Peer Pressure


Scene 4.

"Vos," Obi-Wan hissed. "Would you pay attention?"

The Kiffar Padawan propped both feet up on the table in the Archives study-alcove. "Why? You're doing all the work for me, Kenobi."

"Precisely my point," his disgruntled companion snapped. "How do you expect to pass this astronavigation test if you don't focus?"

Quinlan Vos studied the vaulted ceiling high overhead. "Relax, brother. The Force will find a solution."

Obi-Wan sank into his own chair again, sullenly tapping the datapad's screen. "Fine. I'll stop distracting you from your meditation, then." He lapsed into a pointed silence.

Five minutes later, Vos was sound asleep.

"Stars' end," his study partner grumbled, using the Force to abruptly right the Kiffar's tilted chair.

Its occupant started awake. "Hey, Kenobi! What's eating you?"

One eyebrow crept upward, sardonic. "Some of us are trying to concentrate, while you practice your snoring katas."

Vos stood and stretched, yawning loudly enough to bring the formidable Archivist Jocasts Nu down upon their heads, were she close enough to hear. "I couldn't help it. You bored me to tears with your lectures. So, where were we?"

Diplomacy. Diplomacy.

"Where we started, or possibly not quite that far yet," Obi-Wan muttered. "You do the next problem." He tossed the datapad across the way to his less than scholarly partner, and waited with folded arms.

A half minute later, Vos had finished. "Easy as womprat pie," he snorted. "Got it. Don't know why they make such a fuss about this stuff."

Obi-Wan gritted his teeth and went back to work on his own calculations.

"If you're having a hard time, Kenobi, I'd be glad to help," the other young Jedi offered.

"That won't be necessary."

It was going to be a long afternoon.