Crossed Wires
By Jemmiah
On.
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On.
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Pause.
On.
Flicker…
Off.
On-off-on-off-on-off….
Obi-Wan looked up at the ceiling to where the lighting was pulsing and flashing with regular monotony. He was finding it particularly difficult to meditate as it was given that he was suffering from possibly the worst hangover he could remember in recent years (thanks to Jay, Simeon and a bottle of strong Alderaani black rum), and the accompanying itch that followed the allergic reaction to that particular beverage. Jemmiah had popped her head around the door to see how he was - or more specifically to tease him - and had then insisted on fussing over him like he was some kind of pathetic invalid incapable of finding the headache pills.
Which, come to think of it, he had been…
On.
Off.
On.
"What in the name of the force is going on?" Obi-Wan declared crossly, easing himself out of his meditation chair with one hand firmly affixed to his head for fear it might suddenly fall off his shoulders and roll across the floor in a drunken stupor.
Off.
On.
"Jemmiah, this isn't helping me!" The padawan shuffled forwards towards the living area. "A joke is a joke! I much preferred it when you wanted to mollycoddle me than torment my double vision!"
He walked a few paces through the opened door and stopped in amazement, wondering if perhaps he was seeing things as a result of his alcoholic excesses the night before. Jemmiah stood in the centre of the room, arms stretched wide apart as if in the middle of some strange and energetic dance. He tried to follow her gyrations with his eyes for a moment then finally gave it up as a lost cause: it was simply too early in the morning for that kind of thing.
"What do you think you are doing?" He asked, shielding his eyes from the flickering lighting above.
Jemmy spun around. "Dancing." She grinned.
"Well kindly stop! My head feels as if there's a Wookiee living in it." Obi-Wan rubbed wearily at his pasty looking face. Jemmiah didn't take much notice of what he was saying, content to twist and jiggle about with typical Corellian enthusiasm.
"Isn't it great, Ben?" She grinned, wondering if she should attempt a split-leap before deciding that her skirt was far too short to make it look half-way decent. "The temple's having a party!"
On.
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Off.
Obi-Wan stared at her as if she were teetering on the edge of insanity.
"What do you mean, the temple's having a party?" He frowned incredulously at her. "Are you saying that this lighting nonsense is nothing to do with you?"
Jemmy placed her hands on her hips.
"No! It's not me. The whole temple's been affected. Something seems to have gone haywire in the energy conduits. I saw one poor boy that'd been to have his first padawan cut. Half of it's shaved and the other looks like a Bantha!" The Corellian applauded wickedly, clearly relishing the memory. "I think it's great that the council have decided to hold a disco. All we need now is a bar and a gambling arcade in the library and we'll all be set for a celebration!"
On.
Off.
Much to Jemmiah's disappointment the lighting seemed to take that as its cue to rectify itself. Her arms slumped dejectedly by her side, although Obi-Wan couldn't help but feel relief.
"Thank the force." He grumbled, as Jemmy snuck her tongue out at him. "It was beginning to get on my nerves! A party, indeed!"
"Yes." Nodded Jemmy. "I like to think so. Maybe the council has realised that they are being stuffy and boring, and want to let the padawans have some fun for a change. Perhaps Master Windu thought we could all do with a laugh." She paused thoughtfully for a moment. "Either that or Firzel's wired the temple back to front."
"Well, I know which I would be inclined to believe." Obi-Wan muttered as he went off in search of a glass of water. "Master Windu…and laughter, together in the same sentence? Master Windu doesn't know the meaning of the word fun…"
"Why don't we have some fun?"
"No!" Retorted an angry voice. "Leave me alone!"
"Don't be shy…"
"Shy?"
Master Windu hurried away down the corridor taking as large a stride as he could possibly manage without drawing even more attention to himself. He'd tried to appear as nonchalant and as dignified as he could, weaving his way through the elegant stone pillars in a vain effort to shake off his pursuer, all the time knowing that he was attracting attention. At first the situation had seemed vaguely amusing - at least to his fellow council members - but frankly the whole thing was beginning to look plain awful.
Stop staring at me! Mace thought furiously at a master and young padawan who had gawped at him as he'd strode past. I am not in the mood for this kind of thing!
"Will you please desist in this childish behaviour!" Mace stopped in his tracks and stared down his nemesis. "I do not have the time or the inclination to continue with this conversation! Return at once to the training rooms!"
"But I love you!"
Mace's mouth twitched convulsively for a moment. "No you do not!"
"I do! Master Windu, I cannot live without you! You are in my thoughts all day and night! Every time you speak my diodes flutter with delight! Do not spurn my advances, I beg you! It would break my restraining circuit!"
"Your restraining circuit is already cracked!" Mace placed both hands on his hips and stared back at the love-struck little training droid that had been following him around the temple for the last half-hour. He'd tried to lose it in the turbo lifts but it had still contrived to find him. He'd even changed direction on more than one occasion but the damned thing had been waiting for him when he got out…
"Do not torment me so, my love!" The little spherical flying droid exclaimed in a metallic sounding wail. "I cannot live without you!"
"This is ridiculous!" Mace snapped. "You are a droid! Go back to the training rooms as instructed and await a call-out from maintenance!"
He wheeled round on one heel, only to find himself staring into the delighted and fascinated face of Dex Berlingside. Mace felt his heart sink closer than ever to his boots. Of all the many thousands of Jedi in the temple, the one individual who he could have done without seeing at that moment was the person who now stood before him, grinning like a Hutt at slave girl auction.
"Having problems, are we?" Dex asked, beaming. "Who's your friend?"
"Sir, if you know Master Windu then I beseech you to intervene on my behalf!" The droid whistled mournfully. "He says our love cannot be! And I cannot carry on without him!"
Dex looked from Mace to the droid, then back again.
"It's a definite improvement on your usual type, I have to admit." Dex struck an admiring pose as he looked over the hovering droid, which was all but wringing its sensors in despair. "A bit small, perhaps. But I can see why you would find it attractive. Same vacant expression. Same shiny head…"
"Will you be quiet?" Mace hissed at Berlingside. "I'm not in the habit of soliciting the attentions of pieces of machinery!"
"I'll bet you say that to all the droids." Winked Dex mischievously.
The little robot's servomotors whirred in agitation as it turned its photoreceptors on Mace Windu. "You heartless reprobate!" It screeched, extending its tiny little arms as if in some frenzy of spurned outrage. "You have been seeing somebody else behind my back!"
"Whoa!" Berlingside stood back. "Time for me to bale out! I don't do domestic scenes!"
Mace dived behind the nearest pillar in search of cover. "Where do you think you're going!" He yelped at Dex, who was slowly shuffling backwards away from the peculiar little scene. "Some help would be welcome!"
"Never come between a man and his droid. That's my motto!" Dex held up his hand realising that an audience had now gathered behind him, including various startled members of the council and a curiously grinning Ki-Adi Mundi and a distinctly worried looking young man, whose scruffy casual dress clearly marked him out as not being a temple resident. One of Jemmiah's friends no doubt, he guessed. And judging by the toolbox held in his hand it would be fair to surmise that Mace's current predicament was something to do with him…
Dex decided he wanted to buy him a drink.
"Varlet!" The droid exclaimed hysterically as it chased Windu repeatedly around the circular column. "Philanderer! You've been seeing another droid behind my back!"
Enough was enough, Mace thought. He wasn't fond of unnecessary destruction but something had to give way. A council member had to appear dignified and in control at all times, and Mace was aware that right now he appeared neither in the eyes of the growing crowd of onlookers. Not wishing to lose his authority further Mace decided that the droid version of 'here-we-go-round-the-dillarberry-bush' was not to his liking, and without a word of warning activated his lightsabre. The little training droid flew straight into the purple column of light and promptly cut itself in two, spilling its inner components onto the ground in a cascade of fried metal workings.
Mace blew out a deep, pent-up breath. Then looked up and realised that everybody was staring at him.
"That will be 200 credits for the replacement droid, Master Windu." Ki-Adi Mundi shook his head, before turning to disperse the onlookers with several unsuccessful waves of his hands.
Berlingside stepped forward, prodding the remains of the droid with his foot.
"I'm truly sorry it ended in such a way." He clasped a protective hand on Mace's shoulder. "But if it's any consolation it would never have worked out between you. You never did like pushy droids…"
"I had nothing to do with this." Mace insisted, nodding at the terrified looking young man who stood quaking next to the diminutive figure of Master Yaddle. "It was him! We were looking to find a cheaper maintenance system for the droids in the temple and Jemmiah mentioned that she had a friend who was used to doing that kind of work and who would be happy to take on the task for a vastly reduced sum of money. I should have know," his eyes blazed straight at the scruffy looking individual, "that Jemmiah's friends aren't to be trusted! He was given three droids to show us what he could do. The first went mad and hooked itself into the lighting, which has caused major systems disruptions all over the temple! The second," he indicated the charred mess at his feet, "you have seen for yourself…"
Dex looked up from the floor. "So let me guess," he said, pointing, "That's the third?"
Over in the distance, looping and spinning in some kind of ritualistic bereavement ceremony like a concussed bee, the third little droid wailed loudly: it's vocoder sending squeals of grief echoing throughout the temple walls. It zoomed over the head of Masters Yoda and Jinn, sending poor padawan Sorrel diving for cover, until it came across the remains of what had once been a much-treasured comrade.
"Eric!" It cried, it's lamentations pitiful to hear. "They've killed Eric!"
And with that the little droid flew straight into the pillar, repeatedly smashing its body against the stone surface until it too burst into a shower of sparks and metal pieces.
"Alas, poor Eric." Berlingside muttered after getting over an initial stunned pause. "Droidicide is never pretty. Must say your tally for today is looking mighty impressive! Two dead in three minutes!"
"There might be a third in a moment," Mace spun around coldly to face the stricken Firzel Eaglebeak, who was rapidly backing away from the scene, "if somebody doesn't remove themselves from the temple precinct immediately! Because if they do not, I will remove them myself via the nearest window!" At which point Firzel dropped his bag of tools and ran for his life, not caring to find out of Mace was bluffing or not.
Windu took a deep breath. This would be a day long remembered - especially by the council.
Ki-Adi Mundi approached Mace with an apologetic smile.
"…And another 200 credits for the second droid."
