Ah, that new story smell. : )
So, I do not own anything, except the characters that do not appear in the Star Wars universe (movies, books, etc.) Everything else is all George Lucas', it's all simply for the fun of telling a story.
This is the third installment of the "Harbor" series. I don't think there will be anything any here that necessitates the reading of the first two, save for the fact that in this version of the universe Amber is Qui-Gon Jinn's daughter. Besides that I believe anything major from the other stories will be briefly explained.
As always, reading and reviewing is love for a writer so please, please, please do both! : )
Flashes of dark rooms. Ghostly, black silhouettes passing in and out of sight. Voices flinging words back and forth at each other. Angry. Bitter. Shrieks and shouts, dissolving into a ghastly quiet. An unquestionable need to run, answered by an inability to flee. Held down by some unknown force, shadows seeping into everything. Choking. Suffocating. Monstrous, blood-chilling laughter rising slowly from the murky nothingness. Unable to move. Unable to think. The demonic cackling growing ever closer...
No, no, no!
Amber Jinn awoke to lungs burning and eyes watering. Inhale, exhale. Breathe you idiot!, her own voice yelled inside her mind. Moments passed before her body was able to respond, finally allowing a rush of sweet air in. It was almost painful. Sputtering, she became aware of how raw her throat felt. She had been screaming again. Not for the first time, Amber thanked the Force for having a room to herself, as did all of the older initiates.
Her face was firmly planted in the cushy, grey carpet. Amber pushed herself to her back, sweeping damp hair back, she sighed. Three nights of this was more than enough for the Jedi initiate. The sheets had taken the tumble along with her and were tangled all around adding to the heap on the floor. Once her breathing returned to normal, Amber felt along the bond she shared with her friend, Obi-Wan Kenobi, afraid her nightmare might have woke him as well. A calm, restfulness was all she could sense from his side.
The bond had existed for as long as they could remember. Both had learned how to control what was broadcast, as well as the ability to shield everything at an early age. Master Yoda had given them lessons, another fact that Amber was infinitely grateful for tonight. Unfortunately, those shields were harder to maintain during extreme emotional stress and sleep. Or both, as evidenced by her current state. She did not have the nightmares regularly anymore, but before she had learned to build mental defenses, Amber would project her nightmare to Obi-Wan. After the first time that had happened, it did not take long for her to acquire the skill to shield.
Unraveling the bedding that trapped her, Amber rose and crossed the small room to the window. The space consisted of a standard issue desk, bed, closet, and small refresher. It was only the bare essentials and that was more than enough for any Jedi. She rested her sweat-drenched forehead against the cool glass. Her eyes darted to the chrono located on her cluttered desk. Peeking out from under a partially opened book, she could see that it was two in the morning.
Coruscant lay beyond the transparent barrier. The lateness of the hour did nothing to cease the never-ending traffic that crisscrossed the city's skyway. The beauty of the glittering lights usually enthralled the initiate, but tonight all Amber seemed to see was the inky black that managed to filter through the illuminated metropolis. Her nightmare was as deeply disturbing as the first time she could remember having it. And, it never changed.
Master Yoda had instructed her to mediate on the dream and then release the feelings it invoked into the Force. Which worked to a certain extent. The fear and sick feeling that was left in the wake of a night terror could almost be eased when she left it to the Force, but the mediation never got her anywhere. Surely, having the same dream over and over again meant something, but Amber had no idea why she had it, where it came from or what knowledge she was supposed to gather.
A few heavy sighs later, Amber moved back towards her bed, ready to make an attempt at a more...peaceful rest. She threw the coverings on top of the mattress and flopped down. Grabbing the blankets, she cocooned herself, snuggling deep within the soft folds. Comfy as she was, it was a long time before sleep found her once again.
"What did you do, stay up all night reading again?" Obi-Wan asked, grinning. He sat down next to her at their usual table in one of the Temple's refectories. Amber gave him a meaningful look and he nodded, "Oh."
Forehead in hand, Amber resumed picking at her eggs. In someways, it was ridiculously comforting to have someone who knew how bad the night terrors were, but she hated that Obi-Wan had felt and lived through it. And all because of her. She could feel his sympathetic eyes on her; his worry slipping through their bond despite his attempts to hide it. Compassion was one of his personality traits that she was most fond of. It was one of the many things that made him Obi-Wan Kenobi.
But, in this case, Amber wished he would just let her be. He knew her fear because she had forced it on him. She did not deserve his concern. And so, they routinely passed moments like these. Obi-Wan silently offering his support, and Amber pretending there was nothing to be concerned about. Luckily, a distraction approached, in the forms of their other friends. Reeft sat on the other side of Amber, with Bant Eerin and Garen Muln taking up the spots across from them.
"Well, is everyone ready for today?" Garen asked as he flopped into his seat, "I hear the first day is the absolute worst! Then, it only goes down hill from there." Reeft let out a strangled moan.
Bant gave him an encouraging smile, "I am sure it will not be that bad. Every Knight has completed this part of their training, so it can't be too horrible."
"We're just starting a new level of our training, Garen. It is not the end of the galaxy," Amber agreed.
Last week their age group had graduated to the highest level of training an initiate could reach before being chosen as an apprentice. Today was the beginning of their new schedules. They were to be challenged in all areas, but each had also been placed in classes that would enhance and compliment an individual learner's natural abilities. There would be more course work, more use of the Force, more of everything. It would be exhausting. But Amber did not doubt that it would be doable, leaving that job to their excitable friend.
"That's not what the older Padawans told me. They said the masters use these classes to see which initiates can hack it. Who should stay and who should go," Garen whispered, eyes darting around as if expecting one of the masters to overhear his words.
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "Yes, and the Senior Padawans would never tell one of us a tale to frighten us," he said, dryly, "Have you already forgotten the time they told you Master Yoda's stew was made of frogs and hawkbats?"
"We don't know that it's not Obi-Wan. Have you ever tasted that stuff? It's disgusting," Garen made a face.
"No, I've not. Only you have had that distinct honor. And if you wouldn't have been trying to round up and 'save' all the frogs in the fountain room, you would not have gotten into trouble and sent to Yoda's quarters where you had to eat the stew."
With that, Garen and Obi-Wan launched into a fresh round of relatively friendly banter. Amber smiled at them. The two had always squabbled over the smallest of things. It had never affected their friendship, but it was very entertaining for those nearby. She continued to watch the boys as she handed off her bowl of fruit to Reeft, who had been eyeing the food for a few minutes, cutting him off before he could ask.
Reeft's eyes lit up and he smiled happily, "Thank you my friend." The boy's appetite knew no bounds and it had always been a kind of running joke among the five.
Bant looked exasperated with Garen and Obi-Wan. The Mon Calamari was a gentle soul and could not stand arguing, playful or not. "Will you two stop? You're acting like a bunch of creche-lings." Garen got in one last comment, before stuffing a large bite of food into his mouth. Bant glared at him, "Whatever comes will come, it will do us no good to worry about it."
Amber glanced at the chrono on the wall. Finishing off her drink, she wiped her mouth and gathered up her finished meal, "That's true because whatever is in store for us has already arrived. We better get a move on or we'll all be late."