What is a Jedi?

When a Force sensitive is interviewed for training in the Jedi academy, a common question is "What is a Jedi?" The question is there for two reasons. One is to give the interviewer a chance to catch misconceptions about the Jedi — there are a lot of those in the galaxy. But the second reason is more important. The question is posed in order to make the applicant think about what he or she really thinks a Jedi is. Of course, there is no simple answer to the question. This article does not presume to answer the question either; instead it is intended to make the readers think about it. The article relates four short stories, episodes in people's lives. If any of the people in the story are Jedi? You decide.

20/7 217 ABY, Yavin IV

There was a shout from the lecture hall and a padawan rushed over there. Entering he saw a group of people. Two men dressed in black robes and cloaks were arguing with a young man, possibly a newly arrived padawan. The older padawan knew what it was he saw — he had seen it before. The two men were Sith, a master and an apprentice. They had come to Yavin in search of minds to taint, to turn to the dark side. Behind the two Sith were two more padawans, boiling with emotions at the Siths' taunts. It was not necessary to draw on the Force to sense the anger in the room, but doing so revealed another emotion to the older padawan — satisfaction. The Sith master was clearly enjoying sensing the anger in the young Jedi students.

The padawan's concentration was distracted by the snap-hiss of a light-sabre activating behind the Sith master. The green blade, that in the past indicated a Jedi consular, was lifted in an attack pose. The Sith master turned around slowly while his apprentice instantly activated his crimson light-sabre. In a heart-beat, the tension in the room tripled in strength. The Sith master spoke: "So, you peaceful Jedi draw weapons behind peoples back?" It was clear that he was completely satisfied with the waves of anger pulsating from the young padawan who had activated his weapon. "Please, everyone, deactivate your weapons", the voice of the older padawan was calm and collected. The Sith master instructed his apprentice to obey and he immediately did. The young padawan glared at the older, weapon still lifted, but when the calm rippled through his wall of anger, he deactivated it. Then it happened. A squad of four storm troopers arrived, weapons drawn. The second they came in they assumed hostile postures, training their blaster rifles on the two men dressed in black. The older padawan, as well as the two Sith sensed their anger. "Lower your weapons, please". The cold, metallic voice from behind the troopers helmet hissed "No — I don't take orders from you, padawan" the tension in the room was almost overwhelming. The Sith master was glowing with delight, feeding off the anger. The padawan weakened, his strength left him and he fell to his knees, desperately channelling all available strength in an attempt to spread a feeling of calm into the room around him. But the anger was too strong. His vision became blurred and as the first blaster fire was reflected back from the light-sabre of the Sith master, he collapsed on the floor, all senses fading away.

3/1 23 BBY, Tattooine

"You will pay for your theft you hutt-spawn!"
"Who are you calling hutt-spawn you nerf-herder. If you can't look after your ship, you don't deserve to own it!"

The argument had been escalating for some time. It had started with an attempted theft of a small transport ship in the docks of Anchorhead, Tattooine. The ship thief had been caught red-handed and thrown out of the ship onto the hard, dusty sand outside in the dock. The loud yelling was starting to draw a cautious crowd, curiously but carefully people came into the landing area.

"But I did look after it, I caught you didn't I, lizard-head?" There was a glittering reflection of the harsh sun in the barrel of a blaster as the trandoshan drew it from it's holster. A second flash and the two men were both staring down the barrels of blasters. A calm voice in the crowd spoke "Calm down, lower your weapons" A man stepped out of the crowd and walked, quickly without hesitation, and stopped between the two men. Two blasters pointing directly at his head at point blank range, the man extended his arms, keeping the two combatants apart. They were both stunned by the unexpected turn the whole thing had taken. The adrenaline was still pumping; their brains were struggling to understand what was happening. The crowd turned completely silent, as if no one dared to even breathe. The newcomer was clearly unarmed but the intense collected calm he was radiating was more powerful than any weapon could have been. Both aggressors slowly returned to reality as the adrenaline was fading away. Instead of returning to the violence, they felt calm — slowly lowering their blasters. The ship-thief started to back away and the crowd silently opened up to let him pass out of the landing area and slowly walk away. The ship owner looked at his blaster for a few seconds before returning it to its holster. There was a whisper of relief in the crowd. The ship owner looked at the strange man who was still standing before him. He wore simple, but elegant and clean clothing. He was a human, about 45 years old. His hands, now folded on his slightly large belly, still radiating calm. "Who are you?" asked the ship owner. "Oh, just nobody, I work for the port authorities, but I find that leaving the uniform in the locker works better when trying to keep the peace around here". "Please try to keep that thing holstered next time, good day to you sir".

12/5 117 ABY, Dantooine

It was early morning, the day was already warm and the kath hounds were howling in the distance. On a small farm, some distance from the old town of Koonda, a farmer's wife prepared to go into the town. In addition to the meagre harvest the farm had yielded, she packed a set of old clothing on the battered speeder. As she was making the same journey she made every week, every month, every year, she was thinking — the thoughts too had become old and all too familiar. "I miss you husband" she said out loud. It had been late evening, seven years earlier, when the mandalorian raiders had been waiting for him as he returned from the fields. They left nothing but his lethally wounded body for the kath hounds to finish off.

As the woman approached the gates of Koonda, she was snapped out of her deep thoughts, adjusting the course to avoid the turrets placed to guard against kath hounds, raiders and worse. As she signalled her identification, the gates opened and she drove straight into the town market place. She was early, only a few traders had set up their booths and started to lay out their merchandise. Half an hour later, the market place was teeming with activity. Goods changed hands, some in exchange for other goods, and some for new republic credits. After the long, hot day, the woman had managed to sell almost all of her stock, earning almost enough credits to last the coming week. She packed up the remains on her speeder but did not immediately return to her farm. Instead she took out the bundle of old clothes, put the last of the fresh bread, some vegetables and a bottle of water into a bag and left her speeder in the market place.

Koonda was a poor town, but even in poor towns, there are always those who are poorer than others. The woman made her way into the most worn down part of town, looking sadly at the derelict houses, long left by their original owners and now home to vermin, insects ...and the most unfortunate. Empty eyes were watching the woman as she walked on. She stopped in front of a child lying on the remains of a porch. The child looked up at the woman with pale, weak eyes as she sat down next to his tiny, fragile body. She put some water from the bottle on a cloth and cleaned his face. She took the food from the bag and offered it to the child who frantically ate it all. "Slow down" the woman said. "No need to rush, no one will take the food away… this time". The boy didn't hear her, he had learned not to leave anything to chance — when there is food, eat it before someone else does. The woman put a comforting hand on the boys shoulder, but withdrew it as he winced.

When the food was gone, to the very last crumb, the boy fell into a restless sleep. The woman took out the bundle of clothes and draped an old robe over the boy as a blanket. She put the rest of the bundle under his head as a pillow, hoping that nobody would steal it from him. She sat silent, watching the boy sleep for an hour before she slowly stood up and returned to her speeder and her farm — tomorrow was another day in the fields.

25/7 217 ABY, Yavin IV

Chaos was everywhere. Shouts, screams, the angry hum of light sabres, the screeching as blades met, blaster fire in the distance and sobbing cries. Wounded and dead scattered over the temple grounds.

Sweat was breaking out on the forehead of a young knight and a tendril of blood was running from his left temple across his eye, giving his view a red tint. He had been battling a Sith lord for over ten minutes, blocking and parrying and he felt his strength slipping away from him. He still felt the calmness of the Force, but the adrenaline was pumping, feeding something else. He knew that the Sith lord was also weakening, this knowledge fuelled an emotion, a pure desire to defeat the enemy. As he let go of the peace, his moves became more aggressive. He was now shifting the balance, the Sith lord was being pushed back. A daring sequence of ferocious attacks ended with the back of his sabre hilt hitting the face mask of the Sith with tremendous force, shattering it and leaving sharp pieces embedded deep inside the pale skin of the Sith lords face. The lord staggered backwards, lost his balance for a fraction of a second. That was enough time, the young knight made a wide slash with his blue blade across the chest of the lord, but even in his weakened state, the lord managed to take another step back. The slash only graced him. But the extra step backwards made the Sith lord stumble, he fell on his back, dropping his light sabre — he was defeated. The young knight was standing over the fallen lord, boiling with his new strength. He changed the grip on his, still active sabre, holding it like a dagger, blade pointing straight down and in one swift move, the knight kneeled beside the lord, striking his weapon deep into the heart of his fallen foe. There was a short gurgle, but the knight heard nothing.

Apan Loon,
Exiled padawan of NOJ

Note: This article was written by the Jedi student known as Apan Loon while he was living in voluntary exile, away from the academy on Yavin IV on July 26th of the year 217 ABY ((2007)). The manuscript was found on a data pad by lady Loross Straaf, Jedi of NOJ, several months after his death.

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