The Defenders Of The Dead(3)

“In some sort of holding cell,” Qui-Gon answered. Smooth durasteel walls surrounded them. There was no crack or opening that Obi-Wan could see.

“We’re trapped,” he said. His voice bounced off the walls, sounding hollow.

“No, Padawan,” Qui-Gon said quietly. “There is more than one entrance to this cell.”

“How do you know?”

“Because we are not the first to fall into it.” Qui-Gon explored the tiny space, using his lightsaber for illumination. “The tube we fell down is battered, and the dirt is disturbed by other footprints. The others have been taken out somehow, and it would be impossible to do so from the way we came in. This trap is engineered to capture, not kill. There must be another door. Besides,” he added, “there are no bones or remains. That means that whoever set the trap removes who they capture.”

“Eventually,” Obi-Wan muttered. His stomach was empty, and he wished he’d had time to eat before he’d left the starfighter. “I lost my survival pack,” he told Qui-Gon. “It’s on the surface.”

“Mine is as well. We’ll have to use our lightsabers,” Qui-Gon replied.

Obi-Wan had food in mind more than illumination, but he followed Qui-Gon’s example and activated his lightsaber. He held it close to the walls surrounding him, examining them. As he worked, he felt the Force begin to move between them, filling the space.

He clearly saw every irregularity in the seemingly smooth walls. He searched for a hidden

seam, sure now that they would find one. All he had to do was trust the Force.

As a student at the Temple, he had been mystified by the Force. He knew he was Force-sensitive - it was why he had been chosen to study at the Temple as a child. But throughout his training, he often found the Force elusive and unreliable. He was able to tap into it, but not every time he wanted to. When he did, he could not control it.

With Qui-Gon, he had learned that it was not his job to control it, but to join it. Now he could rely on it to guide him, give him strength and vision. He was beginning to understand how deeply it pulsed, how steady a presence it was. As a Jedi, he had constant access to it It was the greatest gift he could imagine being given.

“Here,” Qui-Gon said quietly.

At first, Obi-Wan could not see anything. But then he noticed the tiny hairline crack in the even surface of the wall.

Qui-Gon moved his hand over the seam. “Of course the locking device is on the other side,” he mused. “I’m assuming it’s blast-proof. But I’m also assuming that no Jedi has ever been trapped here before.”

Together, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon moved the beams of their lightsabers down the outline of the door. The sabers cut through the metal,

which curled back like a tender green leaf. A small opening was exposed.

Qui-Gon squeezed through, and Obi-Wan followed. He found himself in a short, narrow tunnel, which led to what he sensed was a huge space. It was pitch-dark, a darkness so black it held no shadows. Even the glow of his lightsaber seemed swallowed up by the absolute darkness.

They stopped, listening carefully. But not a sound moved through the space. Obi-Wan could not even hear his breathing, or Qui-Gon’s. Jedi are trained to slow their breath so they make no sound, even when they are under pressure or stress.

“I think we are alone,” Qui-Gon said quietly. His voice echoed, confirming Obi-Wan’s belief that they were in a wide, open space.

They moved forward cautiously, lightsabers held in defensive position. Obi-Wan felt a trickle of perspiration snake down the back of his neck. Something was wrong here. He could feel it.

“The Force is dark,” Qui-Gon murmured. “Angry. Yet I don’t feel a living Force here.”

Obi-Wan nodded. He could not have put his finger on what he felt, but Qui-Gon had been able to. Some deep-rooted evil was here, yet he did not feel a living pulse around him.

Obi-Wan’s foot hit a ledge that he hadn’t been

able to see. He reached out to steady himself against a stone column. In that split-second of lost concentration, a flicker of movement came from his right.

He whirled, lightsaber held high. A warrior appeared, moving quickly toward him from the deep shadows, his blaster aimed straight at Obi-Wan’s heart.

Obi-Wan sprang, his lightsaber slashing forward. The beam did not meet flesh or bone, but passed harmlessly through the figure.

Surprised, Obi-Wan whirled to the left to launch another attack, but Qui-Gon stopped him.

“You cannot fight this enemy, Padawan,” Qui-Gon said.

Obi-Wan looked closer. The warrior, he realized, was a hologram.

Suddenly, a voice boomed out. “I am Quintama, Captain of the Melida Liberation Force.” The hologram moved his blaster to his side. “Tomorrow will commence the Twenty-First Battle of Zehava. It will doom our Daan enemies to destruction once and for all, and we shall achieve glorious victory. We shall recapture the city that we founded a thousand years ago. All Melida will live in peace.”