JediKaren

Yes thank you! this is a story, a fun one. I'm not getting this publish. I don't give a care about passive voice or whatever. Just enjoy the story. Otherwise I see no point in me posting this. Warning: The first part of this chapter may induce a feeling of peace and sleepiness. Read at your own risk. Ch 14 Snow was a rare thing to the children of the temple. The weather around the great city was controlled for the most part. There were four seasons, a warm, a hottish, a coolish, and a down right cold season. For Sarafire, it was a down right, way too cold day. And it was snowing. When it did snow, it didn't snow that much, but it seemed to be plenty for Sarafire. She loved to sit at some window and watch the snow for hours, only most of the time she couldn't do that because of classes. Today was different. She had no classes and no where she had to be. She had woken up that morning with no orders about what she was to do or where to go. So when she walked out of her room and looked out a window, expecting to see another cold morning, she was given a pleasant shock. She took some time to look at the snow and found it took great effort to tear her eyes away from the pretty sight and go to the dinning hall for some food. It didn't help that she saw small children dancing outside in one of the small, outside gardens. She used to do that, but now that she was older, it was looked down on. Also, she bitterly told herself, it was freezing cold. Yet, her longing heart wanted to be with the snow and not getting food. She quickly ate her small morning meal and hurried to her favorite window. The window was located in a lonely side hallway. Almost no Jedi were ever seen there and it had no use to children, except to hide in a game of hide and seek. She claimed it to be her hallway and there many days were she hid there, completely alone and forgotten. The way she liked it. The window in this hallway was a large, tall one with a ledge inside that made a perfect window seat. She would curl up in the seat and stare outside, pondering her miserable existent. Today she hurried from the dinning hall to her window. It was still snowing and thickening. She curled up on the seat, tucking her thin legs against her chest and squirmed a bit to get comfortable. She leaned her head against the cold, thick glass window, and started to stare. The snow was beautiful to her. It was so much different from rain. Rain always depressed her. Rain was wet, grey, dark, and cold. She found no joy in rain, just depression. Snow was different. Snow was a pristine white. Each flake was different. Each one was a work of art. The snow was silent and fell in a mesmerizing fashion. Snow made the world looked different, painting everything with a coat of white. Snow made everything look new and innocent from the harsh reality of the city. Snow even made the old young and the young younger. She noticed after a time that she was calm and quiet. Her mind was blank and open. She found the state strange, like a meditation. But was this meditation? It did not seem like the meditation the Jedi had taught her. This was different, in a good way. She felt like she could do this forever. ”œPretty is it?”

Yep I posted it there first. Glad you liked it.

Ch 8 Tem I jumped up on Mom's bed and told her to get up. Mom groaned. I jumped some more on her bed. Mom doesn't like to get up. I told her I was hungry. She groaned again and lifted her head. ”œOk my little and very loud alarm clock. I'm up. Stop jumping on the bed or you'll break it.”

oh god....I'm surrounded by english majors. Not good.

or he was that whiny

There was really no meaning in it, except for the warning that a storm is come, a storm is there, and the storm has left. It really was just suppose to be a little scene of nature.

You all are welcomed. Here is part two: Part Two Obi Wan looked as he heard the door slid open. A young, blond hair boy with pale skin and a less than happy, slightly green face came in. The boy rushed to the near by bathroom and only after long minutes passed, did he come out, sweaty and sick looking. ”œSo, how did it go?”

Ch 13 She worked on the garden for a full hour before he came. She dug up the weeds around her little garden and around the bigger garden. She had loosened the dirt in the beds, allowing the plants more freedom to grow in the loose dirt. She even checked all the plants to make sure they were healthy and they were. She had just finished watering the plants when he slowly walked in. He made his way through the garden, inspecting her work. He made no sound or sign of how he felt about her work. Sarafire nervously fingered her nearly healed wrist. She stopped when she realized this. Her anger had died out a while ago and now it felt that fear was taking its place. She found herself worrying over her work and if he approved of her own little garden. She was attached to the little bit of land he had given her and there was pride to be found in her plants. Finally, he completed his circuit and sat down on the bench. He patted the stonework, inviting her to join him. She shook her head, too jumpy to sit still. Instead, she stared at the dirt covered floor, trying to resist the urge to touch her wrist again. All she wanted was an answer to her burning question. ”œHow is it?”

I'm going to ask that you don't comment on the grammar. These chapter have been edited and I get a daily lecture about grammar from my editor. I don't need another one. If you have negative comments about the actual material, fair enough. Although I should warn you, I've written many chapters ahead and I'm not changing the story.

Dude, it's a story. Stop going grammar crazy on me. This isn't the publishing company. Just enjoy the story.

Ch 7 Karen I was not original for the Force crime program. When Master Skywalker explained the situation and idea, I shrank away from the idea of us dealing with criminals. We, the good guys, already had enough to deal with. The dark side was always there, always testing us. Criminals, I argued fiercely, are not easily dealt with and would be most prone to the darkside. They were already breaking the rules of society and did not have a good sense of right and wrong. If we trained them, we ran a high risk of them turning to the dark side. This was not a risk we needed to concern ourselves with. There were too many other good souls who were Force sensitive and wanted to become Jedi. Master Skywalker smiled patiently at me in front of all the other present and countered my points. His argument went along these lines: The Jedi were created to protect the peace and fight for justice. As Jedi, we were to gain the trust of the public, but this had proven hard at first when the Jedi were starting to form. The public feared us because we did not have the rules and ideas about our conduct as we had today. Some Jedi went dark, turning to a life of crime, terror, and control. Some youths who were Force sensitive were not taught to hide their powers and either were feared or hated. As the Jedi organized themselves, they realized it was their job to look out for these troubled youths and to take them under their wing. Over time, meaning over hundreds of years, the Jedi grew into what they were most famous for. The public did not only trust them, but look up to them as heros, champions of good and evil. A time when sith ran amuck was no longer and wars were few and far between. But all good times can not last forever and the sith came again, bringing the clone wars and then the empire. The Jedi had become elite, egotist, and relaxed in their ways. They only took the best and at a very young age, leaving the rest to fend for themselves. They could afford such practices in a time when the galaxy did not need an army of Jedi. Their selective practices and their arrogant thinking lead to their downfall. Now a new order was starting. Rules had to be discovered, tested, and thought about. The old order could no longer be followed blindly. We could not follow a path that brought down such a group. So Master Skywalker and others were forced to look at what the old order did right and wrong and decide what to copy and what to change. He looked at the old and few records that had managed to survive and saw that there was once a time the Jedi took teenagers and those who were in trouble with the law. Master Skywalker argued that these youths were our responsibility. It was our mandate that we must take them in and show them a better path. These young criminals were our sisters and brothers in the Force and to ignore them would be a greater crime than what they did. If we let them run wild, without knowledge of what they are doing is wrong, then we would be supporting the dark side and would fail the order and all the Jedi stood for. It was true we could not and would not be expected to turn all of the teens to a better life, but we must try. We owe them and the galaxy that much. Master Skywalker's argument was so passionate and well thought out, that I found myself agreeing with him. I had not thought about the old order and how they dealt with this problem. Yet, the more I thought about what I knew, the more I realized they really had brought their own end. We may not be any better than them, but perhaps we could avoid some of their mistakes. It took weeks for us to developed a plan that would promise success with these youths. We had to gather a team of Jedi who would volunteer in this program. We had to study criminal behavior and teens to learn how to predict their minds and actions. We had to tailor our teachings so they could grasp and understand them with their limited education. Finally, we had to make the temple a place they would be happy and at peace. When we were done, we went to the senate with our preparation and asked them to approve our program. Since most of our funding came from the government and this program would require more supplies, we had to inform them of our plan. It took several days of talking and negotiating with them, but in the end we got the approval we seeked. We very much owed our success to Nea, who worked and bullied the senate behind closed doors and covered cameras. Dilela was our twentieth student in the program. We had a rule that we only took two students at the most at once. We had this rule because one student was quite a task to take on and two pushed us to our limit. At the end of three months, if they had shown improvement, we started looking through our list for students to interview. We went through a long and tedious process to find the best students we thought would make it through. We would narrow our list to two or three and then come to the planet were they were in jail. We tested them for their Force sensitive and how strong they were. We showed them what the Force was and what they could become if they worked with us. If they were eager, we went into more detail. If they resisted us, we explained to them what would happen if they continued down the path they were set on. We told them that should they accept our deal, their record would be wiped clean after they got through three months. That would get a grudging ok from them. Finally we picked one or two of our choices, promising the third that they would be out of jail soon. Dilela was one of those who was not excited about coming, but decided the training could not be worse than jail. I was not able to interview here as my son was sick with a cold and then got me sick. Yet, when I heard of her and her history, I knew there was a chance with her. She pierced my heart in a way I could not explain and I felt the compelling need to teach her, no matter how stubborn she tried to be. Indeed, she was stubborn and sulky. She hardly ate her dinner. I tried to lighten her up and get her talking, but she clamed up and spent the rest of the meal, silently glaring at me. I then took her to her room and made sure she was comfortable. I also made sure the door was locked from the outside and that she could not try to escape. A few of the students tried that in their first week here. They were not willing to give us a chance at first. It took a lot of time and attention to convince them otherwise. When I felt she would be ok for the night, I went back to my apartment. Mirmo was sitting in the living room, reading a data pad. By the silence of the rooms, I knew my son was asleep and tip toed to his room. I opened the door as quietly as I could and looked in. He was curled up into a ball with the blankets half on him. I sneaked in and pulled the blanket more on him. He sighed and turned over. I fought the urge to kiss him and went back into the living room. I asked about my son's day and his lesson. I received a good report and made a note to give my son a toy the next day that he had been bothering me about for months. I asked about what story was told. Mirmo was always coming up with new stories and my son loved them. Tonight, Mirmo went to a true story, one I could not help but laugh at. It was about the epic squirt gun fight done through astral projection with none other than Master Yoda. It was an ongoing fight that was left and picked up on random times. I never could win and at best, tie. Mirmo found the story extremely amusing, as did Master Skywalker. I asked if Mirmo said who was the ”œ little Jedi”

So in my boost of creative writing, I thought up this little gem. I hope you like it. Notes: Strangely enough, without connection to this story, my father is making a very evil stew. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Part 1 Obi Wan groaned. ”œOh Anakin, how could you?”

wow I am really behind on this story. Ok, time to get posting Ch 12 Sarafire wasn't given much time to ponder the meaning of the old Jedi's meaning before the door slid open and Partin was allowed back in. Partin had a face of suspicion and displeasure, as if she was not at all happy that Sarafire was still here. Sarafire herself was not particularly happy to see the other girl. Both knew that they were being watched carefully and manners were expected. So both held back rude comments and hid as best they could their emotions. At least, that is what Sarafire hoped. ”œFight each other you will, but obey the rules this time.”

A sharp cry can be heard as the dark bird flies over. Black, a deep and meaningful black, are of the colors of death's prey. Flying slowly, singing its sad song, the air fills with its words. Death is upon the land. Silent falls and the land is still, for the tension has grown. Dark clouds roll from the corners of the world. Thunder, loud and low, rumbles the land's sobs. Drop by drop, the sky cries out in pain, weeping in sorrow. Powerful and overwhelming, the land shakes, the trees sway and the leaves fall. The animals scamper, with the deer running and the rabbits hiding. Little ones huddle under the safety of their watchful mothers. The rain now pours endlessly. The sky a near black hue. Lighting strikes , barely missing the trees and a fire is avoid. Time goes on, the night passes. The rain calms and is halted to a stop. The land is wet, too wet for all to bear. The land mourns its loses. So time goes on and the ground dries. The damage is healed and the animals shake no more. The grass greens and the trees bloom again. A lone bird ventures out and sings once more.

yeah I'm on a roll. Eventually I'll get this perfect. So far, I'm just trying to get into the swing of writing this way. Hope you all enjoy it: Where the sky meets the earth and the sun and moon share an open sky starts the beginning of hope and a new day. Blades of grass, green and strong, grow tall among the trees. The trees are old and sturdy, for nothing has beaten them, nothing has challenged them. A breeze of life swirls around the wide spaces, turning the ears of all, to a point. A golden ray bursts on a drop of water, upon a fallen leaf. A dazzle of blinding sparks cause split second rainbows to glow secret colors. And soon comes a small, furred creature, peeking from a hidden hole. His nose twitches, his body grows still and all falls silent. No noise can be heard, as life continues its soundless path. No human calls or thoughts or emotions disturb this land. No hunter to fear. No death to mourn. Peace takes over and harmony drives this place. Time is endless. A bird, bright with long features, lands on a nearby branch. Her eyes are inquisitive, black and thoughtful, for she is a mother of two. She tilts her head and watches the river carry a branch from a fallen log. Finally, the silence is broken. First a twirl, followed by a rustle, and not soon after, both the bird and animal have left to return to their home. The wind still blows, the sun still shines, and the land is still green. Only the moon and the sun have changed.