One week after the events of Episode VII: The Fall of Skywalker, Luke Skywalker accepts the invitation of the Prime Jedi in the hope of securing a powerful ally. . .
"I don't understand it either, Artoo," Luke said as he read the computer's translation of Artoo's string of aggravated, confused beeps and trills. "This is where he told us to go, but. . ."
Artoo beeped in response, curious to hear the part of the sentence that Luke had left hanging. Instead of a response, Luke once again stared into space, in contact with the mysterious energy field that, despite decades of straining to detect, Artoo's sensors had never quite been able to identify. Artoo had spent 25 years watching Luke sink into silent trances, and he had learned to wait patiently until his master emerged from those trances, often with some inexplicable directive. Artoo had also learned to accept the bizarre conclusions that often followed these trances, but even in knowing his master as he did, he still could not compute the function and logic behind following an invisible being's instructions into the dead of space.
Minutes drifted by where Artoo contented himself with running a passive scan on the X-wing's flight systems, which, thanks to his expert care, were in excellent condition and running at optimal performance. As Artoo prepared to segue into a scan on the ship's drive components, Luke emerged from his trance, saying, "How is this possible?"
Artoo ran back through the data gleaned from his scans, finding that the excellent performance of the ship's functioning was not only possible but an obvious consequence of Artoo's maintenance regimen. Artoo trilled confusedly, but Luke did not answer. Instead, he unexpectedly gunned the X-wing forward, which Artoo protested indignantly. Usually, his master had enough respect to allow Artoo to pause routine diagnostics before going into full sublight thrust, and Artoo howled at Luke's increasingly unpredictable behavior.
The ship shot forward, and as Luke navigated the ship onto a new vector, Artoo connected to the ship's nav computer and saw the strange anomaly emerging on a distant parsec. Luke shot forward toward the anomaly at top speed, and his visual scans picked up a rectangular sliver of light floating in the heart of space. While Artoo was not typically given to metaphor, it reminded him of a solitary, illuminated window on a darkened building. Artoo's anxiety, or at least what passed as anxiety produced from his circuitry's awareness of potential catastrophic outcomes, spiked as Luke hurtled toward it. He issued another indignant squawk, which Luke again ignored as the window neared.
Seconds later, the X-wing reached the window, and Artoo's circuits went black.
"Artoo! ARTOO?!" Luke's harried voice called out. The ship rattled, and its exterior glowed orange in friction with the atmosphere. Artoo's systems blinked back into life, slowly – far more slowly than they ought to have. As soon as his systems reached something approximating full functioning, Artoo launched into full scans on the ship, the exterior, and his own internal diagnostics. How had he blacked out like that? It was entirely out of his programming to do so.
But the examination and scans halted instantaneously as Artoo's visual scanner picked up the towering cliff rushing toward them. He screamed a hysterical series of beeps, to which Luke shouted, "The steering failed!" Artoo could see Luke within the cockpit wrestling with the controls unsuccessfully as a wall of granite hurtled toward them.
"Hang on, Artoo!" Luke shouted, and seconds later, Artoo watched the rocky crag hurtling toward his sensors. His last visual scan showed the crag scraping against the top of the cockpit before slamming into his domed head.
The memories flew past with no cadence, no sequence, no logic. A woman's hair, red, shining in the sun; a feeling of longing, sadness, love, and heartbreak as she walked away, leaving him alone on a distant planet; she looked back, her own heart full of pain and sadness, and Luke knew it was his choices, not hers, that had turned her away; his father, outlined in blue light, smiling at him from across a campfire; a gravelly voice saying, "That, is why you fail;" labored, mechanical wheezing as he pulled away the black face mask to reveal the scarred, ruined face of his father; Obi-wan, vanishing; Obi-wan, explaining his lie; Leia besting him in lightsaber combat; Kira and Ben, children playing in the jungle; Ahsoka, ill, smiling weakly before her eyes closed forever; Yoda's body, disappearing; his father, closing his eyes as he breathed his last breath; Uncle Owen's and Aunt Beru's bodies, smoking and blackened.
Master Luke?
Luke opened his eyes, which stung and burned from smoke wafting from an unknown source. He looked around, orienting himself to his surroundings, and recognized the interior of his X-wing. The transparasteel cockpit was shattered, a hole punctured through the front panel surrounded by constellations of cracks. Dirt spilled through the hole, and the acrid scent of burning components invaded his nose and lungs. Pain lanced through his shoulder as he shifted, and he reached up to pull off his helmet. His hands came away from his head bloodied. A surge of adrenaline spurred action, and after unstrapping his restraints, he triggered the cockpit's release. The cockpit shield rose partway, grinding against an obstruction. He pushed against it, bringing the Force to bear on the obstacle, and the cockpit budged, but not before the broken pieces separated further, showering him with bits of transparasteel. Luke pulled himself out his seat, wincing at the pain in his shoulder, and he crawled gingerly over the control panel and peered out.
Peering out from the cockpit, he saw that his X-wing was perched atop a cliff next to a deep ravine. Looking down, he saw a vast, forested valley unfurling toward a distant, twilit horizon. In the heart of the valley, a brilliant light glowed, illuminating the surrounding cliffs with diffuse light. Two moons glowed remotely in the sky, which shimmered in an inky, purple sky.
Rise, Master Luke.
Luke turned, alarmed at the voice. It was not a voice he heard with his ears, but rather felt with his body. It was high, resonant, clear; young, almost child-like, yet suffused with the weight and depth of great age and wisdom. It was familiar, yet in his disorientation, he could not place it. He swiveled his head, seeking to place the source of the voice. He turned to the right and saw a light materializing in the semi-darkness. The light swirled and coalesced, gradually taking the form of a small child, cloaked in white, and radiating a brilliant white light. Luke thought of the ghosts he had known so well, but they all carried a blue aura. This child's aura looked, and perhaps more strikingly, felt different, and he appeared more solid, less transparent, than Yoda or Obi-wan had. The child's features were pure and delicate, his head hairless, and his eyes a piercing blue. The eyes burned with a feverish intensity that Luke had rarely encountered in other beings. The hateful gaze of the Emperor came to mind, but Luke's sense of this child was of the purest light; clear, true, and eternal.
Luke looked away from the child and surveyed the state of his ship. The wings had partially shorn away from the fuselage, and smoke billowed from a fire near the engine compartment. Rocks had punctured the hull in several places, and a cursory glance told him that at least two of the engines had suffered catastrophic damage. Debris had scattered beyond the ship, spilling into the precipitous ravine ahead. He climbed past the cockpit and looked into the astromech socket and saw the cylindrical torso of R2-D2, decapitated and sparking. The domed head was nowhere to be seen.
The strength in Luke's legs gave way, and he collapsed to the ground beside his friend. The droid and the X-wing had been with him since he had left Tatooine. Together, they had destroyed the Death Star, traveled to Dagobah, found countless Jedi, and explored nearly every corner of the known galaxy. Emotion welled in him at the loss of so much shared history, and tears began to stream down his face.
"It is curious to see such attachment in a Jedi," the child's voice spoke from behind Luke. Luke was still too lost in grief as the child spoke, and although he heard the words, he did not respond. The Child added, "Curious – and dangerous."
The last comment penetrated Luke's grief, and its ramifications quelled his tears. His breathing steadied as he mastered his emotion, embarrassed at the being's judgment. Feeling the urge to justify his emotions, he said, "The ship and the droid have been with me since I took my first steps. How can I not feel grief?"
"Attachment leads to fear and suffering," the Prime Jedi admonished.
Luke nodded, unsure how to respond to the old words. Despite his grief and the precariousness of his situation, his mind drifted back to the debates among himself and the Departed Masters that raged deep into the night on the nature of attachment. Yoda in particular had adhered to the Jedi Code of old, citing the dangers of attachment to thoughts, feelings, and possessions, while preaching the Jedi virtue of non-attachment. Luke had argued that, had he not acted on his attachments, Anakin would not have turned back to the light, and much would have been lost. Anakin, to the surprise of Obi-wan, Ahsoka, and Yoda alike, took a more nuanced approach saying that his attachments led to both his fall and his salvation. Leia, still nursing Ben and caring for Kira, took the most controversial stance of all, saying that there was another way to look at attachment; without security in our attachments to others, the pull to the dark side strengthens. The older Jedi had objected, but Leia pointed to the dramatic shift in Kira, who had gone from nearly feral in her behavior to as well adjusted as anybody could have hoped after several years of nurturing, healing, and love. The debate around Leia's stance had been fierce, but in the end, Leia won Luke to her side. As he recalled the love in his relationship with his aunt and uncle, as well as his fierce desire to save his father, his decision was made and the path was set.
He had known the risks, but the old debates seemed less important than ever as he felt the surge in grief and pain toward Artoo and his ship. Without guidance, nurture, and support, the path would be narrower than renouncing attachment altogether. Yet, as he considered his successes with Kira and a dozen other Jedi using this new stance, he felt vindicated in his choices, even in the face of the child's judgment.
Luke snapped out of his reminiscence and, remembering why he had come to this planet in the first place, asked, "Are you the Prime Jedi?"
The being nodded, expressionless and without warmth.
Luke felt a twinge of relief knowing that, at the very least, he had found what he was seeking. How he would get off the planet was another matter, but shelving the concern as he turned to the matter at hand, he replied, "To say that attachment leads to the dark side is to speak in absolutes."
"Your liberties with the Jedi Code have been reckless – and ill-advised," the Prime Jedi admonished.
Something in the Prime Jedi's admonishment aroused Luke's defensiveness, and pulling himself to his feet, he turned to the mysterious being. The child stood still and unmoved, his posture reflecting the immutability of his belief, and Luke felt a twinge of irritation.
Before Luke could speak, the Prime Jedi asserted, "You consider your defense of your liberties with the Code, and you feel anger toward my words. Again, attachment clouds your judgment."
"That's why friends are so important," Luke retorted, feeling more irritation. "Guidance, support, trust, and safety protect against the dark side."
"Many others have thought as you did. They, like you, also failed. The Code exists because absolute virtue, being infallible, is the only guide a Jedi can truly trust," the Prime Jedi stated in a cold, imperious tone. Before Luke could respond, he added, "Clearly, you have much to learn."
Luke, growing impatient with the lecture on a matter about which he had long made up his mind, sought to change the subject, saying, "I came to you because I need your help."
"I cannot fix your ship," the Prime Jedi said, although Luke had the fleeting impression that the being was being obtuse.
"That's another matter," Luke said. "We believe that a darkness is rising, and we need your help to stop it. The danger is greater than we imagined."
"I am aware of this danger, and it is the very reason why I have called you here," the Prime Jedi answered, his imperious bearing shifting into something more subtle.
Luke felt excitement rising. He was still concerned for his ship, but if the Prime Jedi had called him, he could just as easily call to Leia, who could bring them both away from the planet.
"Your thoughts betray you, Master Skywalker," said the child. "I have no intention of leaving this place, and soon, in your heart, you will understand that the greatest protection you can offer to the galaxy, to your friends, is to remain here to face the destiny that awaits."
"Destiny?" Luke asked, confused and apprehensive.
"Yes," the Prime Jedi replied placidly. "Surely, you've considered it. Your father, born from the Force. You, who resisted the temptation of the dark side and thus righted many wrongs. Your sister, a beacon of hope for the galaxy." The Prime Jedi paused, and Luke had a sense of his respect. "Greatness lies in the Skywalker line; greatness far beyond the transitory concerns of the galaxy. Of more importance they are than your failures with the Jedi Order."
Luke felt a flush of shame at the mention of his failures, the thought of which he had been keeping at bay. Action had trumped the need for reflection, and Luke believes his failures would only remain so if he failed to act. Or, so he thought. The Prime Jedi's comment left him uncertain and insecure in his desire to act. Recovering from the surge of shame, Luke implored, "I didn't come here to find a grand destiny. I came here to ask for your help. If you know of the darkness, surely you must see the danger approaching."
"I do," the Prime Jedi agreed, adding, "More clearly than you, whose vision is clouded by attachment, can possibly know. The darkness has gathered for a hundred years, and your Jedi Order was the last spark of the setting sun in the era of the Jedi. The long night begins, and it is up to us to ensure that that long night does not become eternal."
"The long night?" Luke asked, perplexed.
"Has Master Yoda not told you?" the Prime Jedi asked sympathetically.
Luke felt annoyed by the sympathy, which seemed to verge toward pity, and he asked, "Tell me what?"
"Like the tides of an ocean, or the rise and fall of the sun, the light and dark ebb and flow, always in rhythm with the galaxy, unfailing, and unceasing since the dawn of time. The light has ebbed for some time now, culminating in the rise of the Sith and the fall of the Jedi. Night has come once again, as it always does. The light, if properly protected, will dawn in the future, supplanting the darkness." The Prime Jedi turned away from Luke, looking down into the valley below. Luke followed his gaze and saw light glowing from the center of the valley. As he looked with his eyes, his senses tapped into the depth of the Force radiating from the planet. He had felt it before, but had not truly noticed it until now. The light burned with a piercing intensity that was almost unbearable. The core of the light where the strength of the Force felt deepest lay in the heart of the valley. As Luke surveyed the landscape under the fading sunset, a powerful yearning to be near the light awoke in him.
"Do you know what this place is, Master Skywalker?" the Prime Jedi asked, still gazing at the light.
"No," Luke admitted. The planet was not charted or named, and until crashing into the cliff, Luke had not even been sure there was a planet here.
"This is Erys, the wellspring of the Living Force. From here, the Force spills outward, spreading through the galaxy, nourishing and sustaining life and binding the galaxy together," the Prime Jedi said. He paused, then continued, saying, "Long have the forces of darkness sought it, seeking to destroy the light forever. For just as long has the Prime Jedi protected it."
The Prime Jedi turned back toward Luke, and with tranquil resignation, said, "Few things in this existence are eternal, Master Skywalker. Even I must meet my end." The child continued, saying, "I asked you here to take my place. From here, you can hold the darkness back indefinitely, protecting the light and ensuring that the dawn may rise again."
Luke was dumbstruck at the magnitude of the Prime Jedi's request. He had indeed never heard anything of the sort from Yoda. There had long been myths and legends of a Prime Jedi, one who had attained a mastery so absolute and total that he was infallible, beyond reproach. Some myths even held that he had authored the Jedi Code, although Jedi historians had never been able to verify a singular source; most believed it was a collection of truisms refined into dogma over the eons, not the work of an individual. Yoda had rarely looked backward, and it was rarer still that he spoke of his own history. His focus with Luke had been in guidance and imparting knowledge. There were things that Yoda believed were of the utmost importance, and given that Yoda had never mentioned any grand cycle, Luke felt skepticism growing.
"I won't do anybody any good if I can't stop the darkness now," Luke said, a sense of urgency mounting. "My friends are already in danger, and I must find a way off the planet. Please, we need your help."
The Prime Jedi stared at Luke, and Luke had a palpable sense of the being's disappointment. As the moment passed, the Prime Jedi looked down and said, "Long have I watched you, Master Skywalker. Always impatient; always short-sighted. Ready to sacrifice the greater good for the sake of your attachments."
Luke felt indignation swell. Had not his sacrifices benefited the greater good? What of turning his father back to the light? Stopping the Empire? Resurrecting the Jedi? He had learned and re-learned the lesson of patience over and over again throughout his life, and his attainment of mastery had been a process of abandoning expectation and submitting to a doctrine of detaching from his thoughts and emotions, instead taking mindful action. The lecture struck him as condescending, and Luke felt a desire to leave.
The Prime Jedi, as if reading Luke's thoughts, said, "A great Jedi you have become. Yet it is clear you require more training. Never have I doubted your worth and overall character; it is only your choice to adhere to attachments that I question."
"I think, if you don't mind, that I don't want to hear any more lectures for today. I've been through a lot," Luke said, looking to end the discussion.
"Very well," the Prime Jedi said. "I will make you a deal. The coming darkness will not peak for a while yet. Remain, learn about Erys. Discover the truest nature of the Force. I will not attempt to persuade you. If, after a month, you still wish to leave, I will call to your sister."
Luke rolled his eyes, his old impatience returning. A memory arose in his mind; I don't understand why we can't see Yoda now! He sighed, mastering the emotion.
"I'd rather leave," Luke said. "Even now, my friends might be in danger."
"Indeed," the Prime Jedi said. "However, Erys holds many lessons, some of which may be of great value even if you turn away from your true destiny. For the sake of your friends, I bid you stay."
Luke mulled it over, and looking across the valley once again, he saw the light dancing in the dark of night. The light called to him, beckoning him to explore its power and purity. The Prime Jedi had said the darkness would not peak for a while, and if there were lessons to be learned that might aid in the coming conflict, it might be worth the absence. Leia had not been expecting him back for at least a month, anyway. Luke looked back to the Prime Jedi and nodded.
For the first time, the Prime Jedi smiled. He then added, "The veil of the dark side is great, terrible in its power. I cannot overcome it, but I can open a window wide enough to enable one whom you trust to remain with you, guide you, reason with you."
"Who?" Luke asked, suspicion and curiosity still present in him.
The Prime Jedi closed his eyes, and Luke had a sense of the Force in turmoil, as if a struggle had emerged within the fabric of the Force. He turned to his left, sensing a disturbance. He watched as a blue light flickered into being, and a sudden thrill of hope emerged in him as the light coalesced into the familiar diminutive form a well-known, well-loved friend.
"Master Yoda!" Luke called, excitement surging in him.
"Skywalker," Yoda acknowledged, nodding gravely.
"I can't believe it," Luke said, turning to the Prime Jedi. Luke was surprised to see that the Prime Jedi had vanished. His form gone, the Prime Jedi's voice resonated through Luke's mind, saying, One month, Master Skywalker. Learn all you can of Erys. If you choose to leave, the wisdom it imparts will help you more than I ever could.
