Qui-Gon clutched his precious bag of dactyl in one hand and leaned close to the draigon’s neck. Using all og the power that he could muster, he whispered to the draigon.. “Friend help me. Take me to the caves. Hurry!”

The draigons that were hunting Whiphids heard the desperate shriek of Qui-Gon’s mount. They looked up and saw the man on its back. Now the draigons rose in a flock to give chase.

His mount flapped its wings and sped toward the caves. Qui-Gon wasn’t sure he could control the beast for long, for its small mind was cruel, and it was driven by ravenous hunger.

Grelb had been lamenting the death of his Whiphid henchmen when he glanced back toward the mountain. Draigons flocks there by the hundreds.

To his amazement, he saw Qui-Gon Jinn leap from his crevasse onto the back of a hunting draigon. The Jedi wheeled away, down toward the ship.

Grelb’s jaw dropped, and he dove for cover beneath a rock. There, he sat trembling. The Jedi was alive and heading back down the mountain. That meant only one thing.

Grelb was done for. Jemba would kill him with one blow as soon as he showed his face. Or perhaps he would kill him slowly as a lesson.

He had not clawed his way to a position of power, second only to Jemba, to let a Jedi defeat him. He had worked so hard! All that killing, all that torture of innocents, all that profit, it could not got to waste.

He would kill the Jedi himself, before Qui-Gon reached the caves and Jemba saw him.

As fast as he could, Grelb slithered among the rocks.

In the caves the Arconans were fading fast. Their bioluminescent eyes were growing dim, like fading embers from a fire.

Nearby, Clat’Ha and a couple of other Humans helped care of the failing Arconans. The usually fiery woman looked drained, worn out. There was really nothing they could do for the Arconans except make them comfortable.

Si Treemba hadn’t stirred in hours. He whispered to Obi-Wan that he was saving his strength. Yet Obi-Wan guessed his friend was really too weak to move.

Obi-Wan was desperate. He hated sitting by, unable to help, as his friend slowly died. A dozen times he had thought of running out to find Qui-Gon. But he resisted the urge. He had to stay by his friend’s side and protect him.

Obi-Wan rested his forehead on his knees in despair. He stared at the cave floor. What was the use of all his Jedi training? He had never felt so helpless. Nothing he had learned, nothing even Yoda had told him, could have prepared him for this moment. He had come to the end of everything — faith, hope, belief in himself. He had failed. All his life, he would remember this, his darkest moment.

Darkest moment…

A memory stirred in Obi-Wan. He remembered a twilight conference with Yoda. “What is my limit, and how will I know when I find it?” Obi-Wan had asked. “And if I am pushed to the last, where can I turn for help?”

That was when Yoda had told him that in moments of extreme danger, when he had done everything he could, he could use the Force to call another Jedi. “Close, you must be,” Yoda had said. “Connected.”

Qui-Gon may not have thought they had a connection. But Obi-Wan had to try.

In the dark cave, he reached out for the Force. He felt it pulse, and he drew in its energy. He reached out with his Jedi senses, tried to feel the Jedi Master’s presence. But Obi-Wan was a young man, and could not control the Force as he wanted. So silently, he simply called: Qui-Gon! Come back now! The Arconans will die without the dactyl.

From the mouth of the cavern, there was a great rumbling laugh. Obi-Wan looked up. He had called Qui-Gon with everything he had, but instead, he had roused Jemba the Hutt. So much for his abilities.

Jemba towered above them, his immense bulk filled the mouth of the cavern. “How are you all feeling? Well, I hope,” he taunted. “Well, in case you’re not, I have dactyl for sale! Dactyl for the needy. All it will cost is your lives! We have some here, and much more hidden elsewhere.”

All around the cave, Arconans began to moan. Some of them turned over and began to crawl painfully toward the Hutt with his offers of dactyl.

Disgust filled Obi-Wan. He leaped to his feet. “Stop this!” he shouted. Before he knew it, his lightsaber was out. He covered fifty meters of ground, leaping over dozens of poor Arconans, until he stood before the monstrous Hutt. He flashed the lightsaber overhead in a practice swing. The sluglike Hutt could be seen clearly in its light. A dozen other Hutts and Whiphids filled the tunnel behind him, but Jemba’s bulk would make it difficult for them to shoot.

“Well, well,” Jemba roared. “I’m glad to see that you are brave, even when your Master is not at your back!”

“Leave, Jemba,” Obi-Wan managed to say. He was choking on his anger, and because his voice was changing, it cracked comically.

At his back, Clat’Ha appeared, blaster drawn. “He’s right. You’re not welcome here.”

“Very well,” Jemba boomed. “If that’s what you want, I’ll gladly leave your friends to die.”

“Leave them the dactyl!” Obi-Wan ordered. He gripped the lightsaber, could feel its heat warming the heavy handle. The blade thrummed in the air, and his every muscle ached to leap forward and begin slicing. Sweat poured down Obi-Wan’s face, and he gritted his teeth.

“Isn’t this amusing!” Jemba rumbled to his cohorts. “He is not a Force used, this one. It’s in the ship’s records. He is nothing more than a farmer, a reject from the Jedi Temple.”

Obi-Wan fought back his rage at Jemba’s taunt. For long seconds he struggled as he sought within him a place of calm, of peace. Then he remembered Qui-Gon’s words. Jemba was not the true enemy. Anger was.

At last he found the calm he needed. He reached out with his senses to touch the Force. He felt it now, around him, in Jemba, in the stones, in the Arconans fading so fast behind him. He felt it and gave himself to it.

“Qui-Gon!” Obi-Wan shouted in surprise.

He’d been so focused on calling to the Jedi Master for help that he felt astonished to suddenly feel something else: Qui-Gon was calling to him for help.

“Jemba, get out of my way!” Obi-Wan said. “Qui-Gon is in danger!”

“Hah! Hah!” the great Hutt roared. He slapped his sides as if the laughing pained him. “Why does that not surprise me? Maybe it’s because I sent my men to kill him!”

But it wasn’t just Qui-Gon. Danger was coming to all of them. Qui-Gon wasn’t just calling for his help. He was trying to warn Obi-Wan.

“I mean it, Jemba,” Obi-Wan warned. “We’re all in trouble!”