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

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.

The higher whine of a new engine came to his ears. As his lightsaber flew to his grip, Qui-Gon saw another vehicle zoom into the tight spaces among the standing stones. He recognized it as a swoop, a speeder bike with a powerful engine. The controls were located on the handlebars and on the saddle. Only the most daring riders could master such a vehicle. Just a slight touch could send it careening out of control.

He'd thought the first bandit was daring. The swoop driver bordered on reckless. But Qui-Gon read confidence and control in the way the vehicle moved, so fast it was almost a blur, banking right and left, hovering in midair and then reversing, zooming high and low to maneuver underneath the larger speeder.

Qui-Gon pushed himself to his feet. The pain hit him, red and searing, and he realized he'd been hit by a chunk of boulder in the leg as well. He called on the Force to help his body to respond, his mind to clear. The speeder was bearing down on him again. He leaped to avoid cannon fire and somersaulted over the low-flying speeder, striking down as he did so at the control panel. He heard the engine sputter and die, and the speeder crashed.

Qui-Gon hit the ground and dodged blaster fire from a pilot hurrying to help his comrade in the standing stones. But this driver was not so adept. He attempted to turn into the small gap and missed, hitting the stone and sending his craft wobbling as he struggled to right it.

Qui-Gon got a good look at the driver of the swoop. He wore a black cloth headdress that wrapped around his face. Only his eyes were visible. His gloved hands gripped the handlebars of the swoop as he expertly twisted and turned through the stones, running the speeder down relentlessly. Yet Qui-Gon could tell that the swoop driver was careful to allow the speeder enough maneuverability so that it wouldn't crash amid the stones.

Qui-Gon wondered what would happen to him once the swoop driver took care of the bandit on the speeder. The driver was surely a bandit, too. Qui-Gon would probably have his hands full again. The remaining speeders hovered, reluctant to help their comrade in the maze of standing stones, distracted from Qui-Gon for the moment. Qui-Gon stood, his lightsaber activated and at his side. He was ready.

At last the speeder made it through the standing stones, the swoop now so close that it was almost touching the speeder's tailpipe. Suddenly, the swoop turned and flanked the speeder, driving it toward Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon was surprised by the maneuver but not unprepared. He leaped aside as ion cannons began to fire. He could feel that his leg wound made him clumsy. He stumbled slightly, then twisted to keep the speeder in view.

The driver of the swoop kept one hand on the controls and picked up a bowcaster with the other. Effortlessly keeping the swoop on track flanking the speeder, he aimed and shot at the driver. The laser hit the driver in the wrist. Qui-Gon saw his mouth open in a howl that turned into a snarl.

The distraction was all he needed. Qui-Gon summoned the Force. He needed one last burst. The Force propelled him in a flying leap to the top of one of the standing stones. He delivered a stunning blow to the surprised speeder driver as he zoomed past. The speeder crashed into the canyon floor.

Qui-Gon leaped down from the exposed position. He heard the high whine of other swoops. He looked up and saw them like black insects against the gray sky, heading straight for him. There were at least twenty, and more were heading down the pass from the opposite direction. He would not be able to fight so many.

Qui-Gon watched as the speeder bandits took off. Some of the swoops gave chase.

Had he landed in the middle of a bandit war?

The lead swoop flew toward him. Its repulsorlift engines kept it airborne a few inches off the ground as the driver leaped off, his bow-caster pointed straight at Qui-Gon. There was no use fighting. Qui-Gon deactivated his lightsaber and waited.

"Who are you?" The voice was gruff. Qui-Gon was surprised at how young the bandit sounded.

"Qui-Gon Jinn. I am a Jedi Knight sent to contact someone."

The bowcaster was now pointed at his heart. "Who?" the bandit demanded.

Qui-Gon decided that it would do no harm to let the bandits know his mission.

Perhaps they could be bargained with. "The leader of the hill people," he said.

"Elan."

Slowly, the bandit unraveled the black headdress. A shower of silvery hair spilled over slender shoulders. A young woman stood before him. Her eyes were dark, the color of an evening sky, unusual for a Galacian. Her impatient gaze flicked over him, taking in everything about him and making it clear she was not impressed a bit.

"Well, at least you did something right," she said. "You've found me."

Elan tossed the headdress and bowcaster into the side compartment of her swoop.

She dusted off her hands on her trousers. "The standing stones are sacred to the hill people," she told Qui-Gon. "You almost destroyed them."

"I did not mean to."

"You chose the field of battle," Elan said crisply.

"I needed cover," Qui-Gon said.

Snowflakes began to twinkle down from the sky. Elan cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Ever hear of boulders? Trees?"

Qui-Gon resisted the temptation to argue. She was deliberately putting him on the defensive. "Do you know the attackers?" he asked instead.

She shrugged. "Bandits from the city outskirts. They make raids up here occasionally. There are always rumors in Galu that the hill people hoard gold.

The greedy fools think it's true. I wish they'd leave us alone. We don't bother them." She gazed at him stonily. "Who sent you to find me, and why?"

"Queen Veda sent me," Qui-Gon said.

She waved a dismissive hand. "Then go back to Galu. I don't recognize her authority."

"Don't you want to know what she wants?"

Elan crossed to the swoop and swung a leg over the saddle. "Something about the election, I'm sure. It's no concern of mine." She pointed back the way Qui-Gon had come. "The way back is that way. Don't stay in the hills. You'll be sorry if you do."

He didn't know if she was threatening him, or warning him against other bandit attacks. Another swoop flew toward them and stopped, hovering in the air. A tall young man with bluish skin gave Qui-Gon a quick glance, then turned to Elan.

"Bad storm coming."

"I know, Dana," Elan said, casting a worried eye at the sky. "When they come in, they come in hard."

As if to illustrate her words, the snowfall suddenly began. The flakes were like hard crystals, peppering Qui-Gon's exposed skin. He leaned over to retrieve the survival pack he'd dropped when the fight began. The pain cut him to the quick, and he let out an involuntary hiss.

"He's wounded," Dana said.

Elan frowned, annoyed. "I can't send you back, I suppose. Wounded, with this storm. You'd never survive. And night falls quickly in the mountains."

Qui-Gon waited. His wounds hurt him. But they would heal. Now it appeared that he was lucky to have them. Elan's conscience wouldn't allow her to send him on alone.

"One night," she warned him. "That's all. Now climb up behind me. And don't fall off. I don't want to have to rescue you again."

The hill people weren't overly friendly, but they were kind. Their encampment was made up of white domes of various sizes constructed out of a flexible material that was bolted to struts. Inside his small dome, Qui-Gon found every comfort and convenience — thick carpets and quilts, a glowing heater, a small kitchen and bath, even a datapad for his personal use.