The Defenders Of The Dead(14)
He turned back to Nield and Cerasi. “All right,” he said. “Obi-Wan and I will wait for you to bring us to Tahl. Our primary objective is her rescue. After that, you’re on your own. Is that good enough?”
Nield grinned. “It is all we need.”
Back at the tunnel, preparations began. Nield and Cerasi huddled with the rest of the Young, deep in conversation. Obi-Wan sat quietly at the table, watching them. The determination on their faces told him that whatever the outcome, the Daan and the Melida were both in for a big surprise at dawn the next day.
Qui-Gon paced on the other side of the room, displaying a rare show of impatience.
“If you need help with strategy-” he began.
Cerasi turned. “No,” she said curtly. “We don’t need any help.”
“Another opinion can only strengthen your odds,” Qui-Gon said quietly.
This time, Cerasi didn’t bother to turn. Nield did not even look up.
“We do not want your help, Jedi,” Cerasi said, even more sharply than before.
Obi-Wan glanced at Qui-Gon to gauge his reaction. He saw his Master struggle with his irritation. But although Qui-Gon could be impulsive, he was never petty. The irritation left him, and his usual mask of calm returned.
“Padawan, I am going to explore the tunnels,” he told Obi-Wan in a low voice. “It is better not to rely totally on the Young to guide us. You remain here.”
Obi-Wan nodded. For once, he didn’t want to accompany Qui-Gon. He wanted to stay and watch the Young plan the battle.
Cerasi divided the young people into teams and assigned them tasks. They worked on makeshift weapons fashioned from scraps. Their most prominent weapon was a powerful slingshot that threw laserballs. The balls could only sting a life-form if they connected, but if they hit a hard object, they made a sound like blaster fire.
Over the course of the afternoon, Obi-Wan tried to grow used to the muffled sound of explosions. War toys were part of the childhood of both Melida and Daan. The Young were modifying them to amplify their sound effects. They worked in the rooms branching off the main tunnel on missile tubes, packing them with pebbles and paint.
Cerasi worked on a pile of slingshots in a corner, honing them with a sharp knife and testing their accuracy with wadded up flimsiplast. The
flimsiplast winged across the high space, hitting the same stone block with deadly accuracy. Cerasi worked tirelessly, without a break.
“I’d like to help,” Obi-Wan said, approaching her. “Not with strategy,” he added quickly. “I know you have that under control. But I can help with this.”
Cerasi pushed a lock of hair from her eyes and smiled slightly. “I guess I was hard on your Boss-Master, huh?”
“He’s not my boss, really,” Obi-Wan said. “That’s not the Jedi way. He’s more of a guide.”
“Sure, whatever you say. But if you ask me, elders always think they know best. They just get in the way.” She handed a knife to Obi-Wan. “If you can hone it to the same thickness as the ones I did, we could get these done in a flash.”
Obi-Wan sat and began to scrape the knife against the supple wood. “What do you think our chances of success are tomorrow?”
“Excellent,” Cerasi said firmly. “We’re relying on the hatred of the two sectors. All we need to do is create the illusion of battle. Both sides will react without bothering to verify reports of blaster fire and torpedo launches. They expect warfare at any moment.”
“Your battle may be an illusion, but the danger is not,” Obi-Wan pointed out. “Both sides will have real weapons to fire.”
Cerasi shook her head. “I’m not afraid.”
“Awareness of fear can protect you if it does not overtake you,” Obi-Wan replied.
Cerasi snorted. “Is that one of your Boss-Master’s Jedi sayings?”
Obi-Wan flushed. “Yes. And I have found it to be true. Awareness of fear is an instinct that warns you to be careful. Anyone going into battle who says they are not afraid is a fool.”
“Well, call me a fool, Pada-Jedi,” Cerasi said flatly. “I’m not afraid.”
“Ah,” Obi-Wan said lightly. “You go into glorious battle without fear, confident that your filthy enemy will collapse.”
He was repeating the vain boasts of the dead in the Halls of Evidence, and Cerasi knew it. She flushed as Obi-Wan had a moment before.
“More Jedi wisdom. It’s a wonder you manage to survive this long, if you keep pointing out what foolish things people say,” Cerasi finally said with a half smile. “Okay, I get your point. I’m no better than my ancestors, marching blindly into a battle I will lose.”