The officer in charge did not appear the least bit impressed when Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan stood before him and introduced themselves. His hard-boiled 'what-in-tarnation-is-going-on-around-here?' stance did not soften while they explained they were Jedi Knights on a mission authorized by the government of Corellia. But then, after a minute of Qui-Gon's persuasive charm, he dropped the rigid attitude and even agreed to help them. He strolled toward the crawler and flipped up his dark visor to regard the occupants.
" 'Lo, Hile," greeted Velk with a casual wave and a nod, all the while wanting to sink out of sight below the window. For once he wished he didn't know nearly everyone in town. And he wished this was anyone but the most stiff-necked, no-nonsense cop in Alcotis. Valia said nothing, and did what she had done the last time she was stopped in a vehicle by police. She smiled sweetly and groaned inwardly.
"Quite a mess back there," the officer drawled.
"Yep," Velk drawled back. "Uhhh, sorry about that."
"Don't you worry. Shook everyone up a bit, but no one hurt badly. Main thing now is to catch that speeder and the man driving it," he said with a nod. "You be careful now, and stick to the road." He flicked a smile and a wink at Valia, and moved away to reboard his speeder. Velk and Valia were still exchanging disbelieving smiles as Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan reentered the crawler cab. "How did you...?"
"Hypnotism," answered Obi-Wan.
"Go," Qui-Gon said simply.
They crossed the rest of the distance to the space port outbuildings, followed by the police speeders. Rounding a large warehouse corner, Qui-Gon told Valia to stop.
"Now what?" asked Velk.
"We search on foot," Qui-Gon answered, jumping out of the cab. He turned to help Valia down.
"They're loading fruit in cargo bins over that way," Velk supplied in response to the Jedi's intent focus in the direction of the noise.
Qui-Gon split them up, directing Obi-Wan and Velk in one direction, and gesturing for Valia to follow him, and heading the other way. The few police scattered in their own directions. Valia ran to keep up with him as he quickly searched along each warehouse and hangar, and inside them. He hesitated when they came to an especially large warehouse. The sounds of freelas being transferred from loaded orchard cars into cargo bins rattled off the metal walls. They would be able to cover the building faster if they split up, and she was familiar with this area.
"Come get me if you see anything," he told her shortly, pointing toward one end of the large warehouse. "I'll take the other side." Valia watched him trot toward the other end of the building, his long stride eating up the distance. There was so much noise, she doubted if he would hear her shout for him if she had to. They were in the middle of packing up a farm's harvested fruit and loading into storage before transferring it on an outbound cargo ship. She remembered being with her father in these buildings as a child several times before, overseeing this operation.
"Hey pretty missy, you lost?" An inspector hailed her as she walked into the warehouse entrance. He was leaning against a wall indolently watching the progress of the loading. Two blocky droids were involved with the actual process. Valia decided she didn't have time to be annoyed at his greeting, or at the lazy up and down look he blatantly gave her. She explained who she was looking for. Had he seen a speeder, or the man driving it? He shook his head 'no', but offered to keep an eye out for her. Valia tossed him a curt thanks, and walked out the door, determined not to give the man a dirty look as his eyes intently followed her.
She saw Qui-Gon approaching around the other side of the building. "No luck in there," she gestured toward the doorway.
"I'm not so sure," said Qui-Gon under his breath. His eyes scanned the warehouse quickly. His gaze went up, flicking about to take in everything. He 'd seen a furtive movement, not on the ground but above, on top of one of the dozen or so fruit storage bins lined up, waiting to be loaded into the bay of a cargo ship. Each was about the size of Valia's sitting room in her apartment. Temperature and humidity-controlled inside, they contained light antigravitational fields to keep the fragile fruit suspended to prevent damage during bulk shipping to their destinations. Valia had briefly told him about the process the day they had arrived on Nyme'.
Qui-Gon casually strolled into the warehouse, toward the shipping chambers, appearing for all the world as if he belonged here. The inspector gave him a mildly curious look. The machines went back to work. The man seemed more interested at the prospect of inspecting Valia's curves again.
Valia stood uncertainly in the doorway. Now there were two men there, where there had been one. Her breath caught. There was the face of the man they were looking for. Though she hadn't seen it in the flesh in years, and recently only in a scratchy holo, the sight of it jolted her stomach. He looked so much older, harder. Her first thought was to call out to Qui-Gon, who was now out of sight somewhere between containers. Then she realized she could detain him.
"Jax Dekkar!" She put on her sunniest smile and walked toward him, arms outstretched. "How many years has it been?" she gushed.
Jax's startled look shifted to one of wariness and fake-looking pleasure. "Yeah...Valia, right?"
"Why yes, you old rogue, you. How could you forget your very own neighbor?" She wondered how long she was going to have to keep this up. She didn't know if it would work, but she sent out a mental scream in the hope Qui-Gon would hear it. She didn't know Jax very well, since she had largely ignored him in favor of his younger brother, so she would run out of things to talk about soon.
She managed to keep up a steady stream of chatter, sweetly scolding him for not coming to the party at the Traxis house the night before, and peppering him with questions about what he had been supposedly doing all these years. All the while, she stood in front of him in case he had been thinking of slipping out the door. For the moment he talked with her, acting as though it was quite normal for him to drop in on his homeworld and be recognized.
The two droids were busy positioning a conveyor to the nearest cargo chamber. Valia kept Jax occupied despite the noise of an arriving orchard crawler with more full cars of freelas. Soon freelas were moving on the conveyor and filling the chamber. The rattle of the machinery was making it hard to have a conversation, and Valia read the impatience in Jax's face to get rid of her. Where was Qui-Gon?
Valia stepped in front of Jax as he tried to politely end the conversation and walk past her. Jax stopped and fixed her with a look that sounded warning alarms in her head. He exchanged a quick sidelong look with the other man. Now a chill skittered up her spine as her street-sense kicked in. They were considering her as a quick bit of entertainment. He moved quickly to grab her, and it took her far too long to realize the danger she had been in getting this close to him. She aimed sharp knee to his crotch. It never connected, and the last thing she remembered thinking was calling herself an idiot. A vicious backhand with his forearm stunned her as it caught her across the mouth. It may have been a very slight hesitation to hit a woman or someone he knew, or reluctance to make an unnecessary kill, but the blow that could have struck her windpipe went high.
There was a brown and tan blur and a flash of green as a lightsaber was drawn. Qui-Gon sprang from the top of the shipping container with a growl, where he had waited for a tortured lifetime, listening to Valia's inventive catching up on old times. He forced her pain out of his mind and was ready to do battle before he hit the ground. He landed in front of Jax, who responded by drawing a blaster from within his jacket. Qui-Gon swung the saber blade and the front half of the weapon fell to the dirt of the warehouse floor, edges glowing. Jax jerked his hand back, dropping the rest of the weapon, his knuckles warm from the pass of the blade.
The man who was supposedly the loading inspector grabbed Valia as she spun and crumpled from the rough blow. He dragged her and bodily threw her onto the conveyor. Her head struck the edge of it. She flailed amid the fruit, her head weakly lolling. The belt carried her toward the open slot in the side of the half-filled container, and dumped her in. The droids made uncertain movements, clicking and rapidly communicating their confusion in beeping machine-speak. Unsophisticated models, their fuzzy-logic circuits could not quite contain the concept of rescuing an organic in danger, or deal with others in combat. They followed the shouted order to keep loading from the inspector. The logic of what they were programmed to do won out in the end, and they continued to perform their function of overseeing the loading of the cargo bin with fruit.
Qui-Gon was aware of what was happening to Valia but he mechanically blocked it out, as well as her physical pain. He could feel it, and it crushed part of him to push it away. He had two men advancing on him. Jax had pulled a long vibroblade from the side of his boot, and the so-called inspector had seized a long pole tipped with a hook from a wall. What its true function was, Qui-Gon was not going to take the time to guess because it was making a surprisingly dangerous weapon in the hands of the man. He'd had weapons training, that much was obvious. The long staff whistled as it swung at him.
There was a mad glint in Jax's eye as he advanced fearlessly on Qui-Gon with the knife. He feinted with the blade and darted his hand into the side of his other boot, and flicked out a smaller, throwing blade. With a flick of his wrist he threw it at Qui-Gon's face. Qui-Gon easily ducked it and it pierced the material of the wall behind him with a sharp thunk.
"I have more where that came from, Jedi," he said with confident chuckle. For there was no mistaking what Qui-Gon was now, and it was clear Jax was on constant vigil for pursuit and capture. His constant, tense readiness was unleashing itself now at Qui-Gon, who watched and studied him with lightning reflexes.
"You need to take them out to use them," Qui-Gon replied, fending him off with his saber blade and leaping over the pole that swung at his legs from behind.
"That I can oblige," Jax said. He flicked his forearm so that a wicked-looking black throwing star fell from his sleeve into his hand. He let it fly, and Qui-Gon made a quick move with his saber to destroy it. Five more of the stars came whistling from their concealment, either sailing past Qui-Gon as he dodged them, or vaporized by his blade. The hooked pole nearly caught his boots several times, but he leaped out of the way, or kicked it aside.
"The twat next door will die while you dance with me," Jax taunted, hoping to distract Qui-Gon. He said nothing, ignoring the taunt, concentrating on maneuvering Jax against a wall so he could pin him down. Their goal was to capture him, to avoid killing him. "I saw her hit that empty head of hers pretty hard. Maybe she's already dead, hmm?" Qui-Gon remained silent. An opponent who talked too much was overconfident or desperate, and set himself up for distractions. He knew Valia was not even close to being dead, he felt the pulse of her life-force, but he could not afford to think about her just yet. She was actually safer where she was at the moment.
The man with the pole was a confounded nuisance. Qui-Gon twisted around, keeping his awareness on Jax, and reached out a long arm and grabbed the pole, ignoring the jarring blow as it slapped his palm painfully. He jerked the weapon toward himself, and then thrust it sharply at the man, aiming the end of it directly at his diaphragm. The man made a sickening bark as his breath was knocked out of him, and he collapsed to his knees. Qui-Gon flung the pole atop a shipping container so it would be out of reach. He brought his arm back down and sent the man flying out the warehouse door with a Force blow. He tumbled in the dirt, subdued and out of the fight. Now only his quarry remained to be dealt with.
Qui-Gon saw the knife aimed at his groin for a deadly slash as he turned back to face Jax. The length of his saber kept Jax from following through. But throwing things was a favorite habit of his, and the knife came blade-first through the air at Qui-Gon. He dodged it. Mostly. The blade tip sunk deeply into the muscle of his outer thigh. The weight of the hilt caused the knife to twist in his flesh and drop. Qui-Gon destroyed the weapon with a flick of his saber. He let the wave of pain slam into him, wash over and through him. Then he closed his mind to it. He ignored the blood soaking his trousers and trickling into his boot. The thought came to him that the blade might be poisoned. He had studied all the available information on Relf/Jax, and the style of the man would be consistent with that of the teachers he had learned under. There were those in the galaxy who preserved ancient fighting techniques and dark arts with blades and poisons with a fanaticism that bordered on worship. The man facing him had been taught well by those experts. He pushed aside the idea of poison, and the fear with it.
"Bring me down if you can, Jedi," Jax said arrogantly, when he saw his blade had not quite hit his mark. "But the greater battle goes on, with or without me."
All the while, the warehouse droids had been steadily filling the shipping container with freelas. Qui-Gon could see the level of the fruit rising inside, and could see no sign of Valia. He felt her presence more dimly now. But at once he felt the strong surging presence of Obi-Wan. Relief flooded through him. He did not need to call out to him with the Force. There he stood, framed by the light of the open far end of the warehouse. He ran toward them, his lightsaber springing to bright, blue life. Jax saw the new opponent coming, and decided to give up the fight. He turned to run behind the cargo container. Hidden on the other side of it, beneath old tarps and crates was the speeder. Without bothering to clear all the camouflaging debris from it, he exploded free of concealment. He drove the speeder around the corner of the container and down the center of the warehouse toward the other end. Obi-Wan barely leaped up out of the way in time. He brought his saber down as he somersaulted in the air, and slashed it through the rear of the escaping vehicle. It did little to slow the speeder. Obi-Wan grunted in frustration as he landed. The speeder tilted, dragging on the ground. It swerved, leaving a trail of smoke, and careened out of the warehouse.
Obi-Wan quickly took in his master's condition, and would have run to him, but the message in Qui-Gon's eyes and the shake of his head was clear and strong.
"I'm all right. Go, catch him!" he shouted. Obi-Wan nodded and turned to run out of the warehouse.
"Stop the loading," Qui-Gon ordered the two droids, limping over to the cargo container. Fresh blood seeped out of the wound with every step he took. He leaned against the container and looked into the loading opening. There was no sign of Valia in the darkness. He paused, knowing he would probably have to go in there and pull her out. The man who had posed as the warehouse worker still lay unconscious on the ground just outside. It was never wise to turn your back on an adversary, no matter how harmless the situation seemed. The thought seemed a little hazy and distant to Qui-Gon. He made his decision and painfully climbed into the conveyor entrance.
The chamber was full of floating freelas. They were over his head as he dropped inside the chamber, wincing. He pushed them out of his path, only to have more float in his way. He found he was able to easily but slowly move through them. "Lia," he called out, his voice strangely rebounding off the suspended fruit and the walls of the container.
"Over here." He heard a weak voice. He pushed his way to where the voice had come from. There she was, in a corner. She had wisely stayed hidden, able to hear the commotion of fighting outside the container. He bent to her, surprised at the sudden wave of dizziness that washed through him. Surely he had not lost that much blood.
"Are you all right?" he asked anxiously, pulling her to her feet.
"I think...I think so. I don't think anything is broken. Just banged up pretty good, that's all." She had trouble forming the words with her injured mouth.
"That was a very courageous thing you did," he told her, referring to the way she had waylaid Jax. "And extremely foolhardy," he added with a trace of sharpness.
"Yo' 'elcome," she snapped through painfully swelling lips.
"Oh, Lia..." Qui-Gon carefully touched her face. She flinched at his touch, the flesh was already that tender. She'd probably had a couple of teeth loosened, too. An unbidden image of Jax's head rolling on the floor alongside his severed blaster came to his mind. How easy for him it would have been to make that so, had he given in to a vengeful anger that still thundered on the edges of his mind. For an instant it nearly overcame him. His hands were trembling. He stilled them on her shoulders. He sighed and guided her toward the opening. "Come now, let's get out of here." He winced as he put weight on his cut leg. Valia turned at the sharp intake of breath and the faltering in his step.
"You're hurt," she said, trying to push aside the fruit to see him better in the dim light.
"A little cut in the leg. I'll be fine," he said, surprised once more at the dizziness he felt and the fuzziness in his thinking. Had that blade been poisoned?
All at once, the sound of machinery restarting roared into the container. Qui-Gon quickly pushed Valia toward the opening, preparing to boost her up and out. The conveyor stopped and withdrew. They got a glimpse of the dutiful droids going about their business, finishing their loading duties. It was the last thing they saw before the slot in the side of the container closed with a metallic thud, and air seals closed with a hiss.
"No!" Valia shouted and pounded on the wall with her fist.