The Dark Rival

6

Obi-Wan was bored. If he had to go on one more Spore Tour, he would scream.

He knew that Agri-Corps did important work. But why was he here?

In the middle of brown, parched earth, the Agri-Corps had constructed a giant dome. Surrounding the dome were scientific laboratories and worker housing. Entrances from the labs and the admin centers led into the dome itself. Everyone worked for the good of the planet. No outside interests were allowed to control the research, and no profits were taken from any discoveries.

Obi-Wan would have found the operation interesting if it weren’t for the fact that his tour guide, a Meerian named RonTha, was the dullest creature he’d ever met. RonTha was fascinated by such things as stem grafts and seed sprouts. He could talk about them for hours in his droning monotone. And he did.

The only bright spot was that Obi-Wan was about to be reunited with his friend Si Treemba, the Arconan he’d met on the transport.

Arconans were born in nests and raised in close communities. They didn’t have a highly developed sense of individual self, and didn’t often associate with outsiders. But Si Treemba had formed a deep bond of friendship with Obi-Wan. He had stood side by side with him against Hutts and Togorian pirates. Because of his decision to take Obi-Wan’s side against the Hutt Offworld leaders, he had almost lost his life. Si Treemba had discovered his own individual courage along the way.

Obi-Wan headed for the admin center, where he was to meet RonTha and Si Treemba. He saw his friend waiting and hurried to greet him.

“It is good to see you again, my good friend,” he said, clasping both of Si Treemba’s arms. The Arconan had a strong, snakelike body with slender arms and legs.

“We are blessed to see you, Obi-Wan,” Si Treemba answered. His large, glowing eyes were full of pleasure. Arconans rarely, if ever, used the word “I.”

Clat’Ha had sent Si Treemba to monitor the Agri-Corps’ dactyl research. The Arconans needed the yellow crystal to survive, and Agri-Corps was trying to develop a way to incorporate it into the food supply. It was unusual for one of his species to travel alone, but Si Treemba had become an unusual Arconan. Clat’Ha knew she could depend on him.

RonTha approached, consulting a datapad as he walked. “Today we are scheduled to tour the northernmost quadrant of the great dome,” he told them in his usual drone. “We have many fascinating seed experiments to cover. Stay with me at all times, and do not touch anything.”

RonTha led the way into the dome. The vast, enclosed space was lit by an artificial sun, actually an illumination bank set high in the dome. Outside the dome was a vast brown wasteland, but here they were surrounded by rustling grain and grasses. Around them gardeners hurried to and fro, their arms filled with flats of baby plants or seed dishes.

Dazzled by the light and heat, Obi-Wan and Si Treemba trailed after RonTha as he listed the many agricultural experiments taking place.

“With all this talk about food, we’re getting hungry,” Si Treemba whispered to Obi-Wan.

“We sure are,” Obi-Wan agreed. He swallowed as he glimpsed a grove of trees ahead. Large, golden fruit hung from the many branches, close enough to pick.

A tiny monitor on RonTha’s belt began to glow. He switched it off. “I’m being called to the administration building,” he told them. “You’re free to wander about, if you wish. Just don’t go off the path. And don’t touch anything!” RonTha hurried off.

Obi-Wan eyed the fruit. “Do you think when he said don’t touch anything, he meant fruit?” he asked Si Treemba.

Si Treemba’s triangular head bobbed nervously. “Hard to say.”

“Probably not.” Obi-Wan looked around, then quickly swiped a yellow fruit. He tossed it to Si Treemba, then got one for himself.

“We really shouldn’t,” Si Treemba said, biting into the fruit.

“Mmmffff.” Obi-Wan waved a hand dismissively, chewing.

The fruit was sweet and succulent, yet had a crisp tang. It was the most delicious fruit Obi-Wan had ever tasted. “We’d better find someplace private to eat these,” he said.

Just then, he and Si Treemba heard footsteps. They exchanged guilty glances, their mouths full. With a jerk of his head, Obi-Wan indicated that they fall back behind the trees.

A group of gardeners came into sight, carrying baskets. They headed for the orchard.

“Uh-oh,” Obi-Wan whispered. “We’d better get out of here.” He didn’t want his mission to end with a disciplinary problem. He’d already had enough troubles on the journey here from Coruscant.

“Hey!” one of the gardeners yelled. “You there!”

Si Treemba began to choke and dropped the fruit. He tripped over it as he tried to run. Obi-Wan hauled him up and they dashed through the orchard, finally reaching a field. Obi-Wan yanked Si Treemba under cover of the tall grain.

“We’ll have to cut through the field to get back to the main path,” Obi-Wan panted.

They ran down the rows, trying to find a way out. The field was much larger than they’d thought. All they could see was green, and the artificial blue sky above.

Finally, they burst out of the last row. Obi-Wan felt his feet suddenly slide in something damp and marshy. They flew out from under him and he went flying. Si Treemba followed. Clots of dirt splattered their faces and tunics. They finally landed and slid into a huge pile of dirt.

“What’s that smell?” Si Treemba said, wiping a clot of dirt out of his eye. “It smells worse than a bantha on a hot day.”

“I think we found the fertilizer,” Obi-Wan groaned, pulling himself out of the muck. They surveyed their surroundings. Behind them was the field. Ahead was a blank wall.

Something about the wall bothered Obi-Wan. It was tall and seamless, and curved out of sight around the fertilizer pile.

He walked closer and placed his hands against the wall. The surface was cool, like metal. When he took his hands away, to his surprise he saw, just for an instant, that his touch had caused a transparency. It happened in the flicker of an eyelid, too quickly for him to see inside.

“What are you doing?” Si Treemba asked impatiently. He let out the Arconan hissing sound of anxiety. “Let’s go. This smell will kill us.”

Si Treemba hadn’t seen the wall flicker. Perhaps the Force was at work. “One moment,” Obi-Wan said. “I think this might be another way out.”

He felt carefully along the wall, watching as his fingers left a shimmering transparency behind. He’d never seen a metal with this quality before. Finally, he found what he was looking for—a seam. He traced it with a finger. It was a door.

Keeping his hands flat on the door, Obi-Wan felt the energy from the living things around him, the grain and fruit, the people, the rich, organic island that was the dome.

Si Treemba gasped when the entire wall suddenly turned transparent. They saw that it was actually an annex that extended back to the dome wall. Inside, Obi-Wan could see bags of fertilizer and cargo boxes of various sizes.

“It’s just a storage area,” Si Treemba said, disappointed.

It seemed innocent. So why had it been so well concealed? Obi-Wan pushed skillfully on the door. He heard a soft electronic beep, and it swung open.

Si Treemba hissed nervously again. His pale, luminous eyes flickered. “Are you sure we should go inside?”

“You stay here,” Obi-Wan instructed. “Keep a lookout. I’ll be right back.”

He stepped inside the space. Immediately, the walls turned opaque again. It was like being inside a white cube. He bent over to examine the labels on the cargo boxes. The labels were black triangular shapes that showed a red planet with an orbiting holographic spaceship.

Obi-Wan recognized it instantly—Offworld. He leaned over to read markings on the side of the crate. He moved from box to box, reading the descriptive labels. Explosives. Turbo-drills. Detonators. Tunnel borers. Biotic grenades.

These were mining supplies. But they were on protected Agri-Corps land. Agri-Corps was strictly forbidden to concern itself with any profit-making enterprise. Was someone here secretly in league with Offworld?

“Obi-Wan, hurry up!” Si Treemba called. “We stink! We want to take a shower!”

Obi-Wan saw a small box in the corner that he had missed. This one had no label, only a metallic icon that served as a clasp. It was a broken circle.

He had seen enough for now. Obi-Wan slipped past the boxes to the door.

“What is it?” Si Treemba asked.

“Some kind of secret annex for Offworld,” Obi-Wan said. “They’re up to something.”

Si Treemba’s greenish skin paled to a dull gray. “Here? But they’re forbidden.”

“Since when does that stop them?” Obi-Wan said grimly. “Let’s get back. I have to contact Qui-Gon.”

“You mean you’re not going to do anything?” Obi-Wan demanded. Qui-Gon wavered in front of him in miniature hologram form.

“There is nothing to do,” Qui-Gon said. “Did you say the wall turned transparent with the Force?”

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Obi-Wan answered. “Have you?”

Qui-Gon ignored the question. “The information is interesting, nothing more. There’s no real proof that Offworld is interfering with Agri-Corps research.”

Obi-Wan wanted to howl in frustration. “They shouldn’t be here at all! I should return to Bandor. Offworld is planning something ... something big. We need to investigate this!”

“There is no need,” Qui-Gon said crisply. “Your mission is to report back on the progress of Agri-Corps.”

“What about the broken circle on the box?” Obi-Wan asked urgently.

“Obi-Wan, follow your orders,” Qui-Gon sternly replied. “If you find proof of wrongdoing, contact me immediately. Do not take any action on your own.”

“Qui-Gon—”

“Did you hear me, Obi-Wan?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan answered reluctantly.

“Now, I must go. Keep me informed.”

The hologram wavered, then disappeared. Obi-Wan stared at the empty air where Qui-Gon’s image had hovered. Once again, Qui-Gon had shut him out.