The Rising Force (6 page)

―We have to search the cabins, Si Treemba,‖ Obi-Wan said, picking a stray piece of garbage from his hair. He sighed. Over four hundred

Arconan miners were in those cabins. He couldn‘t imagine that they would

let him just search their rooms.

―That will be no problem, Obi-Wan,‖ Si Treemba replied.

Obi-Wan had forgotten how Arconans think. They had no word for me or mine. So Si Treemba wandered from cabin to cabin, searching each bunk

and storage compartment. A dozen times, Arconans asked, ―What are we

doing?‖

Each time, Si Treemba answered, ―We are looking for something that

was lost.‖

To which the Arconan would ask, ―May we help find it?‖

And Si Treemba would merely answer, ―We need no assistance.‖ The Si

Treemba and Obi-Wan would search the room and leave.

But not all the workers for Arcona Mineral Harvest were Arconan. Some were short, silver-haired Meerians returning to Bandomeer, some Human. Obi-Wan had to treat these carefully. More than once he found himself using the Force to convince some burly miner to let him search.

It was exhausting work for someone who was still recovering, but

Obi-Wan ignored his own pain and weariness. A Jedi did not give into such feelings.

After a long day, Obi-Wan and Si Treemba went to the kitchens for a late meal.

Obi-Wan ate a full dinner of roast gorak bird cooked in mall petals from Alderaan. Si ate Arconan fungi covered with dactyl, a type of yellow

ammonia crystal. The Arconan‘s food smelled . . . well, the fungus wasn‘t

bad, but the dactyl smelled like poison.

Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose. ―How could anyone eat that stuff?‖ Si Treemba smiled. His faceted eyes glittered. ―Some creatures

wonder how Humans can drink water, yet you take delight in it. Dactyl is as necessary to us as water is to you.‖ Having said that, he took a couple of crunchy yellow stones and popped them into his mouth like

candy.

fear.

?When Obi-Wan reached for salt, Si Treemba pulled his plate away in

―Salt increases our need for dactyl a hundredfold,‖ Si Treemba explained. ―It is a very dangerous substance to Arconans.‖

Obi-Wan sprinkled the salt on his gorak bird. ―We all have our own poisons, I guess,‖ he said cheerfully, taking a bite.

Si Treemba grinned at him and crunched on his dactyl. It was almost like being back at the Temple eating with Bant or Reeft, Obi-Wan thought. He missed his friends, but he liked Si Treemba more and more as he spent time with him. The Arconan had courage and determination that impressed

him. And Obi-Wan was aware that it took nerve for an Arconan to break off from the group and help a stranger.

―You know,‘ Obi-Wan remarked, ―there‘s one think I don‘t

understand. Jemba puts on a good show. But I sense he‘s afraid of Clat‘Ha

and the Arconans.‖

Si Treemba swallowed a mouthful of dactyl and fungi. ―We think you‘re right, Obi-Wan. He fears us. Even though it is not or intent, he knows we will destroy him.‖

―How is that?‖ Obi-Wan asked.

―In Offworld mining, the chiefs and overseers make fortunes, while the common workers make nothing. Many of them are slaves. But at Arcona Mineral Harvest, we have no chieftains, no overseers. Each worker shares

in the profits. This did not bother Offworld until Clat‘Ha began to

expand our operations. So she contacts the better workers at Offworld. If

they are slaves, she offers to buy them and set them free if they will

work for us. If they have signed work contracts, she offers to buy the

contracts.‖

―That sounds fair,‖ Obi-Wan said.

―It is fair,‖ Si Treemba agreed. ―That is exactly why Jemba fears us. Many good workers wish to join us, only the bad will stay at Offworld.‖

―I see,‖ Obi-Wan said. ―So in a few years, Jemba will have only chiefs with no one to boss around. He‘d hate that.‖

Si Treemba grinned, then turned serious. ―But Jemba has stalled us. He has raised the price on labor contracts and slaves. We can no longer afford to hire Offworld workers.‖

Obi-Wan was beginning to see that the galaxy was a far more complicated place than he‘d realized. The Temple had prepared him for so many things. But they had not prepared him for this. He had known that

most worlds in the galaxy had outlawed slavery, and he had assumed that it was rare. But here were hundreds of workers locked in an illegal practice.

Obi-Wan was horrified at the idea of slavery. Since Offworld had paid good money to buy and train slaves, the company wasn‘t likely to sell them cheap – or to let them go without a fight. Clat‘Ha had been

right when she told Obi-Wan he had stepped into a war. This battle would

probably wage through mining camps on hundreds of worlds.

He wanted to race to the other side of the ship, lightsaber in hand, and right every wrong. But that wasn‘t the way, he knew. He had to find those thermocoms. Exposure was the only way to fight Jemba.

He pushed his plate away. ―We‘ve searched everywhere on this side

of the ship, Si‖ he said. ―The thermocoms must be in Offworld territory.‖

The Arconan boy took a deep breath, then released it slowly. ―Good. We are pleased.‖

―Pleased?‖ Obi-Wan asked. ―But now we have to invade Offworld

territory. I thought you were terrified of Hutts.‖

―That we are,‖ Si Treemba agreed. ―But still, we are pleased because if the thermocoms are not here, it means that we are innocent. Someone at Offworld Mining is really trying to kill us.‖

―Yes, I can see how that would be comforting,‖ Obi-Wan teased, though he did understand. The Arconans were hatched from eggs and raised in huge nest – with hundreds of brothers and sisters growing together at

the same time. From their youth, they were trained to think of themselves as a group. The thought that any Arconan – any of Si‘s brothers or sisters—would do something that might hurt or shame the groups must have

filled the young Arconan with dread.

―So are you ready to search in Hutt territory?‖ Obi-Wan asked.

―We‘ll have to find a way to sneak over.‖

Si Treemba pushed away his plate of fungi and dactyl. ―as we said

before, Obi-Wan, we will follow you.‖

Obi-Wan grinned. ―You might be sorry you said that.‖

Obi-Wan and Si Treemba crawled forward through the airshaft and gazed through a grate down into a dark cabin. A huge Whiphid was lying asleep on a bunk, a ball of sour-smelling fur. The odor of cheap Dresselian beer filled the room.

The cabin looked like a monument to filth, just like all the others Obi-Wan had seen today. The Whiphid wore dirty, half-cured hides from his homeworld of Toola. Piles of painted animal skulls were stacked in every corner, looking like hunting trophies. Worse that that, Obi-Wan could see that Hutts had been bunking in the same room: The floor was littered with the furry parts of half-eaten small animals.

Obi-Wan studied the shadowy scene below for a long minute. The Whiphid was probably drunk. Otherwise he would have been out playing sabacc or some other card game with his friends.

But something felt wrong. Maybe the Whiphid was only faking sleep. It could be a trap.

Obi-Wan tried to peer farther into the room. It looked empty but for the lone Whiphid. He couldn‘t see the corners of the room, however.

His unease deepened. He could feel dark ripples in the force, but what did it mean? Evil streamed through this side of the ship like

poisonous air. He‘d searched several rooms already. He‘d found illegal

weapons – riot guns and biotic grenades. He‘d found a small casket filled with credit chips that might have been stolen loot. But he hadn‘t found any thermocoms.

He studied the Whiphid again. He was lying on his cot. Beneath his head Obi-Wan could see a barely concealed weapon. Among such creatures, sleeping with a blaster was the norm.

Obi-Wan watched the Whiphid breathe. He took shallow breaths, a bit too unevenly for Obi-Wan to be comfortable. If he was asleep at all, he was sleeping lightly.

Too often in the past, Obi-Wan‘s impatience had gotten him into

trouble. This time he decoded to trust his instincts.

Carefully, quietly, Obi-Wan scooted past this room. He glanced behind him in the cramped duct. Si Treemba was at his heels. The poor Arconan could hardly move his huge triangular head through the shaft.

Then Si Treemba banged his head on the metal duct. It made a small thump.

Obi-Wan cringed.

Because Si Treemba‘s people had evolved in the tunnels of Arcona,

his marvelous faceted eyes gave off a faint

bioluminescent light. Obviously, Arconans were not animal hunters. Obi-Wan only hoped that as they passed the cabin below, the Whiphid would not glance and see the Arconan.

Obi-Wan held his breath and moved forward, inching along toward the air vent for the next cabin.

The odor coming from the room ahead was horrible – a mixture of

sour fat and greasy hair. Obi-Wan could hear voices, the booming laughter

of Hutts, the animal growls of Whiphids.

He brushed aside some dust and peered through the next vent. The cabin was full of Hutts and Whiphids, all crouched around the floor, playing dice.

Si Treemba would never be able to sneak past them. They‘d have to back up, as they had done so many times today. Obi-Wan feared they were completely lost.

Glancing back down the air shaft, Obi-wan could see Si Treemba cautiously inching toward the previous air shaft. Obi-Wan waved a hand,

trying to get the Arconan‘s attention, when suddenly a blinding flash of

light erupted through the shaft, and a deafening boom roared.

Someone had shot a blaster through the vent! Smoke began to fill the air. They were trapped!

Frantically, Obi-Wan signaled at Si Treemba to hurry toward him. But even as he did, a huge furry paw pushed through the metal grate and grabbed Si Treemba by the throat.

Si Treemba‘s glittering eyes widened in terror. He let out a choked sound that might have been a call for help. The he was yanked through the grate. Obi-Wan heard the thump of his body hitting the ground.

Through the vent behind him, Obi-Wan heard a Hutt laugh cruelly.

―And you said there were womp rats in the air shaft! I told you I smelled an Arconan!‖

Obi-Wan‘s heart pounded. In seconds he knew that someone would stick his head up through the grill, blaster in hand, looking for more like Si Treemba.

Moving quickly as he dared, he scooted silently toward a corner twenty meters ahead. He pulled himself around it, sweat streaming down

his face. Behind him, he heard the faint sound of Si Treemba screaming. A Whiphid roared in anger.

Obi-Wan bit his lip. He wanted to block out the sounds of Si Treemba‘s screams, but he deserved to hear them. He had gotten the Arconan into this mess.

Through the air shaft, he heard someone growl, ―I don‘t see anyone else up here.‖

He didn‘t dare return for Si Treemba. Instead, Obi-Wan crawled forward blindly, turning several corners and moving quickly through the ducts. He had to get help!

ship.

?At last he stopped, panting. There was no help on this side of the

Qui-Gon had warned him to stay out of Offworld territory. Now Obi- Wan realized he had to go back. The Hutts and Whiphids would think Si Treemba was a spy.

They might try to torture a confession from him. They might even

kill him. And they wouldn‘t wait long.

He had been so foolish! He should have realized how difficult it would be to penetrate this side of the ship. He had led Si Treemba straight into danger.

He had taken advantage of Si Treemba‘s loyalty to him.

Maybe Qui-Gon‘s hesitation about him had been right all along. Maybe he didn‘t deserve to be a Jedi.

Obi-Wan wiped the sweat from his eyes with the hem of his tunic. He made sure his lightsaber was holstered securely.

Then he turned back to help his friend. Chapter 11

Qui-Gon swung his legs over his sleep-couch. He felt his heart pound in his chest, every muscle on alert. But why?

He had been resting when he sensed it. It felt as though danger was near, but Qui-Gon was not in danger . . .

Suddenly, he recognized the feeling. He had experienced it before. Jedi sometimes sense when another Jedi, close to them, is in trouble. At times, they can even see a vague picture of what that trouble might be. Qui-Gon searched his mind, but did not see anything clear. Only haze.

―Obi-Wan,‖ he murmured. It had to be the boy. Qui-Gon fought against the feeling. It was ridiculous, absurd. The boy was not his Padawan. Why would there be such a strong connection between them?

Yet there it was. Yoda would be pleased. Qui-Gon groaned. He was not.

Wherever he turned, the boy appeared. He was happy to treat Obi- Wan‘s injuries, but he refused to be responsible for his welfare. If the boy had gotten himself into some sort of mess, he would just have to find

his own way out of it.

Qui-Gon stretched out on the sleep-couch again. But this time, although he could quiet his body, he could not quiet his mind.

Time seemed to crawl as Obi-Wan desperately searched for Si Treemba. He had to drag himself through the air shaft, sneaking past miner cabins and peering through grates, holding his breath. Grime covered his hands and grit flew into his eyes as he stirred up years of dust.

At last he found Si Treemba, four floors down near the belly of the ship. A small cabin had been made into a make shift prison cell. Apparently, the Monument had need of a temporary jail during its