by Jude Watson
Qui-Gon understood that after having been at the mercy of Vorzyd 4
for some time, Vorzyd 5 might harbor resentment. But taking action against
a neighboring planet seemed rash, especially if Vorzyd 5 was prospering in
its own right.
"We must stop Vorzyd 5," Chairman Port said, not acknowledging Qui-
Gon's inquiries. "You will contact them?"
Qui-Gon was about to reply when the chairman stood. He was obviously
anxious for the meeting to be over. "To work then?" he said.
Qui-Gon remained seated. He had many more questions and a strong
feeling that all was not as it seemed. "Before we contact Vorzyd 5, I would
like to inspect the sabotage sites. One should never be hasty in making
accusations."
Chairman Port seemed to hover over Qui-Gon, but he didn't say
anything.
Qui-Gon continued. "I would also like to spend at least one night
here on Vorzyd 4, to get an idea of how you live... when you're not
working."
Chairman Port's antennae moved so furiously they looked as if they
would tie themselves in knots. "Not working?" he asked, puzzled. "We eat.
We sleep. Nothing more."
The chairman was clearly frustrated with the Jedi's thought process.
He wanted immediate action. "I will take you to the homespace when the
workday is - "
Chairman Port was cut off when a laborer rushed into the room.
"Vorzyd 5!" she said. "Another attack!" Her high-pitched voice revealed her
distress. "Productivity status monitors are registering erroneous data."
Port rushed from the room and glanced at the nearest datascreen. "Six
days behind schedule on hard goods distribution," he mumbled. "It cannot
be."
Everywhere laborers stood up from their stations and looked around,
bewildered. Qui-Gon noticed that when their eyes rested on the Jedi in
their flowing brown robes, their already vibrating antennae would wave even
more wildly. In this environment even the subdued Jedi dress made them
stick out like pulsating beacons.
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan followed Chairman Port to the turbolift. As they
made their way through the maze, Qui-Gon noted a few of the laborers
rocking back and forth. Others appeared to be physically ill, grasping
their stomachs and leaning on their desks.
As the turbolift doors closed, Qui-Gon heaved a deep sigh. Obviously
the Vorzyd 4's were un‑ able to handle anything outside of their normal
work routine. Only the chairman seemed to maintain relative calm, though he
didn't look particularly well, either.
This was going to be a very interesting mission.
CHAPTER 3
Obi-Wan sat in front of the mainframe computer. He had been there for
almost an hour. The Vorzydiak technician assigned to the station paced
behind him, stopping regularly to peer over Obi-Wan's shoulder.
Occasionally the tech's antennae grazed the back of Obi-Wan's head and neck
and he could be heard mumbling something about Vorzyd 5.
Obi-Wan's Master had gone with Chairman Port to try to calm the
laborers. The threat to the Vorzydiaks' physical and mental health was
equal to their technical difficulties. If the chairman could not get the
laborers to calm down, he would have a health crisis on his hands. Judging
from the stress level Obi-Wan still felt in the building, he did not think
Qui-Gon was having much luck.
Obi-Wan wasn't having much luck, either. The problem with the
computer system was not a simple one. Obi-Wan knew he couldn't clear it up
quickly, but was hoping to learn something about who had started it while
he tried.
Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the anomaly was gone. All of the
computers in the building were back on-line, running as if the bug had
never been there. And there was no trace of what had happened on any of the
machines.
Obi-Wan motioned to the nervous tech, who nodded and spoke into a
comlink on the wall. "Back on-line. Laborers to resume work immediately."
A few of the techs nearby looked at Obi-Wan gratefully as they
settled back into their workstations. They thought he had fixed the
problem.
The rest of the Vorzydiaks busied themselves, relieved to have things
functioning normally once more. Even the very sick Vorzydiaks struggled to
their data stations.
Obi-Wan stayed where he was. He wanted to continue to search the
systems, to see if he could determine what had caused the mysterious
problem and maybe come to understand the Vorzydiaks. But the tech standing
beside him clearly wanted Obi-Wan to move out of his spot.
"To work, then?" the tech asked, agitated.
Obi-Wan stood with a sigh. His curiosity was not reason enough to
cause the Vorzydiak discomfort.
On his way back to the twenty-fourth floor, Obi-Wan considered what
he knew. Unfortunately, it wasn't much. The saboteur had been someone who
knew the computer system as well as or better than the techs who ran it.
But there was definitely no evidence that the Vorzyd 5's had planted the
bug. Obi-Wan suspected that the culprit was an insider - or at least a spy.
Before Obi-Wan could share his suspicions with Qui-Gon and the
chairman, a long, dull tone sounded in the building. The Vorzydiak laborers
groaned in unison, echoing the tone. It was a strange, disappointed sound
that penetrated Obi-Wan's skin. Obi-Wan wasn't sure if the laborers were
frustrated that their workday had been cut short due to the interruption,
or if the sad sound was one they made every day when it was time to leave.
Like the other laborers, Chairman Port seemed to struggle to tear
himself away. At last he stood and motioned for the Jedi to follow him.
Vorzydiaks poured en masse from buildings like slow-moving liquid.
Though they stood very close to one another, they gave Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan
a wide berth, even aboard the packed shuttles they all rode to the
Vorzydiak home-space. Obi-Wan was sorry to see that his presence made the
Vorzydiaks uncomfortable, but was grateful for the space just the same. It
allowed him to look out the transparisteel sides of the shuttle.
As they left the city workspace, Obi-Wan waited for the landscape to
change. He'd assumed that the identical buildings would fall away and
reveal the natural planet landscape, or at least some parks and open
spaces. But he was wrong.
On the outskirts of the city the workspace turned to homespace. But
if Chairman Port had not announced that they were in Vorzydiak homespace,
Obi-Wan would not have known. The homespace buildings were slightly smaller
and stationed around hubs where automated shuttles and airbusses picked up
and dropped off passengers. Otherwise it looked exactly like the workspace.
There were no yards. No pads for private vehicles. No Vorzydiaks
relaxing outside.
In light of this, the Jedi were not surprised to see that the
chairman's home, like his workstation and dress, did not differ from the
rest of the population's. He lived on a single floor of one of the high-
rises.
"My wife, Bryn," the chairman said, introducing them to a slight
Vorzydiak wearing a blandly colored jumpsuit. "The Jedi, Qui-Gon Jinn and
Obi-Wan Kenobi," Port gestured.
Bryn's antennae fidgeted as she looked the Jedi over.
"We appreciate your hospitality." Qui-Gon offered a hand. "Chairman
Port has kindly invited us to share a meal in your home."
Bryn nodded again but did not take Qui-Gon's hand. Instead she turned
toward the galley. After pressing a few buttons, she placed two more
settings at the table that was already set for two.
"Grath will not be eating," she said. Chairman Port nodded.
"Will he be home later?" Obi-Wan asked. He was anxious to meet the
Ports' fifteen-year-old son. Vorzyd 4 seemed so... boring. He couldn't
imagine what life must be like for the teenagers on the planet, and was
hoping that they would be easier to talk to than the Vorzydiaks he'd
already met.
"After mealtime. He is working," Bryn replied flatly.
While they waited for the meal to be served, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon
looked around the small residence. It was furnished and reasonably
comfortable, but revealed nothing about the inhabitants. It reminded Obi-
Wan of the sterile spaces travelers could rent on Coruscant. With so many
different species coming through, the quarters were designed to be nothing
more than clean and inoffensive.
"Is Grath away from home often in the evenings?" Qui-Gon asked when
they sat down to dine. "It must be disappointing when you cannot share your
last meal of the day together."
Obi-Wan knew that Qui-Gon was also looking for a sign of emotional
connection in the family.
"It is an honor to work," the chairman said tersely.
His wife nodded. "May he be as productive tomorrow as he is today,"
she said.
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan exchanged a look as the table fell silent.
Obi-Wan chewed a particularly tough and flavorless bite of whatever
food was in his bowl. "What do you do in the evenings, to entertain
yourselves?" he asked, still hoping to spark some conversation. Though he
was getting the feeling that the endeavor was useless, he felt he had to
try.
Bryn looked up from her food, a confused expression on her face. "We
read instructuals to better our work," she replied, as if it were obvious.
Suddenly, Obi-Wan wondered if Grath chose to work late to avoid the
evening meal. He found it hard to imagine that the young people on Vorzyd 4
were as work-driven as their parents. In some ways, he thought, it was
similar to life at the Temple. There, children and adults were completely
dedicated to learning the ways of the Force. The path of the Jedi was
fascinating, of course. Far more fascinating than anything Obi-Wan had seen
here. But Obi-Wan had to admit that sometimes, at the Temple, he just
wanted some time off - to take a break.
Looking up from his bowl, Obi-Wan noticed Qui-Gon staring at him. He
felt his face redden. More than once Qui-Gon had seemed able to read his
mind, and he hoped this was not one of those times.
Obi-Wan had felt frustrated lately, yes. But he did not wish to leave
the Jedi path. He had done that once - and it had turned out to be the
biggest mistake of his life. Still, there were times - especially when he
felt he was not progressing - that he wondered where all of this hard work
was leading him.
CHAPTER 4
Chairman Port led the Jedi into a building a short distance from his
house. "This is our retirement complex. My mother lived here after she
retired. Now she is dead. The room is empty," he said. His voice registered
no feeling.
"I'm sorry to hear of your mother's passing," Qui-Gon said gently.
"Was it recent?"
"One month ago," Port replied.
Qui-Gon noticed that Chairman Port's antennae quivered slightly. "It
is difficult to lose a parent."
"Laborers do not last without work," Port replied steadily. But he
stopped outside the retirement complex, as if he were reluctant to go in.
"Second floor. Third door on the right," he said.
Pressing a key pass with access codes into Qui-Gon's hand, he turned
to go. "Tomorrow we will contact Vorzyd 5. Work must go on."
As the door slid shut behind them, Qui-Gon heard a tapping in the
corridor. Door lined halls stretched in all directions, and to the left a
figure struggled toward them using a support. He waved to attract their
attention. It was an elderly Vorzydiak.
"To work," he called in a raspy voice. "Is the shuttle here? To work.
" Obi-Wan started toward the nearly crippled being, but Qui-Gon put a hand
on his shoulder to stop him. The Vorzydiak turned and walked in the other
direction, still rambling. He had not been talking to them. He was raving
to no one in particular, and Qui-Gon knew there was nothing they could do
to help.
Port's mother's room was as gloomy as the rest of the complex. But it
held two sleep couches, and was certainly adequate for the Jedi. Obi-Wan
paced the small space between the couches. Qui-Gon knew he had been waiting
for a chance to speak. A year ago he would have shared his thoughts by now.
But his Padawan was growing older, wiser. He was becoming a Jedi.
"Master, I do not think that Vorzyd 5 is responsible for today's...
mishap," Obi-Wan said. "I do not know who is responsible, but we must not
contact Vorzyd 5 until we have a clearer sense of what is going on."
"Of course." Qui-Gon nodded.
"I feel... I feel that all is not right on Vorzyd 4," Obi-Wan
continued. "There's something more here, there's some sort of... well,
secret."
Qui-Gon nodded again. He had sensed it, too, but had not realized it
until Obi-Wan said it aloud. There was a secret on Vorzyd 4. They would
have to proceed very carefully.
Qui-Gon lay down and breathed deeply. Beside him, Obi-Wan did the
same. It had been a strange day and Qui-Gon looked forward to meditation.
But even after several minutes of trying to relax, the deep calm that
usually filled him did not come.
Instead his mind was filled with images of Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan as a boy
in a practice duel with Jedi student Bruck Chun, letting his anger rather
than his instincts direct him. Then an image of Obi-Wan when he had gone to
help him on Melida/Daan, wounded, humble, and brave enough to face his
mistakes - even if doing so meant never becoming a Jedi. The boy had grown
so much in the last four years. More than getting stronger and taller, he
was learning to trust himself, his instincts, and the Force.
Another image of Obi-Wan flashed in Qui-Gon's mind. An older Obi-Wan,
ready to begin the intensive path toward the trials. Soon he would be more
man than boy. He would take the leap toward becoming a Jedi Knight.
Pride and sadness flooded Qui-Gon as he pictured Jedi Master Obi-Wan
Kenobi. He looked forward to the day that the two of them would work side
by side as Jedi Knights, but with this thought no image came. Qui-Gon's
chest tightened. He was so proud of Obi-Wan's path, of his achievements.
Why couldn't he see him as a Knight? Perhaps I do not want to see the boy
grow up, he thou
ght.
The whir and click of the door forced the thought from Qui-Gon's
mind. His eyes flew open. Immediately he saw that the room was empty. Obi-
Wan was gone.
CHAPTER 5
Obi-Wan moved silently down the hall toward the exit. Unlike his
Master, he had been too restless to meditate. Though he sometimes wished he
had Qui-Gon's ability to calm his mind, he had learned when it was
impossible and to simply accept it. There were times when it was best to
put his energy to more active use.
The corridor in the retirement complex was dim and quiet, and Obi-Wan
was almost through the door when a sound broke the silence. Startled, he
turned on his heels. Was that laughter?
