Dagobah, galaxy far, far away [NFB]
Luke would've liked to blame the new hand or forgetting how to fly with an astromech droid, but the simple truth was that the instrument panel went dead and he ended up crashing the X-Wing into what he soon discovered to be one of the many, many swamps of Dagobah.
It wasn't the greatest start, and he was positive that Artoo was snickering at him. Getting almost eaten by some kind of swamp thing hadn't put a damper on the droid's finely tuned sense of the ridiculous and Luke's complete lack of anything resembling a sense of direction was making for an entertaining, if difficult, trek through the jungle for Artoo.
After finding no sign of a Jedi Master and meeting entirely more slimy insects than a desert boy would consider strictly necessary (that is, any at all), Luke flopped down onto a log and picked a stick of some kind of food out of the emergency ration kit.
Artoo burbled at him. Luke raised an eyebrow. "If you're saying coming here was a bad idea, I'm beginning to agree with you," he said, staring at the unappealing scenery. "Oh, Artoo, what are we doing here? It's like... something out of a dream, or, I don't know. Maybe I'm just going crazy." He poked at the portable heater. "Still, there's something familiar about this place. I feel like…"
"Feel like what?" a voice asked behind him.
Luke jumped and spun, reaching for his blaster. "Like we're being watched," he said, glaring.
"Away put your weapon!" the green creature said, "I mean you no harm." A long ear twitched. "I am wondering, why are you here?"
Luke grinned. He recognized the creature immediately from the holocron in the library. "Hello, Master Yoda."
Yoda visibly deflated. "Years have I spent working on my crazy hermit routine," he grumbled under his breath. "Taken away my fun you have."
"I'd guess you'd have to come up with something to do in this slimy mudhole," Luke agreed, wrinkling up his nose.
"Mudhole? Slimy?" Yoda blinked his enormous eyes at Luke, then whacked him with his walking stick. "My home this is! Too much like your father you are."
Luke winced, stung. "I'm not!" he protested. "I'm nothing like him."
Yoda stared at him for a long moment, then snorted. "Come," he said, waving his hand vaguely towards the jungle. He began walking without pausing to see if Luke was coming.
Luke stared after him petulantly for a moment, then turned to Artoo. "Watch after the camp," he said, then stood up and followed Yoda, who was muttering to himself about the general uselessness of untrained Force-users and Skywalkers in particular. It was obvious he was intending to be heard.
They were in Yoda's hut eating some sort of stew before Yoda finally began talking to Luke again, rather than just about him.
"Why wish you to become Jedi?" he asked.
Luke swallowed hard, suddenly finding the bowl in his hands to be almost endlessly fascinating. "It used to be because of my father," he said softly. "Now…"
"Powerful Jedi was he," Yoda replied, years of regret in his voice. "Powerful Jedi."
Luke sighed, frustrated. "I don't even know what I'm doing here," he said, knocking his head back against the wall.
Yoda sighed as well. "I cannot teach him," he told the ceiling. "The boy has no patience."
"He will learn patience," an all-too familiar voice replied in soothing tones.
Luke jumped, hitting his head against the low ceiling. "Ben?!" It was not a particularly joyful greeting and Yoda gave Luke a searching look. "Much anger in him," he said slowly to the disembodied voice. "Like his father." He let out a humorless laugh. "Directed at you. Also like his father."
Yoda shook his stick at Luke, then at thin air. "Deal with this you must," he said firmly. "Teach you I will not when you have not learned to control your anger," he told Luke. A small smile spread across his face. "This lesson is Obi-Wan's to teach, I think, hmmm?"
There was a small sigh. It could have been the wind outside the hut, but Luke knew that it wasn't.
"Very well," Obi-Wan said, appearing outside the door. "Shall we talk a walk, Luke?"
Luke scrambled to his feet and stomped out after the ghost. "You lied to me," he began.
Obi-Wan sighed again, searching for words to explain the most heartbreaking moment of his life. It had been almost twenty years since Mustafar.
He still couldn't do it.
He spread his hands and looked helplessly at Luke.
Luke crossed his arms over his chest and glared. The new black glove covering his prosthetic hand was suddenly the only thing Obi-Wan could focus on.
"You left out a rather important piece of information, Ben," Luke snapped, as angry as he'd ever been in his life. "You said that Vader betrayed and murdered my father."
Incorporeal beings don't need to sit down, of course, but Obi-Wan sat down on a nearby log anyway. Old habits die hard.
"Your father was seduced by the dark side of the Force," he said quietly as the image of Anakin's tormented face, then Padmé's, flashed through his mind. "When that happened, he ceased to be Anakin Skywalker and became Darth Vader." He glanced up at Luke to see how he was taking this. "So what I told you was true. From a certain point of view."
Luke gaped at him. "A certain point of view?" he finally shouted. "You sent me out to kill my father!"
Obi-Wan swallowed hard. This was the hardest lesson Luke would ever learn, and it was essential that he did so as soon as possible. "He's more machine now than man," he said as his heart clenched in his chest, "twisted and evil. He's not your father, Luke. Not in the ways you're looking for. Mourn and move on."
That detachment, so essential to being a Jedi, was something Anakin had never been able to learn. Obi-Wan was hoping his son could be different, even if the stubborn, sullen set to Luke's mouth didn't bode particularly well.
Luke stared at Obi-Wan, jaw clenching. Holding on to Anakin's lightsaber for decades didn't strike him as particularly detached. He finally dropped down onto a nearby log with a tired sigh. "How did this happen?" he asked.
Obi-Wan gave him a wry smile. If you only knew how many years I've spent asking that same question, young one, he thought. Aloud he said, "When I met your father, he was already a great pilot." Flashes of that sandy-haired little boy grinning up at him burst into Obi-Wan's mind and he smiled in spite of himself. "I was amazed at how strongly the Force flowed in him."
Luke nodded. "Because he was the Chosen One."
Obi-Wan looked down at the ground, uncomfortable with the subject. If Anakin had truly fulfilled that prophecy…if Mace had been correct and the light had been too strong and Anakin had been destined to fall…Obi-Wan's entire life had been spent in futile service. And he and Yoda were setting Luke up for needless sacrifice.
He clenched his jaw. But that would mean the Sith were supposed to be ruling the galaxy. The Force couldn’t possibly be that cruel. He continued with his story. "I thought I could teach him just as well as Yoda," he said quietly. "I was wrong."
His failure as a teacher, as a friend and as a partner had led to the galaxy as Luke knew it. A place of darkness, of fear, of loneliness. He was sure Vader had never forgiven him for it. He glanced over at Luke to see if he could expect something different from the son.
It was obvious from the look of polite detachment on Luke's face that he hadn't fully grasped the magnitude of Obi-Wan's confession. Obi-Wan thought about it for a moment. Luke didn't know about the heritage he had lost: the Temple and its archives, how it would feel to grow in knowledge of the Force in a place of peace and understanding with beings from around the galaxy. Luke was sitting on a log in a swamp learning from a man he'd known most of his life primarily as the crazy desert hermit.
It was a pitiful substitution, and Obi-Wan bowed his head in sorrow.
Luke tilted his head to look at him. "So you wanted me to come here to learn from Yoda," he said softly.
Obi-Wan nodded, eyes sad.
Luke smiled. "Because you think he's a better teacher," he continued.
Obi-Wan nodded again.
"No one will ever be better than you," Luke said with quiet conviction.
Obi-Wan blinked, then took a closer look at the Skywalker in front of him. For all the physical resemblances he had to Anakin, the expression of trust, of loyalty, of unbreakable faith on Luke's face…was pure Padmé.
And suddenly Obi-Wan felt an enormous weight lift from his shoulders. This Skywalker wouldn't shatter.
He had too much of his mother in him.
And Obi-Wan thanked the Force for it.
It wasn't the greatest start, and he was positive that Artoo was snickering at him. Getting almost eaten by some kind of swamp thing hadn't put a damper on the droid's finely tuned sense of the ridiculous and Luke's complete lack of anything resembling a sense of direction was making for an entertaining, if difficult, trek through the jungle for Artoo.
After finding no sign of a Jedi Master and meeting entirely more slimy insects than a desert boy would consider strictly necessary (that is, any at all), Luke flopped down onto a log and picked a stick of some kind of food out of the emergency ration kit.
Artoo burbled at him. Luke raised an eyebrow. "If you're saying coming here was a bad idea, I'm beginning to agree with you," he said, staring at the unappealing scenery. "Oh, Artoo, what are we doing here? It's like... something out of a dream, or, I don't know. Maybe I'm just going crazy." He poked at the portable heater. "Still, there's something familiar about this place. I feel like…"
"Feel like what?" a voice asked behind him.
Luke jumped and spun, reaching for his blaster. "Like we're being watched," he said, glaring.
"Away put your weapon!" the green creature said, "I mean you no harm." A long ear twitched. "I am wondering, why are you here?"
Luke grinned. He recognized the creature immediately from the holocron in the library. "Hello, Master Yoda."
Yoda visibly deflated. "Years have I spent working on my crazy hermit routine," he grumbled under his breath. "Taken away my fun you have."
"I'd guess you'd have to come up with something to do in this slimy mudhole," Luke agreed, wrinkling up his nose.
"Mudhole? Slimy?" Yoda blinked his enormous eyes at Luke, then whacked him with his walking stick. "My home this is! Too much like your father you are."
Luke winced, stung. "I'm not!" he protested. "I'm nothing like him."
Yoda stared at him for a long moment, then snorted. "Come," he said, waving his hand vaguely towards the jungle. He began walking without pausing to see if Luke was coming.
Luke stared after him petulantly for a moment, then turned to Artoo. "Watch after the camp," he said, then stood up and followed Yoda, who was muttering to himself about the general uselessness of untrained Force-users and Skywalkers in particular. It was obvious he was intending to be heard.
They were in Yoda's hut eating some sort of stew before Yoda finally began talking to Luke again, rather than just about him.
"Why wish you to become Jedi?" he asked.
Luke swallowed hard, suddenly finding the bowl in his hands to be almost endlessly fascinating. "It used to be because of my father," he said softly. "Now…"
"Powerful Jedi was he," Yoda replied, years of regret in his voice. "Powerful Jedi."
Luke sighed, frustrated. "I don't even know what I'm doing here," he said, knocking his head back against the wall.
Yoda sighed as well. "I cannot teach him," he told the ceiling. "The boy has no patience."
"He will learn patience," an all-too familiar voice replied in soothing tones.
Luke jumped, hitting his head against the low ceiling. "Ben?!" It was not a particularly joyful greeting and Yoda gave Luke a searching look. "Much anger in him," he said slowly to the disembodied voice. "Like his father." He let out a humorless laugh. "Directed at you. Also like his father."
Yoda shook his stick at Luke, then at thin air. "Deal with this you must," he said firmly. "Teach you I will not when you have not learned to control your anger," he told Luke. A small smile spread across his face. "This lesson is Obi-Wan's to teach, I think, hmmm?"
There was a small sigh. It could have been the wind outside the hut, but Luke knew that it wasn't.
"Very well," Obi-Wan said, appearing outside the door. "Shall we talk a walk, Luke?"
Luke scrambled to his feet and stomped out after the ghost. "You lied to me," he began.
Obi-Wan sighed again, searching for words to explain the most heartbreaking moment of his life. It had been almost twenty years since Mustafar.
He still couldn't do it.
He spread his hands and looked helplessly at Luke.
Luke crossed his arms over his chest and glared. The new black glove covering his prosthetic hand was suddenly the only thing Obi-Wan could focus on.
"You left out a rather important piece of information, Ben," Luke snapped, as angry as he'd ever been in his life. "You said that Vader betrayed and murdered my father."
Incorporeal beings don't need to sit down, of course, but Obi-Wan sat down on a nearby log anyway. Old habits die hard.
"Your father was seduced by the dark side of the Force," he said quietly as the image of Anakin's tormented face, then Padmé's, flashed through his mind. "When that happened, he ceased to be Anakin Skywalker and became Darth Vader." He glanced up at Luke to see how he was taking this. "So what I told you was true. From a certain point of view."
Luke gaped at him. "A certain point of view?" he finally shouted. "You sent me out to kill my father!"
Obi-Wan swallowed hard. This was the hardest lesson Luke would ever learn, and it was essential that he did so as soon as possible. "He's more machine now than man," he said as his heart clenched in his chest, "twisted and evil. He's not your father, Luke. Not in the ways you're looking for. Mourn and move on."
That detachment, so essential to being a Jedi, was something Anakin had never been able to learn. Obi-Wan was hoping his son could be different, even if the stubborn, sullen set to Luke's mouth didn't bode particularly well.
Luke stared at Obi-Wan, jaw clenching. Holding on to Anakin's lightsaber for decades didn't strike him as particularly detached. He finally dropped down onto a nearby log with a tired sigh. "How did this happen?" he asked.
Obi-Wan gave him a wry smile. If you only knew how many years I've spent asking that same question, young one, he thought. Aloud he said, "When I met your father, he was already a great pilot." Flashes of that sandy-haired little boy grinning up at him burst into Obi-Wan's mind and he smiled in spite of himself. "I was amazed at how strongly the Force flowed in him."
Luke nodded. "Because he was the Chosen One."
Obi-Wan looked down at the ground, uncomfortable with the subject. If Anakin had truly fulfilled that prophecy…if Mace had been correct and the light had been too strong and Anakin had been destined to fall…Obi-Wan's entire life had been spent in futile service. And he and Yoda were setting Luke up for needless sacrifice.
He clenched his jaw. But that would mean the Sith were supposed to be ruling the galaxy. The Force couldn’t possibly be that cruel. He continued with his story. "I thought I could teach him just as well as Yoda," he said quietly. "I was wrong."
His failure as a teacher, as a friend and as a partner had led to the galaxy as Luke knew it. A place of darkness, of fear, of loneliness. He was sure Vader had never forgiven him for it. He glanced over at Luke to see if he could expect something different from the son.
It was obvious from the look of polite detachment on Luke's face that he hadn't fully grasped the magnitude of Obi-Wan's confession. Obi-Wan thought about it for a moment. Luke didn't know about the heritage he had lost: the Temple and its archives, how it would feel to grow in knowledge of the Force in a place of peace and understanding with beings from around the galaxy. Luke was sitting on a log in a swamp learning from a man he'd known most of his life primarily as the crazy desert hermit.
It was a pitiful substitution, and Obi-Wan bowed his head in sorrow.
Luke tilted his head to look at him. "So you wanted me to come here to learn from Yoda," he said softly.
Obi-Wan nodded, eyes sad.
Luke smiled. "Because you think he's a better teacher," he continued.
Obi-Wan nodded again.
"No one will ever be better than you," Luke said with quiet conviction.
Obi-Wan blinked, then took a closer look at the Skywalker in front of him. For all the physical resemblances he had to Anakin, the expression of trust, of loyalty, of unbreakable faith on Luke's face…was pure Padmé.
And suddenly Obi-Wan felt an enormous weight lift from his shoulders. This Skywalker wouldn't shatter.
He had too much of his mother in him.
And Obi-Wan thanked the Force for it.