The Rising Force (12 page)

So Grelb told his cronies, ―Take your time. Have some fun.‖

His Whiphids whimpered in delight. They loved to torment helpless creatures.

They kept up a steady barrage of fire, purposely missing the Jedi with every shot. They hit just close enough to try to terrify the Jedi.

Grelb chortled, ―Look at him squirm, boys! Reminds me of that puffer I ate for dinner last night!‖

But the truth was, the Jedi did not squirm. He didn‘t cringe, or try to scramble away. His pace didn‘t change at all. Slowly, methodically, he climbed the cliff face, even as rock splintered

millimeters from his face.

The Whiphids grew angry. ―Is he blind?‖ one asked in a complaining tone. ―This is no fun at all.‖

Grelb frowned. He did not want the Whiphids to complain. He needed their loyalty. ―How about a bet?‖ he suggested. ―See who can blow off his boot.‖

―Excellent!‖ the first Whiphid cried. ―Bet you five I can knock off his boot in one shot!‖

―In one shot?‖ his companion hooted. And the bet was on.

To sweeten the deal, Grelb bet against the Whiphid at two-to-one odds. Eagerly, he watched the Jedi make his steady progress up the cliff. The two Whiphids who made the bet brought their guns to rest on their shoulders. He waited breathlessly for the first Whiphid to take his shot. Lightning flashed, thunder roared.

There was a blast of wind at Grelb‘s back.

The Jedi had his right foot on a tiny ledge. He reached out for a handhold above. He was precariously balanced. One shot in the foot would probably bring him down.

―Shoot already!‖ Grelb shouted.

Behind him, there was a strange noise. Something like an urp.

Grelb turned to look at the Whiphid marksman, and there standing hugely at Grelb‘s back was a draigon. It had landed so silently, he had not heard it.

It was the first he‘d seen up close. The draigon had tiny silver

scales over all of its body, and huge yellow eyes like those on a fish.

It had no front legs, only a single huge claw on each wing. And its mouth had the strangest teeth – like enormous needles that arced down from its gums. The monster vaguely reminded him of an Ithorian razor shark.

The huge reptile had half of the Whiphid marksman in its mouth.

―Aaagh!‖ Grelb screamed as he slithered towards the nearest

crevice.

The Whiphids all turned and began to fire at the draigon.

Qui-Gon pulled himself up the last three meters, then wedged himself into the small cave. There, he paused, panting for a long moment, clutching his sore right arm. The acrid scent of sulfur and ammonia assaulted him. He peered farther inside the cave. The dactyl crystals had been thrown on the smooth floor of the cave, and were giving off a dull yellowish glow.

Th blaster fire was coming fast as ever. The guns made a steady boom boom boom.

But the shots were no longer directed at him. Instead, the Whiphids had hidden in the rocks, firing at draigons. The blaster fire attracted them by the score, and draigons roared in the sky, flocking down from the cliffs. Several of the huge beasts had collasped around the Whiphids, but others were wheeling from the skies in a feeding frenzy.

Qui-Gon looked down from the cliff, watching the struggle. He had traveled all morning without attracting the attention of a draigon. Now, by shooting their blasters, the stupid Whiphids were drawing them in droves.

Draigons screamed, a great shrieking cry, and dove out of the

clouds on leathery silver wings. They soared over the stones and swiveled their heads. Teeth gleamed under the strobe of lightning flashes.

The Whiphids scattered and tried to hide beneath huge slabs of stone. One Whiphid roared in terror as a draigon dropped from the sky and plucked it from its hiding place.

Qui-Gon used the diversion to load the dactyl into the cloth sack he had brought. For several moments the Whiphids fought and screamed and died as dozens and dozens of the huge draigons plummeted toward them.

Suddenly, a great shadow blocked the light to the cave. A draigon shrieked, a cry so piercing tht the rock around qui-Gon trembled. He pressed himself against the side of the cave.

Outside the mouth of the fissure, the draigon clutched the rock

with its wing talons. It let out the piercing cry again, and Qui-Gon knew it was no use.

He had been seen.

As draigon hurtled from the skies, Grelb slithered quietly away. The huge hairy Whiphids danced among the rocks, shooting their

blasters and bellowing war cries. They made quite a diversion.

Fortunately for Grelb, young Hutts – like certain kinds of worms and slugs – are adept at squeezing through tight holes and wedging themselves between rocks.

Thus Grelb moved quickly away from the huge Whiphids, and let them battle the draigons alone.

He was half-way down the mountain when he finally dared to stick his head up enough to gaze off toward the vast ocean. Even then, he held his heavy blaster rifle close to his chest. The tide had indeed risen and now lapped against the hull of the Monument. But it looked as if Jemba

had fled the ship in vain. It would not be swamped today. Grelb felt relieved to know that he might still make it off this rock alive.

Behind him, on the mountain, the Whiphids were issuing fewer war cries, and had quit firing their blasters. Grelb should have shivered in terror to think what had happened to them.

The draigon‘s shriek had alerted others from the flock. They vied for position as the first draigon wedged its long silver head into the cave opening.

Lightning streaked through the sky behind it. Teeth longer than knives flashed near Qui-Gon‘s face, and he could smell the scent of dead fish on the draigon‘s breath.

Suddenly, in the middle of his desperation, Qui-Gon felt something odd – a faint ripple in the Force. As he concentrated, it grew stronger. Someone was calling him, a Jedi.

Obi-Wan needs me! He realized.

Astonished, he pressed himself farther back in the cave. He needed to be calm, to think. The boy shouldn‘t have been able to call him. Obi- Wan was not his Padawan. They were not connected.

But he had no time to wonder about the call‘s meaning. It was urgent and must be obeyed. Hearing movement, Qui-Gon quickly glanced toward the cave opening.

For a moment the draigon beat its wings against the stones, blocking Qui-Gon‘s escape. Then suddenly it dropped from its clumsy perch.

Long had Qui-Gon followed the ways of the Force. Now he felt it beckon him.

Run, it commanded. Go to Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon‘s heart pounded. He ran three steps and leaped from the mouth of the cave, knowing that two hundred meters below, the sharp rocks stuck up like swords. Yet he trusted the Force.

He did not fall even a dozen meters. His leap carried him straight to a draigon!

He hit the beast‘s neck with a thud. The creature was wet and slimy. Qui-Gon almost slipped off, but clung to its scaly hide with the tips of his fingers.

The sore muscles in his shoulder throbbed and burned. He managed to swing his legs up and over, so that he was riding squarely on the

draigon‘s back.

The creature roared in terror. It had been flying up to eat the Jedi. Now it shook its neck, trying to throw him off. It shrieked again and again, then wheeled in panic and flapped its wings, dropping toward the sea.

Qui-Gon clutched his precious bag of dactyl in one hand and leaned close to the draigon‘s neck. Using all og the power that he could muster, he whispered to the draigon.. ―Friend help me. Take me to the caves. Hurry!‖

The draigons that were hunting Whiphids heard the desperate shriek of Qui-Gon‘s mount. They looked up and saw the man on its back. Now the draigons rose in a flock to give chase.

His mount flapped its wings and sped toward the caves. Qui-Gon wasn‘t sure he could control the beast for long, for its small mind was cruel, and it was driven by ravenous hunger.

Grelb had been lamenting the death of his Whiphid henchmen when he glanced back toward the mountain. Draigons flocks there by the hundreds.

To his amazement, he saw Qui-Gon Jinn leap from his crevasse onto the back of a hunting draigon. The Jedi wheeled away, down toward the ship.

Grelb‘s jaw dropped, and he dove for cover beneath a rock. There, he sat trembling. The Jedi was alive and heading back down the mountain. That meant only one thing.

Grelb was done for. Jemba would kill him with one blow as soon as he showed his face. Or perhaps he would kill him slowly as a lesson.

He had not clawed his way to a position of power, second only to Jemba, to let a Jedi defeat him. He had worked so hard! All that killing, all that torture of innocents, all that profit, it could not got to

waste.

He would kill the Jedi himself, before Qui-Gon reached the caves and Jemba saw him.

As fast as he could, Grelb slithered among the rocks. Chapter 20

In the caves the Arconans were fading fast. Their bioluminescent eyes were growing dim, like fading embers from a fire.

Nearby, Clat‘Ha and a couple of other Humans helped care of the failing Arconans. The usually fiery woman looked drained, worn out. There was really nothing they could do for the Arconans except make them comfortable.

Si Treemba hadn‘t stirred in hours. He whispered to Obi-Wan that he was saving his strength. Yet Obi-Wan guessed his friend was really too weak to move.

Obi-Wan was desperate. He hated sitting by, unable to help, as his friend slowly died. A dozen times he had thought of running out to find

Qui-Gon. But he resisted the urge. He had to stay by his friend‘s side

and protect him.

Obi-Wan rested his forehead on his knees in despair. He stared at the cave floor. What was the use of all his Jedi training? He had never felt so helpless. Nothing he had learned, nothing even Yoda had told him, could have prepared him for this moment. He had come to the end of

everything – faith, hope, belief in himself. He had failed. All his life,

he would remember this, his darkest moment.

Darkest moment . . .

A memory stirred in Obi-Wan. He remembered a twilight conference with Yoda.

―What is my limit, and how will I know when I find it?‖ Obi-Wan had

asked. ―And if I am pushed to the last, where can I turn for help?‖

That was when Yoda had told him that in moments of extreme danger, when he had done everything he could, he could use the Force to call

another Jedi. ―Close, you must be,‖ Yoda had said. ―Connected.‖

Qui-Gon may not have thought they had a connection. But Obi-Wan had to try.

In the dark cave, he reached out for the Force. He felt it pulse, and he drew in its energy. He reached out with his Jedi senses, tried to

feel the Jedi Master‘s presence. But Obi-Wan was a young man, and could

not control the Force as he wanted. So silently, he simply called: Qui-

Gon! Come back now!

The Arconans will die without the dactyl.

From the mouth of the cavern, there was a great rumbling laugh. Obi-Wan looked up. He had called Qui-Gon with everything he had, but instead, he had roused Jemba the Hutt. So much for his abilities.

Jemba towered above them, his immense bulk filled the mouth of the cavern. ―How are you all feeling? Well, I hope,‖ he taunted. ―Well, in case you‘re not, I have dactyl for sale! Dactyl for the needy. All it

will cost is your lives!

We have some here, and much more hidden elsewhere.‖

All around the cave, Arconans began to moan. Some of them turned over and began to crawl painfully toward the Hutt with his offers of dactyl.

Disgust filled Obi-Wan. He leaped to his feet. ―Stop this!‖ he

shouted.

Before he knew it, his lightsaber was out. He covered fifty meters of ground, leaping over dozens of poor Arconans, until he stood before the monstrous Hutt.

He flashed the lightsaber overhead in a practice swing. The

sluglike Hutt could be seen clearly in its light. A dozen other Hutts and Whiphids filled the tunnel behind him, but Jemba‘s bulk would make it difficult for them to shoot.

―Well, well,‖ Jemba roared. ―I‘m glad to see that you are brave,

even when your Master is not at your back!‖

―Leave, Jemba,‖ Obi-Wan managed to say. He was choking on his anger, and because his voice was changing, it cracked comically.

At his back, Clat‘Ha appeared, blaster drawn. ―He‘s right. You‘re not welcome here.‖

―Very well,‖ Jemba boomed. ―If that‘s what you want, I‘ll gladly leave your friends to die.‖

―Leave them the dactyl!‖ Obi-Wan ordered. He gripped the lightsaber, could feel its heat warming the heavy handle. The blade thrummed in the air, and his every muscle ached to leap forward and begin

slicing. Sweat poured down Obi-Wan‘s face, and he gritted his teeth.

―Isn‘t this amusing!‖ Jemba rumbled to his cohorts. ―He is not a Force used, this one. It‘s in the ship‘s records. He is nothing more than a farmer, a reject from the Jedi Temple.‖

Obi-Wan fought back his rage at Jemba‘s taunt. For long seconds he struggled as he sought within him a place of calm, of peace. Then he remembered Qui-Gon‘s words. Jemba was not the true enemy. Anger was.

At last he found the calm he needed. He reached out with his senses to touch the Force. He felt it now, around him, in Jemba, in the stones, in the Arconans fading so fast behind him. He felt it and gave himself to it.

―Qui-Gon!‖ Obi-Wan shouted in surprise.

He‘d been so focused on calling to the Jedi Master for help that he felt astonished to suddenly feel something else: Qui-Gon was calling to him for help.

―Jemba, get out of my way!‖ Obi-Wan said. ―Qui-Gon is in danger!‖

―Hah! Hah!‖ the great Hutt roared. He slapped his sides as if the laughing pained him. ―Why does that not surprise me? Maybe it‘s because I sent my men to kill him!‖