Star Wars

Jedi Apprentice

#5

The Defenders Of The Dead

by Jude Watson

The starfighter darted closer to the surface of the planet Melida/Daan.
On the rugged terrain below, vast structures made of ebony stone hugged  the
ground, laid out in enormous perfect squares without windows or doors.

Obi-Wan Kenobi studied them through the viewscreen as  he  piloted  the
craft. "What do you think they are?" he asked Qui-Gon Jinn. "I've never seen
anything like them."

"I don't know," the Jedi Knight replied, studying  the  landscape  with
keen blue eyes. "Storage warehouses, perhaps, or military installations."

"They could conceal tracking devices," Obi-Wan observed.

"I'm not picking up anything on the scanner. But let's fly  lower  just
in case."

Without slowing, Obi-Wan piloted  the  craft  closer  to  the  planet's
surface. Rocks and vegetation rushed past the viewscreen. With the

engines at full power Obi-Wan kept a tight grip on  the  controls.  One
tiny adjustment could send them crashing.

"If we fly any lower, I'll be able  to  do  a  molecular  scan  of  the
topsoil," Qui-Gon remarked dryly from the copilot's seat. "You're flying too
low at this speed, Padawan. If we come across a stray boulder, we may end up
making an unscheduled crash landing."

His tone was mild, but Obi-Wan knew Qui-Gon would accept  no  argument.
Obi-Wan was Qui-Gon's Jedi apprentice, and one of the Jedi rules was not  to
question the order of a Master.

Reluctantly, Obi-Wan eased up slightly on the controls. The starfighter
rose a few meters. Qui-Gon stared steadily  ahead,  still  searching  for  a
place to land. They were reaching the outskirts of Zehava, the main city  on
the planet of Melida/ Daan,  and  it  was  crucial  that  their  arrival  be
unnoticed.

The bloody civil war on Melida/Daan had been raging for  thirty  years.
It was a continuation of a conflict that had lasted for centuries.  The  two
warring peoples, the Melida and the Daan, couldn't even agree on a name  for
their planet. The Melida called it Melida and the Daan called it Daan. In  a
compromise, the Galactic Senate used both names separated by a slash mark.

Every town and city on the planet was hotly contested,  with  territory
taken and lost in a continuing series of battles. The capital city of Zehava
was under siege much of the time, as the boundaries between Daan and  Melida
constantly shifted.

Obi-Wan knew that Jedi Master Yoda was depending on them for success in
this mission. He had chosen carefully among the many Jedi. This mission  was
important to him. Weeks ago, one of his brightest pupils,  the  Jedi  Knight
Tahl, had come to Melida/Daan as a guardian of peace.

Tahl was renowned among the Jedi Knights for her diplomatic skills. The
two sides had been close to a settlement when war broke out again. Tahl  had
been badly wounded and captured by the Melida.

Just days ago, Yoda had succeeded in getting a message through  to  his
original contact, a Melida named Wehutti.  Wehutti  had  agreed  to  smuggle
Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon into the city and help them to work for Tahl's release.

The mission ahead was more difficult and dangerous than usual,  Obi-Wan
knew. This time, the Jedi had not been invited to  settle  a  dispute.  They
were unwelcome. The last Jedi envoy had been captured, perhaps killed.

He glanced over at his Master. Qui-Gon's calm,

steady gaze swept the landscape ahead.  He  betrayed  no  agitation  or
worry that Obi-Wan could see.

One of the many things Obi-Wan admired about  Master  Qui-Gon  was  his
composure. He had wanted to become Qui-Gon's  Padawan  because  Qui-Gon  was
well respected for his bravery, skill, and ability with the Force.  Although
they sometimes had their differences, Obi-Wan had a  deep  respect  for  the
Jedi Master.

"Do you see that canyon?" Qui-Gon asked, leaning forward and  pointing.
"If you can land between the walls, we can hide the starfighter there.  It's
a tight fit."

"I can do it," Obi-Wan promised. Keeping his speed  steady,  he  dipped
down lower.

"Slow down," Qui-Gon warned.

"I can make it," Obi-Wan said, gritting his teeth. He was  one  of  the
better pilots at the Jedi Temple. Why did Qui-Gon  always  have  to  correct
him?

He zoomed into the small clearing with only a centimeter to spare.  But
at the last moment - too late - he saw that one of the cliffs  had  a  small
outcropping. A groaning sound filled the cockpit as the  side  of  the  ship
scraped against it.

Obi-Wan set the craft down and powered down the  engines.  He  did  not
want to look at

Qui-Gon. But he knew that being a Jedi meant taking responsibility  for
every mistake. He met his Master's gaze squarely.

He was relieved to see amusement in Qui-Gon's eyes. "At least we didn't
promise to return the starfighter without a scratch," he said.

Obi-Wan grinned. They had borrowed the transport from Queen Veda on the
planet Gala, where they had successfully completed their last mission.

As they climbed down from the starfighter onto  the  rocky  terrain  of
Melida/Daan, Qui-Gon paused. "There is a great disturbance in the  Force  on
this world," he murmured. "Hatred rules this place."

"Yes, I feel it," Obi-Wan said.

"We must be very careful here, Padawan. When so much  volatile  emotion
is packed into a place, it is hard to keep your distance. Remember you are a
Jedi. You are here to observe and to help where you can. Our mission  is  to
return Tahl to the Temple."

"Yes, Master."

The underbrush was thick and leafy, and  it  was  easy  to  drag  large
branches and cover the starfighter. It would not be visible from the air.

Shouldering their survival  packs,  the  two  Jedi  headed  toward  the
outskirts of Zehava. They

had been instructed to approach from the west, where Wehutti would meet
them at a Melida-controlled gate.

It was a dusty hike through hills and canyons. At last the  towers  and
buildings of the walled city were before them. They had kept  off  the  main
road, keeping to open country, and now they looked down at the city  from  a
nearby cliff.

Keeping low to the ground, Obi-Wan scanned the  desolate  outskirts  of
the city. He saw no people on the streets. There was only  one  entrance  to
the city on the main road. At the break  in  the  thick  wall  a  guardhouse
stood, bristling with laser cannons trained on the road. Two tall deflection
towers flanked the guardhouse.  Behind  the  wall  they  could  glimpse  the
buildings perched on the steep hills of the city. Close to the  wall  was  a
long, low building of black stone, with no windows or doors.

"It's a smaller version of those square buildings we saw from the air,"
Obi-Wan observed.

Qui-Gon nodded. "It could be a military  building  of  some  kind.  And
those deflection towers mean that there is a particle shield in place. If we
attempt to enter without permission, we'll be blasted with laser fire."

"What should we do?" Obi-Wan asked. "We don't want to  approach  unless
we're sure Wehutti is there."

Qui-Gon dug in his survival pack for a pair  of  electrobinoculars.  He
trained them on the guardhouse. "I've got worse news," he  said.  "I  see  a
Daan flag. That means either the whole city is now controlled by  the  Daan,
or the entrance is."

"And Wehutti is a Melida." Obi-Wan groaned. "So there's no way in."

Qui-Gon scuttled back  to  remove  himself  from  sight.  He  slid  the
electrobinoculars back into his pack. "There is always a way,  Padawan,"  he
said. "Wehutti told  us  to  approach  from  the  west.  If  we  follow  the
perimeter, we might find an unguarded area. Perhaps  he's  on  the  lookout.
Once we're away from that guard tower, we can get closer."

Keeping to the cover of the shadow of the cliffs, Obi-Wan  and  Qui-Gon
made their painstaking way around the city's walls. When they  were  out  of
the guardhouse's sight, they moved closer. Qui-Gon's keen eyes  swept  every
meter of the wall, searching for a break. Obi-Wan  knew  he  was  using  the
Force to test the way ahead, hoping to sense a break in the particle shield.
Obi-Wan tried to do the same, but he could only feel glimmers of resistance.

"Wait," Qui-Gon said suddenly. He stopped and held up  a  hand.  "Here.
There's a break in the shield."

"There's another one of those black buildings,"

Obi-Wan pointed out. The long, low building sat next to the wall on the
city side.

"I still don't know what they  are,  but  I  suggest  we  avoid  them,"
Qui-Gon remarked. "We'll scale the wall near those trees."

"We'll need the Force," Obi-Wan said, eyeing the high wall.

"Yes, but a carbon rope would help, too," Qui-Gon said, smiling. He put
his pack down, then leaned over to root through it. "We'll need yours,  too,
Padawan."

Obi-Wan stepped closer to Qui-Gon, swinging his pack off  his  shoulder
to the ground. His boots suddenly hit something with a clang. He looked down
and saw he had displaced some dirt on top of a metal plate. "Look,  Master,"
he said. "I wonder what this-"

He didn't get a chance to finish. Energy bars suddenly  rose  from  the
ground, trapping them. Before they could move, the metal  plate  slid  open,
and they fell into an abyss below.

Obi-Wan was falling through some sort of metal tube. He tried  to  slow
his descent with his heels, but they only clattered against the rough  metal
surface. His speed increased, and he tumbled forward, hitting  his  head  on
the edge of the tube and then spilling out onto a dirt floor.

He lay for a moment, stunned. Qui-Gon picked  himself  up  immediately,
his lightsaber in hand. He stood over Obi-Wan in case he needed protection.

"I'm all right," Obi-Wan said, his head clear ing. He struggled to  his
feet, grabbing his lightsaber as he did so. "Where are we?"

"In some sort of holding  cell,"  Qui-Gon  answered.  Smooth  durasteel
walls surrounded them. There was no crack or opening that Obi-Wan could see.

"We're trapped," he said. His voice bounced  off  the  walls,  sounding
hollow.

"No, Padawan," Qui-Gon said quietly. "There is more than  one  entrance
to this cell."

"How do you know?"

"Because we are not the first to fall into it."  Qui-Gon  explored  the
tiny space, using his lightsaber for illumination. "The tube we fell down is
battered, and the dirt is disturbed by other  footprints.  The  others  have
been taken out somehow, and it would be impossible to do so from the way  we
came in. This trap is engineered to capture, not kill. There must be another
door. Besides," he added, "there are no bones or remains.  That  means  that
whoever set the trap removes who they capture."

"Eventually," Obi-Wan muttered. His stomach was empty,  and  he  wished
he'd had time to eat before he'd left the starfighter. "I lost  my  survival
pack," he told Qui-Gon. "It's on the surface."

"Mine is as well. We'll have to use our lightsabers," Qui-Gon replied.

Obi-Wan had food in  mind  more  than  illumination,  but  he  followed
Qui-Gon's example and activated his lightsaber. He  held  it  close  to  the
walls surrounding him, examining them. As he worked, he felt the Force begin
to move between them, filling the space.

He clearly saw every irregularity in the  seemingly  smooth  walls.  He
searched for a hidden

seam, sure now that they would find one. All he had to do was trust the
Force.

As a student at the Temple, he had been mystified by the Force. He knew
he was Force-sensitive - it was why he had  been  chosen  to  study  at  the
Temple as a child. But throughout his training, he  often  found  the  Force
elusive and unreliable. He was able to tap into it, but not  every  time  he
wanted to. When he did, he could not control it.

With Qui-Gon, he had learned that it was not his job to control it, but
to join it. Now he could rely on it to guide  him,  give  him  strength  and
vision. He was beginning to understand how deeply it pulsed,  how  steady  a
presence it was. As a Jedi, he had constant access to it It was the greatest
gift he could imagine being given.

"Here," Qui-Gon said quietly.

At first, Obi-Wan could not see anything. But then he noticed the  tiny
hairline crack in the even surface of the wall.

Qui-Gon moved his hand over the seam. "Of course the locking device  is
on the other side," he mused. "I'm assuming it's blast-proof. But  I'm  also
assuming that no Jedi has ever been trapped here before."

Together, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon moved the beams of their lightsabers down
the outline of the door. The sabers cut through the metal,

which curled back like  a  tender  green  leaf.  A  small  opening  was
exposed.

Qui-Gon squeezed through, and Obi-Wan followed. He found himself  in  a
short, narrow tunnel, which led to what he sensed was a huge space.  It  was
pitch-dark, a darkness so black it held no shadows. Even  the  glow  of  his
lightsaber seemed swallowed up by the absolute darkness.

They stopped, listening carefully. But not a sound  moved  through  the
space. Obi-Wan could not even hear his breathing,  or  Qui-Gon's.  Jedi  are
trained to slow their breath so they make no sound, even when they are under
pressure or stress.

"I think we  are  alone,"  Qui-Gon  said  quietly.  His  voice  echoed,
confirming Obi-Wan's belief that they were in a wide, open space.

They moved forward cautiously, lightsabers held in defensive  position.
Obi-Wan felt a trickle of perspiration snake down  the  back  of  his  neck.
Something was wrong here. He could feel it.

"The Force is dark," Qui-Gon murmured.  "Angry.  Yet  I  don't  feel  a
living Force here."

Obi-Wan nodded. He could not have put his finger on what he  felt,  but
Qui-Gon had been able to. Some deep-rooted evil was here,  yet  he  did  not
feel a living pulse around him.

Obi-Wan's foot hit a ledge that he hadn't been

able to see. He reached out to steady himself against a  stone  column.
In that split-second of lost concentration, a flicker of movement came  from
his right.

He whirled, lightsaber held high. A warrior  appeared,  moving  quickly
toward him from the deep shadows, his blaster aimed  straight  at  Obi-Wan's
heart.

Obi-Wan sprang, his lightsaber slashing forward. The beam did not  meet
flesh or bone, but passed harmlessly through the figure.

Surprised, Obi-Wan whirled to the left to launch  another  attack,  but
Qui-Gon stopped him.

"You cannot fight this enemy, Padawan," Qui-Gon said.

Obi-Wan looked closer. The warrior, he realized, was a hologram.

Suddenly, a voice boomed out. "I am Quin-tama, Captain  of  the  Melida
Liberation Force." The hologram moved his blaster  to  his  side.  "Tomorrow
will commence the Twenty-First Battle of  Zehava.  It  will  doom  our  Daan
enemies to destruction once and for  all,  and  we  shall  achieve  glorious
victory. We shall recapture the city that we founded a thousand  years  ago.
All Melida will live in peace."

"Twenty-First Battle of Zehava?" Obi-Wan whispered to Qui-Gon.

"The city has  changed  hands  many  times  over  the  years,"  Qui-Gon
remarked. "Look at his blaster. It's an old model. I'd say  fifty  years  or
more."

"I  look  forward  to  glorious  total  victory,"  the  ghostly  figure
continued. "And yet there is a chance that in achieving that victory I  will
die. I accept my death willingly, as does my wife Pinani, who fights  by  my
side. But for my children ..." The booming voice faltered for only a moment.
"... My children, Renei and Wunana, I leave the memory of  the  ancestors  I
have shared with them, the stories of our long persecution by  the  Daan.  I
saw my father killed, and I will avenge his death. I saw my village starved,
and I will avenge my neighbors. Remember me, my children. And remember  what
I have suffered at the hands of the Daan. If I die, pick up  my  weapon  and
avenge me as I have avenged my family." Abruptly, the hologram disappeared.

"I guess he didn't make it," Obi-Wan said. He crouched down to a  stone
marker. "He died in that battle."

Qui-Gon moved past the marker and came to the next. A large golden ball
was mounted on a column next to it. He placed his hand on it.

Immediately, another hologram rose from its marker like a ghost.

"I must have triggered the first one when I stumbled," Obi-Wan said.

The second hologram was a woman. Her tunic was torn  and  stained,  her
hair clipped short. She carried a force pike and had one blaster strapped to
a hip, another to a thigh.

"I am Pinani, widow of Quintama, daughter of the great heroes Bicha and
Tiraca. Tonight we march on the town of Bin to avenge the Battle of  Zehava.
Our supplies have been depleted. Our weapons are low. Most of us died in the
glorious battle to retake our beloved city of Zehava from the ruthless Daan.
There is no chance that our battle will  succeed,  yet  we  will  fight  for
justice and vengeance against the enemy who persecutes us. My  husband  died
before my eyes. My father and mother died when the  Daan  marched  into  our
village and rounded them up and killed  them.  And  so  I  say  to  you,  my
children, Renei and Wunana, do not forget us. Fight on.  Avenge  this  great
terrible wrong. I will die bravely. I die for you."

The hologram blinked out. Obi-Wan crossed to the  next  marker.  "Renei
and Wunana both died only three years later in the Twenty-Second  Battle  of
Zehava," he said. "They were barely older than me."

He turned and met Qui-Gon's eyes. "What kind  of  place  is  this?"  he
asked.

"A mausoleum," Qui-Gon said. "A place for the dead to rest. But here on
Melida/Daan,  the  memories  stay  alive.  Look."  Qui-Gon  pointed  to  the
offerings that they now saw heaped on pedestals in front of the columns. The
flowers were fresh, the trays of seeds and cups of water replenished.

They walked down the aisles, past row after row of  graves,  activating
hologram after hologram. The vast, echoing space filled with the  voices  of
the dead. They saw generations tell their stories of  blood  and  vengeance.
They heard tales of whole villages starved and  then  slaughtered,  children
torn from their mother's arms, mass executions, forced marches that ended in
suffering and more death.

"The Daan sound like a  bloodthirsty  people,"  Obi-Wan  remarked.  The
accounts of suffering and agony had moved through him like growing pain from
a deep wound.

"We're in a Melida mausoleum," Qui-Gon replied. "I wonder what the Daan
have to say."

"There are so many dead,"  Obi-Wan  observed.  "But  there's  no  clear
reason why they fight. Battle follows battle, each one conducted  to  avenge
the one before. What is the real dispute?"

"Perhaps they have forgotten it," Qui-Gon said. "The hatred is bred  in
their bones. Now they fight over meters of territory, or to avenge  a  wrong
that happened a hundred years before."

Obi-Wan shivered. The damp, cold air had invaded his body. He felt  cut
away from the rest of the galaxy. His world  had  funneled  down  into  this
black, shadowy space full of blood, revenge, and death.  "Our  mission  here
hasn't even begun, and already I  have  seen  enough  suffering  to  last  a
lifetime."

Qui-Gon's gaze was sad. "There are some worlds that manage to hold onto
peace for centuries, Padawan. But I am afraid that many have  seen  terrible
wars that scar the memories of each generation. It has always been."

"Well, I've seen enough for now," Obi-Wan said.  "Let's  find  the  way
out."

They walked quickly now, hurrying past the markers,  searching  for  an
exit. At last they saw a square of brightness ahead. It was a door fashioned
from a translucent material that emitted a white glow.

Qui-Gon pressed the exit indicator light, and they spilled out into the
weak sunshine with relief. They remained  in  the  shadow  of  the  doorway,
scanning the immediate area before moving on.

The mausoleum was perched on a ridge. Ahead of them rose a  steep  hill
that ended in an overhanging cliff. A path wound through  gardens  to  their
left, a wall to their right.

"I guess we have to go that way," Obi-Wan said, pointing to the path.

"I suppose," Qui-Gon said. Still, he hesitated, his keen gaze searching
the steep hillside in front of them. "But I-"

Suddenly, the dirt exploded in front of Obi-Wan's feet.

"Snipers!" Qui-Gon yelled. "Take cover!"

The blaster fire came from the top of the  overhanging  cliff.  Obi-Wan
and Qui-Gon leaped to the top of the wall on their  right.  Chips  of  stone
splintered and flew as blaster fire ripped into the  wall.  Qui-Gon  took  a
split-second to balance and survey what lay  below.  Then  he  leaped  down,
Obi-Wan directly behind him.

They landed in a small area with  humming  banks  of  machinery.  Walls
surrounded them on three sides, the mausoleum building on  the  other.  They
would be trapped here under fire, but at least the blaster  fire  could  not
reach them. Qui-Gon wondered fleetingly if the snipers would get  bored  and
go away.

Unfortunately, in his long experience, snipers never got bored and went
away.

Qui-Gon examined the machinery. "These must be the heating and  cooling
units for the

building," he observed as blaster fire  continued  to  rip  over  their
heads.

"At least we're out of the line of fire," Obi-Wan said.

"I'm afraid we have a bigger problem," Qui-Gon said. He  bent  down  to
examine a metal tank. "This is full of proton fuel. If the blaster fire hits
it, we'll be blown from here back to the starship."

He exchanged a concerned glance with Obi-Wan. They would have to expose
themselves to the snipers. They could not remain here and continue  to  draw
fire.

"Let's see what's on the  other  side  of  that  wall,"  Qui-Gon  said,
indicating the wall opposite to the one they had leaped over.

Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon summoned the Force. When Qui-Gon felt it  grow  and
pulse around them, he jumped,  along  with  Obi-Wan.  As  they  leaped  into
midair, they took a quick survey of what lay on the other side, blaster fire
suddenly intensifying around them. Qui-Gon deflected it with his lightsaber.

They fell back to the ground.

"It's a big drop down to that ravine," Obi-Wan reported to Qui-Gon. "Do
you think we can make it?"

"The ground looks soft," Qui-Gon said. "That could  help  our  landing,
but if it's swampy, we

could be in trouble. We don't want to be swallowed by a  bog.  Remember
that the terrain of Melida/Daan can be treacherous."

"At least we'll surprise the snipers," Obi-Wan pointed out. "They won't
expect us to risk it."

Qui-Gon nodded. "We can work our way around the cliff and scale it from
the other side to surprise them further. The brush will cover us. They won't
know which way we went, and probably won't expect us to attack."

"The only alternative, Master, is to go back over  the  wall.  Once  we
made it to that path, we'd have shelter in the gardens."

Qui-Gon paused, thinking of their next move. While  he  considered  the
odds, he thought about the way he and Obi-Wan had come to function  together
as a unit. Though at times their relations could be  bumpy,  under  pressure
their rhythm matched, their  thoughts  clicked.  He  admired  his  Padawan's
ability to operate on all levels. Even under great pressure,  Obi-Wan  could
strategize, calculate odds and opportunities, and make a joke.

"If we try for the gardens, we lose the element of  surprise,"  Qui-Gon
said finally. "Remember this, Padawan: when one is outnumbered, surprise  is
your best ally. Let's try the ravine."

Blaster fire pinged against metal, and Qui-

Gon flicked an apprehensive gaze at the proton gas tank. "I think  it's
time we left. Don't forget there's a line of shrubs at the immediate  bottom
of the slope on the other side. Make your jump as wide as you can."

Qui-Gon reached out for the Force. It was always there, ready  for  him
to tap into. It was his companion as much as Obi-Wan was.  He  pictured  the
leap he would have to make. Nothing was impossible when the Force was  near.
His body would do what it needed to do.

They backed up as far as they could for a running start. Then they  ran
forward three quick steps and took the leap. They cleared the wall easily  -
the Force and the momentum sent them sailing through the air, over the steep
slope into the ravine.

Qui-Gon felt the swampy ground move under his feet as he landed, but it
did not suck him down. Obi-Wan landed softly a short distance behind him.

"Hurry, Padawan," Qui-Gon urged.

Mud sucked at their boots, hampering their progress as  they  struggled
to make their way around the cliff face. They could hear  the  blaster  fire
and then the thump of  a  proton  grenade  exploding.  Qui-Gon  turned.  The
grenade had fallen just short of the walled enclosure. But if one  scored  a
direct hit on the proton fuel tank, it

could help them. An explosion would be  good  cover  for  a  successful
assault.

At last they made it to the opposite side of the cliff. Here, the rocky
ground sloped sharply upward. It would be a steep climb, but  at  least  the
ground was firm.

Obi-Wan moved quickly and tirelessly beside him, his physical  strength
backed by his strong will. Obi-Wan would  learn  grace  as  he  grew  older,
Qui-Gon knew.

They slowed their ascent as they grew closer to the top  of  the  hill.
Surprise was not only helpful, but necessary. They  had  no  idea  how  many
snipers they would find.

When they were close to the top,  Qui-Gon  gave  the  signal  and  they
dropped to their knees. They  lay  flat,  then  squirmed  up  the  remaining
distance on their stomachs. Qui-Gon guided them to the shelter of a  cluster
of boulders at the hill's edge.

Four snipers were lined up on the cliff face, laying  flat  with  their
blasters pointed toward the mausoleum. Not bad  odds  for  a  Jedi,  Qui-Gon
thought.

Silently, he drew his lightsaber. Obi-Wan did the  same.  At  Qui-Gon's
nod, the two of them leaped up, activating their  lightsabers  at  the  same
time. They made barely a whisper of sound as they moved.

Qui-Gon headed  for  the  largest,  strongest-looking  sniper.  Obi-Wan
leaped toward the sniper about to fire a blaster rifle. With a  single  blow
of Obi-Wan's lightsaber, the blaster rifle cracked in two.

Qui-Gon struck down at the largest sniper's  weapon,  and  the  blaster
flew from his hand. The sniper rolled away to avoid the next  blow,  kicking
out at Qui-Gon as he did  so.  The  blow  connected,  sending  fire  through
Qui-Gon's ribcage and surprising him. He was  also  surprised  to  note  the
sniper had only one arm.

A third sniper moved toward Qui-Gon with a vibro-shiv.  Qui-Gon  turned
quickly to his left to avoid the blade, slashing down with his lightsaber to
disarm the sniper. Obi-Wan launched himself at the fourth sniper and  kicked
his blaster rifle off the cliff.

Qui-Gon somersaulted backward as the  one-armed  sniper  fired  from  a
blaster he'd retrieved from an ankle holster. The blaster fire  just  missed
him. The second sniper, who had lost his vibro-shiv, threw a proton  grenade
at Qui-Gon. The Jedi Knight leaped out of the way, and it  sailed  over  the
cliff.

Qui-Gon whirled to disarm his one-armed opponent, but suddenly  he  was
shaken by an enormous explosion. The grenade had hit the  proton  gas  tank.
Qui-Gon felt air move against

his skin like a wall of fire. His Jedi reflexes helped  him  stand  his
ground. Obi-Wan was also prepared. But the fourth sniper  lost  his  balance
with a cry, tumbling over the edge of the  cliff.  He  grabbed  a  root  and
hoisted  himself  uneasily  back  to  safety.  Obi-Wan  hovered  over   him,
lightsaber ready, prepared to defend himself if necessary.

Qui-Gon's one-armed adversary kept his blaster steady. He was a  little
older than Qui-Gon. Underneath his plastoid armor  his  body  was  lean  and
strong. Synth-flesh covered one cheek. Qui-Gon guessed it had been  recently
applied since it did not have a chance to knit into living flesh.

The one-armed man's eyes flicked to Qui-Gon's weapon, and  he  laughed.
"Is that the famous lightsaber I've heard so much about?"

Surprised to find himself having a conversation with a man  desperately
trying to kill him, Qui-Gon nodded.

The man grinned. "Jedi! We thought you were Daan!"

Qui-Gon did not lower his lightsaber.

The man tossed his blaster aside. "Relax, Jedi. By the strength of  our
mothers and the valor of our fathers, this is no trick. I am  your  contact,
Wehutti. So you're here after all!"

"We were told to meet you on the outskirts of Zehava," Qui-Gon remarked
as he deactivated his lightsaber.

"I apologize for failing to meet you," Wehutti said,  striding  forward
to greet them. "The message I received from  the  Temple  was  garbled.  The
despicable and evil Daan often jam communications. I sent back a  message  I
would  meet  with  Jedi  representatives,  hoping  I   would   get   further
instructions. Right now, we are in the sector that the Daan  plundered  from
us in the Twenty-Second battle. Until we have our  vengeance,  they  control
the outskirts of the city. I've been  sneaking  over  for  three  days  now,
hoping I would find you somehow." He extended his palm outward in the  local
greeting. "You must be Qui-Gon Jinn."

"This is my apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi," Qui-Gon said.

Obi-Wan bowed to Wehutti. He was grateful that  they  had  found  their
contact. They had barely been on Melida/Daan for an hour, and it was already
apparent what a treacherous place it was.

Wehutti introduced his comrades as  Moahdi,  Kejas,  and  Herut.  Herut
clutched his sore wrist and glowered at Obi-Wan, who tried to look friendly.

"It appears we are lucky to have found you," Qui-Gon said. "If the Daan
control the perimeter, I'm surprised you would venture so far."

Wehutti's friendly face grew stony.  "In  the  valiant  spirit  of  our
honored ancestors, we must protect our Hall of Evidence."

"Hall of Evidence?" Obi-Wan asked.

Wehutti gestured at the black monolith below where Qui-Gon and  Obi-Wan
had wandered. "It is where we store the honored  memories  of  our  glorious
dead. They are all warriors and heroes. If the lowlife Daan had  their  way,
they would destroy our most sacred places. We need to show them they  cannot
enter."

"So the Melida and the Daan are still at war," Qui-Gon said.

"No, we have a cease-fire at the  moment,"  Wehutti  said.  He  drew  a
circle in the dirt with the toe of his boot, then a larger circle around it.

"The bloodthirsty Daan drove the Melida from their homes and  contained
them here, in  the  Inner  Hub."  He  pointed  to  the  inner  circle.  "The
barbarians surround us on the Outer Circle. But victory will come  one  day.
We shall retake Zehava. Block by block we will move outward."

Qui-Gon eyed the blaster on the ground. "You have a cease-fire,  but  I
see you still shoot."

"The day I put down my weapon is the day that  the  Melida  are  free,"
Wehutti said quietly.

"What about Jedi Knight Tahl?" Qui-Gon asked. "Do you have news?"

Wehutti nodded. "I have spoken to the Melida leaders. They have come to
see that holding a Jedi will not help our  cause.  A  bit  more  negotiation
might be called for, but I have every certainty that she will be released to
your care."

"That is good news," Qui-Gon said.

Wehutti nodded. "Now we must go. It isn't safe here. Like our  martyred
ancestors, we are in danger every moment." He turned to Moahdi,  Kejas,  and
Herut. "Gather the weapons. See if you can find  the  blaster  rifle  below.
I'll see you back in the Hub."

His three companions hurried off, gathering up  the  vibro-shiv  and  a
damaged blaster before they left. Wehutti picked up his blaster and returned
it to its holster. "We are very low on

weapons," he explained to the Jedi. "Even damaged ones must be salvaged
for the day of our vengeance."

"Are you low on med supplies as well?" Qui-Gon asked.

Wehutti nodded and pointed  to  his  absent  arm.  "No  plastoid  limbs
available, I'm afraid. Some were lucky to get them, but many  were  not.  We
ran through everything we had after the  last  battle  of  Zehava,  and  the
government has no money to order more. But I do all right. The sacrifice  of
my people means more than my pain."

Qui-Gon touched the spot where Wehutti had hit him and winced. "You  do
just fine," he told his former attacker.

Wehutti led them back down the rocky slope and turned down a path  that
ran behind houses at the edge of a park. The park was  filled  with  damaged
and rusting starfighters and floaters.

"The Daan don't seem to have funds, either," Qui-Gon noted.

"The last war bankrupted both  sides,"  Wehutti  said  cheerfully.  "At
least we're even." He handed the Jedi  two  yellow  discs.  "In  case  we're
stopped, these are forged Daan identity cards.  But  let's  hope  we're  not
stopped."

Wehutti led them down twisting alleyways and through the  rear  gardens
of grand houses,

down tiny streets and over rooftops. If they  saw  people  ahead,  they
ducked into the shadows of buildings,  or  simply  turned  in  the  opposite
direction. A fine rain began to fall, keeping most people off the streets.

"You know the city well," Qui-Gon observed.

Wehutti's mouth twisted. "I lived in this area as a young man. Now I am
forbidden to come here."

At last they reached a desolate area. The buildings  were  bombed  out,
the windows shattered.

"This used to be a Melida neighborhood," Wehutti  explained.  "Now  the
Daan control it, but no one will live here. Too close to Melida territory."

They hurried  down  the  street.  Ahead  was  a  tall  fence  with  two
deflection towers flanking it. Cannons were trained at the street ahead.

"Don't worry," Wehutti said. "The guards know me."

They walked past the checkpoint with Wehutti giving a  casual  wave  to
the guards. They saluted him respectfully.  Obi-Wan  noted  that  they  were
older, possibly in their sixties. They seemed old to be guards.

Once in Melida territory, Obi-Wan tried to relax, but his  nerves  were
still jumping. He felt just as apprehensive as he had in Daan terri-

tory. Maybe it was the severe disturbances he could feel in the  Force.
Qui-Gon strode by his side, his face impassive, but Obi-Wan knew his  Master
was alert and watchful.

Barricades and checkpoints were set up at almost every block. He  could
see the  evidence  of  battles  fought  here:  blaster  and  grenade  blasts
pockmarked the buildings, and many were in ruins. Everyone  he  saw  on  the
streets carried weapons in plain view. It was like the  planets  he'd  heard
about in the far reaches of the galaxy, where no laws were followed.

"We noticed other Halls of  Evidence  as  we  flew  over  Melida/Daan,"
Qui-Gon remarked to Wehutti.

"We call our world Melida," Wehutti corrected  Qui-Gon  in  a  friendly
way. "We do not link our great tradition to that of the  filthy  Daan.  Yes,
even the Daan have Halls of Evidence. Evidence of their  lies,  we  say.  We
Melida visit our ancestors every week to hear their stories.  We  bring  our
children so we keep alive the history of injustices the Melida have suffered
at the hands of the Daan. Nobody forgets. Nobody will ever forget."

Obi-Wan felt a chill at Wehutti's grim words. Even if the Daan were  as
bad as he said, how could they continue to wage  battle  after  battle  when
they were destroying their world piece by

piece? He could see that Zehava had once been a beautiful city. Now  it
was a ruin. By building these enormous Halls of Evidence, were they  keeping
history alive, or destroying their civilization?

And there was something else that  was  wrong  here,  Obi-Wan  thought.
Something that hovered at the back of his mind, something he couldn't  quite
place.

Obi-Wan's gaze moved absently down the street to  a  group  of  Melidas
sitting outside at a cafe. The window of the restaurant had been blown  out,
and a fire had destroyed the interior, but the owner had set out tables  and
chairs on the walkway outside. A few tubs of blooming plants with bright red
flowers struggled to add a cheerful note next to the bomb-blasted building.

Suddenly, Obi-Wan realized what was wrong. He hadn't seen anyone on the
streets older than twenty or younger than fifty or so. Mostly,  the  streets
were crowded with elders and young people like himself. He had seen  no  men
or women of Qui-Gon's age except for Wehutti. Even  the  other  snipers  had
been elders, he realized. Were the mid-life people all working, or  gathered
somewhere for a meeting?

"Wehutti,  where  are  all  the  middle-aged  people?"  Obi-Wan   asked
curiously.

"They're dead," Wehutti said flatly.

Even Qui-Gon looked startled. "The  wars  have  wiped  out  the  middle
generation?"

"The Daan have wiped out  the  middle  generation,"  Wehutti  corrected
grimly.

Obi-Wan had noticed the same lack of the middle generation in the  Daan
sector, but he didn't mention it to Wehutti. Obviously, the  hatred  of  the
Daan ran so deep in Wehutti that he could see no other sides of the story.

As they passed the  blown-out  cafe,  Obi-Wan  noticed  graffiti  on  a
partially destroyed wall. Scrawled in blazing red paint were the  words  THE
YOUNG WILL RISE! WE ARE EVERYONE!

They turned a corner and walked through a neighborhood  that  had  once
prospered. As they made their way through the barricades onto  once-pleasant
squares, Obi-Wan noticed more graffiti. It all repeated what  he'd  seen  on
the cafe wall.

"Who are the Young?" he asked Wehutti, pointing to the graffiti. "Is it
some organized group?"

Wehutti frowned. "Just kids, fooling around. It isn't  enough  that  we
have to live in Daan-destroyed homes and gardens. Our own children  have  to
make our surroundings worse by defacing them. Ah, here we are."

He stopped in front of a once-luxurious man-

sion. A solid durasteel wall had been erected around it. It was  topped
with coils of electro-wire. The windows were barred  and  Obi-Wan  was  sure
they would release an  electro-charge  if  touched.  The  house  was  now  a
fortress.

Wehutti stopped in front of the gate and pressed his  eye  against  the
iris-reader. The gate clicked open and he gestured for them to go inside.

They stepped into a walled courtyard. In front of the house was a  rack
filled with weapons.

"I'm afraid  you  must  leave  your  lightsabers  here,"  Wehutti  said
apologetically. He unstrapped his own weapons from their holsters. "This  is
Melida headquarters. It's a weapon-free zone."

Qui-Gon hesitated a fraction. Obi-Wan waited to see what he would do. A
Jedi is never separated from his or her lightsaber.

"I'm sorry, but if you break this rule the negotiations will  go  badly
for you," Wehutti said in a conciliatory tone.  "They  need  proof  of  your
trust since you ask for theirs. But it is your decision."

Slowly, Qui-Gon withdrew his lightsaber. He nodded at Obi-Wan to do the
same. He slipped it into the rack, then took Obi-Wan's and slipped  it  next
to his.

Wehutti smiled. "I'm sure this will go smoothly. This way."

Qui-Gon gestured for Obi-Wan to step in first as he gathered the  folds
of his cloak more closely around him. Wehutti followed directly behind them.

The hallway was dark, the stone floor pitted with  holes.  Wehutti  led
the way to a room on the left. Dark material  was  hung  over  the  windows,
shutting out any light. A lamp in one corner emitted a tiny glow that failed
to chase away the shadows.

Obi-Wan made out a group of men and  women  sitting  at  a  long  table
against the wall. They appeared to be waiting for them.

"The Melida Council," Wehutti explained to them  in  a  whisper.  "They
rule the Melida people." He closed the heavy door behind them with a  clang.
Obi-Wan heard a lock spring. He glanced at Qui-Gon, trying to  read  if  his
Master felt the same jolt of apprehension.

"I have returned, comrades," Wehutti announced. He spread his  arms  to
indicate Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon. "And I have brought two more Jedi hostages for
our grand cause!"

Wehutti had barely finished speaking when Qui-Gon moved. His lightsaber
was activated and in his hand while the  smile  still  beamed  on  Wehutti's
face. Qui-Gon whirled, striking Wehutti on the shoulder. At the  same  time,
he tossed Obi-Wan's lightsaber to him, hoping the boy was prepared to  catch
it.

Qui-Gon had been ready for Wehutti's betrayal.  He  did  not  need  the
Force to tell him that Wehutti had led them into a trap. His  instincts  had
told him so before they had even reached the gates of the  Inner  Hub.  When
Wehutti had asked them to leave their weapons, Qui-Gon had only feigned  his
hesitation. He had foreseen the request and  was  already  planning  to  get
around it. It had been easy to unfurl his cloak to cover  his  recapture  of
the lightsabers. Even clever men can see only what they want to see. Wehutti
had already been congratulating

himself on his own ingenuity in luring the Jedi into his trap.

Wehutti fell with a  cry  of  rage  and  pain.  Obi-Wan  activated  his
lightsaber.

"The door," Qui-Gon said to him, and prepared to defend himself against
the group seated at the table. Several had  half-risen,  but  the  remaining
Melida were still too shocked to react.

He heard Obi-Wan strike a blow to the lock. Two warriors, a man  and  a
woman, had been quicker to  react  than  the  others.  They  started  toward
Qui-Gon, blasters in hand.

Suddenly, a light blazed on. Obi-Wan must have activated  the  lighting
while he struggled with the door. It was better not to fight  in  the  dark,
though every Jedi is trained to be able to do so.

Qui-Gon suppressed a start of surprise when the  Melida  soldiers  were
fully revealed. All of them  had  already  been  severely  wounded.  He  saw
evidence of synth-flesh covering faces and exposed skin, as well as plastoid
limbs. Two of the group wore breath-masks.

The Melida and the Daan were truly  destroying  each  other,  piece  by
piece.

This was only a fleeting thought, gone  as  quickly  as  it  had  come.
Qui-Gon knew he must concentrate on the threat.  He  deflected  the  blaster
fire as he ran to Obi-Wan, who had eas-

ily melted the lock. The door stood open.  Obi-Wan  and  Qui-Gon  raced
from the room into the corridor.

Pounding footsteps overhead  made  them  pause.  A  red  light  blinked
insistently on the wall. Bars suddenly slammed down over the front door.

"Someone triggered a silent alarm," Qui-Gon said.

"We'll never get out that door," Obi-Wan warned.

They turned toward the hallway, racing to find a back exit.  They  knew
they had little time before the rest of the Melida soldiers found them.

As they passed various  points  in  the  hallway,  an  electronic  beep
sounded.

"Those are location sensors," Qui-Gon said. "They're tracking us.  They
know exactly where we are."

At the end of the hallway  they  came  to  a  heavily  fortified  door.
Qui-Gon turned to the left and opened the first door he saw. They would have
to get out a window if they could.

The room was high-ceilinged and full  of  stored  equipment:  circuits,
nav-computers, sensor parts, dismantled droids.

Qui-Gon crossed to the window. Electro-bars ran  in  a  grid  over  the
pane. The security device

would keep out life-forms and resist some forms of weaponry. But it was
no match for a Jedi lightsaber. Qui-Gon cut through the bars with one swipe,
leaving a gap big enough for them to leap through. Then he did the same with
the window pane.

"Gome, Padawan," he urged Obi-Wan.

The boy leaped easily through the gap.  Qui-Gon  followed.  They  found
themselves in a walled and fortified courtyard. The  wall  would  be  easily
scaled, Qui-Gon calculated. Too easily.

"Come on, Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan said impatiently.

"Wait." Qui-Gon walked closer to the wall. He crouched down and studied
it. "It's mined," he told Obi-Wan. "Thermal detonators. If we  climb  it  or
even leap over it, the infrared sensors will blow us sky-high."

"So we're trapped."

"I'm afraid  so,"  Qui-Gon  answered,  his  mind  sifting  through  the
possibilities. They would have to reenter  the  Melida  fortress  and  fight
their way out. They didn't have much time. The  soldiers  would  figure  out
where they were in seconds.

Qui-Gon whirled, his lightsaber raised, as he heard a metallic scraping
sound. But no Melida warrior was in sight. He tracked the sound to

the floor. A small sewer grate was being pushed back.

A small, dirty hand shot out of the opening and beckoned.

Obi-Wan looked at Qui-Gon, puzzled. "What should we do?" he whispered.

An ironic voice floated up from the grate. "Go ahead, talkdroids.  Have
a debate. I'll wait. We have plenty of time."

Qui-Gon heard shouting and running in the  fortress.  Any  moment  now,
soldiers would appear at the window.

"Let's go," he told Obi-Wan.

He waited  while  his  Padawan  slithered  into  the  opening.  Qui-Gon
followed blindly, his feet searching  and  finding  the  rung  of  a  ladder
leading downward. Hoping he hadn't made a mistake, Qui-Gon climbed down.

Obi-Wan felt his way down the rickety metal ladder. He stepped off  the
last rung into ankle-deep water. Qui-Gon followed,  moving  with  his  usual
grace, surprising for such a large man.

It was impossible to tell if their rescuer was a boy  or  a  girl.  The
figure wore a hooded tunic, and pressed a dirty  finger  against  its  lips.
Then he or she raised a finger and pointed above. The meaning was clear.  If
they weren't absolutely quiet, the guards above would hear.

The footsteps above were loud, the  voices  angry  and  insistent.  The
Jedi's rescuer turned and walked very slowly through the water, raising  one
foot and slipping it carefully back into the water so  that  no  splash  was
heard. Obi-Wan followed the example. Softly,  quietly,  they  moved  farther
down the tunnel.

The walls were shored up  with  splintered  beams.  Obi-Wan  eyed  them
uneasily. The tun-

nel did not seem very secure to him. Still, it was an improvement  over
fighting his way out of a heavily armed fortress.

As soon as they had  put  some  distance  between  themselves  and  the
entrance, they picked up their pace. They  walked  through  what  felt  like
miles of tunnel, slogging through water and muck.  Occasionally,  the  water
was up to their knees. Their rescuer led them through old sewer tunnels, and
the smell was terrible. Obi-Wan tried not to gag. Their rescuer  seemed  not
to notice it, but kept up the same dogged, determined pace.

At last they came to a large vaulted space illuminated by several  glow
rods mounted on the walls. The ground  was  dry  here,  the  air  noticeably
fresher. The room was dotted with rectangular  stone  boxes  overgrown  with
moss. More lined the walls.

"Tombs," Qui-Gon murmured. "It's an old resting ground."

One of the tombs, scraped clean of moss, gave off a pale white gleam in
the darkness. Stools were drawn up around it. A  group  of  young  boys  and
girls - some the same age as Obi-Wan, some younger - sat eating  from  bowls
at the makeshift table.

A tall boy with close-cropped dark  hair  noticed  their  entrance.  He
stood.

[Image001]

"\ found them," their rescuer announced.

The boy nodded. "Welcome, Jedi," he said solemnly. "We are the Young."

Around them, the walls seemed to move. Shapes took form and became boys
and girls, appearing out of the shadows and from behind the tombs to  gather
around Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon.

Startled, Obi-Wan gazed around at their faces. Most of them  were  thin
and dressed in rags. All wore makeshift weapons tied onto belts or  shoulder
holsters. They gazed at him curiously, without any attempt to be polite.

The tall boy moved forward. He wore a battered chestplate  of  plastoid
armor. "I am Nield. I lead the Young. This is Cerasi."

Their rescuer threw back the hood, and Obi-Wan saw that she was a  girl
of about his age. Her copper hair was cut short and ragged. She had a  small
face with a pointed chin. Her pale green eyes were like crystals, glittering
even in the dark vault.

"Thank you for rescuing us," Qui-Gon said. "Now, can you  tell  us  why
you did?"

"You would have been a pawn in the game of  war,"  Nield  said  with  a
shrug. "We prefer that the game be over."

"I saw graffiti on walls about  the  Young,"  Obi-Wan  said.  "Are  you
Melida or Daan?"

Cerasi shook her head. "We are everyone," she said,  lifting  her  chin
proudly.

"And you want the war to stop?" Qui-Gon asked.

"There is a cease-fire," Obi-Wan pointed out.

Nield waved his hand. "The war will start again. Tomorrow, next week-it
always does. Even the oldest  among  the  elders  don't  remember  what  the
original grievance was. They don't remember why the  war  began.  They  only
remember the battles. They keep archives and go once a week to  remind  each
other of the blood that has been spilled. They used to make us go, too."

"The Halls of Evidence," Obi-Wan said, nodding.

"Yes, they pour money into those halls while the  cities  decay  around
us," Nield said contemptuously. "While the children starve and the  ill  die
for lack of med supplies. Both Melida and Daan use up huge  tracts  of  land
while there is no land left to farm, no land left that has not been  scarred
by war or taken up by the preparation for more war."

"Yet they go on fighting," Cerasi put in. "The hatred never stops."

"And who do our glorious leaders defend?" Nield asked. "Only the dead."
He gestured at the tombs. "The dead are everywhere on Melida/

Daan. We have no spaces left to put them. This is an old burial ground,
and there are many others above us. The Young are for the living. It  is  up
to us to take back the planet. The middle generation is gone -  our  parents
are dead. Any who are left have joined with the elders to keep on  fighting.
Right now the tactics are sniping and sabotage, since most of  the  weaponry
and ammunition were depleted in the last great battle."

"There are hardly any starfighters left," Cerasi told them.  "Both  the
Melida and the Daan are pouring whatever money they have into  factories  to
make more weapons. They are forcing children  to  work  in  them.  They  are
forcing  anyone  over  fourteen  to  join  the  army.  That's  why  we  came
underground. It was either this or die."

Obi-Wan gazed around the vault at the  faces  of  the  boys  and  girls
around him. From what he had seen in his short time on the planet,  he  knew
that Nield and Cerasi were right The elders were destroying the planet.  The
time-honored moral law of improving a world for future generations  did  not
hold here. Even children were sacrificed to hatred. Obi-Wan admired them for
fighting back.

"That's why we saved you  from  Wehutti,"  Nield  explained.  "The  War
Council was planning to use the two of you as hostages  to  force  the  Jedi
Council to back a Melida government.

They hoped to force you to speak on  their  behalf  in  the  Senate  on
Coruscant."

"Then he does not know the Jedi," Qui-Gon remarked.

A slender boy spoke up. "He doesn't know anything," he said in a joking
tone. "He's a Melida."

Nield sprang forward like a shot from a blaster rifle. He  wrapped  two
hands around the boy's neck and picked him up off the floor. The boy's  feet
flailed out as Nield squeezed his  throat.  The  boy's  eyes  widened  in  a
desperate plea. He let out an anguished croaking noise, trying  to  get  air
into his lungs. Nield squeezed harder.

Qui-Gon took a step forward, but at  that  moment  Nield  loosened  his
grip. The boy fell to the floor, gasping.

"No talk like that here," Nield said. "Ever. We  are  everyone.  Towan,
you'll sleep for three days in Drain Two for that."

The boy nodded, his hands on his throat protectively, trying to gasp in
air. No one looked at him as he  slinked  to  the  back  of  the  group  and
disappeared into the shadows.

"We will help you locate Tahl," Nield said,  calmly  returning  to  the
conversation as though nothing had happened. "But you must help us, too."

Obi-Wan had to stop himself from crying out, Of  course  we  will  help
you! It was up to his Master to do that. Never in any mission had he  met  a
cause that seemed so just. They had been  sent  here  to  rescue  Tahl,  but
surely if they could continue her mission as guardian of peace  they  should
do so. It was in the galaxy's best interest to stabilize the  planet.  Nield
was offering them a chance to do this as well as their primary  mission.  He
waited for Qui-Gon to speak. All the faces in the vault  turned  expectantly
to the tall, rugged Jedi Knight.

"We have spoken to the  Melida,"  Qui-Gon  said  cautiously.  "We  have
spoken to you. But we have not received a complete picture of what  goes  on
here. I cannot promise you help until I have seen something of the Daan."

It took a moment for Qui-Gon's words to  sink  in.  Then  Nield's  face
flushed with anger. "You want to  see  something  of  the  Daan?"  he  asked
challengingly. "I am a Daan. Come with me. I'll show you that the  Daan  are
no better than the Melida. And no worse."

Cerasi led the way through the tunnels again, away from  the  direction
they had come in, straight into Daan territory.

"Cerasi knows every step of these tunnels,"  Nield  explained  as  they
followed behind her. His earlier anger had passed as quickly as it had come.
"She was the first to come down here to live."

"Why did she leave her life above ground?" Qui-Gon asked.

"She saw the way things are, as I did," Nield answered.  "There  is  no
life for us up there. Down here we have muck and filth, but we  have  hope."
His teeth gleamed in the darkness as he smiled. "It may seem strange to you,
but we're happier here."

"It's not strange at all," Obi-Wan said.

"Was it the Young who shored up the tun-

nels?" Qui-Gon asked. "The work seems recent."

Nield nodded before squeezing through a small opening, then waited  for
them to enter the new tunnel. "We did it bit by bit,  piece  by  piece.  The
tunnels were built during the Eighteenth Battle of Zehava. The Daan expanded
the water and sewage tunnels and broke through into the  underground  burial
vaults from the Tenth War, working secretly at night  to  enter  the  Melida
sector. That's when the city was divided between north and south.  They  won
that battle."

"And then the Nineteenth Battle of Zehava was fought barely six  months
later," Cerasi said, overhearing them. "The battles never stop.  They  never
will, unless we act."

Cerasi paused. Light filtered down from a crack in the stone  overhead.
"Here."

Qui-Gon eyed the curved ceiling of the tunnel. "Where?"

Cerasi undipped a ring of tension cord  from  her  belt.  She  expertly
tossed the cord above and, with a flicking motion of her wrist,  wrapped  it
around a hook embedded in the mortar of the ceiling. Cerasi tested it,  then
glanced at Qui-Gon and flashed him a grin. "Don't worry, it will  even  hold
you."

She scrambled up the cord, hand over hand.

When she had almost reached the top, she swung out from  the  cord  and
hooked her fingers into the crack in the stone. She remained there, pressing
her face against the crack.

"All clear," she called down softly. She pushed  off  and  swung  hard,
tilting her body back until she was almost upside down. Using her  momentum,
she kicked at the stone with her feet.  It  dislodged,  and  with  her  next
swing, she gave it a more gentle kick to move it out  of  the  way.  Qui-Gon
heard a thud as the stone hit the ground overhead. On her next swing, Cerasi
easily hooked her feet into the opening, then bent her body to swing herself
out.

The whole operation had taken maybe  thirty  seconds.  Qui-Gon  admired
Cerasi's agility and strength.

She popped her head back down. "Nothing to it."

One by one, the remaining three pulled themselves up the cord and  then
swung out of the opening. They were not  quite  as  graceful  and  swift  as
Cerasi, but they made it.

Qui-Gon found himself in a storeroom located in a service  building  in
back of an abandoned estate. It was a clever place to hide  an  entrance  to
the tunnels.

Now Nield led the way, since he was  familiar  with  the  Daan  sector.
"Don't worry," he told the

Jedi. "I'm a Daan,  and  many  know  me  here.  You're  safer  in  Daan
territory. At least the Daan don't want to take you hostage."

Now that Qui-Gon had more time, he was able to study  the  Daan  sector
more closely. It didn't  seem  that  much  different  than  the  Inner  Hub.
Abandoned, bombed-out buildings. Barricades. Food shortages  in  the  shops.
And everywhere people going about their daily  lives  with  old  and  ragged
weapons strapped to chests, hips, and ankles. He  did  not  see  many  faces
younger than sixty or older than twenty.

"This used to be a beautiful city,"  Nield  remarked,  sadness  in  his
voice. "I've seen drawings and hologram recreations.  It's  been  completely
rebuilt seven times. When I was very young, I remember  trees  and  blossoms
and even a museum that had nothing to do with the dead."

"There were no barricades for five years," Cerasi said  softly.  "Daans
and Melidas mixed in both sectors. In some  neighborhoods  they  even  lived
side by side. Then the Twenty-Fifth Battle of Zehava began."

"What about your parents, Cerasi?" Obi-Wan asked.

Cerasi's expression was  hard  for  Qui-Gon  to  read.  She  seemed  to
struggle with the decision to share even a part of her story. "Their hatred

destroyed them, like so many others. My mother died while conducting  a
sniper raid. My brother was sent to the  country  to  work  in  a  munitions
factory, I have not heard a word from him since."

"And your father?"

Cerasi's face smoothed out,  became  bland.  "He  is  dead,"  she  said
colorlessly.

A story there, Qui-Gon thought. Each of the Young, he  realized,  would
have a similar one, full of sorrow and tragedy, of parents  lost  too  soon,
families fractured. That was the bond between them.

Ahead, Qui-Gon saw a glimpse of blue water. They  walked  down  a  wide
boulevard, leaping over large holes where proton torpedoes had fallen.

"This is Lake Weir," Nield said. "I used to come swimming here  when  I
was little. Now you'll see what the Daan have done."

As they drew closer, the patch of blue Qui-Gon had glimpsed between two
buildings widened, and he could see that the lake was quite large. It  would
have been a beautiful expanse, except  for  the  low,  massive  ebony  stone
building that floated slightly above the water by repulsor-posts.

"Another Hall of Evidence," Nield said, disgusted. "This was  the  last
remaining body of

water within a thousand kilometers. Now no one can  enjoy  it  but  the
dead."

The wind ruffled Nield's hair as he gazed at the scene.  His  disgusted
look softened to one of sadness, and Qui-Gon imagined that a memory  of  one
of those swim& had surfaced. He was  suddenly  struck  by  how  young  Nield
looked. Underground, his manner had made him seem older  than  Obi-Wan,  but
they were about the same age.

Qui-Gon gave a quick glance at Cerasi. Her  slender,  pretty  face  was
pale, almost drawn, but he could still see the young child she'd once  been.
They were all so young, he thought in sorrow. Too young for the task  they'd
set themselves - to right centuries of wrong, to save  a  world  cracked  by
tension and strife.

"Come," Nield said. "Let's see the happy dead speak."

He strode forward* and they followed. He entered  the  stone  door  and
walked quickly down the aisles, past monument after monument.  He  activated
hologram after hologram but did not stop to hear their tales.  Their  voices
filled the huge chamber, echoing with their stories of revenge  and  hatred.
Nield began to run, pressing globe after globe to activate the ghosts.

Finally, he stopped in front of the last holo-

gram he'd activated. It was  a  tall  man  with  shoulder-length  hair,
wearing armor.

"I am Micae, son of Terandi of Garth,  from  the  North  Country,"  the
hologram said. "I was but a boy when the Melida invaded Garth and herded  my
people into camps. There, many died, including -"

"And why did the Melida do that, you fool?" Nield  mocked  the  figure,
drowning out the list of the dead. "Perhaps because the Daan soldiers in the
North Country attacked  the  Melida  settlements  without  warning,  killing
hundreds?"

The warrior's tale went on. "- and my mother died that day without ever
being reunited with my father. My father died in the  great  Battle  of  the
Plains, avenging the great wrong of the Melida  during  the  Battle  of  the
North -"

"-Which had taken place a century before!" Nield scoffed.

"- and today I go to battle with my three sons. My youngest son is  too
young to join us. I fight today so that he may never have to fight -"

"Fat chance!" Nield jeered.

"We seek justice, not vengeance. And  that  is  why  I  know  we  shall
triumph." The warrior raised his fist, then opened it in a gesture of peace.

"Liars and fools!" Nield shouted. He turned

abruptly away from the hologram. "Let's get out of here. I  can't  bear
their stupid voices any more."

They walked out into the open air. Gray clouds were  massing  overhead,
and the water looked almost as black as the great hall  that  floated  above
it, casting a long shadow. It was hard to tell where the building ended  and
the water began.

"Do you see?" Nield demanded of Qui-Gon. "They  will  never  stop.  The
Young are this world's only hope. I know the Jedi are  wise.  You  must  see
that our cause is just. Don't we deserve a chance?"

Nield's golden eyes burned with fervor. Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan.  He
saw that the boy had been not  only  moved  by  Nield's  words,  but  deeply
stirred.

That made him uneasy. Though a Jedi's heart could be  touched,  it  was
his duty to remain unbiased and calm. The situation here was complicated and
volatile. They would need clear heads to navigate it. His instinct told  him
it was better not to take sides.

But there was the question of Tahl. Rescue was their  primary  mission.
Nield had promised his help. Could he deliver on his promise?

"I know where Tahl is being held," Nield said,

almost as though he'd read Qui-Gon's mind. "She is alive."

"You can get us to this place?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Cerasi can," Nield said. "It is heavily guarded. But I have a plan  to
take care of that. While you are rescuing Tahl,  the  Young  will  launch  a
surprise attack."

"I am not sure how surprising an attack would be, given that the Melida
know that the Jedi are on the loose," Qui-Gon said. "They will be  expecting
it."

"But they will not be expecting a Daan attack."

"Are the Daan planning to attack?" Obi-Wan asked.

"No," Nield answered. "But that doesn't mean  the  Melida  can't  think
they are. Our plan is to stage diversionary attacks in both the  Melida  and
Daan sectors. The Melida will think that the Daan  are  attacking  and  send
their forces out into the streets to defend themselves. The Daan will do the
same. I promise you confusion and chaos. Then you can go after Tahl."

"But you have no weapons," Obi-Wan said. "How do you expect to attack?"

"We have a plan," Nield said mysteriously. "All we ask  of  you  is  to
stay in the vault and not contact the Melida. Right now they are search-

ing for you everywhere. It is better that their  forces  be  busy  with
that chore so that we can do our work."

"So you see how easy we're making this for you?" Cerasi asked. "All  we
ask is that you do nothing."

"We'll take care of the diversion," Nield continued. "You take care  of
Tahl. I also know that her wounds were severe. She needs medical attention."

Annoyed, Qui-Gon gazed out at the water to buy time. He knew Nield  was
blackmailing him, forcing him to bend to his wishes so  that  Qui-Gon  could
fulfill his mission. He had been out-maneuvered by a child.

And Obi-Wan, he saw, was enjoying  it.  Another  curl  of  apprehension
registered along his spine.

He turned back to Nield and Cerasi. "All right," he said. "Obi-Wan  and
I will wait for you to bring us  to  Tahl.  Our  primary  objective  is  her
rescue. After that, you're on your own. Is that good enough?"

Nield grinned. "It is all we need."

Back at the tunnel, preparations began. Nield and Cerasi  huddled  with
the rest of the Young, deep in conversation.  Obi-Wan  sat  quietly  at  the
table, watching them.  The  determination  on  their  faces  told  him  that
whatever the outcome, the Daan and  the  Melida  were  both  in  for  a  big
surprise at dawn the next day.

Qui-Gon paced on the other side of the room, displaying a rare show  of
impatience.

"If you need help with strategy-" he began.

Cerasi turned. "No," she said curtly. "We don't need any help."

"Another opinion can only strengthen your odds," Qui-Gon said quietly.

This time, Cerasi didn't bother to turn. Nield did not even look up.

"We do not want your help, Jedi," Cerasi said, even more  sharply  than
before.

Obi-Wan glanced at Qui-Gon to gauge his re-

action. He saw his Master struggle with his  irritation.  But  although
Qui-Gon could be impulsive, he was never petty. The irritation left him, and
his usual mask of calm returned.

"Padawan, I am going to explore the tunnels," he told Obi-Wan in a  low
voice. "It is better not to rely totally on  the  Young  to  guide  us.  You
remain here."

Obi-Wan nodded. For once, he  didn't  want  to  accompany  Qui-Gon.  He
wanted to stay and watch the Young plan the battle.

Cerasi divided the young people into teams  and  assigned  them  tasks.
They worked on makeshift weapons fashioned from scraps. Their most prominent
weapon was a powerful slingshot that threw laserballs. The balls could  only
sting a life-form if they connected, but if they hit  a  hard  object,  they
made a sound like blaster fire.

Over the course of the afternoon, Obi-Wan tried to  grow  used  to  the
muffled sound of explosions. War toys were part of  the  childhood  of  both
Melida and Daan. The Young  were  modifying  them  to  amplify  their  sound
effects. They worked in the rooms branching off the main tunnel  on  missile
tubes, packing them with pebbles and paint.

Cerasi worked on a pile of slingshots in a corner, honing them  with  a
sharp knife and testing their accuracy with wadded up flimsiplast. The

flimsiplast winged across the high space, hitting the same stone  block
with deadly accuracy. Cerasi worked tirelessly, without a break.

"I'd like to help," Obi-Wan said, approaching her. "Not with strategy,"
he added quickly. "I know you have that under control. But I can  help  with
this."

Cerasi pushed a lock of hair from her  eyes  and  smiled  slightly.  "I
guess I was hard on your Boss-Master, huh?"

"He's not my boss, really," Obi-Wan said. "That's  not  the  Jedi  way.
He's more of a guide."

"Sure, whatever you say. But if you ask me, elders  always  think  they
know best. They just get in the way." She handed a knife to Obi-Wan. "If you
can hone it to the same thickness as the ones I did, we could get these done
in a flash."

Obi-Wan sat and began to scrape the  knife  against  the  supple  wood.
"What do you think our chances of success are tomorrow?"

"Excellent," Cerasi said firmly. "We're relying on the  hatred  of  the
two sectors. All we need to do is create the illusion of battle. Both  sides
will react without bothering to verify reports of blaster fire  and  torpedo
launches. They expect warfare at any moment."

"Your battle may be an  illusion,  but  the  danger  is  not,"  Obi-Wan
pointed out. "Both sides will have real weapons to fire."

Cerasi shook her head. "I'm not afraid."

"Awareness of fear can protect  you  if  it  does  not  overtake  you,"
Obi-Wan replied.

Cerasi snorted. "Is that one of your Boss-Master's Jedi sayings?"

Obi-Wan flushed. "Yes. And I have found it to  be  true.  Awareness  of
fear is an instinct that warns you to be careful. Anyone going  into  battle
who says they are not afraid is a fool."

"Well, call me  a  fool,  Pada-Jedi,"  Cerasi  said  flatly.  "I'm  not
afraid."

"Ah," Obi-Wan said lightly. "You go into glorious battle without  fear,
confident that your filthy enemy will collapse."

He was repeating the vain boasts of the dead in the Halls of  Evidence,
and Cerasi knew it. She flushed as Obi-Wan had a moment before.

"More Jedi wisdom. It's a wonder you manage to survive  this  long,  if
you keep pointing out what foolish things people say," Cerasi  finally  said
with a half smile. "Okay, I get your point. I'm no better than my ancestors,
marching blindly into a battle I will lose."

"I'm not saying you will lose."

Cerasi paused, fully seeing Obi-Wan for the first  time.  "Well,  maybe
I'll feel afraid on the day of the battle. But today I feel ready.  This  is
the first step toward justice. I can't wait to take  it.  Do  you  have  any
wisdom about that?"

"No," Obi-Wan admitted. Cerasi was unlike anyone he'd ever met  before.
"Justice is something to fight for. If I didn't believe that, I wouldn't  be
a Jedi."

Cerasi put down her slingshot. "Being a Jedi is as much a part  of  you
as being part of the Young is to me," she observed, her crystal  green  eyes
studying him. "I guess the difference is  that  the  Young  don't  have  any
guides. We guide ourselves."

"Being an apprentice is a journey  that  is  an  honor  to  undertake,"
Obi-Wan replied. But he feared his words were weak. He was  used  to  saying
them and believing them with his whole heart. Being a Jedi was at  the  core
of him. But in just a few hours with the Young, he  had  seen  a  commitment
that had confused him as much as it had stirred him.

Of course, he had seen deep commitment at the  Temple  among  the  Jedi
students. But with some students, there often seemed to be pride  mixed  in.
They were the elite, picked out of millions to be trained.

Whenever Yoda saw pride in a Jedi student, he found ways to  expose  it
and put the student on the right path. Pride was often based  in  arrogance,
and had no place in a Jedi. Part of the Jedi training was to eliminate pride
and substitute sureness and humility. The Force only flour-

ished in those who knew they were connected to all life-forms.

Here in the tunnels, Obi-Wan saw a pureness he had only glimpsed in his
talks with Yoda, or his observance of Qui-Gon. That pureness was  in  people
his own age. They did not have to strive for it. They possessed it.  Perhaps
because the cause they believed in was more than a concept in  their  minds.
It was bred in their blood and bones, born in their suffering.

He felt defensive, as though Cerasi had attacked his dedication to  the
Jedi way. "Nield is the leader of the Young," he pointed out. "So you,  too,
have a boss."

"Nield is the best at  strategy,"  Cerasi  said.  "If  we  didn't  have
someone to organize us, we would fall apart."

"And someone to punish you?" Obi-Wan asked, remembering how  Nield  had
almost strangled a boy.

Cerasi hesitated. Her voice softened as she continued. "Nield may  seem
harsh to you, but he has to be. Hatred was taught  to  us  before  we  could
walk. We have to be firm to stamp it out. Our vision of a new world can only
survive if our hatred dies. We must forget everything  we  were  taught.  We
must begin again. Nield knows this better than anyone. Perhaps because  he's
had it harder than any of us here."

"In what way?" Obi-Wan asked.

Cerasi sighed. She put down the slingshot she'd been working on.  "That
last hologram he triggered -the one he mocked -was Nield's father.  He  went
into battle with Nield's three brothers. They all died. Nield was five years
old. One month later his mother made preparations to be  part  of  the  next
great battle. She left him with a cousin, a young girl who was more  like  a
sister to him. His mother went off to fight, and she was killed,  too.  Then
the Melida invaded his village. His cousin escaped and took him  to  Zehava.
He had a few peaceful years, but then the Daan attacked the  Melida  sector,
and his cousin had to fight. She was seventeen, old enough then.  She  died,
too. Nield was left on the streets to fend for himself. He was  eight  years
old. There were those who tried to care  for  him.  He  wouldn't  live  with
anyone, but he did take shelter and food when he needed it. He  didn't  want
to depend on anyone ever again. Can you blame him?"

Obi-Wan pictured all those people who loved Nield - all of them  dying,
one after the other. "No," he said softly. "I don't blame him at all."

Cerasi sighed. "The point is, I was raised to  think  of  the  Daan  as
beasts, barely human. Nield was the first Daan I knew. He was  the  one  who
united both the Daan and the Melida or-

phans. He walked into the care centers and gathered them  up,  promised
them freedom and peace. Then he made sure they had it. If they had stayed in
the care center, eventually they'd be taken in a sweep."

"A sweep?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Both Melida and Daan rely on the orphaned children for factory work or
conscription, if they're old enough," Cerasi said flatly. "They either  work
or fight. It's easy to find them in the city care centers. In the towns  and
villages, the children just run away."

"Where do they go?"

Cerasi frowned. "They live off the land and scavenge. There  are  whole
tribes of children beyond  the  city's  walls.  Nield  has  worked  hard  to
organize them, too. They keep in contact with stolen  comlinks.  They  don't
want any more war." Cerasi turned to him. "So you ask me what our chances of
success will be, and I know I answered you. But truly, I can't even think of
chances or odds. We will succeed because we have to. Our world is becoming a
wasteland, Obi-Wan. Only we can stop it."

Obi-Wan nodded. He felt himself beginning to understand Cerasi. He  saw
that her brusque-ness masked deep feeling.

"We could use your help, though," Cerasi went on. "You have ties to the
Jedi Council, and

they have ties to Coruscant. You can show the entire  galaxy  that  our
cause is just. Jedi support means everything."

"Cerasi, I can't promise  you  Jedi  support,"  Obi-Wan  said  quietly.
Surprising himself, he put his hand over  hers.  "I  can  only  promise  you
mine."

Her bright gaze held his.  "Why  don't  you  come  with  Nield  and  me
tomorrow? We're doing the first raid into Daan territory."

Obi-Wan hesitated. As a Jedi apprentice, he would be breaking the rules
if he agreed without asking Qui-Gon's permission. But if he  asked,  Qui-Gon
would most likely refuse.

He had already broken the rules by pledging his own support  to  Cerasi
and her cause. That promise could conflict with the Jedi mission.

But he couldn't help himself. The cause of the Young spoke directly and
urgently to his heart. As a Jedi, he didn't fight for his  own  family,  his
own world, or his own people. He fought for what Yoda and the Council -  and
Qui-Gon - decided he should fight for.

Cerasi and Nield had defined their own  struggle.  Obi-Wan  was  struck
with a pang of deep envy for them. He had spent  so  much  time  with  those
older than himself. He had listened so often to their wisdom.  Now  he  felt
welcomed back into something different. He could be a

part of a community here - he hadn't realized  how  much  he  missed  a
community of boys and girls his own age.

Cerasi's hand felt warm beneath his own. Her fingers were  slender  and
delicate. Suddenly they intertwined with his and squeezed, and he felt their
strength.

"Will you come?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "I will."

That night, the Young rolled sleeping quilts onto  the  tombs.  Qui-Gon
found an open space near one of the adjacent tunnel entrances, where the air
was fresh.

Obi-Wan approached him awkwardly. "Nield and Cerasi have  asked  me  to
share their quarters," he said. "They watch over the youngest children."

Qui-Gon gave him a  questioning  look,  but  he  nodded.  "Sleep  well,
Padawan."

Obi-Wan picked up a sleeping quilt and returned to  Nield  and  Cerasi.
They slept in a small anteroom off the vault. Nield put a finger to his lips
as Obi-Wan entered.

"The children are asleep," he whispered.  "We  should  be  sleeping  as
well. We'll need all our rest for tomorrow." He put his hand on Obi-

Wan's forearm. "Cerasi told me you will join us. I'm honored."

"It is my honor to help you," Obi-Wan answered.

He settled himself on the floor next to Nield and Cerasi. He thought he
wouldn't be able to sleep, but the children's quiet breathing lulled him.

It was hard to tell what time it was when he awoke.  Cerasi  rose  from
her sleeping area and leaned over Nield to touch  his  shoulder.  Nield  was
already awake and stood immediately.

Obi-Wan stood as well. He was ready. He was acting not as a  Jedi,  but
as a person - a friend. He grabbed his lightsaber and the  slingshot  Cerasi
had given him the night before. There was  an  entrance  from  the  anteroom
directly into the tunnel toward Daan. Qui-Gon wouldn't see him leave.

Obi-Wan knew he was wrong not to ask permission, but he wasn't sure how
angry Qui-Gon would be when he discovered he was gone.  After  all,  Qui-Gon
himself had offered to help with strategy for the battle.

Obi-Wan was glad he'd made the decision as he joined Nield  and  Cerasi
on the deserted streets of the Daan-controlled Outer Circle. The three moved
as one unit in the chilly early

morning air. They walked purposefully down the deserted streets,  their
soft footfalls barely making a sound. Nield and Cerasi had  already  decided
on their first targets.

They shimmied up a pipe and climbed onto the roof of a  dwelling.  From
here, they could see the sun, more a suggestion of gathering  light  than  a
source of radiance.

"I hate to wake everybody up," Nield said, flashing a grin.

"It's time they were out of bed anyway." Cerasi held up a  toy  missile
tube. "I'm ready."

Obi-Wan had clipped various projectiles onto his belt. He  stuffed  one
into the missile tube.  The  projectiles  had  been  fashioned  around  tiny
amplifiers so that the sound they made when they hit would mimic  the  sound
of a real proton missile. Cerasi and Nield had chosen a  street  that  would
echo the sound.

"Let's go," Obi-Wan agreed.

Cerasi aimed the toy missile  at  the  abandoned  building  across  the
street. She fired.

The loud sound of the explosion surprised them.

"Listen to that. It worked!" Nield exulted.

He fit a laserball into his slingshot and fired at the wall across  the
street. The unmistakable ping ping ping of  blaster  fire  erupted.  Obi-Wan
quickly stuffed another projectile into the tube

and Cerasi shot it off. The blam echoed off the building fronts below.

Nield continued to shoot laserballs from  his  slingshot,  and  Obi-Wan
followed suit. They shot ball after ball, reloading and firing rapidly.  The
sound of blaster fire echoed down the street. Someone emerged  from  a  door
across the way and looked up and down the street quickly. Nield and  Obi-Wan
shot a rain of laserballs into an abandoned building, where no one would see
them land.

Crackcrackcrack! The laserballs hit the solid surface, making  an  even
louder sound. The Daan quickly ducked back into the building.

"He'll sound an alert," Nield said. "We're done here. Let's go."

Jumping from building to building, they made their way to another quiet
street. They repeated the procedure, then moved on. Racing now,  they  fired
down randomly with laserballs while  Cerasi  shot  projectiles  where  their
explosive sound would echo the most. While they moved from block  to  block,
they shifted barricades where they could to block any military vehicles.  At
checkpoints, they rained their false  weapon-fire  over  the  heads  of  the
guards, who  took  defensive  postures,  sweeping  the  empty  streets  with
infrared electrobinoculars to look for the unseen attackers.

The sun rose, and sirens began to sound over the city. Nield turned  to
them. The rising sun reflected red off his  dark  hair.  "Now  for  military
headquarters."

Excitement coursed through Obi-Wan. It was almost  like  a  game,  this
ruse that Nield and Cerasi  had  concocted.  But  now  the  game  would  get
serious. Hitting a military target, even  with  fake  explosives,  would  be
dangerous.

Nield  led  the  way  across  the  rooftops  to   the   Daan   military
headquarters. From the roof of a building across the street,  Obi-Wan  could
see soldiers running toward  landspeeders,  carrying  blasters  and  torpedo
launchers. Obviously, they were hurrying to investigate the many alarms that
had sprung up.

"So far, so good," Cerasi breathed. "There won't be  as  many  soldiers
around."

This part would be tricky. They would not be firing at houses  full  of
sleeping civilians. The military would react swiftly. But Nield had  pointed
out that if they did not convince the  military  that  an  attack  had  been
launched, their plan wouldn't work. If the military thought they were  under
fire as well, they might conclude that this was not random sniper fire,  but
a full-scale attack.

In addition to Nield, Cerasi, and Obi-Wan, other groups  of  the  Young
should have been

heading out to other Daan and Melida neighborhoods. Their attacks would
be launched simultaneously with the attack on military headquarters.

They waited until the soldiers had taken off  in  their  speeders.  Two
guards stood outside behind transparent armored shields. Cerasi  loaded  her
beam tube. Obi-Wan and Nield placed laser-balls in their slingshots. On  the
whispered count of three from Cerasi, they fired.

The laserballs hit  the  building,  sounding  like  blaster  fire.  The
projectile boomed. Already, the  three  had  loaded  and  shot  again,  then
quickly scuttled back on their hands and knees and ran to the  edge  of  the
roof to jump to the adjoining building. They fired again.

Soldiers streamed out of the building in full plastoid armor,  blasters
in hand. Electro-binoculars were trained on the street and buildings  above.
Armored plates  rattled  down  over  windows  and  doors.  A  siren  blasted
insistently. Soldiers began to spread out down the street. Floaters took off
for air surveillance.  Armored  vehicles  poured  out  from  an  underground
holding station.

"It's time to get out of here," Cerasi said.

Stuffing the toys and slingshots into their belts, they  dashed  across
the rooftop and quickly

shimmied down a drainpipe. When they hit the street, they slowed  their
pace, trying to look like Daan teenagers out for a morning walk.

"You there! Halt!"

They froze. The voice had come from  behind  them.  Nield  had  already
given them identity cards, so they thought they'd be able  to  pass.  Cerasi
slipped a package out of her tunic. Obi-Wan glanced at her, puzzled. Did she
have a weapon? Of course, he had his lightsaber, but he would never be  able
to take on the troops swarming over the  streets.  He  would  only  endanger
Cerasi and Nield.

They turned and saw three soldiers  approaching  them,  blasters  aimed
straight at their hearts.

"Identity cards," one soldier said in  a  clipped  tone.  Quickly,  the
three handed them over. Nield had given Obi-Wan a disc from a Daan  boy  who
was his age and weight. The soldiers  inserted  the  discs  into  a  readout
machine. Obi-Wan waited for them to hand them back, but instead,  the  first
soldier gave a look at the other two to keep them. He was still  suspicious.
He gave Nield, Cerasi, and Obi-Wan a hard look.

"Is there anything wrong?" Nield asked worriedly.

"What do you have there?" The first soldier pointed at Cerasi's package
with his blaster.

"M-muja muffins," Cerasi stammered nervously. She held out the package.
"For breakfast. We go every morning."

"Let me see." The soldier  opened  the  top  of  the  package.  Inside,
Obi-Wan saw a row of muffins wrapped in napkins.

"What's on your belts?" the other soldier asked. "Aren't you  a  little
old for toys?"

"We're practicing for the army," Nield answered. He  lifted  his  chin.
"We can't wait to fight the filthy Melida."

"What's that?" the soldier pointed to Obi-Wan's lightsaber.

Obi-Wan held it up and activated  it.  "The  newest  toy  on  Gala.  My
grandfather sells them over on Victory Street."

The soldiers eyed it. "We never had toys like that when we were young,"
the first said ruefully.

"In the  next  battle  of  Zehava,  the  Daan  will  prevail!"  Obi-Wan
answered, waving his lightsaber.

"We might be in the next battle of Zehava right now, so hurry along and
take shelter," the third soldier said gruffly.  He  handed  Nield  back  his
identity card and motioned for the other soldiers to do the same.  "You  may
be fighting with real weapons before long."

The three soldiers marched off, their corn-links crackling with reports
of more attacks in the city.

"That was close," Cerasi breathed.  "I'm  glad  I  brought  those  muja
muffins. It gave us a reason to be on the street so early."

"And I thought you brought them in case I was hungry," Obi-Wan  managed
to tease. His heartbeat was returning to normal. He  didn't  want  to  think
about how Qui-Gon would have reacted if he had been captured by the Daan.

"That was a smart move, to activate that lightsaber and call it a toy,"
Nield said to Obi-Wan. "Lucky for you they were too dumb to realize you were
a Jedi."

Cerasi eyed him. "I have a feeling Obi-Wan was ready to use it."

Nield grinned broadly. "I have a feeling he can save us all."

The three laughed together  in  relief.  Obi-Wan  felt  a  current  run
between himself and Cerasi and Nield. Even though he was still in danger, he
had never felt so free.

[Image002]

Qui-Gon sat in the shadows, watching the furious activity of the  Young
as they dashed in and out of the vault for supplies,  then  hurried  out  to
return to the streets above.

Something had woken him before dawn, a soft flurry of movement. He  had
seen Obi-Wan leave with Cerasi and Nield. He had let his Padawan go.

It would  have  been  easy  to  step  forward  and  challenge  Obi-Wan.
Qui-Gon's anger had surged, and he had wanted to confront the  boy.  Obi-Wan
had no right to leave without permission. He had violated  Qui-Gon's  trust.
It was a small violation, but it stung.

He and Obi-Wan had not yet achieved the perfect mind-communion  of  the
Master-Padawan relationship. They had merely taken a few  steps  on  a  long
journey together. They occasionally had disagreements and misunderstandings.
But

Obi-Wan had never deliberately concealed something from him before.

Obviously, Obi-Wan was afraid that Qui-Gon would not let  him  go.  The
boy was right; he would  have  forbidden  it.  Qui-Gon  believed  the  Young
sincerely wanted peace, but he wasn't sure if they would follow through with
their good intentions if they gained any sort of power. He saw much anger in
them. Obi-Wan saw only passion.

At last Nield, Cerasi, and Obi-Wan returned. Qui-Gon  let  out  a  slow
breath of relief. He had started to worry.

"Time for phase two," Nield said as the three entered the vault. "We go
for the weapon storage of both sides."

"What about Tahl?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Cerasi will lead you to Tahl," Nield said. "Deila?"

A tall, slender girl paused as she loaded more projectiles into pouches
that hung from her belt. "Yes?"

"How's it going on the Melida side?"

She grinned. "Chaos. They think the Daan are everywhere, even in  their
closets."

"Good." Nield turned back to Qui-Gon. "There should be enough confusion
for you to slip through. Cerasi will bring you, but you'll  have  to  rescue
Tahl on your own."

"That's fine," Qui-Gon agreed. He  didn't  want  to  put  the  girl  in
danger.

Obi-Wan didn't meet his Master's gaze as the two Jedi  followed  Cerasi
into a narrow tunnel that led off the vault. Qui-Gon pushed his anger aside.
He would not confront Obi-Wan about sneaking out. Not  yet.  He  turned  his
mind to the task ahead. He had to focus on Tahl now.

Cerasi led them through a maze of tunnels until they came to  a  grate.
Pale gray light filtered down.

"We are  underneath  the  building  where  Tahl  is  being  held,"  she
whispered. "This will lead you to a lower level of a military barracks. Tahl
is being held in a room three doors to  the  right.  There  will  be  guards
there, but probably not as many as  there  were  before.  Every  soldier  is
needed on the streets."

"How many were there before?" Qui-Gon asked in a low murmur.

"That's the bad news," Cerasi said ruefully. "She's guarded by only two
guards, but right around the corner is the main quarters for soldiers.  It's
where they come to eat and sleep. So there are  always  plenty  of  soldiers
walking back and forth.  That's  why  Nield  and  I  figured  you  needed  a
diversion." She pointed overhead. "The grate leads  directly  into  a  grain
storage area, so you can climb up without being seen."

"Thank you, Cerasi," Qui-Gon said quietly. "We can  find  our  own  way
back."

But when Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan emerged into a small storage area  crowded
with sacks of grain, Cerasi's head popped up out of the grate after them.

"I thought you were going back," Obi-Wan whispered.

She grinned. "I have a feeling you'll need my help."  She  dangled  her
slingshot. "A diversion might come in handy."

Obi-Wan returned her grin, but Qui-Gon frowned. "I don't  want  to  put
you in danger, Cerasi. This is not part of our deal. Nield said -"

"I make my own decisions, Qui-Gon," Cerasi interrupted.  "I'm  offering
my help. I know the layout. Will you accept my offer or not?" Cerasi's  chin
stuck out challengingly. Her crystal eyes glinted at Qui-Gon.

"All right," he said. "But if Obi-Wan and I get in trouble, you  leave.
Do you promise me?"

"I promise," Cerasi agreed.

Qui-Gon eased the door open a crack  and  surveyed  the  area.  A  long
hallway was lined with heavy metal doors. One soldier hurried down the  hall
and disappeared around a turning. Two soldiers were posted as guards outside
one of the doors. It was where Tahl was being held.

A soldier headed toward him, moving fast. Qui-Gon faded back, but  kept
close to the opening.

"Going back out there?" one of the guards asked.

"We've got an invasion on our hands," the soldier  said  curtly.  "Just
got news of an attack only two blocks away. I've got to find my unit."

The guards exchanged nervous glances. "We're sitting  ducks  in  here,"
the first one muttered. "We should be out there fighting.  This  duty  is  a
waste of time anyway. I don't care if she is a Jedi, she's too weak to be  a
threat."

"She's done for," the other guard said. "It won't be long."

Rage and pain rose in Qui-Gon. It couldn't be too late.  He  controlled
the anger and called on the Force to help him. He knew Obi-Wan was doing the
same, for the Force was suddenly a presence  in  the  room,  surging  around
them.

"Qui-Gon," Cerasi whispered. "I have an idea. Will you listen?"

"Do I have a choice?" Qui-Gon responded.

Cerasi moved closer and whispered her plan in his ear.

"All right," he said. "But then you leave. Agreed?"

Cerasi nodded. Then she eased open the door and slipped out.

It took a moment for the guards to notice her.

Cerasi hurried toward them, her expression stricken.

"Halt! "the guards called.

"What?" Cerasi asked, distracted. She kept on moving.

"Halt or we'll shoot!" the guards warned.

Cerasi stopped. She wrung her hands together. "But my father is here! I
have to see him!"

"Who is your father?"

Cerasi drew herself up. "Wehutti, the great hero. I must tell him  that
my aunt Sonie is dead. She was blown up by a foul Daan proton  grenade.  You
must let me pass!"

"You are Wehutti's daughter?"

"Yes, look. I have an identity card."  Cerasi  showed  the  guards  her
Melida card.

One of the guards took it, then swiped it down  his  readout.  When  he
handed it back to her, his voice was kind.

"I haven't seen Wehutti here. He's most likely on  the  streets.  We're
being invaded, you know."

"You think I don't know that?" Cerasi cried. "The Daan are  taking  the
Hub block by block. They'll be  here  any  minute.  I  need  my  father!  He
promised he'd be here if I needed him. He promised!" Cerasi's voice wobbled.
With her slight figure and her quavering voice, she seemed younger than  she
was.

The guards exchanged a glance. "All right. But then you've got to clear
out and seek shelter," the second one said.

Cerasi hurried down the hall and turned the corner.  A  moment  passed,
then another. Qui-Gon waited patiently. He had  confidence  in  Cerasi.  She
would need time to circle around to the other side of the guards.

Suddenly, the sound of blaster fire echoed  down  the  hallway  in  the
direction opposite  from  where  Cerasi  had  disappeared.  The  two  guards
exchanged glances.

"Daan!"  the  first  guard  hissed.  "The  girl  was   right!   They're
attacking!"

Qui-Gon was out the door, lightsaber in hand, before the  guards  could
turn and react. Obi-Wan raced alongside him.

The guards fired their blasters rapidly as soon as they saw  the  Jedi.
But they were too late. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon deflected the  fire  with  their
lightsabers without missing a step.

Moving in synch, they jumped the last few meters to  the  guards,  feet
first. Deflecting blaster fire with their lightsabers, they hit  the  guards
in the chest with a powerful kick. The  guards  flew  back,  their  blasters
flying out of their hands.

"Cover me," Qui-Gon instructed Obi-Wan crisply. He moved to  the  door.
As he began to

slice through the lock with his lightsaber, the  guards  recovered  and
reached for the electro-jabbers on their belts.

Obi-Wan didn't wait for them to rise. He leaped over them so that  they
would need to turn and twist to attack. He knocked the electro-jabber out of
one guard's hand with a kick and sliced down with his lightsaber toward  the
other. The guard howled and dropped his weapon.

"Don't move," Obi-Wan warned them, keeping his  lightsaber  over  their
heads.

The lock gave, and Qui-Gon pushed open the door. He  stopped,  stricken
at the heart by Tahl's appearance. She had gone through Temple training with
him. She had always been beautiful, a tall woman from the planet Noori, with
eyes striped gold and green and skin the color of dark honey.

Now she appeared thin and wasted. Her beautiful skin was  marred  by  a
white scar that ran from one eye and curved around her chin. The  other  eye
was covered with a patch.

"Tahl," he said, keeping his voice steady. "It's Qui-Gon."

"Ah, rescue at last," she said in the  gently  mocking  tone  that  had
always made him smile. "Do I look that bad, old friend?"

He realized then that she could not see.

"You look as lovely as ever,"  he  said.  "But  can  you  wait  on  the
compliments? My hands are full at the moment."

"I'm afraid I'm a little weak," Tahl confessed.

"I'll carry you." Qui-Gon scooped up Tahl in  his  arms.  She  felt  as
light as a child. "Can you hang onto my neck?" he asked.

He felt her nod as her arms tightened around him. "Just get me  out  of
here," she said. "I've had better food in a Hutt cantina."

Just then Qui-Gon heard the sound he'd hoped he wouldn't: rapid blaster
fire. Reinforcements had arrived. Obi-Wan was in trouble. His time  had  run
out.

He proceeded cautiously to the door. He peered out.

Six soldiers had charged out of their quarters  and  were  shooting  at
Obi-Wan from the end of the hall. Obi-Wan had flung  open  a  door  and  was
using it for cover. The soldiers had rearmed the two on the ground, so there
were now eight soldiers to fight.

"What's the bad news?" Tahl asked.

"Eight so far," Qui-Gon said. "Maybe more coming."

"Piece of cake for you," she said weakly.

"Just what I was about to say."

Blaster fire rebounded off the door that Obi-Wan crouched  behind.  The
doors were armored,

Obi-Wan realized. They could use that to their advantage.

Qui-Gon flung his own door wide open and stepped out behind it,  making
a  quick  calculation.  Obi-Wan  had  held  off  the  soldiers  so  far   by
periodically deflecting blaster fire back at them with his  lightsaber,  but
they would soon realize that he wasn't armed with a blaster.

Then they would rush him.

Qui-Gon looked over at Obi-Wan. It  was  time  to  take  the  offensive
again. But he couldn't endanger Tahl, and she was too  weak  to  walk.  They
were stuck. He would not leave Tahl. He didn't even want  to  put  her  down
again. If he was separated from her, he might not be  able  to  get  to  her
again.

"Leave me, Qui-Gon," Tahl murmured to him. "I'll be no worse off than I
was before. Do not let them capture you, too."

"Have a little faith, will you?" Qui-Gon countered gently.

Suddenly, blaster fire erupted from the opposite end of the  hall.  Now
they were surrounded!

But after a moment Qui-Gon realized that the blaster fire was  directed
at the soldiers.

Or, he realized suddenly, at least it sounded like blaster fire. Cerasi
hadn't left after creating a diversion, as she'd promised.

The soldiers dived around the corner for

cover. Qui-Gon glanced back down the other end  just  in  time  to  see
Cerasi fire another laser-ball. It hit the wall,  and  blaster  fire  echoed
down the hall.

The guards now fired blindly, unwilling  to  risk  exposure  by  coming
around the corner. Obi-Wan stepped out. He was easily able  to  deflect  the
wild shots with his lightsaber. Holding Tahl against his chest with one arm,
Qui-Gon raised his lightsaber to catch any blaster  fire  that  Obi-Wan  was
unable to deflect. Together they moved backward down the hallway toward  the
storage room.

As they moved, Obi-Wan flung open door after door. They swung  outward,
helping to block blaster fire. The soldiers kept up a steady stream of fire,
but Cerasi loaded and shot laser-balls just as fast, and the  soldiers  were
convinced they were under attack.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan reached the safety  of  the  storage  room.  Cerasi
dashed forward.

"Hurry," she urged. "I'm running low."

She continued shooting as Obi-Wan  slid  back  the  grate  and  Qui-Gon
climbed down one-handed, Tahl hugging his neck.

"Now! "Obi-Wan yelled.

Cerasi hurried down after Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan followed, setting the  grate
back in place.

"Thank you, Cerasi." Qui-Gon spoke quietly.

"We could not have done this without your bravery."

"Obi-Wan helped us this morning,"  Cerasi  replied  carelessly,  as  if
risking her life were nothing. "I just returned the favor."

"Why did you think of claiming to be Wehutti's daughter?" Obi-Wan asked
her as she led the way back.

"Because I am," Cerasi answered.

"But you said your father was dead," Obi-Wan pointed out.

"He is dead to me," Cerasi replied with a shrug. "But  occasionally  he
comes in handy. Just like most Elders."

She looked over her  shoulder  at  Obi-Wan  and  flashed  him  a  grin.
Obi-Wan's eyes shone back.

Qui-Gon saw in the moment of their exchange that something had deepened
between them. They were intimates  now,  communicating  without  words.  The
adventure they had shared that morning had united them.

Qui-Gon felt his earlier anger drain away. He supposed that Obi-Wan had
a lonely existence at times, traveling with someone older than  himself.  He
must miss being with boys and girls his own age. It was good that  he  could
bond so strongly with another.

Why should it make Qui-Gon so uneasy?

Qui-Gon settled Tahl into a nest of quilts and blankets, the  best  the
Young had to offer. He stood over her for a moment. She had tired  from  the
short battle and she fell asleep  almost  immediately.  He  could  feel  the
flicker of her living Force, but it was only a flicker. Tahl's memory of how
she got her injuries was gone. She remembered being caught in the middle  of
a battle, but she could not remember being wounded or blinded.

Qui-Gon sat back against the wall to think.  Their  mission  was  over.
They had only to wait until the fighting died down. Cerasi had  assured  him
that she could get the Jedi out of the city  without  endangering  Tahl.  He
would bring Tahl back to Coruscant and hope that the Jedi healing arts would
bring her back to the vibrant strength he remembered so well.

Qui-Gon knew he would leave behind a world

in chaos. Children battling to save  it.  Elders  locked  in  conflict,
willing to sacrifice the population for their cause.

Yet he must leave. His first duty was to get Tahl back. Then  he  would
ask Yoda's permission to return. The Jedi Master would not  grant  it,  most
likely. The Jedi did not go to worlds and meddle  in  their  affairs  unless
they were requested to do so. Only in extraordinary circumstances would they
interfere, or if a world was threatening the peace and security  of  others.
The inhabitants of Melida/Daan were locked in its conflict, hurting no other
world but their own.

Obi-Wan had asked permission to go above ground  with  Cerasi.  Qui-Gon
had granted it. He knew that when he told Obi-Wan that they must leave,  his
Padawan would not want to go. Yet Obi-Wan would obey him. It was  his  first
duty as a Padawan, and Obi-Wan was a Jedi to the bone.

Their mission was close to success. Yet foreboding lodged in  Qui-Gon's
chest like a heavy stone. His instinct was warning him,  but  he  could  not
place what the warning was, or how it would affect him.

He heard running footsteps, and Nield burst into the room with  Obi-Wan
and Cerasi. Qui-Gon was struck with how the three moved in

the same rhythm, their strides  matching  perfectly  despite  Obi-Wan's
long legs and Cerasi's more slender build.

"Gather around, everyone!" Nield cried. "We have news!"

Nield leaped up on top of the grandest tomb.  Boys  and  girls  swarmed
around him, coming from the strategy stations around the room and  from  the
adjoining tunnels. They turned expectant faces up to him.

"Our battle is over," Nield said. "We have achieved total victory!"

The Young cheered wildly. Nield held up a hand.

"Our raid on the weapons storehouse of the Daan was a success. We  have
stolen the weapons the Daan  did  not  waste  in  attacking  the  Melida  or
shooting at imaginary attackers. We have deposited them in the North Tunnel.
The Melida" Nield paused, grinned, "-blew up their own storehouses  so  that
the Daan would not get their weapons!"

The Young let out wild hoots of laughter. They shouted with joy.

"We have delivered our messages to both sides, letting them  know  that
the Young were behind the battles, and that we have  succeeded  in  stealing
their arms. Without weapons, the

Elders cannot fight each other. Today we have taken a giant step toward
peace!"

Exhilaration raced through the room like a current. Qui-Gon watched  as
Nield leaned down and grabbed Cerasi's hand. He pulled her up to stand  next
to him. Then he reached down for Obi-Wan. Smiling, Obi-Wan leaped up on  the
tomb to take his place beside the two leaders.

The Young reached up to touch his tunic. Obi-Wan reached down to  touch
their hands and accept their congratulations. He linked arms with Cerasi and
Nield. Never once did he glance at Qui-Gon. It was as though the Jedi Knight
wasn't in the room. It was as though Obi-Wan was not a Jedi.

It was as though he was part of them. As though he had  become  one  of
the Young.

Qui-Gon left the main room and found a  quiet  place  in  an  adjoining
tunnel to contact Yoda. The Jedi Master appeared in miniature hologram form.
Quickly, Qui-Gon filled him in on the situation and the rescue of Tahl.

Yoda passed a hand over his forehead in distress.  "Relieved  I  am  to
hear this news," he said. "Concerned I am to hear that Tahl is ailing. Needs
care, she does."

"I will leave as soon as  she's  stronger  and  it  is  safe,"  Qui-Gon
promised. "But I leave a situation here on Melida/Daan that is volatile."

Yoda nodded several times. "Heard you, I have, Qui-Gon. But remind  you
I must that neither the Melida or the Daan have asked for our  help.  Almost
sacrified one Jedi, I did. Willing sacrifice two more, I am not."

"We could bring Tahl back and then return," Qui-Gon pointed out.

Yoda paused. "Before the Jedi Council you must go,"  he  said  finally.
"Make this decision alone I cannot. Cared for, Tahl must be. Then decide  we
will, if help we must give. Until then, taking sides the Jedi must  not  do.
Jeopardize peace it would. Avoid you must, angering one side or another."

As usual, Yoda had a point. Already the Melida would be angry when they
heard that the Jedi had broken into their barracks. And if word got out that
Obi-Wan had gone on the raid into Daan territory, that would anger the Daan.

He bowed. "I hope to find Tahl ready  tomorrow.  I  will  return  soon,
Master."

"Look forward to that day, I will,"  Yoda  said  gently.  The  hologram
flickered and disappeared.

"Go back? We can't go back!" Obi-Wan exclaimed.  "We  can't  leave  the
Young now. They need us."

"We have received no official request to stabilize the planet," Qui-Gon
said patiently. "Perhaps back on Coruscant, the Jedi Council will -"

"We can't wait for the Council to review  this,"  Obi-Wan  interrupted,
shaking his head. "If we wait too long, the Melida and the Daan will  rearm.
The time to act is now."

"Obi-Wan, listen to me," Qui-Gon said sternly.

"Yoda has directed us to come back. Tahl needs care."

"She needs rest and med care," Obi-Wan argued. "We can get that for her
here. Cerasi can tell me where to go. We can bring a  medic  back  here,  or
find a place to keep her that would be safe -"

"No," Qui-Gon said, shaking his head. "She must be brought back to  the
Temple. We can do no more here, Padawan. We will leave tomorrow."

"Part of our mission was to try to stabilize the planet, if we  could,"
Obi-Wan insisted. "We haven't done that. But we can if we stay!"

"We have not been asked -"

" We have been asked, by the Young!" Obi-Wan exclaimed.

"That is not an official request," Qui-Gon replied testily. The boy was
beginning to try his patience.

"You have broken the rules before, Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan argued.  "Back  on
Gala, you left me to travel to the hill country when you were instructed  to
stay at the palace. You break the rules when it suits you to do so."

Qui-Gon took a deep breath, trying to control his temper. He would  not
match Obi-Wan's anger with his own. "I break the rules not because it  suits
me, but because sometimes dur-

ing a mission the rules get in the way," he said  carefully.  "That  is
not the case here. I believe Yoda is right."

"But-" Obi-Wan interrupted, but Qui-Gon held up a hand.

"Tomorrow we will leave, Padawan," he said firmly.

Suddenly, a roar rose from the Young, who  were  gathered  in  the  far
corner of the vault. Cerasi ran over to the Jedi, her face beaming.

"It is official!" she cried. "In the  absence  of  a  response  to  our
request for peace, we have issued a declaration of war  on  the  Elders.  If
they do not agree immediately to Melida/Daan  peace  negotiations,  we  will
attack them with their own weapons. They must respond to us now." She turned
shining eyes to Obi-Wan. "This is the last push we must  do  to  change  the
history of Melida/Daan. We need your help more than ever!"

Choked with anger and frustration, Obi-Wan could not answer Cerasi.

It was Qui-Gon who said gently,  "I'm  sorry,  Cerasi.  We  must  leave
tomorrow."

Obi-Wan didn't wait to see Cerasi's reaction. He could only turn  away,
sick at heart. He had let her down.

It was no use. He couldn't change  Qui-Gon's  mind.  Silently,  Obi-Wan
helped him minister to Tahl. They prepared and fed her broth and tea. Cerasi
had brought Qui-Gon a medpac, and he  was  able  to  treat  some  of  Tahl's
wounds. Already, she seemed stronger.  She  would  be  ready  to  travel  by
tomorrow, Obi-Wan knew. The Jedi powers of recuperation were remarkable.

As soon as Tahl was settled, Obi-Wan sat against the wall and tried  to
calm his raging heart.  Something  was  happening  to  him  that  he  didn't
understand. He felt as though there were

two parts of him: a Jedi, and a person called Obi-Wan.  Always  before,
he could not separate being a Jedi from being himself.

He had not been a Jedi with Nield and Cerasi. He had been one of  them.
He had not needed the Force to  feel  connected  to  something  larger  than
himself.

Now Qui-Gon was asking him to leave his friends  just  as  they  needed
him. He had pledged to help them, had battled alongside them, and now he had
to go, just because an elder told him so.

Loyalty had seemed such an easy concept back  at  the  Temple.  He  had
thought that he would be the best Padawan it was possible to  be.  He  would
meld his mind and body with his Master, and serve.

But he did not want to serve like this. Obi-Wan closed his eyes as  his
frustration again boiled up inside him. He pressed  his  hands  between  his
knees to calm their shaking. He felt frightened at  what  was  happening  to
him. He couldn't go to  Qui-Gon  for  counsel.  He  didn't  believe  in  his
Master's counsel any longer. Yet neither could he oppose it.

Across the room, Nield  was  just  as  agitated,  prowling  around  the
headquarters silently. Everyone was waiting for the Melida and Daan councils
to respond to the declaration of war. The

long evening shaded into night, and still no word came.

"They did not take us seriously," Nield said bitterly. "We must  strike
again, and strike hard enough to make them sit up and take notice."

Cerasi put her hand on his arm. "But not tonight. Everyone needs  rest.
Tomorrow we can plan."

Nield nodded. Cerasi lowered the glow rods until they were  only  faint
spots of illumination against the dark walls, like distant stars in a  black
sky.

Qui-Gon rolled himself up in his cloak and went to sleep by Tahl's side
in case she called for him in the night. Obi-Wan watched  as  the  boys  and
girls around him settled into exhausted sleep. Over in the  corner,  he  saw
Cerasi and Nield huddled together, talking quietly.

/ should be with them, Obi-Wan thought bitterly. He belonged with them,
talking about strategy and plans. Instead he had to sit silently, passively,
watching their dedication, their fire. Cerasi  hadn't  looked  at  him  once
during  the  long  evening.  Nield  hadn't  either.  They  were   no   doubt
disappointed and angry.

Hesitantly, Obi-Wan rose. Even if he left them tomorrow,  they  had  to
know that he had no choice. He walked softly among the sleeping children and
approached them.

"I wanted to say good-bye  now,"  he  said.  "We'll  be  leaving  early
tomorrow." He paused. "I'm sorry I can't stay to help you. I want to."

"We understand," Nield said in a clipped  tone.  "You  must  obey  your
elder."

"It's not obedience as much as respect," Obi-Wan explained.  His  words
sounded lame, even to him.

"Ah," Cerasi said, nodding. "My trouble is, I never  got  this  respect
thing. My father told me what was right, and he was always wrong. What  does
it matter, he'd say, if thousands die, or millions die?  The  sky  is  still
blue overhead, and our world still remains. The cause is  what's  important.
And so your Jedi boss tells you what you must do, and you do it. Even though
you know he's wrong. And that is  called  respect."  She  looked  at  Nield.
"Maybe I've been living in the dark too long. But I just can't see that."

Obi-Wan stood awkwardly in front of them. He felt  confused.  The  Jedi
way had always shimmered clear as a fountain  of  pure  water  to  him.  But
Cerasi had muddied the water, clouded it with doubt.

"I would help if I could," he said finally. "If there was  something  I
knew I could do that would make a difference -"

Nield and Cerasi looked at each other, then back at him.

"What is it?" Obi-Wan asked.

"We do have a plan," Cerasi said.

Obi-Wan crouched down next to them. "Tell me."

Nield  and  Cerasi  leaned  closer,  their  foreheads  almost  touching
Obi-Wan's.

"You know that there are deflection towers ringing the perimeter of the
city," Cerasi whispered. "There are also towers around  the  Melida  center.
These towers control the particle shields, preventing entry, and  separating
Melida from Daan."

"Yes, I've seen them," Obi-Wan said, nodding.

Nield leaned forward. "We've been in contact with the Young outside the
city," he said. "I've sent a message to  them  telling  them  that  we  have
succeeded in capturing the weapons  of  both  Melida  and  Daan.  There  are
several destroyed villages ringing the  city.  Many  of  the  children  live
there, or in the countryside. Hundreds. Thousands, if we  take  in  a  wider
area. They are all connected by a network. If we can  destroy  the  particle
shields, they will march on Zehava."

"And they have weapons, too," Cerasi added quietly. "We would  have  an
army. Not only would the Elders be outnumbered, they would have  nothing  to
fight with. We could win a war

without one death - if we are careful, and the Elders are smart  enough
to surrender."

"It sounds like a good plan," Obi-Wan said. "But how are you  going  to
knock out the deflection towers?"

"That's our problem," Nield said. "They can only be destroyed from  the
air. All we need is an air transport."

"We can't use floaters," Cerasi explained. "The deflection towers  have
defense systems. Floaters wouldn't be fast enough or agile enough. We need a
starfighter."

Cerasi and Nield held Obi-Wan's gaze.

"We know you flew some sort of fast transport  into  Melida/Daan.  Will
you fly us on the mission?" Cerasi asked.

Obi-Wan's breath left him. Cerasi and Nield were asking a  great  deal.
This would go beyond a Padawan's disobedience. It would defy Yoda himself.

Qui-Gon would be within his rights to send him back to the  Temple.  He
would probably have to appear before the Jedi  Council.  And  Qui-Gon  would
have the right to dismiss him as his Padawan.

"We can leave at dawn," Nield said. "The mission should  only  take  an
hour, maybe a little more. Then you can take Tahl back to Corus-cant."

"The destruction of the particle shield will actually  make  it  easier
for you to smuggle Tahl out of Zehava," Cerasi pointed out.

"But if the starfighter is damaged, it could mean she  can't  leave  at
all," Obi-Wan said. "It would doom our mission to failure, and perhaps  make
me responsible for Tahl's death."

Cerasi bit her lip. "It was wrong of me to mock you before,"  she  said
awkwardly, as if she were unused to apologies. "I know the Jedi code  guides
the way you live. And we know we are asking too much from you. If we weren't
desperate, we wouldn't do it. You've done so much already for us."

"As you have done for us," Obi-Wan said. "We  could  not  have  rescued
Tahl without you."

"It is our only chance for peace," Nield said. "Once the Elders see our
numbers, they will have no choice but surrender."

Obi-Wan glanced over at Qui-Gon's sleeping form. He owed his Master  so
much. Qui-Gon had fought alongside him, even saved  his  life.  They  had  a
bond.

Yet he had a bond with Nield and Cerasi, too. The shortness of the time
he'd known them made no difference. The current that ran  between  them  was
like nothing he'd ever experienced. And even though  Cerasi  apologized  for
mocking him, hadn't there been a germ of truth

in her words? Was it right to obey when  his  heart  told  him  it  was
wrong?

Cerasi's usual fierce green gaze had softened with  compassion  as  she
watched the struggle on his face. Nield met his gaze steadily,  warmly.  He,
too, knew what they were asking Obi-Wan was a great sacrifice.

He would have to betray Qui-Gon, betray his life as a Jedi.  For  them.
For their cause. They could ask this because they knew they were right.

Obi-Wan knew they were right, too. And he couldn't let  them  down.  He
could not make this decision as a Jedi. He would make it as a friend.

He took a deep breath. "I'll do it."

They sneaked out before dawn. Cerasi  led  them  to  the  Outer  Circle
through the tunnels. Then they left Zehava the same way Obi-Wan and  Qui-Gon
had arrived -through the Hall of Evidence, back  to  the  trap.  This  time,
Nield had brought finely spun  carbon  rope,  which  he  tossed  up  to  the
surface. A strong magnet adhered to the metal slide, and they were  able  to
scale it easily.

The hike to the transport went quickly in  the  cool  gray  light.  The
three of them had stuffed proton grenades in their packs. They  were  heavy,
but they hardly felt the weight. They were anxious to get to  the  transport
and start their mission.

When they reached the starfighter,  Nield  and  Cerasi  helped  Obi-Wan
uncover it from the branches and brush he and Qui-Gon had dragged  over  it.
Nield beamed when he saw the sleek,

small starfighter. Then he noticed the  gash  in  the  side  panel.  He
turned to Obi-Wan.

"I guess I should have asked you something. Are you a good pilot?"

Obi-Wan looked at him blankly for  a  moment.  Then  Cerasi  burst  out
laughing. Nield and Obi-Wan joined her, the sound bouncing  off  the  canyon
walls.

"I guess we'll find out," Cerasi said cheerfully.

They climbed into the starfighter. Obi-Wan slid into the pilot's  seat.
For a moment, he hesitated, staring at the controls. The last time he'd  sat
here, he'd landed the craft with Qui-Gon in the copilot's seat. Qui-Gon  had
kidded him about denting the side of the starfighter. Obi-Wan felt a pang of
remorse. Was he doing the  right  thing?  Was  this  cause  worth  betraying
Qui-Gon?

Cerasi touched his wrist  gently.  "We  know  this  is  hard  for  you,
Obi-Wan. That's what makes your sacrifice even more valuable to us."

"And we give you our deepest thanks," Nield said quietly.

Obi-Wan turned and met their eyes. He felt a shock, as though  he  were
looking at himself. In the steady gazes of his friends he saw what was  held
in his own heart - the same dedication,

the same fierceness, the same daring. He felt his confidence surge.  He
was doing the right thing. Maybe Qui-Gon would come to understand that.

He started the ion engines. "Let's get going."

"We should hit the perimeter towers first,  then  the  center  towers,"
Cerasi said. "We're going to have to do everything by sight.  I  don't  have
any coordinates for the nav computer."

"It won't be a problem," Obi-Wan said. He kept the engines at low power
as the ship rose in order to clear the overhanging cliff. Then he pushed the
engines to full power to soar above the canyon. No  one  told  him  to  slow
down.

"I'm going to have to do some defensive flying, so it's better  if  you
two do the aiming," Obi-Wan said. "The station for the laser cannon is right
in front of you, Cerasi."

Nield went to his own laser cannon station.

"I'll open up the emergency weapon sighting plate as  we  get  closer,"
Obi-Wan said. "Remember to keep your eyes out for speeders. We're  going  to
have to come in low to blast the deflection controls."

The two deflection towers flanking the main gate  came  into  sight  in
seconds. "Here we go," Obi-Wan said, gritting his teeth.

"Floater on the right approaching," Cerasi

rapped out. "We must have turned up on scanners."

Obi-Wan cut sharply to the left, then veered right again. Surprised  to
see a starfighter heading  straight  for  it,  the  floater  turned  sharply
downward, firing at the same time. Obi-Wan made  a  minute  adjustment  that
caused the ship to turn and the missile to harmlessly fall to his  left.  It
crashed outside the city walls, causing an explosion.

"They won't do that very often," Cerasi  noted.  "They  could  level  a
building once we get over the city."

"They'll probably use smaller firepower," Nield agreed.

"We have to do this without blasting them out of the sky," Cerasi  said
worriedly. "We have to show them that our ultimate goal is peace."

"That's my job," Obi-Wan said. "The tower is in range. Let's blast it."

Another floater approached from the  left,  and  he  could  see  others
taking to the air like a flock of insects, probably from the  Daan  military
headquarters in the distance. Obi-Wan calculated the  slower  speed  of  the
floaters. He had to stay level long enough for Cerasi and Nield to  aim.  He
should have just enough time .. .

He opened the firing panel for Nield. Bracing

himself against the hull of the  starfighter,  Nield  aimed  his  laser
cannon. Cerasi waited, her fingers on her own control stick.

"Now!" Obi-Wan shouted, zooming closer to the deflection tower.

Cerasi and Nield fired the cannons. As soon  as  the  projectiles  were
away, Obi-Wan pushed the engines to full power and climbed above the floater
heading for his left flank. Blaster fire followed him. He took a  small  hit
on his wing, but not enough to damage the craft.

Both Cerasi and Nield scored a direct hit on the  tower.  Obi-Wan  felt
the vibration of the  blast  ripple  against  the  starfighter's  hull.  The
floater rocked as it rode the wind  vibrations,  the  driver  struggling  to
retain control. The particle shield was briefly visible, then fractured in a
shower of blue-tinged energy atoms.

Obi-Wan, Cerasi, and Nield cheered, even as Obi-Wan circled  around  to
hit the next tower. Now the military floaters were almost on him.

"Seven floaters," Cerasi said, counting. Her  face  creased  in  worry.
"Can we do this, Obi-Wan?"

"If we do it fast. Can you aim upside down?"  Obi-Wan  asked,  hovering
out of the floater's range.

Cerasi grinned. "No problem."

Nield positioned his laser cannon. "Do it."

Obi-Wan pushed the engines. The starfighter rocketed down  through  the
sky at full speed. He knew that technically he was going too fast  for  this
altitude, but he also knew he could handle the craft. And there was  no  one
in the copilot's seat to remind him of star aviation rules, or warn  him  of
the dangers. Exhilaration raced through him. For the first time in his life,
he had no one to answer to. There were no  Jedi  rules  or  superior  wisdom
aboard this ship.

He zigzagged on the descent, pushing the ship as much as he dared.  The
floaters hung back and fired, afraid of colliding with the star-ship.  Using
the Force as a guide, Obi-Wan was able to avoid the worst fire.

As he got closer, the speeders  grew  more  daring.  One  came  at  him
dead-on, firing as it went.

"Ready-" Obi-Wan shouted.

At the last moment, he flipped the starfighter over and dived under the
floater, maneuvering the craft so that it had a clear shot at the tower.

Nield and Cerasi fired. The deflection tower blew, scattering metal and
parts. Obi-Wan flipped the starfighter right-side  up  and  climbed  at  top
speed. The floaters frantically dived to avoid getting hit.

"Everyone okay?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Dizzy, but okay," Cerasi said, wiping sweat off  her  forehead.  "That
was incredible flying."

"Okay, follow the wall," Nield directed. "We'll hit the towers  one  by
one around the perimeter."

The military floaters pursued them, but they could not fly as  high  or
go as fast as a star-fighter. More floaters joined the chase as  they  flew.
To hit each deflection tower, Obi-Wan had  to  practice  the  same  too-fast
maneuvering to avoid being blasted by the speeders or colliding  with  them.
Their advantage was the  speed  and  agility  of  the  starfighter  and  the
incredible accuracy of Cerasi and Nield.

One by one, they destroyed each  tower,  the  speeders  hard  on  their
flank. The speeders tried to capture Obi-Wan in a pincer  movement,  but  he
was too quick for them.

When they saw the last tower go up,  the  three  let  out  a  whoop  of
exultation. Cerasi leaned over and hugged Obi-Wan. Nield pounded him on  the
back.

"I knew we could count on you, friend," he said  joyfully.  He  checked
his laser cannon. "We have plenty of firepower left. What do you say we blow
the Halls of Evidence into nanospecs?"

Cerasi frowned. "Now? But Nield, we need to get back. We  have  to  hit
both Melida and Daan for peace negotiations while they're weak."

"And besides, there could be people inside," Obi-Wan pointed out.

Cerasi looked at Nield. "We said we would  do  this  without  taking  a
life."

Nield bit his lip as he glanced out the spaceport down to  the  surface
of Zehava. "The sooner those halls of hate are blown up, the sooner everyone
on this planet can breathe again," he murmured. "I despise  everything  they
stand for."

"I know," Cerasi said. "So do I. But let's take one step at a time."

"All right," Nield agreed reluctantly. "But let's do  one  last  thing.
Before we land, let's do a  quick  loop  over  the  countryside.  Deila  was
waiting to pass the message that the perimeter shields had been  blown.  The
Scavenger Young should be mobilizing."

Obi-Wan flew in widening circles over the countryside. Everywhere  they
saw young people, boys and girls, streaming out from farms and villages  and
woods. They were already beginning to clog the road into Zehava.  Some  rode
on battered landspeeders  or  souped-up  turbo-tractors.  Those  who  walked
formed columns, marching in military style. When they  saw  the  starfighter
overhead, they waved and shouted greetings the three could not hear. Obi-Wan
dipped his wings in a return salute.

Tears stood in Cerasi's eyes. "I will never forget this day," she said.
"And I will never forget what you did for us, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Obi-Wan turned the starfighter back toward the landing area. He  didn't
care how angry Qui-Gon was, or if he got  sent  back  to  the  Temple.  This
moment was worth it.

Qui-Gon had woken early and checked on Tahl. She was  sleeping  deeply.
That was good. Sleep  was  the  best  healer  until  he  could  get  her  to
Coruscant.

He saw that Obi-Wan had disappeared, along with Nield  and  Cerasi.  No
doubt he wanted a last outing with his friends before he left. Qui-Gon would
let it pass. He knew it was hard for the boy to leave them.

And he had a plan of his own.

He had asked a quiet girl named Roenni to watch over  Tahl.  Then  he'd
traveled through the tunnels to the route he  had  mapped  out  last  night,
slipping away while the rest of the Young were celebrating their victory.

When he emerged above ground  in  the  abandoned  neighborhood  at  the
border of Melida and Daan territory, it was still dark. A few stars

still twinkled in a navy sky that shaded to gray at the horizon.

Qui-Gon had waited in the alley until he was sure all the  people  he'd
invited had arrived. Then he walked to the partially bombed out building  on
the corner.

Last night he'd sent a note to Wehutti by one of the Young  messengers.
He had asked for a meeting between the Melida Council and the Daan  Council.
He had suggested that it was in their best interest to attend. He  had  news
of the Young that they must know.

Until now, he hadn't been sure if anyone would show up. He still wasn't
sure if one side or the other would try to capture him. It was  a  desperate
gamble. He was prepared for anything. But he had to  make  a  last  try  for
peace before he left Melida/Daan. He had seen the  heartbreak  on  Obi-Wan's
face. He would do it for his Padawan.

Near a broken window, he paused to listen for a moment.

"And where is the Jedi?" a voice asked  coldly.  "If  this  is  another
dirty Melida trick, I swear by the honored memory of  our  martyrs  that  we
will retaliate."

"A dirty Daan trick, more likely." Qui-Gon recognized Wehutti's  voice.
"For it's a coward's trick, worthy of your worthless ancestors, to

lure your enemy to a meeting under false pretenses. Our troops  can  be
here in seconds."

"And what will they do? Throw pebbles?" The  other  voice  was  amused.
"Didn't the Melida blow up their own weapons stores, fearing  the  attacking
Daan?"

"And didn't the Daan allow their own stores to be  stolen  right  under
their noses?" Wehutti snapped.

Qui-Gon knew  it  was  time  for  him  to  enter.  He  climbed  over  a
half-demolished wall. The Melida council members stood on one  side  of  the
room, heavily armed and dressed in plastoid armor. The  Daan  stood  on  the
opposite side, almost identically dressed and armed.  Each  member  of  each
group bore scars and signs of healed wounds. Several were missing limbs,  or
breathed through breath masks. It was hard to tell the  two  ravaged  groups
apart.

"No tricks, no stratagems," Qui-Gon said, striding to the middle of the
room. "And if Melida and Daan will cooperate, I won't take up too much time,
either."

The Daan council members looked as skeptical  as  the  Melida,  Qui-Gon
thought as he surveyed the room. At least the two groups  had  something  in
common: distrust.

"What  news  of  the  Young  have  you  brought  us?"   Wehutti   asked
impatiently.

"And why should  we  care  what  children  do?"  an  elder  Daan  asked
contemptuously.

"Because yesterday they made you look  like  fools,"  Qui-Gon  answered
mildly. He waited out the indrawn breaths and looks of avid hatred  directed
his way. "And, on a more practical note,  they  have  stolen  most  of  your
weapons," he added. "They have asked for disarmament, and you  have  ignored
them. Obviously, they are quite capable of getting what they want."

"All we have to do is walk in and take  back  our  weapons,"  the  Daan
leader said, rasping through a breath mask. "Candy from a baby."

"I warn you," Qui-Gon said, turning to catch the eye of everyone in the
room. "Do not underestimate the Young. They have learned how to  fight  from
you. They have learned determination from  you.  And  they  have  their  own
ideas."

"Is this what you brought us here to hear?" the  Daan  leader  growled.
"If so, I have heard enough."

"For once, I agree with Gueni," Wehutti said, referring to the Daan  in
the breath mask. "This is a waste of time."

"I must urge you to reconsider," Qui-Gon said. "If you form a coalition
government, you might be able  to  take  control  of  Zehava,  and  thus  of
Melida/Daan. If not, the Young will win

this war. They will end up ruling their elders. And though  their  aims
are pure, I fear for the cost that will bring."

Wehutti started from the room, followed by the  Melida  leaders.  "Join
with the Daan? You're dreaming!"

Quickly, Gueni followed suit, as though he did not want the  Melida  to
be the first to leave. The other Daan followed on his heels. "Unthinkable!"

Suddenly, the sound of an explosion caused  the  remaining  windows  to
vibrate. The Daan and Melida looked at each other.

"This is a trick!" Wehutti roared. "The foul Daan are attacking us!"

"The detestable Melida are attacking!" Gueni cried at  the  same  time.
"Fiends!"

Qui-Gon strode to the window. He looked out, but could see nothing.  As
he scanned the area, another explosion ripped through the  silence.  It  had
come from the Daan sector, he calculated. But what could it have been?

In the next second, Gueni's comlink  began  to  beep.  The  Elder  Daan
hurried to a corner to take the message in private.  While  Gueni  listened,
his back to the room, Qui-Gon began to worry. Obi-Wan had  disappeared  that
morning. He hoped his Padawan wasn't involved  in  whatever  was  going  on.
Using the Force, he tried to

establish a connection with Obi-Wan. But  he  could  feel  nothing.  No
distress, no confusion, no assurance. Only ... a void.

When Gueni turned back to the group, he looked  shaken.  "Reports  have
come in that two deflection towers have been blown in the Daan sector."

One of the Daan warriors went for his weapon. "I knew  it!  The  filthy
Melida-"

"No!" Gueni cried hoarsely. "It was the Young."

Slowly, the Daan's hand fell to his side. The Melida who had  begun  to
reach for his weapon stopped as well. A babble of conversation rose.

"Those children could not do it on their own! The deplorable Melida are
behind this!" one of the Daan council members shouted.

"The lying Daan are always quick to accuse  without  facts!"  a  Melida
roared back.

Qui-Gon leaned against the sill and waited out the argument. Sometimes,
it was better to sit back and wait for events to unfold.

Comlinks began to beep. Melida and Daan alike spoke  into  them,  their
faces registering shock. Reports flooded in from both sides. One by one, the
deflection towers went down. First on the perimeter, then in the center. The
explosions got closer as the last towers were blown.

"The Young are pouring in from the country-

side," Gueni reported, a look of amazement on his face.  "The  city  is
now open. Defenseless. And they are armed."

Melida and Daan faced each other. Now they knew the threat  that  faced
them was serious.

"Do you see now that you must join.together?"  Qui-Gon  asked  quietly.
"The Young only want peace. You can give it  to  them.  Don't  you  want  to
rebuild your city?"

"They  say  they  want  peace,  but  they  wage  war,"   Wehutti   said
contemptuously. "Well, we can give them a war to make our  ancestors  proud.
We may have lost some weapons, but we are not defenseless."

"And  we  have  weapons  remaining  as  well,"  a  Daan  said  quickly.
"Shipments are arriving this very afternoon  from  our  stores  outside  the
city."

"They will collapse at any sign of resistance," a Melida  woman  chimed
in. "We can fight them."

"But not together," Wehutti said. "The glorious Melida can defeat  them
without Daan help."

"For once, do not overestimate yourselves!" Qui-Gon spoke sharply. "You
don't have weapons. You don't have air support. You have  an  army  made  of
Elders and the wounded. Think of what you're saying. There are thousands  of
them!"

Both sides of the room grew  silent.  Wehutti  and  Gueni  exchanged  a
glance. Qui-Gon

glimpsed surrender underneath the sizzling distrust.

"Perhaps the Jedi is right," Gueni said reluctantly. "I  see  only  one
way to defeat them. We must join our armies and weapons. But the  Jedi  must
lead us."

Wehutti nodded slowly. "It's the only way we can be sure that the  Daan
will not turn on us once the battle is won."

"It is our only assurance also," Gueni said. "We cannot trust the  word
of the Melida."

Qui-Gon shook his head. "I did not come here to lead you into battle. I
came here to urge you to find a way toward peace."

"But there is no peace!" Wehutti  cried.  "The  Young  have  drawn  the
battle lines!"

"These are your children!" Qui-Gon cried out. He had lost his  patience
in the face of the cruel obstinacy of both sides. He  controlled  his  voice
and went on. "I, for one, will not kill children. Why are you so willing  to
do so?" He turned to Wehutti. "What about Cerasi? Are you willing  to  march
into battle against your own daughter?"

Wehutti paled. His clenched fist uncurled.

"My grandson Rica is underground," Gueni said.

"I have not seen my Deila in two years," a woman Melida said quietly.

Other Daan and Melida looked uncertain. There was a long pause.

"All right," Wehutti said at last. "If you will  be  our  emissary,  we
will open talks with the Young."

Gueni nodded. "The Daan agree. You are right, Qui-Gon. We  cannot  wage
war against our children."

"We will not meet with them," Nield told  Qui-Gon  furiously.  "I  know
what their promises are worth. They agree to meet as a diversion. They  will
tell us we must disarm.  And  then  the  fighting  will  begin  again.  This
surrender is too soon. If we relent, they'll think we're weak."

"They know you  have  backed  them  into  a  corner,"  Qui-Gon  argued.
"They're willing to talk. You succeeded, Nield. Now take your victory."

Cerasi crossed her arms. "We did not succeed by being fools, Qui-Gon."

Qui-Gon turned away with a sigh. He had been arguing  with  Cerasi  and
Nield since he'd returned. It had done no good. It was  out  of  his  hands,
anyway.

Obi-Wan sat at the makeshift table,  watching.  He  hadn't  offered  an
opinion, or tried to sway Cerasi or  Nield.  Qui-Gon  had  noted  this  with
surprise. Obi-Wan had wanted peace on this

planet. Why did he stand back now? Once again, when  Qui-Gon  tried  to
connect with his Padawan, he found a void.

Headquarters was now crowded with the boys and girls  who  had  arrived
from the country.  More  congregated  aboveground,  gathered  in  parks  and
squares. The Young had  mobilized,  bringing  whatever  food  they  had  and
instituting a supply line. It would take all day to get  everyone  fed,  but
they were determined to succeed.

"How did you blow the  deflection  towers?"  Qui-Gon  asked  Nield  and
Cerasi curiously. It was a question that had been bothering him  since  he'd
heard the news. "You'd have to hit them from the air. But floaters  couldn't
do that job. You'd need ..."

Qui-Gon paused. He turned to face Obi-Wan. Slowly, Obi-Wan  pushed  his
chair back. Qui-Gon heard it scrape against the stone floor. Then he  stood.
He did not fidget or look away. He met Qui-Gon's gaze.

"So it was you," Qui-Gon said. "You took the starfighter. You  took  it
knowing it was our only way off the planet. You took it knowing it  was  the
only hope for Tahl."

Obi-Wan nodded.

Cerasi and Nield glanced from one Jedi to the other.  Cerasi  began  to
speak, but thought better

of it. The tension between Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan was private.

"Please come with me, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said curtly.

He led the way to an adjacent tunnel where they could  talk  privately.
He waited a few moments to compose himself. Bitterness had  no  place  here.
Yet he felt it surge within him. Obi-Wan had broken his trust.

He did not know what to say. His emotions swamped him. Qui-Gon recalled
his Temple training with an effort. He would admonish his Padawan  according
to Jedi rules. First, he would describe the offense. It was the duty of  the
Master to do so without judgment.

Grateful for a guide, Qui-Gon took a deep breath. "You were  instructed
not to take sides."

"Yes," Obi-Wan responded calmly. It was the duty of a Padawan to  agree
to his fault without argument.

"You were instructed to be available to leave at any time," he said.

"Yes," Obi-Wan replied.

"You were instructed that Tahl's health was your first concern. Yet you
endangered that health by taking our only form of transport on  a  dangerous
mission."

"Yes," Obi-Wan agreed.

Qui-Gon swallowed painfully. "By doing all this, you not only put  Tahl
at risk, but the peace process on Melida/Daan as well."

Obi-Wan hesitated for the first time. "I aided the peace process -"

"That is your interpretation," Qui-Gon interrupted. "It  was  not  your
instruction. Your  Master  and  Jedi  Master  Yoda  had  decided  that  Jedi
intervention at this stage could only prejudice either the Melida  or  Daan,
thereby sabotaging the peace process. You were  told  this.  Is  that  true,
Obi-Wan?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan admitted. "It is true."

Qui-Gon paused. He gathered himself to deliver the Jedi wisdom  of  the
Master and Padawan relationship. How the rules had evolved over thousands of
years. How the Padawan's pledge of obedience had nothing to do  with  power,
but everything to do with the gaining of wisdom and the humility of service.
How he was not here to punish Obi-Wan, or even to  teach  him,  but  to  aid
Obi-Wan's own journey and enlightenment until the day he grew  to  become  a
Jedi Knight.

"I don't care," Obi-Wan said, breaking into his thoughts.

"You don't care  about  what?"  Qui-Gon  asked,  startled.  Usually,  a
Padawan was silent after his

admission, waiting for the Master to decide on their next step.

"I don't care that I broke the rules," Obi-Wan said. "It was  right  to
break them."

Qui-Gon took a breath. "And was it right to break my trust?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "I'm sorry I had to. But yes."

Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan's words enter him like a blade. He saw in a  flash
that since he had taken Obi-Wan as his apprentice, he had been  waiting  for
this moment. Waiting for the betrayal.  The  strike.  He  had  hardened  his
heart, preparing himself for it.

And yet he was not prepared at all.

"Qui-Gon, you must  understand,"  Obi-Wan  said  quietly.  "I've  found
something here. All my life, I have been told what is right, what  is  best.
The path has been pointed out to me. That was a great gift, and I'm grateful
for all I've learned. But here on this world  all  those  abstractions  I've
learned suddenly fit into something concrete. Something I can see. Something
real." Obi-Wan gestured back toward the headquarters of  the  Young.  "These
people feel like my people. This cause feels like my cause. It calls  to  me
like nothing I've ever felt before."

Qui-Gon's astonishment turned to grief and anger  at  himself.  Obi-Wan
had been swept

away. He should have stepped in earlier. He should have remembered that
Obi-Wan was just a boy.

He chose his words with care. "The  situation  here  is  heartbreaking,
yes. It is a hard one to walk away from. That's why I tried  to  resolve  it
before we left. But walk away we must, Padawan."

Obi-Wan's face turned stony.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said gently. "Everything you think  you  found  here
you already have. You are a Jedi. What you need is  distance  and  a  little
time for reflection."

"I don't need to reflect," Obi-Wan said stiffly.

"That is your choice," Qui-Gon said. "But still, you must accompany  me
back to the Temple. I need to gather some things for Tahl in the city.  When
I return, I expect to find you packed and ready to go."

He started back to the main tunnel. Obi-Wan did not move.

"Come, Padawan," he said.

Reluctantly, Obi-Wan trailed behind him. Qui-Gon felt worry  fill  him.
There was something closed in Obi-Wan, something  unmoveable,  that  he  had
never sensed in his apprentice before. It would be good  to  return  to  the
Temple, where the wisdom of  Yoda  and  the  calm  surroundings  could  help
Obi-Wan find his center again.

Qui-Gon heard a roar from the main tunnel,  voices  shouting,  pounding
feet on stone. He quickened his pace and burst into the  space,  Obi-Wan  at
his heels.

Nield spun around to face them. "The offer for negotiation was a trick.
The Elders have attacked!"

Chaos reigned in the tunnels. The passageways were choked with  bodies,
children desperately trying to escape the battle  raging  above.  Some  were
wounded. Others hurriedly tried to arm  themselves  for  the  counterattack.
Hundreds of the Young were trapped above in open  parks  and  squares.  They
needed reinforcements.

"We need medics and a supply line for weapons," Cerasi said.

"We need to strike back hard!" Nield cried.

Obi-Wan rushed to huddle with Cerasi and Nield. Qui-Gon saw anguish  on
all three faces. It was right that his Padawan help while he could.

But they had to get Tahl off-planet immediately. Now it was imperative.

Qui-Gon hurried to her side. She was sitting up, listening intently  to
what was going on around her.

[Image003]

He crouched by her side. "I had hoped to go back to the  city  to  find
more med supplies and borrow a floater, but  I'm  afraid  that's  impossible
now. War has broken out, and we must leave immediately."

She nodded. "It's all right. I can walk,  Qui-Gon.  Your  medicine  has
already helped me. I can make it, if you guide me."

Qui-Gon bent to gather up their things. They had  lost  their  survival
packs, but he had gathered supplies over the past few days. He stashed  them
in a pack Cerasi had given him.

When he turned to search for Obi-Wan, the boy was gone.

Cerasi and Nield were gone  as  well.  Qui-Gon  dropped  the  pack  and
searched the adjoining tunnels. He went as far  as  he  could,  but  he  was
wasting time. Obi-Wan had probably gone  to  the  surface  with  Cerasi  and
Nield.

Perhaps he thought that Qui-Gon still needed to gather  more  supplies,
as he had told Obi-Wan. In that case, Obi-Wan might be planning to meet  him
at the starfighter. The boy had disobeyed him again, but Qui-Gon  felt  sure
Obi-Wan would appear at the starfighter.

In any case, he couldn't waste any more time.  He  gathered  his  pack,
helped Tahl to rise, and started through the tunnels to the edge of Zehava.

The smell of smoke and the sound of cries were in the air  as  Obi-Wan,
Cerasi, and Nield climbed above ground. They  crouched  behind  a  wall  for
shelter. Starfighters circled overhead, strafing the park  where  the  Young
had gathered. Children ran for cover, or tried to shoot down the ships  with
shoulder-mounted torpedo launchers. The Starfighters were able to  stay  out
of range.

"They're wasting ammunition!" Nield cried.

"They must have flown in the Starfighters from  another  base,"  Cerasi
said. "Or maybe they'd hidden them somewhere we didn't know about. We  can't
fight them from the ground!"

Obi-Wan gripped the wall. A starfighter  came  in  low.  He  saw  rapid
flashes from the forward gun pod. Blaster fire  ripped  into  the  grass.  A
young girl sprang for cover. Another boy wasn't so lucky. The fire  hit  him
in the leg, and he fell. Before Obi-Wan  could  move,  the  boy's  companion
dragged him to safety. Anguish ripped through  Obi-Wan.  The  children  were
helpless!

Cerasi squeezed her eyes shut, as though she couldn't bear to  see  any
more. "We have to stop this," she said numbly.

"There's only three Starfighters," Obi-Wan said tensely,  scanning  the
sky above.

"That's enough," Nield said grimly. "We've

got to get organized. They're going to drive half of us out of the city
if we don't do something!"

Nield turned to Obi-Wan. "We need your star-ship again, my  friend.  We
have to fight them in the air. With your skills, we  can  shoot  them  down,
just like we hit those deflection towers."

Stricken, Obi-Wan gazed at his friends. "You said you would not ask  me
to go against Qui-Gon's orders again."

"But everything's changed, Obi-Wan," Cerasi pleaded. "Look around  you.
Children are dying. We'll lose everything if we can't fight  them  from  the
air." Tears ran down Cerasi's cheeks. "Please."

Obi-Wan's ears rang with the cries  of  the  terrified  children.  Even
though he was safe behind the wall, he  felt  as  though  blaster  fire  had
ripped through his body. He had been torn in  two.  Everything  he'd  known,
everything he'd thought was important had been shattered. His Jedi  training
lay in pieces at his feet. It meant nothing compared to what  was  going  on
around him now.

He flinched as a proton torpedo exploded. Dirt sprayed  into  the  air,
raining down on their heads.

"Obi-Wan!" Nield shouted. "You must choose!"

Tears snaked down through the grime on

Cerasi's face. She  didn't  speak.  Her  shoulders  shook  as  a  child
screamed in pain.

Obi-Wan realized he had already chosen. He couldn't turn  his  back  on
this suffering. He couldn't turn his back on his friends. Even  if  it  cost
him everything. He would give that, and more.

"I'll be back," Obi-Wan promised, and took off.

Obi-Wan ran without stopping. He had to get to the ship before Qui-Gon.
He did not want a confrontation. If Qui-Gon tried to stop him, what would he
do? He pushed aside the thought. He would just have to get there first. Tahl
would slow Qui-Gon down.

But he had underestimated the  determination  and  speed  of  two  Jedi
Knights. As he ran down the canyon path, Obi-Wan saw Qui-Gon lifting off the
last of the camouflaging branches. Tahl must already be aboard.

His steps slowed as Qui-Gon caught sight of him. Obi-Wan saw the relief
on his Master's face. Qui-Gon thought he was coming to return  with  him  to
the Temple. The Jedi Knight stood by the entrance ramp, waiting.

Obi-Wan didn't give Qui-Gon a chance to speak. He  could  not  bear  to
hear words of welcome.

"I'm not here to go with you," he said. "I came for the starfighter."

Qui-Gon's look of quiet welcome faded. His features froze into a mask.

"Tahl is aboard," Qui-Gon said. "I am taking her to Coruscant."

"I'll bring the ship back," Obi-Wan tried. "I need it now. If you could
wait here -"

"No," Qui-Gon said angrily. "No, Padawan. I will not make your betrayal
easy for you. If you try to take this step, know what a hard one it is."

Neither had moved a muscle. Yet Obi-Wan knew that Qui-Gon was  just  as
prepared as he was to fight. The Force swirled around  him,  but  it  was  a
disturbed Force, neither dark nor light. He tried to tap into it  and  could
not. It was like trying to squeeze a handful of fine sand as it streamed out
through the cracks in his fingers.

He had no choice. The world around him was dying. He had to save it. He
had to fight Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan went for his lightsaber. Qui-Gon moved only a  fraction  of  an
instant later. Because of his quickness, his  lightsaber  activated  at  the
same time as Obi-Wan's.

Qui-Gon's green beam shot up, glowing in the gray light.  Obi-Wan  felt
his own lightsaber pulse in his hand. Qui-Gon kept his eyes on Obi-Wan.

Here was the moment. He had only to  step  forward  and  challenge  his
Master. He had only to move one muscle for it to be taken  as  an  offensive
move. Then the battle would begin.

Obi-Wan met Qui-Gon's gaze and saw the same anguish he  felt.  He  felt
something within him crack, and his resolve slowly drained  away.  He  could
not do this.

Simultaneously,  they  both  lowered  their  weapons.  The  lightsabers
deactivated with a faint buzzing sound.

For a moment, all Obi-Wan heard was the lonesome wind, howling  through
the canyon.

"You must choose, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon told him quietly. "You can go  with
me now, or stay. Know that if you stay, you are no longer a Jedi."

No longer a Jedi. Was he prepared to take that step? Is  this  what  he
had come to?

The moment spun out, became timeless to Obi-Wan.  Time  meant  nothing.
The confrontation with the man he had pledged to study  under,  learn  from,
defend and support suddenly felt unreal. How did he get here?  What  was  he
doing?

But through his confusion he saw Cerasi's fierce  glowing  eyes,  heard
Nield's fervent words. He still smelled  the  smoke  of  battle,  heard  the
desperate cries. He saw barricaded

streets and Elders too blind with  hatred  to  notice  that  they  were
killing their planet, piece by bloody piece. He saw them killing  their  own
children.

He could tell Qui-Gon about the battle he had seen. He could  try.  But
he had tried before. Qui-Gon was right. He must make his choice.

Obi-Wan grasped the rock of his conviction and felt his confusion  drop
away. Here on Melida/ Daan he had met  a  reality  that  was  stronger  than
anything he'd known.

"I have found something  here  more  important  than  the  Jedi  code,"
Obi-Wan said slowly. "Something not only worth fighting for, but worth dying
for."

Obi-Wan handed his lightsaber to Qui-Gon. "You may  go,  Qui-Gon  Jinn.
But I will stay."

It was as though the words hit Qui-Gon in the face, for he flinched. He
stared down at Obi-Wan's lightsaber in  his  hand,  not  speaking.  A  great
struggle seem to go on within the Jedi Knight's powerful body.

Obi-Wan had hurt him. He longed to take the words back. He  could  not.
They had been said. He had meant them.

Qui-Gon did not look at him. He did not  say  a  word.  He  turned  and
strode up the ramp, into the starfighter.

Obi-Wan stood back as the engines  powered  up.  The  starfighter  rose
cleanly from the canyon and shot off into the upper atmosphere.

He stood watching until it was out of sight. Then  Obi-Wan  turned  his
back. He hurried down the path, back to Zehava and his new life.

Cerasi and Nield were waiting.