Qui-Gon should have been his master. Seventeen years after his fall, and I'm still willing to blame someone else. But it is true, on some level anyway. He was too alien to me. We were brothers, almost. We fought for each other. We would have died for each other. But he was still unreadable. I could see his exterior, even understand his surface thoughts, but he hid his secrets deeply. I should have seen, I should have known, I should have felt. I was his brother.
Seventeen years, and I'm still blaming myself. I wish there was a way to know if I could have prevented it, if I could have changed him. I know it is better that I don't know. But I wish I did. I could have stopped him, I'm sure. But I didn't know how. I could sense him drifting. But I never thought… I mean, how could it come to this? How could everything we went through mean so little to him? Was our relationship nothing? Were we… Did… What could I have done?
I should have finished it then, on Mustufar. I could have ended it on that lava world, but I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to. Death is one thing I've never reveled in. I've never felt the joy of the hunt completed, or felt anything but remorse for killing the enemy. It's a dark task, and one that I avoid whenever possible. The one time I ever felt whole after killing someone was the Sith, the tattooed devil from Zabrak. The one who killed my master, and crashed in my entire world.
When I looked in Anakin's changed face, I think my heart died. Maul may have killed my master, but Anakin killed me. Somehow I had loved, and I understand—now—why I never should have.
I am not Qui-Gon. We never saw eye to eye, even when I was young. I respected him. I admired him. I tried to emulate him, but I couldn't. I wasn't him. I don't have his total disregard for rules and regulations. I don't have his empathy. I think he would have left the Jedi Order after me, I honestly do. But he had committed, and I needed training. No one would take on a half-grown Padawan, and I would be moister farming on some backwater planet before a standard month was out. He knew that. Not that he disliked me, or wanted to be rid of me. But he almost didn't accept me. I had to prove myself first. I've always had to prove myself
The Jedi Order has always been my life. I was always afraid that some day I would be without it. And I knew that without it, I would be lost. I knew I would end up alone. I always had to force the fear away. There is no fear for a Jedi. There is no fear for a Jedi.
And now something tells me that he's ready. Luke. My Padawan's son. My brother's son. My Anakin's son.
And now I am afraid. There is no one here to sense it, to tell me to put it away. This fear, it courses through my body. What if he is just like his father? What if he can't be stopped either? What if it really was my fault? What if it is supposed to be Qui-Gon again? I can feel the fear, like the roar of a krayt dragon. It swells inside of me, blinding my eyes to a new hope.
There is hope here; I know it even if I can't see it. I know that this one, this child, this half-man holds the destiny of the galaxy. But so did his father. His father was the chosen one. His father was the chosen one. Not him. Not Luke.
Why were we so solid? Why couldn't we see beyond? Why does the darkness block the stars?
Our mistakes are there for us to learn from. That is the first thing Qui-Gon taught me. I hope he was right.
I hope I have learned.