Notes: I'm so dumb! Obi-Wan is 57 in ANH, not 52! *kicks self* Yes, I know, dearest Kenobi-Wan does look sort of like a vain arse, don't he? But, this is humor… and to be funny, it must be OOC :D Ok, maybe 'must' isn't the right word. I figure he's gotta have a pretty strong attachment to his lightsaber, (the glowing one, folks, not the other kind) as all good Jedi do. Anakin is a clumsy arse who constantly loses his. Need I say more?
Oh, yeah, and before I continue, let me warn you… I despise Anakin the 18-year-old. So there won't be any sort of Anakin diary forthcoming… but perhaps I'll do one for Qui-Gon and Mace Windu.
On with the… uh… fic?
SM 1/17/32 BBYI hate transit barges. Wait… this is a diplomatic shuttle. I hate shuttles. This one smells like Master's refresher unit at the Temple. I once had to go in there to retrieve a bandage for my arm as I'd run out of my own. Oafy-Wan indeed. That was before I became such an amazing duelist. Master's refresher unit smells unpleasantly of feet. He claims mine smells worse, only I'm used to it, but I doubt it. If anything, I smell great. Young hot Jedi sweat is sexy, especially if the young hot Jedi in question got that way through combat with his sexy lightsaber. The ladies love a man who knows his weapons. At least, I think they do. Damn Jedi rules. I'm quite jealous of all my friends on the 'outside' who go clubbing night after night. I want the ladies to hang off me for a change!
Sorry, lost my composure for a moment. I'm getting serious cabin fever here. I despise flying, especially on slow-arse pink barges. I sort of like the faster ships, though. Master let me learn to pilot things, like the Jedi Starfighters. Apparently I'll need the skill later in life. I think he just can't fly himself and he's worried that we'll get stuck somewhere. Hah! I always have to save my master's arse.
We're landing soon. On, the joys of politics. With any luck things will go painlessly and quickly. I don't really want to get into a fight. I'm not a coward, of course, but there's something… icky about killing. Simulations are great, but when you spill real blood…
One Jedi rule I do heartily agree with: unnecessary violence sucks. Ok, so maybe I'm paraphrasing. Someday I ought to write a novel titled: "The World According to Obi-Wan". I bet it'd be a best-seller.
Master wants me up front for the landing. Says we need to make a good impression. I think I'll take you along, just in case one of the pilots decides to poke through my stuff while we're away.
SM 1/19/32 BBYWhat a day! Talk about your aggressive negotiations! (By the way, for future reference, I coined the term. Don't let any of the other bloody Padawans tell you differently. They're always trying to steal my thunder.) The Nemoidians (aka wingless mynochs) took a hostile stance to out presence. Can you believe they tried to gas us? Good thing me and my Master can hold our breath. We kicked some major droid arse. On, I kicked some major droid arse. It was like a simulator. No bloodshed! We were very nearly killed when we decided to hitch a ride on one of the transports flying down to Naboo. The Trade Federation Federation is planning a large-scale invasion which, in my Master's words, is a bold move. I wonder what made them do it, because it seems like a stupid move to me. It can't possibly be legal. Hah! I actually might sit in on the senate hearing for this. I'd like to see this Nute Gunray guy get torn apart by the Republic Senate. What kind of parent names their kid 'Nute' anyway?
So now I'm stowed away aboard a Trade Federation transport ship. Well, at least it's not pink… but it does stink to high heaven in here. It's like musty, oily robot parts. I hope it doesn't sink into my robe. I'm glad I brought you with me though (great, now I'm personifying you). The ship we came on was destroyed – Force save the souls of the two pilots. Besides, this gives me something to do. I ought to be paying attention to what's going on… but nobody's going to find me, anyway. This ship is full of deactivated druids that will only become active if someone attacks them. Well… that cuts out the prospect of me destroying them all before we land…
Maybe those planetary stats will come in handy after all. It looks like we're going to be down there a while. I hope I manage to locate my Master. We hid aboard separate ships. He's such a scatterbrain sometimes. But I have to give him credit… his methods usually work. He was almost through a pair of blast doors before the Nemoidians called out their Destroyer Droids. I despise fighting druids, but destroyers are the worst sort. They have their own bloody shields! You can't get close enough to cut through them because the things fire high-powered laser bolts from their arms at very high speeds. Bastards! Next time I see one I think I'll chuck a thermal detonator at it.
Why do I get the feeling machines are going to be the death of me?
I think this death-trap is landing. I'd better cut a rout out the bottom. It'd be hard to try and leave through the front door.
