A/N: So, this is my first Star Wars story. I'm sorry guys... I'm making this a generational thing... which means I'm starting with the Prequel Trilogy. Which means... yes... there's going to be Jar Jar Binks... Don't hurt me! *hides from tomatoes that are going to be tossed*
Enjoy anyway!
(I don't own anything except my OC's!)

Chapter One

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

Turmoil has engulfed the Galactic Republic. The taxation of trade routed to outlying star systems is in dispute.
Hoping to resolve the matter with a blockade of deadly battleships, the greedy Trade Federation has stopped all shipping to the small planet of Naboo.
While the Congress of the Republic endlessly debates this alarming chain of events, the Supreme Chancellor has secretly dispatched two Jedi Knights, the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy, to settle the conflict...

I didn't consider myself a slave. Just because I worked for a slave owner didn't mean I was enslaved. I had the right to come and go as I pleased, go into bars and such. I was just paid poorly. Very poorly. It was enough to live on but not enough to have spending money afterwards. Maybe a drink at the bar and then leave. Not enough to get wasted, which is what I would have preferred. But, hey, it was a drink.

Here on Tatooine, nothing really happened. The biggest thing we all looked forward to was pod-racing, but half the time the pods would fuck up so there was that. Though I knew this young boy who could possibly be the best pod-racer on this planet. He was nine, small for his age. A little blonde boy named Anakin. Unlike me, he and his mother, Shmi, were both slaves. Anakin didn't have a father. I'm not quite sure of the story behind it, to be honest with you, but I knew that he wasn't in the picture.
Anakin was the slave of Watto, who was also my employer. He's a Toydarian, with faded light blue skin and small wings on his back. Honestly, I don't know how they kept him up but somehow they did. He was foul-tempered and greedy and really wasn't nice at all. At least that was my impression of him. I couldn't stand him, personally, but some people liked him. Of course they weren't exactly "nice" either. Birds of a feather flock together.

I made my way to the bar after I got off work, though young Anakin was still repairing spare pieces. I tried to make Watto send him home, but he threatened to make me work longer if I pushed him. So I left. Mainly because what he has me doing is moving around big, heavy, dangerous pieces and I really didn't want to die. I know it seems selfish that a young nine year old is working long into the night, but even if I really tried I wouldn't be able to take his place. The only person who could take it was Shmi, and even then Watto didn't think she could repair things like Anakin can.

I listened to the music around me, shutting my eyes for a moment. To the left of me, I heard someone get punched in the face before glass breaking. The music stopped soon after. I opened one eye and looked. I couldn't exactly make it out. One man was standing; another was on the ground, holding his nose. Opening both of my eyes I sat up. The one on the ground had fiery red hair and wore dark brown while the man who was standing (who I could see very well). The man who was standing had dark brown hair and a goatee, which was groomed regularly. He wore a black shirt with a grey jacket, dark brown pants and black boots.

"Dammit, Jamis!" I heard another man exclaim. "I've told you time and time again, you fight in my bar and you're going to get your ass kicked out!"

"And yet almost every time you let me back in." The man, Jamis, spoke. "Which goes to show that you really don't give a damn."

Sheesh, he was cocky. I sat up and got a better look of this man's face. His eyes, which were hidden underneath his bangs, seemed to be an emerald green. He had a nice jawline and, from what I thought, looked buff. I got up and made my way through the crowd a bit to get a better look of this Jamis. The name sounded familiar to me, though I couldn't put my finger on it.

"I mean it this time, Solo. Out!"

My eyes widened. Jamis Solo! The trader! He's been to every planet in this galaxy at least once. At least, that's what the stories have said.

No one ever said, though, how handsome he was.

Jamis looked at the bartender, the cocky grin still on his face. "I'll be back tomorrow."

"Like hell you will!"

And with that, Jamis walked out. I looked after him as the music started back up and the man with the red hair was helped up by his buddies.

"That son of a bitch almost broke my nose!" he muttered as they dragged him out.

"He's bleedin', man!" one of them exclaimed quietly.

"I'm gonna get that son of a bitch..." another muttered.

I hurried past them, to where Jamis was standing outside. He seemed to be waiting for something, which I could guess was his ride. I walked up to him and nervously tapped him on the shoulder. Deep emerald eyes met mine, and I saw one of his eyebrows disappear underneath his bangs.

"Yeah?"

"Um, those guys back there... I think they want to fight."

"They do, do they?" Jamis Solo grinned. "Let them. A couple of drunken men don't scare me."

I raised my eyebrows. "So if they beat your ass out here—"

"Listen, girly—"

"The name's Corinna—"

"Okay, Corinna, they won't fight me. You know why? Because I'm a Solo. And for generations upon generations, a Solo almost always won every fight they were in."

"Oh, well, aren't we cocky?" I crossed my arms.

"Just a bit."

I shook my head, and looked at him. "At least you admit it."

"I'll admit almost anything."

"What will you not admit?"

That seemed to have got him. Jamis ran a hand through his hair in thought. After a good amount of time, he answered. "My age."

I raised my eyebrows again. "Oh?"

"Yeah." He cleared his throat. "Listen... A pretty young thing like you, what're you doing here on a planet like Tatooine?"

"I live here."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." I leaned on the wall. The door to the bar slammed open, and the men stumbled out. Jamis stood up straight, but the drunken fool who still had blood pouring out of his nose seemed to be intimidated by him. One of his buddies, who currently wasn't helping him stay up, made his way over to where we were.

"Listen, Solo, you arrogant son of a bitch—" he glared.

"Arrogant, that's one I haven't heard in a while—" Jamis smirked.

"If you show your face on Tatooine again," the man shoved a finger in his face. Jamis went to bite it, but the man yanked it back. "I swear, I'll personally kick your ass myself."

"Ah, I see. Keep this in mind. I'm a trader. It's what I do. It's my way of life, I love it. Alright? Now, if I stop trading things with Tatooine, see, that would disrupt everything else. I can't have that and, as I'm sure you can understand, my boss really, really can't have that. How's about, if I come here, you go your way, or I'll go mine."

"Or what?"

Jamis yanked his blaster out of its holster. "I'll shoot ya."

The man took a step back, his eyes widening. Jamis nodded, putting his blaster back. He then made a 'shooing' motion with his hands, and the men quickly left. I stared at Jamis, who merely shrugged his shoulders.

"Easy, peasy." He said.

"What if they get the authorities?" I gaped at him.

"Okay? They won't do anything. I'll be gone before they'll wanna do anything."

I sighed. "You're something else, Solo."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Don't."

"Too late."

I sighed, leaving his side.

"And just where do you think you're going?"

"Home." I didn't turn. I just kept walking down the road.

"Will you be back?"

"In a month."

And with that, I turned the corner and made my way home.