Memories of Obi-Wan (Jedi Council only)

[Brandon Rhea]

Memories of Obi-Wan
"You Cannot Escape Your Destiny"

Someone once said that children are our legacy, that they are our destiny just as we are theirs. In that sense, Jhon Cordatus knew that his destiny was that of a guardian for Andraste’s daughter...for Lana. She needed a name, now, after all of this. He couldn’t keep calling her “the girl” or “Andraste’s daughter,” and Lana seemed fitting, given her birthright. Preparing her for her destiny would be his own.

That’s why Jhon had to leave. Like others who came before him, others whose destiny was to prepare heroes for their own, he would have to flee. He would have to exile himself, until the time was right, but he knew that this was not a burden he could carry on his own. The Jedi Council would have to be charged with the secret he bore, and they too would have to bear it.

Perhaps that was why Jhon, instinctively, worked to bring this group of Councilors closer together than the ones that came before. Under the two previous Grand Masters, the Council never felt a sense of solidarity. Arguments and bickering would arise between them. Jhon could still remember feuding with the Augustus, a zealot against the dark side, about how best to confront the Sith threat. Even the Council that came next, whose legacy forever burned in the fires of the Jedi Temple, could not rise to where the Council needed to be.

Jhon wouldn’t have to tell this Council, the one he had brought together, that they would need to remain united and on the path of the righteous in order to help bring about the salvation of the galaxy. A fractured Jedi Council was a fractured Jedi Order, open to taking from the Sith. If the Jedi could not remain united, even in their darkest hours, then hope would be lost.

So he called them together, here in the mountains of Tython, beneath the purple dusk as the moons began to rise higher into the sky. Tython could be a dangerous place at night, with flesh raiders scouring the area, but Jhon could not be anywhere near the rest of the Jedi. No matter how much it pained him to admit it, no one else could be trusted. In the darkest times, even the brightest of lights could fall to the dark side of the Force. There wasn’t even a guarantee these Councilors would remain within the light, but it was a chance he had to take.

As they gathered, he looked at them one by one, reflecting on their time together. While Battle Master Zsaekriel Dtoahfre’Vuun, the Imperial Knight, had amicably left the Order, the rest remained. There was Bektar Vor Tulon, the mighty defensive Battle Master who had already made the Alliance a safer place. Beside him was Adalii Jenarian, the Lore Master, one of the smartest and most historically-minded Jedi he had ever known. Ebberla Daw, the Sage Master, was Jhon’s successor in the only leadership role he ever felt comfortable with, and Jhon knew that his area of passion was in good hands.

And then there was Kara, the one he’d known since she was a child, ever since his younger self pulled her from the flaming wreckage of an attacked ship deep in space. Despite all of her bravado and stubbornness, Jhon knew she was the one person he would lean on the most in these coming times. It was no doubt she would be on the Council soon enough.

“Thank you all for coming,” he finally said. “I know the hour late and these mountains are dangerous, so forgive my unexpected but necessary coyness.”

He let out a sigh, trying to find the right words. “This is Lana,” he said, pulling his cloak away from the infant who rested in his arms. “She is the daughter of my former apprentice, Andraste...and Darth Exodeus. The Emperor believes that I am dead, so for all intents and purposes, I am. You must never admit you saw me, and you must declare me dead. You have no knowledge of this girl. I entrust you all with this secret.”

The Grand Master walked towards the edge of the cliff, looking down at the vast Tythonian landscape. Rivers snaked through the hillsides and waterfalls came crashing down into great lakes that dotted the mountain floors. Far in the distance shone the dim lights of the Jedi Temple, the home of the Jedi, a place he knew full well he might never enter again. It was so peaceful here, seeing it like that.

This was a moment he never wanted to end. Not for himself, but for Lana. Were it not for her lineage, she could have had the life of a Jedi. She should have been in that temple now, being cared for by loving guardians, waiting until she was old enough to begin learning of the Way. Instead she would have only Jhon, a life hidden from the rest of the universe. She would not know friendship, companionship, or the comfort of other souls for years. He would have to force her into the loneliness that Andraste felt living in that orphanage all those years ago, all in the hopes that her destiny would be fulfilled. She would have Jhon, but that would be nearly enough.

No one who had a destiny like this had a normal, well-balanced life. Not Revan, not Anakin, not Luke. No one. However hard they tried, they could never be like everyone else, and that was the greatest burden Lana would have to face. Her life was one that would be dedicated to saving other people’s lives, and she would barely have a life of her own. Even if she won, she could never truly win.

“Destiny was never a word I was particularly fond of,” Jhon told them, flashing a half-smile as he looked back on his old preachings about the future. “Not until I met Lana. Now I know that even while the future isn’t set in stone, destiny is very, very real. Hers is one none of us can envy.”

Turning back around towards them, he said, “Her destiny is that of many who came before, to destroy the Sith of her time and hope that they never return again. For that reason, she cannot remain here...nor can I. We will leave this place, tonight, and go somewhere where the Emperor cannot find us. I will train her as a Jedi. Someday, we will return. When we do, she will be a Jedi Knight, ready to fulfill her destiny. Of that I promise you all.”

He looked upon them with pride, but also with the weight of his responsibility and theirs. “This Council existed long before me, and it will exist long after me. You will choose a new Grand Master, and together you will lead the Jedi. No matter what happens, no matter how this war unfolds, keep hope alive. Lana will return.”

 

[Master Maverick]

Even for the impassive nature of the Anzati, her heart skipped a beat at the realization, the confirmation that this babe was indeed what she had felt. More than the slight taint that resided within her, that she would have to carry within her being for all her days, the immense power that resided within the child was more than she could determine previously. Now, with this knowledge, she knew she didn't want to.

Adalii knew that Jhon was the best and only real chance to teach and train this girl in order to become the savior of the Jedi, one in a long line. She would have a title and a history to live up to, but the Lore Master had no doubt that this little girl would grow into what the Jedi might need some day in the future. Jhon would nurture her into a force of Good in a way that no other could, she knew. As well, this girl would be that which Adalii knew she could never be; a fighting force for the Jedi. Once again she was wracked with such knowledge, but it was simply the truth. Her passion came not from combat, from fighting, from chaos and death. She knew, as well, that this would not change in the foreseeable future. Adalii was young and had many years to live out should her life not be cut short by disease or a blaster bolt.

Darkness was approaching quickly, quite fitting she felt; The Jedi would lose a great member and be all the weaker for it. In these coming and trying times, the Alliance would need all the help it could get in order to even hold out against the Sith. However, given recent events, this might prove to be quite difficult for the uncanny cooperation, unity and coordination of their old enemies. Again, Adalii was wracked with guilt that she could not help in a more traditional sense. Of course she would perform her duties willfully and not falter. She would do as her Grand Master, only to be so for a few more moments, told her. She knew it was for the best and would work with her colleagues in order to ready the Order and the Alliance for their return in whatever way she could.

Of course, Master," she said as she bowed slightly at the hip, bowing her head and even closing her eyes. Rising slowly she allowed her eyes to rest upon the former Sage Master, as she knew he was and always would be. His time as Grand Master was short, only clearly showing his aversion to the position. Not that he did not care to lead the Order, simply that the position was uncomfortable to him, just as it would be uncomfortable for herself. "I will record your death in the Archives in a week's time, when it is discovered that you had not returned. Is there anything else you would have me do, Master?" She wanted desperately to help, but was unsure, at this point, what to do or how to go about it.

Her eyes, for once, showed pools of emotion. What they were would be difficult to ascertain as it was a mix of sadness, despair, fear, doubt, annoyance, determination, and hope. Simply, she looked upon him for direction, as a child might do their elder. Such a thing did not happen often, but this was not Adalii's field of expertise; leading others in such a theatre and in such a scale.

A chill ran through the air, then, as a night breeze hit them. The cool of night was setting with that of the Sun of the planet, heralding the onset of night. She shivered lightly, shaking her from her doubt and erasing the emotion from her mind and, thus, her eyes. Now only determination rested in her eyes and she was ready to do whatever it was that would be asked of her.

 

[Matt]

Bektar stood in the circle of Masters on one of Thython most beautiful mountains with his ''cold face'' as he people called it upon his facial features. A steely face of determination and lack of emotion that did not give into the emotion that swirled within all of his people, but Jhon had seriously put this to the test with his words that struck Bektar like a mountain being dropped on his soul. He was never one where words came flooding out like so many others but kept his thoughts to himself unless he had to say something but this revelation...What could be said?

What words could be said that were deserving of such an occasion? He knew he was sitting here witnessing a moment of History for the order and a strange chill went through his spine as he stared at the small bundle that Jhon had in his procession. There were few in history where greatness marked them at such a young age but this child would be one.

He was sure that Jhon knew what he was doing and was following the best course of action but by the gods he was said to see such a Jedi leaving there order even if it was for something so very important.

''Master Jhon''

Bektar's deep voice kept his emotions from coming out as best they could but even he was struggling with what he could possibly say in such a situation. He decided in the end to stay true to the person he was rather then do a disservice by blurting out all manner of things going through his head.

''It has been an honour, may the force be with you''

He truly hoped it would.

He hoped it would be with them all.

 

[GABA]

It was more of shock and surprise that came to the Corellian, a wave of disbelief to the situation that was just explained before them. The Sage Master studied the tiny baby for a moment in Jhon’s arms as he spoke. His words taking a moment to sink into the young woman as he had explained the baby’s origins as well as what her destiny could await her.

Destiny of itself was not something Jedi spoke lightly of and to speak of someone’s destiny even before the child could speak their own name was a burden of an idea to even think upon. However, the child’s origins would set a destiny she could not escape no matter how the future may warp before them.

Words didn’t escape the Sage Master’s lips immediately as her own thoughts contemplated on the situation. She had to admit, this was the last thing she would have had expected when they were called to this meeting spot. Ebberla held confidence in Jhon. From all that she had heard on the man and from her brief encounters with him, she knew the child would be in good hands.

She too didn’t want to see him go, but she understood, he would be protecting everyone with his absence.

“Be safe.” She stated after Bektor spoke, “The galaxy isn’t as big as we assume it to be; we tend to find things we think that were lost at moments when we don’t look.”

 

[Green Ranger]

Kara stood back and away from the group. Though Jhon had insisted on her presence at the revelation that he wouldn't be returning to the Order, she didn't feel a part of the conversation. These were matters far above her own station, and she had been swept up in the madness. Still, noone seemed to actually have anything to say, which she found odd. Jhon had been cryptic from the moment Kara had taken him aboard the Light of the Force, and had dodged answers about the girl from the moment Kara laid eyes on her, and now he was expecting the Council to just accept his leaving with this...Lana, with less information then even Kara had?

"Why her, Jhon?" she said quietly, seemingly shattering the serenity of the meeting with her clumsy words. As attention moved towards herself, she found herself standing taller in defiance - if they didn't want her to speak, they shouldn't have invited her, and someone had to get to the bottom of this.

"I know Andraste meant a lot to you, but I and everyone else here knows that this isn't like you at all. There's something you're not telling us and, apparently unlike this Council, I want some damn answers."

 

[Brandon Rhea]

Jhon smiled, a warm sign of affection, even in these troubling times admist the tension he knew that the other Councilors undoubtedly felt in Kara’s remarks. Yet Jhon was never one to shun her personality, nor was he one to believe she spoke such words in error. She’d had that for as long as he’d known her, that same brash attitude that he remembered even from the day he pulled her from the smoldering remains of a dying starship all those years ago. That tenacity was something that the Jedi lacked more often than not.

“I understand you want answers,” Jhon told her, before looking at the others, “and you are all entitled to them. I will tell you what I can, but it’s in times like these that we have to remember that we won’t always know everything. Sometimes we have to be content with the questions themselves.”

He looked down at Lana before he spoke, looking into her eyes. They were the red eyes of her father, the Emperor, a curse that she bore in spite of the awesome destiny that awaited her. He knew that destiny was a coin with two sides, one light and one dark, and like all great beings Lana would one day find herself tempted by the dark side of the Force, but he knew in his heart that she would make the right decision when it was needed. That’s why the eyes were so alluring. She represented a hope not seen in a millennium, and yet all most people would ever take notice of were her eyes. So quick would they be to assume ill intent from her that many would miss the light in the darkness that she carried for them. One day they would understand.

“Once there was a title,” he began, his voice commanding a powerful undertone, “a name so important in the galaxy it transcended reality. It was a legend like none that had ever come before. But, over time, as all legends do, it faded. Today we speak of it often, but rarely we do honor it. We thought it was gone forever, but that’s not so. Some journeys were never meant to end.”

The Grand Master knelt down and plucked a flower from the ground, placing it in his arms next to the girl. He watched as she cuddled with it, holding the red dahlia close. She had no idea that it was the flower her mother most adored. Jhon felt a catch in his throat as a tear rolled down his cheek, smiling as he knew that it was as if she was holding her mother tight.

He kept his eyes on her as he said, “Because where flowers bloom, so does hope.”

He looked back at the Councilors again, wondering if they could even begin to understand what such words meant. On their face, they seemed so trivial, but beneath the surface they meant everything. From the corrupt love of a Dark Lord and a fallen Padawan bloomed a beautiful flower, and with it came the hope of a generation.

“And that’s why she’s worth dying for,” Jhon told them. “That’s what it means for Lana to be who she is. She is not just the memory of the Chosen One. She is the Chosen One, a destiny born anew with a child carrying the name of the ones who came before.”

Jhon paused again. The impact of everything he was saying would weigh on him more than the rest of the Council. His eyes slowly shut and he exhaled, feeling some of that weight leave his shoulders as he at least spoke the words, words he’d carried within him and spoke to no others for a decade. Yet he knew how much still remained on his shoulders, a sorrow that he would have to carry, not for himself but for Lana. She would be isolated for years, not having the life that children should. She would never know her parents—a blessing as some would tell her, but a cruel fate to any child who looked into the stars and dreamed of who their parents were. It was a damning fate that hit him like a tidal wave, and yet that was not all of it.

“She’s Darth Vader,” Jhon told them, knowing the fear that such words could bring to them, “and she’s Luke Skywalker. She is their memory. Their legacy. Their destiny.”

But she was more than that, as he had always known she would be.

“She is Lana Skywalker.”

With those words came a release of ecstasy, an awareness of himself that he’d never before felt, a realization and understanding that had never before come to him. For years he’d thought of his moment, knowing that it would one day arrive, yet he never understood who he was in the midst of the Skywalker legacy. Until now.

He was Obi-Wan Kenobi, the memory and legacy of a Jedi Master whose name was spoken with nothing but the highest reverence. He had begun to see that on Lehon, when he came to understand what Obi-Wan Kenobi felt like when Darth Vader turned on him. Yet he was more than Obi-Wan, more than the mistakes that had consumed the Jedi Master. He knew something Obi-Wan didn’t. He knew exactly who he was and what his place in the grand scheme was, an advantage Obi-Wan was never afforded.

It was only briefly that Obi-Wan believed Darth Vader could be redeemed. Now, the Grand Master—no, he wasn’t that anymore—the Jedi Master knew what it meant to be a Skywalker. To be a Skywalker is to be a light in the darkness, even if that darkness was of their own making. It was Andraste, not Exodeus, who descended from Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker. Jhon had seen her be consumed by the monster she always knew was within her as he was escaping Lehon, but that was not the end of her journey, for she was a Skywalker. Jhon knew that beneath all of the darkness that began to consume her, the selflessness with which it was done meant that there would always be good in her.

That was a lesson Lana would know. No one was beyond redemption, least of all a Skywalker.

He didn’t wait for anyone to speak up. The last thing he wanted was a question and answer session. Instead, he pulled his hood tight over his head and turned away, slowly walking towards the trail that would take him down the mountain pass, but he stopped. He looked back, upon his fellow Jedi. Upon his friends. He kept his warm demeanor, smiling, telling them it would all be alright, and he could think of no better words to speak to them.

“The Force will be with you. Always.”

And with that, he was gone, like a ghost, fading into the night. He walked down the mountain pass with confidence, not fearing the nighttime horrors that Tython could bring. It was not a recklessness born of the notion that fate would undoubtedly be met. He didn’t believe in the certainty of fate. He believed in the possibilities of destiny. He believed that the Force had ordained a legacy long ago, and he trusted that its will would be carried out one way or another.

The saga begins anew.