|
|
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Qui-Gon thrashed on his bed, tossing his head back and forth. No. I won't fight him. He's my friend. You can't make me. No. "No!" He jerked sideways, cracking his head on the wall. "Ouch. What's that blasted noise?"
The Padawan rubbed his temple as he focused bleary eyes on his desk. He groaned. The message minder. How long had it been sounding? He stretched his arm toward the desk, reaching blindly for the touch pad controls. His fingers wrapped around a small medallion. He held it up and watched the light filter through the medallion's iridescent lightsaber design. He'd actually won. It wasn't a dream. He was champion of Battle Day. A grin stole over his face.
Qui-Gon let the trophy slip out of his palm and onto the desk. Still grinning, he touched the activate button for his messages. A miniature hologram of a decidedly grim Master Yoda appeared. Qui-Gon swung his feet to the floor and leaned forward, the smile wiped from his face.
The message was blunt: be in the Council's Roundtable Room in 15 minutes. The holo had logged in at 9:30 a.m. Qui-Gon glanced at the holo-cube's base. It was 9:40.
Blast. Blast. Blast. He flung the covers off and snatched his leggings from the floor. He hopped on one foot as he struggled to slip them on. Bumping against the chair, he grabbed it to stop from falling. He sat to pull his boots on. Grabbing his tunic and belt he dashed out of the room.
Qui-Gon tore out of his quarters and slid across the hallway to thump against the far wall. He found his legs and took off toward the nearest turbolift. "Excuse me." "Sorry." "Hold that lift!"
The Padawan crashed into the lift, sending two small students flying into opposite corners. "Sorry," Qui-Gon muttered as he fought with his inside-out tunic. He glanced up at the indicator lights. "No! I have to go up. Up!" He thumbed the stop button several times. When the doors slid open, the frightened students slipped past him and ran down the nearest hallway.
With the turbolift headed in the right direction, Qui-Gon hissed his relief. He had just pulled his tunic on when the door slid open. The Padawan stepped off and glanced around. Blast. Two floors short. And the lift was gone. He dashed toward the stairs.
Qui-Gon burst through the doors of the Roundtable Room at 9:51. He bumped into a chair and watched his belt flop onto the table, tipping over a goblet of water. He sighed and started to take off his tunic to mop up the mess.
"That won't be necessary, young man," the clipped tones of Hakola's Master, Trev Eit, stopped him cold.
With his tunic half off, Qui-Gon looked around the milky white table. Hakola Doy sat beside his Master, wearing a matching expression of disdain. Flanking Hakola was the house master from the juvenile boys' floor. Del something. Master Yoda was perched two chairs down from Del in his own form-fitted seat, wearing a particularly inscrutable look.
Qui-Gon pulled his tunic back on and fastened his belt in place while a cleaning droid vacuumed up the spilled water.
"Late, you are," Yoda commented.
Qui-Gon opened his mouth to explain, then thought better of it. "Yes, Master." He slid into the nearest chair and waited.
The sunlight streamed through the semi-circle of tall, narrow windows, throwing everything into stark relief. With the soft blue of the walls and floor and the white table, Qui-Gon could almost imagine they were meeting in the sky around a cloud. He crashed back to earth with his Master's softly spoken words.
"Missing, is Remcil Windu."
"What!" Qui-Gon jumped to his feet, pressing his fists into the table top. He stared at the deepening folds of Master Yoda's face, his halo of wispy white hair, his taloned hands grasping the top of the ever-present gimer stick. Anywhere but those truth-filled eyes. The sound of the Padawan's breathing filled the room.
Del's quiet voice hammered through Qui-Gon's mind. "He wasn't in his bed at this morning's 6 a.m. check. Since then, we've been searching the Temple, to no avail."
"Why wasn't I called to help?" interrupted Qui-Gon.
"All adults are involved in the search," Del explained. "We didn't want to alarm the children."
"I don't understand. Do you think he's been kidnapped?" Qui-Gon asked.
"Ran away, more likely." Hakola's voice was harsh.
Qui-Gon straightened and crossed his arms. "Remi wouldn't run away."
"We think he might have," Del said. "I had two different boys report to me, last night, that Remi seemed distraught. I blame myself for not following up on their comments and seeking him out."
The Padawan's brows furrowed. "Distraught? What are you talking about?"
"You didn't even notice, did you?" Hakola sneered. Qui-Gon glared at the other Padawan as he continued, "I was at the honor table last night, too. You had the kid up there, not three chairs from you. And you didn't even notice."
"Notice what?" Qui-Gon started to prowl around the room.
"The way the kid wilted under the table. Tell me, Jinn, did you even notice when he left?"
"Left? Remi left? When?"
"Hah. I knew it. You were so full of yourself last night, you didn't notice anything or anyone. It's amazing your head didn't go supernova and explode."
"Shut up, Doy. Just shut up." Qui-Gon ground out the words, flexing his fists.
"Enough!" barked Trev Eit. "Save it for the arena."
Qui-Gon paced to the nearest window and stared out at the traffic flowing through the skies. He pushed past his ragged emotions to touch the Force, wrapping it around him like a life preserver.
"Upset, young Remcil was, yesterday morning," Yoda said.
"Yes," Qui-Gon replied mechanically. "When we were practicing. His family said he would have to go home if he didn't become a Padawan." He paused. "But not for two years. He still has two years."
"Told the truth, he did," said Yoda, "but not all of it."
Qui-Gon continued to stare at the Coruscant skyscape.
"Apparently," Del picked up the narrative, "his family has been very involved with the Temple in the past and knows our traditions. His birth father stipulated that Remi could stay on another two years if he placed in the battles."
Qui-Gon blinked. "But Remi was knocked out first round."
"That's right," Del said. "His family does not foresee that he will achieve knighthood, so they want him home."
The tall Padawan pivoted on his heel. "Knighthood isn't all there is to the Jedi Order. There are healers and loremasters. Any number of choices for a Force-sensitive being."
"Set, his heart is, on being a Jedi Knight," Yoda said. "Idolizes you, Remcil does. Your future, he desires. Agrees with him, his family does."
"So he's run away," Qui-Gon stated. "And it's all my fault."
"His choice, it was, to flee. Helped him, we would have, if asked, he had."
"But he's my friend, my responsibility." Qui-Gon turned back to the window. "And I'm going to find him."
"Expected this, I did," Yoda commented.
In the silence that followed, an awareness slowly grew in the Padawan's mind. He turned to face Hakola, who sat, arms crossed, white eyebrows arched, a smirk planted on his lips.
"What's he doing here?" Qui-Gon bit out.
"Aid in the search, Hakola will," Yoda replied.
"No." Qui-Gon slapped his hand on the table.
Yoda's gimer stick cracked across his knuckles. Qui-Gon hissed and shook his hand, as he stared belligerently at his Master.
"Do as I ask, you will," Yoda said.
"I will do as I must," retorted Qui-Gon. Their eyes locked and held. Finally, Qui-Gon broke the standoff, adding softly, "And if that includes working with Hakola, so be it."
Through the Force, the Padawan sensed his Master's thanks. Qui-Gon nodded slightly and returned to staring out the window, only this time his eyes scanned up and down the broad avenues, searching, searching. Where would Remi go? The city-planet offered more hiding places than could be imagined.
"He hates the dark," Qui-Gon said, almost to himself, "So I don't think he would head toward the surface. He loves the museum. And anything to do with Jedi lore." He paused. "It would be a place to start, I suppose."
"The planetary museum? Odd place to hide," Trev Eit said. "Why don't you two check it out, if only to rule it out."
The Jedi Master tossed each Padawan a comlink. "Make sure you keep in touch."
Qui-Gon sighed. Oh, Remi. Why didn't you talk to me? Shame draped over his shoulders. Hakola was right. Pride had blinded him to the pain of his friend.
"Meet at the docking bays, you can. A speeder awaits. Now, talk to my Padawan, I must," Yoda said.
As Hakola followed his Master and Del out of the room, he grabbed the door jamb and looked over his shoulder at Qui-Gon. "Thirty minutes, Jinn. Try not to be late this time."
Yoda pointed to the chair beside him. As Qui-Gon sat, the old Master said, "Let go of your emotions, you need to. On the mission, you must concentrate."
"Yes, Master." Qui-Gon thumped the table. "But I feel so responsible. So, so guilty. He was hurting and I didn't see it. I was so caught up in being the hero. Hah. Some hero I am."
"Mmmm. Blind us, emotions do." Yoda paused. "Powerful, you are, Qui-Gon. Cautious, you must always be. Pride, to the Dark Side, can lead."
"How? This isn't the first time you've told me I'm a powerful warrior. Is it wrong to be proud of your strengths?"
"When, leads it, to boastfulness and arrogance, yes." Yoda gently tapped Qui-Gon's thigh with his gimer stick. "Strive always, to use your strength, the weak, to help. Never, for your own gain."
Understanding lit Qui-Gon's eyes. "The Jedi Code. Serve, never rule." The Padawan's expression turned quizzical. "What happens if a powerful Jedi seeks power, Master?"
Ears flat, Yoda replied, "Finds a base, the Dark Side does, from which, evil, it can spread."
Straightening, the Padawan declared, "I will never let that happen to me."
"Keep always, the Force as your guide, and the truth, your statement will be. Now, find Remcil, you must."
Qui-Gon jumped to his feet. "I'll make you proud of me, Master." His cheeks flushed. "Um. You know what I mean. I'd, I'd better go."
Yoda's soft chuckle followed him out of the room.
His cloak flowing around him, Qui-Gon swept onto the docking bay platform, buoyed by the admiring glances he had received all the way down from his quarters. He strode with a confidence he usually only felt in the practice arena. Spotting Hakola, Qui-Gon veered toward where the other Padawan waited beside a speeder, a little four-seater similar to the Coruscant taxis that clogged the traffic lanes.
A cable snaking across the deck caught the rim of Qui-Gon's boot and he stumbled forward, grabbing a dura-crate to stop from falling. Hakola's laughter grated across his nerves.
"Well, Jinn, I was about to ask if you wanted to fly, but I think I will. If the great champion has no objections, that is."
Qui-Gon gritted his teeth and shrugged.
Hakola continued his verbal prodding. "Where's your girlfriend? Didn't she want to come and see you off?"
"What's it to you, Doy? Jealous?" Qui-Gon struck back. When Hakola's face darkened, Qui-Gon knew he had scored a hit, but he wasn't sure he liked it.
Hakola met Qui-Gon's gaze. "Jealousy would be a waste of energy. The lady only has eyes for you." He jumped over the side of the speeder and settled behind the controls.
Qui-Gon gawked at him. "You have a serious case of space dementia. Tahl and I've been friends forever."
"Right, Jinn. Let's go."
*
"Look, Jinn, we've searched the whole museum. There's no sign of the kid. Let's head back to the Temple and see if anything's turned up." Hakola wheeled toward the main entrance.
"No." Qui-Gon glared at Hakola's white head until he turned back with a grimace of irritation.
Qui-Gon stretched to his full height and crossed his arms. "Remi was here. I'm sure of it."
"Well, he's not here now."
"We're missing something. I want to re-check the Jedi exhibit hall."
"It's a waste of time, Jinn." Hakola planted his hands on his hips.
Qui-Gon took an abrupt step forward and frowned at the other Padawan. "Now, Doy."
Hakola rolled his eyes. "Fine." As he brushed by the tall Padawan he muttered, "Gundark."
In the middle of the Jedi exhibit, Qui-Gon slowly pivoted on his heel, scanning the assorted objects and holograms. Hakola prowled around the perimeter, glancing under tables and checking behind displays. Qui-Gon felt frustration building. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to touch the Force, but it proved elusive.
With a sigh, he drifted to a bench and sat down to gaze at his favorite display. The two-dimensional hologram depicted a Jedi standing with one foot propped on a rock, as he leaned forward with his forearm resting on his raised knee. The wind blew through his robes and long hair, sweeping them back. Qui-Gon gazed at a face marked by glittering eyes and hawklike visage and pronounced facial scar that disappeared into a full beard.
"Who is it?" Hakola slid onto the bench.
"Arastri der Gorn. Hero of the Nimrasian Conflict of three thousand years ago. His leadership saved Coruscant from falling into the hands of a vicious dictator. He's depicted at the base of Mount Lithui, where the final battle was won."
"That mountain that's a planetary preserve over in Sector 23?"
Qui-Gon nodded.
"He looks a little like you, Jinn. An older you. Maybe he was some long lost relative."
Qui-Gon didn't answer as he stroked his smooth jaw -- the display absorbed his complete attention. There was something ... Moments passed as the Padawan studied the holo.
"Has he told you anything, yet?" Hakola's sarcasm skimmed the surface of Qui-Gon's mind.
Qui-Gon shook his head absently. He stood and pointed at the picture, his index finger waving as he sought to put words to what he was feeling. Suddenly he whirled to face Hakola, his arm stretched behind him as he continued to point at the display. Excitement coursed through his entire being.
"Mount Lithui. That's where Remi went."
Hakola scoffed. "Why would the kid travel two hundred kilometers to go to some dumb mountain? It's not logical."
"This whole thing stopped being logical the moment Remi ran away," Qui-Gon retorted. "Besides, Master Yoda said the boy idolizes me. So he heads for a site that commemorates a Jedi that I happen to idolize. It makes perfect sense." Qui-Gon's cloak swirled around his legs as he spun to face the holo. "My feelings tell me that he's there, Hakola."
"Great. So I'm supposed to contact Master Eit and tell him we are chasing a feeling."
"Well, we are Jedi, after all. But, tell him whatever you want. That's where I'm going."
"Anyone ever tell you that you're stubborn, Jinn?"
Qui-Gon snorted softly. "As a gundark."
The two young Jedi leaned against the side of the speeder, arms crossed, surveying the rugged, overgrown mountainside. Tall trees, wreathed in vines, blocked any view of the higher slopes, where the trees gave way to shrubs and rocks. A smattering of birdsong drifted from drooping branches, a weak counterpoint to the humming city at their backs.
"Did your holo Jedi tell you where on the mountain to find the kid, Jinn? We're looking at a lot of terrain to cover." Hakola shook his head slowly. "This is crazy."
"I think the rules are really strict about only letting people with permits wander off the path. If the sensors don't detect a laser tag on you, your circuits get fried until the wardens come along to scoop you up." Qui-Gon ran a hand through the brown stubble on his head. "So all we really have to do is search the trails."
"The sign says there are over 60 kilometers of trails." Hakola threw himself onto the patchy grass. "I have to take a break. Have a bite to eat."
Qui-Gon's stomach growled at the suggestion. He sank to the ground, back pressed against the speeder. Hakola tossed him a nutrient bar. Qui-Gon unwrapped it and sniffed the mottled brown bar. He took a nibble and grimaced.
"I think these things were packaged when Master Yoda was my age," Qui-Gon muttered as he ripped a chunk off and started chewing.
"I don't know why your Master puts up with your attitude, Jinn."
Qui-Gon studied the other Padawan for a moment. "Master Eit is fairly strict?"
Hakola shrugged and looked away.
"And has a real talent for sarcasm," Qui-Gon noted. "If that's where you learned it from."
A ripple of compassion brushed the tall Padawan's mind. "Am I right to think that he might be rather harsh at times?"
A flush painted Hakola's golden cheeks. "Keep your thoughts to yourself, Jinn. Master Eit and I do just fine. At least we don't look like a cartoon vid -- the small master with his clumsy student towering over him."
Qui-Gon smiled sadly. "And you do actually get to grow your hair out more than a measly two centimeters." He eyed the older Padawan's softly curling white hair with a twinge of longing.
Jumping to his feet, Qui-Gon took a long drink from a canteen and tossed it onto the speeder's back seat. "None of this is helping find Remi. And I sense ... a growing urgency in the air."
"I think we should call the Temple. Get more searchers out." Hakola stood and brushed dry grass off his cloak.
"No time." Qui-Gon strode off.
Two hours of wending their way up and down rocky trails, and enduring snide comments every time he stumbled even the tiniest bit, had stretched Qui-Gon's patience to the limit. What had Master Yoda been thinking, sending this grating Padawan along with him? If it was meant to be a chance to heal the sore feelings from Battle Day, it was having the opposite effect. Qui-Gon shunted aside the image of his large hands wrapping around Hakola's neck. He was sure he could cover more ground if he were by himself. And he wouldn't have to put up with a constant barrage of verbal jabs about his clumsiness.
Frustration bunched in the Padawan's muscles. They were close. He was sure of it. He scanned ahead to where the trail curved down the mountain, before opening into a clearing of some sort. He never saw the branch. It whacked him on the left eyebrow. Qui-Gon snapped his head to the right and half turned as he stopped to press his fingers against the welt.
Hakola gave him a shove. Qui-Gon stumbled on the incline, tripping on a root. He tucked his head in and rolled on his shoulders to land on his hip. He sat up and glared at the other Padawan, working his jaw as he fought to push aside rising anger.
"What was that for, Doy?" Qui-Gon snapped.
Hakola shrugged. "Couldn't resist. Though Force knows, you don't need any help to look like a fool."
Pushing himself up, Qui-Gon sighed. "You can leave any time you like. I don't need you."
"Not a chance. Master Eit said I have to help look for the kid. So, I help."
Qui-Gon limped toward the clearing that ended in a tall wall meant to keep the city at bay. The semi-circle was devoid of anything larger than a pebble. A wide trail hugged the wall, leading right, away from the clearing, back toward the main entrance. A turnaround for the wardens, Qui-Gon decided.
The left side of the clearing was flanked by a force-field fence. The hair on his arms stood at attention as excitement brushed over his nerves. His stride lengthened as he approached the fence. It barred access to a cleft that sliced into the mountain and ended in a gaping square opening. The trail leading to the cave was wide and bare. Qui-Gon crouched, running his fingers over fresh tracks.
Hakola moved to stand beside him. "Looks like an abandoned mine."
"Not abandoned. Someone has found a use for it." Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes seeking the force-field controls.
He spotted them and strode over to the park's ferrocrete wall where the touch pad was embedded. Fingers skimming over the controls, Qui-Gon reached for the Force, seeking the path of the last hand to use them. He smiled and tapped in a code. Behind him, the humming cut off suddenly.
The Padawan paced back toward the mine. Hakola snagged his sleeve and spun him around.
"We're not going in there, Jinn. Not alone." His golden eyes crackled.
"Let go, Doy. That's where Remi is, or was. I'm going in."
Hakola's grip tightened. "I have a bad feeling about this."
Nostrils flaring, Qui-Gon replied, "So go back to the Temple."
"Let go of your anxiety for the kid, Jinn. It's blocking you."
"Don't presume to lecture me about the Living Force, Doy." He shook his arm free. "Get out of my way."
Hakola crossed his arms. "No."
Anger skimming the edges of his mind, Qui-Gon struck a blow to Hakola's chest, landing him on his backside. A tremor laced his words. "You can leave or you can make yourself useful and get the speeder. I don't need your help, Doy. And I don't want it. Keep your worry to yourself. Nothing can touch me."
Qui-Gon stepped over the fallen Padawan and stalked toward the mine entrance, blocking his ears to Hakola's receding warning to not be a fool. He knew what he was doing. He knew who his ally was -- and it certainly wasn't Hakola Doy.
Four meters into the pitch-black void, the tunnel branched left and right. Qui-Gon paused at the T-intersection, glancing both ways. Several meters down the right branch, a flickering bank of glowlamps were strung along the base of the right wall -- dim enough they'd never be spotted from outside. Someone didn't want their presence here advertised. Unease tightened his gut. What had Remi happened upon?
Qui-Gon broke into a jog as the tunnel arched to the left. Ahead, light intensified. He burst into a large cavern, brightened by a profusion of floating orb lights. Crates were stacked along the perimeters of the grotto and several grav sleds were standing empty in the center area. Qui-Gon slowed, scanning the cavern, spotting several human forms on the far side. Smugglers.
A grumbling snarl spun him around, as he snatched his lightsaber, keeping it unlit. Two reptilian Trandoshans advanced on him from recesses near the cave entrance. They leveled blasters at his stomach, lipless mouths stretched back in a cruel approximation of grins. Qui-Gon moved backwards into the cavern, eyes flicking between the two beings. The vise tightened its grip.
"Looks like we've got more company."
Qui-Gon wheeled to see three humans closing ranks on him. Turning constantly as the circle tightened, the Padawan divided his attention between the beings and searching what lay beyond.
"Lost something, Jedi?" The same voice. Coming from the narrow-shouldered one with dirty blond hair.
"Where's the boy?" Qui-Gon bit out. He watched the nearest Trandoshan out of the corner of his eye.
The skinny one sniggered.
Beside him, a red-haired human that was built like a Gamorrean, spoke out. "Ya mean that kid that won an all-expense paid trip?"
Skinny sneered, "Yup. To a sunny holiday resort."
"Where he'll be waited on hand and foot," Red continued.
The third human, tall with bulging biceps and a belly to match, expelled a hoot and added, "By the Hutts!"
A rising horror engulfed Qui-Gon's thoughts. His eyes jumped from face to face. "Where is he?"
"Told ya. He's gone," Skinny replied as he waved his blaster at the Padawan. "If you'd been a little quicker, you could've joined him."
"In slavery? To the Hutts?" Qui-Gon spun on his heel, igniting his green blade. The horror was metamorphosing, changing into something ... darker. "You would sell an innocent boy into slavery? Filthy scum."
"I'd cut him into little pieces if it was more profitable," jeered Skinny. "You're pretty mouthy for someone outnumbered five to one. And you're starting to annoy me." He paused and curled his lip. "Maybe I should call ahead and have them blast a hole through that little brown head."
A supernova engulfed Qui-Gon. Rage bellowed out of him as he launched himself backwards and landed a meter from the nearest Trandoshan, pivoting to slice the being in half. He spun again, slitting the second alien open from shoulder to navel. With a snarl, he lunged, impaling the tall human, spinning his body around and shoving it at Skinny. A laser bolt lanced past the Padawan. He wheeled and used his long reach to cut down Red. Qui-Gon kicked out sideways, his boot propelling Skinny back into a pile of crates. He grabbed the man by the scruff of the neck and hoisted him off the ground, pressing the hilt of his powered-down lightsaber into the man's windpipe.
"I think we'd better have a little talk," Qui-Gon whispered.
Fear-bulged eyes and labored breathing answered the Padawan. Qui-Gon sneered and ground his weapon a little deeper into the man's neck.
"You'll tell me where the boy is, or I'll gut you and use your own entrails to strangle you."
The man glanced to the ground and back. He rasped out a set of coordinates. Contempt washed over the young Jedi. He cracked the man's temple with his lightsaber and stepped back to watch the body crumple at his feet. He nudged it. Hope I killed him.
Leaving the carnage behind, the enraged young man raced toward the tunnels. He bolted into the waning sunlight, bowling over a body near the entrance.
"Hey!" Hakola's offended cry followed the Padawan as he dashed down the short path to where the speeder floated, powered up and ready to fly.
Qui-Gon catapulted over the side and slid behind the controls. He grunted. Doy had done something right.
"Blast it, Jinn! Wait for me!"
Hakola's shout quickly faded in the distance.
