Before - Legends Jedi Snapshots *New story 15/06/06* 'These Boots Were Made For Walking'

That was incredible Jem! What a fitting story for Qui-Gon!

I read that and started saying; "Wait! Wait! I know who that is!" Then got all giddy thinking about it.

 

I knew it! The whole thing with the evil demon possession suspicion made me think of a djinn and so I went "Whoa, that's gotta be Qui-Gon Jinn." Very powerful.

 

A Happy Ending?: "Like a happy ending, I do."

Me too.

Strange Bedfellows: "My father was my Master," she pressed on, as if verbalizing it would make the emotional wound heal, "and my mother was the Jedi sent to face him. He killed her, then tried to do the same to me, but I fought back and killed him."

*whistles* Wow, talk about a past.

New Beginnings: Having survived an eventful journey home the child formerly dubbed as 'Ugly Baby' gained a new name, and was dispatched in due course to the crèche to start his formative years of training in the ways of the Jedi. From then on two illustrious and respected Jedi would shape his life: the revered and esteemed Yoda, then latterly the astute Knight Dooku, both instilling within him their own brand of wisdom and cunning. More than sixty years would pass before the flames that had so nearly taken his life would eventually reclaim his body on the funeral pyre.

Wow, the story of Qui-Gon's life in a paragraph.

 

Yeah, I wrote the original story when I figured that every possible form of angst in a single scene was the highest art form known to teenagers.

 

Lol.

 

Ana was the first Jedi I dared to write and I was 17 and really bored with life.

 

A Much Wiser Man?
By Jemmiah

*******

"You look tense." Qui-Gon remarked to his padawan, observing the taut line of Obi-Wan's jaw and the trademark furrowing of the young man's brow. "Does the prospect of this test make you uneasy?"

The apprentice stared ahead towards the thick, densely lined forest and rapidly darkening skyline. It wasn't fear of the unknown that bothered him, nor the gnawing uncertainty at his own ability to successfully complete the task. What bothered Obi-Wan most was the idea of failure itself: of letting Qui-Gon down, and in the process himself.

"Kryztan Harkley failed this test." Obi-Wan sighed deeply; releasing some of the tension that had been building within him over the last few minutes. "And Tanni Welasa. If a Togorian with superior reflexes and sense of direction cannot succeed then it doesn't bode well for me."

"You are not Kryztan." Qui-Gon smiled, approving of his padawan's respect for his test. "Nor are you Tanni Welasa. You are Obi-Wan Kenobi; and right now that is all that is important. Forget all that you may have been told about this exercise. Clear your mind of other people's failures and focus on what you must do."

Obi-Wan nodded slowly, although his expression appeared even more troubled than before. "It is a bit difficult when you know what befell your fellow padawans. Zac didn't make it further than the 'swamp of doom'. Jodi got caught up in that giant web?and as for what happened to Jay!" Obi-Wan failed to repress a shudder. "I don't even want to think about it. They are supposed to be the most skilful padawans of their generation. Tanni is wise, Zac is brave, few are more skilled than Jodi?and Jay is possibly the best all round apprentice in terms of ability. And then there is me."

"And then there is you." Agreed Qui-Gon, still smiling.

"Tell me master," Obi-Wan gazed up at the Jedi's calm, reassuring face, "what special gift do I possess that will allow me to succeed where others greater than I have failed?"

"That," Qui-Gon placed his hands upon his padawan's shoulders, "is what you are about to find out." He turned to his right, sensing the approach of Master Windu who had been called to watch and observe how each of the padawans fared on this, one of the most difficult and awkward exercises imaginable. Difficult and varied terrain - downright treacherous in places - not to mention wild and dangerous forest dwelling creatures would have to be faced and conquered if an apprentice was to succeed. Of all the tests a padawan could be made to face this above all others was the one regarded with intense dislike?

"Are you ready, padawan Kenobi?" Master Windu asked.

Obi-Wan found his mouth suddenly very dry and merely signalled his readiness with a curt nod. The challenge filled him both with fear and excitement; two things that a Jedi was supposed to control, yet as he felt the blood surge through his veins Obi-Wan knew that his emotions had bettered him. The run to the forest seemed like an awfully long way, and he wondered if his courage or his legs would fail him first.

Concentrate! He rebuked himself roundly. There is no place for nerves here! You can do this. It's just a matter of belief.

"Very well." Mace glanced at his chrono, resetting the digits back to zero. "The distance between the start and the trees yonder is precisely one mile. The full distance of the course is measured at ten miles. You have three hours in which to run the full distance of the course. Is that understood?"

"Understood, master." Obi-Wan swallowed, his heart beating fit to burst against his ribs.

"Then may the force be with you, padawan. You may start when ready."

After a brief moment of hesitation Obi-Wan raced across the open ground towards the distant trees, sensing Qui-Gon willing him on, urging him to do his best. Aboraxia was a force-benighted planet, he thought bleakly as he kicked up his heels, feeling the muddy soil squelch beneath his booted soles. It never seemed to grow full light, as if pitched into eternal dusk

 

LOL, that's brilliant! Obi-Wan is so pragmatic!

 

"He's going to beat Yoda's time by hours." Qui-Gon said eventually. "Our revered master is going to tie himself up in knots trying to work out how he managed it."

I can just imagine the constant "Hmm..."ing.

For what seemed like one of the few occasions in his life, Mace allowed himself to smile. "I know." He stifled the urge to smirk uncontrollably. "That's why I'm not going to fail your padawan!"

That's the Mace I love!

 

Oh bravo, Jemmiah. That was absolutely brilliant.

 

Brilliant Jem!!

Although I would like to see what Yoda's reaction is.

 

Crossed Wires
By Jemmiah




On.

Off.

On.

Off.

Pause.

On.

Flicker?

Off.

On-off-on-off-


Obi-Wan looked up at the ceiling to where the lighting was pulsing and flashing with regular monotony. He was finding it particularly difficult to meditate as it was given that he was suffering from possibly the worst hangover he could remember in recent years (thanks to Jay, Simeon and a bottle of strong Alderaani black rum), and the accompanying itch that followed the allergic reaction to that particular beverage. Jemmiah had popped her head around the door to see how he was - or more specifically to tease him - and had then insisted on fussing over him like he was some kind of pathetic invalid incapable of finding the headache pills.

Which, come to think of it, he had been?

On.

Off.

On.

"What in the name of the force is going on?" Obi-Wan declared crossly, easing himself out of his meditation chair with one hand firmly affixed to his head for fear it might suddenly fall off his shoulders and roll across the floor in a drunken stupor.

Off.

On.

"Jemmiah, this isn't helping me!" The padawan shuffled forwards towards the living area. "A joke is a joke! I much preferred it when you wanted to mollycoddle me than torment my double vision!"

He walked a few paces through the opened door and stopped in amazement, wondering if perhaps he was seeing things as a result of his alcoholic excesses the night before. Jemmiah stood in the centre of the room, arms stretched wide apart as if in the middle of some strange and energetic dance. He tried to follow her gyrations with his eyes for a moment then finally gave it up as a lost cause: it was simply too early in the morning for that kind of thing.

"What do you think you are doing?" He asked, shielding his eyes from the flickering lighting above.

Jemmy spun around. "Dancing." She grinned.

"Well kindly stop! My head feels as if there's a Wookiee living in it." Obi-Wan rubbed wearily at his pasty looking face. Jemmiah didn't take much notice of what he was saying, content to twist and jiggle about with typical Corellian enthusiasm.

"Isn't it great, Ben?" She grinned, wondering if she should attempt a split-leap before deciding that her skirt was far too short to make it look half-way decent. "The temple's having a party!"

On.

Off.

On.

Off.

Obi-Wan stared at her as if she were teetering on the edge of insanity.

"What do you mean, the temple's having a party?" He frowned incredulously at her. "Are you saying that this lighting nonsense is nothing to do with you?"

Jemmy placed her hands on her hips.

"No! It's not me. The whole temple's been affected. Something seems to have gone haywire in the energy conduits. I saw one poor boy that'd been to have his first padawan cut. Half of it's shaved and the other looks like a Bantha!" The Corellian applauded wickedly, clearly relishing the memory. "I think it's great that the council have decided to hold a disco. All we need now is a bar and a gambling arcade in the library and we'll all be set for a celebration!"

On.

Off.

Much to Jemmiah's disappointment the lighting seemed to take that as its cue to rectify itself. Her arms slumped dejectedly by her side, although Obi-Wan couldn't help but feel relief.

"Thank the force." He grumbled, as Jemmy snuck her tongue out at him. "It was beginning to get on my nerves! A party, indeed!"

"Yes." Nodded Jemmy. "I like to think so. Maybe the council has realised that

 

On-off-on-off- Ooooh, the light problem very effectively gets to the heart of Obi-Wan's headache. Nicely done! And the droid...nothing's going right in the Temple that day.

 

I love the fact that Jemmy was dancing in the middle of the room like she was at a club while the lights were flickering. Of course she was the first person Obi would blame too.

Of all people to find Mace with his droid admirer, it had to be Dexy! Alas poor Eric we hardly knew ye. Judging by the third droid's actions you were a special bunch of circuits.

 

This is the story that fits in before the last one, which explains why Obi-Wan was in such a sorry state!

Good Impressions
By Jemmiah



No money for an air cab. Too unsteady to walk.

Engage brain cells, Obi-Wan thought furiously. Come on! Where was the force when he needed it most?

It was the precursor to the hangover from hell itself. It was all his own fault, and come the morning he was going to die. Especially if Qui-Gon arrived back at the temple before he had a chance to sober up.

Even if Qui-Gon couldn't detect the outward signs of carefree celebration by the alcohol on his breath or the stale smell of tabac on his clothing, surely the puffiness of his eyes would give the game away. Qui-Gon was not stupid: he was one of the least stupid, most instinctive people that Obi-Wan had ever known. It had to be said that he'd attended the cantina quite willingly and of his own volition, although he had not intended on getting to the stage where he couldn't comfortably put one foot in front of the other?

It was Jay's fault, he grimaced. He knew what Alderaani black rum did to him. Trying to pass it off as Jawa juice?

Then again if he'd been sober enough to start with he should have been able to spot the difference.

Still, he wasn't the worst off. Simeon had spent the last two hours hiccuping. When he wasn't singing, that was. As for Jay, it hadn't seemed to affect him at all except that he had become even more boisterous and smug than ever before.

If it was possible.

"We need to get back home." Was Jay's useful contribution to proceedings.

Obi-Wan turned and stared at him. "Yes, I think we'd worked that one out for ourselves, Jay. But we don't have any credits for an aircab if you care to remember. Mostly due to the fact that you spent the last of it on that bottle of rum." The padawan stopped to scratch himself around his neck and shoulders. "You know I'm allergic to that stuff! I'm going to be a giant walking hive tomorrow!"

"You didn't seem that unhappy when you were drinking it." Abran pointed out, scanning the skyline for some inspiration. "Didn't let poor Simeon have a glass! Hogged it all for yourself, as I recall."

Obi-Wan narrowed his lips in annoyance but refrained from saying anything further. He couldn't very well argue against what Jay had said because it was little short of the truth. Why was it that the nicest things in life were invariably the worst for you? As a Jedi he should have learned that moderation and discipline were the way to go. Alas, both had a tendency to fly out the window whenever Jay was around.

"I want my bed." Simeon sighed. "I'm going to have an early start cleaning those freshers that An-Paj will assign to me."

"Bed is an awful long way off." Obi-Wan grumbled, transferring his attentions to his itchy armpits. "I'm afraid we are going to have to just walk home. Although my legs already feel as if they've been worn away to stumps."

"You can still feel your legs?" Simeon asked, surprised. "I lost all sensation there a few hours back."

Abran, his devious mind working overtime, slouched against the tall and decorative illumni-post that stood in the square not far from the Hell's Chance Cantina. He kicked his foot against one of the stone steps, trying to dredge one final idea from the recesses of his drink addled brain. Time, he reflected, to take stock of the situation.

"Okay. This is how I see things." Jay twirled the end of his bronze coloured padawan braid between his fingers. "We've got no money. It's cold; we all want to go home. That's the negatives. So, what advantages do we have?"

Simeon tried to mull it over for a moment but obviously found the strain too difficult, giving it up as a lost cause.

"What skills do you have that can help us?" Jay prompted. "What can you do?"

Cates shuffled awkwardly from one leg to the other.

"Er?pass?" He said eventually.

"If you'd said pass-out you would have been more accurate." Obi-Wan remarked dryly. "I don't really know what this is g

 

I have a suspicious feeling that whenever Jay is involved the Force is completely against Obi-Wan.

"Send a transport, I will." Yoda replied after an awkward silence. "Be out late at this time I do not wish to be. Old, I am! Make it home on foot I might not." Tee-Hee! Only Yoda could come back with an answer like that! (Mace has no sense of humor, Qui-Gon would make them walk, and Dex would pout that they didn't invite him along. )

Personally I thought if they made Simmy do his toe trick while burping all several thousand verses of the Corellian national anthem would probably get quite a few credits tossed they're way! It's amazing how generous some people can be when they've had a few too many. Especially if they want you to stop!

 

OH...

Dear...

Force...

HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Okay, Yoda snapshots always get me excited, but this had me giggling inappropriately while trying to get work done!

 

"Eric!" It cried, it's lamentations pitiful to hear. "They've killed Eric!"



"One more thing, Padawan Kenobi." Yoda's voice dropped to almost menacing levels. "Report to me first thing in the morning you will."

Oh no... Heh-heh, Obi-Wan is indeed up to his neck in poodoo.

 

The last three stories have had me cracking up for the last five minuts!! Excellent work!
I especially love Obi's genius in A Much Wiser Man... and Yoda in First Impressions.

~Rhi

 

Empty Vessels
By Jemmiah



"They say empty vessels make the most sound." Dex squinted at the prone figure of Mace Windu, pointing a finger at the padawan's stomach. "Your belly must be very empty indeed."

It was fast approaching midnight on Tildas, a time when all good Jedi Knights and padawans should have been in bed, fast asleep and dreaming the dreams of the righteous. The balmy, warm night air filtered into the cosy log cabins of the mountain retreat, lulling the restless and soothing the weary inside a protective force blanket. Row upon row of contented apprentices lay upon their bunks, their eyes closed, having partaken of a basic but hearty supper. Tiny snores punctuated what was otherwise a peaceful, almost tranquil atmosphere.

That and the rumbling from Mace's intestinal tract.

Qui-Gon turned over onto his side and slowly - against his better judgement - opened one reluctant eyelid.

"What do you think you are doing?" He whispered across at Dex.

Berlingside whipped round, surprised. "Thought you were asleep."

"Which is precisely what you should be doing." Counselled Qui-Gon, his brows furrowing into deep caverns of concern. "Why are you crouched down besides Mace?"

The Corellian gave a tight little shrug of his shoulders. "Have you heard the noises that are coming from him? The grumbling and the growling? The gurgling and the glug-glugging? Utterly fascinating!" Dex grinned, his smile radiantly lighting up the darkness. "Never heard the like of it before. Sounds like a herniated Bantha trying to pass a hot air balloon?"

Qui-Gon couldn't help but smirk at that one. He knew that Mace was extremely sensitive about remarks aimed at his 'delicate digestion' and could appreciate how terrible it would be to live with a constantly rumbling belly. But, oh - how much worse for his friends to suffer it as well!

"That still doesn't explain what you are doing over there." Qui-Gon levered himself up, resting his head on the palm of his hand. "Windu won't thank you for it, whatever it is. I suggest you head back to your bunk before he wakes up and shakes you until your eyes drop out and roll across the floor."

Dex waved the advice off with a friendly shake of his hand and if anything crept closer still to the slumbering form of Mace Windu. How peaceful the padawan looked, he thought, as he inched closer to his bunk. He seemed content with his lot, evidently untroubled by either a guilty conscience or the weird and wonderful array of noises transmitted by his gut. Reaching into his pocket Dex brought out a tiny little object that to Qui-Gon's eyes looked rather like a com-link, only fractionally larger, and held it against Mace's stomach.

Gro-rrrr-owwww-llllll?.rrrr-awwwwrrrllll?.growwwllll?.

With his free hand he treated Qui-Gon to a thumbs-up sign. This was absolute music to Dex's ears! Such rumblings and whining like a cacophony of vervoid howlers in a zoo screeching to be fed! Such burbling and squealing!

"You're recording Mace's stomach?" Qui-Gon sighed, flopping once more onto his back. "May I ask why?"

"Dunno." Dex beamed. "Something told me it might come in useful. Besides which at the very least it'll be fun!"

"You have a strange idea of fun." Qui-Gon felt obliged to point out. "Now for the love of the force, get back to bed before Mace wakes up? Something tells me he's not going to be terribly thrilled with the notion of you sitting up all night trying to record his natural gases fighting their way through his body?"

RRRROOWWWWWWLLLLLLLLLLL!

"That was a good one!" Dex clicked the recording device off. "Did you hear it?"

"It would be difficult not to. And you as well." Qui-Gon responded by putting his pillow over his head. Clearly Dex was in one of his excitable moods and was not in a hurry to retreat to his bunk. "I wash my hands of the whole affair. I'm not awake, I never heard you and I have no idea what you are doing. I deny everything."

"Good." Nodded Berlingside agreeably. "Then you won't see me doing this!"

Despi

 

*giggle* I feel sorry for just about everyone except for Qui-Gon!