Star Wars: The Prequel Trilogy

by Terry Brooks

“in this life you’re often born one thing and die another. You don’t have to accept that what you’re given when you come in is all you’ll have when you leave.”

In the time of Qui-Gon Jinn, ten thousand Jedi Knights in service to the Republic carried on the struggle each day of their lives in a hundred thousand different worlds spread across a galaxy so vast it could barely be comprehended.

Qui-Gon looked suddenly sad. “No, Obi-Wan. Secrets must be exposed when found. Detours must be taken when encountered. And if you are the one who stands at the crossroads or the place of concealment, you must never leave it to another to act in your place.”

“Anakin Skywalker, meet Obi-Wan Kenobi.” The boy beamed. “Pleased to meet you. Wow! You’re a Jedi Knight, too, aren’t you?” The younger Jedi looked from the boy to Qui-Gon and rolled his eyes in despair.

“It’s better to die in pursuit of your dreams than to live a life without hope,”

“Why do I think that you’re going to be the death of me?” Obi-Wan commented above the clamor. “Don’t say that, Master,” Anakin replied seriously, and the intensity of his tone surprised Obi-Wan. “You’re the closest thing I have to a father. I love you, and I don’t want to cause you pain.”

“Well, Dex, if droids could think, there’d be none of us here, would there?” Obi-Wan answered with a laugh.

What is happening here is not government that has been bought out by business, it’s business becoming government!

For while Obi-Wan and most of the Jedi were sword fighters, Count Dooku was a fencer, following an older fighting style, one more effective against weapons like lightsabers than against projectile weapons like blasters. The Jedi on the whole had abandoned that old fighting style, considering it almost irrelevant against the enemies of the present galaxy, but Dooku had always held stubbornly to it, considering it among the highest of fighting disciplines. Now, as the battle played out between the Count and Obi-Wan, the older way showed its brilliance. Obi-Wan leapt and spun, slashing side to side, chopping and thrusting, but all of Dooku’s movements seemed far more efficient. He followed a single line, front and back, his feet shifting to keep him constantly in perfect balance as he retreated and came on suddenly with devastating thrusts that had Obi-Wan stumbling backward.

Though this all happened so long ago and so far away that words cannot describe the time or the distance, it is also happening right now. Right here. It is happening as you read these words. This is how twenty-five millennia come to a close. Corruption and treachery have crushed a thousand years of peace. This is not just the end of a republic; night is falling on civilization itself. This is the twilight of the Jedi. The end starts now.

It is characteristic of Obi-Wan that he is entirely unaware of this. Being named to the Council came as a complete surprise; even now, he is sometimes astonished by the faith the Jedi Council has in his abilities, and the credit they give to his wisdom. Greatness was never his ambition. He wants only to perform whatever task he is given to the best of his ability. He is respected throughout the Jedi Order for his insight as well as his warrior skill. He has become the hero of the next generation of Padawans; he is the Jedi their Masters hold up as a model. He is the being that the Council assigns to their most important missions. He is modest, centered, and always kind. He is the ultimate Jedi. And he is proud to be Anakin Skywalker’s best friend.

Obi-Wan was right. He almost always was.

the legend that has grown around Kenobi and Skywalker. They stand alone. Together, they are unstoppable. Unbeatable. They are the ultimate go- to guys of the Jedi Order. When the Good Guys absolutely, positively have to win, the call goes out. Obi-Wan and Anakin always answer.

Obi-Wan lifted his lightsaber into the balanced two-handed guard of Ataro: Qui-Gon’s style, and Yoda’s. His blade crackled into existence, and the air smelled of lightning.

Kenobi moved toward him with a slow, hypnotic grace, as though he floated on an invisible repulsor plate.

“You know what Master Yoda says: Patience you must have, until the mud settles and the water becomes clear. So let’s wait.”

He doesn’t even need to reach into the Force. He has already let the Force reach into him.

The Force flows over him and around him as though he has stepped into a crystal-pure waterfall lost in the green coils of a forgotten rain forest; when he opens himself to that sparkling stream it flows into him and through him and out again without the slightest interference from his conscious will. The part of him that calls itself Obi-Wan Kenobi is no more than a ripple, an eddy in the pool into which he endlessly pours. There are other parts of him here, as well; there is nothing here that is not a part of him, from the scuff mark on R2-D2’s dome to the tattered hem of Palpatine’s robe, from the spidering crack in one transparisteel panel of the curving view wall above to the great starships that still battle beyond it. Because this is all part of the Force. Somehow, mysteriously, the cloud that has darkened the Force for near to a decade and a half has lightened around him now, and he finds within himself the limpid clarity he recalls from his schooldays at the Jedi Temple, when the Force was pure, and clean, and perfect. It is as though the darkness has withdrawn, has coiled back upon itself, to allow him this moment of clarity, to return to him the full power of the light, if only for the moment; he does not know why, but he is incapable of even wondering. In the Force, he is beyond questions. Why is meaningless; it is an echo of the past, or a whisper from the future. All that matters, for this infinite now, is what, and where, and who. He is all sixteen of the sup...

and so there was no need for actual communication between them; it was only Obi-Wan’s personal sense of style that brought his customary gentle smile to his face and his customary gentle murmur to his lips.

He reached through the Force and the Force reached through him; his blade flared to life while still in the air; it flipped toward him, and as he lifted his hands to meet it, its blue flame flashed between his wrists and severed the binders before the handgrip smacked solidly into his palm. Obi-Wan was so deep in the Force that he wasn’t even suprised it had worked.

Kenobi, though— The ease with which Kenobi had taken command of the situation was frightening.

The greatest danger from the darkness outside came when Jedi fed it with the darkness within.

A very, very wise Jedi once said to me, We don’t have to win. All we have to do is fight.”

“We’ll worry about that once we find him,” Obi-Wan said. A slight, wistful smile crept over his face. “If I listen hard enough, I can almost hear Qui-Gon reminding me that until the possible becomes actual, it is only a distraction.”