Before the race started, all of us were there in the pit area to encourage Anakin as he went through his final checks. I knew Shmi was concerned with Anakin's safety, and I sought to offer her what reassurance I could. Before Anakin pulled his pod racer out to the starting line, I gave him his first lesson as a Jedi-to-be. I told him to rely on his instincts, and all would be well. Much was at stake, but somehow I knew things would turn out okay.
As I stood, with Shmi, Padme, Jar Jar and several of Anakin's friends, I thought I saw that strange little creature, Obi-Wan's owner, talking to Watto, and some distance away, a man with a braid standing in the shadows. Quickly excusing myself, I headed off to talk to Obi-Wan, if it were he, for a least a few minutes before the race started. I wouldn't have much time to speak.
It was Obi-Wan standing in the shadows, along with a few other slaves, for the Boonta Eve race was a holiday. Slaves accompanied their owners who attended the race, or gathered within the edge of the pit area, obviously not allowed to sit in the stands.
I sent a soft swirl of the Force to flap his sleeve to get his attention as I slipped over near him, and he moved unobtrusively closer to the edge of the group. His face was pinched and drawn, but his eyes were bright and his grin quick to flash on his face.
Neither of us wanted to be seen talking to each other, for fear of the consequences.
"Are you okay, Obi-Wan?" I asked, concern lacing my voice as I remembered hearing the sound of the lash across his shoulders as I last left him, and wondering if that was what caused his face to look so tight and his shoulders so rigid, as if any movement caused him pain. "I'll free you as soon as I can, I promise. I promise."
"I'm okay," he said quietly, and his eyes slid to mine. I saw, however, how his shoulders tensed, as if my reminding him of that lashing brought back the sting of it. "What brought you to Tatooine?"
"Repairs," I said. I didn't dare say too much, or stay too long. "Do you know a slave named Anakin Skywalker – young human? Works for the Toydarian, Watto?"
"Young Anakin – the one racing today? Not really. Different owners. We slaves don't get to socialize much." His mouth quirked in a non-amused grin.
"His midi-chlorian count is higher than Yoda's. Obi-Wan, do you remember the prophecy about the One Who Will Bring Balance to the Force? I think he's the one, and I'm trying to free you and he both."
Not unexpectedly, Obi-Wan was silent, though his eyes flickered to my face and away. I could see he wasn't convinced, but he seemed to recognize my certainty and he wasn't about to dispute it. I doubt he disputed much of anything these days, but when I looked deep into his eyes, I saw the fire was still there, or it had been rekindled. His defiance was one of quiet acceptance, strange as it sounded. He had strength, he had patience and he had endurance. My heart lightened, just a bit. He wasn't beaten into submission. He was still a Jedi inside, even if a slave, even if without the Force.
Curious eyes were starting to turn our way. "Be strong. The Force will be with you, my padawan," I said softly as I carefully edged away and returned to Shmi, Padme and Anakin's friends.
The race didn't start at all well. This all important race, and Anakin was left at the starting line, an almost impossible handicap to overcome. Padme was already fuming over her discovery that Anakin had never even completed this race before, and Shmi was quietly worried. I was the perfect picture of a serene Jedi master, but I, too, was concerned.
Finally, Anakin got his pod racer to start, and he took off far behind the others. Gradually, he gained ground, moving up as other drivers crashed and by taking daring chances. He was really flying on instinct, and he had the crowd roaring and on its feet. It was neck and neck the last lap, and then - Anakin won the race. It was the first time a human had ever won a pod race. It meant I could get the part needed to repair the ship, and get the Queen and Anakin to Coruscant.
I had known Anakin's victory would ensure that.
I hadn't known it would mean choosing between Anakin, the hope for the future, and Obi-Wan, my hope for the present. I was now finding that out. I couldn't free both, and inwardly I raged. Life was not fair! I had once said life was neither fair nor unfair; it was what we made of it. It was a lie, now that I faced this decision.
I now knew Watto had sought out Obi-Wan's owner, for the Toydarian didn't wish to part with Anakin, and he was shrewd enough to know I was interested in the human slave I had described to him. He thought he had found a way to keep Anakin, and give me Obi-Wan in trade instead. That was what the two of them had been discussing, while I had had my furtive conversation with Obi-Wan before the race had started.
Those two slave-owners were standing side by side, exchanging secretive smiles as Anakin, Shmi, Padme and I came up to them after the race. Obi-Wan was standing a few paces off. His eyes were worried and he flashed a quick look at me, but kept his mouth shut.
Wonder of wonders, this time I had a faint sense of his presence within the Force, and the touch bothered me for I sensed a deep uneasiness within him, though he stood quietly enough.
"Found your'a boy," Watto chortled, catching sight of me. "A deal, I have for'a you, eh." His beady eyes were hard and calculating. He thought he could make me an offer that I couldn't refuse.
My eyes narrowed, and I knew I was not going to like whatever it was that he was going to offer me. I had won the part for the ship, and Anakin, and I wasn't going to let him weasel out of the bet. Too much was at stake. I carefully crossed my arms and stared at him steadily, an eyebrow raised.
"You's wants this boy, eh, and Grekle here wants'a Shmi. I'se tells you what, we trade 'em, and you's can have this boy instead of my boy, okay. I'se no care hows you gets your pleasure and this trade'll please us all, eh?"
It was all I could do to keep my jaw from dropping. Whatever I might have expected, this was not it, and I could feel my stomach get queasy within me. Anakin, or Obi-Wan? Oh, Force, I wanted to groan. Don't tell me I have to choose between them. I couldn't.
I could see startled understanding in Obi-Wan's eyes; he hadn't known what was up, either. I saw faint understanding in Anakin's eyes, as if he realized Watto was trying to weasel out of a bet by offering a replacement. I carefully kept a neutral expression on my face and looked at Watto, at Anakin, and then at Obi-Wan, but my thoughts were anguished and conflicted. I had promised I would free Obi-Wan. Yet Anakin was the Chosen One!
I could now see alarm in Obi-Wan's eyes and he put out a hand as if to take the hand he expected to be extended to him – my hand. His eyes implored me - to free him, I was sure. He could wish for nothing else, and I didn't blame him. He didn't know what was at stake. He knew only that I had the means to free him, and I had promised to do so. I had to break his heart, his trust and my promise.
I had to break my own heart. It was a terrible choice that I faced, but one that offered no real choice. I already knew I had no currency to buy Obi-Wan's freedom from his current owner. It was Obi-Wan, or Anakin. I could only take one of them.
But Anakin was the Chosen One. He had a destiny, and it was larger than me, than Obi-Wan, than anything else. One cannot fight destiny. As a Jedi, I knew, too, that the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the one, or the two. My duty was to the Republic, to the galaxy, to the Force. It outweighed my own needs.
It outweighed Obi-Wan's need.
It tore me apart. I could only save one, and it couldn't be Obi-Wan. My poor padawan, who had so dearly suffered these past five years. Every fiber of my being cried out at leaving him behind. In leaving him, I would be leaving a part of myself.
I was a Jedi, and I knew there was no choice.
This time, I would knowingly leave Obi-Wan behind. This time, I was truly betraying him. I dropped my eyes, for I couldn't stand to see the hurt that had to be there.
Obi-Wan glanced at Anakin, and smiled, a sad smile, I saw out of the corner of my eye as I moved. By not looking at him, I wouldn't see his smile turn into a frown; I wouldn't see his shock and pain. I took a step forward, then another one – and stood behind Anakin.
"I will take young Anakin," I said firmly, my hands on his shoulders. I will not look at Obi-Wan, I thought. I can't bear to see into his eyes, or his heart. I can't look at him. Watto blustered and fumed, but I held steady. I sensed that Obi-Wan was trying to catch my eyes, but I refused to look at him. I couldn't bear to see the look on his face.
Master.
I flinched. How could Obi-Wan reach me through the bond? He had no access to the Force. How could he even reach out to me, after what I was doing to him?
Master. Qui-Gon. This time, it was so gentle, and yet demanding, I had to respond.
His eyes were waiting for mine to meet his. I looked into his eyes, and saw only compassion and understanding. Obi-Wan didn't blame me. He was encouraging me, giving me strength. It made me weak, instead. I couldn't do this to him, I couldn't. I suddenly saw all the privations and hardships he'd endured, all those long years, the hope that had kept him going – his love for me.
His eyes still implored me, only I now realized; they implored me to do what I must. I could see he feared for Shmi, under his owner, should I change my mind. I knew enough to know his fears were probably warranted, and she appeared to be relatively well treated by Watto. There was little such hope with any possible new owner.
I had made the mistake of underestimating Obi-Wan. He had neither expected, hoped or wished that I would chose him over a young boy, over the one I believed to be the Chosen One.
He wanted me to take Anakin away from a life of slavery, and he wanted to protect Shmi at the same time. My kind and compassionate padawan. He hadn't changed; he was still the Obi-Wan I knew inside. He deserved better than this.
You must, Master. His eyes were steady on mine, pouring strength into me. I nodded; I could not refuse him. I would have to mourn him, instead.
I love you, Master. His lips formed the same words as his mind.
And I love you, Obi-Wan. But I didn't know if he heard me, for the bond had just as suddenly gone silent as it had come alive. I hoped my thought reached him, for I could no longer look at him.
Within minutes, we were gone, back to the ship, back to the Temple, back home. And Obi-Wan remained behind, alone, in a place that would never be home to him. And this anguished Jedi master found a quiet place where he could break down and cry. I had never before, and I never wanted to again, cry like that.
It hurt, oh, it hurt, and the pain deepened at the thought that back on Tatooine, Obi-Wan would not be crying. He would be strong and he would wait, hoping I would be able to return for him. He always had endurance; he had learned patience.
I had learned, once again, that my heart could still break.
I had never wished less to be a Jedi, pledged to the greater good, when the good of one eluded me. Doing the right thing did not absolve one of guilt or heartache.