Obi-Wan nodded. “I won’t let you down.”
Qui-Gon watched as Obi-Wan sprinted toward the bridge with Si Treemba behind him. Suddenly, the boy looked so young…
For half a moment, Qui-Gon was tempted to follow him and leave the pirates to the Whiphids and Arconans. But the miners wouldn’t be a match for the Togorians. He would have to trust Obi-Wan.
Qui-Gon heard the distant roar of small blasters. That could mean only one thing: the pirates had already boarded. Though the Arconans were choosing to hide from the battle, the Offworld miners were putting up a fight.
Of course, the pirates would send more than one boarding party. Qui-Gon decided to let the Offworlders protect themselves. He dashed down a side corridor, toward the docking bay. Clat’Ha ran behind him.
He rounded a corner. A huge Togorian pirate stood directly in his path, his eyes flashing like green embers in the dark fur of his face. The Togorian reached out with his enormous claws to rake Qui-Gon.
But Qui-Gon was a Jedi Master. The Force had already warned him. He twisted under the pirate’s arms, anticipating the move, and grasped the lightsaber attached to his belt. The blade came up cleanly, slicing the Togorian at the knees. The Togorian roared in pain.
Behind the fallen pirate, more Togorians rounded a corner and ran toward them. Clat’Ha, in a blind panic, pulled her own blaster and opened fire. One Togorian screamed in pain, it’s huge fangs gaping and showing blood.
All of the Togorians returned fire with their own blasters. Qui-Gon dodged two bolts, then used his lightsaber to deflect three more.
Clat’Ha dropped low, screaming in rage. She was an able warrior, but they were outnumbered twenty to one. Qui-Gon vowed to do his best to keep her alive.
The door to the bridge was sealed shut, and burning hot. Obi-Wan could feel heat radiating from it as he tried to open it. A fire raged on the other side. Ignoring the pain, he tried to wedge his fingers in the crack and pull it open.
“It’s no use,” Si Treemba told him. “That’s a fire door. It locks if the bridge is burning.”
Obi-Wan backed from the door. The bridge must have taken a direct hit from one of the Togorian ships. But a hit from a heavy blaster or a proton torpedo would have done more than just start a fire. Most likely it had punched a hole in the hull.
It would be dangerous to try to open the door. There might only be a fire, but it could be worse. All the air could have escaped from the room.
He remembered the look on Qui-Gon’s face as the Jedi Master asked for his help. He couldn’t let him down this time.
Carefully, Obi-Wan struggled to calm himself, to use the Force. He could sense the latching mechanism, and it would take only a little effort to move it.
But then what? If he opened it, he could get pulled into space. Or toxic smoke could roil into the corridor and suffocate him, or the fire might spread into the halls.
He didn’t have a choice. He focused his attention and the door slid open.
Immediately, a stiff wind knocked him on the back. The breath left Obi-Wan’s lungs, and the sips air whisked pat him, sucked into the vacuum of space. Obi-Wan grabbed the door frame to keep from getting sucked out. It was all he could do to hold on. Behind him, Si Treemba got a handhold on the edge of a control box.
The bridge had indeed been hit. Air screamed out through a small round hole up above the view port.
“I have to plug that hole!” Obi-Wan shouted to Si Treemba.
But before Obi-Wan could move, Si Treemba dropped to the floor. He crawled across the bridge, reaching for handhold after handhold. Obi-Wan could only hang on to the door frame and watch. He couldn’t stop Si Treemba and he couldn’t help him.
Si Treemba reached for a spherical compass — the round metal object that served as a backup in case the main nav computer was hit or disabled. Fighting the screaming wind, Si Treemba stumbled to the hull and released the compass near the hole. The vacuum sucked it in, and immediately the rushing air quieted.
“Good Work!” Obi-Wan called as he ran to the pilot console. The captain and his copilot were still strapped into their seats, drowsy from loss of air. In another minute, they’d have suffocated. As it was, both men were unconscious. The room felt hot. Blaster fire had ripped through the navigation terminal, and metal slag pooled everywhere. But with so little air in the room, the fire had gone out.
Obi-Wan unbuckled the captain and moved him onto the floor. Then he looked at the control panel. There were so many lights and buttons. For a moment he was stunned, unsure what to do.
He looked up at the view port.
Togorian warships surrounded the Monument. A heavy cruiser that had been refitted as a gun ship edged nearer. Its shields had to be down for it to be so close.
A red light blinked insistently on Obi-Wan’s console. In a daze he realized that the forward proton torpedo tubes were loaded and armed. They were standard defensive gear for transports traveling in such a region. His targeting computer was down, but he aimed for the bridge of the gun ship without it.
His heart pounded. He was afraid of what he had to do. He hoped qui-Gon was tight, the pirates wouldn’t dare fire back with their own men aboard. Because if they did fire, they’d hit with everything they had.
“What are you going to do, Obi-Wan??” Si Treemba asked, holding on to the bridge console.
“Send a message to the Togorians,” Obi-Wan answered grimly. “We’re not dead yet!”
Reaching across the console, he launched the proton torpedoes.
* * *
