Prologue
It was a day like any other on the desert planet of Tatooine. The twin suns blazed high above and an arid breeze blew across the sands. Inside his hut not far from the Dune Sea, aged Jedi Master Obi-wan Kenobi paid it little mind. His body felt the heat as it poured in through his slightly ajar door, but his mind enveloped in the embrace of the Force. He spent several hours each day mediating, just as his late master, Qui-Gon Jin, had instructed him nearly two decades before. It calmed Kenobi's mind, and brought him closer to achieving full oneness with the Force.
Kenobi jolted slightly, his brow furrowing. While in this state the aged master could feel even the most minute ripple in the force, and what he was feeling now was more than a simple ripple. It was a vision. While visions were not uncommon among Jedi, Kenobi had not been prone to them. That had been the territory of masters like Yoda. Qui-Gon's voice was the closest thing to a vision he had been gifted by the Force, even during his self-imposed exile.
The vision was intense and it came in flashes. It lasted less than twenty seconds, but it took all of Kenobi's mental concentration to focus on each individually image before the next one came. Once the ripple subsided, he came back to himself, letting out a soft gasp as his eyes opened. His face was slightly sweaty, but the Jedi ignored it for the moment.
The vision had started with heavy, mechanical breathing; Kenobi had not seen him for as long as he'd been on Tatooine, but he knew who it represented. It was the breathing of Vader, the Sith Lord who had at one point been his former padawan, Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One. The breathing had brought forth a bass-voice. "You can never escape me," it had said, menacing despite its mechanical nature. This had been followed by two snap-hisses, noises he recognized all too well but hadn't heard in years. Clashing lightsabers followed, along with a noise Kenobi knew from personal experience to be made by conjurers of Force Lightning.
The vision had then shifted, showing the face of a young human male. The male appeared to be in his early twenties, but there was something strange about him. Kenobi couldn't decipher what before the Force had shifted to another young man. This one Kenobi knew. It was Luke, the boy the aged Jedi had brought to Tatooine all those years ago, the one he watched in remembrance of the man Vader had once been. Luke was standing in a strange room, holding a blue-bladed lightsaber in his hands. It was angled in a Shi-cho guard, ready to deflect the bolts that the training orb hovering in front of him would fire. Behind Luke stood three individuals: the other young man, Kenobi and a human male a few years younger than himself. Kenobi recognized the man as Rham Kota, a fellow Jedi Master and veteran of the Clone Wars. Like himself, the twenty years since the Great Jedi Purge had aged him, but he still held a rugged grace.
The image had faded into nothingness, but three voices had then echoed through Kenobi's mind. The first was his own. The second he assumed belonged to the young man. The third was Luke's.
"A Jedi can feel the Force flowing through him..."
"I have seen the truth within you, Master. The Dark Side never fully claimed you."
"I feel the conflict within you...Let go of your hate."
The Force had gifted him this vision for a reason. Somewhere in the Universe, something important had happened or was about to happen, and it would change the course of the galaxy's future. The best Kenobi could do was wait. When the time came for him to play his part, the Jedi would come out of exile.