Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Although it's my birthday soon, I don't think I need get my hopes up all that much… so no, I guess I don't own anything, this is just for fun. My fun and I hope your fun, too.

oOo

"Alright. I'm sure another solution will present itself. I'll check back later."

Slightly frustrated, Qui-Gon hung up on his apprentice. For a second, he thought he heard Obi-Wan shout "Wait, Master!" but then he shook his head. If his apprentice had anything of importance to say, he would call back. Qui-Gon stuffed his comm. link back into his pocket. That he had also switched it off went completely unnoticed.

Just as the tall Jedi Master was about to step out of the shadowed corner they had used for some privacy, Jar Jar started protesting wildly.

"Noah gain! Noah gain! Da beings hereabouts, cawazy! Wesa be wobbed un crunched."

Jar Jar felt that someone needed to be the voice of reason on this trip, because unfortunately, they had left the reasonable Jedi back at the ship. But Obi-Wan had asked Jar Jar to please keep an eye on Qui-Gon, and Jar Jar was taking his task very seriously. Too seriously, perhaps, as Qui-Gon definitely was right when he stated: "Not likely. We have nothing of value. That's our problem."

It seemed that Obi-Wan had made a poor choice with Jar Jar as the voice of reason. Unfortunately, Jar Jar had also been his only choice. Of course Artoo would have been a lot better for that job, but no one would have been able to understand his beeping and whistling, and at least Jar Jar could speak – although that was arguable, too.

Throwing the Gungan an annoyed glance, Qui-Gon thought he detected his Padawan's meddling in the creature's cautious advice. For a short instance, he wondered if maybe they could sell Jar Jar to get the money they needed. But he discarded the idea just as quickly: certainly no one in his right mind would want to buy Jar Jar, and if the Gungan's looks didn't chase potential buyers away, they would undoubtedly run away when he opened his mouth.

Turning around, Qui-Gon strode off determinedly, hoping against hope that Jar Jar would simply stay where he was and not follow him any longer.

Unfortunately, the lanky alien did follow him. They were walking across some kind of market place once again when Jar Jar spotted some delicious frog-like things hanging at one of the stalls. Taking a closer look, he decided that after putting up with all these crazy Jedi and royals, he was entitled to some nice treats – even though he was on a diet to keep his slim figure at the moment.

"Aaah, moi moi!" he said. Then, using his tongue he tried to swallow one of the delicacies. What he hadn't thought about was that on a desert planet, amphibian food couldn't be fresh because there wasn't enough water around for that, so these frogs had probably been imported, were at least three days old and at least twice the price here on Tatooine than they were on Naboo. It was not the first-rate quality he usually found in the swamps of Naboo.

And he hadn't thought that it was attached to some kind of hook.

When it was already halfway down his throat, Jar Jar heard the vendor ask gruffly: "Hey, are you gonna pay for that?" Having neither the experience of missions to foreign planets nor an apprentice to kindly point out that reading the subtitles was a good option if you didn't understand what was being said, Jar Jar just stared at the alien blankly.

"It costs seven wupiupi."

Panic was rising in Jar Jar. He hadn't understood a word of what the vendor was saying, but he had heard one word quite distinctly: Wupiupi? He had never heard of that, but to him it sounded infinitely scary and creepy. Maybe it was some relative of the bogeyman who would come and get the little Gungans when they weren't being good little Gungans. In his shock, Jar Jar spat the frog out again, hurling it across half the market place. It hadn't tasted nice, anyway, much too old and leathery. It ended up right in the soup of some intimidating alien, spilling his lunch all over the table.

Indignantly, the offended alien instantly spotted Jar Jar just as the Gungan tried to walk away, doing his best to appear innocent. Jar Jar didn't want to get into trouble with any of the bogeyman's relatives, no matter how distant.

But it was too late: Already something was tackling Jar Jar, throwing him down on the sand.

"Is this yours?" the attacking alien demanded, pushing the Gungan to the ground with his hands while waving the dead frog around with his foot.

"Who, mesa – ?"

Before Jar Jar could finish his falsely innocent ramblings, though, a foot grabbed his throat.

Right at that moment, Qui-Gon noticed that Jar Jar was missing. When he spotted the hapless Gungan being in trouble, he thanked his good luck. If they hurried, they could leave Jar Jar behind without anyone being the wiser. He ushered the handmaiden and Artoo towards a corner. Once they were out of sight, the Gungan – who had no talent for navigation whatsoever, Qui-Gon now knew – wouldn't be able to find them again. Once again, Qui-Gon wondered why he didn't bring his apprentice along instead. Sure, Obi-Wan could also be quite annoying at times, like when he tried to prevent his Master from picking up Chosen Ones or insisted that gambling was not the correct solution to all of their problems, but at least he had a pleasant voice and didn't talk in such a stupid manner as Jar Jar did.

But just as Qui-Gon was about to turn around the corner to forever disappear from Jar Jar's life, the little boy they had met at the junk shop interfered.

"Careful, Sebulba. He's a big-time outlander. I'd hate to see you chance-cubed before we race again. You see, I picked up the local word for dice. Why are they called chance cubes instead of dice again?" he said an arrogant smirk on his face and sounding very full of himself.

Anakin was very proud that he had remembered the correct term for dice on this planet.

But the ugly alien wasn't in the slightest intimidated by a small boy who obviously needed his perception of reality checked.

"Next time we race, boy, it will be the end of you. If you weren't a slave, I would squash you right now." Sebulba threatened, waving the dead frog he still clutched in his foot around.

With that, Sebulba referred to one of the many curiosities in Tatooine law: there was, in fact, a paragraph that prohibited squashing slaves; the same, though, was not true for any non-slaves, who could be squashed without recrimination – like that pathetic creature at his feet. When the law on Tatooine had been drafted, everyone had gone for lunch, and so the law that made squashing free people illegal had received no votes at all. Jabba made ample use of this hole in the law, careful to only feed non-slaves to the rancor – which was why, perversely, Jabba's slaves had a much more secure life in his wormhole… erm, palace than anyone else, as Luke would find out many years later.

"Aww, that's a nice thing to say. I like you, too! See you tomorrow." Anakin said, waving cheerily after a disturbed Sebulba who was leaving quickly, not wanting to be seen talking to this wacky boy any longer. Instead, the Dug decided to take out his anger on the next free person unfortunate enough to cross his path.

Anakin turned to Qui-Gon, who had reluctantly come back. After all, it wouldn't do to ignore a potential Chosen One only because he couldn't stand Jar Jar any longer.

"Hi!" Anakin, who looked very pleased with himself, greeted the approaching Jedi.

"Hi there," Qui-Gon answered. For a short time he wondered why he had felt strangely compelled to say "Hello there!" instead. But Qui-Gon had never been one to listen to any orders, never mind where these orders came from.

Smugly, Anakin informed anyone who would listen: "Your buddy here was about to be turned into orange goo, which is not a good thing because he is not exactly an orange, and anyone who is not an orange has no business getting turned into orange goo. He picked a fight with a Dug, an especially dangerous Dug called Sebulba."

Qui-Gon walked over to help Jar Jar to his feet. He didn't want to spend the rest of the day waiting for the Gungan to finally stand back up on his own accord.

"Mesa haten crunchen. Das da last ting mesa want," Jar Jar said, shocked that anyone would want to hit him, the most gentle and likeable being in the entire universe.

Still, Qui-Gon felt he needed to warn his carefree companion. They weren't on a pleasure cruise, after all.

"Nevertheless, the boy is right. You were heading into trouble," he rebuked Jar Jar. Then, he turned to Anakin, the annoyed frown replaced with a small smile, although it was doubtful if he was truly grateful. After all, if it hadn't been for the small boy, one of their bigger problems would have been turned into orange goo for free.

"Thanks, my young friend."

Nonchalantly, Anakin waved him off. "Nah, Sebulba is not such a bad guy. He wants everyone to think he's a big meanie, but I've got him figured out. He's really nice, once you look past his hideous looks and his nasty talk."

To emphasize his own cleverness, Anakin tapped his forefinger against the side of his nose. "In fact, Sebulba is a really poor creature. He's kind of backwards, you know? Always says the opposite from what he really means. See, just a few seconds ago, he threatened that he would squash me. That means in Sebulba-talk that he really likes me and would give me a hug, but he didn't because the last time he took a shower was quite some time ago and he doesn't want to make me uncomfortable with how he smells. So you see he's not so bad."

Qui-Gon looked at him, amusement and bewilderment evident in his gaze.

"You're a funny little boy. How do you know so much?" he asked, earning himself an angry poke between the ribs by Padmé, who muttered something about people always stealing her lines.

Anakin beamed at him, glad that someone finally recognized his genius for what it truly was (though he still didn't like being called a funny little boy) and then started his explanation, an enthusiastic gleam of childish glee on his face: "I figured it out all by myself. Did you notice that Sebulba has hands for feet and visa… via… vile… the other way 'round," he finally decided.

(Had Obi-Wan been there, he could have told him that he probably wanted to say "vice versa" and would have pointed out the origins of this phrase - a small planet called Rome full of senators, ceasars and people in togas. He wasn't there, though, so they will just have to deal with it…)

"So I asked myself: Why does he do that? What's his purpose in having really short feet, so short in fact that he has to walk on his hands? At first I thought that maybe he doesn't do it on purpose, that he was just born like that. But then I did some very clever thinking and came up with my brilliant deduction. Sebulba is just kind of contrary: like with his hands and feet, everything is the opposite of what it seems to be. For example, when he wakes up in the morning, he wishes everyone good night, if he compliments you on something, he's really pissed off, and you don't even want to think about how he eats… or that you probably just threw that frog into what must then be not his lunch but… ewww, let's not go there. So I finally understood him, the poor, misunderstood soul, and that's why he's a really good friend of mine, insulting me and threatening me constantly, because I am the only one who really understands him. Sad, eh?" He looked up at Qui-Gon, obviously done with his little speech.

Qui-Gon smiled down at the little boy, truly impressed by his perceptiveness and intelligence as well as his compassion for the pitiable alien. Maybe this boy –unlike his current Padawan - shared his hobby of helping pathetic life forms.

To have deduced so much about the Dug just from looking at his extremities was an astonishing feat that required a lot of insight. At first, Qui-Gon had thought that he was babbling nonsense, but with his clever reasoning, Anakin had managed to convince the Jedi Master, even though he certainly wouldn't have succeeded with his Padawan.

Intrigued with this bright young boy, Qui-Gon decided to stay close just in case that he had finally found his ultimate Chosen One…

oOo

Slowly, cautiously, Obi-Wan peered out of the cockpit.

Good, no handmaidens in sight.

He had tried using the Force to warn him of their presence, but for some reason, that hadn't quite worked. It seemed the Force was not on his side in this. Obi-Wan sneaked down the hallway of the ship, heading for the hatch. He was sure that he would be left alone outside because it was scorching hot with the sun beating down fiercely on the huge sandy plane their ship was parked on. Hopefully, none of the handmaidens would come looking for him out there. But then again, they wouldn't want to blemish their perfectly pale skin with a tan, or even worse, with sunburn.

Obi-Wan lowered the hatch, careful to be as quiet as possible. As soon as he stepped out into the sun, a wall of hot, arid air hit him. The Padawan would have very much liked to at least remove his robe because in this heat, it was truly stifling, but he didn't dare let go of any of his clothes with the handmaidens stalking him like that. If he left it lying around somewhere, he would certainly lose it to these infatuated teenagers and never see it again.

Well, he would just have to deal with the heat. It was easier to deal with than a bunch of lovesick girls, after all.

Once outside, Obi-Wan let his gaze wander. What a desolate planet this was! Aside from a few small lizards and the occasional crayt dragon hiding from the heat in the shadow of the rocks that could be seen on the horizon, there was nothing alive for miles around. But this desert did not only look empty to the eyes. To Obi-Wan's Force perception, it also felt bleak and barren, devoid of life except for the few tiny sparks created by the tiny animals trying to survive in this hostile environment.

Obi-Wan looked towards the nearest spaceport where his Master had gone a few hours before. It seemed dirty and run-down, even from this distance. It felt even more depressing than the emptiness of the desert. Obi-Wan detected a mixture of malice, greed, cruelty and uncaring indifference as well as hopelessness and resignation. But amidst all the wretched creatures, he could also sense someone who felt like he was in Disneyland right now: Qui-Gon seemed to have the time of his life. Contrary to his Master, though, most of the people here had either chosen this planet as headquarters for their illegal activities and a hideout from any kind of authorities, or were living here out of need, not out of preference. What a miserable place this was. Not exactly the location anyone would like to spend the rest of his days on, Obi-Wan mused. Despite the fact that he was still standing in the blistering heat of Tatooine's two suns, this thought made him shiver.

Obi-Wan hadn't spent more than three minutes outside when suddenly the stiff breeze picked up and turned into the beginnings of a furious storm. For a second, Obi-Wan wondered if he preferred braving a full-blown sandstorm to what undoubtedly awaited him inside the ship.

Shading his eyes, Obi-Wan looked towards the nearby city. He just hoped that they didn't have to spend any more time on this planet than was absolutely necessary. A feeling of unease had settled in the pit of his stomach that he couldn't seem to shake off.

At the horizon, a huge cloud of sand started to rise due to the ever increasing storm. From the ship, Obi-Wan sensed Captain Panaka approaching. He hadn't exactly grown comfortable with the man yet. The Queen's head of security seemed to disagree with everything the Jedi had done so far.

So Obi-Wan chose a topic of conversation they could safely agree upon: the weather. He had quite some experience with lots of politicians, and a little small talk about weather had always worked so far.

"This storm will slow them down," he said, not completely managing to banish the disquiet from his voice.

"Looks pretty bad," the Captain agreed for once.

Glad that he had finally managed to get a nice word out of the Captain, Obi-Wan wanted to use the chance to talk to him some more. At that moment, though, Panaka's comm link started buzzing.

Obi-Wan leaned closer to hear what was being said.

"Panaka."

"Receiving a message from home," one of the pilots aboard the ship informed them.

"We'll be right there!" was the Captain's answer. Then he clipped his comm link back to his belt and briskly turned around to head back into the ship.

Obi-Wan followed a few steps behind. It seemed his plan of avoiding the handmaidens as much as possible was useless now. He would be going right back into the rancor's liar. The storm pulling at his braid and robe, Obi-Wan walked towards the ship, determined to escape any further fashion displays but now resigned to his uncomfortable and teenager-filled fate… for now.

oOo

Edited on 2nd January, 2011