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General comments: When I make one of these, I tend to quote sections of the analyzed text that can be pretty long sometimes and I can be downright verbose with my commentary. Other contributors are welcome to refine, double-check and otherwise improve this.

Mini-Review: Don't buy it. This book has some downright disturbing implications, particularly considering the age of the target audience, and finishing it was quite a chore.

Star Wars
Jedi Apprentice I
The Rising Force
by Dave Wolverton

-CHAPTER 1

The blade of the lightsaber hissed through the air. Obi-Wan Kenobi could not see its red gleam through the blindfold pressing on his eyes. He used the Force to know precisely when to duck.
The searing heat of his opponent’s lightsaber blade slashed overhead, nearly burning him. The air smelled like lightening.
“Good!” Yoda called from the sidelines of the room. “Let go. Let your feelings guide you.”
The words of encouragement spurred Obi-Wan on. Because he was tall and strong for a twelve-year-old, many assumed that he’d have the advantage in battle.
But strength and size counted for nothing where agility and speed were needed. Nor did they have any effect on the Force that he had not yet mastered.
Obi-Wan listened intently for the sound of his foe’s lightsaber, for his breathing, for the scrape of a shoe against the floor. Such sounds echoed loudly in the small, high-ceilinged chamber.
A random jumble of blocks on the floor added another element to the exercise. He had to use the Force the sense those, too. With such uneven ground, it was easy to lose his footing.
[...]
Seat trickled underneath the blindfold, making his eyes sting. Obi-Wan blocked it out, along with his please at his opponent’s clumsiness. He could imagine himself a full Jedi Knight, battling a space pirate . . . a Togorian with fangs as long as Obi-Wan’s fingers. In his mind, Obi-Wan saw the armored creature glare at him through eyes that were mere green slits. Its claws could easily shred a human.
The vision energized him, helped him let go of his fears. In seconds, his every muscle was tuned to the Force. It moved through him, giving him the agility and speed that he needed.
Obi-Wan swung his blade up to block the next blow. The attacker’s lightsaber hummed and whirled down. Obi-Wan leaped high, somersaulting over his attacker’s head, and thrust his lightsaber down where the Togorian’s heart would be.
“Aargh!” the other student howled in surprised rage as Obi-Wan’s hot blade struck his neck. If Obi-Wan had been using a Jedi Knight’s lightsaber, it would have been a killing blow. But apprentices in the Jedi Temple used training sabers set to low power. The touch of the blade only gave a searing kiss, one that the healers might need to tend.
“That was a lucky blow!” the wounded apprentice shouted.
Until that moment, Obi-Wan had not known who he was fighting. He’d been led into the room blindfolded. Now he recognized the voice: Bruck Chun. Like Obi-Wan, Bruck was one of the oldest apprentices in the Jedi Temple. Like Obi-Wan, Bruck hoped to be a Jedi Knight.
“Bruck,” Yoda called calmly. “Leave your blindfold on. A Jedi needs not his eyes to see.”

The Force. A random scene about a mock duel between Jedi apprentices/initiates (known in other sources as "younglings"). Obviously, the kids are shown from a very early age how to use the lightsaber (Obi-Wan is one of the oldest kids around when he is a few weeks away from becoming 13 years old) with training lightsabers that have a much lower power output than the real deal.

Also, Obi-Wan Kenobi, regarded by Yoda as a good student, one of the most experienced kids in the block and naturally strong in the Force, is likely to be well above average in his ability to use the Force, although he mostly uses it for early warning against enemy attacks and needs to mentally visualize the enemy as an "space pirate" to bolster his physical prowess.

Bruck struggled with his own simmering anger that could quickly ignite into hot rage. He usually kept it well under control, so that only other initiates glimpsed it.
Bruck also held grudges. A year ago, Obi-Wan had stumbled in a Temple corridor, tripping Bruck, who had fallen. It had been an accident, caused by legs and feet that were growing too fast on both boys, but Bruck felt sure that Obi-Wan had done it on purpose. Bruck’s dignity was very important to him. The laughter of the other students had goaded him. He’d called Obi-Wan an oaf then - Oafy-Wan.
The name had stuck.
The worst thing was that it was true. Often, Obi-Wan felt that his body was growing too fast. He couldn’t seem to catch up with his long legs and large feet. A Jedi should feel comfortable in his body, but Obi-Wan felt awkward. Only when the Force was moving through him did he feel graceful or sure.
“Come on, Oafy,” Bruck taunted. “See if you can hit me again! One last time, before they throw you out of the Temple!”
“Bruck, enough!” Yoda said. “Learn to lose as well as win, a Jedi must. Go to your room, you will.”

Culture. Considering that these kids have been raised and educated in the Jedi Temple from a very early age, they seem remarkably petty in their behaviour.

“You knew all along that Qui-Gon Jinn was coming to search for a Padawan, didn’t you,” Obi-Wan said slowly, as the suspicions hardened into certainty. Since Obi-Wan was the oldest apprentice in the Temple, the Jedi Masters would encourage Qui-Gon to take him - the lost cause. Bruck would not want that to happen.
Bruck laughed. “I made sure you didn’t find out. If I’d had my way, you wouldn’t have found out until he’d left.”
Bruck hoped to become Qui-Gon’s Padawan! And the only way to do it was to make sure that Obi-Wan failed. He’d tried to keep him from preparing, and now he was trying to make him mad. Obi-Wan’s anger, his impatience, had been his downfall often enough in the past Bruck hoped to fill his mind with rage and despair so that he would not be open to the Force.
Obi-Wan had been raised in the Jedi Temple since he was a baby. He hadn’t seen much of greed or hatred or true evil. The Masters shielded the children from such things, to keep them from turning to the dark side of the Force.

Culture. Maybe it's just me, but raising future Jedi in such a way that they are largely ignorant of the darker side of life outside the Temple sounds like a good recipe for disaster when they are supposed to operate in the most unpleasant parts of the galaxy once they leave. Not to mention that despite all their Jedi training, both Obi-Wan and Bruck have clear anger management issues.

Bruck leaped toward him with a snarl, his lightsaber held high. Obi-Wan spun to meet him with a cry on his lips. Flashing blades clashed in a burst of light and buzzing sound as the boys met in the room’s center.
Weary as they were, the boys fought until they could hardly move. By the time they crept from the training room, both boys were badly burned and bruised.
Neither had won, and both had lost.
As Obi-Wan headed to his chamber, Bruck took a lift to the upper rooms of the Temple, where the healers practiced their arts. He limped into the medic’s chambers, pretending to be more hurt than he was. His clothes were slashed and singed from the practice sabers, and blood ran from his nose.

The Force. After this, the bully goes to the healers with a sad story about being beaten by Big Bad Kenobi. He doesn't quite lie, but he happily twists the facts. By all indications, this fools the healers.

-CHAPTER 2

“Here now, it isn’t that horrible.” Docent Vant said. She was a tall blue-skinned woman with an elegant headtail that twitched nervously.
Obi-Wan stared at the orders in shock. The data pad told him that he would ship out of the Temple in the morning. He needed to pack his bags.
He was to report to the world of Bandomeer -- some planet he’d never even heard of, out on the Galactic Rim. There he would join the Agricultural Corps.
“But I don’t understand,” he said numbly. “I still have four weeks until my birthday.”
“I know,” Docent Vant said. “But your ship, the Monument, leaves tomorrow, with a thousand miners aboard. It can’t wait just because you have a birthday.”
In shock, Obi-Wan looked around at his room. Overhead, three model Verpine fighters droned near the ceiling. He’d made them himself. Repulsorlift fields held them aloft, and their running lights flashed purple and green as they hummed about. Miniature insectoid pilots swiveled their heads, as if to look around. Books and charts were piled on his study table. His lightsaber hung in its usual place on the wall. He couldn’t imagine leaving here. It was his home. But he would leave it all gladly for the hard life of an apprentice. Not a farmer!

Culture/Misc. Beyond the ethics of sending a kid who has rarely left the Jedi Temple alone to the other side of the galaxy and the fact that miniaturized repulsorlifts seem to be fairly commonplace technology, I think that the presence of a lightsaber in Obi-Wan's room (and no it isn't a training model) is probably the most interesting. Although I am not positive at the moment, I am fairly sure that the construction of the lightsaber is described as an important step during Padawan training in other sources, so... what exactly is Kenobi doing with one of them when he isn't even a Padawan yet?

The shock and despair made him feel sick. He raised his gaze to Docent Vant. “I could still be a Jedi Knight.”
Docent Vant touched Obi-Wan’s hand tenderly. She smiled, revealing pointed teeth. She shook her head. “Not every one is meant to be a warrior. The Republic needs healers and farmers, too. With your Force skills, you will be able to treat sick crops. Your talent will help feed whole worlds.”
“But -“ Obi-Wan wanted to say that he felt cheated. He deserved four more weeks. “It’s a job for rejects, initiates too weak to be knights. Besides, tomorrow Qui-Gon Jinn will be looking for a Padawan. Master Yoda said that I should fight for him.”
[...]
There was nothing else to do but pack his bags. Obi-Wan felt to devastated and ashamed to say good-bye. Not to Garen Muln or Reeft, or even to his best friend, Bant. They would feel angry and hurt if he left quietly, but he couldn’t face them. His friends would want to know where he was going. Once he had told them that he had been ordered to report to the Agricultural Corps, word would get around. He could imagine how some of the others would laugh, There was nothing he could say or do to clear his name.

Culture. Supposing that the explanation about the function of the Agricultural Corps isn't bullshit destined to make Obi-Wan feel slightly better, it boggles the mind that he considers it a job for rejects.
The Force. Unfortunately, I think that we never see a Jedi member of the Agri-Corps actually doing his work, so we don't exactly know how they use their powers to heal sick crops, only that they supposedly have the capacity to do so.

-CHAPTER 3

With the help of Jedi healing techniques and the Temple’s marvelous ointments, Obi-Wan Kenobi’s burns and bruises were healed by morning. But the pain in his heart had not eased. He slept briefly, then rose well before dawn.

The Force. Considering that Kenobi had no assistance from the Jedi healers, it seems that even as a youngling he can heal minor burns overnight when the conditions are right, even when experiencing a great deal of emotional turmoil.

Obi-Wan nodded. It was good that he had given Reeft most of his food. He couldn’t eat. He knew his friends were trying to make him feel better. But they still had plenty of chances to become Jedi. That highest honor was what they all wanted, all they worked for. No matter what they said, they all knew his lost chance was crushing disappointment.
Around him, Obi-Wan heard the swirl of conversations at the other tables. Students looked over at him, then looked away. Most gazes were compassionate, and some tried to cheer him. But he sensed that the overwhelming feeling in the room was that everyone was glad that what had happened to Obi-Wan had not happened to them.
At Bruck’s table, the voices were loud and reached their ears. “Always knew he wouldn’t make it,” Bruck’s friend Aalto said loudly. Obi-Wan’s ears burned as he heard Bruck’s high snicker. He turned, and Bruck stared at him, daring him to pick another fight.
“Don’t mind him,” Bant said. “He’s a fool.”
Obi-Wan turned away and finished his meal, just as a huge black Barabel fruit plopped on the table near his tray. Juice from the fruit splattered on Bant and Garen Muln. Obi-Wan glared over at Bruck, who had come halfway across the room to throw it.
“Plant it, Oafy,” Bruck said. “I hear they’ll grow just about anywhere.”
Obi-Wan started to rise from his chair, but Bant put a hand over his and held him down, trying to calm him.
Obi-Wan smiled at Bruck, keeping himself in control. He want to anger me, Obi-Wan knew. He hopes to anger me. How often in the past have others played me like this, making me lose the chance to become a Padawan?
Obi-Wan held his anger, and merely smiled at Bruck. Yet a white-hot fury was building inside him.
Just then, Reeft muttered, “I don’t mean to sound greedy, but are you going to eat that Barabel fruit?”
Obi-Wan nearly burst out laughing. “Thank you, Bruck,” he said, scraping the fruit off the table and placing it in a cup. “The people of Bandomeer will be honored when I share with them your gift - the gift from one farmer to another.”

Culture. More stupid behaviour from the future Jedi. Quite sincerely, I find the mental maturity of this lot rather lacking. They definitely do not seem mature enough to be allowed to use deadly force with very little oversight.

Mace Windu asked, “And what of last night, the beating Obi-Wan gave to Bruck?”
Yoda waved his hand and, as he did so, a referee droid appeared from behind the bushes.
“Advanced Jedi Training Droid 6, last night the fight you saw,” Yoda prompted.
“Obi-Wan’s heat was beating at sixty-eight beats per minute,” the droid reported. “His torso was faced northeast at twenty-seven degrees, with his right hand extended down, clutching his training saber. His body temperature was -“
Mace Windu sighed. If allowed to continue, the training droid would take an hour just to describe how Obi-Wan crossed the room.
“Just tell us who provoked the fight,” Mace Windu said. “Who said what, and then what happened?”
The training droid AJTD6 gave an indignant buzz at being curtailed. But after a glower from Mace Windu, it began the story of how Bruck had provoked Obi-Wan into the fight.

Androids and Computers. Ignoring the fact that the Jedi Masters are holding the idiot ball in this one (so they have a witness in the form of an advanced droid capable of describing the fight in exquisite detail and only Yoda bothered to ask?), the Advanced Jedi Training Droids seem to be pretty good at picking biometric information from a distance.

-CHAPTER 4

“Who taught you to fight like that?” Qui-Gon asked. The Jedi had rough features, but his was a sensitive, thoughtful face.
“What do you mean?”
“Students in the Temple rarely attack so viciously. They learn to defend, to wear one another down. They conserve their strength. Yet you fought . . . like a very dangerous man. You left yourself open to attack time and time again, and relied on the other boy to take the defensive stance.”
“I wanted to end it quickly,” Obi-Wan said. “The Force allowed it.”
Qui-Gon studied Obi-Wan for a long moment. “I am not so sure. You cannot always rely upon your enemy to take the defensive stance. Your fighting style is too dangerous, too risky.”
[...]
But Qui-Gon merely said, “In future fights, rein in your anger. A Jedi Knight never exhaust himself when battling a stronger foe. And never expect your enemy to miss an opportunity to do you harm.”
Qui-Gon turned and headed for the door.
Obi-Wan stood still, confused. Qui-Gon was not taking him as his apprentice. He was merely giving out advice, the way the Master’s always did.
Obi-Wan couldn’t let his dream walk away. He couldn’t see his dream die.
“Wait!” Obi-Wan called out. “If I was wrong, it only means I need the best teacher. Will you take me with you?”
Qui-Gon turned slowly, and eyed the boy. He frowned, deep in thought. At last he murmured, “No.”
“Qui-Gon Jinn, I will be thirteen in four weeks,” Obi-Wan said. The truth was a desperate gamble, but he had to say it. “You are my last chance to be a Jedi Knight.”
Qui-Gon shook his head sadly. “It is better not to train a boy to become Knight if he has so much anger. There is the risk he will turn to the dark side.”
With that, the huge Jedi wheeled and strode for the door, his cape streaming.
Obi-Wan sprang to his feet. “I won’t turn,” he said with certainty.
But Qui-Gon neither slowed his stride nor turned back. In a moment he was gone, as quickly and silently as he had appeared.

Culture. In all fairness, Qui-Gon Jinn seems to have particularly serious issues with this ever since his own Padawan, Xanatos, went all darksidey after a very nasty business that the Jedi was unable/unwilling to stop early on. Still, destroying like this the hopes of a boy who is both strong in the Force and really wants to be a Jedi Knight, seems like a most excellent form of ensuring that he will eventually fall to the Dark Side.

-CHAPTER 5

“Very well,” Yoda said. “But by chance alone we do not live our lives. If take an apprentice you will not, then, in time, perhaps fate will choose.”
“Perhaps,” Qui-Gon agreed. He hesitated. “What will happen to the boy?”
“For the Agricultural Corps he will work.”
Qui-Gon grunted. “Farmer?” Such a waste of potential. “Tell him . . . that I wish him luck.”
“Too late,” Yoda said. “On his way to Bandomeer he is.”
“Bandomeer?” Qui-Gon asked in surprise.
“Know the place you do?”
“Know it? The Senate has asked me to go there. You knew this, didn’t you?” Qui-Gon eyed the small Master suspiciously.
“Hmmm . . . “ Yoda said. “I knew it not. But more than coincidence this is. Strange are the ways of the Force.”
“But why send the boy to Bandomeer?” Qui-Gon asked. “It’s a brutal world. If the weather doesn’t kill him, the predators will. He’ll need all of his skills just to stay alive - never mind the Agri-Corps!”
“Yes, so the Council thought,” Yoda said. “Good to grow crops Bandomeer may not be. But good place for a young Jedi to grow it is.”

Culture. So not just sending a lone boy to the other side of the galaxy, but sending him to a particularly nasty backwater. This keeps getting better and better.

-CHAPTER 6

The Monument was an old Corellian barge, pocked and scarred from meteor hits. It was shaped like a crate, and attached to the front of it were a dozen cargo boxes destined to Bandomeer. It was the ugliest, dirtiest ship that Obi-Wan could have imagined.
If the exterior was ugly, the interior was foul. Its battered corridors smelled of miners’ dust and the sweaty bodies of many species. Repair ports were left open, so that wires and pressure hoses - the ship’s guts - spilled out as if from an open wound.
Everywhere on the Monument enormous Hutts slithered about like giant slugs. Whiphids stalked the corridors with their moldy fur and tusks. Tall Arconans with triangular heads and glittering eyes moved in small groups.
Obi-Wan wandered in a daze, his bags in hand. No one had been at the entry port to guide him. No one even seemed to notice him. He realized gloomily that he had left behind the data pad Docent Vant had given him. On it was his room number.

Technology (Misc.). A decrepit civilian operated starship big enough to carry a thousand passengers of several different species (including Hutts and Whiphids, both of which are considerably larger than humans) can land and take off from the surface of Coruscant.
Defenses. The ship is also durable enough to have survived multiple direct meteoric impacts to the hull, although unfortunately no quantifiable information is actually provided about these incidents.

Suddenly, a huge Hutt blocked his path. Before Obi-Wan could say a word, the Hutt grabbed him by the throat and threw him against a wall.
“What do you think you’re doing, slug?”
“Uh, what?” Obi-Wan asked in surprise. What had he done wrong? He was just trudging down the hall. With a sense of unease, he noticed that two particularly evil-looking Whiphids stood behind the Hutt. “B-Bandomeer,” he stammered.
The Hutt studied Obi-Wan as if here were a morsel of food. The creature’s huge tongue rolled from its mouth and slid over its grey lips, leaving a trail of slime.
“That’s not a ship’s uniform you’re wearing, and you’re not Offworld.”
Obi-Wan looked down at his clothes. He wore a loose gray tunic. He suddenly realized that the Hutt in front of him wore a black triangular patch that showed a bright red planet, like an eye. A silver spaceship circling the planet became the iris of the eye. Beneath the logo were the words Offworld Mining. The Whiphids wore the same symbol.
“He must be from that other outfit,” a Whiphid said.
“Maybe he’s a spy,” the second Whiphid growled. “What’s he got in those bags, you think? Bombs?”
The Hutt pushed his huge grotesque face close to Obi-Wan’s. “Any miner who doesn’t work for Offworld is the enemy,” he roared, shaking Obi-Wan roughly. “You, slug, are an enemy. And we don’t allow the enemy on Offworld turf.”
The Hutt’s fingers were like slabs of meat. They tightened around Obi-Wan’s neck, strangling him. Choking, Obi-Wan dropped his bags and grasped the Hutt’s fingers. His lungs burned and the room spun.

The Force. Item the first: Obi-Wan doesn't get the slightest precognitive warning, which might have been useful to avoid the attack of a Hutt who has the clear intention of causing him grievous bodily harm.
Culture. Item the second: Although Offworld is apparently particularly infamous for its cutthroat tactics, strong-arming competitors seems to be a moderately common way of doing business in the Outer Rim.

Using all his strength, Obi-wan managed to pry the Hutt’s fingers from his throat long enough to gasp a breath. He stared into the cruel, blank eyes of the Hutt, trying to summon his Force powers.
“Leave me alone,” Obi-Wan gasped, struggling to breathe. He let the Force carry the command to the Hutt, to batter his will, change his mind. This was not like fighting another student. He sensed a cruelty without conscience. There were no rules here, no Yoda to call off the fight.
“Leave you alone? Why?” the Hutt roared with cruel amusement.
I’m getting off to a good start, Obi-Wan thought despairingly.
The last thing he remembered was the Hutt’s fist coming straight at him.

The Force. Obi-Wan tries using the old Jedi Mind Trick against a Hutt with little effect. Considering that this is the first time he actually uses it against a hostile mind and that Hutts are consistently described as having some natural resistance against mental manipulation, this is no great surprise.

-CHAPTER 7

Obi-Wan tried to shake his head, but even a tiny movement rocked him with pain. He took a long breath. He called on his Jedi training to accept the pain as a signal his body was sending. He had to accept the pain, respect it, not fight it. Then he’d have to ask his body to begin to heal.
Once he’d centered his mind, the pain seemed to ease. He turned to the woman. “I didn’t seem to have a choice.”

The Force. Even prior to becoming a Padawan, Kenobi knows something about healing himself with the Force and how to resist the effects of pain.

“We’re the Arcona Mineral Harvest Corporation,” the woman responded. “If you don’t work for us, why did the Offworlders beat you?”
Obi-Wan tried to shrug, but pain shot through his shoulder. Sometimes it was hard to respect his body’s signal. “You tell me. I was only looking for my cabin.”
“You’re a though one,” the woman said cheerfully. “Not everybody could withstand a pounding by a Hutt. Did you come on board looking for a job? We could use you at Arcona Harvest. I’m Clat’Ha, chief operations manager.” She looked young to be running a mining operation - perhaps twenty-five.
[...]
He laid back and Clat’Ha withdrew. “Good luck to you, Obi-Wan Kenobi,” she said. “Watch yourself. You’ve stepped into the middle of a war. You’re lucky to be alive. You may not be so lucky next time.” She turned to leave, but Obi-Wan touched her hand.
“Wait,” he said. “I don’t understand. What war? Who’s fighting?”
“Offworld’s war,” Clat’Ha answered. “You must have heard of them.”
Obi-Wan shook his head. How could he explain that he’d lived his whole life in the Jedi Temple? He knew more about the ways of the Force than the ways of the universe.
“Offworld is one of the oldest and richest mining companies in the galaxy,” Clat’Ha told him. “And they didn’t get that way by letting others compete with them. Miners who get in their way tend to die.”
“Who’s their leader?” Obi-Wan asked.
“No one knows who owns Offworld,” Clat’Ha said. “Someone who has been around for centuries, probably. And I’m not even sure that we could prove he or she is responsible for the murders. But the leader on this ship going to Bandomeer is a particularly ruthless Hutt by the name of Jemba.”

Culture. Beyond the fact that Obi-Wan Kenobi apparently didn't even get a briefing about the political situation in Bandomeer before being kicked out of the Temple, it is interesting that the Republic allows one of the largest mining companies operating in its territory to be owned by unknown parties...

Obi-Wan repeated the name in his mind. Jemba. It might have been Jemba who had beaten him. “Ruthless? In what way?”
Clat’Ha glanced over he shoulder, worried that someone would hear her. “Offworld used the cheapest labor possible. Out on the Rim world, in places like Bandomeer, half of Jemba’s workers will be Whiphid slaves. But that’s not the worst,” Clat’Ha said. She hesitated.
“What’s the worst?” Obi-Wan asked.
Clat’Ha’s dark eyes flashed. “About five years ago, Jemba was Offworld’s chieftain on the plant Varristad, where another startup mining firm was also working. Varristad is a small planet, without any air, so the workers all lived in a huge underground dome. Someone or something pooped a hole in that dome, instantly destroying the artificial atmosphere. A quarter of a million people were killed. No one was ever able to prove that Jemba did it, but when the other company went bankrupt, he bought the mineral rights for practically nothing. He made a huge profit for Offworld. Now we’ll have to deal with him on Bandomeer.”
Obi-Wan said, “Are you certain it was intentional? Maybe it was an accident.”
Clat’Ha looked unconvinced. “Maybe,” she said. “But accidents follow Jemba the way stink follows Whiphids - accidents like the one that happened to you. So take care.”

Size and Scope. A starting private mining firm can build in an airless world an underground facility large enough to house at least a quarter of a million people... At the same time, the loss of this facility apparently resulted in bankruptcy for said company, so it had to be a major investment.
Culture. Slaves? Did I miss something in TPM? Because I definitely remember something about the Republic having outlawed slavery and Bandomeer is by all indications in Republic-controlled territory (for starters, Qui-Gon Jinn is being sent there in an official mission by the Galactic Senate).

He locked eyes with her. “Clat’Ha, we can’t let this continue. The Monument isn’t Offworld’s ship! They can’t just go around beating people up.”
Clat’Ha sighed. “Maybe it isn’t their ship, but Offworld’s miners outnumber the crew thirty to one. The captain won’t be able to do much to protect you. So if I were you, I’d stay off their turf. You’re welcome on our side of the ship any time” She headed for the door, then turned and flashed a grin that made her serious face suddenly look young and mischievous. “If you can find it.”
Obi-Wan grinned back. But he still struggled against Clat’Ha acceptance of the injustice. He didn’t understand it. He had grown up in a world where disputes were mediated and resolved. No obvious injustice was allowed to stand.
“Clat’Ha, this isn’t right,” he said gravely. “Why should we have to stay off their side of the ship? Why should you accept that?”
Clat’Ha’s face flushed. “Because I don’t want them on my side of the ship! Obi-Wan, listen to me,” she said urgently. “Accidents happen around Jemba. Drilling rigs blow and tunnels collapse and people die. I don’t want his corporate spies and saboteurs on my side of the Monument, any more than he would want mine on his. So just accept things the way they are. It’s better for everyone.”

Misc. Considering that the Monument carries a thousand miners and that roughly half of them seem to be Offworld employees, the ship is crewed by no more than twenty individuals.
The Force. Have I perhaps mentioned that Obi-Wan Kenobi is in no way, shape or form ready to handle the world outside the Jedi Temple?

-CHAPTER 8

He woke in sickbay, with tubes in his arms and an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth. For a moment he thought he was still dreaming - Qui-Gon Jinn was standing over him. Then the Jedi’s large, cool hand rested on Obi-Wan’s forehead, and Obi-Wan realized he was awake.
“H-how?” Obi-Wan whispered.
Qui-Gon’s hand dropped, and he took a step back. “Don’t try to speak,” he said gently. “You’ve had a bad fever, but I’ve taken care of it. Your wounds turned out to be worse than what the medics could handle.”

Androids and Computers (?). The wounds caused by a severe beating are more than what the medics (medical droids?) of the monument can handle.
The Force. Qui-Gon Jinn can use the Force to heal others. It isn't specified if this is something he could have done with anyone or if Obi-Wan's own Force potential helped matters in this.

An Arconan edged into the room. He was slightly shorter than most, with skin that was more green than grey. “We did not mean to disturb -“
“It’s all right,” Obi-Wan said kindly.
“-but we were told to meet Clat’Ha here. She has a situation she needs to discuss. We heard that a young boy faced a Hutt in a great battle, and survived,” the Arconan said softly. “We wanted to see the great hero. We are sorry to disturb. We will wait outside.” He began to retreat.
Obi-Wan looked over the Arconan’s shoulder before he remembered that Arconan’s always referred to themselves as “we.” They did not have a sense of an individual self and lived all their lives in colonies.

Culture. Unusual psychological traits of this species (Arcona).

“We have a problem,” she said crisply. “Someone has been tampering with our equipment. Young Si Treemba here discovered it on a routine inspection. We have three Arconan tunneling machines in stock, and all three have been sabotaged.”
“How so?” Qui-Gon asked.
Si Treemba stepped forward. “The thermocoms that monitor the tunnelers’ hull temperature have been removed, sir. And the coring couplers have been rigged so that they will not disengage.”
“What does that mean?” Obi-Wan asked.
Qui-Gon thought for a minute. “The Arconan tunnelers are vehicles that drill through rock and soil. As they do, the friction of the hull moving past all that stone makes the vehicle very hot. Without the thermocoms, the cooling system would not work. And with the coring computers sabotaged, the driver of the tunneler would not be able to shut if off. The machine would simply keep digging until it melted from the heat. Everyone in it would die.”

Misc. An apparently semi-common example of mining machinery. Supposing that the statement about the machines "melting from the heat" can be taken at face value, I'd guess that they must move at pretty high speeds to create that much friction.

Nonetheless, this is the guess of someone with no formal background in engineering. If someone here has the adequate education, we might be able to narrow things from my "pretty high speeds" down to something a bit more concrete.

The Hutt outside the door was much larger than the one that had beaten Obi-Wan. Hutts can live for hundreds of years and they never really stop growing - either in size or cunning. This one, Jemba, had a mouth so vast that he could have swallowed three men whole. Jemba’s huge face and eyes filled the doorway.

Misce. Some interesting details about Hutt biology. If they really get more cunning as they age, one wonders how Jabba (who is considerably smaller than this "Jemba") managed to become so powerful at such an early age.

“Perhaps,” Jemba said, his eyes narrowing craftily, “your people did it to hurt me. Your unreasonable hatred for me is well-known. You have already asked the mining guild to have Offworld banned from Bandomeer. Now, by casting suspicion on me and my crew, you hope to have me lawfully removed.”

Culture. No further details about this "mining guild" are offered in the book, only this statement about it having the power to remove a company from a planet and the authority to enforce such a ruling.

Clat’Ha drew her blaster, but Qui-Gon stepped in front of her and raised his hand. He locked eyes with the Hutt. Obi-Wan felt the power of the Force fill the room.
“Enough,” Qui-Gon said quietly.
Jemba stopped pushing to get inside the room. The Hutt knew he could not get to Clat’Ha. Qui-Gon glanced at Clat’Ha. Slowly, she lowered the blaster and returned it to the holding device on her leg. Obi-Wan had to admire Qui-Gon’s skill. He felt a pang of regret. There was so much he wished he could learn from the Jedi.
“Now,” Qui-Gon said in a reasonable tone, “let us review the situation. The machines were sabotaged. Yet both of you insist you did not do it. There is nowhere to take this except open warfare.” Qui-Gon looked at each of them in turn. “And that is something that neither of you wish for, I’m sure.”
“Jedi,” Jemba said, “you think yourself to be a fair man. But when Hutts and Humans argue, even the fairest of men join sides against my kind.” The Hutt’s voice boomed in a tone of pure venom. “If it is war that she wants, then war will come. And if you take her side, I swear, I will squash you like a pta fruit! Your Jedi status does not protect you!”
Menace hung thick in the air. It was clear that the Hutt meant everything he said. He was willing to kill anyone who stood against him. Obi-Wan had never encountered a creature of such malice.
It would be so easy to solve the situation, Obi-Wan thought. The Hutt was vulnerable, trapped in the small hallway outside the sickbay. Qui-Gon could draw his lightsaber, lunge forward, and slice the Hutt in half.

The Force. Qui-Gon Jinn apparently manages to calm down a rather furious Hutt using the Force. Also, Obi-Wan apparently considers that the best way to solve a potentially explosive conflict between two groups would be to kill the evilest faction leader in the spot.
Culture. Hutts obviously are aware of how much bad press they have and don't like it much, even though Jemba personally matches the worst stereotypes.

“I don’t understand,” Obi-Wan said. “Why did you let the Hutt go? He may be innocent of the crime of which he has been accused. But I’m sure he’s guilty of others.”
“Yes, he’s guilty,” Qui-Gon agreed. “But Clat’Ha can defend herself. As Jedi, we are bound only to defend those who have no other means of defense.”

Culture. Coming from alleged defenders of peace and civilization, this sounds a bit... dunno, stupid?

-CHAPTER 9

Obi-Wan had forgotten how Arconans think. They had no word for me or mine. So Si Treemba wandered from cabin to cabin, searching each bunk and storage compartment. A dozen times, Arconans asked, “What are we doing?”
Each time, Si Treemba answered, “We are looking for something that was lost.”
To which the Arconan would ask, “May we help find it?”
And Si Treemba would merely answer, “We need no assistance.” The Si Treemba and Obi-Wan would search the room and leave.
But not all the workers for Arcona Mineral Harvest were Arconan. Some were short, silver-haired Meerians returning to Bandomeer, some Human. Obi-Wan had to treat these carefully. More than once he found himself using the Force to convince some burly miner to let him search.
It was exhausting work for someone who was still recovering, but Obi-Wan ignored his own pain and weariness. A Jedi did not give into such feelings.
After a long day, Obi-Wan and Si Treemba went to the kitchens for a late meal.

Misc. A couple of humanoids can do a rather thorough search of half the Monument in a single day. This would suggest that it is a large ship, but not some kind of multi-km giant.
The Force. Less than a day after failing to use the Mind Trick against a Hutt, Kenobi manages to successfully use to influence several non-hostile miners.
Propulsion. The hyperspace travel from Coruscant to Bandomeer (somewhere in the Outer Rim) takes at least one day.

Obi-Wan ate a full dinner of roast gorak bird cooked in mall petals from Alderaan. Si ate Arconan fungi covered with dactyl, a type of yellow ammonia crystal. The Arconan’s food smelled . . . well, the fungus wasn’t bad, but the dactyl smelled like poison.
Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose. “How could anyone eat that stuff?”
Si Treemba smiled. His faceted eyes glittered. “Some creatures wonder how Humans can drink water, yet you take delight in it. Dactyl is as necessary to us as water is to you.” Having said that, he took a couple of crunchy yellow stones and popped them into his mouth like candy.
When Obi-Wan reached for salt, Si Treemba pulled his plate away in fear.
“Salt increases our need for dactyl a hundredfold,” Si Treemba explained. “It is a very dangerous substance to Arconans.”

Misc. Once again, biology ain't exactly my field of expertise, but the Arconan dietary requirements seem rather weird for humanoids who can breathe an oxygen atmosphere without trouble.

“In Offworld mining, the chiefs and overseers make fortunes, while the common workers make nothing. Many of them are slaves. But at Arcona Mineral Harvest, we have no chieftains, no overseers. Each worker shares in the profits. This did not bother Offworld until Clat’Ha began to expand our operations. So she contacts the better workers at Offworld. If they are slaves, she offers to buy them and set them free if they will work for us. If they have signed work contracts, she offers to buy the contracts.”
“That sounds fair,” Obi-Wan said.
“It is fair,” Si Treemba agreed. “That is exactly why Jemba fears us. Many good workers wish to join us, only the bad will stay at Offworld.”
“I see,” Obi-Wan said. “So in a few years, Jemba will have only chiefs with no one to boss around. He’d hate that.”
Si Treemba grinned, then turned serious. “But Jemba has stalled us. He has raised the price on labor contracts and slaves. We can no longer afford to hire Offworld workers.”
Obi-Wan was beginning to see that the galaxy was a far more complicated place than he’d realized. The Temple had prepared him for so many things. But they had not prepared him for this. He had known that most worlds in the galaxy had outlawed slavery, and he had assumed that it was rare. But here were hundreds of workers locked in an illegal practice.
Obi-Wan was horrified at the idea of slavery. Since Offworld had paid good money to buy and train slaves, the company wasn’t likely to sell them cheap - or to let them go without a fight. Clat’Ha had been right when she told Obi-Wan he had stepped into a war. This battle would probably wage through mining camps on hundreds of worlds.

Size and Scope. According to Obi-Wan, a potential conflict involving a large mining firm could result in incidents in hundreds of worlds.
Culture. Turns out that there isn't a Republic-wide ban on slavery. It is just something that is only allowed in a minority of worlds.
Realism. If Offworld really works as described, there are issues from a purely economical point of view. For starters, under such conditions, the workers -be they employees or slaves- would have no incentives to be productive (brutality and technology can ensure that the miners actually work, but negative reinforcement isn't the way to get people to work well and with enthusiasm) and the external competitors would eventually kick the firm out of the market. Unless the conditions under which these competitors operate are more or less the same...

-CHAPTER 10

The cabin looked like a monument to filth, just like all the others Obi-Wan had seen today. The Whiphid wore dirty, half-cured hides from his homeworld of Toola. Piles of painted animal skulls were stacked in every corner, looking like hunting trophies. Worse that that, Obi-Wan could see that Hutts had been bunking in the same room: The floor was littered with the furry parts of half-eaten small animals.

Culture. Frankly, the way the Whiphids are presented here makes them seem little better than overgrown LOTR Orcs who have learned to use rayguns.

Obi-Wan studied the shadowy scene below for a long minute. The Whiphid was probably drunk. Otherwise he would have been out playing sabacc or some other card game with his friends.
But something felt wrong. Maybe the Whiphid was only faking sleep. It could be a trap.
Obi-Wan tried to peer farther into the room. It looked empty but for the lone Whiphid. He couldn’t see the corners of the room, however.
His unease deepened. He could feel dark ripples in the force, but what did it mean? Evil streamed through this side of the ship like poisonous air.

The Force. Obi-Wan can feel generic "evil" energy all around the Offworld miners, but apparently lacks the skill/experience to understand what the Force is telling him.

He’d found illegal weapons - riot guns and biotic grenades. He’d found a small casket filled with credit chips that might have been stolen loot. But he hadn’t found any thermocoms.
He studied the Whiphid again. He was lying on his cot. Beneath his head Obi-Wan could see a barely concealed weapon. Among such creatures, sleeping with a blaster was the norm.

Ground Combat. Riot guns seem to be just glorified stun weapons (one wonders why they are illegal), whereas biotic grenades can create focused explosions and are used for mining, according to Wookieepedia.

Glancing back down the air shaft, Obi-wan could see Si Treemba cautiously inching toward the previous air shaft. Obi-Wan waved a hand, trying to get the Arconan’s attention, when suddenly a blinding flash of light erupted through the shaft, and a deafening boom roared.
Someone had shot a blaster through the vent!
Smoke began to fill the air. They were trapped!

Ground Combat. Effects of a handheld blaster being fired in close quarters. As Si Treemba (who is a completely mundane individual) doesn't suffer injuries, despite being right next to the airshaft, the smoke mentioned in the passage is unlikely to be a byproduct of vaporization of metal.

Through the vent behind him, Obi-Wan heard a Hutt laugh cruelly. “And you said there were womp rats in the air shaft! I told you I smelled an Arconan!”

Misc. It seems that Hutts have an unusually good olfactory system.

-CHAPTER 11

Qui-Gon swung his legs over his sleep-couch. He felt his heart pound in his chest, every muscle on alert. But why?
He had been resting when he sensed it. It felt as though danger was near, but Qui-Gon was not in danger . . .
Suddenly, he recognized the feeling. He had experienced it before. Jedi sometimes sense when another Jedi, close to them, is in trouble. At times, they can even see a vague picture of what that trouble might be. Qui-Gon searched his mind, but did not see anything clear. Only haze.
“Obi-Wan,” he murmured. It had to be the boy. Qui-Gon fought against the feeling. It was ridiculous, absurd. The boy was not his Padawan. Why would there be such a strong connection between them?
Yet there it was. Yoda would be pleased.
Qui-Gon groaned. He was not.
Wherever he turned, the boy appeared. He was happy to treat Obi-Wan’s injuries, but he refused to be responsible for his welfare. If the boy had gotten himself into some sort of mess, he would just have to find his own way out of it.

The Force. Details about Force bonds and precognitive dreams. Also, Qui-Gon behaves like a major s.o.b. this time around, even though he is supposed to be one of the most "enlightened" members of the Jedi Order.

At last he found Si Treemba, four floors down near the belly of the ship.

Misc. The Monument has at least four levels.

The Arconan boy looked beaten and bruised, but more seemed to be wrong with him than a mere beating. His color had gone from a healthy gray-green to muddy tan.
Obi-Wan could see that the life force in the Arconan was weak, and fading. But why? Si Treemba had ingested his dactyl supply before they’d begun the search. Why had he weakened so fast?

The Force. Pretty much self-explanatory. Obi-Wan can feel the life force of other beings and detect when something is majorly wrong.

Obi-Wan sprang forward, slashing at the heavy table. The lightsaber cut through the thick legs easily. With a crash, the table thudded down on the Whiphids. The flimsy stools they had been sitting on collapsed under the weight, pinning them to the floor. They howled in surprise and pain.
[...]
“Oh, but I did learn something,” Obi-Wan said. He held the lightsaber in readiness. “You prey on the weak. Now I am prepared to fight you, coward.”
Grelb eyed the lightsaber with contempt. “With that?”
Obi-Wan glanced behind the Hutt at Si Treemba. The Arconan had managed to free himself. He was quickly eating up all the dactyl on the floor. Already, his color was starting to brighten.
As the Hutt moved toward Obi-Wan, his enormous fist raised, Obi-Wan ducked and rolled in a classic Jedi defense maneuver. As he passed, he delivered a lightsaber blow to the Hutt’s flank. He heard the flesh sizzle.
Grelb roared in fury as he staggered back. His enormous bulk made him clumsy, and he fell onto the table, crushing the Whiphids legs even more. They howled in pain and beat against him with their fists.

Misc. As mentioned in chapter 2, Kenobi owns a real lightsaber even after being destined to the Agricultural Corps and shows few qualms against using it to cause injury to attackers.

-CHAPTER 12

But Obi-Wan knew that if they’d collided with another ship, or an asteroid, in hyperspace, it would have torn the ship apart. Distantly, Obi-Wan heard the whunk whunk whunk of the ship’s guns firing.
Qui-Gon strode to the window. His hand rested on his lightsaber. “Pirates,” he announced.

Propulsion. Apparently, in addition to to the mass shadows created that large astronomical objects project into hyperspace, it is possible to collide with other ships while in hyperspace. Both are Very Bad Things (TM).

-CHAPTER 13

Through the grates under the floor Qui-Gon could hear the grind of the generators charging the ships shields. Meanwhile, the steady whunk whunk sound continued as blasters fired.

Shields and Forcefields. Apparently, the shields of the Monument have to be charged before they can be raised in combat, suggesting that they are usually down (which would perhaps explain the hull damage caused by meteors that is noted in the first description of the ship).

He thought he knew what had happened. Pirates sometimes mined the shipping lanes. When the ship hit a mine, the hyperdrive blew, and the ship would drop back out of hyperspace.
As it did, the pirates would open fire, destroying the ship’s weapons and engines so swiftly that unwary travelers seldom had time to react.
Then the pirates would send boarding parties out to strip anything they could from their victims.
A miner transport like the Monument didn’t have much worth stealing, but the pirates wouldn’t know that - not until they’d blown it to pieces and searched through the rubble.

Propulsion. The way this is described suggests that these "hypermines" passively float in high traffic areas. No details are given of the mechanism used to deploy these devices.
Naval Tactics. A good description of the modus operandi of the typical space pirates.
Sensors. Although this is speculative, the fact that there were several pirate ships ready to attack the Monument the moment it dropped out of hyperspace might mean that they were able to track the vessel from real space and gathered in the point where it was most likely to hit one of their mines. Alternatively, the Togorians just got incredibly lucky.

The floor shuddered under the impact of another explosion. As the ship twisted to its side, Qui-Gon rounded a corner. Ahead was a transparisteel view port. Through it, he could see five Togorian warships, all shaped like red birds of prey. Two screamed past his port. Green bolts of blaster fire erupted from the warships, slamming into the Monument. Metal shrieked in protest. The corridors filled with greasy smoke.
The Monument’s guns had gone silent. Now, Qui-Gon could see why - the gun turrets had been blown away. Bits of burning slag lit up like glowing stars where the turrets had once stood.
The Monument floated dead in space. Though fire alarms sounded, no one on the bridge was shouting orders. Now a Togorian cruiser raced toward the ship.

Naval Weapons. Blaster fire? I think that this is the first time I've seen capital scale weapons being described as "blasters": Regarding firepower, the best we can say is that they have the ability to melt just the gun turrets of a freighter without causing serious damage to the rest of the ship. Likewise, the ranges involved are less than impressive considering that Obi-Wan can see the attackers with the mk I eyeball.

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon called. Even though he did not fully trust the boy, he didn’t see any other choice. They need some kind of plan, and they all had to work together if they hoped to survive. “The pirates are getting ready to board,” he said crisply. “I’ll try to stop them. Go to the bridge and see if the crew is alive. If they are not, I want you to pilot this ship out of here.”
Qui-Gon stared hard at the boy. He was asking a lot, he knew. He knew that as a Jedi student, Obi-Wan had flown a few ships in simulation, and most likely piloted some cloud cars around Coruscant. But he’s never piloted a ship like this, and he’d never been in battle.

Misc. Jedi younglings are trained to pilot several different types of ships with simulators.

Qui-Gon heard the distant roar of small blasters. That could mean only one thing: the pirates had already boarded. Though the Arconans were choosing to hide from the battle, the Offworld miners were putting up a fight.
Of course, the pirates would send more than one boarding party. Qui-Gon decided to let the Offworlders protect themselves. He dashed down a side corridor, toward the docking bay. Clat’Ha ran behind him.
He rounded a corner. A huge Togorian pirate stood directly in his path, his eyes flashing like green embers in the dark fur of his face. The Togorian reached out with his enormous claws to rake Qui-Gon.
But Qui-Gon was a Jedi Master. The Force had already warned him. He twisted under the pirate’s arms, anticipating the move, and grasped the lightsaber attached to his belt. The blade came up cleanly, slicing the Togorian at the knees. The Togorian roared in pain.
Behind the fallen pirate, more Togorians rounded a corner and ran toward them. Clat’Ha, in a blind panic, pulled her own blaster and opened fire. One Togorian screamed in pain, it’s huge fangs gaping and showing blood.
All of the Togorians returned fire with their own blasters. Qui-Gon dodged two bolts, then used his lightsaber to deflect three more.
Clat’Ha dropped low, screaming in rage. She was an able warrior, but they were outnumbered twenty to one. Qui-Gon vowed to do his best to keep her alive.

The Force. Typical example of precognition in combat.
Ground Combat. The Togorian pirates seem to carry only blasters, apparently using their own claws for combat in close quarters.

The door to the bridge was sealed shut, and burning hot. Obi-Wan could feel heat radiating from it as he tried to open it. A fire raged on the other side. Ignoring the pain, he tried to wedge his fingers in the crack and pull it open.
“It’s no use,” Si Treemba told him. “That’s a fire door. It locks if the bridge is burning.”
Obi-Wan backed from the door. The bridge must have taken a direct hit from one of the Togorian ships. But a hit from a heavy blaster or a proton torpedo would have done more than just start a fire. Most likely it had punched a hole in the hull.
It would be dangerous to try to open the door. There might only be a fire, but it could be worse. All the air could have escaped from the room.

Naval Weapons. Apparently only one of the heavier weapons fired by the pirates should be able to actually pierce the hull, but apparently even the lighter weapons could start a fire inside the bridge with a direct hit (thermal bleedthrough?).
Misc. Even this rather dingy ship has automated systems that seal the areas affected by the emergencies.

Carefully, Obi-Wan struggled to calm himself, to use the Force. He could sense the latching mechanism, and it would take only a little effort to move it.
But then what? If he opened it, he could get pulled into space. Or toxic smoke could roil into the corridor and suffocate him, or the fire might spread into the halls.
He didn’t have a choice. He focused his attention and the door slid open.

The Force. With some concentration, Obi-Wan Kenobi can use telekinesis to manipulate a mechanism that he cannot see directly.

Immediately, a stiff wind knocked him on the back. The breath left Obi-Wan’s lungs, and the sips air whisked pat him, sucked into the vacuum of space. Obi-Wan grabbed the door frame to keep from getting sucked out. It was all he could do to hold on. Behind him, Si Treemba got a handhold on the edge of a control box.
The bridge had indeed been hit. Air screamed out through a small round hole up above the view port.
“I have to plug that hole!” Obi-Wan shouted to Si Treemba.
But before Obi-Wan could move, Si Treemba dropped to the floor. He crawled across the bridge, reaching for handhold after handhold. Obi-Wan could only hang on to the door frame and watch. He couldn’t stop Si Treemba and he couldn’t help him.
Si Treemba reached for a spherical compass - the round metal object that served as a backup in case the main nav computer was hit or disabled. Fighting the screaming wind, Si Treemba stumbled to the hull and released the compass near the hole. The vacuum sucked it in, and immediately the rushing air quieted.
“Good Work!” Obi-Wan called as he ran to the pilot console. The captain and his copilot were still strapped into their seats, drowsy from loss of air. In another minute, they’d have suffocated. As it was, both men were unconscious. The room felt hot. Blaster fire had ripped through the navigation terminal, and metal slag pooled everywhere. But with so little air in the room, the fire had gone out.

Androids and Computers. Apparently, ships usually carry a back-up in case the navigational computer is somehow damaged.
Naval Weapons. The fact that the shot apparently was just powerful enough to pierce the hull and melt some of the controls strongly suggests that the pirates can decide how much power they put into their weapons with a fair amount of precision.

Togorian warships surrounded the Monument. A heavy cruiser that had been refitted as a gun ship edged nearer. Its shields had to be down for it to be so close.
A red light blinked insistently on Obi-Wan’s console. In a daze he realized that the forward proton torpedo tubes were loaded and armed. They were standard defensive gear for transports traveling in such a region. His targeting computer was down, but he aimed for the bridge of the gun ship without it.
His heart pounded. He was afraid of what he had to do. He hoped Qui-Gon was tight, the pirates wouldn’t dare fire back with their own men aboard. Because if they did fire, they’d hit with everything they had.
“What are you going to do, Obi-Wan?” Si Treemba asked, holding on to the bridge console.
“Send a message to the Togorians,” Obi-Wan answered grimly. “We’re not dead yet!”
Reaching across the console, he launched the proton torpedoes.
[...]
A blinding flash as bright as a solar flare lit space as the proton torpedoes struck the Togorian gun ship.
Obi-Wan shielded his eyes from the intense light. Si Treemba cried out.
Half of the gun ship disintegrated, hurtling debris into space. A second blast followed the first, as the gun ship’s arsenal exploded.
Bits of metal riddled the Monument. A huge section of the blown gun ship hurtled into a second Togorian warship.
Obi-Wan didn’t plan to wait and see if the pirates would shoot him down. While they recovered, he hit a button, loading more torpedoes into his launch tube.
With the navigation console out, the only way to fly the ship was manually. Obi-Wan grabbed the control, pulled back hard, and hit the thrusters. He heard the harsh sound of metal rending. Had he just ruined the engines?
Quickly, he consulted the display terminals. He saw the source of the sound. Two Togorian cruisers were latched to his docking bays. By blasting off, Obi-Was was ripping away from the ships - tearing apart seals to the doors.

Realism. Actually, I'm not sure if this fits here, but it seems that turning a heavy cruiser into a gun ship is considered an upgrade. That seems to go against Earth based naval traditions.
Naval Weapons. Proton torpedoes are standard issue for transports operating in areas with pirate activity. An unspecified number of them is enough to cause critical damage to an unshielded pirate warship.
Shields and Forcefields. It is clear that active shields wouldn't have allowed the Togorians to put their gunship in close proximity with the Monument. It might be possible that they don't use the usual hull-hugging shields.

A Togorian pirate captain lunged down the corridor, bursting through the screen of smoke. He was huge, nearly twice as tall as a man. His black body armor was scarred and pitted from a thousand fights. A Human skull dangled from a chain around his neck. His fur was dark as night, and his green eyes gleamed wickedly.
He carried a huge vibro-ax in one hand, an energy shield in the other. The pirates pointed ears were drawn back flat against his skull. He stepped forward to meet it.
“Meet your death, Jedi!” the Togorian pirate roared. “I have hunted your kind before, and I will gnaw your bones tonight!”
Suddenly, Qui-Gon realized that the pirates behind their dark captain were retreating, back toward the hold. There was nowhere to go back there, except another access tunnel. The pirates were probably trying to circle behind him.
Clat’Ha rushed forward and fired her blaster. The Togorian raised his shield against it, deflecting it easily. Then he raised his deadly vibro-ax. With only the slightest touch, the weapon could sever a man’s head. Qui-Gon moved forward in one flowing movement, his lightsaber held high.
[...]
The floor lurched under Qui-Gon’s feet as he met the pirate captain. The huge Togorian weighed four times as much as a man.
Even under normal circumstances, it would have been all the Qui-Gon could do to fend off the pirate. He tried to catch his footing as he blocked the monster’s blow.
The pirate almost fell, but recovered in time to raise the vibro-ax. The blade bit deep into Qui-Gon’s right shoulder, driving him to the floor.
Qui-Gon gasped from the searing pain. His shoulder burned as if it were on fire. He tried to lift his arm, but it was useless.
Behind the pirate, Qui-Gon heard the sound of peeling metal. The seals to hold had ripped apart. Wind howled down the hall as the ship’s air screamed away. Qui-Gon saw droplets of his own blood stripped away like rain in a storm.
Debris came hurtling down the hall - blasters and helmets of dead Togorians. They battered the huge Togorian pirate, and he raised his shield, fighting forward, pressing the attack.
Qui-Gon let the wind pull him, so that he slid along the floor toward the vacuum of space, closer to the pirate captain.
If he died, he would take the monster with him.

Ground Combat. Evidence of Gungan style personal shields outside Naboo over a decade before The Phantom Menace. Also, a description of the cutting power of vibroweapons. Oddly enough, it is stated that Qui Gon blocks the Togorian's attack with his lightsaber, but there is no mention of damage to the vibro-axe.
The Force. Apparently, the sudden movement of the ship was something that Qui Gon didn't expect and allows the Togorian to gain the upper hand. Nonetheless, it is rather impressive that in normal conditions the Jedi would have been able to block the strike of a creature with four times the body mass of a human.

Heavy blaster fire ripped through the hull of the Monument. The Togorian warship had taken aim at the bridge, but with the sudden thrust of the huge ship, the blaster bolts had struck the ship behind their mark.
Obi-Wan pushed away the thought of who might have died in the attack. He reversed thrusters.
The warship’s next salvo fell short, blasting harmlessly into space. Obi-Wan took half a moment to aim his proton torpedoes, the launched them down the warship’s gullet.
[...]
The Togorian warship exploded in a burst of light.
Si Treemba worked at the communications console, launching distress beacons. It might take days for a Republic ship to respond, or one could arrive in a matter of seconds. It was impossible to know who would be traveling the space lanes.
Suddenly the Togorian warships peeled away from the Monument. Their gun ship and warship were destroyed. Their captain’s cruiser and second boarding vessel had ripped away from the Monument’s hull, and dead pirates could be seen littering space.
The last of the pirates blasted off into hyperspace, never guessing that they’d been bested by a twelve-year-old boy.

Naval Weapons. Another salvo of proton torpedoes blows a warship (and in this case there is no mention of deactivated shields). In contrast, the Togorians weapons hit the aging freighter several times without causing critical damage. Either those pirate ships use substandard technology, are very lightly armed and/or are simply very small.
Communications. A distress signal might be answered in a matter of seconds or days. Presumably this depends on how far away the Republic ships are. At any rate, this implies that it is possible to receive transmissions while in hyperspace.
Sensors. "It was impossible to know who would be traveling the space lanes" may mean that the Monument doesn't have sensors to watch hyperspace from real space.

Down the hall was a bulkhead door that should have closed automatically when the air pressure dropped. But with all the damage to the ship, it was no surprise that it hadn’t worked.
Qui-Gon was bleeding badly, and could hardly breathe. Weakly, with the last of his will, he reached out with the Force and moved a bit of debris, touching the controls to the door and sliding it closed. As the wind stopped screaming through the ship, everything became deathly silent.

The Force. Qui-Gon can use telekinesis with some degree of accuracy despite being badly wounded, exhausted and adverse environmental conditions.

Obi-Wan flew over a watery world from daylight into darkness, to a night lit by five glowing moons that hung in the sky like multicolored stones. Beneath him, enormous creatures flew in great flocks. They were silvery in the moonlight, with long bullet-shaped bodies and powerful wings. They looked like some strange species of flying fish whose wings had evolved to a remarkable size. They stretched their wings wide, half-asleep as they rode the wind. Some of them looked up at his ship curiously.
Clinging to the manual controls, with the ship buckling and rattling, Obi-Wan could see only ocean in every direction. Then, at last, on the horizon ahead he glimpsed one small rocky island, waves breaking against its shore.
He aimed the ship at the rock, held tight to the controls, and groaned with effort as he tried to slow the ship’s fall.

Misc. Even after taking some pretty serious battle damage, the Monument can make a controlled landfall.

-CHAPTER 14

Qui-Gon’s injuries would have been severe to a common man, but the Jedi waited until others were attended to before requesting the medic droid to bandage him in his room. Clat’Ha refused to leave his side, no matter how he urged her to rest.
[...]
Obi-Wan reached Qui-Gon’s cabin just as the medic doid finished spraying a disinfectant bandage over Qui-Gon’s ghastly wound. Then he began to glue the wound closed. The pirate chieftain’s vibro-ax had slashed Qui-Gon across the back of his shoulders, down to the ribs. Obi-Wan felt dizzy just looking at the wound, but Qui-Gon sat quietly, letting the droid do his work.
“You’re lucky to be alive,’ the medic droid told qui-Gon. “But your wounds should heal in time. Are you sure you don’t want something to ease the pain?”
“No, I’ll be fine,” Qui-Gon answered, his voice steady.

The Force. Severe sounds about right. Even though this seems to be "just" a flesh wound, the way Qui-Gon handles the pain is impressive.

-CHAPTER 15

Jemba and his men had taken over the Arconans’ lounge. A wall of Offworld miners - Hutts, Whiphids, Humans, and droids - backed Jemba. The Offworlders stood ready for battle. Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and Arconans stared down the barrels of at least thirty blasters. Some of the Offworld thugs also held shields and wore armor. Jemba’s men obviously held more than just the Arconans’ dactyl. They held most of the ship’s weapons.

Ground Combat. Another mention of personal shields, although it isn't specified if this means an energy shield or a more mundane one made of metal.

“It is not justice you seek, Jemba,” Qui-Gon tried to reason. “You hope only to satisfy your greed. Nothing will be solved this way. Put down your weapons.”
Qui-Gon called on the Force, trying to coax the Hutt to stop this madness. But for hours now he’d been focusing on his wound, trying to speed its healing, ignoring his own pain. He was too weak to persuade the Hutt.
Jemba waved a hand, as if testing the air. “Ooh, is that your powerful Force I feel? Ha!” he spat. “Your Jedi tricks are so puny, they make me laugh. They cannot work on the great Jemba. And look at you, Jedi. You’d don’t have the sense to stay out of the way of a vibro-ax. Anyone can see you are too frail to fight. There is nothing you can do to stop me.”

The Force. Qui Gon cannot mind trick a Hutt after focusing for several hours in healing his wounded shoulder.

“A wise move, little one,” Jemba said. Then the Hutt broke into a deep laugh. He shouted across the room to the Arconans, “I want workers. And I am willing to pay well.”
The Hutt’s voice created a small echo. Behind Qui-Gon, Arconans began to mutter restlessly, almost a humming sound.
Clat’Ha shouted, “Offworld doesn’t pay its workers well!”
Jemba pounded his chest. “I will pay in food and dactyl!” he said. “For a day of labor, I will give my workers a day of life!”
“You offer to pay these people with dactyl that you stole from them?” Obi-Wan asked. He could not believe what he heard. It was all he could do to restrain from launching himself across the room to hack Jemba to pieces.
Jemba smiled hugely. “Indeed. Those who work for me will live. Those who do not will die. What better pay could I give?”

Culture. Apparently, Jemba thinks that he can get away with blackmailing hundreds of free individuals into slavery, right in front of two Jedi, after stealing from his would-be victims a substance essential for their survival. Either the Hutt is a complete moron or the Republic has some truly fucked up laws regulating slavery.

The Arconans stopped and looked back. “We are miners,” Si Treemba said. “Whether we live under Jemba, or under another, it matters not.”
“But, Si Treemba, what of your freedom?” Obi-Wan asked. “You can’t just give it up!”
Si Treemba looked at him sadly. “You are our friend, Obi-Wan. But you do not understand. Humans may value freedom as much as life. But we do not.” As a group, the Arconans turned and headed toward Jemba.
Obi-Wan struggled to understand his friend’s words. Arconans were hatched in nests where they shared everything. On Arcona, they dug in the soil for deep roots that held water and food. They relied upon one another wholly. Once on Bandomeer, they would mine for Jemba. As long as their community survived, as long as we remained, freedom did not matter.

Alien Biology. Further information about the unusual gregarious mindset of Arconans

-CHAPTER 17

“Yoda once told me that there are trillions of people in the galaxy, and only a few thousand Jedi Knights. He said we cannot try to right every wrong. All creatures must learn to stand for what is right, and not always rely upon the Jedi. Perhaps that is what the Arconans must do. I don’t know about the future. But today I choose not to fight.”

Size and Scope. According to Obi-Wan's recollection of a comment made by Yoda, galactic population is measured in trillions. Although the figures given for the Jedi match what we know about the Order during this period, this aren't exactly the most reliable figures ever.

-CHAPTER 18

Qui-Gon’s Jedi healing techniques required him to put all his energy toward knitting his torn muscles and fighting infection. Yet time and again he found his thoughts returning to Obi-Wan, to the look of defeat on the boy’s face during their talk.
[...]
He had risen too soon. Qui-Gon felt his way back to the sleep-couch. This time, he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
When he woke in the early morning, his right arm was stiff but better. A ship’s droid had mended and cleaned his robes. As he donned them, he realized he was hungry. It was a good sign.

The Force. Jedi healing techniques demand full focus in the regenerative process. No concentration = no healing. Seems straightforward enough. At any rate, Qui Gon is mostly recovered from the horrible wound he got during his fight against the Togorian after less than a day.

As he headed for the kitchen, he saw that the ship was abuzz. Arconans rushed past him, carrying crates of their personal belongings.
He asked one what was wrong.
“The tide is coming in,” the Arconan said, “and it may swamp the ship. The engines are all down for repair, and we won’t get them up in time. We have been ordered to evacuate.”
“Evacuate?” Qui-Gon asked in surprise. With the draigons outside, that sounded dangerous. “Evacuate to where?”
“Into the hills, higher up on the island. The ships crew found some caves. We must reach them before the sun is in the sky and the draigons waken.” The Arconans rushed away, heavy packs and boxes in tow.
[...]
She looked up when he entered the room. “You’d better hurry and pack,” she said. “The tide is coming in fast and the sun will rise soon. We have to get off the ship.” She grinned as she pushed a strand of red-brown hair out of her eyes. He green eyes gleamed with mischief. “Jemba is furious. Maybe he’s afraid he won’t fit in a cave.”
“Why is he so angry?” Qui-Gon asked curiously.
Clat’Ha shrugged. “Because it’s something out of his control, I suppose. At first he thought the crew was lying. But even he had to realize we could drown if we stayed. It was almost worth it just to see him back down.”

Misc. So the high tide can flood the ship? It seems incredibly stupid that a ship designed to move through the vacuum of space cannot provide shelter against seawater (the ship landed right next to the shore, so we aren't talking about great depths in this one), but it might be just the consequence of the extensive battle damage that the ship suffered during the Togorian ambush.

EDIT: Correction of faulty quote tags.

-CHAPTER 19

Cautiously, Qui-Gon Jinn inched up a ledge that no Humans should have been able to climb. In a pouring rain, he grasped small crevices with his fingers and toes, barely holding on.
He knew that he had to hurry. He had spent extra time approaching from the side of the mountain, knowing he would be too easy to spot if he climbed directly up.
But at last he’d come to a point where he had to risk exposure. From now on, his path was straight up.
[...]
His fingers were chafed and bleeding. Nearby, lightning split the sky and thunder snarled. The sky was dark and lowering. Wind gusted and whistled among the stones.
He felt terribly exposed. He was a big man, a large target for the draigons. A flash of lightning could expose his position – or even knock him to his death.
He stopped for a long moment, panting. Rain poured down his forehead and made his clothes feel heavy. He felt half-frozen, and still weak from the wounds the pirate had dealt. He glanced toward the ocean. Not far off, a gleaming draigon dropped like a blaster bolt toward the sea, its wings folded.
[...]
Qui-Gon did not dare looked down. Up above him a few hundred meters, he could see a faint mist vented from a crevice blowing wildly in the wind. It would take the sharp eye of someone who knew what they were looking for, but the mist was definitely tinted with yellow.
The dactyl would be there.

The Force. Less than two days after fighting the Togorian pirates, Qui-Gon is shown freeclimbing a cliff hundreds of meters high that allegedly no human should have been able to climb, under extremely adverse conditions. Nothing really quantifiable about this one, beyond the fact that Jedi can do pretty superhuman things even when injured, although it seems that even Qui Gon considers the endeavour to be risky.

There was a flash just above his head. Splinters of rock stung his cheek.
For half a moment, he thought that a lightning bolt had nearly pierced him. But he realized that it was too small.
A blaster. Someone had shot at him!
Qui-Gon craned his neck, and tried to look down. He spotted them immediately in the rocks below. It was difficult for a Hutt to hide. It was Grelb, Jemba’s errand boy. He slithered along, flanked by several Whiphids. They raised heavy blaster rifles and fired again. The Hutt laughed merrily.
Blaster bolts exploded all around Qui-Gon.
His lightsaber was useless. There was nowhere to hide, no way to fight.
Painfully, Qui-Gon struggled upward.
[...]
So Grelb told his cronies, “Take your time. Have some fun.”
His Whiphids whimpered in delight. They loved to torment helpless creatures. They kept up a steady barrage of fire, purposely missing the Jedi with every shot. They hit just close enough to try to terrify the Jedi.
Grelb chortled, “Look at him squirm, boys! Reminds me of that puffer I ate for dinner last night!”
But the truth was, the Jedi did not squirm. He didn’t cringe, or try to scramble away. His pace didn’t change at all. Slowly, methodically, he climbed the cliff face, even as rock splintered millimeters from his face.

The Force. Pretty self-explanatory. A good Jedi can keep his cool while being attacked.

Grelb frowned. He did not want the Whiphids to complain. He needed their loyalty. “How about a bet?” he suggested. “See who can blow off his boot.”
“Excellent!” the first Whiphid cried. “Bet you five I can knock off his boot in one shot!”
“In one shot?” his companion hooted. And the bet was on.

Ground Combat. The heavy blasters that the Whiphids are using apparently allow for pretty good targeting, if one of them is willing to put money on the line about his ability to hit a small (slowly) moving target with poor luminosity.

Grelb turned to look at the Whiphid marksman, and there standing hugely at Grelb’s back was a draigon. It had landed so silently, he had not heard it.
It was the first he’d seen up close. The draigon had tiny silver scales over all of its body, and huge yellow eyes like those on a fish. It had no front legs, only a single huge claw on each wing. And its mouth had the strangest teeth – like enormous needles that arced down from its gums. The monster vaguely reminded him of an Ithorian razor shark.
The huge reptile had half of the Whiphid marksman in its mouth.

Realism. Meet the dominant life form of an unnamed oceanic world somewhere in the Mid-Rim. The fact that this creaure has a mouth large enough to contain half of an adult Whiphid (which average at 2.5 meters) suggests that we are probably talking about a creature roughly as large as the bigger Theropods. Of course, this means that these creatures are as biologically viable as your average dragon.

The blaster fire was coming fast as ever. The guns made a steady boom boom boom.
But the shots were no longer directed at him. Instead, the Whiphids had hidden in the rocks, firing at the draigons. The blaster fire attracted them by the score, and draigons roared in the sky, flocking down from the cliffs. Several of the huge beasts had collasped around the Whiphids, but others were wheeling from the skies in a feeding frenzy.

Ground Combat. The Whiphid's blasters are powerful enough to kill a number of dinosaur sized creatures, before getting overrun by pure numerical superiority. I'd also make some comments about the realism of scores of large, active predators living together like this, but it is marginally possible that the oceans of this world are teeming with enough life to sustain a population of predators like this one.

The huge hairy Whiphids danced among the rocks, shooting their blasters and bellowing war cries. They made quite a diversion.
Fortunately for Grelb, young Hutts – like certain kinds of worms and slugs – are adept at squeezing through tight holes and wedging themselves between rocks.
Thus Grelb moved quickly away from the huge Whiphids, and let them battle the draigons alone.

Alien Biology. Self-explanatory... Do we know if Hutts are vertebrates? Earlier in the book, Jemba couldn't enter a cabin designed for human passengers onboard the Monument. Combined with the emphasis on how only young Hutts can do this, it might mean that something weird happens with the internal configuration of a Hutt body when they finally reach biological maturity.

Suddenly, in the middle of his desperation, Qui-Gon felt something odd – a faint ripple in the Force. As he concentrated, it grew stronger. Someone was calling him, a Jedi.
Obi-Wan needs me!, he realized.
Astonished, he pressed himself farther back in the cave. He needed to be calm, to think. The boy shouldn’t have been able to call him. Obi-Wan was not his Padawan. They were not connected.
But he had no time to wonder about the call’s meaning. It was urgent and must be obeyed. Hearing movement, Qui-Gon quickly glanced toward the cave opening. For a moment the draigon beat its wings against the stones, blocking Qui-Gon’s escape. Then suddenly it dropped from its clumsy perch.
Long had Qui-Gon followed the ways of the Force. Now he felt it beckon him. Run, it commanded. Go to Obi-Wan.
Qui-Gon’s heart pounded. He ran three steps and leaped from the mouth of the cave, knowing that two hundred meters below, the sharp rocks stuck up like swords. Yet he trusted the Force.
He did not fall even a dozen meters. His leap carried him straight to a draigon!
He hit the beast’s neck with a thud. The creature was wet and slimy. Qui-Gon almost slipped off, but clung to its scaly hide with the tips of his fingers. The sore muscles in his shoulder throbbed and burned. He managed to swing his legs up and over, so that he was riding squarely on the draigon’s back.
The creature roared in terror. It had been flying up to eat the Jedi. Now it shook its neck, trying to throw him off. It shrieked again and again, then wheeled in panic and flapped its wings, dropping toward the sea.
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.

The Force. So... let's see all we have here: 1) Somewhat limited telepathic communication between Qui Gon and Obi-Wan, which greatly surprises Qui Gon; 2) the Force tells Qui Gon the right moment to jump out of the cave without getting himself killed; 3) Qui Gon apparently isn't hurt at all after falling twelve meters; 4) Qui Gon can mentally dominate a feral creature wiht some difficulty (although he cannot control it for long). Did I get everything or did I miss something in this scene?

-CHAPTER 20

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.

Culture. Jemba presumably planned to kill/enslave all the witnesses (he definitely has the means to do it, after all), because I simply can't believe that a random Hutt businessman can admit that he has ordered his hired thugs to go kill a Jedi without consequences.
The Force. Anger has obviously negative effects for a Jedi. Here, Obi-Wan doesn't even feel his end of the bond with Qui Gon Jinn until he calms down.

One Whiphid fired his blaster at Obi-Wan’s retreating form, but Obi-Wan managed to bring his lightsaber over his back and deflect the blow. He raced through the tunnels, past the startled Hutts and Whiphids. His need to find Qui-Gon was overpowering. He was astonished to feel the Jedi Knight’s warning call, to feel this connection.

The Force. Self-explanatory. Obi-Wan is mostly focused in meeting Qui Gon, but even under these conditions shooting him from behind doesn't work too well.

-CHAPTERS 21 & 22

“There my friend,” Qui-Gon said to the draigon. He pointed toward the caves. The dozen passages to the cavern were all set within a single hill, and from the sky the cave mouths looked like wormholes.
Qui-Gon fought to control the draigon’s mind, bring it safely to the ground. He was worried. As far as the eye could see, draigons flocked toward the caves. Their roars were deafening as they called to each other.
Qui-Gon had seen the giant trees in the Silver Forest of Dreams on the planet Kubindi. Some of their vast leaves could be twenty meters wide, and when they fell in the autumn, they floated like giant rafts through the sky. That is what the draigons reminded him of. They dropped through the leaden skies, just as the leaves floated from the Kubindi forests.
Yet these creatures were deadly; and like Qui-Gon, they were headed toward the caves.
Qui-Gon called with his mind, warning young Obi-Wan Kenobi again of the danger. Then he waited as the draigon wafted downward, close to the narrow ledge outside the caves. Qui-Gon chose his moment, then sprang off the back of the beast. He landed on the ledge, steadying himself with a hand against the outside wall of the cave. The draigon flew off with a soft confused cry, his mind released.

Realism. So large predators that gather in retardedly large numbers to attak an entrenched enemy that can actually fight back (the initial Whiphid party was able to kill several of them). I'd suggest that this is a bit less realistic than Eight Legged Freaks, but I risk turning this into a full blown rant, so...

Obi-Wan ran from the cave only to stop short. He stared at the sky in horror.
At first, he’d thought it was just dark clouds. But now he realized that scores of draigons were blocking the sun. And they were all winging toward the caves.
[...]
“Still alive, but barely. Go, Qui-Gon. I’ll hold the mouth of the cave.”
Obi-Wan expected Qui-Gon to argue, to send him back into the cave with the dactyl. The Jedi Knight merely gazed at him for a tenth of a second. In the master’s eyes, Obi-Wan saw respect and acceptance.
“I will return,” Qui-Gon promised, and rushed into the caves.
In seconds, the draigons were on Obi-Wan. His lightsaber slashed and burned, sizzled and shrieked. Draigons roared in pain and fell before him. He was fighting better and stronger than he ever had, ever thought he could.
But he knew he could not hold the draigons off for long.
[...]
The battle was like none Obi-Wan had ever imagined. He felt no fear. He had accepted his death. The odds were just too great against him. Now he only fought to protect the Arconans. He felt no anger. He did not hate the hungry beasts that dropped endlessly from the blackened skies.
The Force was his ally.
He could feel it moving him, moving through him, and through the draigons. He leaped and somersaulted. He spun and slashed through muzzles and claws. The battle became a dance of sheer survival.
As he danced, Obi-Wan changed. He felt subtle promptings he’d never felt before. He saw attacks before they came. He sensed the flail of a tail before it happened. The muscles of the draigons seemed incredible defined, so that he could read tiny flickers of movements that revealed which way a draigon would turn. Dead draigons piled on the ground around him. He gave himself entirely to the dance.
After several long minutes, he began backing toward the mouth of the cave. He had an idea. If he could kill the draigons at the very mouth of the cave, the bodies would block the entrance. If enough entrances were blocked, they might have a chance.

The Force. Probably self-explanatory, but when Kenobi finally manages to get his anger under control, his connection with the Force improves making him stronger, faster and greatly improving his precognitive abilities.

Grelb squeezed between two flat rocks and lay for a moment, his heavy blaster in hand, staring down at the caves. He’d missed his chance to kill Qui-Gon Jinn. The big Jedi had already raced into the caves. But his pupil guarded the moth of the cavern, lightsaber ready.
He wanted the Master, but the pupil would have to do for now.
Draigons hurtled from the sky by the dozens, converging on the lad. Even Grelb had to admire the young Jedi’s skill. His lightsaber struck again and again, and the boy showed no sign of tiring. It was almost a pity to kill him.
Lightning split the sky. Rain pounded the stones over Grelb’s head. One good thing about hiding under these rocks – at least it was dry.
He raised his blaster rifle and tried to aim at the young Jedi. The boy’s lightsaber flashed among the draigons.
All I need now, Grelb thought, is one brief moment to pull of my shot. Just one . . .
[...]
“Well done, little one!” Jemba chortled. The enormous Hutt slithered from the shadows farther back in the cave. He held an oversized blaster rifle.
Obi-Wan barely had time to glance at the Hutt, for three draigons had gathered at the mouth of the cave.
“Help me!” Obi-Wan called to Jemba as he fought. It would be easy for the Hutt to shoot the draigons. He could help with his plan. Obi-Wan knew he wouldn’t care to save him, but Jemba would certainly want to save himself.
“Of course,” Jemba chortled. “I’ll help you – to death!” He raised his blaster rifle and aimed.
Grelb huddled beneath his rock. Draigons lay at Obi-Wan Kenobi’s feet. The boy stood with the mouth of the cave yawning wide behind him.
The Hutt chuckled softly. He saw his chance and squeezed the trigger of his blaster.
The bolt shot out – but the Grelb’s surprise, young Obi-Wan must have sensed it coming, for he dodged to the side. The bolt barely missed him.
[...]
Obi-Wan stood panting. He’d felt the Force, had dodged as the blaster bolt came from nowhere and sizzled past his head. Perhaps no one felt as surprised as Jemba the Hutt.
The enormous Hutt took the blaster bolt in the chest. For the briefest moment, Jemba stared down at his wound in disbelief. “Well, ha!” he laughed in horror.
His surprised eyes stared into Obi-Wan’s for a moment. Thunder boomed and lightning flashed. Then Jemba slumped onto the muddy ground and died.

The Force. A very good example of combat precog at work. Grelb tries to play sniper with Obi-Wan, but his shot fails despite Kenobi being busy with dozens of attacking "draigons" and another Hutt preparing to shoot him from the front. One wonders how HK-47 managed to hit Jedi with his sniper rifle during the KOTOR period.

-CHAPTER 23

The miners’ work force was nearly cut in half. While the Arconans grieved, Clat’Ha made plans for their future. She went to one of Jemba’s chieftains, a Hutt named Aggaba, and said, “Aggaba, I want to hire you and your people.”
“Which ones?” Aggaba asked suspiciously.
“All of you,” she said. “You’re temporarily the head of these men, until you reach Bandomeer. I’ll buy out your contracts.”
“And then what?” Aggaba asked. He had a cunning look in his eyes, as if he wondered how he might make a profit.
“I’ll offer all of you an invitation to work for our mining company,” Clat’Ha said. “We share the profits, so it’s a step up for you. Think about it. When we get to Bandomeer, your bosses there will demote you, put someone else in over your head. This is your chance to escape from Offworld Mining, get decent jobs that will pay you better now, and in the long run.”
Aggaba licked his lips and stared around like a cornered Jawa. “Out contracts would not be cheap,” he said. “I would want, say, two thousand per worker.”
“Any money I give you,” Clat’Ha countered, “would just go back to your corporate headquarters. So how about I make you a better offer. I’ll give you twenty for each worker, and a personal bonus of twenty thousand just for signing with me.”
Aggaba’s eyes grew wide with delight. Clat’Ha hid her own glee. Aggaba would accept the deal out of greed. But the rest of the workers would have their freedom.

Economics. Twenty thousand Republic credits seems to be enough to convince a Hutt to risk the wrath of a company like Offworld by "deserting" them and handing a few hundred slave miners to a direct competitor. This is more or less reasonable, considering that the bounties that the Separatists offered for high ranking Jedi during the Clone Wars were in the 100,000-500,000 credits range, IIRC. However, this isn't in line with the prices seen in the OTL, where Luke got two thousand creds for a used landspeeder, suggesting that the unitary value of the Imperial credit might be lower than that of the Republic credit. Or it could be a simple inconsistency. It wouldn't exactly be the first in this book.

-CHAPTER 24

Both of them were going to Bandomeer, and Qui-Gon had an uneasy feeling about this assignment.
And there was a further matter. It was not a simple thing for one Jedi to touch the mind of another. It was an intimate thing, the kind of thing usually only done between the closest friends. Or between a Knight and his Padawan.

The Force. Self-explanatory. Direct mental contact between Jedi is a relative rarity. It certainly explains how certain members (like Dooku) avoid being sent to the nuthouse.

-AFTERWORD

Obi-Wan Kenobi had been raised in the Jedi Temple at Coruscant, a world teeming with people, a world whose every piece of land was covered by skyscrapers.
When the Monument dropped through the atmosphere of Bandomeer, he marveled at the jungles and plains, the broad expanses of empty land and wide sea. He’d never imagined that there could be so much wilderness on one planet.
The port on Bandomeer was a small building, a hanger that could barely hold a freighter the size of the Monument. Obi-Wan followed Qui-Gon cautiously from the ship.
A planetary police officer was waiting. When he saw Qui-Gon, he hurried over. “Welcome. My offices will of course be at you disposal.
Qui-Gon nodded. “Can you tell me what this is all about? The Supreme Chancellor said that you requested my help – mine specifically.”

Misc. Bandomeer (AKA Unimportant World #3435322) apparently can barely hold a large freighter like the Monument in the starport of its capital city, but a request from its government can gain the attention of the Supreme Chancellor himself. The joys of minimalism, I guess.

Well. That's all, I guess. Comments?