Around him were the elite leaders of tomorrow. They knew where they were going - . on to positions of power in the galaxy, as Senators, rulers, heads of galactic corporations. Anakin marveled at their assurance, their expectation that their lives would be full of the same luxury and ease that had been theirs since childhood.
At night, alone in his room, he admitted a strange new feeling into his heart: envy.
Anakin sat in the Great Hall of Learning with the rest of the school. Although individual classes were small, once a week the entire school would gather for a General Information Contest. The students sat in rows underneath a gilded dome. Professor Aeradin stood on a repulsorlift platform, manipulating a holographic projector. The questions and problems were presented as holograms, and the students answered on datapads at their seats.
Like all of the desks and chairs at the school, these seats were plush and comfortable. Anakin could press a button and the seat configured to his body. It reclined and swiveled so that he did not have to move his head to follow the holographic problems.
He glanced at the problem overhead but waited a few seconds before entering his answer. There were many good things about Jedi training at the Temple, but Anakin discovered another one - any other school was easy compared to it. He had slipped into his classes with no problems. His training at the Temple had included classes in galactic politics, diplomacy, and extensive study of languages, system geography, and astronomy. He could follow his classes at the Leadership School with less than his full attention. Being at an elite school felt odd, but at least he could keep up academically.
A hologram of a system spun over his head, while planet after planet was highlighted with a bright blue light. As each world was highlighted, the native language or dialect repeated the same sentence.
Anakin did not need to wait until the question was complete. He already had figured out the Mid-Rim system. It was Rearqu 10.
“Name the system,” Professor Aeradin said.
Anakin took his time entering his response. He watched the other students, noting who immediately entered an answer, who stared blankly at the system overhead, who tried to read what his neighbor had entered, and who whispered the answer to another. Then he entered his own.
Rearqu 10 flashed holographically overhead. The professor repeated it as the number of right and wrong answers appeared on a screen at the front of the room.
“Only forty percent were correct,” Aeradin said severely. “Shameful.”
The next problem flashed overhead. Anakin noted Ferus entering the answer before the question had even finished flashing. The student sitting next to Ferus glanced at him enviously, but Ferus’s datapad was angled to prevent anyone from seeing what was on it.
Anakin sighed. Even undercover, Ferus had to be the perfect student.
Anakin entered his own answer. Across the room, a petite human girl with dark hair twisted in a thick knot at the nape of her neck smiled at him. He smiled back. She was in his Political Philosophies class and he had already noticed how bright she was. She had a way of seeing all sides of an issue and looking for the deeper meaning.
The contest wore on. At last the questions ceased. Professor Aeradin totaled up the responses on his datapad and looked up.
“And the First Student today is…”
The name flashed holographically: FERUS OLIN
“I’d like to congratulate our new student, Ferus Olin, for his perfect score. His time was the best. Excellent work.”
“Thank you, Professor Aeradin,” Ferus said.
Suddenly another hologram rose next to Ferus’s name. The light particles formed themselves into words, shining bigger and brighter: IS A SNOB
The auditorium exploded into laughter. Professor Aeradin looked up and saw the words. His gaze swept the auditorium while his antennae quivered with indignation.
“Who did this? Stand up this instant!”
The laughter slowly died, and the auditorium went still. Professor Aeradin’s severe look traveled from student to student, trying to flush out the culprit.
Anakin drew on the Force to help him. He noted movement, whispers, a shift, a squirm. He felt the undercurrents in the room - suppressed laughter, nervousness. Impatience. Boredom. Hunger.
Triumph.
His gaze shifted to a short, scruffy human boy who sat staring innocently at Professor Aeradin.
The professor hesitated. “If I ever find out…”
His words were drowned out by a soft dinging. A voice rose from the hidden speakers. “End of contest. Five minutes to mod four. Five minutes.”
“Dismissed,” Professor Aeradin said helplessly, for the students had already risen, grabbing their datapads and talking and jostling as they surged toward the doors.
Anakin headed in the direction of the short boy. His sandy hair stuck up in bristles and it was easy to keep track of him. Anyone who could infiltrate a professor’s holographic projector in order to conduct a practical joke might know something about bypassing security.