Disclaimer: George Lucas created Star Wars and it was good. I
intend no copyright infringement with the following
interpretation of his universe.
Note: After my post to the M_A list on this topic this morning
(!) a damn plot bunny raced up and bit me. The rest is history.
Summary: Force-ghosts are rare and Obi-Wan is trapped in hell.
This life, or more correctly, this death, is hell. I wander
through the spaces between planets, an insubstantial blue wisp
of a thing, as if I don't exist. No one can see me. No one can
hear me. I might as well be dead, but I already tried that and
just look where it got me.
Perhaps if the Jedi were still alive then I would have some
hope. I remember reading the ancient legends when I was younger
of individuals so strong in the Force that they could hold on
to the living soul of a loved one just before death. Foolishly,
I never paid attention to the stories. If I had, perhaps things
would have been different. Perhaps I could have reached out and
grabbed Qui-Gon's soul just before he left me forever.
It's been so long yet I still miss him intensely. It's a raw
gaping hole in my soul. During the long living years without
him, I deadened myself to the pain, knowing that someday,
someday, we would be together again. I longed for that time. It
was my only salvation.
But now I'm stuck in an eternity of hell. So alone....
I had been preparing myself for the moment for most of my life.
Ever since that bastard Anakin, my ex-best friend, destroyer of
everything that is right and good, betrayed me for the first
time I always knew it would end this way.
Vader stood in front of me, breathing in his menacing way, but
it did not frighten me. I was merely tired of it all. Tired of
looking out for his son, as if I owed him something. The only
debt I owed was to Amidala, to protect Luke until he was old
enough to decide what he wanted, and then give him a good
grounding in the basics of the Force.
There was no way I would dare train him. The legend of the
padawan has become all but lost. My hopes for Luke lay with
Yoda, who had also been waiting.
My waiting was over. I longed for death and I knew it would
give Anakin pleasure to give it to me. Yet I didn't know what
he was doing. I thought he would release me into a world far
more wondrous than the living one, a world where my love once
again lived. I was wrong.
The boy, Luke, arrived. I sent a message through the Force,
telling him to go, and then I stared at Vader. It was time.
//Qui-Gon,// I thought, a half-smile on my lips, knowing he
would be waiting for me in whatever realm lay beyond this one.
A swish of a lightsaber was all it took. And then I was gone.
And yet...that foolish Luke was still standing there, yelling
"NO!" as I once did when my master was struck down by a Sith. A
terrible dread settled over my heart...Luke was still watching
me? Luke, only the second person in the universe with a higher
midi-chlorian count than Yoda?
I half realised then the truth I know now, that the Skywalkers
were fated to doom my soul for all time. From the moment I set
eyes on Anakin to Luke's unwitting betrayal, all they have ever
done to me is kept me away from Qui-Gon.
I had a very bad feeling about it throughout that first day.
Dazed, I watched Vader callously stamp on the robe which had
once been Qui-Gon's. I wondered if any part of Anakin remained
to recognise it. I continued to follow Vader for a while, more
out of curiousity over my new state than anything else. I
sensed that Luke would be all right for the moment.
Vader ritually incinerated the cloak before sending a message
to that Sith bastard Palpatine. I concentrated on Jedi calmness
as the cloak burned, telling myself that I was beyond anger
over such things now. Yet a part of me remembered how safe I
felt in that cloak, the one I had stored carefully for so long
until I sensed my death was near.
I had felt powerful in that cloak, alive again, ready for one
last crusade. Now it was gone and so was I. Vader concluded his
communication and then looked up, right at me, I was sure. A
chill went through my non-corporeal heart. "Still here,
Obi-Wan?" he asked insidiously. I refused to let him intimidate
me.
"You thought death would be better, didn't you?" Vader
continued. I wondered if he could see me truly, or was it just
a sense through the Force? "You should have known better than
that, old man. Now you're bound to watch my domination of the
galaxy. You are powerless to interfere."
I wanted to answer him and I tried, but it was so difficult to
penetrate between the realms. I was the ghost and he was not.
"You should not have underestimated the power of the Dark
Side," Vader said grimly. "If I had wanted to keep you here, I
could have, but it seems that my son is even more powerful than
me."
His son! How did he know?
"I shall thank the boy some day, when he joins me," breathed
Vader. "Perhaps together we shall thank you for giving us an
introduction to the ways of the Force and being living proof of
why the Dark Side is so much better! Did you ever know that I
hated you, my old master?" Vader paused, suddenly thrusting his
hand into the space where I thought my body was. Hatred flowed
through him, into me, and I shivered with intense loneliness.
"I was always second in your thoughts, second in your heart, to
a man who was long dead." I was surprised Vader chose to
elaborate, for years Anakin had kept his thoughts secret. "I
was your padawan who was never good enough, the apprentice you
took on only out of guilt. You hated me and now I return that
hatred."
He had a valid point and as I realised the truth, a wave of
remorse shot through me. //Anakin, I'm sorry,// I tried to say,
but even had my words been audible, Vader would have ignored
them.
"I finally have my revenge," Vader concluded, and that was when
I knew the awful truth.
Despite being dead, I was still there. I am still here.
Not in the Jedi afterlife, no, I am trapped as a ghost in this
realm.
As far as I know, I am the only one who's been "fortunate"
enough to die in front of Luke Skywalker. I do not know if I
can stand to be the last. I will go insane shortly, I know I
will. It's been two and a half years of this emptiness and
despite the fact that Luke heard my words once, it is an act
that has never been repeated. I've tried countless times to
communicate with him, or with Yoda, but always, there is
nothing.
I want to die but this is death. There is no escape, nothing I
can do but cry at the injustice of it all.
I miss Qui-Gon more than ever. Wherever his spirit is, can he
sense my pain? Does he know that we are now separated for
eternity, even though he promised as he was dying that we would
meet again someday? I love him still and it tears at my soul to
know that it can never be.
Sometimes I walk the planets searching for someone who could be
him. Every so often I catch sight of a tall, strong man with
flowing hair and a beard and I pause, just for a moment,
wondering if reincarnation is possible. But always, whomever he
is turns and I see that the eyes are not Qui-Gon's. Not the
brilliant blue I recall, the blue that could speak a thousand
different emotions to me and me alone. Gentle humour or
chastisement, serenity or passion. All these things I remember,
all these things I can never have again.
There are times when I close my own eyes and can almost imagine
him near me, perhaps watching from his own afterlife. I used to
feel his comforting presence when I was first Knighted, even
though I could never see him, never touch him. But to know that
he still existed was enough. I wish I had such comfort now.
Do I still exist? It's something I argue with myself about. One
can go quite mad having no one around to have conversations
with. Of course, there's always Vader but I blame him for this.
I am quite certain he knew what Luke would do. Anakin
always had remarkable insight.
It's circular insanity sometimes. I go from raging grief to
hatred to depression, or quiet loneliness. I drift. I do not
exist. I am alone and nothing is ever going to change that
fact. All I can do is watch the darkness continue to spiral
through the universe, the darkness I created. This is
hell. And I belong in it.
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