There is no emotion. There is peace.

There is no ignorance. There is knowledge.

There is no passion. There is serenity.

There is no chaos. There is harmony.

There is no death. There is the Force.

Deep in the easy, comforting embrace of mediation, I dwelled on the Jedi Code. As my eyes were closed, I saw nothing. In truth, however, I saw everything. Peaceful times of the past, the pains of the present, and gossamer glimpses of an unguessable future. All the time, I asked the Force for guidance, for wisdom, and for advice.

What should I do? How should I respond to this? What is your will? Jedi, always, followed the will of the Force. As the last Jedi, I needed to uphold the tradition. And so even though I thought Leia's hopes for re-founding the rebellion and destroying the Death Star to be folly, I also bore the knowledge and the weight of Yoda and Obi-Wan's last requests to me: Carry on the legacy.

Carrying on the legacy meant following the will of the Force—if I could divine it on this matter. However, all that really rose up after the hours of meditation was an upsurge of memories of the past…

Today was long, stifling, and boring as usual. I don't even know why Uncle Owen makes me stay here. I'm sixteen! Of age for the Academy now! I could leave—become a pilot—show Biggs—

But I don't really want to show him anything, or show him up. I just want to get off this rock. And maybe, someday, when I'm as good a pilot as him, he won't see me as some little kid and push me away again…

Then, everything changes. The girl who comes to the door with the scruffy-looking brown-haired man is the most beautiful I've ever seen. But tragedy and grief haunt her brown eyes. She murmurs something to Owen and Beru, who both straighten up; Beru grows tearful. Then, the girl comes to me.

Mouth open, I can only stare as she says,

"Hello, Luke. My name is Leia O-Organa." She stutters on the last name, pain ebbing off of her. "I'm your sister."

"Uhm… what?"

So, apparently my entire life has been a lie? Days after meeting Leia, I learn the fullness of truth. My father wasn't, as Uncle Owen told me (lied to me) a navigator on a spice freighter. No. He was a Jedi knight! So was crazy old Ben, who actually happens to be some kind of war hero. And Leia… who is a queen… is my sister! All of it makes no sense, no sense at all. And yet, I feel the truth of it all…

Beru is no comfort. Mostly, she just cries a lot. Owen says nothing. I overheard Ben—Obi-Wan—talking to them about taking me away. This came with hushed whispers of someone called "Bail" and "Breha" and "accelerate their training" whatever that means. Owen yelled back, something about how he wasn't going to take me. Beru cried some more.

Looks like I might get away after all, though I suddenly don't want to…

"You alright, kid?"

I whip around from my brooding at the edge of the farm to find the scruffy-looking brown-haired man. I glare at him through my tears. "Fine," I retort.

"Scared, eh?"

"No."

"You know, it's alright. Leia can be… a little intense when you first meet her. But she's been through the wringer. Karking strong to get through it all. Don't—ah—don't tell her I said that."

My lips twitch. He likes her. Well, at least I've got something over him now. "Your secret's safe with me." And I don't know how, but at some point while talking to Han—as I learn his name is—I feel a bit better.

"Time to train you, it is, young Queen Leia," intones Yoda, the little green alien who is actually a Jedi Grand Master. Why am I not surprised? Nothing is what I thought; nothing is what it all seemed.

Leia's brown eyes bulge with shock. Obi-Wan ventures, "No, Yoda. You don't understand—"

"I'm not going to be a Jedi," Leia cuts him off, insistent. "I could hardly get away and have the time. And besides—Luke was the one—"

"Yes," I speak up, flushed, confused. I look at Obi-Wan, frowning. "I want to be a Jedi like my father!"

Yoda huffs, a gruff and discouraging sound. Clearly, he doesn't approve of me. But—why? What did I do? What does Leia have that I don't? Why would Yoda wish to train her over me? Ben said—he said that—

What am I… just the substitute in all of this?

Leia looks at me, sudden virulence in her voice. "Don't… mention that man, Luke. My father was Bail Organa of Alderaan, and he got his head cut off right in front of me."

Shame and guilt fill me. I try to find a response to that, more flushed than ever.

"Yoda," Obi-Wan interjects, "I explained this to you. It's Luke who wants to be the Jedi—Luke who we'll train—"

"Hmph. Luke. This one… for a long time have I watched. Reckless. Brash. Temperamental. Always looking to the future, to the horizon, never to the moment. She should be trained, not him."

No, I realize. I'm not the substitute. I'm nothing short of chopped liver in all of this.

OOO

At the assigned meeting place to pick up the Guests, as we called them in the White Suns, I waited. Sand swirled around my feet. The sun scorched. The day carried on as usually as it ever had.

My hat was tipped low over my face, but didn't obscure my vision. Besides, it was hardly a surprising occurrence; many out here often hid their faces, since Tatooine generally attracted those of the outlaw and criminal variety. Like me.

Give me answers, please, I mentally pled with the Force as my gaze roved over the ghost-town that was Anchorhead in these early-morning hours. I stayed in the moment, focused my senses, and tuned into the now. Show me your will. I know… I know I am not the greatest Jedi… I know Leia would have been better. But I do want to follow your will.

Show me what that will is… and it will be done. I promise.

Because there was no emotion; there was peace. There was no ignorance; there was knowledge. There was no passion; there was serenity. There was no chaos; there was harmony. There was no death; there was the Force.

And I was a Jedi. Even if I was the last, my mission was unchanged. I must resist the darkness with every breath, and follow the will of the Force I served. Forever.

OOO

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