Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Star Wars. (Although it would be nice.)

Chapter 1

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…

Shmi Skywalker stood in the doorway to her little home and rubbed her hand over her protruding belly. It wouldn't be long, she knew. And she couldn't wait. Although this child would be born into slavery, there was still that thrill of expectancy and the joy of having him. Or her. Shmi smiled to herself. Andan was convinced it was a boy, but she was sure it was a girl. And, since she was the one carrying the child, her opinion should carry some weight, right?

Suddenly, she felt arms slip around her waist, startling her. But immediately, she recognized them as Andan's own, and she melted into the embrace. Jahna was initially angry when she Shmi told her that she had married, and a free man, at that. In all honesty, Shmi was sure that it was mainly because it was without her consent. But in time, her mistress had reconciled herself to the fact. Yet even if she hadn't, Shmi didn't care. She truly loved Andan, and she knew he loved her. Besides, his being free would increase the chances for their child to not be a slave.

"Dreaming of our not-too-distant future?" Andan murmured against her neck. Shmi only smiled in response. "This boy is going to change our lives, isn't he?"

At this, she shifted to face him, a playful look in her eye. "Boy, huh? And what makes you so sure it's a boy?"

"I just know," he replied, squeezing her tighter.

"Oh, yeah? Well, I think that it's going to be a girl. And I think I would know."

"You're doing an awful lot of thinking, aren't you?" He was rewarded with a not-so-playful swat on the shoulder. "Hey! That hurt!"

Shmi gave him a look. "You work with heavy machinery all day and a small punch from a weak pregnant lady 'hurts'?"

"Well, you know, I'm already sore from working all day, so little things like that—" He was cut off by another punch. "You just think you can get away with that, don't you? Well, let me tell you something—" She squealed as he started tickling her, and their banter dissolved into giggles. "C'mon, let's get back inside," he said after a while, breathing hard from their chase around the front yard area. " I can sense a sandstorm heading this way."

Shmi shot him a glance. "You and your sensings. Sometimes I wonder about you."

He looked at her with big, innocent eyes. "What are you talking about?"

She pursed her lips and shook her head. "Nothing. We'll talk about it some other time. Not when I have dinner to cook."

He put a hand on her arm. "I'll cook tonight." Her eyebrows shot up. "No, really. I can cook," he insisted, a smile on his face. "You'll see." Before she turned to go, he put out a hand to stop her. "And if my 'sensings,' as you put it, bother you, I'm sorry. I can stop saying things out loud if you like."

Shmi couldn't stop the look of surprise she shot him, but that was the last thing she had expected him to say. "No, that's alright. They don't bother me, they just—" She searched for the right words. "They just catch me off guard sometimes. I guess it's because of how accurate they are." She indicated the roof of their humble home, where the beginning sounds of a sandstorm could be heard. "A case in point."

Her husband merely shrugged. "I don't know. But what I do know is that you have had a day full of exertion, and you need to sit down and rest. I'll take care of dinner and everything else. You don't just have yourself to think of, you know."

The tired woman smiled. "I know." That was one thing she loved about Andan; he was so sweet and caring. He didn't just say he loved her, then sat down while she did all the work. Day after day, he showed his love through helping her and attempting to make her life easier, especially with this baby on the way.

And sure enough, it turned out that Andan could cook. They had only been married for not even a year; it was clear she had a lot to learn about him. Not only that, but true to his word, he cleaned up and sent her to bed early, despite her protests. "You have a big day tomorrow," was his only excuse.

"But you say that every night!" Shmi tried to persuade him, but he wasn't buying it. So, off to bed she went. Secretly, she liked it when he sent her to bed early. It was one more way he showed he cared.

The next day, she was serving Jahna her morning meal when the Askajian noticed the bulge beneath her tunic. "Yigih gaql ays drisyuna?" her mistress demanded, indicating her belly. When translated into Basic, that meant, "What's going on here?"

Shmi sighed. Although her mistress had accepted the fact of her marriage, she might not be too happy with Shmi now going to have a child. But she had known that she wouldn't be able to hide it much longer. "I'm going to have a baby," she replied in Huttese.

Jahna frowned. "What do you mean you're going to have a baby? Will you still get your work done?"

"Yes, of course, Jahna." Shmi sighed. That was all her mistress cared about. But it didn't turn out too shabby, since her mistress was lenient enough to allow Shmi to be married in the first place. Sometimes, you just had to take the good with the bad, Shmi thought wryly. She had learned that early on in her life of servitude.

xxxxxxx

In due time, the baby was born, and Shmi was all too happy to enjoy her victory and rub it in her husband's face: it was a girl! The look of wonder on Andan's face as he held her for the first time, however, was enough to melt even the coldest heart. He named her Anatika, which meant in his home language, "warrior."

"What would you have named our child if she had been a boy?" Shmi queried with a bemused look on her face.

He thought about it for a moment, then replied, "Anakin."

"You like the 'Ana's, don't you?"

Andan nodded.

"And what does 'Anakin' mean, might I ask?"

"It means 'chosen fighter.'"

"Ahh, I see the connection. What would make him so 'chosen'?"

"He would be a boy, of course!" The couple enjoyed a laugh over that.

"Well, our children will need to be fighters, in this arid and desolate place, overrun with crime and poverty." Shmi finished the sentence with a grim and frustrated look, then happened to glance up and saw a strange emotion flash across Andan's face. Was it fear? Uncertainty? She had seen it in his face before, though always only for a brief moment. Should she ask him about it now? No, now was not the time. Not while they were basking in the glow of their new baby girl. That would be a question for later.

xxxxxxx

It was another two weeks before Shmi was able to ask him about it. She was sitting up mending, and he was studiously working on fixing an especially difficult piece of machinery. The topic needed delicacy, she decided, and brought it up carefully. "The night Anatika was born, you seemed a bit unsettled about something. Anything you want to talk about?"

Andan looked up at her, surprised. "I'm sorry?"

"Well, there was this look on your face, right after I was talking about our children being fighters. It stuck with me, and, well, I was just wondering if everything was alright."

Understanding dawned on his expression and he quickly looked back down at what he had been doing, seemingly focused.

But in spite of his calm demeanor, Shmi noticed that his hands were shaking. Strange, she thought. I wonder what it could be?

When he finally returned her gaze, his eyes were brimming with tears. "No, I'm afraid everything is not alright. I tried to hide this from you, my love, but apparently it isn't possible."

"What are you talking about?" Shmi interrupted, her eyes wide and a slight tremor in her voice.

Andan heaved a sigh, looking miserable. "I know how you feel about my sensings. Sometimes they're good—and sometimes they aren't." He crossed the room and put his arms around her. "For whatever reason, call it another 'sensing,' I don't think that I will be here very much longer. We might not have any more children. Now, I don't know what exactly that means or how it will come about; all I know is what I see," he added quickly. "I'm sure everything will turn out alright."

Shmi was speechless. Not be here? What could he possibly mean by that? Was he going to move to another planet? It would make sense in light of the circumstances they lived in, but would he just leave her here? She didn't understand, and somehow she knew that he didn't either. "Andan?" she whispered.

"Yes?"

"I'm frightened."

His only response was to tighten his grip and press her head against his shoulder. Suddenly, he pulled away and looked her in the eye. "Whatever happens, this I want you to know. I will be here for you, until it is no longer possible. I do not control what has already been determined as my destiny; I can only hope that it will turn out well. And no matter what, I will love you forever. Nothing can change that."

Shmi had never seen him so grave, and she knew that every word was the truth. He wasn't just trying vainly to comfort her. He would be there to support and help her, even if tough times came upon them. The real question was what she would do when he was gone. She couldn't remember what life was like without Andan Skywalker.