Balog's probe droid veered again. Obi-Wan followed. There was only so much strategy a droid could have. Obi-Wan dived, anticipating the droid's move. At the same time, the Jedi droid fired at Balog's.

"To the left, Padawan!" Qui-Gon shouted.

Without looking, without thinking, Obi-Wan pulled the swoop to the left, barely missing blaster fire from his own droid. Instead of righting the swoop, he used the move to circle, then zoom up, coming at Balog's droid head on. He saw the red sensor blink as it computed his position. He had only seconds.

He rammed the engines into screaming full power and leaned off the swoop as far as he could, raising his lightsaber high. The lightsaber came down and cut the droid neatly in two. Sputtering and smoking, it fell to the ground below and crashed.

Obi-Wan turned the swoop again, this time heading for Balog's second droid. It had altered its flight plan to fly lower since it could not get a good reading on Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan kept to the droid's left, leaving Qui-Gon room to maneuver.

He glanced quickly at Qui-Gon, who nodded. They didn't need to compare notes; they had arrived at the same plan. Obi-Wan sent the swoop into a dive at the same time as Qui-Gon leaped. The two Jedi soared toward the droid, their lightsabers pulsating. Together, they timed their blows — Qui-Gon an upward sweep, Obi-Wan a downward thrust. The probe droid had no way to escape. It fell under both blows and disintegrated in a shower of metal and sparks.

But what Obi-Wan hadn't taken into account was their own probe droid.

It had reprogrammed itself to attack the second droid, and fired at the same time.

Obi-Wan felt a warning surge in the Force and quickly accelerated. He was fast enough to avoid getting hit but not fast enough to bring the swoop completely out of danger. He heard blaster fire pepper the body of the swoop. Immediately it began to smoke and sputter. Obi-Wan carefully guided it toward the ground.

Qui-Gon landed on his feet. Obi-Wan pulled up next to him.

Qui-Gon's face was grimy and streaked with sweat as he looked impassively at the swoop.

"I'm sorry, Master," Obi-Wan said disgustedly as he jumped off the damaged swoop. "Too much of my focus was on Balog's droid."

"It's all right," Qui-Gon said in his quietest voice. Obi-Wan knew the setback had upset him. "You did well. We still have our probe droid."

Qui-Gon bent to examine the swoop. Part of the control panel had fused together. After a moment he lifted his head. "It's worse than I thought. It will take some time to repair it. Or else we could leave it here. But then there will be no room to bring Tahl back…"

"Unless we capture Balog and his transport."

"Which we can't count on. Getting Tahl to safety is our first concern. We can't make another mistake."

Qui-Gon was still keeping his voice pitched low, but Obi-Wan could see the boiling frustration in his eyes. He wished he could replay the fight. He wished he had remembered to watch out for their own droid.

"Go on without me, Master," he said. "I'll stay and repair the swoop and catch up to you."

"No," Qui-Gon said. "I won't leave you alone in this area. Lenz told me that it is dangerous. There are Worker supporters and Absolute loyalists who often meet in violent clashes. Besides, Tahl is too vulnerable. She is trapped, and if Balog gets one second free, he could inject her again and possibly kill her. We need to do this together."

"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan said again.

Qui-Gon put a hand on his shoulder. "Enough. It is a delay. Nothing more. Get the repair kit from the speeder. We are wasting time."

Obi-Wan ran back to the landspeeder, his heart pounding. Qui-Gon had said all the right things to reassure him, but he didn't feel any better.

Repairing the swoop could take several hours. If this delay meant that Tahl was moved beyond their reach, he would feel responsible.

When he returned, he found Qui-Gon bent over the figure by the smoking fire. It was just a bundle of clothes wrapped in a thermal blanket.

Qui-Gon extracted a sensor.

"This is what confused the droid," he said. "It's an infrared sensor.

It thought Balog was still here. I had a feeling we would find this. It should have occurred to me earlier." Qui-Gon squinted at the empty landscape. "He knows we're following. When his probe droids fail to return, he'll know we won this battle. He will do something else to delay us. We must be on our guard."

Qui-Gon sat in the star map room at the Temple. The soft blue light surrounded him. The planet holograms swirled around him in the fantastic array of colors the galaxy provided. This was his favorite room at the Temple, yet recently he had not been drawn here. It was such a quiet place, and Qui-Gon had sought to cure his restlessness with activity rather than calm.

The door opened and Tahl entered, then stopped abruptly. Although she could not see him, she knew he was there. Once, he had asked her how she knew him immediately — was it his breathing pattern, his scent, some betrayal of movement? She had only smiled. "It is just you," she'd said.

But there was no smile today. He and Tahl had been arguing or avoiding each other for months. Whenever he returned from a mission, he would go to see her, as he always had. But their conversations did not go well. Lately, their arguments had circled around Tahl's treatment of Bant, her new Padawan. She was a kind teacher and respected Bant's unique abilities, but she often left her behind and went on short missions on her own.

"I'm sorry," she said stiffly. "You came here to be alone."

So she could tell that, too. "Stay, please," he said.

She sat close to him, tucking her knees up to her chin in a pose he hadn't seen since she was a young girl. "I'm disturbing your refuge. Well, sometimes you need disturbing, Qui-Gon."

"No doubt."

"You know, your calmness can be infuriating," Tahl said. "But this moodiness is worse. I'm trying not to take it personally, but either you avoid me or you smother me with concern because of my blindness or you attack me about how I am with my Padawan. If you're trying to test our friendship, you're doing a very good job."

She spoke lightly, but he knew she meant it.

What could he say? She presented a good front to others. Her extraordinary compensations for her blindness had convinced everyone that she had come to terms with it. He knew the truth. He'd known her since she was a girl. Tahl was such an independent spirit. Now she disliked having to ask for help or guidance. Yet there were times she needed it.