all directions. Qui-Gon's long hair streamed out behind him in sharp contrast to the smooth horned head of his adversary. The pilot Ric took the spacecraft toward them quickly, skimming the ground barely higher than a speeder bike, coming in from behind the attacker. Anakin held his breath as they closed on the fighters. Ric's hand slid over the control that would lower the ramp, easing it forward carefully.
'Stand by,' he ordered, freezing them all in place as he swung the ship about.
The combatants disappeared in a fresh swirl of sand and the glare ofTatooine's twin suns. All eyes shifted quickly to the viewscreens, searching desperately.
Then Qui-Gon appeared, leaping onto the lowered rampway of the transport, gaining purchase, one hand grasping a strut for support. Ric hissed in approval and fought to hold the spacecraft steady. But the horned attacker was already in pursuit, racing out of the haze and leaping onto the ramp as the ship began to rise. Balanced precariously against the sway of the ship, eyes flaring in rage, he fought to keep his footing.
Qui-Gon attacked at once, rushing the other man, closing with him at the edge of the ramp. They were twenty meters into the air by now, the pilot holding the spacecraft steady as he saw the combatants come to grips yet again, afraid to go higher while Qui-Gon was exposed. The Jedi Master and his adversary filled the viewscreen commanding the rampway entrance, faces tight with determination and streaked with sweat.
'Qui-Gon,' Anakin heard the second Jedi say quietly, desperately, watching the battle for just a moment more, then tearing his eyes away from the viewscreen and racing down the open corridor.
On the screen, Anakin watched Qui-Gon Jinn step back, level his lightsaber, and swing a powerful, two- handed blow at his attacker. The horned man blocked it, but only barely, and in the process lost his balance completely. The blow's force swept him away, clear of the ramp and off into space. He dropped back toward the desert floor, landed in a crouch, and rose instantly to his feet. But the chase was over. He stood watching in frustration, yellow eyes aflame, as the ramp to the Queen's transport closed and the spacecraft rocketed away.
Qui-Gon had barely managed to scramble up the rampway and into the interior of the ship before the hatch sealed and the Nubian began to accelerate. He lay on the cool metal floor of the entry, his clothing dusty and damp with his sweat, his body bruised and battered. He breathed deeply, waiting for his pounding heart to quiet. He had barely escaped with his life, and the thought was worrisome. His opponent was strong and had tested him severely. He was getting old, he decided, and he did not like the feeling.
Obi-Wan and Anakin rushed down the hallway to help him to his feet, and it was hard to tell which of them looked the more worried. It made him smile in spite of himself.
The boy spoke first. 'Are you all right?' he asked, his young face mirroring his concern.
Qui-Gon nodded, brushing himself off. 'I think so. That was a surprise I won't soon forget.'
'What sort of creature was it?' Obi-Wan pressed, brow furrowed darkly. He wants to go back and pick up where I left off, Qui-Gon thought.
The Jedi Master shook his head. 'I'm not sure. Whoever or whatever he was, he was trained in the Jedi arts. My guess is he was after the Queen.'
'Do you think he'll follow us?' Anakin asked quickly.
'We'll be safe enough once we're in hyperspace,' Qui-Gon replied, sidestepping the question. 'But I have no doubt he knows our destination. If he found us once, he can find us again.'
The boy's brow furrowed. 'What are we going to do about it?' At this point, Obi-Wan turned to stare at the boy, giving him a look that demanded in no uncertain terms, 'What do you mean, we'? The boy caught the look and stared back at him, expressionless.
'We will be patient,' Qui-Gon advised, straightening himself, drawing their attention back to him. 'Anakin Skywalker, meet Obi-Wan Kenobi.'
The boy beamed. 'Pleased to meet you. Wow! You're a Jedi Knight, too, aren't you?'
The younger Jedi looked from the boy to Qui-Gon and rolled his eyes in despair.
From the entry, they made their way back down the hall to the cockpit, where Ric Olie was at work preparing the ship for the jump to hyperspace. Qui- Gon introduced Anakin to each of those present, then moved to the console to stand next to Ric. 'Ready,' the pilot announced over his shoulder, one eyebrow cocked expectantly.
Qui-Gon nodded. 'Let's hope the hyperdrive works and Watto doesn't get the last laugh.'
Standing in a group behind Ric, the company watched silently as he fitted his hands to the controls and engaged the hyperdrive. There was a quick, sharp whine, and the stars that filled the viewport turned from silver pinpricks to long streamers as the ship streaked smoothly into hyperspace, leaving Tatooine behind.
Night layover the planet ofNaboo, but the silence ofTheed exceeded even that normally experienced by those anticipating sleep. In the ornately appointed throne room that had once been the sole province of Queen Amidala, a strange collection of creatures gathered to witness the sentencing of Governor Sio Bibble. Trade Federation Viceroy Nute Gunray had convened the assembled, which consisted of Rune Haako and several other Neimoidians, the governor and a handful of officials in the Queen's service, and a vast array of battle droids armed with blasters to keep the Naboo prisoners in line.
The Neimoidian was seated in a mechno-chair, a robotic walker that bore him from one part of the room to another, metal legs moving in response to a simple touch of his fingers. It carried him to Sio Bibble and the Naboo officials now, jointed armatures working in careful precision, allowing him to remain relaxed and comfortable as he took note of the fear in the eyes of the officials backing Bibble.
The governor was having none of it, however. Steadfast even now, he faced Gunray with anger and determination, his. white head level, his eyes challenging. The Neimoidian glared at him; Sio Bibble was becoming a source of irritation.
'When are you going to give up this pointless strike?' he snapped at the governor, leaning forward cglightly to emphasize his displeasure.
'I will give up the strike, Viceroy, when the Queen-'
'Your Queen is lost; your people are starving!'
