The Phantom Menace (7 page)

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Authors: Terry Brooks

BOOK: The Phantom Menace
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A guard came forward and removed Jar Jar’s wrist binders.

“Come, Jar Jar,” Qui-Gon Jinn advised, turning him away.

“Through da core?” Jar Jar gasped, realizing suddenly what had happened. “Count me outta dis! Better dead here den dead in da core! Me not go …”

But by then the Jedi were dragging him out of the room and all sight and sound of Boss Nass.

On the bridge of the Trade Federation’s lead battleship, Nute Gunray and Rune Haako stood alone before a hologram of Darth Sidious. Neither of the Neimoidians was looking at the other, and both were hoping the Sith Lord could not sense what they were thinking.

“The invasion is on schedule, my lord,” the viceroy was saying, robes and headdress hiding the occasional twitching of his limbs as he faced the cloaked and hooded form before him. “Our army nears Theed.”

“Good. Very good.” Darth Sidious spoke in a soft, calm voice. “I have the Senate bogged down in procedures. By the time this incident comes up for a vote, they will have no choice but to accept that your blockade has been successful.”

Nute Gunray glanced quickly at his compatriot. “The Queen has great faith that the Senate will side with her.”

“Queen Amidala is young and naive. You will find controlling her will not be difficult.” The hologram shimmered. “You have done well, Viceroy.”

“Thank you, my lord,” the other acknowledged as the hologram faded away.

In the ensuing silence, the Neimoidians turned to each other with knowing looks. “You didn’t tell him,” Rune Haako said accusingly.

“Of the missing Jedi?” Nute Gunray made a dismissive gesture. “No need to tell him that. No need to
tell him anything until we know for certain what has happened.”

Rune Haako studied him a long time before turning away. “No, no need,” he said softly, and walked from the room.

O
bi-Wan Kenobi sat hunched over the controls of the bongo, familiarizing himself with their functions as Jar Jar Binks, positioned next to him, rambled on and on about nothing. Qui-Gon sat in the shadows behind them, silent and watchful.

“Dis is nutsen!” Jar Jar moaned as the bongo motored steadily away from the shimmering lighted bubbles of Otoh Gunga and deeper into the waters of Naboo.

The bongo was an ungainly little underwater craft that consisted mostly of an electrical power plant, guidance system, and passenger seating. It looked somewhat like a species of squid, having flat, swept-back fins and aft tentacles that rotated to propel the craft. Three bubble-canopied passenger compartments were arranged symmetrically, one on each wing and the third forward on the nose.

The Jedi and the Gungan occupied the nose compartment, where Obi-Wan had assumed command of the controls and Jar Jar had been instructed to start directing them through the core. It seemed that there were
underwater passageways all through the planet, and if you were able to locate the right one, you could cut travel time considerably.

Or in the alternative, Obi-Wan thought darkly, you could cut your own throat.

“We doomed,” Jar Jar muttered plaintively. His flat-billed face lifted away from the directional guidance system toward the Jedi, his long ears swaying like ridiculous flaps. “Heydey ho? Where we goen, Cap’n Quiggon?”

“You’re the navigator,” Qui-Gon observed.

Jar Jar shook his head. “Me? Yous dreaming. Don’t know nutten ‘bout dis, me.”

Qui-Gon placed a hand on the Gungan’s shoulder. “Just relax, my friend. The Force will guide us.”

“Da Force? What tis da Force?” Jar Jar did not look impressed. “Maxibig thing, dis Force, yous betcha. Gonna save me, yous, all us, huh?”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes in dismay. This was a disaster waiting to happen. But it was Qui-Gon’s disaster to manage. It was not his place to interfere. Qui-Gon had made the decision to bring Jar Jar Binks along, after all. Not because he was a skilled navigator or had displayed even the slightest evidence of talent in any other regard, but because he was another project that Qui-Gon, with his persistent disregard for the dictates of the Council, had determined had value and could be reclaimed.

It was a preoccupation that both mystified and frustrated Obi-Wan. His mentor was perhaps the greatest Jedi alive, a commanding presence at Council, a strong and brave warrior who refused to be intimidated by even the most daunting challenge, and a good and kind man. Maybe it was the latter that had gotten him into so much trouble. He repeatedly defied the Council in matters that Obi-Wan thought barely worthy of championing. He
was possessed of his own peculiar vision of a Jedi’s purpose, of the nature of his service, and of the causes he should undertake, and he followed that vision with unwavering single-mindedness.

Obi-Wan was young and impatient, headstrong and not yet at one with the Force in the way that Qui-Gon was, but he understood better, he thought, the dangers of overreaching, of taking on too many tasks. Qui-Gon would dare anything when he found a challenge that interested him, even if he risked himself in the undertaking.

So it was here. Jar Jar Binks was a risk of the greatest magnitude, and there was no reason to think that embracing such a risk would reap even the smallest reward.

The Gungan muttered some more, all the while casting about through the viewport as if seeking a road sign that would allow him to at least pretend he knew what he was doing. Obi-Wan gritted his teeth. Stay out of it, he told himself sternly. Stay out of it.

“Here, take over,” he snapped at Jar Jar.

He moved out of his seat to kneel close to Qui-Gon. “Master,” he said, unable to help himself, “why do you keep dragging these pathetic life-forms along with us when they are of so little use?”

Qui-Gon Jinn smiled faintly. “He seems that way now perhaps, but you must look deeper, Obi-Wan.”

“I’ve looked deep enough, and there is nothing to see!” Obi-Wan flushed with irritation. “He is an un-needed distraction!”

“Maybe for the moment. But that may change with time.” Obi-Wan started to say something more, but the Jedi Master cut him short. “Listen to me, my young Padawan. There are secrets hidden in the Force that are not easily discovered. The Force is vast and pervasive, and all living things are a part of it. It is not always
apparent what their purpose is, however. Sometimes that purpose must be sensed first in order that it may be revealed later.”

Obi-Wan’s young face clouded. “Some secrets are best left concealed, Master.” He shook his head. “Besides, why must you always be the one to do the uncovering? You know how the Council feels about these … detours. Perhaps, just once, the uncovering should be left to someone else.”

Qui-Gon looked suddenly sad. “No, Obi-Wan. Secrets must be exposed when found. Detours must be taken when encountered. And if you are the one who stands at the crossroads or the place of concealment, you must never leave it to another to act in your place.”

The last of the lights from Otoh Gunga disappeared in a wash of murkiness, and the waters closed around them in a dark cloud. Jar Jar Binks was taking the craft ahead at a slow, steady speed, no longer muttering or squirming, his hands fixed on the controls. He flipped on the lights as darkness closed about, and the broad yellow beams revealed vast stretches of multicolored coral weaving and twisting away through the black.

“I respect your judgment in this, Master,” Obi Wan said finally. “But it doesn’t stop me from worrying.”

Like all of the Jedi Knights, Obi-Wan Kenobi had been identified and claimed early in his life from his birth parents. He no longer remembered anything of them now; the Jedi Knights had become his family. Of those, he was closest to Qui-Gon, his mentor for more than a dozen years, who had become his most trusted friend.

Qui-Gon understood his attachment and shared it. Obi-Wan was the son he would never have. He was the future he would leave behind when he died. His hopes
for Obi-Wan were enormous, but he did not always share his student’s beliefs.

“Be patient with me, Obi-Wan,” he replied softly. “A little faith sometimes goes a long way.”

The bongo navigated a coral tunnel, the bridge work revealed in deep fissures of crimson and mauve in the glow of the little craft’s lights. All about, brightly colored fish swam in schools through the craggy rock.

“Are the Gungans and the Naboo at war with each other?” Qui-Gon asked Jar Jar thoughtfully.

The Gungan shook his head. “No war. Naboo and Gungans don’t fight. Long time ago, mebbe. Now, Naboo keep outta swamp, Gungans keep outta plains. Dey don’t even see each other.”

“But they don’t like each other?” the Jedi Master pressed.

Jar Jar snorted. “Da Naboo gotta big heads, alla time think dey so much better den da Gungans! Big nuttens!”

Obi-Wan bent over Jar Jar Binks, his eyes directed out the viewport. “Why were you banished, Jar Jar?” he asked.

The Gungan made a series of small smacking sounds with his billed lips. “Tis kinda long story, but keeping dis short, me … oh, oh, ahhh … kinda clumsy.”

“You were banished because you’re clumsy?” Obi-Wan exclaimed in disbelief.

The bongo turned down through an open stretch of water between two huge coral shelves. Neither the Jedi nor the Gungan saw the dark shape that detached itself from the larger outcropping and began to track them.

Jar Jar squirmed. “Me cause mebbe one or two little bitty axaudents. Boom da gasser, crash der Bosses’ hey-blibber. Den dey banish me.”

Obi-Wan was not entirely sure what Jar Jar was telling
him. But before he could ask for clarification, there was a loud thump as something struck the bongo, causing it to lurch sharply to one side. A huge crustacean with multiple legs and massive jaws ringed with teeth had hooked them with its long tongue and was drawing them steadily toward its widespread maw.

“Opee sea killer!” Jar Jar cried in dismay. “We doomed!”

“Full speed ahead, Jar Jar!” Qui-Gon ordered quickly, watching the jaws open behind them.

But instead of pushing the throttles forward, Jar Jar panicked and jammed them into reverse, causing the little ship to fly directly into the mouth of their attacker. The bongo slammed into the back of the monster’s throat with a heavy thump that sent the Jedi reeling over the seats and into the walls. Rows of jagged teeth began to close about them as the lights on the control panel flickered uncertainly.

“Oh, oh,” Jar Jar Binks said.

Obi-Wan leapt quickly back into the copilot’s seat. “Here, give me the controls!”

He seized the throttles and steering apparatus and shoved everything into forward, full speed ahead. To his surprise, the opee sea killer’s mouth opened with a spasmodic jerk, and they shot through its teeth as if from a laser cannon.

“We free! We free!” Jar Jar was jumping about in his seat, ecstatic over their good fortune.

But a quick glance back revealed that they were lucky for a different reason than they thought. The opee sea killer was caught in the jaws of a creature so huge that it dwarfed even the beast it was eating. A long, eel-like hunter with clawed forelegs, rear fins, and a wicked pair
of jaws was crunching the sea killer into tiny bits and swallowing it down eagerly.

“Sando aqua monster, oh, oh!” Jar Jar Binks moaned, burying his face in his hands.

Obi-Wan increased power, trying to put more distance between themselves and this newest threat. The sando aqua monster disappeared behind them, but the lights of the bongo were flickering ominously. The little craft dived deeper, penetrating the planet’s core. Suddenly something exploded inside a control panel behind them, showering the cabin with sparks. Seams split overhead, and water began leaking through the bongo’s outer skin.

“Master,” Obi-Wan said as the power-drive whine took a sudden dive, “we’re losing power.”

Qui-Gon was working over the troubled control panel, head lowered. “Stay calm. We’re not in trouble yet.”

“Not yet!” Jar Jar had lost all pretense of calm and was flailing about in his seat. “Monstairs out dere! Leakin in here. We sinkin with no power! Yous nuts! When yous think we in trubble?”

With that, the lights inside the bongo went completely black. Jar Jar Binks had his answer.

In the conference room of the lead battleship of the Trade Federation fleet, a hologram of Darth Sidious towered over Nute Gunray and Rune Haako. The Neimoidian viceroy and his lieutenant stood motionless before it, reddish orange eyes fixed and staring, reptilian faces betraying every bit of the fear that held them paralyzed.

The black-cloaked figure of Darth Sidious regarded them silently. There was no hint of expression on his shadowed countenance, which was mostly hidden within
the folds of the cloak’s hood. But the rigid posture of the Sith Lord’s body spoke volumes.

“You disappoint me, Viceroy,” he hissed at Nute Gunray.

“My lord, I am certain that all—” The subject of his anger tried futilely to explain.

“Worse, you defy me!”

The Neimoidian’s face underwent a terrifying transformation. “No, my lord! Never! These Jedi are … resourceful, that’s all. Not easily destroyed—”

“Alive, then, Viceroy?”

“No, no, I’m sure they’re dead. They must be. We—we just haven’t been able to confirm it … yet.”

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