VII
I moved silently through the corridors, still trying to keep myself an inert presence in the Force, at least insofar as I was able. Vader would find me eventually, of that I had no doubt, but I needed it to be later rather than sooner. I had to get that tractor beam out of commission first. Luke's escape—with the droids, of course—was paramount. And the Force help us all if Vader got close enough to those droids to recognize them!
I crept among the shadows as I went, but fortunately passing troops were few and far between. Apparently they were still operating under the assumption that the captured ship had been empty and therefore posed no threat.
I passed level after level, each exactly like the last, until I finally reached a bridge that extended out over an endless abyss. It reminded me of the power station in Theed. Why are power stations always located over bottomless pits? I wondered with annoyance. Connected to that bridge was one of the terminals where the tractor beam was coupled to the main reactor.
I slipped onto the narrow connecting walkway that circled around the terminal, hugging the terminal as I went. Something in the Force told me to move quickly—not easy, given the narrowness of the walk and the impossible height of the drop below. No sooner had I rounded the back side of the terminal, out of sight from the main bridge and several others like it above and below, a squad of stormtroopers marched past on a bridge above. Security seemed to have increased all of the sudden. Had the missing troops and technicians been found sooner than expected? Or had my traveling companions done something rash? Given Luke's impatience and Solo's bravado, I wouldn't be surprised if it were the latter. What have you boys gotten yourselves into? I wondered. But there was nothing I could do about that now; ignoring the troops above me, I set about my task.
The terminal was exactly like the one I remembered on Escarte, a fairly standard power coupling with several access panels. The first controlled the power to the terminal itself, which I shut down. However, if the power stayed off for too long, it would be noticed, so I had to get to the specific control for the tractor beam coupling, located in a separate panel. Sliding around the terminal, I found the panel and carefully deactivated the tractor beam, then moved back to the first panel and pulled the power level back up, thus turning the terminal's power back on. When the power was up but the tractor beam display stayed off, I sucked in a breath of relief. The beam was disabled; Luke and the others would be able to leave.
Sighing in satisfaction, I began to move back toward the main bridge when a guard detail appeared. Pulling back quickly, I listened as one of them asked for regular reports. The bulk of the detail then moved off, leaving behind two guards.
"Do you know what's going on?" one asked his comrade.
"Maybe it's another drill," the second suggested, sounding bored.
Doubtful, that. Again I wondered what Luke and his companions were up to.
As the guards continued their discussion, I snuck as far around the terminal as I dared. Using the Force, I directed a small wave of energy out into the main corridor beyond the bridge. It hit the wall with a loud ping.
"What was that?" the first trooper asked, whipping around to look out into the hallway.
The second turned to follow his gaze. "Nah, it's nothing, don't worry about it." They both turned their attention back towards the bridge, but by that time I was out of sight in the opposite direction.
The trip back towards the hanger was much more difficult than the one out here; security had not only increased, it appeared that the whole station had gone on full alert and stormtroopers were everywhere. I tried listening in on some of their conversations to ascertain what had happened, but most of them were more ignorant than I was of the high alert status. Finally, as I stood pressed back into a small alcove waiting for a large squad of troopers to pass, I caught a hint of something about an escaped prisoner.
Escaped prisoner? I thought. Surely there hadn't been enough time for the others to be captured and escape. Maybe this had nothing to do with them after all. But my instincts told me otherwise, and as I made it down one more level I overheard another snippet of a conversation: "Tarkin will have our heads if we don't find her..."
And then I knew. Her. Leia. Of course! She had been captured by Vader over Tatooine and now Vader was here. It stood to reason that she was here too. I felt foolish for not having thought of it sooner and was glad to think that she may have escaped. The question was, how? Or more correctly, with whose help? As if I didn't already know the answer to that one.
The further down toward the hanger I got, the more frantic the pace of the stormtroopers became. "We think they may be splitting up, they may be on levels five and six now," one trooper was saying tersely into his comlink as another squad ran past me. Perhaps they would all manage to make it back to the ship in one piece. Not only that, I myself had made it all the way back to the hanger level. Perhaps I would make it back, too. Perhaps I had been wrong about my destiny here.
But as I slipped out of the shadows and headed down the hall, I knew instantly my optimism was premature. Vader's presence hung around me like a cloud, suddenly much closer. Reflexively I withdrew my lightsaber and held its comforting weight in my hand as I picked up my pace. Almost there, I thought desperately, but was suddenly so cold I drew my hood up over my head as if that alone could shield me from the chill, shield me from him. A futile gesture, of course. I barely went another dozen steps and suddenly there he was, standing in front of me, red lightsaber ignited but held casually down, as if he were just out for a stroll.
After two decades, here I was, face to face—well, face to helmet anyway—with my former apprentice. Anakin Skywalker—Vader, Anakin's dead!—stood before me.
I stopped dead in my tracks and Vader approached me in long, smooth strides. Igniting my lightsaber and gripping it carefully with both my hands, I began walking slowly towards him, meeting him halfway.
"I've been waiting for you, Obi-Wan," he said, his deep, amplified voice almost casual, as if I were merely late for an appointment. "We meet again at last."
He brought up his lightsaber to guard position then, his stance instantly changing from casual to predatory. "The circle is now complete. When I left you, I was but the learner. Now I am the master."
"Only a master of evil, Darth," I replied evenly, mocking his Sith title, hoping that his tendency toward anger would give me an advantage. Of course, anger was my weakness as well, but at this moment I felt completely calm and could feel the Force flowing through me, strong and reassuring, as I accepted the inevitability of this confrontation. With acceptance came peace; the pain of losing Anakin to the dark side felt strangely distant as he stood before me. The hate is all on his side. I am prepared to fight the evil he does. He may kill me one day, but he will never wound me again. Qui-Gon's words, and for the first time they were true for me as well. Then I lunged.
His blade met mine with an electronic sizzle and I reversed my thrust downward, then back up again. He pressed me back, and I retreated slightly, twirling my blade in my hands to get a better grip. With a quick spin on my heel, I struck again, but he blocked me at every pass until once more he pressed forward, pushing me back. It was Mustafar all over again, only replayed in slow motion, almost casually, as if we were merely doing a walk-through rehearsal of a scene from a holovid. The passion was gone on both sides. Anakin's raw fury, blaming me for Padmé's unwillingness to follow him into the abyss, had cooled and hardened over the years, as if it had been the lava from Mustafar itself, brought into deep space to freeze into solid rock. My own grief had ebbed as well and Vader's armor kept an emotional barrier between me and the Padawan I had loved. Also, though still both strong with the Force, neither of us were the Jedi we had been. I had lost much to age and grief, he to his mechanical limbs. Nevertheless, he was extremely powerful. He charged at me viciously, his lightsaber hitting the wall in a shower of sparks as I dodged, barely getting out of the way in time. As I circled around him, Vader clearly sensed the decline in my abilities since we had last met.
"Your powers are weak old man," he taunted me.
I only smiled. "You can't win, Darth," I told him confidently, mocking his title again. "If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine." The Sith knew nothing of the Order of the Whills. They knew nothing of true power.
I moved in again, strong with the Force, and this time managed to press him back. It was a small victory, I knew. Clearly Vader was the more powerful of the two of us, and he was merely toying with me, enjoying the game. But as we faced off again, he said to me, "You should not have come back," and I thought I detected a note of regret. Was it possible that Anakin was still in there somewhere after all?
If there had beenany regret, it was short lived and Vader attacked again, his red blade hissing against my blue one. With several quick thrusts, he managed to press his advantage and slowly began backing me down the hall until there was no hall left behind me, only a smaller passageway to my left and an open blast door to my right. Beyond that doorway, the hanger and the Millennium Falcon.
Blast, I'd almost made it, I thought briefly before returning my full attention to Vader. He lunged again and I managed to circle out of his way so that his back was to the wall and I had the entire corridor behind me.
As we battled, we caught the attention of several stormtroopers who had been stationed in the hanger bay, guarding the freighter. They rushed forward to see if they could assist their commander, but Vader waved them off and they simply milled around us just on the other side of blast doors.
It was at that point, as Vader and I faced off one last time, that I felt another presence in the Force, something with just enough warmth and strength to cut through the biting cold of Vader's presence. I turned toward the hanger, half expecting to see Qui-Gon there, telling me to let go. Instead I saw Luke.
He was running toward us, but stopped short as his gaze met mine. He caught his breath, his face a mask of horror.
That's how I looked when I knew Qui-Gon was going to die, I thought suddenly, and my heart began to ache. How could I leave him, this Padawan I'd had for so brief a time? How could I when I knew what it was like to watch your master die? But as I turned my eyes back to Vader, the Force was with me, infusing me with a strength and peace I'd never known before. The choice was simple, really. Vader would not let me go and I could not defeat him. I could delay my destiny, but I could not escape it, and a delay would only give the stormtroopers more time to notice Luke and his companions escaping. Qui-Gon was right, it was time to let go.
I smiled at Vader. Qui-Gon was right about a great many things, I thought, taking great care to shield my mind from his. You are not my legacy. Luke is my legacy and this I do for him, for his victory. I failed you, Anakin, but I will not fail him. Then closing my eyes, I lifted my blade up to my face, leaving myself completely defenseless. Vader did not waste this opportunity and I sensed his attack as he brought his blade about in a swift horizontal arc...
I am surprised by the sameness. So surprised, in fact, that for a moment I think it did not work. Sights and sounds are the same: I see Vader swing his blade, I hear my lightsaber clatter to the floor, and I hear Luke. My heart aches as he screams in anguish for me. But then I see Vader before me, his attention on the floor. Looking down, I watch him as he stomps on my robe, which lies in a puddle at his feet. He is astonished that I am nowhere to be seen. I am astonished! It did work!
But I cannot marvel at this for long, the Force—no longer a separate presence flowing through me but rather something that simply is me—is pulling me elsewhere. I am drawn into the hanger and am filled with terror for my Padawan. His anguished cry has attracted the attention of the stormtroopers and they are firing at him. He is shooting back, but he is in shock, not running for cover, just standing in the middle of the hanger, blasting stormtroopers in rapid succession. He is filled with darkness: loss and anger. His companions—Leia is one of them, I note with satisfaction—are backing him up from the cover of the Millennium Falcon and urging him to flee, but he doesn't listen. Only when Solo shouts for him to blast the door does anything get through his grief-clouded mind and he hits the door controls with a precision that surprises me. The blast doors slam shut, cutting off Vader and half of the stormtroopers, but the danger is still great.
"Run Luke, run!" I cry out.
Finally he stops, as if awakening from a dream, and he sprints toward the Falcon. Bloody Sith, he heard me! I am with him in the Force!
When Luke is aboard, the ship's repulsors fire and she is off like a mynock out of hell.
I want to go with them, with Luke, but it is too soon and my new reality too foreign to me as of yet. But I know they will escape, I know they will get the plans to the Alliance. I will be patient until I can be with him again.
By the time I find Luke again, he is already preparing for war. He is flying an X-Wing against that battle station, the "Death Star" they call it. I cannot yet appear to him, but I know I can make him hear me. I will be here if he needs me. I am his Master and he my Padawan. As he takes off, I tell him: "Luke, the Force will be with you."
He does hear me and is surprised by my presence. Waving me off as if I am a dream, he returns his attention to his fighter and flies with the rest of his squadron into combat.
It is a deadly battle and many Alliance pilots are killed. "Luke, trust your feelings!" I instruct him. He taps his helmet, thinking he his hearing things through his comm unit. He still has much to learn.
Vader has joined the fray. He never could resist a dogfight, starfighter to starfighter. Does he sense he is flying against his son?
The first run on the Death Star fails and the Alliance regroups for another go. Luke is ordered to wait at the edge of the battle as another group goes in. They fall short as well, their targeting computer failing to find its mark.
Now Luke's group is moving in. I know he will fare no better if he relies on the targeting computer. Only guidance from the Force will give him the accuracy he needs. "Use the Force, Luke," I counsel him. He pauses, considering whether I am real or merely his imagination. "Let go, Luke!" I urge, echoing Qui-Gon's words to me.
I have his attention now, and he is considering my words. "Luke, trust me," I implore him, and he does. Leaning to his right he switches off the targeting computer.
His comrades on the ground are shocked but Luke tells them everything is fine. Everything is not fine, however. Vader is on him, senses his strength in the Force. He will have him—
But then Vader is gone, sent spinning out of control into space as the flaming wreckage from one of his wingmen hurtles into him. Wreckage caused by none other than Han Solo and the Millennium Falcon, a late entry into the conflict. I knew that I liked that Corellian, that somewhere in him there was tremendous honor.
Luke is now clear and the Force is flowing through him, guiding his aim. Under its direction he fires, scoring a direct hit. As he and his few surviving comrades flee, the Death Star explodes, ripping through the Force. The death I sense is painful, but it lacks the innocence of Alderaan. Death begets death.
Luke is breathing hard, a litany of thanksgiving tumbling across his lips. "Remember," I tell him, echoing my last words to him when I was still physically with him, "the Force will be with you, always."
I am now more adjusted to my new reality and I can travel with ease. I also can appear in my own physical form, one with the Force and yet distinct. Luke is celebrating his victory with his new friends and does not need me at the moment, so I journey elsewhere, finding a different presence in the Force. Older, well-trained, more focused.
I am in a cramped but cozy hut, not unlike my own home on Tatooine, except for the small size and the fact that it is surrounded by dark swamps. Before me with his back turned, contentedly stirring a pot on the fire, stands a diminutive figure swathed in a rough, beige robe.
"Yoda."
He does not turn and I sense no surprise from him. "Obi-Wan." Not Ben, Obi-Wan. He continues stirring his dinner. At length he says, "A disturbance in the Force I sensed when left this life, you did. A great loss it was." He turns toward me now, his weathered face etched with sadness. But then his face softens. "But a great victory as well."
I nod soberly.
"And the boy, for him a great victory as well, hm?"
"Yes. He is strong in the Force. He has much to learn, but has made a good start."
"Hm," Yoda repeats thoughtfully.
"Shall I bring him to you to complete his training?"
For a long while he doesn't answer, but closes his eyes, looking inward. Finally he says, "What think you?"
Now it is my turn to pause, to look inward. And when I do reply, my answer surprises even me.
"Forgive me, Master," I begin, slipping back into the student role with Yoda out of habit, "but I think the Jedi made many mistakes in those last days. We had become too aloof, too isolated, too removed from those we served. Our fear of attachment was our downfall. We made it easy for Palpatine to stir fear in their hearts because few knew us. If we take Luke now, fresh off this victory, if we isolate him from his peers, then we are repeating that mistake, if not compounding it. He is a hero now, larger than life. Take him away now and he remains that way, something distant and foreign to those fighting the Empire. If, however, he stays and fights along side of them, they will know him and trust him. He will not be an enigma to fear, but a well-loved friend with a special talent. And Luke will understand why he is fighting. He will see the struggle firsthand and it will be his struggle. It is a perspective I think he needs."
"Much danger, there is. Sense him, his father does."
"Yes, and with the notoriety from destroying the Death Star, Vader will learn who he is before long. But that was inevitable. For all his strength in the Force, he has been repeatedly unsuccessful in locating the rebels. I think Luke will be safe with them."
"Ah, but a powerful bond there is between father and son. Help him in locating the rebels, it may."
"Possibly," I concede, "but I will be watching. If and when the danger is too great, I will send him to you."
"Hm." He turns away from me and resumes stirring his dinner. I wait patiently, knowing Yoda will speak only when he is ready. For a long while we are both silent, and when he does speak he does so without turning back toward me.
"The Old Jedi Way, the way that denies all attachment, gone it is. Gone it should have been, perhaps, long before born the Emperor was. Attachments we all had, Obi-Wan. Attachment for the Republic, Master Windu had. Attachment to your padawan, you had. Attachments that to your credit they were. But an attachment I had as well, and denied it at our peril, I did."
"Master?" I ask with curiosity, as it is difficult to imagine Yoda with an attachment of any sort.
"Attachment to the Old Jedi Way, I had. Attachment to a philosophy and not to the people it serves. Blind, it made me. No, no," he says, leaning his spoon against the edge of his pot with a harrumph and turns to face me. "Gone the Old Jedi Way is. With young Skywalker, born the New Jedi Way is. Attachment he needs. Love he needs. The only light strong enough to hold back the darkness, love is."
He turns back to his pot and takes up his spoon again, resuming stirring for a moment before speaking again. "Agree with you, I do. Wait, we shall."
Though he can not see me with his back turned, I bow my head to him, then prepare to leave.
"Obi-Wan," he says suddenly, and I pause. "Come, sit with me while my dinner I prepare."
"I never thought I'd be grateful that I can't eat anymore."
Yoda chuckles and suddenly I feel at ease.
"Much to discuss we have. And an old friend, waiting to see you there is."
Before he finishes the sentence, I am already sensing the new presence in the Force that has joined us. I turn, and Qui-Gon is standing beside me.
He smiles at me, a warm smile of fatherly pride. "Welcome home, Master Jedi."