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Chapter Four

Anakin woke up bright and early the next morning refreshed, his heart light and happy. No nightmares, and he hadn't woken up once during the night. He hadn't slept so well since ... Since I left home, he thought. But it was a sign of his contentment that even the thought of his mother didn't dampen his spirits. He ordered breakfast, then got dressed and made his bed, reflecting how surprised Obi-Wan would be when he saw that. Anakin never made his bed. As he waited for breakfast to arrive he preened in front of the mirror, licking his fingers and smoothing his hair. He ran his hand carefully along his jaw. He couldn't see anything yet, but he could definitely feel whiskers. He had just decided that he really ought to borrow Obi- Wan's razor when his master entered the suite.

Surprised, Obi-Wan said, "You're up awfully early."

"So are you," Anakin shot back pleasantly, without the rancor he might usually have felt to know Obi-Wan had stayed out all night.

Obi-Wan headed to his room to change and get ready for the day, and Anakin followed him. "I ordered breakfast," he offered, wandering into the bathroom and rum-maging through Obi-Wan's toiletries kit.

"Good, I'm starved."

"It's hotel food, so I ordered the deluxe. It should be here any minute." At last he found the razor, and holding it up, casually asked, "Can I borrow this?"

Obi-Wan barely managed to keep himself from blurting out, Whatever for? Clearing his throat, he agreed, "Sure." He couldn't resist adding, "It wouldn't do to have you show up at the Conference looking grungy."

"Well, that's what I thought," Anakin sniffed.

Obi-Wan entered the bathroom and fished the shaving cream out of his bag. Plop-ping it down on the counter in front of Anakin he said, "Go to it. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to take a shower."

"What about aftershave?"

"I thought you said my aftershave smells like jawa musk."

"It's not that bad," Anakin apologized, though in truth he didn't think Obi-Wan had very good taste. "Unless you have some of the Prince's cologne lying around?"

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "No, I do not."

"Then yours will do."

"Help yourself," Obi-Wan muttered as he turned on the water for the shower.

"Thanks! By the way, you have a hickey on your neck." Embarassed, Obi- Wan threw a startled glance at the mirror, while Anakin gathered up the shaving equipment and all but skipped to his own bathroom, laughing. He thought he looked very manly as he lathered up, and he practiced making rugged, tough guy faces into the mirror as he shaved.

He emerged about ten minutes later, without any cuts, and wearing way too much eau de Jawa. Breakfast had arrived, and Obi-Wan had already started eating. As Anakin pulled up a chair, Obi-Wan reached over and grasped his chin, turning his face so he could inspect Anakin's handiwork. "Smooth as Master Mace's head," Obi-Wan quipped. "Are you going to give me my things back?"

"What for?" Anakin asked around a mouthful of toast. "It's not like you need to shave. I don't how you think you're going to grow a beard."

Obi-Wan's mouth twisted in a grin, but he chose not to respond. Instead he asked, "Do we really need all this food?"

"Well, I do," Anakin averred, helping himself to the sausage. As he piled his plate high, he asked, "So are we supposed to be like security at this Conference?"

"Not exactly. We're here to observe."

"Yeah, but what does that mean? We're supposed to observe people talking?"

Obi-Wan sighed. His padawan was being willfully obtuse. "We've been over this before. You know that the development of this cloning technology will have far-reaching consequences for the galaxy. We are here to ensure that all voices are heard in the discussion, to offer our viewpoint if asked, and to see that the treaty is just and fair."

"In other words, we're going to observe people talking," Anakin grinned. "Lucky for us there are some people here we don't mind observing." A thought occurred to him. "I wonder if Jar Jar's going to make a speech?"

Stars, I hope not, Obi-Wan thought with dismay.

As it turned out, Obi-Wan's prayer was answered. The Gungan did not make a speech. Instead, Padme spoke on behalf of both the Gungans and the Naboo. Despite Obi-Wan's lofty view of the role he and Anakin were to play at the conference, Anakin's succinct description proved to be the most accurate. Over one hundred beings had assembled from a variety of organizations and interests to discuss the issue of cloning. They had brought with them cadres of aides and assistants who rushed officiously in and out of the meeting hall bearing messages and whispering to each other. Eventually many of these aides would start writing drafts for the treaty that the Conference was meant to produce, but the first day at least was spent, well, observing people talking.

The Prince opened the conference with a speech outlining the history of cloning and stating briefly what they all hoped to accomplish through the Conference. Anakin had never had the chance to see Bail at work, and he had to admit the Prince was good. He even succeeded in holding Anakin's attention. Most of the time. The two Jedi were seated on a raised platform toward the back of the room where they could keep an eye on everyone present. Anakin studiously noted how the Prince used his voice and gestures to hold people's attention and to gather them back to him when their thoughts wandered. Bail spoke with conviction and authority, and even those among the audience who clearly didn't like the Prince nevertheless respected him. This impressed Anakin, and it occurred to him that he could learn a few tips on commanding an audience from Bail.

When the Prince finished, other dignitaries began making speeches to far less effect. Anakin tried to keep note of what they did wrong so he could make comparisons with Bail's technique, but he quickly grew bored. Instead he contented himself with studying Padme -- Queen Amidala, he corrected himself. She was resplendent in an elaborate gown of red-orange that drew attention to herself. Not that she needed a fiery color to keep Anakin's eyes on her. Her complicated headdress was decorated with gems and precious metals, and she wore stylized makeup. Anakin prefer her without makeup, but he had to admit she cut a stunning figure, and he noted with pride the many admiring and respectful looks she attracted. When it was time for her to make her speech, Anakin had to admit she wasn't as good as the Prince. Her style was too formal for Anakin's tastes, but he hardly cared. He would enjoy listening to her read the ingredients on a box of cereal. He had no idea what she actually said, but the sound of her voice transported him to heaven.

The tedious schedule of speeches was broken only by lunch, a formal affair which found the two Jedi seated, to Anakin's dismay, with a flock of scientists and academics. Anakin couldn't even see Padme from where they sat, and since he was so much younger than anyone else, none of the scientists even spoke to him, each trying instead to draw Obi-Wan into backing their respective viewpoints against the others. Anakin couldn't follow all the arguments, especially since Obi-Wan managed to talk without actually saying anything. Instead Anakin contented himself with enjoying their fancy meal. He decided to give himself his own Jedi test by seeing how many desserts he could appropriate before Obi-Wan caught him. Test result: four. Not bad. Anakin gave himself extra credit since one of the desserts had been Obi-Wan's.

Anakin's next test was staying awake through the afternoon speeches after having eaten so much at lunch. He passed this test by identifying the habits of each of the speechgivers and keeping track of them. For example, an Ithorian scientist mispronounced 27 words in his speech. The Bothan delegate used the phrase "of vital importance" seven times, and the phrase "of utmost importance" nine times. And the Senator from Cona picked her nose 17 times. In addition, Anakin counted 32 delegates nodding off to sleep.

At long last the speeches ended and the meeting was adjourned for the day. They had an hour-long break before the formal reception that evening. Anakin begged Obi-Wan to let them lay aside their Jedi tunics in favor of more secular and flattering attire, but Obi-Wan refused. Since they were present in their official capacity as Jedi, they would attend all functions dressed like Jedi.

Anakin was not looking forward to the reception at all. He hated small talk, and he was too young and unimportant for anyone to want to court his interest. He would have preferred to follow Bail around rather than Obi-Wan, because Bail would be able to tell him who everyone was and what interests they represented, but the Prince was far too busy acting the consummate politician to instruct Anakin. He wouldn't dream of attaching himself to Padme. The Queen intimidated him too much. He didn't know how to relate to her in such a formal way. He would have liked to spend the evening in a corner with Jar Jar, but Obi-Wan wouldn't permit it, insisting his padawan needed to learn social skills. So Anakin set up a new battery of tests for himself: memorizing the identities of everyone Obi-Wan talked with, sampling every single one of the finger foods being offered -- without Obi-Wan noticing -- and drinking as many glasses of wine as he could -- again without Obi-Wan catching him.

They circulated throughout the room, Anakin trailing at Obi-Wan's elbow, meeting politicians, scientists, businesspeople and activists, when suddenly Anakin found himself facing someone he recognized: Supreme Chancellor Palpatine himself. Anakin hadn't even realized the Chancellor was in attendance.

The Supreme Chancellor nodded briefly to Obi-Wan in curt recognition, but it was to Anakin he addressed himself. With a warm smile, Palpatine said, "It is a distinct pleasure to see you again, Anakin Skywalker."

Amazed that the Chancellor remembered his name, Anakin stammered, "It's an honor to see you, Your - uh, Honor."

Palpatine's smile widened. "You have grown into quite a young man since we last met. And a most formidable pilot."

Dumbfounded, Anakin could only stare at Palpatine, and the Chancellor continued, "I told you before that I would follow your progress. I can never forget the service you rendered Naboo, and I have been eager to know how well you have fared since coming to Coruscant." He hesitated. "And your training with the Jedi is going well?"

"Yes, Your Honor. That is, I hope so."

Palpatine noticed the qualification. "I'm glad to hear it," he said mildly, and if Anakin had not been so awed to be personally addressed by the Supreme Chancellor, he might have noticed that Palpatine's smile, though steady, no longer reached his eyes. "The Jedi are a noble institution. They have done much good...in the past." He moved a step closer to Anakin and lowered his voice. "Let me speak frankly, young Skywalker. We live in desperate times for the Republic. The government is choked with corrupt bureaucrats who will not give up their abused privileges easily. The galaxy needs talented people of strong character. People like you."

Anakin's cheeks colored under the praise but he said nothing.

"I hope you do not think this is mere flattery," Palpatine continued. "I am committed to ending corruption, but I need good people to help me. There are other ways that you may serve the galaxy, aside from the Jedi. Noble as they are, I fear that sometimes they prefer philosophy to action. And action is what is needed today, Skywalker. Firm, decisive action."

Anakin nodded his agreement, not trusting himself to speak. How many times had he not felt the same way?

"You are almost old enough to enroll at the Space Academy," observed Palpatine. "There is no reason why your Jedi studies should conflict with a more secular education. I invite you to consider it. A man of your talents and zeal would be a valuable addition to the Republican Star Fleet."

Enthusiasm finally overcame his awkwardness. "A star pilot!" Anakin breathed. "Thank you, Your Honor!"

With a benevolent smile, Palpatine observed, "I know that the path has not been easy for you, young Skywalker, and I also know how deeply you care for justice, particularly on the issue of slavery on non-Republic worlds." Anakin chilled, and Palpatine went on. "I share your concern. The bureaucrats would say that legally the Republic may not interfere in matters that lie beyond our jurisdiction. But I say injustice is injustice, no matter what the jurisdiction. Beings of true conscience would not let such soulless issues of law interfere with what is right."

Anakin bowed his head, struggling to keep his emotions under control. Palpatine was echoing his own thoughts, giving voice to ideas Anakin had scarcely dared contemplate in his own mind. And the Chancellor was confiding these thoughts in him! At last, someone understood the need for justice as Anakin did!

"But perhaps my proposal does not interest you. I'm sure you are eager to con-tinue your Jedi studies."

"No, Your Honor!" Anakin protested, eyes flashing. "I mean, yes I want to be a Jedi, but I want to do more than that. To be a member of the Star Fleet...."

"I'm glad to hear it. Perhaps we will have more time during this conference to talk about it, and when you are ready to apply to the Space Academy, let me know. I would be happy to give you a personal recommendation."

An aide caught the Supreme Chancellor's attention, and with a nod to Anakin, he moved away.

Anakin did not move, reviewing all that the Chancellor had said and committing it to memory. Obi-Wan, who had moved away so that the Chancellor and Anakin could talk, now returned. "Well," he said, "that was quite an honor, to be singled out by the Supreme Chancellor." Unable to restrain his curiosity, he asked, "What did he say?"

Normally Anakin would have been eager to share all the details with his master, especially since the Chancellor had been so complimentary to him. But for some reason he found he had no desire to divulge the conversation to his master. Not that there had been anything wrong with it, but he wanted to keep it to himself, especially since Palpatine had seemed to be speaking to him in confidence. "We were talking about politics," he offered.

Obi-Wan frowned. Anakin paid even less attention to politics than Obi- Wan did himself, but he decided not to press the point.

The Prince approached them. "Are you two having fun?"

"Loads," Anakin quipped.

"You must be. I saw the Chancellor speaking with you, Anakin. I must say I'm impressed."

Anakin flushed with pride. Maybe he could hob-knob with the famous and powerful just like the Prince. This conference might prove educational after all.

The Prince continued, "The two of you may be enjoying yourselves too much to leave, but I'm exhausted. Too much partying last night, I suppose. I'm not as young as I'd like to think I am." He grinned. "The Queen and Jar Jar are coming up to my room for a drink before turning in for the night. Would you like to join us?"

With a glance at Anakin, Obi-Wan answered, "Of course." But before they could join the others, a protocol droid approached Obi-Wan.

"Jedi Kenobi?" the droid asked. Obi-Wan nodded in acknowledgement. "You have an urgent message from the Jedi Temple. You may pick it up at the front desk."

"Thank you," he said, concerned.

"I hope it's nothing serious," Bail offered.

"We'll see," Obi-Wan replied. "It may be nothing, just some directions about the conference. You go on ahead. We'll join you later if we can." Obi-Wan turned and headed for the front desk, Anakin close on his heels.

"Maybe something came up and they're sending us out on a mission," Anakin suggested, excited at the thought of doing something more interesting than observing talking, but disappointed that he might not get to see more of Padme.

"I doubt that," Obi-Wan contradicted. "There are plenty of others available to go on an urgent mission. It probably has to do with the conference."

"Maybe it's a threat to security," Anakin offered.

"Or maybe we should retrieve the message before we jump to any conclusions," Obi-Wan rebuked.

They arrived at the desk, and Obi-Wan asked for the message, but the clerk didn't know what he was talking about. The clerk went to find someone else who might know, while Obi-Wan waited with mild impatience and Anakin helped himself to a handful of complimentary mints.

Abruptly the room vanished before Anakin, and he reeled, almost blacking out. He saw double doors opening before him, something shoved into his face, surprise, fear, and then nothing.

Slowly the room coalesced around him, and he found himself leaning against Obi-Wan, cradled in his master 's arm. "What is it?" Obi-Wan asked him.

Without knowing how, he knew. "Padme," Anakin whispered.

That was all Obi-Wan needed to hear. He had learned early on to trust his Padawan's strange, but vital connection to the Force. "The message was a decoy to distract us. Are you all right to go?" he asked.

Anakin straightened, concern giving him strength. "Yes."

Without another word, he and Obi-Wan headed straight for the turbolifts. As Anakin punched in Padme's floor, Obi-Wan pulled out his comlink. "Security, this is Jedi Kenobi. We have reason to believe Queen Amidala is in danger. Lock down the building and alert Prince Bail."

The doors opened on Padme's floor, and Obi-Wan headed down the hall toward her suite, but Anakin hesitated, the vision fresh in his mind. "No," he called out. Obi-Wan turned to face him. "The turbolift. It happened in the turbolift."

"Where? What floor?"

Frustrated and anxious, Anakin shook his head.

Obi-Wan hesitated only an instant. "The roof," he instructed as he reentered the turbolift. They rode up to the top floor, then exited and headed up an access stairway that would take them to the roof. Again Obi-Wan activated his comlink. "We're headed to the roof. We believe she may have been abducted from one of the turbolifts. Do not allow anyone to leave the building."

"Yes, sir," the security officer answered. "Sir, we've been unable to reach the Prince."

Obi-Wan froze in mid-step, his stomach turning with fear. Years of Jedi discipline enabled him to continue without thought, despite the turmoil of his emotions. "What about the Gungan ambassador?" he asked faintly.

There was a pause. "I'll check, sir."

Anakin met Obi-Wan's worried gaze. "They got all of them," he said, realization dawning over him.

Together, they raced up the stairs, taking the steps in threes. They burst through the roof access door just in time to see a small freighter fire up its engines. "No!" Anakin shouted, running toward it.

Obi-Wan glanced around and spotted a row of service vehicles parked nearby. "Anakin!" he called out, racing toward the nearest one. He leaped into the passenger seat, Anakin moments after him sliding behind the controls. The vehicle leaped off the roof, not far behind the freighter.

Obi-Wan didn't have to ask Anakin whether their friends were aboard the ship. He trusted his padawan completely to know. Nor did he have to instruct Anakin on what to do. As good a pilot as Obi-Wan was, he knew Anakin was better. As Anakin sped after the freighter, Obi-Wan again activated his comlink, relating the details of the vehicle they were pursuing through Coruscant's traffic lanes.

Slowly Anakin gained on the vehicle but as they drew closer, to their surprise the freighter opened fire on them. A service vehicle like the freighter should not be equipped with a weapons system.

"Fall back!" Obi-Wan cried, as laser bursts pulsed around them. "We have no shields!"

"I can dodge them!" Anakin assured him.

With some misgiving, Obi-Wan let his padawan continue his pursuit. Anakin may have been a good pilot, but it would only take one shot to blast them out of the sky.

Amazingly, Anakin not only successfully dodged the laserfire, he began to gain on them. Encouraged, Obi-Wan instructed, "Try to draw next to them so I can get onto that vehicle." Anakin gave him a curt nod, his face set with determination. Meter by agonizing meter, he gained on the freighter. As they drew closer, Obi-Wan stood in the open cockpit, gathering himself for the jump, ignoring the high speed and the fact that they were 70 stories above ground level. Obi-Wan coiled himself for the leap.

Without warning, the freighter veered straight into their path, guns blazing. In order to avoid a collision, Anakin swerved sharply to the right, knocking Obi-Wan off balance and throwing him out of the speeder. "Obi-Wan!" Anakin screamed, punching the reverse thrusters. As the freighter sped into the night, Anakin glanced fearfully over the passenger side of the speeder. "Master?" he called out, fearing the worst.

To his utter relief, a hand reached up and grabbed the edge of the speeder. A pale and shaken Obi-Wan pulled himself back up into the vehicle. "That was close."

Relieved, Anakin returned to the controls. "I'll catch up with them again."

"No, Anakin," Obi-Wan instructed. "They've gotten too far ahead."

Anger pulsed through the boy. If Obi-Wan had better balance, they wouldn't have fallen behind. "I can do it."

"You may be a good pilot, but this is no racing pod. We will never catch them this way. Best to go back and try to trace the registry of the vehicle."

"But they'll get away!" he protested.

Obi-Wan placed a sympathetic hand on the boy's shoulder as he settled into the passenger seat. "They already have."

Chapter Five

Something was shaking her, cruelly dragging her from the haven of sleep. Consciousness slowly stole over her, accompanied by nausea and a bitter taste in her mouth. The shaking only made her feel worse, and she struck out, contacting with something smooth and cartigenous hovering over her head. She opened her eyes to see Jar Jar clutching his muzzle and staring down at her, his eyestalks extended to their fullest length.

"I'm sorry, Jar Jar," Padme apologized as she struggled to sit up.

"My was thinken yousa dead," he explained in a squeak.

"No, I'm not dead," she corrected, only to groan in misery as a fresh wave of nausea surged over her. She might not be dead, but she almost wished she were. She glanced frantically around the room, which was empty of any furniture and sadly lacking any receptacle for her to be sick in. Her stomach refused to be deterred, and groaning, she crawled into a corner and threw up until her body rid itself of the last vestiges of the poison used to sedate them.

Feeling only slightly better, she leaned back against the wall, dragging her sleeve across her mouth.

Worried, Jar Jar watched her. "Yousa oke-day?"

"I'll be fine," she replied, but her answer came out as a moan. She looked across the room at Prince Bail, slumped on the floor. It wasn't going to be pretty when he woke up, either. Jar Jar, at least, seemed to have been relatively unaffected by the poison. "Are you all right? How long have you been awake?"

"My no know," Jar Jar shrugged. "Mesa wake not so longo time. But you and da Big Boss no waken." His eyestalks swiveled back to the Prince. "Maybe hesa dead, too, eh?"

"No, he'll be all right. Whatever they gassed us with just makes us feel sick." She was beginning to feel a little better. Hopefully the poison would not prove to have lasting effects.

Her alertness returning, she focused her attention on the room. Even without furniture, the room was not completely empty. The floor was littered with crumbled plaster fallen from the walls and ceiling, torn rags, crumpled plastic bottles and other detritus. The walls were gray and stained, riddled with cracks. The yellowish light was provided by a gas lamp hanging from a hook in the ceiling. Padme had seldom ever seen one before. They were clearly not on a spaceship being carried off to who knows where. They were almost certainly still on Coruscant, but Padme had no idea the planet contained any place as rundown as this.

Bail began to stir, dragging himself awake. Padme waited while he, too, emptied his stomach into the corner as she had. When he stopped convulsing, she asked, "How are you feeling?"

He groaned. "I have had hangovers that were worse, but that was a long time ago. It doesn't exactly make me nostalgic for the good old days."

"You'll feel better in a minute," she counseled. As Bail waved a disbelieving hand in her direction, she glanced at Jar Jar. "You know the routine. Start checking in that corner, while I start here."

Jar Jar moved to do her bidding while Bail surveyed her with clouded eyes. "What are you doing?"

She put a finger to her lips, then began inspecting her side of the room. Within minutes she and Jar Jar discovered that the room was free of surveillance devices. It indeed seemed to be nothing more than a rundown building, although the door sported a good sized, mechanical lock. She turned back to the Prince. "No bugs," she announced.

He cocked an eyebrow. "What do you call that?" he asked, pointing at a brown insect half as big as his hand crawling up the wall.

"That's not what I meant."

Bail smiled. "I know. You're quite the professsional, aren't you?"

"I've learned to be prepared."

"Where are we?" Jar Jar asked.

Padme shrugged. "I don't know. I imagine we're somewhere on Coruscant."

"The lower levels, most likely," Bail pronounced, surveying the rundown walls. "Not good."

"Why?" Padme asked, seating herself next to him. "What are the lower levels like?"

"They were abandoned long ago as the city was built up. No one legitimate lives down here, and there are no services. No power, food, water, or transportation. Communication devices don't penetrate this far down. There's nothing here but pollution, criminals, and mutants."

Padme exchanged concerned looks with Jar Jar, but before she could comment, the lock clicked and the door swung open. A human entered and surveyed them. "Good," she pronounced. "You're all awake. Now let's see if you can walk." She raised a blaster in their direction, flicking the muzzle at them. The threesome got to their feet and exited the room, where they were flanked by several more armed guards of various species and led down a dimly lit hall into a larger room.

Padme quickly surveyed their captors. They were a motley bunch, bearing no insignia or uniforms. They looked for the most part relatively ordinary and harmless, though they sported expressions of intensity, even fanaticism. Only two of them, seated in a dark corner, showed any signs of real menace. The pair wore customized armor, combat boots, and weapons belts, and were more heavily armed than their comrades. The face of one was completely hidden underneath a helmet with a narrow, T-shaped eye slit, but her companion wore only a look of cool fierceness.

A blue-skinned Twi'lek who had been seated at a table in the center of the room stood up and approached them. "And how are our honored guests feeling?" she asked, not unpleasantly.

Before Bail could answer, Padme demanded, "Who are you, and what do you want with us?"

The Twi'lek laughed. "Straight to the point! Let me assure you, Your Highness, if you cooperate with us, no harm will come to you."

"You'll forgive me if I'm skeptical," Padme returned.

"Naturally," the Twi'lek smiled. She began to pace back and forth in front of them, strutting regally, as if she were performing before an audience. "We have no secrets here, either about our identity or our purpose in abducting you. I am Reena, and my comrades here comprise the Hammer, a faction of the True Life Movement. We feel that the time has come for more decisive action in order to protect the natural born."

"I have never heard of the Hammer," Prince Bail said.

"Of course not. This is our grand debut."

"What I meant was, I am unfamiliar with your principles," Bail amended, "your position on cloning. If you tell me about your viewpoint, we can perhaps open negotiations."

His offer was greeted with outright laughter around the room. Reena shook her head condescendingly. "We have no interest in negotiating with you, Bail Organa, Prince of Verbosity. All you do is talk, talk, talk. But on the subject of cloning there can be no debate." Her eyes narrowed in determination. "No compromise.

"We kidnapped you to make a point. You will deliver our demands for us, and for your sake, I hope the Senate will listen."

"You are surely aware that the Senate has a policy of not negotiating with terrorists," Bail mildly observed.

"Of course. They always say that, and then they always do. Do you really expect us to believe that they won't negotiate for the safe return of the popular and much-loved Senator of Alderaan? Especially when we show we mean business." She flicked a glance at several of her comrades who closed in on Bail, holding his arms behind his back, as Padme and Jar Jar were surrounded and shoved to the side. Dread filled Padme, but she knew there was nothing she could do. She glanced again at the twosome in the corner. The man looked on with interest, while the helmeted one sat forward in a pose of anticipation.

"Make it look good," Reena was saying, drawing Padme's attention back to Bail. A rather burly-looking Aqualish stepped forward, wearing armored gloves on his thick hands. He delivered a series of sharp blows to Bail's face, bloodying his nose, splitting his lip, and opening a gash above one eye. Padme winced at each blow, struggling not to cry out in protest. Beside her, Jar Jar trembled with fear.

The beating did not last long. "That's enough!" Reena ordered, and the Aqualish fell back. Bail was released, and he fell to his hands and knees, his limbs trembling as blood dripped from his face onto the floor. Aside from the two in the corner, Padme noticed that none of their captors seemed to have enjoyed the abuse. She even thought she could see the Twi'lek's lekku shiver with regret. "Get the camera ready," she instructed, her voice quiet, lacking in her earlier bravado. Several of the others set up the camera as Bail was plucked up off the floor, still gasping, and placed in a chair. Despite his injuries, he was amazingly calm and dignified.

Reena shoved a durasheet into his hand. "You will read this statement," she instructed, "insisting that this conference end at once and demanding that all cloning be outlawed immediately."

Glancing at the sheet, Bail said, "They'll never agree to such demands. Surely you must see that."

"Pray that they do, Your Highness," Reena counseled, "because for every day they don't, we'll be sending them body parts."

Jar Jar whimpered, and Padme reached out to take his hand and squeeze it, seeking to comfort herself as much as him.

The camera was set to record, and Bail complied, reading the Hammer's demands off the sheet. When he finished, they were led without word back to their prison.

For several minutes none of them spoke as they absorbed the reality of their predicament. Bail gingerly wiped the blood from his face, one eye now swollen shut. "Body parts," he mumbled with a levity that amazed Padme. "They might as well start with my teeth. I think they loosened several of them."

"No, no," Jar Jar whimpered. "Dey mutten be doen that."

"I thought you were generally perceived to be sympathetic to the True Life Movement," Padme observed.

"I am," Bail agreed.

"Then why target you?"

Bail shook his head. "I don't know. It doesn't make any sense. They clearly don't know what they're doing, an unknown group making extravagant demands. The Senate will not give in to them."

Padme absorbed this in silence. "They really won't?" she finally asked, leaving unspoken the dire consequences Reena had promised.

Bail met her gaze without flinching. "No."

Again there was a prolonged silence, broken finally when Bail chirped, "They say prosthetic limbs are better than the originals. Then again, with the cloning technology being proposed at this conference, I could be the first person to benefit from it. You needn't worry. Obi-Wan will find us before they disassemble too much of me."

Ignoring his last comment, Padme observed, "There's something else. Did you notice the two in the corner with all the weapons?"

"I was a little distracted," Bail admitted.

"They didn't look at all like the others," Padme observed.

Jar Jar nodded. "Dey looked like deysa ready for a war."

Padme added, "I think there is more than one faction here. And I doubt those two are interested in demands, much less negotiations."

Bail frowned. "What do you think that means?"

"I think it means we can't afford to stay around here waiting for the Jedi to find us."

Alarmed, Bail exclaimed, "You can't possibly be thinking of breaking out of here. Even if we succeeded, we are at ground level. You don't understand the dangers."

"Maybe not, but I'll wager those two are bounty hunters. I'd rather take my chances out there than wait for those bounty hunters to act."

"Bounty hunters? Now, don't jump to conclusions!"

"What else could they be?" Padme demanded. "Bounty hunters or mercenaries, regardless of the specifics, I think they are infiltrators with their own agenda. Didn't you say that there are a lot more interests at stake in the cloning issue than medical concerns? Genetic engineering, breeding slaves, factions who want cloning technology with no benevolent intentions in mind."

"Now you're really stretching it," Bail protested, but he didn't sound like he believed himself.

"Regardless of what Reena said, we will not be able to leave here alive," Padme warned. "The question is, do you want to take your chance and get out with all your limbs, or do you really want them to start hacking you to pieces first?"

Her certainty shocked him into silence, and he gulped hard.

Padme turned to Jar Jar. "Do you still have your vibroblade?"

To Bail's surprise, the Gungan nodded, unhooking his belt buckle and folding it out to make a knife. Meanwhile Padme removed several pieces of what Bail had thought were jewelry and fitted them together to form a tiny blaster. He slowly shook his head as she extracted several pins from her hair to reveal a durasteel stiletto the size of a large sewing needle and a lock-picking device. "Do you always dress for the occasion, Your Majesty?" he inquired in amazement.

Padme crouched by the door inspecting the lock. "After the Trade Federation invaded my planet, I learned to be prepared for anything."

"So you said earlier. I didn't realize how seriously you meant it." He watched her progress on the door with growing agitation. "Are you certain this is a good idea? We don't know if the door is guarded."

"No guards," Jar Jar assured him. "Mesa hear if dey were."

"Gungans have excellent hearing," Padme remarked as she jiggled the pick through a tiny opening in the door handle.

"The door could be rigged with an alarm," Bail continued faintly.

"No. No power, no wires. Nutten. Mesa check," Jar Jar said with simple assurance. His large ears perked up at the tiniest click, signaling that Padme had disengaged the lock.

She turned back to Bail and raised an eyebrow in inquiry. "It's your choice," she offered. "They may not have threatened Jar Jar and me yet, but I don't think they took us by accident. You can come with us and risk death in one piece, or stay here and wait to be dismantled."

"Well, when you put it that way," Bail gave her a weak smile, "I am rather attached to my parts."

Without another word, Padme nodded and opened the door, stepping out into the hall, Jar Jar close behind her. Bail followed, struggling to still his trembling. His heart pounded so loudly in his ears that a blaster fight could ensue in the hall and Bail doubted he would even hear it. He hoped the Gungan's hearing was as good as Padme said it was.

She closed the door behind them and slid the tiny stiletto into the lock, breaking it in an effort to further delay their captors. Then she nodded to Jar Jar, who took the lead, gliding silently down the hall. He paused at each door, each juncture of the corridor, listening intently for any sign of their captors' presence.

As they neared one hallway they could hear voices coming up the corridor. Jar Jar quickly led them back a couple of doors to a closet they had passed before. The three of them barely fit inside, squeezing up against each other in order to shut the door all the way. Bail's head began to pound in earnest, adrenaline making his headache worse. He had been abducted once before, and like Padme and Jar Jar, he had been mentally trained to cope with hostage situations, to remain calm, to seek to establish rapport with his captors, to negotiate with them for his release. But unlike Padme and Jar Jar, he had not been trained to undertake his own rescue. He had always relied on others to keep him safe, and he had no reason to doubt that Obi-Wan would find him. That is, Obi-Wan would have found them if they had remained with their captors. But how was the Jedi to find them when they were running around in Coruscant's treacherous ground level? Any trail they might try to leave would lead the bounty hunters, if that was indeed what they were, right to them as well. This escape attempt had to be, without a doubt, the stupidest thing Bail had ever consented to.

But he had no chance to protest, even if he wanted to. After a good length of time, Jar Jar opened the door onto a once again empty corridor and led them on. The next door he led them through opened out into a large hallway. They had evidently left the suite of rooms the Hammer occupied and now entered the main building itself. While there was no artificial light in the hall, the walls were covered with a bioluminescent algae that provided just enough light for them to see by.

Without a word, Jar Jar loped off down the hallway, Padme close behind him, and Bail bringing up the rear. It evidently never occurred to either of his comrades to try to seek a way up. Almost certainly this very building, 30 or so stories up, would be inhabited, but it was equally certain that they could probably never get there. The lowest levels of floors were sealed off in order to keep dangerous beings from ground level, whether sentient or not, from making it up into the populated areas.

They ran silently down the hall until Bail's head began to pound so severely it almost blinded him. "Stop!" he cried through clenched teeth. Leaning against a wall, he clutched desperately at his head. Padme and Jar Jar backtracked to stand next to him.

"Your nose is bleeding again," Padme observed in a mild tone, but her eyes betrayed her concern. Bail pressed his sleeve to his nose, and when he lowered his arm, the cuff was stained with blood.

"I want to put as much distance between them and us as possible before we stop," Padme continued.

Bail grunted. "I told you I'd think of a nickname for you. How's this: `Madam General.' You are certainly qualified."

Padme didn't find it amusing. Ignoring his comment, she asked, "Do you have any advice in terms of which direction we should be heading?"

"I have no idea," he answered, each word clipped with pain. "We could try going up, but we would have to go a very long way before even hoping to run across the populated levels. At the ground level, some areas are populated and others are not. Depending on where we are, we could head for one of the city's plazas. They will also be guarded, but someone might see us and let us through."

"We could steal a speeder," Padme suggested.

"You hotwire vehicles, too? Your talents never end. Still, I wouldn't count on being able to steal a speeder. I doubt we'll even find anything that works. You have no idea how dangerous the ground level is."

Padme set her jaw. "So you've already told us. But I'm not one to give up."

"Wonderful," Bail wheezed. "I'm inspired by your confidence. They do say ignorance breeds peace of mind."

"Look, you chose to come with us," she retorted.

"So I did, and I'm not saying I want to go back. But if you're the General of this party and Jar Jar is the surveillance expert, I get to be the worrier." He searched his sleeve for a clean spot to press to his still-bleeding nose.

"All right," Padme relented. She eyed him. "Are you able to continue?"

He nodded. "But I can't run anymore, my head hurts too much. I don't suppose you have painkillers stashed away in your hairdo or something?"

She gave him a tight-lipped smile and patted him on the shoulder, then nodded to Jar Jar and headed on down the hall.

Bail squeezed his eyes shut and uttered a quick prayer before following them. /Ben, please find us/. He knew that Jedi Knights could sometimes sense people telepathically, even non-Jedi, but he had no idea if Obi-Wan could sense him over so great a distance. And what about Anakin? As precocious as the boy was, was his bond with Padme strong enough to lead him to her?

He fervently hoped so, because without the Jedi, Bail doubted they would make it far, with or without bounty hunters on their trail.

Eventually they found a way out of the building. It was still daylight outside, and although no direct sunlight penetrated this far down to the planet's surface, there was enough light to temporarily blind them after having been in the dark building for so long. Their eyes adjusted quickly, though, and it was evident that the Hammer had chosen to secret them in one of the unpopulated regions. As the self- appointed worrier, Bail wasn't sure whether this was good news or bad news. While they were unlikely to run into any unfriendlies, it also meant they were less likely to find any help getting out, and it would make their trail easier for the bounty hunters to follow.

The buildings were far too tall for Bail to recognize any landmark, so they had to strike out blindly. They debated whether it was better to stay in the streets and trust Jar Jar's ears to alert them to when they were being followed, or to enter another building for its comparative shelter, but Bail's head still hurt too much for him to really care. Padme was convinced that their captors would not discover them to be missing for a while, so they stuck to the streets for now.

Before long, however, it became apparent they would need to find food, and more importantly, water. The lower level teemed with life, albeit not of an appetizing kind, and since Jar Jar was accustomed to hunting for food on Naboo, they would probably not go hungry. Water, however, was another matter. Certainly liquid accumulated at ground level. Waste water and days old rain, not to mention precipitations of a more questionable nature, ran down the buildings and through the streets in odiferous streams, but it was hardly potable. Another sarcastic inquiry from Bail revealed that neither Padme nor Jar Jar carried decontamination tablets concealed on their person. Finding enough fuel among the detritus on the streets in order to boil water was only slightly less likely than finding a suitable container to boil water in.

As night fell, the dilemma remained unsolved. They sought shelter in another building, and Jar Jar, his eyes better equipped for seeing in the dark, set out to hunt some food. Bail stretched out on the hard ground, grateful to be lying down. His head hurt so badly he had to fight just to keep from retching. Padme settled on the ground not far from him, her knees drawn up under her chin. "How are you doing?" she asked softly.

"I'll live," Bail croaked. "The rest will do me good." He paused, then ventured, "I'm sorry for my attitude earlier. There's no excuse for it."

"It's all right."

"No. The last thing we all need is for us to be fighting amongst ourselves. And it's not that I don't trust you. You certainly are far more prepared for this kind of adventure than I am. I suppose it's a matter of personality. I would rather deal with known dangers than unknown ones."

"Be that as it may, you know best out of the three of us what we can expect down here. What do you think is the best way for us to proceed?"

Bail rolled over onto his side, pressing his burning temple against the cool stone floor. At last he said, "I don't know. If the Force is with us, we'll pass by a landmark I'll recognize. That will give us a direction to aim for. Maybe we will find a speeder. Maybe we'll come across a populated area where someone will figure the reward for our recovery to be more lucrative than the bounty."

"How much of the ground level is populated?"

"No one knows."

Padme sighed heavily. "As our designated worrier, you're doing an excellent job."

Jar Jar soon returned with an ample supply of small rodents, amphibians and flying mammals, all equally unappetizing. They were unable to find enough fuel for the fire, and what they found appeared to be toxic enough to poison the meat with its fumes, so they were forced to eat their food raw. Jar Jar was accustomed enough to it and fell to his meal with satisfied delight. Padme tried to follow his example, reminding herself that raw meat was considered a delicacy on many planets. She suspected that some of the varieties of fungus that grew everywhere in the damp, dark canyons were edible, but no one was sufficiently hungry yet to risk it.

They agreed that Bail should not take a watch, in the hope that a full night's sleep would render him fit enough in the morning. Padme took first watch, and soon after the others had fallen asleep, she went back into the streets to study them and formulate a plan.

She leaned her head all the way back and looked straight up into the murk above her. The buildings all around her were completely dark, and the lights above were so far away she could not see them. A layer of pollution coated the air about 10 or 20 stories above the ground, visible by day as a brown smog, and at night faintly glowing with the ample light she knew lay above. Less than a kilometer overhead lay civilization and safety. If she could walk up the side of the building, she could reach it in a short stroll. But the vertical distance might as well be lightyears, and on foot, who knew how far they would have to walk to get to freedom?

Coruscant. What an ugly planet. Up above she had been dazzled by the lights and colors, the myriad of beings, the variety of activities going on. The planet seemed glamorous and exciting, a cityscape of infinite possibilities. Yet the vibrant city above lay like a thin skin over a decaying skeleton, visible at ground level. Here the price the planet had paid to support the city became evident in endless valleys of decay and death.

The Naboo prized the natural environment. Their cities and architecture were designed to complement nature, not suppress it. Even the smallest room in the poorest house on Naboo could not be found without several plants or miniature water gardens in small pots, complete with fish and frogs. Naboo might seem backward to residents of the core worlds, and yet having seen Coruscant's underbelly, Padme appreciated her homeworld's aesthetics all the more. How could she even contemplate becoming a Senator and living so much of her future on this vile, unlovely world?

And yet her decision could not be made on the basis of personal preference and taste. In the few days she had been on Coruscant, the need here had become evident. The decay at ground level was infecting the upper levels as well, and it would spread to other worlds, even in the Outer Rim. Naboo could not remain isolated forever. If she chose to stay on her homeworld, there was no guarantee that the cancer spreading from Coruscant would not over-take her own people. Sooner or later, on one planet or another, she would have to take a stand.

Abruptly, Padme became aware of a faint, high-pitched whine. It took a moment for her to recognize it as an engine. She almost shouted out loud for joy at having found someone before she realized that someone was more likely to be an enemy than a friend. She ducked back into the building and crouched behind the door, waiting for the visitor to appear.

Several minutes passed before a searchlight shone on the street outside the door. She pulled back farther into the darkness and watched anxiously as the light beam swept back and forth across the street and up onto the sides of the buildings. Eventually, a speeder appeared, moving very slowly, about 30 kph. Too fast for a careful search, but not so fast that they wouldn't notice any obvious sign Padme and the others might have inadvertently left. She hid herself completely behind the door, trying to shield herself if they had scanners. Of course, if they had powerful scanners, they would be able to penetrate the buildings. Organic matter could effectively jam scanners, as could high electronic emissions. The Prince had said communicators didn't work down here, but did he mean only that they couldn't penetrate to the upper levels, or that they didn't work at all? Would scanners even work down at ground level? Either way there was nothing Padme could do about it. She held her breath as she heard the speeder pass by her door. To her relief the engine's tone did not change, indicating that they were not slowing their pace or stopping. She counted silently to twenty, then risked poking her head out. The speeder was not far up the street, the passengers silhouetted against their search lights. One was bareheaded, and the other wore a helmet. The bounty hunters.

For a moment, Padme considered stepping out into the street and trying to kill them with her blaster, but she just as quickly dismissed the plan. Her tiny blaster was not very accurate, nor powerful over long distances. Anyway, for now they remained undiscovered. Why risk showing herself to the hunters? Let them remain hidden as long as they could. Silently Padme sank back into the shadows of the building's depths.

Chapter Six

Anakin stared out the window of the Council chamber, watching the lines of traffic go by, struggling to rein in his mounting frustration and anger. Only five of the twelve members of the Jedi Council were present, the others, including Master Yoda, off dealing personally with various centers of unrest throughout the galaxy. The remaining Masters were debating the appropriate course of action. Meanwhile the kidnappers' trail grew colder.

"I think we should put someone else on this case," Mace Windu was saying. Anakin glanced at Obi-Wan and saw him clench his jaw. For once his master was as frustrated and impatient as he was. Master Mace continued, "Obi-Wan and Anakin are too personally involved."

"You can't do that!" Obi-Wan blurted out, surprising even Anakin. Mace turned a stern gaze on Obi-Wan. Holding his impatience in check, Obi-Wan said, "What I meant was, there's no need."

"Outbursts like that only confirm my opinion," Mace observed.

Obi-Wan took a steadying breath, fighting to rise above his anxiety and find his calm center. In a more even tone, he said, "With respect, Masters, Anakin and I have been involved with this conference from the beginning. We know all about the True Life Movement."

"But this is a different organization," Ki-Adi-Mundi pointed out.

"Yes, but they split off from the TLM. We know about the TLM's cells, their philosophy, their members --"

Again, Mace interrupted him. "Then you will be able to brief whomever we decide to send. That is no reason for us to send you."

"You are being overly cautious, Mace," Adi Gallia spoke up, to Obi- Wan's relief. He and Qui-Gon had been on a number of missions with Adi and her apprentice Siri, now a Knight herself. "We do not have to be impartial in order to fulfill our duty, and I think the connection Obi-Wan and Anakin have with the Prince and Queen Amidala can help them locate their whereabouts."

Master Mace leaned back in his chair, pressing his fingertips together. "At present that is immaterial, since we still have no idea where to even start looking. In the meantime, we must focus our energies on maintaining calm among the conference attendees." And the Council again degenerated into futile discussion.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, using Jedi calming techniques to control his impatience. The problem was that they really didn't know where to start looking. The vehicle used by the kidnappers had a false registration, and no one had been able to trace the origin of the holovid of the Prince reading the kidnappers' demands. The image of Bail in that holovid rose up in Obi-Wan's mind. For once he wished the Jedi were not trained in perfect recall because he could remember each and every bruise on the Prince's face. Obi-Wan's fear for Bail lay like a heavy stone in the pit of his stomach, and he had to admit, however reluctantly, that Master Mace might be right to want to send someone less "personally involved." But he couldn't bear the thought of anyone else going to rescue Bail. I can't lose him, too. I can't go through that again. That might not be a properly Jedi motive, but Obi-Wan couldn't resist it, and if the Council did decide to send someone else, he and Anakin would go on their own.

The comm chimed lightly, and Obi-Wan opened his eyes as Master Mace responded, "Yes?"

"There's someone here to see Obi-Wan."

Mace frowned in Obi-Wan's direction. "Now is not really the time."

"She says she has information about the kidnapping."

Surprised, Mace replied, "Send her up."

A few minutes later the chamber doors opened to admit a padawan aide escorting a young woman who seemed stunned to find herself in a room full of Jedi Knights.

"What do you know about the abduction?" Master Mace asked without ceremony.

The woman only answered his question with a confused expression. "You're Kenobi?" she asked skeptically.

Obi-Wan stepped forward. "I am."

She looked him up and down, appraising him. Finally satisfied, she said, "I'll only talk to you, not to anyone else."

Obi-Wan glanced at Mace, who nodded. "This way." He led her out of the Council chamber and into a nearby conference room where they could talk in private. She eyed Anakin suspiciously. Obi-Wan introduced, "This is my padawan, Anakin Skywalker."

"Pada-who?"

"He is my apprentice," Obi-Wan qualified. "We are a team. If you trust me, you can trust him."

Anakin liked to hear Obi-Wan call them a team. He took a proprietary step closer to his master.

Still the woman said nothing, studying Obi-Wan. At last he prompted, "What did you want to tell me?"

She plopped down into a chair, propping her feet up on the table. Obi- Wan and Anakin both stiffened at what they felt was a lack of proper respect. "I'm a computer engineer," the woman explained. "I work for Frontline Scientific Systems. But more importantly I'm a slicer. That's how I met Bail. I was in grad school studying computer security, and he attended a demonstration I led." Her eyes narrowed. "I'm an old friend of his."

"I see." Obi-Wan knew perfectly well what she meant.

Abruptly she laughed. "That's right. Old friend, ex-lover. All Bail's old friends are ex-lovers." She paused, sizing him up again. "Except you, I guess. You know, you're not very popular among Bail's...old friends."

"You said you had information about the kidnapping," Obi-Wan again prompted, in an even tone that Anakin recognized meant his master was annoyed. He had heard that tone often enough.

"Yeah," the woman agreed almost reluctantly. "When I heard about the kidnapping, I immediately got to work. I looked into the information on the vehicle they used, and the report on the suspects."

"That information has not been released to the public," Obi-Wan noted.

"I know," she replied. "As I said, I'm a slicer. I also read the report you wrote." She gave him a moment to let that news sink in. She could only have accessed that report by slicing into the Temple's own computer system. "I know what the Security Forces know and what they don't. I know what you Jedi know and what you don't. And I know that none of you have any leads." She paused again, with that infuriatingly self-satisfied grin on her face. "But I do."

Obi-Wan was getting really irritated with the cryptic self-importance of this "old friend" of Bail's. And he didn't like the way she kept referring to the Prince by his first name. Obi-Wan tended to be very formal when talking about the Prince to other people. As his demeanor grew milder, Anakin recognized that he was getting close to the point of leaning over and throttling the woman. Anakin was amazed. He had never seen anyone irritate his master so thoroughly. Except himself.

"And what have you found?" Obi-Wan asked, to all appearances as disinterested as if they were discussing the times tables.

She gave him a smug smile. "I found out who outfitted that freighter with weapons. It's true I haven't been able to crack the registry on the vehicle, but I was able to cross reference the alias used to place the order for the work with a list I have of aliases used by the TLM, and I then --"

Obi-Wan cut her short. If there was one thing slicers loved more than slicing, it was telling people about it. "I really don't need to know how you found it. I just need to know what you found. You know who the kidnappers are?"

Somewhat chagrined, she confessed, "Well, I don't exactly know who they are, but I do have a pretty good idea where they are. I can't be absolutely certain, but when I cross referenced all of the --"

"Please," Obi-Wan interjected. "The short version."

She sighed. Laymen! "I believe their HQ is in quadrant L-42, possibly in the vicinity of the Kathol sector." Irked at having been deprived of the chance to display her genius, she griped, "They weren't kidding when they said you were a hard-ass!"

Obi-Wan's eyes flashed in anger, and for a moment Anakin thought his master really would strangle her. "If you dislike me so much, why did you come to me specifically? Why not go to the Security Forces?"

"Well, my techniques aren't exactly legal, are they? Besides, I don't have to like you. I know you'll do whatever you can to get Bail back safely."

Only slightly appeased, Obi-Wan asked, "Is there anything else you can tell us?"

"No, that's about it." She hesitated. "Only that the way they covered their trail was strange. In some ways it was the tightest security I've ever seen, and yet at other times they made very amateurish mistakes. My guess is it was a novice group that had a lot of very talented and powerful help."

Obi-Wan nodded pensively, then stood to show the woman out. As he held the door open for her, she gave him a cunning look. "One more thing. When you see Bail, tell him to give Cait Nandreeson a call. We really ought to get together again. It's been way too long." With a gratified smile, she turned and exited the room.

The morning had found Padme, Jar Jar, and Bail in surprisingly good spirits. Even Padme's news about the appearance of the bounty hunters during the night only temporarily brought them down. They surmised that if the hunters had already searched the area, they would be less likely to pass by again anytime soon.

They were all stiff from having slept on the ground all night, but other than that everyone felt fine. Bail's headache was gone, although his bruises had blossomed into a rainbow of colors. On his watch, Jar Jar had managed to find a large snake for them to eat for breakfast, and everyone agreed it was a vast improvement over rat.

Despite the threat of the bounty hunters, they decided to travel in the streets again. The buildings were simply too dark and the corridors too labyrinthine for them to even be certain they were traveling in a uniform direction.

As they headed out into the gray morning, Bail observed, "You know, in a way this is kind of exciting. I've never been to the ground level of Coruscant before. It's like exploring a ghost town."

Alarmed, Jar Jar squealed, "There's ghosts here?"

Padme laughed, and Bail explained, "Not real ghosts. Only the ghosts of memory, of the people who once lived here."

Curious, Padme asked, "How long has it been since anyone lived at the ground level?"

Bail shrugged. "I'm not really sure. Hundreds of years, probably. Of course as I said before, there are people who live in parts of the ground level, but they are unregistered."

"Why the peoples stopped liven here?" Jar Jar asked.

"People like to live up high where they can see the sky. I suppose as the city kept growing up, so moved the population."

With a hint of rebuke in her voice, Padme queried, "How can you have lived here as long as you have, and yet you've never visited the ground level? I would think as a Senator you would want to know about the planet."

With a smile, Bail replied, "Well, I think I do know quite a bit about Coruscant. But I've never had any reason to go to the ground level before."

It occurred to Padme that she could take this time to talk with Bail about her own decision to become a Senator. She still wasn't ready to tell Jar Jar, though, so she needed to be circumspect. Hopefully the Prince would pick up that fact. "How did you become a Senator?"

"Dishonestly, of course," Bail quipped. "I slept my way to the appointment."

His evasive answer annoyed her, but not as much as it would have when they had first met. "Seriously," she urged.

"Believe it or not, I earned the appointment."

"But why did you become a Senator? Is it part of your duties as Prince?"

"Oh no. Thank heavens I have no duties as a Prince aside from the occasional speech on national holidays."

Confused, Padme admitted, "I don't understand. Then why are you a Prince?"

Bail laughed. "I forgot. You are elected Queen. It's not like that on Alderaan. Many years ago my planet was engulfed in a terrible war. My great-great-great-grand-mother was the one who brokered peace and helped the people recover. In gratitude Alderaan bestowed royal titles on our family, but it's only an honorific. We have no actual power. I'm proud to say that my family has lived up to that legacy." He smiled. "Except for me, of course. There's a black sheep in every family. All my relatives entered respectable professions. My mother is a lawyer, and my father is a University professor. My sisters are all so dignified it's frightening. But I went into politics."

"But what made you choose it?"

With a grin, Bail admitted, "I love to hear myself talk. My father would always take me with him on all his formal appearances. I gave my first speech when I was seven years old. It was a patriotic speech about the proud heritage of Alderaan and how we all must strive to live up to it. I'm sure it was a ridiculous speech, the kind of thing only a seven-year old can get away with. But I have always loved it. The Alderaani have a strong sense of civic responsibility, and we have always been leaders in the Republic. And since I love to talk, I really only had two choices: politics or law. And I wasn't about to intrude on my mother's territory."

"Do you enjoy being a Senator?" Padme asked.

"Yousa meeten lots of peoples, methinks," Jar Jar added.

"Oh yes, the people are fascinating."

"And yousa goin to lotsa worlds, too, eh?"

Bail cocked his head at the Gungan. "Maybe you'd like to be a senator?"

Jar Jar's eyestalks contracted thoughtfully. "Meeten new peoples is fun," he agreed. "But some peoples is bombad."

"That's true enough. Like Senator Kleyvits." Bail made a face. "Every calling has its price. Still, in a way I even enjoy dealing with the 'bombad' ones. I relish the challenge of opposing them and trying to stop whatever nefarious plots they're scheming. But it's more than that. As we argue and debate, there's always the chance that one of us may be converted to a new point of view. After all, whether as enemies or friends, in the end we all have to figure out how to live together."

"We learned that on Naboo," Padme observed. "The Gungans and the Naboo used to hate each other."

"But now wesa good friends," Jar Jar smiled.

"I haven't had a chance to get to know you yet, Jar Jar," Bail apologized. "We humans have all been a little... preoccupied. Tell me about yourself." He nudged Jar Jar in the ribs. "Maybe you have a special someone at home? Or several special someones?"

The question only confused Jar Jar. "What kinda someones?"

Suppressing a smile, Padme clarified, "Gungans don't reach sexual maturity until they're in their thirties."

A look of mock horror crossed Bail's face. "Not until their thirties? That's the most terrible thing I've ever heard!" He paused. "Then again, there are those who would say I haven't reached my sexual maturity yet, either." Padme laughed, and he turned on her. "And at what age do the Naboo reach sexual maturity? Certainly before their thirties, I think."

Padme blushed. "Sometime before their thirties."

"Aha. So do you have any special someones lined up at home?"

"If I did, I certainly wouldn't tell you."

"Smart woman. Still, perhaps your reticence is designed to protect a certain sensitive youth we all know."

"Who?" Jar Jar asked, feeling largely left out of the whole conversation. As Padme had said, he was not old enough to have had romance enter his life yet. He thought all this talk of 'special someones' might refer to the Bosses.

"He means Anakin," Padme explained.

"Oh." Jar Jar certainly thought Anakin was special.

Bail kicked absently at a rock. "Obi-Wan told me the boy at one time had quite a crush on you, but I've never heard him talk about you. Then again, I'm hardly his confidant. He talked about you, though, Jar Jar."

"He did?" the Gungan echoed, pleased to hear that Anakin consider him a 'special someone,' too.

"He's certainly glad to see you both."

"And we're glad to see him," Padme returned.

"Only..." Jar Jar sighed. "My missen Qui-Gon."

Padme nodded sadly, and Bail looked back and forth between the two of them, surprised. "Did you know him so well?"

"He saved my life," Jar Jar enthused.

"And mine," Padme added. "He saved our whole world."

"Jedi Knights have a tendency to do that," Bail observed mildly. A reverent sadness had fallen over his two companions, an emotion he recognized well from encountering it in Obi-Wan and Anakin whenever Qui-Gon was mentioned. Even though he had personally never known Qui- Gon well enough to mourn him, Bail knew he ought to respect their grief, but it annoyed him that while Qui-Gon and Anakin obviously inspired devotion in Padme and Jar Jar, neither of them had said anything about Obi-Wan. Protectively, Bail challenged, "Still, if Qui- Gon saved your world, he had Obi-Wan's help."

"Of course," Padme offered, her thoughts still on Qui-Gon.

It wasn't the response he'd been hoping for. He had noticed Padme's disapproval and Jar Jar's reserve around his friend, and it occurred to Bail that he seldom saw Obi-Wan in the company of anyone but himself and Anakin. What was he like with other people? How did they perceive him? "You don't like Obi-Wan, do you?"

The two hesitated in uncomfortable silence. At last Jar Jar offered, "He was always yellen at me before. Hesa nicer now."

"It's not that we don't like him. It's just that he's rather... stern."

"That's because he has Anakin for an apprentice. That boy is a wild child. Obi-Wan doesn't always know how to handle him."

With a frown, Padme asked, "Is he that bad?"

"He's not bad, he's just lively. The Jedi raise their students from infancy, you know. I've met five-year-olds at the Temple with more self-possession and discipline than people ten times their age. But Anakin grew up apart from the Temple. The Jedi see him as undisciplined, but I keep telling Obi-Wan he's just a typical adolescent boy. Anakin would hate to hear this, but he reminds me very much of me at that age."

"But Obi-Wan isn't stern with you," Padme pointed out.

"No, but I'm not his padawan. Thank heavens! If he'd been one of my teachers, I'd have tried him just as severely. I was excruciatingly obnoxious in my youth." Bail beamed. "But now, everyone likes me!"

Jar Jar smiled at him, but Padme wouldn't give in so easily. "Well, you're not too bad," she teased.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," he said grandly, as if she had paid him an enormous complement. "And I'm glad you both like Anakin so much. I understand he doesn't have many friends." This surprised Padme, but she didn't have a chance to ask about it because Bail continued, "But I do hope you'll give Obi-Wan another chance. He really is quite charming."

Padme doubted she would ever describe Obi-Wan that way, but she willingly conceded, "You've had a chance to know him better than we do. But I'm sure he'll grow on us."

Suddenly Jar Jar froze, his floppy ears perking up. "Someone's comen!" he squealed.

"Where? From what direction?" Bail asked.

"It doesn't matter!" Padme's eyes darted frantically, searching for the nearest shelter. "This way!" she called, dashing toward one of the buildings.

But she never made it. From around a corner a speeder appeared, bearing down on them. Any hope they might have had that it would be their Jedi friends was crushed by the sight of the bounty hunters. They fired the speeder's laser cannon in front of the threesome, cutting off their attempted escape as chunks of the sidewalk exploded before them. They shied back, and Padme stepped in front of the other two, her tiny blaster raised.

The speeder hovered before them. The helmeted bounty hunter stood up in the passenger seat, a large rifle cradled easily on her hip. "Do you really think your little gun can harm us, Your Majesty?" she sneered. "Why don't you just put your weapon down?"

Padme's blaster hand trembled, but she did not lower it. There was a remote chance she could shoot the man in the head, but her gun would not penetrate the woman's armor. Her defiance could not possibly save them, but she was not ready to give up yet. She spread her feet in a solid stance and held her blaster with both hands.

The woman stepped casually out of the speeder and moved toward them, Padme tracking her with her blaster. The hunter raised her rifle. "I can shoot it out of your hands, but at such close range I would probably take your hands off with it. Is that what you want?"

>From behind her, she felt Bail's hand rest on her shoulder, giving her a gentle squeeze. Reluctantly, she lowered her arms, pointing the blaster at the ground.

Bail stepped forward to stand next to Padme. "Are you taking us back to the Hammer?" he asked. Talk: that was the best defense he knew. He didn't know what it would accomplish in the end, but he would buy every extra second of life he could get.

"Sorry. I know how fond you are of them. But no." The bounty hunter advanced leisurely toward them, and the three of them moved backwards.

"You're working for someone else, then?" Bail asked. He could hear the fear in his own voice. He wished he sounded more calm, but that was hard to do when he was facing two bounty hunters carrying nasty looking rifles. "Or maybe you have your own interest in us?"

She laughed. Padme didn't like the sound. "Sorry, Organa, I don't have the slightest interest in any of you."

Continuing to backpedal, Bail said, "Too bad, because I'm sure we could come to an agreement that would be greatly to your benefit."

The other bounty hunter exited the vehicle to join his companion, but she continued to do the talking. "You'd like to think that, wouldn't you? Only it's our policy not to make deals with the quarry. Bad for business, you know. No, we always deliver."

The three of them bumped against the wall. They had nowhere else to go. Bail gulped. His fear was really kicking in, which meant he tended to prattle. "I understand that. Matter of principle, and all. Of course, the galaxy is a very large place. There are plenty of other worlds that could use your talents, and we can reward you quite handsomely if you let us go. I dare say we even could help you avoid your employers if --"

The woman growled, turning her rifle on him. "Shut up, Organa, or I'll shut your mouth for you."

But Bail couldn't shut up. "No doubt your employers have their own plans for us."

"No. He just wants you dead. Lucky us, though. He didn't say how you had to die. We just need enough of you left for a DNA test. Of course, it only takes a hair." She stepped forward and reached toward the Prince, plucking a hair from his head. She held it up in front of him. "Done."

Bail's knees turned to water, and he had to lean against the wall to remain standing. "But you don't need the others, do you? You can let them go."

"Nope. He wanted all of you. Now, that's enough talk." She nodded at Padme. "I like your style, Your Majesty. If you behave yourself, I might kill you quickly." Turning to Jar Jar, she said, "I've never dealt with one of your kind before, frog boy. I'll enjoy seeing what kind of stuff you're made of." Then she faced Bail once more. "And you talk way too much. I don't like that. But I do like screams. You'll scream for me, won't you, my pretty little Prince?" She lowered her rifle and grabbed a handful of Bail's shirt.

Without warning, Padme shoved off from the wall and plowed straight into the bounty hunter, hitting her square in the chest with her shoulder and kicking at her rifle hand. "Run!" she shouted as she raised her blaster at the other hunter and squeezed off a series of shots to his head. He ducked clear and raised his rifle, but he couldn't shoot Padme without hitting the other hunter.

"Foolish move, girl!" the bounty hunter snarled, grabbing Padme by the hair and twisting her around, forcing her to her knees. Padme kicked out behind her, connecting with the woman's shin. The bounty hunter fell heavily over her. Padme grabbed for the rifle, but the hunter had not let go of it. They grappled for the gun, rolling on the ground. Suddenly the bounty hunter let go and drove her elbow into Padme's chin. Her head snapped back against the ground, stunning her, and the bounty hunter grabbed the rifle out of her hands, scrambling to her feet.

Padme heard a blast of laser fire. No! she silently wailed, fearing that the others had been shot. Then she heard an explosion, and shards of hot metal zinged past her. To her surprise, the bounty hunter dashed off. Padme rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself up to her knees. The hunters' speeder was in flames, and another speeder was bearing down on them, the two bounty hunters running to face it.

Over the sound of laser fire she heard someone calling her name. She turned and saw Bail and Jar Jar crouched behind a corner, beckoning to her. She scrambled to her feet and ran to join them. "What's going on?"

"It's Ani!" Jar Jar cried in jubilation. She peered around the corner. Sure enough it was the two Jedi. Anakin was at the speeder's controls. He whipped the vehicle around to face the two hunters, who were running to flank the speeder. The male hunter dropped to one knee and let loose a volley of shots straight in the speeder's belly as it flew past him. Effortlessly, the two Jedi leaped clear of the disabled vehicle. Obi-Wan somersaulted through the air, landing right on top of the surprised bounty hunter, his saber plunging straight into the man's chest. As the hunter fell back, Obi-Wan freed his weapon and spun to join his padawan.

But Anakin needed no help. He had landed far from the other bounty hunter, then used the momentum of his landing to jump again, dodging the laser blast she fired at him. He landed in front of her, slicing his lightsaber through her rifle, and with the backhand sweep cleaving her head neatly off her body just as Obi-Wan ran up next to him.

"Ani! Ani!" He turned and saw Jar Jar running toward him, the others close behind. The Gungan threw his arms around Anakin. "Yousa saven all of us!" Padme beamed at him, her eyes as bright as Tatooine's twin suns. She hugged him, kissing him on the cheek and pressing her face against his. "I can't believe you found us!" she whispered.

Amazed to have her alive and safe and holding him, Anakin didn't know what to say. Embarrassed, he shrugged himself free of her embrace and moved awkwardly away.

Obi-Wan clasped the Prince tightly to him, then pulled back to inspect his face. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Bail assured him, before realizing what the Jedi meant. Touching his face he said, "Ah, yes. My makeover, courtesy of the aptly named Hammer. It's purely cosmetic surgery, I assure you." He scratched lightly at the gash over his eyebrow. "I'm hoping this one will leave a scar. It would add a hint of danger to my mystique, don't you think?"

Obi-Wan smiled tightly, saying nothing, but he did not let go of the Prince's hand. He turned to Padme. "And you, Your Highness? Jar Jar?"

"We're fine, especially now that you two are here."

"How yousa finden us?" Jar Jar wondered.

Obi-Wan glanced self-consciously at the Prince. "We had help from an old friend of yours. She provided us with a general location, but it was the firefight that led us to you."

Anakin busied himself with inspecting their crashed speeder, sick with relief that Padme and the others were all right. He listened anxiously while Padme recounted to Obi-Wan the story of their escape and subsequent flight. Now that they were all reunited, the reality that Padme might very well have died finally penetrated Anakin's consciousness. All the fear and worry he had held back during the search, the worst scenarios he had not permitted himself to imagine, now flooded over him in a torrent, leaving him weak and frightened, trembling so hard he could barely remain standing. Inspecting the speeder wreck gave him a focus to help still his distress.

Obi-Wan had to call to him twice before Anakin even heard him. "What?" he asked.

"I asked whether the speeder is salvageable."

Anakin shook his head.

"Now what will we do?" Padme despaired.

"If we wait here, the Temple will be able to track the speeder and pick us up." Obi-Wan noticed Padme's skeptical look. "What?"

"These people who were attacking us. They weren't part of the Hammer. They were bounty hunters. They were trying to kill us, not capture us."

Obi-Wan knelt to inspect the body of the helmeted one, noticing her weapons and the custom armor she wore. It looked somehow familiar. "This one is a Fett," he realized.

At the announcement, Anakin felt a sinister flush of pride he knew his master would not approve of. The Fetts were a notorious mercenary family, generally viewed as the most dangerous bounty hunters in the galaxy. And he had killed one!

"Now that these bounty hunters have failed, whoever sent them might send others," Padme observed.

Obi-Wan considered, nodding his head slowly. "If that's so, it's not safe to stay here."

"Wait a minute," Bail interjected. "Are you suggesting that we should leave the speeder, when you said the Temple will send help?"

"But it may not be for a while. When we saw the bounty hunters we sent a message back to the Temple, but down here in the lower levels we can't be sure it got through, and I don't think it's a good idea to wait here when more bounty hunters may show up before the Jedi."

Bail's self-control threatened to collapse. He was exhausted, hungry, and thirsty, and he had no desire to go back into the ground level's hidden dangers. With a trembling voice, he pled, "But Obi-Wan, how will we get out of here?"

It was Anakin who answered. "We go up," he said.

"But how?" Bail asked. "The lower levels of the buildings are sealed."

"We go up the outside," Anakin clarified, moving closer to the nearest building and peering up into the fog. "The lowest lanes of traffic are about eighteen or twenty levels up. We use our ascension guns to get up to a ledge within sight of traffic, and we flag someone down."

Jar Jar began to whimper, and Padme felt like joining him. When she had used ascension guns during the Trade Federation's occupation of Naboo, they had only ascended about three or four meters. The distance Anakin was proposing was twenty times that height. "It would take three or four minutes to make the ascent," she calculated. "That's a long time to have to hang on."

"I've done it before," Anakin assured her.

Anxiously, the Prince fretted, "Yes, well, I'm sorry to have to point out to you, Anakin, that not all of us here are Jedi."

Jar Jar flexed his hands, worried. His arms were very powerful, but his hands were not. "Mesa no can hang on."

Obi-Wan mused, "If we make the ascent in short increments, we can do it. Anakin and I can carry you all up." Neither Bail nor Jar Jar appeared convinced. Obi-Wan observed, "It will certainly get us out of here quickly."

"I can do it," Padme announced, projecting more confidence that she felt. "If we take it twenty meters at a time," she set her jaw. "I can make it."

Obi-Wan studied her, trying to gauge her ability. But if she said she could do it, he believed her. "If you and Anakin go up the first section and scout out a secure ledge where we can gather, then Anakin can come back down, and he and I can carry Jar Jar and Bail up." Padme and Anakin looked ready to go, and Obi-Wan turned to the others. "It's up to you whether you want to try it."

"I can carry you, Jar Jar," Anakin assured him. "You won't fall."

Bail's eyes were filled with doubt, but he said, "If you two really think you can carry us, then I'll trust you."

Nodding to Anakin, Obi-Wan unhooked his ascension gun. With Anakin beside him, they aimed their guns and fired up into the fog. The grapples disappeared overhead and the two Jedi monitored the gauge on the guns. At around twenty meters they used the Force to push the grapple hooks into the wall. Giving the cord a few tugs, Obi-Wan handed his gun to Padme. She gulped hard, forcing herself to banish her doubts. "You ready?" Anakin asked. She nodded and squeezed the recoil trigger. The reel pulled her up at a steady pace. She kept her eyes focused on the line above her, not daring to look down. I'll be fine, she chanted like a mantra in her head.

They reached the lowest levels of the thick brown fog, which parted effortlessly before them. Suddenly dark shadows flitted overhead. Startled, Padme tightened her grip on the gun. An eerie screech sounded above her, and one of the shadows flapped down into view, an enormous flying mammal with leathery wings, its talons outstretched.

"Hawk bats!" Anakin yelled. One-handed, he ignited his lightsaber. "Hang on! I'll take care of them." The blade slashed, skewering one of the bats, but more descended from the clouds. The pale blue blade wove a shield of pure energy around Padme, but in his effort to protect the Queen, Anakin left himself exposed. One of the bats struck his shoulder, razor sharp talons slicing through his tunic. He struggled not to lose hold of his saber.

Below them the other three watched, horrified. Obi-Wan grabbed one of the bounty hunter's guns and started picking off the bats, but there were too many of them, and they were too relentless. Helpless, all he could do was watch as his padawan tried to fight them off. But the boy could not keep up. The bats buffeted Padme and tangled themselves in the gun's line. Suddenly she lost her grip and plummeted.

"No!" Jar Jar screamed.

Startled by Padme's fall, Anakin twisted on his line. The bats threw themselves at him with renewed fury, and he swatted blindly at them. His blade tangled with the thread, slicing through it and dropping him as well.

Obi-Wan positioned himself beneath Padme, using the Force to slow her as she fell toward him. He reached out and caught her, the force of her landing almost knocking him to the ground, but he did not drop her. Next to him, Anakin landed in a Force-cushioned blow, his ankle twisting beneath him.

Padme clung to Obi-Wan's neck, her heart beating furiously. It had all happened so fast she barely had time to register that she was falling until Obi-Wan caught her. She began to tremble, gulping for breath.

"You're all right," Obi-Wan soothed. He knelt, lowering her to the ground, but she didn't let go of him. He looked over at Anakin. "Are you okay?"

The boy's face was pale, and he clutched his ankle. "I think I twisted it."

"It's a miracle you didn't break it." Or worse. Obi-Wan berated himself for the catastrophe. He should have never agreed to the plan.

Anakin picked up on his master's thoughts. "It would've worked if it hadn't been for the bats," he said. "We must have hit near one of their rookeries."

Jar Jar knelt beside Padme, gratefully wrapping her up in his lanky arms and extracting her from Obi-Wan's embrace, while Bail looked on, struggling to regain his composure and not particularly succeeding.

"My gun got smashed in the fall," Anakin pointed out. He glanced overhead. The other gun was nowhere to be seen.

"So much for that idea," Obi-Wan concluded. "There's a ground plaza about fifty kilometers from here. It will be a fair walk, but not an impossible one. We'll stay inside the buildings as much as possible."

"Master," Anakin started to protest.

"What?" Obi-Wan asked.

Anakin had ventured into the lower levels often. The buildings housed all manner of unfriendliness. In an empty quarter like this, they would be safer on the streets. That is, if they didn't have bounty hunters after them. "Good plan," he amended.

Obi-Wan's brow furrowed. It had occurred to him more than once so far that Anakin's illicit adventures could very well qualify him to get them all out of their predicament. Even Obi-Wan could count on only one hand the number of times he had been in the lower levels. Maybe he had been right all along to permit Anakin his excursions.

"Then let's cull anything of use from this wreckage and get started."