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The ship skimmed above the treetops, cutting through banks of mist that were dissipating quickly as the sun broke over the horizon.
Qui-Gon pointed. "Over there. It looks like we might be able to squeeze into that clearing."
Hakola pulled the ship into a gentle bank. "This is ridiculous. Why don't we just land at the main settlement's port?"
"You said that is probably what Master Eit did -- took the most direct course of action. If he's landed in a pot of Gamorrean stew, we don't want to do the same thing, do we?"
Hakola shrugged and leveled out the craft.
"You're headed to the wrong clearing. Bear left a little."
Hakola clenched his jaw. "Do you want to fly this thing?"
Qui-Gon sat back. "No thanks. I prefer to deal with living things."
Hakola shot Qui-Gon a sideways glance. "You can't fly."
Indignation flared, darkening the tall Padawan's eyes. "I can so."
"Right, Jinn."
"What part of 'prefer' don't you understand, Doy?"
"So, fly." Hakola clasped his hands behind his head.
The ship immediately started tracking down and left. Qui-Gon blinked his surprise, then reached out and switched control to his panel. A loud scraping ran along the lower spine of the ship, pulling a few muttered Huttese curses from Qui-Gon's lips as he maneuvered the craft back to its heading. Over the clearing, he throttled back to minimal impulse and activated the repulsors, allowing the ship to settle to the ground with only a slight rocking. He powered down all systems before turning to glare at Hakola.
"Do that again, Doy, and all you'll be is so much bantha fodder."
"Such un-Jedi-like sentiments, Jinn. What are you going to do? Zap me with the Dark Side?"
Qui-Gon's reply was low and grim. "You haven't a clue what you're talking about. Don't even joke about it."
An uncomfortable silence squeezed into the cockpit. After several moments, Hakola sighed. "You're right. I was out of line. Let's get going."
Outside the ship, the two Padawans scanned the clearing. They debated about the advisability of remaining there, given that the landing gear had sunk into the water-logged ground, almost up to the struts. Deciding that it wasn't likely to sink further, they retrieved survival packs from inside and sealed the ship.
With the camo-net in place, they set out for the nearest settlement, and were immediately engulfed by the jungle that blanketed most of the planet. Trees soared into the air, straight and tall, with no lower branches. Immense vines dangled from the tree limbs to brush on the ground, while others sprouted from the earth, wrapping around trunks and the hanging vines. The ground was a roiling mass of roots and creepers, with water collecting in most of the recesses. Here and there, short broad trees blocked the way, with branches that had drooped to the ground and took root, allowing the tree to spread.
Slogging through the thick jungle for almost four hours left Qui-Gon feeling like his joints were freezing up. Scrambling over a meter-high root mass, his foot caught in a crack and he tumbled forward, landing amongst the vertical branches of one of the short trees. A loud screech sounded in his ear as a startled bird took flight in a blur of yellow. He groaned and pulled himself up to sit on a broad root.
Hakola sank onto another root a meter away. "Don't turn clumsy on me now, Jinn." He stretched out his legs and leaned against the smooth trunk of a tall tree. "Twenty-five kilometers didn't look so far on the ship's navigation display. How much further?"
Retrieving his chrono from his belt, Qui-Gon switched to odometer mode. "We've come 18 kilometers." He paused. "Not bad, considering the rough ground." He grimaced and massaged his calf.
"What I wouldn't give to have a re-molecularizing transporter." Hakola sighed wistfully and started chewing on a nutrient bar.
"Give me a break. Those things only exist in really bad holovids," Qui-Gon scoffed. "Though I hear they have the de-molecularizing part down pat. Unfortunately, they keep running out of volunteers, so haven't been able to figure out how to put the pieces back together again. Maybe you could sign up."
Qui-Gon ducked to avoid a nutrient bar winging through the air. He retrieved it and popped half of it into his mouth, speaking around the chewy food. "Got any Sullustan pudding you could toss this way, while you're at it?"
The tall Padawan shrugged at the sharp look flung his way, and stretched out, trying to find a comfortable position. Chattering grew louder above them, as the wildlife became accustomed to the human presence. The occasional cawing pierced the warm air. Qui-Gon felt his eyes slipping closed. A flash of orange above and behind Hakola snapped Qui-Gon's eyes open, but they just as quickly started to close again. A bird, he thought. Five minutes. Just ...
Something slithering over his thighs startled Qui-Gon awake. His eyes sprang open and he watched an enormous snake glide over him and disappear into the hidden recesses of the short tree that he rested against. He glanced at a still sleeping Hakola , then up. The heavy canopy made it difficult to tell, but he judged they had been dozing for about an hour. He sighed. Time to push on. At least it wasn't much farther.
An hour later, the two young Jedi stood at the edge of a clearing choked with meter-high grass. Hakola struck out across the glade, with Qui-Gon a few steps behind. Ten meters out, Hakola disappeared with a surprised cry. Qui-Gon dove forward, landing prone beside Hakola, who had sunk up to his waist in a bog hidden by the grass. As he struggled, he slipped a little further into the mire. Qui-Gon rolled until he felt like there was fairly solid ground under him. He stretched out and grasped the golden hand Hakola was waving. Several rounds of grunting and pulling and inching back released the older Padawan from his slimy prison with a loud sucking sound. Both Padawans lay on the semi-solid ground, mud-covered and panting, as they stared up at the overcast sky.
Finally, Qui-Gon rolled over and pushed himself to his knees, then to his feet. He took two steps and felt the ground give way. Flinging himself forward, he landed in the muddy water stagnating at the base of the grass. A smell not unlike the Temple's compost heap splashed over him, clinging to him with the mud. Hakola crawled up beside him and jerked his head for them to proceed. Qui-Gon wiped his face on his soggy sleeve and nodded. A combination of crawling and creeping on their stomachs with elbows sinking into the soft earth, brought them across the bog. As they pulled themselves onto solid ground, it started to rain a warm, heavy drizzle. Qui-Gon held his hands out, catching water to wash his face, and looked back the way they had come. Already the sturdy grass was beginning to rebound, hiding any signs of their passage.
Under the umbrella of the jungle foliage, the drizzle pooled in the upper layers and fell in large drops that pelted the Jedi relentlessly. By the time they reached the clearing that opened to reveal a settlement, Qui-Gon was soaked through, and thinking wistfully about his nice dry quarters back at the Temple. He was surprised to see the rain had stopped; it would probably drip for hours yet under the trees.
The two Padawans crouched in the shadows, puzzling over the dome force-field that enclosed the settlement. As they watched, a boy, perhaps four or five years younger than they, wandered from between two buildings and approached the force-field. The young Jedi exchanged glances and emerged from the jungle to stride boldly toward the boy. As they drew closer, the boy noticed them and froze, his eyes growing large and round.
Qui-Gon motioned for the boy to come closer. He took one step and stopped, his limbs trembling beneath his baggy clothing. "A-are you J-Jedi?" His voice was high, shaky. When Qui-Gon nodded, the child started to shake his head, then suddenly turned and ran.
"You don't have much time." A voice drew the Padawans' gaze to a pile of large rocks near the force-field, and the young woman reclining against them. She shifted sideways, bracing her elbow on a flat rock, and ran her gaze up and down. "Pretty scruffy looking Jedi, if you ask me."
Qui-Gon felt heat seeping up his neck, as he muttered something about jungles and bogs. Hakola stepped forward and knelt beside the energy barrier, staring intently at the girl. She looked to be close to their age, with soft green voluminous leggings and a darker green tunic that intensified the green in her eyes. A smile touched Hakola's lips as he asked, "Why don't we have much time, miss?"
"The boy's a fool. He'll warn the watchers and you'll become hunted men."
Qui-Gon crouched beside Hakola and asked, "What watchers?"
"The ones that guard the only entrance to the village."
Sensing frustration in her answer, Qui-Gon pressed, "This is something new, I take it?"
She nodded her head, making her blunt-cut blond hair sway. "Only since the quarantine was established."
"Quarantine?" Hakola echoed. "Is there an epidemic?"
Green eyes jumped from one Padawan to the other. "Yes. They claim it was brought here by those two Jedi, but I don't believe them." She sighed and looked away. "Many have died."
The young Jedi exchanged concerned glances. Qui-Gon voiced their confusion. "Coruscant has heard nothing of this. In fact, we've heard nothing from Circarpous V at all. That's why we're here."
Hakola jumped in. "Where is the primary communications array for the planet? If we could get there, maybe we could get word back to the Temple about this."
Hope sparked in the girl's eyes, then quickly faded. "It's 70 kilometers southwest, at the main settlement. Jungle and swamp all the way." She paused. "I think that's where the illness came from -- the jungle."
"There must be a road," Qui-Gon said.
"The roads are heavily patroled. They shoot anyone found outside a compound." She suddenly stood. "You'd better go. The watchers will be here any minute."
The Jedi rose and turned to leave. Qui-Gon hesitated. "What's your name?"
"Nyk."
The tall Padawan bowed. "Our thanks, Nyk. The Force be with you."
"You're the ones who are going to need it, Jedi."
The searchers were stretched in a long line far behind them, and were easy to keep at a distance. Still, Qui-Gon was confused by the whole situation. He thought the girl had meant there were a few guards posted at the gate. These watchers must have had a whole garrison stationed there. Were the watchers seeking to end the epidemic with the same diligence they were hunting Jedi? He brushed a vine out of the way, slipped between two trees and paused. There was something odd ... Hakola halted beside him and looked up with a question in his face.
Qui-Gon pointed off to the right. Hakola nodded. He sensed it, as well. Qui-Gon veered toward the source of the disturbance. A growing urgency seized him and he started to run. Darkness was falling swiftly when the two Padawans burst into the tiny clearing. Qui-Gon stopped so suddenly that Hakola bumped into him, rolling to the left.
The young men gaped for a moment, then Qui-Gon fell to his knees. The young girl before him was rumpled and dirty, with matted hair and achingly hollow eyes that were both dark and bright. Between the Jedi and the girl lay a man -- her father, undoubtedly -- who was very sick. Qui-Gon scanned him visually and through the Force. Once swarthy, the man's brittle black hair made his white skin appear to be chiseled from marble. His colorless face was covered with tiny pits. As Qui-Gon watched, a tremor passed over the man and his breath rattled in his lungs.
The Padawan realized the girl was too numb to react to the sudden appearance of strangers. She blinked repeatedly, then asked in a scratchy voice, "Can you help my daddy? He's been hot for days and days, and now he's cold. Every day he gets colder."
A glowrod snapped to life behind Qui-Gon. Hakola handed the light to the girl, who took it and held it to her chest. How long had she been like this? Alone in the jungle with a dying man. His heart constricted as Qui-Gon whispered, "Couldn't you go for help?"
The girl scrambled back a short distance, fear tangible in the air around her. "We saw them kill Mommy and Auntie and Uncle. We were only a little ways behind. They got to the road first and the soldiers shot them." Fat tears rolled down her cheeks.
Qui-Gon sent out a wave of calm through the Force. "And you hid in the jungle. That was very smart." The Padawan put his finger to his lips. "We need you to be very smart again. Those bad men are searching for us, and we don't want them to find you. We'll help you and your daddy hide, then you need to stay very, very quiet as they go past. Understand?" The nod was small and full of dread.
After the young Jedi helped the pair get settled under a large root, Qui-Gon knelt back in front of the girl. He pressed several nutrient bars into her hands and ran his fingers over his scalp. "I'll come back. As soon as I'm able." He left quickly, her eyes beaming into his back until the darkness swallowed them.
"The fever is taking hold of her. I saw it in her eyes." Hakola's quiet comment floated through the night. Qui-Gon felt no desire to answer as he picked up his pace.
Half an hour later, Qui-Gon stumbled. He looked over his shoulder, sure he had heard a shout. Without thinking, he spun and started back. Hakola's hand grasped his wrist and held tight. Immediately, anger leapt along the tall Padawan's nerves. He tensed, preparing to strike. The Force brushed his senses on the warm night breeze and he stilled, letting the ire seep harmlessly away. As if sensing the change, Hakola released him. Qui-Gon gathered tendrils of the Force together and reached out, searching. An echo of fear touched him, followed by sharp agony. Qui-Gon staggered slightly, then sank to a root, Hakola's hand on his elbow.
The older Padawan's voice was firm. "There was nothing you could have done, Jinn. We couldn't carry a sick child with us."
Qui-Gon rested his head in his hands. "Why would the Force lead me to her for ... for nothing? They killed her, Hakola. Who are these watchers?"
Hakola's reply was stony. "I don't know. But they certainly don't have much compassion for their own people. Let's get to that communication station and send word to Coruscant."
"What about Master Eit?"
"If he's being held prisoner, they'll have him at the main settlement, and that's where we're headed anyway." He paused and added softly. "It wasn't for nothing, Jinn. You gave hope where there was none -- if only for a few moments."
They ran -- into and through the night. The ground became more and more soggy, the going slower. As daylight oozed color back into the flora, Hakola called a halt. The two Jedi stood in the half light, mired by exhaustion and on the edge of two worlds, jungle behind, swamp ahead. They could sense that their searchers had turned back. Hakola pointed to a hillock, rising above the wet ground, sprouting three trees and a mass of ferns. They waded through a shallow channel and climbed the small rise. Qui-Gon's last thought before sleep claimed him was curiosity about the odd round bird that flashed high above him and disappeared.
Something tickled his nose, making him want to sneeze. He brushed it away and rolled over. There it was again. Qui-Gon's eyes sprang open. A leafy frond was arching over, reaching out to brush along his cheek. Qui-Gon swatted the fern away and sat up, scowling at Hakola.
"You aren't supposed to use the Force to annoy others, Doy."
Hakola's face was all innocence. "I was merely trying to wake you ... gently. The day is spinning away without us."
Qui-Gon pulled his chrono out and switched it to local time. Noon. He pressed a fist into his side and stretched. Six hours sleep had felt like six minutes. He squinted his eyes, assessing the terrain before them. Mossy green water punctuated by hillocks like the one they were on, as far as the young Jedi could see. He glanced down at his chrono and keyed it to odometer. They weren't quite halfway between the two settlements -- another 40 kilometers to go. His eyes traced the maze of waterways. They'd be lucky to reach the settlement before midnight.
"Yeah. I know how you feel." Hakola said quietly, as he rolled up the hem of his Jedi cloak and tied it around his waist. "Makes me wish we'd taken our chances on the road."
After pulling out two nutrient bars, Qui-Gon rolled up his cloak and stuffed it in his pack, along with his lightsaber. He tossed a bar to Hakola and stood up, slinging the pack onto his back, as an echo of the previous night's anger sounded through his mind. "Me, too. I could use a good fight."
"Killing a bunch of watchers won't bring her back, Jinn. But I'm glad you have so much energy. I'm sure today will give you lots of chances to use it."
"Anyone ever tell you that you have a tendency toward sarcasm, Doy?"
"Yes, actually." Hakola turned and waded into the water. "I believe it was you."
The rest of the day was spent wading through channels of varying depths, where they couldn't jump from one patch of land to the next. Occasionally, leeches had to be scraped off boots. Their clothing was coated in a layer of slime and algae that itched wherever it touched skin. Thirst parched their throats, unquenched by the tiny sips of water rationed out from their dwindling supply.
Twilight was giving way to darkness as they halted beside the widest channel they had come across. The brackish water faded to black a meter from the shore. Hakola pulled his re-breather from his belt and twirled it between his fingers.
"This is one bit of deep water I'm prepared for, Jinn."
Qui-Gon arched a brow. "Too bad it won't help you when we face the Jedi Council, Doy."
Hakola shot Qui-Gon a sharp look and fixed his mouthpiece in place, then slipped into the water. Qui-Gon followed suit. The ground dropped away almost immediately. Qui-Gon kept his eyes closed, using the Force to sense where he was going, as he plied through the water with easy, powerful strokes. Daylight warmth still infused the water, making it a similar temperature to the pool in the Temple. The swim relaxed his muscles and soothed his mind.
They were three-quarters of the way across when Qui-Gon sensed it. Slicing through the water on a direct intercept course. Whatever it was, it was big. And hungry. The animal desire to hunt pulsed strongly in the creature. Qui-Gon stretched out with the Force, training his thoughts toward it. He injected the need to flee into the small mind. Survival -- the only thing that could turn a hunter away from its prey. It slowed down. Danger! Qui-Gon continued to send the message. He felt Hakola join in his efforts. Suddenly the creature veered away from the two Padawans. Relief skimmed through Qui-Gon's mind as his fingers brushed shoreline.
Teeth tore into his arm. He jerked away. The teeth sank deeper. Qui-Gon started thrashing, the body of his attacker bumping up against his torso. Hands grabbed his tunic and hauled him out of the water. He rolled on the ground, pain blocking his thoughts as he tried to shake the thing loose. He couldn't think. Couldn't reach ...
"Hutt pus, Jinn. It's a snake."
Hakola's voice reached the Padawan, calming him a measure. "Hold still, while I use my lightsaber on it."
Just a snake. Still, Qui-Gon's breathing was shallow as he felt the snake grinding its teeth deeper into his muscles. A hungry snake.
"Blast. Water fried my saber. Where's yours?"
Fighting for composure, Qui-Gon whispered, "P-Pack." He sucked air in as he sensed tooth scrap bone. "Hurry."
Hakola jostled him, then Qui-Gon heard a snap and a hiss. He flung his left hand out. A flash of green and the snake's body fell with a sickly thump.
The lightsaber's blade disappeared and a glowrod leapt to life. Hakola handed it to Qui-Gon and knelt to examine the head, still attached to the Padawan's forearm. With an interested detachment, Qui-Gon watched while the other Padawan grasped the jaws of the snake and pried them open. The creature's mouth was filled with laser-sharp incisors instead of the usual fangs.
Cool air hit the wound and Qui-Gon stifled a cry. He winced on seeing the bloody tattered sleeve and ragged skin beneath it. He wiggled his fingers. He'd been lucky. The muscle was punctured, not torn much. Hakola ripped away the sleeve, opened his canteen and poured lukewarm water over the injury.
"That's the last of your water," Qui-Gon said. "You should save some."
"Got to get this thing clean, Jinn. Do you sense any poison?"
Qui-Gon turned inward, toward his center of calm, then probed his arm with the Force. No poison. He sagged in relief. "I'll be fine. Let's bind it and get going."
When they stopped for the night, a mere kilometer from the communication station, Qui-Gon knew that a mild infection had set in.
When they woke in the grey light of pre-dawn, he knew it was getting worse.
