“A man who puts himself in the path of danger deserves to face it alone,” Qui-Gon said sternly.

Obviously, Obi-Wan’s bravery did not impress him. Si Treemba quieted, shooting a look at Obi-Wan that said we tried.

“You deliberately disobeyed my order,” Qui-Gon said evenly.

“With respect, I am not under your charge, Qui-Gon Jinn,” Obi-Wan said quietly. “As you keep reminding me.”

Qui-Gon turned to him and stared for a moment. Obi-Wan couldn’t read what was behind that keen blue gaze. At last, he spoke. “Your meddling has only made things worse.”

“I made matters worse?” Obi-Wan asked. “What do you mean?”

“Yes, you have.” Qui-Gon said. His face remained impassive, his tone neutral. But now Obi-wan could sense his deep irritation. He had hoped to win the Jedi’s respect. Instead, he was looked at as a pest, not even worth of great anger. “You sneaked into Offworld territory, invaded their privacy, got caught, and had to fight your way out again. They will surely retaliate.”

“But it was worth the risk,” Obi-Wan tried. “If we had found the thermocoms —“

Clat’Ha interrupted him. “The thermocoms were found on hour ago, hidden in a barrel of lubricant. Whoever dropped them in there didn’t expect them to be found.”

Obi-Wan’s mouth snapped shut. Qui-Gon was right. He had risked the fragile peace on the ship for nothing.

“Can’t you see that this isn’t about thermocoms?” Qui-Gon said, trying to keep his voice even. “A Jedi must look at the larger picture. The reason for my order was because I wanted tensions to cool. I wanted to engender trust. How can the Offworlders trust the Jedi, if they find you sneaking around their territory? How can —“

The room suddenly shook, and there was a rumbling boom. Qui-Gon’s drink went sliding from the bar, and the cup crashed to the floor. Si Treemba pitched onto his belly. Warning sirens began to wail.

“What hit us?” Clat’Ha shouted.

But Obi-Wan knew that if they’d collided with another ship, or an asteroids, in hyperspace, it would have torn the ship apart. Distantly, Obi-Wan heard the whunk whunk whunk of the ship’s guns firing.

Qui-Gon strode to the window. His hand rested on his lightsaber. “Pirates,” he announced.

Qui-Gon raced for the bridge, down the main corridors. Obi-Wan, Si Treemba, and Clat’Ha followed at a dead run. All around the ship, Arconans were whining in terror — making the strange hissing sound of their kind. They backed into their rooms and locked their doors.

Through the grates under the floor Qui-Gon could hear the grind of the generators charging the ships shields. Meanwhile, the steady whunk whunk sound continued as blasters fired.

He thought he knew what had happened. Pirates sometimes mined the shipping lanes. When the ship hit a mine, the hyperdrive blew, and the ship would drop back out of hyperspace.

As it did, the pirates would open fire, destroying the ship’s weapons and engines so swiftly that unwary travelers seldom had time to react.

Then the pirates would send boarding parties out to strip anything they could from their victims.

A miner transport like the Monument didn’t have much worth stealing, but the pirates wouldn’t know that — not until they’d blown it to pieces and searched through the rubble.

The floor shuddered under the impact of another explosion. As the ship twisted to its side, Qui-Gon rounded a corner. Ahead was a transparisteel view port. Through it, he could see five Togorian warships, all shaped like red birds of prey. Two screamed past his port. Green bolts of blaster fire erupted from the warships, slamming into the Monument. Metal shrieked in protest. The corridors filled with greasy smoke.

The Monument’s guns had gone silent. Now, Qui-Gon could see why — the gun turrets had been blown away. Buts of burning slag lit up like glowing stars where the turrets had once stood.

The Monument floated dead in space. Though fire alarms sounded, no one on the bridge was shouting orders. Now a Togorian cruiser raced toward the ship.

Qui-Gon stood, watching helplessly as the cruiser approached. There were times when he wished that he was not alone, times when he wished he had not lost his last Padawan, Xanatos.

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon called. Even though he did not fully trust the boy, he didn’t see any other choice. They need some kind of plan, and they all had to work together if they hoped to survive. “The pirates are getting ready to board,” he said crisply. “I’ll try to stop them. Go to the bridge and see if the crew is alive. If they are not, I want you to pilot this ship out of here.”

Qui-Gon stared hard at the boy. He was asking a lot, he knew. He knew that as a Jedi student, Obi-Wan had flown a few ships in simulation, and most likely piloted some cloud cars around Coruscant. But he’s never piloted a ship like this, and he’d never been in battle.

“I can fight alongside you,” Obi-Wan protested.

Qui-Gon turned and grasped the boy by both elbows. “Listen to me. You must obey this time. Trust my judgement. I can hold back the pirates, but we’ll all die if the ship remains dead in space. Don’t worry about where to go. Just fly anywhere. Once the pirates start boarding, their friends won’t be able to fire on us for fear of killing their leaders. Go now. Fly.”

Obi-Wan nodded. Qui-Gon could see the uncertainty in the boy’s eyes. Qui-Gon wasn’t sure if they boy would be able to pilot the ship, either.

But then again, he wasn’t sure he himself could hold off the pirates.

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.