Return to chapter 5 of A Lost Hope
Amidala sat at her desk, her chin resting on her hands as she
stared about her quarters. What few belongings she had with her
were packed in the two Corellian bags sitting by the door. She
was still debating if she was doing the right thing. With Palpatine
on Naboo, staying to help her people could be the most dangerous
thing she'd ever done. On the other hand, the Naboo were her people:
she had to help them.
She glanced down at the reddish brown surface of her desk. Not
quite the color of dried blood, she realized--then promptly reprimanded
herself for making the comparison. But so much had been shed here
and elsewhere. Since the destruction of Naboo, three other planets
had been attacked. Two were almost uninhabitable. The third...
The third, she thought sadly, was gone. Alliance intelligence
said less than ten thousand of the Durol had survived. They were
being evacuated to other places. With the fear and destruction
wrought by the clones, came the opportunists. There were rumors
that the Hutts were charging exorbitant fees to protect planets
from attack. Gangs of con artists and smugglers were making fortunes
off the victims. There was simply no resources left to fight the
crime that followed destruction like an Emolarian plague.
Then there were the Gungan. Jar-jar had spent three weeks trying
to find more survivors, steadily going into a deeper depression.
The clones had destroyed all their underworld cities and polluted
much of the water. The survivors were pretty desperate. She would
be joining an engineering team from Alderaan to help set up water
purification plants. She just hoped that they weren't too late--that
they could prevent the contamination of the entire water system
on her...on her beautiful world. That caused a sob to catch in
her throat. She couldn't cry. Too much had happened, and there
wasn't time to mourn all that she had lost. She reached for the
cord around her neck and pulled the Japar wood pendant out from
under her dark blue tunic. She rubbed the well worn surface. "Where
did it go wrong?" She asked the air. They all had lost much--and
unless the deities were kind--they were about to lose more. She
tapped her comm-unit. "Has my message been received yet?"
A young voice answered. "Yes, Ma'am. The Princess Organa
is on line."
"Thank-you," she said quietly, then flicked a switch.
"Hello."
"Hello." The blonde woman's image smiled sadly. "I
heard. Amidala, I can't believe he..." The image looked shocked,
there was a quick gasp then silence.
"I can," Amidala said quietly. She recognized the malignancy
in the man. Nothing could stand in his way of complete power--not
even his home world. The pain inside her threatened to break out
again.
"Be careful, please," Kalla said. "I wish you weren't
planning to stay."
"I have to," she cut in. "These are my people,
this is my home. The Naboo are a proud people, we will survive
this--" She added very softly, "--somehow. You would
do the same for Alderaan."
Kalla nodded. "I do understand, just be careful."
"I shall. I'll stay until the first refugee convoy leaves,
then we'll put things in motion." She hoped that Kalla understood
the meaning.
Kalla's image had a wistful smile. "Good. Until then."
"Until then," Amidala repeated then cut the transmission.
She shivered slightly as she stared out the port window. Somewhere
out there was Anakin. She had tried to contact him several times.
Each time, the Republic officer in charge, an Admiral Brandel,
had left a message saying Skywalker had declined the request.
Despite what Obi-Wan had told her, she couldn't bring herself
to truly believe Anakin had given himself to the darkside. She
would try again after she'd arrived on the planet.
"Enter," she said at the sound of a timid knock.
"Senator Naberrie, Ma'am," the Sullusti crewman snapped
to attention. "I'm here to assist you to your shuttle."
Amidala smiled. "Thanks." She stood slowly. She stopped
at the door and grabbed her cape. "Shall we?"
"Yes, Ma'am." The Sullusti picked up her two light bags.
A cold chill filled her as she followed.
Baryl glanced around quickly then ducked into the alleyway. Alderaan
Security and CorSec had done a reasonable job, but nothing in
their reports had prepared her for what Neimodia had become in
the past ten years. She'd been here years ago--when it had been
a thriving planet. Ten years of sanctions had ruined the economy.
She could see it in the cracking paint and in the voices of the
citizens. Tired anger at the Galactic Senate and humans in general.
She could also see it in the types of people who were on the planet.
She'd already recognized a number of smugglers who worked for
the various Hutt Cartels and other similar operations. The Trade
Federation had once avoided the Hutts, so this new interaction
worried her.
She glanced around, a typical alley found throughout the galaxy--smelly
and dark. This was where her contact, a former--way former, she
amended--CorSec operative had arranged to meet her.
"You were prompt," a voice said from the shadows.
"Just good manners," she replied. "Did you find
him?"
"Oh," the voice said, "I found him, but why should
I give it to you, CorSec?" She could hear his ire in his
pronunciation. A tall Neimodian slipped out from behind a trash
bin. His orange eyes flashed angrily at her.
"Because it is important." She didn't want to say more.
"It always is," the Neimodian said with a sarcastic
bow. "But how can a farmer be important?" He smiled
slightly. "I know who he was. A disgraced public officer
who had the bad luck to say the wrong thing to the wrong people."
He tossed her a small box. She in turn tossed him a bag of credit
chips. He grabbed the bag from the air and shrugged as he slipped
back into the shadows.
She quickly placed the box in her pocket with her left hand even
as her right hand reached for her blaster. "That was very
interesting," a dark threatening voice said. "What's
in that box?" She wasn't surprised to feel the end of a blaster
in her back.
"Nothing that would interest you," she said.
"I will be the judge of that," Her assailant growled.
She managed to turn her head to identify her assailant. "And
why would this interest a Rodian like yourself? She asked.
"Anything that interests CorSec, I find very interesting.
That was sloppy, you really should have back-up." He indicated
with a push of his blaster that she should move deeper into the
alley.
"What makes you think I don't?" She smiled slightly.
"I've been watching you. There was no one else." The
Rodian chuckled.
"Well, then you are even more sloppy," a voice said
from behind her. Baryl's smile grew as she recognized Obi-Wan's
voice. The Rodian turned quickly and fired. She turned almost
as fast, her blaster in her hand just in time to see Obi-Wan block
the shot with his saber, then slice into the would be thief. The
Rodian collapsed without a sound. "You all right?" He
asked as he knelt beside the body.
"Fine." She knelt beside him. "He's been following
me since we got here. I just don't know why." She glanced
around quickly. "We should hide the body." They didn't
have time to deal with the authorities.
Obi-Wan nodded slowly as he stood. "Five days just to try
to rob you?"
"Being CorSec doesn tend to attract attention...His boss
may have sent him." She pointed toward the trash bin. "Not
the greatest hiding place, but the smell may keep anyone but a
bonka from finding him for a few days." She glanced down
at the body--it was a mystery they could not take the time to
solve, but she suspected a connection to the attack on Kessel.
Obi-Wan nodded then motioned with his hands. The body floated
over and landed with an unceremonious thump in the trash. "I
didn't notice anyone else." He said quietly.
"Neither did I." She pulled the box out and opened it.
"Daultay Dofine. He has a small farm near the city of Felet.
Do you think he knows anything?"
"He was on the Viceroy's staff ten years ago," Obi-Wan
said. "He may..."
"I know," she said softly. "Why now?" He nodded.
It was too damn easy.
Anakin placed his fork on the tray and watched the newcomers.
Their orange uniforms stood out amongst the grays and blacks of
the Republic forces--more pilots from Naboo. There had been many
such new arrivals for the past several days. Through them he knew
that Amidala was on the planet and apparently all right. He was
desperate for news about her. For over three weeks he'd been stuck
on the edge of the Naboo system, leading patrols--of all the damn
useful things he could be doing. Brandel had denied his every
request for a day's leave on the planet. He slammed his fist against
the table. The others in the mess hall glanced his way, then quickly
went back to their conversations.
He took a sip of water as he wondered why Amidala had made no
attempt to contact him. He sat straighter, the glass tight in
his hand, as fragments of the conversation between the new Naboo
pilots and some of his own squadron reached his ears. Using the
Force he willed them to speak a little louder. He was surprised
to hear his wife's name. He closed his eyes and concentrated,
his frown deepened. They couldn't be saying what he thought they
were? He slipped into Loman's mind.
"Romance has a way of finding one even in moments of destruction,
or so I've heard." Lieutenant Loman frowned, as he rubbed
his forehead. "Your former queen and a Jedi." He spat
at the word.
The Naboo pilot frowned. "I wouldn't know about any romance."
The pilot picked up a bluish fruit. "Have you tried ice for
your head?"
Loman frowned at the change of subject. "Ice, and the sour-bark
powder the med-droids insist will help."
The Naboo pilot chuckled. "Med-droids leave a lot to be desired."
"Like your damn Jedi," Loman snarled as he squeezed
his eyes to block the light and the increasing pain.
The Naboo pilot leaned across the table. "I don't like your
attitude. The Jedi have been very loyal to the cause."
"Yea, right." Loman's voice was a sneer. "At look
at what's happening to your precious Alliance and your own world."
Anakin felt the Naboo pilot's doubt grow. He almost smiled at
what Loman's reaction might be if his second-in-command learned
Anakin was a Jedi too. The frown returned as Loman continued.
"Are you so sure that this Obi-Wan fellow is the type of
man you want for your queen? I've heard she's his mistress."
Anakin froze. Obi-Wan and Amidala? His master wouldn't? Amidala
couldn't have.
*Oh, but they would,* a now familiar presence said in his mind.
*The Jedi are not to be trusted. You must be better than the Jedi.
My young friend, she will be punished for her transgressions.*
"Punished?" Anakin whispered. *Please, she must be under
his influence. He's twisted her. Used the Force...*
The voice hissed. *Yes, the Force. Yet, he isn't here, and has
she asked to see you?*
*No.* Anakin said. *She couldn't...Didn't...She's my wife...*
There was a pause then he felt a ripple of surprise in the Force,
before the voice just said, *Punished she shall be.*
Anakin shattered the glass in his fist; unaware of the slivers
penetrating his skin, or the blood streaking from his hand. *Yes,
they must be punished.*
*Yes.* The voice faded away, leaving Anakin staring at the wall,
oblivious to the sound of laughter from the pilots.
"Sir?" A new voice said. "Sir?" Anakin shook
himself. "Do you need assistance?" The man was staring
at the blood pooling on the table.
"No.." He dropped what was left of the broken glass
on the tray, as he stood, ignoring the strange glances coming
from the other diners.
The kitchen attendant shrugged as he cleaned up the mess the commander
had left.
"General Bel Iblis," the lieutenant said. "There
is a message from Coronet City."
"Very well," Garm glanced at his staff and motioned
them to leave. Mon Mothma started to go, but he signaled for her
to remain.
"Are you sure?" She asked. He nodded as the head of
Counselor Woar Stym appeared on the screen.
"Counselor Stym, what is it?" Garm asked, a hint of
trepidation in his voice.
"Nothing is wrong. You've been recalled to Corellia for instructions
before retaking your seat in the Galactic Senate."
"What?" Garm said, his furor deepening his voice.
"I believe you understood your orders. Corellia is rejoining
the Republic effective immediately. All Corellian ships and crews
are to return to Corellia and will be used for system defense."
"You can't..."
"Senator Bel Iblis, the Diktat has made this decision in
the best interest of Corellia. Unless?" Stym raised an eyebrow--almost
daring Garm to resign.
"Yes, sir." Garm broke the switch as he shut the message
off. He glanced at the piece, then threw it at the wall. "They
can't do this."
Mon Mothma closed her eyes. "They have. You don't have much
choice. Stay or go..."
"I'll show them," he said as he walked toward the door.
"I'll give the orders to the fleet...but I'm staying."
"No. Garm you must go." She looked up toward the ceiling.
"The Alliance is breaking up. Naboo has left, now Corellia...I
hear Alderaan may too. Chandrila will follow. If...well, if our
suspicions are true, we'll be needed in the senate."
"I..." He stared at his hands as he clenched and unclenched
his fists. He took a deep breath full of resignation. "They
are all bloody idiots."
"Yes, they are." Mon Mothma smiled at him. "Maybe
your voice will prevent a disaster in the Senate. If you hurry,
you can be reinstated before the debate is over."
Garm brightened at that. "I'll leave within six hours."
He started to open communications and shrugged. He'd broken the
switch. "I'll notify the Corellian fleet commanders. Tell
Bail I'm sorry."
"I'll tell him that Corellia has rejoined the Republic, I
will not tell him you are sorry. We'll miss you, but you can do
as much--if not more--good there than here." She held out
her hand in Chandrilan fashion. "Good-luck, Garm. May the
Force be with you."
"And you." He took her hand. "There are other ways
I can help too."
"Just use caution. We need you alive--" she stood straighter
as she spoke. "--because someday we will unite our forces
again, and bring the coming madness to an end." He saluted
her, then turned to leave. Somehow, he suspected that someday
was far away.
Amidala stood next to the large stone statue. It was one of those
things she decided. The statue survived, but the surrounding area
had been ravaged. She ran her hands over the base as she remembered
this place. Here was where she had rallied her people and made
lasting friends with the Gungan. There was now nothing she recognized,
except a barren hill and the statue. She noticed Jar-Jar watching
her from the command tent. She'd never thought it was possible
for a Gungan to look so depressed. Through thick and thin, Jar-Jar
had managed to bring a smile to her face Now, she didn't have
it in her to try to cheer him up. She glanced toward the brownish
body of water off in the distance. Once there had been a thriving
civilization nearby. She wiped her eyes as she remembered her
only visit to Otoh Gunga: how like stars against the dark water
it had seemed. Now nothing remained.
Nothing but those damned mysterious statues. Statues so old no
one knew what they were or where they came from. The Gungan considered
them good luck. Some luck, she grumbled to herself.
A deep roar startled her, then caused her to smile. The engines
to the second water purification plant had been activated. Things
were looking up. She allowed herself a small smile as she listened
to the steady rumblings of the engine.
Bail closed his eyes and mentally ran down the list of ships that
remained with the Alliance. He took a deep breath. Mon Mothma
was correct in her assessment. The lack of the almost two-hundred
Corellian capital ships was devastating. And that number didn't
include fighters, shuttles, and supply ships. It was almost half
their fleet. "It's not enough."
Mon Mothma nodded. "That's what I got. It's no where near
enough."
"I can't believe they would do this to us...I wonder what
the Republic promised?"
"Or threatened. Corellian economics is based on interstellar
trade. Legal and otherwise." They both chuckled at the old
joke.
"The Republic wants to run a joint operation," Bail
said. "Supreme Chancellor Palpatine made the request...It
seemed genuine." He studied her controlled response and decided
it was too controlled.
"I see. From a man poised to become Emperor." She let
the sentence hang.
"I heard. It didn't make an impression on the Naboo. They
are too worried about their own problems."
She nodded. "Interesting isn't it? The timing, I mean."
"Scary is a better word." The timing of four incredibly
vicious clone attacks had to be more than coincidence. "Well?"
"I told Garm that our voices will be even more important
in the Galactic Senate in the coming days and years. We have to
be seen as willing to put aside our differences and fight the
clones together. No matter how much we hate the idea--or what
we suspect."
"It's not inevitable. The Senate hasn't voted yet."
"No they haven't. And with Garm there, perhaps it will not
happen."
"Perhaps Colonel Arasta and her team will find the answers."
Too many perhaps, he thought angrily. They had very carefully
avoided reminding anybody of their Corellian agent in the field.
She would have been promptly recalled. Despite the Diktat's decision,
many Corellians were still cooperating with the Alliance, including
members of CorSec and Garm himself.
"Perhaps." Mon Mothma's tone paralleled his own darkening
mood. She sat on the table and crossed her arms. "We'll cooperate
with the Republic forces." He nodded. At this moment, they
were in no position to oppose the Republic and Palpatine.
"I'll arrange it. Garm would be the logical choice to serve
as an intermediary."
"Agreed." There was a long silence. "I don't know
what you know or suspect..." Mon Mothma stared at him, her
words barely above a whisper. "But is there any chance we're
wrong?"
"I hope so." The words didn't sound as hopeful as he'd
tried to make them.
Obi-Wan studied the Dofine farm as the trio marched toward the
small residence. He reached out and ran his hand along a large
leaf of some fruit tree they passed under.
"The fruit is pretty good," Baryl said. "Since
the sanctions impossible to get though." She looked around.
"He doesn't seem to have done too badly." The farm was
well kept and fairly clean.
Obi-Wan and Mace also studied their surroundings. Obi-Wan noticed
some scattered toys and what looked like a swing. "Looks
like he has a family too." They stopped as they noticed a
Neimodian standing in the doorway staring at them. Obi-Wan sensed
a moment of fear and recognition. They'd come to the right place.
The Neimodian had recognized him.
"Hello," he said as he took five steps forward. Daultay
Dofine glared at him.
"What are you doing here, Jedi?"
"You have a good memory. I hope you can help us?"
"Why? Because of you, my world was devastated." Obi-Wan
just stared at him. The Neimodian shrugged. "Well, maybe
not because of you," he finally admitted. "Why are you
here?"
"Ten years ago..." He moved forward until he stood a
meter from the Neimodian. The others followed.
"Naboo. I see. Viceroy Gunray was an idiot, but he believed
the promises of Lord Sidious." He spat the name even harder
than he had the word Jedi.
"What promises," Obi-Wan asked.
"That the senate would not interfere, that the queen would
sign the treaty. He promised us that he would make sure the senate
would not become involved. He lied to us." The anger in the
Neimodian's words dissipated as he spoke. The last sentence was
spoken in resignation.
Obi-Wan smiled slightly. "He had influence in the senate?"
"So he claimed. Look what it got us. Sanctions, a economic
depression...and a government willing to deal with Hutts."
Dofine relaxed slightly. "Ten years ago I had a future within
the Trade Federation. I served on the Viceroy's staff. I even
had political ambitions--now I worry about crop prices, and the
fact I can barely afford to send my sons to school." He looked
out toward his orchard.
"You were lucky, though."
"More than you know, Jedi." Dofine closed his eyes.
"When your ship arrived ten years ago, I argued that we should
abandon the blockade. This did not please Lord Sidious. Gunray
sent me home in disgrace. If he had been victorious, I would probably
be dead."
Obi-Wan glanced at his companions, then back at Dofine. "Why
did the Trade Federation go along with Lord Sidious?"
Dofine grimaced. "Gunray was greedy...And because of Tre
l'tor and a groundquake."
"A groundquake?" Baryl asked with a movement of her
hands that indicated her puzzlement. Obi-Wan felt just as confused.
Dofine nodded. "Once the Trade Federation had been an honorable
organization. No smugglers, no slaves, and definitely no Hutts.
Then came the Dark One and Tre l'tor." He silently stared
at Obi-Wan, before continuing. "Nute Gunray wasn't viceroy
then. I wasn't there."
"We understand, " Obi-Wan said quietly. "What happened?"
He sent reassurances through the Force. Dofine relaxed some more.
"About thirty years ago, Gunray gave the land at Tre l'tor
to the First Dark One in exchange for power. No one who asked
what was happening there lived to find out." Dofine laughed
nastily. "Gunray got power, but look what it got him."
Obi-Wan glanced at Mace. The older man nodded imperceptibly. The
First Dark One--a Sith Lord.
Dofine shook his head. "Gunray was responsible for the ruination
of my world. Maybe not ruined in the same way as the clones do."
He shivered. "And a Sith Lord's promises corrupted him. You
want to know more about the Sith Lord?" He didn't wait for
acknowledgment. "Fifteen years ago, Tre l'tor was destroyed
by a massive groundquake. We discovered several dozen sick and
confused humans and other aliens wandering near the ruins. I was
on Gunray's staff by then. It was obvious that Tre l'tor had been
some sort of research facility, and we were terrified that the
Republic would find out. Gunray arranged to send them away--it
was only later that we learned he'd sold them into slavery."
Dofine looked down at his feet. "By then it was too late.
A new Sith Lord, Sidious, contacted Gunray. To keep so many secrets,
we were willing to do almost anything."
"And Tre l'tor?" Baryl asked.
"Gone. Lord Sidious ordered us to destroy it completely."
Dofine's eyes narrowed more. "Gunray became Viceroy soon
afterwards. The Trade Federation became more aggressive and successful.
Then came Naboo." Dofine's voice was bitter and sad. "It
ruined us."
"And Sidious?" Baryl's voice was low and equally sad.
"Vanished. We were no longer useful. The senate under their
new Supreme Chancellor was brutal. Sanctions, reparations...What
deal did Palpatine make with Sidious?" The three humans were
startled. Dofine smiled at that. "He's going to become Emperor."
"Emperor?" Mace said.
"We've not seen anything," Baryl added. "How do
you know?"
"I'm not as out of touch as you would like to believe. I
still have contacts out there." Obi-Wan's face was not the
complete mask of emotions as he wished. He was not able to keep
the surprise and horror out of his expression. Mace was the only
one who managed to control his surprise--but Obi-Wan sensed the
master's terror, surprise...and strangely, resignation.
"Thank-you," Baryl said. "You've been very helpful."
She glanced at Obi-Wan. They started to leave. "Oh,"
she said as she turned to face Dofine. "Have you ever heard
of Spaarti?"
Dofine shook his head. "No. My family will becoming soon--and
I'd rather not tell them anything." Obi-Wan thanked him again.
Fifteen years ago, Anakin would have been about three. He sensed
similar thoughts in his companions--but their dominating thought
was Palpatine. The six kilometer trip back to their ship was completed
in silence.
"Emperor," Baryl said. Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around
her. Mace quietly faced the mountains, his face a complete blank.
Obi-Wan let his thoughts wander as he held her. Three people had
connected Anakin to the light. Shmi was dead. Amidala and he were
next.
No, he realized. There would be no assassin lurking in the dark
waiting for him. As Anakin's last test, Palpatine would arrange
a final confrontation. The invitation to be there had been sent.
He glanced at Mace. He felt Mace's affirmative response. He pulled
the woman in his arms tighter against him.
They had to go to Spaarti.
Bail smiled as he watched the holo-vid his wife had sent. It was
press interview with Doctor Ettyk, confirming the rumors that
Princess Kalla Organa was pregnant. The ruse seemed to be working.
The doctor was convincing in his telling of her problems with
the pregnancy and her need to remain in seclusion. Bail leaned
back and put his feet up on his desk. Very few people knew that
Kalla wasn't pregnant--and even fewer knew about Amidala. And
he would keep it that way. Amidala hadn't said much about her
husband; but if he was correct, her secret made their position
as surrogate parents a very dangerous one. The holo-vid ended.
"Congratulations, Bail," Mon Mothma said. "Now
that it's official." She sat down across from him. "But
you don't look particularly happy."
He took a deep breath that he released slowly. "It seems
unfair to bring a daughter into the world now."
She smiled. "Perhaps by the time she is old enough to care,
we will have improved things."
"I hope so," Bail said quietly. His thoughts were on
Alderaan: with his wife and with Amidala.
Palpatine smiled. The senate debates were going well, despite
some minor opposition to the many petitions to name him Emperor.
That Garm Bel Iblis was opposed, did not dismay him. The Corellian
decision to rejoin the Republic was not a surprise--the timing
could have been better though. But it wasn't important. Garm could
be neutralized. He would use Garm to destroy the Independent Alliance,
a bit of irony that pleased Palpatine. The leaders were too stubborn
to willingly come back to the senate. And until the resolution
passed, he didn't want them there.
Like always, the solution was simple for a Sith. He had offered
Bail Organa command of a joint task force for a major offensive
against the clones. With Garm Bel Iblis serving as the Galactic
Republic liaison, the Corellian senator wouldn't have time to
interfere in the senate. The few nuisance adjoiners Garm had managed
to add were of no consequence. Palpatine was, after all, a patient
man. And Organa was now effectively trapped in the web and had
no choice but to agree to the request. It was agree or be seen
as being jealous and power hungry.
The goal was in sight. The revenge the Sith had dreamed of for
a millennia would soon happen: complete domination of the galaxy,
and the total destruction of the Jedi.
Amidala sat on the hillside, far from the refugee camp she studied.
Her one visit there had been too overwhelming. The refugees were
vivid proof of what the future held for the rest of the galaxy.
She chose instead to sit on the hill and watch what her people
had become. Living in tents and squalor, surviving on the generosity
of the member systems of the Alliance and the Republic. Her mission
here was complete, and she would be leaving very soon. The Alderaan
engineers had installed twenty water purifying plants. This refugee
camp had been one of the first to benefit from the clean water.
She wiped her eyes.
Many would be leaving soon. A large convoy of ships had been put
together to carry those refugees who wanted to leave for other
worlds. Thousands were leaving. She didn't blame them for wanting
to go, but it hurt so much anyway. And what hurt the most was
she was leaving soon--probably never to see her world or people
again. She turned her head at the sound of footsteps. "I'm
ready, Jar-Jar."
"Jedi will be pleased." He held out his hand and helped
her to her feet. "Themsa not pleased that you wander away.
Meesa also worry about the babies."
"We'll be fine." She tried to reassure him with her
smile. "Please, remember me?"
Jar-Jar smiled. "Meesa will remember yousa. Yousa are meesa's
bombad friend."
"And you are my friend." She hugged him. Jar-Jar shrugged
slightly, but his smile was contagious.
"Meesa glad." He retook her hand. "Usan must go."
Go to chapter 7 of A
Lost Hope
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