[Jedi Quest] - 04(2)

“It will be dark in an hour,” Obi-Wan said. “That will be better for us.”

Soara grimaced. “Maybe. Haariden may be low on large-scale weapons, but they have plenty of nightscopes. They fight anywhere, anytime.”

Through the wind and dust, Anakin saw shapes ahead. Small buildings, built close to the ground. The village. On one side he saw trees stretching to the hills. The trees looked strange, and with a jolt he realized why. The trees had leaves. All of the trees he had seen since landing on Haariden had been bare, their branches blasted by battles fought weeks or days ago.

“After we find them, we can double back through the forest to the transport,” Obi-Wan said. “We’ll cut three kilometers off our route.”

“At least they left some trees standing,” Darra said. “I don’t understand how two forces can destroy everything beautiful on their home planet and just keep on fighting. What is left to fight for? Have you ever seen anything like this?” she asked, waving at the ruined fields and deserted village ahead.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan and Soara said together. They exchanged a glance full of a knowledge Anakin did not understand.

The shadows were long on the road now. They walked into the empty village. Heavy shelling had taken place here. None of the houses or businesses were intact. The wood had burned and the rocks lay in piles, some of them as tall as Obi-Wan.

If the scientists were here, they had hidden well. The Jedi did not want to call out. There was always a danger of snipers in this area - snipers who did not distinguish between visitors and enemies.

They searched methodically through the half-destroyed buildings. Anakin’s heart grew heavy as he kicked through the debris of ordinary lives. A pot, battered and black. A boot. A scorched roll of bedding. A toy.

There’s not much to a life, when you think about it, Anakin considered. As a boy on Tatooine he had longed for nice things, expensive things, for his mother. Once a space merchant had come through the slave hovels with fabric for sale. He remembered how Shmi’s hand had lingered on a rich piece of cloth. He remembered the color, a luxurious ruby. He remembered how it burned inside him that he was unable to buy it for her. How he had vowed that someday he would…

I won’t think of it. Focus.

Darra stood frozen. She gazed down at a tiny crib. A scorched piece of linen trailed on the floor.

“Darra.” Soara’s usually brusque voice was soft. “Come along.”

They moved through to the next house. It had suffered a direct hit. There was only rubble. Anakin could hear Darra’s slow, even breaths beside him. He knew she was concentrating on her breath, slowing it down, trying to focus. Anakin also felt disturbed. It was as though his nightmare went on.

They walked back onto the street and stopped in front of the next building. Obi-Wan and Soara exchanged a glance. Anakin reached out to the Force. It always took him just a beat slower than Obi-Wan to feel it. The Living Force was here.

Obi-Wan headed left, Soara to the right. With a glance, they ordered their Padawans to follow.

Soara went first, headed through the doorway like shimmersilk. She was known for her grace and flowing movements. Obi-Wan followed, keeping to Soara’s left. Anakin and Darra stepped through.

The building had once been a cafŠ. A long counter was charred and blackened. Some tables and chairs remained, but most had been splintered and blown apart. A very large round oven sat in the middle of the room, the size of a small landspeeder. It had been vented through the roof by a stone chimney. The chimney lay in ruins around them.

A rusty metal door swung on one hinge on the oven. Soara and Obi-Wan fanned out on either side, motioning to their Padawans to do the same.

Soara bent over and gently moved the oven door. There was a muffled gasp. A small rustle of movement.

“Don’t be afraid,” Soara said. “We are Jedi.”

“Prove it.” The voice was male and wobbled a bit, fear disguised as bravado.

In a movement so fast Anakin could have blinked and missed it, Soara unsheathed her lightsaber, activated it, and held up the glowing beam in front of the open oven door.

“Thank the stars and galaxies,” the voice breathed.

A face smeared with ashes poked out from the open door. “Needless to say, it is good to see you. I am Dr. Fort Turan. Space geologist. Head of the mission. Objective is the study of the effects of volcanic activity…” A shoulder poked out, and then an arm.

“.. on planetary atmospherics… oof..” Dr. Fort Turan tried to wiggle his ample body through the small space. “… within a scale three system.” The rest of Dr. Fort Turan popped out. Despite a torn tunic and a nasty scrape on one cheek, he beamed at the Jedi. “Now, meet my team.”