Wearily, Qui-Gon raised himself up in the chair. His shoulder flamed where the pirate had struck him. Hed been holding that pain at bay, but now it overwhelmed him.
Look, youre wounded, Obi-Wan said. I know you cant fight now. But I could do it for you! I can hold back my anger and do what must be done. If Jemba were dead -
Nothing would change, Qui-Gon said wearily. Obi-Wan, cant you see? Killing Jemba is not the answer. Jemba is but one Hutt. There are always more, just as evil and greedy as he is. If you kill him, it wont stop his plan from going forward. Another like him, perhaps someone worse, will take his place. What we must do is try to teach these people that -
But he is evil, isnt he? Obi-Wan asked.
What Jemba is trying to do is wrong, Qui-Gon answered carefully.
Ive never seen anyone who was so evil, Obi-Wan burst out.
A sad smile touched Qui-Gons lips. and have you been so many places, young Obi-Wan?
Obi-Wan fell silent. He had much to learn. His heart cried out that Jemba was evil, and that evil had spread to enslave innocent victims. If anyone deserved to meet a bitter fate, it was the Hutt. But he would listen to Qui-Gon.
Ive seen far worse, Qui-Gon continued. If you think of killing in anger, you must know such thoughts come from the dark side.
Then how can we make him give the dactyl back? Obi-Wan asked.
You cant. You cant force people to be just and decent. Such qualities arise from within - they cannot be forced from without. For now, I choose to wait. Perhaps Jemba will have a change of heart. Or perhaps some darker fate awaits him. In either case, killing is not the solution.
But . . . youve killed before, Obi-Wan added hesitantly.
I have, Qui-Gon admitted, when there was no other choice. But when I kill, I only win a fight. Its a small, small victory. There are greater battles to be won - battled of the heart. Sometimes, with patience and reason and by setting a good example, I have won more than a fight - I have turned my adversary into a friend.
Obi-Wan considered this. Despite his pain and weakness, Qui-Gon was taking the time to explain his thoughts to Obi-Wan. Only yesterday, the Jedi most likely would have issued a stern order, then dismissed him. Something had changed between them.
Youre testing me, arent you, Obi-Wan guessed. Youve changed your mind. You are considering me for your Padawan. He tried to keep the eagerness out of his voice.
Qui-Gon shook his head. No, he said firmly. Im not testing you, Obi-Wan. Life tests you! Every day it brings you new chances for triuph or defeat. And if you pass the test, it doesnt make you a Jedi. It makes you human.
Obi-Wan stepped back, as if Qui-Gon had slapped him. With a rush of emotion, he saw into his own heart. He had been fooling himself. He had told himself that he had accepted Qui-Gons decision, that all he wanted was his respect. But somewhere deep inside, he had hoped that if he acted bravely and well on this mission, Qui-Gon would change his mind.
Now he saw the truth.
Qui-Gon saw the change in Obi-Wans eyes. The boy finally understood that his decision was final. He should have been relieved. The boys anger had left him. But something else was gone as well. Obi-Wans hopes for the future had also faded.
Qui-Gon watched as Obi-Wan turned and wiped his face with his sleeve. Was the boy crying? Had he hurt him so deeply?
But when Obi-Wan turned back, only sweat was gone from his face. Qui-Gon could see no glistening sign of tears. Instead, he saw the worst kind of defeat.
It stung him. After all his noble talk of winning the hearts of enemies, he realized that he had just crushed the heart of a boy who only hoped to become his ally.
Chapter 17
Obi-Wan left Qui-Gons cabin in a daze. He needed rest, but he could not seem to light anywhere. He tried his cabin, then the lounge. At last he wandered the hall aimlessly. He ended up near the engine rooms, staring out at the wasteland of the unnamed planet.
Five moons, in shades of red and blue, hung like ripe fruits out over a silent ocean. A flight of draigons hovered high in the air, asleep on the wing. The island shore was nothing more than a treacherous bit of waver-carved rock. Farther inland, dark volcanic peaks vented steam, and there draigons perched by the hundreds.
A door hissed open behind him. A moment later, Si Treemba stood by his side.
We have been searching for you, he said.
I needed to think, Obi-Wan answered. He was glad to see his friend. Si Treemba had showed him the greatest trust in the meeting with Jemba. It had forged their friendship, and they both knew it.
May we ask what you are thinking about? Si Treemba asked hesitantly.
I thought that my time in the Temple was hard in many ways, Obi-Wan said. The days were filled with study and effort. The very best was expected of us. I respected my teachers so much, and I thought I knew what I needed not only to survive, but to excel. Obi-Wan took a breath. Now I see that I had no idea what kind of evil the universe could show me. Ive never seen real greed before, not like the greed of the pirates or Jemba. It sickens me.
As it should, Si Treemba agreed. It is a horrible thing.
And I am wondering . . . do I have the seeds of the same greed? Obi-Wan wondered.
Si Treemba looked at his friend, puzzled. He saw great anguish on Obi-Wans face. Why would you ask that, Obi-Wan?
Because, all my life, Ive wanted to be a Jedi. I craved it so much. I was willing to fight for the honor, and I became angry when others stood in my way.
A Jedi gives much to his fellow men, Si Treemba answered thoughtfully. He protects the weak, he battles for the common good. We do not thin it is evil for you to want to do well. No, that is not greed.
Obi-Wan nodded, still looking out at the dark sea. He felt a deep longing to be home, back at the Temple, where things had clarity and purpose. Here, he felt lost.
It will be light in a few hours. You have done so much for me already, Si Treemba. But will you help me one last time?
Of course we shall, Si Treemba said promptly. But how?
Help me overcome my anger, Obi-Wan said. His fingers were curled into fists. He looked down at them and uncurled them, then gripped the frame of the view screen. I feel such rage toward Jemba. He wants to use other people for his own game, and I want to kill him for that. But I dont like the way I feel right now. Qui-Gon was tight. If I tried to stop Jemba, I would be doing so only to satisfy my own rage.
You seem calm, Si Treemba observed.
Something has just happened, Obi-wan told him quietly. I just realized something. Qui-Gon will never take me as a Padawan. He feels I am unworthy, and perhaps he is right. Maybe I wouldnt be good at it.
And you are not angry? Si Treemba asked, surprised.
No, Obi-Wan said. I feel strange, Si Treemba. Its as if a burden has been lifted from me. Perhaps I could be a good farmer. Ant to be good . . . to be a good person is more important than being a Jedi.
But what about Jemba? Si Treemba asked.
Yoda once told me that there are trillions of people in the galaxy, and only a few thousand Jedi Knights. He said we cannot try to right every wrong. All creatures must learn to stand for what is right, and not always rely upon the Jedi. Perhaps that is what the Arconans must do. I dont know about the future. But today I choose not to f ight.
Obi-Wan turned to Si Treemba. I asked you to leave your fellow Arconans to give us a chance to help you. I havent gone back on that promise. I wont see you sicken again for lack of dactyl. I stand with you, Si Treemba. Somehow, we will find a way.
Chapter 18
Qui-Gons Jedi healing techniques required him to put all his energy toward knitting his torn muscles and fighting infection. Yet time and again he found his thoughts returning to Obi-Wan, to the look of defeat on the boys face during their talk.
Why did they boy exert such a persistent tug? He had seen many boys over the years. Time and again he had gently informed than that they did not have it in them to become a Jedi Knight. He had done it compassionately, and saved
them from the difficult struggle of finding out to late. Hadnt he?
Resolutely, Qui-Gon settled himself on the sleep-couch. Regrets would keep him awake, and he needed sleep.
The ship was eerily quiet. Everyone was exhausted from the battle with the pirates. Qui-Gon heard nothing but the slap of waves on the shore and the soft rhythmic murmur of some animals skittering under the ship. He hoped the sound would lull him to sleep.
But he slept restlessly, due to pain or regret he could not say. Half-awake from a tortured dream, Qui-Gon rose and crossed for a towel to wipe his sweaty forehead. He drank some water, then rested his hot forehead against the cool transparisteel of his small portal. The craggy cliffs in the distance seemed to shimmer and vibrate. Was his fever getting worse? An odd, yellow mist blurred his vision.
He had risen too soon. Qui-Gon felt his way back to the sleep-couch. This time, he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
When he woke in the early morning, his right arm was stiff but better. A ships droid had mended and cleaned his robes. As he donned them, he realized he was hungry. It was a good sign.
As he headed for the kitchen, he saw that the ship was abuzz. Arconans rushed past him, carrying crates of their personal belongings.
He asked one what was wrong.
The tide is coming in, the Arconan said, and it may swamp the ship. The engines are all down for repair, and we wont get them up in time. We have been ordered to evacuate.
Evacuate? Qui-Gon asked in surprise. With the draigons outside, that sounded dangerous. Evacuate to where?
Into the hills, higher up on the island. The ships crew found some caves. We must reach them before the sun is in the sky and the draigons waken. The Arconans rushed away, heavy packs and boxes in tow.
From bad to worse, Qui-Gon realized. Shot down by pirates, wrecked on an alien world with Jemba holding a gun on them all. And now they would have to abandon ship, hide in caves with limed supplies. He could feel a rising danger. Perhaps the pirates would come to finish them off, or maybe theyd all starve, or die fighting one another. Perhaps the tides would rise so high that theyd flood the whole island.
The Arconans rushing past looked weary and battered. They had not gotten dactyl last night, and would have none this morning. Qui-Gon wondered how long they could go without it.
He strode to ClatHas cabin and found her hurriedly packing her belongings. Her door was open.
She looked up when he entered the room. Youd better hurry and pack, she said. The tide is coming in fast and the sun will rise soon. We have to get off the ship. She grinned as she pushed a strand of red-brown hair out of her eyes. He green eyes gleamed with mischief. Jemba is furious. Maybe hes afraid he wont fit in a cave.
Why is he so angry? Qui-Gon asked curiously.
ClatHa shrugged. Because its something out of his control, I suppose. At first he thought the crew was lying. But even he had to realize we could drown if we stayed. It was almost worth it just to see him back down.
Qui-Gon frowned. How soon do the Arconans need dactyl?
The amusement in ClatHas eyes instantly changed to worry. Some of them are already beginning to fade, she said quietly. If they dont get dactyl by tonight, theyll start to sicken and die.
So soon, Qui-Gon murmured. Something nagged at him, an instinct telling him he had overlooked something.
Jembas anger. The soft tread of animals. At solid cliff that moved. A yellow haze . . .
But no animals lived on the island, only draigons. The crew had investigated for predators shortly after theyd landed. And the haze hadnt been in front of his eyes. A cave in the cliff itself had been glowing with a faint yellow light.
Realization sparked within him. Tell the Arconans no to be afraid, he told ClatHa crisply. I think I know where the dactyl is. Ill be back as soon as I can.
Ill come with you, ClatHa offered instantly. Or we could round up some help -
Qui-Gon considered this. No doubt the dactyl would be guarded. But with hungry draigons hunting in the morning skies, too many people might attract their attention. Not to mention that Jemba would be on the watch. But one man dressed in dark robes, traveling alone . . .
Im sorry, ClatHa, he said. I know you will hate what Im about to ask you to do.
Ill do anything, ClatHa declared fiercely. We have to find that dactyl!
No, you dont understand, Qui-Gon said. Im asking you to wait.
Grelb the Hutt was good at following orders, especially when he knew that Jemba might eat his tail if he didnt. He sat on the rock midway up the cliffside, his blaster rifle at the ready. From here he had a good view of the ship. Jemba had sent him here for two reasons - to protect the miners and the Arconans as they evacuated the ship, and to make sure that no one climbed to reach the high caves.
Not that Jemba cared about the Arconans. But now they were his property. He was protecting an investment.
So far, the draigons that hovered up so high in the air and that perched on craggy rocks in the hills had not spotted the Hutts and Arconans and Whiphids. The early morning mist shrouded them from view. Yet Grelb kept careful watch, prepared to shoot any draigon that swooped from the sky - or any Arconan that gave him trouble.
Last night, darkness had provided a cover for the hard climb upward into the cliffs with the dactyl. Jemba had ordered the Whiphids to do most of the work. Their feet were heavily padded, and would make no sounds while they loaded the dactyl onto packs and snuck away from the ship. No one had seen them, Grelb was sure. The rest of the miners on the ship had been busy licking their wounds after the pirate fight, and the Arconans were to afraid to stick their noses out of their cabins.
It had a setback when the crew had ordered everyone off the ship and into the caves. Even Jemba had been worried that someone would stumble upon the cache of dactyl. It was lucky that they had forced the Whiphids to climb so high.
The mist was starting to break up, but gray clouds were rolling in from the west. The air smelled of salt and distant lightning. Grelb worried that the lightning would drive more draigons to ground here on the island.
As the Arconans emptied from the huge dark ship, one man caught Grelbs eye the Jedi Knight, Qui-Gon Jinn. He wore a cloak and hood, but Grelb instantly recognized him by his size and grace. Qui-Gon walked swiftly past the Arconans as though anxious to reach the caves. Yet it was not like him to hurry to safety.
Grelb fished a pair of macrobinoculars from his pocket and trained them on the Jedi. Qui-Gon climbed the hill quickly, without tiring. But instead of ducking into the first cave where the Arconans had already gathered, he continued to climb, inching along a narrow ledge in order to reach the side of the mountain without being see.
Grelb would have gladly slithered after the Jedi and shot him, but he dared not do so without Jembas permission. He reached down to his comm unit and pushed a button. In seconds Jemba answered.
The Jedi Knight is heading up the mountain, Grelb said.
Where is he going? Jemba barked. He sounded frightened, and for good reason.
I dont know. But I dont like it, Grelb answered.
Jemba hesitated only a moment. Take some reinforcements with you, and see to it that he doesnt return.
Si Treemba looked ill. The healthy greenish tone of his skin was fading to grey, and his small scales were beginning to flake off. Qui-Gon had been gone for hours now.
When ClatHa had told him that Qui-Gon had gone in search of the dactyl, frustration had filled Obi-Wan. He accepted that he could not be the Jedis Padawan, but couldnt Qui-Gon ask him for help, just once?
Of course he had not. Of course he had gone alone.
In the dark cave, Obi-Wan studied his friend with a frown. The Hutts and Whiphids had taken the only lights into a larger cavern, so that only reflected light had worked its way in.
The Arconans had settled into the back of the highest cavern - and what strange caverns they were. Each cave measured four meters wide at its narrowest point, and ten meters tall. Perhaps a dozen pa
ssages led to the surface. But tunnels opened wide into huge hollows in many places. Claw marks on the floors showed that an animal had dug them, yet the Arconans found nothing in the lair.
The Offworlders guarded the entrance to make certain no one fled. Stalactites hung overhead like glittering spears, and there was nothing to sit on but broken stones. In the dank shadows, the eyes of the Arconans glowed faintly.
Si Treemba was humming in Arconan. Others nearby did the same. Obi-Wan leaned closer to his friend.
What are you humming? he asked softly.
Star Wars - Jedi Apprentice #1 - The Rising Force Page 8