The Kenobi Saga Book One:The Clone Wars

11. Fist Day

Lore-Val frowned at the outfit laid out on her bed. She wasn't nearly as fashion forward as Padme, but the school uniform was almost depressing. A white collared shirt that would be tucked into light brown slacks. The only redeeming quality was the wool cardigan. The dark blue sweater was cozy with large pockets and wooden buttons down the front. It almost made up for the clunky but comfortable shoes she would be wearing.

She got dressed before doing her hair. Two neat over plait braids that went from her hairline to the nape of her neck, where she tied them off into long ponytails that fell over her shoulders. After assuring herself she looked presentable, Lore-Val grabbed her new crossbody bag, fingering the small embroidered flowers as she stepped out into the living room where Solitaire was waiting.

"The general requested you call before we leave," he told her.

Lore-Val frowned, "Isn't he in the midst of a battle?"

"They're still traveling," Solitaire informed her, passing over his holo.

Lore-Val pressed the call button and waited for Obi-Wan to answer the call.

"Good morning," he said, clearly walking from the ship's bridge, as he spoke.

"Good morning," Lore-Val replied, "You wanted to speak with me?"

"Yes, well," Obi-Wan paused, nodding as someone passed him, "I just wanted to wish you a good first day,"

"Oh, thank you," Lore-Val smiled, pleasantly surprised. She'd needed to fight to be allowed to start school this semester. Some people (her father, Cody, and Solitaire) had been worried about letting her out of the apartment, until Padme argued that many senators sent their children to the same school and there were plenty of safety measures in place.

Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder and sighed, "I'm afraid I have to go. Be safe."

"Of course. You too."

Obi-Wan smiled, and with that the transmission closed.

Lore-Val handed the holo back to Solitaire.

"Are you ready?" he asked, picking his helmet off the table.

She nodded, kneeling down to buckle her shoes, "Do you have lunch credits?"

"Student security is provided lunch. Do you have your credits?"

"Yes sir," she patted her bag as she stood, "Credits, data pad, and headphones."

Solitaire put his helmet on, and headed for the door, "Let's go."

.   .   .

First period the superintendent mistakenly introduced her as 'Lore-Val Kenobi'. It didn't take long for her classmates to figure out her father was a Jedi, a war hero. A few hours later someone put it together that Kryze was the name of the Mandalorian Duchess.

By lunch the entire school was talking about her. Half of them were afraid of her. Everyone was staring at her. To these kids Mandalorians were ghost stories told by older siblings, not the girl sitting next to you in math. Those who weren't afraid of her had been polite enough, helping her get the right books onto her datapad and pointing her to her next classes.

Lore-Val walked through the lunch line, stopping after she'd paid and looking out at the rows of tables. She saw one of the girls who had helped her earlier, but didn't want to bother her. Instead she found an empty table and sat at the far end. Lore-Val plugged in her headphones so she could start working on her homework. She took a bite of her sandwich while she listened to Shyriiwook audio files, translating them into Basic. She let the Wookie's voice drown out the din of the cafeteria, doing her best to ignore the stares.

.   .   .

Lore-Val raced up the steps, trying desperately to make it to her history class. She'd gotten lost and wasn't sure she could find the right classroom before the late bell. She burst out of the stairwell, nearly running into a maintenance worker.

"Sorry, excuse me," She apologized, continuing her mad dash down the hall.

She managed to duck into the classroom just as the bell rang, "Sorry," she breathed, handing the teacher a datacard with her transfer information, "I'm

Lore-Val Kryze. You're Mr.Dillis?"

The teacher nodded, "You found the right place, take a seat. Harsha, grab a datacard from the back shelf and give it to Lore-Val. Alright, everyone settle. We're looking for 323ATC on the timeline-"

"Mr. D," Harsha called from where she was staring at the ceiling, "The vent is leaking again."

The man frowned, "They said someone would look at that. Put a bucket under it would you?"

Harsha kicked a trash can under the vent and brought the data card to Lore-Val.

Lore-Val plugged in the datacard, waiting for the history book to download. She swallowed, knowing what was coming with the year 323 ATC. She waited for the stares as the others put it together.

"Back on task, everyone," Mr.Dillis called over the teenagers who were turned to look at the leaking vent, that seemed to be spilling out slightly hazy air, "323 ATC, the Mandalorian Jedi wars."

Lore-Val kept her eyes on her datapad, listening as the teacher lectured on the war she'd been learning about since childhood. Beside her, a boy's head dropped to his desk. Lore-Val felt her eyes growing heavy, her mind filling with static.

.   .   .

"Gas is in place," Malthe said, leaving the ventilation control room "It should take seven minutes at most to reach peak efficacy."

"Speeder is ready," Devi answered, "Aul has his jet pack and is ready at your go."

Malthe didn't answer, a red headed girl nearly hitting him with the stairwell door, apologizing as she ran by and ducked into a classroom.

"Target is in place," Malthe told the others as he stepped into a custodial closet. He quickly put on his helmet to avoid being affected by the gas "I'm getting my armor now. I'll give you the signal soon."

He listened for his partners to give him confirmation as he started changing from the coveralls into the rest of his gold painted armor.

He smiled to himself, so far so good.

AN: Sorry about the wait. I hope this arc will live up to that wait. I've never written drama/action like this so I'd appreciate any suggestions/criticism that would help me in the future. My plan is to post chapter 12 this weekend in an attempt to make up for going off my posting schedule.