The Death of Hope

4

By the time they reached the coordinates that the probe droid had given them, the droid had not returned with Balog’s next position.

Qui-Gon halted his speeder, which hovered over the ground. Obi-Wan pulled up next to him. They were well outside the city in an unpopulated area. It was flat and dry, with only a few trees clumped here and there. In the far distance, they could see hills.

“We could wait here for the droid,” Qui-Gon said to Obi-Wan. “Or we could track ourselves. If we’re wrong, we’d have to double back. It could waste time.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “Then we can’t be wrong.”

By the look on his Master’s face, Obi-Wan knew it was the answer he’d wanted to hear.

Leaving the engines idling, the two Jedi jumped from their transports and examined the ground. Obi-Wan had been taught tracking at the Temple, but he’d also recently been on a tracking exercise with Qui-Gon on Ragoon-6. He was glad he’d had a chance to brush up on his skills.

“The probe droid has told us that Balog is traveling in an armored hoverscout,” Qui-Gon said. “We know he was last heading roughly east. If we can find some evidence of scorch marks from the engine, we can track him. A vehicle of that weight takes a bigger power drive. There’s a predictable pattern of acceleration and release of excess exhaust.”

Obi-Wan examined the ground as he’d been taught, dividing it into sections and noticing each pebble, each disturbance of sand. He crouched down to examine a rock.

“Here,” he said. He moved a step on. “And here.”

Qui-Gon leaned over to examine the trail. “Yes. See how deeply the rocks have been marked. He accelerated here. Let’s go.”

They jumped back onto their transports and took off. Every so often they stopped to examine the surrounding ground. True to the pattern, they found evidence of exhaust on the rocks and ground. They knew they were still on Balog’s trail.

The suns began to slip down into the sky. Obi-Wan scanned the horizon ahead. He saw a black shape heading their way. He didn’t say anything for a moment. He hoped it was the droid but wasn’t certain.

Qui-Gon’s gaze was slightly sharper. “Here it comes,” he called, relief in his voice. He halted the speeder and Obi-Wan pulled up beside him. In just minutes, the droid returned.

Qui-Gon consulted the readout. “He’s stopped. Good. We might be able to catch up to him by dawn.”

Qui-Gon released the probe droid again, then zoomed off to the next destination. Obi-Wan pushed his engine to follow. Balog was within their grasp.

They rode all night. It was Obi-Wan’s second night without sleep. The three moons rose high in the purple sky, and the calls of night creatures came to him faintly. When weariness overcame him, he reached out to the Force to help him maintain a meditative state. He was alert enough to drive, yet was able to allow his body to rest even as he sped over the rocky ground. Qui-Gon did not appear tired in the least.

Dawn broke quickly on this world. The horizon turned red-orange, and the blazing color spread into the dark purple of the sky as the suns rose higher. The flat landscape had changed to foothills that grew larger and steeper as they rode. Trees were thick, and the Jedi had to use caution to keep up their speed.

“We are close, Padawan. Let’s slow down a bit. Balog could be breaking camp.” Qui-Gon slowed his engine, and Obi-Wan followed suit.

“We should go on foot from here. He should be over that next hill.”

Obi-Wan jumped off his swoop gratefully. His legs felt stiff. The air was cold, and he moved quickly to warm his muscles.

They climbed the hill silently. Their footing had to be assured, for if they slipped, they could cause a small rock slide that would alert Balog of their presence.

They neared the top of the hill and Qui-Gon dropped to his hands and knees. Obi-Wan did the same. He slithered up to the top and peered over.

All he saw was an empty plain. There was no sign of Balog, even in the distance. He must have left long ago.

Qui-Gon dropped his head into his hands. He did not speak for a moment. Obi-Wan was disappointed, but he could see that his Master was distraught.

Obi-Wan was tired and hungry and cold. There was nothing he would like better right now than to set up the condenser unit for warmth, eat some rations, and settle on the ground for a good sleep of at least a few hours.

Instead, he put his hand on Qui-Gon’s shoulder. He spoke softly.

“Let’s keep going.”

“Yes,” Qui-Gon said, his expression fierce. “Let’s move on.”