"He's awake, and he's hungry. He's on the mend."
"That is so cute . . . ," Anakin said flatly.
"Try to see the positive side."
"Try to find him something more nourishing." Anakin fumbled in his pocket and tossed a small sealed package to her. "Here, he can have my dry rations. Hutts can digest anything. Just mash it all up with some water."
"Okay, I get it. You want to get Tatooine over with and get out."
Explaining was asking for trouble. He let her go on thinking he was just a Tatooine boy who hated Hutts, like a lot of other humans who came into contact with them.
The Twilight dropped out of hyperspace facing the twin suns, its viewport filters reducing the glare to an amber haze. Tatooine was just a black disk against the light.
"Ready, Artoo? Snips? Stinky?"
Ahsoka tightened her restraints. Rotta lay oblivious of his destiny on a ledge in the cockpit. "He's fed and sleeping."
"Okay, this is it. Snips, watch the scanner for anything that isn't supposed to be there."
Anakin set the Twilight on course and had the laser cannon on standby. He wondered if this would be one of those rare, lucky times when the predictable worst didn't happen, but life wasn't like that, and Dooku was only thinking the way Anakin would have in his position.
Tatooine loomed in the forward viewport, a mottled black and red dusty ball with high, wispy clouds that gave the false impression of seas on first glance. They'd hit the atmosphere soon. If anything was going to go wrong...
Sensor alarms sounded.
"Master, there's two traces on the scanner, moving on an intercept course," said Ahsoka.
Bang. Something smashed into the Twilight's hull. Anakin knew laserfire impact when he felt it.
"Ahsoka, stand by. I need to do a little maneuvering." Anakin swung the freighter in as tight a loop as he could and came about to face the attacking ships. He was expecting vultures, the ubiquitous air asset of the Separatist forces, but when he checked the scanner's magnified image what he could see picked out in the raw light from the twin suns was much, much worse.
Two MagnaGuard fighters-the elite personal guard of General Grievous-were pursuing the ship.
Anakin was nose-to-nose with them in terms of the scale of space. The cannon was charged and primed; his only option was to open fire, because he'd never outrun those, not even if he jettisoned every last bolt in the ship. The MagnaGuard fighters peeled away in opposite directions, looping to start an attack run on his blind spots.
Because that's what I would do if I were them. He could fire on only one. He picked the first one that flashed in the reticle of the targeting array, and squeezed the button set in the steering yoke. White bolts of energy streaked toward the fighter, and it was swallowed in a ball of white fire.
"Wow, good shooting!" Ahsoka gripped the armrests of her seat as if she were digging in claws. "One down, one to go!"
But, as Anakin had already worked out, life wasn't like that. He hated denting Ahsoka's faith in him to save them. Taking out a MagnaGuard with a crate like this was lucky, very lucky, and Anakin had used up most of his lucky quota for the day. The other MagnaGuard was nowhere to be seen. Then the trace showed up on the scanner again, and Grievous's finest looked as if it was making a run on the Twilight's stern.
It was. Laserfire smacked into the cargo bay section, setting off alarms across the console and throughout the ship. There was a hull breach; atmosphere was venting. The hull creaked and screamed as if something was going to shear off.
"Hang on," Anakin said, as if there were anything else they could do. "I think we lost a maneuvering thruster as well."
The freighter rolled. Ahsoka snapped off her restraints and dived like a bolo-ball goalkeeper to grab Rotta before he rolled off the ledge. R2-D2 thrust out a clasper arm to steady himself. Anakin was now ahead of the MagnaGuard fighter with no functioning aft cannon and a lot of space between him and a landing - if he could land at all. The ship shuddered again as more laser rounds hit it. Without an aft canon, Anakin needed to find a way of firing astern.
"Artoo, can you move the forward cannon past its safe range?" The arc of fire was limited so that freighter crews wouldn't blow their own vessel apart by firing too close to the hull. It was all too easily done when frantically emptying a magazine into a hostile vessel. "I need to move it one-eighty degrees."
The droid plunged a probe into the console and bleeped, explaining that he was overriding the safety control, but that it was a very bad idea.
"I think that's going to be academic, buddy," Anakin said.
More direct hits shook the freighter. "We won't have much hull left at this rate anyway."
R2-D2 burbled to himself, and Anakin waited long seconds for the okay to fire.
"Artoo, sometime before we plummet in flames would be good ..."
Then the Twilight shuddered dramatically as if in its death throes. Anakin waited for a ball of flame to come rolling through the ship, but the scanner showed an expanding ball of hot debris in the freighter's wake.
The MagnaGuard fighter was gone. R2-D2 spun his dome antenna in celebration, whistling happily. It was a very tight shot, he explained, and best done by a precise robotic hand, not a human, however good a gunner that human might be.
"Nice shot, Artoo," Anakin said. "I'll be out of a job soon if I don't buck up. If we useless meat-bags don't make it through a landing-you know where to take Rotta."
Hutts didn't have bones, and they were basically an immensely strong bag of muscle. Stinky might survive a crash that killed humanoids.
"Sorry, Snips. I got you into this." Tatooine rushed up to greet him, and with an out-of-control ship, Anakin was even less pleased to see it than he'd imagined. Comm silence wasn't an issue now. He needed to get a message to Kenobi, just in case it was his-and Ahsoka's-last. "Master, this is Anakin. Are you receiving me? I'm making a crash landing on Tatooine. Rotta's alive, hostiles in pursuit, and..."
He lost the comm frequency on reentry. But at least Kenobi now knew they'd come this far. He looked around to see Ahsoka shielding Rotta with her body. He didn't have the heart to tell her that she could have used a Hutt as a crash bag.
"Brace for impact," Anakin said. "Because this is going to hurt a bit."
* * *
PALPATINE'S OFFICE, SENATE BUILDING, CORUSCANT
Palpatine enjoyed Yoda's company, because the longer he sat smiling benignly at Yoda, and the longer the greatest Jedi Master failed to recognize Palpatine for what he was, the more satisfying the situation became.
So this is where centuries of wisdom-and power-gets you. Oblivious, smug, and self-serving.
General Kenobi was present at the meeting, too, but as a hologram. He was still mopping up the Separatist forces on Teth.
"Anakin's reached Tatooine," he said. "I've received a message that Jabba's son is alive and well, but the ship was under attack. I'm now convinced this kidnap was all part of a plot by Dooku to frame the Republic and alienate the Hutts."
Palpatine shook his head very slowly. "And will Jabba believe Dooku? He's not the most trusting of beings, even for a Hutt."
"If Jabba this believes, then ended is our hope of a treaty with them." Yoda frowned. "In Skywalker, the Republic's only hope lies. Return the Huttlet personally, he must."
"As ever, Master Yoda, you summarize the dilemma perfectly," said Palpatine. Yes, restate the obvious. Very effective leadership, Yoda. "General Kenobi, is Skywalker up to this task? I know he's an excellent soldier, but this is verging on a diplomatic assignment."
Kenobi nodded emphatically. "Don't worry. Anakin has more experience in dealing with Hutts than most of us. If anyone can placate Jabba and get him on our side, he can. Kenobi out."
The hologram vanished and Palpatine was left looking at Yoda. The Master had both hands clasped on the top of his cane, nodding, an image of senescence that didn't fool him one bit. Yoda might have let the Jedi fall into slow decline and comfortable expedience, but h
e still wasn't safe to write off.
Palpatine leaned forward on his desk, fingers meshed. "Master
Yoda, should we send young Skywalker some support? Do you think he can do this?"
"Impatient, the boy is. Given to emotions, too. But in dangerous situations, the most likely to succeed."
Palpatine noted that. "I'll place my faith in him too, then. You must excuse me, Master Yoda, I have political business to attend to. Senator Amidala is due here for a meeting."
Yoda rose to leave just as Padme Amidala entered the office. They bowed politely to one another in passing, and Padme sat down opposite Palpatine's desk.
"We were going to discuss the new security measures on Naboo. My security advisers tell me more fighting has broken out in the Outer Rim."
Palpatine liked to see how much information he could shake out with a statement rather than a question. "Yes, I've just been talking to General Kenobi about the engagement he and Anakin Skywalker have been involved in."
Padme's brow creased slightly. "Anakin? Is he all right?"
"I'm afraid a negotiation between the Jedi and the Hutts has gone badly wrong." Padme's reaction-all Anakin, no Kenobi-confirmed his suspicion that this wasn't just professional political concern. "Lord Jabba believes Anakin kidnapped his baby son."
"Anakin would never harm a child," Padme said, indignant. She recovered herself a fraction of a second too late to fool Palpatine. "No Jedi would. Let me intercede on behalf of the Senate. I can talk to Jabba and explain to him that this is some mistake, and conclude the negotiations."
"That's very courageous of you, Senator, but Jabba has refused all further contact with the Republic. It's far too dangerous for you to visit Tatooine. We're dealing with organized crime, not a democratic state."
"Jabba's uncle Ziro has a palace here," she said. "I'll try to get him to act as an intermediary."
The more Padme was dissuaded, the more determined she became. Palpatine found that he almost pressed that button now simply to see if it worked every time. It did, although it served no extra purpose to involve her in this. He was simply gathering intelligence.
"Do you think that's wise? They're gangsters."
"Diplomacy is about dealing with those you'd rather avoid," she said, getting up to leave. "And we must need Hutt assistance very badly in this war for Jedi to be willing to negotiate with Jabba."
Palpatine nodded sagely. "Yes, sometimes we have to put aside our principles for the greater good. I'm glad the Jedi feel able to do this, and don't cite their consciences as a reason for not fighting this war." Padme glanced back at him from the door, and he smiled his best paternal smile. "Do be careful with those Hutts, Senator."
* * *
DUNE SEA, TATOOINE
The Twilight was full of fire-suppressant foam, sand, and smoke, but it had landed, and everyone was alive.
Anakin scrambled clear and checked for enemy activity, but the desert looked as empty and lifeless as ever. His next thought was to open a comm frequency to Kenobi. It was just static.
"Snips, have you got a comm channel to me, or offplanet?"
She checked, frowning at the comlink. "No, just noise."
"They've jammed everything, then. I'd hoped I lost Kenobi's signal because of reentry, but obviously the Seps are getting smarter." He pulled the hood of his tunic over his head to protect himself from the blistering sun and beckoned to Ahsoka. "All clear."
She crawled out of the wreckage with Rotta tucked in the backpack. The Huttlet was now alert and curious, with no sign that he'd ever appeared to be at death's door. "Wow, feel that heat. How far do we have to go?"
Anakin gestured to the horizon at a cluster of turrets and extravagant domes shimmering in the heat haze. The sand slowed even the fittest, and they had no survival kit, which didn't bode well; they also had a slug with them, a species not exactly fitted to dry, dusty environments. "That's Jabba's palace, and we've got a few hours' walk ahead. Not a great idea in this heat."
"Should we wait until it gets dark?"
"I don't think we can afford to delay, Snips." Anakin was used to the desert, but he still didn't underestimate its capacity to kill him as surely as Dooku would. "So I'll take the Hutt. You grab as many water bottles as you can carry."
R2-D2 rumbled out of the wreckage, beeping plaintively. Ahsoka coaxed him out. He didn't like sand.
"Come on, Artoo," she said. "I know. Nasty abrasive stuff. Don't worry, we'll give you a full service when all this is over."
Anakin knew there would be eyes on them. There was nowhere to hide in open desert. But the attention wasn't directed at them-not yet, anyway-but at what was left of the Twilight. A couple of hundred meters into their hike, he looked back over his shoulder to see scavenging Jawas swarming over the wreckage like insects, dismantling sections and forming a chain to carry away everything they could detach or lift.
R2-D2 swiveled his dome to watch, too, and beeped. He didn't fancy meeting Jawas in a dark alley, he said. It was the hydrospanners that disturbed him.
"Don't worry, it's never going to happen to you, buddy," Anakin said. "Come on. Keep up."
All they could do was keep putting one foot in front of the other, and not concentrate on how far they had to go. Ahsoka had made a bonnet of sorts out of a sheet of bulkhead insulation, and draped it over Rotta's head. Anakin could hear it rustling against the edge of the backpack.
"It's a shame you can't see him, Skyguy," she said. "He really does look cute."
"If we see a vendor selling Neuvian sundaes, I'll buy him one . . ."
"So this is home."
"No."
"Tell me about it."
"No."
"Okay ..."
"The more you talk, the more you dehydrate." Anakin wasn't sure if that was true, but he thought it was good advice for both of them. "The desert's a killer. It takes everything from you in the end."
"I understand," she said quietly.
Yeah, he had a horrible feeling that, even without knowing the details, she probably did.
They kept up steady pace all afternoon, stopping for regular water breaks and to check on Rotta. He gurgled happily. For a slug, he seemed to be coping with the dry heat well. Maybe it was the slime acting as a protective barrier. By the time the twin suns were edging close to the horizon, the temperature had fallen from near-unbearable to a balmy stiflingly hot. In a few hours, though, it might plummet close to freezing. The desert was out to get the unprepared every moment of the day.
Anakin felt a chill now, but it wasn't the climate. He stopped.
"Feel it?" he asked.
Ahsoka half closed her eyes. "Yes. We're not alone."
"It's the dark side. It's Dooku. He's coming for Rotta."
"He's not going to get him. Over my dead body."
"Oh, he'll oblige, Snips . . . time to split up."
"Master, I can do this. I don't need protecting. We should stick together."
"No, I need you to get Rotta back to his father." Anakin scrambled up a slope and squatted on the top of the ridge, pointing out features in the desert that were almost invisible in the unending sand. "See that gully between those rocks? It's part of a network of ancient riverbeds. Take Artoo and follow it. Watch out for Dooku's droids, too. If he's borrowed any more hardware from Grievous, they'll be out searching, and there's not much cover out here, even at night-they've probably got infrared sensors."
Ahsoka looked at him blankly for a moment as if digesting the enormity of the mission. "But Dooku..."
"I'll deal with Dooku. He'll come after me."
"You're crazy."
"You're best suited to a stealthy approach, and I'm the more experienced at fighting the likes of Dooku. You can't argue with that logic."
"No," she said. "I can't."
"But you will."
"No, Master, I won't."
It was getting easier. They'd cracked it now, this Master and Padawan business. Maybe it took a war to shake things down, because he didn't
remember falling into line that fast, and he wasn't sure he ever had.
"Give me the backpack," he said. "We need to make a decoy so that I look like I'm still a devoted guardian of Stinky."
NINETEEN
Why not just let them cede from the Republic? Why do we need to have a war about this?
What's a republic if it's not about allowing beings to decide who governs them? I don't get it.
Caller to HoloNet News opinion show
* * *
DOOKU'S SHIP, TATOOINE
"Your plan's fallen apart," Ziro said. "I've got a Senator here begging me to tell Jabba the kidnap is a plot by you to discredit the Jedi."
Dooku had no time for panickers, especially not when he had to hunt down Skywalker. He stood in front of the hologram in his best you're-not-backing-out-on-me-now pose.
"My plan, is it? Let's not forget this was an agreement for mutual advantage."
"Okay, our plan. It's still in tatters."
"Think this through, Lord Ziro. Of course there'll be those who think the Separatists are behind this. And there'll be those who think the Republic is. I'm certain that Jabba thinks both sides are equally capable of it and trusts neither, so all he wants is proof of who's guilty this time. I've got it under control. I've told Jabba that the Jedi murdered his son, and that they're on their way to kill him, too."
Ziro wobbled with exasperation. "Jabba will kill the Jedi on sight!"
Dooku pulled on his gloves. The desert was chilly at night.
"Will you lose any sleep over that?"
"No, but. . ."
"If Jabba kills the Jedi, then the Jedi Order, exercising their great moral authority, will be obliged to bring Jabba to justice. Which means you're left to take control of all the Hutt clans. That's what you want, isn't it?"
Ziro's ghostly blue image considered Dooku in silence for a moment, as if the Hutt lord had suddenly realized something. "Ah. So that's how you intended to do it."
"Does that not meet your needs?"
"It does, Count Dooku."
"It meets mine, too. I get a dead Jedi or two out of it, and my armies get sole access to the Outer Rim. Why does the strategy come as a surprise?"