Jedi Apprentice 4: The Mark of the Crown (звёздные войны) Read online

  Obi-Wan touched the scrolling device. As far as he could make out, Offworld had donated a large sum to Deca Brun's campaign. The money had been funneled through several names of other Galacian companies.

  Obi-Wan closed the file and scrolled through the remaining file titles, but there was no other mention of Offworld. Then he saw a file marked GALACIAN MINING CORP. He accessed it. It was a detailed plan for opening up half of tiny Gala to mining operations. This would include the Galacian Sea, the largest source of fresh water for the planet — and the home of the few remaining sea people.

  Obi-Wan quickly read through the plans, which included importing workers from other worlds, building spaceports for the huge transports that were part of Offworld operations, and "recruiting" native Galacians for the work.

  The company was a front for Offworld.

  Deca Brun must have agreed to the plans in exchange for financial support, Obi-Wan realized. Deca claimed his treasury was based on small donations from the average Galacian. It was proof of his wide support. But instead, most of his campaign had been funded by Offworld.

  Obi-Wan quickly shut down the holofile. He turned and hurried through the door where Jono had disappeared. He had to find the boy, get out of there, and warn Qui-Gon…

  Instead, he ran into four blasters pointed at his chest. Four guards stood in the hallway. Behind them was another door. Obi-Wan heard the lock click behind him on the door he'd just run through.

  "Give me your weapons, spy," one of them said.

  "I'm not a spy-" Obi-Wan began. Blaster fire suddenly erupted. Obi-Wan heard it whistle by his ear and thud into the wall behind him. Bits of stone flew out.

  One cut his cheek.

  "Give me your weapons, spy," the guard repeated.

  Another guard came forward. He took Obi-Wan's lightsaber and comlink.

  "Do you know," the guard said conversationally, "how much food it takes to feed Deca's organization?"

  Surprised by the question, Obi-Wan shook his head.

  "Let me show you," the guard invited. He pushed Obi-Wan forward roughly with his blasters.

  They took him to a vast kitchen area. Then they opened a thick durasteel door and shoved him inside. It was a food storage area. Boxes lined row after row of shelves, and meat hung from hooks on a far wall. It was cold. Obi-Wan landed on the floor of the huge freezer. He heard the thick door shut, and the bolt shot home.

  As soon as Qui-Gon woke, he knew the storm was over. The wind had died, and an eerie stillness lay over the camp. When he cracked open the door of the dome, he saw a white blanket of snow, and a clear blue sky. Elan would want him to leave today. Qui-Gon gathered his things, trying to gather his thoughts as well. Was there another argument he had yet to try? He refused to give up. He sensed that Elan's participation in the election process was crucial for its success.

  He ate a small breakfast and walked through the snow to Elan's dome. The hill people were already stirring. Children were playing in the snow. A man gathered late season berries from a bush. Dana waved at him from across the clearing, where he was carrying wood for an elder.

  Qui-Gon knocked on the door of Elan's dome, and she called out an invitation to enter. She was mixing salves and potions at a work table in front of a small, cheerful fire. Qui-Gon remembered Obi-Wan's suspicions. He had discounted them immediately. Had he been wrong to do so? Yet something in Elan felt pure to him, felt real. He could not imagine her capable of condemning someone to a slow death by poisoning. Qui-Gon pulled up a chair next to her.

  "Don't get too comfortable," she said. "You're leaving this morning."

  "The snow seems deep," Qui-Gon observed.

  "We'll give you a swoop," she said. She began to rub herbs into a paste.

  "My wounds still trouble me," Qui-Gon said.

  "I'm making you some medicine," she answered, unperturbed. "Almost as good as bacta." She looked at him at last with a faint smile. "Do you think I will change my mind, Qui-Gon? If so, you don't know me."

  "Ah," he said. "But I feel that I do."

  The rumble of thunder suddenly rolled through the still air. The dome rattled with the power of it.

  "Another storm," Qui-Gon said.

  She grinned. "You'll make it."

  The thunder rumbled again. Qui-Gon sat up straighter. When he looked at Elan, he saw that her smile had faded.

  "That is not thunder," Elan said.

  "Tanks," Qui-Gon replied.

  When they ran from the dome, Dana was racing for them. "We're under attack," he said breathlessly. "It's the royal guard! I saw the insignia."

  The rumble of tanks made the ground shake. Qui-Gon saw them approaching across a wide plain. The tanks were hampered by the deep snow, but they would make it.

  The hill people didn't have much time.

  "We've got to divert them from the camp," Elan cried.

  A shadow fell over the snow. Qui-Gon looked up. A massive royal guard transport ship banked over the camp. It landed in a snow-covered meadow near the moving tanks. Ramps slid down around the transport. More tanks rolled down.

  "Proton tanks," Qui-Gon said. "The troops are inside. They won't risk exposure if they don't have to."

  "The camp will be leveled," Dana said.

  Elan bit her lip, thinking. "The wind came from the northeast during the storm, right, Dana?"

  "Yes, but…"

  "Get everyone to the swoops," Elan ordered crisply. "Have Nuni take all the children and elders to the safe shelter. And send Viva to gather my medicines.

  We… we could need them later. Quickly!"

  Dana nodded and ran off. Elan turned to Qui-Gon. He admired her coolness in the face of such odds.

  "And you, Qui-Gon," she said. "I will need every swoop for battle. I can't loan you one now. But you can escape down the back of the mountain that way." She pointed to a narrow trail that snaked past the domes.

  "I'll take that swoop you promised me," Qui-Gon answered.

  "But I can't-"

  He activated his lightsaber and held the glowing green light front of her. "I will not leave your people unprotected," he said.

  The hill people were ready to go — everyone over the age of ten and under the age of eighty sat astride swoops, Qui-Gon guessed.

  Elan swung a leg over her swoop. Qui-Gon did the same.

  "Here's the plan," she told the others. "First, we buzz the tanks. Make them angry. Keep out of cannon range. Remember the zoomball game?"

  Everyone nodded. She grinned at them, meeting as many eyes as she could. "Make the tanks the goalposts. Fly as though you're up against the best zoomball players in the galaxy. We're going to try to drive them away from the camp. Then when they're good and mad, we'll head to Moonstruck Pass. "

  "Moonstruck Pass?" Dana asked. "But-"

  Elan grinned. "Exactly."

  Qui-Gon didn't have time to ask what they meant. Elan gunned her engines and took off. Within seconds she was just a dot in the distance. The others followed.

  Qui-Gon had driven speeders of various kinds and all sorts of flying vehicles.

  This was his first experience on a swoop. The engine controls, as well as the steering, were on the handlebars. He gunned the engine as Elan had, picked up speed, then corrected his direction slightly by turning the right handlebar.

  Immediately, the swoop flipped and headed for a tree.

  "Lean away from the turn!" someone yelled to his left, and Qui-Gon leaned, holding on for dear life. Once he felt the swoop was under control again, he tried a more cautious correction. This time he was able to stay with the others, or at least keep them in sight.

  Soon, Qui-Gon had a feel for the machine. It was more responsive than he was used to, but it was agile. Before coming in range of the ion cannons, he practiced diving and soaring and sharp turns, hanging in midair and then turning. Then he picked up speed to join the others, who were almost in range of the tanks.

  Elan turned as he rode up next to her. "About time," she said. Her grin was fr
iendly, as though they were out for a pleasure ride. "Think you can handle that machine?"

  "I'll do my best," Qui-Gon answered, just as cannon fire ripped into a tree to his left.

  "You'll need to," Elan answered. She turned her handlebars sharply to the right, avoiding another blast from the cannon.

  The swoops spread out in formation, dived, and zoomed upward again. They charged forward to the tanks, then retreated. Soon, Qui-Gon caught the rhythm.

  He understood why Elan had likened it to a game. The tanks were clumsy compared to the small, agile swoops. They were able to fly up high, then zoom downward into the mouths of the cannons, then turn away before the royal guard had a chance to fire.

  Elan and Dana led one tank on a chase, losing it in some undergrowth. Qui-Gon heard a tremendous crash, and a cheer went up among the hill people. The tank had fallen nose-first into a ravine.

  "Moonstruck Pass!" Elan called. She reversed her engines, hovering in midair as another cannon blast missed her by a hair. Then she zoomed down, heading down the mountain but constantly zigzagging from right to left, up and down. Qui-Gon followed the dizzying trail.

  The tanks found it hard to keep up. Qui-Gon imagined that they had thought the battle would be simple. They would train their massive guns on the camp, destroy it, then capture the survivors. They did not expect the hill people to lead them on a chase down a mountain. If they were smart, they wouldn't follow. But the royal forces were rusty. They hadn't fought a tactical battle in generations.

  Most of their job had been putting down minor insurrections in the cities. They were long on strength and short on tactics.

  But Qui-Gon knew better than to underestimate those tanks. Once they caught Elan and the hill people, their firepower would eventually win the day. How could bowcasters and a few blasters — and one lightsaber — hold out against such weaponry?

  Qui-Gon stayed at the rear of the swoops, trying to draw ion cannon fire from the speeding tanks. He had no idea where he was heading. The mountains on either side began to close in. He began to worry. Soon, the swoops would be unable to maneuver freely, and that was their only tactical advantage.

  Sunlight hit the snow ahead, blinding him. Suddenly, the swoops in front of him slowed down. Qui-Gon quickly scaled back, drifting uncomfortably close to the tank at his rear. The Force surged around him, warning him, and he swung to his left. Cannon fire missed him by inches. He felt the hot breath of it sear his back.

  Qui-Gon zoomed forward to catch up to the other swoops. The sun was so bright on the snow that he could hardly see. He used the Force to guide him. He realized that the trail he was following narrowed even further, the canyon ahead curved back in on itself from above, forming a kind of bowl. They would surely be trapped there, he thought. Had Elan lost her way? Or did she have a plan in mind? He just wished he knew what it was.

  He caught up to the other swoops, who were now hovering high above the pass into the canyon. Qui-Gon joined them. When the tanks arrived, the swoops would be cut to pieces.

  Jedi are ready to meet death at any moment. But did Elan have to invite it?

  The tanks roared ahead, picking up speed as the royal guard realized they were about to trap the hill people. Ion cannons boomed now, more in triumph than according to plan. The tanks rolled into the canyon. The first maneuvered to fire on the hovering swoops…

  And it suddenly sank into an enormous drift. Snow and ice caved in over the top. The second tank crashed through a skin of ice and was swallowed up. It was too late for the others to retreat. One by one, they crashed through the top of the ice-crusted snow and were swallowed up as well. In just moments, the tanks had completely disappeared.

  Elan zoomed up next to Qui-Gon. The cold wind had turned her cheeks pink. Her navy eyes sparkled.

  "I don't think you'll be needing that lightsaber, Jedi," she said.

  Elan had known that with a northeast wind, the canyon would acquire drifts hundreds of meters deep. The lack of morning sunlight would cause ice to form a crust on the top. She had gambled that the tanks would roll in, anxious to capture the hill people.

  Her gamble had paid off. The hill people had won the battle without one casualty. They could have left the royal guard buried alive in the snow. Qui-Gon could not have prevented it. He could not have dug the tanks out himself. But to his surprise, Elan organized a rescue operation. Using snow-borers that hovered only inches above the surface, the hill people dug tunnels into the snow, deep below to the tank entrances. They led the surprised and grateful battle soldiers to the surface, where they were flown back to the camp on swoops.

  They were housed in the largest dome and brought blankets. Guards were posted at the dome door, but none of the soldiers wanted to escape. They were grateful for the warm shelter. Bandages and ointments were given to those who needed them. The crash into the snow had bruised a few. One soldier had sprained his wrist. The tank that had slid over into the ravine produced one woman warrior with a bruised temple. That was the extent of the injuries.

  Qui-Gon tried to raise Obi-Wan on the com-link. He needed to find out what was going on at the palace. Who had ordered the attack? Prince Beju? Qui-Gon knew one thing: Desperation had fueled the attack. That meant the situation could be volatile back at the capital.

  Obi-Wan didn't answer. Qui-Gon pushed his worry away for the moment. He headed to Elan's dome.

  "Now I have a problem," Elan grumbled when Qui-Gon entered. She was busy tending to an elder who had been grazed by a branch as he flew on his swoop.

  "What am I going to do with all of them? I can't set them loose in the mountains. Maybe you could lead them back."

  She dabbed ointment on the elder's forehead, then gently bandaged it. "You should have gone with the rest of the elders, Domi," she scolded.

  "I'm too young to be an elder," Domi said.

  Elan sighed as she rinsed her hands. "Now we have to feed them all. We're going to be out of supplies in a week."

  Still grumbling, Elan headed off. Domi grinned at Qui-Gon.

  "She's got a soft heart, our Elan," Domi said.

  "And a tough bite," Qui-Gon said.

  Domi laughed. "True." He touched his bandage gingerly. "She has healing hands, like her father."

  "You knew her father?" Qui-Gon asked curiously.

  "Rowi's memory is still cherished by our people," Domi answered. "He knew every herb in the mountains. He passed on his potions to Elan. And her mother Tema was known for her spirit. She was one of the few to leave us. She was restless, wanted to see the world outside. But she returned. Hill people always return."

  Domi slid off the stool.

  "Where did Tema go?" Qui-Gon asked.

  "To Galu, where they all go," Domi answered. "And they all return. Tema was an artisan, and she heard the palace needed workers. She wanted to see life outside the hills. She never spoke of what she found there. I never had an inclination to go, myself. I would miss the mountains."

  Smiling, Domi headed out. Qui-Gon frowned. So Elan had lied to him. Her mother had traveled to Galu, after all. And she had worked at the palace. Elan must be afraid, he realized. He had shattered her world, her belief in where she came from. She might push his words away. But she would not be able to forget them.

  Elan had been to the kitchen dome, but had already left when he arrived. Food preparation was under control. Qui-Gon headed to the dome where the prisoners were kept, hoping to find her there. He nodded at the posted guard and went in.

  The soldiers had gathered in small groups, talking quietly. Elan wasn't present.

  Qui-Gon saw an officer sitting alone by the heating unit. His tunic was stained, and his hand was bandaged. He stared dully at the glowing bars of the heating unit.

  Qui-Gon sat next to him. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly. "Do you need a medic?"

  "He said they were barbarians," the officer said numbly. "He said they killed for sport and would attack the city next. Instead, they rescued us from suffocation and starvation. He
said they must be annihilated to save Galu. He said they had no mercy. Instead, they gave us blankets."

  "Who said this?" Qui-Gon asked. "Prince Beju?"

  "Take orders from that pup?" The officer shook his head. "It is Giba who gives us the orders. And he deceived us."

  Qui-Gon had to talk to Obi-Wan. Giba had to be stopped. If he was willing to destroy the hill people to kill Elan, he was no doubt engineering some sort of takeover of the government. Once again, Obi-Wan did not answer his call. Now Qui-Gon was truly worried. Something was wrong. His Padawan knew the importance of keeping in touch.