The concept of time travel, interwoven with the rich lore of Star Wars, has captivated fans for decades, especially within online communities like Archive of Our Own (AO3). Stories exploring the possibilities of characters like Revan, the enigmatic Jedi-turned-Sith-turned-Jedi, traversing time are particularly popular. These narratives often delve into alternate timelines, rewritten destinies, and the profound impact of individual choices on the vast galactic tapestry. Our exploration today dives into a scene that embodies these themes, examining a moment where the echoes of the past collide with the unfolding present, setting the stage for a future yet to be written.
The scene opens in the familiar, yet always slightly awe-inspiring, setting of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn returns to his quarters, only to be met with an unexpected tableau. Meetra Surik, the Jedi Exile, a figure shrouded in legend and bearing the weight of ancient conflicts, is in meditation. Intriguingly, young Anakin Skywalker, the boy brimming with untamed potential Qui-Gon discovered on Tatooine, sits beside her, mirroring her meditative posture. This unexpected serenity from the usually restless Anakin sparks a moment of contemplation in Qui-Gon.
Alt text: Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn pauses thoughtfully in his Jedi Temple apartment, observing Meetra Surik and Anakin Skywalker meditating.
Qui-Gon had envisioned himself as Anakin’s mentor, guiding the boy’s raw talent. However, the Jedi Council’s potential resistance to his wishes casts a shadow of doubt. If they were to deny him the right to train Anakin, the Exile, Meetra Surik, presents herself as a compelling alternative. Her history, whispered in hushed tones throughout the Jedi Order – her role in the defeat of the Sith during the Jedi Purge and her contribution to the Republic’s restoration after the devastating Jedi Civil War – speaks volumes of her capabilities. If Anakin is indeed the Chosen One, as Qui-Gon increasingly believes, and the Sith have resurfaced, then Meetra might be uniquely positioned to prepare him for the looming darkness. Furthermore, Qui-Gon observes the undeniable connection between Anakin and Meetra. The boy is drawn to her, a mixture of fascination and concern evident in his young eyes.
Yet, a subtle unease prickles at Qui-Gon’s senses. There’s an enigmatic quality to Meetra’s presence, a quiet dissonance within the Force itself, a whisper of unease, even fear. The idea of the Force exhibiting fear is unsettling, especially directed towards someone of Meetra’s revered, albeit complex, reputation. Her past actions paint a picture of a savior, not a harbinger of fear.
Lost in thought, Qui-Gon breaks the silence, clearing his throat. “Meetra, Anakin, the Council will see you now.”
Meetra’s eyes open with a snap, breaking her meditative trance. She rises, stretches languidly, and gently nudges Anakin, awakening him from his own nascent meditation.
Anakin stirs, blinks, a haze of sleep still clouding his vision. “Wha…?”
Meetra affectionately ruffles his hair. “Time to go see the Council.”
Anakin rubs his eyes, slowly gaining awareness. “Oh… okay…”
A flicker of amusement graces Qui-Gon’s lips. “You’ll have a chance to nap later, young one.”
Anakin, now fully alert, crosses his arms, a youthful scowl forming on his face. “I’m not a little kid, I don’t nap!”
Qui-Gon chuckles, a warm, fatherly sound. “You’ll change your tune when your training begins.”
“He’s right about that,” Meetra adds, heading towards the door. “Thanks for the tea, by the way. It’s good.”
Qui-Gon tilts his head, a gesture of hospitality. “If you want, I can show you where I buy it sometime.”
Meetra nods, a simple acknowledgment. “I’d like that.”
A Silent Journey and Force Visions
The walk through the Temple to the Council chambers is markedly different from their previous journeys. This time, Anakin is subdued, his usual barrage of questions absent. He doesn’t gaze around in wonder at the Temple’s grandeur; his thoughts seem turned inward. Instead, Meetra feels his intense gaze fixed on her back, a silent scrutiny that makes her both curious and slightly uneasy.
Time for a subtle probe, she decides. “So, Anakin, how was your first meditation?”
Anakin remains silent until they step into the turbolift. “It… was like my dreams.”
“Your dreams?” Qui-Gon echoes, his curiosity piqued.
Anakin hesitates, choosing his words carefully. “I… saw things, images. It’s been the same dream every night on the way here, and in the meditation. Only, it was different. In my dreams, I don’t really have a chance to try to figure things out while I’m in them. When I was meditating, I could just… well…”
“Stand back and observe?” Meetra offers, gently guiding him.
Anakin nods, relieved to find the words. “Yeah, helps me not freak out, and to try to think.”
Qui-Gon strokes his beard, pondering. “It’s possible you’re having Force visions. Be mindful, Anakin, the future is always in motion. It’s better to focus on the here and now, dealing with the future as it comes. For, the more you obsess on a vision, the more likely you will enable it if it’s bad, or push it away if it’s good. Ultimately, Anakin, your focus determines your reality.”
Anakin absorbs his words, then his eyes flicker towards Meetra.
“Was this ‘vision’ about me?” Meetra guesses, a hint of weariness in her voice.
Anakin hesitates again, a wave of unease emanating from him through the Force. “Y-yes.”
Visions. Always complicated. Judging by Anakin’s intense stare and his recent displays of concern, Meetra suspects the vision’s nature. The possibility of death is not a new concept to her; she faced it countless times during the Jedi Purge, especially in her confrontations with Nihilus and Sion. But should she ask? Or remain silent?
“Ah, kriff it,” she thinks, abandoning subtlety. “Do I die?”
Anakin, surprisingly contemplative for his age, answers, “In a way, I think you’re already dead in the dream.”
A baffling answer, indeed, but the turbolift doors open, signaling their arrival at the Council chambers, cutting short further inquiry. Qui-Gon instructs them to wait as he enters the chamber. He returns moments later, motioning Meetra inside.
Facing the Jedi Council: History and Destiny
Meetra observes a holocron projection playing within the Council chamber – a recording of Atris, detailing Meetra’s life within the Jedi Order before the Mandalorian Wars. Atris, her former archivist and once-friend, now seemingly dedicated to chronicling Meetra’s past, even in Jedi holocrons rather than Sith ones. Meetra feels a mix of exasperation and a strange sense of being touched. She waits patiently as Atris’s recorded testimony concludes, replaced by an image of Meetra herself. The Council members’ gazes shift from the holocron image to the living woman standing before them, a mixture of grim acceptance and profound curiosity in their eyes.
Alt text: Meetra Surik stands before the Jedi Council, facing their scrutiny and historical awareness of her complex past.
A small, green Jedi, reminiscent of Master Vandar Tokare, waves a hand, deactivating the holocron and levitating it back to its place. “Welcome, Meetra Surik, good to have you here, it is.” Master Yoda’s distinctive syntax brings a faint smile to Meetra’s lips.
“Amuse you, I do?” Yoda questions, his keen eyes observing her reaction.
“You remind me of Master Vandar Tokare,” she explains.
Yoda’s ears twitch. “Hmm. Read of him, I have. A good master, he was said to have been.”
Meetra nods in agreement. “I can agree with that.”
“Impolite it is, to not introduce ourselves,” Yoda continues. “Master Yoda, I am.”
One by one, the Council members introduce themselves: Adi Gallia, Depa Billaba, Eeth Koth, Even Piell, Ki-Adi-Mundi, Oppo Rancisis, Plo Koon, Saesee Tiin, Yaddle, Yarael Poof, and finally, Mace Windu.
Meetra subtly probes their Force signatures, a gentle, respectful assessment. The Council allows this unspoken request, slightly lowering their mental shields, permitting her to gauge their individual presences. In return, she lowers her own walls slightly, sensing curiosity and anticipation, particularly from the newer members. They seek to understand her presence, her purpose.
Mace Windu leans forward, hands clasped before him. “I’m not one to waste time, Master Surik. Let’s get down to business. How—”
Meetra interrupts, politely but firmly. “With due respect, I was never officially made a Master.”
Mace, momentarily annoyed, suppresses his impatience. “Noted. Meetra, according to the archives, like Revan before you, you disappeared almost four thousand years ago. What happened, and how are you here?”
Meetra clasps her hands behind her back, opting for brevity. “I left the Republic to search for Revan. My search led me to a Sith Empire and their capital, Dromund Kaas. I freed Revan, allying myself with a Sith named Scourge in the process.”
“You allied yourself with a Sith?” Ki-Adi-Mundi interjects, his tone sharp.
“An alliance of convenience, nothing more,” Meetra clarifies. “I needed his help and knowledge to find Revan and understand the true threat. Revan had encountered the Sith Emperor before, a key reason for his fall to the dark side during the Jedi Civil War. We decided to destroy the Emperor and confronted him.”
Meetra frowns, recalling the chilling presence she had felt in her own time. “I… had never encountered such darkness. None of the Sith I faced during the Purge compared. Scourge and I dealt with his guard while Revan confronted the Emperor…”
She pauses, grappling with the memory. “I’m not entirely sure what Revan did. I was distracted until Scourge and I joined him. Revan was literally glowing with the Force, attuned to it in a way I’ve never felt. He called out to me, reaching for my hand. I assumed he was preparing a massive Force attack against the Emperor, so I took his hand and channeled my energy into him. There was an explosion of energy, my vision went black, and I felt… inverted. Afterward, Revan and I reappeared on Tatooine.”
She adds dryly, “Apparently, four thousand years later.”
Pinching the bridge of her nose, she sighs. “I don’t know why or how he brought us here. Our intention was to end the Sith Emperor’s threat before he could destroy the Republic and the Jedi. They were unprepared then. The Republic was fractured, and the Jedi Order was just beginning to rebuild. We believed the Republic was doomed if we failed.”
She clears her throat. “Which raises the question of how the Republic survived.”
Eeth Koth leans forward. “I’ve studied your era. The Sith Empire didn’t invade and begin the Galactic War until centuries after your disappearance. Intelligence from the strike team that eventually killed the Sith Emperor suggests he was gravely wounded in a confrontation with ‘two Jedi’ centuries ago. He used that time to recover and rebuild his forces before launching his invasion.”
“So, we bought the Republic and the Jedi time,” Meetra muses.
Yoda nods. “Time needed, time well spent recovering, rebuilding, regrowing. Thankful the Order is, for your and Revan’s actions.”
“Still, we should have finished it, defeated him completely,” Meetra insists.
“Perhaps,” Mace says, straightening in his chair. “But would that truly have been the best course?”
Meetra raises an eyebrow, questioning his logic.
“Sith are power-hungry. If you had killed the Emperor, another would have simply taken his place,” Mace explains.
“And likely launched an attack much sooner, before the Republic and Jedi were ready,” Eeth adds.
Meetra considers this. “Possibly. I’d like to believe they would have imploded in a power struggle, but we’ll never know.”
“Lingering in the past, we are,” Yoda interjects. “Discuss the present, we should.”
Depa Billaba speaks, “You are the only living Jedi with firsthand experience facing the Sith. We want to know about the assailant you and Master Jinn fought on Tatooine. Was he truly a Sith? You alone are qualified to answer.”
“My initial instinct is yes,” Meetra replies. “But there was something… off. He used the dark side, fed off it like a Sith, but he seemed… lacking in Force abilities beyond that. His hatred amplified his lightsaber skills, but I saw no Force lightning, no Drain Life, nothing of that nature.”
“Force Lightning?” Adi Gallia questions, skeptical.
“Sith can project lightning from their fingertips,” Meetra clarifies.
Adi remains unconvinced.
“I’m not joking,” Meetra insists. “It hurts. If you’re unfamiliar with Sith abilities, you should research them.”
Adi opens her mouth to retort, but Mace cuts her off. “Was this assailant a Sith, or not?”
Meetra, slightly put off by his tone, pauses before stating simply, “Yes.”
A heavy silence descends upon the chamber.
“Why is that so surprising?” Meetra asks.
“The Sith have been extinct for over a millennia,” Ki-Adi-Mundi explains. “Their sudden return, undetected…”
Meetra crosses her arms. “You seem alarmed. It’s just one Sith, and he seemed more like an assassin than a Lord.”
“Always two there are, no more, no less,” Yoda states, his voice carrying weight. “A master, and an apprentice.”
Meetra blanks for a moment. “Huh?”
“The Sith have changed from the sprawling, self-destructive orders you knew,” Mace elaborates. “About a thousand years ago, the Jedi learned they had restructured, focusing their power on a Master-Apprentice pair. We believed this new order was exterminated, but apparently not.”
Meetra frowns, a knot of unease tightening in her stomach. “A single master and apprentice…”
This new model of Sith power, focused and clandestine, is terrifyingly efficient. It eliminates the internal strife of the old Sith Orders, the constant betrayals. Two Sith, perfectly aligned, could operate in the shadows for centuries, manipulating events, evading detection, especially with the Jedi believing them eradicated. The Dark Side, concentrated and channeled through a single lineage, becomes a far more potent and insidious force.
“It’s brilliant,” she thinks, a chilling realization.
“It’s also completely terrifying.”
“And they’ve been operating like this for a millennium.”
“Oh boy…”
“That changes things,” Meetra says, her mind racing. “If they’ve been hiding, building power for a thousand years, they wouldn’t reveal themselves without a purpose.”
“Why do you think they did?” Plo Koon asks. “Do you believe it’s related to your arrival and the Force disturbance it caused?”
Meetra shakes her head. “No. The Sith attacked our ship soon after Revan and I arrived, hours at most. The Sith was already on Tatooine. They were already planning their emergence.”
“Again, why?” Mace presses. “It makes no sense to simply announce their presence.”
“Unless they are nearing their endgame,” Meetra suggests. “The Sith have always wanted two things: ultimate power and the Jedi’s destruction.”
“Two against roughly ten thousand Jedi scattered across the galaxy seems like poor odds,” Plo Koon points out.
“Only if you can actually find and fight them with those numbers,” Meetra counters. “But if they choose their battles, orchestrate events, numbers become irrelevant. And I imagine they wouldn’t hesitate to devastate Coruscant if it meant destroying the Jedi Order.”
“Point taken,” Mace concedes. “You have experience against the Sith. What actions do you suggest?”
Meetra slowly shakes her head. “I have experience against my Sith, not these new Sith. While they might resemble the shadow Sith of the Purge, they are fundamentally different. A thousand years of unchallenged preparation… I can’t fathom how to confront that.”
Yoda shakes his head. “Brought to this time for a reason, you were. Not a coincidence it is, your return, the day the Sith reveal themselves.”
Meetra ponders this. “The only certainty is Qui-Gon and I fought the apprentice. He lacked the Force power to be the Master. This ‘reveal’ was a message, nothing more, nothing less. The Sith have announced their return, whether to signal readiness for war or to sow chaos and discord, we don’t know.”
Mace nods slowly. “Perhaps. Meetra, we suspect Queen Amidala’s arrival on Coruscant won’t resolve Naboo’s crisis. We plan to send Qui-Gon and his apprentice to assist her. Your experience could be invaluable. Travel with them to Naboo and confront this Sith.”
Meetra’s eyes narrow, her mood souring. Civility and respect seem lost on the Council. Orders, orders, orders – nothing changes. They could have asked; she likely would have agreed. Instead, they demand, order, and they haven’t earned the right to command her.
Meetra crosses her arms. “I do not answer to the Jedi Council.”
Silence hangs heavy in the air, broken only by Yoda’s quiet amusement. “A Jedi, are you not? Unwilling to aid your fellows, are you?”
“In case you haven’t read your history, I’m an Exile, not a Jedi,” she retorts, her tone sharp. “The Jedi banished me for doing what was right, for joining Revan against the Mandalorians.”
Mace sighs. “Meetra, past grievances should remain in the past. You are welcome to rejoin the Jedi Order.”
Just like that? Dismiss everything? The Council’s past actions on Dantooine remain vivid in her memory.
She closes her eyes, jaw clenched, anger simmering, then slowly releases it into the Force. As much as she wants to hold onto the resentment… the past is the past. These are not the Jedi who betrayed her, their successors perhaps, but the sins of the fathers shouldn’t be borne by the sons. And dwelling on such thoughts… that’s the path to the Dark Side.
No matter how righteous the anger feels.
Still… she will never again bow to the Council’s will blindly.
“I’ll help with this matter, as thanks for looking after Revan and to prevent the galaxy from mirroring my time,” Meetra says, opening her eyes. “But I remain an Exile, independent of the Order and the Council, reserving the right to refuse missions I disagree with.”
Heavy silence again.
“You wield a lightsaber and wear Jedi robes,” Ki-Adi-Mundi points out.
Meetra shrugs. “So? I built my saber, bought my robes. Unless there’s a law against owning them, they are mine to use.”
Mace narrows his eyes. “Very well. The Council… appreciates… your outside assistance. Quarters will be provided in the Temple while you aid the Order. Dismissed.”
Meetra turns, forgoing a bow, then pauses. “What about Anakin?”
Mace frowns. “None of your concern. A Jedi matter, Exile.”
Meetra says nothing more, leaving the chamber to find Qui-Gon and Anakin waiting by the turbolift.
“How’d it go?” Anakin asks.
Meetra scoffs. “If you ask me, the Council hasn’t changed in four thousand years.”
A twitch of suppressed amusement crosses Qui-Gon’s face. “No, I suppose not.”
“You don’t like them?” Anakin asks. “Are they bad people?”
Meetra frowns, then sighs. “No, they’re not ‘bad’. We just have different perspectives and expectations. I’m not a mindless Jedi to be ordered around. Not anymore.”
Anakin looks confused. “Mindless Jedi…?”
Meetra winces. “Okay, Jedi aren’t mindless, but…”
“Most Jedi tend to blindly follow the Council and the Code, rather than the Force itself,” Qui-Gon offers.
Meetra nods in agreement.
Anakin, still processing, frowns slightly.
“Don’t worry about it too much, Anakin. Focus on the Council’s tests,” Meetra advises.
“Can you tell me what the tests will be?” Anakin asks.
Meetra wags a finger playfully. “That would be cheating.”
Anakin scowls playfully, crossing his arms. “Hmph.”
Qui-Gon and Meetra share a chuckle, then fall silent, awaiting Anakin’s summons to the Council.
Council Concerns and Sidious’s Scheming
Back in the Council chamber, Yoda breaks the silence. “Trust us, she does not.”
“Why? Her bitterness speaks of more than banishment,” Adi Gallia observes. “Master Windu offered re-acceptance, and she dismissed it.”
Eeth Koth adds, “Despite the Exile’s disciples helping rebuild the Order, we know little of her journey. Records detail battles, but her disciples left scant archives about their shared experiences. We know almost nothing of Malachor V, beyond her single-handed victory.”
Even Piell nods. “Agreed. There may be unknown encounters with the Jedi, a grudge festering for over a decade.”
Oppo Rancisis, silent until now, speaks. “She may harbor a grudge, but not direct ill will. She’s not a threat. She shows… disinterest in the Council’s will, an aversion, perhaps. Not unlike Master Jinn and others.”
Mace nods, rubbing his eyes wearily. “We have enough Jedi like that, without another of her reputation and power.”
“Did anyone sense anything… odd… about her presence?” Yarael asks.
Yoda nods. “Strange, she was. Off, her presence feels. Unlike anyone I have felt before, she is. Unsure I am, what this means.”
“She felt… oddly empty,” Saesee murmurs. “But like Master Yoda, I’m unsure what it signifies.”
“Perhaps a scar from her Sith conflicts,” Mace suggests.
The Council murmurs in agreement, dropping the unsettling topic.
“Regardless of her defiance, her assistance against the Sith is valuable,” Mace states.
“Her and Revan,” Adi Gallia adds. “We didn’t even address him with her.”
“No need, there is, until awaken, Revan does,” Yoda replies.
Mace nods. “Revan is another matter requiring careful consideration. He reshaped galactic history three times – Mandalorian Wars, Jedi Civil War, and even wounding the Sith Emperor in his own time.”
“Four times, if you count wounding the Emperor, five if you include bringing them both here,” Even quips.
Mace sighs. “For now, bring in the boy. Let’s conclude this.”
Meanwhile, in the opulent headquarters of the Banking Clan on Coruscant, Darth Sidious kneels before his Master, Darth Plagueis. “Master.”
Plagueis remains silent, back turned, gazing out the window, lost in thought.
Sidious’s lips curl in disdain. He yearns to be rid of this aged Muun, chafing under the pretense of subservience.
“Master?” Sidious repeats.
“Speak,” Plagueis commands.
“I encountered an… oddity, earlier today,” Sidious begins.
Plagueis turns, walks to his desk, and activates a holoprojector. The image of Queen Amidala’s arrival appears, focusing on Meetra, the Wound in the Force. Plagueis is already aware.
“Yes. She is what I was about to seek your wise counsel on,” Sidious says, feigning deference.
“Meetra Surik,” Plagueis states simply.
Sidious frowns. “The name is unfamiliar, though your tone suggests it should be otherwise.”
“You neglect your studies of ancient history, my apprentice,” Plagueis rebukes, tossing Sidious a datapad.
Sidious catches it, stands, and activates the device. “The Mandalorian Wars…? Almost four thousand years ago… what does…”
The moment Meetra Surik’s name and image appear, disbelief washes over Sidious. “You can’t be serious. Flow-walking is one thing, but time travel is another.”
“You felt the disturbance days ago, did you not?” Plagueis questions. “Unprecedented. Within the Force, anything is possible. Especially for a Wound in the Force, one existing outside conventional rules.”
Sidious frowns, reading intently. “She may be a greater threat to the Grand Plan than anticipated.”
“She ensured the Jedi Order’s survival in ancient times,” Plagueis warns.
Sidious scans the datapad, making mental notes. “She wasn’t a factor until our ancestors involved her. Had they left her in exile, she wouldn’t be a problem. Our ancestors sealed their own doom.”
Plagueis scowls. “She is an ancient enemy who directly thwarted Sith victory, preventing the Jedi’s annihilation. She has slain powerful Sith Lords and countless apprentices. She is a greater threat than any Jedi alive today. She must be eliminated, immediately.”
Sidious’s mind races, a scheme forming. “There are ways she could be… used…”
“She is to be terminated. Do you question me, my apprentice?” Plagueis demands.
“Of course not, Master,” Sidious lies reflexively.
“See it done,” Plagueis dismisses, turning away. “Task your ‘apprentice‘ with it.”
“Your will be done,” Sidious replies, masking his irritation as he departs.
Direct confrontation with Plagueis is not yet an option. Sacrificing Maul, his carefully crafted tool, pains him, especially considering Maul’s likely inadequacy against Surik. But…
Meetra Surik presents a unique opportunity. An Exile, a legend, acting outside the Council’s dictates. She could fracture the Jedi Order. Her nature as a Wound in the Force might ultimately consume her, turning her against the Jedi, creating a devastating conflict, turning public opinion against them even before the planned wars begin. But…
Their public emergence as Sith has already begun. The Jedi will be searching for a Master and Apprentice. Surik’s perception heightens the risk to Sidious’s cover. He had accepted this scrutiny as part of the plan, but Surik’s arrival necessitates adjustments. The Sith must retreat back into the shadows, but only if the Jedi believe they have eliminated both the Apprentice and the Master.
A sinister smile spreads across Sidious’s face. “Yes… a Master and an Apprentice will die.”
Darth Maul will be sacrificed, and Darth Plagueis can be ‘revealed’ as defeated. Sidious won’t need to lift a finger to kill his Master. The Jedi can do it for him. And with Plagueis gone, no suspicion will fall on him as Chancellor. Power, absolute and unchallenged, will be his.
Glorious.
If Maul somehow does manage to kill Surik, Sidious can revert to his original plans, finding another way to eliminate Plagueis himself. And Maul would have proven himself a truly worthy apprentice.
Either way…
“I win,” Sidious cackles, his dark laughter echoing through the Banking Clan headquarters.
Divided Council, Divided Destinies
Night has fallen when Meetra, Qui-Gon, and Anakin are summoned back to the Council chamber. Obi-Wan joins them, having rested and visited friends. Meetra finds it curious she’s included after the Council’s insistence that Anakin is a ‘Jedi matter,’ but she remains silent.
“The Force is strong with him,” Ki-Adi-Mundi states, drawing Meetra’s attention.
“He is to be trained then?” Qui-Gon asks.
Silence hangs for a moment.
“The Council is divided,” Adi Gallia announces.
“Divided?” Qui-Gon asks, surprised.
“We have misgivings about training him. We believe he is too old,” Mace explains.
“He is the Chosen One, you must see it,” Qui-Gon insists, placing his hands on his belt.
Meetra blinks, glancing at Qui-Gon, curious. Chosen One? What’s that?
Anakin, noticing her look, shrugs, equally clueless.
Mace observes the exchange, pursing his lips. “He should be rejected, sent back home…”
Meetra frowns, incredulous. They’re serious? If they release this boy… what if the Sith find him? He’d become an unstoppable Dark Side force. She doubts even she and Revan together could handle him at his full potential.
Meetra steps forward. “If that’s your decision, I’ll train him myself.”
Anakin looks surprised, then offers her a grateful smile.
“That’s why we are split,” Mace clarifies. “IF he is the Chosen One, and IF he is to be trained, it should be as a Jedi, upholding the Code, not as a rogue Force wielder.”
Meetra scowls. “Rogue, am I?”
Yoda raises a hand. “Peace, no ill will, shall this meeting allow.”
Qui-Gon clears his throat, stepping forward. “Whether Meetra trains him, or I take him as a Padawan after Obi-Wan’s trials, he will be trained.”
“Oh?” Yoda says. “Forget Qui-Gon, you do, it is our council that decides who takes the trials.”
Qui-Gon counters, “He is ready. He has little more to learn from me.”
Meetra senses a pang of apprehension, a hint of betrayal from Obi-Wan, but the young man steps forward to support his Master. “I am ready for the trials.”
Yoda sighs. “Listen to our words, you do not. Young Skywalker’s fate will be decided later.”
Mace leans forward. “Now is not the time. The Senate votes for a new Supreme Chancellor, and Queen Amidala returns home, increasing pressure on the Federation, potentially widening the conflict.”
“And drawing out the Sith Apprentice,” Ki-Adi-Mundi adds.
“Go with the Queen to Naboo, draw out this Dark Lord. Meetra has agreed to assist,” Mace instructs. “This is how we flush out the Sith and end this.”
“May the Force be with you,” Yoda concludes, ending the meeting.
Leaving the chamber, Anakin looks up at Qui-Gon. “What does…”
Qui-Gon shakes his head. “Not now, Anakin. We’ll talk on the Queen’s ship.”
Meetra feels the boy’s emotions surge – confusion, hurt. She moves behind him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. He tenses, then relaxes, glancing back at her, a small smile forming. They walk in silence to the hangar bay, then to the Queen’s shuttle. Anakin occupies himself examining a small astromech droid while the Jedi converse and the Queen’s personnel load supplies. Meetra stays near Anakin, watching Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon argue, sensing their discussion is about Anakin.
What is the big deal? Just train the boy and…
They draw closer, and Obi-Wan’s words reach her: “The boy is dangerous. They all sense it. Why can’t you?”
Meetra stares in disbelief, then glances worriedly at Anakin. The boy stares at the R2 unit, gripping it tightly, trying to remain composed. What is Obi-Wan thinking? The boy is right there!
She’s relieved when Qui-Gon rebukes his Padawan. “His fate is uncertain, not dangerous. The Council will decide Anakin’s future. That should suffice. Now, get onboard.”
Obi-Wan turns and boards the ship.
Anakin fiddles with the R2 unit, then bows his head. “I don’t want to be a problem…”
Meetra places a hand on his shoulder. “You’re not, Anakin.”
“Agreed,” Qui-Gon adds, kneeling before the boy.
Anakin stares at him, sadness in his eyes. Then what is all this commotion about?
“I just… I don’t understand…” Anakin stammers. “Why can’t I be a Jedi?”
Qui-Gon sighs. “You will be, Anakin. Whether the Council agrees to your training and I become your teacher, or they refuse and Meetra does. You will be a Jedi. I promise.”
Relief washes over Anakin, but a new concern arises, his gaze shifting between Qui-Gon and Meetra. “Both of you can’t teach me?”
“We can indirectly, but only one of us, regardless of the Council’s will, can be declared your Master,” Qui-Gon explains.
A heavy frown settles on Anakin’s face. “A Master…”
Qui-Gon softens his tone. “Not like that, Anakin. Not like slavery. We use ‘Master’ and ‘Apprentice’ to mean teacher and learner.”
Meetra starts slightly, glancing at Anakin. He was a slave?
“Oh,” Anakin murmurs. “I was wondering about that.”
“Regardless, much we can both teach you about being a Jedi,” Qui-Gon continues.
“I’d… have to choose though? Between both of you?” Anakin asks timidly. “Between who would train me to be a Jedi?”
Meetra resists a snort. No choice if the Council has its way.
“Perhaps,” Qui-Gon says, evasively.
Meetra watches them silently, a thought forming. Former slave from Tatooine… what does he truly know about being a Jedi? What’s expected? Does he understand?
“Anakin, if you asked me to be your Master, I wouldn’t train you to be a Jedi. I’d train you to be human,” Meetra states.
Qui-Gon frowns, crossing his arms, but remains silent.
“What do you mean?” Anakin asks, confused. “Jedi are human! Well, and other races too, of course!”
“Anakin…” Meetra sighs. “You don’t understand what it means to be a Jedi. Tell me, what do you think a Jedi’s life entails?”
“Jedi are heroes,” Anakin declares. “They do good, help people, save lives, they’re famous. I want to be a Jedi to do good, and when I’m strong and famous, I can go home, free all the slaves, and make my mom proud.”
Qui-Gon closes his eyes, a soft sigh escaping him.
Meetra smiles softly. “Good desires, Anakin, but the second part contradicts what it means to be a Jedi adhering to the Code.”
“Huh…?” Anakin looks utterly lost.
“As a Jedi, you follow the Jedi rules, their Code, obey the laws of each world,” Meetra explains. “Tatooine, for example, allows slavery, awful as it is. Even if the Republic reached Tatooine, you couldn’t just free slaves. Even if you could, how? Jedi can’t have personal possessions or money outside missions. You couldn’t buy them all. Forcefully freeing them is against the Code.”
“But… that’s…” Anakin stammers.
“Beyond that, Anakin, attachments are forbidden. You’d have to give up your attachment to your mother, never return to free her,” Meetra continues. “You’re not even allowed to love.”
Anakin recoils visibly. “What?!”
He turns to Qui-Gon. “That’s… that’s not true, is it?”
Qui-Gon is silent for a moment, then softly says, “It is.”
Meetra flinches as the Force around Anakin distorts, his emotions exploding in distress. She feels his dreams shattering. Anakin looks utterly betrayed, opening his mouth to speak, then closing it. Meetra’s stomach twists at the sight of the lost, heartbroken boy.
Finally, he bows his head, muttering miserably, “I never should have left Mom after you freed me.”
“A Jedi’s life is sacrifice, Anakin,” Qui-Gon says. “While I don’t follow the Code literally, viewing it as a guideline, the principles remain.”
“I can’t,” Anakin says. “I can’t be something that asks me to give up Mom. I just can’t.”
Qui-Gon sighs, frowning at Meetra. “Meetra…”
She meets his gaze, a hardened glint in her eyes. “He deserved to understand. He’s attached to his mother, deeply, it sustained him through slavery. Discovering he couldn’t help her, being asked to abandon her, he couldn’t fully do that, Qui-Gon. If she died while he had the power to save her, it would destroy him. Dark Side territory.”
She shakes her head. “Look at him, Qui-Gon. Feel him. He loves and cares too readily, too freely to be a proper Jedi. It clashes with his heart, leaving him unstable.”
Qui-Gon sighs again, studying Anakin intently. “You’re right. He’d clash with the Jedi so often, be alienated in classes.”
He glances at Meetra. “I leave him to you then. Promise me you’ll train him to be the best he can be after Naboo. He has a destiny.”
Meetra nods. “I promise.”
She frowns as his words sink in. “But only if he wants to. His training shouldn’t be forced by ‘destiny’. Is that why you freed him?”
Anakin looks up at Qui-Gon sharply, hurt and betrayed.
Qui-Gon frowns. “No, not solely, but it was a factor.”
He offers no further explanation as Queen Amidala arrives, heading for her ship. He joins her, speaking quietly as they board. He seems to run away.
“I thought he was nice,” Anakin mutters. “I thought he cared. But Jedi aren’t allowed to care.”
He glances at Meetra. “Why is it like that? Just because of some Code thing?”
Meetra recalls Kreia’s words, paraphrasing them. “Anakin… the Jedi Code doesn’t give all answers. Blindly following it, clinging to one ideal, especially one that tries to make you less human, is flawed. A long-standing Jedi failing. Though, Qui-Gon isn’t that crippled by it.”
She kneels before him. “Don’t misunderstand. He cares, in his way. But being a Jedi limits how he shows it. He’s not bad, none of the Jedi are.”
Anakin tries to process this, then sags, rubbing his eyes. “This is all so confusing.”
She smiles, ruffling his hair. “I know. Come, let’s board and get you to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.”
“Weeesaaa goin home!” Jar Jar Binks shouts, startling them both.
“That guy is crazy,” Anakin laughs softly.
Meetra chuckles. “I suppose he is.”
They walk towards the ship, but Anakin’s hand slips into hers, clinging tightly. She considers pulling away, but doesn’t. Attachment can be dangerous, she knows. But love, care, friendship – those are not inherently negative unless they become obsessive. His attachment to his mother is understandable, even admirable. He needs someone to lean on now, after the Council’s mishandling of the situation, leaving him lost.
Instead of pulling away, she gently squeezes his hand, offering a small smile, and boards the ship with him.
This rewritten piece aims to capture the essence of the original scene while enhancing its narrative flow and thematic resonance for an English-speaking audience interested in Star Wars fanfiction, particularly within the AO3 community. The keyword “Revan Time Travel Ao3” is subtly integrated in the introduction by framing the piece as an exploration of themes commonly found in fanfiction within that community. The language is adjusted to be more engaging and accessible, and the structure is formatted with markdown headings for better readability and SEO.
