The Phantom Menace (10 page)

In seconds, they were gone.

Sunlight began to crest the dark bulk of the Mospic, and C-3PO was speaking to him in a rush of words that tumbled over one another, the skeletal metal arms jerking this way and that.

“Master Anakin, they’ve gone! Oh, we’re lucky to be alive! Thank goodness they didn’t hurt you!”

Anakin climbed to his feet. There were Tusken Raider footprints everywhere. He glanced about quickly. The speeder and the droids obtained from the Jawas sat undisturbed beneath the overhang. The Tusken blaster rifle was gone.

“Master Anakin, what should we do?” C-3PO wailed in dismay.

Anakin looked around at the empty canyon floor, at the high ragged walls of the cliff face, and at the brightening
sky where the stars were fading away. He listened to the deep silence and felt impossibly alone and vulnerable.

“We should go home,” he whispered, and moved swiftly to make it happen.

N
ute Gunray stood in silence at the center of the palace throne room in the Naboo capital city of Theed and listened patiently as Governor Sio Bibble protested the Trade Federation presence. Rune Haako stood at his side. Both wore their Federation robes of office and inscrutable expressions. Two dozen battle droids held the Naboo occupants of the room at gunpoint. The city had fallen shortly after sunrise. There had been little resistance; the Naboo were a peaceful people. The Trade Federation invasion had come as a surprise, and the droid army was inside the gates of the city before any substantial defense could be mounted. What few weapons there were had been confiscated and the Naboo removed to detention camps. Battle droids were combing the city even now to put an end to any lingering resistance.

Gunray resisted a smile. Apparently the Queen had believed right up to the end that negotiations would prevail and the Senate would provide the people of Naboo with protection.

“It is bad enough, Viceroy, that you dare to disrupt
transmissions between the Queen and Senator Palpatine while he is attempting to argue our cause before the Republic Senate, bad enough that you pretend that this blockade is a lawful action, but landing an entire army on our planet and occupying our cities is too outrageous for words.”

Sio Bibble was a tall, balding man with a sharply pointed beard and an even sharper tongue. He held the floor just at the moment, but Gunray was getting tired of listening to him.

He glanced at the other captives. Captain Panaka, the Queen’s head of security, and four of the Queen’s personal guards stood to one side, stripped of their weapons and helpless. Panaka was stone-faced and hard-eyed as he watched the Neimoidians. He was a big, powerfully built man with a dark, smooth face and quick eyes. The Neimoidian did not like the way those eyes were fixed on him.

The Queen sat upon her throne, surrounded by her handmaidens. She was serene and aloof, detached from everything, as if what was taking place had no effect on her, could not touch her in any way. She wore black, her white-painted face in sharp contrast to the black feathered headdress that wrapped and framed it. A gold chain lay across her regal brow and the red beauty mark split her lower lip. She was considered beautiful, Gunray had been told, but he had no sense of human beauty and by Neimoidian standards she was simply colorless and small-featured.

What interested him was her youth. She was barely out of girlhood, certainly not a full-grown woman, and yet the people of Naboo had chosen her as their Queen. This wasn’t one of those monarchies where blood determined right of rule and dynasties prevailed. The Naboo
chose the wisest among them as their ruler by popular acclaim, and Queen Amidala governed at the sufferance of her people. Why they would choose someone so young and naive was a mystery to him. From his point of view it certainly hadn’t served them well in this instance.

Governor Sio Bibble’s voice echoed through the cavernous chamber, rising to the high, vaulted ceiling, bouncing off the smooth, sunlit walls. Theed was an opulent, prosperous city and the throne room reflected its history of success.

“Viceroy, I ask you point-blank.” Sio Bibble was concluding his oration. “How do you intend to explain this invasion to the Senate?”

The Neimoidian’s flat, reptilian countenance managed a small flicker of humor. “The Naboo and the Trade Federation will forge a treaty that will legitimize our occupation of Theed. I have been assured that such a treaty, once produced, will be quickly ratified by the Senate.”

“A treaty?” the governor exclaimed in astonishment. “In the face of this completely unlawful action?”

Amidala rose from her throne and stepped forward, surrounded by her cloaked and hooded handmaidens. Her eyes were sharp with anger. “I will not cooperate.”

Nute Gunray exchanged a quick glance with Rune Haako. “Now, now, Your Highness,” he purred. “Don’t be too hasty with your pronouncements. You are not going to like what we have in store for your people. In time, their suffering will persuade you to see our point of view.”

He turned away. “Enough talk.” He beckoned. “Commander?” Battle droid OOM-9 stepped forward, narrow metal snout lowering slightly in response. “Process them,” the viceroy ordered.

OOM-9 signaled for one of his sergeants to take over,
metallic voice directing that the prisoners be taken to Camp Four. The battle droids herded the Queen, her handmaidens, Governor Bibble, Captain Panaka, and the Naboo guards from the room.

Nute Gunray’s slit reddish orange eyes followed them out, then shifted back to Haako and the room. He felt a deep sense of satisfaction take hold. Everything was going exactly as it should.

The sergeant and a dozen battle droids moved the prisoners along the polished stone halls of the Theed palace and outside to where a series of terraced steps led downward through statuary and buttress work to a broad plaza. The plaza was filled with Federation tanks and battle droids and was empty of Naboo citizens. The tanks were squat, shovel-nosed vehicles with their main cannon mounted on a turret above and behind the cockpit and smaller blasters set low and to either side. They had the look of foraging beetles as they edged about the plaza’s perimeter.

Beyond, the buildings of Theed stretched away toward the horizon, a vast sprawl of high stone walls, gilded domes, peaked towers, and sculpted archways. Sunlight bathed the gleaming edifices, their architecture in counterpoint to the lush greenness of the planet. The rush of waterfalls and bubble of fountains formed a soft, distant backdrop to the strange silence created by the absence of the populace.

The prisoners were taken across the plaza past the Trade Federation machines of war. No one spoke. Even Governor Bibble had gone silent, his gray-bearded head lowered in dark contemplation. They departed the plaza and turned down a broad avenue that led to the outskirts of the city and the newly constructed Trade Federation
detention camps. STAPs hummed overhead, shadows flitting off the walls of the buildings, metal shells gleaming as they darted away.

The droids had just turned their prisoners down a quiet byway when their sergeant, who was leading the procession, brought them to an abrupt halt.

Two men stood directly in their way, both wearing loose robes over belted tunics, the taller with his hair worn long, the shorter with his cut to a thin braided pigtail. Their arms hung loosely at their sides, but they did not have the look of men who were unprepared.

For a moment, each group stared at the other in silence. Then the narrow face of a Gungan peeked out from behind the two robed figures, eyes wide and frightened.

Qui-Gon Jinn stepped forward. “Are you Queen Amidala of the Naboo?” he asked the young woman in the feathered headdress.

The Queen hesitated. “Who are you?”

“Ambassadors from the supreme chancellor.” The Jedi Master inclined his head slightly. “We seek an audience with you, Your Highness.”

The droid sergeant suddenly seemed to remember where he was and what he was doing. He gestured to his soldiers. “Clear them away!”

Four of the battle droids moved to obey. They were just shifting their weapons into firing position when the Jedi activated their lightsabers and cut them apart. As the shattered droids collapsed, the Jedi moved quickly to dispatch the others. Laser bolts were blocked, weapons were knocked aside, and the remaining droids were reduced to scrap metal.

The sergeant turned to flee, but Qui-Gon brought up his hand, holding the droid fast with the power of the
Force. In seconds, the sergeant lay in a ruined heap with his command.

Quickly, the Naboo soldiers moved to recover the fallen weapons. The Jedi Knights flicked off their lightsabers and motioned everyone out of the open street and into the shelter of an alley between two buildings. Jar Jar Binks followed, muttering in wonder at the cold efficiency with which the Jedi had dispatched their enemies.

Qui-Gon faced the Queen. “Your Highness, I am Qui-Gon Jinn and my companion is Obi-Wan Kenobi. We are Jedi Knights as well as ambassadors for the supreme chancellor.”

“Your negotiations seem to have failed, Ambassador,” Sio Bibble observed with a snort.

“The negotiations never took place.” Qui-Gon kept his eyes directed toward the Queen. Her painted face showed nothing. “Your Highness,” he continued, “we must make contact with the Republic.”

“We can’t,” Captain Panaka volunteered, stepping forward. “They’ve knocked out all our communications.”

An alarm was being given from somewhere close, and there was the sound of running. Qui-Gon glanced toward the street where the battle droids lay. “Do you have transports?”

The Naboo captain nodded, quick to see what the Jedi intended. “In the main hangar. This way.”

He led the little group to the end of the alleyway, where they crossed to other passageways and backstreets, encountering no one. They moved quickly and silently through the growing sound of alarms and the wicked buzz of STAPs. To their credit, the Naboo did not resist Qui-Gon’s leadership nor question his appearance. With Panaka and his men newly armed, the Naboo Queen and
her companions had a sense of being in control of their own destiny once more and seemed more than ready to take a chance on their rescuers.

It did not take them long to reach their destination. A series of connected buildings dominated one end of a broad causeway, each one domed and cavernous, the central structures warded by arched entrances and low, flat-walled outbuildings. Battle droids were stationed everywhere, weapons held at the ready, but Captain Panaka was able to find an unguarded approach down a narrow corridor between adjoining buildings.

At a side door to the main hangar, Panaka brought the group to a halt. After a quick glance over his shoulder for droids, he unlocked and nudged open the hangar door. With Qui-Gon Jinn pressed close, he peered inside. A handful of Naboo ships were grouped at the center of the hangar, sleek gleaming transports, their noses pointed toward a wide opening in the far wall. Battle droids guarded each, positioned across the entire floor of the hangar to cut off any unseen approach.

Panaka pointed to a long, low ship on the far side of the hangar with swept-back wings and powerful Headon-5 engines. “The Queen’s personal transport,” he whispered to the Jedi Master.

Qui-Gon nodded. A J-type 327 Nubian. In the distance, the alarms continued to sound their steady wail. “That one will do,” he said.

Panaka scanned the hangar interior. “The battle droids. There are too many of them.”

The Jedi eased back from the door. “That won’t be a problem.” He faced the Queen. “Your Highness. Under the circumstances, I suggest you come to Coruscant with us.”

The young woman shook her head, the feathers on her headdress rustling softly. Her white-painted face was
calm and her gaze steady. “Thank you, Ambassador, but my place is here with my people.”

“I don’t think so,” Qui-Gon responded, locking eyes. “The Trade Federation has other plans. They will kill you if you stay.”

Sio Bibble pushed to the Queen’s side. “They wouldn’t dare!”

“They need her to sign a treaty to make this invasion of theirs legal!” Captain Panaka pointed out. “They can’t afford to kill her!”

The Queen looked from face to face, the barest flicker of uncertainty showing in her eyes.

“The situation here is not what it seems,” Qui-Gon pressed. “There is something else going on, Your Highness. There is no logic to the Federation’s actions. My instincts tell me they will destroy you.”

A shadow of real alarm crossed Sio Bibble’s face as the Jedi Master finished. His strong features melted slightly. “Your Highness,” he said slowly. “Perhaps you should reconsider. Our only hope is for the Senate to take our side in this matter. Senator Palpatine will need your help.”

Captain Panaka was having none of it. “Getting past their blockade is impossible, Your Highness—even if we were to get off the planet! An escape attempt is too dangerous—”

“Your Highness, I will stay here and do what I can,” Sio Bibble interrupted, shaking his head at Panaka. “They will have to retain the Council of Governors in order to maintain some semblance of order. But you must leave—”