**Data lacking: human, navigation, logistics. Probability low. You are ignorant, conclusions faulty.** The astromech's response was understandably skeptical. Probably not as harsh as it sounded to my human ears; Binary was a practical language without a lot of room for tact.

Regardless, I was finding my time talking with him to be extremely enjoyable. Hovering above us was my 3D holoprojection of the major events in the coming timeline, now coming out of the little droid's projector rather than the small portable one I had already tucked back away with my things.

"Your reaction makes sense, Artoo, if I was pulling all this out of my… rear data port." He gave a wordless spray of exclamatory beeps at my phrasing. "Everything here is reconstructed from memories of the future. These are events I have seen happen. Unless I intervene, their probability is one."

**Negation. Provisional acceptance of provenance. Hypothetical: one gate change cascades to high magnitude alteration of circuit. You are one gate.**

This one took me a while to decypher. "You're saying that just knowing, I've already altered the future? So unlikely events are unlikely again?"

**Agreement.**

"That makes sense, but I already have a lot of contrary evidence. The Viceroy is dead. Qui-Gon and I didn't meet the leader of the Gungans, and we managed to get Amidala out before Theed was overrun rather than after."

**Data is consistent with my statement. High magnitude changes.**

"And yet, here we are. We left on exactly the same ship, we were attacked in exactly the same way, and exactly the same droid," I gestured to him and got a happy, preening wail, "saved us. And so now we're going to the same backwater planet to repair the same hyperdrive as before. "

**Negation. Initial navigation identical. Attack vectors low variance. Astromech behavior low variance. Outcome consistent across probability space.**

"Battle involves more chance elements than that."

**Negation. Modern space combat is highly automated.**

"The pilots are still biologicals."

**Modern control systems compensate for sources of error.**

I chuckled at that. "A pilot is just a source of error, huh?"

**Affirmative. Amusement.**

The hiss of the door to the hallway opened. Artoo winked out the holo as we both turned to see the handmaiden enter… and immediately hesitate. "My apologies, I wasn't expecting anyone else to be in here." She held a small caddy in her hands, with bottles of cleaning solution, brushes, and soft cloths.

"No, please, come in. Artoo and I were just chatting. Padme, was it?" I stood and moved back, away from both the droid and the door, giving her plenty of room to join us.

**Greetings.**

She gave us both a small bow before kneeling in front of the charred astromech. Care radiated from her like a healing balm. "My royal mistress bid me tend to you, brave little droid," she said, taking a bottle and a cloth, and working from the edge of the char.

**Unnecessary. No pain receptors on my chassis. I am not in distress.**

"I think this is more about honor than healing," I told him.

"You understand droidspeak?" Padme beamed. "What did it say?"

"He said that he isn't hurt. But… well…" I turned an amused eye to the droid, who was making contented sounds as Padme continued to work. "Could I join you?"

When she nodded, I knelt next to her and took a brush and a surface wax. We worked in silence for a few minutes; I was reminded of the work detail given young would-be Jedi at the Temple. Constructive, mindless work helped me learn mental stillness better even than meditation, in my opinion.

"What's it like, being a Jedi?" she finally asked me.

I gave myself a moment to think about how to respond. In the end, I decided the unvarnished truth was best.

"It's a constant burden." I saw her glance up at me when I said that, her hands never resting. "Most people, they deal with the little stuff. Their own lives, maybe a family or a small unit. Me, the Jedi? We're supposed to deal with conflicts affecting the whole Galaxy. Keep the Republic running, stop planets from annihilating other planets."

I sighed, and kept on. "And it's worse for those few of us who already know that the Sith are back. We don't even have the luxury of saying that we can just continue on as we have for centuries. We know things are coming to a head, soon."

Padme had returned her gaze to the chassis, but her mental attention was still entirely on me. She was starting to wear down one particular spot. "The Sith, the Dark Jedi? You said they're back?"

"They're behind the attack on Naboo. I just wish I knew why."

**She is now in distress. You are the cause. Fix it.** Artoo's tone was somehow accusatory, almost angry.

"He's right, I shouldn't have put this all on you. Forgive me, majesty. You have your own worries." I replaced the brush and stood to go.

"No, I… I'm just Padme. Queen Amidala -"

"It's okay. I get the need for decoys. But in case it becomes useful for you to know that I know…" I shrug. "Don't rely on makeup to fool Force sensitives. We can tell the difference between people without looking."

"I'll… keep that in mind. Mister… Kenobi?"

"Yes?"

"What were you and Artoo talking about?"

"The future. How to change it."

**Query: share data?** I was honestly surprised that he bothered to ask, but it was nice to know he respected me at least that much.

"Go for it." I made it to the door just as Padme started gesturing to zoom in on different parts of the timeline. "Let me know later if you have any questions."

I left an intrigued monarch and a skeptical droid both happily chattering away, and made my way back up to the cockpit.

"I still think this is much too dangerous," Captain Panaka said again as the holo of the desert planet Tatooine floated above the navigational console. My Master nodded at my entrance.

"We're close enough now, good," I approved. I pulled a data stick out of my supplies and plugged it into the nav station. Blue-green longitude and latitude lines enveloped the globe, and several tooltips in different colors popped up. "We have two places to get to, which are about six hundred kilometers apart. The first one is out in the desert; the second is this settlement here. Technically a spaceport."

The captain turned his incredulous eyes on Qui-Gon, who gave a half-shrug combined with a go ahead gesture.

The pilot chimed in, "Fuel and sand shouldn't be a problem for a dirt-side hop. Probably best to just land directly in both places."

I nodded. "I was hoping you'd say that. I wasn't looking forward to trying to get hold of a landrunner, or dodging attention of we decided we had to visit Mos Eisley." I pointed to the dot on the map representing the largest settlement.

I confirmed for the pilot what would be a reasonable location to land near the desert site. Qui-Gon pulled me aside into the hallway.

"So, young Padawan," he began, "how long, exactly, have you known that we would be visiting Tatooine?"

I tried to look apologetic. "Seven years, Master," I admitted.

"And you apparently prepared for this visit, did you not?" Qui-Gon continued.

"Extensively, yes, Master." I couldn't keep my tone entirely self-effacing for that.

"Then why not just make sure we had the spare parts we need to repair the ship, and not have to make the stop at all?"

I shook my head. "I'm pretty sure that wouldn't have worked, Master."

Qui-Gon's posture was closed at this point, one foot forward, piercing me with that powerful gaze. He said nothing, but I felt him willing me to continue.

"No matter what I did, we would not have been able to escape meeting Anakin Skywalker."

"The boy you've told me about? The one that will become a powerful Sith Lord?" His presence intensified; he pushed at me even harder.

"Darth Vader, yes Master." Even now I disliked saying the name out loud. I knew the Sith could redirect and influence thoughts from light years away; why not across time? But I was unwilling to cower before a mere name.

"And so, while the fate of a world hangs in the balance, and its queen is under our protection, we take a detour to a remote planet to confront and kill a young boy?" If I didn't know him to be incapable of it, I would think he was angry; but no, his expression seemed more like amused frustration. As though he was coming near the end of his patience, humoring his delusional pupil.

"Kill? No, of course not." I said, allowing myself a confident smile that I did not feel. "I am not so arrogant as to believe I could kill an entity of prophecy and of the Force, even at the dawn of his life."

This at least earned me an approving nod.

"No, Master," I pressed. "I'm not going to kill Anakin Skywalker. I'm going to save him."