The Defenders of the Dead

12

Qui-Gon settled Tahl into a nest of quilts and blankets, the best the Young had to offer. He stood over her for a moment. She had tired from the short battle and she fell asleep almost immediately. He could feel the flicker of her living Force, but it was only a flicker. Tahl’s memory of how she got her injuries was gone. She remembered being caught in the middle of a battle, but she could not remember being wounded or blinded.

Qui-Gon sat back against the wall to think. Their mission was over.

They had only to wait until the fighting died down. Cerasi had assured him that she could get the Jedi out of the city without endangering Tahl. He would bring Tahl back to Coruscant and hope that the Jedi healing arts would bring her back to the vibrant strength he remembered so well.

Qui-Gon knew he would leave behind a world in chaos. Children battling to save it. Elders locked in conflict, willing to sacrifice the population for their cause.

Yet he must leave. His first duty was to get Tahl back. Then he would ask Yoda’s permission to return. The Jedi Master would not grant it, most likely. The Jedi did not go to worlds and meddle in their affairs unless they were requested to do so. Only in extraordinary circumstances would they interfere, or if a world was threatening the peace and security of others. The inhabitants of Melida/Daan were locked in its conflict, hurting no other world but their own.

Obi-Wan had asked permission to go above ground with Cerasi. Qui-Gon had granted it. He knew that when he told Obi-Wan that they must leave, his Padawan would not want to go. Yet Obi-Wan would obey him. It was his first duty as a Padawan, and Obi-Wan was a Jedi to the bone.

Their mission was close to success. Yet foreboding lodged in Qui-Gon’s chest like a heavy stone. His instinct was warning him, but he could not place what the warning was, or how it would affect him.

He heard running footsteps, and Nield burst into the room with Obi-Wan and Cerasi. Qui-Gon was struck with how the three moved in the same rhythm, their strides matching perfectly despite Obi-Wan’s long legs and Cerasi’s more slender build.

“Gather around, everyone!” Nield cried. “We have news!”

Nield leaped up on top of the grandest tomb. Boys and girls swarmed around him, coming from the strategy stations around the room and from the adjoining tunnels. They turned expectant faces up to him.

“Our battle is over,” Nield said. “We have achieved total victory!”

The Young cheered wildly. Nield held up a hand.

“Our raid on the weapons storehouse of the Daan was a success. We have stolen the weapons the Daan did not waste in attacking the Melida or shooting at imaginary attackers. We have deposited them in the North Tunnel. The Melida” Nield paused, grinned, “-blew up their own storehouses so that the Daan would not get their weapons!”

The Young let out wild hoots of laughter. They shouted with joy.

“We have delivered our messages to both sides, letting them know that the Young were behind the battles, and that we have succeeded in stealing their arms. Without weapons, the Elders cannot fight each other. Today we have taken a giant step toward peace!”

Exhilaration raced through the room like a current. Qui-Gon watched as Nield leaned down and grabbed Cerasi’s hand. He pulled her up to stand next to him. Then he reached down for Obi-Wan. Smiling, Obi-Wan leaped up on the tomb to take his place beside the two leaders.

The Young reached up to touch his tunic. Obi-Wan reached down to touch their hands and accept their congratulations. He linked arms with Cerasi and Nield. Never once did he glance at Qui-Gon. It was as though the Jedi Knight wasn’t in the room. It was as though Obi-Wan was not a Jedi.

It was as though he was part of them. As though he had become one of the Young.