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Siri Tachi was having a bad day.
Her lightsaber had shorted and was in repair, she was stuck on Coruscant doing Temple duty, and worst of all, the novel she checked out from the archives was a week late. Normally, this would incur a small fine of a few credits which she would have been happy to pay, but that would mean having to return the book physically, in person, to whoever was on duty that day instead of using the self-checkout. And Siri really didn’t want to do that.
The Jedi Archives were complete, some might say too complete. On those packed shelves, one could find anything from instruction manuals to ancient records dating back to the Old Republic. Many a Jedi had often wondered how those tomes remained intact for so long (The “force” was their conclusion). It was among these overflowing ledges that Siri had stumbled upon her current predicament – the trashiest novel on Coruscant, nay, in the universe.
Us Against The Force was last year’s top-selling action-romance novel in the Core. A steamy tale of two individuals gifted with mystical magic powers and trained in the art of “laser swords” who worked together in a company that provided mercenary services, they were contracted to defend the innocents of the galaxy, yet forbidden to love due to HR policies. Critics of the work praised it for its grounded setting and lovable characters, but also pointed out that the mercenaries sounded awfully like Jedi.
Among actual Jedi in the temple, Us Against The Force received mixed reviews. The esteemed Council sighed hopelessly at the work of literature. The characters indeed did not wield the force but had “mystical magic powers” instead, so there wasn’t enough to sue for defamation. Quinlan Vos and a few other bold and insolent Knights had the nerve to adapt the book into a play for the annual Drama Night, only to be forced off the stage by Council members within the first few minutes, who deemed acknowledging this piece of slander in the Temple as utter blasphemy.
So when Siri saw the infamous book sitting on a shelf in the archives, she was shocked. With the Council’s scorn and all the drama it had stirred up, one would have thought a physical copy of Us Against The Force would never have made it into the temple, let alone the archives, but apparently it had, and there it lay, right in front of her eyes, complete with a barcode and a purple stamp from the Jedi Archives (Turns out, a Jedi Archivist was one of the Jedi Knights who had had a hand in transforming the novel into a theatre production).
Just as curiosity had killed the cat, it also compelled Siri to remove the book from the shelf, open its cover, and read it. She was just a few pages in before she realized the archive was not a safe place for a young Jedi Knight to be caught reading what could be interpreted as sacrilege. If she was going to finish Us Against The Force, she would have to do it elsewhere.
She hid the novel among the galactic politics books in her arms, which were what she had gone to the archives for in the first place. She didn’t expect to be side tracked while trying to do research for her upcoming diplomatic mission, but as the saying goes, the force works in mysterious ways, and so she quietly scanned the books’ barcodes at the self-checkout counter.
Siri took off her robe and draped it across her arm that carried the books. She walked down the busy hallways of the temple, took a few flights of stairs, and finally made it to her room.
She knew she would have to exercise caution, even in the confines of her own apartment. She formulated a plan as to where she would hide the novel, just in case anyone decided to knock on her door for a visit. She shut the blinds, double-checked that her door was locked, then comfortably settled onto her leather couch. She flipped open the book, took a deep breath, and read.
So she read. And while it didn’t repulse her as much as it did the Council, Siri could certainly see why they had been so up in arms about the book. It came off heavily as a bastardization of members of the Jedi Order, presumably born from the depths of eerie fascination and peculiar fantasy. But in the solitary confines of her room, Siri dared to say she found the book amusing. Sure, the subpar writing was rough to get through; Hyoda (the “H” was not silent), the CEO of the fictional company bore an uncanny resemblance to Master Yoda; and she cringed a little at its sexual elements (and there were an uncomfortable amount of them), but she would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the experience. She couldn’t help feeling a certain connection to the female protagonist. Blonde-haired, blue-eyed and with a feisty spunk to match, there was just something about Alexa from Us Against The Force that called out to Siri. And as much as she tried to deny it, Alexa and Benjamin's illicit office romance felt strangely familiar, and made her heart sting like it once did many moons ago.
Whatever Siri’s thoughts on the book, none of it mattered. What did matter was how she was going to face the archivist on shift as she returned the book and paid the late fee. Jedi may know no fear, but they certainly know embarrassment. As Siri trudged down the hallway to the archives, she prayed for the person at the counter to be anyone but Jocasta Nu. She could come to accept a raised eyebrow from a fellow Knight, or shifty eyes from a red-faced Padawan volunteering at the desk, but to be met with the mortification of a renowned librarian would be too much to bear.
Stepping through the doorway of the Archives, Siri glanced at the service counter and silently thanked the force for answering her prayer. A lone Padawan stood at the desk. The other Jedi in the vicinity were browsing the aisles, nowhere near the table. It was the perfect time to return the damned book, and Siri was glad she chose the middle of the day to carry out this daunting task.
Feeling more positive about her chances of preserving her dignity, Siri walked towards the counter. Mentally, she ran through what she was to do. Cursorily greet the Padawan; casually place the book down; give him the owed credits while staring at the clock behind the station; turn, and leave. Four simple procedures to save her from more humiliation than necessary.
“Hello Padawan,” she glanced at his nametag, “Veld. Cool name. Yes, very cool.”
“Cursory, Siri! Cursory!” she thought to herself. She would have to chastise herself and rethink this moment later. For now, she had to move on to step two: handing over the book. It wasn’t lost on Siri that the brief but nonetheless present gap of time between her salutation and the actual transfer of the novel had made the handover become decidedly uncasual.
“Seven credits please.”
Siri snapped out of her mental monologue to hastily scramble her pockets for the seven chips she had previously counted and prepared for this exact event. She grazed his eyes while giving him the currency, painfully aware that she had completely botched step three, and agonizingly conscious of the questioning look on the Padawan’s face. Finishing the transaction, Siri decided that she could at least execute the last part of her strategy correctly, and she was about to do so before she felt a light tap on her shoulder from behind.
"Siri! Never thought I would see you here!"
Siri could have given that voice a name blind. With a sharp and crisp tone, his disposition too often toed the line between insolence and self-satisfied charm. At any other time, she would have been more than willing to indulge in snappy quips and quick retorts with the wisenheimer, but right now, she was preoccupied with calculating how long he had been standing behind her, and more specifically how much he had seen.
“Obi-Wan, h-hey!” Siri stuttered while hurriedly turning around to face the man. Clasping her hands together in front of herself, she hoped she was assuming a stance that painted a picture of typicality.
“Are you quite alright?” Obi-Wan asked with concern.
“Totally. Of course. Everything’s perfect.” Siri threw out whatever terms of assurance that came to mind. Taking a brief glance behind her, she saw the Padawan transferring Us Against The Force to a book cart. As long as Obi-Wan didn’t look too closely, she should be home and dry if she maintained a modicum of composure.
Obi-Wan wasn’t entirely convinced by Siri’s display but he figured the Jedi Archives was not an appropriate place to poke the floundering Knight any further. He would do that in the Temple corridors instead.
“Siri, wait for me.” He said while signalling to the Padawan that he had some books to return.
Siri sighed internally. She had no choice but to engage with the Knight now. She reluctantly walked beside Obi-Wan as they left the archives.
“So, what was that about.”
Siri knew lying only ever made things worse, so she stuck with the truth.
“Just turned in a book late.”
Not entirely veracious, but it wasn’t false.
Obi-Wan shot her a look.
“And that’s gotten you stumbling over simple sentences. Siri, I’m glad you find me youthful but I wasn’t born yesterday.”
On this occasion, she truly wished that he was because she really did not want to be a part of this exchange any longer. Fortunately for Siri, she had learnt from her twenty-eight years of life that saying you had pressing matters to handle was an inoffensive and effective way to get out of conversations. It wouldn’t be untruthful either. A Jedi’s work was never finished, and urgency was in the eyes of the beholder. And right then, she was of the opinion that her Felucian fern needed an urgent watering.
“It’s nothing, Kenobi.” she uttered, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some pressing matters to attend to.” She said the last part with a bit more conviction, and began a firm and purposeful stride towards her apartment. Her evasion tactic worked again.
A few hallways and a turbolift ride later, Siri made it to her apartment. She unlocked the door, walked into the room, and immediately went to water her fern.
With that done, Siri finally felt that she could put this book-returning experience behind her. Between braving a prying Padawan, and escaping a narrow conversation with Kenobi, Siri gave herself a pat on the back for a crisis well averted, and relaxed onto her sofa. Just as she had closed the cover of Us Against The Force on the same couch a few weeks prior, she could also consider this whole affair settled.
~
Siri was halfway through finishing her dinner when a door chime rang out through her living space. Grudgingly putting her fork down to get the door, she opened it up to be greeted by the sight of Obi-Wan Kenobi. But it wasn’t any normal variation of him, it was Obi-Wan Kenobi with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, and that only ever meant one thing: leave foreboding at the door, something bad was going to happen.
“Hello there, Siri.” he beamed.
"To what exactly do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" She pointedly asked as he sauntered into her quarters.
She was about to offer him dinner in the name of courtesy but Obi-Wan had already sat himself on the chair across her and had even plucked an orange slice from her platter.
"What? I happen to like oranges." He haughtily stated in response to Siri's disapproving glare.
Siri returned to her meal as Obi-Wan helped himself to another slice.
Satisfied with his fruit, he wiped his fingers down on his tunic, and postured himself in a manner that suggested dialogue. Siri saw the glint in his eye and knew she was not going to like what he was about to say.
“So, my Padawan told me a lovely story today.” he paused, and looked at Siri. “You see, he’s very good friends with this other Padawan, Padawan Tru Veld, who has volunteered to do library duty. He helped check out both of our books today, if you recall?” His grin grew wider.
“Your point is?” Siri said behind clenched teeth. She knew her game was lost, but she would at least put on a show of defiance to protect what she could of her pride.
“As you know, a specific book has become a contentious topic among members of the Order, regardless of age. Anakin came to me with the news that a copy of this text somehow exists in the Jedi Archives, and a certain Knight had, and I’m quoting him word for word here, ‘had the balls to borrow the smutty Jedi fanfiction’.”
Blushing scarlet, Siri wanted nothing more than to be swallowed up by the thousand floors of Coruscant’s lower levels then and there. And right when she thought things couldn’t possibly get worse, Obi-Wan Kenobi pulled out the familiar dark cover from beneath his robe and plopped it onto the dining table. If looks could kill, Obi-Wan Kenobi would not only be dead, but his lifeless body would have been resurrected just to be killed again.
“I must say Siri, your choice of literature is quite intriguing. And since it was good enough for you to read, I decided to give it a go myself. I’m just a few chapters in but I’ve already written down some notes.” He said while thumbing through the pages of the novel.
“Obi-wan, can we just drop this?” Siri had moved past her embarrassment and now just wanted desperately to gain control of the situation. Sadly, do or do not, there is no try. Siri did not steer the conversation in the desired direction.
“Hear this: Page forty-seven, line eight, 'Stared into blue orbs.'; Page fifty-five, line twenty, "ocean blue orbs looked into her soul with longing"; Page seventy-two, line fifteen 'Orbs that lit a fire within her she could not put out'. The author seems to have a certain fixation with the word 'orbs' don't you think? Frankly, writing ‘eyes’ would have been perfectly fine. And with all these mentions of flames and fire in the book, you would think you were reading about arsonists." Obi-Wan said in a manner befitting of a book club speaker.
Siri tried to insert herself into Obi-Wan's ramblings but found no opening to do so. He had begun to comment on the writer’s use of prosaic motifs, startling allusions (to the Jedi Order), and overt euphemisms. If she was not busy being annoyed, Siri would have been impressed, though mildly confused, by Obi-Wan’s in-depth and thorough examination of the text.
“Obi-Wan, literary devices are the last thing on my mind right now. I know it’s a crappy sex-upped book about caricatured Jedi that may or may not be banned within the temple walls, but for what it's worth, it's entertaining. Now can we please just stop talking about this.” Siri pleaded, rubbing her forehead with two fingers.
"You know, there's really nothing to be embarrassed about Siri. Everyone can enjoy a trashy novel now and then. Us Against The Force does have its riveting moments." Obi-Wan said, feeling slightly bad (and only slightly) for toying with Siri.
Siri heard his sincerity. Truthfully, with the possibility of Us Against The Force being contraband aside, Siri had no other reason to be concerned about the book. Obi-Wan was right, everyone can delight in a trashy book. She didn't have anything to be embarrassed about.
"You're right, Obi-Wan." She looked up at him and gave him a slight smile which he returned.
"It's hardly a good book, but that's why we relish in it." He noted.
"The writing truly is atrocious." Siri laughed.
"'Her cheeks were red like a red fire hydrant.' would support your statement." Obi-Wan added.
"Oh, just wait till you get to the raunchy bits. The metaphors leave much to be desired." Siri quipped.
"I'll see." he raised an eyebrow.
Siri had to snort at that.
The two talked a bit more about the novel. Siri brought up the scene where the protagonists find out their New Year bonuses come from under-the-counter spice trading, and shared a few of the most egregious sentences she had the pleasure of reading, one involving the cursed phrase 'trembling bosoms'.
"I must get going. Anakin has the discipline of a toddler, and I have to make sure he finishes his assignments tonight." Obi-Wan announced as he put the novel back into his robe, "Thank you for the food."
Walking him to her door, Siri thanked him for his company and wished him a pleasant night. As he left, Siri fondly reminisced about the evening's events. She had gone from stuttering about the novel to vivaciously joking about it with Kenobi, reminding her once again how much she appreciated Obi-Wan's company and subconsciously, why the man always held a place in her heart. She hoped he felt the same way about her amity.
After clearing the table and washing her dishes, Siri settled into her night-time routine. She turned on her television and flipped to channel nine-thousand-and-fifty-four. Aldera Courts, her favorite Alderaanian period drama, was showing.
As the familiar four-chord opening theme started playing, Siri thought it wasn’t that bad a day after all.
~
Obi-Wan had lied.
If he had been true to his word, he would have turned right and headed directly to his shared apartment with his Padawan after stepping out of Siri’s quarters. Instead, he took a left, and went five floors down. Reaching the two giant wooden doors of his intended destination, he looked down the corridor to check that no one was around before pushing them open and entering the room.
“Obi-Wan, glad you could make it. We’re almost done discussing the choreography for the fighting.” Quinlan’s voice projected from across the hall.
“So we’ll force push the other guy out of the way during the office brawl scene. It’ll look exactly like how it’s described in the book.” one Knight said as the others nodded in agreement.
A single spotlight illuminated the figures of a few Knights gathered on the stage of the temple’s recital hall. Obi-Wan noted the gratuitous lack of lighting. While he understood the clandestine nature of this meeting, the venue had already been reserved and no one was going to barge in on them, and if someone did waltz in, witnessing a dark room with a bunch of Knights dubiously convening would give more questions than answers. He thus concluded that the solitary stage light was purely for theatrics; Quinlan always had to be dramatic.
“I’ve thought up a solution to the Council problem.” Obi-Wan announced once he made it to the stage.
“Thank goodness. We do not want a repeat of last year.” one of the Knights gleefully stated.
“The stage is yours, Kenobi.” Quinland gestured for him to continue.
Obi-Wan paced around as he laid out his proposal, “We’ll request for this year’s Drama Night to be held on the day that coincides with the Senate Gala. That puts most of the Council out of commission, or in commission, depending on your point of view. As we know, the doors lock twenty minutes into the function, so all we have to do is rally some Knights to keep the remaining council members occupied for a bit.”
The group of Knights murmured signs of approval at Obi-Wan’s idea. Quinlan went ahead and gave Obi-Wan a hearty slap on the back for his ingenuity.
“I joined this posse late, and I wasn’t here during last years’ fiasco, but know that I want to see this happen as much as all of you do. I was completely sold on this play the moment Quinlan told me about the premise. In fact, I discovered a copy of the book in the Archives today. Someone in the room is responsible for this, I believe?” Obi-Wan asked, quirking his lips.
A bespectacled Knight proudly raised his hand.
“We’re gonna pull it off this year guys,” Quinlan confidently asserted, “I can feel it.”
Like Quinlan, Obi-Wan and the other Knights on the stage felt the same way too. Us Against The Force, a monstrosity of a story, was going to get the live performance it deserved. A committed gang of Knights would portray characters based on Jedi, and no council members were standing in the way of that, not this time.