Hi Everyone! Iv'e read fanfiction for a loooooong time, and had an account to save stories and stuff on, but I've never written anything very long or posted any that I have written. My Best friend, who got me addicted to this site (lol) is a succesful writer with a published book and told me to get over my insecurities and post something. And here it is.
This story is cannon up to ROTS, after that it takes a wild jerk into AUniverse.
Please read and reveiw! -Love, Icecube Toes ;)
It was a beautiful day outside.
Correction. It was a beautiful day for Corusant, which consisted of sunshine and a brisk breeze to aleviate the heat we'd been having all season.
Ah well, you cant get everything you want in terms of weather on a planet practically made of duracrete...but still...maybe a shrub or two gentlebeings?
But I digress. (I do that often, to my shame. My mind tends to ramble when I'm bored.)
Anyway, it was nice outside, the perfect day to go on a run through the mid-levels, spar with Kyp and Corran, or even better...go test out the new modifications Dad helped me put on the Red Star, my snub-fighter. However, I , Luke Skywalker, Padawan to Jedi master Obi-wan Kenobi, am stuck inside and slowly going stir-crazy. Actually, I'm supposed to be meditating with my class after Galactic History, but...unfortunately my skills are sadly lacking in that area.
Presently I am tracking a fly that is traped in Master Kit Fisto's 'fresher a floor below us and has been trying every nook and cranny in the room to get outside... I wonder how long it will take to try the ventelation shaft. I am also aware of the students around me and Master Yoda, all deep in meditation. I wish could meditate better...I usually need to be by myself for an hour or so to start meditating, which can be a problem when your short on time, like in battle situations. I used to really, really worried about it, untill Master Kenobi told me that my Dad wasn't very good at it either when he was a padawan...I guess its a genetic thing, kinda like my disturbingly high midi count.
Force, I almost wish I was not Force-Sensitive sometimes...I hardly fit in anywhere.
Some people here at the Temple hate me. I guess it's because of my Father, (he really shook things up around here with the attachment mandates and coming back from the Dark Side, not to mention the whole Chosen One Prophecy!) or because of my twice-cursed midi-clorian count, which means I usually beat them at something. Even then, thats almost better than the ones that expect you to excell at everything...If It wasn't for Kyp Vos and my twin sister Leia, I don't think I would have any friends my own age.
I think I just jumped a foot off my mat from a sitting position.
Master Yoda is staring at me dissaprovingly. I look around, embarrassed, to realize that his deafening shout must have been a mental one, because no one else has stirred. I blink at him.
Master Yoda frowns and taps his gimmer stick on the marble floor, continuing sternly; "If meditate you never do, The Unifying Force you will not hear, padawan. Most important this is."
He coughs and turns away...then suddenly turns back toward me, with a twinkle in his wise, golden-green eyes. "Gone into the vent, the fly has. Free it is."
Soooooo...first chapter is up! Don't worry, it will get more exciting in a few chapters...Tell me what you think! I need encouragement, even a little. This is so nerve-wracking. :P