Дэйв Волвертон - Jedi Apprentice 1 - The Rising Force

“You’re lucky to be alive,’ the medic droid told qui-Gon. “But your wounds should heal in time. Are you sure you don’t want something to ease the pain?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” Qui-Gon answered, his voice steady. He turned his gaze to Clat’Ha. “Now will you get some rest?”

She nodded wearily. “I’ll check back on you later.” Clat’Ha left with the medic droid. The door hissed closed behind them.

Qui-Gon eased himself into a chair. Obi-Wan waited for him the speak or acknowledge his presence.

Qui-Gon’s blue gaze studied Obi-Wan keenly for a moment. “Obi-Wan, when you accelerated the ship, what thoughts did you have?”

“Thoughts?” Obi-Wan asked doubtfully. “I wasn’t thinking about much of anything. I was afraid of the pirates, and I just knew I had to get away fast.” He was too exhausted to care too much about giving the wrong answer. Better just to speak the blunt truth. Qui-Gon would approve of his actions or not. He was tired of trying to please him.

“So you didn’t think about the fact that you would tear the ships from the docking bays and kill hundreds of pirates in the process?” Qui-Gon asked in a neutral tone.

“I didn’t think about what I was doing,” Obi-Wan replied. “The Force led me.”

“Were you frightened? Angry?”

“Both,” Obi-Wan admitted. “I… fired on the pirates. I killed, but I didn’t do it in anger. I did it to save lives.”

Qui-Gon nodded, just the smallest of movements. “I see.” It was the answer Qui-Gon had been looking for. It demonstrated that Obi-Wan was growing stronger in the ways of the Force.

Yet Qui-Gon felt strangely dissatisfied. He tested his heart. Had he actually wanted the boy to fail his test? That would be a grave flaw for a Jedi.

But he couldn’t help himself. True, Obi-Wan had not let him down. He had bravely accepted the task of piloting the ship. Hundreds of lives had been in his hands, and he had not hesitated. He had done honor to his training.

Why was it so hard for Qui-Gon to trust him still?

Because I trusted another. I trusted Xanatos completely, and disaster was the result.

The sense of loss was so great that even now Qui-Gon felt it like a living wound. He’d rather have taken a dozen blows from the pirate chieftain’s vibro-ax than to ever feel such loss and pain again.

Obi-Wan stood before Qui-Gon, confused. He was tired he was almost weaving on his feet. Had he answered badly ot well? He didn’t know. All he could sense was a struggle in Qui-Gon that he didn’t understand. They had worked together to save the ship. A bond should have formed between them. But Obi-Wan felt they were farther apart than ever.

Should he speak? Perhaps if he asked Qui-Gon what he was thinking, the Jedi would tell him.

But before Obi-Wan could raise his nerve, a vicious pounding sounded at the door. Obi-Wan hurried to open it.

Si Treemba rushed in. The Arconan was out of breath, panting.

“What’s wrong?” Qui-Gon asked. He stood and tenderly stretched his shoulder, to see how well the glue had set.

“Please come quickly,” Si Treemba panted. “Jemba the Hutt has stolen our dactyl!”

“You won’t get away with this,” Qui-Gon warned Jemba the Hutt. He spoke calmly. Behind Qui-Gon, dozens of Arconans stood silent. Obi-Wan stood among them, watching the Jedi’s back Qui-Gon was sorely wounded, and seemed on the verge of collapse.

Jemba shook in amusement like a giant grey worm. “What can you do, puny Jedi?” he boomed gleefully. “No one can stop the great Jemba! You Arconans were too frightened to face the pirates. They hid, while my men fought and died. Soon these cowards will be my slaves!”

Jemba and his men had taken over the Arconans’ lounge. A wall of Offworld miners — Hutts, Whiphids, Humans, and droids — backed Jemba. The Offworlders stood ready for battle. Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and Arconans stared down the barrels of at least thirty blasters. Some of the Offworld thugs also held shields and wore armor. Jemba’s men obviously held more than just the Arconans’ dactyl. They held most of the ship’s weapons.

Obi-wan felt outraged. Beside him, Clat’Ha was livid. She held her hands down loosely, ready to draw her weapon. But she and the Arconans were greatly outgunned.

“It is not justice you seek, Jemba,” Qui-Gon tried to reason. “You hope only to satisfy your greed. Nothing will be solved this way. Put down your weapons.”

Qui-Gon called on the Force, trying to coax the Hutt to stop this madness. But for hours now he’d been focusing on his wound, trying to speed its healing, ignoring his own pain. He was too weak to persuade the Hutt.

Jemba waved a hand, as if testing the air. “Ooh, is that your powerful Force I feel? Ha!” he spat. “Your Jedi tricks are so puny, they make me laugh. They cannot work on the great Jemba. And look at you, Jedi. You’d don’t have the sense to stay out of the way of a vibro-ax. Anyone can see you are too frail to fight. There is nothing you can do to stop me.”

Fury filled Obi-Wan at the Hutt’s taunting. He leaped past Qui-Gon, directly in front of Jemba.

“I can stop you!” he shouted. He brought up his lightsaber.

Jemba’s huge eyes narrowed in anger. The thugs who surrounded him stood their ground. They weren’t afraid of a mere boy.

“What, Jedi?” Jemba said contemptuously to Qui-Gon. “You send a child to fight me? Is this some insult?” Jemba looked to his right and left, and raised a huge fist. If he let it fall, Obi-Wan knew that it would be the signal foe his men to open fire. Obi-Wan would not be able to deflect more than a few blaster bolts.

Qui-Gon reached out and touched Obi-Wan’s elbow. “Put your lightsaber away,” he said calmly. “You can’t win like this. If he opens fire, people will die needlessly. A Jedi must know his true enemies.”

Obi-Wan was shaking. He suddenly felt confused.

“What do you mean?” he asked. Sweat streamed down his face. “Which one of them is our enemy?”

“Anger is our enemy,” Qui-Gon said reasonably. He shot a glare across the room to Jemba. “Greed and fear are also our enemies. The Arconans can live without dactyl for awhile. You do not need to fight now. Haste is another enemy.”

Obi-Wan saw the wisdom in Qui-Gon’s words. He powered down his lightsaber, bowed to Jemba as if to a worthy opponent, and stepped back.

“A wise move, little one,” Jemba said. Then the Hutt broke into a deep laugh. He shouted across the room to the Arconans, “I want workers. And I am willing to pay well.”

The Hutt’s voice created a small echo. Behind Qui-Gon, Arconans began to mutter restlessly, almost a humming sound.

Clat’Ha shouted, “Offworld doesn’t pay its workers well!”

Jemba pounded his chest. “I will pay in food and dactyl!” he said. “For a day of labor, I will give my workers a day of life!”

“You offer to pay these people with dactyl that you stole from them?” Obi-Wan asked. He could not believe what he heard. It was all he could do to restrain from launching himself across the room to hack Jemba to pieces.

Jemba smiled hugely. “Indeed. Those who work for me will live. Those who do not will die. What better pay could I give?”

The Arconans had been talking softly. To Obi-Wan’s further amazement, some of them immediately began to stride across the room toward Jemba. More followed. Si Treemba hesitated, then joined them.

“Wait!” Clat’Ha commanded the Arconans. “What re you doing?”

The Arconans stopped and looked back. “We are miners,” Si Treemba said. “Whether we live under Jemba, or under another, it matters not.”

“But, Si Treemba, what of your freedom?” Obi-Wan asked. “You can’t just give it up!”