Jedi Dreams (Thread II): Critiques welcome as per usual

Trying one more time to pop up the post. (I really do NOT want to have to start a third thread! mad.gif mad.gif mad.gif mad.gif mad.gif mad.gif mad.gif mad.gif mad.gif !!!!

 

I just read two most excellent posts!
I love this story!

 

Okay, I'm trying this one more time . . .

BTW, if this does happen to work, and you can see this message, and you would like to be added to the "Jedi Dreams Fanfic Emergency Distribution List", (ie. you want me to e-mail you the next post when the server goes down to buffer the withdrawal symptoms from JC fanfic) , please e-mail me at Bionerd77@aol.com.

If you have already posted on this thread, I put you on the list for your faithful readership. (If you want to be removed, e-mail to the same address. )

Hoping this post unlocks the thread. --AWK

 

Just moving this up from page 3. Uppity up oh thread!
Thanks for e-mailing me the last two posts, Alli-Wan! cool.gif cool.gif That was awesome! And since I know that you have more ready, I decided to up this thread so you could find it easier to get it posted.
I love this story!

 

I just finished reading the second e-mail installment you sent Alli-Wan, and I just wanted to re-state the sentiment I sent to you after the first e-mail:

<BLOCKQUOTE><font size="1" face="Geneva,Verdana, Arial">quote:</font><HR>From me: Thank you so much for sending this Alli Wan. It really warmed my heart
to see your kindness and thoughtfulness in sending this latest installment
of your outstanding story. You have such a profound gift as a writer and I
thank you for sharing this with us!

Alli-Wan, as a human being, you Rock!!

 

Greetings!

The server seems . . . better. (I hope.) In any case, thank you all for your kind compliments here and over e-mail. It seems the "Jedi Dreams Fanfic Emergency Distribution List" is a worthwhile institution. I think I'll keep it.

For now, here is the next post in the story (and if you are on my list, I e-mailed this to you already, although there has been slight revisions.) If you are not on the list, or joined later, there was a post during the crisis that you may have missed. (It's readable now.)

For now, enjoy, and I will keep thinking.
--AWK

********

(He flipped. He flipped. People aren't supposed to flip.)

Ev Loki sat in the grass under a large elln tree at the side of the road, trying desperately to make sense of his afternoon. And waiting for his pants to dry.

Although stopping in his current location was more a circumstance that had been thrust upon him than a conscious choice (he had tripped over a large root and fallen in the grass as he desperately tried to escape), it really was an ideal spot to organize one's thoughts or even to meditate. The broad leaves above provided ample shade, the wellet birds nesting nearby accented the air with their light piping songs, and a small brook chuckled behind him. Unfortunately, Ev was not seeking meditation at the moment. The shade left him chilled, the birds were irritating, and the bubbling stream only reminded him of . . .

(Why did I do that? I haven't done that in years!)

It was horrible. It made him feel like, . . . like a little baby, who couldn't control himself and was too stupid to know any better.

(I shouldn't feel that way!)

But how did that kid do it? Ev tried to sort his jumbled impressions into some sort of chronological order. He had seen Axin. He had seen the Flipped Boy, but he hadn't flipped yet. He noticed how weird the kid was. (Maybe he wasn't human. Maybe that was it. Maybe he was just a human head on a pole and that big robe held some sort of alien that could fly because humans aren't supposed to flip like that.) But his brain protested that conclusion. The Flipped Boy had taken his robe off. And it sure looked like he had arms and legs and a head like a normal person. But he wasn't normal. He was the Flipped Boy. (It just doesn't make any sense!)

No, that wasn't true. One thing made sense. He had been made to look like a fool. An idiot. A clumsy, slow, kelp-brained half-wit. (Why?) He wasn't supposed to look like a fool. (WHY?)

Because that Stupid Flipped Boy with his Stupid Hair and his Stupid Robe and his Stupid Pretty-Girl Braid had been . . . protecting Axin. Axin! Of all people! He wasn't supposed to feel stupid around Axin! Axin was supposed to feel stupid around him!

The wellet birds stopped their singing, all wooing and courtship displays halting as they sensed a change on the wind. Ev didn't notice, still wrapped tightly in his own meandering introspection. He did not notice the splashes in the brook as something large made its way across. He didn't feel the air grow the slightest bit chiller as something blocked the light still more, deepening the shade he sat in and holding back the sun's warmth. Ev did not sense these things.

But he did hear a voice.

"Hey kid, you didn't happen to see any Jedi around here, did ya'?"

 

Greetings! A long post to chase away all lingering effects of fanfic withdrawal. A bit of Axin to start the weekend. Gotta go turn eggs. Enjoy!

********

"Mrs. Gantos sure takes a lot of naps Mom." Tebla frowned, hoping Axin was not suspicious. She remembered her earlier conversation with Zelle, and how sure she had been that Axin had not discovered the fact that Master Jinn and Obi-Wan were Jedi. She was still certain of it. Axin was his usual, boundless, hyperactive self, and as she had explained earlier, as much as such a thing would seem to defy some fundamental law of physics, Axin's energy level would be hundreds of times higher if he knew. (No, thousands of times higher.) However, just because he didn't know the truth didn't mean he didn't suspect that something was up.

"She's just very tired Sweet-one. She stayed awake all night, and she also worked very hard all afternoon. Plus she has a lot of work to do later on, but nothing to do right now. It's the perfect naptime." She sincerely hoped she had managed to hide her concern. But the effort seemed in vain.

"Why is she going away Mom?" Tebla stifled a gasp. (I can't tell him. I can't tell him that. He's too young to know such things. And I don't even know the why of it.) She tried to evade him, knowing deep in her bones that such efforts would be futile. Axin could turn any everyday conversation into an eager inquisition.

"Why do you think she is going away Sweet-one?" Axin rolled his eyes.

"Mr. Gantos said they were leaving at lunch Mom, remember?" (How could Queen Bauble forget her friends were leaving?) "If Mr. Gantos goes, Mrs. Gantos has to go too." (Who would make his lunch and give him milk money if Mrs. Gantos didn't go?) Tebla suppressed a sigh.

"Yes Axin, I remember." (What do I tell him?) She thought back on the young Jedi's answers, and successful tactics she had used when Axin asked the tough questions. Sometimes the best policy was to answer honestly, but with as little detail as possible. ('Where do kelp lambs come from?' had been a particularly trying question. Tebla had honestly answered, 'the livestock auction.' Surprisingly, Axin had not yet taken the next obvious step in his line of questioning, but Tebla was definitely not looking forward to explaining to him that humans did not come from 'people auctions.') With a shudder, she suddenly remembered the morning's misunderstanding. Sometimes children did come from auctions, though how she could possibly believe Obi-Wan to be one of those children was something she could not comprehend. "I don't know why, Sweet-one. They just have to."

"Oh." Axin pondered this in solemn silence. He never thought grown-ups would ever just HAVE to do something. Having-to-do-something was for kids. And grown-ups decided when kids had-to-do-something. That was just the way of the galaxy. Or at least that was what Queen Bauble told him. (She was a queen, AND his mom, so he guessed she was a good authority on the matter.) But then again, even Obee-one HAD to do things because Mr. Master told him to, even though he wasn't a kid. But droids were like kids; they had to do stuff that people told them to. (Even if it meant going away.) Axin pouted miserably at that thought. Not only was Mr. and Mrs. Gantos going away, Obee-one and Mr. Master were leaving too! It wasn't fair! Who was Axin going to play Jedi with now? And who was going to tell him about all the neat things on other planets and at the Core and about science and ABOUT JEDI if Mr. Gantos was going away?

"Are they going with Mr. Master and Obee-one?" Tebla smiled wanly and ran her now dry hands through his hair. They had just finished mopping up the floor with towels (how on terra he managed to get so much water on the floor just by washing his hands she would never know) and Tebla was grateful that all the water had come from the sink and not the commode. (That would have been tough to explain when Zelle woke up.) "Yes Axin, they are going away with Mr. Master and Obi-Wan." She knew how deepl

 

Hahaha! That was awesome! I love those Axin posts!
And now that you've posted the other one too, I can ask my questions. Who was it that asked Ev if he had seen any Jedi? Will he figure out now that 'The Flipped Boy' is a Jedi? Haha, I loved that!
I love this story!

 

This story is just too wonderful! I love how Tebla calls Axin "Sweet-one." I just get the mental image of my little brother.

 

Greetings. Bastet, you will find out soon who our mysterious interrogator is. As for Ev figuring it out, I haven't decided yet.

For now, here's another post. (Hope they like gourds.)

--AWK

********

"What . . . Is . . . THAT?" The cook raised his eyes from the green and yellow-striped, knobby object cradled in his hands and turned to his colleague.

"It's a gourd." Meegie continued to stare at the bright object, stark against his dark hands.

"Yes. I'm aware that it's a gourd. Perhaps I should have been more clear: where did you get it, and why do you have it?" He smiled.

"I got them from a farmer." (THEM?) "They are having a festival tomorrow. A festival for gourds."

"Them? How many did you get?" The cook shrugged.

"Enough. I thought we could have our own festival. The farmer and his wife were telling me all about it. Apparently there are gourd-carving contests, gourd-juggling contests, gourd relay races, gourd lifting. I thought it would be a nice way to keep us all in shape on the voyage back. Plus they are good for you, and there are all sorts of ways to eat them. Gourd custard, gourd salad, gourd noodles, gourd soup in a gourd bowl, gourd griddle cakes, gourd meal--" Meegie waved a hand at him to stop. "It's just fascinating how much you can do with these little wonders of nature." With a sigh, he returned to contemplating his gourd while Meegie stared at the datapad on the counter in dawning horror. The datapad reading "A 1001 Recipes for Gourds."

"Mm, uh, my friend, where did you put all of this . . . produce?" This was a pleasure cruiser, not a cargo ship, so while space was at less of a premium, it was still a concern. Plus the food storage units were already packed to the gills. (And shouldn't gourds be refrigerated?)

"In the crew quarters." Only a supreme act of will stopped Meegie from screaming an exasperated 'WHAT?' She pressed her lips together and began to take deep calming breaths through her nose.

"How . . . many . . . cabins?"

"Uhh, three or four. We'll all just have to bunk up until we eat them." (Three or four? They were three to a room already!) "And don't worry, I turned the heaters down in those rooms so the gourds will stay nice and fresh."

"We wouldn't want them to go bad," Meegie mumbled morosely.

"After all, it's not as if we can just dump rotten gourds into hyperspace." Meegie sighed silently. It was hopeless. She had learned through years of painful (and sometimes nauseating experience) with this man that once his . . . unique culinary mind was made up, not even a rabid wampa could change it.

"Which cabins?" Carefully, Meegie noted the room numbers, wondering how she was going to find places for everyone to sleep tonight. (Maybe I'll just make the ship a time-share.) After all, if someone was on duty twenty-four hours a cycle, then they certainly couldn't all use the bunks at once. (Except I think some are on time-share already.) Meegie left. (I will not whine, I will not whine.)

Settling herself at the reception desk, she made the rearrangements and sent out notices. And dealt with the complaints. "Why are there crates of gourds on my bunk?" "I'd hate to be a bother, but I need socks and I can't reach the closet." "Gourds. . . I'm in heaven." The last was not signed, and had been sent on an account set up in the name of their custodial droid. (Little pranksters.) Making a mental note to monitor activity on Elbee Seven-nine's supposed account, Meegie began going over the departure checklist. Another group of tourists came in, headed for the refreshment booths, and another group headed out, dutifully applying sunscreen as they left. Slowly she noticed a presence that wasn't leaving. Putting down her datapad, she plastered a professional smile on her face and looked up.

"How may I help you, Mr. Kelp?" The large man grinned.

"Where's the food?" A low rumbling sound emanated from his midsection.

"The main kitchen isn't serving a meal right now, but the grill is open one deck down. Or if you like, you may order room s

 

Oh my, those posts were great. I love the interaction between Tebla and Axin...the scenes were so WAFFy. And recharge his batteries indeed. *giggles* All moms need to know how to do that in order to keep up with hyperactive kids. It was sweet seeing how maternal Tebla is with Obi-Wan.

The poor crew...that's a lot of gourds. Time-share indeed. Eep...the suspense continues to increase. eek.gif

Alli-Wan, keep up the great work and hope to see more posts soon!

 

WHOOOOOHOOOOOO!!! This keeps getting better and better Alli-Wan! I can hardly wait to see what happens next.

 

Please give us more Alli-Wan!

I love how someone sent the message signed by the droid. Sounds like something I would've done.

Oh boy! A Gourd festival! Methinks Mr. Master and Obee-one will be attending.

 

It happened again! NOOOO!

Well, in any case, you probably know Darth Server was acting up again, and I haven't had time to be back since. In any case, here's the next post, in case you didn't get the e-mail. Enjoy!

--AWK

*******

Everything is perfect. My team is assembled and waiting to strike. All we need is him. You're good Jedi, but all your mystical Force powers won't help you this time. We beat you to the punchline. Besides, how strong is nature when you have science on your side?

I can feel you coming Jinn. I can feel it. Soon. So very, very soon. I wonder if you can feel it too, feel it in your bones. I'm going to break those bones. Soon. Very soon. I wonder if you will still be alive when I do it. I hope so. I want you to live to see your failures. I want you to see them die. I want you to know when the ship explodes. I want you to outlive the kid; they'll be no legacy for you other than the one I've created. I want you to see that legacy before you die.

That's the price you pay for crossing me. You're good. Almost better than me. It's such a shame to kill you; after all you've kept my life interesting for so long. But your existence is too much of a liability.

And that's the price you pay for trying to stop me. For getting in the way.

Gantos has his own price to pay. I'll have to kill his little missus first. And the ship. He'll have to die knowing about the ship. Knowing that all those poor . . . innocent . . . tourists died because he couldn't keep his blasted mouth shut. Traitor to the cause; he was too stupid to see his own potential. After all, if he had any sense in his head, he'd perfect it. Strengthen it. Then take it himself and come back to destroy us all with the merest thought. But you're too stupid Gantos. A million ideas and no common sense. But you've seen too much. And your wife's seen too much, and that's all your fault.

That's the price, and payment is overdue.

So I sit here in the shade with the team, sipping from our canteens, trying to feel you out, Jinn. The men still haven't found you, but as I have sat here I realize there's a reason for that. You are what you are, and you will not be found by mere mortal men. And you won't be stopped by mere mortal men either.

So there is the team. We tried it first on Smedsen. Expendable, but at least if it worked it wouldn't be wasted. Then my most loyal men. But before them, me. Of course me. I took the highest dose of all. A calculated risk. There was no telling if we could all take it. That hack we got after Gantos kept telling us that adverse reactions are always possible. That when you use a virus to change the DNA, the body can rebel. We almost lost Teli, but it would have been a small price to pay for what we have gained. And when we find our next Gantos . . . your kind will become extinct Jinn.

There's just so much we can do with it. Take over the Republic? Why not, when the defenders of justice become null and void. Sell it on the black market? Give everyone your special powers. Maybe, if we keep the best formula for ourselves, keep our superior position. Survival of the fittest is dead. Survival of the ruthless. We make and remake our own fitness. I sneer upon your Force-gods or whomever you believe gave you your so-called powers Jinn. I've bottled your blessed gifts. And soon we'll have the blueprint back. Let your forces choose the Jedi; I choose the future, and yours will be coming to an end.

Soon. So very, so very soon.

Yet still I wait. If it is so very soon, shouldn't someone have seen him by now? Any word Guff?

"Treehouse." And immediate answer to my summons. I'm glad I kept you for this one last, sweet mission Guff. I could not stand inefficiency impeding my moment of triumph.

"Status?" As if I ever ask anything else of you Guff.

"No sign of our quarry on the roads, nor in the town. Muscles and the Professor have infiltrated the ship in question under the guise of passengers, and have reported no further problems. All men are at their post

 

Just trying to pop up the post, AGAIN! rolleyes.gif

 

WHOOOHOOOO!! Thanks so much for the e-mail Alli-Wan, this story is a treasure.

Keep up the great work!!

 

The Force is telling me Darth Server is hiding a comment. rolleyes.gif

 

Another post...cool! And thanks for the e-mails, Alli-Wan, that's a wonderful way of getting around darthserver(tm).

 

Thank you for the post and the wonderful e-mails! What a wonderful way to start my day than with Axin and Obee-one!

Can't wait to see what happpens next! More please!

 

Greetings! A post, and actually in the forum this time! Amazing!

BTW, I would again like to express my thanks to all of you who have been reading and commenting, as well as my amazement that you've kept reading for so long. My WORD file for this story is now (drumroll) 203 pages long! (I didn't realize I was so long-winded. ) In any case, it make that horrible dissertation I will have to write in a few short years seem a little less daunting.

For now, a new post. I thought I had neglected Putbil long enough. Enjoy, and thank you again for reading. --AWK

*******

Putbil sighed. They were making him wait, . . . again. Not that he minded waiting, per se. He was a farmer and quite accustomed to waiting. All the fertilizer and genetics in the galaxy could not change the fact that chaffa required four months to grow. (And five months for winter chaffa.) Yes, waiting was just a part of his life.

But his family was also a part of his life, the part of his life he was very worried about right now. How could an organization as well respected as the Agricultural Corp not have one single person available to do whatever it was they needed to do before he could leave? He had already given the monthly report to a droid, who instructed him to stay and wait for a representative. The droid had given no indication of whether said representative would be another droid, human, or even sentient. Stars, around here it might even be some sort of brain-altered wamp. Weird things happened around here. (The last time he had come, he had been given his third tour of the experimental orchard, and had nearly been run down by two boys singing what had sounded like drinking songs as they pushed carts of porcin manure. Something about how they would rather eat the fertilizer than Mace's cooking. Putbil wondered who this Mace was, and pitied any who did have to sample his concoctions). Porcin manure was much more odiferous than that of kelps.

His impatience was making him itch and twitch, very unusual behavior for him. He was not a flincher. But he needed to do SOMETHING! ANYTHING! He spied a small pamphlet: "One Field At a Time: How the Agri-Cultural Corp is Working to Feed Your Family and the Galaxy." Grateful to just have something in his increasingly anxious hands, Putbil began to pour over the small data pad with his eyes, picking up highlighted words, but failing to link meanings between sentences. "Chaffa . . . dairy . . . kelp wool . . . insect resistance . . . crop blight . . . drought . . . environment domes . . . fertilizers . . . technology . . . Jedi . . . Force . . . ?" (Jedi? Force?) In confusion, Putbil stopped and actually tried to read the paragraph he had scrolled to, but before that could happen, a droid came up to him, handing him the report to take back to his village.

"I'm sorry sir," the large metallic trash receptacle wheezed. I'm afraid our representative is unable to give you a proper tour at this time. Dr. Gantos has a pressing matter to attend to in his lab. If you like, I can provide you with an earpiece for the audio tour." The droid whirred softly, waiting for him to respond. Putbil blinked at it. He hated talking to droids. Somehow, he always suspected they knew more than he did and would promptly break down if he touched them. Kind of like the bread toaster he had gotten Tebla for their anniversary.

"Uh, no. I've had the tour." The droid seemed a bit distressed, as if it weren't programmed for people who didn't want to tour the facilities.

"But, sir, don't you want to see the doctor's progress?" Putbil cut it off with a wave of his hand.

"Ield has a lot on his mind. He can tell me when he gets home." The droid sat quietly computing this as Putbil turned and headed for the exit and the parking lot.

"Kash!" The grilgehound leapt to her feet in the back of the groundcar, nearly knocking Putbil in the face with her large head. Finding her here, where she was supposed to be, had been the last thing he'd expected. (Something finally not going wrong?) Sudde

 

Alright I get to be the first one to respond to your newest post. Excellent job Alli-Wan.
Another great post. (As if there is any other kind)

The anticipation is building, the plot advancing and somewhere over the horizon a climax looms, but I hope it takes another 203 pages of text in your word file before we reach it. I truely do enjoy the time and quality that you lavish on developing the characters and the story which is why this fanfic still remains my favorite.

Please post again soon.

Igraine

 

1) When is a goot time to start thinking about submitting your film to TFN? Before shooting or after?

2) My father offered to buy me a Mini-DV camera for graduation. He is willing to spend between $500-$800 on it. What is the best for that price?

Jason

 

In that price range I would recommend a Digital8, You get more for your money, tapes are cheaper and you get all the benefits of MiniDV except size. I know is has been replaced but the Sony CCD-TRV103 was around $750. I sold video equipment for 10 years so if you have any questions you can email me at chrisedge@aol.com

 

Yeah! What Igraine said!

I love this story Alli-Wan and I look forward to many more posts! Hopefully some that will come soon.

 

I would think about submitting your film to TFN after you have completed your film. That way, you can look at the finished product, and say to yourself, "Do I want to share this with the world?" If yes, submit it. But if the film did not reach your expectations, don't.

MTFBWY

DM