Qui-Gon wouldn't like this planet no matter how idyllic the climate but all the sand doesn't help.
"Doing all right, R2?"
Qui-Gon wouldn't like this planet no matter how idyllic the climate but all the sand doesn't help.
"Doing all right, R2?"
"As my Padawan, you'd live and travel with me, accompanying me on missions when it's safe. I'd teach you how to commune with the Force, and how to accomplish new things with your powers. Right now my focus is on the situation with Naboo and Enarc, so we'd spend most of our time there, or in Corusant protecting Queen Amidala while she spoke to the Galactic Senate. The Jedi also have our own culture and way of life, our own philosophies about how and why we use the Force, and a code of conduct, all of which I would teach you about. You'd be able to learn, not just from me, but from other Jedi, and you'd have access to some of our Archives, which can also teach you about the Force."
"Some Jedi believe that independent study of the Force, or traditions other than our own, are too dangerous to be ethically permissible. I am not one of them, and if it becomes necessary I will protect your right to leave. If you do decide to leave, as I say, I am willing to teach you as much as you are interested in learning in my capacity as a friend and mentor."
She thinks, humming. "That sounds good, yeah," she says, after a couple moments. "You're neat, and I think I'd like learning from you."
"I'm glad you think so," Qui-Gon says. "You're older than children usually are when the Jedi Council prefers to take them on, so they may take some convincing, but I believe they can be convinced."
"Six to ten, traditionally. Sometimes younger, if they're particularly precocious with the Force; rarely ever older."
"Huh."
"I'm probably somewhere between ten and fourteen? But mom hasn't really tracked that, especially before we ended up on Tatooine, so I don't think anyone can be super sure."
"That sounds right," Qui-Gon says. "You may at some point be obliged to select an age to declare yourself as on paperwork, but the Council won't be that concerned with minutia, I don't think."
"The formalities can wait until we reach Coruscant," Qui-Gon says. "I'm happy to consider you my Padawan now. I can even start your lessons, if you don't have anything else to attend to."
He settles in, and they begin.
"When we first met I described the Force to you as a field of energy, thought, and intention," he says. "It permeates the Galaxy and all living beings in it. Anyone can hear it, or speak to it, and most people do, sometimes; but it takes training, usually within an existing tradition, to do much more than that. Traditionally, the Jedi focus their efforts on cases of exceptional sensitivity, like yourself."
She hums. "Why not teach everyone? Or try to, eventually - even if teaching people's really hard, if every teacher teachers two future teachers, you could get really really big over time."
He smiles. "In fact, the number of Jedi is growing, though not quite doubling with every generation. But many Jedi feel it isn't wise to teach as many people as we possibly can."
"In part, for the same reason we don't hand everyone in the Galaxy weapons, or warships. The Force can be a powerful tool and a dangerous weapon. It - is like a person, and I believe it wants good things. But it's not perfectly good, and it can't turn its users to perfect goodness."
"Another reason is that the Force does not have just one nature. Jedi have found within the force much light and goodness and healing; but in our studies and meditation we've also perceived darkness and pain, hatred and jealousy, and the desire to lash out and hurt. It has what we call a Dark Side."
"Then you just fix stuff so people aren't hurting all the time, so it's safer for everyone to get trained."
He chortles fondly. "But in the meantime, it's important we're careful with ourselves and with the Force, as we learn to use it and to call on it. This is why the Jedi order has a code of conduct, and why certain things are forbidden to us."