Legacy II


Chapter 29

"I did not say I am incompetent; I merely said that the weapon is inelegant."

Iko-Re scoffed. "I don't buy that. You're blustering."

Kashi-Tan and Atasowen stood by, shifting foot to foot.

The youngest son of the family appealed to his siblings. "You two – you can be witnesses. Let's see who's a better shot, me or my Jedi brother."

"Don't be stupid, Iko," Kashi-Tan grumbled.

Atosowen snorted in amusement. "You might as well exhort Gog and Magog not to bark."

The decrepit animals in question wagged their tails and set up a loud baying of approval, until the repeated admonition s of their masters sent them padding away.

"Jedi do not participate in frivolous displays of skill."

The dark-haired youth smirked. "Then you can watch and be amazed." He clipped a fresh cartridge into his lightweight target blaster pistol and programmed the skeet-pitching droid. "I'll go first. Set the bar high." Dimples appearing to either side of his radiant smile, he took up stance and waited as the machine blipped its readiness and sent the first of ten clay disks sailing skyward over the open field behind the house.

He turned out to be a very good shot indeed.

"Seven," Kashi-Tan declared, when the round was finished.

"Eight!" the sharp-shooter protested. "I got eight!"

"That last doesn't… doesn't count," his brother objected. "You only clipped it; it has to break clean into pieces."

Iko-re rolled his eyes. "Oh yes, let's split scholastic hairs… 'Owen. That was eight."

The eldest leaned against the low stone wall, arbitrating the dispute. "Eight out of ten."

"There. What do you think of that, Master Jedi?"

Obi-Wan cocked a brow. "So uncivilized."

"He can beat you blindfolded, Iko. Don't delude yourself."

"Ha! I'd like to see him try." The pawky adolescent produced a strip of dark cloth, waving it belligerently in front of the judges.

"There is no try," the young Jedi retorted, snatching the blindfold from his taunting relative and fixing it in place over his eyes. "Give me the star-forsaken blaster."

Atasowen was already silently chuckling.

Oblivious to his folly, Iko Re hurried off to reload a fresh batch of targets. "Do your worst!" he called out, merrily, setting the machine at highest speed.

Kashi-Tan counted out the hits. "One-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine and ten, holy carpu two in one – and that would be eleven!" The last clay disk exploded into spinning fragments a bare centimeter above the release slot.

"Eleven out of ten," Atasowen wheezed, tears of mirth streaming down his face. "You just got your arse whipped, Iko. "

The defeated contestant gawked at the shards littering the lawn. "Kriff's sake."

"It's still uncivilized," Obi-Wan decided, handing the weapon back with a slight curl of the lip.

"….Kriff," Iko-Re breathed, transfixed with envy.

"You can't do that with a lightsaber, though," Kashi-Tan pointed out, academically.

"No," Obi-Wan placidly replied. "I would have simply scrapped the skeet shooter and avoided all that trouble in the first place."


There were certain forms of trouble not so easily avoided, however; Ue had insisted upon the formality of another family dinner as send-off for her Jedi guests.

Spicy djo mercifully did not make an encore appearance upon the table; and Qui-Gon was more than generous – immoderate, to be precise – in the replenishing of his young friend's wine glass. By the end of dessert, even the obligatory exchange of mortifying anecdotes did not seem to badly ruffle the young Jedi's serenity.

"I about suffered a coronary when I saw that holo-book floating down off its shelf," 'Owen confessed.

Ue smiled fondly. "He would play hide and seek, and poor 'Owen would look for hours without finding him. I always wondered how that was… he would be sitting under a table sucking his fingers, and 'Owen would look directly at him then pass on without seeing."

Qui-Gon nodded. "Reflexive shielding. It is a common Jedi trait."

Tamasu chuckled. "He would fuss whenever a storm was brewing – a regular meteorological index, the boy was."

"And when guests were about to arrive – he would cry before they rang the bell. It was strange," Ue added.

"Undifferentiated prescience. Also common in Force-sensitive infants."

Old Seniiko, who had shown up earlier and been invited to stay, chuckled softly. "Is greedy muja gobbling a Jedi trait, too, Daijon Jinn?"

The tall man smiled, leaning back in his seat with legs stretched before him. "Some characteristics are unique to their subjects."

Obi-Wan merely arched his brows.

"Speaking of mujas, I've brought along a parting gift of sorts," the elder remarked. He rummaged in a pocket of his long robe and brought forth a rosy-skinned fruit. "This for one," – the coveted delicacy levitated its way across the table into the young Knight's waiting hand. "-and an antique sword for another. Metal. Pre-spacefaring epoch, I should say."

"Such an artifact is of great value; are you certain-"

Seniiko cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Take it back to Coruscant. The Jedi Temple is home to an astounding archive of such things, no? It would please me to donate it… and my dear daijisa, may she rest in peace, never approved of it anyway. You relieve my conscience of a burden."

"We will be happy to accept your donation, on behalf of the Order and the Republic."

"But if you ever have a mind to unload that old racing pod," Iko-Re interjected, "You needn't look so far afield."

"Indeed not," his father coughed. "The district recycling center is within twenty klicks of his borders."


Tamasu shut the study door, and clasped his hands behind his back, feet planted shoulder's width apart.

"We have not had occasion to speak in private since your arrival," he said. "I would not let this opportunity pass."

Obi-Wan dipped his head, subliminally aware that he had drunk a great deal of wine, and was perhaps feeling a slight vestibular distortion attributable thereto. "Your hospitality honors me, Daijon, and though … a certain discord still exists between us, I would not part ways in bitterness."

The patriarch's lined eyes twinkled. "Agree to disagree? Very diplomatic."

"Oh, I can dig my heels in and harangue my opponents into apoplectic rage, when occasion demands it," the young Jedi assured him, a tiny smile tugging at his mouth.

A hearty snort."Well. Perhaps it is just as well.. your poor mother. There are already three of us… four might have been too much."

"Too much debate at every meal?"

The older man chuckled, then sighed, levity fleeing him. "I wish to say this to you now, while the Force blesses this moment. I have always followed my conscience; and I shall always do so. With whatever disapprobation you receive the my principles, and those of my friends, know this: they are the hard-won convictions of men dedicated to freedom and truth, above their own lives. This much I think you understand."

A grave silence. "I do."

"If a time should come, when we are obliged to take a stand upon opposite sides of some disastrous fault line… I should wish at least to mutually recognize that we are both men bound by honor."

Obi-Wan bowed, a weight of premonition sliding uneasily into his gut. "As you say, Daijon."

"Tell me," the silver haired man continued, quietly. "Master Jinn. Was he good to you?"

Taken aback, Obi-Wan blinked. "I-"

"I am not conversant with your ways – not entirely- but I can see clearly who it was that assumed the mantle that by nature would have been mine. "

"Master Jinn is wise, and powerful, and a great Jedi. I could have asked for no better teacher, nor a better friend and counselor."

But the assertion did not satisfy. " Clearly he has done his work well, with compassion - and stern discipline when required… I am not squeamish, daiji-aso. He has your respect and loyalty; but besides this, has he also your affection?"

"We do not –"

"But I do."

There were few in the galaxy who had the audacity to ask, and fewer still to who might lay claim to the right; Tamasu, however, must number among those very few. And one demand for truth was justly met with another.

"I love him as a father."

The words startled their speaker, as though the confession has sounded out of some secret depth, unbidden and epiphanic. But Tamasu only nodded, solemnly, relinquishing some impalpable burden.

The patriarch threw an arm out, encompassing in his gesture the house and all the dusking landscape beyond. "This, I bequeath to the other boys. To you, alas, is left nothing but a legacy not mine to give. I can offer neither protection nor refuge, nor counsel, nor even the paltry wealth I inherited from my own forebears. I wonder… will you take with you the least thing I have to offer: my blessing?"

It was only civilized. It was only right. Obi-Wan knelt, and the elder laid both hands on his head.

"Walk in peace; and if such is denied you, then walk with honor. And may the Force you serve keep you, always."


It was Ue who accompanied them to the spaceport, and delivered them to the docking platform form whence their transport would depart. The night was warm, though a humidity hung in the air, promising more rain. The massive passenger vessel's ramps were lowered, embarkation already in progress.

Ue curtseyed to the tall Jedi master. "For your service to Terajon, and my family, I will always be grateful, Master Jinn. Fare well."

"May the Force be with you, Daijisa." The tall man hoisted both travel packs in one hand and strode away, hailing one of the steward droids.

"Obi-Wan."

They stood, mere paces away from a second and final parting. He bowed his head, bereft of words.

Ue took his hands in hers. "I make no claim upon you, for I know you cannot and must not be so burdened. But hear me: if ever, for whatever cause, you have need of me, of us…. I will give without expectation of return."

His words cleaved hoarsely to his throat, as though unwilling to be cast into irrevocable speech. "I have never thanked you…. for giving me life, twice over."

"There is no need. But will you ask, will you call upon me, if desperate need arise?"

He held her hands, clinging. Not clinging.

"Promise me, daiji-aso."

It was the only gift he could bestow. "You have my word."

Ue reached upwards, standing upon tip-toes, and pressed her lips to his forehead. "Farewell, then. "

She released him, and he went, the formal benediction echoing like melancholy reed chimes playing in a bodiless wind. May the Force be with you.

He lengthened his stride to catch up with Qui-Gon, blind to the squalor and noise of the port, and was swallowed into the ship's hull.

The last she saw of him was a dark hood pulled hastily forward, concealing his face.


There was an observation lounge on the forward passenger deck; Qui-GOn found his young companion stationed at before the panoramic viewport, though the ship had jumped into hyperspace twenty minutes previously, the glorious star-scape melted into myriad striations of light, a pageantry with no beginning and no end, nor any distinct shape or form.

He sidled up to the rail and gently tugged the voluminous cowl down, his hand dropping onto Obi-Wan's forearm. "The Council will want our report immediately upon arrival; you should perhaps rest now while there is time."

A wry smile, dredged up as a special courtesy for him. "I can't sleep in hyperspace."

"Nonsense. I've seen it happen, Obi-Wan."

Blue eyes shifted sideways; the weird sworls of hyperspace glinted dully in their glossy depths. "It was strange to be there… and yet now, it is strange to be gone. Why is that?"

The Jedi master exhaled slowly. "The past indwells the present moment. It is perhaps disorienting to shift focus between these two planes – but they are ultimately one reality, not two."

Obi-Wan frowned, still aching from a loss sustained twenty years earlier, an infant's scream of parting wafting up form murkiest depths into the Force's bright presence, a thing long held captive and fettered now stumbling into the open, shaky and hoarse, weakened by its long exile but never extinguished. It rose and hung unvoiced in the void, and was at last received by the plenitude that bound all things together, however disparate they might be, and was heard.

It was done, again and at last: a sundering, a birth, a labor consummated.

The young Jedi leaned heavily upon the rail, head bowed, eyes squeezed shut. "…Master."

Qui-Gon's arm encircled his shoulders, pulled him close. And there they stood, while the blearing stars spun out from infinity into slowly unraveling infinity, and the Force shone perpetually upon a field ablaze with white flowers, their hearts raised in adoration.