Actor, Writer, Jedi, Singer,

Actor, Writer, Jedi, Singer,
You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you

Saturday, February 26, 2011

The Dark Side: A short fan fiction about Obi-Wan Kenobi

Here is a fan fiction I wrote awhile back about my favorite Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi.
It takes place during the Episode 3: The Revenge of the Sith, which is my favorite of the Star Wars films(which are my favorite movies). I edited the story a little before posting, but its pretty close to the original that I first wrote. I will write more later and when I do, I'll post them on here. Hope you enjoy my story. :)

The Dark Side

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Wars. The story, the characters and the events all belong to George Lucas.

This is the end of Revenge of the Sith through Obi-Wan's eyes.
(Qui-Gon "Promise me you'll train the boy."

Obi-Wan "Yes Master.")

(Anakin "Good Bye Master and may the Force be with you.")

Though the morning air was warm, Obi-Wan's insides were ice cold.

Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Master, legendary warrior and negotiator quietly made his way down a boulevard on the Senatorial sector on Coruscant, the cold breeze blowing through his cloak.

Obi-Wan lifted his face to the hazy blue sky, ships crisscrossed overhead, flitting through the sky lanes like a thousand swarming insects. The ships overhead made him think of his apprentice Anakin, who had loved piloting. Obi-Wan quickly looked away.

'Don't let your emotions overpower you. Don't let them become your master,' a voice spoke in his mind, trying to cut through his anguished thoughts.

Obi-Wan shook his head, not ready to push aside his grief. 'Not yet,' he told himself firmly as he approached his destination. The building was a glowing silver, shinning against the light blue sky like a beacon bringing him home. Except he wasn't going home. His home was gone, a burned, broken shell filled with the dead.

Obi-Wan lowered his cowl, revealing a sad, lined face framed with reddish-brown hair. Even though he was quite young, in his late thirties, his appearance gave the suggestion of someone who had gone through much grief in a short amount of time. Blue-gray eyes glowed out from his bearded face, eyes that looked ancient and deeply sad, as if grief had overflowed into them. With a slight movement of his fingers the door in front of him swung open. Obi-Wan ducked in, wrapping his dark brown cloak over his cream colored tunic, trying to warm the iciness that prickled his blood.
As he made his way down the hall one thought pounded in his temples, the same thought that had filled him since he'd learned the awful truth. 'Anakin, how could you?' Slants of yellow, yellow as a Sith's eye, crisscrossed the floor, creating geometrical designs. He took another step.

'Anakin, how could you?' The image, the one that had been haunting him for hours again flashed through his brain. He watched as his apprentice, the man he'd loved as a son, as a brother, slash and kill. His lightsaber cutting, not into the metallic skeleton of a battle droid, but Jedi. Jedi Obi-Wan had worked and fought alongside. Ones that had been his friends, his companions since he could remember, 'Anakin, how could you? How could you kill younglings?'

Obi-Wan's step was heavy as he reached yet another door. Obi-Wan stretched his arm forward, his fingers brushing the cold durasteel, shockingly ordinary compared to his whirlwind of thoughts. He closed his eyes, flaying his fingers and giving a slow wave with the Force. An alarm clanged but was shut off almost at once. Inside, Obi-Wan spied a golden Protocol Droid called C3PO hurrying towards him.

"Oh, Master Kenobi, what are you doing here?" C3PO asked, his mechanical voice filled with worry.

"I need to speak to Padme," Obi-Wan replied heavily, folding his arms over his chest. The room, he realized, held Anakin's presence, just as sharp as if he'd just walked out the door.

'Anakin's been here,' Obi-Wan thought as another presence came to his attention. He turned to see a young women in her early twenties running down the stairs towards him. It was Padme, the Senator of Naboo.

Her wavy brown hair hung around her shoulders, whipping around her startled white face.

"Master Kenobi!" she exclaimed sprinting down the last few steps. As soon as she was down she flung herself at Obi-Wan, hugging him tightly. Obi-Wan stiffened at this gesture, would she have hugged him if she'd known what he was going to tell her? Padme drew back, her worried brown eyes searched his face.

"The Republic has fallen, Padme," he said, trying to find the right words

"The Jedi Order is no more." How strange these words seemed, so abstract and unbelievable yet true all the same.

"I know," Padme said, her young face clouded with worry, her voice filled with grief.

"Its hard to believe." 'Of course its hard to believe!' Obi-Wan thought, wishing he could shout the words, unleash his inner turmoil, ease his pounding brain and aching heart. 'Anakin, how could you?'

"But the Senate is still intact," Padme continued

"There is some hope." 'She still thinks that?' Obi-Wan thought sadly.

He shook his head.

"No, Padme, it's over. The Sith now rule the galaxy, as they did before the Republic." The words, he knew, would sound strange to her. They sounded strange to himself, like a nightmare he had had when he was still a youngling. When he believed nothing could hurt him. When everything was clear. He looked into Padme's face and saw that she was staring at him, her eyes wide.

"The Sith?" she exclaimed, her voice laced with disbelief and shock.

'Better start getting to the point,' Obi-Wan told himself as they stepped from the foyer and into the sitting room.

"I'm looking for Anakin," he said, his voice cracking as he spoke his apprentice's name. 'Don't cry,' his brain screamed.

"When was the last time you saw him?" A suspicious look crossed Padme's face as she turned from him. She stood silent for a moment, her brow pinched, her hands clasped tightly before her.

"Yesterday," she replied finally, her head bowed. Obi-Wan felt worry and another strange feeling radiate from Padme. One he knew well. One he'd experienced.

"Do you know where he is now?" he asked gently. She looked up at him, her face ghostly with fear. She looked like she was struggling between telling him the truth or lying. She dropped her gaze.

"No," she mumbled, sitting heavily on the couch. She was lying to him, he knew, it showed in her movements and on her face.

"Padme, I need your help," Obi-Wan pleaded, sitting next her.

"He's in grave danger" 'That much is true,' Obi-Wan thought but it still didn't cover what he had to do. What he must do.

Padme met his gaze, her face stricken.

"From the Sith?" she exclaimed, her fingers curling around the folds in her dark-hued robe. Obi-Wan shook his head, sadness engulfing him, like a cruel ocean, threatening to consume him.

"From himself," he answered slowly, not wanting to break the terrible truth to her, knowing how much it would hurt her to know. 'Its time to face the music. She must know...Its the only way.' Obi-Wan braced himself for whatever Padme would say to him. Whether she would shout at him, cry or remain silent he didn't know. He reached out a hand and placed it on her shoulder.

"Anakin has turned to the dark side." The words exploded in the room, making the truth suddenly real, suddenly raw. Obi-Wan saw Padme's face flush red, her eyes wide with shock.

"You're wrong! How can you even say that!" she shouted, her voice desperate, her eyes pleading with him to deny it. Obi-Wan cringed in pain.

"I saw it, on a security hologram in the Temple. It showed him-"

Obi-Wan voice broke, tears threatening to fall from his eyes.

"Killing younglings." He felt Padme's sharp denial through the Force, it flowed over him, sharp and raw as the sword he had fought Prince Beju with so many years ago.

"Not Anakin!" Padme cried in protest, her hands shaking.

"He couldn't," she continued in a whisper. Obi-Wan couldn't tell if she was speaking to him or reassuring herself.

"He was deceived by a lie," Obi-Wan began hoping to soften the blow, which he knew was impossible. Nothing could soften this blow.

"We all were! It appears that the Chancellor has been behind everything, including the war. Palpatine is the Sith Lord we'd been looking for. After the death of Count Dooku Anakin became his new apprentice"

Obi-Wan drew in air, his throat burning from the un-shed tears he held back.

"I don't believe you!" Padme cried, her voice filled with tears. She leaned back into the seat, her eyes downcast.

"I can't," she whispered quietly.

"I must find him," he went on, wishing he didn't have to tell her this.

'I should have fought the Emperor. Yoda was wrong. I am strong enough to defeat the emperor. But I won't kill Anakin. I can't'

She looked at him, her eyes blazing with realization, horror, and disgust.

"You're going to kill him aren't you?" she whispered accusingly.

He lowered his head in shame. She knew. She'd guessed.

"He's become a very great threat," he said finally, hoping they were the right words. He was used to knowing the right words to speak. Being a negotiator during the Clone Wars had embellished this trait. Now he was at a loss.

Padme sank into her couch in despair, her eyes welled up with tears. Her hands, which had been clinging frantically to her outer robe fell away.

Her outer robe lay loosely across her lower torso and, Obi-Wan saw, that her stomach was swollen. And suddenly he felt two extremely Force presences and they were inside Padme.

Her already pale face blanched as she quickly tried to hide her stomach.

"I can't" she repeated, shaking her head vehemently. Suddenly everything fell into place. Anakin's moodiness, his nightmares he refused to speak of. Anakin was worried about Padme. About their children. Obi-Wan stood and took a couple of shaky steps back. He met Padme's gaze.

"Anakin is the father, isn't he?" he asked softly. When she didn't reply he took a step back.

"I'm so sorry" he said, turning from the stricken women. He pulled his hood back over his head, shadowing his ashen face, as he left. His speeder, as he had programed it, had landed on Padme's balcony. He climbed in, his whole body shaking from the confrontation with Padme. He knew she would leave, she would follow Anakin because she would have to know. He would follow her. 'I will do my duty.' Empty words, empty of emotion, of meaning.

Around an hour later Obi-Wan saw Padme and C3PO emerge from her apartment. She was dressed in a plain, gray jumpsuit, her long hair braided into a long plait down her back. Her security officer, Captain Typho emerged next to her. They spoke in hushed, angry whispers as they walked briskily towards one of the many landing platforms on Coruscant. Obi-Wan followed at a distance, his heart heavy. Several times he stopped, his legs refusing to take another step. 'I can't do it. I just can't do it!' Obi-Wan cried desperately to himself as he tailed the two of them. As soon as they reached the landing platform Obi-Wan made a bee-line towards Padme's Naboo Cruiser. Slipping behind a stack of crates he heard the voices of Padme and Typho flow over towards him.

"My Lady, let me come with you," Typho begged as they reached the Padme's ship.

"There is no danger," Padme told him

"The fighting is over and...this is personal."

Typho's dark brow pinched in uncertainty. He bowed slightly.

"As you wish, my lady. But I strongly disagree."

"I'll be all right Captain, this is something I must do myself."

Typho looked like he would disobey her orders then, with a curt nod, he turned and climbed into a speeder. Padme gazed sadly after Typho then, turned and walked up the ramp, followed by C3PO. Obi-Wan waited a couple of moments then, before the hatch shut, climbed aboard. He felt the floor beneath him shudder as the cruiser took off. Closing his eyes he made his way down the passage until he found a place to hide- an empty storage unit. He bent forward as he entered the small, cramped space. As soon as he was situated he closed the door with the Force. Alone with his thoughts, away from thinking and planning, was not what he wanted. He shut his eyes, trying to push away the look he had seen in Anakin's eyes, the rage-filled murderous gleam that had shone from his once blue gaze.

"There is no emotion, there is peace," Obi-Wan whispered to himself, trying to console himself.

Grief washed over him. His skin warmed under his Jedi Cloak as an unbidden thought crossed his mind, slithering and hissing like a serpent. 'Peace is a lie!' he thought savagely.

Then he covered his face with his hands. How could he think that?

'Stop! You're going down a dangerous path. A path that leads to the dark side. Don't turn.' He told himself. 'But it is a lie!' Another part of his mind argued.

'No!' Obi-Wan's eyes snapped open. He breathed in and out, trying to calm his pounding heart. 'How can I kill Anakin?' he thought for perhaps the hundredth time. He still had no answer. Just like he had no solace to the face that Anakin had betrayed him. 'Anakin, how could you!' Obi-Wan wished he had the same reassurance as Padme that is was a lie. He wished it was a lie.

"Help me, Qui-Gon!" he whispered, feeling lost in the cramped storage hold, on his way to kill his apprentice, who he still loved even thought Anakin had torn his heart to shreds. 'How could Anakin have become a Sith? He's not a bad person. He's a good person.' Obi-Wan clamped his eyes shut, his thoughts sounding childish even to himself.

He had lost everyone. He had lost Qui-Gon Jinn, his Master, his Mentor, the only father he'd ever known. He had lost Siri Tachi- His friend, his fellow Jedi and the his only love. All of his friends in the Order were gone- Bant, Garen, Reeft, Mace, Ki-Adi Mundi, Stass Allie, Aayla Secura, everyone except for Yoda.

And now Anakin, his brother, his son, his best friend, had betrayed him. Turned on him in an instant.

Obi-Wan shivered in in the cargo hold, his face wet, his broken heart burning. He reached into the pouch he wore on his utility belt. his fingers meeting crystal.

He pulled out a dark blue stone with a pulsing red center that glowed with an inner heat. It was Siri's warming crystal, her last gift to him. He pressed it to his forehead feeling the warm stone against his feverish skin.

'Help me!' he begged. He waited but no reply came. He reached for the Force, hoping for its warm, light-filled embrace, but was met by a jagged, dark mass of Bogan, the darkside.

There was nothing for him, he realized. What was living for anyway? He covered his face with his hands again.

He was alone. He was forever to be haunted by his failure. By what he had done and what he had left undone. He was alone.

Later, on a bank of a lava river he watched as his former Padawan died, evolving into the monster known as Darth Vader, the goodness that might have still been in him vanishing with the fires that scoured his body. Obi-Wan picked up a discarded lightsaber that lay nearby, feeling the hilt, still warm from Anakin's palms against his own. Darth Vader screamed at him, screaming his eternal hate as Obi-Wan walked up the bank and towards the ship, tears coursing down his filthy cheeks.

All hope was gone from his heart. Even though Anakin's children still lived inside Padme he didn't know if they could fix this mess.

This mess he was in.

He was alone. Alone. Alone.

In a dark galaxy strangled by evil.


Writing Tips: Part 1: Section D

Writing Tips
Part 1: Genres
Section D: Historical Fiction

Unlike Science Fiction and Fantasy which can be split into multiple sub-genres, Historical Fiction is pretty much just one simple, complete genre.
Historical Fiction, like its name, tells a story about the past during an important and significant point in history such as a battle in a war, a discovery, an exploration, or anything else that has taken place. The main character is normally a fictional person, but can sometimes be a real person. Real historical figures also appear in these stories and interact at some point with the fictional characters.
Due to the fact that this is based on history, the author of a book in this genre
should stay true to history. If it doesn't, it is usually labeled "Alternate History" which is a Science Fiction genre.
Popular authors of this genre are - Mark Twain, Phillipa Gregory, Sir Walter Scott, Leo Tolstoy, and Louisa May Alcott.
Sorry that there isn't that much information, but since Historical Fiction isn't split into several genres, the information about what makes it that genre is less.