DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
A month.
A whole month, and Luke had no idea what to do. Coruscant, now the center of the restored Galactic Republic, was a wonderful place, but he had nothing to do. Leia was working, Han and Lando and Chewie were doing... Something, somewhere. They hadn't told Luke exactly what, and he had no desire to ask. Something illegal, probably.
Now he was sitting in one of Coruscant's glittery bars, one called the Jedi's Choice. He had left his Jedi robe at home, figuring that the nightclub was not the usual hot spot for a Jedi Knight.
A square glass was shoved into his hand. Luke glanced up at the bartender. He was around fifty, with long white hair pulled back into a ponytail, a short beard, and twinkling eyes in a leathery face. “You look like you need it,“ Rath commented, smiling affectionately at Luke. "How's everyone's favorite Jedi?"
"Depressed," Luke admitted, taking a sip of the drink. "I say, Rath, you can make these Corellian Sunsets like no one else!"
Rath smiled modestly and sat down, wiping his hands on his apron. "What are you depressed about, young Luke?"
Luke toyed with the glass, staring into the depths of his drink where bubbles played like tiny minnows. "The Jedi. Master Yoda... was the last one... except me."
"And this saddens you?" Rath asked, his dark eyes sympathetic.
Luke nodded, pursing his lips a little. "I don't know enough to teach another to become a Jedi... I don't know rules or traditions or possible dangers... I barely know how to construct a lightsaber. I don't know enough."
Rath said nothing, only patting Luke on the wrist. "Never lose heart, my boy," he said quietly. "The Empire was evil, a great wrong, but there is no wrong that cannot be righted. No injury..." He stopped, as if he had said too much.
Luke nodded and sighed. "Well, I'd better be getting back to my apartment."
"Luke," Rath said as the young Jedi rose and headed for the door. Luke turned and waited expectantly. Rath clasped his hands and looked at them briefly, then said in a voice that seemed to resonate, "Come here tomorrow, at around eight. I have something to show you."
Luke's brow wrinkled a little in confusion. Then he nodded and walked out of the Jedi's Choice, wondering what was happening. In the oddest way, Rath reminded him of Obi Wan Kenobi.
The shimmering spirit of Yoda was in his apartment when he arrived, standing by the window and leaning on his cane. Yoda came often to visit the young Jedi. Ben did as well, as did Qui-Gon Jinn and Anakin Skywalker, Luke's father.
"Well are you?" Yoda demanded.
Luke collapsed onto a sofa. "Yes. I'm tired."
Yoda sighed and shook his head. "No reason to be tired, you have. Much work, you have."
"I'm tired," Luke repeated, pulling a pillow over his head. When he emerged, Yoda had vanished, replaced with a tall, bearded man who was leaning over him. "Hello?" Qui-Gon Jinn said with a wide grin. "Will you deign to talk to an old Jedi?"
Luke groaned and shifted. "Yes, Master Jinn?"
The specter stood back as Luke swung his legs off the sofa and assumed the look of a sick puppy. Qui-Gon looked at Luke critically, as if looking through him. "Hung over?" he asked.
"A little," Luke admitted.
"I was, once," Qui-Gon said, sitting down on the sofa and resting his large hands on his knees.
"You?" Luke asked, a little astonished. He hadn't known Qui-Gon for long, but he knew that the venerable Jedi was not the first person he could imagine getting drunk.
"Once, and only once," Qui-Gon said ruefully. "I wanted to see what it felt like. And Master Yoda," he rubbed at his eyes, "had no pity on me. His reprimands are hard enough in complete sobriety; with a splitting headache, it was like someone was playing drums on my head."
Luke grinned. "Where did he go?"
"He figured that I might be able to talk to you better than he could." Qui-Gon shrugged. "I guess he was right."
"Talk? About what?"
Qui-Gon sighed. "About the Jedi Knights who still exist."
"Still exist?"
"In every plague, every massacre, there are always survivors, Luke," Qui-Gon said sternly, in what Luke had designated a "Master" tone of voice.
There was a long silence. Luke stared at his lap, feeling Qui-Gon's intense gaze on the side of his head. "Master Jinn," he said slowly. "I've been wondering... how did you die? Was it... because of my father? I know that you knew him."
A deep chuckle answered him. "No, Luke. I died years before your father turned, at the hands of a Sith apprentice."
"Who?" Luke asked.
"That's enough," Qui-Gon said, rising to his feet. He began to glow greener, shimmering with an otherworldly light. "You need to sleep. You have a big day tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Luke repeated, feeling a bit like a parrot. It occurred to him that during the more cryptic discussions he had with the deceased Jedi Knights, his intelligence seemed to diminish. "What's so special about... oh please!"
Qui-Gon dissolved into the air like a mist. Luke slumped back, groaning a little and scrubbing at his face. "I wish," he whispered to himself, "that I could lock someone up until they tell me everything!"
The Jedi's Choice was closed the next day, abnormally early, and a "For Sale" hologram was in the doorway. Luke, shrouded in his Jedi robe now, cursed and smacked the window with his hand.
As if on cue, a rather tarnished protocol droid emerged from the front door. "I'm KV-78. You are Master Luke Skywalker?" it twittered in a high-pitched female voice.
"Yes, that's right," Luke replied dubiously, recognizing it as a server droid that Rath employed to help with the numerous customers. "What's going on? Why is Rath selling the club? Is he in trouble? Is he sick?"
KV-78 turned uneasily back to the club. "He's not ill, or in visible trouble. In fact, he seems quite happy, and has been anticipating your visit all day. If you could determine what the factors are, I would be quite grateful."
"I'll do my best," Luke replied, stepping in.
Rath's full-throated voice boomed through the club as he belted out the lyrics of what sounded like a Wookiee hunting song. Luke winced a little, and like magic the singing stopped. Rath's white head poked out of a back room, face wreathed in smiles. "Luke, m'boy! Come in, come back here!"
Between his conversation with Qui-Gon Jinn and Rath's current ebullience, Luke was beginning to feel extremely confused. He bit down on his confusion and stepped behind the bar and into the door. On the other side was a house-suite, comfortable but spartan. A bathroom, bedroom, and living room.
Rath was sitting on a low couch, similar to the one in Luke's apartment. "Sit down, Luke. I have something very important to tell you."
As Luke sat down, Rath rose and walked over to the wall, where a huge framed holo of trees blowing in the wind was hung. He unhooked the pictured and pulled a carved, ancient-looking wooden box from the hole inside. He blew dust off the top. "I understand you spoke with... Qui-Gon Jinn last night."
Luke's jaw fell open. How could Rath have known that?
"Remarkable man. Really remarkable. When I was young, I looked up to him as everything I wanted to be," Rath continued, his casual tone becoming more solemn.
"You..." Luke said, light beginning to dawn.
The Force seemed to explode from the older man as he opened the box and pulled out a sleek lightsaber from the velvet lining. "Yes, Luke," he said quietly. "I am a Jedi."