Disclaimer: In no way at all do I own any of the original character, locations, ships, or anything else mentioned in Star Wars. They are all owned by George Lucas. I only own my OC. Any similarities between this story and another are purely accidental.
A/N: I have enabled anonymous reviewing. Thanks to Masked Masquerader for pointing this out.
Masked Masquerader: I'm glad you think you so. Obi-Wan appears, although only for a brief moment, in this chapter. He'll fully appear when Qui-Gon brings Anakin to the ship.
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Later that evening, Qui-Gon and Anakin were on the balcony. The Jedi Master was cleaning a cut on the Anakin's arm, while the young boy was looking up at the star-dotted sky. A look of admiration and awe was spread across his face
"There are so many!" exclaimed the young boy. He looked back to Qui-Gon. "Do they all have a system of planets?"
Qui-Gon smiled at his curiosity. "Most of them."
"Has anyone been to them all?" Anakin asked, and when Qui-Gon had replied 'Not likely,' he said, "I wanna be the first one to see them all!"
Chuckling, Qui-Gon wiped a patch of blood off Anakin's arm and scraped it onto a comlink chip. "There," he said, releasing Anakin's arm. "Good as new."
"Ani, bedtime!" shouted Shmi from inside.
Anakin spotted the chip. "What are you doing?" he asked, ignoring his mother's call.
"Checking your blood for infection."
"I've never seen—"
Shmi passed by the door leading to the balcony. "Ani, I'm not going to tell you again!" she called impatiently.
Qui-Gon restrained a smile. "Go on," he said, giving Anakin a gentle nudge towards the door. "You have a big day tomorrow. Goodnight."
Anakin smiled back and ran inside. Once he was gone, Qui-Gon inserted the blood-stained chip into his comlink, then called his apprentice; Obi-Wan Kenobi.
"Obi-Wan, make an analysis of this blood sample I'm sending you," Qui-Gon ordered. "I need a Midi-Chlorian count."
"Alright, I've got it." Obi-Wan sounded confused. "Something must be wrong with the transmission."
"Here's a signal check."
Obi-Wan sounded even more confused. "Strange," he murmured. "The transmission seems to be in good order. But the reading is off the chart…over twenty thousand."
"That's it then," said Qui-Gon, mostly to himself.
"Even Master Yoda doesn't have a Midi-Chlorian count that high!" exclaimed Obi-Wan.
Qui-Gon sounded disconcerted. "No Jedi has."
"What does it mean?"
"I'm not sure," responded Qui-Gon, looking up from the comlink. To his surprise, Lyra was in the doorway, quietly watching him.
---
Obi-Wan! So he's Qui-Gon's apprentice now, Lyra thought to herself, fondly remembering the blonde Padawan who had first taught her how to build her lightsaber. The two had been close friends when she had lived at the Temple, and Lyra realized with a pang in her heart how much she missed him.
"Did you hear everything, Lyra?" Qui-Gon quietly asked, putting away his comlink.
Guiltily, she nodded.
"Then you know that your brother has a—"
"—massive Midi-Chlorian count, I know," said Lyra bleakly, approaching the balcony railing as well. "Anakin would have been a Jedi if he had been born in the Republic, wouldn't he?"
Qui-Gon nodded. The two fell into a silence.
Do I tell him or not? Lyra asked herself, wringing her hands nervously. Qui-Gon will most definitely bring Ani with him to Coruscant, but I can't leave Shmi behind.
"You have something to tell me?" asked Qui-Gon, sounding torn between amusement and sadness.
Lyra sighed deeply, nodding. She plunged her hand into the pocket of her tunic, bringing out her lightsaber. She placed it in front of Qui-Gon, who did not look surprised in the least.
"What is your last name?"
"Sanome," answered Lyra immediately. "My mother was Jedi Master Corelle Sanome. My father is—was—Senator Jamal Organa from Alderaan. He was assassinated when I was very young."
Qui-Gon nodded. "Why did Corelle leave Coruscant?"
Lyra shrugged nonchalantly. "She said that the Council would eventually see the resemblance between me and my mother. She gave no other reason."
"I see." Qui-Gon picked up the lightsaber and handed it back to her. "Lyra," he began, "only you can choose whether or not you will come with me to Coruscant. I will not force you to leave."
Lyra let a small smile curl her lips. "I've missed you, Master Qui-Gon."
Qui-Gon chuckled. "And I bet you miss Obi-Wan as well."
"Yes," Lyra answered, giving Qui-Gon a reproachful stare when he smirked.
---
The next day, Qui-Gon took Jar Jar and Lyra with him to the hangar of the arena where the race was held. Alien crews and pilots rushed around, making last-minute preparations to their Pods. Qui-Gon and Watto walked through the bustling activity and talking, Lyra and Jar Jar following behind.
"I want to see your spaceship the moment the race is over," demanded Watto, a tone of smugness in his voice.
"Patience, my blue friend," chided Qui-Gon. "You'll have your winnings before the suns set, and we'll be far away from here."
Watto chuckled. "Not if your ship belongs to me, I think."
"You don't think Ani can win?" demanded Lyra, coming up beside Qui-Gon.
"Don't get me wrong," said Watto, not in a hurry to rouse Lyra's anger as she was not his property. "I have great faith in the boy. He's a credit to your race, but Sebulba there is going to win, I think." He pointed to a bug-eyed alien, whose shoulders and neck were being massaged by twin Yobanas.
"Why?" asked Qui-Gon.
"He always wins," said Watto, laughing. "I'm betting heavily on Sebulba."
Qui-Gon suddenly smiled. "I'll take that bet," he said.
Watto stopped laughing. Lyra looked between the two, curious at what the Jedi Master planned on doing.
"I'll wager my new racing pod against the boy and his mother," Qui-Gon explained.
"A Pod for slaves," Watto scoffed. "I don't think so. Well, perhaps. Just one. The mother, maybe. The boy isn't for sale."
"The boy is small," argued Qui-Gon, "he can't be worth much."
Watto shook his head, again saying no even when Qui-Gon claimed it to be the fastest Pod ever built.
"Both or no bet."
"No Pod's worth two slaves," retorted Watto. "Not by a long shot. One slave or nothing."
Qui-Gon made his decision. "The boy then."
Watto pulled a red and blue cube from a pocket. "We'll let fate decide. Blue, it's the boy. Red," said Watto, smiling evilly, "his mother."
Watto tossed the cube. Much to Lyra's amusement, Qui-Gon lifted his hand and moved the cube using the Force. It landed on blue. A smirk curled her lips as Watto looked up in anger.
"You won the small toss, outlander," shouted Watto, pointing a stubby-nailed finger angrily at Qui-Gon, "but you won't win the race, so it makes little difference!"
At that moment, Padmé and Anakin entered the hangar on lizard-like creatures called Eopies, pulling an engine behind them. Kitster and Shmi, on the other Eopie, are pulling another engine. R2 and 3P0 trundled behind them, pulling the Pod. Watto passed them as he left.
"Bonapa keesa pateeso, o wanna meetee chobodd," he hissed at Anakin, laughing as he walked off. Better stop your friend's betting, or I'll end up owning him too.
Anakin turned to Qui-Gon and Lyra, who were approaching them. "What did he mean by that?" he asked.
"I'll tell you later," was Qui-Gon's answer.
"This is so wizard!" exclaimed Kitster, beaming at Anakin. "I'm sure you'll do it this time, Ani!"
Padmé looked suspiciously at the two boys. "Do what?"
"Finish the race," replied Lyra bluntly. An innocent expression played on her face when Anakin turned around to glare at her.
"You've never won a race?" asked Padmé incredulously.
"Well…not exactly…"
"Not even finished!"
At the sheepish look on Anakin's face, Lyra was sure that one of her ribs had cracked from trying not to laugh.
"Kitster's right, I will this time," reassured Anakin, slinging an arm around his friend's shoulders.
Lyra laughed and squeezed Anakin's shoulder. "Of course you will."