Star Wars: Episode I: The Phantom Menace

by Terry Brooks

  Once inside, they found themselves on a platform that led down to a square surrounded by buildings. Light emanated from the bubble’s walls in a steady glow, brightening the space inside. The Jedi found the air breathable. As they descended to the square below, water dripping from their clothing, Gungans began to catch sight of them and to scatter with small cries of alarm.

  In short order a squad of uniformed Gungan soldiers appeared, riding two-legged mounts with billed faces not entirely dissimilar to their own. Kaadu, Qui-Gon recalled—swamp runners with powerful legs, great endurance, and keen senses. The Gungans carried long, deadly-looking electropoles, which they used to motion back the distraught populace at the same time they advanced on the intruders.

  “Heyday ho, Cap’n Tarpals,” Jar Jar greeted the leader of the squad cheerfully. “Me back!”

  “Notta gain, Jar Jar Binks!” the other snapped, clearly irritated. “Yous goen ta Boss Nass. See what he say. Yous mebbe in big trubble dis time.”

  Ignoring the Jedi, he gave Jar Jar a quick poke with his electropole, sending a shock through the hapless Gungan that lifted him a half meter off the ground. Jar Jar rubbed his backside ruefully, muttering.

  The Gungan soldiers took them through the buildings of the city, down several connecting passages, and into what, Jar Jar whispered to his companions, was the High Tower Boardroom. The room was transparent on all sides, and small glowing fish swam about the outside of the membrane, tiny stars against a darker backdrop. A long, circular bench dominated one end of the room with one section set higher than the rest. All the seats were occupied by Gungan officials in their robes of office, and a way was quickly made for the newcomers through Gungans already present to conduct other business.

  The Gungan occupying the highest seat was a heavy-set, squat fellow so compressed by age and weight that it was impossible to imagine he had ever been as slender as Jar Jar Binks. Folds of skin draped from his body in loose layers, his neck was compressed into his shoulders, and his face bore such a sour look that even Jar Jar seemed more than a little cowed as they were motioned forward.

  The Gungan officials stared, muttering among themselves as the Jedi approached. “What yous want, outlanders?” Boss Nass rumbled at them, after identifying himself.

  Qui-Gon Jinn told him, relating what had brought the Jedi to Naboo, warning of the invasion taking place above, asking the Gungans to give them help. The Gungan council listened patiently, saying nothing until Qui-Gon was finished.

  Boss Nass shook his head, the flesh of his thick neck jiggling with the movement. “Yous can’t be here. Dis army of maccaneks up dere tis not our problem.”

  Qui-Gon held his ground. “That army of battle droids is about to attack the Naboo. We must warn them.”

  “We no like da Naboo!” Boss Nass growled irritably. “And dey no like da Gungans. Da Naboo think dey more smart den us. Dey think dey brains so big. Dey have nutten ta do wit us cause we live in da swamp and dey live up dere. Long time no have nutten ta do wit each other. Dis not gonna change because of maccaneks.”

  “After that army takes control of the Naboo, they will come here and take control of you,” Obi-Wan said quietly.

  Boss Nass chuckled. “No, me think not. Me talk mebbe one, two times wit Naboo in whole life, and no talk ever wit maccaneks. Maccaneks no come here! Dey not even know Gungans exist!”

  The remaining members of the council nodded in agreement, muttering their verbal approval of Boss Nass’s wisdom.

  “You and the Naboo are connected,” Obi-Wan insisted, his youthful face intent, not ready to concede the matter. “What happens to one will affect the other. You must understand this.”

  Boss Nass dismissed him with a wave of one thick hand. “We know nutten of yous, outlander, and we no care about da Naboo.”

  Before Obi-Wan could continue his argument, Qui-Gon stepped forward. “Then speed us on our way,” he demanded, bringing up one hand in a casual motion, passing it smoothly before the Gungan chief’s eyes in a quick invocation of Jedi mind power.

  Boss Nass stared at him, then nodded. “We speed yous far away.”

  Qui-Gon held his gaze. “We need transport to Theed.”

  “Okeday.” Boss Nass nodded some more. “We give yous bongo. Da speedest way tada Naboo is goen through da core. Yous go now.”

  Qui-Gon stepped back. “Thank you for your help. We go in peace.”

  As the Jedi turned to leave, Obi-Wan whispered, “Master, what is a bongo?”

  Qui-Gon glanced at him and cocked one eyebrow thoughtfully. “A ship of some sort, I hope.”

  They were moving away from Boss Nass and the other Gungan officials when they caught sight of Jar Jar Binks standing forlornly to one side, wearing wrist binders and awaiting his fate. Qui-Gon slowed and made eye contact with the unfortunate creature.

  “Master,” Obi-Wan said softly in warning. He knew Qui-Gon too well not to see what was coming.

  The tall Jedi moved over to Jar Jar and stood looking at him.

  “Dey setten yous up for bad fall!” the Gungan declared sullenly, glancing around to see if anyone else might be listening. “Goen through da core is bad danger.”

  Qui-Gon nodded. “Thank you, my friend.”

  Jar Jar Binks shrugged and looked sad. “Ahhh, tis okay.” Then he gave the Jedi Master a slow, sheepish grin and a hopeful look. “Hey, any hep here would be hot.”

  Qui-Gon hesitated.

  “We are short of time, Master,” Obi-Wan advised quietly, moving to his side.

  The Jedi Master turned to face his protégé, eyes distant. “Time spent here may help us later. Jar Jar might be of some use.”

  Obi-Wan shook his head in frustration. His mentor was too eager to involve himself when it was not necessary. He was too quick to adopt causes that were not his own. It had cost him time and time again with the Jedi Council. One day it would be his undoing.

  He bent close. “I sense a loss of focus.”

  Qui-Gon’s eyes fixed on him. “Be mindful, young Obi-Wan,” he chastised gently. “Your sensitivity to the living Force is not your strength.”

  The younger Jedi held his gaze only a moment, then looked away, stung by the criticism. Qui-Gon turned from him and walked back to Boss Nass. “What is to become of Jar Jar Binks?” he asked.

  Boss Nass, who was engaged in conversation with another of the Gungan officials, turned to him in annoyance, his heavy jowls puffing. “Binks breaks nocome-back law. Breaks exile. He be punished.”

  “Not too severely, I trust?” the Jedi Master pressed. “He has been of great help to us.”

  A slow laugh rumbled out of Boss Nass. “Pounded unto death, dis one.”

  Somewhere in the background, Jar Jar Binks moaned loudly. There were mutterings about the room. Even Obi-Wan, who was back at his Master’s side, looked shocked.

  Qui-Gon was thinking fast. “We need a navigator to get us through the core to Theed. I saved Jar Jar’s life on the surface. He owes me for that. I claim a life debt on him.”

  Boss Nass stared at the Jedi in silence, a deep frown furrowing his brow and twisting his mouth. His head seemed to sink deeper into his shoulders, into the wattles of skin that obscured his neck.

  Then his small eyes sought the unfortunate Jar Jar, and he gestured. “Binks?”

  Jar Jar moved forward obediently to stand beside the Jedi.

  “Yous haf life debt wit dis outlander?” Boss Nass demanded darkly.

  Jar Jar nodded, head and ears hanging, but a flicker of hope springing into his eyes.

  “Your gods demand he satisfy that debt,” Qui-Gon insisted, passing his hand in front of Boss Nass’s eyes, invoking his Jedi power once more. “His life belongs to me now.”

  The head Gungan considered the matter only a moment before nodding in agreement. “His life tis yous. Worthless, anywhat. Beggone wit him.”

  A guard came forward and removed Jar Jar’s wrist binders.

  “Come, Jar Jar,” Qui-Gon Jinn advised, turning him away
.

  “Through da core?” Jar Jar gasped, realizing suddenly what had happened. “Count me outta dis! Better dead here den dead in da core! Me not go …”

  But by then the Jedi were dragging him out of the room and all sight and sound of Boss Nass.

  On the bridge of the Trade Federation’s lead battleship, Nute Gunray and Rune Haako stood alone before a hologram of Darth Sidious. Neither of the Neimoidians was looking at the other, and both were hoping the Sith Lord could not sense what they were thinking.

  “The invasion is on schedule, my lord,” the viceroy was saying, robes and headdress hiding the occasional twitching of his limbs as he faced the cloaked and hooded form before him. “Our army nears Theed.”

  “Good. Very good.” Darth Sidious spoke in a soft, calm voice. “I have the Senate bogged down in procedures. By the time this incident comes up for a vote, they will have no choice but to accept that your blockade has been successful.”

  Nute Gunray glanced quickly at his compatriot. “The Queen has great faith that the Senate will side with her.”

  “Queen Amidala is young and naive. You will find controlling her will not be difficult.” The hologram shimmered. “You have done well, Viceroy.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” the other acknowledged as the hologram faded away.

  In the ensuing silence, the Neimoidians turned to each other with knowing looks. “You didn’t tell him,” Rune Haako said accusingly.

  “Of the missing Jedi?” Nute Gunray made a dismissive gesture. “No need to tell him that. No need to tell him anything until we know for certain what has happened.”

  Rune Haako studied him a long time before turning away. “No, no need,” he said softly, and walked from the room.

  Obi-Wan Kenobi sat hunched over the controls of the bongo, familiarizing himself with their functions as Jar Jar Binks, positioned next to him, rambled on and on about nothing. Qui-Gon sat in the shadows behind them, silent and watchful.

  “Dis is nutsen!” Jar Jar moaned as the bongo motored steadily away from the shimmering lighted bubbles of Otoh Gunga and deeper into the waters of Naboo.

  The bongo was an ungainly little underwater craft that consisted mostly of an electrical power plant, guidance system, and passenger seating. It looked somewhat like a species of squid, having flat, swept-back fins and aft tentacles that rotated to propel the craft. Three bubble-canopied passenger compartments were arranged symmetrically, one on each wing and the third forward on the nose.

  The Jedi and the Gungan occupied the nose compartment, where Obi-Wan had assumed command of the controls and Jar Jar had been instructed to start directing them through the core. It seemed that there were underwater passageways all through the planet, and if you were able to locate the right one, you could cut travel time considerably.

  Or in the alternative, Obi-Wan thought darkly, you could cut your own throat.

  “We doomed,” Jar Jar muttered plaintively. His flat-billed face lifted away from the directional guidance system toward the Jedi, his long ears swaying like ridiculous flaps. “Heydey ho? Where we goen, Cap’n Quiggon?”

  “You’re the navigator,” Qui-Gon observed.

  Jar Jar shook his head. “Me? Yous dreaming. Don’t know nutten ‘bout dis, me.”

  Qui-Gon placed a hand on the Gungan’s shoulder. “Just relax, my friend. The Force will guide us.”

  “Da Force? What tis da Force?” Jar Jar did not look impressed. “Maxibig thing, dis Force, yous betcha. Gonna save me, yous, all us, huh?”

  Obi-Wan closed his eyes in dismay. This was a disaster waiting to happen. But it was Qui-Gon’s disaster to manage. It was not his place to interfere. Qui-Gon had made the decision to bring Jar Jar Binks along, after all. Not because he was a skilled navigator or had displayed even the slightest evidence of talent in any other regard, but because he was another project that Qui-Gon, with his persistent disregard for the dictates of the Council, had determined had value and could be reclaimed.

  It was a preoccupation that both mystified and frustrated Obi-Wan. His mentor was perhaps the greatest Jedi alive, a commanding presence at Council, a strong and brave warrior who refused to be intimidated by even the most daunting challenge, and a good and kind man. Maybe it was the latter that had gotten him into so much trouble. He repeatedly defied the Council in matters that Obi-Wan thought barely worthy of championing. He was possessed of his own peculiar vision of a Jedi’s purpose, of the nature of his service, and of the causes he should undertake, and he followed that vision with unwavering single-mindedness.

  Obi-Wan was young and impatient, headstrong and not yet at one with the Force in the way that Qui-Gon was, but he understood better, he thought, the dangers of overreaching, of taking on too many tasks. Qui-Gon would dare anything when he found a challenge that interested him, even if he risked himself in the undertaking.

  So it was here. Jar Jar Binks was a risk of the greatest magnitude, and there was no reason to think that embracing such a risk would reap even the smallest reward.

  The Gungan muttered some more, all the while casting about through the viewport as if seeking a road sign that would allow him to at least pretend he knew what he was doing. Obi-Wan gritted his teeth. Stay out of it, he told himself sternly. Stay out of it.

  “Here, take over,” he snapped at Jar Jar.

  He moved out of his seat to kneel close to Qui-Gon. “Master,” he said, unable to help himself, “why do you keep dragging these pathetic life-forms along with us when they are of so little use?”

  Qui-Gon Jinn smiled faintly. “He seems that way now perhaps, but you must look deeper, Obi-Wan.”

  “I’ve looked deep enough, and there is nothing to see!” Obi-Wan flushed with irritation. “He is an un-needed distraction!”

  “Maybe for the moment. But that may change with time.” Obi-Wan started to say something more, but the Jedi Master cut him short. “Listen to me, my young Padawan. There are secrets hidden in the Force that are not easily discovered. The Force is vast and pervasive, and all living things are a part of it. It is not always apparent what their purpose is, however. Sometimes that purpose must be sensed first in order that it may be revealed later.”

  Obi-Wan’s young face clouded. “Some secrets are best left concealed, Master.” He shook his head. “Besides, why must you always be the one to do the uncovering? You know how the Council feels about these … detours. Perhaps, just once, the uncovering should be left to someone else.”

  Qui-Gon looked suddenly sad. “No, Obi-Wan. Secrets must be exposed when found. Detours must be taken when encountered. And if you are the one who stands at the crossroads or the place of concealment, you must never leave it to another to act in your place.”

  The last of the lights from Otoh Gunga disappeared in a wash of murkiness, and the waters closed around them in a dark cloud. Jar Jar Binks was taking the craft ahead at a slow, steady speed, no longer muttering or squirming, his hands fixed on the controls. He flipped on the lights as darkness closed about, and the broad yellow beams revealed vast stretches of multicolored coral weaving and twisting away through the black.

  “I respect your judgment in this, Master,” Obi Wan said finally. “But it doesn’t stop me from worrying.”

  Like all of the Jedi Knights, Obi-Wan Kenobi had been identified and claimed early in his life from his birth parents. He no longer remembered anything of them now; the Jedi Knights had become his family. Of those, he was closest to Qui-Gon, his mentor for more than a dozen years, who had become his most trusted friend.

  Qui-Gon understood his attachment and shared it. Obi-Wan was the son he would never have. He was the future he would leave behind when he died. His hopes for Obi-Wan were enormous, but he did not always share his student’s beliefs.

  “Be patient with me, Obi-Wan,” he replied softly. “A little faith sometimes goes a long way.”

  The bongo navigated a coral tunnel, the bridge work revealed in deep fissures of crimson and mauve in the glow of the little craft’
s lights. All about, brightly colored fish swam in schools through the craggy rock.

  “Are the Gungans and the Naboo at war with each other?” Qui-Gon asked Jar Jar thoughtfully.

  The Gungan shook his head. “No war. Naboo and Gungans don’t fight. Long time ago, mebbe. Now, Naboo keep outta swamp, Gungans keep outta plains. Dey don’t even see each other.”

  “But they don’t like each other?” the Jedi Master pressed.

  Jar Jar snorted. “Da Naboo gotta big heads, alla time think dey so much better den da Gungans! Big nuttens!”

  Obi-Wan bent over Jar Jar Binks, his eyes directed out the viewport. “Why were you banished, Jar Jar?” he asked.

  The Gungan made a series of small smacking sounds with his billed lips. “Tis kinda long story, but keeping dis short, me … oh, oh, ahhh … kinda clumsy.”

  “You were banished because you’re clumsy?” Obi-Wan exclaimed in disbelief.

  The bongo turned down through an open stretch of water between two huge coral shelves. Neither the Jedi nor the Gungan saw the dark shape that detached itself from the larger outcropping and began to track them.

  Jar Jar squirmed. “Me cause mebbe one or two little bitty axaudents. Boom da gasser, crash der Bosses’ hey-blibber. Den dey banish me.”

  Obi-Wan was not entirely sure what Jar Jar was telling him. But before he could ask for clarification, there was a loud thump as something struck the bongo, causing it to lurch sharply to one side. A huge crustacean with multiple legs and massive jaws ringed with teeth had hooked them with its long tongue and was drawing them steadily toward its widespread maw.

  “Opee sea killer!” Jar Jar cried in dismay. “We doomed!”

  “Full speed ahead, Jar Jar!” Qui-Gon ordered quickly, watching the jaws open behind them.

  But instead of pushing the throttles forward, Jar Jar panicked and jammed them into reverse, causing the little ship to fly directly into the mouth of their attacker. The bongo slammed into the back of the monster’s throat with a heavy thump that sent the Jedi reeling over the seats and into the walls. Rows of jagged teeth began to close about them as the lights on the control panel flickered uncertainly.