What if Obi-Wan SAVED Anakin Skywalker on Mustafar

What if Obi-Wan saved Anakin Skywalker on Mustafar? Let's explore the depths of it in the video. >> It's over, Anakin. I have the high ground. >> You underestimate my power. Don't try it. [Music] Obi-Wan looks to Anakin, unable to comprehend the person he's become. Even after losing his limbs and grasping the coarse rocks of Mustafar with his robotic hand, his rage still burned within him. The thoughts begin toiling in Obi-Wan's mind. Where did I go wrong? How did it come to this? He remembers first seeing Anakin as a young boy on Tatooine, raising the boy as if he was his own, teaching him not only about the Force, about being a Jedi and skills with a saber, but life as a whole. No. No, he won't do it. He can't. He won't allow his best friend to meet his end this way. No matter what he's done, Anakin is redeemable, and he'll see to it. Obi-Wan sees the lava creeping up the edge of the river and knows he has to act fast. Before the lava can incinerate Anakin's skin, he reaches into the force and uses what energy he has left to lift Anakin into the air and places him at top the hill with him. >> Let me go. I hate you. >> Obi-Wan starts bringing Anakin back to his ship, sensing they can't stay here long. You're my brother, Anakin. I won't leave you here. I won't let you burn, no matter what you've done. But you must realize this isn't you. Killing younglings. Turning on the woman you love. The Anakin I know. The Anakin I raised would never in his right mind do such things. Not with a child on the way. The last comment hits Anakin harder than he anticipated. He can't bear to hear such things. Thoughts sprint through his mind trying to understand just how he's come to this point. The pain is too much emotionally more than physically, even with no limbs. Tears start to fall from his eyes as Obi-Wan brings him onto the ship. >> Obi-Wan, don't let her die. >> His body and mind can't take anymore, and he passes out. Obi-Wan brings Padme onto the ship as well, and just in time, too. As Obi-Wan takes off, he sees another ship enter the atmosphere and makes sure to enter hyperspace as fast as possible. Palpatine departs his ship and sees nobody there. He can't seem to understand what has happened. He sensed Vader was in trouble. He can still sense he's alive, just barely. But he's nowhere to be found. Some treachery is at hand. Obi-Wan must still have him. Commander, ready my ship. We're heading back. He's not here. The room is bright, washed, and sterile white light. Two beds in the surgical ward of Palace Masa sit side by side, separated only by a thin privacy screen that the droids have rolled away. On the left, Padme Amadala grips a medical railing, sweat pearling on her brow as a med droid coaxes her through the final pushes of labor. On the right, Anakin Skywalker lies strapped to an operating table, while miniature arc torches spark along the stumps of his legs and right arm, fusing durastel connectors to raw bone. Obi-Wan Kenobi paces tight circles between them, torn between relief and terror. The rhythmic hiss of life support and the distant echo of asteroid mining drills underscore every heartbeat. A low door slides open. Yoda, leaning on his gimmerstick, enters with Senator Bale Orana at his side. >> Steady breathing. Yes, that's it. One final contraction. >> Padme's cry crescendos. Moments later, a newborn's whale cuts through the operating hum. >> First child, male, healthy. >> Padme's exhausted smile falters when she turns her head and sees Anakin, conscious, eyes glassy, jaw clenched against the pain. Across the room, a cyber doctor seals the last magnetic clamp into Anakin's thigh. >> Attaching primary servo motors. Now, >> Anakin convulses once, then slumps. The techs ease him into a repulsor chair. Obi-Wan studies him, hands trembling. >> Annie, you're alive. >> Anakin meets her gaze, tears spilling freely. >> I I thought I'd lost you. >> A second infant's cry answers him. Second child, female, vital, strong. >> Obi-Wan releases a shuddering breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Yoda's ears dip in quiet relief. Moments later, the twins rest in Padme's arms. Anakin's repulsor chair hovers beside her bed. Obi-Wan, Yoda, and Bale form a semicircle. We have little time before the Emperor realizes Mustafa was a dead end. Anakin, we must tell them everything. Anakin forces himself upright, auditory servos worring. >> Palpatine, the Chancellor is the Sith Lord, Darth Cidius. He orchestrated the war, manipulated the Senate, the Council, everyone. Order 66, the purge, it's all him. He used Padme against me. The visions we spoke of, Master Yoda, it was Padme. I see now. It was all his manipulation. She's alive. She didn't die in childbirth like I saw. >> Bale's face hardens. >> I can't believe it. I can't believe it's come to this. >> Padme draws a ragged breath. >> Then we cannot simply hide. We need a narrative, a symbol to shift fear away from him. >> Yoda's eyes half closed. >> Blind we were. Me included. Symbol. Yes, but caution. We must use expose Palpatine too soon and crushed we will be. >> Padme strokes Luke's tiny hand, mind racing. >> What if we give him what he thinks he wants? Proof that his apprentice is dead. A body burned beyond recognition except for a single cybernetic arm. Let the galaxy think Anakin perished on Mustafar in an act of rebellion. Anakin looks down at the matte black prostesis bolted to his shoulder. >> "Stage my death. Create space for resistance to grow. It can work." >> Obi-Wan nods, piecing it together. We retrieve a fallen clone, feed him with spare cybernetics, torch the remains, and leave a message Palpatine can't ignore. Bale's strategist instincts flare. I can leak the story to trusted hol feeds. Public doubt is a blade, thin but sharp. >> Yoda lays a three-fingered hand on Anakin's new arm. >> Then train. You must heal. Balance the darkness within. Ours Qui-Gon's guidance you will need. >> Anakin closes his eyes, and for an instant, the faint warmth of his old master's presence dances across the force, steadying him. He's ready. Tell me what I must do, and I won't fail again. Early morning fog drifts over the Duracree square. Communicators freeze as clones cordon off a scorched crater. In its center lie blackened remains. A single mechanical arm outstretched in defiance. Crude Arabish letters seared into the plinth read, "Rebellion against the Empire. Holocams hover like carrying birds." >> Shocking developments in Monument Plaza. Charted remains believed to be those of Anakin Skywalker identified by a cyberon. Anonymous insurgents claim responsibility, calling the act of protest against Imperial tyranny. Speculation runs rampant. Is the hero with no fear truly dead. And what does this mean for Emperor Palpatines's grip now that the Clone Wars have ended? The massive Senate chamber is a storm of noise. Floating pods of senators swirl through the air like frantic birds, each shouting over the next. At the center, seated on the Chancellor's high rust, is Emperor Palpatine, cloaked in deep crimson, his face calm, but his yellowed eyes cold with fire. A colossal hologram flickers above him. The image of the charred remains supposedly belonging to Anakin Skywalker. The single cybernetic limb is unmistakable. >> Order. Order. We shall have order. A tragedy. A betrayal. This socalled hero with no fear slain in an act of rebellion by traitors who would see our empire fall before it can bring peace. Senator pods whirl in debate. Naboo pods float forward. Padmeala veiled in black rises to speak. >> Chancellor Emperor, with all due respect, this is not what my husband would have wanted. He was a Jedi. He served the Republic. He died a loyalist. Using his death to justify further consolidation of power dishonors his memory. >> Senator Amitala, your grief blinds you. The chaos in our streets. The whispers of insurrection. They demand action. Extraordinary measures. The Jedi betrayed us once. Now others rise in their place. He turns toward the center of the rotunda, projecting a new hollow map. Sectors flickering red where unrest bruise. To ensure galactic stability, I propose emergency decree 1,999. A full expansion of Imperial Security Bureau's authority, increased surveillance powers, and the right to suppress all unregistered political activity. >> You cloak fear in law and call it peace. But the Republic stood for something greater. Debate, liberty, freedom. The war is over. My husband may be gone, but I refuse to let his death be used to smother the freedoms he fought for. >> Be careful, Senator Amadala. In times such as these, words can become weapons, and weapons can be turned upon their wielders. >> Then aim well, your excellency, because I have no intention of staying silent. The proceedings were perfect. Palpatine played straight into their hand. The fire for rebellion was set. Anakin was the flint. While Padme remained an ever burning catalyst. 10 years later, dawn spills over the broken towers of an ancient Jedi outpost long forgotten in the forests of Osus. Vapor from nearby hot springs curls through half-crumbled archways, catching the wor of servo motors and the crackle of clashing blades. Anakin Skywalker, taller, leaner, his polished durast steel limbs moving in perfect harmony, drives a blinding flurry at his sparring partner. Obi-Wan counters, pivoting to a Sarosu wheel. Yoda, perched on a stone, thumps his gimmest stick in cadence while a faint blue silhouette of Qui-Gon Jinn hovers nearby, arms folded, eyes shining with pride. Stronger, yes. Quicker, yes. But balance remember heartg guiding hand. >> Flow with the living force, Anakin. Do not race it. Anakin steps back, deactivates his blade, and inhales. Both mechanical legs hiss for a heartbeat. Then still, the micro servos attune to every muscle twitch now after a decade of relentless drills. Still too rigid on the third parry. Again, I'd rather not lose breakfast a second time today, my friend. High overhead, a beacon pings. A single green button flashes on a nearby console. It reads, "Orana, priority 1." Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Yoda gather around a hollow table. Projections of Padme, Senator Bale, Orana, and Monothma materialize. We've intercepted Cot shipyard manifests. Project codes named Stardust. Palpatines's funneling trillions into a mobile battle station. The numbers imply something monstrous. Our cells grow daily, but even unified fleets can't challenge a weapon like that. >> Then we strike before it's christened. 10 years we've waited. The galaxy is ready, but it needs a spark. >> Anakin's jaw tightens. His cybernetic limbs spasm. He's been waiting 10 years for this moment. He's ready. Tell me where to find it. Obi-Wan Master Yoda and I will cut out the heart before this weapon sees the light of day >> and reveal that you're alive. Anakin, your death is still our shield. We have to keep you a secret. Let the rumors still run wild. The fear of your legend keeps Palpatine guessing. >> Yoda closes his eyes, reaching into the force. >> Shadows, your ally. They are strike unseen, then vanish. Hope in the people. It will kindle your mission. This must be, Skywalker. In exile, I must stay. Faith in you and Obi-Wan. I have. We'll need infiltration codes. Transponder routes. I know someone in the old clone intel core who might be able to help us. >> The moment nears, Anakin, destiny bends, but you decide its shape. Remember, balance is not the absence of darkness, but mastery of it. >> I'm ready, master. >> Bale and I will call an alliance to restore the Republic in full. And when the Emperor unveils his super weapon, the galaxy must already see the spark of resistance. >> Then may the Force be with us all. The transmission cuts. Silence falls amidst ancient stone and morning bird song. Obi-Wan offers a half smile. The same one from a decade past on a starship ramp. Well then, shall we plan to take down the largest weapon ever conceived? >> Master, after Mustafar, everything else is downhill. Downhill, perhaps, but a long hill it is. Your final test at hand. It is. Anakin and Obi-Wan arrive at a scheduled rendevous point on the outer rim. The landscape is scorched and windswept. An old separatist outpost long abandoned. Waiting there, clad in civilian gear, but still carrying the posture of a commander is Captain Rex. Well, took you both long enough. Anakin grins and pulls him into a rare embrace. Rex, it's good to see you, old friend. Likewise. I've been waiting for this moment since Order 66. I'll never forgive the Empire for what it made us do. I'm here to help in any way I can. But I have some bad news. Those infiltration codes and routes are meaningless now. The weapon, it's almost ready. What? Well, that's not good. How long until it's operational, Rex? 2 months, maybe less. But I have good news as well. Something better than the codes. He pulls out a sealed data capsule. blueprints. Full architectural and energy cycle plans for the weapon. Real deal. Anakin's eyes widen. Are you sure they're authentic? Straight from C driveards. I have friends still embedded. They risk their lives for this. Anakin places a hand on Rex's shoulder. Thank you. They transmit the plans to Padme Borgana and the rebellion's high command, but hope quickly fades as the scientists review the schematics. >> I can't believe it. There's nothing. No weakness. This weapon of theirs seems indestructible. >> Then we only have one choice. We strike before it's fully operational. >> We have to gather every cell, every ship, and launch an allout assault. Get in and get out. >> Agreed. I'll make the calls. >> The rebel fleet emerges from hyperspace over the outer rim sector believed to be housing the Imperial super weapon. Star cruisers, blockade runners, and X-wings fill the void. At the helm of the command ship, Padme Amadala stands beside Mon Mothma and Bergana, her expression tight with both fear and resolve. Anakin and Obi-Wan aboard a modified Jedi assault shuttle with R2-D2 lead the charge. It's a full-scale offensive. Every ship, every pilot, every ally across the galaxy that still believes in freedom has gathered here. The Rebellion is betting everything on this moment. But when the fleet rounds the shadow of a nearby moon, horror. A sphere of impossible size looms before them. The Death Star fully constructed, fully operational. Then the unthinkable. A massive green beam fires from its central dish. A remote lifeless planet used as a test site is obliterated in seconds. The planet's crust evaporates, its atmosphere torn apart. Shock waves ripple through nearby ships. Silence falls across the comms. Anakin stares, fists clenched, knuckles white. It's not under construction. It's finished. >> That means our intel was compromised, or worse, manipulated. But there's no way that thing can fire again quickly. This might be our only chance. We'll have to disable it from the inside. >> Padme's voice crackles in over the comms. >> Anakin, Obi-Wan, are you seeing this? >> We are. I think this is our only chance. Padme, there's no way that thing can fire again soon. Cover us. We're going in. The plan is formed in seconds. The Rebel fleet splits into two wings. One to engage and distract the Imperial Royal Fleet, the other to protect a small corridor toward the Death Star's vententral docking bay. Anakin, Obi-Wan, and R2-D2 will infiltrate the station via the access point using the schematics provided by Captain Rex. Their mission, disarm or sabotage the Death Star's core before it can fire again. The space above the station becomes chaos. X-wings swarm TIE fighters. Monalamari ships trade heavy cannon fire with star destroyers. The sheer scale mirrors the Clone Wars. But with Anakin and Obi-Wan at the helm, the morale among pilots soarses. This reminds me of Geonosis. The chaos, the odds. We didn't win that one clean either. No, but we survived. Let's make sure we do it again. The shuttle barrels toward the Death Star, dodging turbo blasters with deaf precision. R2 screeches, plugging into the hanger bay access controls. >> Cut the chatter, buddy. Just get us in. With a pulse of static, the hangar shields flicker. The shuttle dives in. Inside the Death Star, it's eerie and sterile. The white Durac steel walls feel like a tomb, but the infiltration team moves fast, cutting down guards, overriding doors, and making their way to the station's reactor core. On the way, they pass observation chambers and control rooms. The scale of this. How many billions will they kill without blinking? As many as it takes to rule through fear. Shouldn't surprise you knowing who had it built. R2 begins the process of accessing the reactor control interface. Suddenly, the doors slide open. A cold breeze rushes in. Not from any environmental system, but something darker. Anakin and Obi-Wan raise their sabers in tandem. From the shadows emerges a legion of cloaked figures, masked and silent. Inquisitors. At their center stands a single figure, tall, armored in black and crimson, face hidden behind a dark helm that looks eerily familiar. The clone removes his helmet. Anakin stares. By the fools. It's Anakin, a younger version. unscarred, sharper features, but the same fury burning behind his eyes. A clone. What? What is this? From behind the inquisitors, a slow mocking clap echoes through the corridor. The air turns heavy. The light dims unnaturally. A voice slithers forward. Did you truly believe I ever thought you were dead, Skywalker? He steps out from a side alcove, hooded, regal, calm. You were always powerful, but foolish. I knew the moment Mustafa fell silent. Your deception was clever. But I am the dark side, and the dark side sees everything. Then you knew this day would come. Indeed, and I've prepared for it. Behold, my new apprentice. The clone ignites a lightsaber, an unstable red blade, and sweeps forward. The inquisitors follow suit, fanning out, surrounding them. Let us see how long your brotherhood lasts. 10 Inquisitors surge in like shadows, blades spinning, force powers crackling through the corridor. The clone lunges at Anakin with terrifying precision. He fights like Anakin, but colder, more brutal. Every movement mimics his own former style. Obi-Wan meets three Inquisitors on the left flank. His blue blade following in tight arcs. Sorasu form in perfect execution. Blaster bolts and saber strikes ricochet off his defenses as he pivots and counters. Anakin, locked in a fierce duel with his clone, trades blow for blow at blinding speed. Sparks fly as sabers clash. The clone channels pure rage. But Anakin now fights with focus, with clarity. He's mastered both sides of the Force, and it shows. >> I'm sorry he's done this to you. You're strong, but you're just a shadow of the old me. I will do what I must. He parries hard, and the clone staggers for just a second. R2-D2, tucked behind a console, continues slicing into the core systems, doors ceiling shut to buy time. Meanwhile, Obi-Wan shifts into Ataro, launching into a spin that knocks one Inquisitor into the wall. He uses the Force to pin another to the ceiling, lightsaber rising in a flash to disarm the last with a precision non-lethal slash across the wrist. Anakin disarms one of the Inquisitors that flanks him, throwing his saber across the corridor, spinning it through the air like a boomerang. It knocks two others to the ground before flying back into his hand. Obi-Wan joins his side back to back. >> That's three for me. Three, huh? That's not bad. I myself am sitting pretty on four. >> Ah, you just wait, my friend. >> They move again, perfectly synchronized. Two arms of the same body. Every strike complements the other. When Anakin faints high, Obi-Wan sweeps low. When Obi-Wan blocks a blow with his saber, Anakin finishes it with a force push. The Inquisitors begin to falter. One by one, they fall. Their formations break. Their confidence cracks. Now it's only the clone apprentice left. Breathing hard, blade trembling. He charges, desperation overtaking precision. Anakin and Obi-Wan don't hesitate. They engage him with a whirlwind of motion, turning his fury against him. It's not just a fight, it's an unraveling. Obi-Wan disarms him first, cutting the lightsaber in half mid swing. Anakin follows, stepping in close, grabbing the clone by the chest plate, pressing his forehead against his enemies. The dark side doesn't make you stronger. It only makes you forget who you are. A surge of force energy explodes outward, blasting the clone unconscious across the corridor. The silence is deafening, breathing heavy, robes tattered. Anakin and Obi-Wan turn toward the final figure in the chamber. Palpatine, still standing, still smiling. He raises his hands and two Crimson Sabers ignite. Impressive, but predictable. You've grown stronger together. That unity is your greatest weakness. Palpatines's robes billow unnaturally as he steps forward, his eyes burning twin coals beneath his hood. You think you're ready. I created this war. I bent the galaxy with a whisper. You are but fractured remnants of what I forged. He raises his hands. No mere Sith lightning this time, but an ethereal torrent of red and gold energy spiraling like serpents arcing off the Duristile walls and illuminating the reactor chamber in an otherworldly glow. Anakin and Obi-Wan split instantly, each a storm onto itself. They move as one, yet fight in tandem. Anakin's brutal form five strikes like a battering ram. Obi-Wan Sarasu is an impenetrable wall, redirecting attacks and conserving strength. Their coordination is flawless. Each step, each parry is a phrase in a language they invented together across the battlefields in the Clone Wars in the last 10 years of training. But Palpatine has evolved. He spins with impossible speed, Saber in one hand, his other summoning phantom images, miages of himself, confusing their perceptions. He rips chunks of the flooring and hurls them with telekinetic precision. All the while weaving brutal Ataru strikes and Mkashi counters they've never seen from him before. He's faster, stronger than we thought. No, Obi-Wan. He's afraid. But Cidius knows their rhythm. He isolates it, exploits it. Suddenly, he vanishes. A tremor in the force. He reappears behind Anakin, slicing clean through his cybernetic arm. The original replacement from Geonosis. Sparks fly. Anakin grunts. Flung back by a concussive wave, slamming into a wall with such force it dents. Before Obi-Wan can react, Palpatine thrusts out both hands, launching twin bolts of the red and gold lightning. Obi-Wan raises his palm to absorb it like Yoda taught him. But this was something far more corrosive. His muscles seize, teeth grit. This lightning burrows, crawling through nerves, targeting intent and memory itself. Anakin, no. But Anakin is still recovering on one knee, his stump crackling. Do you truly believe you could destroy me? You should have taken your place beside me, Skywalker. Now your friend will pay, and you'll watch as he burns, the way you should have on Mustapa. Palpatines's fingers spllay. Lightning intensifies into solar flares. Obi-Wan screams, knees buckling. The scent of scorched fabric and searing flesh fills the air. Anakin's eyes lock onto the sight. His oldest friend writhing, breaking, dying, and then everything stops. Silence like the vacuum of space. Anakin's breath slows. He doesn't feel pain, not fear, not even rage. What fills him is clarity. The fire inside is not dark nor light. It's both balanced. He rises. His eyes shimmer. A duality of golden flicker and tranquil blue. His stance shifts. Elegant. Devastating. Unstoppable. His very presence bends the air. You will not take anything else from me. He explodes forward. A force shock wave rippling out from his feet. It slams into Palpatine like a tidal wave, breaking the lightning's arc and hurling the Emperor back through the column. Sparks rain from ruptured conduits. Palpatine staggers to his feet. Stunned. Genuinely surprised. >> That power. No, you you shouldn't have it. >> I earned it. Through every scar you gave me. Through every lie you told. Through every death you caused. He ignites his saber. Single-handed now, but there's no hesitation. Palpatine roars and attacks. blades crossing again with furious speed, but the tide has turned. Obi-Wan, bruised and smoking, recovers just enough to rejoin. And now they fight with new rhythm. Palpatine is on the defensive. Anakin's saber strikes her battering rams. Obi-Wan dances between angles. Every clash sends shock waves across the reactor chamber. Every scream from Palpatine is no longer triumph, but frustration. His precision fades. His movements, once perfect, now falter. Anakin drives him back. Blow after blow. Palpatine tries lightning again, but Anakin catches it, redirects it, and returns it in kind. His lightning crackling with white gold energy. The fusion of light and dark. Cidius screams as the energy tears through him. >> Now, Anakin, end this. >> Anakin surges forward, fainting high, then spinning low, severing both Palpatines's hands, Saber clattering to the floor. The Emperor collapses to his knees, trembling. I I am the Empire. Anakin steps close, Saber humming at his side. He looks down, not with hatred, but finality. Not anymore. The Great Senate Chamber, once a symbol of galactic unity, has never been more silent. Delegates from across the stars sit frozen in their pods, watching with wide, breathless eyes as a lone figure floats to the center podium. Emperor Palpatine. His stumps bound in magnetic cuffs, his robes torn, his face bruised and burned. He is no longer the all powerful Sith Lord. He is a defeated tyrant. Standing behind him, tall and resolute, is Anakin Skywalker, the man once presumed dead. The Jedi once lost to fire and fate, now returned. Behind Anakin stands Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padmeala, Bale Orana, Manothma, and representatives of the rebellion. Their presence confirms the impossible. The Empire has fallen. The truth is ready to be spoken. Anakin takes one step forward. Eyes scanning the assembly. Years ago, this man stood before you as Chancellor. He promised you peace, safety, unity. But from the very beginning, it was a lie. He orchestrated a war to seize power. He created the Clone Wars not as a mean to end conflict, but to control it, to control you. He groomed the Jedi as pawns, led them into darkness, and branded them traitors to be wiped out. He seduced me to the edge of ruin. He whispered promises of power, of salvation. And I, blinded by fear of losing my wife, fell. I helped him bring down the Jedi. I helped him create the Empire. And for that, I will carry the weight forever. >> Gasps ripple through the chamber. >> But the truth survived. My wife, Senator Padme Amadala, saw through the deception. My master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, never gave up on me. And Captain Rex, once a clone bred for obedience, defied his programming to resist tyranny. Together, we exposed the lies. This man before you is not a savior. He is Darth Cidius, a Sith Lord who ruled through fear, who sought to extinguish entire planets, who built a weapon of death that nearly destroyed us all. He gestures to a hollow projection of the Death Star flickering above. "We stopped him, but it was only possible because of those who refused to surrender. Jedi, rebels, citizens of every system who believed in the Force, in truth, in justice. Now I return him to you, not as a prisoner of vengeance, but as a criminal of the Republic. Let history see him. Let justice judge him. And let us all remember, peace must never be traded for comfort or security, and freedom must never be surrendered to fear again. The chamber erupts, not in chaos, but in thunderous applause. The vote for a new government begins. The temple rises again, not in the image of the old Jedi order, but as something new, cleaner, balanced, open. Inside the central hall, Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi stand side by side, lightsabers clipped to their belts, dressed not in the traditional brown robes of the past, but in new garments, white and gray, symbolizing both serenity and strength. The new Jedi order has begun. Obi-Wan Kenobi now holds the title of Grandmaster, not out of ambition, but duty. Anakin, once the chosen one, stands proudly as his second. Not out of ego, but redemption. Together, they guide this new path. Two small figures train nearby, Luke and Leia. Both already strong the force. Their laughter fills the halls as they spar with practice savers, coached by their fathers all in but blood. They carry your light. >> As nightfalls, the stars glitter above the temple dome. A faint shimmer appears in the air behind them. Qui-Gon Jinn watching with a silent smile, proud, his form slowly fades into the ether. Later in the meditation garden, they reach out to the force and find the presence of Yoda on Deaba. A hologram flickers to life. Your path this time, my time passed. It adds a new era. The force brings. Trust it. We must. And in you, I do. May the force be with you, master. >> The transmission fades. Peace. A new age dawn. Not one ruled by Sith or crippled by Jedi dogma, but shaped by balance, by unity, by truth, and by those who chose to return to the light. That's our theory. The Star Wars universe is a galaxy filled with exciting stories and possibilities, and we love exploring them. If you'd like to join us on this journey to a galaxy far, far away, then please like, share, and subscribe to our