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There is no emotion—there is peace. There is no ignorance—there is knowledge. There is no passion—there is serenity. There is no chaos—there is harmony.
Is he winded already? Qui-Gon thought as they dashed down a staircase that would lead to the outer, more modern area of the Hutt compound. Their escape thus far had included no more than a three-minute run—and of course, scaling a twenty-meter wall. But in the proper meditative state that shouldn’t have been difficult.
If Obi-Wan lacked serenity in battle, he didn’t lack instincts.
No time for hypotheticals, Qui-Gon reminded himself. There is no past, no future. Only now.
Definitely not something the Jedi Council would be glad to hear about when he and Obi-Wan returned to Coruscant. But Qui-Gon tailored his tactics to his opponents. Against the Hutts—whose massive wealth had been derived solely through the misery of other beings—he felt free to do whatever it took to survive.
There had been a time when Qui-Gon believed great, transformative change was possible. That these changes had been foreseen millennia ago by the Jedi mystics. How young he’d been. How innocent, how optimistic. Time had taught him better. “Nothing remains static,” Qui-Gon said, “but sentient beings will always remain the same.”
Having a Jedi for a regent—even an unorthodox Jedi, even one who seemed determined to behave more like a vagrant than a nobleman—meant going on a constant quest for self-knowledge. Personally she felt she knew herself quite well, thank you very much, but she also knew this line of questioning wouldn’t end until she’d provided an answer.
crushed machinery. It had seemed so funny, at first, the idea of the Opposition as dangerous terrorists. Nobody was laughing any longer.
The duties of a Padawan varied greatly. Certain kinds of instruction were universal—meditation, lightsaber training—and were studied both in groups at the Temple and privately with one’s Master. But those Masters ranged widely in talents and temperament, which meant that the assignments they gave were diverse, too.
crèche-mate
Qui-Gon’s interest in ancient languages wouldn’t have been annoying on its own—at least, not as annoying—but what really irritated Obi-Wan was the reason for this fascination. Nobody puts much stock in the old prophecies any longer, Obi-Wan thought sullenly as he looked over yet more Old Alderaanian. These are only things that may never happen. If they ever do come to pass, then they were truly foretold, and none of our actions can influence them in any way. So why does Qui-Gon insist on studying them?
“What use are ideals if we cannot fit them to the universe as we find it?” Qui-Gon had once asked him. “If our beliefs tell us one thing, and the needs of real people tell us another, can there be any question of which we should listen to?” This all sounded very lofty when Qui-Gon said it, but in actuality it meant things like, It’s okay to “borrow” a spaceship from criminals if you really need it, or If I can win this tribe’s independence in a game of chance, then it’s worth selling my Padawan’s best robe for chips to get into the game.
“One of these prophecies says something about ‘She who will be born to darkness will give birth to darkness.’
‘When the kyber that is not kyber shines forth, the time of prophecy will be at hand.’
‘When the righteous lose the light, evil once dead shall return.’ That’s so vague it could refer to anything or anyone! And then the whole ‘Chosen One’ nonsense—”
question. “Isn’t that the definition of a prophecy? A prediction about what’s to come?” “In some senses. But prophecies are also about the present. The ancient Jedi mystics were attempting to look into the future, but they were rooted in their own time—as we all are.” Qui-Gon settled back into his chair and motioned for Obi-Wan to sit as well. “They could only predict the future through the prism of their own experience. So by studying their words, their warnings, we learn more about their ways than any history holo could ever teach us. And by asking ourselves how we interpret these
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“The Jedi don’t have such mystics anymore,” Obi-Wan pointed out. “We’re meant to put aside visions of the future, because we can’t know whether they’ll come to pass. Master Yoda even says such visions can bring a Jedi to darkness.” “Yes, seeking to know the future can be a form of control, which can lead to the dark side,” Qui-Gon said in his deep, resonant voice.
“I understand what you mean,” Obi-Wan said. “Many paths can lead to the dark side.”
“As Jedi, we possess power that average beings do not, and never will. Holding power over other beings will always require us to be vigilant against the darkness within us.
As if it were an enemy, Qui-Gon thought. But that made no sense. Dooku said, “That is a holocron of Jedi prophecies.” “Prophecies?” Qui-Gon had never heard of this before. “There are Jedi prophets?” “Not any longer. The ancient mystics sought undue knowledge of the future. It led them down dangerous paths. Those drawn too deeply into them were often…were tempted by the dark side.”
Qui-Gon whispered, “The dark side?” He knew it was a thing all beings carried within them, a part of himself he would learn to guard against—the
Qui-Gon still remembered the first time he’d come across a tree that was strong with the dark side; the shock had been tremendous. Master Dooku had shaken his head ruefully and said, “Darkness is a part of nature, too, Qui-Gon. Equally as fundamental as the light. Always remember this.”)
You see, the Opposition didn’t begin as a terrorist group. Apparently they were originally a…a performance art troupe.”
Perhaps we might move more of the schools, or at least the crèches, Qui-Gon thought. There are numerous worlds safe enough for us to shelter the younglings where life is lived more simply, in ways more familiar throughout the galaxy. Where the children might be surrounded by farmland, or fisherbeings. Where we interact more with the communities around us, and train new Jedi to be as much a part of the worlds as separate from them—
protocol droids raised Pax for the next fifteen years, until the ship was finally rediscovered. And they taught him to behave exactly like they did.” Qui-Gon considered the 3PO units he’d known. “That must be…challenging.”
Some people, he thought, are drawn to the light as surely as flowers that bend toward a sun.
“I’m laughing at moral absolutism. You just happen to be displaying it at the moment.”
“People are more than their worst act,” Obi-Wan recited. It was something Qui-Gon had said to him many times, which at last seemed to be sinking in. “At least, most people. And they are also more than the worst thing ever done to them.”
The orange glow of the kohlen crystals. The kyber that is not kyber. The time of prophecy will be at hand.
think only about the varactyl… And then he felt it. The beast’s soul, simpler and purer than that of a sentient, yet still intelligent in its way. When it cocked its head to study him, Obi-Wan realized this could not be a matter of his mastering the varactyl; instead, they would have to meet as equals.
Obi-Wan wasn’t even winded. “So, Master,” he said, putting away his lightsaber. “Are any more of the upcoming coronation events this exciting?” “I doubt it.” Qui-Gon didn’t approve of his Padawan’s cockiness, but let him enjoy the moment while he could.
“I will not take part in the treaty ceremony,” Qui-Gon said. “The Republic will have no representative, and therefore the treaty cannot go forward.”
it’s not your decision to make—” “This isn’t about my personal opinion. It’s about a vision of the future—a warning—given to me by the Force.” Remembering the images from his dream, and the sheer feeling of horror that bound them together, steeled him against any objections. Qui-Gon knew what he knew.
From her place at her gilded chair, mouth full of breakfast, Fanry said, “Dooku. I’ve heard lots of stories about him. He taught Rael and Qui-Gon both. But I don’t think he’s a Jedi anymore.” Rael gestured at the child. “That’s right. Dooku left the Order, because he got sick and tired of the hypocrisy—the judgment—all of it.”
A flash of light exploded from the jungle, striking Shenda Mol. She screamed in agony, dropping her blaster and tumbling down the hillside to fall to the ground.
“It’s a revolution from the top,” Qui-Gon replied. “Rael thought he was defending Fanry. Czerka thought they were manipulating her. But she was more than they counted on.”
“I’m not sure.” Obi-Wan unscrewed the components of his lightsaber. To everybody’s astonishment, this revealed an orange kohlen crystal where the kyber crystal ought to have been. “How is this possible?” Qui-Gon asked. “It has to be—” Obi-Wan’s expression became thoughtful. “A few days ago, Fanry asked to know how a lightsaber worked, and I showed her. Deren told me before the run-through last night that no weapons were allowed in the Chalice until the ceremony itself, so I left my lightsaber in the hall outside. Then someone sabotaged it—or meant to.”
“Thank the Force it’s less powerful,” Obi-Wan said. “If it weren’t, my blow would’ve killed Deren.” “Hell, you’d have cut him in two,” Averross replied.
Be in this moment, he thought, willing his spirit to achieve the same calm strength as his body.
If I’d tried to see her before, Qui-Gon realized, the Force would’ve shown me some of the spirit she hid inside. But I didn’t try. I took her for the child she presented herself to be. There was no Jedi so wise that he could not be undone by his own assumptions.
“By taking away my absolute authority?” Fanry scoffed. “Though really, the more I studied my history, the more I realized no monarch of Pijal had truly ruled in centuries. Czerka’s grip has been too strong. I need the full authority of the throne, Jedi. The Republic is compromised by Czerka’s wealth and influence. Only I can free my world.” Qui-Gon had doubted that Pijal’s future Assembly would be able to stand up to Czerka. Could he be certain the Galactic Senate would do any better?
