Jedi Master Luke Skywalker found himself to be very content. The wars he had fought were distant memories, and at long last, the Galaxy seemed to be at peace. At least, the Galaxy was not at all out war with itself or others, and that was close enough to peace for him. Of course there were still a need for Jedi. If peace and justice were to continue in the Galaxy, it would have to be guarded. To that end, Master Skywalker spent most of his time here, in the Jedi Temple he had called home for many decades. He continued the study and discovery of what it meant to be Jedi. This knowledge he unselfishly passed to the other Jedi, his Jedi.

Though it had been many years since he had taken an apprentice of his own, he felt a responsibility of being a teacher to all Jedi in the order. He did not know how much longer he was for this world, and he wanted his legacy to be a Jedi Order that could exist without him. He had left running the politics and organization of the order to younger Jedi, and now served in what was technically an advisory role. His advice however was often taken as being the source of absolute authority. He could not stop others from referring to him as 'founder' as they discussed the order, but insisted on simply being called 'Master' to his face. He had given up hope of ever just being 'Luke' to anyone but his closest friends.

As was his custom, he strolled the halls of the Jedi Temple after breakfast, circuitously making his way to the library. He found himself in a hallway lit by the early morning sun. The sunlight made his silver hair and beard appear to be luminous as he turned his face into the warmth, closing his eyes, and finding a brief moment of content meditation. With a deep breath and a sigh, he turned and found a turbolift that would bring him to the library.

The temple library did not just hold its information in its massive data banks, but also in printed volumes, handwritten notes, carved into materials exotic and mundane, and in artifacts. It could just as easily be called a museum as a library. A few of Luke's comrades from past campaigns now served as temple librarians, maintaining the vast stores of data and information. These old Jedi still wore their lightsabers, and would serve again if needed. They continued their training, growing in their knowledge of the Force, and were ready to serve the younger generation of active Jedi.

The shape of the library was that of an eight-spoked wheel: an outer ring-shaped room, with eight corridors leading to a central hub. Within the corridors, there were a number of studies. These were for any Jedi to use, but it was understood that the large, cluttered study in the western spoke was for the use of Master Skywalker. It was to this study that Luke made his way, finding his work and studies just as he had left them, late the night before.

He stood at the threshold looking at what awaited him. There on the workbench was the crystalline circuitry of an unfinished project. In the corner there was a dwarfed, potted ch'hala tree. Next to one wall, an often used data terminal that some would say was out of date. Tucked away in a small alcove was a small teapot, cracks in the glaze showing its age. On his desk lay the scroll he was studying, and beside it, the amulet that was assisting him in the translation.

He sat over the scroll, amulet in hand, and began reading, making notes on a small datapad. He could feel the Jedi surrounding him in the temple, and their presences comforted him. A small ripple in the Force would wash over him each time a Jedi would pass by his study. Usually, it would be a calm, focused presence. But soon Luke straightened up and turned in his chair as he felt the presence of one that was confused, and a bit anxious.

Soon, he saw a mottled, orange three fingered hand grasp the edge of the portal leading to his study, soon followed by an almost comically large head, topped with small eye-stalks, and large fin-like ears. This creature furtively glanced around the room before settling his eyes on Master Skywalker, swallowing in nervousness as the Jedi Master returned his gaze.

"You look lost, my friend," began Luke, "Can I help you?"

The Gungan took this as an invitation and walked into the study.

"Mesa is lost! Dissen my first day here, and I am berry confused. Dey say, 'go to da library and be reading Jedi histories,' but mesa not knowing where to look."

Luke could feel the Gungan's relief, now that this nervous being had found someone to talk to.

"I know a bit about Jedi history. I'm reading some right now in fact, would you like to have a seat and learn a bit?"

"Oiee Boiee! Dat would be most hepfull," said the young Gungan as he took a seat, "Mesa called Zhar Zhar Bhor. Whosa is yousa?"

Luke blinked and briefly gave his head a slight tilt at the novelty of not being recognized, he allowed a small smile play across his mouth, and replied, "I'm Luke."

"Mesa is honored to meet yousa, Master Jedi Luke."

"Just Luke is fine."

"Okeeday ... Luke. Whatsa yousa reading dere?"

"This," Luke gestured to the scroll on his desk, "is a history of the Dai Bendu, a monastic sect that knew of the Force, and may even be the progenitors of the Jedi Knights. They found that different people would have different innate abilities in the Force, and they would build on the strengths they possessed. This kind of training allowed for some members of the Dai Bendu to become very proficient in some very specific skills. If a problem had arisen, and the Dai Bendu were asked for help, the Dai Bendu would send a Bendu Monk whose skill they thought would best apply to the problem at hand. Often this would work, but occasionally, the Bendu Monk's skill would not facilitate a solution, so the Bendu Monk would call back to the order to dispatch another Bendu Monk who's skill may solve the problem."

"Dat sounds berry friendly, workin together like dat."

"Yes Zhar Zhar, but you see, it worked for the Dai Bendu, because they served only a single system, and had numbers great enough for this strategy. Jedi cannot afford this luxury. Our numbers are too small, and the Republic we defend too large to be able to call on another every time a single skill does not work with the situation at hand. We must not just rely on our natural strengths but build those skills we are weak at through training and study. A Jedi must be proficient in many skills, and able to improvise, drawing on the Force to do something that may never have even attempted before. A Jedi cannot afford to be a specialist in this regard. We must be generalists, ready to assist in any way that is needed. We must become han what we are naturally."

Zhar Zhar put his hand underneath his chin, and looked to the side, evidently deep in thought. "Yousa point is well seen. But, no matter how hard someone tries, dey always end up being demself, my thinks."

Luke smiled at the Gungan's insight. It had been a very long time since anyone had questioned his interpretation of something, even on such a minor point as this.

At that moment, another Jedi poked his head into the study, exclaiming, "Zhar Zhar, there you are! I had wondered where you wandered off to," and with a deep bow continued, " I'm sorry my Master, if my new Padawan has caused you any trouble, he is quite new to the Order and does not know much yet."

Luke held the Jedi's gaze for a moment, then turned back to Zhar Zhar, "I think I am going to enjoy talking to you quite a bit, and quite often, Zhar Zhar. When you get a break in your training, be sure to come see me again."

"Mesa would like that berry, berry much!"

"Come, Zhar, Zhar, lets not bother the found-- Master Skywalker any further today." Taking Zhar Zhar by the arm, the Jedi stood him up and began to lead him out of the study.

"May the Force be with you, Zhar Zhar," Luke said as the pair reached the doorway.

"May da Force be wit you, Luke," replied Zhar Zhar with a small bow. He turned and left the study, leaving his master to stand there in a small state of shock. Luke smiled as he saw the Jedi's face pale at the thought of his Padawan being so familiar and with the founder of the modern Jedi Order.

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