised maintenance gantry. The steady hum of ventilation systems filled the chamber.
Anakin glanced around. "Fancy, and spacious."
"Thanks," a familiar voice answered. "We just finished cleaning the place."
Anakin froze. What? He turned toward the source. A figure emerged from the open cockpit of a starfighter, dropping effortlessly onto the deck below. The man wore dark Jedi robes over practical combat garments, his broad shoulders and lean athletic frame. His hair was sandy-brown and long, falling around his face without the Padawan braid still hanging behind the younger boy's ear.
A lightsaber rested against his belt, and his face...
Anakin stared. From the observation platform, the visiting Masters reacted almost simultaneously.
Depa stepped forward.
Shaak Ti's eyes widened.
Plo Koon went completely still.
Even Yoda appeared momentarily taken aback. Because the man standing inside the simulated hangar looked exactly like Anakin Skywalker.
Only older, and more experienced, and gave off the vibe of being considerably more dangerous. Anakin slowly raised his cybernetic to his belt. "C-Cain?"
But I remained silent.
His eyes narrowed. "Cain, what is this? You're having me fight some future version of myself?"
The older man chuckled. "Something like that." He walked forward with easy confidence. "Let me save you some time, kid, or younger me. You're what, sixteen?"
Anakin frowned. "Yes."
"Well, I'm twenty-three, and I've spent the last three years fighting almost nonstop through one war zone after another." He stopped several meters away. "Believe me, whatever you think you know about combat, there's a lot you haven't learned yet."
Anakin studied him. The resemblance was uncanny. same face but more mature, longer hair and he was slightly taller. But the older man's presence within the Force was even more unsettling. It was enormous. Vast and extraordinarily powerful, carrying a sense of strength that made the younger Anakin instinctively tighten his grip on his lightsaber.
Is this what people feel when they stand in front of me? He'd always known his connection to the Force was unusual high. But facing something that resembled a more mature version of his own potential was different.
The presence felt overwhelming, even compared with Cain's. And the older man's expression suggested he knew exactly what Anakin was thinking.
"Something wrong, me?"
Anakin straightened. "No."
"Good. I be disappointed if this shook you that much." The older Jedi unclipped his lightsaber. With a sharp snap-hiss, a brilliant blue blade ignited.
Anakin's eyes narrowed. A blue lightsaber?
He looked toward the observation platform. What exactly are you trying to show me, Cain?
The older Anakin settled into a familiar Form V stance. "Whenever you're ready."
Anakin slowly drew his own weapon. His indigo blade erupted into existence, its dark hue illuminated by faint arcs of white lightning that briefly crackled around the emitter before disappearing.
The older Anakin raised an eyebrow. "Interesting color."
"Thanks, just wait till you see what I can do with it." The younger Skywalker smiled confidently. "But just so we're clear, no hologram is stronger than the original."
The older Anakin expression changed, as a familiar smirk spread across his face. "Kid, I've got some bad news for you." He lowered his center of gravity. "I'm the original. You're just a pale imitation."
Then he moved. The older Anakin crossed the hangar with terrifying speed, his blue lightsaber descending in a powerful overhead strike. The younger Anakin barely managed to raise his indigo blade before the weapons collided.
A deafening crack echoed through the simulated hangar. The impact forced the younger Jedi backward.
His eyes widened. He's strong!
Before he could recover, the older Anakin rotated his blade into another crushing attack. The younger Skywalker intercepted it, but the force of the collision sent a painful vibration through his training suit. A third strike followed immediately, then a fourth. Each attack was brutally efficient, combining overwhelming physical power with extraordinary control.
The younger Anakin attempted to counter, but the older version anticipated his movement and redirected it almost contemptuously.
Their blades locked. Blue and indigo light illuminated their nearly identical faces. The older Anakin leaned forward, smiling. "Come on, me. You can do better than that."
The younger Skywalker gritted his teeth. "Don't underestimate me!"
"Oh, I'm not." The older man suddenly increased the pressure, driving his younger counterpart backward another step.
His smile widened. "I'm just wondering how long you're going to last."