Part 2 (1/2)

Qui-Gon turned in his seat to indicate an open pod at the lower left of Obi-Wan's heads-up display screen.

”That one. They must be planning to launch from the inner rim hangar portal. Set us down nearby, with our hatch facing away from their pod.

But be mindful not to draw attention. Cohl is sure to have posted sentries.”

”Would you like to a.s.sume the piloting, Master?” Obi-Wan asked peevishly.

Qui-Gon smiled to himself. ”Only if you're tiring, Padawan.” Obi-Wan compressed his lips. ”I'm anything but tired, Master.” He regarded the display screen for a moment. ”I've found us a good place.” As if under the guidance of droids in the hangar traffic stations, the pod settled on its quartet of disk-shaped landing gear. The two Jedi fell silent while they watched the vidcam feeds. After a long moment, a pair of human males emerged from Cohl's pod, oxygen masks covering their faces and disrupter rifles cradled in their arms.

”You were right, Master,” Obi-Wan said softly.

”Cohl is becoming predictable.”

”We can hope, Obi-Wan.” One of the sentries circled the pod, then returned to the open hatch, where the other was waiting.

”Now's our chance,” Qui-Gon said. ”You know--was ”I know what to do, Master. But I still don't understand your reasoning. We could surprise Cohl here and now.”

”It's more important that we discover the location of the Nebula Front's base, Padawan. There'll be time then to put an end to Captain Cohl's exploits.” Qui-Gon inserted a small breathing device into his mouth and flipped a switch that opened the circular front hatch. A cacophony of skirling sirens greeted them. The two Jedi climbed out into the red glow of emergency lighting that suffused the hold.

No object was more symbolic of the Jedi Knights than the polished alloy cylinders Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan wore on the hide belts that cinched their tunics. With the belts' abundance of utility pouches, the thirty-centimeter-long cylinders might have been tools of a sort--and, indeed, the Jedi viewed them as such-- but, in fact, they were weapons of light, actual and figurative, and had been employed by the Jedi for thousands of generations in their self-appointed mandate to serve the Galactic Republic as the stewards of peace and justice.

The crystal-focused lightsaber, however, was not the true source of a Jedi's power, for that sprang from the omnipresent energy field that permeated all life and bound the galaxy together, an energy field the Jedi knew as the Force.

Tens of thousands of years the order had devoted to the study and contemplation of the Force, and as by-products of that devotion had come powers beyond the ken of ordinary folks: the power to move objects at will, to cloud the thoughts of lesser minds, to peer forward in time. But most of all, the ability to live in symbiotic accord with all life, and thus be allied to the Force itself.

Moving with preternatural silence and swiftness, Qui-Gon advanced on Cohl's pod, the lightsaber gripped in his right hand, concealing himself at every opportunity behind other pods. With all the noise in the hangar, he knew that it wasn't going to be easy to distract the two guards. But he had to buy Obi-Wan at least a few moments.

Sprawled atop the curving nose of one of the pods was what remained of a battle droid's upper torso and elongated head. Glancing at Cohl's sentries, Qui-Gon thumbed the activator b.u.t.ton above the lightsaber's ridged handgrip.

A rod of brilliant green energy hissed from the sword's alloy hilt, thrumming as it came in contact with the thin air. With a single one-handed swipe of his lightsaber, Qui-Gon cleaved the droid's head from its thin neck. At the same time, he extended his left hand, palm outward, andwitha blast of Force power sent the severed head hurtling across the hangar, where it struck the deck with a strident clank, not five meters from where the terrorists stood.

The pair swung to the sound, with weapons raised.

And in that instant, Obi-Wan disappeared in a blur, headed for Cohls pod.

Midlevel in the freighter's centersphere, Cohl, Rella, Boiny, and the rest of Cohl's band gazed wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the cache of aurodium ingots, which had been removed from the Revenue's security cabin and piled-- lovingly--atop a repulsor sled. Hypnotic in their beauty, the ingots glowed with a constantly s.h.i.+fting inner light that summoned all colors of the rainbow.

Even Dofine and his four bridge officers could scarcely tear their eyes away.

”Take my breath and call me wheezy,” Boiny said. ”Now I've seen it all.”

Cohl snapped out of his reverie and turned to Dofine, whose thin wrists were secured in s.h.i.+ny stun cuffs.

”You have our grat.i.tude, Commander. Most Neimoidians wouldn't have been so obliging.” Dofine glowered. ”You go too far, Captain.” Cohl's broad shoulders heaved in dismissal. ”Tell that to the members of the Trade Federation Directorate.” He nodded to Rella to get the sled under way, then took Boiny by the shoulders and steered him toward an inset control panel.

”Patch into the central control computer and tell it to run a diagnostic on the fuel-drivers. When the computer locates the thermal detonator, it should order an abandon s.h.i.+p.” Boiny nodded in comprehension.

”Be sure to convince it to jettison all the cargo pods and barges,” Cohl added.

Dofine's eyes widened in revelation. ”So, the lommite is important, after all.” Cohl turned to him. ”You're confusing me with someone who cares one way or another what goes on between the Trade Federation and the Nebula Front.” Dofine was confused. ”Then why are you saving the cargo?”

”Saving it?” Cohl put his hands on his hips and laughed heartily. ”I'm merely providing the Acquisitor with a target-rich environment, Commander.” With the same extraordinary nimbleness that had guided him to the terrorists' pod, Obi-Wan returned to the Jedi craft.

”Everything is in place, Master,” he said, just loudly enough to be heard over the wailing sirens.

Qui-Gon motioned him toward the hatch. But Obi-Wan hadn't even raised a foot when all the pods in the hangar began to levitate and wheel toward one hangar portal or another.

”What's happening?” Qui-Gon looked around in mild perplexity.

”They're jettisoning the cargo.”

”Hardly the act of terrorists, Master.” Qui-Gon's brow furrowed in thought. ”The central control computer wouldn't allow this unless the freighter was in serious jeopardy.”

”Perhaps it is, Master.” Qui-Gon agreed. ”Either way, Padawan, we're better off inside our craft. Unless Cohl has failed in his mission, he should be arriving at any moment.” Barely keeping pace with the ingot-heaped repulsor sled, Cohl's band jogged down the broad avenue of the starboard hangar toward the rendezvous point. The Revenue's bridge crew struggled to keep up, despite being equipped with rebreather masks and even when prodded in the back by the emitter nozzles of the terrorists'

blasters. To all sides of them hovered cargo pods and tenders, moving toward inner and outer wall hangar portals.

Even Cohl was out of breath by the time everyone reached zone three and the waiting pod. Only one member of the first team--a blond-furred Bothan--had made it back, but Cohl refused to concern himself just then with the fate of the rest. Every member chosen for the operation had been apprised of the risks.

”Get the aurodium stowed,” he shouted to Boiny through the rebreather's communicator. ”Rella, do a head count and get everyone aboard.” Daultay Dofine glanced worriedly at the countdown timer still affixed to the back of his hand. ”What is to become of us?” he yelled.

A human member of Cohl's band motioned broadly toward a large, nearby pod that had yet to lift off. ”I suggest you unload that one and cram yourvs inside.” Dofine blinked back panic. ”We'll die in there.” The human laughed scornfully. ”That's the idea.” Dofine looked at Cohl. ”Your word...” Cohl twisted his head to one side to read the display on the countdown timer, then cut his eyes to Dofine.

”If you hurry, you'll make it to the escape pods in time.” o bi-Wan waited for the terrorists' pod to rise from the hangar deck before activating the repulsorlift engines. In addition to the huge portals at the ends of the hangar arms, magnetic containment portals along the inner curve of the arms had opened up in each zone. Scores of cargo pods and barges had begun to converge on these smaller egresses, but bottlenecks were forming quickly, despite the supervisory efforts of the central control computer.

Obi-Wan understood that if they were too late in reaching the portal, he and Qui-Gon would be forced to resort to some other means of abandoning s.h.i.+p. But the young Jedi was nothing if not methodical. He spent a long moment studying the flow of traffic and antic.i.p.ating where jams were likely to occur before deciding on a course.

That course took them straight up into the hangar's lofty reaches of hoists and cranes, before descending acutely for the zone three portal.

Grazing three pods on the way down, Obi Wan neatly avoided a collision with a barge that was fast becoming lodged in the opening.

Cohl had exited the hangar arm minutes earlier, but the tracker Obi-Wan had affixed a.s.sured that the Jedi would be able to single Cohl's pod out from the now stampeding herd.

”We have them, Master,” he told Qui-Gon, who was studying the rear display screens. ”They're heading straight for the centersphere. I'm not certain if they intend to climb over it or dive beneath it, but they are accelerating.”

”Stay with them, Obi-Wan. But keep a fixed distance. We don't want to reveal ourselves just yet.” With the bone-white centersphere looming and the broad sweep of the immense arms to either side, the inner district of the annular freighter was a sight to behold - comespecially with crafts of all size and shape pouring from the holds. But the erratic motion of those same pods and barges left Obi-Wan little time to appreciate the view. He divided his attention between the flas.h.i.+ng bezel that was Cohl's pod on the heads-up display, and the console screens, which showed exterior views to either side.

With most of the pods streaming toward the lower portion of the centersphere, even slight encounters were causing chain reactions within the bunch. Many pods were already spinning out of control, and a few were on collision courses for the hangar arms.

It all began to remind Obi-Wan of some of the exercises he had endured during his youth in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, where the goal of a student was to remain unswervingly attentive to a single task, while as many as five teachers did all they could to distract.

”Watch our stern, Padawan,” Qui-Gon warned.

A pod had emerged from below them, catching them aft on its ascent. In danger of being tipped end over end, Obi-Wan applied power to the nose att.i.tude jets and managed just in time to stabilize their craft.

But the brush had knocked them off course, and suddenly they were closing on the thick structural stalk that wedded the immense centersphere to the hangar arms.

Obi-Wan glanced at the heads-up display, but found no pulsing bezel.

”Master, I've lost them.”