The convoy halted at dusk. Tarpals felt there was no point in stopping before that; they had enough supplies, so foraging was unnecessary, and once the sun set, there was less of a chance of them being spotted from orbit.

Brandes had taught a couple of the Gungans the basics of steering; as she stretched her legs by walking up and down the aisles of the transport, she reflected that neither of them would be hired as professional drivers, but they'd be able to maneuver the transport in a pinch. For their part, the Gungans had seemed surprised that the transport didn't move in an upward direction as well forward, backward, left and right. One of them had finally muttered something about the transport not being a "bon-gho", and the other had nodded.

Everyone else had spent most of their time looking out the windows, watching for signs of pursuit. The children, both human and Gungan, had amused themselves playing simple guessing games or learning the Gungan sign language from Sen Tal. Zanté had spent much of the trip huddled next to Kimma, but no longer seemed on the verge of panic.

Once they had halted, everyone ate, Tarpals turned out his sentries, and the group settled in for the night. Realizing that this would most likely be their last evening together, both humans and Gungans sat in the meadow near the transport to share a meal of dried food and chat in the rapidly dimming light.

"I've been meaning to ask you something, Orrin," Brandes said. The rider politely tilted her head away so she could hear better. "Vlenka mentioned the first rule of the Third Patrol was 'When the captain gives an order, you follow it'. What's the second rule?"

"Simple," Orrin responded. "Secont rule iss, 'da captain may not allus be right, but hesa –'"

"'Allus the captain'," chorused the entire contingent of the Third Mount Patrol. Tarpals shot them all a long-suffering look. Saché, Yané, and Brandes laughed.

"We'll have to tell that one to Captain Panaka," Yané remarked.

"Let's not," Saché suggested. "He might actually adopt it."

Standing among the riding animals outside the circle of vehicles, Herns finished brushing the falumpaset's flank and passed the bristle under the animal's belly to Melni, who took up brushing one of the legs. "Inna morning, wesa gonna wanna check hiss'n feet," he remarked.

"Was he limping?" asked Melni.

"No, but iss allus a good idee to check da h'animal's feet afore yousa ride hims."

"Oh." Melni worked in silence for a moment, then remarked, "You know, you're really pretty nice when you're not being mean to people."

Herns snorted. "My suppose dat's a compliment." He was rolling up the falumpaset's reins before tying them up where the animal wouldn't step on them during the night.

"Why don't you like humans?"

"Few times mesa hedd anyt'ing to do wit' da Naaboo wuss wit' tradin'. Lott'n time, da Naaboo wantin' to cheat ussan, get more'n deysa paid for. Deysa t'ink wesa stoopit, liken wesa don' unnerstand how baluable t'ings iss."

"Well, it's true that was wrong. But we're not all like that."

Herns was silent. "Once yousa been bit by some-att, yousa learn to either leave it 'lone or bite it fust," he said finally. "But mebbe when diss'n all over, wesa all gett'n chance to start over 'gain, eh?"

Melni grinned. "Sure. Maybe you could start before that, by talking to Arlan and Edvic."

"Mebbe." Melni thought Herns sounded hesitant, but she couldn't very well force him to go apologize. He jiggled the bridle he was carrying. "Wesa stow diss'n an' go bekk to camp, yiss?"

"Okay," said Melni, and she took the bridle, patted the falumpaset on the flank, and walked with Herns toward the transport.


~*~*~*~*~

Arlan yawned, then curled up against Tarpals's leg, pillowing his head in the Gungan's lap. Tarpals sensed Brandes reaching for the boy. "Arlan...."

"No. Leave hims. Hesa fine." The Gungan hesitated, and then carefully rested his hand on the boy's back as a reassuring gesture.

"If he's bothering you –"

"No bother. Hesa don' weight much."

Brandes smiled, although she doubted even Tarpals's eyes could see that in the darkness. "I know this is a personal question, Captain, but do you have children?"

"My clan fam'ly hass little'uns, but my've never Tekken one In," Tarpals answered.

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

Tarpals thought for a moment. "When the sprattlings are hatched, theysa divided up 'mong the Clans. Each clan 'ccepts certain number of sprattlings. In each Clan, theysa fam'lies. Many times, fam'lies Tekk In—" here Tarpals emphasized his words "— sprattlings. Liken Nril fam'ly. The sprattlings whosa don' hev fam'lies still hev a Clan. Clan tekks care of them, feeds them, teaches them. All'n the 'dults tekk turns wit' them."

"So it's like having a huge, extended family?" Brandes suggested.

"Yiss, some-att liken that."

There was a pause. "We thought that perhaps Rell Iss was your son."

"Sssson?"

"Yes. Temmis and Plirri would be Kimma's and Sen Tal's and Hanar's sons. They're the male children of a family."

"Uh." The Gungan considered that. "No. Rell Iss, hesa from 'nother Clan, already gott'n fam'ly, liken Nrils." There were no true orphans among the Gungans, but not every child grew up in a close-knit family situation like Temmis and Plirri would. "Hesa caadrey," Tarpals continued. "Hesa works for ussan off'cers, learnin' message notes, carryin' orders, runnin' errands, that'n sort of thing. Iff'n hesa stays inna h'army, hesa pro'lly mekk officer some day."

"And he's a volunteer?"

"Course'n. All'n oursan sprattlings, theysa start tekkin' trainin' atta certain h'age. Temmis, hesa almost old enough. Theysa learn simple commands, what ever'thing's called. Iff'n theysa show 'nough promise, wesa encourage thems to think 'bout servin' full time. Iff'n not, theysa still kipp trainin' every few seasons, chust to kipp the skills fresh, liken the militiagungs." Tarpals paused. "Most'n the Naaboo sprattlings, theysa old 'nough to tekk the trainin', too. At th'end of trainin', wesa would 'ward thems with liddle carved disks – theysa wear them or hang them inna homes. Don't hev any with ussan, my'm afraid."

Brandes managed a laugh. "It's all right, Captain – the fact that we've survived this long is reward enough. I have to confess, when your command first rescued us, I wasn't sure what to expect – I just thought it couldn't be any worse than being prisoners of the Trade Federation. Now I'm very, very grateful for your help – all of you. If we can't get to Tendesay, I'm willing to go wherever your people are willing to take us. You're civilized beings, no matter how different we are." She finally reached over to lift Arlan. "And speaking of Tendesay, we should probably all get some sleep so we'll be ready to start in the morning."

Tarpals put a hand on her wrist. "Leave hims. Hesa wantin' to sleep out'nside, thiss'n a good night for it. My will watch him."

"That's very kind of you, Captain. Thank you. For everything."


~*~*~*~*~


Late morning found them traveling uphill through fields of tall grass dotted by copses of trees. They were, Tarpals thought, traveling smoothly, and would reach Tendesay by mid-afternoon. In some respects, they had been extremely fortunate – there seemed to be no pursuit by the maccaneeks after their vehicles had been stolen. Tarpals found the thought puzzling, and more than a little suspicious.

The tank's front hatch was open, giving them all a limited view of the countryside before them. Yané had the camera on and was scanning the area with it; unfortunately, the camera didn't tilt up very well, whether because it hadn't been designed to do so or because it had been damaged in battle, they couldn't tell. Peskis sat in the gunner's seat, and Rell Iss, message horn slung over his back, rode standing in the rear door, ready to relay commands.

The second tank glided along to their right; Tarpals had assigned Saché, Orrin, and Drind to ride in that one, with the Naaboo driving. Vlenka rode in the transport, along with the rest of the Patrol members and the Naaboo.

Something rumbled, and for a moment Tarpals wondered if there were a problem with the tank itself. Yané must have thought so as well, because she scanned the instrument console. "Somebody else heard that, right?" she asked.

"Yiss."

"Everything seems to be working," the young woman remarked. "So it wasn't us—"

This time there was a staccato burst of high-pitched pings. A second rumble followed; Tarpals identified it as an explosion.

"Are we under attack?" asked Rell Iss, poking his head out the door and peering around.

"Too far away," Tarpals remarked. "But there's a battle nearby."

Yané began tapping buttons on the instrument panels. "I'm reading more tanks, in front of us."

"A'tween ussan and Tendesay," Peskis said.

"Theysa pro'lly not shootin' at each other," Tarpals said, "so iss'n likely a group of Naaboo at Tendesay."

A mechanical voice squawked from the audio panel at Yané's elbow. "Armored Assault Tanks 142 and 212, you are registered on scope as being within range of the battle in sector nine. Confirm."

Yané and both Gungans jumped in surprise. "I – I think that's us. Um...." She studied the panel. "If I answer it, it'll know we're not droids – they all have male voices."

"My kenn do it," Peskis suggested.

"With that accent?" she exclaimed.

"Yousa feed mesa words, my'll talk. Yousa see."

"Do thiss'n," Tarpals ordered.

"Okay," Yané muttered. She turned back to Peskis. "Tell him 'Confirmed'."

The Ankuran Gungan leaned forward to speak into the panel. "Conn-firmed."

"Your orders are to proceed to the center of sector nine and reinforce us. We have engaged a group of Naboo non-cooperatives. Confirm."

"Conn-firmed," Peskis repeated.

"What is your ETA?"

Both Gungans peered at Yané. "Estimated time of arrival," she explained. Both Gungans still wore puzzled expressions. "They want to know how long it will take for us to join them," she continued.

"What would be a reasonable an-sah?" Tarpals asked.

Yané considered. "I'd suggest at least ten minutes," she replied.

Tarpals nodded. "Tell them that."

Peskis leaned forward, and Yané pressed the "reply" button. "Eee Tee Ay iz ten min-utes," he said slowly, with as little inflection as possible.

"Acknowledged," the droid voice said, and the comm line was silent.

"Halt ussan," Tarpals said. Yané pressed the brake.

"So now what?" she asked, twisting in the seat to face Tarpals.

The Gungan cocked his head. "Yousa heard hiss'n," he replied. "Wesa been ordered into battle. Yousa know the fust rule."

"When the Captain gives an order, you follow it," Yané said. "But this was an order from the droid – the maccaneek commander."

Tarpals's lips suddenly pulled back from his teeth in what might have been a smile, if it hadn't been quite so predatory. The orange-yellow eyes narrowed and gleamed. "Doesn' matter. Wesa been ordered into battle – wesa goin' into battle."

Twelve minutes later a pair of assault tanks topped the hill and glided into position behind the half dozen of their fellows. The unit had what appeared to be a group of humans pinned down in a copse of trees. A handful of buildings were scattered on the hillside on the other side of the copse – the outskirts of the town of Tendesay. Using the trees as shields, the humans had brought up several of the flat, oval-shaped vehicles called "speeders"; mounted on the back of each speeder was a mid-sized blaster cannon, and the humans were returning the droid fire. The shots were successful against the droids and their STAPs, despite the flying platforms' speed. However, the large tanks were proving to be more of a challenge, and the tide of the battle had turned against the human defenders even before the appearance of Armored Assault Tanks 142 and 212.

Tank cannons thundered. There was an answering hail of smaller munitions fire from a series of speeder guns. Several droids fell, but the tanks continued forward.

Sergeant Territ Berendar eyed the Trade Federation reinforcements that had just topped the hill, and his mouth tightened. "Prepare to fall back," he ordered his command. "There are just too many for the weapons we have." Emboldened by the appearance of two more of their assault vehicles, three of the tanks were already moving forward – when the guns of the two new arrivals opened fire, directly into the exposed and undershielded rear entrance hatches of the Trade Federation's tanks.

The two tanks shuddered; metal exploded and smoke rolled up from cracked hulls. One of the attacking tanks continued to pour fire into the wreckage as the second targeted another assault vehicle and opened fire. The blaster bursts pelted the side of the tank as the guns tracked to the rear of the tank, searing the outer hull of the vehicle and the two droids clinging to the handholds. Energy lightning flickered over the metal as the electrical systems within overloaded. The tank jerked to a halt and listed to one side.

The remaining three tanks in the original unit turned, cannon turrets swiveling to target the surprise attackers. A series of sustained notes suddenly echoed through the hills, and the remainder of Tarpals's command swept past the two armored assault tanks and into battle.

The Gungan riders immediately scattered, offering the Trade Federation tanks no clear targets. Within moments, the riders were among the tanks themselves, requiring the droids to either cease their fire or risk blowing each other's vehicles up. The side handholds that served droids riding on the outside of the tanks also worked for riders who swung themselves aboard the assault vehicles. Two hatches suddenly popped open and droids appeared, ready to shoot the boarders – entirely the wrong move, as the Gungans happily pelted one with hand-held buumas and a rider grabbed the other droid by the neck and yanked it out of the hatch. Pieces of maccaneeks flew.

But laser canons weren't the Trade Federation's only weapons. Even as Yané targeted another tank, their own vehicle rocked violently, pitching the riders against control panels and seat backs. The tank shuddered to a halt.

"What'n wass that?" Tarpals demanded, picking himself up off the floor.

Yané coughed and gasped; smoke was pouring out of the consoles around her. "I think – I think they used – a missile or bomb of some sort!" The tank rocked again, and the armor around the front hatched cracked.

"T'inkin' iss good idee to go, Kippton!" Peskis called as he came sliding down the stair rails. "Deysa nothin' workin' uppa dere!"

"Ever'one out!" Tarpals commanded, and the group spilled into the grass, abandoning the tank.

All three of the Gungans called for their mounts as they crouched under the inadequate shelter of the rear hatchway. For the most part, however, the droids on the STAPs were ignoring them, zooming past and over the hill.

"Captain!" Peskis began.

"The traans-port!" Tarpals agreed.


~*~*~*~*~



Vlenka and most of the militiagungs had scrambled out of the transport and set up a ring of hand-held shields—effective enough against the droid blasters, and even the lasers aboard the flying STAPs. For the moment, the two groups were at a standoff.

Brandes crouched with several of the children among the transport seats. They were safe for the moment, but with the Gungans outside, Brandes couldn't move the transport without leaving them. The militiagungs fought with a combination of their own unique energy weapons and maccaneek blasters. They had no way of knowing what had happened to the two assault tanks. At any moment, the Trade Federation forces could top the hill and attack.

Brandes had to shout to make herself heard. "If the Gungans weren't outside, we might be able to circle the outskirts of Tendesay and come in from a different direction!"

"I don't know if that would work or not!" Edvic shouted back. "We don't know where the Trade Federation tanks are or what else is in the area! What we really need are a couple of good fighter pilots and ships!" He threw a glance at the rear of the transport. "Or the next best thing!" The teen scrambled to his feet and scuttled down the aisle to the rear door. Throwing it open, he levered the STAP off the floor, started the engine, and zoomed, a little unsteadily, out into the field. The vehicle finally made a somewhat shaky turn and headed toward the fighting.

Edvic clutched the handgrips, his teeth clenched in concentration. It was one thing to ride a STAP, another altogether to ride and shoot straight at the same time. The human's aim was marginal at best, and several of the droids turned their own STAPs in Edvic's direction and began firing.

The militiagungs took advantage of the moment to focus their fire on the droids' backs; even so, Edvic reflexively threw himself backward off the STAP and into the grass.

As the droids zoomed forward, a hail of buumas showered them from the top of the hill – Tarpals's remaining troops had arrived to support their human comrades. Rell Iss's message horn sounded from behind his commanding officer, and the militiagungs suddenly split up and engaged the droids in one-on-one combat.

Kimma Nril rolled off the seat on which she had been lying and was stumbling out the back door of the transport in a crouching run, blaster in hand. Plirri, seeing his maatra moving, scampered after her. Temmis caught the movement and turned. "Plirri! Come back here!"

Zanté was crouched under a seat near the rear of the transport; she raised her head in time to see Temmis pelt out the door after his younger sibling. The human girl opened her mouth, shoulders heaving, as though trying to call out to Sen Tal or Hanar or anyone else that both young Gungans were in danger. No sound emerged. She crawled to the edge of the door and peered at the battle raging around the transport.

Temmis had caught Plirri before he could follow Kimma far; both youngsters were wrestling, Temmis's arms around Plirri's chest as he tried to pick up the younger Gungan and drag him back to the transport.

Zanté exhaled sharply, but she was still calling silently. Blaster bolts chewed up the ground and exploded metal around them. Gungans and maccaneeks grappled hand-to-hand, the moving STAPs tracking running militiagungs.

With no one inside the transport looking in her direction, Zanté tumbled out into the grass and ran, crouching, to where Temmis and Plirri knelt behind the wreckage of a droid and its STAP. The shelter was only relative, however, with the battle raging around them. Temmis looked up. "Heah, he'p mesa wit' hims!" He had Plirri by the arm. Zanté grabbed the Gungan's other elbow, and the two began a staggering trot back to the transport. Plirri squealed and wriggled. "Maatra! Maatra!"

"Quiet!" Temmis insisted.

Zanté suddenly jerked to a halt, hands still clutching Plirri's elbow. One of the droids had approached on foot, blaster in hand. It moved between them and the transport, and lowered its weapon at the human girl.

"You," the droid said, gesturing at her with the gun. "Hands up. You will surrender at once."

Zanté stared, frozen in place, gasping. A droid just like this one had done the same thing in her home village at the beginning of the invasion. The only difference was that this time, her parents were gone.

"Yousa leaven dem 'lone!" Temmis squealed, slapping both palms against the droid's leg and throwing his weight against it. The droid staggered sideways a step, and then whipped its weapon down in a blow against the Gungan's face. Temmis collapsed in a heap.

Zanté ran across the droid's line of fire, dragging Plirri with her. Dropping to her knees she gathered Temmis up into her arms, angling her body between him and the droid's weapon.

Hands up!" the droid said in its monotone voice. Zanté buried her face in one of the Gungan's ears, then turned and scowled up at the droid. Plirri was wailing as he clutched a fold of the human's clothes.

"Hands up, or I will shoot," the droid warned her. Zanté hunched down and held Temmis closer.

The droid's arm moved into a firing position.

An electropole's tip speared the droid's back, driving all the way through the chest plate, and Kimma Nril used the pole to lever the droid into the air and over her shoulder. The droid sparked and jerked, then went still. The Gungan stood over the three children, her teeth bared and haillu raised in challenge.


~*~*~*~*~

Saché and her companions were flung against the control panels as the assault tank lurched under continuous fire from the three closing vehicles. "Time to abandon ship," she gasped as the panel sparked and its lights flickered.

Drind sprang from her chair and slapped the control panel that opened the rear door. Orrin swung down from the gunnery position. The floor of the tank heaved under her feet as the vehicle took fire. Saché swiveled her chair and stumbled to her feet; the panel behind her overloaded. The seat shielded her from most of the blast. Orrin snagged the front of the human's shirt and yanked; both of them sprawled on the floor. The rear hatch had only opened partway before the electrical system had been disrupted. Drind was crawling out the opening, calling for assistance. Orrin dragged Saché across the floor and shoved her toward the opening. "Go! Hurry!"

The human wriggled out of the opening and in the middle of a charge. Gungans were scrambling everywhere – some were firing at the oncoming droids, giving their companions time to mount their kaadu. Smoke from the damaged vehicles drifted over the battlefield. Saché had just time for a brief glimpse at the confusion around here when Drind reached forward and seized the front of her tunic. The Gungan swung her in a circle. She caught the hissing explosion of blaster fire and the grass where she had been standing burst into flames. Drind threw herself on top of her; the Gungan's body jerked in her arms, and bore her to the ground. Saché struggled out from under her. One glance told her the militiagung would never move again – no one could survive the wounds on her back. Gasping, Saché staggered to one side, and found herself staring up the barrels of the STAP laser canons that had killed her companion.

"Halt!" the droid began, but never finished. Over its shoulder, Saché saw the barrels of the first of the assault vehicles top the hill. At the same moment, the top hatch of the tank she had abandoned popped open, and Orrin clambered out onto the lip of the opening.

"Orrin!" Saché cried in warning. The Gungan completely ignored the oncoming vehicles and, with a cry of rage, flung herself from the top of the tank where she had been crouching and slammed into the droid. The approaching assault tank opened fire, shattering the outer casing of their abandoned vehicle. Smoke poured out of the hulk, obscuring everything in Saché's view.