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Interestingly, the astromech, which had been in the midst of the pack of veiled individuals, maneuvered to be in front of one of the Hapans, and the protocol droid tottered to stand behind the same woman, its metal-plate hands up in a placating gesture, its voice dimly audible in a wail of unease. The woman the astromech had moved to protect turned and offered the protocol droid a few words—of reassurance, if her accompanying gesture was any indication. When she gestured, she was careful not to let her robe gape open too widely, and Dei had no opportunity to observe her left arm.

The Klatooinian child advanced toward them all, speaking in the half-growling, half-barking language of his kind, gesturing angrily at the woman lying atop his ball. He ignored the angry calls and words being directed at him by the other players.

Several members of the Solo–Hapan party laughed. Others, still on high alert, didn’t. The woman on the sand rose from atop the ball, her body language a bit sheepish, and kicked the ball so it rolled back to the boy. The boy retrieved it and ran back to his fellows, no longer aggressive, then handed it to the Twi’lek he’d shoved.

The situation resolved, several members of the party continued on into the big tent. Others moved to take up guard positions around the site.

The droids in particular interested Dei. The astromech had clearly moved to protect one of the Hapans. Why had it not moved to protect the Solos, its owners? Probably simply because it was farther from the Solos than the Hapan woman. It clearly had some regard for her survival. Odds were high that the woman it had sought to shield was Tenel Ka Djo, a personal friend of the Solos. This suggested an unusual assertiveness and courage on the part of the droid, but it was clearly not programmed for tactical thinking, else it would not have betrayed the identity of Tenel Ka in that fashion.

Tenel Ka’s concern for the protocol droid was another point of interest. Droids that cared about a Hapan queen, a Hapan queen who cared about droids. The seed of a plan began to sprout in Dei’s mind.

He lingered at the tent, bought another chilled drink. The ball game continued for a time, until its members began to drift off toward other diversions. At last, the only one left was the boy who had thrown the ball toward the Hapans.

Now, tossing it from hand to hand, he missed catching it and it rolled toward Dei. Dei trapped it with his foot, rolled it atop his boot, and bounced it up into his hand. When the boy approached, Dei returned it to him—the ball and, inconspicuously, a few high-value credcoins. He gave the Klatooinian boy an approving little nod. “Well done. I will contact you if I need you again.”

The boy bared teeth in a fierce Klatooinian smile and left.

Allana stared up at the much taller figure beside her. In addition to answering questions, Javon was turning out to be useful at blocking out the sun. “How much time do we have?”

Javon checked his chrono. “See-Threepio will be back at the Falcon for your next lesson in forty-three minutes, thirty seconds—mark!”

She laughed. He’d gotten in the habit of giving all times down to the minute and second, with exaggerated importance, as if it were crucial to know the split second when the tent selling the little berry pies would have the next batch ready.

Today Allana’s guards were all in desert dress. Without the droids to make them more conspicuous, Javon had decided that everyone assigned to Allana should blend in with the crowds. Another one of his tactics; consistency of appearance, he’d told Allana, could make it easier for opponents to recognize and monitor her and her security detail.

Today Allana led the way in another sightseeing tour of the camp. There really wasn’t that much of interest to an eight-year-old, but getting out and meandering was certainly better than remaining cooped up in the Falcon, waiting to do more studying.

It was at the midpoint of the camp, where an open field had become the center of argument, debate, and