Slavery takes away more one form of freedom. Most beings take for granted
that they have limitless time. Time to let themselves be molded by
experiences and relationships. When one is a slave, one is stripped of that
luxury. You have to grow up, and decide who you are, incredibly fast. It is
a given, a vital part of a slave's life.
Anakin Skywalker was no different, born a slave on a world where slavery is just another block in the city that is the way of things. He had had to choose who he was at a very young age.
That did not change who he wanted to be, but who he was, knew that such dreams had to be put aside, tucked aside in the corner of the mind escaped to only during sleep. So close, yet so far away.
Until now. Now.there was no limit to what could happen. Sitting in a lounge on starship bound for Couruscant. A starship! The very word sent tingles down the young man's spine.
He had already pestered the pilot and co-pilot till, as politely as possible in their annoyed state, they asked him to leave. And he had thoroughly explored the ship top to bottom.
At the moment he was starting to get bored. If he was at home he would he have something electronic to fiddle with, keep his hands busy. He looked up at the ceiling and began to count the metal tiles, seeking any way to occupy his mind.
If only Padme would happen to walk in.
As if by magic, she did walk in! Anakin realized his jaw was hanging and quickly closed it. He was practically giddy with glee at his good luck.
The teenaged girl walked over to the computer terminal, the silky fabric of her dress swishing against the cold metal floor, and activated a holo recording of an old man.
Quick.think up a way to play on her feminine side.
Schooling his features into a mask of melancholy sadness, he slumped into a huddled ball and waited for her to notice him.
It didn't take long. "Are you alright?" she asked, concerned.
Expertly adding a shiver to the act, he spoke in his most dismal sounding voice, "It's very cold."
Padme fetched a blanket hurried to cover him with it.
He could have shouted with delight at how well this was going. But one thing wasn't right.she was.depressed. He frowned, this wouldn't do. "What's wrong?"
Padme sighed and paused, considering how to answer, "The queen is worried."
Anakin just couldn't take it anymore, his gloomy mask cracked into a broad grin.
"What?" she asked, frowning at his sudden turn-around.
His grin widened, "Do you know how sexy it is when you talk in the third person?"
Anakin Skywalker was no different, born a slave on a world where slavery is just another block in the city that is the way of things. He had had to choose who he was at a very young age.
That did not change who he wanted to be, but who he was, knew that such dreams had to be put aside, tucked aside in the corner of the mind escaped to only during sleep. So close, yet so far away.
Until now. Now.there was no limit to what could happen. Sitting in a lounge on starship bound for Couruscant. A starship! The very word sent tingles down the young man's spine.
He had already pestered the pilot and co-pilot till, as politely as possible in their annoyed state, they asked him to leave. And he had thoroughly explored the ship top to bottom.
At the moment he was starting to get bored. If he was at home he would he have something electronic to fiddle with, keep his hands busy. He looked up at the ceiling and began to count the metal tiles, seeking any way to occupy his mind.
If only Padme would happen to walk in.
As if by magic, she did walk in! Anakin realized his jaw was hanging and quickly closed it. He was practically giddy with glee at his good luck.
The teenaged girl walked over to the computer terminal, the silky fabric of her dress swishing against the cold metal floor, and activated a holo recording of an old man.
Quick.think up a way to play on her feminine side.
Schooling his features into a mask of melancholy sadness, he slumped into a huddled ball and waited for her to notice him.
It didn't take long. "Are you alright?" she asked, concerned.
Expertly adding a shiver to the act, he spoke in his most dismal sounding voice, "It's very cold."
Padme fetched a blanket hurried to cover him with it.
He could have shouted with delight at how well this was going. But one thing wasn't right.she was.depressed. He frowned, this wouldn't do. "What's wrong?"
Padme sighed and paused, considering how to answer, "The queen is worried."
Anakin just couldn't take it anymore, his gloomy mask cracked into a broad grin.
"What?" she asked, frowning at his sudden turn-around.
His grin widened, "Do you know how sexy it is when you talk in the third person?"