Chapter Text
A Jedi Master and her padawan crashed their ship on a remote planet. Unharmed, but stranded, they set off through the wilderness in search of civilization.
Local wildlife peeked out curiously at them as they went, but kept their distance; the pair of Jedi were untroubled by them as they passed through, until they happened across a small creature that did not flee from their approaching footsteps.
“Oh!” the Padawan cried, lurching forward as she realized that the creature was injured. Quickly, she took out her medpack and began tending to the creature’s injuries. Her Master stood by patiently, in silence. When the Padawan had finished her work and released the creature to shamble off, the Master spoke.
“Why did you stop to help that creature, Padawan?”
The Padawan blinked, confused by the question. “Should I not have?” she asked. Her Master held up her hand, palm facing front.
“I did not say that. I merely asked of your motivations.”
The Padawan considered for only a moment. “Because a Jedi must be compassionate,” she answered. “And healing the injured is compassionate. It was the right thing to do.”
Her Master nodded, pleased with the Padawan’s answer, and they continued on their way.
Some time later, they happened upon a farm. The family there welcomed in the traveling Jedi, offering a place to stay for the night. The weary Jedi gratefully accepted, offering what help they could in return. Though the Padawan was certain she could keep up with the adults, she was sent to help the children with their tasks and chores, while her Master helped the parents.
The children showed her what they needed to do, and together they set about their work. Soon, the Padawan noticed that one of the children sat off to the side and did not help, yet oddly, she sensed that he wished to, and none of his siblings seemed bothered by his lack of participation.
When she asked, with polite curiosity, what his job was, the other children told her that he was ill and could not work. And yes, now that they had drawn her attention to it, the Padawan could sense it – the disease that robbed the boy of his strength. Her heart went out to him for his suffering.
“Perhaps, while I am here, we can find a way for him to help,” she suggested.
With the Force, she supported what he could not, and so the boy joined in with a smile.
Later, after everyone had retired to their beds, her Master questioned her on this, too.
It took her a few more moments to respond this time, but the Padawan said, “A Jedi must be compassionate. But healing him is beyond my abilities and my supplies, so I helped him in another way. It may not have taken away his suffering, but it could make it a little easier to bear for a while.”
“Yes, Padawan,” her Master agreed. “Sometimes that is the best we can do. You showed wisdom in directing your compassion in a useful way.”
In the morning, they asked the family for directions, but instead the family offered to take them to the city. So they set out again, this time in the back of an old speeder, flown by one of the older children. They traveled for some ways before the speeder broke down.
While they set about attempting to repair the speeder, they were attacked by a band of opportunistic thieves. Master and Padawan ignited their lightsabers to deflect the blasterfire that rained down on them. Not dissuaded, the thieves continued firing, and a few slipped closer to the driver, who had left his blaster in the speeder and could not reach it to defend himself. But the Master anticipated that, and stepped to his defense, cutting through their opponents weapons, and in one case, a hand. When the thieves saw the damage that the Jedi’s weapons were capable of, they fled, jumping back into their own vehicle and speeding off.
They returned to repairing the speeder and under their careful efforts, the engine rumbled to life again. The Master’s insight told her that it would not survive the trip into the city, however, and she told their driver to return home, where he could fully service the limping vehicle. Reluctantly, he agreed, and so the Jedi continued on their path on foot.
Time passed, until they again came upon the thieves that had attempted to assail them earlier. The thieves’ speeder had crashed violently and had taken many of its occupants with it, their corpses half-hanging out of the wreckage.
The Padawan continued on, reflecting on how evildoing was always paid for in the end, but she had not gone far before she realized that her Master was not with her. She turned back, and hurried to her Master’s side as the woman approached the wrecked speeder.
With the Force, the Master cleared away some of the debris, and it was then that her Padawan saw what the Master had not missed earlier – among the wreckage, one still lived. The Padawan stared at his half-conscious form, noting that it was the one whose hand her Master had taken earlier.
When her Padawan made no motion towards the injured man, the Master stepped forward, pulling him out of the wreckage and carrying him carefully to clear ground, where she began to treat him with her own medpack. When she was finished, she turned to her Padawan.
“Why did you hesitate to help him?” she asked. “Is a Jedi not supposed to be compassionate?”
The Padawan lowered her head in shame. “Yes, Master. I know, but...” she trailed off, at a loss for words.
Her Master understood well enough. “Yes,” she said, her eyes softening even as her voice remained firm. “It is easy to show compassion to an injured animal, or a child, or to those who have shown you friendship. But to one who has attempted to do you harm? That is much more difficult. Yet, as Jedi, we must also offer those people our compassion, however difficult it may be.”
“But that did not stop you from cutting away his hand,” the Padawan pointed out.
“It did not,” her Master agreed. “Nor should it. Our compassion should not stop us from protecting others and ourselves – as you did yesterday, you must direct it into something useful. I recognize that sometimes I must cause harm – still, I always seek to minimize it, and I bear no grudge against this man. He has tried to harm us in the past, and he may try again in the future, but now, he is injured, and incapable of harming us even if he wanted to.”
“That is true,” the Padawan conceded. “I apologize, Master. I should have offered him aid just as I did with the others.”
“Remember this lesson in the future,” the Master said.
The Padawan resolved that she would.