Wow, I haven't written here in a long time. My last attempt was DISASTROUS-hopefully this one will turn out better. At least this one has a plot.
I don't really expect anyone to actually read this except maybe my brother, so I'm not writing for anyone but myself. I would LOVE constructive criticism, though.
I only wish I owned all these characters, but unfortunately, George Lucas does. So I suppose I should give him some credit for creating this universe. And everyone in it. Except for the ones that I actually made up. You'll be able to pick those out pretty easily. Also, I don't usually stick to George's characters' personalities, so forgive their OC-ness, please!
Chapter One: THIADHD
645AM
"You're like me. Aren't you. You can See things, too."
Obi-Wan turned and stared back at the young girl, looking into her large, vacant grey eyes. He didn't answer. He didn't have to. She knew. He knew that she knew. He turned and walked away from her.
Those eyes—those vacant, dull grey eyes. Did others see that in his own eyes?
Obi-Wan woke without a start, simply opening his eyes to look up at his ceiling. Dawn was just beginning to touch his blacked-out window. Without glancing at the clock, he knew it was six forty-five. He always woke precisely at six forty-five.
You're like me. Aren't you.
Strange. It had been a dream. Usually when he Saw things, he woke beforehand. And he never dreamed at all. Perhaps it wasn't a premonition. Had he been careless lately? Sometimes, when he was uneasy about being found, he Saw himself discovered like that; it never actually happened. Likely, he had nothing to worry about.
He stored the dream in his subconscious and put it out of his mind. He had other things to be concerned about today, like the history test he hadn't studied for. Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan's master, was psychotic about good grades, and if he failed one more history test, he was going to get it.
His eyes were greyer than usual, he noticed as he washed his face and brushed his teeth. He had to remember to blink convincingly while interacting with other people today. He had learned from experience that not remembering to blink led to answering questions and enduring odd looks. His mission in life was to be as normal as possible in all the right areas; it caused the least suspicion.
After dressing, he walked out to the kitchen. His master wasn't eating breakfast; perhaps he had an early meeting. Obi-Wan decided to skip breakfast in favor of studying for that history test. He settled on the couch with his datapad, thankful for the solitude his master's absence provided. He really should have studied before the day of the test. Diligence was not his strongest virtue.
736PM
Qui-Gon rapped on Obi-Wan's doorframe after dinner as Obi-Wan sprawled on his sleepcouch, by all appearances studying. He was actually talking to Garen and playing solitaire, but Qui-Gon didn't have to know that. Obi-Wan waved his master in without looking up, opening his precalculus notes to cover up the social networking site.
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said by way of greeting, not quite fondly, but not coldly. This was the first they'd spoken all day. "How did your history test go?"
"Well enough," Obi-Wan responded, sitting up and giving Qui-Gon his full attention. Qui-Gon leaned against the doorway. He wouldn't come in and sit down. He never did. "I don't expect full points, but I certainly didn't fail."
"Again," Qui-Gon pointed out. By his facial expression, Obi-Wan presumed it was supposed to be humorous, and he smiled accordingly. But he felt no amusement from the single word; only sharp rebuke. Sighing slightly, he intentionally hid his irritation behind his practiced pleasant face and waited for Qui-Gon to say what he came for.
"I was wondering," Qui-Gon said after a moment. His tone was a study in casualness. "Did you have a dream last night?"
Obi-Wan saw no point in lying to his master. "Yes."
"I felt it."
"So I assumed,"
"What was it? It woke me up, though I can't figure out why."
Cocking an eyebrow, Obi-Wan asked, "What time did you wake up?"
"Oh, it was about four o'clock, I think. I dozed for another hour before going to work out. I'm not used to being awakened in the middle of the night, since you almost never dream."
"Interesting."
"What's interesting?"
"The dream woke me up at six forty-five." Perhaps he'd had the same dream repeatedly, and wasn't remembering it. That would be even more unusual. When on occasion he did have a natural dream, he remembered every detail, along with what time he had it at how many times he had it within one night.
As if reading his mind, Qui-Gon suggested, "Maybe you had the same dream twice."
Obi-Wan shrugged, dismissing the topic. "Maybe. Did you have a good day, Master?"
Qui-Gon sighed. "Oh, I suppose. Did anyone tell you we're leaving Friday for Taliadan?"
Obi-Wan shook his head.
"Oh. Well, we're going to Taliadan for a basic diplomatic mission. Your specialty," Qui-Gon added, flashing a smile. "Some farmers are having difficulty with their landlords, and they've asked for Jedi assistance to straighten things out."
Familiar rage rose in Obi-Wan's throat. He had planned to go see a holo-vid with his friends Friday evening. He hated his plans being disrupted. Hated it. It made him feel like he had no control at all over his life. He'd had the whole week planned out: college counseling Monday, history test Tuesday, private kata lesson Wednesday, precalculus test and holo-vid Friday, then swimming and lunch Saturday with his friends. He hadn't expected to be sent on a mission, or else he wouldn't have planned anything for Friday or Saturday.
Qui-Gon must have read his anger on his face or in his mind, because his face sobered. "There's no need to be angry," he said with a hint of warning. "It likely will only take a week or two."
Letting his anger dissipate as he let out his breath, Obi-Wan nodded. "I know. I'm sorry," he added quickly. He met Qui-Gon's eyes as his master blinked. Whoops. He wasn't blinking. He blinked twice rapidly to make up for his mistake, glad to have something to focus on besides his disrupted schedule.
"Don't apologize," Qui-Gon said kindly. He was watching Obi-Wan carefully, but apparently hadn't noticed that he wasn't blinking. "Did you have other plans for the weekend?"
Obi-Wan shrugged. "Not really."
Qui-Gon accepted this. "Our flight leaves at eight fifty Friday morning. We'll have to be at the port by seven fifty, so plan accordingly."
Obi-Wan nodded. Now that his business with his Padawan was over, Qui-Gon would go back to his work in the sitting room. Sometimes, Obi-Wan thought Qui-Gon thought he was more roommate than student. Well, he was seventeen, after all. True to his predictions, Qui-Gon said a quick goodnight and left the room. Obi-Wan went back to his solitaire and conversation with Garen.
645AM
Obi-Wan woke at exactly six forty-five, as usual, on Friday morning. With only twenty minutes until they had to leave for the spaceport, he was glad he'd packed the night before.
Waiting for his shower to heat up, he tapped his fingers impatiently. He felt rushed and restless. Frowning, he forced himself to calm down as he methodically showered and dressed. Impatience was not a virtue.
No time for breakfast. Obi-Wan brushed his teeth and packed some last-minute things—sleep clothes, toothbrush, comb. He walked out to the sitting room at nine after seven. Qui-Gon already sat on the couch, waiting patiently without a book, datapad, or magazine to distract him. His bag was packed on the floor beside him. Obi-Wan felt a flash of irritation just thinking about sitting there, waiting, doing nothing. He didn't know how he was going to survive the forty-minute drive to the spaceport.
Qui-Gon smiled absentmindedly but didn't say anything as they left their apartment. He turned on the radio after fifteen seconds of silence in the speeder. Obi-Wan tapped his finger on the armrest, breathing intentionally and focusing on the buildings whizzing by.
"Something bothering you?" Qui-Gon asked ten minutes later when Obi-Wan started bouncing his knee in addition to the finger-tapping.
Obi-Wan forced himself to be still. "No," he smiled, and turned back to the window. After several seconds he started bouncing his knee again. Qui-Gon didn't comment.
HYPERSPACE
By that evening, Obi-Wan hadn't calmed down, and he knew his restlessness was Sight-induced. He hoped it would be a short episode, preferably while everybody else on the flight was asleep. But there was nothing he could do about it. He could only wait and try to contain himself until he had the vision; then he would calm down. His eyes weren't turning dark grey yet, so he had at least another day or two before it happened. The thought of another day or two of this constant impatience was excruciating, but he'd have to make it through.
Qui-Gon was preoccupied by something, Obi-Wan could tell. As soon as they entered hyperspace, he disappeared to the sleeping chamber he and Obi-Wan were assigned to with two other of the ship's passengers. He was working on something, and didn't speak to Obi-Wan, or anyone, the whole day. Obi-Wan didn't really mind, as he spent most of his time exploring the ship and talking to the pilot. He should probably be studying for the precalculus test he'd have to take when they reached Taliadan, but he was far too restless to sit down and recommit polar coordinates to memory.
HYPERSPACE
The next morning after breakfast, Qui-Gon made him sit down and go over the mission details with him. The restless feeling had grown, and reading the brief was mental agony for Obi-Wan. He couldn't concentrate. It was all he could do to sit still and stare at the page.
"Obi-Wan, look at me," Qui-Gon said loudly. Obi-Wan jumped, realizing Qui-Gon had said his name several times. He put down the datapad and tried to focus on his master. "When negotiations start, I want to you stay out of it. Things could get heated, and you need to listen and focus on learning…"
Obi-Wan zoned out, eyes leaving his master's face to rove over the room. He would never understand why all the spaceships he'd ever been on had one color scheme: white and grey. It was as if the spaceship makers had a secret agreement to make their passengers go crazy by theming all interior in sterile med center colors. On a good day, spaceships' lack of décor exasperated Obi-Wan. When he was this hyperactive, it was claustrophobic.
"Obi-Wan, are you listening to me?"
"Yes?" Obi-Wan turned back to his master, mentally berating himself even as his thoughts bounced away again. He hoped this episode would come soon. He couldn't take this much longer.
"Are you feeling all right? Your agitation is a little distracting."
"Yes, of course." Obi-Wan smiled, convincingly, he hoped, and looked back at the mission brief on the datapad. This was torment. He prayed for it to be over soon so he could go back to wandering the ship and assaulting the pilot with questions and irrelevant anecdotes.
Finally it was over. Qui-Gon dismissed him but then called him back just as he was leaving the room. "Is something wrong, Obi-Wan? You're acting strangely."
"Oh, I'm fine," He remembered absolutely nothing about the mission, though he'd just spent fifteen minutes learning about it. "I just have THIADHD."
Qui-Gon's eyebrows rose.
"Temporary Hyperspace-Induced Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder," Obi-Wan explained, smiling innocently.
Obi-Wan could see his master mentally rolling his eyes. "Well, all right then. Go stare at a fan or something, then," he said with no small amount of humor in his tone. And Obi-Wan left to wander the ship and assault the pilot with questions and irrelevant anecdotes.
938PM
By the time they got to Taliadan, Obi-Wan was starting to get worried. He hadn't had the Sight episode yet, and though he'd gotten used to his restlessness, it was far from gone. Four days was longer than the restless stage had lasted before, and he'd been able to sleep at night. Usually the night or two before the episode, he couldn't sleep at all. He'd expected that to happen the second or third night of their flight, but he'd slept all nights of the trip.
Qui-Gon had gotten used to Obi-Wan's mental agitation as well, it seemed, because he hadn't mentioned it to Obi-Wan again. He was more worried about this trip, Obi-Wan sensed, than he let show. Obi-Wan wondered why. It seemed simple to him. Perhaps Qui-Gon was worried about something else completely unrelated to the mission. Or perhaps Obi-Wan was rubbing off on Qui-Gon and both of them were unnecessarily restless right now.
Whatever it was, Qui-Gon didn't confide in Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan had figured better how to contain his hyperactivity, and was able to recall what he knew about Taliadan as they waited to disboard the ship.
It was a small planet with a small sun in a small system, only recently discovered by Tach-aiken Igregios two hundred fifty years ago. There was no intelligent life on the planet when it was discovered, although there were signs of previous life. A few species, mostly human but some humanoid, had settled on Taliadan soon after its discovery. The land was rich and perfect for agriculture, which was what the Taliadan settlers came for. Their primary crop was a leaf called semnia, and they exported thousands of shiploads of the stuff every quarter. Obi-Wan couldn't quite remember exactly what it was usually used for, but it made wonderful tea.
The pilot announced that the passengers could now disembark. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan collected their few bags and went to stand in line near the exit.
"Do you know where we are staying?" Obi-Wan asked, looking up at his master.
Qui-Gon looked down at Obi-Wan, smiling briefly. "Yes, Galun Reiduy is setting us up in his own personal estate, in his guest chambers. You know, I had hoped he would offer us a hotel or allow us to come up with our own lodgings. He wants the negotiations to be on his turf, and he wants to have us under his thumb. He's very intelligent. There's a reason he's the biggest landowner on Taliadan."
"Ah," Obi-Wan shuffled along with the line as those at the front slowly moved through security. "And how are we getting to the mighty Reiduy's estate?"
"He's promised to send his personal chauffer."
"Oh, of course," Obi-Wan nodded. He bumped his fist impatiently against his leg as he waited.
After three more meters, Qui-Gon let out a puff of air and spoke through clenched teeth. "Will you stop that infernal figeting. It is driving me up the wall."
Oh. So Obi-Wan had irritated Qui-Gon. His stomach tightened as he forced himself to stand still. That was why Qui-Gon had been avoiding Obi-Wan the whole trip. He bit his lip both in regret and in an effort to contain himself. It still wasn't easy.
They finally reached the ship's exit ramp. The instant Obi-Wan breathed the fresh air, he felt his entire body relax and his restlessness dissipate. That was odd, he thought a little dreamily. He looked up at Qui-Gon and saw a similar relaxed look on his master's face.
Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "Semnia is used as a sedative in medical procedures. The scent acts as a mild sedative to those not used to it," he explained. "I was warned about that."
Obi-Wan nodded. That made sense. He put his bag on the x-ray belt and took off his boots for security. He concentrated on staying alert; he was very sleepy. Well, it was nearly ten in the evening here. Hopefully their host would not want to stay up late to chat. Obi-Wan just wanted to go to bed.
1024PM
As it turned out, Galun Reiduy was not even home when they arrived at his estate. His butler, a humanoid with a muted green complexion and very long ears, informed them politely that Master Reiduy regretted the date it fell on, but he was making his monthly rounds of his fields. He would be home tomorrow afternoon. The Jedi learned from him that Reiduy's wife and teenage son were, however, home, and would be honored to dine with the Jedi Knights the following morning. Obi-Wan said no more than was required of him, having fallen asleep in the speeder. He was very glad he did not have to act the perfect houseguest just yet.
Before he went to bed, he glanced in the mirror and noticed with mild alarm that his eyes had turned a deep charcoal grey.
320AM
"Thank you," the young man said earnestly, looking into Obi-Wan's eyes. "Thank you so much,"
Obi-Wan smiled warmly. "I am glad to have helped you and your daugher," He glanced down at the young girl, who stared up at him with wide eyes. His stomach turned and he quickly looked back at her father. "And I am glad we can part amiably."
"Yes," the young man nearly laughed. "Yes, so am I. You are not likely to need it, Jedi, but if ever I can help you in any way, you need only ask." His striking green eyes crinkled at the corners. "It is not as much as I should do, but it is all I can."
"Thank you," Obi-Wan inclined his head.
"Master," A young man Obi-Wan had never seen before touched his elbow. "Our transport is leaving,"
Obi-Wan nodded, gripped hands with the father. Then they both turned and walked away, the father back to his home and Obi-Wan toward his transport, following the young man with reddish-brown hair who had called him master.
His supposed Padawan was several paces ahead of him when he heard a quiet voice behind him.
"You're like me. Aren't you. You can See things, too."
Obi-Wan turned and stared back at the young girl, looking into her large, vacant grey eyes. They had been the same striking green color as her father's a moment earlier.
He didn't answer. He didn't have to. She knew. He knew that she knew. He turned and walked away from her.
Those eyes—those vacant, dull grey eyes. Did others see that in his own eyes?
Obi-Wan woke without a start once again, opening his eyes to stare at the unfamiliar ceiling. His body felt drowsy, though his mind was wide awake. He struggled to sit up, then looked at the luminescent clock. Three twenty-two.
He was hot, burning from the inside. He had the sudden urge to scratch off his skin and crawl out. He was too weak to do anything more than throw off the covers. He couldn't breathe; each breath came as slowly as if he were still asleep. He tried not to let himself panic, but he couldn't help it. The familiar itch at the base of his skull started, warning him of an episode. Obi-Wan welcomed the relief from this awful heat but something darker in his mind warned him that he would much prefer discomfort to what he would See this time.
Each breath echoed in his head as the room went black. He slowly fell back into the sleepcouch and soon he couldn't feel it at all.
