by Jude Watson
"But why don't you return?" Obi-Wan asked.
"The elections consumed my time at first," the Queen said. "Now I am too weak to travel. So my doctors tell me. And they are the best in Galu. Every day has been the same for me. Hope that I am recovering. Then despair. Now hope is gone. I'm just waiting."
Obi-Wan looked at her. The moons had risen higher, painting her pale face with a silvery cast. He saw again that she had once been beautiful.
"Don't look so sad," she told him. "I've accepted it at last. Now, will you help me rise? It's time for my tea."
Obi-Wan rose and held out his hand. Her grip was weak. He placed another hand under her elbow and helped her stand.
"Good night, Queen Veda," he told her as she moved off, her gown a whisper in the grass. "I'm sorry," he added softly, knowing she would not hear.
The Queen's words had moved him. Whether she was lying about wanting Elan to have her birthright, he didn't know. But he knew the Queen had spoken honestly about her illness and her fears. He could only imagine how terrible it must be to feel as though you are slowly losing your grip on life. To suffer, to feel better, and then to have that hope of life snatched away every evening as the moons rose....
Every evening. Obi-Wan sat up straighten The Force was telling him to focus. Wasn't there an odd rhythm to the Queen's illness? And hadn't she said she had felt better at her country estate?
Until the Council members arrived ...
The thought made Obi-Wan dizzy.
Was the Queen being poisoned?
Obi-Wan didn't hesitate. If his suspicions were true, there was no time to lose. Quickly, he rose to his feet and hurried through the gardens. He spied an old man dressed in the silver robes of a council member strolling through the trees, placing an occasional hand on the silver bark for support. His milky blue eyes were turned upward toward the moon. Obi-Wan doubled back before he was seen. He did not want to attract any attention. He sped noiselessly through the palace hallways to the Queen's chambers. He knocked softly on the door.
"It's Obi-Wan," he called.
Jono opened the door. "The Queen is taking her nightly refreshment," he said.
"Who brings it?" Obi-Wan asked. When Jono looked puzzled, he added quickly, "I was wondering if I could get some tea and something to eat at night."
"The kitchen servants bring it up," Jono answered. "I'll ask them to include you." He grinned. "I'll make sure you get the cook's best sweets."
"May I see the Queen?" Obi-Wan asked. "I just need a word or two."
Jono nodded and withdrew to an inner chamber. After a moment, the door opened, and he beckoned Obi-Wan in. The Queen was reclining on a sleep-couch, a tray with a teacup and a plate of fruit and sweets next to her on a small table. A small bouquet of flowers stood next to it.
"I wanted to make sure you were all right," Obi-Wan said, coming closer. "You seemed tired in the orchard."
"How kind of you." The Queen gave him a sad smile. "I'm a bit more tired than usual, I'm afraid. But don't worry about me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You have more important matters to attend to."
"I think not," he said gently. "Your well-being is very important to me, Queen Veda." He reached down and felt the teacup. There was only a small amount left. "Your tea is cold. Can I fetch you another?"
The Queen's eyes fluttered closed. "I've had enough," she said weakly. "You can tell Jono to take it away."
"You rest now," Obi-Wan said gently. He picked up the tray and moved to the doorway. When he slipped through, the outer chamber was empty. Good. He did not want to involve Jono in his plans.
Quickly, he carried the tray to his room. There, he poured the tea into an empty vial from his emergency medpac. He placed the vial and the rest of the sweets in a drawstring bag and slipped them into a pocket of his tunic. Then he brought the tray back down to the kitchens.
Tomorrow, he would have to find a substance analyzer. And he would have to do it without involving Jono.
"I'm worried about my Queen," Jono told Obi-Wan the next day as they walked down the streets of Galu. "I watch her grow weaker by the day. There is nothing the doctors can do. Nothing I can do."
"You are close to her," Obi-Wan observed. He had seen the affectionate way the Queen spoke to Jono. He certainly got more warmth from the Queen than Obi-Wan did from Qui-Gon. But then, Jono had served her now for eight years.
Jono bit his lip. He nodded. "It is so hard. Prince Beju doesn't come to see her. He's angry at her. And he says it upsets him to see her look so ill. He needs to focus on the election. How can a son be so cruel? He thinks only of his own feelings!"
They stopped outside a polling area that had been set up in a community hall. Obi-Wan had toured many of the polling areas in Galu. He spoke to those who would direct the voters to the private datapad terminals to cast their votes. He tested the datapads for accuracy. But he felt as though his visits were useless. He was not an expert on voting processes. On his first outing, he had contacted Qui-Gon by comlink to tell him how useless he felt. Qui-Gon had no sympathy.
"Your presence is enough," he said shortly. "Just let them see that the process is being monitored from an outside source. That will give the people trust in the system."
Obi-Wan turned to Jono. "Jono, would you mind waiting outside? I think it would be better. After all, people know you're a palace worker. I have to look neutral or they won't trust the voting."
"That's true," Jono said hesitantly. "But I am supposed to stay at your side...." His voice trailed off, but he smiled. "Of course you're right, Obi-Wan. I wouldn't want to jeopardize the elections. I'll wait over there in the plaza."
Obi-Wan thanked him and walked into the community center. He felt guilty deceiving Jono this way. But he couldn't involve his friend in his task. If the Queen was being poisoned, no one at the palace could find out that he knew. He had to trap the poisoner. If he needed Jono's help later, he would ask for it. First, he would need to consult Qui-Gon.
Obi-Wan headed through the community center and out a side door. He quickly walked down an alley into a side street. Then he doubled back in the opposite direction. On the way to the center, Obi-Wan had kept his eye out for info-data booths. They were dotted around Galu, and citizens used them to look up information on services available in the capital. There was one only a few blocks from the center.
The bright green light on top of the info-data booth glowed, telling him the booth was free. Quickly, Obi-Wan entered. He typed "substance analyzer" into the datapad. Within seconds, the screen flashed with several names. Obi-Wan accessed a city map, which pinpointed where each analyzer was located. One name, Mali Errat, had a lab close to Obi-Wan's location. He touched the screen, and a luminous green path showed him the route.
Obi-Wan hurried through the crowded streets. Jono would soon start to wonder why he was taking so long. The boy knew the streets of Galu well, and might search for him.
There was no answer to his knock at the address, and no sign outside. Obi-Wan pushed open the door cautiously and found himself in a tiny, cluttered room. One long durasteel table ran across the middle of it, touching the walls at both ends. The table was covered with equipment: tubes, vials, datapads, circuits, measuring devices, holofiles. Metal storage boxes crowded the floor, some stacked precariously, almost as high as the ceiling. Durasheets covered with data unfurled across the floor. Was this a lab, or a storage area for a lunatic?
"Hello?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Who's that?" A head popped up from behind a stack of storage boxes. It was a Galacian elder. Wisps of platinum hair covered his bald head, and his pale green eyes squinted at Obi-Wan. "What is it? Come on, then," he said impatiently, snapping his fingers. "State your business."
Obi-Wan walked closer and peered around the boxes. The man was sitting on the floor. Data printouts were littered around him and coiled in his lap. "I'm looking for Mali Errat-"
"Speak up, boy, don't whisper!"
"Mali Errat," Obi-Wan repeated, louder this time.
"Don't shout! I'm Mali. You look surprised to find me in my own lab, boy. Well, what do you want?"
"I have something I need analyzed-" Obi-Wan started.
Mali interrupted him again. "Another surprise. You're in a substance analysis lab. Therefore I would assume you have something to be analyzed. Obviously, I am brighter than I look." The old man chortled.
Obi-Wan looked at the cluttered lab, the rolls of data printout that coiled on the floor like snakes. "Maybe you're too busy-"
"Way too busy, it’s true," Mali snapped. "So don't waste my time. Show me your item."
He didn't really have a choice. There was no time to find a more conventional scientist. Or a more polite one. Obi-Wan withdrew the pouch from his tunic. He handed it to Malt.
Mali took out the vial of tea and the little round sweet cakes. "You want me to analyze your lunch?"
Obi-Wan held out his hand. "I can go elsewhere."
"Touchy young man," Mali muttered. "When do you need results?*'
"Right now," Obi-Wan said.
"It will cost you," Mali warned.
"I have credits," Obi-Wan said, showing him.
Mali took several credits from his hand. "That will do. Now." He stood. He was a small man, but still agile, Obi-Wan noted as Mali leaped over a storage box and pulled a stool up to the durasteel table.
Whistling through his teeth, Mali first took some crumbs from the cakes and inserted them into a scan grid.
"Cake,” he pronounced after a moment, reading the data. "Sweetener, rnuja, meal, coagulate..."
"Nothing else?" Obi-Wan asked.
Mali licked the residue off his fingers. "It's delicious." He popped the rest into his mouth.
Obi-Wan sighed. "Try the liquid."
Mali poured a drop from the vial into a scan grid. Seconds later, the grid flashed a graph with numbers and symbols.
"Ah," Mali murmured, straightening. "Fascinating."
"What is it?" Obi-Wan asked, leaning forward.
"Tea," Mali said.
"And?" Obi-Wan prompted.
"Water" Mali answered.
"And?" Obi-Wan asked.
Mali squinted at him. "Young impatient man, you must tell me what I am looking for. There are herbal compounds here, some acids, some tannins. But nothing I can tell is out of the ordinary. Unless you tell me what out of the ordinary event you are suspecting."
"Poison," Obi-Wan said reluctantly. .
"Well, there you are! Always better to say what you want at the outset. Otherwise, we waste time. No poison in the cake. A good thing, eh? I ate it!" Humming, Mali stared at the graph again. He pressed a few keys on the analyzer. Another graph appeared, then a stream of numbers and symbols.
"Well?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Interesting," Mali said. "There is one substance that's not identifiable."
"Is that unusual?" Obi-Wan asked.
He shrugged. "Yes, but not too. It's just a matter of searching other data fields for chemical compounds with the same structure. But that takes time."
"I don't have time," Obi-Wan said grimly.
Mali looked at the vial. He let out a whistle through his teeth. "Ah. I see your point. I still have to search, impatient young man. But for another credit, I will search fast."
Obi-Wan handed him the credit. He started for the door, then turned. "Can't you tell me if it could be poison?" he asked. "Just your educated guess."
"It's possible," Mali admitted. "I can tell you this, young man. Whatever it is, it doesn't belong in tea."
Before finding Jono, Obi-Wan found a secluded back alley to use his comlink to contact Qui-Gon. He didn't want to risk using the comlink in public. And he felt safer contacting Qui-Gon outside of the palace walls. He waited for long minutes. But Qui-Gon did not respond. He was out of reach.
Obi-Wan was on his own.
He trudged back to the community center. Jono was sitting on top of the wall that circled the plaza. His eyes were closed, his face tilted to catch the warming rays of the sun. The sun shines for such a short time during the Galacian day that Galacians take any opportunity to sunbathe.
"Sorry to take so long," Obi-Wan told Jono. "There were a few problems. Nothing major."
Jono jumped down from his perch. "I knew you would return. It's all right. I am used to waiting. I have waited for a friend for a long time, Obi-Wan."
The Queen had not exaggerated the difficult journey to find the hill people. At first, the roads had been clearly marked. Qui-Gon had found a ride in a speeder to the outskirts of the city. A kind farmer had taken him far on a turbo cart, a young teenager on his speeder bike. But as the roads grew worse and the landscape more desolate, there were no more rides to be had.
The hills rose before him on the third day. They were rugged and steep, climbing through dense forests. Occasionally he would come to a clearing and be met with the eerie sight of a group of large standing stones. The harsh beauty of the land grew as he traveled higher. The short days ended in sunsets that turned the sky to blazing colors. Then the three moons rose, casting a silvery glow over the pate rocks and twisted trees.
His comlink no longer worked. Qui-Gon hoped that Obi-Wan would not get into trouble back at the palace. He was anxious to find Elan, anxious to get back to Galu. He reached the summit of the first range of hills. Snow dotted the peaks. The only way through was a series of narrow passes. Qui-Gon felt exposed and vulnerable as he hiked through the narrow gorge. As he traveled, the sky darkened. The temperature dropped, and he unpacked his thermal cape from his survival pack. He could smell snow in the air. A storm was heading this way. He would have to find shelter soon.
Perhaps it was because his eyes were constantly moving, searching for shelter. Perhaps it was because the eerie silence pressed on him, the dark sky like a lowering curtain. Because Qui-Gon might not have caught the flicker of movement to his left if every sense hadn't been on alert. It could have been no more than a shadow flickering on a rock, or the stir of a leaf. But the movement had caught his eye and prepared him just a few quick seconds before the attack came.
The bandits zoomed down on landspeeders with mounted ion cannons on front and rear. Qui-Gon tossed his survival pack on the ground. He activated his lightsaber just in time to meet the first speeder. He dodged at the last possible second, sending the speeder careening into a tree. He was already turning to his left to slash at the driver of the second speeder. His blow connected, and the speeder lurched to the left, the driver hanging on as it barely missed the canyon wall. He righted it at the last second and zoomed back up to come around from the right.
Qui-Gon dove for cover. He could use the fact that he was in such a narrow space. They would have to come at him one at a time. While the speeders maneuvered to come at him again, he found a boulder close to a grouping of massive standing stones. The canyon was to his back, the stones to his left. The bandits could only approach from the right.
There were ten speeders... no, twelve - two more buzzed down from the sky. One came at him, ion cannons blasting. Chips of stone flew at him as he ducked and rolled, and stood again as the speeder zoomed past him. Qui-Gon used the momentum of his roll to slash at the driver from behind. He fell off the speeder, which zoomed out of control and crashed. The driver lay on the ground, unable to rise.
The second speeder was down, and the next one was right on its heels, cannons firing. This driver was more skilled than the others. He zigzagged from side to side, the cannon fire missing Qui-Gon by centimeters as he took cover from standing stone to standing stone. He reached out for the Force. He needed it. He felt it pulse around him, grow stronger. He drew it in.
He moved quickly, surprising the driver. He flattened himself on the ground as the driver overshot him, cannons shooting at the canyon wall now. He counted off seconds as the driver made a sharp turn to come back at him again. Qui-Gon left the cover of the stones and stood, lightsaber held high. This time, he aimed at the speeder's control panel. He struck a hard blow that he felt all the way u
p to his shoulder. The pain shot up his arm. The blow had cost him, but it disabled the speeder. The engine began to smoke, and the speeder tilted wildly. It hit the speeder bearing down on Qui-Gon. They both crashed to the canyon floor.
Then Qui-Gon saw the speeder off to his left. The driver was either reckless or skilled - it remained to be seen. He was coming fast, straight at the standing stones. The gap between them was small, barely enough for a speeder to fit through. They were spaced at irregular intervals, making it almost impossible to navigate between them.
Almost is the key word, Qui-Gon realized too late.
The daring driver made a hard left, turning the speeder sideways. It zoomed through the small opening. He reversed, hovered in midair, then made a sharp turn to the right. He zoomed through the next opening, barely clearing it. Now he had a split second to make a clear shot at Qui-Gon.
The Force helped Qui-Gon move, sending him leaping up on top of the boulder he had first used for cover. Another speeder was already bearing down on him. The driver was surprised by the sudden move, and made a hard turn to avoid Qui-Gon, even as his cannon boomed. At the same time, the driver midway through the standing stones fired his cannons. The two blasts collided in midair, sending an explosive charge that ricocheted off the boulder. The impact turned the boulder into a bomb, shattering it into large pieces of shrapnel that seemed to fly at Qui-Gon in slow motion.
Qui-Gon was hit in the chest. Badly. The impact knocked him backward, his lightsaber leaving his grip and flying meters away from him. He lay on his back, stunned. He could hear the engines of the speeders roaring as the two vehicles maneuvered to take their next shot. His mind whirled from his fall. He groped for his lightsaber. He knew one thing: He was caught between the two blasting cannons, out in the open. He called on the Force and summoned his lightsaber to his hand.