Jedi Artisan 025

Some days into the journey, Zane once more found himself in conversation with the pair of master & disciple. 

Seated at the conference table, Qui-Gon seemed to be giving his student a lesson. 

“Tell me, Obi-Wan, what do you believe a Jedi’s purpose is?” The middle-aged Jedi asked, his hands calmly folded within the sleeves of his robe. 

The boy answered immediately. “To serve the Republic and preserve peace.”

“That is our duty, I asked about our purpose.” Qui-Gon steadily replied, staring deeply at his student's facial expressions. 

Obi-Wan considered the distinction for a moment, then responded with the utmost confidence. 

“To defend civilization. To uphold justice, and  protect democracy from those who would undermine it.” Obi-Wan nodded, as if to affirm that this was a non-negotiable fact. 

“And if the Republic acts unjustly?” Qui-Gon questioned with a raised eyebrow.  

“The Republic is governed by law.” Obi-Wan stated unwaveringly. 

“With a codex tens of thousands of pages long. There is a saying, Obi-Wan, ‘find me a man, and I'll find the crime.’ I'd wager you have broken a law or two in your time.” Qui-Gon gently explained. 

“The law can be corrected through democratic institutions. As Jedi, we can help the Senate see reason.” Obi-Wan said, stubbornly sticking to his guns. 

“Should the Senate dictate the actions of the Jedi? Is serving them our purpose?” Qui-Gon asked, tilting his head. 

“Serving the Senate does not give a Jedi authority to place himself above the Senate. They are the highest officeholders in the land, elected by the masses. Our purpose is to execute the will of the people.” Obi-Wan argued. 

“Service to the Senate does not release a Jedi from the responsibility of protecting those in need. Ultimately, Obi-Wan, man is corruptible, and prone to making mistakes. We, as Jedi, are servants of the Force, and guardians of the Republic.” 

“The Code states-”

“The Code offers guidance on life, but is not some sacred text. However, perhaps we have spoken enough on this matter.” Qui-Gon slowly stated. 

Obi-Wan looked faintly scandalized.

Zane watched him with some sympathy. The boy had been raised within the Temple, taught from infancy that the Code was the great wall standing between order and chaos. Questioning it must have felt like questioning the truths of time or gravity. To Kenobi, Qui-Gon might as well be a flat-Earther explaining his doctrine. 

“Knight Zane, what do you think?” Obi-Wan asked him.

Zane hid a smirk. The kid was really trying to stir the pot here. All that talk before about the Council of First Knowledge in the past, now would give Zane some authority on this matter? Heh. 

Resting one elbow on the table, he lazily glanced at the boy before he started speaking. “I think the Republic is an extraordinary achievement.”

Obi-Wan seemed pleased to hear that, quick to nod along. 

“It is an agreement between countless peoples, that they would rather argue than kill one another. Most of the time, they even honor those words. In a galaxy of quintillions, with seemingly infinite cultures, the fact we have held together so long is a miracle.”

“Then you agree that the Jedi must defend it.”

“I agree that it is worth defending.” Zane said, shaking, then nodding his head. 

“What do you mean by that?” Obi-Wan asked with a furrowed brow. 

“No institution is entirely the good it claims to represent. The idea of the Republic is a wondrous thing. In practice…well, once you're ready, I'm certain Master Qui-Gon will take you to the lower levels of Coruscant. There, you'll see just how deep the corruption runs.” Zane said with a somewhat melancholic sigh. 

“But the Republic represents democracy. The will of the people can never be wrong.” Obi-Wan shook his head. 

“The Republic is a method by which democracy may be practiced. When that method protects the weak, restrains the powerful, and gives ordinary people a voice, it serves the good. When it does not, painting the government's failures in senatorial colors does not make them virtuous.” Zane slowly drawled. 

“A Jedi cannot simply decide which laws deserve obedience. Please, Knight Zane, see reason.” Obi-Wan all but pleaded. 

“The Jedi are guardians of the Republic. Her people, worlds, property, interests. It is for the Jedi to decide which of these they wish to protect. The Senate and their laws are but a small portion of what constitutes the Republic as a whole.” Zane explained. 

“That reasoning could justify rebellion. I've read the histories…please do be careful, Knight Zane, many cases of Jedi have fallen because of this line of reasoning.” Obi-Wan said, his voice colored with concern. 

“Most truths are dangerous when labeled as such. There are many heroes who have saved this Republic, young man, who you will never learn about. Our society is in a late stage decay. You will find that the Republic of today is a pale copy of what once was. Back then, the Jedi held people accountable. These days…” Zane shook his head, and held his tongue, realizing he had perhaps said too much. 

Obi-Wan turned to Qui-Gon, clearly expecting his Master to impose some order upon the discussion. Instead, Qui-Gon stroked his beard.

“What would you have a Jedi obey?” He asked Zane.

“The Force, whenever we are wise enough to hear it. Compassion, whenever we are not.”

“Compassion without discipline can be exploited.” Obi-Wan interjected. 

“Fortunately, I never leave home without a dash of logic.” Zane joked. 

“A Jedi may save one person and thereby endanger thousands. Every action of ours must be measured. To be a Jedi is a great responsibility.” Obi-Wan argued. 

“You are correct young one. Finally, something we agree upon.” Zane smiled with a little laugh. 

Obi-Wan paused, briefly flat-footed by Zane’s willingness to concede the point.

“Then how can you defend such a philosophy?” Obi-Wan asked, shaking his head. 

“Because refusing to act also has consequences. Should I leave a Tooka to drown in a puddle because I'm in a hurry? By passing out weatherproof clothes, should I worry that the clothing factory will close, and I am losing people their jobs? What is the price of good? As conduits of the Force, should we be willing to accept mediocrity?” Zane said one line after another, finally beginning to get passionate. 

“A Jedi must consider the greater good.” Obi-Wan weakly replied. 

“He must, but people who speak too easily of the greater good have never been the one to sacrifice. Master Qui-Gon needs a heart transplant to survive, but the King of Naboo has swooped in to take his donor organ. The King can't die, he governs millions. It's for the greater good. Sullust has paid for a grain shipment, but it is rerouted to Coruscant at the last minute to feed more people. Thousands on Sullust will starve to death because of the poor planning of Coruscant's logisticians. It's for the greater good. If hell was paved with good intentions, then the courage of the Jedi Order was damned by the adherence to the greater good.” Zane said in an impassioned monologue. 

Qui-Gon’s gaze settled on him with growing interest.

Obi-Wan was quiet as he didn't know whether to refute these claims, keep to himself as was proper for someone of lower rank, or dare he think…what if Zane was right?

“The necessary path is often the one that asks the most courage from the person choosing it. I can appreciate some of your views…Zane.” Qui-Gon said with a small smile. 

Zane inclined his head. 

For the first time since they had boarded the cruiser, they regarded one another not merely as colleagues selected for the same assignment, but as men who had recognized a familiar road in each other.

“Master Oogway says something similar. Although he usually waits until I have already made the wrong choice.” Zane joked with a self deprecating shrug of the shoulders. 

“A good teacher must preserve his sense of timing, and his plausible deniability.” Qui-Gon lightly chuckled. 

Obi-Wan looked from one to the other. “Are you saying that a Jedi should always do what feels right?”

“No. Feelings may deceive us.” Qui-Gon explained. 

“Then the Code-”

“May also be misapplied.”

“Then what remains?”

“The present, us living in the moment. The Force as it exists now trumps all feelings.” 

Obi-Wan’s frown deepened, he remained looking unconvinced.

Zane rose from his chair and walked to the viewport. He lifted one hand toward the luminous expanse beyond the glass.

“The Force is a vast web. Every life is bound to every other. Every choice pulls upon a strand, and every strand moves something beyond our sight. But I sometimes think a web is too still an image.” Zane’s fingers shifted as though touching invisible cords. “Perhaps it is more like an instrument. Endless strings drawn across all creation.”

He plucked one of the imaginary strings.

“Every living thing adds a note. Every fear, every kindness, every birth and death. The Force sounds through all of it, and the melody changes with each choice we make.”

Zane turned back to face the other Jedi, hyperspace burning blue around his silhouette. There was something peculiar in his expression then: a spark of playful certainty, part craftsman and part showman, as though he had just opened the door to some magnificent workshop hidden behind the universe.

“We Jedi, are the music makers.” 

For several seconds, Obi-Wan appeared unable to decide which portion of the statement violated the Code. 

Qui-Gon, however, continued stroking his beard. “The living Force as music, hm? Always moving, changed by every voice, yet greater than any single one. What a refreshing interpretation. And the Jedi? We guide this melody?”

“Perhaps. Though I suspect we cause trouble whenever we imagine ourselves the composers.”

Qui-Gon smiled at that.

Obi-Wan finally found his voice. “The Force is not music. The Force is an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us, penetrates us, and binds the galaxy together.”

“That is the accepted teaching, and entirely correct. But the Force is alive, and carries a will of its own.” Zane said. 

“The Force does not act because the Council has already issued instructions.” Qui-Gon said. “Nor does our duty to the masses become lesser because the Senate has passed a law. A Jedi must listen. Truly listen. That requires discipline far more demanding than blind obedience. In time, I hope you learn this well, my Padawan.” 

“My loyalty is not blind.”

“I know.” Qui-Gon said, both sadly and with relief.

Obi-Wan’s defensiveness faltered, and the young teen appeared somewhat vulnerable for the first time since Zane had laid eyes upon him. 

Qui-Gon regarded his young apprentice with quiet affection. Their bond was new and still uncertain. Obi-Wan had feared that due to his ‘lesser’ connection to the Force, he may become a member of the Jedi Service Corp. In some ways, this fear had led to overcompensation in certain areas. 

The boy had responded to that uncertainty by clinging tightly to every regulation, tradition, and each measurable standard of what a Jedi ought to be. Rules could not abandon him. The Code was absolute.

Qui-Gon understood more than Obi-Wan suspected.

“Your respect for the Order is a strength, as is your dedication. I would not have you surrender either.”

Obi-Wan looked up, complex emotions were welling up inside of him. 

“But a strength held too rigidly may become a weakness. Even a lightsaber blade must move.”

The boy absorbed the lesson in silence, gratitude flashing across his face. 

Zane returned to the table and began rummaging through a small satchel.

“What are you doing?” Obi-Wan asked curiously-almost eagerly-looking over to see if any other mystic objects or props would come onto the scene. 

“Searching for lunch.”

Zane then produced a small parcel wrapped in waxed cloth. Upon unfolding it, he revealed three sweet rolls glazed with honey and dotted with blue seeds.

Obi-Wan stared at them, unable to hide the growl in his stomach. Zane offered one to Qui-Gon, to which the Jedi Master accepted with a nod. 

“Master.” Obi-Wan said.

Qui-Gon examined the pastry. “Yes?”

“We are expected to exit hyperspace in twenty-three minutes. Do we truly have time to risk getting crumbs on our robes before such an important diplomatic function?” Obi-Wan asked in an exasperated tone. 

“I have confidence in our ability to finish quickly and cleanly.” Qui-Gon said, ravenously devouring his roll. 

Zane held out the third sweet roll, silencing Obi-Wan’s dissatisfactions. The teen eyed it as though it were a temptation sent by the Darkside itself. 

“Care for a meiloorun sweet roll?” Zane tempted. His whisper like the most convincing Sith from a holodrama. 

Qui-Gon took a bite from his roll, and upon seeing his student's plight, gave him a way out. “It would be discourteous to refuse hospitality.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes narrowed. He knew perfectly well that this was not a formally recognized application of diplomatic protocol. Still, after a long internal struggle, he accepted the pastry.

Zane glanced at Qui-Gon, to which Qui-Gon nodded back. Nothing was said, yet an understanding passed between them. This was the birth of a beautiful friendship. 

Obi-Wan took a cautious bite, and his stern expression remained firmly in place. Then, when he thought neither adult was watching, he took a second, much larger one.