Джуд Уотсон - Jedi Apprentice 4 - The Mark of the Crown

Qui-Gon knocked on the door of Elan's dome, and she called out an invitation to enter. She was mixing salves and potions at a work table in front of a small, cheerful fire. Qui-Gon remembered Obi-Wan's suspicions. He had discounted them immediately. Had he been wrong to do so? Yet something in Elan felt pure to him, felt real. He could not imagine her capable of condemning someone to a slow death by poisoning. Qui-Gon pulled up a chair next to her.

"Don't get too comfortable," she said. "You're leaving this morning."

"The snow seems deep," Qui-Gon observed.

"We'll give you a swoop," she said. She began to rub herbs into a paste.

"My wounds still trouble me," Qui-Gon said.

"I'm making you some medicine," she answered, unperturbed. "Almost as good as bacta." She looked at him at last with a faint smile. "Do you think I will change my mind, Qui-Gon? If so, you don't know me."

"Ah," he said. "But I feel that I do."

The rumble of thunder suddenly rolled through the still air. The dome rattled with the power of it.

"Another storm," Qui-Gon said.

She grinned. "You'll make it."

The thunder rumbled again. Qui-Gon sat up straighter. When he looked at Elan, he saw that her smile had faded.

"That is not thunder," Elan said.

"Tanks," Qui-Gon replied.

When they ran from the dome, Dana was racing for them. "We're under attack," he said breathlessly. "It's the royal guard! I saw the insignia."

The rumble of tanks made the ground shake. Qui-Gon saw them approaching across a wide plain. The tanks were hampered by the deep snow, but they would make it.

The hill people didn't have much time.

"We've got to divert them from the camp," Elan cried.

A shadow fell over the snow. Qui-Gon looked up. A massive royal guard transport ship banked over the camp. It landed in a snow-covered meadow near the moving tanks. Ramps slid down around the transport. More tanks rolled down.

"Proton tanks," Qui-Gon said. "The troops are inside. They won't risk exposure if they don't have to."

"The camp will be leveled," Dana said.

Elan bit her lip, thinking. "The wind came from the northeast during the storm, right, Dana?"

"Yes, but…"

"Get everyone to the swoops," Elan ordered crisply. "Have Nuni take all the children and elders to the safe shelter. And send Viva to gather my medicines.

We… we could need them later. Quickly!"

Dana nodded and ran off. Elan turned to Qui-Gon. He admired her coolness in the face of such odds.

"And you, Qui-Gon," she said. "I will need every swoop for battle. I can't loan you one now. But you can escape down the back of the mountain that way." She pointed to a narrow trail that snaked past the domes.

"I'll take that swoop you promised me," Qui-Gon answered.

"But I can't-"

He activated his lightsaber and held the glowing green light front of her. "I will not leave your people unprotected," he said.

The hill people were ready to go — everyone over the age of ten and under the age of eighty sat astride swoops, Qui-Gon guessed.

Elan swung a leg over her swoop. Qui-Gon did the same.

"Here's the plan," she told the others. "First, we buzz the tanks. Make them angry. Keep out of cannon range. Remember the zoomball game?"

Everyone nodded. She grinned at them, meeting as many eyes as she could. "Make the tanks the goalposts. Fly as though you're up against the best zoomball players in the galaxy. We're going to try to drive them away from the camp. Then when they're good and mad, we'll head to Moonstruck Pass. "

"Moonstruck Pass?" Dana asked. "But-"

Elan grinned. "Exactly."

Qui-Gon didn't have time to ask what they meant. Elan gunned her engines and took off. Within seconds she was just a dot in the distance. The others followed.

Qui-Gon had driven speeders of various kinds and all sorts of flying vehicles.

This was his first experience on a swoop. The engine controls, as well as the steering, were on the handlebars. He gunned the engine as Elan had, picked up speed, then corrected his direction slightly by turning the right handlebar.

Immediately, the swoop flipped and headed for a tree.

"Lean away from the turn!" someone yelled to his left, and Qui-Gon leaned, holding on for dear life. Once he felt the swoop was under control again, he tried a more cautious correction. This time he was able to stay with the others, or at least keep them in sight.

Soon, Qui-Gon had a feel for the machine. It was more responsive than he was used to, but it was agile. Before coming in range of the ion cannons, he practiced diving and soaring and sharp turns, hanging in midair and then turning. Then he picked up speed to join the others, who were almost in range of the tanks.

Elan turned as he rode up next to her. "About time," she said. Her grin was friendly, as though they were out for a pleasure ride. "Think you can handle that machine?"

"I'll do my best," Qui-Gon answered, just as cannon fire ripped into a tree to his left.

"You'll need to," Elan answered. She turned her handlebars sharply to the right, avoiding another blast from the cannon.

The swoops spread out in formation, dived, and zoomed upward again. They charged forward to the tanks, then retreated. Soon, Qui-Gon caught the rhythm.

He understood why Elan had likened it to a game. The tanks were clumsy compared to the small, agile swoops. They were able to fly up high, then zoom downward into the mouths of the cannons, then turn away before the royal guard had a chance to fire.

Elan and Dana led one tank on a chase, losing it in some undergrowth. Qui-Gon heard a tremendous crash, and a cheer went up among the hill people. The tank had fallen nose-first into a ravine.

"Moonstruck Pass!" Elan called. She reversed her engines, hovering in midair as another cannon blast missed her by a hair. Then she zoomed down, heading down the mountain but constantly zigzagging from right to left, up and down. Qui-Gon followed the dizzying trail.

The tanks found it hard to keep up. Qui-Gon imagined that they had thought the battle would be simple. They would train their massive guns on the camp, destroy it, then capture the survivors. They did not expect the hill people to lead them on a chase down a mountain. If they were smart, they wouldn't follow. But the royal forces were rusty. They hadn't fought a tactical battle in generations.

Most of their job had been putting down minor insurrections in the cities. They were long on strength and short on tactics.

But Qui-Gon knew better than to underestimate those tanks. Once they caught Elan and the hill people, their firepower would eventually win the day. How could bowcasters and a few blasters — and one lightsaber — hold out against such weaponry?

Qui-Gon stayed at the rear of the swoops, trying to draw ion cannon fire from the speeding tanks. He had no idea where he was heading. The mountains on either side began to close in. He began to worry. Soon, the swoops would be unable to maneuver freely, and that was their only tactical advantage.

Sunlight hit the snow ahead, blinding him. Suddenly, the swoops in front of him slowed down. Qui-Gon quickly scaled back, drifting uncomfortably close to the tank at his rear. The Force surged around him, warning him, and he swung to his left. Cannon fire missed him by inches. He felt the hot breath of it sear his back.

Qui-Gon zoomed forward to catch up to the other swoops. The sun was so bright on the snow that he could hardly see. He used the Force to guide him. He realized that the trail he was following narrowed even further, the canyon ahead curved back in on itself from above, forming a kind of bowl. They would surely be trapped there, he thought. Had Elan lost her way? Or did she have a plan in mind? He just wished he knew what it was.