Star Wars - Jedi Apprentice 05 - The Defenders of the Dead Page 2

  "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 sai
led 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 territory. 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 ali
ve, 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."