Read The Call to Vengeance Page 10

"Qui-Gon, wait!"

  But he ignored his Padawan. He could not wait.

  With this new sharpness of mind, he remembered the exact location of

  the data room. He did not hesitate but threw open the door. He could hear

  Obi-Wan only steps behind him, and he felt a stab of disappointment. He

  wished Obi-Wan had stayed behind.

  He wanted to meet Balog alone.

  The squat, powerful man sat at a tech console. He spun around in his

  chair, a look of surprise on his face. So Eritha had not been able to reach

  him.

  Qui-Gon took in the small dark eyes, the small pursed mouth, the

  round head. He focused his hatred on this man. Here was the man who had

  watched Tahl's health deteriorate slowly, day by agonizing day, and felt

  nothing. Here was the man who had not recognized that he was slowly

  crushing an extraordinary spirit.

  This little, evil man.

  The injustice of it staggered Qui-Gon. This man was alive. Tahl was

  dead. His vision blurred at the emotion that roared inside him.

  Balog rose, kicking his chair out of his way. He reached for the

  blaster on his belt.

  Qui-Gon smiled.

  Obi-Wan stood next to him, his lightsaber held in a defensive stance,

  waiting for Balog to make the first move.

  With one hand, Balog reached over to activate the comm unit on the

  tech console. "I need help in the data center. Send attack droids - "

  With a casual gesture, Qui-Gon buried his lightsaber in the console.

  Sparks flew, and smoke curled from the circuits.

  Balog fired. Obi-Wan sprang forward to deflect it.

  The blaster fire was nothing to Qui-Gon. It was merely a momentary

  barrier between himself and Balog. Balog was his prey. A collection of skin

  and muscles and bones that must be brought down in a heap.

  His lightsaber moved like a trick of light, so fast that each stroke

  was a memory. It was so easy to deflect Balog's pathetic fire. Panic rose

  in Balog's eyes and made him clumsy. He dropped his blaster. He tried to

  run, but his legs tangled in the chair he had kicked away. He fell with a

  crash to the floor.

  At last, Qui-Gon's enemy lay at his feet, just as he'd imagined. He

  stood over Balog, his lightsaber high, prepared for the stroke that would

  bring him so much satisfaction.

  "No, Qui-Gon."

  The voice seemed to come from far away, yet it was so close to his

  ear. It confused him.

  He turned and met Obi-Wan's eyes. He felt he was seeing him from a

  great distance. Confusion swept over him.

  Then it was as though clouds parted, and clarity came. He saw so much

  in a moment. In his Padawan's steady glance he saw both fear and

  compassion.

  He was no longer far away. The distance compressed, and he was in the

  same room with Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon returned to himself, and saw how far he had

  gone. The dark side had risen in his blood. He had known it and encouraged

  it. Shaking, he deactivated his lightsaber and tucked it back in his belt.

  He had come close to taking a life out of revenge. Only he would know

  how close. He would never forget it. He would never allow himself to forget

  it.

  Balog closed his eyes in relief. Obi-Wan stood over him and reached

  for his comlink as Mace and Bant entered the room.

  CHAPTER 18

  The four Jedi stood on the landing platform high above the city of

  New Apsolon. Qui-Gon looked down at the stately gray buildings, the curving

  streets and wide boulevards. From high above it was easy to tell where the

  grand Civilized Sector began and the smaller, twisting neighborhoods of the

  Workers ended.

  Manex had lent them the finest consular ship on New Apsolon, as well

  as his personal pilot. Tahl's body had been loaded aboard in a small room

  fragrant with native flowers. The Jedi would accompany her on her last

  journey back to the Temple.

  They left behind them a government still torn by division. Alani,

  Eritha, and Balog had been arrested. There had been a huge outcry at the

  arrest of the twins. Both Workers and many Civilized did not believe they

  could be corrupt. Not the daughters of Ewane. lrini was recovering in a med

  center, but charges had been filed against her. The Worker movement had

  lost lrini and Lenz in one stroke. They were struggling to find new

  leaders.

  The turbolift doors opened and Manex stepped out. He was dressed in a

  rich robe of his favorite shade of green. He walked forward and bowed to

  the Jedi.

  "The people of New Apsolon owe you a great debt," he said.

  "There is still unrest on New Apsolon," Mace said. "But the

  government will proceed with honesty."

  Manex nodded. "The elections are now set for next week. Other

  Legislators have stepped forward to run. I know the Absolute movement has

  been damaged, but it has not disappeared completely. We still have enemies

  to fight. No doubt there are more troubles ahead as the Committee to

  Reinstate Justice deals with the list of Absolute informers. But I have

  committed myself to my world. If I'm elected, I'll take up where Roan left

  off."

  "If you need us again, we will come," Mace told him.

  Qui-Gon turned away. / will not be the one to come, he thought. He

  would never return to New Apsolon again.

  "We thank you for your transport," Mace said to Manex. "And for all

  you have done."

  Manex's brown eyes were full of sorrow. "I cannot begin to replace

  what you lost here. I can only promise you my service for the rest of my

  life, should you need it."

  Manex signaled the pilot on board to lower the ramp of the ship.

  Then, with a final bow, he walked away.

  Qui-Gon stood a short distance from the others. He saw Bent move

  closer to Obi-Wan.

  "Is Qui-Gon all right?" she asked in a low, concerned tone.

  "I don't know," his Padawan said. "But he will be."

  Will I? Qui-Gon wondered with a curious detachment.

  Obi-Wan glanced at Bant. "Are we all right?"

  Qui-Gon felt that if it were possible for his heart to be touched, it

  would be, at the warm look in Bant's eyes. He remembered when he and Tahl

  had been that close.

  "Of course," she told Obi-Wan.

  He owed Obi-Wan a word, too. He called him over to his side.

  "I need to thank you," he told him. "When I stood over Balog with

  hate in my heart, you saved me. It was the sound of my name that brought me

  back to myself."

  Obi-Wan looked at him, puzzled. "But I didn't speak."

  Qui-Gon's heart swelled. It had been Tahl. Of course it had been

  Tahl. The voice had been so near and yet so far away. It was her voice,

  soft and warm, a voice he had heard rarely, and a tone, he now realized,

  she had reserved only for him.

  She was still with him. It should have helped him to know that. But

  instead, fresh agony ripped through him. It was not enough to have her

  voice in a time of need. He needed her physical presence. He needed her

  warm and breathing, close enough to touch, near enough to exchange a

  private smile.

  Obi-Wan must have seen something on his face. He placed a hand on
/>
  Qui-Gon's shoulder. Qui-Gon did not feel the pressure. He did not want to

  feel his Padawan's touch. He was grateful to Obi-Wan for his compassion. He

  owed a debt to Mace and Bant for their silent understanding.

  Yet he could not stand to be with them.

  Qui-Gon turned away from them and strode up the ramp. He would spend

  the journey back to Coruscant watching over Tahl alone.

  He knew one thing: This grief must be borne, and it would not be a

  load that lessened with time. It would appear and reappear. It would gather

  and lose strength, and when he thought it was diminishing, it would rise

  again. It was too big for Jedi acceptance to contain it.

  And what does that mean, to be a Jedi and be unable to accept? Qui-

  Gon wondered. It was a question for another time.

  He entered the ship and did not look behind him. He was leaving on

  New Apsolon the possibility of a different life, a life that he had looked

  forward to with a joy he did not know existed in the galaxy. He would

  return to the life he had, a life of solitary service. He did not know

  where else to go.

  He hoped to find satisfaction in that service again someday. That day

  seemed far away. For now, he headed for the small room where Tahl lay for

  his last, long good-bye.

 


 

  Jude Watson, The Call to Vengeance

 


 

 
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net

Share this book with friends