They ate in silence with Qui-Gon contemplating how best to find out why the boy had run away. When they were finished he tried to approach the matter a bit differently than before. "Obi-Wan, did you know that it was me who brought you to the Temple?" The Padawan looked at him in surprise. He clearly hadn't known. Qui-Gon smiled gently at him and continued. "I was on a routine mission when I found you. Everyone at the Temple was cooing over you when we got back, marvelling at the small boy with the beautiful eyes." Qui-Gon laughed lightly and Obi-Wan smiled a bit. It occurred to the Master that this was the first time since the mission had started that he had seen this expression on the boy's face. Feeling that it was the right time, he changed the course of the conversation. "You know, Master Calan was also on that mission." The smile vanished instantly and Obi-Wan looked at the ground once again.
"You know, sometimes I wonder where the enthusiastic boy from seven years ago went to." Qui-Gon Jinn said with an amused grin on his face. His Padawan shot him a glare. "He vanished shortly after you started with your early-morning-what-a-great-day-wake-up-call."
“Who are you?” Mace demanded viciously, raw anger almost totally uncontrolled. Qui-Gon’s mind raced trying to discern the seething hatred he felt directed at him. What could possibly have happen to create such a transformation in the man advancing on him. Against better judgment, he extended his arms out stating, “Qui-Gon Jinn” in his most non-threatening tone. “I should kill you for this vile masquerade.” Mace replied cold-bloodedly as he closed on the intruder. “I watched Qui-Gon Jinn struck down over ten years ago.” With that, Mace raised his own weapon and pulled the trigger.
"Does the Council believe these rumors of a time machine?" the young Jedi asked, busying himself with the ship's controls. "That's why we were sent here, to discover their validity." Qui-Gon answered, gazing out the front view port. A small dot in space loomed directly ahead of them, growing larger with each passing minute. “Do ‘you’ believe it possible?” Obi-Wan inquired, sparing a glance behind him. "There have been beings technologically advance for centuries. Throughout that time there have been individuals who've spent their lives in the creation of such a device." Qui-Gon intoned ominously. You didn't answer my question. Obi-Wan sent, turning his attention back to the control console. "What I believe is immaterial. If such a thing exists it could be infinitely more dangerous than any weapon ever built. It could completely change the face of the galaxy as we know it."
"He has turned, my master," Vader said to Emperor Palpetine. He knelt on a platform, staring at a large hologram of the Emperor. "Yes, I have felt a strong surge in the Force. You have done well, Lord Vader. You must continue his training, and make sure that he never goes back to the Light ever again." "I will, Master. He will be with us forever." "Good. Now get back to his training." Vader bowed his head, and got up as the hologram faded. Vader walked up to his son, who was staring ut of the bridge of the Executor. "My son, we must get back to our training." "Do you believe in fate, father?" Luke asked. "Of coarse," he replied. "What do you believe my fate to be?" "You fate is to rule the galaxy with me ." "If it is just me and you, where does Palpetine come into all of this?" Vader sighed. He didn't want to tell him of his plans, not yet. "You will learn this in time, my son, but for now, we must continue your training." "Okay." Together, they walked off of the bridge and headed into the training room.
"Han is going to kill you," Leia screamed at Lando, each ducking behind objects--objects that have fallen from something, broken from something, or just something tipped over. There were even chunks missing from the Falcon's wall. "I hadn't planned on this," Lando replied. Soon after he stood, ran backwards trying to find a safer haven, firing all the while. Leia, did the same, but stumbled. She fell to the floor, unconcious. As she laid there, she had a dream, a vision. It was Luke, battling a dark figure. Darth Vader. But Luke wasn't the same, he seemed different, dark. His eyes were filled with rage, filled with despair. They stopped, and began talking. She couldn't hear the words, but could somehow tell that they were talking, not as enemies, but as...friends...allies.
Swallowing his trepidation, Obi-Wan spoke gently but firmly. “I know you miss them,” he began. Anakin glanced up at him. “But a Jedi must never put himself before those he serves. He must be willing to forfeit his desires for the sake of aiding others.” “I do want to help people,” Anakin insisted, “but how can I be a good Jedi if I’m always sad?” “All pain passes in time, padawan,” Obi-Wan assured him. The boy looked down. “I guess,” he mumbled, clearly trying not to be impolite but still coming across as grumbling. Obi-Wan sighed inwardly. Perhaps this was simply not the best time to help Anakin straighten out his views, seeing as they were both tired and most likely edgy. But he could also not help wondering that if it weren’t now, then when would be the time? Furthermore, if his words were not getting through, how was he going to reach the boy?
“Well, that’s too bad. Your cheer and endless conversation will be missed,” the young man said with teasing sarcasm. It was a joke, but Obi-Wan knew it was true. He wasn’t exactly the most talkative or light-hearted person to have around. Qui-Gon had always worried about him being too serious all the time. It would turn him prematurely grey, he’d said. Well it was a good thing now that he was more mature than most of the Jedi his age. It would take someone with a great understanding of the gravity of such a duty to train Anakin. It was a serious task and Obi-Wan took it very seriously. “There you go brooding again,” Brandeis said, breaking into Obi-Wan’s thoughts. The young Master shot his friend a glance. “What you call brooding, I call contemplation. I’ve always failed to see the flaw in wanting to think,” Obi-Wan rejoined.
Slowly, she dragged her mind out of the darkness, unwilling to face the uncaring universe, but coaxed by the knowledge that she was no longer alone amid the shadows of her cell, spurred into awareness by the subtle, pressing presence of the man who had come to mock her.
“Don’t force your moves, Luke.” Leia looked up and found the old man's eyes on her, before he quickly turned away. “Give in to the energy that flows around you; let it dictate your movements.” “You want him to be a slave to his own power?” Leia blurted out, before the thought had fully formed. She mentally cursed herself for her intrusion. So much for being trusted... But the old man only smiled at her, almost as though he had been expecting her to join in. “Not a slave, Arica, a student.” Leia knew she should be quiet, knew she should withdraw, but something about the old man drew her in. “A student or a slave—is there really a difference? Both are told what to do and expected to do it.” She needed to stop talking, her master would never approve. “Let him take control,” she heard herself say, “let him be the master over his power. Let him be free.” “Is that what you are, Arica?” the old man asked, gently. “Are you free?”
“There were others with you.” It was a statement, not a question, but Leia answered anyway. “Yes. Though I don’t think most of them were involved.” Vader didn’t react outwardly, but she could sense his displeasure. “They became involved as soon as they allowed a Rebel sympathizer to join them.” He paused, then added, “Remember your loyalties, Emperor’s Hand.” Leia bristled, as much at the use of her title as at the implication of his statement. When Vader referred to her it was generally as ‘Lady Darkstar,’ or simply, ‘my Lady.’ He was the only one who addressed her in that way and she found that it bothered her to have him use her actual title, instead. ‘Lady,’ at the very least, denoted some level of independence. “I am always aware of who our master is, Darth Vader,” she answered, coldly, purposely avoiding the word ‘Lord,’ as if to remind him that he owed nearly the same level of servitude to the Emperor as she did.
[Anakin’s] eyes were wide now - and suspiciously bright. "Then you . . you think the Council was right. That I should have been sent . . ." "No, Padawan," said the Master. "That's not what I mean, at all. A gift such as yours cannot be ignored. You must be trained - but there are many Masters among the Jedi. Many who are wiser than I. I don't regret insisting that you be trained - but I will regret for the rest of my life the method I chose to use to pursue it - for the cost was more than I could have imagined." Once more, he turned to gaze out into the fading light of late afternoon. "I saw only what it was convenient for me to see - and I sacrificed a life . . . that was not mine to give. He was . . . the center of my existence - and I closed myself off from him. Almost - but not quite fast enough to avoid knowing what I had done to him. I destroyed him, Anakin, - then fooled myself into thinking that I could make everything all right, simply because I wanted it so badly." Anakin sank to his knees in the center of the room, feeling a great weight settle on him. "You'll never feel that way . . . about me." Once more, Qui-Gon sighed. "Is that what you think, Anakin? Is that what you conclude - from what I've said?" The boy nodded. "I'm not him - and you . . .loved him. I won't ever be . . . who you want me to be."
“And now the Jedi Order wanted to make him a knight. Obi-Wan could not quite suppress a rueful smile as he lifted his eyes to regard the ancient Master who had just made the statement that he had been waiting all his life to hear. For the merest fraction of a second, he had a completely illogical wish to unlearn what he had learned - to NOT know what he knew. Then he sighed, and knew what he must do. "No," he said softly - and in that single syllable was the death of hope - the end of a dream. The shattering of a broken heart.”
Of all the problems Joran had with the Jedi, Qui-Gon was never one of them. He and his former Padawan may have disagreed about a few issues, but Qui-Gon had always been loyal to him and it had been a pleasure training such a talented student. If he had one regret, it just might be the loss of his relationship with Qui-Gon. He had enjoyed the younger one's company and youthful attitude, happy to see a Jedi with some defiance, even if it did challenge his own ideas perhaps a little too often.
[He] would remain hidden, a shadow in the Force's light, until the bright soul he had once known had gone from the space vessel. Then the darkness could emerge, and the once-loved apprentice would never know he had been so close.
What kind of creature functioned in that bland, disgusting state? What sort of demon would reduce a quick-witted, intelligent, compassionate woman to a mound of ash and smoke? And then have the audacity to stay in place, beside the man who had adored-and lost-her? The Temple was buried in sorrow. Masters, Knights, Padawans and crechelings shuffled from the main building to the pyre, arms entwined, expressions severe. And Bant. She'd been there, too, off in a corner, her braid clutched in quivering fingers. The flames had reflected in her wide, welling eyes. The fire…it was everywhere. Later, when he tried to sleep, huddled in his bed, it sizzled and licked around him, the stench clogging his senses and filling his mind. It would never leave him. It would never forget what he'd done.
Qui-Gon stroked the cropped spikes of hair, "And I choose you now, Obi-Wan. I choose you over complete desolation and the futility of a lonely life. I choose you because I know you still exist, beneath the false guilt." He reached out and, with acute tenderness, embraced his student. "I can't let you leave. I still believe we can find you, Obi-Wan." Obi-Wan's head was tucked under his Master's chin, and for the first time in a decade, he felt…but then it vanished, under the mounds of ash. As he knew it would. He leaned against Qui-Gon, and listened to his heartbeat, gradually bringing his arms around the man's waist. Qui-Gon dissolved in his grateful weeping, so he didn't hear the tiny little murmur, stolen on the wind. "I can't."
“I am Force-sensitive as well but not nearly as powerful as Luke is.”
“Colonel Klivian, sir, did you sign those forms?” “What? You only gave me them a minute ago!” “No, sir, the other ones – about my transfer.” “Oh, those ones. I lost those.” “What?! … Sir.” “Kidding. I’ll get them to you in a couple hours, when I find them.” “It takes you two hours to sign forms?!” “Sure. Dismissed, Lieutenant.” Most people would say there was nothing good about war, especially this one. People dying: not good. Worlds being destroyed: not good. Aliens from another galaxy, hell bent on destruction and domination: not good. A lot of people said there was never anything good about any war – what did it achieve if not more pain for all concerned. Hobbie figured those people hadn’t fought in the Rebellion – or the Empire, come to that. Sure, war had more than its fair share of bad points, but how the hell else did these people expect their freedom?
Even before his X-wing's sensors had time to scan and identify the new ship, Corran Horn knew it was trouble that knowledge was not based on the ship's unscheduled, unannounced reversion to realspace in the Pyria system in the month since the Rebel Alliance took the planet Borleias from the Empire, more ships than Corran cared to remember had popped in for a quick survey of the place
Even before his X-wing's sensors had time to scan and identify the new ship, Corran Horn knew it was trouble. That knowledge was not based on the ship's unscheduled, unannounced reversion to realspace in the Pyria system. In the month since the Rebel Alliance took the planet Borleias from the Empire, more ships than Corran cared to remember had popped in for a quick survey of the place.
The speeder I finally bought had to have these parts replaced: the air intake, the pressure gauge, and the front repulsorlifts.
I finally ended up buying a speeder and replacing: the air intake, the pressure gauge, and the front repulsorlifts.
“I fell in love with my best friend. I then turned to the Dark Side when she died and ignored my padawan for some time. I now understand why romance is not allowed in the Order.” -Qui-Gon Jinn, Jedi Master “Well, there is this woman who likes to make fun of me, and though I do find her wild behaviour extremely attractive at times, the sexual tension is simply a distraction from our duties. I am married to the Order, and no one else.” -Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight “He said what? I’ll kick his ass! And then when he’s on the ground I’ll – wait, kids are reading this, right?” -Siri Tachi, Jedi Knight “Honestly, I don’t see the problem with having romantic attachments...” -Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Padawan “I haven’t smiled in thirty years. That’s why I sit on the Council.” -Mace Windu, Jedi Master & Senior Council Member