Fulgurite - Definition: Based on the Latin world for "thunderbolt" refers to a hollow glass tube formed when lightning strikes soil, silica, sand or even rock. These amazing structures are sometimes referred to as "petrified lightning" or "lightning stones".
A-A-A
The worst of Tatooine's vicious heat had yet to emerge as Obi-Wan Kenobi, former Clone War veteran and current exiled Jedi, sat on the stone floor of his house. The cool pebbled surface beneath his palm should have brought him some small form of physical relief. But there would be no consolation today, not when the Force was treacherously out of balance.
He had sensed Maul's growing presence like a storm on the horizon. The Dark Sider was impossible to avoid. He left a trail of blood, chaos, and sorrow in his path. Now he had deceived a padawan to come to Tatooine, where both of them were seeking answers that Obi-Wan could not provide.
The Bridge-Maker was in danger. So was the Chosen One.
"I know you are here Obi-Wan," Maul's voice came out in a low hungry rasp. "After years of anguish and suffering, we will meet at last. Your demise will be long and painful."
He remained silent in his pose, refusing to acknowledge or tempt the Dark Sider. Nevertheless, a small spasm instinctively ran down Obi-Wan's spine.
It was a small price to pay for one who aged nearly twenty years in the sandy dunes. The arid suns had bleached the Jedi's hair and spread wrinkles and creases across his face. Maneuvers that once seemed easy now strained his muscles and scraped at his bones.
Oddly enough, he had come to find peace in this desert. Without the majestic splendor of the Coruscant temple, far away from crowded cities and lavish palaces, Obi-Wan's mind had become free of distractions. The endless sand and the vast winds that swept beneath the empty blue sky had become part of his daily sanctuary. His thoughts had grown sharper and keener even as his body grew weary with age.
But this was no longer about his means.
Obi-Wan finally opened his eyes. Several bits of dust had floated upward into the late morning sunshine resembling flecks of gold. The light was deceitful, beckoning man and beast to venture out where the full brunt of twin suns would bear down upon them without mercy.
Maul would have no mercy either, especially on the Bridge-Maker he had been tormenting and taunting as his "apprentice" for too long.
"Find the Chosen One, he must not," Yoda's cautious words floated overhead.
"I know," Obi-Wan said aloud. "Yet if he continues onward, he may find that which could do much harm."
"Do what must be done."
Concern clouded the corners of Obi-Wan's mind. What should he do?
The Dark Sider's voice responded in a high mocking call that goaded Obi-Wan to come out of hiding. The Jedi sensed a ripple of frustration in himself, an emotion that seldom came over him nowadays.
"Look at him," Maul went on. "Watch the boy follow the sound of my voice into the wasteland. How long will he last beneath those twin suns? Will he finally perish in the desert, alone and forsaken?"
In his mind's eye, he saw the bait that Maul had set to lure him. The Bridge-Maker had become ensnared in the sandstorm and incapable of comprehending the struggles around him. Maul's voice swirled around him as the Bridge-Maker blinked in confusion, thoughts and emotions tumbling around inside himself.
"Draw him out," Maul whispered to the padawan. "Your pain, your sorrow..."
Visions of people that Obi-Wan did not know materialized within the young man's thoughts and swept themselves away through the frantic winds. He did not recognize the faces of friends and family or the cool grassy plains of Lothal that ghosted through the padawan's mind. But he could feel the gaping sadness within the seventeen year old student and the aching grief of those he had lost.
"It calls to him."
Blinking his eyes through the gritty sand, the Bridge-Maker called to his droid and urging both of them onward. Hours passed and the sky grew brighter, hotter, and more unbearable. His insides felt withered from having nothing to drink and his mind throbbed from the aching heat. His knees began to tremble weakly yet he continued to place one foot after another.
His resilience was remarkable for a padawan. But even the Bridge-Maker's fortitude finally began to collapse as the astromech by his side wound down. A ripple of empathy ran through Obi-Wan when he saw the boy cry in defeat and kneel down, shaking the droid frantically in an attempt to revive it.
"No! Chopper!" he begged. "Don't do this, buddy. C'mon!" Despite all of his attempts, the droid did not respond. He shook his head and wearily rested his forehead against the scorching metal plates.
"This is all my fault," he groaned sadly. "I should have stayed home." Looking around him at the endless ongoing baked earth, his eyes watered painfully.
"I, I don't know what to do," the Bridge-Maker confessed at last. He suddenly thought of his master and the dull ache within his chest grew painfully strong. He wished that his kind and patient mentor could materialize by his side and comfort him. But the heat and the bareness were his only companions now. All others had forsaken the Bridge-Maker.
He wrapped his arms around the droid and embraced it, clinging to the last shreds of life as if the mere presence of the droid could comfort him. Then he slumped down by the droid with his head resting on his knees. When he did not make the effort to move on, Maul resumed his torture.
"He is dead," the Dark Sider hissed in a mocking tone. "Master Kenobi can no longer save you."
"No," the padawan insisted. He refused to forsake the smallest thought, the merest glint of hope, that the Jedi master still lived. Maul sensed the boy's stubbornness and altered his tactic, using guilt and self-infliction to wound him further.
"You led me to him. Foolish headstrong boy...the Jedi's blood will be on your head!"
The padawan's limbs curled up tightly. "No," he repeated with more firmness.
He continued to protest and defy Maul, even as his fears and losses were being flaunted before him. Maul knew patience and could take his time. He would terrify and infuriate the padawan, accusing him of forsaking and failing his friends, until he had exhausted every drop of energy in his body. Only then would Maul lunge in for the kill.
His image materialized over the padawan, a shadow stark against the blinding white light of the desert. His lightsaber hissed viciously in the air. "You will die!" Maul snarled.
Terrified of the mirage before him, the padawan lashed out at the dry air.
"No!" he screamed, swinging his lightsaber at the nothingness. He landed back on the the ground, fatigued and beaten. Weary from his journey and delirious with dehydration he could not muster the strength to rise again. He lay on the ground and his body felt heavy as stone. A long cruel laugh responded to his pain and resonated in his ears. The padawan could feel darkness tugging at the corners of his mind, luring him into oblivion.
"You should rest now," the Dark Sider suggested. "The ground will protect you."
"I can't," the Bridge Maker thought weakly. "I must find Master Kenobi."
"Later," the voice crooned. No longer sinister, it tempted to him as softly as a cool breeze. "When you have your strength again. The sand is endless and the desert goes on forever. You must sleep now before you lose your strength."
Slowly, the padawan began to relent. "Just for a few minutes," he agreed wearily.
"Of course, of course," the voice murmured seductively. "Just a few minutes of rest...sleep..."
The boy did not stir. He lay exposed beneath the wrath of the two suns and his eyes finally closed, surrendering to a feverish haze. The suns had reached their peaks in the sky and were bearing their full power down upon him. The sight of his plan unfolding perfectly before him caused Maul to laugh again in triumph.
"Enough," Obi-Wan said aloud. It was then that he realized he was angry, not with Maul or his masters or even the Force, but with himself. Had he become so self-righteous, so absorbed in his mission of seventeen years, that he could not even assist another person? Was it not enough that the Purge of Order 66 had slaughtered student and master alike? How could he stand by passively while the padawan's life was ebbing away?
He placed a hand on the ground and rose with more firmness and decisiveness than anticipated. If it was Maul's trap for him, so be it. Obi-Wan would not allow anyone else to suffer in his place. Refreshed clarity urged him on as he swiftly yet diligently packed his saddle bags with ample supplies. The dewback stamped one stubby foot on the ground restlessly but Obi-Wan stroked its head, whispering gentle words of reassurance to the beast.
He tugged the cowl further over his face to provide sufficient shade. Nevertheless, when the dewback stepped outside the blinding whiteness forced Obi-Wan to squint to see further. The desert's gaping landscape lay before him. Lids covered his eyes as he delved back into the Force.
"Master, help me find him," he pleaded. The message hovered before him and the Force carried Obi-Wan's plea from one world to the next. Despite the heat, a small shiver ran through Obi-Wan when his mentor's benevolent tone reverberated back through him.
"Follow the Northern Winds," Qui-Gon assured him. "Save the Bridge-Maker."
The Jedi murmured a few words into the dewback's ears and flicked the reigns. Together they rode off into the light.
A-A-A
Three hours later, Obi-Wan saw two small dots on the horizon.
He urged the dewback further and only slowed down when they were close enough to see what had transpired. The sand-caked astromech stood frozen in place. It must have run out of power hours ago. Next to it was a human lying face-down in the sand. Obi-Wan slid off the dewback and approached slowly, allowing his presence to block the sun from the boy's face.
He lifted his head up to Obi-Wan and the eyes flickered restlessly. But even this was too much effort for him and his head collapsed back against the ground.
Obi-Wan knelt beside the boy and turned him over so that he could see the face properly. The skin was taut from a day in the desert and matted with sand. Brushing grime off his face, Obi-Wan noticed two parallel scars running across the left cheekbone. It may have been years since he had witnessed a lightsaber duel but Obi-Wan could recognize the aftermath when he saw it. This padawan was fortunate to have escaped with a minor blow.
Obi-Wan used his fingers to clear most of the sand out of the boy's nostrils and beneath his eyelids. Then he propped up the boy's head with an arm and placed a leather bottle to his lips. The mixture of water, honey, and herbs trickled over his cracked lips and ran down his chin. The eyes parted just enough for Obi-Wan to see a glimmer of blue threatened by the thin red veins where the sun-fever had taken hold of him. He tried to speak but only a dry rasp came out of his throat.
"Drink," Obi-Wan commanded. "Save your words for later." The boy seemed to comprehend the Jedi's order because his lips closed around the lip of the bottle and he began sucking down the water in frantic gulps. When he had swallowed half the contents of the bottle, his head nodded heavily and he slumped forward. Obi-Wan pressed a hand to his forehead, using the Force to sense his condition.
The result was a positive one. The padawan had merely fallen asleep.
Obi-Wan removed his cloak and wrapped it around the boy to protect him further from the heat. Then he pulled the hood down securely over his head. The shade must have provided relief because the boy mumbled something and then sighed with relief, drifting deeper into a calm doze.
Obi-Wan gazed down at the young man enveloped in the Jedi robes that were still too big for him. Was it a warning, a reminder to Obi-Wan that the padawan had stumbled off his path and into a secret too great to comprehend? Or was it a message of things to come, of a future role that the Bridge-Maker had yet to step into?
A flash of light descended from the twin suns and bounced off something metallic, catching Obi-Wan's attention. The boy must have dropped his lightsaber during his hallucination. Obi-Wan reached out to where it had fallen several feet away and carefully picked it. He had seen a variety of designs in his past lifetime and even now could recognize the craftsmanship of one who had labored carefully and diligently to build it. Curiosity sparked within Obi-Wan. He was intrigued to know more about the lightsaber and the progress of this Bridge-Maker's training.
But those answers would have to come later. For now he respectfully clipped the lightsaber back onto the padawan's belt. It would not bode well for a fellow Jedi to remain defenseless in these uncertain times.
There was no further time to waste on questions or deliberations. Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around the boy and lifted him up, carrying him forward and then placing him onto the dewback. The droid was heavier but with some calculated maneuvers, and a light push of the Force, Obi-Wan managed to secure it to the back of the saddle and tie it down. A flare of pain spread across his back and he pressed a hand against his spine to steady himself. The pain ebbed away eventually but reminded Obi-Wan that he was no longer the young dashing general from the Clone Wars.
Obi-Wan placed both hands on the saddle and hoisted himself up onto the dewback, wedging himself between the padawan in the front and the droid in the back. The dewback grunted at the added weight but Obi-Wan patted it affectionately.
"Thank you, my good friend. Your efforts will not go unnoticed today," he assured the dewback. "You have our gratitude."
The beast snorted but lumbered off, eager to get out of the suns' ways. As it plodded onward, Obi-Wan kept his arms wrapped protectively around the boy. While the desert landscape hovered before them, the Force spoke to Obi-Wan the story how these events had come to pass.
It whispered to him the story of Ezra Bridger.
A-A-A
So Caleb Dume had survived the Purge.
This knowledge was of great comfort to Obi-Wan after he had came to a clearing and then set Ezra down beside the dewback. Doing so had caused something small and hard to fall out of his pocket. Obi-Wan had intended to replace the object back in the boy's possession immediately but he found his fingers holding the chip of the holocron for a mere moment.
The brief contact with such a powerful Force-driven object had caused thoughts to go flooding back to him, pieces of an eternal puzzle fitting some of themselves together. He was now aware that the young man before him had found a mentor through one of Obi-Wan's late friends.
She was known as General Depa Billaba to her officers but to Obi-Wan, Depa was an insightful and compassionate friend. During the Clone Wars he was distressed to hear of the massacre of her troops by the hand of General Grevious followed by Depa's comatose state for several months. Few Jedi could have resumed a commanding role after such an ordeal with such diligence but Depa had woken and risen up with more inspiration and resilience then before. When she rode into battle again, it was with an apprentice at her side.
Caleb Dume. Now that name was an entirely different story altogether.
Obi-Wan could feel the corners of his mouth instinctively tug up at the memory of a youngling in the Jedi temple with curious green eyes and a hand that was constantly waving in the air, finding questions within questions and riddles within answers. His behavior vexed more than one teacher yet Obi-Wan was intrigued by his open and frank mannerisms. And while Caleb Dume wasn't the greatest of fighters or the swiftest of the younglings, there was a goodness and sincerity in his character that brightened up Obi-Wan's thoughts.
By why take the name Kanan Jarrus? Was his ashamed of his background? How had he discovered this padawan and managed to teach him so much of the Force in such a short period of time? Even more intriguing, how had he accomplished it with limited resources and with the wrath of the Empire on his heels?
Obi-Wan's thoughts were temporarily distracted as the dewback slumped onto the ground for a well-deserved nap. The beast's massive body would continue to provide ample shade as the twin suns would rotate and nightfall would rise. The Jedi turned his attentions outwards as he prepared camp and built a fire. When the heat of the day finally began to ebb away, Obi-Wan unwrapped the robes from around Ezra and placed them back on himself. A clean cool night air was approaching and it would refresh the padawan and clear his thoughts.
The astromech was easily hooked up to a cylinder station and activated itself in less than half an hour. It gurgled with confusion and then the red dome rotated to Obi-Wan. The droid made a sound that resembled an aggravated cough.
"You had quite a bit of sand stuck in your gears," Obi-Wan told the droid. "Fortunately, you should be operating on full capacity soon."
It's focus went from Obi-Wan to the sleeping padawan and it instantly wheeled over to him, beeping sounds of panic and concern. The plug into the station yanked out of its side.
"He'll be all right," Obi-Wan assured the droid. He walked over and hooked the droid back up to the cylinder. "You should focus on getting yourself fully charged. I was surprised to find both of you wandering around out there," he added. "Droids and children just do not go scampering around Tatooine's wasteland in the middle of the day for the fun of it."
The droid gurgled in the negative and delivered a string of irritations and accusations against the sleeping padawan. It was not his fault that Ezra Bridger had decided to come to Tatooine or get them both lost in the sandstorm! The meddlesome Loth-rat was constantly causing trouble for Chopper.
Again, the glimmer of a smile crossed to Obi-Wan's face. "Your courage is commendable, Chopper. It's been a long time since I've seen such loyalty in a droid."
Chopper's dome whirled around and he chirped a note that sounded oddly like gratitude. Droids were seldom commended for their merits. Several whistles followed and Obi-Wan listened attentively as the droid explained why they were on Tatooine. Several colorful binary curses followed the description of the pesky horned Zabrak who had been tormenting Chopper and his crew to no end.
Somewhere in between Chopper's binary rants, Obi-Wan's gaze went from the droid to the padawan.
What to do about Ezra Bridger? He could not know yet about Obi-Wan's mission to watch over the young man at the Lars homestead who carried a great and terrible fate in his bloodline. It would be two more years until the signal would flare up in the form of a distress call from Princess Leia begging Obi-Wan for help. Only then could Obi-Wan proceed on his mission alongside the son of Anakin Skywalker.
But for now, the Force was cautioning him about opening up secrets that were not his to share.
He did not wish to dissuade Ezra. But Obi-Wan knew he owed much to his friends, to Mace Windu and Depa Billaba as well, to protect the young man from abilities beyond his current grasp. He must get Caleb Dume's padawan away from this arid rock and back to his family. With this resolution in mind, Obi-Wan sat down across the camp fire and gently fed it with an occasional twig or two.
The teen on the ground shifted in his sleep. Obi-Wan glanced up just as Ezra had unconsciously slipped an arm under his head for support and then resumed his quiet breathing.
"Young and reckless," he thought. But Obi-Wan quickly reprimanded himself.
He remembered being a brash robust boy of thirteen, overeager and confident that he would gain Qui-Gon's approval as his new apprentice. The Jedi Master responded with blunt words that slashed through Obi-Wan's adolescent fantasies. He informed the youth that he could not teach one who chose brute strength and rash words over humility and insight. It had taken much effort for Obi-Wan to swallow his pride but through their adventures together, he had gradually managed to gain Qui-Gon's trust. To this day, his master's guiding spirit from the other realms of the Force was of great comfort to him.
As Obi-Wan's thoughts of the past and the present swirled and melded together, he continued to sit patiently and contemplate how these peculiar events would turn out.
He did not have long to remain passive. Despite his insane trek into the desert, Ezra regained his strength quickly. Soon he was awake, blinking in confusion and rubbing the last bits of the sand out of his eyes. Bewilderment turned to relief and then delight when he saw Chopper charging himself up and then the presence of the Jedi before him.
But Obi-Wan could not share in the padawan's optimism. He kept his voice passive and straightforward when he finally spoke to Ezra and uttered the words he had been waiting to say all day:
"You're in the wrong place, Ezra Bridger."
What followed was a bittersweet conversation, the relief of finding a fellow Force-user tempered by the risks Ezra had taken to coming to Tatooine. As he eagerly insisted that Obi-Wan was the solution to all of their problems, that he would help them destroy the Sith, it took great effort for Obi-Wan not to shake his head in disbelief.
Couldn't the padawan see his own spark of rebellion shining within himself? Or grasp just how much he and his crew had accomplished in a few precious years? He must not have perceived his own accomplishments and so Obi-Wan would have to remind him of them.
"What you need you already have," he assured the padawan. "Unfortunately, you seem to be letting it all go."
Confusion and frustration flickered across Ezra's face as he attempted to grasp the Jedi's message. "If I had what I needed," he stammered, "then why would the holocrons send me to you?"
"Because you saw something that could endanger yourself and the future of the Force," Obi-Wan thought sadly. "Because I lost my best friend to the Dark Side and the least I can do is protect his son from sharing in the same tragedy."
Obi-Wan said none of these things. These were not his tales to share nor was Ezra his own apprentice to instruct. Yet in Ezra's question there lay the answer to this conflicted padawan.
"They didn't," Obi-Wan told him. "Maul did."
The utterance of the Dark Sider's name silenced Ezra at once. His face became rigid with shock. At last he seemed to be grasping the gravity of the situation and the humility in his eyes told Obi-Wan that the padawan was beginning to come to terms with his rash actions. He could no longer look Obi-Wan in the face and instead, turned his head away in defeat.
Obi-Wan found himself reaching out and resting a hand on Ezra's shoulder, then gesturing for him to sit down. The padawan complied and listened attentively.
"Maul used your desire to do good to deceive you," he explained as gently as possible. "He knows your fear, your heart..."
Obi-Wan glanced aside to the young man who was no doubt thinking how foolish his actions had become and how far he had strayed because of Maul's influence. He watched Ezra's face distort with pain and sadness. The padawan closed his eyes and shook his head.
There was no need to chastise Ezra any further; he was already upset with himself and Obi-Wan would not push him further into torment. "He manipulated the truth," Obi-Wan went on. "Which has led you here...where you should never have been."
He could only imagine the padawan was remembering the tricks Maul had used, masterfully creating webs of deception that had ensnared Ezra and lured his footsteps deeper into darkness. Ezra had had the best of intentions and the noblest of wills yet the outcomes horrified him with their disastrous results.
"Why?" Ezra whispered faintly. "Why?"
"Because there is a boy who is your age, save for two days time, who lives beneath these two suns," Obi-Wan did not say. "Because if you knew about him right now then the Empire would slaughter your friends and take both of you away."
"But the holocrons," Ezra fumbled. "They tell the truth."
The truth. What was the truth to Obi-Wan, who had hoped for a prophecy and watched it turn into a nightmare? He had learned to be wary of trusting in uncertain expectations. In some ways, the padawan made Obi-Wan think of his former student. The old wound had never healed, not since Mustafar, since the taste of ashes and death swirling around the thick heat chocking in their throats, of Anakin's Skywalkers burning eyes boring into his head and the vicious scream of accusation-
"I hate you!"
Obi-Wan drew himself back to the present. No, he was not surrounded in the fiery walls of Mustafar or dodging the blows of his best friend's lightsaber. It was a peaceful night beneath Tatooine's stars and Ezra was still beside him, listening to what Obi-Wan had to say. An attentive ear was not something to take for granted and Obi-Wan had to make the most of the situation.
"The truth is often what we make of it," he heard himself say. "You heard what you wanted to hear, believed what you wanted to believe."
"As did I," he thought to himself sadly.
Aloud he went on. "Now the only one who has gained anything from this is-"
"Me."
A single word growled in the darkness. Jedi and padwan both glanced up to see Maul standing on the other side of the campfire. His clothes were filthy from the sands and dry wind but there was no trace of fatigue in his face. His eyes glittered fiercely at Obi-Wan with unbridled hatred and his teeth flashed like the fangs of a poisonous snake. For the briefest of moments, the Dark Sider's attention veered away from the Jedi to the padawan beside him, but then settled back on Obi-Wan.
Resolution strengthened Obi-Wan's limbs. This creature of darkness before him had brought overwhelming pain into both of their lives. He would not permit Maul to advance a single step further on his warped quest.
Ezra nearly jumped up until Obi-Wan firmly made him sit back down. His intention was to protect, not patronize. But the padawan would have to obey his instructions if this terrible tangled fate was to ever smooth itself out.
"You must go now," he commanded Ezra.
The padawan rose to his feet."I led him to you," Ezra confessed. "Let me make it right."
Warmth tugged at Obi-Wan from the plea in Ezra's voice. There was no trace of arrogance in his tone, only eagerness to amend his error. It was a gallant offer, however foolish the intent, and Obi-Wan now understood the best way for the padawan to assist was to remove himself from the situation.
Besides, he remained a young soldier and there were days ahead when the Rebellion would need Ezra Bridger's help. The least Obi-Wan could do was get him to where he would be needed the most.
"That is not your responsibility," Obi-Wan insisted firmly. "I will mend this old wound."
He said nothing more but Ezra gazed at the pale calm blue eyes of the Jedi, reading and listening to the unspoken message Obi-Wan was sending him.
"You have a promise to keep for your family. They need you. You are the one who can bring hope to the Rebellion."
Obi-Wan gestured to the dewback. "Ride north. That is your way out."
For the briefest of moments, Obi-Wan could feel the strength of the Force wavering in this moment of imbalance. Would the padawan defy the Jedi's orders? Take out his lightsaber and charge recklessly against the once and former Sith, like so many unfortunate foolish ones before him? Or would he heed the words of a mentor and reclaim his duties?
The tense moment ended when Ezra turned his back on Maul and walked towards the dewback. This act of acceptance meant more than Obi-Wan could express openly. Ezra Bridger would not fall to the darkness today. Not when there was still hope in his path that could guide him back to his worthy journey.
"Your way home," the Jedi added gently.
The padawan would have spoken words of gratitude but those fleeting moments with Obi-Wan confirmed that none were required. The best he could do for this Jedi who had rescued him was to heed his words. Ezra did exchange a final glance at Obi-Wan and to the old man, the padawan seemed to stand a little taller than before. The blue his eyes appeared brighter, less worried. A hint of maturity crossed his face.
Then the Bridge-Maker and his droid left. Half of the battle was already won. Now to deal with the other half...
The conversation between Obi-Wan and Maul was a bitter one in comparison. This monster had murdered people that Obi-Wan had cared for, including his own master and the only woman he had even loved. Yet he did not rise to Maul's taunts, even after he was provoked and pestered, called "a rat in the desert" out of mere spite and malevolence.
But as the Dark Sider continued to talk, the glimmer of evil in his eyes grew hungrier and stronger. Maul was no fool; he knew that Obi-Wan had not come to hide himself in the sands of Tatooine by mere coincidence. He would question and provoke until he got the answers he desired. "You are protecting something?" Maul suggested with a sneer.
Obi-Wan did not move or speak. But in his silence, Maul had drawn out the truth that had been living quietly and discreetly within the galaxy for seventeen years.
"No," he confirmed with glee. His eyes now blazed with madness and his mouth twisted into a cruel smile. "Protecting someone."
It was over before it began. Obi-Wan drew out his lightsaber and the will of the Force, remembering the ill-fated duel on Naboo decades ago. He vowed to his late master, to his once-and-former apprentice, to the boy who lived on Tatooine and the one who had lived on Lothal, that it would end now.
Three strokes lashed out in the desert.
Two lightsabers clashed in the air.
One Dark Sider fell that night.
Maul perished in the sands of Tatooine, buried beneath a thousand secrets of the Force. His death was of no consolation or comfort to Obi-Wan. The demise of enemies is not something for Jedi to celebrate. His heart felt no lighter than it had these past seventeen years as Obi-Wan laid the corpse of his former enemy onto the ground and used the Force to sink his body into the sands until the last of Maul's tattoos dissolved beneath the surface of Tatooine. His body would lie beneath the dust for eternity; the only everlasting peace a Dark Sider could find after his long and weary broken path.
There was nothing left for Obi-Wan to do but rake more sand over the coals to ensure that the fire was completely put out. His heart was heavy as he folded his arms inside of his robes and began to cross the dunes. A restless wind tugged at his sleeves and the corners of his hood.
He only stopped once to gaze up at the sparkling heavens over his head. "Is he safe? Did Ezra Bridger arrive home?" he dared to ask.
The breeze swirled around his ankles. "He is safe," Qui-Gon assured him. "You did well, Obi-Wan. Depa Billaba would be grateful."
"I delayed too long," Obi-Wan insisted aloud. "I should have helped him sooner. I will not make that error again."
With a weary heart and aching bones, he continued walking forward until he reached his house.
A-A-A
The next day:
The suns rose again, replenished and defiant, when Obi-Wan heard a sound outside his door.
The dewback was outside the tiny gated porch and stomping the ground impatiently. "Welcome back, my good friend," Obi-Wan called out.
He drew forward and carefully untied the saddle from the dewback's neck. The beast groaned with relief and rubbed its snout against the ground. "I trust the padawan and his droid were not too much for you?" Obi-Wan asked.
His palm smoothed the dewback's face and stopped when it felt a patch of new fresh skin under the beast's jawline.
Shedding last year's dry scales was a common necessity for dewbacks. But it was difficult for them to get at the scales and they would often scratch and strain in discomfort. Someone had helped to peel off the dead scales, which must have been a great relief to the dewback.
Hmm.
Obi-Wan unhooked the saddle and then took down the satchel before entering his home. Opening up the satchel, he was surprised to find everything he had packed was still in place. Not even the food or the credit pieces had been taken. The only noticeable difference was the empty water bottle. A small rolled-up piece of parchment had been stuck into the bottle's neck in place of a stopper. Obi-Wan extracted it and unrolled the paper. Someone had written a message in Basic in slanting but careful letters.
"Thank you for helping me find my way home. I hope that we'll meet again at a better time and place."
There was no signature at the bottom. Instead, the drawing of a feline creature with long pointed ears and distinctly sharp teeth starred back at Obi-Wan.
A-A-A
Evening:
The dewback drew up to the hill where the Lars homestead sat peacefully between the evening suns. Obi-Wan slowed the dewback down as he observed the white domed house now tinted pink from the fading light of dusk. A woman's voice called out, bright and sweet against the lazy leisure evening ahead.
No sooner had she spoken then a speck of a human being flitted across the landscape and went into the house.
Obi-Wan stroked his beard pensively. Who did know all the secrets of the Force? Not him, for certain. And yet after all these years of silence and solitude, two Force-users had stumbled into his path and he had directed them as best as he could. One back into the Light, the other into the world beyond.
The speck ran out of the house and towards one of the meteor rods. Obi-Wan managed a faint smile. No doubt Owen Lars' nephew had neglected in his chore and now had to make amends by mending it properly. He watched the meteor rod's light blink twice and then send out out a steady orb of green light. The person who attended it returned to the house.
"Uncertain are the futures of Skywalker and Bridger," Yoda reminded him. "Young and reckless, they are."
A thought surfaced in Obi-Wans conscience. "They could learn, Master Yoda," he suggested softly. "They could become friends."
"Perhaps," the mentor murmured.
Yes, perhaps indeed. Perhaps one day when this evil time had ended and peace and justice were restored, the Bridge Maker and the Walker of Stars could build a better future for all people in the galaxy.
Perhaps it was a futile wish, a dream of something beyond Obi-Wan's comprehension. But he let the wish linger in his mind as he thought back on the beautiful memories of the past, of happy times shared with friends and comrades. He thought of two young men who were different in their backgrounds and personalities as well as their homes: one of twin moons and another of twin suns. Yet each had his share of courage and loyalty, his unique bond with the Force that glowed from within his soul.
Then he thought of the unknown future that could unfold, if they dared to achieve it together, out of the darkness and into worlds glowing brightly.
A bridge of stars shining across the universe. A hopeful future, indeed.
END