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"The noise is coming from over there," Obi-Wan pointed. He started to lead the way but Tray rushed past him.
"Flip?" she yelled. "Flip? Hang on, we're coming." The Vorzydiak girl ducked around a large piece of machinery. She moved quickly and easily in the cramped quarters and disappeared from view. But Obi-Wan could still hear her calling to her friend.
"Flip? Flip!" Tray's exclamation left no doubt that she had found the boy. Obi-Wan pushed past a pile of rubble to join them.
"Flip," Tray repeated more quietly. Together Obi-Wan and Tray heaved the piece of durasteel bracing that pi
Dropping down beside him, Tray took the boy's hand. She loosened his grip on the scrap of durasteel he'd been pounding on the brace as a distress signal.
Except for a large bruise on his forehead, Flip appeared to be okay.
But even though the brace was no longer holding him down, he couldn't get up. Watching him struggle to get enough air to speak, Obi-Wan realized that he was in bad shape. Flip coughed and winced in pain.
"Lie down," Obi-Wan instructed. "Don't try to move or speak. Then he turned to Tray. "Stay with him while I get the medics."
As Obi-Wan made his way back to the basement opening he heard Tray speaking softly.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered. A sob caught in her throat. "I was wrong."
Chapter 22
Tray stood as close as she could to the gravstretcher as Flip was slowly maneuvered out of the basement. Grath fidgeted nervously as they emerged. It was obvious to Qui-Gon that the boy wanted to talk to Flip, but that something was holding him back.
Qui-Gon glanced at his Padawan, mentally urging him to coax Grath forward. But Obi-Wan was already approaching the Freelie leader. Qui-Gon could not hear what Obi-Wan spoke into Grath's ear, but whatever it was gave him the courage to take a few steps toward the wounded boy.
Grath put his hand over Flip's and bent close to his face, speaking quietly. Although Flip could not respond, the look in his eyes said that all was forgiven. Grath and the younger boy touched their ante
"No!" Tray sobbed. She leaned over Flip's body, laying her head on his chest. "No," she whispered. "Not you."
Grath put a comforting hand on Tray's back. "It's not your fault, Tray," he said softly. "Flip was his own person, and made his own choices.
We were all doing what we thought needed to be done."
Tray looked up at Grath gratefully, her large eyes full of tears.
Then she dropped her head. "But our way was not the right one," she said.
"I do not think so, either," Grath said. "But now we are on another path. The path to peace."
Tray nodded slowly. Qui-Gon sensed that over time she would come to terms with Flip's death. But it would not happen quickly.
Grath gazed down at Flip's lifeless body, then leaned over and briefly said good-bye. Tray did the same, then several other Freelies. The medics covered Flip with a heavy gray cloth and loaded the gravstretcher into the transport.
Grath, Tray, and Obi-Wan stood silently together as the transport took off. Slowly more Freelies gathered around the trio, twining their arms and droning. The sound was soft at first, then grew louder and more intense. It was full of pain and sorrow. The young group had been through a lot, and would now need to cope with a death among them. It would not be easy, Qui-Gon knew. And there was still much work and challenge to come.
When the last of the injured Vorzydiaks had been taken to med units and the dust had finally settled, there was a moment of calm. But soon the moment of peace was over.
A large Vorzydiak laborer pointed an angry finger at the Freelies.
"Look at what you've done," he said, gesturing toward the rubble. "How can we work?"
"Have you no respect?" asked another angry laborer, shouting at the Freelies. "Have we taught you nothing?"
"You've taught us plenty," answered a voice from the cluster of Freelies. "You've taught us that work is all you care about. And that this is what we have to do to get your attention."
Very quickly the scene erupted into a giant shouting match between the Freelies and the laborers. Qui-Gon watched from the sidelines beside a handful of retirees. The argument was going nowhere, each side convinced that the other was at fault. Qui-Gon was about to take a step forward when Obi-Wan separated himself from the Freelies and moved to stand between the two groups.
"It is useless to lay blame," he said in a commanding voice. "I think you can all agree that the damage has been done." Obi-Wan spoke slowly and calmly, looking into the faces of laborers and Freelies alike. Qui-Gon felt a wave of pride well up within him. When had Obi-Wan become so wise?
"You must work together to heal the wounds that have shown themselves today." Obi-Wan directed his plea toward the laborers. But in spite of the truth in Obi-Wan's words, Qui-Gon could tell the adult Vorzydiaks were not convinced.
"My Padawan is right," Qui-Gon said as he joined Obi-Wan in the space between the factions. "The generations have much to offer one another." He placed an arm around Obi-Wan's shoulder. "In time you may understand that there is more to life than work and productivity. You do not have to agree all of the time, but if you take time to listen, to learn from one another, the work you do together will become infinitely more rewarding."
The words resonated within Qui-Gon as he spoke them. He hoped Obi-Wan understood that he was not just speaking about the Vorzydiaks. He was talking about the two of them. How much they taught each other. How happy it made them to work together, to depend on each other, to know that they would always be there for each other, even when they did not agree.
With a glance at his apprentice he saw that Obi-Wan understood. The two Jedi did not need ante
Qui-Gon's words reached some of the Vorzydiaks, too. But many remained unconvinced.
"Who are you to tell us what to do?" one of the laborers asked Qui- Gon and Obi-Wan angrily.
Chairman Port struggled to the front of the crowd and Grath rushed to help him. "You are right," Port said to the angry Vorzydiak. "The Jedi are not the ones who should solve our problems. Together we have created this disaster." He leaned heavily on his son. "And together we must work to resolve it."