This story idea proposed and commissioned by my patron Jesus (Not a joke, that is his username)
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars
Resurrection
When one is a Jedi Master, one is used to both encountering and performing miracles involving the Force on a semi-regular basis. But Qui-Gon Jinn had to admit, waking up seemingly alive and well after being run through by a Sith's lightsaber was somewhat outside the norm. Considering that when he woke up not only was he still in his Jedi robes (minus the entry and exit holes) and still carrying everything he had on him when he fell (including the lightsaber that he remembered dropping), he could be forgiven for believing the lightless cave he found himself in to be some sort of Force-induced vision of the afterlife.
In fact, now that he thought about it, dark caves did seem to feature rather prominently in Jedi vision quests. As a result of this confusion, he spent an embarrassingly long time sitting in that sealed cave before he realized that he might not actually be dead.
Qui-Gon wasn't sure how long he'd sat in the dark, meditating on the Force and waiting for the next stage in the vision. It might have been days. Eventually, he ran out of the little emergency water and rations he had been carrying, and he got tired of the unending dark. Once he did turn his mind to seeking a way out instead of simply waiting for the Force to come to him, his senses immediately guided him to the plug sealing the cave, and Master Jinn started to suspect he might have just wasted a whole lot of time.
Forcing the plug out took a bit of doing, but soon he was out into the fresh air. Well, fresher air. As he activated an emergency glow rod, Qui-Gon realized the cave he had been in was one of many. It took him a few minutes to explore some of the others, but the results were clear - against all odds or reason, the Force had seen fit to return him to life in the middle of a cemetery, on what he suspected was a completely different planet. Naboo did not bury people in sealed caves, and his last wishes had included a request for cremation. Even the Gungans were unlikely to be responsible - wherever he was, it was far too dry.
By the time he found his way out of the cemetery, it was late in the evening. He headed towards where he sensed some people, but they took one look at him emerging from the burial grounds and took off running. Qui-Gon couldn't understand what they were saying, but he could feel their fear. Those people must have been soldiers of some sort, because they left behind weapons and shields when they fled. The Jedi frowned as he looked down at the primitive iron shields and spears. A primitive world might explain the fear caused by seeing someone emerge from a place of the dead, but it also meant finding his way off and back to civilization just became exponentially harder. At least the natives were human, so he wouldn't have too much difficulty blending in.
Trusting himself to the force, Qui-Gon Jinn put one foot in front of the other and started walking.
Thanks to the Force, he was able to make himself understood to the locals in spite of not really knowing the language. In just a few days, Qui-Gon had determined that the locals possessed no technology more complex than iron tools and weapons. This was particularly problematic as he himself was not the most mechanically inclined of Jedi. Young Anakin might have improvised something in a matter of hours, but the best idea Qui-Gon could come up with was finding some way to boost the signal from his hand-held communicator and hope a passing spaceship heard him.
Most of the components for this plan came from dismantling his own lightsaber, but sourcing the few bits of refined metal that he needed to complete his task took weeks. In that time, he was both helped and hindered by the reaction of the locals to his presence.
Judging by the fear, awe, and sense of recognition that he seemed to inspire in many of those he spoke to, Qui-Gon began to suspect that a Jedi or some other Force user had been by this planet relatively recently. Certainly, the way they would come to him for healing and advice was reminiscent of how some other less advanced cultures would treat visiting Jedi.
The language barrier remained an issue - whatever language the locals spoke, it was so divergent from Galactic Basic that in spite of his best efforts, even after weeks he was only at the fluency of a child. In order to maintain the dignity of the Order and not sound like a toddler, Qui-Gon relied on his Force presence, body language, and empathy to make himself understood. If it gave him a mysterious and charismatic aura - well, as he'd often tried to explain to his padawan, sometimes diplomacy meant putting on a bit of an act.
All the respect was useful as it made getting the few pieces he need much simpler. But he also ended up developing a bit of a following. In particular and group of young men and one young woman seemed to be peculiarly obsessed with him. The feeling he got from them was somewhat similar to the devotion of a padawan for their Master, only much stronger. They weren't the only ones either, just the most persistent. Who knew that a bit of Force Healing and a few lectures containing generally good life advice could garner this much attention?
Fearing that he may have inadvertently started a cult of some kind, Qui-Gon took to moving around all over the place. By this time his boosted communicator was sending out its distress signal and the Force was reassuring him he was on the right track. Since a spaceship wouldn't care where on the planet he was, he decided to keep walking to avoid his newfound fans.
Unfortunately for him, it seemed gossip of his presence had spread rather quickly, and his own sense of responsibility wouldn't let him turn away those who came to him for help and advice. He did however avoid meeting with whatever passed for the local government - here the Force sent a faint warning that trying to meet with the rulers of this place would cause unnecessary difficulty. Presumably they wouldn't care for an interloper developing his own following among the people.
In this manner, many days passed (a day on this planet, he noted, was very close to Galactic Standard). Qui-Gon would move from one place to the next to avoid those who sought him most avidly, while at the same time helping those who needed it. Finally, forty days after he broke out of the tomb, someone responded to his signal. He did not recognize the polity the ship claimed to hail from, but at least the pilot spoke Galactic Basic.
He made arrangements to meet the ship at a small village on the eastern slope of a hill, near one of the largest settlements in the region. By the time the ship arrived, his presence had once more drawn a following. As a result, he had to deal with the sight of them bowing and scraping and praying to their gods as the transport came into view.
Feeling a bit guilty for their fear, he exuded a calming aura, even as he did his best to explain to them that the time had come for him to leave. The resulting outpouring of sadness was flattering, but Qui-Gon was swift in making his farewells. There was reason for urgency. The few words he'd shared with the ship's captain had told him a great deal of time had passed since his death. He needed to see what had become of the Galaxy at large, and seek out whatever purpose the Force had for bringing him back to the land of the living.
As the transport took him away from this primitive but pleasant world, Qui-Gon smiled indulgently at the people scattering away. He wondered if the sight of a flying vessel might lead to some odd beliefs or superstitions. From what he'd been able to tell, the local culture had two primary belief systems, one monotheistic and one polytheistic, and the interactions between the two had certainly led to some interesting effects on individual faith.
As the world receded, he realized there was one last little puzzle that he still hadn't managed to figure out. As he slowly grew more fluent in the language, he'd realized that the locals had been largely ignoring him when he identified himself either by his name or by his title of Jedi Master. Instead, they seemed to have almost immediately settled on their own identifier for him, and one by which they persisted in calling him right up to the end. Qui-Gon Jinn just knew he'd spend forever wondering what sort of title was Yeshua et Nazaret.
