Jedi Apprentice(3)

“Last one,” Obi-Wan said.

Two guards suddenly split off from the others and dashed to either side of the spaceport, ducking behind pillars for cover.

“They’re trying to get behind us!” Obi-Wan alerted Cerasi and Nield. Then he ran to the other end of the cargo boxes, keeping under cover. Roenni hadn’t seen the guards’ maneuver. She leaped down from the last starfighter at the same instant that the guard behind the pillar stepped out to fire. Obi-Wan saw him catch sight of the young girl, whirl, and aim.

Desperately, Obi-Wan reached out for the Force. This time, he felt it surge around him. He put out his hand, and the blaster flew from the surprised guard’s hand. The blaster fire went awry and pinged harmlessly into the wall.

Roenni stood, paralyzed with fear. Obi-Wan dashed to her side while Cerasi and Nield kept up a barrage at the guards. Panic swirled in Roenni’s eyes as she gazed at Obi-Wan.

“I’m right here.” Obi-Wan locked eyes with her, hoping to drive away the fear. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Roenni’s brown eyes cleared. Trust drove out fear. But Cerasi and Nield couldn’t keep the guards down forever. They were exposed. Obi-Wan spotted the empty fuel drum the droid had knocked over. He reached out with the Force. Nothing.

Never gone. Always there, it is.

Obi-Wan groaned. You think so, Yoda? Not for me!

Blaster fire ripped into the fuselage of the starfighter over his head. Obi-Wan pushed Roenni down. Keeping his body bent over hers, he ran, hunched over, to the barrel. Not the greatest protection, but it would have to do.

“We’re going to have to crawl,” he told Roenni. “Keep yourself behind the barrel.”

Roenni crawled in front of him as he pushed the barrel steadily toward Nield and Cerasi. Blaster fire pinged off the metal. Obi-Wan could feel Roenni shaking. When they reached the pile of cargo boxes, she slid behind them with relief.

Obi-Wan rolled the huge barrel toward the front guard. It smashed into his knees, and he fell backward into the guard behind him. They teetered into the line of fire of the other guards.

The four friends took advantage of the moment and ran, firing as they went. They reached the safety of the fuel tanks. Cerasi was the most nimble of them all. She hustled Roenni down, then followed. With a last blast, Nield jumped down. Obi-Wan slid through the opening, then threw out a timed explosive device.

“Run!” he yelled.

They all scrambled to safety - and then the tank exploded, taking most of the hangar with it.

“That should keep them busy,” he told the others.

Nield raised Mawat on the comlink. “It’s done,” he said. “The Elders have no starfighters anymore. You can contact the Middle Generation.”

Mawat’s voice crackled over the comlink. Though the transmission was faint, they could hear his glee.

“I think we just won the war!” he crowed.

The lightsaber came down, missing him by millimeters. Qui-Gon jumped away, surprised. The blow came from nowhere. He hadn’t been paying attention.

He whirled, raising his own lightsaber in defense. His opponent parried, then twisted away to come at him from his left. Their lightsabers tangled, buzzing. Suddenly, his opponent shifted his feet and moved right. Qui-Gon hadn’t expected the move, and his dodge was ill-timed. The lightsaber glanced against his wrist. The burn was nothing compared to his annoyance at himself.

“Round three, it is,” Yoda called from the sidelines. “Approach from opposite corners, you should.”

Qui-Gon wiped his forehead with his sleeve. When he had agreed to take part in a training exercise with the advanced Temple students, he hadn’t expected to work so hard.

He could hear the murmur from the student onlookers as Bruck Chun bowed and retreated to his corner. Bruck was doing better than anyone had expected. He had made it through all six rounds with different opponents. This would be his final match.

Qui-Gon remembered Bruck from his last visit to the Temple. The white-haired boy had fought Obi-Wan in a tough, long match. The two boys were fierce rivals. They had fought out of fury at each other and a desire to win Qui-Gon’s approval. Qui-Gon had been impressed with Obi-Wan’s skills, but not with his anger. Watching Obi-Wan fight, Qui-Gon had been determined not to take the promising boy as his Padawan.

Why hadn’t he listened to his instincts?

Qui-Gon wrenched his attention to the present moment. He

must concentrate. Bruck’s fighting skills had improved tremendously. The duel should have been easy for Qui-Gon, but he found his distraction harder to fight. Bruck had surprised Qui-Gon more than once. The boy fought doggedly, never tiring, and was quick to take advantage of Qui-Gon’s lapses in concentration.