by Jude Watson
It was obvious that he remembered Qui-Gon. His gaze traveled over him, and Qui-Gon remembered the way Lorian had made everything, even a life-and-death struggle, seem like a huge joke played on all of them. He had been puzzled by that as a Padawan. Now he recognized it as the defense of a man who had lost the only thing that had mattered to him, once long ago, and would never get that pain out of his heart.
"You are surprised to see me," Lorian said. "Junction 5 is my homeworld."
"I am surprised to see you out of prison," Qui-Gon said dryly.
Lorian waved a hand. "Yes, well, I was a model prisoner. I ended up helping the Coruscant security force with a number of problems they were having inside the prison, and they were grateful."
"You mean you were an informer," Qui-Gon said. Lorian cocked his head and smiled at the Jedi. "You haven't forgiven me for what I did to your Master." "Forgiveness is not mine to give," Qui-Gon said. "And how is Master Dooku?" Lorian said.
"I hear he is well," Qui-Gon said. He was not in touch with his old Master. He had not expected to be. Their relationship had not been based on friendship. It had been one of teacher and student. It was natural that they should not be in each other's lives.
It would be different with Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon thought. He saw ahead to the days when Obi-Wan would be a Jedi Knight, and he would like to be part of that.
"I see that you work for the Guardians," Qui-Gon said.
"I am the Guardians," Lorian replied. "The old security force was helpless in the face of the great threat, so I proposed a new force. The leader of Junction 5 asked me to be the head of it."
Qui-Gon was surprised. A former criminal was head of planetary security?
"You see, I am completely rehabilitated. So, what are you doing on Junction 5?" Lorian asked, smoothly changing the subject.
"A stopover," Qui-Gon said.
"And this is your Padawan?"
"Obi-Wan Kenobi, Lorian Nod," Qui-Gon said.
"Did you know I was once a Padawan as well?" Lorian asked Obi-Wan, who shook his head. "I left the Order."
Obi-Wan could not conceal the surprise on his face. Qui-Gon could read him like a datascreen. Someone else had left the Order? So he was not alone. And then the apprehension came as Obi-Wan realized — if I had left, is this what I would have become?
"At first I thought it a terrible punishment, but now I see it was meant to be," Lorian continued. "Well, this has been delightful, but I have duties to perform. Enjoy your journey. I suggest you be on time for your transport. Security here must be very tight, to protect us. If you overstay your pass, there could be some trouble for you."
Qui-Gon knew they were being threatened. "Jedi are used to trouble," he said.
Lorian gave him a keen glance. "I have a brilliant idea. Because of my old ties to the Jedi, I will help you. I'll provide you with escorts to make sure you arrive at the transport on time. The streets of Rion can be confusing to the traveler.
"That is not necessary," Qui-Gon said.
"Now, now, don't thank me," Lorian said firmly. "It is done."
The two security officers followed behind the Jedi as they made their way back to the landing platform.
"Lorian Nod seemed pretty insistent that we leave," Obi-Wan said.
"I never like being shown to the exit," Qui-Gon replied. Obi-Wan caught his meaning and grinned. "Should we lose them?"
"In a minute. Do you notice something. Padawan? Since we arrived, more and more security officers are out on the streets. Somehow I doubt this has anything to do with us."
"Do you think there is an alert?" Obi-Wan asked. Qui-Gon turned to the officers behind them. "Rion is a beautiful city."
"Yes, we are proud of our homeworld," one of them said stiffly.
"The citizens seem happy."
"They know they inhabit the best planet in the galaxy," he said.
"Tell me," Qui-Gon went on pleasantly, "it appears you have much crime in your capital city."
The officer stiffened. "There is no crime in Rion." "Then why do I see so many security officers?" Qui-Gon asked.
"Extraordinary circumstances," he answered, frowning. "There is an Outstanding Threat to Order. An enemy of the state has escaped from prison. Cilia Dil is very dangerous. The security officers are looking for her."
"I see," said Qui-Gon. "What was her crime?"
"I have told you enough," the officer snapped. "Hurry or you'll miss your transport. If that happens, you'll be arrested."
"You arrest people for being late?" Qui-Gon asked mildly.
"Don't be ridiculous. For overstaying your pass."
Ahead, a large utility vehicle was unloading cargo from a repulsorlift platform. Traffic backed up behind the large vehicle, and pedestrians were stepping into the street in order to get by. Qui-Gon indicated the mess ahead to Obi-Wan with just a shift of his eyes. Obi-Wan didn't nod or show any sign, but Qui-Gon knew that his apprentice was ready.
As they came up toward the vehicle, Qui-Gon used the Force to disturb a precariously stacked column of boxes. The produce spilled over into the street while the workers shouted and cursed.
The pedestrians stepped on the produce, mashing it into the pavement and making the workers shout at them angrily. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan leaped. The Force propelled them over the mess, the citizens, and the workers, leaving the security officers behind.
They hit the street and ran, dodging between pedestrians who quickly jumped out of the way. They turned onto a smaller, quiet street, then another and another. Soon Qui-Gon was sure they had lost their pursuers.
"Now what?" Obi-Wan asked.
"I say we find Cilia Dil," Qui-Gon said. "It's likely she would have many interesting things to tell us."
"But the entire army of the Guardians are looking for her," Obi-Wan said. "How can we find her?"
"Good point, my young apprentice," Qui-Gon said. "In such cases, it becomes more reasonable to create a situation where she finds us."
It didn't take them long to find out more about Cilia Dil. Although no one would speak to them directly, afraid they were spies, conversations were easily overheard, and everyone was talking about the escaped rebel. Qui-Gon was not surprised to discover that the conversation they'd overheard that morning had been about Cilia, and that Jaren was her husband.
He lived in the middle of the city, in a large building with many apartments. The Jedi paused, pretending to look in a store window at the end of the block.
"There is surveillance on the roof," Obi-Wan said. "But they are only watching the front door. We can come from behind, go down the alley, and find a side window."
"That is exactly what they want you to do," Qui-Gon said. "Look again."
It took only a moment for Obi-Wan to scan the area again. He looked crestfallen, as if he'd deeply disappointed Qui-Gon. "I saw a flash in a window next door overlooking the alley. Electro-binoculars. They are watching the alley, too. I'm sorry, Master."
It wasn't like Obi-Wan to apologize for a wrong call. He had always absorbed Qui-Gon's small lessons without comment. Then he never made the mistake again.
How can I give him back his confidence? Qui-Gon wondered.
"What do you propose?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Do you have any ideas?" Qui-Gon asked, prodding gently.
But Obi-Wan wouldn't venture another plan. His lips pressed together, and he shook his head. He was afraid to disappoint him again, Qui-Gon saw.
Qui-Gon buried his sigh in an exhaltation of breath as he glanced up at the sky. "It's late. The end of a working day. I say we seek our advantage in routine."
"Workers and families will be coming home," Obi-Wan said
"So let's see what develops," Qui-Gon agreed.
At first it was just a trickle of passersby, but within minutes the street was crowded with people on their way home. Repulsorlift transports jammed with workers paused to open their doors and more beings spilled out on the walkways.
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan loitered outside a shop near Jar
en Dil's building. They didn't have to wait long. Soon a mother and a group of children came down the street. The mother carried a sack of food and various other bags as her children ran around her legs, shrieking with joy at being released from school. They paused for a moment at the entrance ramp outside the building. One of the small children, daydreaming, almost got swept up in the sea of people on the sidewalk. Qui-Gon quickly moved forward and picked him up. He joined the group at the ramp. Obi-Wan quickly followed.
"Tyler," the mother scolded. "How naughty." She reached for the boy while she fumbled for her entrance card. Obi-Wan lifted several sacks from her arms to help.
"Allow me to carry him," Qui-Gon said, making a face at the boy. "We've made friends."
The mother thanked him gratefully while inserting her entrance card. Obi-Wan juggled the bags and put a hand on another boy's shoulder. To an observer, it would appear that the Jedi were simply two other members of the family.
They helped the mother to her door and said good-bye to the children. There was no turbolift, and they had to climb the stairs to the top floor. Qui-Gon knocked politely on the door, which was opened by a tall man with sad eyes.
"Are you Jaren Dil?" Qui-Gon asked.
He nodded warily.
"We have come about your wife," Qui-Gon said.
Jaren Dil blocked the doorway. Despite the fact that he was almost a meter shorter than Qui-Gon and so thin he was almost gaunt, he did not seem intimidated. "I know nothing about my wife's escape."
"We wish to help," Qui-Gon said.
A twisted smile touched Jaren's lips, then disappeared. "You would be surprised," he said softly, "how often we have heard those words. They always say they wish to help."
"We are Jedi," Qui-Gon said, showing the hilt of his lightsaber. "Not Guardians."
"I know you are not Guardians," Jaren said. "But I don't know who you are, or who your friends are. I am expecting to be arrested at any moment. My crime is being married to Cilia Dil and not betraying her."
"I would like you to get a message to her," Qui-Gon said.
"I have not seen Cilia since she was arrested. She was allowed no visitors. I don't know where —"
Qui-Gon interrupted. "Tell her the Jedi want to help." Qui-Gon reached for Jaren's comlink, hooked onto his belt. He entered his code. "I have given you a way to contact me. We will meet her anywhere she wants."
Jaren said nothing. They walked away, down the stairs. They did not hear the door close until they were out of sight.
"He didn't trust us," Obi-Wan said.
"He would be foolish if he did. He is used to betrayal." "So why do you think she'll contact us?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Because in desperate times, the desperate seek out those who offer help. The fact that we are Jedi is on our side. They will discuss it. Then she will contact us."
"You seem sure of it," Obi-Wan said. "How do you know?"
"They have no one else to turn to," Qui-Gon said.
It was lucky for them that a full-scale hunt was on for Cilia, so catching the Jedi was not a high priority. That was why the guards around Jaren's house did not notice as they left. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan walked the streets, reluctant to sit in a café or even on a bench in a park. They needed to be mobile in case they were spotted. Security officers patrolled, but they were able to avoid being stopped.
Dusk fell like a purple curtain. The shadows lengthened and turned deep blue. With the cover of darkness, they felt a bit more secure. Qui-Gon was beginning to wonder if he was wrong, and Cilia would not contact them. Then, the comlink signaled.
"What is it that you think you can do for me?" a female voice asked.
"Whatever it is you need," Qui-Gon answered.
There was a short silence. "I'm going to hold you to that."
Qui-Gon marveled that Cilia could sound humorous after escaping from a notorious prison. "Tell me where and when we can meet you."
Cilia named a small pedestrian bridge that crossed the river and the hour of midnight. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had passed the bridge several times that day in their looping journey around the city. They were tired later that night as they walked there and stood at the edge, out of reach of the glowlights. The city was silent. Most of the citizens were home. They heard only the soft lapping of the river against the stones of the bridge.
Yet Qui-Gon felt that Cilia was near, close enough to hear them.
"You may as well trust us," he said out loud.
A reply came from underneath the bridge. "It's a little early in our relationship."
Qui-Gon realized that Cilia must be in a small boat, but he did not bend over to look.
"Well, you've come to meet us," Qui-Gon said. "I'll take that as a sign."
A dark shape suddenly vaulted out from underneath the bridge and landed close to them. Cilia was dressed in a waterproof suit, and her short hair was slicked back behind her ears. She was tiny and slender. The bones of her wrists looked as delicate as a bird's. The slash of her cheekbones created hollows in her face. Her eyes were the dark blue of a river. Underneath them were dark circles, marks of her suffering.
"Why do you want to help me?" she asked.
"Lorian Nod was once a Jedi in training," Qui-Gon said. "He has created trouble for this world. Let's say the Jedi owe the people of Junction 5 their support."
"He was training to be a Jedi? That could explain things. He seems to know things . . . things he couldn't know, even by surveillance." Cilia pushed away a lock of hair that had fallen onto her forehead. "I have a plan. Some Jedi help would be welcome. It's dangerous, though."
"I would expect so," Qui-Gon said.
"I've put together a team to travel to Delaluna," Cilia said. "Our idea is to break into the Ministry of Defense and Offense in order to steal the plans of the Annihilator. We can't rely on our government to take action — obviously they are paralyzed with fear — and they are afraid action will lead to reaction. Yet if we get the plans, perhaps we can discover a way to defend ourselves from the weapon. And if the citizens again feel free, the repressive government will have no reason to exist, and we can refashion a more just society."
"Dangerous is putting it mildly," Qui-Gon said. "I'd add difficult and foolhardy to that."
Cilia put one foot on the railing, ready to vault back down into the river.
"Count us in," Qui-Gon said.
CHAPTER No. 16
They spent the night in Cilia's hiding place, a safe house on the outskirts of the city. Cilia disappeared into an inner room, and Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were left to share floor space in a small, bare room painted a surprising pink. They laid out their sleeprolls and settled down on the hard floor.
"Master," Obi-Wan murmured, "should we contact the Council?"
"Why?" Qui-Gon asked.
"Well, we're about to break into another planet's government building and steal state secrets," Obi-Wan said. "Master Windu can get touchy about things like that."
"Precisely why we shouldn't bother him. I'll speak to the Council after the mission is over. Don't worry, Obi-Wan. The Council doesn't have to know every move we make, nor do they want to. You worry too much."
"You don't know what I'm thinking all the time," Obi-Wan growled.
"Not all the time," Qui-Gon said "But at this moment I do."
"What am I thinking, then?"
"You are thinking about that turnover at the cantina and wishing you'd had time to finish it."
Obi-Wan groaned and turned his face into his sleep-roll. "I'm too hungry to argue. I'm going to sleep."
Qui-Gon smiled into the darkness. Obi-Wan's breathing grew steady, and soon he had dropped off into sleep.
Qui-Gon rolled himself tighter in his blanket and stared at the ceiling. Flakes of paint had peeled off the surface, revealing a dark undercoat somewhere between brown and green. He had forged his own path apart from Dooku, but there were some lessons he had kept. A certain independence from the Council made things easier on a mission. Afterward was another story. Obi
-Wan was right. The Council would not be happy they had joined Cilia's raid.
Qui-Gon was impressed by the organization of the resistance. Cilia had arranged transport for the team and had even obtained worker identification tags from the Defense and Offense Ministry of Delaluna.
"You must have been planning this for some time," Qui-Gon said.
Cilia nodded as she climbed into the transport. "I planned it from prison. I was tired of peaceful protest. We need to strike one blow — and win."
"How did you communicate with your group?" Qui-Gon asked. "Your husband said you had no visitors in prison."
"The resistance has many friends," Cilia said, setting the coordinates. "There was a guard at the Guardian prison who smuggled in messages. He had joined the Guardians and became disillusioned. He said there were others like him. That's why I have hope."
The transport lifted off and streaked toward the moon of Delaluna. The journey wasn't long, and soon they had exited the craft at the landing platform outside the capital city of Levan.
Cilia had kept the group small. In addition to the Jedi, there was a security expert named Stephin and a weapons specialist named Aeran.
Their passes worked, which eliminated one of Qui-Gon's worries. The ministry was a bustling workplace, and they didn't attract any attention as they walked through the halls.
Cilia had memorized the layout. She led them onto a turbolift and down a long hallway into a separate wing of the building.
"I got the layout from a friend," she told Qui-Gon. "There are also those on Delaluna who don't like this situation. She passed along the blueprints to Stephin."
They reached the Weapons Development wing. Cilia stopped. She swiped her identification card, but the doors did not open.
"Stephin?"
"It's supposed to be card entry only," Stephin said, stepping forward.
Qui-Gon had taken in the situation in a glance. "It's now retinal and daily code."
"Daily code?" Stephin shook his head. "We're sunk. I can crack it but it would take hours. Plus I don't have a mainframe on me."
Qui-Gon admired Cilia's coolness. She did not show her exasperation. Her skin seemed to tighten over the sharp cheekbones. "We're here," she said. "I'm not leaving without those plans. We have to find another way."
