The Captive Temple(10)

Behind them, the door hissed open. Qui-Gon saw Obi-Wan in the reflection on the screen. He saw the boy catch sight of him and pause.

“Have any additional problems cropped up?” Qui-Gon quickly asked Miro.

He wanted Obi-Wan to remain, but couldn’t ask him. That would violate the wishes of the Council. But he felt that if he and Miro discussed Temple problems and Qui-Gon didn’t ask him to leave, Obi-Wan would stay.

So this is what Yoda meant, Qui-Gon thought.

Miro sighed. He was a tall alien from the planet Piton, thin as a reed, with a high forehead and pale, almost white eyes. Pitons lived underground on their own planet. They had little pigment in their skin that was almost translucent. They were hairless, and Miro wore a cap and tinted eye shields to protect his eyes from glare.

“When I tried to restore power to the service lift tubes in the lake area, the air circulation failed in the north wing. We have to move all the students to temporary quarters in the main building.”

In the screen reflection, Qui-Gon saw Obi-Wan studying the diagrams.

“So now two wings of the Temple have been

shut down,” Qui-Gon murmured thoughtfully. “You

must

be

very frustrated, Miro.”

Miro’s mournful face collapsed in a deeper frown than the one he already wore. “Frustrated doesn’t cover it, Qui-Gon. I know this system inside and out. But when I fix one problem, three more pop up. It’s difficult to keep up. I’ve never seen such intricate sabotage, not even in hypothetical models. My last resort would be to shut the whole system down to run my own program. That’s something I don’t want to do.”

Qui-Gon felt bothered by this news. Miro was a brilliant, intuitive tech expert. Anyone who could confound him must be a tech genius. Bruck certainly wasn’t capable of this. It seemed he was searching for a slippery being with a hatred of the Jedi, a knack for subterfuge, and now a technological wizard as well.

Qui-Gon drew in a quick, startled breath. The knowledge had been in the back of his mind for some time, cold and insidious, like water seeping into the cracks of a boulder. Now it froze into certainty, blasting the rock to smithereens.

“Xanatos,” he murmured.

Obi-Wan gave a start. Miro looked at Qui-Gon, shocked. “You think Xanatos is involved?”

“It’s possible …” Qui-Gon murmured.

The clues had ticked away for a while now. He had sensed a vengeful, personal motive in this

operation. Xanatos held an implacable hatred for the Jedi - a hatred that was only surpassed by his hatred for Qui-Gon.

And then there was that feeling he’d had in the Room of a Thousand Fountains… could Xanatos have been nearby?

Disruption + Demoralization + Distraction = Devastation. During that mission, Xanatos had been his Padawan. He had been a boy of sixteen. He could have easily remembered the formula.

“I remember him,” Miro said quietly. “He was a year behind me. But he was the only Jedi student who was better at constructing tech infrastructure models.”

Qui-Gon nodded. The young Jedi student’s mind had been what had first attracted Qui-Gon, first made him wonder if he would make a good Padawan.

In that instant, Qui-Gon made a decision. He was not allowed to involve Obi-Wan in the investigation. But things had changed.

He turned and acknowledged Obi-Wan for the first time.

“I need your help,” he said.

Obi-Wan stood frozen, surprised at Qui-Gon’s words.

“I need to see Tahl and report all this,” Qui-Gon said. “I’d like you to come along.”

“But the Council -“

“It is my investigation,” Qui-Gon said firmly. “You have faced Xanatos before. You could be helpful. So come.”

Obi-Wan followed Qui-Gon into the corridor. He walked beside him, feeling a surge of contentment as their footsteps matched in their own rhythm. Not only could he redeem himself by helping the Temple, he would work with Qui-Gon again. Even if he were confined to the fringes of the investigation, he’d take what he could get. It was the first step toward reestablishing the trust between them.

Tahl was checking on the status of the search teams when they arrived. She looked up at them,

her lovely face worried. Obi-Wan hadn’t seen her since Melida/Daan. She’d been ill after her rescue, thin and drawn. Now her extraordinary green-and-gold striped eyes were sightless, but they gleamed against the dark honey tones of her skin.

“Nothing yet,” she said by way of greeting. “Who is with you, Qui-Gon?” She paused. “It’s Obi-Wan, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said hesitantly. He was worried about her reaction to his presence. After all, in order to blow up deflection towers for the Young, he’d stolen the transport intended to spirit her off the planet. Would she hold a grudge? But relief flooded him as her face broke into a smile.