The Dark Rival(14)

Yoda nodded slowly. “Trust is the difference. Easier you think, to change the past than the future.”

Qui-Gon felt irritated. “That’s illogical,” he said. “You can’t change the past.”

“Not logical, yes,” Yoda agreed. “Then why do you think it?” Still nodding, Yoda ended the communication.

Qui-Gon stood at the window, looking east over Bandor. As usual, Yoda had made him question himself. Why had he rebuffed Obi-Wan’s efforts to help? And what if he’d placed the boy in more danger by not warning him about Xanatos?

He had been wrong. Although it sometimes took him too long to come to that conclusion, once he did, he acted swiftly.

He activated his comlink and sent a message to Obi-Wan. Usually, the boy answered immediately. After ten minutes had passed, Obi-Wan grew worried. He sent a message to Si Treemba. No answer. He closed his eyes, gathering the Force. He felt it then, something dark, a void. Obi-Wan was in danger.

Someone pounded on his door. He crossed to it, already knowing it would be bad news.

Clat’Ha stood in the hallway. Her sleek read hair was awry, and her green eyes were full of worry.

“Si Treemba just contacted me with news,” she said. “Obi-Wan has disappeared.”





Chapter 11


With his eyes closed, he heard the sound of the sea. Or was it the pounding in his temples?

Cautiously, Obi-Wan opened his eyes. He was in a long, narrow room with a low ceiling. Rows and rows of sleeping platforms surrounded him. Bedding was rolled up at the foot of each wide platform. He was alone. His lightsaber was gone, as was his comlink.

His ribs and shoulder were bandaged. Something was around his neck. Obi-Wan ran his fingers around it. It was a collar. It felt smooth, with no obvious clasp to remove it. It hummed underneath his fingertips. Maybe it was some sore of healing device.

When he raised his head, a sharp pain made him release his breath in a hiss.

Obi-wan breathed slowly, calming his mind as he’d been taught. He accepted the pain. He welcomed it as a friend, advising him that his body had been injured.

He thanked it for alerting him to this. And he focused his will on healing.

After only a moment or two, the pain lessened slightly, enough for him to stand.

There was a narrow window high above him. He balanced on a sleeping platform and stood tiptoe to see out of it.

Despair filled him. A great gray sea stretched before him for kilometers.

There was no sign of land. No ships. Only this huge platform, with tall towers rising from the sea.

He knew where he was at once - the Great Sea of Bandomeer, which covered half the planet. He must be on some sort of deepsea mining platform. The deepsea mines were only whispered about. They were rough, dangerous places that many miners did not survive.

“So you’re awake.”

Obi-Wan turned, startled. A tall, mournful creature stood in the doorway. His skin was dark, but appeared to be peeling in white patches. Two white circles surrounded his eyes. He had extraordinarily long, rubbery arms that dangled past his knees.

“How are you feeling? I was worried,” he asked, but before Obi-Wan could respond, he chuckled. “I lie! Not so!”

“Who are you?” Obi-Wan asked. He felt dizzy, and he commanded his mind to clear. He stepped down carefully from the platform.

“The name is Guerra, not that you need to know it so. I’m a Phindian. We’re a mixed lot, here. Which reminds me, Human boy,. Move.”

Guerra’s arm shot out suddenly. It reached across two sleeping platforms and fastened on Obi-Wan’s wrist. “I don’t have all day. The guards will be here with electro-jabbers for both of us if I don’t get you outfitted.”

“Outfitted for what?”

“Outfitted for what? A vacation on Syngia moon!” Guerra chortled. “Not so, I lie! Mining, of course.”

“But I’m not a miner,” Obi-Wan protested as Guerra dragged him toward the doorway.

“Oh, so sorry. In that case, you don’t have to work.” Guerra’s odd, patchy face leered at him. “Instead, you can be thrown off the platform. You’ll have such a lovely swim -“

“Not so?” Obi-Wan guessed.

Guerra chortled and slapped Obi-Wan on the back, sending him flying. “Good one, Human boy! Not so! Thrown off to drown. Except the fall will kill you first!

Now, come along.”

Guerra pushed him through the doorway. A cold wind hit his face. Around him were piles of mining equipment. Droids were busy hauling beamdrills to a lift tube, where workers were waiting. Guards were everywhere on the platform, patrolling with electro-jabbers and blasters.

As they climbed stairs to the second level, Obi-Wan saw that the platform was much bigger than he’d thought, about the size of a small city. Hydrocrafts sped back and forth from the deepsea platforms that ringed the main structure.