Disclaimer: Own nothing except the plot
Author: Jollification
Rating: T for teen
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Forces
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"Our forces are moving forward General, slowly, but they are moving forward" the clone relayed.
"Good, report if there are any changes" the tired Jedi answered.
The sun's merciless rays poured into the sinkhole, causing the already unpleasant temperature of Pau City to rise even higher. The clones were practically cooking in their armor, but still, they fought against the tirade of droids with amazing endurance. Gazing at the blue translucent hologram in front of him, the Jedi watched closely as the clones inched slowly forward on the battlefield, holding up bravely against the droids.
"Commander, I think it would be best to move more of the 2nd Airborne to the front lines," the Jedi ordered.
"Agreed, General Jinn" the clone answered.
Stepping away from the hologram console, Qui-Gon removed his helmet, allowing warm air to assault his face. Tired blue eyes swept over the walls of Pau City, the rock walls and small buildings the only thing greeting his sight. A gentle warm breeze fluttered through his short graying hair, a testament to his age. Slight frown lines and wrinkles marred the face of the Jedi, showing what decades of stress and sorrow had done to the physical being of the Master. Noting that there were no clones in his immediate surroundings, Qui-Gon reveled in the small moment of silence, reflecting.
The ache of stressed muscles and tired bones leaked to his core, making him stretch out his arms above his head in attempt to banish the soreness. He felt too old to be doing this, he felt tired, weary. A small voice in his head reminded him that he was not the oldest Jedi in the field, pictures of Mace Windu and Yoda greeting his mind. Qui-Gon gave a quick thought as to how they were doing, the last he had checked Yoda was on Kashyyyk, and frankly, Qui-Gon had not spoken to Mace in quite some time. A small smile penetrated the Jedi's serious features as past memories danced through his mind, temporarily occupying him with the past, instead of the dire present.
Qui-Gon remembered past missions and narrow escapes. Mist of all, he remembered his apprentice.
Obi-Wan.
A new, dull pain echoed through his body, this one radiating from his heart. Even after all these years, the grief remained. Qui-Gon remembered how the boy had lit up his life after Xanatos had turned. Qui-Gon found it hard to imagine what life would have been like if he had not had Obi-Wan at his side, the child he remembered and loved as his son. A sad smile graced the General's face as memories of all the times they had ended up in the Healer's Ward together after numerous missions. They always got in some sort of trouble on their missions. Qui-Gon remembered all the times he had woken up to a sleeping apprentice collapsed in a chair next to the bed he was in. But most of all, he remembered the one time his Padawan did not recover. What had started out as a common cold morphed into something worse, and by the time anything could be done, his apprentice had slipped into the Force. Images of the funeral pyre flitted through his mind, and recollections of lonely missions assaulted him. For years he took on time-consuming task after time-consuming task to take his heart and mind away from the pain. Trying to forget the pain every time he looked into the boy's room, frozen in time. The Master never took another Padawan, not after Obi-Wan.
Mostly, the Jedi pondered what kind of man his Padawan would have grown to be. Would he be a High Jedi General like his Master? Would he have an apprentice of his own? No doubt, if the older Obi-Wan would be anything like when he was younger, he would be compassionate, brave, and strong. He would have been an excellent Jedi.
The light sound of footsteps approaching him pulled the war-experienced Master from his musings. Turning to meet the clone, he put on his practiced, stoic mask, expecting the newest relays of the front line to greet his ears.
There was no white armor. There was no clone. Eyes widened at the sight in front of the Jedi Master, not expecting what stood in before of him. This was not real. Impossible. It had to be the heat.
In place of a Clone, stood a small boy, a knowing smile plastered to his face.
He was exactly like the weary Master remembered, ginger-spiked hair, forever morphing green eyes, the impish smile gracing his face. A change from the last time Qui-Gon had comforted him. His skin was healthy, not pale from sickness. The dark, tired circles of sleepless nights no longer fell under his young eyes. The green orbs watching the shocked General shined with life and youth, not the dull, lifeless eyes that plagued Obi-Wan in his final days.
This was not real. It couldn't be.
"Hello, Master" the figure spoke. The boy's voice was lively and happy, something Qui-Gon had not heard in years. Obi-Wan's facial expression changed to confusion at the lack of answer from his Master.
"Don't you remember me Master?" the boy questioned.
His mind was tricking him. The heat had finally gotten to him. Or maybe he had gone insane. Perhaps he was dead. The Force. How could the Force be so cruel as to show the tired Jedi a picture of his dead Padawan.
Dead.
"You're not real," the older Jedi croaked.
"Of course I'm real Master! Don't you remember me? It's me, Obi-Wan, your Padawan" the boy explained.
"My Padawan is dead, he died a long time ago. Who are you? Is this some trick of the Force?" the Jedi demanded.
The child seemed to give this some thought before stating his answer.
"I have been waiting a long time for you Master, I've come to get you" Obi-Wan stated.
"Come to get me? I'm not dead yet, I'm perfectly fine" the confused Master spoke.
"No, but it's close, the Clones are not as loyal as you think" the ginger-haired youth stated knowingly.
Seemingly ignoring this bit of information, the Master seemed to come back to reality, and the situation fully hit him. His Padawan. His Obi-Wan was here, right in front of him. Kneeling down, the Jedi Master attempted to get a better look at his former Padawan.
"You look not a day over 15" he mused, "you look like you did all those years ago."
"That's what happens when you go to the Force I suppose" Obi-Wan explained. "I have missed you Master, you look so different…you look tired," the boy inquisitively stated. "You cut off all your hair!" the child laughed.
That laugh. Qui-Gon had not heard such a happy laugh in years. His heart lightened and a smile grew on his face at the sound of his old Padawan. He had changed. In contrast to the unchanged child that stood in front of him, he looked like a totally different person.
"I'm surprised you found me," Qui-Gon stated.
"I would have been able to find you anywhere Master!" the boy proudly boasted.
The multiple sounds of footsteps approaching the General went unheard.
"Come on Master, there are other people waiting for you too," Obi-Wan happily stated, putting his hand out to his Master.
The weary Jedi gave this a thought.
The Force.
Holding on to his apprentice's hand, white light surrounded him. The heavy feelings of loneliness, sadness, grief, and weariness lifted from him, slowly floating away from him. Replacing them were now feelings of completeness and happiness, as the smiling faces of long-lost friends and loved ones greeted him. Most of all, the face of his Padawan stood out, the face of his son. The Force sang harmoniously in his ears and the weary, war-torn Jedi was finally able to be at peace, the threats of war and death evaporating from his mind and disappearing into the world left far behind.
By the time the betraying blaster bolts ripped through his body, he was miles away.
Happy.
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A/N: Yes, it's short. Just a small little idea I had for a while. By the time of Order 66, Qui-Gon would have been about 73. He doesn't look 60 in Phantom Menace! If it's any consolation, Dooku was like, 93 when he died, and he was still hopping around the galaxy and what not. I don't see why Qui-Gon wouldn't have been able to get through a war. And yes, I am still writing Whispering Silence...I just kind of hit a literary wall block.
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