Chapter 4: Of Big Brained Biths
Have you ever watched a funeral procession? Not the after funeral party, or gathering where people could care less about the deceased due to all the food, but the actual procession? Well, if you have, then you would be led to think that there was a grand funeral about to begin in Room 35 in the Jedi Temple. To some of the students, it didn't seem to be far from the truth.
Obi-Wan and Bant were apart of the procession and were just about to enter Master Ki'mar's lair. They could have sworn that the room glowed with a sithly red. It was always a mad rush to get as far to the back as possible, somehow – do to a few well timed threats and/or promises – Obi-Wan and Bant were fortunate enough to wrestle themselves into two seats three rows from the back.
Suddenly there was a chilling hush, Master Ki'mar had entered the room. He walked to the front of the room, set a datapad on the desk and then turned his empty gaze on the padawans before him.
One of the many frightening things about him was his abnormally (even for a Bith) huge, glassy black eyes. Unlike a human or most humanoids, you couldn't see any iris or pupil. His eyes were entirely black and the light would cast off of them as they roved, yet one could never tell on whom or what they were focusing.
"Turn to section 5.7 in your text," Master Ki'mar never started with a "Hello, how are you all today," or even, "Good day."
Not a word was uttered as the cowed apprentices flipped through their material. No one even dared to sneeze or itch.
"Start reading from the top of the section to the end of the second paragraph. Put your pads down when you are finished."
The next ten minutes went quietly and without any life lost. It was obvious that many of the apprentices read each paragraph twice, buying as much time as possible. Finally, once they could spare no more time lest they be caught in their devious act, the students simultaneously set there pads on their desks and waited for the next command.
"As you read in your text, the Senate was first established in…" Master Ki'mar's voice droned on and on. It seemed an age but in reality only eleven minutes later that he suddenly stopped his 'jawing' and stood rigid at the head of his carefully organized desk.
No one had ever dared to pass a note or commit the horror of talking in one of Master Ki'mar's classes. The consequences which blossomed in young minds could easily make a Council member have nightmares for a week. But as a wise sentient once said, "There's always a first time."
There was a collective gasp as a long snore cut through the thick silence of the room. There, hunched over his desk, a cheek pressed against a limp arm with a puddle of drool quickly accumulating on his text, was Obi-Wan Kenobi fast asleep and snoring to his death. Bant was already composing a farewell speech for his funeral.
"Padawan Kenobi," Ki'mar said in a level neutral tone. The padawan in question did not respond. His fellows watched in aghast horror as Master Ki'mar made his way down the luckless apprentice's isle, the students in his row melting in quaking fear in Ki'mar's wake.
"Padawan Kenobi," Ki'mar came to a stiff halt at Obi-Wan's desk. He stood rigid, seemingly staring blankly at the opposing wall but that would be too much good fortune on Obi-Wan's behalf.
Obi-Wan in question had been sleeping soundly since Ki'mar had reached his second sentence, happily dreaming about giant dinner plates and pillows. Not long after he had finished his sixth plate, he was startled awake when a pale knobby hand slammed down in front of his face.
With a yelp of surprise he toppled out of his chair and landed with his legs tangled with the chair and the desk while the rest of his body became wedged between his seat and Bant's.
There he sat, blinking in bewilderment at his unexpected relocation, oblivious of his impending doom which presented itself in the form of a big brained Bith.
"Padawan Kenobi, were you sleeping?" Ki'mar asked civilly.
Obi-Wan blinked, hard, "Uh, well, if you consider dozing off for a few minutes sleeping then I'd…"
"Padawan Kenobi, were you sleeping?" The Master's voice rose a level, sending the wedged apprentice into a fit of squeaking excuses. Ki'mar stood, stiff and straight as a regimental commander. With a flick of a finger he quieted all whines without even a touch of the Force. "Padawan Kenobi, you were sleeping in my class. Why?"
Obi-Wan felt a surge of aggravation bubble in his blood. This just wasn't fair, why him? "Because I was tired, why else would I sleep?" A sarcastic note crept its way into his words. Bant began to compose what she was going to say to Master Jinn when he asked about his padawan's demise.
If you asked a witness he or she would have reiterated to you that at that point smoke had begun to seep from the Bith's nose, ears and mouth, "Would you care to repeat what you just said?"
Obi-Wan had had enough. His day had – to put it in un-Jedi like terms – stunk, and at this point he didn't really care if he was about to mouth off to the most feared teacher in the Temple and perhaps second only to Master Windu, "You want me to repeat what I just said? I can't hold it against you that you didn't catch what I said the first time since you're obviously so hard of hearing. I said I was tired, do you ever get tired? No I didn't think so. You want to know why I'm so tired? Of course not but I'll enlighten you anyhow. Do you like to get up at five in the morning? Do you like to have near death bathroom experiences?" His voice rose steadily, "Would you like to have a death wish? Do you enjoy teaching a class in which five year olds have sticks with staining fluids? If you answered yes to any or all of these questions then you would love my life, and if you answered no, well then you'd be tired. Doesn't that answer your earlier question?"
Dead silence. A pin drop would have been a deafening clamor. "Are you quite finished yet?" More silence.
"Do you like questions?" Obi-Wan's earlier aggravation was slowly wearing off, but the exhaust had yet to fade.
"Padawan Kenobi, you are in no position to speak in that manner," It really was an awkward scene, Obi-Wan was stuck and tangled in a most unnatural position dangerously close to an untimely end while impishly 'talking back' to a teacher known for triple workloads.
"Now that you've spoken your mind you can sit quietly through the remainder of class then write a ten page essay about the dangers of a wild tongue but you can think about what you will write while you scrub the kitchens after which you will have even more time while you do the laundry for the crèche ward." Master Ki'mar turned on a heel and stalked back to the front of the room and continued his lecture starting from the "and" he'd left off at.
Obi-Wan suppressed a groan while untangling himself from his twisted position. He pushed himself up into his chair, already dreading the coming hours. But misfortune seemed to be his lot in life, so he might as well get used to it now.
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A/N: Sorry I took so long getting this out but I've been majorly sick and everything got messed up with my brain. It happens when you've got a fever of 102 point something. Hurhur. It's really short but I figured something's better than nothing. I've got bubbles in mind for some future chapter. I've got nothing to say so a few choice shout outs….
Silverrain: Dude, don't die! Did think it was that funny but I'm delighted that ya liked it!
Lia Galanodel: Thanks for the great idea, I was going to just…I don't know what I was going to do but I changed my mind when I read your suggestion, it really helped, I just didn't know what he'd do. Give me more ideas!!! Oh and thank you for telling me what ROFL means!
Jedi Ha'Li: Hey! Lia told me what ROFL means! *beams happily* it equals Rolling on the floor laughing. *Pats self on the back then remembers to thank Lia again.*
Thanks y'all Review some more and give me some ideas so that I can blast this Writers Block Demon! Bill-the-Pony