The Podrace had begun with Anakin's racer—along with another racer's pod—stalling as the rest began the first lap. Padmé at first became easily frustrated. For a moment, she could already see Naboo's future slowly fade into the distance… Then the gentle grasp of Yané's hand was enough to soothe her worries and temporarily grant her a moment of peace.

Afterall, she was within a Jedi's presence.

But was thinking about another's.

She begun to realize that she missed Obi-Wan terribly; that it was suddenly a bad idea to come here and not be there by his side. Her crush on him was unmistakable, something that she knew was wrong and threatening should anybody find out. Padmé was aware that Jedi could sense the others feelings, so she did her best to conceal her feelings should they happen to "catch" Master Jinn's attention.

If he found out…she couldn't begin to count the accusations that would be against Obi-Wan.

And yet, she could not help but wonder if he was doing okay without her…

For some unknown reason, Obi-Wan couldn't help but to smile at the young boy's misfortune of having his pod stall at the beginning of the race.

It was wrong to find it funny, but the humility the boy must have been feeling was what caused a smile to creep along Obi-Wan's lips. His eyes watched the race with interest as the pod finally started moving and quickly caught up with the others. From what he read about these dangerous races, the routes were crude and highly complex; one sharp turn or a miscalculation in speed and soon you and your pod were nothing more then a burning fire ball. He never did understood why various beings enjoyed the thrill of the ride and the anxiety of the chase, but whatever made you rich from watching different pilots from other worlds compete in a deadly game of speed and skill… He knew one thing for certain; the crowd always came back for more.

As he had noticed with this particular crowd. Even if this day was a holiday—Boonta Eve, he recalled Padmé telling him—he had never witnessed so many spectators and gamblers show up for a deadly event of podracing.

Whatever, he thought. He hoped Qui-Gon knew what he was doing.

Qui-Gon had great faith in Anakin. That much he knew.

The race so far had been intense and many times over, Shmi and the Queen's two handmaidens would gasp in unison and huddle together as they watched the small handheld view screen. The image of course, was of Anakin's racer.

He stood behind them, allowing them space. Through the training-bond he could feel Obi-Wan's slight anxiety and this brought much comfort to the older Jedi Master. If only he knew what Qui-Gon had been told many years before…

A sudden uproar from the crowd broke his thoughts as the first of the racers crossed the finish line and began their second lap. Yané leaned forward in her seat and squinted her eyes to see above the horizon in the distance. Obviously, Anakin's pod wasn't among the first few to pass through.

Suddenly, she got up and pointed. "There!"

Anakin's racer zoomed past the finish line with such speed that both Yané and Padmé followed him with much enthusiasm. Shmi however, seemed to tense. She handed the small viewscreen to Yané and stood to stand beside Qui-Gon. He regarded her kindly. "Is there something wrong?" He prodded gently.

Her features softened. "I cannot thank you enough for what you have done for him."

He nodded, and smiled. "Anakin has great skills when it comes to rebuilding broken parts. He can pinpoint where exactly the problem is and fix it immediately."

"I know," Shmi almost whispered. Her gaze seemed distant.

"Does watching the race bother you?" He asked softly.

"Sometimes." Shmi looked up at him. "No matter how many races he competes in, Anakin always comes out of it alive."

"He can sense things before they happen. From his storytelling of previous racing— "

"He is strong in the Force," Shmi finished.

"Yes." Qui-Gon couldn't hide his mild surprise. He looked deeply into the face of a loving mother's features and held her gaze, even as the crowd cheered and ranted on when another racer was killed out in the desert—the Force echoing that another life had been lost—he couldn't help but to feel a sudden admiration for Shmi. A single mother to raise a child from an unknown pregnancy and watch as his skills in repairing and love for racing increased with each passing day.

An admiration any Jedi—Knight or Padawan—feels when one takes on an apprentice or watches as their own apprentice is Knighted and takes one of their own. The feeling she was giving off in the Force was mutual; but Qui-Gon knew it to be of something more. She was proud of her son.

As he was proud of Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan…

The Force—shifting from a ripple of a racer's death to a calm feeling of accomplishment from Shmi—shifted again when a warning became present. Stretching out into the infinites of the Force, he could sense no immediate danger, save for if a pod crashed nearby and was hurled towards the crowd.

But this was something else.

Something much deeper.

Something much more concentrated.

Something…coming from afar, and yet so near.

Something…familiar…