Chapter 8
Tatooine

It was just how he remembered it. A golden-and-brown orb that shone with reflected sunlight against the pitch darkness of space. It was a vision of his personal Hell and former prison. It was Tatooine. Home sweet home.

Sighing noisily, Vader took the control stick and pressed the nose down into the atmosphere after jettisoning the hyperspace booster ring into orbit. As he grew closer to the ground, he set a course for the spaceport of Mos Espa. Once he got there, he could pay Watto a visit and check-up on his mother. If his vision was true (he was pretty sure that it was), he would take care of it.

He set the red and white Starfighter down in an open docking bay and locked it down to keep thieves and Jawas out of it. With a few quick instructions to Arfour, he was striding across the sands of the landing pad and out onto the street. And from there he went on memory, heading back to the site of the majority of his life as a slave.

When he got there, Watto was perched out front, struggling to repair a broken pit droid. The greasy blue Toydarian was fatter and scruffier-looking than Vader remembered. The scummy alien was clearly in a bad mood and impatiently knocked the other pit droids around as he continually failed to fix the broken droid.

"Hey there Watto! What's up?" Vader smirked, sliding easily into Huttese.

"Eh, what? Who the Hell are you?" Watto demanded, suspicious.

"Here, let me help you with that." Vader offered, pulling the droid away from Watto and fixing it himself.

Watto squinted up at Vader warily. "What do you want?"

"I've come for information." Vader replied.

"What sort of information?" Watto growled. Then he caught a glimpse of Vader's silvery Jedi lightsaber and panicked. "Whatever it was, I didn't do it! I swear!"

"I'm not after you. I want to know where Shmi Skywalker is." Vader snorted, annoyed at his former owner's cowardice.

The Toydarian blinked, then squinted thoughtfully up at Vader. "Ani?" Watto whispered. When Vader failed to deny it and set the perfectly repaired droid on the table, the Toydarian grinned, fluttering up off his bench. "Ani, long time no see! Look at you, eh? A Jedi?"

"Where is my mother Watto?" Vader demanded.

"Oh, eh, your mother? Well, uh, I'm sorry Ani, but I got into lots of debts and… I had to sell her." Watto shrugged nervously, his eye fixed on Vader's lightsaber hilt.

Vader fought back a surge of anger. "Who did you sell her to?"

"Ah, a moisture farmer. Lars, I think his name was. Lives on the other side of Mos Eisley." Watto replied.

"Could you be more specific?" Vader growled.

"Uh, let me check my records, I'm sure I have it somewhere." Watto grumbled, fluttering back inside his dim cool shop.

Vader sighed with aggravation before following the Toydarian inside. Why can't I ever have it easy?

A few hours later, he settled his Starfighter outside a small, half-buried farmstead. After powering it down, he hopped out of the cockpit and headed for the door of the little domed house. On his way, he passed a grimy protocol droid that, at one point, had been silver. He didn't really pay any attention to it, until it greeted him, that is.

"Greetings sir, I am C–" It began in a prissy voice.

"Threepio?" Vader paused, staring in disbelief. When the Count had carried him off he still hadn't found all coverings for the droid he'd built for his mother.

"Why-why Master Anakin!" Threepio exclaimed joyfully. "The Maker! I never thought I'd see you again!"

"Hey Threepio," Vader grinned weakly, feeling oddly off-balance as he was confronted with such a big piece of his past. "Where's Mom?"

"Oh, oh dear," Threepio fussed, suddenly becoming worried. "Please follow me."

Vader swallowed and trailed after his old droid. He was suddenly overcome by dread. I have a bad feeling about this…

Threepio led him to a sunken courtyard and a pair of young people, a man and a woman. "Master Owen, Mistress Beru" the droid greeted, "it is my great pleasure to introduce my Maker, Anakin Skywalker."

"I've heard of you," Owen nodded, fiddling with some towel. "I'm Owen Lars and…well…I guess I'd be your step-brother." He shrugged.

Vader blinked stupidly. Um, what?

"This is my girlfriend, Beru Whitesun." Owen nodded to the pretty blonde woman.

"Hi," Vader muttered warily, still confused. "I'm, uh, looking for my Mom."

"Right, you'll want to talk to my father then, this way." Owen muttered, heading inside the house with his girlfriend at his heels.

Vader bit his lip and followed after the girlfriend. If it was possible, his feelings on this situation got even worse. I'm really not liking this…not one bit.

His sudden, mysterious 'step-brother' brought him to a bedroom. Lying on the bed was an older man, pale and ill-looking. Beneath the sheets his right leg came to a sudden stop at the knee and one of his arms was swathed in thick gauzy bandages. Vader clung desperately to the last shreds of calm he possessed, willing himself not to panic.

"Hey Dad, Anakin's here." Owen whispered.

The man struggled upright in his bed and Beru helped prop him up with some pillows. Grimacing in pain, he extended his un-bandaged arm for Vader to shake. "Cliegg Lars, this is my farm." The man rasped. "Shmi's told me a lot about you, and I always hoped to get the chance to meet you."

"Er…" Vader blinked.

"I'll explain," Cliegg sighed wearily, picking up on Vader's confusion. "When I first bought your mother, I only meant for her to work my garden after my first wife had died. But as I got to know her, I came to love and respect her, so I set her free. I expected her to leave and make her own way, but she stayed, and eventually we married and she became my son Owen's step-mother. And, she told us all about you." The man paused for breath, and looked sad.

"Everything was going well for us. And then, one day, Shmi got up early and went to pick the mushrooms that grow on the vaporators, just like she always did. From the tracks, the Tuskens got her on the way back home. I gathered up a group of other farmers…to try and get her back…but only three of us survived. And, well, look at me," he waved weakly at himself.

"It's been over a week. There's no way she could've survived so long." He fisted his good hand. "Those Tuskens, they walk like men, but they're animals." Cliegg squeezed his eyes shut to ward off tears, but when he opened them again, Vader had vanished.

"Where did he go?"

Vader hunched low over the handlebars of the swoop bike he'd 'borrowed'. In the west, the suns were setting, but he barely noticed. His hard blue eyes were fixed on the rocky wastes, the badlands where most of the Tusken Raider tribes could be found.

They might've given up hope, but I haven't. They can't help you, but I can. I'll find you Mom, and I'll save you. I promise…