He was surprised by the information that Yoda had for him.
“Information about another, larger collection of Sith items we have,” Yoda said gravely. His voice was steady, but Qui-Gon sensed that the wise Jedi Master was alarmed nonetheless. “An anonymous informant it was.”
Qui-Gon listened intently to everything Yoda said, pausing in the street several times. Obi-Wan slowed alongside him, his eyes registering curiosity and concern. When the transmission was finished, Qui-Gon sighed heavily. He was beginning to get a bad feeling about all of this.
“They’ve discovered other Sith artifacts,” Qui-Gon began.
“I thought it was something like that,” Obi-Wan said with a serious nod. “What did they find?”
“A whole storehouse full of partially constructed weapons and devices, and copies of Dr. Lundi’s texts and teachings,” Qui-Gon replied. “The trademark drawing of a Sith Holocron was on the wall.”
Obi-Wan was quiet for a moment as they continued to head back to the hangar. “Where was the storehouse?” he finally asked.
“Umgul, in the Mid Rim,” Qui-Gon replied. He quickened his stride slightly. The sooner they got back to the hangar, the better.
Obi-Wan kept up with his Master. “Nowhere near the first stash,” he said thoughtfully.
“Exactly,” Qui-Gon agreed with a nod. Though he and his apprentice had only recently become aware of them, Sith Sect followers were becoming a hard, cold fact of life.
Qui-Gon moved past an alien selling electronic gadgets and a humanoid female pushing a loaded fruit cart.
Do they study the Sith? he wondered.
A small crowd of people suddenly appeared in front of Qui-Gon, and he momentarily lost track of his apprentice. Normally this would not have bothered him. It was impossible to keep his eyes on his Padawan at all times. But for some reason this time it was disturbing.
Before he could weave through the cluster, blaster fire rang out.
CHAPTER 7
Obi-Wan had his lightsaber activated in less than a second. But with the screaming hoards of people on all sides of him, it was difficult to tell where the bolts were coming from. Focusing his energy, he stood completely still for a nanosecond, then slashed out, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. He successfully deflected three bolts before the firing stopped.
Screams of panic echoed around him long after the firing was over. In the aftermath it was nearly impossible to be certain of the origin of the shots. Obi-Wan deactivated his lightsaber amid more screams and stares. Luckily, nobody appeared to be hurt.
Suddenly Qui-Gon was by his side again. His Master did not need to speak for Obi-Wan to know that there was no use trying to pursue their assailant. The issue at hand was finding the most direct escape route.
Qui-Gon led the way through the crowd to a secluded area outside the market. They were just getting their bearings when more blaster fire rang out - and whizzed past Obi-Wan’s head, nearly grazing an ear. Obi-Wan dropped, then quickly got back on his feet. It was definitely time to return to the hangar.
As they raced through the streets, Obi-Wan wondered if life on Nolar was always this hazardous or if the Jedi had been targeted specifically. If so, by whom? The thugs in the alley? How large a network of Sith Sects could there be? And who was informing them?
Another blaster bolt whizzed past them, but it missed the Jedi by nearly a meter. They were getting away.
Obi-Wan ran after his Master. He appeared to be taking a roundabout path, probably in an attempt to lose their pursuer altogether. As they turned corners and wove through the streets, they gradually left their assailant behind.
Finally the Jedi arrived back at the hangar. Obi-Wan rushed inside and skidded to a stop, but the ship Lundi had hired was gone. Its pilot was lying in a heap on the floor.
The Jedi rushed to the pilot. His large rust-colored head lay on the ground at an odd angle. There was an ugly lump at the base of his neck, and one of his long arms was draped over his closed eyes.
Squatting down beside him, Qui-Gon took his pulse. “It’s weak and slow, but it’s there,” he reported, sitting back on his heels.
“Do you think he’s been drugged?” Obi-Wan asked, looking over the body. The pilot’s two-toed feet were pointing at awkward angles.
“It looks that way,” Qui-Gon replied. “As well as being struck on the head.” He stood up with a sigh. “It may be several hours before we are even able to talk to him.”
Obi-Wan held back his exasperation. Another roadblock. They were on an important mission, yet had no idea where they were going or what they were supposed to do. And to top it off, they were stranded on a planet with someone who wanted to stop them, possibly for good.