An Unknown People (closed)

[Rhea Kaylen]

OOC: This is the heavily edited and newly-revised version of a fanfiction I am posting on FanFiction.net. Hopefully it will be much better and more canon-adherent than it was, but any tips, corrections, or comments will be very much appreciated. Many of you are far better-versed in SW canon than I, and your input will be invaluable. Thanks, and enjoy!

[Rhea Kaylen]

Foreword

This is the tale of one family.

Much as history books will tell you of the legacy of the immortal Skywalker dynasty, to which we owe our galaxy's freedom and prosperity, this story will tell you of another family entirely. Their influence was far less, their power far less great, but while the Skywalker legend is one of triumph rising from the blackness of defeat, this tale will follow the unraveling of the lives of its players, from the apex of happiness to the chaos of death and sorrow.

For this is also the tale of a curse.

I do not believe in this curse, though it has, supposedly, fallen squarely on my shoulders. Most of my family and friends do not believe it, either. But there are those who, having concocted this curse four generations ago, have given themselves to belief in its inexorability. And, while most of this is due to blind superstition, there are certain occurences in the history of my family which, taken together, seem to point to something more than happenstance.

My present task is simple: I will give you the history of my family, as penned by the participants. Your job is to make of it what you will.

This first part of the tale relates the very beginning of it all. This was written by my grandmother, who pieced together the facts and expounded upon them as accurately as she could. I have since edited and revised the story-history. All historical information written here is true; some of the dialogue is paraphrased or invented, but the historians who have graciously read this on my behalf have all agreed that the tale is in keeping with the natures of the historical figures it relates. In any event, the importance of this book, if there is any, is not in the dialogue or narrative itself, but in the flow of the story from its inocuous opening to its tragic close. Perhaps, in this flow, there is nothing more to note than chance. Perhaps there is something more.

I am leaving the final decision up to you.

May the Force be with you all.

Rhea Kaylen

[Rhea Kaylen]

AN UNKNOWN PEOPLE

Chapter 1

If boredom were a competitive sport, thought young Obi-Wan Kenobi absently as he stared out the viewscreen in front of him, then I would be winning every medal being awarded. The boy’s eyes were focused, unseeing, on the field of endless star-streaks stretching out before him. It was unnervingly like looking into the maw of oblivion, and knowing you were cheerfully hurtling headlong into its singularity.

Obi-Wan had been enduring this lazy silence and lack of intelligent occupation for four hours, now. Having an utter lack of anything better to do got very old very quickly. And as good a master as Qui-Gon was, he was certainly no conversationalist. That coupled with a rather cramped ship created an atmosphere that was slowly driving the Padawan insane.

Bracing his foot against the small table in front of him, the boy tipped his chair onto its back two legs and sighed heavily, picking at a loose string on his trousers.

Lounging in the pilot's chair, Qui-Gon Jinn heard the teenager's sigh and smiled faintly to himself.

"Something wrong, Obi-Wan?" the man asked, but he knew already.

"Oh, no. Well...no, nothing," the boy muttered, embarrassed. Now that Qui-Gon knew that something was bothering his Padawan, Obi-Wan would be forced to be truthful. He’d have too tell his master that he was currently bored out of his mind, and, not only that, but that he was unhappy with the missions that Yoda had been giving them lately. Then he'd receive a lecture about the wisdom of all of Yoda's decisions, and he'd be told to be patient, and to try to curb his over-active ambition and restlessness (both of which were definitely not characteristics of a Jedi Knight), and...he really didn't want to hear it right now.

"Hmm?" Qui-Gon pressed, swiveling around in the pilot's chair to look at the boy.

"It's just..." Oh, might as well just tell him and get this over with. With an exasperated huff, Obi-Wan set the chair down to face his master.

"I'm sorry, Qui-Gon. It's a problem with my attitude, I know, but...it’s just these uninteresting, unchallenging missions that Yoda keeps handing down to us. I mean, these missions are projects that the Council would never dream of giving to, say, Adi Gallia and Siri, or Master Dor'atal and Caedrin, or any other Master/Padawan team. It's not that I think we're better than they are, really, but I wish Yoda would give us a mission that would at least let us get a little more involved in our assignment."

Qui-Gon smiled again, surprising his young Padawan, who had braced himself for the inevitable sermon. "I understand, Obi-Wan. I know it may seem hard to believe, but I have been feeling the same way lately. I don't know why the Council is giving these missions to us, but I have to remind myself that the jobs have to be done by someone. It is frustrating, though. Just don't ever let Yoda know that I said that," the older man warned, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

Obi-Wan was so stunned at Qui-Gon’s unexpected empathy that for a moment he had no comeback. Then he suddenly stiffened to attention in his seat, stuck his left hand into the air, and slapped his right hand over his heart. "This conversation never happened," he promised, while somehow managing to keep a straight face.

Qui-Gon smirked and turned back around.

Obi-Wan tipped back in his chair again (it was a bad but beloved habit he had picked up at the Temple years ago—one that always got him in trouble) and, for penitence’s sake, and for something to do, reviewed this last mission in his mind.

Obi-Wan and his master had been dispatched to the tiny planet Imash, on the farthest border of the Unknown Regions, as keepers of the peace. The Imassi had been having a little trouble with their government lately; several corrupt government leaders with a great deal of influence in the planetary senate were getting more and more unfair taxes levied against the people. The unrest was beginning to mount to the level of a full-scale rebellion, and the Imassi Prime Minister, who could not control these officials or his people, contacted the Jedi Council for help.

The thing was, all these officials were big cowards, so as soon as the Jedi stepped off their ship, the shady senators immediately fell quaking and trembling at Qui-Gon's feet and surrendered, scared to death of the venerable Jedi knight. The men at fault were deposed, the government was stabilized, and the Jedi were off the planet inside of four days.

And now here they were, in the middle of hyperspace, heading back to the Temple on Coruscant to receive another mindless mission.

Obi-Wan shook his head slightly to clear it of rebellious thoughts. He reprimanded himself for thinking of Yoda's assignment decisions as unwise or meaningless. Sighing again, discreetly more quiet this time, he rocked his tipped chair back and forth.

"Hey, Qui-Gon," the boy said conversationally, "why do you think th—"

Suddenly, the ship was rocked by a horrible explosion that made Obi-Wan's teeth chatter. The violent shaking made the boy lose his balance; with a surprised yell he and the chair went tumbling backwards and crashed to the floor. He clambered up and looked around for a moment, dazed, then staggered up the cabin toward the pilot's chair where Qui-Gon was frantically trying to wrest their ship back into control.

As Obi-Wan stumbled from one stable support in the shuddering cabin to the other while making his way to his master, he saw red lights flashing all over the control panel in alarm, signaling system damages and failures. As he watched out the viewscreen, the star-streaks seemed to tremble and shorten abruptly back to their normal sizes as glittering stars.

The boy also saw, as their small ship dropped out of hyperspace, something that pulled his breath from his lungs and made him wish he were in a nightmare.

There, swarming above and all around their ship like birds of prey, were at least two warships, a large freighter, and a whole squadron of lightning-fast starfighters. All the ships were blood red with lightning and flames painted on their hulls, and across the side of every one was emblazoned a hawk's head with a tattered strip of cloth in its wickedly curved beak: the symbol of the Planet Hawk Pirates.

[Rhea Kaylen]

Chapter 2

"Hang on, Obi-Wan!"

Qui-Gon hammered a switch with his fist and then violently yanked the steering bars all the way to the right. Their small Imassi cruiser, loaned to them by the government of Imash, nearly doubled back on its course and shot away, pouring on speed.

Obi-Wan did indeed hang on; in fact he had to cling desperately to the back of Qui-Gon's seat in order to keep from becoming a splatter on the durasteel wall next to him. The boy had to give the Imassi credit for one thing: they knew how to make ships fast and durable. Never was he more glad for a good ship.

The Planet Hawk Pirate ships merely froze for a moment, apparently shocked that such a little ship would have either the ability or the audacity to turn and run from their attack. Then they regrouped and started after the retreating craft.

"Wonderful," Qui-Gon muttered, eyes darting from blinking light to blinking light on the panel in front of him. "They got our hyperdrive. If we can't out-maneuver them we're in big trouble."

Actually, they were already in big trouble. The Planet Hawk fighters were beginning to bear down on them, and one of the warships was slowly positioning itself for a turbolaser strike.

Briefly Obi-Wan wondered why the pirates were bothering to threaten them; after all, their ship was small and unmarked, with nothing to indicate wealth. Pirates usually wouldn't bother with anything so obviously devoid of value.

Then his old Temple history lessons came to his mind, and he recalled that these particular pirates were known for their merciless slaughter and pointless attacks; they struck any ship that blundered into their territory, whether there was reason to do so or not.

Qui-Gon began violent evasive maneuvers that threatened to send Obi-Wan sprawling. The boy barely managed to heave himself into the copilot's seat before Qui-Gon threw them into a nasty loop that momentarily confused the fighters. Unfortunately, this didn't shake them for long.

Evasion wasn't working. While the Jedi were managing to stay out of the fighters' crosshairs, the fighter ships were every bit as maneuverable as their own craft, and the pilots just as skilled, if not more so, in ship handling. And that warship was almost in firing range.

"Obi-Wan! Redirect all power to the sub-light engines!"

"Shields, too?"

"Yes, shields too! We've still got a lead on them. Hopefully we won't need the shields; we're going to make a run for it."

Obi-Wan shot his master a disbelieving look but quickly complied, shutting down all unnecessary systems and, mouthing rather an uncouth expletive, dropping the shields. Then he flushed all power straight into the sub-lights.

With a jolt, their ship shot forward. Qui-Gon maintained an absolutely straight course, trying to put more distance between them and their assailants; glancing at him, Obi-Wan saw that his master's eyes were lidded, almost closed, in a deep concentration. Though he couldn't tell what exactly the man was doing, he could sense him focusing the Force into an almost solid mass all around, and even inside, their ship.

Suddenly, Obi-Wan also sensed an immense spike in the Force. His heart lurched, Qui-Gon's hands jerked the steering bars, and Obi-Wan spotted a white-hot beam of plasma go slicing off into infinity just off their left wing.

Sirens began screaming again in the cabin. Obi-Wan's eyes went to the panel: not good. They had not entirely missed the warship's turbolaser, never mind Qui-Gon's quick reaction. Their left wing foil was, according to the readout, more or less devastated. The radar screen flickered, and Obi- Wan glanced at it, almost annoyed. But there he saw, with immense relief, the tiny blips that were the pirate fighters falling farther and farther behind their own ship. Even as he watched, some of the fighters began pulling away, intentionally dropping out of the chase. The large circle on the radar, the nearest warship, was also falling back, beginning to slip down to the bottom of the screen to rejoin the freighter and second warship.

If we get out of this, the boy thought as some of his breath left him in a sigh, I am buying something really expensive for the Imassi Prime Minister to thank him for the ship.

As it was, however, he wasn't entirely sure that they would be getting out of this intact. He finally managed to get the warning buzzers to shut up, but the pulsing red and yellow lights compelled him to run a full-systems check.

"What is the report?" Qui-Gon asked quietly. The ship seemed to shudder, as if in response.

His Padawan grimaced. "Erm, well...not sunny. Of course, we have absolutely no hyperdrive capabilities, and from the looks of things, I'd be surprised if we even have a hyperdrive anymore. Uh, left wing is basically totaled, power..." Here he paused for another glance at the radar. Seeing that the pirates had indeed given up chase, he started rechanneling the power back out to other systems. As their ship slowed somewhat and the primary lighting systems flickered hesitantly back to life, Obi-Wan cringed as he heard the engines whine down an octave and a half. "Power," he continued grimly, "is all but drained. We’re leaking somewhere.” Obi-Wan looked concernedly to his master. “Qui-Gon, we have to find somewhere to land, and soon."

"I know, Padawan," came the reply.

Conversation stopped for a few minutes as Obi-Wan made what repairs he could from the cockpit. Then he tried calculating their position, and when he got his answer, he groaned. Now he knew why those pirates had dropped out of the pursuit so quickly.

"Wonderful," he murmured. He began entering data into the navicomputer, his fingers flying as he tried to bring up their flight log. The ‘puter beeped and warbled, but refused to load the information. Three times he attempted to recall the hyperdrive coordinates—nothing. The boy took a deep breath to calm himself, and glanced at Qui-Gon, who was watching him with furrowed brow. "Master...look." He gestured at the readout. "We're deep inside the border of the Unknown Regions, and seriously off-course. The computer data’s been fried, too, I can’t find it. We’re off the maps, now, and as far as we know, there isn't another planet for light-years." Despair filled his voice, no matter how hard he tried to emulate Qui-Gon's permeating calm.

"Open hailing frequencies," the Jedi Master curtly replied.

Obi-Wan obeyed as he silently wondered what good it could do. Light static fuzzed in through the speakers.

"Shall I send out a mayday?" Obi-Wan wanted to know.

Qui-Gon made no response for several seconds. Then, just as he opened his mouth to reply, the comm speaker crackled, then sputtered to life. A young man's voice was heard in the middle of a sentence.

"...weather in Aranio City today, a balmy fifty-two degrees, with clear blue skies and a light breeze until later this evening, with p.m. lows of around forty-five. It's going to be a beautiful afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, so don't stay indoors. 'Board home from school, kids, and for those of you unlucky enough to be stuck in the Matrix all morning, get out for lunch. Your friendly traffic and weather report, from Ansen here, on Aranio City's number one music frequency, 887, the Moonbeam."

Obi-Wan blinked, then looked up at his master incredulously. A weather report? On a hailing frequency?

Qui-Gon's brows knitted. "We must be picking up extraneous signals from a music frequency. But he mentioned a city, and, for me, that's really all that matters at the moment."

Obi-Wan quite agreed, and set the sensors scanning for the apparently nearby planet. In a few moments, the report started scrolling in, and Obi- Wan's face cracked into a huge grin.

"Thank the Force. According to this, an hour and a half in that direction will land us on a small planet reading abundant life and technology signs." He grinned at his master. "We may yet live to complain to Yoda about our boring missions."

Qui-Gon shot him a scathing glare.

[Rhea Kaylen]

Chapter 3

By the time the midsized blue-and-white planet came into the viewscreen, Obi-Wan was practically coaxing their decrepit ship on with encouraging words. The craft was just barely limping towards the nameless planet on a prayer, its power all but exhausted.

Meanwhile, in true Jedi fashion, Master and Padawan had been paying close attention to all the information made available to them on the music frequency. The broadcast was most definitely coming from this jewel-like world, and by the sound of the corny advertisements and professionally- worded news shorts that came on every so often, this planet was a bustling center of well-advanced sentience and technology. Many words that had sounded to be place-names had come across in such news clips and ads, like, "Odrinnon," "Aelia," and the near-constant repetition of "Aranio City." Obi-Wan guessed that to be the largest metropolis on the planet, perhaps the capital, and he tried to get an exact pinpoint on the city's location, knowing it would be wise to land near a well-inhabited area.

But soon he realized that they would be very lucky indeed just to make it to the surface in one piece, no matter where they landed. There was hardly any juice left for the descent; Obi-Wan drew as much power as he could to send to the landing thrusters and repulsorlifts as Qui-Gon began a tedious entry into the atmosphere.

Obi-Wan held his breath and hoped, momentarily paranoid, that the atmospheric approach trajectory had been calculated correctly. He couldn't bear the thought of having gotten so close just to be fried in the upper atmosphere. Qui-Gon concentrated very hard on guiding the ship down; there was a vicious bout of turbulence, and then--

Obi-Wan sighed and slumped back into his chair. Their reentry had gone perfectly; it was smooth sailing from here on down.

This thought had no sooner crossed his mind when their ship lurched and a muffled grinding sound set the boy's teeth on edge. He shot a frantic look at his master's strained face.

"Power's gone," was all the man said.

No! That cannot be...never mind Obi-Wan desperately glanced at his power and systems displays. His trajectory may have been calculated correctly, but his power usage estimations had not.

They were not yet, however, entirely without hope. In a last-ditch, insane effort, Obi-Wan cut the power to their life-support systems, not bothering to test the atmosphere first, and sent it all to the reverse thrusters. He then took the steering bars into his own hands and yanked back as he saw the ground, far, far below, beginning to rush up at them.

()()()()()()()

The sun was beginning to turn golden as it approached the horizon, silhouetting a small figure perched comfortably in the gnarled branches of a stunted tree. Other trees, none of them tall, were scattered sparsely about the vicinity, and occasionally other figures could be seen between the knotty trunks. One of these persons waved a greeting to the girl in the tree, who grinned and waved back. She then returned to her casual survey of the surrounding woods.

Suddenly, up in the sky, a flash of light caught her sharp eye, and she jerked her head up to see what it could be. Squinting, she recognized, with a gasp, the gleam and shape of a small ship. It seemed to be falling, out of control. It was also trailing a telltale streamer of greasy black smoke.

The girl continued to watch, from her superior vantage point in the tree, as the ship plummeted. Her heart raced; it was going to crash for sure! As it fell closer to the planet’s surface, she studied it quickly, frowning. It was an unfamiliar model, one she'd never seen before; perhaps it was from off-planet?

Suddenly, she was relieved to see the blast of thrusters on the ship's underbelly begin to slow the craft's descent. About time, she thought, perturbed. Then, abruptly, the thrusters sputtered and died; the ship began to pick up speed again.

"What does he think he is doing?" she muttered to herself. Then her eyes grew wide as she realized: he really was out of control! And he was going to impact very nearby within the next few seconds.

The girl watched, frightened, until the craft fell behind the line of trees. She grimaced when she heard the enormous crash. Oh, no, she thought frantically, unexplained tears pricking her eyes.

The other people nearby also heard the crash and were calling to her and to each other, trying to find out what was wrong. The boy who had waved to her yelled up at her in question.

For a moment she did not answer. Quickly regaining her wits, however, she cried out, "Send someone back to the village; bring Elder Carin. And medics, too. Hurry!" She then scrambled nimbly down from the tree as her friend nodded and told two others to take the message back to the village. The messengers bent behind a clump of nearby bushes and retrieved two flat, arrowhead-shaped pieces of metal about two feet wide. These sheets of metal hummed like machinery at the touch of the two young men holding them, and they hovered horizontally two feet above the ground on mini-repulsorlifts. The boys leaped onto them; it seemed the mere weight of riders activated the metal machines, which promptly whined their engines and rocketed off to the south.

The girl, meanwhile, began to run the opposite direction, towards the crash site, her friend and several others hot on her heels.

()()()()()()()

Obi-Wan's eyes flickered, then snapped open. Am I dead? was his first thought. A quick glance at his surroundings gave him an emphatic, No, but that may soon change.

He was still mostly in the copilot's seat, though the unlikely list of the ship's cabin threatened to tip him out of his perch. The cabin itself was battered and shrapnel-strewn and sparking unnervingly; a long, jagged crack ran the length of the viewscreen.

Obi-Wan's belated second thought suddenly exploded in his brain: Qui-Gon! Hoping his neck wasn't injured, Obi-Wan twisted his head around to see Qui-Gon limp in the pilot's chair. He was still very much alive, Obi- Wan could see, vastly relieved, by the strength of his life-force and relative physical intactness--no visible breaks or cuts, no unlikely bodily angles.

In fact, it appeared as if the man were beginning to come around. He gave a soft groan and fluttered his eyelids, opening them sleepily. Suddenly he was as alert as ever and looking back at his apprentice, who grinned at him.

"Well," the boy observed. "We lived."

Qui-Gon snorted, then surveyed his location. Eyeing the occasional sparks that burst from the control panel, he said dryly, "Perhaps we'd better disembark."

Obi-Wan couldn't agree more. Disentangling from his harness and hauling himself from his seat, wincing at a sudden ache in his right arm (what would later be a nasty bruise, no doubt), he carefully moved to the back of the cabin, flexing and stretching his body as he went to test for possible injuries. Other dull aches and a burning in his right calf betrayed a little damage but nothing serious. Turning, he asked his master if he was all right; Qui-Gon quickly reassured him, though he gingerly fingered a bleeding cut on his forehead.

Obi-Wan opened the hatch, hearing what little atmosphere remained pressurized in the cabin escape with a faint hiss. He stepped from the ship into gleaming golden sunlight pouring into a clearing amidst a low-canopied forest of unfamiliar trees. Suddenly, Obi-Wan started, realizing that he never had checked to see if the atmosphere was breathable. Thank the Force--and luck--it seemed to be.

Qui-Gon seemed to be following a similar line of thought. "I suppose it wasn't the best idea to shut down life-support without an air check first, Padawan," he said, carefully stretching his long limbs and scrutinizing his surroundings. Just as Obi-Wan opened his mouth to protest Qui-Gon's censure of an erratic, instantaneous, life-or-death decision, the Jedi Master muttered, "Not that it mattered, anyway. Had the air been toxic, we would have been dead before impact; had you left the life-support as it was, we would have been dead upon impact. Excellent choice, Obi-Wan."

The boy grinned furiously and looked around him. They had not landed even remotely close to something resembling a city. But at the moment, that didn't seem a great inconvenience. After all, this planet's countryside was really peaceful, and ruggedly beautiful: thick, low-lying vegetation in gentle, subdued colors; wonderful stunted, gnarled trees hung with lush leaves, some still bearing spring blossoms; and the faint sparkle of unfamiliar birdsong somewhere in the distance. The air was pleasantly dry, and cool--in fact, almost too cool. The gentle breeze made Obi-Wan shiver and pull his robe closer around him.

Suddenly, he detected something, some entity, nearby. Whether he felt the lurch in the Force or heard the tiny rustle of leaves first, he did not know, but both he and Qui-Gon were well aware of the presence of at least one other being in that clearing.

After a brief, nervous hesitation, Qui-Gon called out into the trees, "We mean no harm. Please, come out; we would very much like to meet you."

Obi-Wan hoped whoever it was understood Basic; in any case, he heard an almost inaudible whispering, then the branches of some nearby trees rustled slowly, and a small humanoid figure slipped into the clearing.

The very first thing Obi-Wan saw was the girl's striking white hair, thick and pulled into a ponytail. He realized that its snowiness was not complete; it was shot through with whole streaks of gleaming silver, not grey, but real, sparkling silver. She was small of frame and stocky. Her skin was not fair, but a light tan; unnervingly pale blue, her wide-set eyes gleamed out from a pleasant face. Her eyebrows were completely paradoxical--thick and jet black. Her hair must be dyed, he reasoned.

The next thing he saw was her clothes; they confused him. Here he was in full thick Jedi tunic and robe, shivering in the cool air, and the girl was clad only in shorts and a sleeveless belted tunic, wearing light shoes, and she appeared totally comfortable.

But what really made him stare had nothing to do with her appearance; it was her unnaturally strong presence in the Force. No other civilian he had ever encountered had ever felt this alive in his Force senses. Her reading was more in line with a Jedi his own age. One glance over at Qui-Gon showed that his master had also picked up on it.

Meanwhile, the girl had also been observing them; suddenly her face lit up with excitement, and, turning back toward the trees, she motioned frantically for someone to come to her.

The two Jedi watched as five or six other young people, aged from about twelve to maybe sixteen or seventeen, emerged from the woods. They all resembled the girl in short, stocky build, and wore similar inadequate clothing; there was, between them and their comrade, however, one major difference: each of them had hair of absolute jet black, rudely interrupted by contrasting streaks of pure brilliant white. Obi-Wan thought their skin seemed slightly darker, in general, as well; he noticed their eyes were dark instead of pale.

And all of them had the same rich, strong Force-connections. Like a gaggle of bright-eyed Jedi initiates.

The girl had been talking quietly but animatedly with a taller, good-looking teenage boy behind her; neither Jedi could hear their hushed conversation. But soon the boy nodded, and the girl turned back around, smiling brightly. She stepped forward, and bowed politely; the Jedi returned the gesture. Then she spoke.

"Greetings, honorable Master Jedi," she said cheerfully, her voice infused with a strange accent. Obi-Wan was shocked that she should recognize them for what they were. At first, by 'Master Jedi,' Obi-Wan thought she was referring to Qui-Gon, but he soon realized that she was addressing them both.

She continued. "Welcome to the planet Imran. I, uh, see your arrival was not necessarily scheduled?" She glanced pointedly at their wrecked ship.

Qui-Gon stepped toward her. "Hello, to you and your friends. I am Master Qui-Gon Jinn, and this is my apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi." Rats, Obi-Wan couldn't help thinking, I rather liked the sound of 'Master Jedi,' myself.

"You are correct when you say we did not plan to land here, or, indeed on this planet at all. We were attacked by pirates, and forced to find a place to repair ourselves and our ship. We are deeply sorry for any intrusion we may have caused."

The girl shook her head immediately, her face growing concerned. "You have caused no intrusion, Master Jinn. You were not hurt, were you?" Her eyes flicked to the cut on Qui-Gon’s temple.

The Jedi Master gently shook his head no.

"I understand your situation," she continued, her voice sounding relieved upon learning they were unharmed, "and it was by the guidance of the Force” (here Obi-Wan started violently at her terminology) “that you were brought to this planet, I am sure. Oh," she said, blushing. "I need to get myself straight; I forgot to tell you--my name is Astrela Xylen. Our village is that way," she pointed behind her, "beyond the forest." The distant sound of whirring machinery, coming from the direction of the village, interrupted her.

"Oh, speaking of my village, some of my friends are returning with one of our village elders; he will want to meet you." Astrela smiled at them again, then turned to peer back through the trees for a glimpse of the approaching group. Several of her compatriots were already running off, waving their arms and yelling to flag down the newcomers.

As the girl turned, Obi-Wan's eyes were drawn by a movement at her belt, where he saw, to his mind-numbing shock, an object hanging there that looked a great deal like...a lightsaber.