When Anakin Skywalker was a Padawan to Obi-Wan Kenobi, they were sent on a mission to a remote planet to make contact with the Witch Tribe. After they fail to secure an alliance, Anakin thought he'd never have to hear or see a witch again. But with...
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Anakin's curiosity, ever insatiable, prompted him to broach a topic that had long lingered on the fringes of his understanding. "Master, what exactly are witches?" he inquired, his voice tinged with a mixture of apprehension and intrigue. Despite the whispers and rumors that had filtered through the corridors of his past, Anakin remained curious, eager to unravel the enigma surrounding these mysterious beings.
"I am no master, Anakin," Obi-Wan replied, his tone thoughtful as he considered the question. "But from what I understand, witches are not unlike us Jedi or the Sith. They possess their own unique abilities and traditions, often shrouded in mystique and legend."
As he spoke, Obi-Wan absently stroked his beard, a habit born of deep contemplation. "Some are revered as enchantresses, wielding powers beyond mortal comprehension," he continued, his gaze distant. "While others are vilified as grotesque abominations, feared for their dark arts and malevolent influence."
Anakin's interest piqued at the mention of differing perceptions of witches. On Tatooine, where superstition reigned supreme, the allure of a witch's beauty often overshadowed the tales of their sinister deeds. "Which perspective do you believe holds true, Obi-Wan?" he pressed, eager to glean insight from his master's wisdom.
The Jedi Knight pondered the question for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Both, perhaps," he finally answered, his tone measured. "The nature of a witch, like that of any being, is shaped by their choices and actions. Beauty and ugliness, light and darkness, coexist within them in equal measure."
Anakin nodded thoughtfully, mulling over Obi-Wan's words as they drifted into a contemplative silence. Outside the viewport, the streaks of hyperspace blurred into an endless expanse, a visual metaphor for the vast mysteries of the galaxy.
Their reverie was abruptly shattered as the ship began to tremble violently, jolting them back to reality. Anakin sprang into action, his hands flying over the controls in a frantic bid to regain control. "It must be some sort of gravitational anomaly centered around the planet," he exclaimed, his frustration mounting with each failed attempt to stabilize their vessel.
Obi-Wan's sharp intake of breath drew Anakin's attention, and he followed the older Jedi's gaze to the ominous sight of a black hole lurking ominously beneath Pluto. "They must really discourage visitors," Anakin remarked dryly, his tone laced with a hint of dark humor.
With determination etched upon his features, Anakin maneuvered the ship with practiced precision, guiding it through the treacherous currents of space toward their destination. Despite the harrowing journey, they landed safely on the surface of Pluto, albeit with a less-than-graceful thud.
"Ah, a happy landing indeed," Obi-Wan muttered wryly as he rose unsteadily from his seat, his joints protesting the rough descent.
Anakin flashed a smirk in response, his adrenaline still coursing through his veins as he descended the ship's ramp to survey their surroundings. Meanwhile, Obi-Wan remained onboard, scanning the barren landscape for signs of life or civilization, their mission on the precipice of unfolding amidst the desolate beauty of the distant dwarf planet.
