Qui-Gon knew that the gas pumped into molten carbonite was toxic, but decided to keep the information to himself. He didn’t need to tell Obi-Wan. The boy had caught the implication and scrambled even faster down the tunnel.
Thirty seconds. Qui-Gon tried to move fluidly, gracefully. He was a big man, and wasn’t normally fast on his hands and knees in a confined space. He felt the Force surrounding Obi-Wan in
front of him, and it seemed to vibrate around them in the enclosed space, giving them strength and agility.
Qui-Gon saw a fractured beam of light ahead. They were approaching the grate.
Obi-Wan blasted through the opening so fast he seemed just a streak to Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon swung himself out. Miro was standing at the console, his fingers flying on the keys.
“Stop!” Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon yelled together.
“Don’t activate the air circulation system,” Qui-Gon warned. “It’s booby-trapped.”
It didn’t seem possible that Miro’s translucent skin could pale. But for a moment he seemed to shimmer like a ghost. He jerked his hand back from the console.
“We have to find the bug,” Qui-Gon said, striding toward the console.
Miro punched in a code, and the blue screen that surrounded them filled with numbers and graphs. “I ran a complete bug check when the system was powered down,” he said. “Nothing came up. There’s no program in the system anymore except for mine. Are you sure about this, Qui-Gon?”
“No,” Qui-Gon said reluctantly. “Xanatos could have lied. But can we take the chance?”
“I can run the checks again,” Miro said, tapping on the keys. “Maybe I missed something.”
Obi-Wan stared up at the blue screen, trying to read the schematics of the system. Qui-Gon turned away. He knew that Miro was vastly better at figuring out tech systems.
But he could do something that Miro could not. He could go inside the mind of Xanatos.
Qui-Gon closed his eyes, remembering the final scene with Xanatos on the ledge. His enemy’s fatal flaw was his need to boast. Often he inadvertently let slip something that would alert Qui-Gon to the diabolical windings of his mind.
And Xanatos prided himself on his elegance. Whatever he had done, it would have a twist.
Qui-Gon remembered the fiendish glee in Xanatos’ expression. Yes, there was something personal about what he had done, some final, stinging slap to the Jedi.
What you revere can destroy you….
Qui-Gon’s eyes sprang open. “Miro, where is the main power source of the system?” he barked.
“In the power core,” Miro answered. He crossed the room and opened a durasteel door marked fusion furnace. “Here.”
Qui-Gon hurried through the door. He found himself in a small circular room. A catwalk ran around a deep central core. A ladder led down into it.
“This is the fusion reactor. The power sources
are lined up in a grid,” Miro explained. “It goes down about ten stories. I’m running my second checkup on the power sources now, but nothing came up the first time -“
“No,” Qui-Gon murmured. “It wouldn’t.”
He hoisted himself onto the ladder and began to climb down. “Whatever you do, don’t reboot the system,” he called up to Miro.
It didn’t take him long to reach the bottom of the core. Qui-Gon circled around slowly, running his hands along the various compartments and dials. He saw a compartment labeled fusion furnace access.
Qui-Gon pressed the lever. The door slid open. Nestled inside were the stolen Healing Crystals of Fire.
He tucked the glowing artifacts reverently in his tunic. Immediately, they warmed his skin.
He climbed up the ladder where Miro and Obi-Wan were waiting anxiously. He pulled the crystals out of his tunic. “They were in the fusion furnace,” he told Miro.
“They would have served as a massive power source,” Miro said, his voice slightly unsteady. He cleared his throat. “They would have started a chain reaction with the burst of energy from the reboot. If I had punched that key -“
“What we revere would have destroyed us,” Qui-Gon finished.
The Temple returned to normal faster than anyone thought possible. Systems were up and running, students moved back to their quarters, new food shipments arrived, and classes resumed.
Obi-Wan felt out of step. He did not feel normal again. He still remembered the brush of Bruck’s fingers against his. Time and again he stared down at his hand and opened and closed his fist, remembering how he had grabbed air instead of Bruck.
Bruck had tried to kill his friend. Obi-Wan was glad that he had stopped him. But he had been responsible for another person’s death, and he could not forget it.
Obi-Wan only had one mission now: to talk to Bant.