his left eye, which he had lost in the battle with that same Trade Federation a decade before. Typho had been just a teenager then, but had shown himself well, and made his uncle Panaka proud. 'And no offense meant. But on this issue concerning the creation of an army of the Republic, you have remained firmly in the court of negotiation over force. Would not the separatists agree with your vote?'
When Padme put her initial outrage aside and considered the point, she had to agree.
'Count Dooku has thrown in with Nute Gunray, say the reports,' Panaka cut in, his tone flat and determined. 'That mere fact demands that we tighten security about Senator Amidala.'
'Please do not speak about me as though I am not here,' she scolded, but Panaka didn't blink.
'In matters of security, Senator, you are not here,' he replied. 'At least, your voice is not. My nephew reports to me, and his responsibilities on this matter cannot be undermined. Take all precautions.'
With that, he bowed curtly and walked away, and Padme suppressed her immediate desire to rebuke him. He was right, and she was better off because he dared to point it out. She looked back at Captain Typho.
'We will be vigilant, Senator.'
'I have my duty, and that duty demands that I soon return to Coruscant,' she said.
'And I have my duty,' Typho assured her, and like Panaka, he offered a bow and walked away.
Padme Amidala watched him go, then gave a great sigh, remembering Sola's words to her and wondering honestly if she would ever find the opportunity to follow her sister's advice- advice that she was finding strangely tempting at that particular moment. She realized then that she hadn't seen Sola, or the kids, or her parents, in nearly two weeks, not since that afternoon in the backyard with Ryoo and Pooja.
Time did seem to be slipping past her.
'It won't move fast enough to catch up to the Tuskens!' Cliegg Lars bellowed in protest as his son and future daughter-in-law helped him into a hoverchair that Owen had fashioned. He seemed oblivious to the pain of his wound, where his right leg had been sheared off at midthigh.
'The Tuskens are long gone, Dad,' Owen Lars said quietly, and he put his hand on Cliegg's broad shoulder, trying to calm him. 'If you won't use a mechno-leg, this powerchair will have to do.'
'You'll not be making me into a half-droid, that's for sure,' Cliegg retorted. 'This little buggy will do fine.'
'We'll get more men together,' he said, his voice rising frantically, his hand instinctively moving down to the stump of his leg. 'You get to Mos Eisley and see what support they'll offer. Send Beru to the farms.'
'They've no more to offer,' Owen replied honestly. He moved close to the chair and bent low, looking Cliegg square in the face. 'All the farms will be years in recovering from the ambush. So many families have been shattered from the attack, and even more from the rescue attempt.'
'How can you talk like that with your mother out there?' Cliegg Lars roared, his frustration boiling over-and all the more so because in his heart, he knew that Owen was speaking truthfully.
Owen took a deep breath, but did not back down from that imposing look. 'We have to be realistic, Dad. It's been two weeks since they took her,' he said grimly, leaving the implications unspoken. Implications that Cliegg Lars, who knew the dreaded Tuskens well, surely understood.
All of a sudden, Cliegg's broad shoulders slumped in defeat, and his fiery gaze softened as his eyes turned toward the ground. 'She's gone,' the wounded man whispered. 'Really gone.'
Behind him, Beru Whitesun started to cry.
Beside him, Owen fought back his own tears and stood calm and tall, the firm foundation determined above all to hold them together during this devastating time.
Chapter Four
The four starships skimmed past the great skyscrapers of Coruscant, weaving in and out of the huge amber structures, artificial stalagmites rising higher and higher over the years, and now obscuring the natural formations of the planet unlike anywhere else in the known galaxy. Sunlight reflected off the many mirrorlike windows of those massive structures, and gleamed brilliantly off the chrome of the sleek ships. The larger starship, which resembled a flying silver boomerang, almost glowed, smooth and flowing with huge and powerful engines set on each of its arms, a third of the way to the wingtip. Alongside it soared several Naboo starfighters, their graceful engines set out on wings from the main hulls with their distinctive elongated tails.
One of the starfighters led the procession, veering around and about nearly every passing tower, running point for the second ship, the Naboo Royal Cruiser. Behind that larger craft came two more fighters, running swift and close to the Royal Cruiser, shielding her, pilots ready to instantly intercept any threat. The lead fighter avoided the more heavily trafficked routes of the great city, where potential enemies might be flying within the cover of thousands of ordinary vehicles. Many knew that Senator Amidala of Naboo was returning to the Senate to cast her vote against the creation of an army to assist the overwhelmed Jedi in their dealings with the increasingly antagonistic separatist movement, and there were many factions that did not want such a vote to be cast. Amidala had made many enemies during her reign as Naboo's Queen, powerful enemies with great resources at their disposal, and with, perhaps, enough hatred for the beautiful young Senator to put some of those resources to work to her detriment.
In the lead fighter, Corporal Dolphe, who had distinguished himself greatly in the Naboo war against the Trade Federation, breathed a sigh of relief as the appointed landing platform came into sight, appearing secure and clear. Dolphe, a tough warrior who revered his Senator greatly, flew past the landing platform to the left, then cut a tight turn back to the right, encircling the great structure, the Senatorial Apartment Building, adjacent to the landing platform. He kept his fighter up and about as the other two fighters put down side by side on one end of the platform, the Royal Cruiser hovering nearby for just a moment, then gently landing.
Dolphe did another circuit, then, seeing no traffic at all in the vicinity, settled his fighter across the way from his companion craft. He didn't put it down all the way just yet, though, but remained ready to swivel about and strike hard at any attackers, if need be.
Opposite him, the other two fighter pilots threw back their respective canopies and climbed from their
