Before Official Summer Challenge - Before the Saga Entries

The Official Summer Challenge is here! We've decided to start celebrating the start of Summer (or Winter in some countries ) early, and so we have decided to present to you this official challenge.

Topic: "Building Bridges" (we are aware that this topic of open to interpretation - that's the point ) However, you must include the following list of words-

Bantha

Red

Bite

Bowl

Speeder

Length: 2000 words tops.

Post all challenge entries that take place Before the Saga here.

The challenge thread with more details is here.

Title: Karma and Dug -- A Drabble
Timeline: pre-TPM
Focus: Sebulba
Note: This is my 200th drabble not to have any Doctor Who content.


"I agree he has the heart of a Bantha," Sebulba shouted into his portacomm. "He has the brains and looks of one, too!" He laughed hard, spraying three other tables with bits of chewed meat. He scraped out one last bite, then tossed the bowl behind him, splattering more diners.

"Excuse me, sir," an embarrassed human waiter said.

Sebulba glared up at him. "What?"

"Was that your speeder out front?"

"What do you mean 'was'?" Sebulba demanded.

The waiter's face turned a deeper red. "Well, umm..."

Sebulba shoved him aside and raced from the restaurant. "Pooooooodoooooooooooooo!"

The other diners cheered.

Title: Training Day
Summary: Obi-Wan was asked by a suprising Jedi Knight before Qui-Gon found him to be his apprentice.
Category: Before the Saga. 17 years before TPM.


***



The Jedi Temple was warm in the summer months on Coruscant. It left one with an almost thrilling feeling when your training was done for the day and praise from one's master was due.



Obi-Wan Kenobi knew this because every day a new youngling was taken by a Jedi Knight or Master as their apprentice at the end of this training session, and Obi-Wan would watch yet another of his classmates leave the youngling class forever.


Obi-Wan would always hear a gentle 'You're much too young, yet. You'll have your own master, soon enough.' The words no longer gave any comfort to Obi-Wan as he believed firmly that he was unwanted and this made him feel so lost. It was like taking a bite of sour grapes.


But one day, Obi-Wan noticed a Jedi Master watching him spar with a great focus as a Bantha has. It left him feeling so deeply proud that he was finally noticed. He'd worked so very hard for this chance.

The Jedi was dressed in fine brown robes and carried his light saber at his waist. He had warm brown eyes and watched Obi-Wan with keen interest, as he took class after class with the other younglings.

One day the Jedi finally approached Obi-Wan. The young boy shut down his weapon and went off to the side of the room with the Jedi Knight away from his classmates.

"I've been studying you, Obi-Wan Kenobi, for some time," Jedi Master Dooku told the boy with a smile to his pleasant looking face. "I was wondering if you would consider becoming my new apprentice?"

Obi-Wan smiled happily at the idea and Dooku offered him his hand. Obi-Wan was about to accept it when a strong wave of cold air abruptly shot up his back leaving the boy feeling sick inside.

Something was telling young Obi-Wan to say no and that he'd best follow that warning before it was too late.

The three year old hung his head and looked to the red colored dots on the floor at his feet.

"I'm sorry, Master Dooku," Obi-Wan stated honestly. "I don't think that I'm ready to go with you."

"Very well, boy," smiled the Jedi Master. "Another time, then."

The Jedi then abruptly left the Chamber leaving Jedi Master Yoda staring after him, warily so.

"Come now, Obi-Wan," Yoda said kindly to him. "Class is not over yet."

"Yes, master." Obi-Wan said.

Obi-Wan quickly ran to the corner table by the windows where a bowl of grapes was sitting. He took a few gladly in his hands, as a Speeder went buzzing past the glass outside.

Here's my humble offering...


Apprentices

Rosen leaped off the rusted speeder, his long grey cloak swirling around him as he did so. Above him the twin suns of Tatooine shone in the morning sky, though he had gotten used to the heat now. Striding across the sands to the small hut nearby, Rosen felt himself growing more and more confident in his plans. Perhaps he felt that way because Master Kravak was so far away, and the hut was so isolated in the vast desert, with little to disturb them. There was no one to spring any unwelcome surprises.

Entering the hut, Rosen found Ashan waiting inside, as he had expected. The Dark Jedi was garbed in black robes that sharply contrasted with his flame red hair, and was busy eating something from a small bowl on the table. It looked like Bantha meat, and Rosen wondered if Ashan had actually taken the risk of killing one for food- to do that would have attracted the dangerous attentions of the Tusken Raiders, who thought of the creatures as sacred. On the other hand, Ashan was more than capable of handling a few Tuskens.

?What do you want?? hissed Ashan, taking a bite of his Bantha meat. Rosen merely smiled in response. The pair were the fiercest of rivals, as was often the way with those who follow the dark path. What made their hatred of each other worse was the way Master Kravak played them off against each other, and in fact the Twi?lek Master seemed to take a nasty pleasure out of watching the two apprentices compete for his praise.

Rosen knew that such competition was beneath him, but he had played along for a while, if only because he felt Kravak had so much to teach him- rumours told him that the Twi?lek served under Exar Kun himself during the Sith War. Surely someone like that must have some Darkside secrets worth learning.

However, Rosen knew that the game would one day have to take an ultimate turn, and that Kravak would eventually pit both apprentices against each other in a duel to the death. For a while, Rosen had accepted this, and had tried to work out how best to defeat Ashan in combat, but soon other, better plans began forming in his mind. And now, on Tatooine, perhaps those plans could be realised.

?I have an offer to make to you,? replied Rosen at last. Ashan scowled, put down his meat, and stood up. Already the young man?s hand was falling to the lightsaber at his belt.

?There is no need for that, I assure you,? said Rosen as calmly as he could. ?This is not a trick. You see, I think we can help each other.?

?I don?t need anything from you,? spat Ashan.

?Maybe not. In fact, you?re probably going to take me by surprise and kill me right now. Murder me here, and take your place at Kravak?s side.?

?That?s Master Kravak. And I am not so cowardly as to kill without proper warning,? snarled Ashan. ?That?s the kind of thing a spineless worm like you would do.?

?If we are going to duel, let?s just do it now,? said Rosen, taking his own lightsaber into his hand, though not igniting it. ?Or perhaps you would care to throw a few more meaningless taunts my way??

?We?ll see if how meaningless this is when I?ve made you a corpse in the sand.?

?Oh, be quiet. I did not come here for this.?

Ashan merely laughed in response, running a hand through his fiery red hair.

?You have lost your fury, Rosen. What?s happened? Have you realised you cannot defeat me? Is this some sort of plea for mercy??

?I grow tired of these games,? snapped Rosen suddenly, and his voice carried a new, menacing edge to it. ?You can play along to Kravak?s tune if you like, but I am fed up of serving and waiting and obeying.?

?What are you talking about, weakling? I just can?t believe I ever considered you my equal.?

Rosen?s eyes flared, and he felt like striking out, but he made himself force down the rising tide of anger. For now.

?As ever, your arrogance blinds you to the truth here. Perhaps I should just kill you now. It might save me some time.?

?Why don?t you try? I?m eager for blood.?

??I?because?because I need you to h

Title: To Build A Bridge
Time: Pre-TPM, Obi-Wan is 20

*****

?Master, what is this lesson again??

Obi-Wan Kenobi leaned wearily against a tree, savoring what little shade it offered. To say it was hot out was an understatement. The Padawan could think of many ways he?d rather spend such a day. Eating a bowl full of Yoda?s gruel, then sparring against said master came to mind. Or maybe being trampled by a bantha herd. Yes, that sounded downright pleasant compared to his master?s latest project.

?To tell you would defeat the purpose, Padawan.? Qui-Gon Jinn replied, bending down to pick up yet another wood beam. Obi-Wan suspected it was also a discreet way to hide his smile. When the master stood up, he was once again composed. He took a few steps, then turned to face his Padawan. ?This bridge will not build itself, Obi-Wan.?

?Yes, Master.? With a sigh, Obi-Wan dutifully obeyed and swung a beam of wood onto his shoulder, before joining his master. ?You are enjoying this.?

?Of course, Obi-Wan.? Qui-Gon glanced down at the younger man. ?We are outside, surrounded by nature, creating something with our own hands, and helping those in need by doing so. Why wouldn?t I enjoy it??

?The Council will not approve of this?detour.?

The two Jedi stepped to the side of the road as a speeder approached from behind.

?The treaty negotiations are at a recess. I would not consider this a detour from the mission. Is there a reason we should stay in our quarters instead of helping where we can??

The speeder sped by, carrying a load of wood to the workers down the road. Whatever the driver yelled at them was lost in the wind created by the speeder, but the sign he made with his free hand could not be misinterpreted.

?I don?t believe they want our help, Master.? Obi-Wan commented dryly as they continued on.

?And yet they have accepted it. To want and to need are two very different things, Padawan.?

?Yes Master.? A moment later, he let himself focus on the next day when the negotiations would continue. At least he could take this time to once again go over the material he had memorized days earlier.

?Something?s happened.? Qui-Gon?s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. A moment later, he too felt the disturbance in the Force. The Jedi threw the wood to the ground and raced towards the work site. Obi-Wan berated himself the entire way for his lack of focus.

The shouts that greeted them as they approached were not the familiar insults. Qui-Gon did not pause has he disappeared into the foray, soon followed by his apprentice. Frantic workers dug through the rubble, looking for buried friends. Obi-Wan slid into a gap between two workers, bending down to dig. The worker at his right instantly jabbed the Padawan with his elbow. Obi-Wan winced as it connected with his ribs.

?Go away, Jedi ! You?re in the way. Like always.?

Ignoring the taunts, he continued to move rubble. The workers bent down to help a moment later. The seriousness of this task outweighed their dislike. However, they did not miss any chance to shoot hateful looks his way. The looks were similar to the ones a large creature, just one of his master?s previous projects, had given him. Obi-Wan had been sure it wanted to bite his head off.

Soon, the red of a worker?s jumpsuit came into view.

?Tam!?

Obi-Wan suddenly found himself on the ground, having been shoved away by a large, burly worker. He began to push himself up, but got kicked in the ribs instead. Whether it was an accident or on purpose he couldn?t tell. He was definitely going to have a bruise in the morning. Looking around cautiously, he climbed to his feet and moved back towards Tam. He found the three workers trying to move one of the bridge?s support beams off their comrade?s chest. From the labored breathing it was clear he would not survive long.

?Move!? Obi-Wan ordered, shoving the workers away.

?Hey! Just who do you think you are?!? He ignored the protests as he focused on the Force. Slowly, the beam was lifted off the injured man. The workers were

BRIDGE OVER TROUBLED WATER
By Darth Ishtar
Summary: A new Master and Padawan relationship is forced to brave the first failings and findings.
Characters: Liara Khe and Maer Saadil, both OCs.
Timeline: 4 years pre-TPM

"I'd say you're sweating like a bantha, but you don't have enough hair to qualify for the species."

Master Maer Saadil, or "Masochistic Maer" as her new Padawan was fond of disrespectully calling her, blew a limp strand of hair from her grime-streaked countenance, but didn't look up from the task at hand.

"As I've reminded you four times today, my very young apprentice," she said with dignified, entirely feigned patience, "young ladies of the Order do not sweat, they perspire. And if you are a good Padawan as I was, you do not perspire, you..."

"Glow," Liara Khe finished the familiar aphorism.

Maer risked a stern glance at the impetuous child of twenty. "Exactly," she stated.

She ducked her head out of sight, a grin blossoming in full view of the river creatures that were being disgruntledly displaced by their activity. When she straightened, the grin was gone, replaced by bemused resignation.

"And I am glowing like a bantha."

"I thought as much," Li sighed, clearly fighting a grin of her own. "Then, I'll have to bathe the bantha."

With an agility surprising for a glorified shelver, Li leapt forward, propelling her onto her back beneath the water.
****
Sith, she's only thirty and she's only been my Master five days. It usually takes me seven more years to kill a Master.

Li hadn't meant to take the joke this far, had enjoyed her Master's squirming attempts to resurface, but she had gone still far too quickly, eyes rolled into the recesses of her sockets, limbs limp and unresponsive.

Li had given herself a concussion and a nasty sviki-fish sting in the right leg before she managed to haul her Master to shore, every midichlorian straining to find something to latch on to.

But her new Master's sense was as slippery as the shores of the river.

Blast and bakima it, she cursed. They should never put a bond this tenuous to the test.

Tilting her Master's head back, she used her finger to sweep the throat for any obstructions, then checked for the breath that refused to warm her cheek. Finally, her cheek pressed to a faint, but blessedly present heartbeat.

Never noticing that the arms were no longer limp.

She had just gotten into position for CPR when her own airway was blocked by something far more sinister than water.

A live chaufish.

She inhaled quickly in agonized surprise, the sudden intake of air taking the chaufish towards the back of her throat. By reflex alone, she swallowed, then slumped to the side, flopping onto her back.

"Padawan, Padawan, Padawan," Maer chided hoarsely. "Just because we were deprived seven years of making each other miserably amused, you don't have to make up for it in the first week."

"Point," Li gasped, fighting down every gag reflex she never knew she had.

The last person to make me miserably amused just ended up making me miserable. I'm not sure you can even begin to understand the how-to of all of it.

Hopefully, you'll find out before I lose this braid of mine.

The braid had been in place so long that she rarely thought of it, but it had been rewoven in days too recent for her tastes.

"We are going on a sort of vacation," Maer had declared. "There is supposed to be a bond, a bridge built between the adjoining minds of Master and Padawan and it is a bridge we cannot build here."

Her hands were wound gently among the several strands that formed the braid of the late Master Fione's Padawan, tucking the threads of light red from her own head into the meld of golden and copper. It was tradition for there to be two strands of the Padawan's hair, but the core was that of the Master's touch, a small, but strengthening support for the entire symbol of learning.

Now, there would be the trace of another staunch supporter for as long as it took.

Her hand came

Title: Building Bridges (aka. This Bit Goes Here, That Bit goes there?)

By Jemmiah

******

Bricks.

Big, red, plasti-form bricks. Lots of them.

Mace Windu sat amongst the brightly coloured blocks that lay scattered all around him, picking up one of the palm-sized cubes in his hand and regarding it thoughtfully. Those that were not strewn about his feet had been stacked neatly in the classical interlocking position so that they formed a sturdy and secure foundation on which to continue building. Of course he could pretty easily whip all the bricks into order by using the force, but where was the fun in that? The appeal lay in being able to sit and patiently work things out, using his own manual dexterity and his much-vaunted ability to solve problems.

He was king of the Jedi temple crèche: unmatched and unrivalled by any other in the room with him.

Along with all the bricks there lay numerous discarded toys: a mock-up speeder made out of two old chairs, art equipment including dried up brushes and paint encrusted palates, plus a rather forlorn and miserable looking Bantha who stared across at Mace as if pronouncing judgement on his endeavours. The Bantha had clearly seen better days.

Just like some of the crèche masters.

Being a carer couldn't be easy; Mace realised as he brought the next brick down on top of the other, snapping it into place. He fought the urge to bite his lip, focusing on the task in hand. This bridge of his would be the best scale model ever! Master Yoda was forever telling him that if a job was worth doing then it was worth doing well. Here was the very proof! There had never been and most certainly never would be another model so well constructed?why, in years to come they would most likely exhibit it as an example of his cleverness! And it was all his own work. Could Qui-Gon have created such a piece of art? Would the likes of Dex Berlingside even have the inclination or the attention span for such an undertaking? Mace smiled, his heart filling with genuine pride at his achievements.

They said he was competative and serious, more so than the average for his years, but Mace didn't see what was wrong with that. He had a naturally taciturn nature: not disagreeable by any stretch of the imagination but given to solitary thoughts and an appreciation of his own company. Well, did it really matter if that was so? He was like one of the bricks; he realised, chewing idly at one of them as he pondered the next part of his bridge. Each brick worked well on its own but when placed beside another formed an efficient and formidable team. Maybe he didn't have Berlingside's sunny nature that made him an immediate hit with Masters and Initiates alike, but he was certain deep within his heart that there was no individual in the temple so dedicated...so devoted to the ways of the force.

Aware that he had an audience, Mace looked up to see a pair of bright little eyes regarding him with much interest. It was HER again?the one that kept pestering him! The one with the shimmering gold skin that turned purple like an angry squid whenever she got mad! Every time he so much as grabbed another brick she would trot over to him on her stubby little legs. He really hoped she didn't have a crush on him! This time there was something slightly different about her appearance: for some reason best known to herself the girl had a large pudding bowl on top of her head with the pureed contents slowly but surely dribbling down the side of her cheek and onto her thin shoulders. It made her look as if she had some kind of fungus growing out of her ear?

"We're all eating." She said after a slight pause. "Don't you want to eat?"

Mace grunted in reply, his hand poised over his construction in readiness to snap the next brick into place. He was at a critical stage in the construction and couldn't afford to have his concentration spoiled by such trivialities as eating!

"Aren't you hungry?" She asked, pouting as Mace ignored her.

"No." Came back the reply.

"Won't you play with us?"

"I'm building

Title: A Mission, a Bridge, and a Little Slice of Life (big title, short story )
Summary: Not much before TPM. Owen and Beru meet for the first time.

~~~

The silhouettes of daily life on Tatooine ? a bantha, a speeder ? each took a bite out of the bowl of sky, illuminated a fierce red by the binary sunset. A young girl, perhaps seven seasons old, scampered across this horizon, chasing after the flimsiplast document her father had sent her with. She didn?t really know what it was for, though she had overheard her father mention something about a dust storm. She had been instructed to take it to Master Lars, who lived on the moisture farm nearest to them. She had never actually visited, but she had waited in the speeder while her father had brought something up to the door. This marked the first time she had ever gone out on her own, and had accepted the job in order to prove to her father she could (no, it wasn?t solely for the promised cookies, though that was an important factor).

She hummed an aimless little tune of triumph as she caught the rebellious sheet. The skirt of her new jumper twirled playfully about her feet, and the beads embroidered into the hem glistened an eerie crimson in the fading light. She had promised her father she would return before both suns had set. Already the lower of the two suns was disappearing below the sandy infinity of the horizon, so she ran the remaining distance, clutching the flimsiplast sheet close to her chest.

She stopped on the beaten sand in front of the house. It was slightly bigger than her respectable home, and her father had told her that they had four more vaporators than they did. This alone put her in awe of the family that she otherwise knew next to nothing about, and the marvelous structure she beheld merely amplified her respect.

It wasn?t very large, maybe coming up to the hem of her jumper. Its ragtag composition enthralled her ? pieces of archaic droids, scraps of rusted metal, and kids? plastic blocks, held together with a motley assortment of strings, magnets, nails, and glues. There was neither rhyme nor reason to the phenomenon, though it vaguely resembled a flat-topped arch. So enraptured by the small contraption, she didn?t notice the boy until he pulled on her sleeve.

?You?re standing on my glue.?

She shrugged sheepishly and bounced off of what she had unintentionally stood on ? a cheap plate with a thick glue poured on it. The boy had some of the same glue smeared on his tunic and hands.

?What is it?? she asked, nodding towards the structure.

?It?s my bridge. I?ve been working on it for a long time. I think it?s already been two months,? the boy explained, beaming.

?If it?s a bridge, then where?s the water?? the girl asked matter-of-factly. She shook her head. Boys.

?Right there.? He pointed underneath the magnificent creation at several scraps of fabric that had probably once been blue.

?That?s your water??

The boy was indignant. ?Blue?s not the easiest color to find, you know!?

The girl rolled her eyes inwardly. ?I know that. But it is a nice bridge. Are you going to finish it??

?Of course, bantha brains. No, I was going to let it sit there until some Sand People decide to destroy it.?

?Who?? She raised her eyebrows.

?You.?

?Well, you?re a nerf herder.? She struck her tongue out with finality. The boy muttered something under his breath about dumb girls, but he was silenced by a glare of female origins. A wary silence filled the patch of desert.

?What?s your name??

?Huh?? The girl broke off her glare.

?I said, what?s your name??

?Beru Whitesun.?

?I?m Owen.?

They contemplated their respective revelations for a moment. Beru was the first to speak.

?I?m supposed to give this to your dad.?

Owen shook his head. ?I?ll take it, don?t worry.?

She handed over the flimsiplast sheet. ?Thanks.? A pause. ?Well, bye then.?

?You know, you can always come back here, and, well, look at the bridge or something.?

?Of course I will! I have to bring yo

That WAS innovative to use all challenge words in the first sentence and I loved the interchange. The dialogue seemed so owen and beru from ANH. Well done.

Title: On a Mission
Timeframe: 3 days prior to TPM
Note: My first time writing a Fan-Fic

-------------------------------------------------------

Day had just turned into night on Byss where a mysterious warrior had just taken out several battle droids of various types with a red lightsaber.He turns around and is revealed to be Darth Maul.Out in the distance, a robed figure comes into view and congratulates the warrior with a pat on the back and a sinister smile and says ?Very good my young apprentice, I feel the hatred for the Jedi swelling within you.?Darth Maul askes his master ?Is it time to reveal ourselves yet?? Sidious replied ?No not yet, there lies one more task in which I need you to accomplish. I need you to travel to Korriban and search for a weapon in which the galaxy has never seen before.? Maul replied ?I am yours to command Lord Sidious.?

Darth Maul enters his Sith Infiltrator, heads for the cockpit and rockets off into outer space. Once in space he enters the coordinates for Korriban and with a blink of an eye, the stars streak past him as he enters hyperspace. A few minutes pass and he enters the atmosphere of Korriban. He locates a safe spot to land and touches down, he immediately contacts Lord Sidious. ?I have landed safely on Korriban master and I will report back to you once I obtain this weapon you wish for me to seek.? Sidious replies ?Excellent Lord Maul. Just a reminder that I DO NOT tolerate failure.?
?Of course not master, We are sith.? and with a flick of a button the hologram of Sidious disappears. He exits the ship and hops aboard a speeder and jets off towards the horizon.

Out in the distance he notices an ancient building and he senses something familiar about it. He speeds towards the building and out of nowhere, a small one-manned spacecraft hovers above him and he starts to shoot at him without any warning. Immediately he stops the speeder, ignites his lightsaber and starts to block laserbolts. He is dodging laserbolts left and right and the pilot is amazed. He reports to his leader ?Bantha leader this is bantha five come in bantha leader.? Bantha leader chimes in ?Did you kill this mysterious person yet??
?Negative bantha leader, this warrior is blocking each and every shot I give him. I am unsure....? Darth Maul reflects a laser bolt and goes right back to the ship. Darth Maul says to himself ?Poor fellow had no chance against me even with a spacecraft as his weapon.?

He then realizes he is roughly 50 meters from this building and starts to walk towards it. He notices a large shaak and it attacks Maul by trying to take a bite out of his leg. Before Maul could get to his lightsaber, he force pushes the creature away and it runs off. Right next to Maul there is a small opening and tries to crawl in it and succeeds. Inside this building, it is very dark and to see his way he ignites his lightsaber and in doing so he notices a wall with symbols on it and tries to decipher it. The wall reads:
?Peace is a lie. There is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory my chains are broken.? Maul replies ?The Sith code! I must be in the old Sith academy. I knew I sensed something familiar about this building?. He turns around and starts to explore the academy and notices a flight of stairs which go down. He goes down the stairs and is suddenly in a large rotunda. ?This must be where the Sith practiced their studies.? Suddenly he sees a old room to the left and starts to explore it. As soon as he enters the room he is greeted by the spirit of Darth Bane.

Darth Maul quickly goes down to his knees out of respect for the founding father of the Sith. Darth Bane in a powerful booming voice says ?Who are you and what business do you have here?? Maul replies ?I am on a mission given to me by my master Darth Sidious. I am looking for a weapon in which he describes the galaxy has never seen.? Bane says ?Ah yes, I know of the weapon in which Lord Sidious menti

Well, I thought I would give this a shot. Hope it is a good read!

Somewhere beyond the (Dune)Sea


Dusty grit blew into his face, somehow the man just grinned. He looked at the bustling city around him, buildings of wind and sand worn plaster. Mos Eisley, you?ll never find a more welcoming home of sun and history. This is where it had all started, and had he not been so strong willed as a child he never would have left.

The man hefted his few bags onto a rented speeder and looked behind him to his son, the boy had never forgiven him after the death of his mother. The man thought maybe he never would, but this was a place to start over, a place the two of them might make a new life. ?This is where I grew up,? The man laughed with sepia toned memories. ?The only thing is sometimes the sand finds it?s way into places you may not like.? He clapped his son on the back and hoisted the boy onto the speeder.

The boy dubiously eyes the bleak terrain, wondering just why his father had dragged him to this gods forsaken dustbowl. The whole place was like one big tan haze, few colors stood out against the backdrop of sand and heat mirages. The boy grumbled and settled back for the trip.

It took over an hour cruising over the sandy landscape, the view only broken occasionally by shrubs or the wildlife that could brave the desert conditions. Finally a small depression came into view and the man angled for it. The speeder came to rest beside a modest dome house built into eh side of the dune wall. The man helped the boy with a pat to his shoulder. ?I know, it doesn?t look like much now, but give it time.?

Again the boy grumbled and trudged into the house with his bags. He sought out a room furthest from that of his father and slowly dragged out his possessions. Miraculously the dust had not made it this far into the hovel, so the precious few square meters of space he had were clean. The young boy pulled out assorted clothing and a few toys and set about claiming this room as his territory. The last item from the bag was stared at for a long time before being slid safely under his pillow.

The first six months were hard for the two men, father and son worked hard to set up the machines that would harvest the scarce water resources of the dry planet. Often long days would lead to wordless nights as the two shared meals in silence. They both knew the absence of wife and mother was like a ghost living with them.

It took time, but slowly the boy opened up, taking to the arid sand as if born to it, and maybe he was, from his fathers side anyway. After the first year the dinners were far more social even ending in the two swapping jokes or stories before falling silent. After two years the boy called his father to his room, a place the father had silently been banned from since the day they moved in.

The boy, with large soft eyes, pulled something from under his pillow. He held it tightly and starred at it for a few moments before handing it over to his father. The man took the worn and creased sheet. It was an old type of portrait, the kind that people have done to look antique. Not the detail of a holo, but more charm and nostalgia. This one showed the family, father, mother and child all smiling brightly. His eyes misted looking at the picture and his fingers traced the lush wisps of red hair that fell about her shoulders.

?I thought we could put it up, for a while.? The boy looked hopefully at his father, finally letting go of the last remnant of anger and now sharing the last treasure he still clung to. The man nodded and put an arm around his boy, he walked them to the main room and set the picture on a shelf where they would both be able to see it as they ate.

Things were even better the year after, they had been fortunate to not be besieged by the barbarian Tuskans, but every so often an untamed bantha would wander into the property. That day one did, the boy was hard at work and did not notice the mammoth animal until it was right behind him, by that time he could not have run away as for their size th

Lot of competition here. Here's an entry I just threw together.
Building Bridges

Obi-Wan Kenobi?s master, Qui-Gon Jinn, rubbed a hand over his bearded chin as his eyes studied the vista below. They, along with Master Umurra and Padawan Knee?ki Bens, had been sent to Raing?usa by the Jedi Council to settle a land disputed between the Ranchi?Ohs and Shepheir?Ohs. Obi-Wan thought the solution negotiated by the Jedi and the two parties, a natural separation of the lands by the Plattos River, was obvious, but greedy elements of the Ranchi?Ohs people intended to build a bridge across the river to raid the Shepheir?Ohs lands, infringing on the settlement negotiated by their leader.

The team of Jedi was preparing for trouble.

?Master Umurra is returning,? Knee?ki whispered.

Obi-Wan turned his head just as Master Umurra began his ascent to where the other Jedi were perched after circling one of the small, bantha-sized knolls that dotted the Sepheir?Ohs? lands. ?What have you brought, Master Umurra??

The husky Jedi apportioned a black, wormy-looking root. ?Willmardagon Root,? he said, handing Obi-Wan a piece.

?Doesn?t look very appetizing,? he frowned, exchanging a look with Knee?ki.

Umurra took a big bite from his piece. ?It?s good for you, Padawan Kenobi,? he said around a mouthful of root as he handed Qui-Gon his ration. ?Grows hair on your chest.?

Knee?ki?s lip curled in disgust. ?The last thing I want is a hairy chest.?

Obi-Wan choked noisily, inducing a frown from his master.

?What have you seen, Qui-Gon,? Master Umurra asked in his softest voice, squatting at the Jedi?s side.

?Watchman Diland has decided to make an appearance at Guardian House,? he whispered. ?The activity in the warehouse where they?re building the temp-bridge has increased, too.?

Umurra nodded, taking the macro-binoculars from Qui-Gon and lifting them to his eyes. He focused them on the squat building at the center of the riverside down below them. ?Is that black speeder his??

Qui-Gon shook his head. ?No, the ones with the banners hanging from the tails are Watchman Diland?s party.?

Umurra checked again, spotting the small red, white, and blue banners on a line of speeders parked near the back of the building. ?He entered through the back??

?Yes,? Qui-Gon confirmed, casually brushing his palms over the tops of the tall grasses surrounding them.

Obi-Wan moved to Qui-Gon?s side. ?But why bring so much entourage only to enter the building in such a clandestine manner, Master??

?We will see, Padawan,? Qui-Gon told him. ?We will see.?

Hours passed.

Obi-Wan and Knee?ki were practicing their lightsaber techniques, their lightsabers locked into the OFF position by order of their masters, when Watchman Diland exited the Guardian House escorted by Guardian Slymbole. ?Where?s the rest of his entourage?? Umurra asked.

Qui-Gon had the macro-binoculars. ?They?re going out the back,? he announced, turning his eyes back to the front just in time to see Diland dip his hands in the sentinel bowl by the front door, wiping them on Slymbole?s vestments in a ritual manner before descending the stairs to where his speeder was now waiting for him.

?What?s happening, Master?? Obi-Wan asked, returning to Qui-Gon?s side after sensing his tension in the Force.

Qui-Gon exchanged a smile with Umurra as Slymbole watched Diland?s speeder drive away. ?It appears that Watchman Diland has successfully completed our negotiations.?

End/>

Out of the two most common ways of telling a story--the omniscient narrator and a main character?s point of view?I always use the neutral omniscient narrator. In this story I tried something different: a narrator who is the same age as the main character and not always correct.

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Title: Building Bridges for the Future
Time: approximately 30 years before TPM

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Jobal?s tears poured out of her as the dense forest buried her cries. No one would hear her and no one would ever find her. She was lost.

The five-year old girl felt shivers begin to creep over her body as the cold night air flew in. Soon her family would start searching for her but they would never look in the forest since she had not told anyone she liked to visit the towering trees that ruled the woods.

They would look for her in the library because that was her second favorite place to go. She loved the stories the old man there shared. He talked about large beasts called banthas that could go weeks without drinking water. He spoke of the Bulrani people who could make plates and bowls that could fall from the top of tall buildings and still not break. She would miss his story this afternoon and her parents would never find her.

Something brushed up against the girl?s leg. Jobal screamed and jumped away from the intruder. Just an insect. The Naboo girl waited for her heart to slow back to its normal rhythm and then began walking again.

It didn?t matter if she got more lost, right? Once someone got lost it didn?t matter how lost they were and maybe she would happen to choose the right way and end up at Climbing Tree where she started out.

The young girl wrapped her arms around her body. It was getting cold, her feet hurt, and she wanted to go home. Why wouldn?t the trees tell her which way to go? Surely they knew the way to the edge of the forest. Jobal shook her head sadly. Maybe it was because none of these trees were familiar. She only knew the trees at the edge of the forest where she lived. Besides Climbing Tree there were Twisted Tree, Jumping Tree?she really did see it jump once and it wasn?t her imagination?and Red Tree. There were lots more she had named but she felt too sad to think of them.

A shuffling sound alerted Jobal to the presence of something in front of her. She looked up and did what any Naboo child would do when seeing a live menacing gungan: she screamed. She tried to run but Fear held her in place. She would be eaten or drowned or turned into a bug or?

The gungan moved his face into what looked like a smile. Maybe he was happy because he had found his dinner. He would eat her, taking slow bites to cause her the most pain. Everyone knew that gungans were evil and mean and selfish and ugly and dirty and hungry. They were always hungry.

The gungan pointed to his eyes and then pointed to Jobal. Was he going to eat her eyes first? Jobal still couldn?t move. Whenever an adult told gungan stories to scare her she always thought that if she ever met a gungan she would be brave and even beat one up. Looking at the tall creature with long ears and big hands?probably so that he could hold his meals better?and big feet, the young girl realized she had been telling fibs. This gungan would eat her and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

He stepped closer.

Jobal wanted to scream but the forest would probably just take the gungan?s side and hide her pleas for help again.

Closer.

If only she were bigger or stronger or ? or braver. Then she wouldn?t be eaten.

Even closer.

Her parents would be sad when she didn?t come home and her best friend would miss her and maybe the trees would miss her too.

Almost touching her.

She would never grow up and visit all of Naboo and learn to pilot a speeder and have her own babies and learn to get the trees to talk to her. There was so much she wouldn?t be able to do all because she forgot to pay attention to where she was walkin

Title: Schizophrenic Xanatos

INT: Coruscant Night Club

The curtain opens, revealing Padawan Xanatos, standing nervously on stage in a pink tutu.

Xanatos: (taps mike) He-hello? Is this thing on? Oh, Sith, I?m so nervous. This is my first time on stage?what will I do?

Qui-Gon: Xanatos Gumphrey deCrion! I paid good money for all those singing lessons, and I?m not going to see them go to waste!

Xanatos: Oh, all right! (walks on stage) Okay, folks?for my first act, I present to you, Building Bridges, a song about love, hate, and stupid writers.

(All the writers in the room bristle, and tighten their grips on their rotten eggs.)

Oh, youthful writers of the day
Who mold us as they wish or may
I have a bone to pick with you
Oh yes I do, oh yes I doooooo!
You see you've made me quite a schizo
Schizo schizo Xano Xano!!!

(Xanatos?s voice cracks at the last note.)

Mrs. Organa: Bail, you take your toe out of your mouth this instant, or?NO, DON?T SUCK YOUR FATHER?S TOE!

(Xanatos ignores the random outburst and continues, singing his arpeggios with glee.)

One day you make me a gentle fellow,
Responsible, harmless, sweet and mellow.
And then you soak my hands in red blood,
Make me tainted like icky mud.

Mrs. Palpatine: Waiter, there?s a fly in my bowl!
Little Palpatine: (Pickspicks at bug) Whoa, cool! It?s a real bloodsucker! (pops it into his mouth)
Mrs. Palpatine: No, don?t eat it! Don?t you know that blood flies make you turn into a Dark Si?Can?t? breath? (her head falls into bowl of soup, amidst her son?s evil cackling.)

Today I make my master
A beautiful birthday cake
Tomorrow I crash his speeder
And laugh at in Obi-Wan?s wake

Obi-wan: (wakes up) Did someone say my name?
Siri: Yep, Xanatos just threatened to kill you in cold blood.
Obi-wan: Is that it? I?m going back to sleep them. (buries his face into his spaghetti and starts snoring.)

Oh writers of whom I speak
I have a bone to pick with you
Make me wild or make me meek
But stay constant, or? oh bantha poodoo!

3-year-old Padmé: Mommy, if he doesn?t stop singing, his trachea will detonate, causing a chain reaction which will eventually shatter every resonate object, and could possibly lead to galactic warfare!
Jobal Naberrie: Hush darling, you know perfectly well that this cannot happen unless the frequency of his voice is reaches the natural frequency of durasteel!
(Padmé nods thoughtfully, and cracks open physics books to look further.)

I?m as dark as a meadow lark
And light as the moonless night
I?m a?schizo schizo
Schizophrenic Xani
And I?m afraid
I find it uncanny

Jango: Is he done yet? I wanna go home to play Space Warriors 5000!
Mrs. Fett: You eat your vegetables first!
Jango: Awww? Bite me.
Mrs. Fett: (rubbing her head) Thank God there?s only one of you.

And for this there is only one cure
To connect the wild and the demure

(cymbals crash, Xanatos does a pirouette)

Will you build me a bridge
Between the good and the bad
So that poor Xanatos
Will not go mad?

Yaddle: Remember, do you? Like this, our first date was.
Yoda: (regarding his dearest lovingly) Like this, it was. (smooches Yaddle)
Yaddle: Let padawans see, we should not
Yoda: Worry, I do not. Learn from our example, they cannot! No girls here for them to choose. Draw a Jedi to the dark side, that three-year-old bookworm will not.

How can I know?
Am I light or dark?
Or perhaps rainbow?

Perhaps one day
I shall know?

(Xanatos?s voice fades into the distance. He takes a dramatic bow, and is rewarded by a chorus of babies crying, mothers scolding, Whills smooching, and toddlers screaming for their calculators...)

I think I did, I think I did, I think I DID IT! I managed to write a story under 2000 words for this challenge, with all five words, and make it a GFFA Whodunnit as well! (See this thread for details.) Woo-hoo!

*****

Hachas Tlatilco stopped the speeder in front of the correct address. Almost instantly, the door of the house opened and a man came out into the street, smiling broadly with his arms extended. ?Aned! It?s good of you to come.?

?How could I refuse the invitation of an old friend?? Anedjib asked, returning the man?s embrace, then stepping back. ?Hachas, this is Ha?py. We were at the Temple together.?

?Until you became a padawan and I ended up out here in the Inner Rim learning how to be a solicitor, of all things.?

?And Ha?py, this is my padawan Hachas Tlatilco.?

?Hachas, welcome.? Ha?py gave Hachas a more polite hug than the one he?d given his master, then stepped back and asked, ?Are you teaching Aned patience??

?Not deliberately,? Hachas replied, and both older men laughed.

?Come in.,? Ha?py said. ?We?re just about ready to sit down for lunch, and I?ll explain everything to everybody together.?

Seated at the table in the dining room were two very different women, whom Ha?py introduced as Imset and Amutef. Imset was middle-aged and very thin, with dark hair pulled back in a loose bun, and a naturally cheerful personality. By contrast, Amutef was young, about Hachas? age, and plump, with red hair caught back in a tight, severe-looking plait down her back, and very little to say for herself.

The table was already set, and Imset took the responsibility of being the hostess. As she passed the bowls of food around, Ha?py began to speak. ?My client, Qebehsenuf, died recently. He was quite a renowned researcher here and spent most of his life trying to prove that the ancient Jedi spent several hundred years on this planet before moving Core-wards. In recent months, Qebehsenuf had become a little ? strange.?

?A little?? Imset snorted. ?He walked around in nothing but a loincloth and a crown! Thought he was some kind of nobleman living thirty thousand years ago.?

?Er, yes,? Ha?py agreed. ?Qebehsenuf began to wear replicas of ancient costumes and talk about long-dead people as though they were alive and actually present.?

?It was quite an experience coming to visit him, let me tell you!? Imset interjected, laughing at the memory.

?Fortunately,? Ha?py went on, ?Qebehsenuf had given me detailed instructions for his funeral while he was still clear-minded ? more or less. He wanted a ceremony that was as close to the ancient Jedi ceremony as we could make it.?

?But he wasn?t a Jedi, was he?? Hachas asked.

?No, he wasn?t a Jedi. He wasn?t even like me, having been raised in the Temple. But if his theories were true, then the Jedi, or at least one branch of them, started here as a truly religious order and were seen as such. The power of the Force made them priests, who officiated at coronations, weddings and funerals ? ceremonies like that. This people believed in an afterlife where the spirit lived on, in the same world, but on a different plane. They believed that the dead people not only had to take a sacrifice with them, but they also needed a little help to get across a certain bridge to this different plane. The usual sacrifice was two coins. The nearest relative laid the coins on their eyes, then the priests lit the fire, and ? so they believed ? sent the spirit over the bridge with a little nudge of the Force.?

?Fascinating,? Anedjib said.

?Yes, isn?t it,? Ha?py said with a little smile. ?Before the funeral, the possessions of the deceased were given away to family and friends. The closest relative had to use part of the new wealth to buy the two coins for the sacrifice ? apparently, the priests could set the price ? then had to decide who got what.?

?Could the closest relative decide to keep all the possessions?? Hachas inquired, thinking of more than

Hey, good story Jane! Loved all the Ancient Egyptian names.

Now for the answer . . .

Here's my entry!

Building Bridges

A/N: This story takes place a really long time before the Prequel Trilogy. I felt that there was a definite possibility for the Naboo government to have started out as a monarchy, and end up making the gradual shift to a democracy. Anyways, that?s why Jashna talks of inheriting the throne from her father.

*~*~*~*
The doors to the throne room burst open explosively as the young queen stepped determinedly through the opening. An entourage scurried in her wake, each offering protestations to her first act as queen.

?Your Majesty, you can?t! The Gungans aren?t like us! They?re monsters! Evil creatures!? Tavin Ospen argued as his stride attempted to match hers.

The royal blue her shimmersilk of her gown swished, the gold beads weighting down her translucent gray half-veil clicked, and her leather-clad feet tapped the floor with each step. It was the only answer Tavin, and all the other advisors, got, at least until they were trotting down the stairs of the palace.

Once they reached the bottom of the steps, she spun, the skirt of her gown flaring out, and her intricately braided hair shivering in place. ?The Gungans are not monsters, Tavin Ospen, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself for making such a declaration. I am going to sign a peace treaty with Boss Kist, whether you like it or not. Now are you coming?? Queen Jashna Kabin, ruler of Naboo, demanded.

Knowing he had no choice, Tavin fell into step behind her as her pace slowed to a quick walk. Three handmaidens on each side, the seventeen-year-old queen made her way over to the red speeder that was her transportation on-planet. The covered speeder lifted with a whine and quickly began to make its way to the Barin Lakes.

?Your Majesty, I really must protest the way you have gone around planning this visit. It is completely rash- for all we know, the Gungans could open fire the moment they see us arriving- and it does not speak well for your reign. Jashna the Impatient they?re going to call you,? a small black-haired woman spoke up from a corner of the car as they sped past trees and rolling hills.

?That?s just a load of bantha fodder and you know,? Jashna returned indelicately. ?Besides, I gave my word to someone, and I?m obliged to keep it.?

?Surely they didn?t mean for you to do it now, so soon after your father?s ass- death,? Zalintae protested.

?You mean my father?s murder,? Jashna corrected her aide. ?And yes, that?s exactly what Koskemp wanted. My first act as queen was to be instigating peace between Gungans and Nubians,? the queen replies. ?No matter how much I might hurt inside, I have to put it aside. This is more important than my personal loss.?

Jashna turned away from her entourage to look out the window of the car. They were coming to a slow stop far back on the edge of a sandy beach. Water lapped the shores of the lake, echoing the steel color of the sky above. Dark clouds floated above as if waiting for some signal to release their floods. Heavens, release your tears for those lost to us forever! her mind cried even as she stepped out of the speeder.

?Please wait here, Your Majesty,? one of the guards requested. Jashna nodded regally and settled herself in to wait. Her clothes whispered and tinkled as she seated herself on a large flat stone near the aircar. Her royal blue gown- the color of mourning- fit her body well, but over it she wore a slightly bulky vest made of black shimmersilk and embroidered with gold beads. The vest would stop blaster fire if she was attacked. Her half-veil came to a dramatic, gold-lined stop at her cheekbones. Her chestnut hair was pulled into a complex series of braids- braids only seen when a loved one had died.

Another guard came forward. ?If you?ll please step this way, Your Majesty.? The guard, clad in black and silver, led the way to a small red submarine.

One of her handmaidens activated the hover capability in her shoes without her realizing

Hi, this is an AU with characters from later time periods, but a setting most like that before TPM, so I was advised to post it here. I'll move it if its wrong.

This takes place in a galaxy where the Empire never existed, Anakin never turned, and the Jedi simply kept keeping the peace as they had for thousands of years before.

Title: Building Bridges
Disclaimer: Not mine.
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?Hi, I?m Corran.?

?I know who you are, Halcyon.?

?Oh, ok.? Corran seemed to shrink slightly away from the red haired apprentice as if minimizing the area her acidic tongue could attack. ?So, this is my first mission with my Master, have you been on many? What have you seen?? She toured above him and the few scant years age difference seemed massive against her long legs, dangling braid and discontent glare.

?Yeah. Once I even saw a Bantha dance.? She rolled her eyes and returned to her reading. Ignored, Corran sat, twisting his padawan braid as an excited reminder of his new status. Every so often his hand would brush up against his short hair and he would flinch from the tickle, still unused to the shorn feel.

They sat in silence until the door across from them opened to allow three adults to enter. The tall, male Jedi, obviously leading the others, a female Jedi and another female companion, gestured to the seated padawans, and nodded for them to stand.

?Ms. Karachichi, this is my padawan, Mara. She?s nearly half way through her Padawanship. I expect her to compete in the coming sparing competition.? Mara let out a small smile at the last comment, and Corran relaxed, thinking that she couldn?t be all bad.

Suddenly Master Jacardi was speaking about him. ?This is Corran; he?s Mey-Lin?s padawan. Corran?s a Corellian Jedi, so he can provide you with a great deal of information on their own unique tradition.? The woman following the two masters bestowed Corran with smile. ?Corran, this is your first mission, correct?? Mara?s Master asked him.

?Yes sir, Master Mey-Lin only took me as a padawan a month and a half ago.?

?That?s quite a short time for training.? Mr. Karachichi said to the masters, turning her back to Mara and Corran.

?Yes,? Master Mey-Lin replied, ?but Corran?s skills and maturity are beyond what one usually encounters in initiates.? Corran glowed with her praise.

?Padawans, this is Ms. Karachichi. She?s a reporter who will be shadowing our mission for research into a story on the Jedi?s roles in diplomacy. Please assist in answering her questions later. As for now we must finish some preliminary work, finding accommodations and transport. It?s sweltering outside, so why don?t you wait here.? With that, the adults were off, but not before Master Mey-Lin gave Corran a distinct, stay out of trouble smile. He saw Mara get one as well.

As soon as the door to the arid outdoors shut, Corran heard Mara muttered, ?Babysitting a stupid almost initiate and a boring diplomacy mission, fun.? He thought it wise to keep his mouth shut, and instead started counting the number of tiles on the floor.

An hour later, after Mara rebuffed three conversation attempts from Corran, Ms. Karachichi returned, smiling widely. ?Hello Corran,? she gave a nod to him, ?Mara,? another nod, ?I?m Sue Karachichi. You can call me Sue, but only when your Masters aren?t around.? She giggled as if she was sharing a secret. ?I?m working on an article for a holonews station on the Jedi, and you two are going to be such a great help for me. Now I figured we?d get to know each other a little without your Masters around before the official start of the mission. So, I?m going to ask you a few questions, ok??

?Yes, Ms. Karachichi.? Mara answered.

?Ok,? she responded brightly. Pulling a commlink from her belt she said, ?Now lets pretend this is a magic wand. I?m going to hand it to both of you. When you hold it, imagine it could change one thing in the galaxy and then tell me what you would change.?

After forty-five minutes, Ms. Karachichi left, evidently exhausting her supply of asinine questions. But