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Ossus, like many other planets, has a long and varied history. With its present abundant verdancy, it would be easy to categorize it as an unassuming location. Through hours of hard fought research, however, Luke had been able to unearth the long millenia of growth, destruction, and rebirth that lay hidden beneath the planet’s soil.
In the meager resources he had managed to collect since the war ended, Luke had come across various vague comments alluding to the Jedi Council’s locale prior to being on Coruscant. A place of wisdom and history that welcomed countless Jedi with open arms over the centuries. It had been one evening late into the night that Luke, hunched over an old datapad that was steadily losing power, had first found the planet’s name.
Ossus.
It had rang in his head like a bell, a soft reverberation that steadily built each time he learned new information about the planet.
How it had been a pilgrimage sight for generations of Jedi.
Ossus.
When he stumbled across reconstructed designs of the Great Jedi Library that had caused him to weep.
Ossus.
The desolation that tore through the planet during a supernova, and the rumors of those who’d been unable to flee surviving despite it all.
Ossus.
His first trip to the planet had been somewhat of an archeological venture. The call he had felt from the Force to visit was undeniably strong, but Luke had assumed it was because of all of the history that had been lost on the planet and the possibility that he could recover some of it. It was a long shot, but he had to at least try.
When he had finally set foot on Ossus, that chiming background noise he had come to associate with the planet exploded in his mind with a force that nearly knocked him to the ground. It was a beautiful cacophony of tones and pitches that somehow found harmony amongst each other that filled Luke with an immutable sense of settlement within his very being as he realized the sound had not been a bell at all.
It was wind chimes.
Not unlike the ones that Aunt Beru had hung outside the homestead on Tatooine. Though their main function had been to warn of the strong winds that heralded oncoming sandstorms, Luke had always associated the sound with a sense of relief that had filled him when returning from the endless sands of his home planet. They were a sign that he could soon rest and shake off the work of the day that clung to him like dust. It was a sound that relaxed him, even with the twinge of sorrow that now accompanied it so many years after he had last heard the chimes that he grew up with.
And as he had sat on Ossus’ surface, a joyful chorus ringing in his ears, Luke knew that he had found the home of what would be the New Jedi Order.
The process of actually planning the school and gathering the appropriate materials had passed him by in a blur, much too eager to get started. The ant-droids, a very gracious gift from his sister and other members of the New Republic government, had sped up the process immensely.
As the first buildings were being built, Luke had some difficulty picturing other people, other Jedi, living alongside him in the simple stone huts. The ant-droids had built his designs to the letter, each stone slotting into its place perfectly as if its entire existence had culminated in becoming part of the homes. But he couldn’t help but think that the huts seemed… hollow as they remained uninhabited. What would a hut, the whole school, be like once it was finally lived in? What would it sound like as people went about their days?
Would his future students be happy here?
Now, however, he could not help the hint of a smile on his face as he watched Grogu and his Mandalorian friend seated beside each other on the hill for a long overdue reunion. He was grateful for the small glimpse they provided of what life could look like for the next incarnation of the Jedi Order.
The Mandalorian’s arrival on Ossus had been surprising, but not entirely unexpected. If anything, Luke had been surprised that it had taken him so long to visit.
From their brief first meeting on Moff Gideon’s cruiser, it had been obvious to Luke how much the Mandalorian cared for the child. He had been stalwart, standing protectively between Luke and Grogu when he had entered the command chamber. He had looked prepared to fight Luke if it had come down to it, even after the display of destroying the platoon of those strange trooper droids that Luke had been certain was caught on the security cams. It was admirable, but Luke was more than thankful that the Mandalorian acquiesced when it became clear that Grogu wasn’t afraid of coming with him.
Luke could still recall the wave of heartbreak that struck him when the Mandalorian removed his helmet to say goodbye to Grogu, revealing soulful brown eyes brimming with unshed tears. He had felt the Mandalorian’s pain at parting with the child, layering over flashes of memories of the Mandalorian, much smaller than he was then, saying goodbye to two people in red cloaks with similarly colored eyes. But underneath it all was a resolute determination to do what was best for the child, and the stubborn refusal to accept this departure as a finality.
“I’ll see you again, kid. I promise.”
Luke thought about that interaction more often than he’d like to admit.
He was broken out of his reverie with the approach of a growingly familiar presence at his side.
“Ahsoka,” he greeted, smiling kindly as said Togruta appeared on his right.
She returned the smile, arms lightly held across her chest. Luke could not help but notice that the smile faltered as her gaze looked upon the hill at his student and his guest.
“The Mandalorian is here,” she stated, face now set in a passively neutral manner curated through years of practice.
“As you predicted.”
He looked back up the hill. He could see that the Mandalorian was seated with his back against the trunk of the tree, Grogu sat on his lap and fiddling with a strange silver ball. Luke was honestly surprised Grogu hadn’t tried to eat it when he had seen the Mandalorian give it to him.
It was a peaceful sight, one Luke was glad for as he gave Ashoka the space to gather her thoughts.
Upon learning who she was after Artoo’s assurances that she was a friend and he could vouch for her, Luke had been beyond excited to meet her. There were so few remaining who had knowledge of the old Jedi Order. Even fewer were those who had actually lived its tenets and practices instead of reading them in old texts that Luke had had to repeatedly scrounge the black market for (turns out some of Han’s old contacts don’t want to kill him on sight). Not only that, but she had known his father as Anakin. As his padawan, of all things! There was so much he wanted to know.
Luke had needed to… tamp down his disappointment when Ahsoka kindly shut down his questions regarding the old Order, and his father in particular. It was, understandably, a sore spot for her that she only vaguely alluded to in the short time that they knew each other.
Regardless, he had been thoroughly surprised when Grogu recognized her, letting out an excited squeal when he saw her approaching from within the first constructed hut.
It was similar to the sound he was making now as he led the Mandalorian to the small pond, likely wanting to show him all of the frogs that called it home. Grogu had, thankfully, lessened his attempts to eat them in the past few days.
Ahsoka shifted next to him, gently moving her weight from one foot to the other.
“He’s so… bright.”
Luke hummed an affirmation. Even from their place at the base of the hill, Grogu’s presence in the Force was a powerful sensation. Ahsoka’s description wasn’t far off from what Luke felt from the child. To his perception, Grogu had the same energy and luminosity of a young star, brimming with potential and strength others wouldn’t suspect in such a small body.
“‘Luminous beings,’ indeed, we are,” he said.
Ahsoka chuckled, her smile back in full force as she no doubt thought of the other short, green Jedi they had both known. It seemed their old teacher hadn’t been afraid of reusing his material.
“I would’ve liked for them to meet,” he sighed.
“For all we know, they could have.”
They fell back into silence once more, and Luke could feel the swirl of Ahsoka’s thoughts almost like they were his own.
Just as with Grogu, Ahsoka’s presence in the Force was nothing to be laughed at. Luke sensed within her the strength of the winds that heralded a rainstorm, something with the potential to bring life or devastation. The current struggle in her made the gale hesitant, as if it did not know whether to follow its current course or shift directions entirely. The remnants of a long borne weight causing her otherwise tranquil presence to ripple with uncertainty.
But, for a brief moment, the winds seemed to calm.
“When I told you what I knew of their bond,” she began, “I was hoping you’d agree with me; that it was dangerous, that it would only mean disaster if the Mandalorian remained in his life while he was training. I know far too well how badly things can go when a Jedi… cares too much.”
Ahsoka breathed a heavy, centering sigh, before turning to face Luke.
“I gave you my opinions, but they were only just that. My opinions. I decided not to train Grogu, so it wasn’t fair of me to offer my thoughts on how you should handle his schooling when he is no longer my pupil.”
She turned her gaze from his. “I’m sorry.”
Luke was taken aback, surprised by her apology. When they had first broached the subject, she had been adamant in her belief that Grogu and the Mandalorian should remain separated now that Grogu was on his way to padawanship. Furthermore, she had suggested he try to discourage strong bonds like that for his future students.
He may have gotten a bit impassioned during their discussion, which then devolved into an argument. He knew, first hand, the dangers specific to Jedi when it came to loving those you cared about, and what acting on impulse to help them could cost. But on the other hand, Luke had also been saved on many occasions by those same connections.
Those connections had saved the galaxy.
“I appreciated our conversation on the matter,” he stated
Ahsoka looked back at him, brow raised in question.
“Really,” he assured with a smile. “These kinds of discussions are necessary. If I’m going to be a teacher for a new generation of Jedi, I need to know exactly what our beliefs and philosophies are. And they may be different from what you were taught, as the Jedi have a different role in the galaxy now.”
His mind wandered to the brilliant child on the hill. All he had managed to teach him in such a short time, and all Grogu was able to teach him.
They both still had so much to learn.
Luke tilted his head up, making sure he could meet Ahsoka’s gaze.
“The Jedi are still so fragile, we can’t afford to let actions driven by fear determine our future.”
Ahsoka’s eyes widened, his words washing over her before closing her eyes with a light shake of her head. When she looked up again, there was a melancholic smile on her face.
It was almost a whisper, but there was so much love in the words she said.
“I could only see him when I first saw you, but you have so much of your mother in you.”
Luke froze. He… she hadn’t told him she had known his mother, known Padmé. He supposed it made sense, but there was still so little he knew about her.
He was baffled by all Ahsoka seemed to know and her reluctance to share all but pieces of it.
“I should be off, then,” Ahsoka sighed.
“So soon?” Luke asked, a slight tilt to his head.
“Sadly, I still have my own mission. But it was nice coming here. The Force feels peaceful.”
She made to turn, but Luke saw her still as she looked back up the hill once more.
“You’re still… confident in your decision? Letting him visit?”
Luke followed her gaze, fighting back a chuckle as he saw Grogu had somehow convinced the Mandalorian to wade ankle deep into the pond. Grogu looked absolutely delighted.
“I wasn’t going to turn him away after inviting him here.” And I don’t know how I’d live with myself if I made him break his promise, he thought.
“Besides, he had already come all this way, it’d be rude to send him packing.”
Ahsoka let out a bright laugh, and Luke smiled. Joy suited her well.
“I’ll be sure to say goodbye to Artoo before I go,” she said, now fully turned.
“He’ll be happy you did.” He let her get a few steps away, thoughts turning before he called to her once more.
“Ahsoka,” she looked back at him, and Luke took a deep breath. “I need you to know that in his final moments my father died as Anakin Skywalker. He wasn’t Darth Vader or Palpatine’s plaything, just a man who dared to care.”
That same wide-eyed expression found its way onto her face, the winds of her presence creating swirls of confusion in the Force as she looked to the ground for a few moments. She nodded, a solemn acceptance in her expression as she looked back at him.
“Thank you, Luke.”
“Of course,” he said. “Will I see you again?”
“Perhaps,” she stated simply. “One day, I may even tell you more about your parents.”
There was the glint of a promise in her eyes as she left, leaving Luke to his thoughts once more.
He sighed, chewing on the inside of his cheek.
He hadn’t been lying when he told Ahsoka he needed to have serious discussions regarding the New Jedi Order. The argument he had with her was difficult, but helpful in solidifying the beliefs he hadn’t quite put into words yet. With her leaving, he didn’t have anyone else to talk to about Jedi philosophy or half-baked curriculum ideas.
It was hard for him to shake the feeling of being lost, wondering if himself alone would be enough for those he taught.
A light touch in the Force and an accompanying babble brought Luke back to the present, Grogu waving excitedly at him. The Mandalorian, having removed himself from the pond, was looking at him as well. He had some kind of small cloth in his hand.
Through their simple bond, Grogu was sending him impressions of want come here here gift important watch look come!
Luke smiled, gently sending back that he was coming as he started to climb the hill.
There were many things Luke could worry about in terms of the future of himself and the Jedi, many doubts that came into his mind in the middle of the night.
But now he had one student, and that was all he needed.
And maybe, he thought, eyes catching on how the Mandalorian’s armor reflected the late afternoon sun as he climbed the hill, I’ll have a new friend soon, as well.