Chapter 6: A Gambling Man

The black robe whipped around the thing, nimble legs of a Dathomirian woman. She scolded at the sand that pecked her legs. She hated sand. In fact, she hated the planet. The heat was unbearable and the emptiness around her reminded her of death. Who would want to live on such a planet was beyond her.

She pulled out her binoculars and zoomed in on the town in the distance. It was more like a sprawling city. That is where the Force was leading to her. Her journey started in that city.

She clicked on a remote and two flying, black orbs came zooming out from her ship. She hit another button and the orbs shot off toward the city.

Her lips peeled back to a predatory smile. Her ascension was coming soon.

When Obi-Wan woke up the following morning, he found Anakin and Padmé sitting on chunks of what used to be a wall. Artoo chirped beside them as he wobbled to get closer. Anakin smiled and chuckled at whatever Artoo said. Obi-Wan stretched his arms over his head, feeling the aches and pains in his joints from sleeping in an unpleasant environment.

His movements caught Anakin's attention. "Come join us, Obi-Wan!" he said. "Padmé got us breakfast."

Obi-Wan stiffly waddled over, spying the bits of bread they each had in their hands. "How did we come by this?" he questioned, taking the piece Anakin handed to him.

"I sold my hairpin," Padmé answered his inquiry. "It wasn't worth much, but we needed food."

She was right. They hadn't eaten since yesterday morning and already his stomach growled at the hesitancy to gobble up the bread. Obi-Wan bit and chewed on a small piece. "Thank you," he said. "I'm sorry you had to sell something."

Padmé shrugged. "It wasn't anything," she replied, nibbling on her own piece. "What's the plan? If they don't take Republic credits, I don't see how we can get off this planet."

The unsolvable problem. Obi-Wan mulled over their predicament throughout the night. At his lowest point, he considered contacting Master Yoda. It put great risk for him and Anakin, but at least the Queen would be rescued. Unless, Master Yoda informed the rest of the Council—including Dooku—and then both them and the Queen would be in danger. In the end, Obi-Wan didn't think it was worth the risk. It's not that he didn't trust Master Yoda for help. He didn't trust him enough to believe in him. After all, Master Yoda didn't heed his words when he told him of his worries when he was still a padawan.

Obi-Wan bit into his bread. "I thought about it overnight and I came to only one possible solution."

Anakin, Padmé and Artoo-Detoo sat readied and attentive.

"One of the main trades here is gambling," He informed the group. "If we can bet on something and win, we may earn money to buy that generator."

Padmé sent him a scrutinizing look. "You are placing all our hopes and any chance of survival on a gamble?"

"It's not ideal, but it's better than other options."

"We could try contacting the Senate?" Padmé suggested. "Inform them of our situation and send help?"

"I thought about that, but… that would only notify the Trade Federation of the Queen's location," Obi-Wan said before warning. "Tell one secret, then it's bound to travel."

Padmé crossed her arms. "Well I don't like gambling our situation into a deeper mess. Besides, we don't have anything to offer."

Carrying only Republic credits, Obi-Wan knew she had a point. The only thing valuable they had was the droid and of course, Obi-Wan's lightsaber. He knew his lightsaber would sell big in the black market. Seeing as Obi-Wan could not gamble away the Queen's prized droid, that only left Obi-Wan's lightsaber.

"We have one thing," Obi-Wan claimed, softly, and he pulled out his lightsaber from his belt. "This may help us get some money."

Padmé and Anakin gazed at the metal cylinder. "Obi-Wan… you can't trade that!" Anakin proclaimed. "That lightsaber is your life!"

Yes, he remembered explaining to Anakin about the importance of a lightsaber. But at the moment, there were far other things more important to his life than his weapon. "It's all right Anakin," he reassured the boy. "Sometimes one must let go of something for the greater good. Even if it hurts."

Anakin wanted to argue, but Obi-Wan gave him a sharp look and Anakin fell into a silent defeat. They finished their breakfast quickly and were back on the streets looking somewhere to trade the lightsaber for the best price. They lingered outside a shop, contemplating if it was the best option when a dark-skinned boy around Anakin's age approached them. "You thinkin' of trading for something?"

Obi-Wan cleared his dry throat. "Yes, we were hoping to make a bargain. Do you work here?"

The boy nodded. "It's my master's shop."

His words struck them. The little boy, not much older than Anakin, was a slave. The conversation got awkward and saddening at the same moment. Anakin frowned severely while Padmé looked at the boy with great pity. And Obi-Wan, he felt ashamed. "Is your… master around?"

The boy shook his head. "No, he's getting ready for the big race."

"What race?" Anakin asked.

The boy stared at them with a laughable disbelief. "What race?" he exclaimed, shocked. "The Boonta Eve Classic of course! It's the most popular race in the world! Everyone around comes to watch. It's basically a holiday."

"What do they race?"

"Podracers," the boy answered. "You must be Offworlders. Almost all the shops are closed for the day. You aren't going to get anything today."

That was disappointing news. Obi-Wan wasn't sure if they could last another day in the city. "Is there any place we can somehow obtain a trade or some sort bargain?"

The dark haired child scratched his head. "Well, no… but!" he said as he gestured them to come closer. "I overheard of your problems. You carry only Republic credits."

If this slave boy knew of their dilemma, how many others knew? Obi-Wan thought.

The boy still whispered. "If you want that generator, the only way to get it fairly from Watto is betting," he answered. "He's a betting being. He'll rip you off if you pay with money. The best way is to bet."

That seemed fitting for a creature like Watto. The greedy Toydarian would be easy enough to manipulate into a bet. "Where can I find him?"

"He'll be at the cantina," the boy pointed yonder. "Be careful though. He likes to cheat."

"Thank you my friend," Obi-Wan said to the boy. "What is your name?"

"Kitster."

"Thank you Kitster," Obi-Wan said. "I wish you all the best in life."

He could say or promise no more to the poor, slave boy. Obi-Wan wished he could help Kitster and others, but starting a slave revolt would only jeopardize their mission to help the Queen of Naboo. He and company trooped over to the cantina Kitster pointed. Upon entering, they found themselves in a surge of an exuberant and seedy crowd. It was dark like a cavern with only a few spots of light here and there at packed tables. They slipped further in, scanning the heads of the patron until they spotted Watto in a corner table. His table was the loudest. He and several distasteful beings surrounded him as they drank pitchers of brown liquid that was so pungent Obi-Wan's nostrils burned before he even got within a yard from Watto.

Watto saw them heading toward him and slammed his glass down. "I told you would be crawling back to me!"

Obi-Wan ignored his brusque confidence. "I came to make a bet with you."

Watto's fellow patrons all chortled. Watto's wings fluttered in pure excitement. "What bet can you make? You have nothing. I know that. The whole city knows it."

"Not everything," Obi-Wan removed his lightsaber from his belt and presented it to the Toydarian. "I think you may find this valuable of some sort."

Watto peered at the lightsaber, studying it carefully. "A laser sword, eh? You think that's worth the amount of a hyperdrive generator?" he laughed. "Laser swords aren't worth as much as a generators!"

They were out of plans. Except for the desperate one. Obi-Wan resigned, realizing he must finally face the possibility that he and Anakin may be prisoners to the Jedi. Obi-Wan scooted from the table, focused on how to communicate to the Council, when Anakin rushed forward. "What about me?" he dared Watto. "Am I worth the same as a generator?"

The challenge shocked everyone. No free person ever volunteered their freedom for a bet. For Obi-Wan, it was an entirely different shock. He snatched Anakin's wrist. "What are you doing?"

Anakin yanked his wrist out of Obi-Wan's grip. "We need the generator. This is it!"

Suddenly, Watto and his companions all roared in laughter, their drinks splashing over their glasses. Watto slurped his drink and wiped his lips with his arm. "I strike that deal!"

Obi-Wan swatted Watto's hand away from Anakin. "He doesn't know what he's talking about," Obi-Wan roughly pulled Anakin aside, scolding, "What do you think you are doing?"

"Kitster is right!" Anakin declared. "Gambling is the only way to get the generator."

"Not with your freedom!"

"Ani, he's right," Padmé added. "Besides, we don't even know anything about podracing."

"I know a little," Anakin stated.

"That doesn't make you an expert," Obi-Wan snapped, anger rippling through him.

"I'm a great pilot! I can drive one of those!"

"Podracers are not like other ships, Anakin," Obi-Wan nearly shouted. A few customers glanced in their direction. Watto was grinning from ear to ear at the scene. Obi-Wan lowered his voice. "They're much faster. Very fast. No human has ever successfully piloted one."

A small smirk rose on Anakin's face. "Guess I gotta be the first."

A migraine overcame Obi-Wan. He rubbed his forehead, his thumb digging into the skull's grooves. "Anakin—I forbid you to do it."

And the smirk came crashing down. "Why is it that you can offer up your life but I can't?" he tested. "I can do this, Obi-Wan! I can feel it in the Force. It's telling me to do this!"

"Anakin enough!"

"NO!" Anakin shouted back, now gaining everyone's attention. Yet, Anakin's only looked at Obi-Wan. He was mad and hurt, the red tint in his cheeks gave it away. "You always tell me we need to think beyond ourselves and help those in need. Why won't you let me help?"

Obi-Wan's shoulders slumped. His voice cracking as he spoke. "Anakin, I can't gamble your freedom. I can't."

Anakin's face soften, but his stern resolve didn't fade. "I'm not asking you to."

Obi-Wan's heartbeat was erratic. It pulsed to an exploding doom. He knew how dangerous podracing was. He had seen holo-videos of races and the spectacular and gruesome crashes that killed pilots. Anakin's had only ever driven speeders, bikes and shuttle size ships. Not small pods with big engines that could go faster than 966 km/hr.

He looked into Anakin's blue eyes and saw the determination to do what he wanted to do. Forbidden or not, Anakin was going to do whatever he wanted. It wasn't because he rebelled to aggravate Obi-Wan. Anakin did whatever he could to help others. Even if it meant putting himself in perilous scenarios, much to Obi-Wan's poor heart. He tried to deter Anakin from such reckless behaviors, but the boy was stubborn at times and most determined. Especially when he was trying to impress someone. Like Padmé.

Struggling, Obi-Wan sought for the Force to guide him in his search for an answer. The Force, however, only gravitated to Anakin. It sung and bubbled around him. A bright light. Obi-Wan's shoulders drooped. He disliked the Force being against him, but he knew he should trust the Force even if it was against his wishes. He should even trust Anakin. The boy has yet to prove him wrong.

But he doesn't like it. He can't… he was never going to be a good Jedi. He threw that dream away the moment he accepted his position as Anakin's protector. He was no Jedi, no matter how much he practiced and repeated the Jedi motto. Obi-Wan simply cared too much for his own good.

He would never be a good Jedi.

After a long silence, Anakin took it as a sign to accept the challenge. Obi-Wan cringed at seeing the hand shake, turning away as Anakin struck a deal with the ugly creature. He snuck a glance at Padmé. She was silent, standing like a stone, her face rigid with intensity. She was displeased and mortified.

Anakin turned back to Watto. "If we win the podrace, we get the generator… and that protocol droid I saw in your dump."

Obi-Wan restrained himself from groaning. A protocol droid? He was throwing a protocol droid into this mess as well?

Watto greedily flapped closer to Anakin. "If I win, you become my slave."

Then, against Obi-Wan's heart, the deal was struck.

Dooku raised his cup to his lips, taking a small sip of herbal tea while Qui-Gon paced back in forth in front of him. It's been several hours since the Council meeting and Qui-Gon had yet to get in touch with Ventress. The silence from her end was indeed troubling, but Dooku wasn't going to fret over it like Qui-Gon was doing.

"She should have returned my messages," Qui-Gon said in a scathing tone. "If she kills them…"

"Then you may kill her," Dooku offered, putting his cup down. "Stop that insufferable pacing. You're ruining the rug."

Qui-Gon came to a halt and snapped to Dooku. "This is serious, Master! She should be able to receive my transmissions. That means she's avoiding the calls," he concluded and crossed his arms. "I should have gone to Tatooine. I don't know why you convinced me otherwise."

"Well, there's no point going now. Either Ventress killed them or the Jedi captured them," Dooku said, apathetic. "Either way, it's too late for you to go running off. Stay. Meditate if you must! But you cannot leave. Not with Yoda lurking about."

Qui-Gon scoffed. "You paranoia about Yoda will drive you mad."

"Just like your paranoia on Kenobi is driving you?" Dooku shot back. "My paranoia has some merit. If Yoda learns of our allegiance, then everything we've been building will end and you and I will be killed."

Dooku rose from his seat, brushing away any wrinkles from his cape. "Besides, think of this all as a test for your wayward padawan," he said, causing Qui-Gon to lift his brows in a quizzical manner. "If he manages to defeat Ventress, then he is worthy of our cause. If he's doesn't… then he was lucky to even live as long as he did."

Qui-Gon huffed, but he saw Dooku's statement as truth. "I guess we shall see whose apprentice wins," he commented to Dooku. "But, if I was a gambling man, I would bet on Obi-Wan."

Dooku restrained his eye roll. "Of course you would."

Dooku would have also voted for the young man. As Qui-Gon's padawan, he showed great promise. He felt in the Force. It's why he required Qui-Gon to bring the boy to Serenno often so that he may instruct Kenobi in the art of makashi. Kenobi was a quick leaner, a promising blade for their plan. Dooku was pleased with the boy's progress. When the boy ran away, Dooku searched for another replacement. Maul was promising, but Qui-Gon was right. Maul was an animal. Not so controllable and unpredictable. The next find was Ventress. She had a lot of vindictive anger toward the Jedi, which gave her a great hold of the Dark Side of the Force. Like Kenobi, she was intelligent and cunning, making her Dooku's most promising student after Qui-Gon.

If Kenobi had stayed, Dooku could only wonder how fearsome of a warrior he would have become.

Doesn't matter anymore about the what-ifs. By the end of the day, he and Qui-Gon would learn which apprentice will win: Ventress or Kenobi.

In either case, it was a win-win for him.

After striking the deal with Watto, Anakin suggested they go back to Kitster, in hopes he may have an idea on how to obtain a pod. It was good fortune that Kitster's master had a pod available to ride. Obi-Wan and Anakin sat with the master and Anakin miraculously convinced the slave master that he was an experience podracer. The master agreed, happy to have his pod participating in the race! There were certain details that needed ironing out. The slave master wanted to receive all the credits if Anakin won. Obi-Wan argued to obtain at least a quarter of the earnings. After a long argument, the slave master finally agreed. Anakin asked why Obi-Wan wanted the money if they only needed the generator.

"Because I think Kitster deserves some commission," Obi-Wan told him.

An hour later, Obi-Wan stood next to Anakin, passing him tools as his young friend tweaked the blue-streaked podracer. Artoo-Detoo was up near the engines, re-wiring on Anakin's instructions. Kitster, intrigued with the whole idea of a youngling racing, happily assisted Anakin with the seat alignment and belt.

The only person not joining them was Padmé.

She sat off to the side, her eyes burned in disapproval. Obi-Wan didn't blame her. He too wasn't happy about the plan, but the Force aligned with Anakin and the boy seemed positively stoked. Still, it didn't quell the tightness forming in his chest. He was worried for Anakin.

"Stop brooding, Obi-Wan," Anakin spoke out from under the pod. "It's not making me feel good."

Obi-Wan tried to squash his dampening mood, but it was not easy. His anxieties kept coming back with a vengeance. "I'm sorry."

Anakin pulled himself out from underneath. "It's all good there," he concluded. He dusted the sand away from his clothes and inspected the pod. "It's looking really good."

"If you say so."

Anakin elbowed Obi-Wan. "Come on! Don't you have some faith in me?"

"Of course I do!" Obi-Wan said, quietly. "Doesn't mean I cannot worry."

A loud speaker statically came on, announcing that racers needed to line their pods up. Anakin spun to Artoo. "Hey Artoo! You nearly done?"

Artoo-Detoo gave a cheerful beep. He connected two wires and then rolled away from the engines, happily beeping his approval. Kitster tugged on the seat belt, ensuring it would hold. "All good up here, Ani."

Anakin thanked the slave. "You did well Kitster," he said and then paused, looking somewhat shameful. "I wish there was more I could do for you."

Kitster shrugged. "That's okay. I may be a slave, but that doesn't mean I'm helpless," he said, confidently. "One of these days, I'm gonna be a majordomo."

Obi-Wan watched Anakin's face fall in confusion. "What's a major—?"

"Come on, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, not wanting Anakin to be more riled up on slavery than he already was. He needed to focus on the race. "We have to get this pod to the race."

With assistance from the officials' transportation, they lined their pod up with the others. They were all quite different from Anakin. First off, none of them were human. Second, they were all much older. All seemed to be at least in their twenties. Anakin was the lone outsider amongst a group of fierce and vile cheats. Obi-Wan muttered underneath his breath at the sight. The Force better not fail him. Or Anakin.

The announcer spoke again, reminding racers to get ready into their pods. A roar from the massive stands erupted as the announcers spoke about each racer, giving them fun, but inaccurate tidbits about each one. Obi-Wan took a deep breath. The Force's test was about to begin. For both of them.

"All right," Obi-Wan said as he took a knee so that he could look Anakin straight in the eye. He noticed the intensity, but steadiness of Anakin's concentration. That gave Obi-Wan some comfort. "Are you all set?"

Anakin nodded. "Yes. Got Artoo to fix the engines to increase the speed and I reprogrammed the brakes so that it won't be faulty."

Faulty brakes would be bad and Obi-Wan didn't want to imagine Anakin perishing in a flame of fire because his brakes failed him. "Good. Good," he said, commanding attention. "Now—podracing isn't like a joy ride. There are going to be dangers. Some more invisible than others. You must stay focus. Trust your instincts."

Anakin nodded again. "I will," he said. "I promise."

And that was all Obi-Wan could get. He hugged Anakin. Maybe a bit too tight, but Anakin returned the same amount of pressure. Then, Obi-Wan lifted Anakin up and placed him on the seat. Anakin situated himself and buckled in when Kitster passed the old battered helmet. Obi-Wan examined the dingy helmet that obviously seen more crashes than wins and reluctantly placed it on Anakin's head. "May the Force be with you."

Anakin smiled to Obi-Wan. "May the Force be with you too."

Obi-Wan backed away from the pod, but it was then that Padmé marched up to Anakin, hands clenched at her side. She was going to make her last stand. "You don't have to do this."

Anakin looked up. "Yes I do. It's the only way to get your ship fixed."

"But not at the cost of your freedom, or worse, death."

"I'm not afraid," Anakin said to her and Obi-Wan knew through the Force that Anakin was being truthful. The boy wasn't afraid. And that worried him the most. Anakin's constant fearlessness lead to recklessness and endangerment. No matter the lectures he gave to Anakin, the boy refused to establish any fear, charging forward without forethought. It irked Obi-Wan, mostly because he would have to go in and clean up Anakin's messes. He only hoped that this wouldn't end like all the others.

Padmé stared wordlessly at him for a moment. Almost as if she was trying to figure him out like a puzzle. "You are a very brave soul," she finally said. Then she leaned over the pod and gave a small kiss on Anakin's exposed cheek. "You carry all our hopes."

A pink tint shaded Anakin's cheeks as he jutted his lips out. "I won't let you down."

Padmé stared at him a little longer as if she was trying to capture that moment, and then moved back to where Obi-Wan, Kitster and Artoo-Detoo waited for her. They left Anakin's side and maneuvered their way to a viewing platform. As they were climbing up the staircase, they heard the guttural voice of Watto.

"You thinkin' you going to win?" he spat at Obi-Wan, his wings flapping wildly. "I got all my bets on Sebulba. Five-time champion of the Boonta Eve! You are going to lose, you Offworlders! And I'll earn a good slave!"

Watto then fluttered off, cackling in fits of greedily glee. Padmé turned to Kitster immediately. "Is that true?"

Kitster hesitated. "Well… Sebulba wins because he cheats. He wouldn't if it was fair though."

Padmé swirled to Obi-Wan. "We can't let him do this!"

"It is out of our hands," Obi-Wan stated and he started his climb again.

Padmé chased after him. "You're just going to let him do this? Risk his life? His freedom?"

Her accusations were grating on his nerves. "You think I'm happy with this? You were there! I spoke out, but Anakin will always do what he wants. Especially if it means helping people he cares about."

Padmé wrapped her arms around her waist. She looked ill. Her face paled and her brown eyes were larger than before as if she was about to cry.

Obi-Wan moved over to her side and slipped a hand on her shoulder. "He's trying to do the right thing," he explained. "Anakin—he has this desperate need to help people. Especially to people he grows to care about. Anakin always had a big heart. It's just the way he is," Obi-Wan looked over their platform, spying Anakin in his seat, tinkering with his goggles. "I would have given anything to the galaxy to switch places with him, but it's not my task. It's his. I'm not happy about it. But I won't deny him his destiny. If he's meant to help you, then I will let him help you."

Padmé took several deep breaths during his talk. Her nose sniffling a few times. She didn't turn her head to him, but she did lean into his touch. An anchor of comfort. "I didn't ask for this."

"Nor I."

Padmé finally turned to Obi-Wan. "You know… you're not what I imagine a Jedi to be," she admitted. "You or Anakin. You seem… I don't know. Different."

Or not at all, Obi-Wan thought. "We get that a lot."

Padmé hummed, eyes curiously studying him. "If I didn't know any better, I wouldn't even think you to be a Jedi."

Obi-Wan raised a questioning brow to her statement. He eyed her carefully, analyzing her position, words and tone. She doesn't know the truth. There was no way. Unless… no. That was silly. She wasn't Force sensitive. Perhaps perceptive. Very perceptive.

So, Obi-Wan decided to play along with her game. "And if I didn't know any better," he said to her with a knowing half-grin, "I wouldn't believe you to be a simple handmaiden."

He got the reaction he wanted. It was subtle and an untrained person wouldn't have noticed the flicker of getting caught unaware. But, she schooled her face perfectly once more. "I guess people aren't always what they appear to be nowadays."

"You can say that again," Obi-Wan agreed, thinking about two Siths posing as Jedi and fooling the entire Order. The entire galaxy!

A great thunderous applause erupted as giant slug slid its way to the massive box-office seat. Obi-Wan curled his nose at disgusting sight of the galaxy's biggest crime lord. The banners were raised and engines started whirring and coming to life.

The race was about to begin.

Padmé stepped up to the edge of their platform, standing next to Kitster. Artoo gave a wary beep from behind. Obi-Wan patted his dome. "It'll be all right, my little friend."

Little did Obi-Wan know that for himself, Anakin and Padmé, it was beginning of a long and deadly game.