Qui-Gon could not keep the surprise from his face. Vertex was a highly valuable mineral. After the raw substance was mined, it was cut into crystals of various shapes for currency. Many worlds used crystalline vertex instead of credits.
“Unprecedented it was, to accept such a shipment,” Yoda agreed, noting Qui-Gon’s surprise. “Yet the Council thought it best. Two star systems there are, locked in conflict over the shipment. Agree to peace talks they would not, unless a neutral party held the shipment. Almost concluded, the peace agreement is. If word there is that the Temple is vulnerable, war there would be.” Yoda’s voice dropped in concern. “A large war it would be, Qui-Gon. Many alliances these star systems have.”
Qui-Gon digested this information. It often struck him that even while the Temple was a haven, it was connected to the galaxy in so many intricate ways.
“There is no time to waste,” he told Yoda. “I will start with Miro Daroon. I must discover how Bruck and this intruder manage to navigate around the Temple without being seen. I’ll need to coordinate with Tahl.”
Yoda blinked at him. “And Obi-Wan?”
“The Council has ordered Obi-Wan to stay out of this,” Qui-Gon answered, surprised.
“Predict I do that the boy will find a way to offer his help again,” Yoda said.
“And I should refuse?”
Yoda waved an arm. “Directly involved the boy should not be. But shut him out, I would not.”
Qui-Gon smiled grimly as he hurried away. It was contradictory advice, typical of Yoda. Yet the Master’s advice somehow always turned out to make perfect sense.
Qui-Gon took a shortcut through the Room of a Thousand Fountains in order to reach the lift tube that would take him directly to the tech center. He walked purposefully through the winding paths, barely noticing his surroundings, intent on the problem at hand.
Then he saw the destroyed footbridge where the attack on Yoda had taken place.
Qui-Gon stopped, his gaze on the splintered bridge, his thoughts suddenly in the past. Years ago, he had a mission to stop a tyrant from taking over a world in the Outer Rim. The tyrant’s strategy was based on a simple equation: Disruption + Demoralization + Distraction = Devastation.
That was the pattern, Qui-Gon realized. The thefts had followed the formula. Disruption: the petty thefts disrupted classes and activities. Demoralization: the theft of the Healing Crystals of Fire and the attack on Yoda had caused many students to lose heart. Distraction: the failing of the cooling system, the security breaches, and the destruction of one of the main turbolifts meant that the Jedi had to focus to keep the Temple running. Was the same evil formula
working to dismantle the Temple? That tyrant was dead, killed years ago, but had he spread his equation of evil?
Suddenly, Qui-Gon felt a deep disturbance in the Force. It cleaved the air in front of him. The solid rocks seemed to shimmer.
The dark side was here.
The feeling lingered. The fountains continued to flow, the spray from rushing water still cooling his cheeks. He surveyed the area carefully, noting every leaf, every shadow. He saw nothing out of the ordinary.
Yet he knew something was there.
Obi-Wan decided he needed a new comlink. What if something happened in front of his eyes again, and he needed to summon help? Or suppose Qui-Gon or the Council changed their minds and needed him?
It could be wishful thinking, but I don’t care, Obi-Wan thought. have to think like a Jedi, even if the Council doesn’t want me to.p>
Instead of heading to his quarters, Obi-Wan started toward the tech center. He was sure that Miro Daroon would let him have a new comlink.
Ahead of him, he saw a familiar figure striding down the hall, munching on a piece of muja fruit as she walked. It was Siri, a fellow student. He didn’t know her very well, but he knew she’d been a friend of Bruck’s. Maybe if he questioned her, she could come up with a clue about Bruck. He could return to the Council with the information.
He called her name, and she stopped and turned. The impact of her blue eyes was like a cresting wave. Siri had always been striking, but she hated to have anyone comment on her good looks. She kept her blond hair in a close-cropped style, swept straight off her forehead. The boyish style was probably intended to dim her beauty but instead only enhanced her intelligent eyes and glowing skin.
When she realized who’d called her name, Siri’s friendly expression cooled. Obi-Wan wondered why. They had never been friends, but they’d been friendly. Siri was two years younger than Obi-Wan, but her abilities had landed her in Obi-Wan and Bruck’s lightsaber class. She had been a worthy opponent. Obi-Wan considered her style athletic and highly focused. Unlike other students, she never got distracted during a duel by emotions such as anger or fear, and she never involved herself in petty rivalries. Privately, Obi-Wan had always thought of her as a little too focused. She never seemed to relax or join in the jokes and fun that students enjoyed in their downtime.