The Defenders of the Dead Read online

  Jedi Apprentice

  #5

  The Defenders

  of the Dead

  by

  Jude Watson

  .lit by DrB 11/04

  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 sens
e 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 Qu
intama, 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."