Obi-Wan sprang forward to help his Master, and Adi and Siri began to move around him, trying to see in the windows by the door.

"There appear to be" — Adi started as darts flew out of a concealed panel — "booby traps."

"Enough of this," Qui-Gon muttered. "There isn't time." He unsheathed his lightsaber and cut a hole in the door.

An oily, slick substance rolled out and covered the floor, splashing on Qui-Gon. He looked down at his soiled boots.

Blaster fire suddenly pinged from the lift tube. Qui-Gon swung his lightsaber to deflect it, not moving an inch. "We're Jedi!" he thundered. "Stop this! There's no time!" The blaster fire stopped.

The door of the lift tube was cracked slightly, the seam open just enough to give someone hiding a narrow view into the room. It opened a few more centimeters.

A boy poked his head out. His hair was red and stuck up in tufts all over his head. His eyes were a vivid green. His narrow, pointed nose twitched. Next to him were a man and woman. They each held blasters, but slowly lowered them as they saw Qui-Gon's lightsaber.

"We didn't know," the woman said.

Qui-Gon sheathed his lightsaber. "We understand."

"I am Nelia Fry. This is my husband, Grove. And this is Taly."

The boy pointed to the floor. "If you move, you'll slip. That's synthetic oil mixed with soap. My own recipe."

"I won't slip," Qui-Gon said, just as he took a step and slipped sideways. He regained his balance, slipped again, and slid into the lift tube door. His hands slapped against it and his aggrieved face was now centimeters from Talesan's.