'So many?' He shook his head in confusion, noting several of the great battleships among the group; their unique design made them hard to miss-a sphere surrounded by a nearly enclosed ring. If the clone army was for the Republic, commissioned by a Jedi Master, and Jango Fett was the basis for the clones, then what ties would Jango have to the Trade Federation? And if Jango was indeed behind the assassination attempts on Senator Amidala, the leading voice of opposition to creating a Republic army, then why would the Trade Federation approve?
It occurred to Obi-Wan that he might have misjudged Jango, or misjudged his motivations, at least. Maybe Jango, like Obi-Wan and Anakin, had been chasing the bounty hunter who had tried to kill Amidala. Maybe the toxic dart had been fired not to silence the would-be assassin, but as punishment for the attempt on Amidala's life.
The Jedi couldn't convince himself of that, though. He still believed that Jango was the man behind the assassination attempt, and that he had killed the changeling so that she could not give him up. But why the clone army? And why the Trade Federation ties? There was no apparent logic to it. He knew that he would get no answers up here, so he took his ship down toward Geonosis, keeping the asteroid belt between him and the Trade Federation fleet.
He went down low as soon as he broke Geonosis' atmosphere, ducking below any tracking systems that might be in place, skimming the red plains and broken stones, weaving around the buttes and mesas. The whole of the planet seemed a barren and arid red plain, but his scanners did pick up some activity in the distance. Obi- Wan skimmed that way, climbing one mesa and running low to its far end. He slid his ship under a rocky overhang and put her down, then climbed out and walked to the mesa edge. The night air had a curious metallic taste to it, and the temperature was comfortable. A strong breeze blew in Obi-Wan's face, carrying that metallic taste and odor, and the occasional strange cry.
'I'll be back, Arfour.'
The droid gave a long 'ooooo.'
'You'll be fine,' Obi-Wan assured him. 'And I won't be long.' Glad to be back on the ground once again, Obi-Wan checked his bearings, measured against the area where he had noted the activity, and started off, moving along a rocky trail.
The hours were unbearable for Padme. Owen and Beru were friendly enough, and Cliegg was obviously glad for the added company in his time of great concern and profound grief, but she could hardly speak to them, so worried was she for Anakin. She had never seen him in a mood like the one that had taken him from the moisture farm, his determination so palpable, so consuming, that it seemed almost destructive. She had felt Anakin's power in that parting, an inner strength beyond anything she had ever known.
If his mother was indeed alive, and she believed that Shmi was, since Anakin had said so, Padme knew that no army would be strong enough to keep the young Jedi from her.
She didn't sleep that night, rising often from her bed and pacing all about the compound. She wandered into the garage area, alone with her thoughts-or so she believed.
'Hello, Miss Padme,' came a chipper voice, and as soon as Padme got over the initial shock, she recognized the speaker.
'You can't sleep?' C-3PO asked.
'No, I have too many things on my mind, I guess.'
'Are you worried about your work in the Senate?'
'No, I'm just concerned about Anakin. I said things… I'm afraid I might have hurt him. I don't know. Maybe I only hurt myself. For the first time in my life, I'm confused.'
'I'm not sure it will make you feel any better, Miss Padme, but I don't think there's been a time in my life when I haven't been confused.'
'I want him to know that I care about him, Threepio,' Padme said quietly.
'I do care about him. And now he's out there, and in danger-'
'Don't worry about Master Annie,' the droid assured her, moving over to pat her shoulder. 'He can take care of himself. Even in this awful place.'
'Awful?' Padme asked. 'You're not happy here?'
C-3PO stepped back and held his hands out wide, showing his battered coverings and the chipped insulation in those areas where some of his wiring showed. Padme moved forward, bending to see, and noticed sand clinging in many of the droid's joints.
'Well, this is a very harsh environment, I'm afraid,' the droid explained.
'And when Master Annie made me, he never quite found the time to give me any outer coverings. Mistress Shmi did well in finishing me, but even with the coverings, the wind and the sand are quite harsh. It gets in under my coverings, and it's quite… itchy.' 'Itchy?' Padme echoed with a laugh- a much-needed laugh.
'I do not know how else to describe it, Miss Padme. And I fear that the sand is doing damage to my wiring.'
Padme looked all around, her gaze settling on a chain hoist over an open tub of dark liquid. 'You need an oil bath,' she said.
'Oh, I would welcome a bath!'
Glad for the distraction, Padme moved to the oil tub and began sorting out the hoist chain. In a short while she had C-3PO secured and everything in place, and she gently lowered the droid into the oil.
'Oooh!' the droid cried. 'That tickles!'
'Tickles? You're sure it's not an itch?'
'I do know the difference between a tickle and an itch,' C-3PO answered.
Padme giggled and forgot, for a while, all of her troubles.
