The Death of Hope

16

Qui-Gon landed with his lightsaber already activated. Behind him, he heard the door close.

Balog stood in the center of the room between Qui-Gon and Tahl. The sensory deprivation device was leaning against the cave wall with Tahl inside. He could only see her eyes through a small viewscreen. He knew she was alive. Her eyelids fluttered. She could still feel his presence, as she always had. A slight tremor in the Force told him that she was trying to reach out to him.

Obi-Wan began to cut through the durasteel with his lightsaber. Qui-Gon could smell the melting metal. He kept his gaze steady on Balog, who was smiling faintly.

Then Balog laughed.

“You think you can threaten me? You think that you and your young friend can frighten me? What you don’t know is that I have all the power here.” He held up a small transmitter. “I can take away her life.”

Obi-Wan burst through the hole in the door and stopped short, his lightsaber ready.

“Don’t move, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said steadily.

“Do you see this?” Balog asked, holding the transmitter aloft. “I can give your friend a last, lethal dose. She is very weak. I wanted to keep her alive, but I’ve come to realize that there is no need.”

“What do you want?” Qui-Gon asked.

“Nothing from you,” Balog said contemptuously. “You’ve done enough already. You found this place. Well, your Worker allies won’t find anything here when they arrive. No records. Nothing to spy on, nothing to steal.”

“You set the weapons room to detonate,” Qui-Gon guessed.

“I’ll be gone before that happens. We have plenty of support in the city. We don’t need these followers to accomplish what we need to.”

“You don’t care what lives are lost.”

“I care about Apsolon. My Apsolon,” Balog said fiercely. “Not the Apsolon the Workers want. You Jedi are in my way.” He stepped back and accessed a door behind him. A tiny space contained a small transport with a bubble-shaped top. Another door was cut into the far wall. No doubt it was to allow the exit of the transport into the lake. The interior door would close, allowing the compartment to flood.

“Now I’m leaving. You may make it out of here when the explosives room goes, but I doubt it—especially when you have to drag your friend along.” Balog pointed to Tahl with his chin. “And believe me, she’s in no shape to walk. I made sure of that.”

Qui-Gon tensed, then relaxed. It took an effort of will to absorb his anger and continue to wait for his opening.

“I leave you to your fate,” Balog said, stepping back toward the transport. His small, dark eyes glinted. “Don’t move, either of you. You see my finger near this button? If you try to stop me and are a fraction off, if you stumble, if you give me only a split second, I can press it. If you move toward me, I could flinch and press it. If, in short, one of the thousand things that could go wrong does go wrong, Tahl will die.”

Qui-Gon sprang. He had never moved faster or more surely. He knew that Balog did not see him, that one moment he was standing meters away and the next he was in the air next to him. With careful precision, Qui-Gon brought his lightsaber down, neatly slicing off Balog’s finger. The transmitter fell to the floor.

“I guess you didn’t flinch,” Qui-Gon said. Howling with pain and rage, Balog backed up toward the transport as he fumbled for his blaster with his good hand. Obi-Wan sprang forward as Qui-Gon headed for Tahl.

Another explosion rocked the cave, this one larger than before. The force of the blast almost knocked Obi-Wan to the ground. The sensory deprivation device began to slide. Qui-Gon threw himself toward it and caught it in his arms. He laid it down gently.

Instead of attacking Obi-Wan, Balog aimed his fire at the sensory deprivation device. Qui-Gon ignored the ping of blaster fire around his head; he knew his Padawan would deflect it. A chain of explosions went off and dirt began to rain down from the cave ceiling. Obi-Wan sprang into the tiny holding room as Balog scrambled into the transport.

“Leave him, Obi-Wan!” Qui-Gon shouted. He put his lightsaber to work, cutting away at the deprivation device.

Balog accessed the exit. Water poured into the tiny room, knocking Obi-Wan off his feet. His lightsaber shorted out.

Qui-Gon had a bigger worry: Soon the room would be flooded.

“Obi-Wan!”

Balog’s transport took off underwater, bouncing wildly as it fought against the impact of the water gushing toward the opening.

“Let him go!” Qui-Gon bellowed. “Tahl will drown!” The deprivation device was now floating. Qui-Gon held his lightsaber aloft. If it touched the water, it would short out, too. Qui-Gon could feel Tahl’s life force flickering. They had to get her out of here.

Obi-Wan struggled to his feet. The water was now up to his knees. He felt his leg ache as he pushed toward Qui-Gon, who had opened a seam in the side of the device.

“That sounded like the main weapons room,” Qui-Gon said tersely. “The cave could collapse. Let’s get Tahl out of here.”

Water was now almost to their waists. Qui-Gon deactivated his lightsaber and quickly tucked it into his belt. Desperately, he lifted Tahl out of the device. She said nothing, her head flopping against his chest as though she couldn’t support it. To see her so weak sent agony ripping through him. They struggled through the water toward the opening Obi-Wan had cut in the door.

Once they were through the opening, they were able to stand. Water was pouring through the opening, and the door was starting to strain against its bolts, but the water in the tunnel was only ankle deep. They ran, splashing through the flooding, and reached the dry area of the cave.

The smoke was thick and acrid now, burning their lungs. The cave area was deserted.

Qui-Gon allowed Tahl to slide down his body so that she was on her feet. Her legs immediately gave way. He picked her up again and cradled her against him. He had to control his anger against Balog for her sake. What she needed from him was calm.

“Tahl,” he said gently. “We’re going to get you out of here.”

One hand curled around his neck. He felt the gesture, her cold hand against his neck, and it curdled his blood. It was the same gesture she had made in the vision, the gesture that had told him how close to death she was.

She managed to smile up at him. “It is too late for me, dear friend,” she said softly.