Hello again everybody! Thanks once more for all the wonderful reviews so far! I'm glad you all like the story! I know I said my last update would be it until I came back from vacation, but, a week is a long time to go without an update am I right?

However, this update will be the last one before I get back from the Caribbean.

Enjoy!

Anakin jammed the key into the lock of his flat, and opened the malfunctioning door with a swift kick.

"Jabba," He called out. "Door's broken again!"

"I'll get the handyman to see to it later." Jabba's gruff voice boomed from downstairs.

Yeah, right. Anakin mentally scoffed. At the rates you charge, I'll be better off fixing the door myself. With well-practiced aim, he chucked his backpack across the room where it landed on top of the table in the kitchenette with a solid thump.

Anakin had moved out on his own after his parents- Qui-Gon Jinn, and Shmi Skywalker- had attempted to monopolize their son's fencing career. Good riddance. He thought bitterly, flopping onto the couch and turning on the TV. He aimlessly surfed channels for awhile, before resigning himself to making dinner. The television's reception was spotty at best, and Jabba had never bothered to fix the satellite dish-which left him with a measly four channels: Imperial City News, Inside the Human Body, Motor-Vehicle Bulletin with Tru Veld, and some children's show that consisted of multi-colored blobs bouncing around and singing silly songs about numbers and the alphabet.

With a melancholy sigh, Anakin got up and shuffled to the kitchen.

Dooku allowed himself a relived exhalation as Wilhuff Tarkin injected him with a pain relief hypo.

"Idiot." Tarkin sneered. "What'd you let him beat you for?"

Dooku sighed in exasperation. "To give him a false sense of security. An arrogant opponent does not feel the need to practice; believing erroneously that their skills do not require improvement. Skywalker seems humble enough now, but once he's proved himself in the dueling ring, his prowess will go to his head, leaving me with a well-deserved turn at the preliminaries." He explained.

Tarkin smiled with malicious glee. "Do you want some help? I'd love to take that smug little son-of-a-kark down."

"I was hoping you would say that. As a matter of fact, I will require your assistance to see my plan through to completion. Here's what we're going to do…"

Padmé leaned back against the concrete wall, sipping contently on a Mountain Dew as Obi-Wan and Mace tore up her backyard skate park. She tapped her board on the ground in approval as Obi-Wan performed a difficult trick on the mini-ramp.

"Front rocks 270 revert! Nice!" She hollered.

She couldn't see his face from the distance she was at, but she was pretty sure Mace had just rolled his eyes.

Mace took his turn at the ramp, busting out a few spectacular moves of his own.

When Obi-Wan attempted to duplicate them, he crashed fantastically onto the ramp surface. "I uh…I meant to do that." He said, massaging the sting from his elbows.

Mace smirked as Padmé walked over, having finished her drink. "Sure you did, Kenobi. I think we're done here, that was 'R' for you. You are officially a 'Poser'." Mace quipped.

"I demand a rematch!" Obi-Wan responded indignantly.

"Yeah, right. When you figure out how to take the training wheels off that thing, come and see me." Mace shot back.

Obi-Wan's mouth worked furiously, but he couldn't think of a good comeback.

"If you want to make sex faces at the fish, the tank is inside." Padmé added.

"Oh! Double-burn!" Mace bumped fists with Padmé.

"What did I do to deserve this?" Obi-Wan mumbled dejectedly.

"Do you really want us to answer that? I have a whole friggen' book full of reasons." Padmé jibed.

Obi-Wan ignored her and reached into his pocket to fish out his phone. "Crap. I'm late for dinner. I'll catch up with you guys at school tomorrow. Do you guys need a ride?"

"Nah, I'm good, I finally got my car." Mace replied.

"I probably will, my car's in the shop." Padmé admitted.

"Okay, what time do you want me to be here?" Obi-Wan wanted to know.

"Um, whenever is fine, as long as we aren't late." Padmé began. "I think I'm on Maul's hit list."

"Cool. I'll see you later." With that, Obi-Wan made his exit.

Like it? Hate it? Review!

See you guys when I get back!

~Ink