Author's Note: This chapter is mostly just setting up the secondary plot; but don't worry, there is more Leia/Vader to come in the next chapter! And aren't you proud of me for updating so quickly? :D Please review!
Chapter Seven: The First Dream
My argument with Vader put me in a foul mood. The man – if he was a man – was utterly despicable. He had no morals, no values – all he wanted was to get ahead of everyone else in the galaxy, like an animal, attempting to bite and scratch his way to the top of the pack. May the best beast win.
The Alliance was in the middle of a move. Since the Empire now knew about our Yavin base, we were packing up and leaving before they could sufficiently regroup and attack us again. We had very little defense against Star Destroyers.
The base only had a skeleton crew left. I was to fly out the next afternoon; Solo had disappeared two days before with a promise to show up at the new base – eventually. Luke was still here, but he spent a large portion of his time with the pilots, since following me around while I did my duties bored him to tears.
Only Mon Mothma and a few select pilots knew the location of the new base; until we got there, none of us would know. It was one more security measure. Well, Solo knew it too; I had argued against that – the man wasn't even officially part of the Alliance, refusing point-plank to give up the neutrality he got by remaining a smuggler. The battle four days ago had pretty much shattered that neutrality, according to everyone, Ally or Imperial, but the stubborn man refused to admit it. Anyway, Mon had agreed to tell Solo, despite my protests – she called it an act of trust. I called it stupid.
I continued to fume as I prepared for my last night at the Yavin base. Tomorrow, I – along with the rest of the remaining crew – would go the new one. I crawled into bed and curled up into a ball under my blankets, childishly hoping that with the new base would come a new beginning, in which I didn't have to worry about Solo or Vader. If only . . .
I was standing in a dusty, disorganized shop. Mechanical pieces were strewn across shelves and piled in the corners. Very few of them appeared to be functional, or even in one piece.
I was aware of three other beings in the room with me, but I knew there was a starship just beyond the borders of this city with the rest of our crew. In front of me and slightly to my left, there was a man with long brown hair liberally streaked with grey. He was our leader on this little outing, and I respected him greatly. He was facing a grouchy-looking, blue, flying alien that I had just laid eyes on and would be perfectly happy never to do so again. Beside me was a tall orange alien I knew was rather clumsy, but very good-hearted. He was very curious, but he was used to being in and around water. The desert wasn't agreeing with him.
A slight movement on my other side drew my eye to the little blue and white astrodroid idling at my heels. His dome swivelled around as he took in our new surroundings.
A shout from the blue creature startled me. Qui-Gon, our Jedi leader and my protector, had been starting negotiations to get the hyperdrive we needed.
A little boy raced out from a back room. He was adorable – all blonde hair and big, bright blue eyes. I guessed him to be about nine or ten, though he was small for such an age. He eyed the blue alien's hand warily as the creature raised it, but he bantered with the creature in a language I didn't know for a few moments, then moved over to the counter as Qui-Gon, my astrodroid Artoo, and the blue alien went out the back door the boy had come in as the Gungan Jar Jar picked something up. Qui-Gon immediately took it from him.
"Don't touch anything," Qui-Gon ordered on his way out.
Jar Jar made a face at Qui-Gon's back, his alien features twisting in such a way that I was hard-pressed not to giggle.
The little boy sat on the counter, legs swinging idly as he cleaned something with a stained rag. I looked around th shop, trying to be inconspicuous. Every now and then the boy would glance up at me, which made me a bit embarrassed, but I smiled at him anyway. He was just a little boy, after all. I couldn't see the harm.
"Are you an angel?" he asked me.
I blinked; I didn't know what an angel was. "What?" I replied, hoping for clarification.
"An angel," he repeated. "I've heard the deep space pilots talk about them. They live on the Moons of Iego I think. They are the most beautiful creatures in the universe. They are good and kind, and so pretty they make even the most hardened spice pirate cry."
I was speechless. He thought I was beautiful? I'd never been unhappy with my looks, but I would hardly consider myself beautiful. My sister Sola was the beautiful one in our family.
And good and kind? He'd just met me! I certainly hoped I was those things – some of the decisions I had to make as Queen made me doubt it at times – but how would this little boy know what I was like?
"I've never heard of angels," I said, not knowing what else to say.
"You must be one," he insisted. "Maybe you just don't know it."
I smiled. He was so cute! "You're a funny little boy," I told him. "How do you know so much?"
His smile wasn't quite as bright as it had been. "When I was little – three, I think – my mom and I were sold to Gardulla the Hutt. She lost us betting on the Podraces, to Watto. He's a lot better master than Gardulla I think –"
I'm sure he had a point somewhere in that story, but I was so shocked I had to interrupt and make sure I'd heard right. "You're – a slave?"
He set his jaw. "I'm a person, and I have a name!" he said defiantly, then looked back at the part in his hands with something akin to embarrassment – or perhaps shame. "It's Anakin," he finished, his voice quiet.
I felt horrible for making him feel inferior – if I had. Who knew how a little boy's mind worked? "I'm sorry," I apologized anyway. "I don't fully understand. This is a strange world to me."
How very true. I was so used to blues and greens and fabrics of every colour that this world, Tatooine, with it's tan and white, was the oddest thing I'd ever seen in my life.
He seemed to forgive me instantly, and the bright smile was back. "You're a strange girl to me," he replied cheerfully.
At that instant, a loud noise from a back corner drew our attention. Jar Jar had managed to bring a small droid to life, and held onto it as it began to move.. As he attempted to stop it, it began to knock over shelves of parts and other mechanical pieces.
"Hit the nose!" the boy told him, almost exasperated. Mechanics must come naturally to him – either that, or he couldn't imagine anyone not seeing one of these droids before.
Jar Jar followed the instructions, and the droid collapsed in his hands. He put it down, and moved away.
I turned back to the boy. "So what's it like, being a slave?" I asked, careful to keep any sort of infliction out of my voice, saving mere curiosity.
He shrugged. "It's alright. Keeps me fed, and I've got a home. My mom's got a lot of skills that a lot of owners can make use of – she can cook, and clean, and she knows how to read, write and figure, so she can keep the record books."
"Is she teaching all that to you?" I asked. "So you can be useful like her?"
"Yeah," he said. "I can do some . . . but owners have only got to keep moms and kids together for five years. After that, we can be sold away. I wouldn't have lasted long id I weren't so good at fixing things. I'm making my own droid," he added proudly.
I could hardly believe my ears. What he was describing to me was criminal! How could the Republic allow such a thing?
I was about to ask another question when Qui-Gon came back in.
"We're leaving," he said shortly.
I frowned. His negotiations must not have gone too well. I smiled at the boy, wishing I could take him with me, like a child with a toy. He was such a sweet little boy.
"I'm glad I met you . . . ah . . . " I'd forgotten his name! I was sure he'd told me what it was, but for the life of me I couldn't remember.
"Anakin," he supplied helpfully.
"Anakin," I finished with a smile.
"Anakin Skywalker," he added.
"Padme Naberrie," I told him, then turned to follow Qui-Gon.
As I reached the door, I heard him call, "I'm glad I met you, too!"
"There is still . . ."
--
". . . good in him."
I sat straight up, looking for the woman who had whispered those words. They hadn't been part of that dream I'd had, that insane, weird dream. They had been distinctly real.
But I was alone.
"Great," I muttered as I rolled out of bed. "I've finally gone crazy."
Then a realization hit me hard, like a smack in the face or a fist in the gut.
"Anakin Skywalker . . . Skywalker – that's Luke's name!"
