Jedi Apprentice 3: The Hidden Past
Шрифт:
Obi-Wan cut through the first droid on his right, then used his momentum to twist and roll into the legs of a second. The droid wobbled, trying to aim as Obi-Wan sliced through its spindly legs with his lightsaber. As soon as the droid fell, Obi-Wan dealt a blow to the control panel on its chest. The droid collapsed, inoperative.
But Obi-Wan was already moving on to the next and the next, and the next. He could sense Qui-Gon's movements behind him, and knew that Qui-Gon was driving the droids back toward the crumbling wall of the landing platform. Fighting, slicing, always moving, Obi-Wan was able to reach the outer flank of the droids, allowing him to drive them back to where Qui-Gon wanted them.
There were only four droids left standing when the Jedi were able to maneuver them against the wall. Working in tandem, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan avoided the constant blaster fire and, with a sudden movement, rushed the droids, slicing through their jointed legs. The four collapsed in a heap, and Qui-Gon attacked again, making sure they were down for good.
He turned to look at Obi-Wan. His blue eyes gleamed.
"So they weren't escorts," he said. "I was wrong. It happens."
"I'll remember that," he said with a grin.
Qui-Gon twisted, searching the hanger with a frown. "Where's that blasted Pilot?"
The Phindian was gone.
Qui-Gon strode back up the ramp into the ship. The control console had been disabled, hit by blaster fire.
"They must have ordered a droid to do that while the rest were fighting," Qui-Gon said with a frown. "Now we can't take off again."
Qui-Gon reached for his comlink. He pressed the coordinates to reach Yoda, but nothing happened. "Communications must be jammed on this world," he murmured. "Obviously, they don't want interference."
"What should we do, Master?" Obi-Wan asked.
"We need to talk to Pilot," Qui-Gon answered.
"But how will we find him?"
Qui-Gon's mouth tightened. "Don't worry. He'll find us."
Chapter 4
They left the landing platform and followed a narrow, twisting street into the heart of the city. Qui-Gon directed Obi-Wan to raise his hood to cover his face.
"We must be on Phindar," Qui-Gon murmured. "All those we've passed have been Phindians, and I know we're close to Gala. This is Probably Laressa, their capital city. I do not think there are many alien people on this world. We must try not to attract attention. Keep your arms inside your cloak."
Obi-Wan obeyed him. "But Master, why do you say Pilot will find us? How do you know?"
"Landing here was no accident, Obi-Wan."
It seemed like a complete accident to Obi-Wan, but he knew better than to say so. Instead he turned his attention to his surroundings. He was not distracted now. He forgot it was his birthday, forgot everything but watching how his Master moved through the streets. As they grew closer to the center of the city and the streets grew more crowded, Qui-Gon changed. Usually, the Jedi Master's bearing alone commanded attention. He was a large, powerfully built man and he moved with grace.
But on this planet, Qui-Gon moved differently. He lost what made him unique and shuffled along with the crowd. Obi-Wan watched, and learned. He, too, matched his pace to those around him. He glanced at what they glanced at, looked away, kept his eyes ahead, all with the rhythm of the passerby. He saw that Qui-Gon was doing the same. The look of fierce attention was gone from Qui-Gon's gaze, but Obi-Wan knew he was taking in everything.
Phindar was a strange world. The people were dressed simply, and Obi-Wan could see that their clothes had been mended many times. Readout signs in shops announced in scrolling type NOTHING TODAY or CLOSED UNTIL SHIPMENT. Phindians would glance at the signs, sigh, and plod on further, their market baskets empty. Lines formed outside shuttered shops, as if the Phindians were willing to chance that they would open soon.
Assassin droids were everywhere, their joints clicking, heads rotating. On the muddy, unpaved street, gleaming silver landspeeders zoomed by with no regard for traffic rules or pedestrians attempting to cross.
A current ran between the people, and Obi-Wan reached out with the Force to meet and understand it. What was the feeling?
"Fear," Qui-Gon remarked quietly. "It's everywhere."
A groups of three Phindians dressed in full-length metallic silver coats suddenly appeared on the walkway. They strode, shoulder to shoulder, their dark visors swallowing up the sunlight. The other Phindians quickly moved off the walkway into the muddy road. Obi-Wan's steps faltered, astonished. The people had moved so quickly and without thought, stepping into the mud with a reaction born of habit. The silver-coated Phindians didn't falter, but took charge of the walkway as if it were their right.
Qui-Gon gave Obi-Wan a hard tug on his cape, and quickly they both stepped off the paved walkway into the muddy street. The silver-coated men marched by.
As soon as they passed, the other Phindians, without a word, climbed back onto the paved walkway. Once again, they began the process of looking into shops, then turning away when they saw there was nothing for sale.
"Do you notice anything strange about some of them?" Qui-Gon murmured. "Look at their faces."
Obi-Wan gazed into the faces of the passersby. He saw resignation, desperation. But slowly he realized that on some faces he saw… nothing. There was a strange blankness in their eyes.
"Something is not right here," Qui-Gon remarked softly. "It is more than fear."
Suddenly, a large gold landspeeder screamed around a corner. The Phindians in the street scurried to safety, and the others on the walkway shrank back against the buildings.