AN – This story involves the horror of Order 66, as witnessed by Qui Gon Jinn. Its told from his perspective. A vignette, originally published about eleven years ago on , under my Star Wars alias, Jedi Linewalker. As always, feel free to read, review and let me know what you think!
In the name of the Force, what have I done? Jedi are dying all over the galaxy, being turned on by the very troops that serve and follow them in this insane war. Commanders of clone troops near and far are hearing the same order, "Execute Order 66."
Those same troops, so loyal and fiercely devoted just moments ago to the Jedi, nod their heads and say, "It will be done, my lord." That moment marks the beginning of this nightmare in which my brothers and sisters are finding themselves, a nightmare I'm powerless to help them from. I can only part the veil.
From here, as part of the living Force, I can see everything, all at once, in its masterful horror, and am unable to do anything about it, unable to warn anyone of the danger that is headed their way. One by one, the Jedi fall. Masters, Knights, padawans, death has no preference. It wraps its cold fingers around them all, patiently and relentlessly.
Visions pass so quickly on this side of the veil. I can be almost literally everywhere, all at once, I have but to will my consciousness there, and I'm there. The trade off for such a power is amazing, however. I can be here, but I can affect nothing. I can only usher in my brothers and sisters of the Jedi Order that fall in combat to this madman's directive, and try to assuage their souls, and teach them the secret.
The pain of so many dying strikes poor Master Yoda so hard. I know his pain is great, for I feel it too. His small, green body stumbles almost helplessly along the floor of the watchtower on Kashyyyk, accompanied by the two large Wookiees, yet he remains in control. He knows that bad times are coming quickly.
Summoning up every erg of energy I have to me, I focus my mind on one thing: communication. I channel that energy through me, drawing from the vastness of the Force, and whisper in his ear, "Beware, my Master. Treachery is close at hand. Your turn is quickly approaching."
Did he hear me? I don't know. If so, will he heed my warning? I honestly can't say. I just know that I can feel so much pain, so much agony, that the very Force itself shimmers with the sorrow. The waves that flow through the all encompassing, living Force flow through me as well, for the Force and I are now one. I am but a small part of it.
A sharp pain draws me from Yoda's side, suddenly. The Temple, at night. Troopers, marching on the Temple, in perfect formation, led by a cloaked and hooded figure. A Jedi? Who would dare perpetrate such a thing? Who would dare commit such atrocity in the very sanctity of the Temple? Though my mind knows the answer, and I've seen this day coming slowly but surely over the years, my heart screams out in disbelief and refusal to accept this.
If I still lived, a tear would escape my eye. Regardless of how strongly my heart may shout, my eyes see the truth. I stand, unseen by the living, watching this horror unfold. Anakin. How in the name of the Force did I fail you? How could you fall under Obi-Wan's wise guidance? You are the Chosen One, the one that will bring balance to the Force, and restore the natural order of things. It is said you'll destroy the Sith…not become one of them.
I've watched you grow from boyhood, never seen, but always there. I've watched Obi-Wan, who I see as my son, train you, teach you, guide you towards the light, towards the good. I've watched Master Yoda, and others, help Obi-Wan guide you, and lead you through the trials of your life, and this is where you find yourself?
The sounds of the blasters are deafening as the troopers are now moving through the Temple, eradicating what Jedi they find. Where are you going? Anakin, Anakin, no! You mustn't! For the love of life and the Force, please no! My hands cannot stop you as I reach for you, trying desperately to turn you from your path, much as I could not stop you when you slaughtered the Tusken Raiders on Tatooine. Ah, Anakin…such a bright and promising future, such a beacon of hope, now shattered and scattered about the floor like so much glass.
You stride past me still, though I'm still trying to stop you, though I know it's useless. I keep beseeching the Force to allow you to hear me, to know my voice, to hear the calming influence of my words, to quiet your mind and heart, as I used to have to do for Obi-Wan, when he was your age, and younger. I shout at you in a voice that once would cause Gundarks to pause, and turn. Now, I'm less than the gentle breeze blowing through the Temple at your ear.
The door slides open on the Council Chamber, and there, in the room are the younglings. The younglings, Anakin! They are but children! How could you even think such a thing? This darkness in your heart is not of your own devising. You've been poisoned, corrupted, a sinister force has wound it's way into your heart and is eating you away, eating away at the Light Side, leaving only Dark.
The boy comes to you, asking for help, believing in you, believing in who you are, and how do you repay that belief and devotion, my young friend? The snap of your lightsaber igniting is enough answer. From the first swing as these children, these defenseless children, try vainly and valiantly to fight the "Hero With No Fear," Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker. Each is cut down before my eyes as I sit here watching you. I imagine I can smell the sizzle of cauterized flesh and blood as your blade even now continues to slice through warm, small bodies.
Unable to watch you, but unable to close my "eyes," I am forced to watch your actions in gripping horror. Though I no longer have a stomach, it knots up just the same with grief and disbelief. I look into your face, and I see the young man I know, the young man I've known since I first took to watching over you and Obi-Wan…and I see the young man you're becoming, before my eyes. The evil, twisted, dark parody of the good man Anakin Skywalker was growing into.
Where are you going? Through that passage, there is only the balcony. I can't let you out of my sight that easily, so I'll follow you. You don't move for the longest time. I need to see your face, my friend. I need to see the face of the monster I just watched killing children, some of them barely old enough to walk. I wish I could yank that damned hood from your head, and turn you round to me, and confront you. Instead, I can only shimmer about, as I'm doing now.
Lift your head, Anakin. Quit staring down. You're victorious. Doesn't that give you some pride? I'm sorry…I shouldn't have said that. Such bitterness reeks of the Dark Side, and I don't wish to fall, if I even can fall, now, considering. Despite the fact of what you've done, you're still Anakin, or at least you were. What's that? Hold your face a bit more towards the light, Anakin, so that I can see you. A tear?
Were I still living, I would have fallen just then. Thankfully, I'm not. It's a long drop. In the wake of all this evil you've just committed, all these heinous acts you've just done…and you weep? Then the boy I knew is still inside you, somewhere. The boy who gave with no thought of reward. The selfless boy that helped a young queen and two erstwhile Jedi return to the Republic. Can I still reach you?
What are you looking at? Staring across the way so strongly, at what? Awaiting your master, Palpatine, or should I say Darth Sidious, to come praise you? No, Sidious is the furthest thing from your mind right now. I can see it in your face, I can feel it within you. Padmé. I should have known. What will she think, what will she say, Anakin? What will her opinion of the monster she's secretly married to be when she discovers the truth?
With a thought, I'm no longer with Anakin. Instead I'm here, in this luxurious apartment, standing behind a young woman, beautiful, but a face I recognize. It's been a long time, Padmé. I've not bothered to watch you much because I didn't wish to intrude on yours and Anakin's time, but now I see I should have. Maybe with practice, I could have learned to make him hear me.
Seeing you cry like that does not bring me any pleasure. So young, and far too upset, and you don't even know the half of what you should be upset about. If I could touch you, I would offer comfort, instead, I'm a cold ghost that watches you, unseen and unheard, and ultimately unfelt.
Wait a minute. What was that? You jerked suddenly. Your stomach. The babies. Yes, yes, of course. They can feel me. They haven't learned to deal with the physical world as much yet, therefore they are still very open to the nuances of the Force, and they can feel my presence. I can sense their thoughts. Those children would have been a blessing for you and Anakin, I have foreseen this. Yet, with things they way they are now, the future is clouded indeed. The Dark Side has cast a fog over everything.
Love them, Padmé, whether you're with them a lifetime, or but a single moment. Cherish those two children, and what they stand for. Love them for who they are. They will help bring change back to the galaxy one day. Be strong for them, set the example. Be the mother we both know you are.
Feeling yet another pain, drawn to its source, reluctant to leave Padmé, despite not being able to comfort her, I wind up here. This world is beautiful, and exotic. There you are, your blue skin, and long lekku, standing out amidst the white armor of these clone troopers. You've always been such a lovely young girl. With age, you'd have shown much character, I think, much wisdom. As I watch helplessly while the clone troopers are gunning you down before my eyes, firing repeatedly at you, making sure you're dead, I can't help but wish I could shed a tear for you, as I would all my brothers and sisters.
I can feel you, and others, joining the fabric of the Force around me, meshing with me, communing with me. Yes, Ki Adi, Depa, Aayla, Plo, and Kit…you can keep your consciousness about you, at least for a time. I will do my best to teach you how to keep it thus for much longer. I sense that I will have many students in this before this night is finished, my friends.
I'm growing dizzy, or rather I would be, if I could grow dizzy, from the sudden surges that call out to me. The calls of souls joining the Force reaching out to me, bidding me to part the veil for them, and allow them inside, growing louder and louder. I can do nothing but shake my head as I watch a young padawan, Zett Jukassa, I believe, fighting valiantly against the troopers, and keeping them from firing on Senator Organa. My instinct would be to reach out and help him, but alas, I can do nothing. Nothing but watch.
I thank the Force that I'm not alive this evening. I would die of grief from all I've seen, if I were. I'm bouncing from place to place, witnessing horror after horror, until there's little I think that could shock me anymore. So many places, so many people, people I know, all gone. All because of the mysterious Order 66.
I feel drained, and weary. How can that be? I've no body to tire, no muscles to ache, yet the sensation is here, all the same. This small capsule ship is exactly that, small. Trying to get comfortable here will not be easy. I have to laugh at myself. I have no need to fit.
"Hello, my master," I say to you as you sit in your contemplative meditation there in front of me. I can see your face, so haggard looking. I can definitely understand why. You, of all Jedi, have felt the most pain from this night. I empathize with you, my friend.
"Qui-Gon!" you exclaim, as if you've just discovered a new flavor of candy, or something else trivial, but pleasant. "A new trick learned, have you? I am wondering, how is this possible?" The way you fidget in your seat, almost as if trying to give me more room, for a moment is amusing.
Rather than laugh, though, I simply say, "I was determined to put my knowledge to the best use, and to keep vigilance on the boy, and Obi-Wan." This is so hard for me to say, furrowing my brows and glancing at the floor of the small ship in front of you, but it has to be said. "Perhaps I was wrong, Master Yoda. Perhaps Anakin shouldn't have been trained after all."
I must admit I'm surprised that you're not immediately lecturing me on my folly. "Wrong, you were not. The prophecy, incorrectly was it read, I think. Misinterpreted." You are scooting up into the seat in your customary manner, and it brings back fond memories.
The silence is almost deafening, even for a Force spirit such as myself, but finally, you find words to continue. "Skywalker to be trained, he was. It is the way of things. Your judgment follow, I did not. Blind to truth was I. A great Jedi Master were you, Qui-Gon, but too stubborn was I to see."
Blinking eyes that no longer exist, quite sure I'm mishearing you as you speak, your words sounding alien and foreign to me. That was definitely the last thing I expected to hear you say. I can say nothing, so you continue, "Always valued, your thoughts were. Heed your words, I did not. But of the past, this is. How to commune with you, you can teach me, yes? So to train others, I might?"
"Of course, Master Yoda," I reply warmly, surprised by your admission, and warmed by your friendship. I remain with you as long as I can, teaching you what I can about communing with me, and doing what I've done. It's a small consolation to be able to teach you something for a change, a valuable lesson knowing that one can learn from the most unexpected sources. Still, those two bright points of light in the Force, those two unborn hopes carry the wishes and hopes of us all for a brighter future.