Reposted 9-16-05: Thank you, LZfOx1379, for once again finding my mistakes and being kind enough to point them out. I love your reviews, and I'm glad that you're willing to take the time to point out my mistakes.
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars. That right belongs to George Lucas. It should be noted that some things are borrowed from Greg Bear and Jude Watson, both who write EU (Extended Universe) Star Wars books.
Writer's Block: The Dark Crucible by Jaxmari. This Star Wars fic is rated M and involves slash. This is a very well written Anakin/Obi-Wan story. It has long chapters, good characterization, and a decent plot. I enjoyed myself immensely when reading this. It's fast paced enough to keep you hooked, but it's not so fast that you don't get a chance to learn more about the characters. Jaxmari's found a good balance of both, and this story's a good read. However, there is a downside to all of this…there are only four chapters posted right now ('right now' being 9-16-05), and the author does not update regularly. So while this story is amazing and wonderful, you'll have to wait for more chapters to come out. But I believe the goods outweigh the bads. :)
I had fun with the last chapter…writing Palpatine was a challenge that I enjoyed. On the outside he displays concern, but you can practically see the wheels turning inside his head. It's fun to write about a character who thinks so oppositely of how he acts—tricky, but fun. A few characters just seem to write themselves, and Palpatine is one of them (for me, at least. I don't know if anyone else feels that way…). We also got a glimpse of why Anakin is the way he is. I tried to use some good metaphors and similes within that chapter, and I hoped they worked and that you liked them. I also had fun with the hologram scene. It's as if—if you let the words form pictures in your head—you're watching someone watch someone else. I like that sort of mind-boggling 'logic.'
The reviews were lovely, and I thank you for them. I'm glad that people are enjoying my story. If you find any mistakes, please tell me. And, if you can remember where it is exactly, can you please point that out too? Sometimes my mind skips over mistakes, since when I'm reading it I may unconsciously 'correct' it in my mind without physically fixing the mistake. So if you point out the mistake and tell me where it is (and any suggestions of how to correct it would be much appreciated), I'll be eternally grateful for you. But if you don't want to look that hard, don't worry. I want to perfect my writing as much as humanly possible, but not at the expense of your amusement. I just want you guys to enjoy yourselves.
Page Amount: 8
Word Count: 6,931
Started 7-13-05, and finished 7-14-05
Listening to: Sting "Desert Rose"
Written by Ice Dragon3
Jedi Genocide
Chapter Six: Hologram
"Hurry up, Obi-Wan! We still have the greenhouse to cover!" Leia yelled as she raced ahead of the weary Jedi Master. She stood expectantly at the top of the stairs that led up to the fifty-third floor. Her hands were fisted on her hips, and she tapped her foot impatiently at Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan gave the steps a pained look. "Stairs," he groaned out, as if the word was the worst curse imaginable. And at that moment, it could have been for Obi-Wan; in the past half-hour or so he had already been dragged through nearly every room in the house—twice. He could, unquestionably, see her thriving in a role of leadership: she could be a slaver driver when she wanted to.
Leia had raced around the house, showing off artwork—she breezed over the famous paintings, instead gushing over her crayon 'masterpieces' taped to the fridge—and demonstrating the use of this or that appliance. Obi-Wan had been hard-pressed to keep up with the energetic girl. Often, she would wander from room to room, doubling back and forth in her enthusiasm to show Obi-Wan everything at once. He had viewed a pristine kitchen (which was not used often, judging from the way the sink still gleamed with that new-steel look), a formal dining room (likewise unused), and many other rooms in such immaculate condition that Obi-Wan wondered if they were ever used.
However, when they entered the living room Obi-Wan gained an inkling of an idea of why the other rooms were not used. The living room could be summed up to juice stains on the carpet, small holes in the plaster, permanent marker scribbles on walls with failed attempts to wash them off, couches lumpy from constant jumping on, and toys and trinkets scattered haphazardly around the big-screen TV that was the focus of the room.
To state an understatement, the decoration in this room was less formal, and the entire feel of the area was a much-lived in one.
Yes, Obi-Wan would have forbidden the usage of the other, more formal rooms if this, too, would be their fate. Not even rooms deserved this kind of abuse.
The first floor of the house (though it technically wasn't the 'first' floor, being floor fifty-one of the giant building) had consisted of the formal, intimidating rooms and the one well-used living room. The second floor contained bedrooms, mostly. There was also a playroom filled with Leia's doll collection, Luke's toy gadgets, and their shared video games and gaming systems.
The second floor had a much more relaxed atmosphere to it, and Obi-Wan felt some of his mangled nerves untwist as he allowed the twins to lead him around. He imagined that formal company only saw the first floor, being as the décor for that level was both elegant and intimidating, speaking of boundless wealth. It was almost paradoxical, the difference one set of stairs made. Where the first floor's decoration was cold and calculated, the second's was warm and pleasant.
As Leia dragged him down the hallways, Obi-Wan had seen more glimpses of permanent marker and carpet stains here and there. One of the permanent marker stains looked particularly beautiful, the black of the ink dribbling down the wall in a rainbow of colors. Anakin must have tried to wash it out with water right after the deed had been done. Obi-Wan smiled at the naïveté of Anakin's parenting skills. A somewhat pro himself from raising younglings—most particularly Anakin, who had had a mischievous streak in him as a child—Obi-Wan knew better than to try to wash out freshly drawn permanent marker with water. The water only diluted the black, making the ink run down in colorful streams that created an even bigger, if more beautiful, mess. The only way to deal with those markings successfully was the tedious and messy task of painting over them.
But he couldn't take in many of the finer details of the hallway drawings because Leia quickly dragged him into her room. He stepped through the doorway, and in doing so entered a young girl's world. The walls were one huge mural, an on-going painting of a medieval time with dragons and castles and knights. Obi-Wan smiled when he saw that all the white-armored knights were females with curly brown hair and fierce, expressive brown eyes. It was details like that that made his day. Leia had many of the objects common to wealthy, young Coruscanti girls. These were the latest fashions that defined some of the shallower creatures: a flowy canopy bed, heaps of stuffed animals, and expensive dolls. But the bed was unmade, the stuffed animals loved to the point of falling apart—he saw a few missing eyes and stuffing sticking out of small holes in necks—and the dolls off their shelves and scattered across the floor. One or two of the dolls even seemed as if they had survived (just barely) inexperienced haircuts and makeup makeovers.
Leia shoved a picture into his hands, an expectant look in her eyes. "It's for you," she clarified.
Obi-Wan looked at the crumpled paper, and saw a drawing of four people—or, at least, he thought they were people, but he couldn't be quite sure—with colors splattered here and there at random intervals where a colored pencil had graced the paper.
"I made it myself," Leia said proudly.
"I can see that," Obi-Wan said, unsure of what to make of it. "…It's very good. I think…that's me, right?" He pointed to a short, round man with brown lines crossing over his face in what he supposed was a beard. He was wearing what looked like a rectangle of brown. While she had remembered the beard, apparently the picture-him needed no hair on the top of his head.
"Yep!" Leia replied enthusiastically, proudly. "And there's Daddy"—she pointed to a tall stick figure in poorly drawn black clothes—"and there's Luke"—a little stick figure with gold hair (a figure who, unfortunately, Leia had forgotten to draw clothes on)—"and there's me!" She pointed at the stick figure to the left of Obi-Wan, which had curls of brown hair sticking up everywhere in a messy afro. "That's my favorite dress," Leia explained, pointing to the triangle of blue that covered the lines of her stick figure.
'Does she really think I'm fat…? I am the only figure portrayed by a circle, of all things…' Obi-Wan mused. He was half-insulted, half-endeared, and entirely touched by Leia's obvious attempt to display her affection for him on paper. "My, that is indeed a pretty blue dress that you're wearing."
Leia beamed; apparently he had said the right thing. "I was thinking of wearing it tomorrow, so you'll get to see it then, okay?"
"I can hardly wait," Obi-Wan assured her.
"You know…" Leia said shyly, "I made this picture to give to you when you came here. See, it's everyone in the family!" She waved her hand at the crumpled drawing, grinning hugely. She bounced on the balls of her feet, energy and happiness not allowing her to keep still even as she waited for a response.
Obi-Wan was strangely subdued by the comment. Perhaps the gravity of the situation finally caught up to him; perhaps he only didn't know how to respond. But whatever it was, it made him think. What, though, he wasn't sure. "Why yes, I see that everyone is here… When did you make this, exactly? You've been with me since we got here, so I don't know when you found the time…and I'm sure it took a long time, being drawn so skillfully." He supposed she had drawn it some time today, but he couldn't figure out when.
Leia paused, her forehead wrinkling in concentration. "About a year ago...I think. That's why it got so crumpled," Leia said apologetically, "because Daddy accidentally stepped on it when we were rearranging my room last month. And two months before that Luke threw Molly—she's my doll friend, you see—and she landed on it."
"I see," Obi-Wan said quietly, swallowing his shock. "Well, you can be assured that it will live for many more years, and that I'll keep it in a safe place near me at all times." Obi-Wan folded the picture gently (the creases didn't change the state of the rumpled paper much, so he didn't feel too guilty about damaging it further) and put it in his tunic, in the pocket covering his heart.
Leia smiled brilliantly at him, overjoyed by the compliment. Shoving the current topic aside, Leia said excitedly, "Now you can meet Molly and Polly and the rest of my dolls!" Leia hurried over to a small round table, where a few dolls were seated. "We were having teatime when Daddy made us leave to visit you, so we never got to finish our tea and biscuits. I'm sure that we can find another tea cup, and I know that Molly and Polly would love the extra company." Leia looked back at Obi-Wan and whispered in a voice that screamed 'conspiracy,' "They don't get much of a chance to talk to guys. I can't find any good guy dolls and Luke'll never visit them again—he said that after the first time."
Obi-Wan was saved from having to talk to dolls all night (he had a suspicion that Leia wanted to hook him up with Molly and Polly) when Luke tugged on the back of his tunic. Thankful for the distraction, Obi-Wan quickly turned to him and asked, "Yes, Luke, how may I help you?"
Perhaps he asked the question too eagerly, he reflected as Luke backed up a bit. "I just wanted you to see my room, is all," he said quietly, nibbling on his bottom lip slightly. His calm brown eyes stared up at Obi-Wan pleadingly.
"I would love to, Luke," Obi-Wan responded. "Leia, we'll have to postpone my meeting of Molly and Polly and co. It might be for the best, anyways; now they have a chance to prepare themselves for our shared…teatime. They can put on their best dresses and makeup…and whatever else…it is that dolls…do…" Obi-Wan ended the sentence on a rather pathetic note.
Leia gasped, hands flying up to cover her mouth as if she couldn't believe that she had forgotten something so important. She became a whirlwind of action, rushing around the room and digging up this or that doll outfit while chattering inanely. From the response, Obi-Wan guessed he had said the right thing to occupy the young girl. He was a bit out of his element here; he took care of younglings, training them to become Jedi. He didn't have daily contact with many children who lived 'normal' lives. While he received regular visits from Leia and Luke at the Temple (unfortunately shadowed by Anakin), he didn't live with them day-in and day-out. He still didn't know how he was supposed to entertain and take care of them for twenty-four hours straight. Maybe he'd start dumping them on C-3PO, as Anakin seemed fond of doing.
"This way," Luke said, walking down the hall to a nearby room. He opened the door and let Obi-Wan enter before closing and locking it. "It's to keep Leia out," he explained, "or else she would keep blabbing on and on and I'd never get a word in." He grinned shyly as Obi-Wan laughed.
Obi-Wan surveyed the room, taking in everything. "You have a nice room here," he commented, meaning it. Luke's room was a mixture of mystery and machinery, fact and fantasy. The walls were coated thickly in pure black, but the many star systems painted onto it in brilliant colors and details kept the dark walls from becoming too claustrophobic-like. Obi-Wan looked more closely at some of the planets. "Are these real systems?" The one he was observing looked remarkably like Naboo…
"Yes, and they're all in their correct coordinates too. Well, as accurate as they can be, since they're painted on four walls and a ceiling instead of being portrayed three-dimensionally with a holoprojector," Luke admitted. "Everything is as precise as possible. I like reading about faraway planets, and it's nice to be able to actually see them on my wall. It helps put everything into perspective, you know? See, we're…right…here." Luke pointed to a planet painted right above his bed's headboard.
The planet under Luke's finger seemed to glow, almost like a sun, and was covered almost entirely by lights. But instead of the warm yellows, bold reds, and sometimes blue-whites of stars and suns, this light was a stark white. It was a realistic picture of Coruscant, nearly indistinguishable from what Obi-Wan saw every time he left or entered the planet's orbit. But he hadn't traveled to other systems in nearly four standard years—there was simply no reason for him to do so, and he had the younglings to look after. Besides, he doubted the Empire would have allowed it anyways, with its desire for absolute control. He had forgotten just how Coruscant looked, just how visible it was, from space. It was like a lighthouse, beckoning to weary space travelers. Droves of which came to the city-planet every standard year in the form of immigrants, pleasure-seekers, and political powers.
Obi-Wan's gaze slid over to a section of the wall that held more black than planets and stars; and those systems that were there were scattered about haphazardly, disconnected from one another. The Outer Rim, he assumed.
He noticed something floating in what he had presumed to be empty space, its color varying slightly from the absolute black around it. A closer look showed it to be a deep purple—so dark it was almost black—space-creature drifting between star systems; it's miniscule, gleaming white teeth had been what had caught his eye. Its shape combined elements of a snake, crocodile, and shark. The head of a crocodile, with rows of razor sharp teeth grinning, flowed fluidly into a body that was more serpentine. The four clawed feet of the creature were webbed and laid sideways on the main body, seeming more like fish fins than actual legs. The thick body slithered back and forth, curling like a snake's form and ending in a thick tail. The back of the creature was covered by the slightly protruding armor of a crocodile, with one extremely sharp-looking dorsal fin spiking upwards to help it steer. Its round eyes blazed a brighter white than its teeth—a white so pure and devoid of color that it seemed impossible—and he would have thought it blind but for the fact that he could see razor-thin black slits in the center of each white orb. The white seemed to swallow up the black, making the irises nearly invisible. "What's that?"
"Oh, it's the mythical space-crocodile that's said to hunt down pirates. His name is Gorgonth. He tracks down the crooks of the galaxy and gulps down their ships in one bite. He consumes only those who are evil, so he is considered the protector of virtuous space travelers. If you see him and he lets you live, it's believed that you'll have good-luck with deep space traveling for the rest of your life. But he hasn't been spotted in millenniums." Luke ran a small hand over the crocodile reverently.
"That's quite a piece of folklore you have there, Luke. I've never heard it before, and frankly, I wish I had. I could use some good luck with space traveling—or any sort of flying, for that matter—and seeing him would be a good omen. If you were to live, that is." Gorgonth's white eyes seemed to watch him, the black slits moving undiscernibly to follow his movements. The entire creature—from its body structure to its grinning teeth—told of viciousness, and Obi-Wan couldn't help but wonder how it came to be associated with 'good.'
Luke shook his head. "While he's the size of a small moon, he jumps from black hole to black hole, making him nearly impossible to spot. He's rarely seen." Luke sighed wistfully.
Obi-Wan settled a comforting hand on Luke's shoulder. "Well, maybe you'll be the lucky person to see him."
"I can only hope." Luke smiled wirily; it was a mature expression for one so young.
The rest of Luke's room was filled with contents of equal fascination. Pictures of mythical beasts, hanging models of star systems, half-finished machines in the process of being made, and charts filled the room to the brim. Obi-Wan was amazed that such contradicting interests could coexist so easily within Luke; one could say they even thrived off each other. The Gorgonth story was a prime example of how Luke had twisted space technology and mythology together in a way so artistic that it nearly became a craft.
Obi-Wan was brought back to the present by Leia's shouting. "Come on, Obi-Wan! It's only a couple of stairs…be a man!" While dressing up her dolls had preoccupied Leia for a while, eventually she had come pounding on Luke's door, demanding entrance. Obi-Wan had been forced to open it, lest she broke it down with her forceful knocking. She had then tugged impatiently on his tunic, dragging him away to show him the greenhouse. Which had led to their—or more to the point, his—current predicament: stairs.
Already worn out by all the running involved in keeping up with Leia, Obi-Wan was ready to call it quits. But Leia insisted that he see the greenhouse, and Obi-Wan knew that he would never get a moment of respite until he bowed down to her wishes. "I'm coming, I'm coming," Obi-Wan called back, taking his time to walk up the stairs. Satisfied that he was indeed coming, she skipped off to find the next thing she wanted to show him. When she was out of view he muttered, "Slave driver."
However, the climb was well worth it: when his foot finally made contact with the topmost step, he was met with an awe-inspiring view. Small trees, ferns, flowers, and a massive variety of vegetation thrived in the room. Some of the species, most likely, had never existed side-by-side before, having grown on entirely different planets. A small red bird flew past Obi-Wan's head and he stepped back in surprise. His foot half-landed on air, and he nearly lost his balance; if he had, he surely would have tumbled down the stairs. Heart pounding a bit at how close he had been to breaking his neck, Obi-Wan made sure to stand farther away from the stairway.
"Don't mind him, he's just the show-off of the group," Leia declared, unaware of how close Obi-Wan had come to falling.
"You mean there's more?" Obi-Wan questioned, still trying to take in the predominantly green (although many other vibrant colors protruded in pockets here and there) foliage.
"Yes, a whole bunch! Of every color and species imaginable!" Leia held up her hands, arms and fingers outstretched to their fullest extent to show just how many birds there were. "Daddy tells me that this floor is not only owned by the plants, but by the animals. We have to respect them, and be polite 'cause we're intruding in their home. And we have more than just birds in the greenhouse. Nothing harmful lives here, but there are tons of exotic creatures that you can find hiding in the plants, if you have the patience to let them come to you. I've only seen a handful of them," Leia confessed. "Luke's the one who can practically name them all, the nerd." Leia rolled her eyes, though Obi-Wan could tell that she was a little envious that she herself couldn't do so.
"Master Obi-Wan?" a mechanical voice exclaimed, surprise and delight evident.
Obi-Wan turned around to witness C-3PO walking stiffly over to them. "Threepio," Obi-Wan called out joyfully. "I didn't know that you were here! I didn't see you at all downstairs."
"Well, I should think that it would be obvious that I would still be in the services of Master Anakin, sir. He is my maker, after all, and I am eternally indebted to him. Not to mention that he is a good master…I've seen the state of some of those other droids…simply terrible, really. Honestly, is a good polishing and buffing too much for a droid to ask for? To see the dismal state of some of them, you would think it costs a limb to do just that!"
Obi-Wan grinned at C-3PO. "Same as always, Threepio." He clapped a hand on one of C-3PO's metallic, golden shoulders. "It's a wonder that your circuits haven't melted with all the fussing you do."
"Why, thank you Master Obi-Wan…I think…" C-3PO twisted his upper torso side-to-side slightly, as though in agitation or thought, and he added as an afterthought, "Oh dear, I fear that I have just been insulted."
By that time Luke entered the room; he had stayed behind in his room for a bit, saying he wanted to try to finish his tinkering on a nearly completed cleaning droid. "Threepio's up here a lot to help me take care of the plants and animals." Luke gave Leia a pointed side-glance. "See? I do give credit where it's due."
Leia mostly ignored the petty insult, responding only with a flip of her hair and a disdainful sniff.
Sensing that a full-fledge fight might occur if Luke continued his jabs, Obi-Wan said hastily, "Thank you both for showing me around the house; that was an experience in itself. I'm getting tired, though, and if you two could kindly point me in the direction of my room…" Obi-Wan drifted off as he yawned (for the most part, to say on his behalf, the action was real).
"Oh, sure, of course! Right!" Leia said, scrambling past Obi-Wan to rush down the stairs. "It's this way." She hurried off down a corridor and out of view.
Luke chose to walk by Obi-Wan. He said happily, "Dad already has a room made specially for you, so you don't have to worry about sleeping in a spare bedroom. I know that I don't like it when I have to sleep in a room that's not my own. It's just too…different."
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at Luke's first comment: so Anakin had already made a room for him, had he? He knew that Anakin had been trying to get him to live with his family for a long time, but he'd never taken the time to actually consider that Anakin might have had a room pre-made specifically for him. The action was arrogant; as if Anakin was certain that Obi-Wan would eventually give in to his demands. "Well, I am overjoyed to hear that I will have my own personal room. I'm sure that I'll sleep much better there than on the couch. Although I had been prepared to do just that…"
"Nope," Luke said. "Dad's thought of everything." Reverence and respect were easily discernable in Luke's voice.
"You really look up to your father, don't you?" Obi-Wan asked quietly.
"Yes, I do. He's a good man," the young boy said proudly. Seeking Obi-Wan's approval, he asked him, "Don't you think so?"
Obi-Wan remained quiet for a moment, focusing on the tick of his mechanical knees as he walked. Opting for the half-truthful response, he replied, "Yes." Anakin was a good man; he was an evil ruler. 'Power corrupts the best of us,' Obi-Wan thought sadly.
When Obi-Wan and Luke finally got to Obi-Wan's bedroom door, they were met with an impatient Leia. "What took you so long?" she snapped out.
Obi-Wan looked at her, a serious and reproachful expression on his face. "You shouldn't take that tone of voice with anyone, Leia. It can be considered insulting, and you could hurt someone's feelings."
She opened her mouth, looking as if she was going to protest, before she snapped it shut again. "Sorry," she said stiffly, before twisting a curl of her brown hair guiltily. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone's feelings. I was just tired of waiting."
"I know you didn't mean to be hurtful, and that's why you have to be especially careful when choosing your words. It's that sort of carelessness that leads to accidentally inflicting emotional damage. And psychological injuries are much less visible and much more harmful than physical wounds. It's harder to know when you've inflicted it and how to heal it. That's why you need to be careful with what you say," Obi-Wan said gently, in a kind but firm voice. It was the sort of speech he would give one of his younglings if they had acted this way. "Now, I take it this is my room?"
"Yes," a more docile Leia said. But she bounced back quickly and exclaimed, "I can show you around here too! There's lots of stuff in there—"
"Thank you, Leia, but let's leave that for another day, shall we? I want to have a bit of alone time to explore my room. I'll probably meditate and go to bed after that, and I doubt that you two are interested in those functions."—Leia and Luke both shook their heads—"I thought so. I'll see you two in the morning. Make sure not to stay up too late—if I hear any loud noises, I'm going to get Threepio to put you to bed," Obi-Wan warned them. "Goodnight." He closed his door to two echoing 'goodnight's.
With the door shut, Obi-Wan leaned against it and sighed. Finally, some respite. But he still couldn't rest. While he was now very familiar with the house floors, he was still clueless about the layout of the rest of the building. If he was going to take this opportunity of Anakin being gone, he better act quickly; there was no telling how much longer business would occupy Anakin.
Obi-Wan looked at the clock on his dresser, and its red numbers read 10:21. Late, but not too late, Obi-Wan decided. Anakin would probably be away for a while still, if he was lucky. Obi-Wan noticed that his suitcase was already in the room: that was probably C-3PO's work. He went over to it and took out a pair of thin, pliable leather gloves. As he slipped the soft material on, he flexed his hands experimentally. The gloves were thin enough to let his fingers move freely, and would keep his fingerprints off any objects he happened to pick up or touch. He placed a lock-pick kit in one of his tunic pockets. His fingers brushed up against Leia's drawing, and he quickly removed it and set it on a nearby dresser; he didn't want the picture to get lost or damaged. Into the pocket also went a jamming device (it would temporarily stop the functioning of any machine it was shoved into), a decoder, and a data-stick.
Letting himself out of the room, Obi-Wan crept down the hallway. The TV blared, the kids glued to the screen as they watched something on the HoloNet. Making sure to avoid walking past that room, Obi-Wan exited the house unnoticed. Stepping into the hallway, he wondered where he should start his search. He made his way to the elevator, and decided to start at the top of the building and work his way down. However, as his hand strayed dangerously close to pushing the 'down' button of the elevator, he stopped. Using the elevator was too obvious and noisy. He moved off to the side and found a small, hidden door. He opened it and saw that it was what he both wanted and dreaded: stairs.
'Well, look on the bright side,' he thought, 'you've already covered three floors; only fifty more to go.' He started walking down the staircase: fifty seemed like an impossibly large number at the moment. He was already tired from all the walking at the zoo and the house, and his metal legs weren't helping. While they were durable, they were also harder to move because of the material's dense and heavy nature. And their reaction time was always just a bit off, due to the fact that his nerve commands had to be converted into computer data and then back again for his body to communicate with the machinery. Normally Obi-Wan could deal with these slight difficulties easily, but constant stairs, long distances, and stressful situations were nibbling away his self-reserves.
He stopped at the first door: floor fifty. As Anakin had told him before, it was completely empty. Not even a droid or camera was in sight, and when he wandered around he found that all the rooms were vacant. Floor forty-nine was the same, but for the sake of being thorough Obi-Wan searched there also.
It was at floor forty-eight that he started to meet some resistance. The stairway door was locked, and Obi-Wan spent precious minutes fiddling around with the picks until the lock sprang open. He wasn't too experienced with this sort of work (namely, thievery and spying), and while that was something he was proud of, it also made his job exasperating. Everything he did was an experiment, and he knew that he was wasting time but he didn't know how to correct that. Having a bit of practice in the field of picking locks would have helped him, and kept him from wasting valuable minutes. One blunder could make the difference between living and dying, and he didn't like the fact that he was feeling his way through all of this.
But the fact that he only needed the lock-picks, and not the decoder, to open the stairwell door meant that the floor didn't hold anything of great valuable. However, that would also mean less security measures, which made it a good place to mess around until he got a better feel of how to do his job. Obi-Wan was hoping that Anakin kept materials on this floor that he wanted easy access to; probably nothing of too much importance, but perhaps some things of personal value. It was close to the home floors so Anakin could easily walk or ride the elevator down to this level. It was a convenient location.
What Obi-Wan was hoping was that, on this floor, he could get a clue of the man Anakin had become.
He was searching for, if not a weakness in the Empire, a weakness in Anakin.
Walking down the hallway silently, Obi-Wan kept his senses alert. He sent out a gentle wave of Force power to sweep the entire level. He detected no movement from any of the rooms. When he decided the floor was completely devoid of life, he went back to his starting point and began his search by opening the first door on the left. Once again, a physical lock held up his procession. Obi-Wan growled softly in frustration: having to physically pick the lock took longer than simply using the decoder.
Finally, the lock sprung with a slight click. The door swung open silently on well-oiled hinges. Obi-Wan quickly entered the room and closed the door behind him. He examined all the corners of the room, searching for a camera. Having found none, he then took the time to observe his surroundings. Obi-Wan rifled through storage cabinets, but found nothing of importance. Blank papers…pens…paperweights…the room seemed to be used to hold office supplies. Once, Obi-Wan got his hopes up when he saw a spiral notebook, but when he flipped through it all the pages were blank.
Deciding that the room held nothing important, Obi-Wan replaced everything carefully, locked the door from the inside and let it shut behind him with a click. No wonder there weren't any cameras. If this was just a storage level, he would find nothing more important here than equipment. The two rooms after that were equally unrewarding. One held spare droid parts and the other electronic equipment.
By the time he had come to the fourth room, his lock-picking skills had improved. It took only a minute to open this door. He walked in, expecting to see the exact same thing as the rooms before or something equally meaningless to his objective. But he halted quickly when he discovered that this room was different.
It was a small room with no windows, lined with shelves holding data files that ran along all four walls. The wall to the right was mostly bare, as if waiting patiently to be filled. In the center of the room was a holoprojector that seemed to be in working order. For a second, Obi-Wan worried that all the disks were blank, and this was just another storage room. But a closer inspection revealed that each disk had a label on its case. Excited, Obi-Wan started on the shelf to the left of the door, top row, and read a few of the labels, still not touching anything.
A…AA…Abandon…Abashment…Abattoir…The last made him shiver—he knew what he would find on a disk labeled 'slaughterhouse.' He examined a few of the other shelves, and realized that everything was in alphabetical order. His hand almost touched the 'Abattoir' disk, but then he let it drop. No, he was not ready to view that yet. Instead, he drifted over to another wall and scanned the titles of the disks over there. One title, 'Peace,' caught his eye and he pulled it off the shelf. He took it out of its case and inserted it into the holoprojector. Pressing the play button on the machine, he watched intently. He was curious of what Anakin would keep in a disk labeled peace. Would the disk show a secret peace-treaty, a denouncement of peace, a scenic view that Anakin thought was calming?
For a few seconds the blue light shone from the holoprojector in abstract shapes. Then the shapes clarified, and Obi-Wan was—
Staring at himself.
"What?" Obi-Wan muttered to himself, puzzled. The holoprojector brought into focus younger versions of himself and Anakin; they and the surrounding scenery were coated in a layer of blue caused by the projection lasers. The thin sheen of blue gave everything a surreal feel. Obi-Wan managed to contain his surprise and focused on the younger him and Anakin. It was disconcerting to watch himself. The holographic figures were sitting down in a heavily wooded area, just…talking. Apparently they were having an argument, but it was done playfully. Neither he nor Anakin seemed willing to back down. Anakin smiled and laughed; the action was disquieting with the sound off. Fiddling with the holoprojector, Obi-Wan was able to get audio.
"—got us into the mess, and you'll get us out of it, my young, troublesome Padawan," the holographic Obi-Wan said. He sat himself down on a tree stump and looked expectantly at Anakin. "Well?"
"That's what I've been trying to say to you all this time, Master!" Anakin exclaimed as he laughed again. "I have a plan."
"Of all the missions you could mess up on… This isn't even a difficult assignment…" Obi-Wan rubbed the heel of his palms into his face. "I'll be the laughing stock of the Jedi Temple… Mace Windu will be breathing down my neck for weeks on end, and Yoda will look even smugger than normal…ugh, he'll probably try to give me advice again… 'Tame that apprentice you must, Obi-Wan!' 'Try bribing with chocolates, Obi-Wan.' 'Maybe if you held your lightsaber at a better angle, respect you your young Padawan would more.' "
"Well…since you are learning a new fighting technique, your stance is pretty sloppy right now…" Anakin added helpfully. "I mean, it's gotten to the point where I can beat you pretty easily."
"Once," Obi-Wan groaned. "That was only once, and it didn't count. I wasn't feeling good that day."
"Maybe I'm just getting better," Anakin said amiably, chest puffing out a little.
Shaking his head, Obi-Wan said flatly, "No way, I'm not going to admit to that until you actually start practicing like I ask you to. You can't just prance around, expecting everything to fall into your lap…you have to work for it."
"Aha! You said 'admit'! So that must mean that I am getting better!" Anakin brandished a finger at Obi-Wan's sitting form. "And you always tell me at lessons that my blocks are horrible…"
"They are: it's your swings that are decent," Obi-Wan muttered absently, gazing around at their surroundings.
Anakin ran a hand through his hair (the action very similar to a preening rooster). "I knew it," he claimed smugly.
Obi-Wan sighed and mumbled to himself, "I knew I shouldn't have said that… It'll take a thorough whomping in lightsaber duels to knock that arrogance out of him again…"
"I doubt you'll be able to, Master. Not with that stance and my improved fighting skills." Anakin puffed up even more. Obi-Wan muttered something unintelligible in response. Anakin ignored whatever was said, and sat down by Obi-Wan. Since there was no room on the tree stump, he seated himself on the grass right by Obi-Wan's feet. "Okay, now that we aired out a few well-hidden compliments… I have a plan to get us out of this situation."
"Zounds, not again." But Obi-Wan straightened up a bit and gave his full attention to Anakin. He grinned as he sat on the grass by Anakin (in doing so making them of equal heights). He explained his actions to his slightly mystified apprentice: "It's so that when you tell me your 'wonderful' plan, I'm not floored—can't really fall to the ground if I'm already on it."
"Haha," Anakin said dryly, although the corners of his mouth quirked upwards against his will. "Great pun there, Master."
"I try," Obi-Wan said, pleased with himself. "Someday you too, Anakin, may understand the fine art of puns."
"Anyways, as I was trying to say before I was rudely interrupted…"—Anakin gave Obi-Wan a meaningful look, which his master pretended not to notice—"I have a plan. While the Gungans weren't happy with our entrance—"
"You pierced one of their bubbles with your reckless flying!" Obi-Wan exclaimed. "I don't think 'not happy' covers it. That entire section of the city was swamped with water… We're lucky they didn't do more than just deposit us in the swamps and threaten us to stay away on the penalty of death."
"Boss Nass remembers us from before, I'm sure he'll let us come back—""The only reason we weren't executed on the spot was because Boss Nass was indebted to us! I think he feels that his debt has been covered. Any return on our part won't be met by sympathy and understanding on his part."
"Not helping." Anakin rolled his eyes. "We still need to give that apology note to Boss Nass from the current Naboo Queen…we can't rest until our mission is completed."
"Why did she have to have Jedi deliver that note to Nass? I mean, what are we, a droid delivery service? Should I start charging for distance? Perhaps we should start asking our clients to fill out forms rating our performance, and hand out discount coupons if they are dissatisfied and start complaining," Obi-Wan grumbled, folding his arms in his cloak.
"I thought Jedi were supposed to be complacent and accommodating, Master. You don't seem very complacent right now," Anakin teased. "How can you expect me to follow your teachings when you don't yourself? You're not setting a very good example for my impressionable, young mind…" At Obi-Wan's dark glare Anakin added quickly, "I think she asked Jedi to send the letter because she wants to make a good impression—by sending us, she's showing that the letter is important enough to her to put in a little extra effort."
"And their argument all started over whether or not the Gungans should share their underwater plasma mines with the land-living inhabitants. Honestly, there are plasma mines in the mountains and plains of Naboo…why couldn't the Queen just search there? But no, she wanted to take the easiest route and mine the all-ready found sources…and look were she ends up: she got nothing out of the Gungans and stressed their already stressed relationship. What a nightmare." He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. The growing lengths were starting to stick up from all his fretful ministrations. "And the Jedi Council assigned us to this mission specifically because we had—note that I used the word 'had,' not 'have'— good relations with the inhabitants of Naboo…"
"On the bright side, I don't think we'll be getting any more Naboolian assignments in the near future," Anakin added optimistically.
Obi-Wan just gave him a look, not even gracing the comment with a response. He sighed and leaned his head back up against the tree trunk.
"Look, since you obviously don't want to hear out my plan, you'll just have to follow my lead, okay Master?" Anakin asked. "I've got it all figured out…everything will turn out all right, I know it. I have your trust, don't I?" Anakin looked at Obi-Wan, his face serious as he searched his master's eyes for the truth.
Obi-Wan grinned and ruffled Anakin's hair affectionately—ignoring Anakin's halfhearted protests that the action was degrading—and said, "The Council would have my head if they knew I was taking orders from you."
"Obi-Wan…?" a voice rang out, its source clearly not from the holoprojector. It held surprise and suspicion.
The hologram still playing in the background, Obi-Wan turned around and said weakly, "Hello, Anakin…"