"What's the possibility that has to concern Master Doriana the most?"

Tories asked rhetorically. "Answer: that the Separatists will find out about this and move in to stop it."

"Okay," Corf agreed, frowning. "So?"

"So all we have to do is convince him that four weeks will be pushing his luck," Tories said, frowning in turn. The comlink seemed to be taking an unusually long time to connect. "Because if the Separatists do figure it out, Spaarti is lost to him forever. Dooku's people will blockade Cartao, and that'll be the end of it."

Corf made a face. "Yuck."

"Yuck, indeed," Tories agreed. "If, on the other hand, Doriana takes this in small bites, sneaking his people in for just a few days at a time, he may be able to keep the whole process going indefinitely."

"You mean he'd be taking over the plant once every month or so?" Corf asked doubtfully. "Boy. I don't think Dad'll go for that."

"He will if it comes to a choice between Doriana's annoyances and a Separatist blockade," Tories said, turning the comlink off and then on again, the skin on the back of his neck starting to tingle. Something was very wrong here...

He caught his breath, twisting his head to look upward as he silently cursed his lack of attention. The black speck they'd seen earlier was much closer, dropping toward them like an impatient asteroid.

And at this distance, Tories could now see the ship's ail-too distinctive double-winged silhouette.

"What is that?" Corf asked, his voice tight.

"A Trade Federation C-9979 landing ship," Tories bit out, jabbing one last useless time at his comlink's controls.

"Oh, no," Corf breathed, fumbling at his belt for his own comlink. "We have to warn Dad!"

"We can't," Tories told him, shoving his comlink back into its pouch.

'They've knocked out the system."

"Then we have to get over there," Corf said, turning back toward the house. "Come on."