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Jedi Temple, Coruscant, 32 BBY
I always try to handle all my responsibilities with humility and patience, but Force, this blasted report is going to be the death of me, thought Master Plo Koon as he gave out a tired sigh and sat up straight in the chair that he had been occupying for the last four and a half hours.
He had just returned from an important mission to the Mid-Rim Bryx system where a multilevel conspiracy among the highest planetary officials had threatened to escalate into an open civil war. It had taken Plo Koon almost a full standard month to evaluate the situation and connect all the clues but in the end, he had been successful. His intervention had prevented a mass assassination attempt on the king and his council of ministers in the nick of time. When the situation had calmed down, and peace and order had been restored on Bryx once again, Plo Koon had left the planet with a profound feeling of hope for a better future for its people. There had been no more chaos, there had been new harmony.
If only I were able to access the same calming, grounding feeling right now.
Usually, Plo Koon liked to write his reports in a quiet corner of the Jedi Archives, fully immersed in the detailed notes he kept stored on various datapads, as soon as he came back to the Temple – while all the details of a recently completed mission were still at the forefront of his mind. This time, however, his concentration was wavering and the words he was searching for kept eluding him for some reason.
Maybe I should take a rest, the Kel Dor Master muttered under his antiox breath mask and attempted to release his steadily growing frustration into the Force.
“Yes, I think you should.”
Plo Koon turned his head sharply to the right at the unexpected sound. Master Jocasta Nu, the Chief Librarian of the Jedi Archives, must have approached his desk without him noticing. Plo Koon frowned. I must really be tired.
“I brought you a glass of Bantha Chai,” said Jocasta Nu in a calm voice and set a tall glass of thick, light blue liquid and a black metal straw on the table among the many datapads Plo Koon had in front of him. “You look like you could use a little tea break.”
“Oh, thank you, Jocasta. You’re a lifesaver!”
A spiced milky tea seemed to be just the thing Plo Koon needed to restore his dwindling mental energy. With great enthusiasm he grabbed the straw, connected it to a hidden port in his breath mask and took a few sips. The distinctive flavour of mixed spices and bantha milk instantly filled his mouth. He closed his eyes in delight for a moment and hummed contentedly, focusing through the Force on each of the beverage’s many ingredients and savouring them one by one.
Mmmm. This is so much better than standard meditation.
Jocasta gave him a small, knowing smile, then asked, “Do you need any help with your report, Plo?”
Plo Koon sighed and considered his friend’s generous offer. “No,” he replied eventually. “I’m afraid I must deal with this task myself.”
Jocasta nodded in silent acknowledgement, unsurprised, as if she had been expecting his answer. “I see. I’ll let you work then.” She gave Plo Koon’s shoulder a comforting squeeze and added, just before leaving, “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
“Thank you, Jocasta. I really appreciate it.”
As Plo Koon watched Jocasta return to her desk in the middle of the Main Reading Room, his dark eyes hidden behind a pair of protective goggles caught a glimpse of a new visitor at the entrance to the Archives – Padawan Anakin Skywalker.
The moment the young boy walked through the door, Plo Koon was hit by a sudden wave of emotions – joy, playfulness, impatience, and a small hint of nervousness as well. His face twitched under his breath mask in mild amusement as he took another sip of his Bantha Chai.
Despite having been living in the Jedi Temple for five months already, little Anakin still appeared to be in complete awe of the place and the beings residing within its ancient walls. His Force signature bore clear signs of it. Just now, upon entering the Archives, he reverently lowered his gaze and slowed his pace, the vast space of the Main Reading Room for once managing to transform his boundless excitement into quietly simmering curiosity.
He is shining like a bright star in the Force. Just like the first time he came to the Temple, Plo Koon mused, feeling unexpected fondness for the little Padawan. Without even meaning to, he keeps his trusting heart open wide for everyone to see. It speaks volumes about his character. It’s incredibly endearing. But, is it wise, too?
Absorbed in the scene unfolding in front of him, Plo Koon watched as Anakin smoothed down the front of his cream-coloured Padawan robes as if to shake the lingering nervousness off his mind and headed straight towards Jocasta Nu’s desk. The Master Archivist must have prepared for his visit beforehand because she promptly opened one of her desk drawers and handed Anakin an uncommonly large holobook. Even at the distance, Plo Koon recognised it as one of the dictionaries belonging to the extensive Galactic Languages Section of the Temple Library.
Equipped with his study material, Anakin chose one of the seats designed for shorter species and younglings and began to unpack his things from a small satchel that had been slung over his shoulder – a flimsi notebook, a pen, a comlink and something that looked like a half-eaten blumfruit muffin from the Temple refectory. When he caught sight of Plo Koon sitting at a desk nearby, Anakin smiled brightly and greeted him with a cheerful “Good evening, Master Plo!”
Having disconnected the straw from his breath mask, Plo Koon answered Anakin with an equally amicable, albeit quieter “Good evening, Padawan,” and reluctantly set his drink aside. He would come back to it and relish in its sweet and spicy taste once he finally managed to finish his bothersome mission report.
Meanwhile, Anakin’s holobook dictionary had stopped loading and a bluish projection with various symbols appeared in front of him. Anakin, eager as ever to dive headfirst into a new assignment, immediately began deciphering each individual letter in each word and writing his answers into the flimsi notebook.
Of course, Plo Koon remembered at once. Anakin must be here for his Aurebesh practice.
Due to his exceptionally old age to begin the Temple training, a special study plan had been designed for Anakin Skywalker, so that he would be able to learn everything he needed for his new life as a Jedi Padawan as soon as possible. The Jedi High Council had given its permission to Master Qui-Gon Jinn’s former Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi to take him as an apprentice, and Anakin was also supposed to attend various classes with other younglings his age.
Force studies, mechanics, piloting and even lightsaber combat – in all these fields of study he had managed to exceed the Council’s wildest expectations and had caught up with his peers in record time. However, classroom lessons, which relied heavily on reading and writing, had proved to be a much greater challenge than anyone could have guessed. It had turned out that as a slave in a busy spaceport on Tatooine, Anakin had had countless opportunities to communicate with space merchants, pilots, and other travellers from many different corners of the Galaxy and at mere nine years of age he was fluent in seven languages including Galactic Basic Standard. Nevertheless, given that the nature of these interactions had almost exclusively been oral, he could barely understand the Outer Rim Basic writing system, let alone Aurebesh.
Following this crucial discovery, a new study plan had been designed for Anakin – one that had reflected his actual educational needs better and included intensive Aurebesh lessons in the Archives with Master Jocasta Nu.
Lessons Anakin might not need to attend for much longer if Plo Koon had to take an educated guess.
In the short while that the Jedi Master had spent reflecting on the events of recent past, Anakin had filled an entire page of his flimsi notebook with his steadily improving handwriting. His feet were happily dangling above the floor and little sparks of satisfaction kept echoing in the Force as he seemed to rather effortlessly make his way through a variety of interactive exercises. Occasionally, he frowned and impatiently tugged at his short Padawan braid when he encountered a question that required more thought, or he paused to take a bite of his muffin. But otherwise, Anakin Skywalker was a perfect picture of calmness and concentration at that moment.
Not for the first time Plo Koon caught himself silently marvelling at Anakin’s fierce determination. The boy’s situation was unique and difficult in a great many ways. He had far more to learn than any other youngling his age, yet he was always giving his studies everything he had. His efforts were commendable. A mark of a promising young Jedi.
Anakin’s future might be clouded, Plo Koon pondered, recalling Master Yoda’s words of caution. He may or may not turn out to be the prophesied Chosen One, destined to bring balance to the Force. Only time will show that. Until it does, he will need our help. Our guidance. And most of all – our empathy. Because right now, he’s but a little child striving to adapt to the turbulent changes that have occurred in his life.
Concluding his train of thought with a little self-reminder to focus on the present, Plo Koon gave Anakin one last look through his goggles. Then, firmly resolved to follow the Padawan’s good example, he reactivated the screen of the datapad where he had saved the draft of his report and submerged himself completely in the details of his mission to the Bryx system again.
This time, he was far more successful. Adding one sentence after another, he managed to describe the unusually complex political and economic context of the mission, summarised the events that had followed his arrival to Bryx and provided a few recommendations, should a similar case develop elsewhere in the Galactic Republic in the future. A little less than two standard hours later, Plo Koon could finally say that he was done.
There is no chaos, there is harmony, he exhaled with satisfaction. At long last.
Pleased that he had been able to finish his task in one sitting after all, he closed his eyes and performed a short routine that always helped him calm his tired mind and get rid of the stiffness that tended to settle in his muscles after a long period of inactivity.
There is no emotion, there is peace, he reminded himself as he stretched his arms to the side, then relaxed them, mindful to keep breathing deeply and evenly.
There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. He rolled his shoulders back and down a couple of times, then counted to five before returning to his original position.
There is no passion, there is serenity. He stretched his legs in front of him under the table, as far as he could reach, then placed his feet firmly back onto the floor.
“There is no death, there is the Force.” He whispered and let the Force fill him completely – body and mind alike.
When Plo Koon opened his eyes again a couple of deep breaths later, he noticed that the lighting in the Archives had switched into night mode in the meantime. It was more suitable for when nocturnal species and species accustomed to living in low-light environments came to one of the reading rooms to work or study.
Or take a nap, Plo Koon observed with a mischievous grin as his gaze fell upon the desk where Anakin had previously been doing his homework and where he was now sleeping peacefully with his head resting on top of his folded arms.
Glancing briefly at the large chrono on the wall, Plo Koon noted the time and tilted his head a little to one side in bemusement.
But where is Obi-Wan? It’s already past curfew for the Temple younglings…
The answer to Plo Koon’s question revealed itself almost immediately – in the form of a young and rather dishevelled Jedi Knight who practically flew into the Main Reading Room, his hair an auburn mess and his usually composed face marred by worry.
There he is.
No sooner did Obi-Wan’s expression soften than he thoroughly scanned the reading room and located his lost Padawan in the seat where he had fallen asleep. Obviously relieved, the young Knight gave out a sigh, then, in a much more relaxed fashion, started meandering between the study desks. As he passed by where Plo Koon was sitting, Obi-Wan greeted the Kel Dor Master with a polite nod and a sheepish, deeply apologetic smile.
Still so self-conscious. Even when there’s no reason to be.
There had been a long discussion among the members of the High Council about whether to allow Obi-Wan to train a Padawan, let alone someone as special as Anakin Skywalker. Some of the Jedi Masters had not been entirely convinced that he had been ready for such level of responsibility yet. Not Plo Koon though. Over the years, the Kel Dor Master had considered himself very fortunate to be able to witness almost firsthand – thanks to his close friendship with Qui-Gon Jinn – how Obi-Wan transformed from a talented, yet very insecure youngling into a young man adept at using the Force independently and in a wide variety of situations. It had been a great joy to watch the gradual changes as they had occurred, one after another. The knowledge of the journey Obi-Wan had had behind him had cemented Plo Koon’s faith that the newly promoted Jedi would be able to handle anything that came with the rank of a fully fledged Jedi Knight – including taking his own Padawan learner. And he had not hesitated to tell his fellow Council members as much when he had felt the quiver of uncertainty linger on their minds.
You would have been proud of him, Qui-Gon, Plo Koon sent a thought into the Force, where he knew Obi-Wan’s old Master peacefully dwelled since his untimely death. In the past five months, he has wised up and matured so much. And, he genuinely cares about Anakin. Of that, there can be no doubt.
As if to confirm Plo Koon’s observations, Obi-Wan crouched beside his sleeping apprentice when he had reached the desk where Anakin was sitting, and tapped the boy on the shoulder. “Anakin… Wake up, Padawan mine,” he kept his voice soft and hushed so as not to startle him, only gently rouse him from his sleep.
At first, Anakin stirred a little and muttered something unintelligible but did not wake up. It took a few more gentle nudges before he reluctantly opened one eye and looked at Obi-Wan. “Mm-Master?” He mumbled in slight confusion. “M’sorry, Master Obi… I forgot I silenced… mmm... comlink…” He managed to say eventually, then laid his head back onto his arms and fell asleep again.
Plo Koon’s heart warmed all over at the sight in front of him. He had thought that he had already got used to spending time with the Temple younglings since he taught them the basics of Form V of lightsaber combat so often. But their antics had never failed to amuse and move him.
Obi-Wan seemed to be thinking along the same lines because he sent Anakin an indulgent and incredibly loving smile before he began to pack his things with great care and patience. Unhurriedly, he turned off the holobook projection and went to return the dictionary to Master Jocasta. When he came back, he put Anakin’s notebook, pen and comlink into the satchel which he then slung over his back. Finally, having resigned at any further attempts at waking Anakin up, Obi-Wan took the sleeping Padawan into his arms.
“All right, little one. Let’s put you to bed,” he suggested kindly and held Anakin close.
Seeking comfort in the safety of the embrace, Anakin immediately winded his arms firmly around Obi-Wan’s neck and rested his head on his shoulder, clinging onto his mentor’s body like a Mon Calamari limpet onto a rock. Unknowingly, he also began radiating his feelings into the Force again, unfiltered and raw in their sincerity.
Perfect calmness. Absolute trust. Infinite affection.
The corners of Obi-Wan’s mouth rose as high as they could when these gentle emotions reached his consciousness. He checked that all of Anakin’s things were either packed or returned to Jocasta Nu one last time, then he stepped into the aisle that separated a long row of study desks from the tall library shelves by the walls.
“Good night, Master,” Obi-Wan said to Plo Koon and headed with Anakin towards the Archives’ exit.
As Plo Koon watched the two of them leave, he could not help wondering what the future had in store for this unexpected Master–Padawan team. Their bond had always felt strong in the Force, even in the very beginning. As if they had unconsciously decided to build something new on the ruins of their separate and forcefully broken ties to late Qui-Gon Jinn whom they had both cared about very dearly. Something long-lasting and powerful. Something pure and beautiful.
Absentmindedly, Plo Koon grabbed his Bantha Chai and took a long sip. A question – or rather a sentimental wish – lingered on his mind, no matter how much his Jedi training encouraged him to banish it and focus only on the present moment.
Whatever happens in the future, may the Force be always with them, helping them face all their challenges together, as one.
As soon as he had had the thought, Plo Koon felt a strange vibration. Unexpectedly, the Force had decided to send him an answer. When its meaning fully registered in his mind, Plo Koon smiled contentedly into his tea.
There was no chaos. There was only harmony.
