EXCERPTS FROM THE AUDIO JOURNAL OF QUI-GON JINN, JEDI MASTER
Tatooine, Mos Spa, Slave Quarters, 3:4:7
This mission is a constant source of surprises. First, I found my long-lost son, and now I have met Anakin Skywalker, this incredibly Force-sensitive boy that could be the Chosen One described in an ancient Jedi prophecy.
Anakin's skills as a pilot are amazing for one so young, but even more amazing is the goodness of his heart. Not only did he give us shelter during a sandstorm, but he has also decided to give us the money he might make winning tomorrow's podrace, so we will be able to pay for the spare parts we need to repair our ship. This boy is a slave and could use this money to buy his freedom or his mother's, and instead he wishes to help three strangers. I find it very touching and so uncommon; children of his age are usually egotistic and self-centred.
But Anakin is no common boy, that's for sure. I have talked with his mother and asked her about the child's father. She answered there was no father, that she found herself pregnant without knowing how.
Is this possible? Is she telling the truth? Something inside tells me I am right, but I would like to have some more proof.
I took a sample of Anakin's blood and I can't wait to return to the ship to run some tests… I would like to ask Obi-Wan to run them for me, but he would probably wish to know whose blood he is testing and why, and as a Jedi, I am not sure I can trust a Sith with such information. It pains me so much not to be able to trust my son, but if Anakin is really the Chosen One, I cannot risk the Grey Order might take him away.
Nubian Cruiser on route to Coruscant, 3:4:8
I have been meditating for the past two hours, but despite all my dedication, I have not been able to centre and find the peace of mind I crave. But given what has happened today, I dare to say even Master Yoda would find it difficult to concentrate.
My mind keeps on being assaulted by images and thoughts, each of them rivalling with the others in claiming my attention, and this recording is not a normal entry of my journal, but the desperate attempt to put some order to my feelings.
I will relate my disturbing memories in the order they happened, without trying to decide which one is more important.
Everything started this early afternoon, when I was about to get back to Mos Spa to return the eopies Watto had lent me to carry the spare parts we had been able to pay for thanks to Anakin's triumph in this morning's podrace. Even more importantly, I had to go back to fetch Anakin, whose freedom I had secured by winning a bet against Watto.
"Start getting this hyperdrive generator installed," I said to the crew and Obi-Wan as I mounted one of the eopies and pulled the other by the reins. "I am going back. I have some unfinished business."
"Business?" My son echoed, arching one eyebrow.
"I won't be long."
Obi-Wan studied me a moment, then asked "Why do I sense you have picked up another pathetic life form, Master Jinn?"
I frowned, annoyed by his words. Jar-Jar is not pathetic, is just very…clumsy. As for Anakin, the boy had just helped us to find a way to leave the planet. How could Obi-Wan be so unfeeling?
"It is the boy who is responsible for getting those parts," I stressed, my voice betraying my irritation. "I will return shortly, Knight Kenobi. In the meantime, make sure the repairs proceed as quickly as possible."
Obi-Wan's eyes flashed with a hard light and his displeasure washed over me in waves.
"I am not a mechanic. They can mind the repairs by themselves. I am coming with you, I want to give a look at the town."
"But the Queen…"
"Captain Panaka can guard her for the hour or so we are away," and in so speaking, Obi-Wan took the reins of the spare eopie, and jumped on its back without waiting for the beast to kneel.
I tried to protest again, but the look on my son's face made the words die on my lips.
The only thing I could was to keep our absence as brief as possible.
A good intention for sure, but soon ruined by Watto, who refused to hand over to me Anakin and his papers, by claiming our bet had not regarded the boy, but his mother.
"You are mistaken." the Toydarian said, "You won Shmi, not Anakin."
"That's not true. You tossed a coloured cube to decide what slave I would win. Red for Shmi, blue was for Anakin. It turned out blue, so give me the boy."
I waved my hand again, but as it had happened two days before, the Force persuasion did not work.
"I told you I am immune from it," Watto smirked. "Now collect Shmi and leave me alone. You have already cost me too much money."
I began to sweat, wondering what else I could do. There had been no witnesses to our bet, and if there had been, I doubt they would have sided with a stranger. I thought of what I could possibly trade for the boy, but nothing came to my mind.
"Listen Watto," I tried again, conscious of Obi-Wan's mounting impatience even as he stood by my side, his arms folded over his chest, his face emotionless.
"Oh please, don't start another time. If you want the woman, take her. Otherwise-"
Watto never completed the line. His voice died in a strangled gasp as he suddenly raised his hands to his neck.
What's happening? I wondered and then I turned my head to face Obi-Wan, who had just taken a step forward. It took me just a glance to his outstretched arm and closed fist, to his hard expression and focused eyes to understand what was going on.
My son was Force-choking the Toydarian.
After a few seconds, his fist loosened and Watto took a big gulp of air. "Give my partner the boy's papers," Obi-Wan hissed, his arm still stretched out.
The Toydarian shook his head. "No, the boy is too precious and-"
Once again he did not complete the line, and I watched in horrified silence as his eyes bulged and his wings fluttered wildly, until I could not take it any more.
My hand fell heavily on Obi-Wan's arm, disturbing his concentration and breaking his hold over Watto. The small creature fell to the ground, lying on the sand and gasping for air.
"How dare you hit me!" Obi-Wan all but snarled at me, his eyes full of fury, as he shook my hand from his arm.
"You were going to kill him in cold blood!" I hissed, shocked by what I had seen.
"Give me some credit, Jedi. I know exactly how much I can push."
He glared at me, then he went to knelt near the Toydarian, who tried in vain to roll away from him.
"Has your memory returned, little piece of scum?"
Watto nodded frantically, still unable to speak.
"Good. Now give the boy to my partner and do not oblige me to refresh your memory another time."
The Toydarian nodded again, and Obi-Wan moved away, as I knelt and helped Watto to stand up.
Obi-Wan's irritation was almost palpable during our trip to the slave quarters, where Anakin collected his things and said goodbye to his mother, and then back to the ship. He walked near me and the boy, his eyes fixed in front of him, his posture rigid, and he paid no mind to Anakin's attempts to engage him in conversation.
We had almost reached the ship, when suddenly Obi-Wan ignited his yellow lightsabre an instant before the Force shrieked in alarm and a black-clad figure riding a speeder bike stormed on us.
"Drop down!" Obi-Wan shouted, and Anakin and I obeyed, as the speeder flew over our heads. "Get to the ship! Tell them to take off!"
Then before I could say or do anything, he charged against our attacker, pulling him off the bike. I watched almost paralyzed as the dark figure quickly regained his footing and ignited a red, double-bladed lightsabre, using it to deflect my son's blow.
"Get to the ship!" Obi-Wan shouted as he fought and it snapped me out of my trance-like state. I stood up and scooping Anakin in my arms, I ran to the ship, whose ramp was already lowered.
Once inside, I let Anakin go and rushed to the cockpit, instructing the pilots to take off and to fly low over the place where Obi-Wan was still fighting against our mysterious assailant.
Hold on, my son, hold on, I repeated in my mind as the cruiser wheeled smoothly about.
"There," I said, pointing to the two fighting figures. They were surging back and forth across the flats, yellow and red lightsabres flashing with each blow struck and deflected.
As the captain piloted the cruiser toward them, skimming the ground barely higher than a speeder bike, I ran back to the entry hatch, using the manual control to lower the ramp.
Obi-Wan spotted us, understood what we were trying to do and as soon the ship was close enough, he took a Force-enhanced jump and landed on the ramp.
My hands reached out to steady him as the ship accelerated and rose higher. My son scrambled into the interior of the cruiser and collapsed to the ground as I retracted the ramp and sealed the hatch.
"How are you feeling?" I asked, returning to his side and kneeling.
"Like someone who has just fought a Dark Lord," he answered sarcastically, as he rose to his feet and headed toward his quarters.
All the blood left my face upon hearing those last two words.
Dark Lord.
The Jedi were reputed to have destroyed the last of the Dark Lords, the true servants of the Dark Side, a thousand years ago, even before the rift between the Order and the Sith.
In fact, it had been the memory of the Dark Lords' crimes that had pushed the Jedi to react so violently against the "rebellious" knights that would later found the Sith Order.
How could Obi-Wan exclaim with such certainness the Dark Lords had returned?
I followed him to his quarters and stepped inside after him before he was able to close the door.
He gave me an annoyed glance, then moved to his bed and sat down to remove his boots, as if I was not even in the room.
"How could you say it was a Dark Lord?" I asked him without mincing words.
"What else could he be? He was trained to use the Force and his blade was red. Only the Dark Lords use that colour."
Obi-Wan stood up and moved around the room, taking off his robe and folding it across the back of a chair. "I could sense him summoning the Dark Side of the Force as we fought."
I don't know why, but his final line triggered an unexpected reaction in me and I commented, sarcasm dripping, "Yes, of course. I forgot you Sith are much more familiar with the Dark Side than us Jedi."
Obi-Wan whirled around and looked at me, his eyes blazing, as he threw his belt on the bed.
"And what is that supposed to mean?" He hissed.
"That I see little difference between you and the man that attacked us." I said, folding my arms in my robe.
"Ahhh…You are referring to what I did to the Toydarian." Obi-Wan almost smiled and it made me see red.
"How can you smile at something like that? You almost strangled him!"
Obi-Wan's took a step closer and snarled, "Listen to me, Jinn, and listen well. I do not kill in cold blood. I would have stopped before causing any permanent damage." He smirked, "I was just teaching him a lesson about not cheating his costumers."
"It was a despicable action," I insisted, remembering Watto's bulging eyes.
"Oh really? And what about your behaviour with the Gungans? Must I remind you how we obtained the permission and the transport to leave their city?"
"It is not the same. Jedi act for a greater good and-"
"Bulls, Jinn!" He said, taking off his tunic. "You enjoy using your power as much as I do, but at least we Sith have the decency to fully admit it."
I shook my head, stubbornly refusing to let him win this argument. "Jedi do not act like this. It is not our way and you should-"
"I am a Sith, not a Jedi!" Obi-Wan thundered, interrupting me again. "And I am a knight, not one of your padawans! Stop trying to patronize me and order me around. I am not a recalcitrant youth needing to be led back on the 'right' way. I am a Sith and you should keep it in mind."
Silence fell on the room as he ended his tirade and his words sank in.
Of course, he was right.
For the entire mission I had done nothing else but command him, taking charge of the decisions even when it was clear it was impossible to find a diplomatic solution to the crisis. He had obeyed me without discussion — until this afternoon, when I completely overstepped my limits by ordering him to act as a mechanic.
It was not his fault if he had finally exploded, it was mine.
Maybe my intentions have been good, maybe my being in charge of the mission was just an unconscious attempt to keep my son safe, but in the end my attitude caused only irritation and pain, and almost managed to destroy any chances I had to come to forge a lasting relationship with my son.
Almost - because, the Force be blessed, something then happened to completely change the situation.
As I stood there, unable to say anything, Obi-Wan kept on shedding his clothes, until he remained bare-chested. When he turned around to drop his under-tunic on the bed, I noticed his back was covered by many scars that criss-crossed his shoulders and kidney region. They looked like whip or laser marks, as if he had been tortured.
My heart twisted in my chest, as pain, sadness, compassion and anger flooded in me at the same time. Who had dared to do that to my son! And how much he must have suffered!
Almost without noticing I crossed the space separating us and put my hand over Obi-Wan's shoulder, my fingers gently brushing one of the scars.
My son whirled around, surprise clear in his eyes, but did not shake my hand away. I felt his mind probe my thoughts and I lowered my shields, letting him feel my compassion and concern.
The genuine interest he sensed in me seemed to be welcome, for I felt his anger dissolve, replaced by curiosity and perplexity. Why did I feel like this for him?
"Who did this to you?" I asked softly.
"My master," was the equally soft answer.
Breath caught in my throat. "Your...your master?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"To make sure I would never forget the lesson he taught me that day."
"What lesson?" I whispered, my hand still resting on his shoulder.
Obi-Wan smiled weakly, before his expression hardened. "A Sith does not fail his task. A Sith does not bend. A Sith does not beg. A Sith does not surrender."
I swallowed hard, as my arms ached with the desire to pull my son in an embrace, and never let him go.
"How old were you?"
"I was ten."
"Ten?"
"Yes."
I cannot express my shock upon hearing this. A child of ten receiving such a beating...It was – is - unconceivable.
Incredible.
I felt like I was going to be sick as Obi-Wan suddenly dropped his shields and let me see glimpses of his life as Sith trainee.
Long marches under the scorching sun, days spent without food and sometimes without water too, physical punishments, nights spent sleeping naked on the pavement of chilly rooms...
No wonder the Sith are so unbending and so hard with themselves, so determined in reaching their objectives.
I thought of the padawans and initiates in the Temple, brought up with gentle firmness and right examples, their natural good qualities nurtured, their progresses praised. I thought of the great Jedi my son would have made if only he had been allowed to grow up in a place where his inborn compassion, the one I had glimpsed when he had allowed me in his mind, had been appreciated and not considered a fault...
I did not realize my anguish had been pouring out in waves until Obi-Wan took me by my shoulders and looked at me with concerned eyes.
"Master Jinn! Qui-Gon? What is happening? Are you unwell?"
"No, I am not."
"Then what-"
He never completed the line, because I chose that moment to completely lower my shields and let my feelings and my memories wash over him.
Through the veil of the tears I was now shedding I saw my son's face pale and his mouth open in silent stupor as his mind was filled with images and thoughts.
--The day I met Lydah Kenobi on a diplomatic cruiser directed to an Outer Rim planet where we would have to superintend the first free elections ever held there.
--The headlong fall toward Hoth after our ship was damaged by an asteroid field.
--The terrible crash that killed everybody but Lydah and myself.
--The long chilly nights spent inside the almost powerless, broken hull.
--The desperate need to be close, to share body heat, comfort and hope.
--The embraces. The first kiss. The passion.
--The primal need to reaffirm we were alive and ready to fight to survive until someone would come to rescue us.
--The sight of a ship at the horizon. The rescue.
--The promise to keep in contact with each other.
--The message announcing Lydah's pregnancy.
--The wonder and the joy I felt upon discovering I was going to be a father.
--The numbing grief at the news Lydah was dying because of a mysterious massive organ failure.
--The desperate journey to reach her home planet and bring her to Coruscant, to the Jedi Temple and its qualified healers.
--Master Dahar slowly shaking his head after checking Lydah.
--The long hours spent at her side as she laboured.
--The joy and the smile on her too-pale face as she embraced her boy and whispered his name, "Obi-Wan."
--The pain, the guilt and the regret washing over me as Lydah closed her eyes forever.
--The need to think about my son's future.
--The discovery of how strong in the Force Obi-Wan was and the desire to have him trained in the Temple.
--The petition asking for the child's admission as a trainee.
--The Council's refusal.
--The chill in my heart as my son was taken away from me.
--My probation period. My vain researches in the archives to discover where Obi-Wan had been taken.
--The rocks I bought as present for each of his naming days.
--The nights spent awake, looking at the stars, wondering where my son was, if he was all right, if he was happy and loved. . .
I don't know for how long it has gone on, but in the end my hand fell from Obi-Wan's shoulder and I stood there, frozen on the spot, watching him and waiting for his reaction.
His eyes, his beautiful clear eyes were glazed, and he was trembling.
"Obi-Wan?" I said hesitantly, brushing his arm.
The touch startled him, and he blinked several times.
"Are you all right?" I asked gently.
"No…Yes… I don't know." He whispered, then started to back away. "Please… I need to be alone… I need to think."
"As you wish," I murmured, heading toward the door, understanding his need to be alone, but still longing to be able to soothe and comfort him.
And now I am here, prey to my emotions as it had not happened since Xanatos' turn.
I am here, unable to focus, unable to concentrate, unable to meditate-- unable to be a Jedi.
I am just a man, an aging, lonely man hoping I have not just destroyed all my chance to build a relationship with my son.