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“Perhaps they don’t think that way,” Ki-Adi-Mundi suggested. “Perhaps strategy of that sort doesn’t come into play.”

Qui-Gon looked at him. “But it does. I’ve already seen it in action.”

“Explain it to you Cohl will, when finally you confront him,” Yaddle said. “Until that time, resolve to yield or fight we must.”

Vergere’s willowy ears pricked up. She glanced knowingly at Qui-Gon, then cut her oblique eyes to the doorless portal that led to the temple’s adjoining room. Qui-Gon listened intently for a moment, then he and Ki-Adi-Mundi stood up and moved silently to either side of the gaping opening.

Yaddle, Depa, and Vergere began to converse again, as if nothing were amiss. Suddenly, Qui-Gon and Ki-Adi-Mundi reached into the doorway, tugging into the scant sunlight a humanoid who looked as if he, or perhaps she, had risen from the ground itself. The being’s thick skin was certainly impervious to wind, snow, or high-altitude solar radiation. Its four hands and bare feet were configured for digging and scooping, and its back was built for carrying loads. Eyes clearly capable of seeing in the dark were prominent in a mere suggestion of a face, lacking ears or nose, with a mouth barely suited to speech.

Held in the grip of the two Jedi, the biped began to babble nervously in an unknown tongue.

Depa got to her feet. “He speaks the traders tongue of the Senex sector Houses,” she said.

Yaddle nodded. “One of their allegedly flawed bio-engineered slaves, he is.”

The slave continued to speak, his gaze riveted on Depa.

She listened, then smiled gently and touched his shoulder. “It seems there’s an alternative we hadn’t considered,” she told everyone. “This one is offering to help us escape.”

Qui-Gon spoke to the slave. “By what method?”

Depa translated the reply. “By taking the route he took to reach us.”

The slave motioned to the adjoining room. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan lighted two glow sticks and ducked through the doorway. In the room’s rear wall, a hinged stone door, a meter thick, was ajar.

“Explored this place during the night, did you not?” Yaddle asked from behind them.

“We did, Master,” Obi-Wan said.

She shook her head in rebuke. “Careless, you are.”

The slave said something to Depa.

“This one says that this temple and the city are linked by underground tunnels. Some of the tunnels lead to the structures that surround the main plaza—the landing platform. Apparently, the plaza is lightly guarded, and this one believes that we could easily seize the starfighters parked there.”

Yaddle’s eyes narrowed somewhat. “Clearly what we are meant to do,” she said. “Less certain, I am, about our chances of leaving Asmeru.”

Tiin nodded decisively. “We’ll defer any decision until that option is in hand.”

In single file they moved through the hidden doorway into a cold and dank corridor. At the bottom of a steep flight of stairs, two more slaves, all but identical to the first, were waiting. Oily black and acrid smoke curled from the torches they carried.

The wide tunnel beyond the stairway was constructed of unmortared but precisely cut stones, some of which were perfectly curved to form vaulted supports. Shifts in the land had wrought damage to the ancients’ work. Lake water dripped through formerly solid joints and puddled on the stone floor. In several places, the walls were entirely encrusted in salt.

Depa continued to converse with the slave as they began to descend beneath the shallow lake.

“When the Nebula Front first arrived on Asmeru, they asked the slaves for shelter, and made no demands of them,” she explained. “But the later arrivals—the members this one calls ‘the soldiers’—forced the slaves to surrender their homes and provide food. The soldiers are as cruel as the Senex Lords, and they frequently clash with the Front’s more nonviolent founders about how things should be done. Fortunately, there are few commanding soldiers onworld just now.”

“Few soldiers,” Qui-Gon said to Obi-Wan. “That’s odd.”