By

GM

After JWB -- Always

before JWB -- The Last Warrior Path

PG for intensity

The Canon according to Lucas -- based on the universe provided in the movie Star Wars: The Phantom Menace. All characters copyrights and legal details belong to George Lucas -- the highest Master Jedi of all.

email: [email protected]

. . . every saga has a beginning . . .

Secrets

The Path of Bonding

Connecting

Sanctuary

The Heart of Existence

Edges of Darkness

The Sorcerer and the Apprentice

Shadow on the Warrior Path

Bridge Over Troubled Water

Always

The Last Hope

The End of the Warrior Path

Each breath was a scrape of torture, each movement an exercise in agony. Sliding along the jagged, serrated lava path, Obi-Wan Kenobi paused to still his ragged, sulfur-drenched breathing, to focus his Force senses toward his surroundings more than his internal injuries. The heavy vaporous atmosphere of the planet obscured normal sight and his sensitivity was the only forewarning left him.

With his left elbow he inched his way along the craggy foot trail spiraling the ancient volcano. His right hand held his lightsabre. Barely. Gashes striped his right arm and shoulder, cutting across his chest and mid-section. Most of the wounds were superficial -- burns and scrapes; some were deep -- internal bleeding. All were searingly painful, inflicted by deadly strokes from a powerful lightsabre blade.

Leaning his head against a crusty, sharp ledge of pumice, he closed his eyes and evened his breath. He was so close to death he could feel the cold seeping into his body, writhing around the wounds that would weaken him until there was nothing left of his strength. Then his Life Force would thin out and leave his body, to exist in the Living Force. A place of no pain. A place where he would be with his greatest friend. Blood trickled from a corner of his mouth as he smiled. He had waited a long time for this moment. It was almost upon him. Not that he had ever longed for death -- given up. He had fought the good fight to the end. Life now was misery and he would gladly relinquish it to walk the Warrior Path of eternity with his Master.

There had been moments in the last decade when he had seen his beloved Master, heard the deep, mellow voice in his mind. Qui-Gon would ever be his Master no matter what their roles in the universe. In quiet moments, in times of despair and pain, in pleasant reflection, in tragedy -- Qui-Gon had ever been close in his heart.

Sometimes in dreams his Master spoke with him guided him and then disintegrated with the morning light. The warmth in his heart always remained. Few times over the years had that sentimental radiance ever left him. When it had, it had been times when he pushed away the love and Light, it had never been a desertion from the other side. Always from his inadequacies, his failures. The visitations decreased, then stopped after Anakin's fall. Obi-Wan knew he was no longer worthy to receive the interviews with his Master.

The Warrior Bond had kept them connected for a long time, sustaining Kenobi in the difficult years as a new Knight turned Master. Hadn't the old legends promised the Warrior Bond to be a source of strength in this life and beyond death? They had, tragically, tested the theory and proved it to be true.

In the terrible years since the Naboo war, the desolate years that Obi-Wan had survived, Qui-Gon had still been with him, as promised -- always. The Bond with Jinn still saved his life even when Qui-Gon was not alive. Now the Dark Side had won, eclipsing the Republic, the Jedi, and the Light. Sometimes Kenobi wondered why he had been spared for so long, but that didn't matter any more. He was leaving the pain behind. Perhaps even before Anakin hunted him down again, he would join his Master within the Force.

Since Qui-Gon's death, Kenobi had struggled to emulate his Master, to be everything that would make Jinn proud. Now, filled with desperation and grief, disconsolate over the mistakes he had made, he nearly giggled and cried in hysterical realization of how closely he had followed his Master. A champion of the Light, he had led an apprentice down to the Dark Side just as Qui-Gon had.

Now, in his moment of greatest despair, Qui-Gon would come for him. Then the pain would be at an end. Once more he would know peace and happiness.

Automatically his eyes snapped open, although sometimes that meant a disappearance of his apparition. Not this time. There was the Master, shimmering like a glittering light. Jinn stepped close -- preserved forever as the Master he had known. Obi-Wan wondered what he looked like to his Master. Like the young, eager youth that had fought beside him on Naboo? The foolish, slow failure who had allowed the Sith monster Darth Maul (the dreaded assassin's name he had found out later) to murder his Master and father? Was he the Padawan turned Knight/Master, entrusted to care for Jinn's prodigy? Or the worn, disillusioned, dispossessed vagabond crawling for mercy from pain and despair?

Kenobi struggled to sit up, to look presentable to his Master. It was a silly, Human affectation, but logic had no place in the reunion. His ghostly Master had come for him. Qui-Gon would see, but not mind the blood, the torn clothing, the cynicism and agony that had aged him, worn him into defeat.

"Master." It was closer to a sob than a whisper. The recent pain and misery welled up inside and spilled out in the plea, the love that begged for comfort and release. "Master. I have missed you."

Qui-Gon knelt beside his former apprentice. The image was intangible, but the eyes still glistened with unfathomable blue depths. He reached out a hand as if to touch his student and Obi-Wan shakily raised his left hand. It tingled when it touched the shimmery image.

"You have come for me."

The well known, compassionate face turned mournful. "Obi-Wan."

It was like spiritual music to his heart to hear his Master's smooth, gentle voice again. A brush of tender longing and poignant sweetness to his ears. Always before their communications had been silent, materializing only in his thoughts. The wisp of his name filled him with joy. His heart had broken from tragedy and hurt, but filling those pain-opened cracks was the love that was offered him now.

"Master Qui-Gon." It healed just to say the name aloud. "I am ready."

Jinn reached out to touch his face. There was a tingle of warmth on his skin, and then the spirit drew back. "I am sorry, I can not take you, Obi-Wan. It is not your time."

A sputtered laugh and cry choked his throat. Blood spit from his lips and he didn't bother to wipe away the red drizzle from his face. "I'm dying."

"It is not your time. Obi-Wan, I've come to assure you, strengthen you. There is much for you to accomplish yet in this life." Dazed, the younger Human shook his head. Qui-Gon's reply was tenderness itself. "When you became a Jedi you chose to take a road that was narrow and strait. It was the road you were meant to travel in life." He smiled with fondness that deepened the blue in his sparkling eyes. "You were pure of heart and followed the Force. I am happy to say I was there on the same path. For a time we were able to travel together our Warrior Path -- connected through our Bond. They were the best years of my life."

"Mine, too."

Warm moisture on his face came from his eyes, tears of longing and relief, of joy and release. His Padawan years had been the best of times. Until the loss of his closest friend, the pain that had nearly crushed him. Although he would never admit it to the lingering spirit of Jinn, the final moments of his Master's life had damaged Obi-Wan forever. The death -- yes, because of his failure to be with Jinn in the fight -- the death was a fatal wound to Jinn's body and a mortal strike to Kenobi's soul. And the knife twisting in his heart for all these years -- Qui-Gon's dying words had been for Anakin, for the boy, and never a whisper of hope or guidance or even comfort for the decimated Padawan. The Bond had failed in those dying moments, or perhaps it had been Kenobi who, through his inadequacy, could not received Qui-Gon's silent Bond messages. Perhaps Qui-Gon had been too weak to even use the Bond -- his life had been fading so, so fast. The Warrior Bond was supposed to be stronger in times of dire, extreme emotional need, they had seen that. A million times he had replayed the tragic scene in his mind, agonizing over why he could not connect with his Master in those precious, final moments. With a shuddering sigh he fought back the old misery. He was trying to blame everything and everyone -- the Warrior Bond, the Force, Darth MAul, even Qui-Gon for those long ago inadequacies -- when he had been the one to dishonor them all.

Since Qui-Gon's death, through their Warrior Bond they had talked, but Obi-Wan's scars had never healed; from the death he felt responsible for, from the parting that held no personal closure. Jinn's absent-mindedness was so typical it might have been laughable had it not been so tragic. So like the Master to focus on the Cause, on the mission, on the big picture. So like the Padawan to center on the fanciful, the sentimental. Since the battle for Naboo Kenobi's life had not been empty -- it had been filled with activity; training Anakin, war, betrayal, lost love. Looking back, Obi-Wan decided his life had been filled with motion, but vacuous of meaning. That element had ended in the dark depths of Naboo. And for all these years that hurt, guilt, even anger had never left his soul.

With a stab of panic Obi-Wan was jolted at the impact of what he believed Qui-Gon was getting at. How could someone so damaged join the purity and joy of Jinn's Living Force? His moral frailties were keeping him away from his Master. The old, wretched emotions were holding him back from walking the path again with Qui-Gon.

"I long to join you again, Master." The beloved face was so merciful and kind, it managed to drive away some of the anguish clutching his heart. "I pray your forgiveness. It was my fault -- my failure on Naboo. I should have saved you. And when you were focused on your goal, helping the chosen one, I resented --" He choked, then coughed out the emotional bile, the physical blood. Every time he thought of those last moments together he lived anew the anguish. "I trained the boy because of my vow to you. Is it my fault he turned? I was not focused enough? Not pure enough?" None of this was making sense anymore. All he could feel was the pain of the past, the betrayals -- Qui-Gon's, his, Anakins . . . .

"Obi-Wan."

The command, familiar in it's authority, affection and understanding -- all rolled into one -- startled him from the dazed hurt. The response was comforting and instinctive. "Yes, Master."

Jinn tilted his head in an old, familiar gesture of patience and guidance. "Now the Force has asked you to walk a more difficult path. Your duty is not yet finished. There is still a mission you must fulfill. Always you were concerned about destiny. Now you are the last hope of the future, my son."

Tremors shook Kenobi's body and he breathed in a deep, raspy breath. Fear hovered close as a shadow. So many times he struggled to keep it at bay, to stave off the terror of the Dark lurking to smother him. The icy fingers of dread tingled now at his soul. He was afraid of what the Force, what his Master would have him do now.

Words could hardly describe the single-handed disaster he had instigated. Dereliction to save Qui-Gon from Darth Maul. His weakness turned Qui-Gon's triumph -- of finding the chosen one -- into catastrophe. In the beginning he had resented Anakin. When he promised to train the boy he had tried -- sincerely struggled -- to be fair and honest and a friend to Anakin. Out of duty. Was there ever any love there? Deep inside, the boy must have always resented their rough introduction and forced partnership. No question between them, always, was the spectre of Qui-Gon's death -- what might have been if Jinn had lived. Perhaps Anakin persisted in blaming Kenobi for that, and rightfully so because Obi-Wan blamed himself for that tragic murder. So instead of guiding the young Force initiate into the Light, Obi-Wan had allowed Anakin to slip into the hopeless abyss of the Dark Side. When Obi-Wan was a youth, during their years as Master and Padawan, sorcerer and apprentice, Kenobi most dreaded any inadequacy, and shortcomings in accomplishing what Jinn expected. How ironic he had destroyed Jinn's legacy through failure.

Attempting to speak, faltering, he bit his lip and reached out through his mind. 'A last hope? Me?"

No. There is none so flawed, Master, can't you see that?' The sobs threatened to spill out of his strained voice. 'I have led Anakin to this. The Jedi purge, the destruction of the Republic. I have failed. There is no hope . . . .'

Qui-Gon's voice dropped to a near whisper in his mind, the tremors of compassion and love heard as well as felt. His spirit so much the same as in life. 'Forgive yourself, my Padawan. You must. You have never failed in any duty given you. I am certain you will not fail now, in this last task I give you.'

'Please, let my time here be at an end.' The begging was unbecoming a Jedi, but he was so tired. So ashamed. The confidence of his youth ws only a memory, destroyed in a big part on that tragic day on Naboo. Longing only for the comfort of his Master, he pleaded that his old mentor would take away the pain. Once more the wisest and kindest Jedi he'd ever known could balm his agonized soul and bring him to his rest. 'Take me home, my Master.'

The plaintive grief visible in the wise face pressed on his nerves and inside his mind. 'You can not come home, yet, my brave warrior, Obi-Wan.'

Beyond the comforting solace of Jinn's spirit, there was a deeper, stronger, Darkness approaching. Obi-Wan gulped, fighting the shiver that shook his weak and torn frame. With the eyes of his Master upon him now, he battled the rising dread and conquered it. During his years as an apprentice, his worst moments had been those times when he had failed, even shamed his Master. Those were few instances. This was the worst of them all. His Master was rejecting him, refusing to let him join him and live forever within the Living Force -- the reward for diligent and faithful Jedi. Those who lived in the Light. Obi-Wan's failure had condemned him to remain in this plane, walk a path of loneliness, pain and despondency, separated from his father.

The Darkness seemed to sizzle in the air, a coldness that eclipsed the volcanic heat, chilled from the inside out. As the Obscurity advanced Qui-Gon's image faded. Obviously his Master could not watch the ultimate downfall of his once-apprentice at the hand of the chosen-boy he had given into Obi-Wan's care.

Kenobi had dishonored them all in his carelessness and deficiency. Qui-Gon's legacy -- his dying breath -- had been ruined by the apprentice he trusted with the future. Instead of honoring Jinn in balancing the Force, Obi-Wan's dereliction had destroyed the Jedi Order and the Republic. Few Jedi survived the genocide. Now Kenobi was being given a final mission. It could not qualify as a chance at redemption, how could there be absolution from his crime? There was only a slight measure of justice left available and he would take it -- hopefully with his dying breath.

Momentarily there was an old flicker of the impetuous rage he had known as a youth. An echo of the flash of intense, blind malevolence and revenge when the black and red-faced monster had murdered Qui-Gon. The anger lifted him from the porous rocks and momentarily stiffened his injured limbs.

Then just as he had on that fateful day on Naboo, he felt the Warrior Bond comfort him, warm him inside, push out the rage with the strength of Jinn's sagacious power. The Bond was with him again. Perhaps there was hope, and the thought surged more of the energy into his weary body, the Force flowing inside as he activated his lightsabre and scrambled up to the lip of the volcanic rim.

Anakin was there. Red lightsabre glowing in a taunting reflection of the murderous flame that had cut down Qui-Gon. Looking on the boy who had destroyed everything -- the Order, Obi-Wan, perhaps even Qui-Gon -- all feelings of compassion and regret fled the Jedi's mind. This was not the child who had been entrusted in his care. This was not the brave little boy who had won a pod race for Jinn and the Queen. This was not the young man who had stolen the heart of a young and beautiful Queen and helped win a war. This was the monster who had crushed a royal heart and decimated a government. There was no trace left of the child Obi-Wan had mentored into a man -- a friend.

Closing the door of the past Kenobi floated in the pure Light of the Force. He could feel it pushed into his being by the spirit of Jinn and it filled him with tingling power. It was the only endowment that could defeat the betrayer, the murderer, the chosen one who had chosen the Darkness.

As if a Padawan again, Obi-Wan let Qui-Gon's Force compliment his actions. When Anakin advanced it was as if Qui-Gon was fighting beside him, an invisible apparition supporting him, lending him strength since his own body was so weak. The powerful, young, uninjured Dark Knight pushed and parried, drove and attacked, swinging the sabre in sweeping arcs of death. Each stroke was countered with a block or a twist, sometimes an unexpected somersault or jump exceeding the bounds of the injured Jedi as Obi-Wan's skill clicked into automatic instincts and battled with polished, innate dexterity.

As he had so many years before on Naboo, Obi-Wan sensed a momentary weakness in his opponent and moved swiftly to press his advantage. Just as the Sith Lord had been overconfident, Anakin surged forward, leaving himself open. Obi-Wan sliced with his sabre and the younger man was mortally wounded. Turning, in a last, vengeful effort to strike a killing blow to his opponent, Skywalker locked their sabres. Reeling toward the edge, Obi-Wan struggled now to survive. The ledge crumbled, Kenobi threw himself toward solid ground. Anakin fell back, plunging into the fiery cauldron.

Limping away from the sizzling lava pit, Kenobi retrieved the precious lightsabre he had claimed as his own when his Master had died -- a talisman of continuity and connection to their Warrior Bond. The literal passing of the cause, the sabre, the Force, to the Padawan turned Knight. Obi-Wan walked as far away as he could.

Needing to rest he stopped, tentatively searching his mind for the presence of Qui-Gon. He had felt the Warrior Bond again when he was fighting. So Qui-Gon had not deserted him! Yes, it was there, but so faint. Maybe Obi-Wan had connected to a final tendril of Bond through his desperation, and Qui-Gon had not sent that strength to him at all. Perhaps the Master did not want to speak with him again. Why should he? Obi-Wan was no longer worthy of the Jedi Master -- no longer worthy of the precious Warrior Bond that had transcended all power and unity and honor he had ever known. How many betrayals could Qui-Gon endure even in eternity? Obviously no more.

"Master. I am so sorry."

The dejected whisper trembled in his heart and mind. He had been right before, no amount of atonement could make up for what he had done. Killing Anakin was hardly an act worthy of balancing the scales -- balancing the Force. It would never make up for his wrongs, for murdering Amidala's husband, for destroying the chosen one.

He cried out in anguish. "I don't blame you for leaving. I can not dream that you will ever forgive me. And I am sure I will never be worthy of joining you in the Force. What can I do?" Thoughts filtered through the grief. Qui-Gon's mysterious words about being the last hope. Babies. "There is one hope left my Master, one last act?" Furiously he thought through the misery, searched for a reason to believe there was hope left anywhere in the galaxy. "The Force is alive still, isn't it, Master?" Even in his unworthy state he felt it, felt the answer. "In the Skywalker twins." Even with Anakin gone there were many enemies hunting the Jedi. Hunting anyone who knew of the royal/Force children. Fortunately, few knew of the births -- the displaced babies. Anakin had never known. One last blessing of the Force in a crumbling galaxy. "I will help them," Obi-Wan vowed solemnly. "This time I will not shame you, Master. They are the last hope of the Jedi." His voice trembled to a broken whisper, a stuttering plea. "My last -- hope -- of seeing you again."

The Force strength he had left was relegated to healing the various injuries in his body. With Anakin gone he had no need to reach out with his senses for danger or allies. He was convinced there were no friends, on this plane or the next, who would walk with him again. How could Qui-Gon? Obi-Wan could no longer walk the Warrior Path, but some forsaken trail of the damned. A place the noble Jinn would never tread. Wearily he trudged away; committed to this duty, resigned to a lifetime of service to children who were the future, the new hope, and who could change all the wrongs he had instigated.

A mournful figure shimmered, hovering just above the rocks, unseen by the wounded, despondent Jedi walking away, his back to the pit. "It is your destiny to walk alone for a time, my brave Padawan. You are the last hope, the only hope. You must train yet another." He reached out a ghostly hand. "It is you who have lost faith, Obi-Wan." Shaking his head he watched the solitary figure struggle up a slope. "I have not left you, my Padawan. That I will never do." Kenobi, who had erected too many walls of defeat and pain, could not hear the whispered message. Perhaps another day he would hear and see, but not now.