Before - Legends Before the Saga I Discover Great Deceptions and Truths (Siri Tachi's Dear Diary Challenge 2024)

Title: I Discover Great Deceptions and Truths

Author: devilinthedetails

Genre: General; Drama; Friendship; Action/Adventure.

Timeline: Before the Saga-Legends.

Characters: Siri Tachi; Adi Gallia; Bruck Chun; Obi-Wan Kenobi; Qui-Gon Jinn; many others.

Summary: Siri Tachi’s diary as a senior initiate when the Temple is under threat and during her first mission as a newly-minted Padawan.

Author’s Note: Written for the Dear Diary Half Marathon Challenge 2024.

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Dear Diary,

Well, I don’t know if you can be properly termed a diary. Traditional diaries are made of paper. Leatherbound. Written in old-fashioned pencil or ink. Pencil that can be erased. Ink that can stain fingers.

You are not such a diary. You are an electronic datapad. Small enough to be held in my hand when I record my thoughts and feelings in you or tucked in my tunic pocket when you are switched off.

You came with a silver stylus stuck to your side with which I can scrawl words onto your blue-lit screen. Words that seem to fade into the encrypted ether whenever I finish scribbling them but can be called from the abyss at any time for editing or reflection at the simple entry of a password.

I say the simple entry of a password, but simplicity can be a deceiving swamp many beings have become stuck in over the wild, wide-spanning course of galactic history. By that I mean, if anyone types in three consecutive incorrect passwords, you will self-destruct without warning. Deleting all your data with you.

I don’t have many secrets to share, but those I do have will remain safely encapsulated within you for all eternity. My privacy will not be violated. It’s the principle of the matter.

You are, nevertheless, a first person account of my affairs. A document of the life and times of Siri Tachi. Ten-year-old senior Jedi initiate. Eager to become a Padawan and explore the Republic as I serve it. Hopefully soon after my eleventh birthday when I become age-eligible for the elevation to the ranks of the apprentices.

So, I will call you diary because it feels more natural to me. It is straightforward. Encourages openness and honesty. Invites intimacy. I am blunt and make no bones about it, you will discover. Subtlety is not my style when I can be bold.

You might be wondering–if the bundle of circuits that comprises you is capable of any curiosity at all–how you came to be in my hands. How you received the dubious distinction of being my diary.

Wonder no more for I shall tell all to you. Laying all my sabacc cards on the table because I am not one to clutch them close to my chest. To jealously guard them.

I got you in my morning meditation class. The first red and orange fingers of dawn were beginning to scratch at the glimmering transparisteel windows of the Temple as I sat, legs crossed, on my soft meditation mat. In the midst of a handful of other senior initiates. Our meditation classes being some of our smallest-sized at the Temple. No doubt a measure meant to increase our inner (and external) quiet and enhance our ability to concentrate.

Yet, despite the small class size, I felt my mind growing impatient. Unable to find the discipline to complete the exercises Jedi Council member Adi Gallia, who taught this morning meditation session, was leading us in. Her voice calm and cool as a brook. Poise radiating from her in the Force.

I kept thinking about my other lessons. All the projects and activities I had scheduled for the day. I was brimming like an overflowing cup of juma juice with energy and excitement. It took all my Jedi willpower not to jiggle my knees and ankles.

Master Gallia, shrewd and clever as she is, must have noticed my lack of composure. My ongoing war with myself to sit still on my meditation mat. The distinct absence of serenity in me.

For when the session was over, she requested above the sounds of folding mats and boots striding toward the door, “A word, Siri?”

I had the gloomy, foreboding feeling that I was about to be treated to more than one scolding words from Master Gallia, and it was with some trepidation that I approached the front of the room where she stood in her elegant Tholothian headdress.

“Master?” I bowed to her as I completed my approach.

“You struggle to quiet your mind when we meditate.” Master Gallia eyed me keenly. Assessing me in a way that made my stomach tighten. “To focus. To find clarity and inner harmony.”

“I do,” I admitted. Ducking my head. There was no point lying to a Jedi Master. They would sense the truth in the Force. Rebuke you for not having the courage to tell it immediately. For trying to conceal it.

“Is it the same–” Master Gallia quirked an eyebrow– “when you meditate at night before bed?”

“It is.” My cheeks burned like stars gone nova as I made this confession.

All Jedi students were expected to meditate before drifting to sleep, but I often found my focus slipping then as well. Wandering over everything I wanted to accomplish the next day. Dwelling on the future instead of living in the present moment as Jedi were meant to do.

I could focus without difficulty in my advanced chemistry, astrophysics, and calculus classes, but found my attention inevitably went wool-gathering whenever I sought to meditate. It was extremely embarrassing.

“I thought that might be the case.” Master Gallia gave a brief, clinical nod. Extended you to me. “I have something for you. Something that might calm your over-eager mind. Inject some clarity into the whirling vortex of your thoughts and feelings. Grant you some of that elusive peace.”

“What is it?” I took you in my hands. Tossed you from palm to palm. Stared down at you. Unable to fathom how you could be all those things Master Gallia promised.

“A recording device,” Master Gallia explained. Smiling faintly at my bafflement. “You can write your thoughts and feelings in it. Password protect it if you like. Writing brings clarity and crispness to our minds. Peace to our spirits.”

“Yes, Master.” I nodded even though I was still puzzling over what she had said.

“You may go.” Master Gallia made a slight gesture of dismissal. “You don’t want to be late for your next lesson.”

“If I am,” I remarked wryly, “I will blame you.”

Punishments for tardiness at the Temple were never more severe than extra assignments or meditations. Usually meditations in my case. The Masters knew meditation was a weakness of mine. Gave me all possible opportunities to strengthen in it.

As I left the meditation chamber with a final bow to Master Gallia, I slid you into my tunic pocket where you have remained all day. Resting there throughout my other lessons, my meals, and my lightsaber training in the dojos.

It is only now that I have taken you out again to record the memory of my conversation with Master Gallia that it occurs to me that she offered me a gift of sorts this morning.

Gifts are rare as snow on a desert world among the Jedi. Jedi are not to have any possessions after all. Possessions can spark selfishness. Kindle burning jealousies. Arouse envies. Promote forbidden attachments.

Thus, among the Jedi, gifts are customarily only exchanged in certain pivotal moments prescribed or tolerated to varying degrees by long-nourished tradition. When a Master asks a Padawan and the apprentice accepts, the apprentice may be given a gift to celebrate the moment. A Padawan’s thirteenth birthday, an occasion of intense meditation, may be marked with another present. After a Padawan’s Knighting ceremony, a Master may grant the former apprentice a final gift.

I am not Master Gallia’s apprentice.

Yet, she has given you to me.

I will express my gratitude by writing in you regularly whether it brings the peace of spirit and clarity of mind she promised or not.

My eyelids are starting to get heavy as permacrete now. I will turn off my lights and meditate on all that has transpired today–all that the Force and Master Gallia have given me–before falling asleep.

Good night, diary.

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha Thank you so much for reading and commenting! I'm so glad that you thought this was a super start, and I hope you will continue to enjoy Siri's diary as it progresses. Candor is a very Siri trait, so she will probably continue to display that throughout her diary!

Master Gallia is very wise and observant indeed. Noticing Siri's strengths and weaknesses, such as her struggle with meditation, and helping Siri find a way to overcome that meditation weakness with a diary.

Yes, I think Siri is very concrete minded so tangible things like lessons in mathematics and sciences come more easily than more metaphysical aspects of Jedi training like meditating for serenity and guidance. Especially since being still is a struggle for young Siri.

@earlybird-obi-wan Thank you so much for reading and commenting! Yes, Siri will go on to become Obi-Wan's great friend, even though this diary will focus more on the rocky days of her rivalry with him. But I hope to write more diaries from her in the future showing their growing friendship (and maybe some romance as well)

@Happy Sando Thank you so much for reading and commenting! Siri seems to be cool wherever she appears so hopefully you will enjoy her portrayal in this diary as well

I'm so happy to hear that you found this to be a brilliant inaugural entry and that you enjoyed how she addressed her datapad and felt that it revealed so much about her as a person. Which is definitely what I hoped would be the case!

Jedi humor--especially PT Jedi humor--does require a lot of balance to write. Almost like being a Jedi!

Thank you again for the thoughtful review, and I hope you will enjoy the next chapter just as much

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Dear Diary,

My hair was getting too long again. I hate when it starts to grow too far past my shoulders because it just starts getting in the way, taking too much time to brush in the mornings (time I could be filling with training or meditation), and generally being a nuisance. So I scheduled an early morning appointment with the Temple hairdressers this morning before my lessons.

I rode the turbolift down to the salon levels. Was instantly assaulted with the smell of a hundred hair products as I stepped up to the reception desk. Announced to the senior initiate, Milani Oleen, on secretarial duties there that I had arrived for my appointment.

She checked me in on her datapad. Then told me to wait on the plush chairs near the entrance for my hairdresser to come get me. As I sank into one of the cushioned chairs, I eyed the holozines arrayed on a caf table in front of the seat I had claimed with more than a hint of asperity. The cover pages of these holozines were spangled with all the most lurid celebrity gossip and scandals, and I couldn’t understand why such trashy tabloids were permitted to pollute our Temple.

I was thus scowling when my hairdresser, Devika Roshni, approached the reception area. Invited me to accompany her back to her chair where she did all her hair cutting and styling.

“How do you want your hair cut this time?” she asked me as I plopped into the chair before her mirror. A question she asked me every time I came here even though my answer never changed.

“A bit above my shoulders.” I offered my standard response to this inquiry.

“I will cut off this much.” She indicated the amount of hair I would lose.

“That’s right.” I gave an indifferent nod. Glad to lose the hair that was weighing me down. Wasting my time.

“Very good.” She beckoned for me to follow her toward the sinks placed in a windowed niche that looked out over the bustling traffic lanes of Coruscant. Currently congested with billions of citizens making their commutes to work or school. “Let’s shampoo and rinse your hair, shall we?”

Resigned to the prospect of pampering, I trailed her over to the row of sinks. Leaned back in the leather chair she indicated. Reclining my neck against the cool rim of the basin.

Hot water began to flow through my hair. Devika’s voice inquired solicitously, “Is the temperature good?”

“Very.” I closed my eyes. Let the hot water wash over me. Devika’s fingers curl through my hair. Massage my scalp. Sought to practice my meditation which I had been told by more than one Jedi Master required significant improvement.

Failed dismally in this endeavor as Devika chose to fill the silence that could have existed between us with vapid chatter about the latest celebrity gossip that had no doubt decorated the holozines I had disapproved of so much on the caf table. Her rambling about who had cheated on whom and who had divorced whom undeterred by my terse, noncommittal grunts.

I could feel my patience with Devika waning as she wrapped a towel around my wet head and ushered me back to her hair cutting station.

As she began chopping off my hair with her scissors, she commented, “You do have such beautiful hair. It’s a shame you cut it so short instead of letting it grow long.”

“Letting it grow long is an inconvenience.” I glowered at her in the mirror. “And a vanity. Jedi are not vain.”

The hairdressers at the Jedi Temple were not Jedi. Merely regular Coruscanti citizens employed by the Jedi who would go home to their families at the end of their work days. Often didn’t understand Jedi ways or forgot the most basic Jedi tenets. Needed to have the simplest Jedi principles and doctrines explained to them over and over.

“Is beauty really vanity?” Devika’s scissors continued to slice through my hair.

“It is if it becomes a distraction or an ego boost.” I stared straight ahead. Spoke flatly. “Something that hampers us but that we cling to because it is a source of pride for us.”

“But can’t asceticism become as much a point of pride as beauty?” Devika seemed to have mistaken herself for a philosopher when she was merely a hair stylist meant to babble about celebrity gossip while her clients tuned her out. “As much of a hindrance and an ego boost?”

“No,” I replied curtly enough to discourage further questions or debate about my personal fashion decisions.

I watched with satisfaction as the blonde carpet of my fallen hair continued to grow around the base of my chair. Smiling slightly as I contemplated how it would be swept up and dumped into the trash along with the hair of any other Jedi who visited the salon today. That fallen hair was no longer a part of me. I was detached from it. In keeping with Jedi philosophy.

When my hair had been cut and dried so that it landed just above my shoulders, Devika gushed over me. Commenting on how my short hair only served to emphasize the glow of my clear skin.

“That’s not why I keep my hair at this length,” I snapped. Shoving myself out of my chair and striding toward the exit.

My departure was unfortunately delayed as I passed the reception desk when Milani Oleen trilled from behind her datapad as if she expected me to stop so she could admire my new haircut. Running her fingers through my hair. Stroking and petting me as if I were an adorable puppy or purring kitten. “Your hair looks so beautiful, Siri. I’m truly jealous of it.”

“No Jedi,” I reminded her primly, reciting a mantra all Jedi memorized in the creche, “is envious of another. We all have our own gifts that must be nurtured and celebrated.”

“So celebrate the beauty of your hair.” Milani seemed nonplussed by my reaction. “Let me celebrate it. Don’t be an uptight, self-righteous stick in the swamp.”

I bristled. Thought this was a rather harsh and unfair assessment of my character given that I was enduring one of the great trials of my life: getting a haircut. Of course I was going to be a bit temperamental. My nerves frayed raw like a chafed rope.

“My hair is a collection of dead cells just like anyone else’s and is nothing to celebrate,” was the wittiest rejoinder I could devise under such short notice as I hastened toward the turbolift that would carry me upstairs to my lessons.

My lessons that were all less difficult than getting my haircut, I assure you, dear diary.

At least it will be another four months at least before I need to repeat the grim ritual of getting my too-long hair chopped off. I must be grateful for what small blessings the Force bestows upon me. That is Jedi teaching, after all.

I will meditate on that now before bed. Master Gallia would be proud of me. Of my discipline and focus.

Rest well in your electronic slumber, dear diary. Perhaps in your artificial existence and intelligence you enjoy a greater serenity than any Jedi. Another interesting topic to consider during my upcoming meditation session.

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha Thank you so much for reading and commenting! So glad you enjoyed the slice of life feeling to last entry, and we will see more of that determined desire from Siri to have the last word as the diary progresses

@earlybird-obi-wan Thank you so much for reading and for the kind words! So happy to hear that you had fun reading about Siri's trip to the Temple hairdressers and appreciated how it showcased the civilians employed at the Jedi Temple. I got a chuckle out of Siri's comments about hair and am glad you did as well

@ConservativeJedi321 Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! There is definitely a charm to "day in the life" type stories, especially about the Jedi (who are probably my favorite part of Star Wars), and the diary format seems to lend itself so well to telling those sorts of daily life stories.

It can definitely be strange to think of our heroic Jedi doing anything as ordinary as getting a hair cut, but as you say, it is something that needs to be done. I must admit that I had fun writing the idle conversation because it really did feel very relatable to me. Especially as someone who had gotten a haircut shortly before writing the chapter

I agree that it would be wise for more Jedi to keep journals or diaries. They are indeed a perfect way of directing and controlling emotions without outright ignoring them. Which I think could be helpful for many Jedi!

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Dear Diary,

I sat at breakfast listening to the currents of initiate gossip swirl around me as I cut up my two hard-boiled hawk-bat eggs. An excellent source of protein to fuel my mind in my academic lessons and my body in my physical training.

“Did you hear–” Basma Arwa, who always had the news of the latest scandal to dissect with anyone who would listen and was chewing on a thickly buttered slice of toast (high in carbs, sugar, and not much else, I noted critically), asked the table at large– “that Obi-Wan Kenobi is scheduled to leave the Temple this morning?”

“No.” I paused in the middle of lifting a forkful of hard-boiled hawk-bat egg to my mouth. “He doesn’t turn thirteen for another four weeks.”

He shouldn’t have been scheduled to leave the Temple until then. Initiates who failed to become Padawans were supposed to have until their thirteenth birthdays to find a Master to take them on as an apprentice.

Obi-Wan Kenobi, therefore, should have been permitted to remain at the Temple until his thirteenth birthday before arrangements for his departure to the Agricultural Corps comprised of washed-out Jedi initiates were made.

Unless he had messed up somehow. Behaved impulsively or violated some core Temple rule that compelled the Masters to schedule his departure on an earlier transport. To deem that he was unsuitable material for a Padawan. Not the cloth from which a Jedi could be cut and sewn.

“No, he doesn’t,” agreed Basma. Slathering a second piece of toast with what could only be called a copious amount of dewberry jam. Confirming my internal speculation, she continued with the glee of a gossip in full dramatic flow, “But he chose to give Bruck a beating so bad that Bruck had to go to the healers after their lightsaber training with Yoda was supposed to be over for the night. After an offense that grave, there was no way the Masters could allow him to remain at the Temple. Permit him any more time to potentially advance to the rank of Padawan when he is obviously not capable of the discipline and self-control required in a Jedi’s life.”

I glanced over at the table where Obi-Wan Kenobi sat. Presumably exchanging farewells with his friends: sweet-natured Bant Eerin, easygoing Garen Muln, and the eternally hungry Reeft who seemed to have a vacuum for a stomach.

Even from this distance, I thought I saw evidence that Jedi healing techniques and ointments had been applied to him as well. Perhaps the fight had not been as one-sided as Basma portrayed. Maybe Obi-Wan had acquired his share of bruises and burns as in the conflict as well.

“Always knew he wouldn’t make it,” Aalto, Bruck’s closest companion at the Temple, was commenting at the table next to us. Loudly enough to be heard at the opposite end of the canteen. Clearly seeking to provoke more violence from Obi-Wan. It would be interesting to see if hot-headed Obi-Wan was fool enough to fall for it.

When Obi-Wan possessed sufficient wit not to respond to this insult, Bruck upped the ante by hurling a black Barabel fruit onto Obi-Wan’s table. It landed mere centimeters away from Obi-Wan’s breakfast tray. Spattering the once-beige robes of the unfortunately-placed Garen Muln and Bant Eerin with what appeared to be very dark, sticky juice.

Obi-Wan started to rise from his chair. I wondered where all the Jedi Masters and Knights were. Those who should have maintained order here. Should have reprimanded Bruck for throwing food. Wasting nutritious fruit. Should have assigned him extra chores and meditation to build his self-control. Manage his temper.

Yet, when I looked around the room, I saw no Masters or Knights present. They must have abandoned us to solve our own conflicts. Resolve our own issues. For obscure reasons only they could fathom.

Bant rested a hand over Obi-Wan’s. Could be seen coaxing him back into his seat with her usual calm gentleness.

The ever-hungry Reeft did his own part to defuse the tension. Asking in hopeful tones, “I don’t mean to sound greedy, but are you going to eat that Barabel fruit?”

“Thank you, Bruck,” Obi-Wan shouted. Scraped fruit off his table with a spoon and into a cup for Reeft’s consumption. “The people of Bandomeer will be honored when I share with them your gift–the gift of one farmer to another.”

It was to Bandomeer Obi-Wan was being sent then. A minor mining world. Inconsequential on the galactic scale, but the Agricultural Corps did have an outpost there that needed staffing apparently.

Bruck flushed at the implication that he, who would be celebrating his thirteenth birthday in three months’ time, was destined to become a farmer as well rather than a Padawan.

“I wonder–” Basma tapped her chin meditatively as she studied the discomposed Bruck– “if Bruck deliberately sought to provoke Obi-Wan last night. Tried to get him kicked out of the Temple early. They are rivals, after all.”

“He probably did,” I observed cooly. Archly. “But that still means Obi-Wan was foolish enough to spring an obvious trap. To fall head over clumsy heels into it. Why should the Masters want someone that foolish and so lacking in impulse-control to become a Padawan? When he let Bruck trick him in such a blatant manner, he forfeited his opportunity to become a Jedi. Proved that he was not strong enough to carry the responsibility of being a Jedi on his shoulders.”

I went back to finishing my hard-boiled hawk-bat eggs. Deciding that Obi-Wan and his fate had no relevance to me. That I would never be foolish enough to fall for the sort of trap that Obi-Wan had, and that I would never be in a position where I was weeks away from being sent to the Agricultural Corps as my thirteenth birthday approached. I was more determined than ever that I should be chosen as a Padawan at the earlier end of acceptability. Perhaps shortly after my eleventh birthday.

Not too long from now. I would step up my intensity in my trainings and classes. Be more focused and disciplined. Prove that I was ready to assume all the responsibilities of a Jedi. That I could be trusted unlike reckless, hot-tempered Obi-Wan Kenobi. I would be a perfect contrast to him. Presenting myself as ideal Padawan material. Knights would be eager to select me if I did so.

I would not be sent to the Agricultural Corps. I would not leave the Temple in disgrace.

I would go on missions with my future Master and become a Jedi Knight in my own right. Bringing peace and justice to the galaxy.

 

@earlybird-obi-wan Thank you so much for reading and commenting on my Siri diary! Siri is cunning to spot the trap that Bruck laid, but she might be a bit overconfident in assuming that she wouldn't fall into such a trap herself (pride can be a bit of a weakness for our young Siri) since she does have a little bit of a temper and some issues with being impulsive herself. It's easy for her to think that she wouldn't fall into the trap when she is observing from a distance, but if she were up close, she might have toppled into it herself. But over time she will perhaps develop more charity and empathy toward Obi-Wan. As the ground work is laid for their deep friendship!

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! Siri definitely does have a dismissive attitude toward indulging in yummy carbs. One I definitely do not share since I love indulging in yummy carbs myselfShe is indeed super critical and judgmental of Obi-Wan's recklessness and falling into what she considers an obvious trap, but I think time will teach her to have more compassion for Obi-Wan and to be more wary of Bruck and his bullying tendencies. And time will also teach her that she can fall into traps as well. She is still a youngling with much to learn as Yoda would say!

@LLL Thank you so much for reading and reviewing Glad you are loving the snapshots of daily life at the Temple (one of my favorite things to write about) and that you enjoy this depiction of Siri as prideful and somewhat of a terse writer, which reflects the blunt side of her personality.

@Kahara Thank you so much for reading and for your thoughtful review I'm so thrilled that you are enjoying Siri's perspective here, and a spiky little hedgehog of a Jedi initiate is such a perfect way to describe her! Some of her glaring faults and blind spots are definitely on display here as areas of growth, but there are also those glimmers of promise and potential that make her such an endearing character to write.

It makes my day to hear that you loved the intro to the diary and how the ability to keep its contents secret was a facet that appealed to Siri even if she didn't have many secrets that she actually wanted or needed to keep. The contrast between her and Bant is definitely very sharp and on full display in the different diaries that they write in, which are indeed so reflective of their different personalities as you note. And it definitely speaks volumes as well that Adi has been so observant of Siri's nature that she picked a diary so well-suited to her temperament.

You have the perfect mental image for the picture I was trying to paint there, and it makes me super happy

I think Adi is a great teacher for Siri. Able to identify specific areas where Siri can grow and find ways tailored to Siri's personality to help Siri accomplish that growth. And she is not afraid to be creative and hands-on in her teaching methods rather than just recite standard Jedi strictures about being calm and whatnot. It makes her a very special and valuable mentor to Siri.

I totally got a chuckle out of writing that. Very cheeky from our young Siri

I'm so glad that you loved that exploration of Jedi gifting traditions, and it does indeed underline the significance of the gift that Siri received from Adi. It really does hint that Adi may be considering taking Siri as her Padawan when the time comes...Not to spoiler anything from the Jedi Apprentice books, of course

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Dear Diary,

I was part of a group of initiates shelling purple peas in the Temple gardens under the stern supervision of Master Demetra Lim, who had never, to my knowledge, encountered a joke that made her laugh instead of scowl at the one who dared offer it.

The mandatory volunteer work was supposed to remind us that we were meant to dedicate our lives to unwavering, uncomplaining service. Service to the Republic. To the Force. To our fellow Jedi, no matter how irksome they were. To sentient life in general with all its flaws and foibles.

We were also supposed to be attending to our shelling duties in focused, contemplative silence, but Yara Shula, who shared the stone bench with me had never been one to pay mind to any such strictures governing appropriate times and places for conversation at the Temple.

“Did you hear Master Qui-Gon chose Obi-Wan as his Padawan?” she remarked as our fingers flew through the banal task of shelling purple peas into a large clay bowl painted with blue and yellow meadow flowers. “On Bandomeer? After Obi-Wan completed some brave, heroic act or other?”

“But Master Qui-Gon never takes a Padawan.” I was not proud of the fact that my mouth was likely agog as I gazed at Yara. “Not after what happened to his last apprentice.”

I didn’t know the full details–they were shrouded in murk and myth among the Temple initiates–of what had transpired with Master Qui-Gon’s former Padawan. Only that there had been some failure or tragedy involved, whether on Master Qui-Gon’s or his pupil’s part, and Qui-Gon had resolved to never take another student. How could Obi-Wan have possibly made him alter that stubborn oath? It was unfathomable. Left my mind boiling with speculation.

“He’s taken a Padawan now,” Yara reiterated. “Somehow, Obi-Wan must have done enough to impress him. To change his mind about choosing an apprentice.”

“How could he have impressed Master Qui-Gon when he didn’t in the duel with Bruck?” I eyed Yara skeptically. The Council, in a fit of inexplicable mercy toward the reckless and hot-headed Obi-Wan Kenobi had permitted him to fight in a final tournament with other initiates including Bruck. Granting him a last opportunity to impress a Master enough to take him as a Padawan. He had won the tournament, beating Bruck, but still not been selected by a Master. Had still been shipped off to the Agri Corps as unwanted goods.

“Perhaps he did impress Master Qui-Gon more than he or anyone realized in the tournament,” Yara theorized. Rather without any compelling supporting evidence in my opinion. Evidence beyond Master Qui-Gon’s strange decision to choose Obi-Wan as his apprentice, that is. “Maybe he planted seeds in hard ground and rocky soil that burst into bloom on Bandomeer.”

“Being in the gardens–” I observed waspishly– “has certainly honed your capacity for horticultural metaphors.”

Before Yara could devise a clever retort, Master Demetra Lim interjected with a firm rebuke to the pair of us. “Siri. Yara. We are not gossiping and chattering. We are shelling peas in silent, productive tranquility. Reflecting on the beauty of the gardens where we work. Meditating on the harmony of the Living Force we commit ourselves to serving.”

“Yes, Master,” I mumbled in unison with Yara. Hunching over the clay bowl with its rather too cheerily painted flowers. Feeling more humiliated than at harmony with the Living Force that dwelled in me and all beings.

Writing this only causes me to relive that feeling of humiliation. It does not bring the peace Master Gallia promised when she gave you to me. Peace can be so blasted elusive even for a Jedi.

 

Since I can't offer a nice bowl of cozy chicken noodle soup in person for your battle against covid, I figured that a warm and comfy review was the next best thing - especially since this story has been on my to-read list since you first started posting as it was, and I was so happy to see that you made progress on an update as part of your WIP month goal!

So, without further ado . . .

I was struck by how tangible this was, even when working with such an intangible medium as a text entry/voice recording on a datapad. It's such a lovely string of words to read, all by itself. I could smell and feel this passage in such a tangible way, which I always enjoy as a reader!

My next thought was that Siri - like many Jedi children, I can image - is already so incredibly mature, well beyond her years. Needless to say, I don't think that I would have written a diary entry like this at ten years old. But that's Siri for you.

As is this! I can really see a glimpse of that immovable character who sees so starkly in black and white just a year later in The Fight For Truth.

Speaking of those near-tangible descriptions! This one is lovely too.

I'm really beginning to fall into the rhythm you've set for Siri's voice - those short, no-nonsense sentences with that bit of lyricism creeping through. As much as that is your own penchant for beautiful prose, you really get the sense that maybe, for all that those reflections and observations are a part of her, she'd rather them not be as she chases that ideal of what she thinks a Jedi should be.

And, of course, I loved the glimpse you gave us of these earliest days between Adi and Siri!

Oh, honey - that's a trick for adults at any age, let alone a little girl, which she yet still is, no matter how mature. She holds herself to such a high standard, which is both admirable and understandable and yet heartbreaking in its own way.

Yep, I had a silly grin stuck to my face.

SAME. It took me forever to finally cut my own hair short, but now that I have I am never going back again.

And now I love thinking about all of the knights and masters who enjoy indulging in celebrity gossip. 100% Kit Fisto reads them - and I love to think that Mace or Quinlan or even Obi-Wan do too, even if they'd never admit to doing so.

These are very wise words.

I laughed out loud for Milani, I really did. Siri is trying so hard to be detached and serene, but she's still a little girl getting a haircut. Of course her nerves are going to be on edge, and of course she's going to feel temperamental as a result of those conflicting emotions. Fraying like a chafed rope really says it all.

This brought back so many happy JA feelings that are near and dear to my heart.

Basma is insightful! And Siri is too with her own cool logic.

And this is where I mention how much I have enjoyed seeing these everyday moments at the Temple - and I continue to get a kick out of how studious Siri is, even in the face of a master whose outlook and disposition is the entire opposite of everything she's striving to be.

This is just such a Siri description of Yara, I can't even.

ALL OF THE JA FEELINGS, I SAY

And this is where I want to hug this little youngling once more - little as she'd appreciate such comfort at this venture - and tell her to breathe. Everything is going to be okay! There's nothing to be humiliated for (such a strong word for such a strong feeling!) for receiving a little gentle correction from a master - especially from a master who could have cut off the chatter and the gossiping even earlier, but chose to let the students express themselves for a time. It's all a part of growing up, and life even beyond childhood, at that. She's built these expectations up so impossibly high for herself that failing to reach them only disturbs her peace even more so, is the paradox that only time and experience will teach her. I look forward to seeing more of that journey to true balance for Siri as you continue this diary.


Thank you so much for sharing your work with us, as always! I can't wait to read more.

 

Just caught up with this delightful diary! Even though Siri is not a character I know well canon-material-wise, I really enjoyed the voice you gave her in the four chapters you’ve got here. She’s got a delightful mix of sweet and snark, and she clearly has high standards for herself and for her fellow initiates—right down to what they eat for breakfast! I think Master Gallia was very wise in giving her the gift of the diary to help her organize her thoughts and feelings; as Siri knows that can be a “two steps forward, one step back” process, but I think she’s making pretty darn fine progress. I loved her entry about getting her haircut—headcanon totally accepted about the Jedi Temple’s hair salon! (They’ve got to have someone do it, and it makes sense that they might hire non-Jedi—and have celeb gossip magazines lying about!) Devika’s advice was very wise in its way too, and even if maybe Siri isn’t ready to consider it just yet, maybe she’ll remember it for later and be glad she did. And these latest two entries show us a lot about how Siri relates to her fellow initiates—and potentially to one in particular! I can see she is very interested in these developments surrounding Obi-Wan, even when she thinks she is resolving not to be. (And I have to say, Bruck sounds like a real piece of work, and it sounds like Obi did a fine job holding his own against his taunts.) I think I am going to follow this, because I’m very eager to see how things go now that it looks like Obi won’t be AgriCorpsed after all! Wonderful work on a very enjoyable read.