Padmé crouched next to Anakin behind the large, jagged boulder that rested near the edge of the rocky outcropping where they stood. She placed her hand on his shoulder and peered down into the Tusken camp in the valley below them.

Tatooine's largest moon glowed brightly in the clear, starry night sky, casting an iridescent glow to the landscape around them. In the valley below, she should see the smooth thatched domes of the Tuscan huts that occupied a large portion of the small valley below. Small campfires dotted the ground between the huts, and from time to time she could make out the cloaked figure of a Tusken guard moving silently between the huts. The sounds of massiffs, large dog-like animals that the Tuskens had domesticated over the years, could be heard growling and barking in the cool night air.

The air was cool; cooler than she was used to, and she shuddered as a cool chill ran up her spine and over her shoulders. The nights were sometimes as cool as the days were hot on this sandy, desert planet, and tonight was no exception. She wished that she had worn her heavier clothes, but there was little she could do about that now. She cupped her hands over her mouth and breathed into them to warm them, and her breath fogged between her fingers. She reached out with her hands and pulled her cloak tightly around her and moved a little closer to Anakin.

Anakin lowered the long-range binoculars he had been using and turned to her. "You cold?" he asked, a look of concern on his face.

"Just a little," she said, pulling her cloak tighter. "I'm not really used to the air being this cold." She smiled at him and nodded. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

Anakin smiled at her. He knew she would be; she was strong, as strong as any woman he had ever known, stronger than most men he knew, for that matter. Nevertheless, he hated to see her uncomfortable, but he knew it was pointless to try to convince her to take the speeder and go back, or even to hope that she'd wait here while he went into the camp below to search for Shmi.

He turned the binoculars back toward the camp. "She's down there, Padmé," he said, "I know she is. I can feel her."

Padmé searched the camp with her eyes. "The question is," she said, nodding her head slowly as she scanned the camp, "Where?"

Anakin closed his eyes and stretched out with his feelings into the Force. It only took a moment for him to locate the familiar tremor of his mother, the one that had haunted him so much over the past weeks. The tremor was there, of that he was certain; but it was getting weaker. He knew he had to find her, and find her quickly.

He opened his eyes and turned to Padmé. "I don't know exactly where she is, it's too hard to tell from up here." He paused for a moment, and then continued. "We're going to have to go down there and search for her."

Padmé nodded in agreement, and the two of them made their way quietly down the face of the cliff and toward the Tusken camp waiting below them.

The orange-gold planet of Geonosis filled the cockpit window as Jango Fett brought his ship out of hyperspace and powered up his impulse engines. As he made his way toward the dense asteroid ring that encircled the planet, young Boba kept his keen eyes focused on the various sensor arrays and displays. Jango smiled as he watched his son work. He had always been an eager student, hungry to learn all that his father would teach him. Jango was proud of him, as proud as any father would be; Boba was a match for most men already. He would make a fine bounty hunter one day.

The console next to Boba's chair suddenly flashed to life, and a high-pitched alarm rang through the ship. "Dad!" Boba exclaimed excitedly, pointing toward an image of a small ship on the display, "I think we're being followed!"

Jango immediately recognized the sleek, wedge shaped ship as the sensors displayed its image on the screen. "Well, well," he said flatly. "He must've placed some sort of tracking device on our hull. This guy doesn't seem to take a hint."

Jango turned his attention back to the controls of his ship. "Power up the cannons, Boba," he said. "We're moving into the asteroid field. Once we're in there, we'll lose him." He smiled wryly at his son. "And we'll have a few surprises for him."

Boba's eyes flashed as he smiled back at his father, and Jango quickly swung the ship up and around the first asteroid and made their way into the field.

Anakin peered cautiously around the corner of the thatched hut toward the nearby campfire. He squeezed Padmé's hand, and she pressed herself close to the hut's wall and stood there motionless beside him.

She held his hand tightly, as tightly as she ever had. She could feel herself trembling slightly, and she realized for the first time this evening that she was afraid. She had heard the horror stories of the Tusken raiders, heard the tales of their cruelty and merciless torture of the poor souls who had the misfortune to be captured by them. For a brief moment, she almost wished that she had heeded Anakin's request and remained at the house with Clieg, Owen, and Beru.

No; she couldn't allow herself to give in to fear, not now. Anakin needed her, and she needed to be here with him. She looked at him as he peered around the corner of the hut, his tall, dark-clad figure silhouetted against the hut by the moonlight. His sandy blonde hair shone with bright contrast to his dark Jedi garb, and she could see the hilt of his lightsaber shining brightly in his free hand. She squeezed his hand again, and she smiled as he instinctively returned it, clasping her hand tighter. She felt her fear begin to subside as she began to sense his love and concern for her through that reassuring touch.

Anakin could feel the Force leading him to Shmi, could sense her vibrations stronger now. He had followed it like a needle on a compass as they had made their way silently into the Tusken camp. Now, as he watched the two guards at the nearby campfire, he knew that she was close. He looked across the narrow path toward the two nearby huts; they were larger and the Tuskens appeared to be guarding them closely. Shmi was in one of those huts, he was sure of it.

He reached into the Force, closing his eyes for a moment, then nodded toward the two guards. Almost instantly, they stood up, their gaffi sticks raised in alarm, and then ran quickly down the path away from Anakin and Padmé.

Anakin turned to Padmé. "They must've heard something," he said softly, a sly smile on his lips.

"Really?" Padmé asked, returning his mischievous smile. "I can't imagine what."

Anakin looked back down the path and watched as the two guards disappeared around the far end of the camp. "Come on," he said, and the two of them ran quietly across the path toward the two large huts.

Anakin paused for a moment, stretching out with his feelings into the Force. Almost instantly, he opened his eyes and led Padmé to the second hut. "She's here," he said quietly, and Padmé released his hand and took a step back as he ignited the blade of his lightsaber and began to cut an opening in the thatch wall.

The cut complete, he extinguished the blade of his saber and placed it quickly back on his belt, then kicked the smoldering piece of thatch through the wall. He quickly stepped inside, and Padmé followed closely behind him.

Padmé was still crouched, making her way through the makeshift entrance, when she heard Anakin's voice call out in despair.

"Mom!"

Padmé felt her heart begin to sink as her eyes took in the terrible sight before her. There, in the center of the tent, tied to a large wooden pole, was Shmi. Her battered and bloodied body hung limply, her arms tied to the wooden pole with rough pieces of rope and leather straps. The back of her dress was torn and shredded, and her back bore the cuts and bruises of the merciless beatings that the Tuscans had inflicted on her.

Padmé and Anakin stood still for a moment, not believing the site before them, and then they both ran quickly to Shmi's side.

"Mom?" Anakin said, the anguish he felt clearly audible in his cracking voice. "Mom, can you hear me?"

Shmi weakly opened her eyes and glanced around the hut, but all she could manage was a barely audible moan as she closed them again and went limp. Padmé and Anakin worked feverishly to free her from the straps and ropes that held her to the rough wooden frame, and Shmi winced in pain as her arms fell free and she collapsed into Anakin's arms.

Anakin caught her limp body and fell backwards against the hard ground, and he cradled her gently in his arms as Padmé knelt beside him.

Padmé's heart was breaking, and she felt tears stinging her eyes as she saw the anguished look on Anakin's face. "Mom?" Anakin said softly, gently stroking his mother's dirty, matted hair. "Mom, can you hear me?"

Shmi opened her eyes again, as she glanced around the room, trying to find the voice that called to her. She finally focused her eyes on Anakin's face, and a look of genuine bewilderment spread across her bruised and battered face. "Ani?" she said faintly, lifting her hand toward his face. "Ani?"

Anakin smiled back at her fondly as a tear rolled slowly down his cheek. "It's me, Mom," he said, "I'm here."

Shmi looked at him, barely able to believe that what she was seeing was real. "Ani?" she asked again, as she touched his cheek gently. "Ani, is it really you?"

Padmé fought back her own tears as she knelt next to Anakin, gently holding onto his shoulder as he cradled his mother in his arms. "It's me, Mom," Anakin smiled in reply. "I'm here, I've come to take you home. Everything's going to be just fine."

Shmi smiled at him proudly. "Oh, how handsome you are," she said softly. "You look just like I imagined you would."

Anakin returned her smile as another tear rolled down his cheek. Through the Force, he could feel how weak his mother's life force had become. She was barely holding on now, and he fought with all his might to keep her from slipping away.

"It's going to be alright, Mom," he reassured her. "You're going to be fine. We've come to take you back home."

"We?" Shmi asked, weakly; she took a deep, rasping breath, and then turned her eyes to Padmé. She smiled, and Padmé did the same as she reached out and took Shmi's hand as she extended it to her.

"It's you," Shmi said, weakly, as she squeezed Padmé's hand. "Oh, I always... always knew that I'd see you again."

"It's going to be okay, Shmi," Padmé said, very softly, as she squeezed her hand in reply.

"I know," Shmi whispered, with a weak nod of her head. "Take care of him for me," she said, very softly, as she gazed quietly at Padmé. "I'll rest... I'll rest easier, knowing that you're there to... to take care of him."

Padmé could barely see, through the haze of tears that filled her eyes. "I will, Shmi," she whispered, as she cupped Shmi's hand in both of her own. "I promise."

Shmi turned her eyes back to Anakin again, and gazed at him, a contented smile on her face. "My grown up son," she said softly. "I'm so proud of you, Ani," she said. "So very proud of you."

"Stay with me, Mom," Anakin pleaded with her, as he felt Shmi's life force being to slip slowly away. "Don't leave us. Everything's going to be fine, you'll see."

Padmé could barely see from the tears that stood in her own eyes as she knelt by his side. There was nothing she could say, nothing she could do, other than to place her arm tightly around his shoulder, to let him know that she was here with him. Shmi was saying goodbye, that much was clear to her, and the pain of that knowledge was more than she could bear. She buried her face in Anakin's shoulder, sobbing softly, and pulled him to her as tightly as she could.

Anakin's own smile faded as Shmi took a deep breath and tried to speak.

"Now I am complete," Shmi said softly. She took another shallow breath.

"I love..."

Shmi's voice caught in her throat, and she took another shallow breath.

"I love you..."

Shmi's smile faded, and she collapsed limply in Anakin's arms. She was gone.

Anakin felt a wave of despair like he'd never known sweep over him as he gazed at his mother's limp, lifeless body. As the tears began to stream down his face, he reached gently up with his free hand and closed his mother's eyes, then ran his fingers gently along her cheek.

This couldn't be happening, he thought. This wasn't right; his mother's life wasn't supposed to end like this. He was supposed to save her, to protect her. He had promised her that he would come back and save her, hadn't he? He had never broken a promise to anyone before, much less his mother. This wasn't right; how could the Tuskens, even as cruel and primitive as they were, have subjected a woman as innocent and precious as his own mother to such mindless torture?

The wave of despair that had overtaken him slowly began to be replaced by a darker, more sinister emotion. He knew it was wrong; Master Obi-Wan had told him long ago of the dangers of anger, of fear, of aggression. All of these emotions led to the Dark Side of the Force. He tried to resist them, tried to remember what his master had taught him, tried to turn away from the temptation of revenge.

He gazed at his mother's lifeless body again. How could he let an act so horrible, so unspeakable, go unpunished? He felt himself giving in, felt himself willingly slipping into submission to the anger that grew so quickly inside of him.

Padmé felt him stir, and she lifted her head from his shoulder, her face wet with tears, as she watched him lay his mother's body gently on the ground in front of him. "Anakin?" she said, softly. "Anakin, are you alright?"

Anakin said nothing as he gently folded Shmi's arms on her chest, and then sat quietly for a moment, staring at her.

Padmé could sense that something was wrong. "Ani," she said again, softly. "Ani, can you hear me? Are you alright?"

Again, Anakin said nothing, and Padmé felt a cold chill run through her body as she saw his hand reach under his tunic and saw the hilt of his lightsaber flash brightly in the lantern's pale light.

Instantly, she knew what he intended. "Anakin," she said, "Anakin, no!"

Anakin squeezed the hilt of his lightsaber tightly in his hand as he started to stand up. "They have to pay," he said, coldly, flatly. "They have to pay for what they've done."

Padmé held tightly to his shoulders as she pleaded with him. "Anakin, no," she said. "It's not right. You can't do this, you know that!"

"They're animals," Anakin said, and then turned his eyes toward hers. "And I intend to punish them like animals!"

Padmé looked into his eyes. She had never seen such anger, such hatred, such blind rage as she saw in those eyes now. Something was wrong, of that much she was certain. How could those eyes, those eyes that were always so full of love, so full of happiness, now be so full of hatred, so full of pure, unbridled rage?

Anakin turned his eyes back toward the door of the hut. The rage had consumed him now, and he felt a wave of power overtake him like he had never felt before. A dark shroud fell over his eyes, and he felt as though he were inside a dark cloud, almost watching himself from outside, as he turned the lightsaber over in his hand and began to rise and head toward the door.

Through the overpowering wave of rage, deep in the recesses of his mind, he heard a voice calling to him. He paused, perched on one knee, as he listened to that faint voice speak to him.

Padmé got up from behind Anakin and dropped to her knees in front of him, placing her hands tightly on his shoulders. Tears streamed down her face as she pleaded with him, begged him to listen to her.

"Anakin Skywalker, you listen to me," she said forcefully. "This isn't right. You can't do this!"

Anakin stared past her, his eyes still fixed on the door to the hut, toward the place he needed so desperately to go, to meet out the punishment his mother's tormentors so richly deserved.

"I have to," he said angrily, his eyes flashing with rage in the dim lantern light. "I hate them! They all deserve to die!"

"Anakin, please!" Padmé pleaded with him. "You can't do this, it's not like you. Revenge is wrong, you know that. Your mother wouldn't want you to do this!"

Padmé took his angry, anguished face into her hands and turned him toward her own. With all her heart, she stretched her feelings out toward him, tried desperately to reach him through the anger and anguish that now filled his heart.

"Anakin," she pleaded with all her heart, "Please. I love you. You are my life. I almost lost you once, and I won't lose you now, not like this."

Anakin's icy, angry stare began to melt, as her words began to find their way through the dense cloud of anger and pain to his aching heart. Through the pain, his eyes finally focused on Padmé's anguished face. She was crying, begging, pleading with him.

"Please come back to me, Ani," she cried, gently stroking his cheek. "I need you, so much." She placed her free hand gently on his, the one that held his light saber. "I love you, Ani," she sobbed. "Please don't leave me."

Padmé felt Anakin's hand begin to tremble, and she looked down through her tears to see his grip loosen and watched the lightsaber roll from his hand onto the dirt floor beside him.

Anakin gazed at her as she turned her eyes back toward him. The rage was gone; he had heard her pleading voice, heard her words of devotion, of love, and had followed them through the dark cloud of anger back to her side. He suddenly felt so weak, and the realization of just how close he had come to the Dark Side sent a shiver of terror through his heart. He had come so close to losing everything, even her.

"Padmé," he said weakly, pulling her into his arms and wrapping them tightly around her, "I'm so sorry. I'm so very sorry..."

Padmé wrapped her arms around her beloved husband as tightly as she could; she had him back, she hadn't lost him, after all. "It's alright, Ani," she said softly, "I'm here."

They clung tightly to each other in the dim lantern light as, outside, the distant howl of the massiffs could be heard in the still night air.

Anakin gently stroked Padmé's long brown hair with his hands as he held her tightly in his arms.

He was a strong young man. Since he was a young boy, fear was something that he had rarely known in his life. The years spent racing pods for Watto had taught him that fear was something that could be controlled. Fear was a sign of weakness, Watto had taught him, and he had learned that lesson well. Too well, it seemed, for he and his master Obi-Wan had struggled over his strong-willed, fearless ways many times in the past. Bravery, Obi-Wan had insisted, was not to be confused with foolhardiness. Indeed, it would have taken a great deal to strike fear into the heart of Anakin Skywalker.

Yet now, as he held tightly to his precious Padmé, he was genuinely afraid. His brush with the Dark Side was still fresh on his mind, and he tried to banish the unthinkable knowledge of what would have happened had Padmé not reached him through that dark cloud of anger. The Dark Side had always seemed so distant, so shrouded in lore and mystery that it had seemed almost non-existent to him. Yet, even now, he could feel how close he had come to succumbing; the knowledge sent a cold shiver down his spine.

What frightened him even more, now, was the realization that they had to get out of here; more importantly, he had to get Padmé out of the Tusken camp. He had been so consumed by the search for his mother, he now realized, that he had given little thought to getting out of the camp at all.

Anakin took her hands in his, and smiled at her. "Are you okay?" he asked, gently wiping away the remaining tear that stood on her damp cheek.

Padmé took his hand from her cheek and kissed it gently. "Yes, I'm fine," she replied.

Anakin squeezed her hand in reply. "Come on," he said, running the sleeve of his tunic across his own face. "We've got to get out of here. The Tuskens will realize we're here any minute."

Padmé turned and looked at his lightsaber, it's brightly polished handle shining in the dim torch light. She picked it up thoughtfully, and turned it over in her hands. It seemed so benign, so unthreatening. She had always regarded it as a weapon, a tool of a Jedi Knight, nothing more; no more significant than a blaster pistol, and somewhat arcane and ancient, almost clumsy. As she looked at it now, however, she realized how powerful it could be in the hands of a Jedi, and how dangerous and threatening it could be if that Jedi Knight misused it.

She turned her eyes and regarded her husband thoughtfully as she held it in her hands. She had always known that he was gifted, that he was a very bright and talented young man. She had watched him at practice and been amazed by his Jedi skills. But now, for the first time, she truly realized how powerful he really was, and at the same time, she realized what a huge responsibility that power was.

Anakin watched at she took his hand and placed his weapon gently in his palm, then closed his hand around it, and squeezed it tightly.

"I believe this is yours," she said, softly, thoughtfully. "A Jedi Knight can't be without his weapon."

Anakin smiled at her in reply, then nodded slowly. Her message had been received, and understood.

Quickly, he returned his weapon to his belt, then turned and, very gently, picked up Shmi's lifeless body in his arms. He stood up, and then turned to Padmé as she stood beside him.

"Let's get out of here," he said, a look of grim determination on his face. "Stay close, and keep that blaster pistol ready."

Padmé nodded in reply, and, pulling her cape up tighter over her shoulders, followed Anakin out of the hut.

Anakin paused for a moment, leaning back against the thatched wall of the hut they had just reached. His breathing came in ragged gasps; the maze of huts was difficult enough to negotiate in silence, and even more so now that he was carrying his mother's body in his arms.

They were near the edge of the camp now; not too much further, he though, and he and Padmé would be able to reach the safety of the rocks at the edge of the field. Once there, they would make their way up the winding path where their speeder bike waited for them.

Padmé could see he was tired. She squeezed his arm gently. "Are you alright?" she asked, concerned. "You need to rest a minute."

Anakin smiled and shook his head. "I'll be alright," he said, "I'm just a little winded." He nodded his head firmly. "I'll be fine. We're almost out of here."

Anakin peered around the corner of the hut toward the cliff path. It was about 40 yards, he guessed, and it seemed clear; not a Tusken in sight.

He turned and nodded at Padmé. "Come on," he said. "It looks clear. Let's go."

Padmé nodded, squeezing the grip of her blaster pistol tightly in her hand. She took a deep breath and held it for just a moment, and then she followed closely behind him, as they made their way quietly from behind the hut, out into the open and toward the rocks near the base of the cliff.

They were about a third of the way across the open field when a loud, raspy cry broke the still night air. Padmé felt herself jump as a charge of adrenaline and fear shot through her body. Her mind flashed to the stories she had heard of the Tusken Raiders; "the cry of the raider can cause a dead man to leap to his feet and run," the old moisture farmers used to say. Though she had never heard such a cry before, she instinctively knew what it was, and the sound sent a cold wave of fear over her. Oh, no, she thought; they know we're here.

She and Anakin had frozen in their steps, both of them turning to look in the direction from which the ungodly howl had come. There, in the darkness, about thirty yards away, near one of the larger huts, she could see a tall, gangly Tusken raider screeching in alarm, his arms stretched over his head, his gaffi stick raised high. As he continued to howl, other Tuskens began to emerge from the nearby huts, each of them armed and chattering excitedly.

Padmé felt herself trembling. "Anakin," she said, just above a whisper.

"Oh, no," Anakin said, an exasperated tone in his voice. "Run, Padmé – RUN!"

As the Tuskens began to run toward them, Padmé and Anakin both began to run across the field, toward the path near the cliff's rocky face. Padmé felt her heart thumping wildly in her chest as she ran; she was fit and in good condition, and she found that she had no problem keeping pace with Anakin. She looked over her shoulder as she ran; the throng of Tuskens had grown considerably, and most of them were in close pursuit. She saw the gangly Tusken, the one who had spotted them; he wasn't chasing them. He was crouched on the ground, his weapon leveled at them. She turned her head back toward Anakin and the cliff face; if they could reach the safety of the rocks, she though, they should be fine.

It was an unusual sensation; she felt the impact, just as the energy bolt struck her in her right shoulder. She was confused, disoriented; What was that? she thought, her mind reeling, trying to understand what was happening. There was no real pain, just a tingling sensation that started at her shoulder and traveled quickly to her arms and legs. The force of the bolt was considerable, and it knocked her off balance, spinning her sideways. Instinctively, she felt herself cry out, more in surprise than fear, as she felt herself falling to the ground.

It was her cry that struck Anakin like a bolt of lightning, and he stopped in his tracks, turning toward her. Time seemed to stand still as, to his horror, he saw his beloved Padmé fall limply to the ground.

Through a blur of disorientation, Padmé struggled to get her bearings. Her entire right side was on fire now, both from the weapon blast and the impact of her body on the hard ground. She was frightened, now. Her head spun wildly, and she felt dizzy, dazed, disoriented. She knew something was wrong, something had happened, and her eyes searched the field frantically for Anakin. Where is he? she thought. Her mind raced with possibilities, none of them giving her any comfort. Oh God, they must've gotten to him. This can't be happening.

As she craned her neck searching for Anakin, she suddenly saw the throng of Tuskens running toward her. The lead raiders were almost upon her, their gaffi sticks raised high, ready to attack. All the nightmarish stories, all the terrible things she had heard, suddenly became all too real.

Padmé felt a sense of despair begin to flow over her, and she fought it off with all of her might. "No!" she shouted; she couldn't give up, couldn't stop fighting. Through a blur of pain, she picked up her blaster pistol with her left hand, leveling it in front of her toward the approaching Tuskens. She aimed, as well as she could, toward the nearest one and squeezed the trigger.

The blast struck the raider squarely in the chest, lifting him off his feet and sending him backwards, crashing to the ground. As quickly as she could, she leveled her weapon at the next one and fired. The first round missed him, but the second caught him mid-torso and sent him spinning to the ground, his weapon sailing through the air.

The Tuskens were closing on her now. I can't get them all, she thought to herself. The pain that surged through her right side was growing, and it was almost impossible to hold the blaster steady, to focus on a target. She felt herself slipping into the despair that dogged her. Lowering her pistol to the ground, she closed her eyes and opened her mouth to cry out in terror, steeling herself for what she knew was about to come.

"NOOOOO!"

Padmé heard Anakin's voice, loud and angry. She opened her eyes, just in time to see him leap in front of her, and watched as the brilliant blue blade of his lightsaber blazed to life and, with a quick downward thrust, brought a swift end to the first of the two closest raiders. As the second raised his weapon and lunged at Anakin, he spun quickly, bringing his blade around and into the Tusken's midsection. Padmé grimaced as the unfortunate raider seemed to pause in surprise for a brief second, then fall neatly into two halves on the cold, hard ground. Surprised and caught off guard, the Tuskens took a step back, eyeing their prey. Anakin stood defensively, between Padmé and the onrushing throng of angry raiders. The bright, blue blade of his lightsaber glowed brightly at his side, as he stood motionless in the face of the angry mob.

Anakin shook his head slowly. "No," he growled, menacingly. "Get away from her."

Two of the lead raiders cried out angrily, and they raised their gaffi sticks to bring them down on him. Almost effortlessly, Anakin swung his blade up and struck the both of them down in an instant, then withdrew a step closer to Padmé.

What's he doing? Padmé thought to herself as she watched him. Anakin's moves were measured, defensive. He wasn't pressing his attack; he was protecting her from them, defending her, repelling their attackers. Four more Tuskens pressed their attack against him, and they met the same fate just as quickly, again, Anakin backed off, stepped closer to Padmé.

He isn't attacking them, Padmé realized. He's protecting us, fighting defensively. After all he's been through tonight, he's not attacking.

"Enough!" Anakin shouted suddenly, and then stretched his hand out in front of him, and, through a blur of growing pain, Padmé watched in amazement as the front line of advancing Tuskens were picked up into the cool night air and tossed backwards, like leaves in a storm, into the ones behind them.

Taking advantage of their surprise and confusion, Anakin turned his attention to a large, jagged boulder nearby, and, reaching into the Force, lifted it into the air and brought it sailing toward the group of terrified raiders scrambling to regain their footing. As they cried out and shielded themselves, the boulder suddenly stopped, suspended in mid-air, just inches above the frightened raiders. Anakin held the boulder over their heads for brief instant, then sent it crashing into a nearby hut, destroying it.

Frightened and disoriented, the Tuskens paused for a moment, then slowly began to retreat back toward the huts they had emerged from just moments before.

Anakin extinguished the blade of his saber, then turned and quickly knelt by Padmé's side. She winced in pain as he gently scooped her up and cradled her in his arms.

"Padmé?" he called, frantically, gently brushing her hair from her face. "Padmé, please. Talk to me."

Padmé clutched tightly to his arm with her left hand. "Oooooohhhhh," she moaned and winced with pain. "It hurts. Really bad."

"I know it does, Padmé," Anakin replied, cradling her gently in his arms. "I need to check your shoulder and see how bad it is." He brushed her forehead gently, sweeping the hair from her face so she could see him better. "This is probably going to hurt a little bit. Ready?"

Padmé nodded that she was, and she clenched her teeth as Anakin leaned her up so that he could see her wounded shoulder. Anakin's heart ached as she cried out from the pain as he moved her.

"Oooooooooohhhh," she cried, "Oh, Ani, it hurts."

"I'm so sorry, Padmé," he sympathized, and he held her tightly in his arms as she clung to him tightly. He held her still for a moment, letting her rest until the pain subsided a bit, then turned his attention to the burned material at her shoulder.

"OoooowwWWWW!" Padmé cried in pain as Anakin gently pulled the charred material away from her wound. He hugged her tightly with his right arm as he gently examined her wound.

She had taken a full powered laser round right in the shoulder. Anakin winced as he saw it; a burn this size had to be terribly painful, yet, except for when he moved her, she never cried out from the pain. Fortunately, her shoulder itself had taken the brunt of the blast, and it didn't look life threatening. She would need a skin graft, though, and treatment soon, otherwise infection could set in.

Anakin reached into his belt and produced a small antiseptic spray. "Padmé," he said, "this might sting a bit. But it should help the pain and keep your wound clean."

"Is it bad?" Padmé asked, an obvious worried tone in her voice. She clung to Anakin as tightly as she ever had.

"No, Angel," Anakin replied softly. "It's not serious. You're going to be just fine."

Padmé smiled, as she heard what he called her; she winced as he applied the medication to her burn. It did sting, badly, for just a moment, and then the anaesthetic began to work, and she felt some welcome relief from the searing pain that surged through her shoulder and back.

"I'll say one thing for you," Anakin sighed, trying to lift her spirits for a brief moment as he tended to her wound. "You definitely weren't going down without a fight, were you?"

Padmé managed a weak laugh. "My husband's a Jedi Knight," she said, holding tightly to him. "I couldn't let him see me lay there and give up."

Anakin applied another vial of antiseptic spray to her shoulder, then let her recline slowly back in his arms. He held on to her tightly as she smiled weakly up at him. "You're quite the fighter, I'll give you that," he sighed, brushing her brown hair from her face. He leaned forward and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you," he said softly, just above a whisper.

Padmé smiled weakly, and then winced again from the remaining pain. "I'm not going anywhere, don't worry," she said softly.

Anakin smiled at her reply, and then pointed up to the sky above them. "See?" he said, raising an eyebrow, "just you and me, out for a lovely stroll on a beautiful starlit night."

Padmé managed a weak laugh. "I think we need to work on the places that we pick for our outings," she said as she smiled back at him.

"Yeah, I didn't do too good a job when I picked this one, and I'm sorry," he nodded, then reached into his belt and produced the small transmitter he kept there. "I promise, I'll do better next time. Right now, I've got to get you home."

Anakin pressed a button on the transmitter, and it blinked to life. A moment later, Padmé heard Artoo's familiar whistle on the other end. "Artoo," Anakin called, "It's Anakin. Are you receiving me?"

Artoo whistled in acknowledgement that he was indeed, and Anakin continued. "I need you to bring the ship here, fast," he said. "Padmé's been hurt. Lock onto my transmitter coordinates and get here as quickly as you can. Understood?"

A long string of beeps, whistles and clicks followed. Anakin smiled at Padmé as he replied. "Yes, Artoo," he said, "she's going to be just fine. Just hurry and get here as quick as you can. And bring Owen and Beru with you."

Anakin switched the homing beacon in the transmitter on, then placed it back on his belt. "Just hold on a few minutes," he said softly, wrapping his arms around her tightly. "He'll be here any minute, and we'll get you out of here. Just lie still and rest."

Padmé closed her eyes, pressed herself tightly to his chest, and drifted in and out of consciousness as she lay there, in his arms, under the bright Tatooine sky.

Padmé awoke to the hiss of the ship's door as Anakin hurriedly carried her aboard and laid her gently on the long, padded bench in the ship's cabin. She blinked her eyes in the bright light, and saw Beru's smiling face looking down at her. "You'll be fine, Padmé," she said, reassuringly. "Don't worry."

Padmé held tight to Anakin's hand as the medical droid they had brought with them gave her an injection of pain medication. Mercifully, the medication took affect quickly, and the last thing she remembered was Anakin's concerned face gazing down at her as he knelt beside her, then, mercifully, she drifted off to sleep.

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