Writer's Challenge 4 - Light.

Writer?s Challenge 4 - Light


Well, I?ve borrowed another challenge off the great John Marsden.


Unless you live in a cement bunker light dominates our way of life. Fire (both for warmth and destruction), sun light, candles and even fluorescents can shape the way we feel and react to a situation. A romantic dinner is less romantic if it is held under a floodlight then it is a candle. People outlined in the dawn light look very different then they do in the midday sun. If you have the time sit outside and watch the light change on a particular area (under trees is best) or on the water. Even if you can only sneak a couple of five minute breaks during the day, it is a wonderful exercise to see the way that light can change a scene.

The challenge, however, is to write a short scene or story that features light in a significant way. Use it to emphasis something (feelings, clothing, looks) or as part of the actual story. Just mentioning the sun was shining or the light was on in a room is not enough ? the light must play an integral part of the story.


Kithera

Want more challenges? Click here for writer's Challenge three

OR here for Challenge 5

 

Oh cool--I like this.

 

Hmmmm.... An idea rattles about in my head already....

 

I just did long treatises on light in my entries for the Winter Holiday Fanfic Contest (the "Hope for the Holidays" trilogy). However, I'd like to do some more, so expect something from me before too long.

 

Hmm... I've got some ideas. I should be able to come up with something neat.

 

Ok, heres a little something
Ignore the typos as my beta didnt check this over, and I cant spell worth a damn




Jacen Solo sat basking in the warm sunlight of a Yavin afternoon. There were no clouds
this day, and even the grass seemed to glow with light. Jacen go comferatable and begain
to meditate when suddenly he had a force vission. His view went red, but remained bright
and the force whispered something about happiness. Suddenly he snapped out of the vision.
"Friend Jacen, wake up"
Jacen realized that he had been asleep for a long time, as the shadows had gotten long,
but the shadows even seemed bright, as if saying 'I'm just brightness from a differnt point of view'.
Then remembering the voice, he looked up and saw Tenel Ka, the setting sun streaming through
her red hair as she bent over asking "Jaen, are you allright". His vision went red as her hair
filterd the light and he smiled. The force had been right in telling him the source of his happiness.
"I'm fine Tenel Ka, at least I'm not going to miss the sunset"
"The sunset ?"
"Dont you ever watch the sunset ?"
"No"
"Join me today, its setting now"
"very well, friend Jacen"
As they sat, with the light steaking at the same angle as the ground, Jacen/'s vission of light came true, he was happy.

 

Sounds interesting. I'll keep it in mind.

 

I'm still working on challenge 3 since I had a particular pair of characters I wanted to use to do that and yet using only dialog is hard. I (or rather they) keep wanting to slide into internal dialog but I want to force myself not to. To stay only with the spoken word is going to be harder but so good for me that it will be worth it even if I don't post anything until you all are on challenge 6.

Still I read this and a lightbulb went off (heh heh heh) and so I may end up finishing this one first.

Kit thanks so much for coming up with these exercises. They are very useful as well as fun.

KD

 

In the pitch-black recesses beneath the surface of the moon, nothing stirred. Nothing seemed to dare break the darkness or silence. For years, the basement reaches of the planet had remained undisturbed. Now, however, something was coming. The off-beat thump of footsteps began almost as a whisper in the distance, and grew closer. The scraping sound of gloved hands reaching out to the walls for guidance echoed through the halls. Suddenly, a resounding whump sounded, followed by a curse.
"Ow! Owww! I walked into a wall!" said a baritone.
"Where are we, now?" replied a second voice.
"I don't know. How should I know? I can't even see my nose."
"I think we're close. That staircase we just came up felt familiar," voiced the third, a female.
"They're all metal, and they're all narrow, Kesa. Plus we must've climbed twenty of them by now."
"Yes, but one of the steps was squeaky, and I remember there being a squeaky step on the way down. Hey! Hands off, creep!"
"Sorry. I thought there was a wall there."
"That was most certainly not a wall you just grabbed."
"I said sorry. Ow! How'd you know where to hit? Thix, I think Kesa can see me."
"Shh! Keep it down, Janner. Listen. There's echoes. I think we're in a room now."
"Yeah. Yeah! He's right. The walls spread out here."
"Didn't we start in a room like this?"
"Yes, we did. There was a door somewhere."
The sounds of scraping gloves sounded again, as one of the speakers moved along the wall of the room, searching for a doorway.
"I can't find it!"
"You know, if you'd brought more than one glowrod we wouldn't be in this mess right now."
"Oh, so it's all my responsibility?"
"Yes."
"Shut up, Kesa."
"You first, Thix."
"Hey! Both of you! Knock it off!"
Silence fell again. Then, almost timidly:
"Sorry, Kesa."
"Good."
"Hey! You too!"
"Mmph. Alright. Sorry, Thix."
"That's better. Alright, now, how are we going to get out of here? There could be miles of these tunnels. We just going to sit around and wait for a flash of inspiration?"
"Whoa, hey, good idea, Janner. A flash of inspiration just happens to be strapped to my belt."
"...say again?"
"My blaster, good buddy."
A loud whine echoed and a flash of red light lit the room for a split second.
"Did you see anything?"
"All I can see now is a big white blarry bluster belt. A blurry blatter bolt. A blurry blaster bolt!"
"I seem to have paralyzed your brain in the process, Kesa."
"Shut up. It was a blurry-blaster-bolt."
"The flash was too bright. Do it again."
The blaster fired once, twice more.
"I saw it! I saw the door! Over here!"
Muffled footsteps rang out as someone jogged across the room, stopping with a resounding thump.
"Ow! I ran into another wall!"
"Hey, you were right! I feel the door! Help me pull it open!"
With a few grunts and gasps, the door finally squeaked open on ancient rusty hinges. Light spilled into the large, empty room, and the three cavers covered their eyes with a yell.
"Too bright! Too bright!"
"My eyes! Blurry blaster bolts!"
They filed out into the sun, hands over their faces. The sunlight felt warm on their backs. All three were covered in dirt and dust, and rips and small tears dotted their clothing.
"How long do you think we were down there?" asked Thix, voice muffled by his hands.
"I don't know. I can't read my chrono because I'm Sithing blind," said Kesa.
"All I know is, that's the last time I go exploring underneath the temple with you two," said Janner.
"Just another wonderful evening off at Yavin base, Janner."

 

"I don't know. I can't read my chrono because I'm Sithing blind," said Kesa.

My favorite line. Nicely done, -Z-.

 

What?s my favorite memory of the war? Ha! You don?t know what you?re asking. ?Favorite? and ?war? shouldn?t be within the same sentence. What?s that? Yes, son, I am being grumpy and cantankerous in the presence of my grandson. When you?re an old man who has done his part to keep the galaxy safe from tyranny, then you?ll understand. Until then, shut your yap.

Where was I? That?s the problem with age. The memory starts to go. Ah yes, memories of war.

Typical kids. You have too much of your father in you, you know. And in all fairness, he has too much of me in him. Don?t give me that look son, I?m talking to my grandson, and this has nothing to do with you. Well then. You want my ?favorite? memory of the war. I?m tempted to tell you about how your grandmother and I had to hide under some rubble on Coruscant after the Imperials retook it during the Reborn Emperors campaign, but that one you won?t understand until you?re older, and you won?t want to think about it when you understand.

Of course, that resulted in your father, so it wasn?t entirely a good thing.

I?m getting sidetracked again, aren?t I? Well then, my favorite memory. Well then. I would have to say that it was on Endor. You know why Endor was so important during the Great War? No, not because Endor Day was named after it. It was because Endor was important that it got a day named after it. No, it was not because of the Ewoks. I hated those little furballs.

Yes, I?ve met Ewoks. Trust me, they?re not at all like they are on the holos. They?re vicious little things that?ll eat anything. They barbequed the stormtroopers they killed, and tried to share the meat with us. Son, I said don?t give me that look. Believe it or not, they even tried to barbeque Luke Skywalker and Han Solo. All right, don?t believe me. But look it up. It happened. Trust me.

Now, as I was saying, my favorite memory of the war. It was after the forest battle. We?d destroyed the shield generator protecting the Death Star, and Captain Page ? or was he a lieutenant back then? ? had me watching the Imperial prisoners. Well, I think that everyone on the planet felt this shiver go through them, and we all looked up to the sky. There was the Death Star there, with a big gout of flame shooting out its side. We found out later that that was the Executer crashing into it.

And then, it blew. There?s no words to describe how I and the other rebels felt. You look forward to Endor Day every year, but this was the real thing. This was like all the Endor Days you?ve ever had times a billion. There was this big fireball, and red and orange light filled half the sky, then a ring of white light filled the whole sky. Then little pinpoints of light, falling pieces of the Death Star, started to rain down on the world. It was like the tears of a god.

And every single Rebel there gave the biggest shout you ever heard, and the Imperials lost whatever fight they had left to them. It was the end, and they knew. Everyone who saw that light knew that the Emperor and the Empire had just died, and the Jedi had returned.

So, the light over Endor, that?s my favorite memory of the war. Now then, I think your grandmother nearly has supper ready. And that's more important than hearing an old man ramble on, wouldn't you say?

 

It was over. The battle had ended. Neither side appeared to clutch victory. Only dismal loss. A loss of lives, weaponry, beasts of burden and time. All over the Jundland Wastes Jedi and Sith lay. Dead.

Slowly, a wounded Jedi crept past a rock. Blood gushed down his sides. No one, nothing was to be sighted. Everything was mournful, dying slowly, passing away into the blackness of a starless night.

Exhausted, he fell heavily onto the sand, armour clanging as his strained eyes shut. Dark thoughts tortured his mind.

"Would he be one with the Force?"

He opened his eyes again. A Bantha trudged nearby. A Sandcrawler was far off in the distance.

A gentle breeze blew through dust and sand. It brushed against his face, cleansing it from hot sweat. It was the least pity that the warrior could get at that moment. Many Sith had he taken before, but now the evil soldiers had stolen his life. Frail hope was left. Everything was black. The memory of color and of light faded out of thought.

He was loosing blood fast. He coughed up redness, and tried to stagger on the sand. But he failed. And fell.

Just blackness. Deep, and silent.

But as his eyes were closing again, light greeted them.

And from impenetrable shadows, a glimmer of silver formed. Light leapt from it, bright and white. And the dying Jedi saw the Ghost of his Master.

?You have fought bravely. You will be one with the Force."

So the Jedi died with a smile on his face. The glowing light faded, and darkness engulfed the place again.

But white stars shone brightly, pricking the black sky above Tatooine.

 

Well, I doubt this is the nice happy light that you are thinking about it, but here we go anyway.

~Rogue

***

Blind.

That was all he felt as he opened his eyes, immediately shutting them again to block out the intrusive light. It poured in through his eyelids anyway, and they nearly seemed to glow.

He tried opening them again, and once again regretted his efforts as the light bored into his head, striking him with an immediate headache. Cursing to himself, he tried to fling up his hand to cover them, but it would not move from where it was trapped, fastened down to the table.

So that was it. He was to be this creature's plaything.

The light dimmed. "Well, Corran Horn. I trust your eyes are nearly as sensitve as mine."

He glared from behind closed eyelids. "I'll remember that for when we catch you, Isard."

She laughed, that horrible laugh that merely suggested the slightest trace of the evil that she commanded, and it was enough to make even the most hardened soldier quake in his boots.

The light brightened again, and he twisted his head, wincing.

"Very well, Captain Horn. I hope sensory deprivation and your lack of sleep will make you more suitable company in the morning." Her voice became almost lilting. "And if not, we'll keep trying until you are able to be civil."

He could hear the click of her heels as she left the room, and the light brightened until it consumed him.

 

Okay, this is a rather, um, unconventional one, to say the least, but I?ve been toying with idea for a while now, and I think it works.
__________

A Fuzzum Matinee

He showed his ticket to a droid, who recorded his presence and directed him to the stairs that would lead him to the proper seat. A tinny, robotic note played over the speakers, indicating that the performance was about to resume.

He walked up the stairs, finding himself seated, as he requested, at one end of the box, nearer to the stage than the exit, in the front of the three rows. He looked at those in the box with him. There was a Xallaiman couple, who were typically great company at events like this, for they took performances quite seriously. There was another human behind him, as well as a Twi?lek, and a Bothan. What worried him was the row behind that, consisting of two chattering Rodian girls and one annoyed Rodian escort. Hopefully, they would quiet down before the curtain rose.

They were there to see a play, an operetta, one of the dramatic works that few appreciate and even fewer understand, one of the plays that are written for love of both music and theater, but are watched by true artists and pretentious snobs alike. The showcase of the evening was written in Fuzzum, and the lead roles were being played by species-appropriate actors.

It was one of his favorites. Yotu Llana Nos Tolu, ?The Man Who Holds the Stars.?

The lights were dimmed, though it was hard to notice. As the interior of the hall began to dim, light flooded inward from the high, narrow windows. Coruscant offered little in the way of darkness. The traffic buzzed by the building, lights ablaze, reflecting constantly changing patterns of light onto the audience of the concert hall.

The box in which he was sitting detached itself from the wall and floated a short distance to where it would hover for the rest of the evening, four meters over the audience on the floor, and at one end of a triangle-shape formed by the floating boxes, allowing the occupants of each the best view they could offer.

The spotlight came on brightly, from the lighting droid hovering even above the boxes. With the bright beacon of light, the background illumination was suddenly less noticeable; all attention was on the stage.

He watched as the director of the affair waved the actors to come back onto the stage.

Several Fuzzum actors took their places as the curtain rose, and the spotlight shone down brightly upon them. The one who wore the royal garments had been betrayed, cast out, and was now marching away to exile.

Watching from the box, he could not help but smile. The Fuzzum who had taken authority smiled the same way. As he held up his hands, the lighting droid generated tiny beacons of light all over the hall, supposed pinpricks of starlight. The character had taken the dominion that he had been there to see all along. He had finally harnessed what could, and what should, have been his years ago. He now was the man who held the stars, and the bright beams of light that extended from the hilts of his swordsmen were now extended in fealty to him.

The spectator, however, knew how it would end. The Fuzzum would do away with his swordsmen, and kill them, thinking them a threat to himself. It is as they say: power corrupts; absolute power corrupts absolutely. He could not help thinking what he would do in the Fuzzum?s place.

As the spotlights shone down, it seemed the story of the Fuzzum was the only reality there was, and the spectator found himself drawn in completely.

And then, the spotlight died.

In the total darkness, he remembered getting there in the afternoon, ready to see the show, worried that it wouldn?t let out until too late in the evening, wondering if he could make his transport offworld. Coruscant was no place to be right now; he needed to return to his homeworld. There were events on which he could capitalize.

But his thoughts were interrupted. The spotlight came back on the Fuzzum king-in-exile.

The story captured his i

 

Thought this up right before I went to class, and then finished it after class. I used some characters of mine from the fic in progress that I'm writing out longhand. Go at it.
_______________________________________________________
More to It

Light. You don't miss it until it's gone. Especially if it's gone forever--or even for a little while, like for me.

I miss watching motes of dust float down to the floor in the bright morning sun. I miss watching sunlight sparkle off of the lake outside my window. I miss watching a cat curl up on the rug and soak in the light. All I see now is darkness--and night.

I have too much time to think, and to listen. I listen to the rain fall outside and ache inside remembering a rainbow, which is, of course, just light refracted through the drops of water. I ache to realize that someone out there can see it--can see the light--and that I cannot.

Listening to the birds in the morning has greatly increased my feelings of despondency and despair, for I do not see the birds whose songs lift my spirits. I cannot see. This makes me feel as if I cannot feel a thing--not the warmth of the sun on my skin, nor the tidbits of light that filter through my bandages.

And of course, there are other kinds of light. Painful light that shoots like lightning and burns the insides. I can still remember it--how it arched and danced with the wiggling of his fingers, how it ricocheted off that mirror and into me. He laughed. Oh, how he laughed. It seemed to match the intensity of the light. That's all I saw, all I could see. Coursing down through my body after entering through one eye--it hurts to remember, it hurts to remember that light.

Master had come to save me--he's done that many times in the past two years--and I failed. I had run as fast as my weakened legs could carry me, but I could not escape that light, and now I cannot reach the light that I wish I could escape to.

But, then, perhaps this is the real way to see the light--or maybe it's the way we who have no sight see it. It's in stark contrast to the pure and warm light we see and ungratefully ignore--no, it's filtered, but not less pure, not less warm, just different. Its presence is different--it feels more tangible, more alive. You become more aware of what was there when you were of those who see. Maybe when I rejoin the world of sight, I will remember this world of shadow and light that I now inhabit. Maybe I will remember to savor the light--its warmth, its strength, its purity--and use that knowledge to find the light and show it to others.

Maybe there's more to eyesight than meets the eye.
Maybe there's more to sight than seeing.
Maybe there's more to life than existing.
_______________________________________________

 

Okay, I'll take a stab at this challenge...shouldn't be too difficult. Tell me what you all think eh? I like feedback.

---

[blockquote]The first thing I noticed when I awoke from the slumber my captors had forced upon me was the darkness. It was not just any darkness like a shadow or a room without light or the nightsky without a bright moon, no this was pitch blackness. A very unpleasant feeling rose through my throat from deep down in the bowels of my stomach, as my brain registered the possibility of the stun blast causing me to go blind. After all, the way a stun bolt worked was to overload your nervous system with intense pain so severe that you lose consciousness. There had been rumors of stun blasts causing blindness before, damaging the part of the brain that registered sight, but no significant cases had risen to outlaw the use of stunning technology.

So the thought left me frightned and I tried to fight back the bile that was rising in my throat. The thought of never seeing again because my captors were too careless in my apprehension left a void in my soul. I knew I would never get to command a regiment of Imperial Walkers again or a division of stormtroopers. I knew I would never get to see the bright blue and purple mottled sky of hyperspace from the bridge of a Star Destroyer or see the warm brightness that gave life to countless worlds across the galaxy.

"He's awake." I heard one of my captors speak and felt myself be lifted from my prone form on the floor of...I guess some kind of transport. I couldn't see to tell me where I was, all I had left to me were my other senses to tell me my surroundings. I listened carefully as I was escorted at gunpoint, the gun barrel pressing into my back sharply, for any familiar noises.

I heard a sharp hiss and the sound of hydralics working, as something began to open in front of us. That is when I noticed the darkness suddenly brighten to a very dim light. I knew then and there that I had not lost my eyesight to the incompetance of my captors. I tilted and turned my head to the side and observed as the dim light moved across whatever was covering my eyes.

How could I have been so stupid to not recognize a blind fold over my eyes?

My captors prodded me forward toward the tunnel of light that soothed my nerves and reassured me that I had not been blinded. The blindfold became a lighter shade and I could barely make out shapes and that was only when the object was near me. Like the two armored men that marched in front of me. I felt the blaster rifle in my back again and a mechanical voice urging me to walk faster. I did as he ordered, not wanting to be at the receiving end of a brutile beating I knew these soldiers occasionally gave when a prisoner angered them enough. I had stopped such beatings before in the past and punished those who I caught for their cruelty.

I picked up my pace, as I listened and strained to see through the fabric of my blindfold. I could not fathom why my captors thought blindfolding me would prevent me from recognizing my surroundings. Even through the fabric I could make out the occasional shapes and shadows of other stormtrooprs, Imperial officers and the fact that we were on either a corvette or a Star Destroyer. Maybe they just did not want me recognizing any of the officers that passed us.

Whatever the reason, they did not wait to remove my blindfold until we reached our destination. The stormtroopers escorted me into a darkened chamber, this I knew when the light of the corridor faded and disappeared altogether as the door behind us slid shut. The pitch blackness of the blindfold and the chamber combined nearly left me claustrophobic. I willed myself not to panic in front of these soldiers that I probably had once commanded in one of my many campaigns across the galaxy.

The darkness did not last long, another door slid open in front of us and a dim light inside brightened the fabric of my blindfold enough so that I could now make out only shadows. It was obvious to me that the lighting of the room was not very br

 

Not bad, I like the description of Veers' son. Interesting idea.

Here's my attempt, it's not very long:

The light, it's the first thing you notice about the place.

As soon as you walk in, you can see long windows set high into the walls, through which sunlight slants down to rest in pools on the floor. The windows are set in such a way so that there is one long radiant corridor of light, and it's beautiful. Jedi move in between the shafts, silent ghosts on buisness of their own. I always feel out of place here, like some mortal spying on heavenly affairs. I grew up on a mining colony you see, and until I was fifteen my world was the dark, poorly-lit tunnels of Krait colony. So, to see something like this, even if it is every day of your life, is mind-blowing.

 

Mine is comming! My beloved beta is beating it up as we speak...

 

I know this is short, but you did mention a scene. Anyways, I'm new to the writer's resource forum, so don't go too rough on me.

"Look at the sun, Ben. Look at the light."

The young Skywalker bent his tiny head upward, somehow understanding what his Father was saying. He smiled, the light of the Yavin sun illuminating his pupils. The child giggled and clapped excitedly.

"The light is a joy, son. Value it. Don't let it go. You will face places where there seems to be no light at all, but keep hope, Ben. Keep the light. You have the light of the Force, Ben. Nothing can take that from you."

The baby's face turned solemn, further displaying his precocious understanding of words. Though the child could not yet speak, Luke Skywalker was sure that with the Force, his son would begin to speak soon. It was only a matter of time before Ben was able to speak, and to walk. It seemed like less than an hour ago that Luke had cradled the newborn Ben Skywalker in his arms, rejoicing joyously next to Mara. Even then, the light of the sun had illuminated the child's face.

The child crawled through the corridors of the Great Temple, making his way towards the enterance. Luke followed, watching over the baby. He laughed as Ben stumbled slightly, struggling to make his way to the door, where rich light spilled in and onto the floor.

Luke stopped at the door, but the baby did not. He crawled down the stairs and onto the grass that grew tall around the Temple. He laid back, exhausted from his effort, and relaxed. Luke chuckled and laid down beside him, looking up in the sky. Ben reached up his hand and pointed to the sun.

"Daddy," his first word came out, "Light."

Luke's eyes lit up with happiness. He cuddled the baby's head and hugged him in tight to his chest. He looked into the baby's eyes.

"You are my light, son. You always will be."

The Yavin sun stood clear in the cloudless sky, bathing the Skywalkers in a sea of bright light.

 

Here's mine. It's in an AU where Anakin never turns, and takes place around the time of Episode III.

*****

Anakin had wondered why Obi-Wan and Sabe had chosen an evening hour for their wedding, but now he understood. The decor of the large sanctuary of the small-town chapel in Naboo?s Mountain Country was beautiful. The floor was covered with rich red carpet, shiny dark polished wooden pews lined the aisles. The entire sanctuary was in total darkness except for the front, where the pulpit stood. The front was lit entirely with candles, their flames casting warm, soft light through the rest of the chapel.

Anakin and Obi-Wan walked down the aisle towards the light, where the Holy Man stood to greet them. From the pews, the wedding guests?Jedi Knights and Masters, residents of the Royal Palace of Theed where Sabe had served as a handmaiden, residents of the Mountain Country where Sabe had grown up?turned to smile upon the bridegroom and his best man.

They reached the altar, exchanged smiles with the Holy Man, and then turned to face the congregation. The bridesmaids were starting to walk up the aisle, their faces at first obscured by the darkness, then revealed as the soft light of the candles illuminated them?Sabe?s sisters Yanne and Larre, then Anakin?s wife Padmé, the matron of honor.

Then the music changed its rhythm and the bride, Sabe Martarre, began her slow walk up the aisle on her father?s arm. Her dress was of ivory satin and lace, with a square neckline and billowing sleeves, a full skirt and a short train. Her veil obscured her face, but even so, when she stepped into the light, the flames reflected the tears that sparkled in her eyes.

As they reached the altar, the Holy Man began with, ?Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony, which is an honorable estate, regarded by the will of the Force and the government of the Galactic Republic and the planet of Naboo. Who presents this woman to be joined with this man??

?Her mother and I,? replied Donte Martarre, lifting his daughter?s veil and kissing her cheek, then placing her hand into that of Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan and Sabe turned to face each other as the Holy Man began his recitations. ?Do you, Sabe, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? Will you love him, honor him, comfort and keep him, and forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live??

?I will,? she replied. Her voice was even and steady, but the candlelight shone on the two tears that fell down her cheeks. Obi-Wan dropped all protocol for a moment, letting go of one of her hands in order to brush away those tears with his thumb.

?Do you, Obi-Wan, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? Will you love her, honor her, comfort and keep her, and forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live??

?I will,? he replied, retaking Sabe?s hand in his own and squeezing tightly.

?The rings, please,? the Holy Man said. Anakin reached inside his suit pocket and took out a tiny band of precious metal, which Sabe would soon wear, and handed it to the clergyman. At the same time, Padmé took Obi-Wan?s band from her first finger, where she was wearing it, and did the same.

The Holy Man handed Sabe?s band, which sparkled in the light, to Obi-Wan, and instructed him to repeat his vows. ?Sabe, I give you this ring as a token of my love and a symbol of my intention to live with you in love and respect. Just as this ring has no end, neither shall my love for you.? He slid the ring on the third finger of her left hand, on top of the precious solitaire engagement ring that he had given her six months earlier.

Sabe then took Obi-Wan?s band and recited her vows. ?Obi-Wan, I give you this ring as a token of my love and a symbol of my intention to live with you in love and respect. Just as this ring has no end, neither shall my love for you.? She slid the large band on Obi-Wan?s left ring finger.

The clergyman made the Naboo symbol of luck and love in t

 

The Thin Blue Line -- A Drabble


A meter of pure, incandescent green, at least at first glance.

Obi-Wan's face was close enough to feel the saber's radiant heat. "You're right, Anakin," he said. "Just along the center is a thin blue line. How did you do that?"

Anakin reached for the weapon, saying, "It's a secret," but Obi-Wan waved him back and leaned even closer.

"Anakin," he said, ignoring his smoldering eyebrows, "this isn't a line."

"Master, I..."

"I'm impressed, apprentice. Your third time, and you've managed to construct a weapon with a tiny scrolling text saying, 'Made by Jedi Jack's Custom Lightsabers' in the blade."

 

All right, my beta has beaten it....

First Blossom time, Correllia.



Schurke Canaille, former Jedi Knight turned Corellian Magistrate, walked out onto the balcony of his home. His wife, Kampher, lay sleeping peacefully in their bed having given birth to their daughter only a few hours before. Peacefully...

In a galaxy still torn asunder by warfare, Shurke wondered, and not for the first time, whether his daughter would ever truly know what peace meant.

As he looked out to the stars, the prospect, the reality of fatherhood drew his thoughts back to his old way of life.

Although Correllia had tried to distance itself from the core Republic?s political doings, news and gossip still filtered down. The Jedi, once widely regarded as the peace keepers of the Galaxy, were slowly falling out of favor. The Senate was falling into shambles, torn asunder by scandal and divided loyalties. One of the major uproars, a relative tempest in a teapot under normal circumstances, was the revelation that the unmarried Senator from Naboo, Padmé Amidala, was pregnant. However, what made it scandalous, an offense so to speak, was the rumor that the father was a Jedi. Not just any Jedi, but the golden child himself, Anakin Skywalker.


Both Schurke and Kampher had known of Anakin?s involvement with the Senator from Naboo, but since they had parted ways (months? It seemed like a lifetime ago...) they had heard very little from Anakin. It saddened Shurke a little. They had spent so many years together as Padawans. Anakin?Kam?And Gris? Gris, lost to them not in the war itself, but to her own battle against the darkness within. A battle much like the one that Anakin always had seemed to be fighting within himself?

Schurke considered himself blessed. He had spent the better part of his time in the Order trying to fill a void. Like Anakin, he was always had sought approval and acceptance in an Order that demanded detachment, and like Anakin, he had fallen in love. However, unlike Anakin, he had been able to follow his heart completely, with the love of his life by his side after all?

?Schurke?? A soft voice came from behind him, interrupting his reverie. . ?It?s almost time isn?t it? It?s nearly daylight.?


Kam quietly had wandered up next to him with their infant girl snuggled comfortably against her breast. Schurke turned to his wife and smiled. Anakin was part of the old life... the Jedi life that he and Kampher had turned their backs on with little, if any regret. Perhaps someday, Anakin himself would understand that some things were worth letting go of?

The first threads of daylight began creeping over the horizon as first Kampher, and then Schurke touched their new daughter?s head to their hearts and kissed her forehead.. Schurke carefully took the little girl out of her wrappings. She squirmed in the chill of the morning air, but didn?t fuss, soothed by the presence of her loving guardians. .She had a shock of black hair and dark eyes and such light skin?she looked so tiny in his large hands! So tiny and yet so? momentous.

At last, as the sun finally rose, and Schurke raised their child to the dawn, presenting her to the light? to the Force.

?Aubé...? Schurke?s voice was soft, but it was an announcement of her name to the heavens.

 

Okay, here is my entry :

(The first time I actually join such a challenge. )

Note : it has grown far longer than I had expected - if it's too long, I'll edit my post and instead insert a link here, because I'll post my story in the SAGA area as well.

Alrik.



The Light

Jedi Shaak Ti went into the Underground. Into the dark passages of the areas beneath the surface of Coruscant which were known as The Shadows.

With her went a human, about her size (not counting her horns), carrying some devices attached to his belts and held in some bags which were attached to his belts, too. One of them was a life-form scanner.

They moved in a way one could assume they had been working like a team before.

They were searching for something.

Going down a long, wide and broad flight of steps, with numerous paintings - some dull, some more eccentric, some mere signs, other carefully made as pictures, some glowing, some not, some even only visible in the infrared area, above other paintings and signs, they heard the shuffling, squeaking, sniffing, murmuring of different unseen animals. Even people lived here, people who were used to the absence of sunlight and were adopted to living in such tunnels and halls. Elom, for example.

The task was to retrieve something. A Wookiee senator had reported the loss of a small ferry - the investigations assumed that it might have crashed somewhere in this area. Surprisingly (or not, depending on the view), this wasn?t the only ferry which had crashed here : Investigations of Republic Guards had shown that another ferry which was thought to be part of a crime cartel had crashed here days before, too.

They went into the underground, leaving the daylights behind.

?Do you feel anything ?? the man asked Ti. ?No, not here. But far ahead?. ?I think I should put on my glasses.? the man replied. ?Yes, do so. But keep them off as long as you can manage. They need a lot of energy we simply cannot afford. Remember, Energy of any kind might lead us to some unwanted predators.? ?Okay.? the man replied without a change of his face or his tone. He rummaged in one of his numerous bags, then drew his ?glasses? as he called them out of it. They were a device enabling humans to use the infrared area and the ultraviolet area of the light, if needed. This device used a lot of energy, so it couldn?t be used all of the time.

The dripping of water filled the next hallway. It came from above (naturally), but what actually was there, above of them, couldn?t be said. A factory ? A water basin ? A part of the sewers ? They didn?t know.
What they knew was that it attracted many, many slimy slugs, which were feeding on the moss-like things that were growing there.

A spiral of stairs even led further into the depth, into the darkness.
The exit of this spiral was just another passage, a passage without light, apart from some glowing fungus.

Shaak Ti stopped. The human behind her moved close to her. ? I can feel it now.? she said. ?They are not far away.?
?How far away ?? the human asked. ?Well ... difficult to estimate. Something between a mile or two. But something else is even closer by. I don?t know what it is.? ?That?s enough. I?ll turn the glasses on.? He said.

Looking through the thing, he noticed that the passage they were in ended not very far ahead ... but the exit looked somewhat strange. Something was different there. He turned the ?thing? off.

?There?s something weird over there - the exit doesn?t look like ?normal? ? he whispered to the female Jedi.
?Okay, let?s approach it, then.? she said.

Slowly they stepped nearer, while Shaak Ti felt the presence of a life-form coming nearer and nearer as they went forwards.

The exit of the hallway was partly barred. Something big was there.

- ENTRY BEGINNING-
We reached something that looked like a very crude made ?door?. It consisted of several materials. We stepped out - and came into an enormous hall. Few light was there, but what we could see, was the wreckage of a small ferry lying in this gigantic hall.

 

hmmm interesting Challange... I think I'll have a go at it.

The characters and the world are of my own twisted imagination.


Natea slipped into the hidden garden at the heart of the palace. Since becoming Queen of Zetram, she'd rarely had time for herself. But today was the day of last frost. Today the first flowers would begin to bloom. Padding along the cold stones set at intervals as a path, she headed to her favorite spot, to await the rising sun. From previous years, she knew that there, the golden highlights of the sun would turn the myriad of colors in the garden to a golden mass of flowers. Turning the garden into a magical place for a few instants.

To the east the sun already peaked over the horizon. Soon it would be high enough to reach over the palace walls, into her hidden sanctuary. Settling down on the mossy ground, she leaned back against a smooth black stone, with age old inscpriptions. No one knew what they meant. They had been on Zetram since before humans first invaded, even the Zetrami knew not what they meant. But the rumors around the stone gave it magical qualities. The force only knew what the truth was.

Suddenly, the sun reached the palace wall and the garden was plunged into a dizzling display of reds, golds, oranges, purples, and many more colors, and shades of colors. One single ray hit the writing on the rock, making the symbols glow softly.

Linger not on the past, my apprentice Natea jumped, as in the growing light of the morning sun she could see her dead master, killed by her own hand.

"Master!" her voice chocked and she broke down crying. "What have I done?"

You were a foolish child. But the past cannot be changed. Only the future. Follow the light... The figure faded out slowly as the light grew brighter.

"Master, please fogive me."

I already have With tears running from her eyes, Natea curled up on the moss of the garden ground. She couldn't enjoy the light show any more.

 

Great job Chandrilla. Good emotion and description.