"I saw graffiti on walls about the Young," Obi-Wan said. "Are you Melida or Daan?"

Cerasi shook her head. "We are everyone," she said, lifting her chin proudly.

"And you want the war to stop?" Qui-Gon asked.

"There is a cease-fire," Obi-Wan pointed out.

Nield waved his hand. "The war will start again. Tomorrow, next week-it always does. Even the oldest among the elders don't remember what the original grievance was. They don't remember why the war began. They only remember the battles. They keep archives and go once a week to remind each other of the blood that has been spilled. They used to make us go, too."

"The Halls of Evidence," Obi-Wan said, nodding.

"Yes, they pour money into those halls while the cities decay around us," Nield said contemptuously. "While the children starve and the ill die for lack of med supplies. Both Melida and Daan use up huge tracts of land while there is no land left to farm, no land left that has not been scarred by war or taken up by the preparation for more war."

"Yet they go on fighting," Cerasi put in. "The hatred never stops."

"And who do our glorious leaders defend?" Nield asked. "Only the dead." He gestured at the tombs. "The dead are everywhere on Melida/ Daan. We have no s.p.a.ces left to put them. This is an old burial ground, and there are many others above us. The Young are for the living.

It is up to us to take back the planet. The middle generation is gone - our parents are dead. Any who are left have joined with the elders to keep on fighting. Right now the tactics are sniping and sabotage, since most of the weaponry and ammunition were depleted in the last great battle."

"There are hardly any starfighters left," Cerasi told them. "Both the Melida and the Daan are pouring whatever money they have into factories to make more weapons. They are forcing children to work in them. They are forcing anyone over fourteen to join the army. That's why we came underground. It was either this or die."

Obi-Wan gazed around the vault at the faces of the boys and girls around him. From what he had seen in his short time on the planet, he knew that Nield and Cerasi were right The elders were destroying the planet. The time-honored moral law of improving a world for future generations did not hold here. Even children were sacrificed to hatred.

Obi-Wan admired them for fighting back.

"That's why we saved you from Wehutti," Nield explained. "The War Council was planning to use the two of you as hostages to force the Jedi Council to back a Melida government.

They hoped to force you to speak on their behalf in the Senate on Coruscant."

"Then he does not know the Jedi," Qui-Gon remarked.

A slender boy spoke up. "He doesn't know anything," he said in a joking tone. "He's a Melida."

Nield sprang forward like a shot from a blaster rifle. He wrapped two hands around the boy's neck and picked him up off the floor. The boy's feet flailed out as Nield squeezed his throat. The boy's eyes widened in a desperate plea. He let out an anguished croaking noise, trying to get air into his lungs. Nield squeezed harder.

Qui-Gon took a step forward, but at that moment Nield loosened his grip. The boy fell to the floor, gasping.

"No talk like that here," Nield said. "Ever. We are everyone.

Towan, you'll sleep for three days in Drain Two for that."

The boy nodded, his hands on his throat protectively, trying to gasp in air. No one looked at him as he slinked to the back of the group and disappeared into the shadows.

"We will help you locate Tahl," Nield said, calmly returning to the conversation as though nothing had happened. "But you must help us, too."

Obi-Wan had to stop himself from crying out, Of course we will help you! It was up to his Master to do that. Never in any mission had he met a cause that seemed so just. They had been sent here to rescue Tahl, but surely if they could continue her mission as guardian of peace they should do so. It was in the galaxy's best interest to stabilize the planet. Nield was offering them a chance to do this as well as their primary mission. He waited for Qui-Gon to speak. All the faces in the vault turned expectantly to the tall, rugged Jedi Knight.

"We have spoken to the Melida," Qui-Gon said cautiously. "We have spoken to you. But we have not received a complete picture of what goes on here. I cannot promise you help until I have seen something of the Daan."

It took a moment for Qui-Gon's words to sink in. Then Nield's face flushed with anger. "You want to see something of the Daan?" he asked challengingly. "I am a Daan. Come with me. I'll show you that the Daan are no better than the Melida. And no worse."

Cerasi led the way through the tunnels again, away from the direction they had come in, straight into Daan territory.

"Cerasi knows every step of these tunnels," Nield explained as they followed behind her. His earlier anger had pa.s.sed as quickly as it had come. "She was the first to come down here to live."

"Why did she leave her life above ground?" Qui-Gon asked.

"She saw the way things are, as I did," Nield answered. "There is no life for us up there. Down here we have muck and filth, but we have hope." His teeth gleamed in the darkness as he smiled. "It may seem strange to you, but we're happier here."

"It's not strange at all," Obi-Wan said.

"Was it the Young who sh.o.r.ed up the tun- nels?" Qui-Gon asked. "The work seems recent."

Nield nodded before squeezing through a small opening, then waited for them to enter the new tunnel. "We did it bit by bit, piece by piece.

The tunnels were built during the Eighteenth Battle of Zehava. The Daan expanded the water and sewage tunnels and broke through into the underground burial vaults from the Tenth War, working secretly at night to enter the Melida sector. That's when the city was divided between north and south. They won that battle."

"And then the Nineteenth Battle of Zehava was fought barely six months later," Cerasi said, overhearing them. "The battles never stop.

They never will, unless we act."

Cerasi paused. Light filtered down from a crack in the stone overhead. "Here."

Qui-Gon eyed the curved ceiling of the tunnel. "Where?"

Cerasi undipped a ring of tension cord from her belt. She expertly tossed the cord above and, with a flicking motion of her wrist, wrapped it around a hook embedded in the mortar of the ceiling. Cerasi tested it, then glanced at Qui-Gon and flashed him a grin. "Don't worry, it will even hold you."

She scrambled up the cord, hand over hand.

When she had almost reached the top, she swung out from the cord and hooked her fingers into the crack in the stone. She remained there, pressing her face against the crack.

"All clear," she called down softly. She pushed off and swung hard, tilting her body back until she was almost upside down. Using her momentum, she kicked at the stone with her feet. It dislodged, and with her next swing, she gave it a more gentle kick to move it out of the way.

Qui-Gon heard a thud as the stone hit the ground overhead. On her next swing, Cerasi easily hooked her feet into the opening, then bent her body to swing herself out.

The whole operation had taken maybe thirty seconds. Qui-Gon admired Cerasi's agility and strength.

She popped her head back down. "Nothing to it."

One by one, the remaining three pulled themselves up the cord and then swung out of the opening. They were not quite as graceful and swift as Cerasi, but they made it.

Qui-Gon found himself in a storeroom located in a service building in back of an abandoned estate. It was a clever place to hide an entrance to the tunnels.

Now Nield led the way, since he was familiar with the Daan sector.

"Don't worry," he told the Jedi. "I'm a Daan, and many know me here. You're safer in Daan territory. At least the Daan don't want to take you hostage."

Now that Qui-Gon had more time, he was able to study the Daan sector more closely. It didn't seem that much different than the Inner Hub. Abandoned, bombed-out buildings. Barricades. Food shortages in the shops. And everywhere people going about their daily lives with old and ragged weapons strapped to chests, hips, and ankles. He did not see many faces younger than sixty or older than twenty.

"This used to be a beautiful city," Nield remarked, sadness in his voice. "I've seen drawings and hologram recreations. It's been completely rebuilt seven times. When I was very young, I remember trees and blossoms and even a museum that had nothing to do with the dead."

"There were no barricades for five years," Cerasi said softly.

"Daans and Melidas mixed in both sectors. In some neighborhoods they even lived side by side. Then the Twenty-Fifth Battle of Zehava began."

"What about your parents, Cerasi?" Obi-Wan asked.

Cerasi's expression was hard for Qui-Gon to read. She seemed to struggle with the decision to share even a part of her story. "Their hatred destroyed them, like so many others. My mother died while conducting a sniper raid. My brother was sent to the country to work in a munitions factory, I have not heard a word from him since."

"And your father?"

Cerasi's face smoothed out, became bland. "He is dead," she said colorlessly.

A story there, Qui-Gon thought. Each of the Young, he realized, would have a similar one, full of sorrow and tragedy, of parents lost too soon, families fractured. That was the bond between them.

Ahead, Qui-Gon saw a glimpse of blue water. They walked down a wide boulevard, leaping over large holes where proton torpedoes had fallen.

"This is Lake Weir," Nield said. "I used to come swimming here when I was little. Now you'll see what the Daan have done."

As they drew closer, the patch of blue Qui-Gon had glimpsed between two buildings widened, and he could see that the lake was quite large. It would have been a beautiful expanse, except for the low, ma.s.sive ebony stone building that floated slightly above the water by repulsor-posts.

"Another Hall of Evidence," Nield said, disgusted. "This was the last remaining body of water within a thousand kilometers. Now no one can enjoy it but the dead."

The wind ruffled Nield's hair as he gazed at the scene. His disgusted look softened to one of sadness, and Qui-Gon imagined that a memory of one of those swim& had surfaced. He was suddenly struck by how young Nield looked. Underground, his manner had made him seem older than Obi-Wan, but they were about the same age.

Qui-Gon gave a quick glance at Cerasi. Her slender, pretty face was pale, almost drawn, but he could still see the young child she'd once been. They were all so young, he thought in sorrow. Too young for the task they'd set themselves - to right centuries of wrong, to save a world cracked by tension and strife.

"Come," Nield said. "Let's see the happy dead speak."

He strode forward* and they followed. He entered the stone door and walked quickly down the aisles, past monument after monument. He activated hologram after hologram but did not stop to hear their tales.

Their voices filled the huge chamber, echoing with their stories of revenge and hatred. Nield began to run, pressing globe after globe to activate the ghosts.

Finally, he stopped in front of the last holo- gram he'd activated. It was a tall man with shoulder-length hair, wearing armor.

"I am Micae, son of Terandi of Garth, from the North Country," the hologram said. "I was but a boy when the Melida invaded Garth and herded my people into camps. There, many died, including -"

"And why did the Melida do that, you fool?" Nield mocked the figure, drowning out the list of the dead. "Perhaps because the Daan soldiers in the North Country attacked the Melida settlements without warning, killing hundreds?"

The warrior's tale went on. "- and my mother died that day without ever being reunited with my father. My father died in the great Battle of the Plains, avenging the great wrong of the Melida during the Battle of the North -"

"-Which had taken place a century before!" Nield scoffed.

"- and today I go to battle with my three sons. My youngest son is too young to join us. I fight today so that he may never have to fight -"

"Fat chance!" Nield jeered.

"We seek justice, not vengeance. And that is why I know we shall triumph." The warrior raised his fist, then opened it in a gesture of peace.

"Liars and fools!" Nield shouted. He turned abruptly away from the hologram. "Let's get out of here. I can't bear their stupid voices any more."

They walked out into the open air. Gray clouds were ma.s.sing overhead, and the water looked almost as black as the great hall that floated above it, casting a long shadow. It was hard to tell where the building ended and the water began.

"Do you see?" Nield demanded of Qui-Gon. "They will never stop. The Young are this world's only hope. I know the Jedi are wise. You must see that our cause is just. Don't we deserve a chance?"

Nield's golden eyes burned with fervor. Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan.

He saw that the boy had been not only moved by Nield's words, but deeply stirred.

That made him uneasy. Though a Jedi's heart could be touched, it was his duty to remain unbiased and calm. The situation here was complicated and volatile. They would need clear heads to navigate it. His instinct told him it was better not to take sides.

But there was the question of Tahl. Rescue was their primary mission. Nield had promised his help. Could he deliver on his promise?

"I know where Tahl is being held," Nield said, almost as though he'd read Qui-Gon's mind. "She is alive."

"You can get us to this place?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Cerasi can," Nield said. "It is heavily guarded. But I have a plan to take care of that. While you are rescuing Tahl, the Young will launch a surprise attack."

"I am not sure how surprising an attack would be, given that the Melida know that the Jedi are on the loose," Qui-Gon said. "They will be expecting it."

"But they will not be expecting a Daan attack."

"Are the Daan planning to attack?" Obi-Wan asked.

"No," Nield answered. "But that doesn't mean the Melida can't think they are. Our plan is to stage diversionary attacks in both the Melida and Daan sectors. The Melida will think that the Daan are attacking and send their forces out into the streets to defend themselves. The Daan will do the same. I promise you confusion and chaos. Then you can go after Tahl."

"But you have no weapons," Obi-Wan said. "How do you expect to attack?"

"We have a plan," Nield said mysteriously. "All we ask of you is to stay in the vault and not contact the Melida. Right now they are search- ing for you everywhere. It is better that their forces be busy with that ch.o.r.e so that we can do our work."

"So you see how easy we're making this for you?" Cerasi asked. "All we ask is that you do nothing."

"We'll take care of the diversion," Nield continued. "You take care of Tahl. I also know that her wounds were severe. She needs medical attention."

Annoyed, Qui-Gon gazed out at the water to buy time. He knew Nield was blackmailing him, forcing him to bend to his wishes so that Qui-Gon could fulfill his mission. He had been out-maneuvered by a child.

And Obi-Wan, he saw, was enjoying it. Another curl of apprehension registered along his spine.

He turned back to Nield and Cerasi. "All right," he said. "Obi-Wan and I will wait for you to bring us to Tahl. Our primary objective is her rescue. After that, you're on your own. Is that good enough?"

Nield grinned. "It is all we need."

Back at the tunnel, preparations began. Nield and Cerasi huddled with the rest of the Young, deep in conversation. Obi-Wan sat quietly at the table, watching them. The determination on their faces told him that whatever the outcome, the Daan and the Melida were both in for a big surprise at dawn the next day.

Qui-Gon paced on the other side of the room, displaying a rare show of impatience.

"If you need help with strategy-" he began.