"How much for the kid?"

The "kid" has just exited the shop on Watto's orders to scram and he narrows his eyes at the visitor (off-worlder by his bearing). "E chu ta," he growls. "I sell only parts, not boys."

The man is dressed in worn, but sturdy attire and sports a few days' worth of stubble. One of his calloused hands scratches at his chin as he flashes the shop-owner a sarcastic smile. "That's funny. I'm actually here to sell you some parts in exchange for that boy of yours. Unless, of course, you'll agree to take a cash amount, but you don't strike me as the type that settles for less than top bill."

Watto's wings hitch in irritation and he drops a few inches before rising to hover nose to nose with the man once more. "It will take more than a few shiny parts to win that boy. Is good mechanic and comes at a high price."

The man's eyes glint with something unidentifiable as he pulls a sleek datapad from inside of his jacket. "Perhaps this will peak your interest," he says, tapping the screen a few times before handing it over.

Watto sneers when he takes it, but when he looks at the screen his heart speeds up and he begins to scroll hungrily through the graphics displayed before him. "I get the entire ship, yes?"

He can almost hear the man smirk. "Yes. Plus a few additional bells and whistles, if you're interested."

The ship, an Aka'jor-class shuttle manufactured by MandalMotors, is as dangerous as it is ugly. Watto knows that as a whole, he would receive very little interest from buyers, but its engine is the envy of every ship manufacturer in the galaxy and he knows a few pod racers who would pay good money for it. Broken down, the ship holds enough valuable parts to sustain his business for another five years and then some.

He also knows that this ship is worth more than two-dozen slaves, and he figures the stranger knows it as well.

Nevertheless…

"Bells and whistles, you say?" he prompts, still scrolling through graphics and pausing when he reaches estimated production costs (with his margins he would turn a truly ridiculous profit).

"On one condition."

Watto looks up at the man, appraising him with newfound respect (or as much respect as he's ever afforded anyone). "Yes?"

"The kid's mother. I want her too." There is a hardness to the man's voice and his odd, clipped accent grows more pronounced.

Watto isn't fazed in the slightest. "This is Tatooine, boy. Name your bells and whistles and I'll decide if they're worth two slaves." The last words draws a flinch and Watto smiles.

The off-worlder's mouth ticks up at one corner as he reaches for the datapad. "I took the liberty of adding my own personal touches to it, but I can just as easily remove them if you decide she isn't worth it."

Once glance is all Watto needs. "Very well." The galaxy is on the brink of war; he figures he can easily sell weapons to the highest bidder. There is no shortage of bounty hunters in the Outer Rim, after all. "Bring me merchandise first, and then you get your slaves."

This time the flinch is more subdued, but the man's smile only grows. "On the contrary, you bring them to me now, or you get no ship and no added weaponry."

Watto has played this game a million times over and this man is no hutt. "No deal," he spits before turning with a dismissive wave.

"Rumor has it that a Nubian starship has been spotted in the Dune Sea."

"So?"

"There may be Jedi on board."

He has no qualms about Jedi. "Maybe they need parts for their ship, eh?" he retorts with a huff of laughter.

"Perhaps," the man grants. "But my guess is that they'll be more interested in your boy than in your spare parts. And trust me…"

Watto turns.

The stranger smiles, all youthful dimples and glinting eyes. "They will either pay you far less than my current offer, or they'll just take him without paying anything at all."

It really isn't even a choice. Watto mutters a vulgar insult and then fetches his slaves. One week later, he receives the stranger's payment in full with a document recording the ship's transfer of ownership.

Kenobi's name is added to his mental list of potential suppliers. The man is young, but his resources seem extensive, and Watto decides the name is worth remembering.