| abstract | - Far enough away from Naboo, they stopped to assess the damage. Ric Olié ran through all the readouts on the ship’s systems, Obi-Wan sat beside him helping while Padmé, Qui-Gon and Panaka observed. “We can’t go far,” Ric Olié concluded mournfully, thumbing the diagram of the hyperdrive on the datascreen, “the hyperdrive is leaking.” “Then we’ll just have to land somewhere and make repairs,” Qui-Gon replied. “What’s out there?” Ric brought up a starchart and they all leaned over to study it. There were not many friendly worlds in this part of the galaxy. While some were openly hostile to any form of Republic presence others were occupied by the Trade Federation, which was much worse. “Here,” Padmé pointed to a tan-coloured planet in a binary system. “Tatooine. It’s small and out of the way so it attracts little attention.” “And more importantly,” Obi-Wan added, “the Trade Federation has no presence there.” “How can you be so sure?” Panaka asked sceptically. “It’s controlled by the Hutts,” Qui-Gon replied dryly. “The Hutts?” Panaka looked at the Jedi in alarm. “It is risky,” Obi-Wan agreed, “but there’s no reasonable alternative.” “But you can’t take Her Royal Highness there!” Panaka barked. “The Hutts are slavers and gangsters! If they discovered who she was—” “It would be no different than is we landed on a planet controlled by the Trade Federation,” Qui-Gon interrupted coolly, “except that the Hutts are not looking for the Queen, which gives us an advantage.” Panaka started to reply but didn’t, and instead stared into space with frustration. Qui-Gon took this as leave to proceed. “Set course for Tatooine,” he told Ric Olié. In the throne room, Queen Nalanda sat sedately as Panaka gave his report regarding their escape. Beside him was the blue and white astromech droid, its grimy dome revolving to survey the room. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan stood behind him with Padmé slightly to the side. “And I would like to add that without this droid we would not have escaped, Your Highness,” he put his hand on top of the droid, “we are lucky to have it in our service and all owe it our lives.” “It is to be commended then,” said Nalanda with a nod. “What is its number?” Panaka stooped to smear away the grime. “Artoo-Detoo, Your Highness.” “Thankyou Artoo-Detoo,” Nalanda said as the droid gave a gurgle of appreciation, “you will be rewarded for your loyalty and bravery.” She turned to her handmaidens. “Rhadé.” The handmaiden stepped before the Queen. Like all the handmaidens she resembled Nalanda, but as she was given instructions Padmé sensed something else was there. Something she couldn’t quite fathom… “Your Highness, we are heading for the remote planet of Tatooine,” Panaka’s voice broke into her thoughts, the captain looked rather uncomfortably at Qui-Gon. “Tatooine is far beyond the reach of the Trade Federation,” Qui-Gon said reassuringly. “There we can make repairs to the ship and complete our journey to the Capital.” “Your Highness, in the interests of your safety I do not agree with the Jedi on their decision to land there,” Panaka broke in. “Tatooine is dangerous and it is controlled by the Hutts. They are gangsters and slavers.” He deliberately left the ending of his argument open, hoping that Nalanda would agree with him. Yet she looked at Qui-Gon Jinn, and for a moment the mask of state fell from her face. In that instant Padmé glimpsed a frightened young woman, not much older than she was. “You must trust my judgement, Your Highness,” Qui-Gon said reassuringly. “Must I?” Nalanda asked, but the question was not directed at the Jedi Master. Instead her gaze rested on Rhadé who had not yet left the room. During their silent exchange Padmé thought she saw the handmaiden nod slightly, then left the room with the droid in tow. “Very well then,” Nalanda said resignedly, “we are in your hands.” Danta Pela, very much left to his own devices, left the room where he was left and wandered over the ship until he was in the room where Rhadé was cleaning the astromech droid. Padmé passed them as she left the throne room and went into another room and sat cross-legged on the floor. She breathed deeply, relaxing her mind until there was but a single voice of contemplation. A part of her was tempted to make it sound like her fallen Master’s voice, to make as if Shakya Devi was sitting beside her and guiding her mediation. But that was merely wishful thinking. It was only in this completely relaxed state of mind that Padmé could completely control the Force; at other times it seemed to elude her grasp. Like a slippery fish, the tighter she held onto it the more it wriggled from her hands. Other Jedi like Qui-Gon, or even Obi-Wan who was but a Padawan learner like herself, made the Force seem effortless and malleable to their needs. Yet a sudden strong presence in the Force made her open her eyes and smile. She had long suspected Qui-Gon Jinn would talk to her about what she had seen, and about the creature that had killed her Master. “I’m not disturbing you?” Qui-Gon asked politely. “Of course not, Master Jinn,” Padmé said and she rose to her feet. “I was reflecting, trying to forget…” “Tell me about this…creature,” Qui-Gon said, then added reassuringly “it’s your word, not mine.” As best she could Padmé described her, yet this wasn't much as when Shakya had started to fight she had told her Padawan to flee. “She did the right thing then,” Qui-Gon said when she had told him this. “You would have been killed if you had tried to stand and fight.” “But I wish I did fight,” Padmé argued, “that if I had helped…” “…you could have saved Devi’s life?” Qui-Gon finished for her. “That is what is called survivor’s guilt, and it’s not true as it comes from hindsight. We often at the time do the best we can with the knowledge we have, to look back and decide differently does nothing.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, then continued. “As for that which killed her, we can only put it to the Council. Yet if it does work for the Trade Federation as you said, we will see it again.” “You think so?” Padmé asked. “Undoubtedly,” Qui-Gon said. “Master,” Obi-Wan stood in the doorway, “we’re making out approach.” Padmé barely saw the Jedi Master leave, all she kept seeing was her Master’s body as she had left it on Naboo. Her face contorted in pain, her arm bent back at unnatural angle and the large gaping hole in her chest that smelt vaguely of burning. Even when the Naboo security had covered it up the smell was still there. “Tatooine,” Obi-Wan whispered meditatively, the brownish planet filled up the viewport as they approached. He, Qui-Gon and Panaka were pouring over maps that Ric Olié had brought up on the datascreens. The pilot pointed to one of them. “There’s somewhere that might have what we need,” he said to the others. “Mos Espa, it has a spaceport.” “Land near the outskirts,” Qui-Gon ordered, “we don’t want to attract too much attention.” Ric nodded and guided it through the atmosphere and over the never-ending stretch of desert. He landed within sights of the city, swirling up dust as the landing struts touched down. Panaka walked off to inform Nalanda of their landing and Obi-Wan went to examine the hyperdrive. Qui-Gon left to find a change of clothes, but as he left the cockpit he found himself face to face with Padmé. “Master Jinn, could I go with you?” she asked, she wore a rough blue cloak over her Jedi robes. “Mos Espa will not be a pleasant place,” Qui-Gon said, brushing past her and on finding Danta informed the Gungan that he would be accompanying him. “I didn’t except as much,” Padmé stated, “but Obi-Wan can stay here, can’t he? You don’t need us both with the Queen.” Qui-Gon turned to regard her, she did have a point. And, Qui-Gon added in thought, it’s a point in her favour that she’s not dwelling on her loss. “All right,” Qui-Gon conceded, then noticed the astromech droid in the corner. “Get the droid ready,” he said to Padmé, then returned to the main cabin where Obi-Wan was poking through the hyperdrive. “Well? What have you found?” “The generator’s completely shot,” Obi-Wan replied. “We’ll need a new one.” “I figured as much,” Qui-Gon said, then lowered his voice. “We can’t risk any communication, it might be intercepted and our position known. Don’t let anyone send a transmission,” he paused, his eyes darting intuitively. “Be wary Obi-Wan, I sense a disturbance in the Force.” “I feel it also, Master,” his apprentice whispered. “I don’t know what it is we are facing,” he continued, “but if you see anything I want to know immediately.” “Of course, Master,” Obi-Wan replied, knowing as much as Qui-Gon did they were referring to what had killed Master Devi.
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