The Uncertain Path

15

Qui-Gon alerted security to be on the lookout for Bruck. They could comb the grounds more efficiently than he could. Then he raised the container from the water himself and dragged it back to shore. At least they could return the stolen property.

He retrieved Obi-Wan’s lightsaber from the dry compartment. He hit the activator, and it shot to life immediately, glowing ice-blue in the darkness. It hadn’t been damaged, he saw with relief. He deactivated it and hooked it into his belt next to his own.

Tahl led the silenced TooJay back to her quarters. She would coordinate the search efforts from there. Qui-Gon went straight to Bruck’s chamber.

The boy wasn’t there, of course. Security had already looked for him.

It was clear that the boy had decided not to take chances. He was gone for good.

Qui-Gon looked around Bruck’s room. If there was a clue here to why a promising boy would do such things, he couldn’t see it. His clothes were neatly folded, his desk neat. What had been in the boy’s heart? Qui-Gon touched the lightsaber on his belt. What was in any boy’s heart? And why did Yoda think that Qui-Gon could see into them?

He had let the Temple down. Bruck’s anger had been there. He hadn’t seen it. Just as he hadn’t seen the anger of his first Padawan, Xanatos. Or the unrest of Obi-Wan.

Wearily, Qui-Gon gazed out the window. The sun was rising. It was time to tell Yoda. One of their own had betrayed them.

His comlink flashed red—Yoda was calling him. He was most likely anxious for the report.

Qui-Gon took the turbolift to the conference room where he knew Yoda would be waiting. Yoda was alone in the room when he walked in.

“So you’ve heard,” he said.

“Bruck our culprit is,” Yoda said. “Troubling and sad, yes. Called you here for something else, I have. A message for you.”

Startled, Qui-Gon looked at Yoda, but the Master gave no clues. He activated a hologram instead.

The image of Obi-Wan suddenly appeared in the room.

Angrily, Qui-Gon turned away and started for the door.

“I don’t have time—”

Obi-Wan’s voice was soft. “Cerasi is dead.”

The words hit Qui-Gon hard. He stopped and turned. Now he could see that his former Padawan’s face was etched with misery.

“She was caught in a cross-fire between Elder and Young forces.”

Sorrow flooded Qui-Gon. During his short time on Melida/Daan he had grown fond of the girl. He had understood why Obi-Wan had been drawn to her.

This was a tragedy.

“Now each side blames the other for her death,” Obi-Wan continued. “Even Nield is ready for battle. Wehutti’s forces have rearmed. My squad has been disbanded. I have no command, no way to convince the others to disarm.”

Qui-Gon took an unconscious step toward the hologram. Obi-Wan’s face was etched with grief and something else, something Qui-Gon had seen on the faces of those most stunned by an awful fate: incomprehension.

His former Padawan stood in miniature, hands dangling at his sides helplessly. “I don’t know what to do,” he confessed. “I am no longer a Jedi. Yet I know what a Jedi can do. And I know that only a Jedi can help. Qui-Gon, I realize I have done harm to us. But will you help me now?”

Qui-Gon’s hand drifted to Obi-Wan’s lightsaber, still tucked into his belt. He closed his fingers around the hilt. It seemed to hold some sort of charge, even though it was deactivated. Or was it the Force he felt, pulsing around him?

Obi-Wan’s pale face shimmered before him, then disappeared. At that moment, he saw what Yoda and Tahl had been trying, in their different ways, to tell him. He had not been betrayed by a Jedi. He had been betrayed by a boy. A boy overtaken by passion and circumstance. The boy deserved his understanding. No, he had no secret way to see into a boy’s heart.

Perhaps all he needed to do was listen.

“Send Obi-Wan a message,” he told Yoda. “I am on my way.”