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Qui-Gon felt a pang of guilt.
They’d been an uneasy match from the start, with misunderstandings and emotional swings.
Qui-Gon believed in dealing with each situation on its own merits; Obi-Wan wanted procedures to follow.
Whatever changeable madness he steered by, it steered him well.
‘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—”
“Darkness is a part of nature, too, Qui-Gon. Equally as fundamental as the light. Always remember this.”)
“Pick you, I did not. Unsuited you are, in many ways.
it felt like a kick to the gut.
Qui-Gon had always been quick to admit his own faults and errors, a kind of humility rarer among the Jedi than it should’ve been.
Never assume your friends are above wrongdoing. Even good people can make terrible mistakes.
But I believe they should be helped to understand and account for those mistakes, a point of view the Council doesn’t share.
“I doubt the Council will ever again accept a Padawan so old.
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—
That was another thing Obi-Wan had always respected about Qui-Gon: his compassion.
That was a quality he’d have to cultivate on his own.
‘One will ascend to the highest of the Jedi despite the foreboding of those who would serve with him.’
“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.”
On Felucia, you broke the spirit of that law into a dozen pieces.”
Averross believed fully that bottling up worries and concerns muddied the spirit. That was why he acted on his urges—immediately, harmlessly, before they could sink in deep to rot.
Only through sacrifice of many Jedi will the Order cleanse the sin done to the nameless. The danger of the past is not past, but sleeps in an egg. When the egg cracks, it will threaten the galaxy entire. When the Force itself sickens, past and future must split and combine. A Chosen One shall come, born of no father, and through him will ultimate balance in the Force be restored.
Legend had it true darkness, such as that wielded by the ancient Sith, turned crystals red.
“About time you got here, Master!” Obi-Wan called, never looking away from the assault. “Thought I might lend a hand.” With that, Qui-Gon ducked low, igniting his own lightsaber to slash through the brush almost at ground level.
a lightsaber could pierce any shield, in time.
“Do you not keep your own customs rather than adopt those of the Jedi around you? Do you refuse to explain yourself more often than not? Why then does it surprise you that you stand apart from the rest?”
his isolation was at least half his own doing. Yet the solitude kept its sharp edge, always.)
placing one hand on the stump to ease it gently into death.
“Out of the saucepan,” Qui-Gon muttered, “and into the stove.”
When people punctured his vanity, he began to respect them.
He could joke about nearly dying in a sinkhole, not even six hours after the event. Qui-Gon once again realized what a fine Padawan he’d had, and what a shame it was they’d failed to get on.
“The hyperspace…? Master Yoda, forgive me, but are you putting the profit of corporations ahead of the people of Pijal?” Qui-Gon had long thought the Council was in danger of losing its way, but this was colder than he would’ve imagined possible.
They would spend all their time bickering about the viability of the hyperspace corridor. They were too bound to Coruscant. Too bound to the chancellor. Too far from the living Force. They were no longer the sort of Jedi who could trust in a pure vision.
Qui-Gon had often felt out of step with the Order as a whole, but never to this degree. He had also never felt this close to the Force.
“You think to murder my Padawan merely to fulfill your pitiful ambitions. You find yourself impressive, do you? You know nothing of true power!”
Are they truly going to waste time debating theoretical ethics instead of dealing with the crisis at hand? The thought shocked Obi-Wan—such criticism of the Council was something he would’ve expected from his Master, but had never really confronted in himself. Maybe Qui-Gon had a point about the Council’s tendency to bicker rather than lead…
I am one with the Force, Obi-Wan thought, recalling an old saying of the Guardians of the Whills. The Force is with me.
Did you ever really think about what that would mean, Qui-Gon? It would mean the darkness would be just as strong as the light. So it doesn’t matter what we do, because in the end, hey, it’s a tie! It doesn’t matter which side we choose.”
“It matters,” Qui-Gon said quietly. “It matters which side we choose. Even if there will never be more light than darkness. Even if there can be no more joy in the galaxy than there is pain. For every action we undertake, for every word we speak, for every life we touch—it matters. I don’t turn toward the light because it means someday I’ll ‘win’ some sort of cosmic game. I turn toward it because it is the light.”
We disagree on the particulars, but I can’t fault you in principle.”
They knew you’d rebel against any Master you worked with. So they made sure you wound up with a Jedi who almost never followed the rules. The only way for you to rebel was to become the perfect Jedi.”
“He was scared because he was worried about you.” Rael shrugged. “That’s another thing the Council’s dead wrong about. They keep sayin’, Oh, the Jedi aren’t allowed to love, and that’s why we’re never supposed to get laid—”
There was no Jedi so wise that he could not be undone by his own assumptions.
Inwardly, he thought, I hope Obi-Wan’s all right.
As the Facet plunged through the twisting corridors at intense speed, Obi-Wan had given up trying to come up with any coherent thoughts. It made more sense to just yell, “AAAAAAUUUGHHHH!”
Obi-Wan still appeared to be in shock. “It was terrible,” he said, his eyes staring fixedly ahead. “I don’t ever want to fly again. Ever.” “Oh, come now, Padawan.” “I hate flying.” “You’re only shaken up,” Qui-Gon said. “That feeling will pass.” “No, it won’t.” “We’ll see.
Short-sighted, to lose touch with the living Force by spending so much of their time and energy on enforcing laws that could as easily be left to civilian authorities. Immoral, to refuse to act against evils such as slavery.
That, in the end, was why the prophecies weren’t dangerous to him, not the same way they’d been to others who’d been led to darkness. The danger came in thinking that knowing the future became a form of control over it. Finally Qui-Gon understood it was the exact opposite. Knowing the future meant surrendering to fate. Surrendering to the ebb and flow of life. Only through that surrender could the Force be truly known.
In fact, his only inheritance from Qui-Gon was rather more complicated. He glanced to the door of the shrine. Though night was falling, Obi-Wan could make out the silhouette of little Anakin Skywalker.
Never had Qui-Gon stopped arguing this to anyone who would listen—but he had never betrayed his mandate, not even on Tatooine. If Anakin is the Chosen One, and he keeps his promise to free the slaves, it will fulfill all of Qui-Gon’s hopes.
For Obi-Wan to take a Padawan after having been a Jedi Knight for a few hours was—unprecedented, surely. Possibly also unwise. But Obi-Wan had promised. It was the last thing he’d ever said to Qui-Gon. So it had to be true.
