I opened my eyes, expecting to see abhorrent blue skies, prepared to receive any punishment Plagueis could inflict upon me. When my vision cleared, I indeed saw the color blue, but it wasn't in the skies. It was a pair of sparkling irises, set in a face that took me a moment to distinguish, but could hardly believe I was seeing.
No. It couldn't be! How was this possible?
"I can honestly say, I am surprised as you appear to be."
Even though I had never actually heard the voice, I decided the tone of it matched his features. It was masculine and raspy, but his words were spoken with kind authority; the eyes glittering with equal amounts of charity.
I felt sick to my stomach.
"Welcome to the Netherworld of the Force. I'm not sure what you've done to deserve your entrance, but you wouldn't be here otherwise. Allow me to assist you."
A big hand lifted me from the ground, which I discovered wasn't actually ground - not the kind I was used to. I was surrounded by blankness. A canvas of nothingness. A view of solid white surrounded me on every side; bright but not blinding. At least not as blinding as the smile glaring down from above me. Far above me. I hadn't noticed how tall he was before.
"I'm glad you're here. I'm going to require your assistance," the older man began, stepping away from me, his hands clasped behind his back.
"Wait!" I blurted out, just now beginning to knit the pieces of my life...and apparent afterlife together. "Are you...Qui-Gon Jinn?"
"Indeed," he answered without turning, and I had to hurry to catch up with the stride of his long legs.
Wait...I was here? With him? And did he just say he needed my help? Was he joking?
"Assistance? What kind of assistance? To do what?" I questioned, the first of many arising in my mind.
"My Padawan is going to need our help. There's not only the matter of his betrothal to the Queen - which is essential mind you, but in the Jedi Council's acceptance of that betrothal. You see, there will be a child..."
The big man stopped and turned to look at me, since I was no longer following him, I suppose. My feet refused to move any further.
"You want me...to help you...help Kenobi?" I stammered in disbelief.
There was only one response I could manage to his statement: