Chapter 6

Less than an hour later, Anakin was walking through the streets of the capital city with the Queen's servant beside him. She had put on a brown hooded cloak, and it seemed to be doing its job of keeping her from being noticed. People barely glanced at her, as they were too busy rushing about and examining the slaves for sale. Some had come without slaves, others had brought a slave or two with them to look at the ones for sale.

There were certainly numerous options. Many slaves were kept in pits in the ground, while others were kept on chains and leashes. A few were even in cages. Like animals Anakin noted. He glanced over at the slave beside him, wondering how she dealt with seeing all this, being a slave herself and all. Her face seemed devoid of any expression or emotion, as she looked around. How does she do that? Doesn't it make her unhappy? He himself, not for the first time since landing on this wretched planet, could feel anger curling inside of him.

He looked to his left, and saw a man raise a lightwhip to beat one of his slaves. Only, when he swung his arm to bring it down, he found that it was no longer in his possession. In fact, it now sat perched on the roof of a nearby building. Anakin stared for a second, then turned to look at Riksha. He noticed her hand move discreetly beneath her cloak, and had no doubt it was she who had moved the lightwhip. A faint smile tugged at the corners of Anakin's mouth. Perhaps part of the reason she wore the cloak was to hide such tricks as the one she had just performed.

Since he was not actually interested in buying a slave, Anakin instead focused on watching the behaviors of the people in the city. It would be beneficial to learn how exactly they acted, walked, talked, etc. That way, he could blend in better, and perhaps the information might help other Jedi blend in if they chose to come and stage an attack that way.

He also paid close attention to the behavior of the Queen's slave. She was strange, that much was for certain. Unlike almost every other person in the market, she did not seem to react to anything happening around them. She did not appear startled when a crate fell over. She didn't appear to be angry when they walked past a slave receiving a beating. She didn't even look over as two slavers got into a heated argument. Nothing. Anakin couldn't sense any emotion coming from her at all, which was odd. Either she truly is unaffected, which can't be true, considering how she moved that lightwhip, or she knows how to shield her feelings from outsiders. In order to put up such shields, she would have to be an advanced force user...

Curiously, Anakin used the Force to try and look at her mind. Nothing to major, he just wanted to see if he could find her emotions. Surely, it would not be a difficult task, to just peek at the mind of a slave...

And so he was shocked when he hit a wall.

Not a physical wall, but a mental wall, put up through the Force. It was not unlike the ones he had built up. The sort of walls a person has to be taught how to put up, either through studying or through someone teaching them. This bit of information further added to his... Curiosity? Suspicion? Surprise? None of those words seemed quite right, but they sort of described his thoughts.

Finally, he decided they had walked in silence long enough. What harm could possibly come from asking a few questions?

"So, your name is Riley?" Anakin asked, instantly feeling dumb. What kind of conversation starter was that? Oh right, his conversations usually started with a lightsaber... Hmm, maybe Obi-Wan was right, he did need to work on speech a bit more.

"Yes."

Well, so much for starting a conversation. One word answers were not exactly conversation material. "What about your last name?" He inquired.

Anakin noticed that she furrowed her brow, looking confused. "The Queen doesn't give us last names."

Now it was his turn to be confused. "The Queen? What does she have to do with your name?"

"The Queen gives us each a new name when we begin service to her."

That was one of the dumbest things Anakin thought he had ever heard in his life. "And that's it? That's your name?"

"Not truly, I suppose, but what does it matter? Who would care to learn the name of a servant anyway?"

Anakin wanted to say "I would" but he refrained. It was too soon to blow his cover, to have anyone suspect him of being anything other than a slave trader. So, he fell silent, watching as she examined one of the slaves that was chained up.

To say the least, Riksha was surprised when the trader, Arwyn, spoke to her.

She had, more or less, expected him to barely take notice of her. Slavers didn't usually care about slaves at all, unless you were lucky enough to be owned by a "good" one. No person who owned slaves was good from Riksha's point of view, but some were definitely better than others. She had seen many types of traders, and determined that a select few were actually good to their servants. What about the Queen? That woman fell somewhere in-between. The slaves she owned had pretty good housing, living in a palace and all. Their rooms were small, but compared to the terrible conditions other slaves had to live in the rooms might as well be heaven. Food was always given, twice a day. The clothing was comfortable, even if it did mark the slaves as, well, slaves. The Queen was fairly harsh in dealing out punishments, but she was much better than a lot of other people on this planet. Her punishments were for the most part just extra work or spending a night in the cellar. Of course, for more severe incidents, harsher punishments were dealt out.

Actually, the Queen was usually not the one to carry out the harsher punishments. Her guards dealt with that most of the time, and depending on which guard you got, you could get away with minimal punishment. A strike or two with a lightwhip if you were lucky. If you were not so lucky, then, well, good luck.

Riksha had yet to figure out what kind of trader this man beside her was. He had, according to Tarani and Puanani (the Twi'Lek girl), been kind to them. He had even thanked them for carrying out the Queen's orders. That was not something that you see everyday, at least not on this planet. Now, he inquired about her name.

Her first instinct was to say "no, that is not my name" but it was her name, at least as a slave. It was the name she had been assigned by the Queen. Her last name? The Queen didn't give servants last names, as that would be ridiculous. She cared enough to name them, but they did not, according to the Queen, deserve last names. The names she assigned them were more so that she could easily shout out an order and have the correct person fulfill it.

After her last comment, Arwyn stopped asking questions momentarily. Riksha turned to look at one of the slaves that was chained by the wrist to a wooden post, an alien boy of a species she did not recognize. He was, she realized, blind. No wonder his owner was trying to sell him, but who would buy a blind slave? It was quite unfortunate for him. Riksha turned away, not wanting to dwell on what might happen to him. Coming down to the market always stirred up negative feelings within her, but she had trained herself to not focus on them. This way, they were less likely to lead to something bad.

What could she do even if she did dwell upon these feelings? Her Jedi side was screaming at her to do something, to free the slaves. The Jedi were protectors, after all. But she could do nothing, having been reduced down to merely a slave herself. The best she could do was bring one of the slaves into the Queen's group. The Queen was one of the best people to work for on the planet, and even though suffering was still involved, it was much better than being the slave of most other people.

It was for these reasons that Riksha never chose the strongest slave. The strong ones could survive the harsh conditions of other owners. Riksha often chose young people below the age of 20. These were the slaves that would be good workers, and being young they deserved to grow up in better conditions than what they would likely get if the Queen did not buy them. They also tended to harbor less hate and anger, which was key. The slaves who had a lot of hate within them were typically rebellious, and that would lead to the suffering of the other slaves. Riksha could not bring a slave into the group who would only cause the rest of them pain.

"So, if the Queen named you, Riley is not technically your real name?"

The trader interrupted her thoughts, asking another question. Why did he care? Perhaps he was one of the 'good' slavers who actually considered the well-being of his servants. "That is correct."

"What is your real name then?" He asked.

Riksha turned her attention away from the slaves and focused it on him. Without being too obvious, for it is improper for a slave to make eye contact, she glanced over at him. She examined his expression, and considered the feelings she could sense from him, to try and figure out his intentions. He seemed like he was just curious, perhaps even bored and looking to make conversation. How strange. A slaver, who is planning on buying a slave, is bored in a slave market and making conversation with a slave. She might have been amused, had she not been worrying about how to answer his question.

Was it safe to tell him her name? Her first name perhaps, but not her last. Her name, Riksha Noabbaa, was a name that was associated with a supposedly dead Jedi Knight. For many reasons, she could not go around claiming this as her name.

"Riksha," she finally stated, realizing she had been silent for a while.

"Riksha..." He muttered, as if testing out the word. "What's your last name?"

She hesitated a moment, then decided to try her luck and refuse to answer. "I'd rather not say."

She sensed a bit of surprise from him, that she had chosen not to answer his question. But he didn't push the issue, he just stood waiting while she walked over to a young human boy. The boy was sitting on the ground, chained by the wrist just like the first slave she had paused to look at, except this one also had an electric collar. He had a mop of shaggy red hair, and bright green eyes. Freckles were scattered across his face, though it was somewhat difficult to discern between the freckles and the dirt. He wore an old, dirty tan tunic and torn sand colored pants. It didn't take a genius to figure out that he was not exactly treated well, and yet Riksha could not sense any negative feelings from him.

"Hello," she said softly, kneeling in front of him.

The boy lifted his head up, looked from her to Anakin to his current owner and then back to her. "Hi."

"How old are you?" Riksha asked him.

"10."

"And your name?"

"Tatianos."

Riksha smiled, and he gave a smile in return. Yes, he was the one. "Nice to meet you, Tatianos, my name is Riksha."

The boy tilted his head. "That's a funny name."

"Is it?" Riksha asked, amused.

Tatianos nodded, a lock of his red hair falling in front of his face as he did so. He brushed it away, smudging a bit of dirt across his forehead as he did. "Who do you work for?" He inquired.

"Well, the Queen."

"Is she nice?"

"Pardon?"

"Is she nice," the boy repeated. Glancing somewhat warily at the stern looking man nearby, the boy's owner, he lowered his voice to almost a whisper. "My current master is not very kind to us."

"I see," Riksha said, frowning slightly, as she too glanced over at the man. He was currently distracted, talking to another slaver. "The Queen is nice enough, I suppose. Better than many."

"She doesn't seem to make you wear these," Tatianos commented, tapping with his free hand on the electric collar around his neck.

"No, not usually, unless you are unusually uncooperative."

The boy nodded, sighing. "Your master, she sent you to find another slave, right?"

"That is correct."

"Do you think, maybe, you could choose me?" Tatianos asked hopefully.

Riksha looked at the young boy's bright green eyes, full of the hope of gaining a better master. She stood up, clasping her hands in front of her. "I will speak to the Queen. I cannot make any promises, of course."

Tatianos grinned, brushing his hair away again. "Thanks."

Riksha let a smile cross her face, bowing her head briefly to her fellow slave. "Hopefully, I will see you again soon, Tatianos."

"Seeya, Riksha."

Riksha turned away, and began walking back towards the palace.

Anakin followed after the Queen's servant, contemplating what he had seen and heard in the market. It was a fairly long walk back to the palace, so he had plenty of time to think. There was certainly much to think about, starting with this servant's name. Riksha. The name rang a bell, though he couldn't seem to remember exactly where he had heard the name before. Sometime during his travels? Maybe. Perhaps Obi-Wan had mentioned her name? It was possible.

Then there was the matter of her not wanting to share her last name. Why would someone be secretive about something like that? If he knew her last name, it would probably make it easier for him to figure out who exactly she was. A last name was not exactly some deep dark secret... Or was it? Anakin had the feeling that this slave girl was hiding something.

Her choice in the Queen's new slave was odd, to say the least. She had completely ignored the older and stronger slaves, and the ones who looked as though they were being treated well. She had passed by the slaves that Anakin could sense were angry, and the ones that harbored hate in their hearts. Instead, Riksha had gone to a young boy. A very average boy at that. Wouldn't the Queen want the 'best' slave? He supposed Riksha knew more about the Queen than he did, so maybe this was normal. Maybe the Queen liked average slaves. Or maybe Riksha had purposely chosen the boy for other reasons.

"Why did you bow to that boy?" Anakin asked suddenly. He had noticed her bow her head to the boy before leaving. Why had she done that?

"A sign of respect for an equal," Riksha replied.

So her bowing to the other slave was sort of like how the Jedi all bow to each other. It made a lot of sense, and Anakin was a tad embarrassed that he hadn't figured that out. She hadn't bowed to him the way she bowed to the Queen, it had definitely been a respectful bow as opposed to the bow a slave gives to their master. Being bowed to had certainly made the boy happy, Anakin had sensed that. Happiness at having someone acknowledge you as a person, instead of an animal or machine.

Finally, they reached the palace. Anakin wasn't really sure what to do, but Riksha informed him it was nearly dinner time so if he wanted to wait in the dining room food would be ready shortly. Then, she hurried off to go tell the Queen about the red-haired boy, Tatianos. Anakin did the only logical thing he could think of that might help him get some answers; he followed her. He was curious as to how the conversation about the boy would play out.

Riksha disappeared inside a room, within which Anakin assumed was the Queen. Stopping just outside the door, he leaned against it, trying to hear the conversation going on within the room.

"Riley, I see you're back. I assume you found the right slave for me?"

"Indeed, your Majesty. A young boy, of about ten years."

"That sounds lovely, but I have decided I don't actually need another slave."

"Your Majesty?"

"I figured, I only just got that Togruta child Taylor at the last market, why get another so soon?"

"But your Majesty, he-"

"Riley are you arguing with me?"

A momentary silence followed the question. Then "no, your Majesty."

"Good. We will discuss this no more. Go hurry and make dinner."

Anakin quickly backed away from the door, just as Riksha exited. He could tell she was not the least bit happy with the conversation she had just had with the Queen, and he wondered why she had been so set on getting the Queen to buy that boy. He supposed that the boy would have a better life as the Queen's slave than he currently had, so perhaps Riksha felt that she would be sort of rescuing the boy.

Whatever the reason, the Queen was not buying the boy. That was that. Anakin couldn't help feeling bad for the boy, who had been so hopeful that Riksha's master would buy him. Those green eyes, so full of hope and happiness after Riksha spoke to him. He had been treated so poorly, yet he didn't seem to dwell on the past, only on what might be his future. It was admirable, really. And something Anakin hadn't quite mastered himself. He had never really been able to let go of his past...

Shaking his head to clear away the thoughts which tried to crawl in, Anakin sat down at the dining table. It wasn't long before the Queen joined him, and dinner was served. She chattered away about completely uninteresting things, which he only half listened to. Scooping up a spoonful of soup, Anakin resolved to contact Obi-Wan later tonight. He wanted to ask his former Master a few questions, and there was no doubting the older Jedi would be glad to hear from him.

Anakin and Riksha finally spoke to each other. :) They are each one step closer to discovering the true identity of the other... I know you are all anxious to see how that will play out. I won't say when it will happen, because I rather enjoy letting you experience the buildup. It would be unfair for me to rob you of the suspense, wouldn't it?

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, I love to know what my readers are thinking. Plus, it's nice to know people are enjoying the story. If you haven't commented on the story, I would love to hear from you too. :)