Part 4: The Boy from Tatooine

General Aderonn stood on the bridge of his command ship as his subordinates did a quick check of all the ship's systems. It'd been several hours since Lord Sidious's last transmission and he was beginning to wonder if the Sith's plan to locate the queen's ship was going to fail. Perhaps he should have kept his technicians browsing the scouts' reports, just in case.

"General Aderonn."

Aderonn's posture straightened immediately. He'd never heard that voice before. He turned around to see a stranger clad in many layers of black cloth standing in the bridge's doorway. The man wore a hooded black cloak on top of everything, with the hood drawn up. Despite the garment hiding many of his facial features, he could see the man was no human. The new arrival's crimson face, covered in sharp black tattoos told him that much.

"Who are you?" he demanded, "how did you get aboard this ship?"

The stranger began to advance quickly, heading straight for him. His pace prompted Aderonn to take an unsure step back. He didn't look like a Jedi. Was he an assassin, sent by the Republic?

"Stop there!" he ordered.

One of the armed guards rushed toward the man, raising his blaster carbine as he moved. The stranger stopped and turned his head to look at the guard, then thrust his arm out. The guard flew backward, flung off his feet, until he collided with the far wall and slumped to the ground where he remained. The stranger returned his gaze to the general and continued to move forward until he was standing in front of him.

"Who..? Are you…a Jedi?" Aderonn stammered.

"Do not mistake me for one of their filth," the man scolded him in a deep, threatening voice. The man's stance was tense, his hands clenched tightly on either side of his body. It looked to Aderonn like he would burst into action at any minute. He hoped dearly that action wasn't against him.

"If you're not a Jedi, then…"

"I am Darth Maul, apprentice to Darth Sidious, Dark Lord of the revived Sith," the stranger introduced himself, his tone proud and severe. "In the absence of my master, you will follow my orders as if they had come from him."

General Aderonn shakily cleared his throat.

"Lord Sidious never mentioned having an apprentice," he stated, trying to maintain the aire of authority his station demanded, despite the slow chill that crawled throughout his body in the man's intimidating presence. He tried not to flinch when the stranger lifted his open hand in front of his face.

"Do you require another demonstration of my power?" he hissed, slowly clenching the hand back into a fist. "If I need to take command of this ship by force, I will."

Aderonn stared briefly at the fist only centimeters from his nose and shook his head.

"No…Lord Maul."

Maul brought the hand away from his face, returning it to its place at his side.

"Good," he snapped, "set a course for the Tatoo System." He turned his back to the general. Aderonn had to force himself not to react indignantly to the blatant show of disrespect. "I will require a fighter for my personal use," Maul continued. He glanced back at him. "See that it's prepared for me before we reach our destination."

The Sith began to walk away.

"I…my Lord!" the general called after him.

Darth Maul stopped abruptly, but didn't turn to face him.

"What is it?" he demanded.

"If there's a plan, I should know about it."

"You know all you need to know…for now."

Aderonn grimaced, but didn't say anything as Maul proceeded off the command ship's bridge. He shook his head.

"How did he get on board without my knowing it?" he demanded, addressing one of his crewmembers.

"I'm not sure, Sir," the Nautolan man replied nervously.

"See if you can't find out," the general commanded him. He paused and glanced at the door the Sith lord had exited through. "And tell our officers in the hangar to prepare a fighter."

"Yes, Sir."

[NEXT]

Qui-Gon and Padmé arrived in Mos Eisley just as the dual suns were beginning to set. The trek had been long and hot and they were grateful for the waning sunlight. Qui-Gon estimated they would have a few minutes to scout around the city for the sorts of shops they would need before it would be time to find somewhere to spend the night.

The streets of Mos Eisley were just as dusty as the open desert. Womp rats skittered openly between alleyways, hardly noticed by the locals until one of them got in the way. Dewbacks, rontos, and other enormous beasts of burden lumbered about, led by their owners. The residents of the city all wore clothing in various shades of brown and tan, just like their buildings—and even the rest of the planet, for that matter. It was a dull shock after the vibrant colors of lush Naboo.

Qui-Gon carefully stepped around a raggedy couple huddled together against the base of a wall as he and Padmé made their way through one of the narrower streets, headed in the direction he assumed would lead them to the center of town. He felt uncomfortable asking for directions from any of the people they'd met so far. Each and every civilian they'd seen was either hunched over in an attempt to avoid contact or dressed like a mercenary. He'd dealt with mercenaries before, but those that frequented Hutt space weren't the sort they'd want to get mixed up with.

"How are we going to find a mechanic in all this?" Padmé asked him once they'd gotten a short distance away from the seated couple, "no one seems to be very helpful and we don't know where we're going."

"I'd prefer if we found the parts to install ourselves," Qui-Gon replied, "after all, hiring a mechanic would require bringing someone back to the ship. We should avoid that, if we can."

"There's still the problem of actually locating those parts," Padmé pointed out unenthusiastically.

"I suspect we'll find more hospitable people the closer we get to the town's center," Qui-Gon explained. He gestured ahead. "The shops and merchant stalls should be around there. Being an anti-social merchant is bad for business, so we should at least be able to ask around."

"Fair enough."

Qui-Gon proceeded down the street quickly, looking around as he went to try and identify the proper path. He guessed it would take them a while to navigate the many streets and alleyways of Mos Eisley, but he figured they would at least be able to find a place to stay before it got too dark.

The Jedi Master stopped in his tracks when he detected something ahead. The Force was suddenly sending him vague signals, something he wasn't accustomed to. He thought about what Obi-Wan had said earlier, how he sensed something bad was going to happen, but couldn't identify what it was. Still, it wasn't necessarily something bad. Oddly enough, it felt both good and bad at the same time. Whatever he was sensing, it was strong, but not incredibly obvious. He tried to focus on the sensation. He thought, perhaps, it might've been a person, but it was much too early to tell.

"Qui-Gon?" Padmé asked.

"I'm sorry," the Jedi replied, "I thought I heard something unusual."

"It seems to me everything is unusual on this planet," the girl muttered, looking about at their dull, sandy surroundings.

"So it is," Qui-Gon agreed absent-mindedly, still thinking about the odd feeling he'd had. Whatever it had been, it was gone then.

He put a hand to his chin as he tried to locate the sensation again. After failing to do so, he shook his head and pressed on. Several meters down the narrow street, they came across an open area surrounded by thin stone walls. There were multiple exits, all leading to more narrows streets or alleys. It looked harmless, but the Jedi didn't like it. That time, he was definitely sensing something bad.

"Turn back around, Padmé," he said under his breath, "we'll find another way to go."

He heard her gasp behind him and looked back. Two men with tan scarves wrapped over their heads and faces barred them from going back the way they'd come. Qui-Gon thought they looked familiar, then recalled the two people he'd nearly stepped on while they were sitting on the side of the road. He reached back to put an arm around Padmé's shoulders and move her in front of him as he started to walk forward again. He kept himself from looking back at the two men, but he could hear them following them.

"What do they want?" Padmé whispered.

"Just keep walking," Qui-Gon replied calmly.

The Jedi directed her away from one of the clearing's exits when another man appeared in the doorway. He led her toward one of the others, but he was fairly sure they wouldn't be able to simply walk out.

"I have a bad feeling about this," the girl murmured.

Qui-Gon stopped walking and gently put one hand on her shoulder.

"This is most likely a trap set by a gang of muggers," he whispered, "but I want you to stay calm. You're in no real danger while I'm here."

Padmé nodded and slid her hand into the one of the folds of her tunic above her belt. Qui-Gon spotted a small blaster pistol inside. He squeezed her arm reassuringly and turned to face the men who'd been following them.

"Offworlders?" one of them asked, his voice muffled by the scarf.

"Looks that way," the other replied.

The third man exited the doorway he'd been standing in and came to stand beside his partners. He was dressed similarly, though he wore large goggles that hid his eyes, rather than the head scarves his friends wore.

"If they were from around here, they would've known to stay clear of our turf," he stated.

"If you'd like us to leave, we won't argue," Qui-Gon offered, though he knew that wasn't what they were really after.

"You can't leave without paying our tax first," a fourth voice replied.

The Jedi glanced backward to see three more thieves had emerged from the other outlets around the clearing. Each one of them carried a cheap blaster. All six were dressed like the lowest of peasants. A poorly-established criminal outfit, he guessed. Though their features were hidden, he could tell by their voices that they were very young, perhaps only a little older than Padmé; teenagers without something productive to spend their time doing.

"I know you think you'll gain something from this, but trust me when I say you don't want it to escalate to violence," Qui-Gon warned them, "if you want to avoid finding out what sort of people you're threatening, you need to stand aside."

"An old man and a little girl? You don't look all that scary to me," one of them retorted. He pulled out his blaster. "Besides, it doesn't matter who you are. No one's immune to blaster shots."

Qui-Gon quickly waved his hand at the one holding his blaster.

"You will dr—"

The thief let out an exclamation when a rock smacked him in the side of his head. The others turned to locate the rock's origin. Qui-Gon looked as well and saw a child perched on top of the wall, waving a second rock as he prepared to throw it. He had his face covered as well, but appeared smaller than the other boys and was no doubt at least five years younger, judging by his height. Of course, none of that really mattered; the fact that we was throwing rocks at them meant he was probably not part of their gang.

"It's that kid again!" one of the muggers growled.

"Little rat!" another shrieked, "go get him!"

Two of the thieves rushed toward the child, but he jumped down on the other side of the wall before they could reach him.

"Go!" one cried.

The two started toward the nearest of the clearing's exits, followed by two more. The four boys rushed out after the smaller one, leaving two of their friends behind with Padmé and Qui-Gon. The Jedi sighed and looked to the nearest of the remaining hooligans.

"You will drop your weapon," he commanded.

The teen straightened his posture.

"I will drop my weapon," he said, obeying the command as he did.

The other boy stared incredulously at him.

"Huh?" he breathed.

"And run away," Qui-Gon concluded.

The boy spun about and ran, vanishing around a corner.

The last of the thieves looked back and forth between Qui-Gon and where his friend had run off to.

"What are you, a Jedi?" he demanded angrily.

"Stay here any longer and you might find out," Qui-Gon replied, his voice stern and foreboding.

The boy shook his head determinedly and began to back away.

"S-sorry, sir," he stuttered before turning to run. His foot slipped in the sand briefly as he tried to round the corner, but he caught himself roughly on the wall and rushed away as fast as he could.

"That might've been a little harsh of me," the Jedi murmured to himself.

"I think he deserved it," Padmé stated indignantly.

Qui-Gon chuckled quietly.

"You may have a point. Come along."

Padmé followed him out of the walled-off area and into another narrow street. She watched the taller walls of the buildings around them as she walked.

"Do you think that boy will be okay?" she asked, "those thieves seemed really mad at him."

"I certainly hope so," Qui-Gon answered, "but if those other boys haven't been able to catch him in the past, I'm sure he must know these streets very well."

"I wish we could help him," the girl said with a sigh.

"We'd have to find him first," the Jedi pointed out lightly, "and something tells me that won't be easy."

"Hey, are you okay?"

Qui-Gon and Padmé stopped to look up. The boy that'd helped them was standing on the roof of the building just to their left. He stepped off the edge and landed in the sand in front of them, kicking up a small plume of dust as he did. He was a short boy, but his voice sounded as if it were entering the stage of puberty, suggesting he'd soon grow much taller. He wore a crudely-sewn beige tunic under the scarves that hid his face. His pants appeared to be just as rough, suggesting they were homemade. The brown sandals on his feet did little to keep the sand out of his toenails.

"Those guys like to act like they're tough, but they're just a bunch of kreetles," the boy continued once he'd fanned the dust away from his face.

Qui-Gon smiled.

"We're fine, now," he said, "thank you for helping us out back there."

The boy nodded quickly and tilted his head to peer at them through the folds of fabric over his mouth and hair.

"Are you from offworld?" he asked, "You look kind of lost."

Qui-Gon chuckled again and folded his arms.

"Unfortunately, I think we are lost."

"Can you help us?" Padmé asked.

The boy visibly perked up.

"Yes!" he exclaimed. He patted his hands on the thighs of his dusty pants. "Anything for you," he added, somewhat timidly.

Padmé recoiled slightly. Qui-Gon could see her cheeks were getting pinker, despite the fine sand that'd collected on her face throughout their hike across the open desert.

"I beg your pardon?" she squeaked.

"Oh," the boy breathed. He reached up and pulled the fabric off the top of his head and down below his chin, revealing a mess of light brown hair and the face of a young adolescent male. His blue eyes were fixed on Padmé as he grinned sheepishly. "Sorry," he apologized, "I must've looked like one of those idiots. I'm not, by the way." He laughed nervously, then cleared his throat. "My name's Anakin Skywalker. What's yours?"

Qui-Gon decided not to answer first after seeing how obviously interested Anakin was in his pretty companion. He looked down at her. Padmé took a second or two to look over the boy, still trying to decide what she thought of him. Qui-Gon assumed Anakin's clumsy declaration of interest was something she'd have to consider for a while. Finally, she quietly cleared her throat.

"Padmé," she answered simply.

"Oh, wow," the boy blurted. He laughed a little and started to pick at his thumbnail. "I mean…um, that's so…fitting!"

Qui-Gon continued to watch the two, though he felt a little guilty for finding the awkward situation so painfully amusing. To his relief, Padmé's lips spread in a smile.

"Fitting?" she asked.

"Well," Anakin begun. He paused to think of the wording. "I meant it's so fitting that someone so beautiful would have such a pretty name," he concluded.

Padmé laughed while politely covering her mouth with her hand. Qui-Gon glanced at Anakin, who frowned at first, then started to chuckle along.

"I'm really sorry," he said between laughs, "that was just…bad. I've just never seen a girl like you around here before. Most of us are dirtier…and maybe a little wrinklier."

Padmé giggled again.

"No, it's fine," she chirped, "it was…nice of you to say. Thank you."

Anakin grinned, then let his eyes drift up at Qui-Gon. His smile shrunk a little and he coughed to clear his throat again.

"Um…sorry, sir," he grunted, "are you her father?"

"No, just her temporary guardian," the Jedi answered, trying not to sound too stern. "You can call me Qui-Gon."

Anakin nodded once.

"Right. Well. Where were you trying to go?" He shrugged. "I know this city pretty well. If you're trying to find someone specific, I could probably help with that too."

"You're awfully eager to help us," Qui-Gon noted aloud, "Aren't we still strangers to you?"

"I'm pretty good at figuring people out and you seem like good people," Anakin replied confidently, "we don't get a lot of those around here."

Qui-Gon nodded slowly. He wasn't sure if it was the same thing he'd felt earlier, but he sensed something powerful in the boy. Yet, despite the power of what he sensed, it seemed buried or muffled. He was certain Anakin had a connection to the Force. Its muted signature, however, convinced him the boy had no idea he was different. And how different he was. The power Qui-Gon sensed in him was beyond any he'd sensed before, with the exception of Master Yoda's. How a simple boy from a nearly forgotten planet on the Outer Rim could be a match for the grandmaster of the Jedi Order was unfathomable.

"In that case, I think you're exactly what we need," Qui-Gon replied, smiling again. He folded his hands in front of his body. "Our ship was damaged in a meteor shower. We were able to make it this far, but that's all we could get out of her." He unfolded his hands and took the pack off his shoulder to pull a datapad out of it. "I have a list of replacement parts we need," he continued, "I don't expect you to know where to find them all, but if you could tell us the locations of the junk shops and garages in this city, I'm sure we could do the rest on our own."

"Yeah, I could do that," Anakin chirped, "but they're all going to be closing soon." He looked around. "You have somewhere to sleep, right?"

"Actually, that's one of the things we needed to find," Padmé stated, "is there a hotel of some sort here?"

"I guess you could call it that," the boy replied unenthusiastically, "it's alright, if you make sure you lock your door."

Qui-Gon sighed and put the pack back on his shoulder.

"It will have to do."

"Alright, follow me," Anakin declared as he started onward.

"There!"

Qui-Gon looked to see two of the masked hooligans rushing down an alleyway toward them. He sighed. Those boys didn't know when to give up.

"Blast," Anakin cursed under his breath, "I thought I lost them!" He spun around to face Qui-Gon. "Run!"

The Jedi reached out and took hold of the boy's shoulder before he could run off again. He held him in place and put a finger to his lips. Anakin's eyes widened in panic, but he didn't try to escape the Jedi's grasp. The thieves skidded to a stop a few meters away from their three targets and were quickly joined by the other two who'd begun the pursuit. The four teens each either drew their pistols from their belts or at least placed their hands on the grips. It was then that Anakin started to pull away.

"It'll be alright," Qui-Gon whispered.

"Alright, this is personal now," one of the older boys barked, "give him over and you two can go free."

"No," the Jedi replied bluntly.

"What?"

"I said no." Qui-Gon glared at the troublemakers sternly. "I think you boys have caused enough trouble for one day."

The boys all looked at each other, then back at Qui-Gon. One of them stepped forward.

"Are you blind?" he spat, "can't you see we all have blasters? What makes you think you can talk to us like that!?"

Qui-Gon sighed calmly and nodded.

"I can see your blasters, and I can also hear your voices. You're all very young. I'm giving you a chance many others wouldn't. That chance is to walk away before this goes any further." He paused. "You have many years ahead of you. You can choose to use your blasters and either become murderers or be killed. Or, you can choose to go home. I will not follow you. I will not try to find you. It will be as if none of this happened."

Three of the boys broke their eye contact with the Jedi, choosing to look down or to the side. The last continued to fume at him, the hand holding the blaster fidgeting. After briefly considering his options, the boy put one foot forward. Qui-Gon discreetly slipped his hand under his long coat.

"You think you can just tell us what to do?" the boy growled, "we own these streets. We tell people what to do." He whipped the blaster up, pointing it at Qui-Gon's chest. The other three teens took steps away from him.

"Woah, wait!" one of them exclaimed.

"Let's just go home, Jey!" another begged.

"No!" Jey insisted, "if we let this old guy push us around, we lose everything! No one will ever take us seriously again!" He nodded at his own statement, reassuring himself he was right. "We own these streets."

Qui-Gon ignited his lightsaber a split second before Jey pulled the trigger. The bolt bounced off its blade and back into the boy's leg. He cried out and fell backward into the sand. His followers stood motionless at first, still trying to decipher all that'd happened in such a short time.

While they were still reeling from the shock, Qui-Gon spoke up, "take your friend and leave in peace." He shut off the lightsaber and stowed it back under his coat.

The three teens took several seconds to snap out of their dazes, but when they did they didn't waste any time in collecting the injured Jey and rushing away from the scene.

Qui-Gon sighed. Anakin twisted out of his grasp to face him, his eyes wide.

"You're-! You're a Jedi!?"

Qui-Gon put his fingers to his lips.

"I'm sorry if I frightened you, but please, try to keep quiet about this."

Anakin laughed in astonishment.

"You didn't frighten me," he exclaimed, "you're a Jedi! A real Jedi! This is amazing!"

Qui-Gon bent down slightly to get closer to his eye level and spoke in a low register, "Anakin, please. Quietly."

Anakin nodded rapidly and put both hands over his mouth. He nodded again, then removed them.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I just…wow, I never thought I'd actually meet a Jedi! What are you doing in Mos Eisley? Are you on a mission? It's something important, isn't it?"

Qui-Gon couldn't help but smile at his childish excitement, but he knew they couldn't dally.

"We should be on our way," he said.

Anakin cleared his throat and put on a serious expression.

"Right. Obviously, it's something important," he stated, obviously trying to seem more collected than he really was, "you need a place to sleep." He grinned again, his face gradually lighting up with a realization. "You should come home with me!" he whispered hoarsely, "my mom! She'll want to meet you!"

"The hotel will do just fine."

"No!" Anakin insisted, "not if you're a Jedi! Someone could steal your laser sword while you're sleeping. It'd be private at my house, even if they know you're a Jedi. No one will try to attack you or…I don't know. Some people around here would."

Qui-Gon looked at Padmé, who shrugged and nodded at him.

"Then we would be grateful for the hospitality," he said, looking at Anakin again. The boy's face brightened immediately.

"Yes!" he breathed. He turned around started to walk away. He looked back at them, gesturing with his arm. "This way."

[NEXT]

Qui-Gon, Padmé, and their new friend arrived at Anakin's family hovel after the two suns had set. It was a humble home, composed of one circular center room with a small kitchen, two smaller rooms he could see were used as bedrooms, and a third room he guessed was probably a restroom, with its door shut. The central room was a cozy living space with a table set for five and a cushioned bench that lined part of the curved wall. On the far side of the center room there was a second exit, no doubt leading out behind the house. No one was home, which was odd, since the boy claimed to have three family members: a mother, a step-father, and a step-brother.

"Maybe they're out back," Anakin muttered as he searched around the small stone hut, turning on lights as he went. He shrugged and returned to his guests. "Are you thirsty?"

"Should we help you search for your family?" Padmé wondered, her brow creased in worry.

"I'm sure they're around," the boy replied with a shrug.

"Well…after all the things we've been involved in already, I can't help but be concerned."

Anakin shook his head.

"Nobody messes with us," he explained, "my mom said it's because we're protected."

Qui-Gon's interest was piqued.

"Protected? By what?" he asked.

"She wouldn't say," Anakin replied, "but we haven't run into any trouble yet, so it has to be true, right?"

Qui-Gon looked up when he heard the back door slide open. A woman with dark brown hair and an unremarkable gray dress stood in the doorway. Her face looked like it'd been quite beautiful once, but time, worry, and the harsh suns of Tatooine had taken their toll on her complexion. When she noticed Anakin inside, her weary expression lit up, changing to a frantic mixture of anger and happiness.

"Where have you been!?" she demanded, "Cliegg and Owen have been looking all over the city for you! Even Beru came over to help!"

"Nowhere," Anakin lied.

The woman stormed up to him and threw her arms around him.

"You need to stop disappearing like that!" She stopped hugging him and held him at arms' length. "At least tell us where you going, anything! You know how dangerous it is out there."

"But I'm fine," Anakin pointed out incredulously, "I always am." He sighed. "It wasn't so horrible just a few weeks ago; I don't know why you're freaking out now."

The woman sighed angrily and wiped his nose with her thumb.

"Go get cleaned up for dinner," she commanded sternly.

Anakin sighed again and did as he was told. Once he'd left the room, the woman turned to look at Qui-Gon and Padmé. She smiled apologetically and clasped her hands together.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I just get so worried about him sometimes. I know it probably isn't true, but sometimes I think he just doesn't care for his own safety."

Qui-Gon smiled back.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he replied, "I've had my own experiences with headstrong boys."

"Are you a father?"

He let out a short chuckle.

"No, but I have the privilege of mentoring a somewhat unpredictable young man."

The woman's expression relaxed and she laughed out her reply, "then you know!" She stepped forward to offer her hand to him. "I'm Shmi Skywalker Lars, Anakin's mother," she said.

Qui-Gon returned the handshake and nodded.

"Qui-Gon Jinn." He looked down at the girl beside him. "And this is Padmé, my traveling companion."

Padmé bowed her head in a refined manner.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she said.

Shmi giggled and bowed her head back.

"Aren't you polite? You two must not be from around here."

Qui-Gon chuckled.

"No, not at all. In fact, we owe your son for how helpful he was today. I'm sorry he worried you, but we would've been lost without him; Mos Eisley is bigger than I expected it to be."

Shmi sighed.

"Yes, well, I don't blame you for thinking it'd be smaller," she admitted, "sometimes, I think it's strange people live here at all." She paused. "Oh, I'm sorry! You two must be parched. I'll be right back."

Padmé waited for the woman to move to the kitchen side of the room before she leaned over to whisper to her Jedi protector, "Master Jedi, do you think we'll be safe here? He knows what you are."

Qui-Gon nodded reassuringly at her, but didn't have time to say anything before Shmi returned with two cups of water. She handed them over and they drank gratefully.

Shmi folded her arms and let a long breath out through her nose before speaking up again, "Excuse me, sir."

Qui-Gon looked up at her. "Hm?"

"You didn't…by chance happen to come into town from the north side, did you?" Shmi asked, an uncomfortable grimace on her face.

"We did."

She sighed deeply and put a hand to her forehead.

"He's been picking fights with those boys again, hasn't he?" she grumbled.

"I'm afraid so," Qui-Gon replied, "but we're grateful for his intervention. Apparently, they intended to rob us."

Shmi laughed an exasperated laugh.

"He can't stand those troublemakers," she murmured, "I mean, the people who live around here are happy newcomers aren't getting robbed as often as they used to, but I don't see why Ani thinks he has to be the one to deal with them."

"He has a defender's heart," Qui-Gon observed.

"Yes, and I know I should be proud of him, but all I can think about is how it's possible he might not come home one day. What those boys really need is to be taught a lesson and I don't think they'll learn it from him."

"I think they may have learned their lesson today," Padmé quipped happily.

"Who learned what lesson?" Anakin asked, returning to the central room to join them.

"Were you putting yourself in dangerous situations again today, Anakin?" Shmi asked him, raising an eyebrow at him.

Anakin shrugged.

"They were threatening to hurt them," he argued, "I couldn't just let that happen." He looked up at Qui-Gon. "But…I don't think they'll be a problem anymore," he concluded.

"Yes, that's what Padmé was just saying," Shmi pondered aloud. She looked at each of them individually. "What, exactly, happened today?"

Anakin looked back at her and grinned wide.

"You won't believe it."

"Oh?"

Anakin moved closer.

"I led them off like I always do," he began rapidly, "but they found us again and they pulled out their blasters but then Qui-Gon told them that if they kept going on like that, they'd either become killers or they'd be dead! That really freaked them out, too. But one of them was going to shoot us—"

"Shoot you!?" Shmi shouted incredulously, "you nearly died today!? Why didn't you say something!?"

"I just did!" Anakin defended himself.

His mother folded her arms and glared down at him.

"What happened?"

"Like I said, one of them decided to act like a tough guy and shoot us, then—" he stopped himself and looked up at the Jedi, his eyes questioning.

Qui-Gon considered the boy's pleading gaze and briefly wondered if he should allow him to finish the story. True, the more people who knew he was a Jedi, the more chances the Separatists would hear of it, but there were plenty of Jedi throughout the galaxy. They'd have no guarantee he was one of the two they were looking for. But security concerns aside, he knew he needed Anakin's mother to know. Anakin was strong in the Force, stronger than he thought possible. He needed to find out why. After those few seconds of thought, Qui-Gon closed his eyes, sighed, and nodded his consent.

"Then?" Shmi asked impatiently.

"Then Qui-Gon pulled out his lightsaber and knocked it back at him!" Anakin finished excitedly, "he's a Jedi, mom! A real one!"

Shmi straightened, her eyes widening. She slowly looked to Qui-Gon.

"Is that true? Are you really a…Jedi?"

Qui-Gon nodded sincerely.

Shmi began to wring her hands together. She did a good job of hiding it, but Qui-Gon could tell she was ecstatic.

"I never thought that…oh, I've been waiting for this. Please, can we talk?" The woman glanced at Padmé and Anakin, who both seemed perplexed by her behavior. "It will only be a little while, Ani," she assured her son, "perhaps you and Padmé can get to know each other?"

Anakin shrugged.

"Okay, I guess," he muttered. He turned to smile at Padmé, though it was an unsure smile. "We could go outside? With the suns down, it's pretty nice."

Padmé nodded and followed him out the back door, looking back once. Shmi watched them leave, then started to wring her hands again. Qui-Gon could see she was still happy for the chance to speak with a Jedi, but worry had started to crease her brow.

"I'll try to be quick," she promised. She cleared her throat and lowered her voice, "can you sense it? Before Anakin was born, his father said he could sense the Force in him."

"Yes…in fact, I was hoping to mention that you."

Shmi nodded eagerly.

"Will you take him to the Jedi Temple?"

Qui-Gon found himself astonished. In his experience, parents were generally less than eager to part with their Force-sensitive children. Most would come around, realizing what a bright future the Jedi Order could provide, but he'd never met a parent who offered her child without even being asked. He would have thought Anakin was an enormous handful that simply wasn't worth the trouble to her, if he hadn't witnessed how much she cared about him only minutes earlier. Something was forcing the decision on her.

"Is everything alright?" he asked quietly.

Shmi sighed and looked at the door the two teens had exited through.

"It's a long story…I wouldn't want to sound like I'm complaining. But please, at least consider it. He's a fast learner and I think he'd become a wonderful Jedi, with that 'defender's heart' of his."

Qui-Gon could see Shmi's guise of composure was dropping. He walked over to her and gestured toward the bench, inviting her to take a seat. She did and he joined her.

"You can tell me if you're in trouble," he assured her, "as I said earlier, I owe your son for the assistance he gave us earlier today. Please, let me see if I can help."

Shmi took a deep breath to collect her thoughts and let it out again. She nodded to encourage herself and folded her hands in her lap.

"Anakin's father was a Jedi once," she began, "but, you see, we fell in love. He knew the Jedi Council wouldn't allow us to be together, so he decided to leave it all behind." She smiled, though her eyes were sad. "For me. We loved each other so much. We must've thought that would protect us from everything."

"It didn't end well?" Qui-Gon guessed.

Shmi shook her head.

"We came to Tatooine to try and establish new identities for ourselves, to make sure no one would come looking for us," she continued, "once we had our new names, we were going to get married for real. Unfortunately, while we were working on it, a Hutt named Gardulla found out he used to be a Jedi. She tried to offer him a job, but he refused…and Hutts aren't known for taking rejection lightly. She…" Shmi paused to clear her throat. "She sent assassins. He gave up his lightsaber when he left the Order; he had nothing to defend himself with." She cleared her throat again. "They killed him."

"I'm sorry," Qui-Gon murmured softly, placing his hand over both of hers, which were still folded in her lap. He could feel how tightly they were clenched together.

"Anyway," Shmi went on after taking a little time to recover from the memory, "Gardulla spared me because she knew I was pregnant with a Jedi's child. She gave me protection and when I married Cliegg, she extended it to him and his son as well. She calls us "friends to the Hutts", but we're more like prisoners with long chains. We're going to stay that way until she gets what she wants, or until someone takes it away from her. That's why I want you to take Anakin to the Jedi. I don't want him to be forced into serving the Hutts."

"I don't understand," Qui-Gon stated, staring at nothing in particular as he thought about all he was learning, "why does this Hutt want your son so badly?"

"I don't know if you know what Hutts are like, but they like to own things that are powerful—and hard to acquire. To her, an enforcer with the skills and powers of a Jedi would be the ultimate possession," Shmi explained, "that's the job she offered his father, the one he turned down. She told me she owned my son and that she would come to collect him when he was old enough. Maybe now you understand why I was so frightened earlier." She chuckled humorlessly. "Every time he doesn't come home before dark, I have to wonder if Gardulla finally decided he was old enough."

"I can see why you would worry," Qui-Gon agreed.

Shmi shook her head, the pain on her face now blatantly obvious.

"But that's not all of it," she lamented, "I tried to explain it to Gardulla's thugs, but Anakin doesn't have any of the powers she wants. He doesn't even know he has a connection to the Force. I didn't want to tell him because I wanted him to enjoy his childhood, but now that he's growing up, I've been wondering if I should've helped him learn somehow." Shmi pulled one of her hands away from the other and rested her head in it. "If the Hutt takes him and realizes he can't do what she wants him to, she'll kill him just like she killed his father!" The hand that still sat in her lap turned to grasp Qui-Gon's. She looked up at him. "I can't lose him that way, Master Jinn. I know he's meant for great things; he just needs the chance to reach his potential. Please, consider it."

"How old is Anakin?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Thirteen years," Shmi replied nervously. Qui-Gon could tell she knew his age might be an issue. His father must have told her a few things about the Order.

He nodded slowly.

"The Council might not like that," he said, "he'd be much older than the others training at his level. Although, from what I sensed in him earlier, I suspect he'd be able to catch up quickly."

"His father mentioned he could sense a strong connection to the Force in him, even as an baby."

Qui-Gon nodded.

"Infancy is the time it's easiest to detect," he agreed, "before other things get in the way. At thirteen years, he already has many distractions. Were he perhaps six years younger, it wouldn't be an issue. The council may argue that he can't be trained at his age."

"Is there nothing you can do?" Shmi begged.

Qui-Gon placed his free hand on top of the one holding onto the other one and gave her a reassuring smile.

"With such a strong sensitivity to the Force, Anakin deserves a chance," he said, "if the Council refuses to train him, I will do it myself. If he wants it, he has a place on our ship when we leave for Coruscant."

Shmi let out a short chuckle of relief and reached up with her free hand to wipe the tears that'd been gathering in her eyes out of the way.

"Thank you," she whispered.

[NEXT]

Padmé and Anakin waited outside the Lars' hut, accompanied by the gently-blowing wind of a Tatooine night. Without the suns' harsh light beating down on their dry surroundings, the breeze was balmy and relaxing. Padmé looked back toward the hut's door. She didn't know why Qui-Gon was so open to letting these people know who he was. Sure, Anakin had helped them out, but that didn't mean he could be trusted with all of their secrets. She knew he couldn't have prevented Anakin from finding out or one of them would've been hurt, but the boy had given him the chance to stop him from telling his mother and the Jedi didn't take it! She didn't like the idea of questioning a Jedi's judgment, but she was finding it hard not to under the circumstances.

"So," Anakin began, breaking the period of silence between them, "are you a Jedi too? Or…maybe a Jedi in training? I mean, I think you have to be older to be a real Jedi."

Padmé took a moment to think about her response. She knew Qui-Gon wouldn't be risking their mission without a good reason. If she were to follow his lead, she'd have to be truthful, but the thought of divulging everything made her uncomfortable. Perhaps vague was the way to go.

"I'm not a Jedi," Padmé replied, "we were just passengers on the same ship when it got damaged and we were forced to land. He was going into town for parts and I figured he might need help so I came along." She laughed quietly. "As it turns out, I haven't been able to help him very much so far."

Anakin nodded, looking off as he tried to think of a response. Padmé wondered if he was going to try one of his clumsy compliments again. She couldn't help but be flattered by his earlier attempts, unexpected and tactless as they were. He was a nice boy, but obviously uneducated and, having grown up in such an unrefined environment, improper. She wouldn't hold his lack of discretion against him unless he took it too far.

"When did you get back?"

Padmé and Anakin turned to see two people approaching, a young man and woman who both appeared to be older than them, by approximately ten years. The man, the one who'd spoken, looked thoroughly displeased with his arms crossed tightly over his chest and a matching scowl.

"You know your mother was going crazy searching for you, right?" he added.

Anakin sighed and picked at his thumbnail.

"Yes, I know," he moaned, "I don't know why she's acting like this all of a sudden. It's not like I've haven't been out late before."

"Just try to think about her feelings before you run off on another misguided war on small-time gangs, okay?" the man replied.

Anakin nodded and looked at Padmé.

"This is Owen, my step-brother," he introduced him, "he thinks I should sit around and not care about all the bad people in the world."

Owen scoffed.

"Hilarious," he muttered.

"He's just trying to help your mother, Anakin," the young woman chided him, "it's not like he doesn't have a point."

Anakin shrugged.

"I know, I know…Padmé, this is Beru. She's Owen's friend…well, and my friend. But that's all, though. Just my friend."

Padmé grinned, amused at the unnecessary reassurance that he and Beru were, in fact, nothing more than friends. She politely bowed her head to them.

"Guys, this is Padmé," Anakin continued, "she's from off-world. You'll never guess who she came here with."

Padmé laughed quickly to stop him from saying anything more.

"That's not really important right now," she said, waving it off with a hand gesture, "we just came into town for repairs." She smiled at Anakin. "Your brother kept us from getting mugged earlier."

"Yeah, he does that," Owen muttered, sounding unimpressed. She didn't blame him; he probably didn't appreciate being sent on a wild goose chase, only to discover Anakin had made it home on his own. "I just wish he would tell someone when he's going to do it."

"You'd only try to talk me out of it," Anakin argued.

"Because deliberately starting fights with six other guys that are all bigger and stronger than you is a stupid thing to do," Owen argued back.

"I don't fight them," Anakin reminded him, "I just stop them from hurting people."

"Well, if they ever caught up to you, you'd have a fight on your hands."

"I know; that's why I always run faster than them."

Owen rolled his eyes, but Beru stopped him from continuing the argument by tapping his shoulder.

"It's not good to bicker in front of your guests," she reminded him quietly.

Owen sighed.

"You're right," he muttered. He smiled politely at the girl. "I'm sorry about that, Padmé."

"It's fine," Padmé assured him, smiling back.

Owen gestured at the hut's door with his chin.

"Aren't you going to invite her inside, Anakin?" he asked.

"Mom and the J—" Anakin stopped himself mid-word and looked at Padmé. He smiled nervously. "I mean, mom and the man Padmé came with are having some sort of discussion. They asked us to wait out here."

"That's odd," Owen muttered. He looked up at the door again. "Is something wrong?"

"I don't think so, but she started to act pretty strangely," Anakin replied. He folded his arms "I wish they would just tell us what's going on."

"Maybe your mother needs Qui-Gon's help," Padmé suggested, "he is, after all, a…well, a helpful person."

"So, who is this person?" Owen asked, his brow wrinkled in a mixture of confusion and frustration.

"I think it'd be better if he told you himself," Anakin answered cryptically.

It only served to make Owen even more frustrated, but Padmé could see he was endeavoring to keep his temper in check. Beru laughed light-heartedly at Anakin's mysteriousness, helping to alleviate some of the tension that showed on Owen's face.

"So, where are you from, Padmé?" she asked quickly.

"Ryloth," the girl lied. She sighed. "We were on our way to Corellia when the ship got caught in a meteor shower and was badly damaged. This was the closest place to land."

"That's unfortunate," Beru replied, "but, there are worse places to be stranded in the galaxy."

"Yes, at least this planet has civilization," Padmé agreed.

"Sort of," Anakin muttered.

"Don't listen to him," Owen groaned, "I know you've had a bad first day, but this planet isn't as bad as Anakin likes to make it out to be. As long as you stay away from the worst parts of town, you can live pretty peacefully here in Mos Eisley. Of course, once we have our moisture farm established, we'll be able to leave the city and the Hutts' reach. It'll be a perfectly decent life."

"You mean 'perfectly boring life', right?" Anakin retorted.

Padmé giggled a little, then quickly covered her mouth with her hand.

"I'm sorry," she said. She cleared her throat and put her hand down again. "I wasn't laughing at…well, I think having your own farm is something to be very proud of," she stated, hoping to recover from the slip.

"It is," Owen agreed, giving Anakin an unappreciative look.

The hut door slid open behind her and they all turned to look. Anakin's mother peeked out at them and smiled.

"Oh, good, you two made it back," she said.

"Is everything alright?" Beru asked.

Shmi chuckled quietly and nodded.

"Yes; we were just discussing a few things. You can all come inside."

Beru nodded.

"Thank you, but it's late," she said, "I think it's time I went home."

"I'll walk you there," Owen offered.

Beru smiled and nodded her thanks.

"Good night," Anakin said as the two started on their way.

Shmi turned around and headed back inside, leaving the door open behind her for the others to enter. Once they did, she addressed her son, "see if you can't make up some beds for our guests."

"I don't want to intrude," Qui-Gon said from across the room as he got to his feet.

"You're not intruding," Shmi replied, "I'd be honored if you stayed here with us. Besides, it'll be more private here; you're among friends."

"Thank you." Qui-Gon bowed at the waist. Padmé copied the gesture to express her own gratitude.

Anakin beamed.

"I'll get right on it," he said, disappearing into the next room.

Qui-Gon watched him leave, then nodded at his mother.

"I'll have a talk with him tomorrow, before we leave to find parts," he said.

"Thank you, Master Qui-Gon."

Padmé cleared her throat.

"I beg your pardon, but…what's going on?"

Qui-Gon smiled amusedly.

"It's a long story. You can listen in tomorrow, if you like, but I assure you it's nothing that will endanger your mistress."

Padmé sighed. If it had nothing to do with the queen, she figured it probably wasn't any of her business, but she was eager to know what the Jedi needed to tell their new friend. It seemed important, after all.

"It's been a long day and we could both use some rest," she admitted, "I can wait for the morning."