Jedi Apprentice 1: The Rising Force (звёздные войны)

by Дэйв Волвертон

  “What about your courage?” Obi-Wan countered. “Think about it Si Treemba. You were dying, and you still would not betray me. You just faced down a Hutt!”

  A slow smile spread over Si Treemba’s face. “So we did,” he said, pleased “So we did.”

  “Don’t get too cocky,” Obi-Wan said with a sigh. “We still have to face Clat’Ha and Qui-Gon. They aren’t going to be happy about this.”

  As soon as Obi-Wan Kenobi and Si Treemba were gone, Grelb slithered to Jemba and told him everything.

  The giant grey Hutt loomed over Grelb, gasping in rage. Jemba was hundreds of years older than Grelb, and also much larger. “SO,” Jemba growled looking around his stateroom in a rage. “I knew it. The Jedi Knight and his young pupil have joined with the Arconans against me!”

  “It was inevitable, O Great One,” Grelb said. “They do not like our kind.”

  “It’s your fault!” Jemba said. “I should chop off your tail for this and have it for dinner.”

  Grelb’s hearts began racing in fear, and he immediately coiled his tail up near his body.

  Jemba continued, “If you were going to sabotage the tunnelers, you should have waited until we got to Bandomeer.”

  Grelb tried to look hurt by the accusation, but Jemba did not fall for it. The huge slapped Grelb’s face hard enough so that Grelb felt as if his brains had turned to jelly.

  After picking himself up off the floor, Grelb said, “You’ve never complained about my methods before!” Theft, sabotage, and murder were Grelb’s methods, but he made sure that Offworld Mining always profited by them.

  “But this time there are Jedi around!” Jemba roared.

  “I did not know that the boy was a Jedi when I gave him his first beating,” Grelb apologized. “If I had, he’d be dead by now. I promise, next time —“

  Jemba pointed a huge finger at Grelb. “The boy is onto our schemes. There won’t be a next time. Let me handle this!”

  “As you please,” Grelb said. He turned away and slithered from the room. As the door hissed closed behind him, Grelb clenched his fists, imagining that he was squeezing the throat of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

  Of course there will be a next time, Grelb promised himself.

  Chapter 12

  Obi-Wan considered retiring to his cabin, but he knew he would rather face Qui-Gon sooner than later. He suggested that Si Treemba get some rest, but the Arconan refused.

  “We will face them together,” Si Treemba said. drawing himself up to his full height.

  They found the Jedi and Clat’Ha in the Arconans’ lounge, were the lights were always turned low to simulated night and the music doids softly played Arconan flutes. Few Arconans were in the lounge so late. The few that we had their eyes closed, and stood as still as statues — the Arconan equivalent of sleep.

  Qui-Gon stood at the bar, drinking some bluish juice. Clat’Ha stood near him, an untouched glass of juice sat in front of her on the bar. One look at them and Obi-Wan knew they both were aware of what had happened on the Offworld side of the ship.

  “At least you’re still in one piece this time,” Qui-Gon said, eyeing him coldly. “Well, did you discover anything?”

  “No,” Obi-Wan admitted. “Si Treemba was captured before we could find the thermocoms.”

  “Obi-Wan rescued us,” Si Treemba praised. “we were shackled to the floor, and he stood up to Grelb the Hutt himself—“

  “A man who puts himself in the path of danger deserves to face it alone,” Qui-Gon said sternly.

  Obviously, Obi-Wan’s bravery did not impress him. Si Treemba quieted, shooting a look at Obi-Wan that said we tried.

  “You deliberately disobeyed my order,” Qui-Gon said evenly.

  “With respect, I am not under your charge, Qui-Gon Jinn,” Obi-Wan said quietly. “As you keep reminding me.”

  Qui-Gon turned to him and stared for a moment. Obi-Wan couldn’t read what was behind that keen blue gaze. At last, he spoke. “Your meddling has only made things worse.”

  “I made matters worse?” Obi-Wan asked. “What do you mean?”

  “Yes, you have.” Qui-Gon said. His face remained impassive, his tone neutral. But now Obi-wan could sense his deep irritation. He had hoped to win the Jedi’s respect. Instead, he was looked at as a pest, not even worth of great anger. “You sneaked into Offworld territory, invaded their privacy, got caught, and had to fight your way out again. They will surely retaliate.”

  “But it was worth the risk,” Obi-Wan tried. “If we had found the thermocoms —“

  Clat’Ha interrupted him. “The thermocoms were found on hour ago, hidden in a barrel of lubricant. Whoever dropped them in there didn’t expect them to be found.”

  Obi-Wan’s mouth snapped shut. Qui-Gon was right. He had risked the fragile peace on the ship for nothing.

  “Can’t you see that this isn’t about thermocoms?” Qui-Gon said, trying to keep his voice even. “A Jedi must look at the larger picture. The reason for my order was because I wanted tensions to cool. I wanted to engender trust. How can the Offworlders trust the Jedi, if they find you sneaking around their territory? How can —“

  The room suddenly shook, and there was a rumbling boom. Qui-Gon’s drink went sliding from the bar, and the cup crashed to the floor. Si Treemba pitched onto his belly. Warning sirens began to wail.

  “What hit us?” Clat’Ha shouted.

  But Obi-Wan knew that if they’d collided with another ship, or an asteroids, in hyperspace, it would have torn the ship apart. Distantly, Obi-Wan heard the whunk whunk whunk of the ship’s guns firing.

  Qui-Gon strode to the window. His hand rested on his lightsaber. “Pirates,” he announced.

  Chapter 13

  Qui-Gon raced for the bridge, down the main corridors. Obi-Wan, Si Treemba, and Clat’Ha followed at a dead run. All around the ship, Arconans were whining in terror — making the strange hissing sound of their kind. They backed into their rooms and locked their doors.

  Through the grates under the floor Qui-Gon could hear the grind of the generators charging the ships shields. Meanwhile, the steady whunk whunk sound continued as blasters fired.

  He thought he knew what had happened. Pirates sometimes mined the shipping lanes. When the ship hit a mine, the hyperdrive blew, and the ship would drop back out of hyperspace.

  As it did, the pirates would open fire, destroying the ship’s weapons and engines so swiftly that unwary travelers seldom had time to react.

  Then the pirates would send boarding parties out to strip anything they could from their victims.

  A miner transport like the Monument didn’t have much worth stealing, but the pirates wouldn’t know that — not until they’d blown it to pieces and searched through the rubble.

  The floor shuddered under the impact of another explosion. As the ship twisted to its side, Qui-Gon rounded a corner. Ahead was a transparisteel view port. Through it, he could see five Togorian warships, all shaped like red birds of prey. Two screamed past his port. Green bolts of blaster fire erupted from the warships, slamming into the Monument. Metal shrieked in protest. The corridors filled with greasy smoke.

  The Monument’s guns had gone silent. Now, Qui-Gon could see why — the gun turrets had been blown away. Buts of burning slag lit up like glowing stars where the turrets had once stood.

  The Monument floated dead in space. Though fire alarms sounded, no one on the bridge was shouting orders. Now a Togorian cruiser raced toward the ship.

  Qui-Gon stood, watching helplessly as the cruiser approached. There were times when he wished that he was not alone, times when he wished he had not lost his last Padawan, Xanatos.

  “Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon called. Even though he did not fully trust the boy, he didn’t see any other choice. They need some kind of plan, and they all had to work together if they hoped to survive. “The pirates are getting ready to board,” he said crisply. “I’ll try to stop them. Go to the bridge and see if the crew is alive. If they are not, I want you to pilot t
his ship out of here.”

  Qui-Gon stared hard at the boy. He was asking a lot, he knew. He knew that as a Jedi student, Obi-Wan had flown a few ships in simulation, and most likely piloted some cloud cars around Coruscant. But he’s never piloted a ship like this, and he’d never been in battle.

  “I can fight alongside you,” Obi-Wan protested.

  Qui-Gon turned and grasped the boy by both elbows. “Listen to me. You must obey this time. Trust my judgement. I can hold back the pirates, but we’ll all die if the ship remains dead in space. Don’t worry about where to go. Just fly anywhere. Once the pirates start boarding, their friends won’t be able to fire on us for fear of killing their leaders. Go now. Fly.”

  Obi-Wan nodded. Qui-Gon could see the uncertainty in the boy’s eyes. Qui-Gon wasn’t sure if they boy would be able to pilot the ship, either.

  But then again, he wasn’t sure he himself could hold off the pirates.

  Obi-Wan nodded. “I won’t let you down.”

  Qui-Gon watched as Obi-Wan sprinted toward the bridge with Si Treemba behind him. Suddenly, the boy looked so young…

  For half a moment, Qui-Gon was tempted to follow him and leave the pirates to the Whiphids and Arconans. But the miners wouldn’t be a match for the Togorians. He would have to trust Obi-Wan.

  Qui-Gon heard the distant roar of small blasters. That could mean only one thing: the pirates had already boarded. Though the Arconans were choosing to hide from the battle, the Offworld miners were putting up a fight.

  Of course, the pirates would send more than one boarding party. Qui-Gon decided to let the Offworlders protect themselves. He dashed down a side corridor, toward the docking bay. Clat’Ha ran behind him.

  He rounded a corner. A huge Togorian pirate stood directly in his path, his eyes flashing like green embers in the dark fur of his face. The Togorian reached out with his enormous claws to rake Qui-Gon.

  But Qui-Gon was a Jedi Master. The Force had already warned him. He twisted under the pirate’s arms, anticipating the move, and grasped the lightsaber attached to his belt. The blade came up cleanly, slicing the Togorian at the knees. The Togorian roared in pain.

  Behind the fallen pirate, more Togorians rounded a corner and ran toward them. Clat’Ha, in a blind panic, pulled her own blaster and opened fire. One Togorian screamed in pain, it’s huge fangs gaping and showing blood.

  All of the Togorians returned fire with their own blasters. Qui-Gon dodged two bolts, then used his lightsaber to deflect three more.

  Clat’Ha dropped low, screaming in rage. She was an able warrior, but they were outnumbered twenty to one. Qui-Gon vowed to do his best to keep her alive.

  The door to the bridge was sealed shut, and burning hot. Obi-Wan could feel heat radiating from it as he tried to open it. A fire raged on the other side. Ignoring the pain, he tried to wedge his fingers in the crack and pull it open.

  “It’s no use,” Si Treemba told him. “That’s a fire door. It locks if the bridge is burning.”

  Obi-Wan backed from the door. The bridge must have taken a direct hit from one of the Togorian ships. But a hit from a heavy blaster or a proton torpedo would have done more than just start a fire. Most likely it had punched a hole in the hull.

  It would be dangerous to try to open the door. There might only be a fire, but it could be worse. All the air could have escaped from the room.

  He remembered the look on Qui-Gon’s face as the Jedi Master asked for his help. He couldn’t let him down this time.

  Carefully, Obi-Wan struggled to calm himself, to use the Force. He could sense the latching mechanism, and it would take only a little effort to move it.

  But then what? If he opened it, he could get pulled into space. Or toxic smoke could roil into the corridor and suffocate him, or the fire might spread into the halls.

  He didn’t have a choice. He focused his attention and the door slid open.

  Immediately, a stiff wind knocked him on the back. The breath left Obi-Wan’s lungs, and the sips air whisked pat him, sucked into the vacuum of space. Obi-Wan grabbed the door frame to keep from getting sucked out. It was all he could do to hold on. Behind him, Si Treemba got a handhold on the edge of a control box.

  The bridge had indeed been hit. Air screamed out through a small round hole up above the view port.

  “I have to plug that hole!” Obi-Wan shouted to Si Treemba.

  But before Obi-Wan could move, Si Treemba dropped to the floor. He crawled across the bridge, reaching for handhold after handhold. Obi-Wan could only hang on to the door frame and watch. He couldn’t stop Si Treemba and he couldn’t help him.

  Si Treemba reached for a spherical compass — the round metal object that served as a backup in case the main nav computer was hit or disabled. Fighting the screaming wind, Si Treemba stumbled to the hull and released the compass near the hole. The vacuum sucked it in, and immediately the rushing air quieted.

  “Good Work!” Obi-Wan called as he ran to the pilot console. The captain and his copilot were still strapped into their seats, drowsy from loss of air. In another minute, they’d have suffocated. As it was, both men were unconscious. The room felt hot. Blaster fire had ripped through the navigation terminal, and metal slag pooled everywhere. But with so little air in the room, the fire had gone out.

  Obi-Wan unbuckled the captain and moved him onto the floor. Then he looked at the control panel. There were so many lights and buttons. For a moment he was stunned, unsure what to do.

  He looked up at the view port.

  Togorian warships surrounded the Monument. A heavy cruiser that had been refitted as a gun ship edged nearer. Its shields had to be down for it to be so close.

  A red light blinked insistently on Obi-Wan’s console. In a daze he realized that the forward proton torpedo tubes were loaded and armed. They were standard defensive gear for transports traveling in such a region. His targeting computer was down, but he aimed for the bridge of the gun ship without it.

  His heart pounded. He was afraid of what he had to do. He hoped qui-Gon was tight, the pirates wouldn’t dare fire back with their own men aboard. Because if they did fire, they’d hit with everything they had.

  “What are you going to do, Obi-Wan??” Si Treemba asked, holding on to the bridge console.

  “Send a message to the Togorians,” Obi-Wan answered grimly. “We’re not dead yet!”

  Reaching across the console, he launched the proton torpedoes.

  * * *

  Blaster fire lit the smoky corridors of the Monument, blinding him. Qui-Gon deflected and dodged the bolts.

  Dead Togorians were strewn in the hall behind. Live Togorians choked the hall ahead. Their roaring resounded from the walls.

  For a moment, he was pinned behind the dead. He wished that he had some backup. But the Offworlders were fighting on another front.

  “Where are your Arconans?” he shouted to Clat’Ha. “We could use some help.”

  “Arconans don’t fight!” Clat’Ha shouted back as she snapped a shot at a Togorian. “They probably locked themselves in their rooms!”

  “What about Jemba’s men?” Qui-Gon asked. “Maybe you should contact them for help!”

  “They wouldn’t come,” Clat’Ha said grimly. “I’m afraid it’s you and me, Qui-Gon..”

  A Togorian pirate captain lunged down the corridor, bursting through the screen of smoke. He was huge, nearly twice as tall as a man. His black body armor was scarred and pitted from a thousand fights. A Human skull dangled from a chain around his neck. His fur was dark as night, and his green eyes gleamed wickedly.

  He carried a huge vibro-ax in one hand, an energy shield in the other. The pirates pointed ears were drawn back flat against his skull. He stepped forward to meet it.

  “Meet your death, Jedi!” the Togorian pirate roared. “I have hunted your kind before, and I will gnaw your bones tonight!”

  Suddenly, Qui-Gon realized that the pirates behind their dark captain were retreating, back toward the hold. There
was nowhere to go back there, except another access tunnel. The pirates were probably trying to circle behind him.

  Clat’Ha rushed forward and fired her blaster. The Togorian raised his shield against it, deflecting it easily. Then he raised his deadly vibro-ax. With only the slightest touch, the weapon could sever a man’s head. Qui-Gon moved forward in one flowing movement, his lightsaber held high.

  “No doubt you have killed before,” Qui-Gon said softly. “But you shall not be gnawing any bones tonight.”

  He leaped at the Togorian pirate. The pirate roared and swung his ax.