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Chapter 2 - Beginnings, Part II
On the bridge, Nute Gunray and Rune Haako watched through a viewscreen as battle droids lined up into formation outside of the conference room. Satisfaction, pleasure, and surprise crowding his mind all at once at having eliminated his problem so easily, Nute Gunray switched on the viewpad that allowed him to communicate to the droids.
“They must be dead by now,” the Viceroy said to the squadron leader, “Destroy what is left.”
As the hologram faded, the leader motioned to one of its subordinates; the second droid nodded its mechanical head and moved forward. It pressed its claw-like hand to the pressure panel and the door opened with a hiss. Noxious green clouds billowed out into the hallway as the deadly gas escaped into the corridors. The droids saw movement in the clouds and raised their weapons until they saw a glint of silver.
“Oh, excuse me,” said TC-14, carrying a tray laden with empty glasses and half-spilled food.
With all the efficiency in its databanks, the droid moved aside, and continued on its way.
“Check it out, Corporal,” the squadron leader said, “We’ll cover you.”
“Roger, roger,” it replied.
Instantly the Jedi appeared, charging from the room with lightsabers flashing: green for the Master, blue for the apprentice. Qui-Gon’s saber sliced neatly through two of the battle group and came around in a swift arc to send another flying in a shower of sparks and scattered parts. Obi-wan’s blue blade deflected bolt after bolt of blaster fire, sending them hurtling back to their relative owners. The droids erupted in a shower of sparks; on raising his hand palm outward, he sent another flying backward against the wall.
On the bridge viewscreen, Nute Gunray and his lieutenant could see only the smoke and lingering clouds of gas that obscured their vision. Alarms had begun to sound through the ship, echoing off its metal hull.
“What is going on down there?” demanded the Viceroy, his eyes wide.
But Rune simply shook his head, asking, “Have you never encountered a Jedi Knight before, sir?”
Neimoidians were a cowardly people by nature, preferring to hide behind those in power, and at the moment, Nute Gunray wanted nothing more than to do just that.
“Well,” he blustered, trying to quell his growing fear, “No, but…Seal off the bridge!”
As the doors closed, the Viceroy could see one of the Jedi in the hallway, sprinting to the control room. But he was too late, Nute breathed in relief: the doors had shut before the Jedi could reach the bridge and its treacherous occupants. Rune Haako, however, was not so easily subdued. He shook his head at the blast doors that protected them from the Jedi.
“That won’t be enough, sir,” he said, his voice low.
His lieutenant’s certainty frightened Nute, and he shouted:
“I want droidekas up here at once!”
“We will not survive this.”
Suddenly, a blade of light cut through the door of the bridge, and began tracing a circle into the solid metal. Nute felt his throat begin to tighten and his skin began to crawl.
“Close the blast doors, now!” he screamed, “Where are those droidekas?”
One after another, the blast doors began to close. Outside, Qui-Gon withdrew his blade at the sound of the magnetic blast doors sealing shut. With Obi-wan dispatching the last of the battle droids outside the bridge, Qui-Gon suddenly plunged his lightsaber almost up to the hilt, the energy-charged blade penetrating through the steelcrete of the blast doors like soft butter. The crew stood transfixed as a spot of molten metal appeared in the center of the door. Mutters of disbelief were quickly silenced by the Viceroy’s screaming. At the center of the final blast door, the metal began to turn molten and burn away.
“They are still coming through,” Rune whispered, gathering his robes as he backed away.
Viceroy Gunray couldn’t believe his eyes.
“This is impossible!”
X X X X
Outside, Obi-wan watched his Master burn away the bridge’s blast doors with pride, even as he remained alert to the hallway. A good choice: when his instincts warned him of danger, he called out to Qui-Gon.
“Master, destroyers!”
Qui-Gon whirled around to face the droidekas that had rolled around the hallway. Together he and his Padawan deflected the incoming blaster fire with all their skill. The redirected energy bounced off the droids’ shields, sending the bolts flying into the walls and showering sparks everywhere.
“They have shield generators!” Obi-wan shouted to his Master.
“It’s a stand-off,” replied Qui-Gon, “Let’s go.”
On the viewscreen inside the bridge, Nute Gunray and company watched as at first one moment the Jedi were fighting off the destroyers, and then the next they were gone. His fear not entirely gone, the Viceroy gathered his robes around him as Rune Haako spoke with triumph:
“They’re no match for droidekas!”
“Sir,” said the captain seated below him, “They’ve gone up the ventilation shaft!”
X X X X
The wind whipped through her hair, playing with it, tossing its brown length wildly behind her as she ran through the trees. The haversack that had been so heavy on the ground now seemed lighter than air. She laughed at the freedom she tasted, scented, touched as the wind pulled at her, the sun shone down on her, and the world rushed by her with breathtaking speed.
Joy filled her, made her heart swell until she felt as if it would burst into a thousand golden suns. She tossed her head, whooping aloud as she saw a yawning gap open before her, her laughter eerie in the heart of the forest. Leaping into the air with all the grace of a dancer, for a few precious seconds, she was in her element: suspended while in motion between earth and sky and sunlight.
X X X X
In the main hangar bay of the star ship, Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-wan Kenobi crouched silently behind cargo boxes, watching racks being lowered and thousands of sleek silvery shapes marching up the massive landing platforms to be secured.
“Battle droids,” Qui-Gon said softly, surprised and dismayed
“It’s an invasion army,” his apprentice replied, glancing away to his master.
“This is an odd move for the Trade Federation,” Qui-Gon observed, “We have to warn the Naboo, and contact Chancellor Valorum.”
Obi-wan looked at him, and suddenly the humor of their situation struck him.
“You were right about one thing, Master,” he said.
Qui-Gon looked at him.
“The negotiations were short.”
Nearly, but not quite, rolling his eyes, Qui-Gon smiled softly to himself as he beckoned his apprentice ahead.
X X X X
/ Not much farther, now. Zasa will be so pleased with the Calamari shells I was able to find for her. I hope Jingo likes the balka leaves; I wonder if Ja- /
A sudden shadow flew overhead, and she stopped as soon as she could, her eyes showing her confusion. Shaking her head, she dropped her pack onto the branch beneath her and withdrew her climbing sticks from her belt. Twirling them to find the perfect grip had been second nature to her for years, and it held well with her now. Effortlessly digging the sharpened ends into the tree bark, she pulled herself up using the strength in her arms and the special grips that were customary on the soles and toes of Dysean boots.
Swinging herself onto a branch, she stuck her head up and out of the last tier of tree-canopy and was able to see around the tops of the trees for miles. Another buzz came from behind her, and as she ducked her head, she was shocked to see a massive double-winged transport ship pass by bearing the mark of the Trade Federation. / Goddess, what are they doing here? A blockade is one thing, but invasion? / She watched as the transport ship swung around, no doubt looking for a place to land; the pilot seemed to find it as the ship began to descend and touch down beneath treetops that obscured her vision.
Shaking, she pulled her head back under the canopy, shocked at the actions of the Trade Federation. / How can they do this? / She shook her head. She had to get the lake now; she had to warn them. She trapped the climbing sticks once more to her back, within easy reach, and jumped down, landing lightly on the branch she had abandoned; picking up her pack once more, she checked it to see if any ties had become loose. There was no choice now. Breathing deep, she ran her mind through various calming exercises, readying her heart. / I have to get there in time. / As she began her wild run, she laughed to herself. / I wanted a reason to not go back to Theed. I guess I found one. /
X X X X
Qui-Gon Jinn slipped wraithlike through the swamp, listening to the heavy rustling and snapping branches behind him as the transports began to advance. Mixed with the deeper, heavier whine of transport engines was that of the high-pitched buzzing of the STAPs whipping above the watery terrain of Naboo. Animals of all shapes and sizes began to scatter around Qui-Gon as he raced through the swamp, their names recalling instantly in his mind as he cut across dry marsh and ducked under overhanging branches that were mowed down by the transport ship before they had a chance to still. Dodging the frightened creatures stampeding around him, he looked ahead and realized that he was running out of firm ground fast.
Searching for a way past a large lake, he saw a strange froglike creature crouched low in his path. It seemed to be absorbed with a shell it had just pried open, until it caught sight of Qui-Gon. Startled, the creature rose, its long flat ears dangling from its amphibious head and its eyes, protruding from the top of its head, blinked in confusion, taking in first Qui-Gon’s running form, then the animals about him, and then seeing clearly for the first time the massive shadow behind them.
“Oh, oh!” it muttered, its eyes popping wide with fear.
Qui-Gon broke left past the creature, anxious to get out of the path of the transport, but the strange creature, eyes wide and frantic, had grabbed onto Qui-Gon’s robes.
“Let go!” he snapped, trying in vain to get free.
The transport bore down on them, and in an act of desperation, Qui-Gon threw his body weight into the creature, falling on top of it, feeling the steady buzz of the transport’s engines as it rolled over them. With a loud whine, the massive ship lumbered on, cutting through trees and undergrowth as if they were butter.
When the ship was safely past, Qui-Gon pulled himself out of the mud and drew in a deep, welcome breath. The strange creature rose with him, still clinging to his arm, cloudy water dripping from its flat-billed face. It threw itself on Qui-Gon, hugging him ecstatically.
“Oh, mooie-mooie, I love you,” it warbled, beginning to kiss him.
“Are you brainless?” huffed Qui-Gon, “You almost got us killed!”
The creature looked offended.
“I spek.”
“The ability to speak does not make you intelligent,” said Qui-Gon, having none of it, “Now get out of here!”
He started to move off, looking around uneasily as the high-pitched buzz of STAPs sounded in the distance. The creature hesitated for a moment, then began trailing him.
“No, no, mesa stay…Mesa called Jar Jar Binks; mesa your humble servant.”
“That won’t be necessary,” replied Qui-Gon, barely glancing at him, looking through the shadows for Obi-wan.
“Oh, but it is! Tis demanded byda Gods, it is!”
Suddenly, two STAPs burst from the mist-shrouded foliage at high speeds, bearing down on a lone figure that was sprinting toward the man and the creature. Qui-Gon pulled free his lightsaber.
“I have no time for this,” he said, pushing the creature away, “Get down.”
Jar Jar turned, seeing the STAPs bearing down on them, eyes going wide all over again.
“Oh, oh, wesa gonna-”
Qui-Gon silenced him by pushing him backward into the mud. Flicking on his lightsaber, he braced himself as Obi-wan and the pursuing STAPs approached. Jar Jar’s head popped up.
“Wesa gonna die!” he screamed.
The battle droids opened fire from their turret cannons just as Obi-wan reached his friend. Blocking the bolts with his lightsaber, Qui-Gon deflected them back into the attack craft. The STAPs exploded into shards of hot metal and fell into the swamp. An exhausted Obi-wan wiped his muddied brown forehead, gasping for breath. Behind them, Jar Jar pulled himself out of the mud and blinked curiously at the second Jedi.
“You saved my again!” he crowed.
“What’s this?” asked Obi-wan, looking at the creature with disdain.
“A local,” replied Qui-Gon, “Let’s go, before more droids show up.”
They turned to go, but not before Jar Jar spoke in an alarmed voice:
“Mure? Mure did you spake?”
Qui-Gon was already moving, Obi-wan a step behind as they picked their way across the swamp. It took only a moment for Jar Jar to catch up with them, his long legs working frantically, his eyes rolling.
“Ex-squeeze me, but de mossest safest place would be Gunga City. Tis where I grew up. Tis a hidden city.”
Qui-Gon brought them to a halt, staring fixedly now at the Gungan.
“A city?” he asked.
Jar Jar nodded eagerly.
“Can you take us there?” asked Qui-Gon.
The Gungan suddenly seemed distraught.
“Ah, on second taut,” he said, his voice warbling, “No, not reely, no.”
“No?”
Qui-Gon took a step forward, his eyes dark. Jar Jar looked as if he wished he could disappear into the swamp completely. His throat worked and his billed mouth opened and closed like a fish’s.
“Tis embarrassing…but…My afrai my’ve been banished. My fergoten…da Bossas do terrible tings to me, terrible tings if mya goen back dare.”
A low, pulsating sound penetrated the terrible whine of the STAPs, rising up through the mist of the swamp and its gloom, growing steadily louder. The Jedi looked at one another. Qui-Gon took another step toward the tall Gungan.
“Do you hear that?” he asked.
Jar Jar raised a hand to his ear, answering, “Yah.”
“That is the sound of thousand terrible things coming this way,” said Qui-Gon his voice low and intimidating.
“And when they find us,” added Obi-wan, getting into the thrill of the game, “They will crush us, grind us into tiny pieces and then blast us into oblivion.”
The Gungan was visibly terrified now, looking from Jedi to Jedi, and once back behind him,
“Yousa point is well seen. Dis way,” said Jar Jar, whipping his ears around, nearly whacking Obi-wan in the head, “Hurry.”
As they made their way through the swamp, Qui-Gon and Obi-wan kept their minds open, allowing each part of their environment to mesh with their senses. They walked in silence, the Gungan loping ahead at his flopping gait, the Jedi matching him pace for pace. Turning to the humans again, Jar Jar was surprised to see that the mosquitoes, usually so hungry for human blood, did not affect them.
Curious, he asked, “Yousa diff’rent from das oda biguns, yes?”
His apprentice remaining silent, Qui-Gon chose to answer, “We are not from this planet, if that is what you mean.”
The Gungan shook his head, his ears flapping comically and hitting overhanging branches. Startled, he flailed his hands around, hitting himself in the head before turning around to face the humans again, “Nah, mesa asken if yousa diff’rent from dem; oda tradas mesa see comen here, but deysa bitten by dosa skeetos sames as da Naboo. Yousa diff’rent, mesa tink.”
The older one did not reply, so Jar Jar shrugged and faced forward again, just in time for another tree branch to hit him in the head.
“Ooof!” he cried, falling into the mud, “Ow-owwie!”
He rubbed his head with his hands, pushing himself up and slipping onto his face in the process. Suddenly, a sharp cry of laughter was heard, bouncing eerily off the trees and foliage. On their guard, both Jedi whipped their lightsabers out of their robes, igniting them with a hum of energy and their minds stretched to touch the life around them. Qui-Gon frowned, worry lines apparent on his forehead as he realized he couldn’t read the life signature that had caused the sound; he could feel that it was there, yet could not identify it or its position.
Frightened, Jar Jar backed himself against a kasso tree, forgetting the nasty little detail of the tree being carnivorous. At the tight jerk around his middle, the Gungan let out a panicked shriek, squirming and twisting his way around the living vines wrapping around him. Instantly, the canopy above him came crashing down as a figure clad in brown, black, and green hurtled through the leaves of the tree. The figure, moving too quickly to see clearly, slashed crosswise at the moving vines, severing them above Jar Jar’s head. Still shrieking, the Gungan didn’t realize he had been freed and continued to screech while struggling with his bindings. The stranger sighed, grabbing the Gungan’s head and throwing him away from the tree. The Gungan landed in the soggy ground with a squish.
“Jar Jar!” said the stranger in an admonishing voice, “You know better than to walk into a kasso tree! Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
The younger Jedi was astonished to realize the creature’s rescuer was a woman. Qui-Gon merely Hmmphed thoughtfully, and switched off his lightsaber, Obi-wan following his example with reluctance. The woman appeared oblivious to the Jedi and knelt at Jar Jar’s side, placing an arm around him comfortingly, and saying:
“You know better, Jar Jar; just look next time, alright?”
Startled, he looked up into the woman’s face, and shouted, “Al-ya, mesa frend! Mesa no tinkin mesa see-en yous again!”
He stood up quickly, nearly falling headlong into the mud, and wrapped his filthy arms around her, hugging her tightly. The woman seemed to respond in turn, and when Jar Jar released her, she tucked a pair of sticks into her belt, smiling at him.
“It’s been too long, my friend, since I last saw you. Tell me, have you caused much trouble since I’ve been away?”
The Gungan blushed, turning his eyes downward in embarrassment. He mumbled softly:
“Mesa bin banished again.”
“What? Not again, Jar Jar,” moaned the woman, pinching the bridge of her nose and rubbing it gently.
“I beg your pardon, madam, but who are you?”
Glancing upward at the voice, Alia was startled to find two men staring down at her. Their clothes marked them as Jedi, the older one tall and brown-haired, the younger having a head of reddish-brown and a braid that she knew marked him as a Padawan. She felt a slight rush of warmth when she looked into his crystal blue eyes, and quickly glanced away to hide her reaction.
But it was the older Jedi who made her breath catch in her throat before she was able to force her lungs to continue functioning. Looking into his eyes, she felt her blood tighten for an instant, and a band that had encircled her heart for as long as she could remember loosened slightly. A small shiver of hope danced through her even as she schooled her face to remain expressionless despite her exasperation with her friend. Nodding reassuringly to Jar Jar, she stood from her position.
“Alia Despin,” she said, pronouncing her name as ‘Ah-lee-ah’, “How may I serve thee, Master Jedi?”
She bowed in a mock salute to formality, her cloak trailing in the mud. Qui-Gon could feel his apprentice’s anger, and moved to quell his ire. { Patience, my young Padawan: we may yet need her assistance. }
“I am called Qui-Gon Jinn,” began the Jedi Master.
He stopped, however, when a breeze shifted through the trees and the shadows lifted from her face. Her eyes, a vivid, brilliant blue, stunned him, leaving him breathless.
“This is my apprentice,” Qui-Gon finished, after his moment of hesitation, “Obi-wan Kenobi.”
Those eyes were unreadable to him, yet he felt as if he could. As if he had read them...and very intimately...a long, long time ago. Pointedly turning her back to them, Alia patted Jar Jar comfortingly on the shoulder, taking the pair of sticks from her belt and twirling them in the air. Qui-Gon noted with some amusement that her movements were not unlike the flamboyant elements in his Padawan’s fighting style. Obi-wan, however, was not so amused with his Master’s thoughts and shot a quick glare at him.
Ignoring the byplay between Master and Apprentice, Alia was lost in memory of when Jaris had given her her very first pair of ardeli sticks: she had been perhaps ten, eleven years. Most Dysean children received theirs as soon as they began to walk, but then, she had only recently come to Dysis. Perhaps in their minds, they had seen her as newborn; in their world, she had been. Shaking off the memory of her patient teacher, Alia rolled her shoulders, and with practiced ease, climbed up the tree she had been appraising. Within seconds she had disappeared from sight; Qui-Gon was surprised at the speed with which she had ascended into the trees, but his apprentice was more open with his astonishment.
“What is she, Master?” asked Obi-Wan, unsure of his feelings. She had appeared to fly up the tree-trunk, the sticks in her hands moving in a blur.
Qui-Gon looked at his apprentice, amused, “She is human, Obi-wan. A human with an uncanny ability to scale tall trees.”
“She?” interrupted the local, eyes wide and ears flapping, “Shesa Al-ya, shesa tell you dat already. Shesa good frend of da dotta de da Bossas, and shesa be-en my good frend, too.”
Swiveling his head around, the Gungan placed his hands around his mouth and called loudly, “Yousa comen wid us, Al-ya?”
This time when the woman fell to the ground, her boots made a slight squishing sound as they sank into the sodden dirt. A frown worried Alia's brow as she shook one of them with disdain, then shrugged and hefted a haversack onto her shoulder.
Curious, Jar Jar pawed the bag, saying, “What is datten, Al-ya?”
Annoyed, she slapped his hands lightly, saying sternly, “None of your business, Jar Jar; I have things for Zasa.”
The Gungan had snapped his hands back quickly, sucking on them to lighten the sting, and was now glaring at her with a mixture of hurt, outrage, and fear in his large wet eyes. As she continued to scowl at him, he hung his head, mumbling:
“Mesa sowwy; mesa no doin it again.”
The woman laughed, tossing back her brown hair, and kissed him soundly on the cheek.
“I know, Jar Jar, I know. Besides, some of them are for you as well, you silly Gungan. You don’t want to ruin the surprise, now do you?”
Looking up again, he widened his eyes even more as he said hopefully:
“Yousa be comen wid us to da city?”
“Why else would I have my haversack?” she replied.
Hefting its weight once more, she tightened the leather thongs that held shut the bag’s mouth, then hoisted its straps over her shoulders, and started off.
X X X X
Author's Notes
Dysean pronounced “Dy-shawn”; of Dysis.
STAP standing for single trooper aerial platform.
Ardeli pronounced “Ar-deh-lee”; climbing sticks native to the planet Dysis where most of the planet is covered in massive forest growth and the natural inhabitants (humans) live in trees.
Kasso pronounced “Kah-soh”; grows to massive heights with natural defenses: off-shooting vines are carnivorous and are attracted to anything that is unlucky enough to fall across its path.
