Author's Note:
Oddly enough, this is one of the earliest chapters I've written, other than the early parts of both of them in Terminus. It's the chapter that convinced me to try writing forward and back from this point and to string together a coherent story.
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= Skywalkers =
'-
Food Issues, a Chat on Padmé
Food security is not a trivial issue. Anakin worries about Padmé. Temptation is never very far from the surface for the two ex dark lords.
'-
"Good morning and welcome to Mondays in Mos Espa at the Skywalker household," Tom said with the aplomb of a BBC radio announcer (Anakin would know, he had listened to it often enough). He never figured out how his twin still managed to have a slight British accent when he spoke any other language too—though in Basic it sounded more like a Coruscanti accent.
The blond dragged himself up from sleep with the same reluctance beside his more coherent brother.
"Urgh, don't mention it." He groaned, still half-asleep.
Anakin still had to adjust from having a week without Watto to suddenly experiencing the Toydarian's interference again as well as occasionally overbearing presence. Their mother never figured out how they would always wake up so early on Mondays. The brothers knew the answer but it was certainly not one their mother would hear from them—the difference in the hot, dry and dusty air always made them sleep worse after a week of getting used to London.
"Did you count the food we got last week?" He asked.
Tom shook his head. "Haven't. I'll get to it and breakfast. You can get the 'fresher first."
If his brother was suprisingly quick to volunteer today, Anakin somehow didn't think too much about it, as he set off. Maybe Tom wanted to practise in the kitchen a bit more, who knows? Finding their way around the kitchen in the orphanage was unexpectedly useful in Tattooine too; it showed in the surprised expression of their mother's face several weeks ago when she noticed what they could do. Anakin was proud while Tom nodded in acknowledgement and looked away, as usual. It was already better than his effort to hold back the urge to avoid their mother from discomfort.
He would've minded his own business then if he didn't catch the momentary stillness that caught Tom, a reflexive stiffening of muscles (and emotions) that occurred before he willed them away and relaxed again. If he was someone else and they hadn't had the bond, Anakin wouldn't have noticed. But since he did, he wasted no time in tracking his brother to their minuscule larder.
"What's wrong?"
"I was just counting," Tom said.
Anakin rolled his eyes. Yes, he could clearly see the small sealed sacks of radiated grain, designed to withstand long years of transport and storage, all piled on a pallet, but that wasn't what he was wondering about.
"That wasn't exactly an answer." He commented.
"There's nothing wrong with the grain, no opened or torn packages. The other dried foodstuffs are also just as well." His twin replied.
"Tom," he said with as much patience he could muster. He would curse Tom's habits of slippery-ness until the heat death of the universe, but not now. He sent an adequate amount of annoyance through their bond, certain that his brother would at least get that and stop evading. "What's wrong?"
"I might have miscounted. We're short of at least two day's ration from this fortnight ration of food."
He felt like gritting his teeth. If Tom said they were short on at least two day's ration, he would bet his backside that they're certainly missing three days' worth of it. Tom saw his expression and immediately waylaid it.
"It's nothing significant, we could still cover it with what credit we've saved." Tom said.
Anakin let out a gusty exhale, doing his best to dump his anger to the Force. He was never more thankful for Tom's resourcefulness to keep their own nest egg than then. Whenever shortages like these happened, Shmi never had to find out just how bad it went. It didn't mean it stopped him completely from wanting to rage at the creature, though.
"I can't believe he miscounted again. That man ran a store, for sithin' sakes! How on earth did he even keep track of his profits that way?"
There was a hand on his shoulder. Tom's expression was as clear to him as if his brother had said everything out loud. This is exactly why I didn't want you to count the stock. You'll just get too pissed off and loud in my head that I'll get a headache unless I block you out completely. I know he's an ass. You know he's an ass. It really doesn't help you at all to care about him that much.
Anakin sighed and didn't even try denying it, focusing instead on just dumping his excess emotions into the Force. Tom observed him for a while. If he was looking for something, he didn't say what it was. It did not seem long before he was satisfied, though, and he continued as if they never stopped their conversation.
"Watto kept track of his profits alright, but I suspect that's mostly because Mum did his bookkeeping for him. It's clear that he didn't count all the junk he accumulated, after all, or we wouldn't have been able to run our side operations that successfully." Tom said.
"Right," Anakin scoffed.
Tom was just as deep in thought, probably calculating how much they needed to buy and which other slave families would most probably have the excess food that they can buy from. Buy from a store when one's a slave once too often and they'd remember, and would almost always report you're stealing from your master (because how else would a slave have too much excess credits, hmm? And why would a properly fed slave want to buy and consume other things often if it wasn't for their greed?). Under those terms, buying foodstuffs in stores were almost always a no go.
They'd also known by now that asking for more would only made him defensive because he either thought that: a) they were trying to swindle him out of more food, or b) he was insulted that they dare accuse him of carelessness, or c) defensive at being found out for his mistakes.
Thinking too much of the pettiness of that creature always made him want to rage—it was a good thing that Tom was there most of the time to handle the Toydarian by being his charming self. For all his model employee façade, there were still times when Anakin could see glimpses of glittering coldness in his brother's eyes—a gaze like chipped azure. He knew enough that Tom didn't have a better opinion about Watto than him.
"I'll do the cooking," Anakin volunteered, but Tom had barely budged from his position.
Anakin had started his breakfast preparation for a while. If Tom was any more still, he'd probably turn into a statue right there and then, so Anakin sent him a mental poke to nudge him out of the state.
You look like you have something on your mind, Anakin said.
Don't we always, these days? Tom remarked dryly.
You should take the 'fresher before Mom wakes up. Anyway, what's wrong? Anakin had given up on prying answers from Tom subtly, as he heard his twin's step moving out of the kitchen. His patience was never going to win out to his brother's, and neither would his skill in subtlety.
Watto. Tom said.
A mental eyeroll and the equivalent of a light shove to the shoulder. Details, Tom, details. Tell me something I don't know.
It's the way he keeps 'forgetting' to account for our food properly. Regardless of his actual motivations—that prompted several unutterable curse words from Anakin—the effect of his actions jeopardises our food security and would mean that we'd have to account for that need when we make money. On his side, if we are covering for the results of his carelessness too well, he wouldn't suffer its consequences. He is then unaware that he's doing something thought that he could hear a slight rise in his brother's calm and measured tone, but that was impossible. This was Tom, after all, level-headed to the extreme that he ended as a little too flat.
We're risking his behaviour to set into a more permanent pattern. Tom sighed. We have to do something about it, and soon before it's too late. It would've been much simpler if we could just kill him.
He ignored that last sentence. That was just the way Tom was.
Anakin tried to remember if there was a time of his childhood where Watto made the same set of mistakes. Considering that he remembered being hungry pretty often when he was a child, it probably wasn't a stretch to know that it had happened too, and only his mother's resourcefulness ensured that they survived through it. He never thought that his love for her could grow even more, but apparently he was wrong. He ladled some of his cooking to a smaller pot and met his mother on the way to the dining room.
"Did you just make breakfast again?" Shmi asked, her eyebrows drawn together.
Anakin gave her his most winning smile.
"Good morning, Mom." He hugged her, to her surprise. Then he walked away without answering her question to where Tom had set the table.
Breakfast happened with the two Skywalker brothers doing their best to hold two separate conversations on the dinner table; one psychic and one verbal. They made it work with the ease of long practice, and there was barely any awkward pause or a silence that was too long as they talked with their mother while mentally mulling over the Watto issue.
On the other hand, they should've known better than trying to fool their mother out of all people.
Just when they stood up to leave for Watto's shop, Shmi drew her two sons into a hug. Tom was awkwardly patting her back with one hand while Anakin gladly glomped her even if he wasn't sure what her reason was right now.
"You boys don't really have to try to solve every problem we have, you know? I'm still your mother."
Tom kept his mouth shut, as most of the time he was uncertain whether he'd ever find the right words to reply to her. Anakin was doing his best to look innocent.
"But we don't, Mom."
She pressed her forehead against his. "No, you're meddling right now, Anakin. You're working on something in that head of yours, the same way it's being worked on in your brother's." She pressed her forehead against a wide-eyed Tom, before she drew away, holding them at an arm's length to meet both of their gazes.
"You're putting your heads together and trying to come up with something from it, aren't you?" The twins identical expression of surprise drew a smile from their mother. "I know you, Ani. I know you too, Tam. You don't get that chatty at breakfast over nothing in particular. Something's troubling you both."
I knew we made a mistake, Tom muttered.
Aw, shut it, Anakin replied.
"But I'm not going to force you to tell me what it is," Shmi said.
"You're not?" It was Tom who failed to hold his voice this time, and Anakin didn't bother to hide his wince at that. Way to admit we're actually scheming, genius.
Tch. You started it. You're probably careless enough with a worried look she could read like a book.
Their mother fortunately stopped their mental argument from devolving into toddler-level insults. Her palm was stroking their cheeks and the gaze that she held them with was tender.
"I trust both of you," she said. It prompted a pang of guilt on Anakin's side, and something more obfuscated and complex on Tom's. "I trust that you know you can come to me for anything, and that I'll wait for as long as you'll need to feel ready. I won't ever force you. You know that I love you, right?"
"I love you too, Mom," Anakin said. He hugged his mother before taking his cloak. Tom stared at his twin with some annoyance for setting the bar too high for him if he didn't want to stand out. In the end, he sighed and gave his mother a quick one-armed hug.
"Love you, Mother."
'-
Somewhere on their journey to Watto's store, the twins hashed out their plan. If the Toydarian ever got careless again with their food supply, they were going to procure food on their own, yes, but they were also going to fake symptoms of lack of energy. Not enough to significantly affect their performance, but enough to be visible. If push comes to shove, Anakin was going to pretend to faint—he had a better control of his physical reactions through the Force, and he could fake the symptoms well enough. It would cost Watto some embarassment if any doctor was to inform him that he had been negligent, but if that was what it takes to make him stop it, they didn't mind.
Neither brother was really all there as they spent their day at the store. It was mostly going through the motions for them. Tom was checking the customer records to see if anyone had their collection date coming up while Anakin was fixing some of the things that the customers dropped at the store as well as nicking parts here and there for the detector. Both could do their activities with only half a brain on it.
I've been thinking, Anakin said. Watto's not that smart. Who knows if this problem is going to be the only one we'd face for as long as we're under him? I don't remember much of my time as a kid, but I do remember the many little miseries.
Tom scoffed. That's not hard to believe.
What if we get mom to meet the man who would eventually free her and marry her now?
The bond wasn't completely silent; Anakin could feel the vague swirl of emotions that arose as his brother processed his idea. He knew when Tom was done too. The calmness returned and his Force presence cool once more, like the waters of Naboo's lake.
I'd say it's a good idea except for one extenuating circumstances.
What?
Mother herself. Do you think she'd gladly go off and be freed if it meant leaving her two small children as slaves under Watto?
Anakin groaned. Of course Mom wouldn't want to do that. She loved him—loved them—too much. He was never happier than when he realised the depths of her affection (which was why he was getting all the hugs he could get from her now without any of the usual reaction of an embarrassed kid). At the same time, it certainly made things difficult. Anakin wasn't aware that he was working up a storm in his mind until Tom gave him a mental poke, reminding him to release his emotions to the Force.
Watto was puttering around somewhere near Tom, disagreeing with some of his opinions and purposefully belittling some of them. If he hadn't felt the dark-haired boy continuously releasing his annoyance and sometimes even anger to the Force, he wouldn't have guessed what Tom felt at all. His face was simply a study of childlike attention. As someone who knew what Tom was actually like, it gave Anakin goosebumps. The blond was too grateful that Watto didn't find him interesting enough today to bother. His temper was becoming a problem again after this morning's discussion about their Watto-caused issues.
You remember what we were talking about in London, right? Tom's mental voice came through their bond.
Adoption? Yeah. You said you were going to meditate on it.
I was thinking that the solution might be applicable here too. Anakin snorted at that, but Tom had continued on. I know that we can't really be adopted here other than being bought. But what if it was the Jedi Temple that bought us? Mother wouldn't have us holding her back once we're out of the way.
We're in the middle of nerf-ass nowhere—I don't think any of them visited this place often.
What if we send them a message?
What if indeed. The more Anakin thought about it, the more possibilities seem to be attached to going to the Jedi Temple earlier.
Let me think about it first, he said to his brother through their bond. He felt Tom give him a mental nod, and they each put up more mental shields between them for privacy.
Anakin was alone with his own thoughts before long.
But what about Padmé? Another voice wondered inside him.
What about her?
What if she gets stranded here at the time of Naboo's blockade and she couldn't leave the planet quickly enough to reach the Senate?
He scoffed. The Senate wasn't going to do anything. She put in that motion because of the unhelpful delay, remember?
And that motion unfortunately made Palpatine Chancellor.
He stilled. The resulting cascade of possibilities was beginning to bother him—all this infinite chain of whatifs made him want to rage again, jump ship to Coruscant. He could use the Dark Side and kill the man—it would be so easy. So very, very easy. His mother wouldn't have to experience such trifling issues as not eating well just because she was on the mercy of a fool like Watto. Even now he could feel the heavy surge of power that lay so close to the surface as the Dark Side had caught on his thoughts like hunters to a wounded prey, ever circling and biddable to his command, practically begging him to use it.
The solution to all his problems had never seemed so close. He wasn't alone either, was he? He had a brother. Tom had been a dark lord as certain as Anakin had been one too. He knew just as well what they could do with it and what powers were at their disposal. They could certainly take on Sidious, couldn't they? Darths Vader and Voldemort, Emperors of the Galaxy. He felt a faint rap at the edges of his consciousness, right at his mental shields
Anakin? Tom asked, curious.
He closed his eyes and dumped the whole load of anger into the Force. No. He had been Vader once and that was enough. He wasn't going there just to end up hurting Padmé, or the twins all over again. Sithspit, had he forgotten how torn his family had been? Never, he thought with vehemence. Never again.
He threw more into the Force and he felt his mind cleared.
Yet all these choices were real, though. They were real and they were there. It was starting to present too many possible future changes and too many ripples. Urgh, he was getting a headache from all this. Maybe he needed to calm down and consider all about it later. Meditate first, and then decide, said an internal voice that sounded too much like Obi-Wan. Right. Meditating certainly beats making any hasty decisions.
'-
It was just Tom and Anakin in the store now. Watto had gone off drinking much earlier in the afternoon, and Tom had promised him to man the store as usual. Shmi was always a little concerned when Tom did this, because Anakin generally stayed with him. Sometimes Anakin went home early and enjoyed his time with his mother, but other than that he went nowhere else.
Shmi complained that her boys didn't play nearly enough and enjoy their childhood. Why don't you go play with other kids? They certainly didn't lack neighbours who had kids. She had asked them more than once, worriedly. Tom and Anakin, on the other hand, knew they had long burnt their innocence to ashes, sometimes by atrocities they themselves chose to commit while they forged themselves with the raw power of the Dark Side. The twins gave her nothing to go on but words of assurance; that they're fine and are capable of taking care of themselves so she needn't worry (Tom's preference) and that they'd be fine and that they love her (Anakin's preference). This was also what happened on the particular afternoon.
Both could sense through the Force that there weren't any other sentient beings in their block.
"You have something to talk about," Tom said without preamble. Anakin nodded. He didn't bother hiding his restlessness and he was sure it was even more obvious through their bond. The blond sighed as he leaned on the counter with his head in his hands. He didn't know where to start.
"I figured that it had got to be bad enough if I could smell the traces of Dark Arts on you." Tom's tone was casual.
Anakin groaned. "Was it that obvious? I meditated a while back then and released a lot to the Force, but there might still be some left over."
From the sound he heard, he thought it was probably Tom giving him an experimental sniff. "It's not much so I don't think you have to fret about it. It had been worse this afternoon. I thought I needed to distract Watto even more to prevent him from even approaching you, in case you decided to kill him."
"I was—"
"No need to explain anything to me. Please, for the love of magic, don't apologise." Tom said over his brother's words, a slight aversion filtering in. "I don't care. There are bad days and then there are the worst days possible. Anything can happen."
He looked up, into the dark blue eyes of his brother's and was surprised to find that they were as calm as always. Tom truly was unruffled when Anakin had been inches away from plunging into the Dark Side.
"Thank you."
Tom furrowed his brows, genuine puzzlement in his tone. "For what?"
"For…" Anakin didn't know if there were words for it or how to explain it. Tom was still staring at him with that questioning look on his face. He finished abysmally with a helpless gesture of both hands. "…you know what…"
"No I don't," Tom said. "In fact, I was just sitting here. Was that flapping thing you do supposed to be a bird? You want to be a bird? Hmm, I guess there is the animagus transformation that you might want to try."
"It's not that. It's—"
Anakin was about to say much more until he saw the amused smile flitting on Tom's face and knew he'd been had.
"Sithspit, you were pulling my leg!"
"You should see the look on your face," Tom said evenly, "It's krethin' hilarious." There was more wry amusement in his tone than Anakin thought was necessary… at least until he realised that his brother probably enjoyed throwing that phrase back at him when he least expected it. He rolled his eyes at that.
"Ha ha. Very funny, Tom."
"Unfortunately I can't even claim all the credit," Tom replied dryly, "Since it's your rather sad sense of humour that I was using."
He gave up on winning this argument when Tom was in better form than him.
"So. Do you actually want to talk about what made you draw the Dark Side so close to you, or was it something else?" Tom asked.
Also, please dump your guilt to the Force, he said through their bond, speaking rapidly. You're oozing patheticness like a drenched kitten and it's distracting. You don't need it and I can't even for the life of me figure out why you have it. You didn't do anything. All those swirls of emotions and then, Merlin's drawers, nothing! Watching you today was one of the most boring afternoons in my life—and I include my afternoons as Voldemort in it standing around all day listening to people grovel in their own excrement.
…and there was the brutally honest bastard they know and love, Anakin thought with an eyeroll. He was bracing as always, like being suddenly thrown outdoors on Hoth. The distance was what he needed to temper his emotions and it brought his focus back as he did exactly as recommended; he released his guilt to the Force.
"So, to begin with what we last talked about: corresponding with the Jedi Temple."
"Such that we might get out of this bloody sand ball sooner and mother would have no reason not to get away from Watto when she can. Brilliant idea." Tom quipped. "What about it?"
Anakin sighed. "There's some future complications. You know how I left Tattooine, right?"
"Step one: The Queen of Naboo had a stopover due to some engine problems. Step two: Jedi Master currently guarding the queen notices the poor slave with high Force potential. Step three: Extraction." Tom nodded with an almost bored expression, waving at him to continue. Anakin had told him the story a few times already, trying to find opportunities within it that he might have failed to see before and getting another head on the issue.
"What I haven't detailed was the reason for the queen's journey to Coruscant in the first place. She was trying to appeal to the senate to procure help. Her people were suffering from the blockade done by the Trade Federation." Anakin said.
"And…?"
"Without my assistance, they wouldn't get off the planet at the same time—only later, probably. This would delay the request for assistance made to the Galactic Senate."
"Did they actually receive any help on that quarter?" Tom asked. From the way he raised his left eyebrow, it was clear that he could already predict the answer.
"…no."
"What's the fuss, then?"
"The blockade was making people starve," his voice was quieter than before. "People were dying off."
Tom was listening to all this with nary any emotion on his face—all that was there was a searching expression. It was clear that he was trying to find a dimension to the problem that was relevant to Anakin that he wasn't seeing. Probably because all those dying strangers weren't enough of a reason for him and he was tactful enough to be considerate and not mention it.
"Padmé was from Naboo, wasn't she?" He finally asked.
"She was the reigning queen then," Anakin said, watching as his brother's eyes widened and stared at him so hard as if he was trying to see if there was anything else he'd missed. He felt a tad defensive. He knew he'd never deserve her. So what if she was the queen? They loved each other. "What?"
"She's the Queen of Naboo?"
"Naboo elect their rulers, you know. The title is—" Anakin started, trying to head off whatever it was that seemed to have hit Tom all at once.
"The Queen of Naboo and the Jedi Hero of the Clone Wars fell in love with each other. Morgana's tits you're a sodding fairy-tale hero." Tom was staring at him in disbelief. "An actual, honest-to-goodness, Hero of the Light with all the crap that goes with it. The adoration of the masses! The countless followers! The people convinced you could do no wrong. Practically ready made, voluntary minions with only a little jiggling necessary to get them to follow you."
Anakin didn't like the distance he felt grew between them, nor the pedestal he could feel he was being placed on. It might not be a distance made of awestruck hero-worship because after all was said and done, Tom was his brother, but it was distance all the same.
"I was a hero who fell so hard he cracked the galaxy on his way down." Anakin snapped. "Being the Chosen One is a big fat pile of bantha poodoo when you just want to live a normal, happy life with your family!"
It didn't seem possible, but Tom's eyes only grew wider at that.
"The Chosen One? Bollocks. Tell me there isn't a prophecy?" Tom had a palm over his face. His tone was the horrific curiosity used by a passerby seeing an impending crash in front of him.
Anakin sighed. "…there is. Though now that you're here, we're pretty much throwing everyone's plans into a black hole, aren't we? What would they do with two Chosen Ones?"
"The Chosen Two," Tom corrected, "As in, 'You're a Hero and I am Too'."
Anakin couldn't help making a childish snicker at that.
"The Council is going to have a nerf." Tom continued flatly. "A prophecy. That's the worst joke I can imagine the galaxy to play on me. A once-dark-lord as a Chosen One? Did they feel that this place isn't burning up fast enough?"
"Hey, two ex-dark lords here," Anakin corrected. "They could've done worse. They could've sent two active dark lords."
The situation was so absurd that after a while they couldn't help but laugh. Two former dark lords set as Chosen Ones—as Tom had asked before, whose bright idea was it? The air felt a bit easier to breathe in as they considered for a moment that things could have turned out worse.
"So… the issue with the blockade is that the death toll rises with every delay made," Anakin said after a while.
"We could try to prevent the delay that forced them to land here from occurring in the first place—ensure that the engine doesn't malfunction," Tom said.
Anakin stared with a look of wonder, but Tom shook his head quickly as he frowned, correcting himself. "On a second thought, forget that. I know why you didn't think of it before—it was a stupid idea. Who would we be at that time? Two kids without the required security clearance sneaking past several layers of perimeters to a royal vehicle. That's close to an impossible job. What if there was more than one royal vehicle? I know I'd create decoys. What if there's more than one royal hangar? The odds just keep mounting, doesn't it? No, it's not a good plan."
He paused. "Not to mention that there is no way that we can ever look good if we get caught, especially once we've gone quite deep. No one would believe mere children to be capable of such feats of… Anakin? Anakin? Say something. Please don't tell me you're actually considering it."
Anakin was lost in thought and hadn't reacted until he felt a tap on his shoulder.
"No, you're right. That was a bad idea, but it made me think of close alternatives to it. If we can't prevent the engine failure, what about being there when the engine failed?" He asked.
His dark-haired twin stared at him as if he just volunteered to be the village idiot. "That would be risking extended life in Tattooine when we know that Watto's an incompetent sod. I thought we were trying to avoid that in the first place?"
He shook his head as a grin grew on his face instead.
"You're going the wrong direction Tom. Forwards, not back."
Tom paused, his mind noticing something but wasn't quite sure what it had been. "What…"
"We leave Tattooine earlier, but we go back."
"Of course! You could pilot a ship, or hitch a ride. No high-profile infiltration mission necessary. As long as you're in Tattooine around the estimated time period, you could help them."
"We could help them," Anakin corrected. His twin only shrugged, not quite interested.
"Yes, you're there while I tag along with you, whichever. So we plan to be students at the Jedi Temple at the time? I can't imagine they'd let us go off lightly playing intergalactic hooky."
"The younglings are called Initiates," he said. "We could complete all the homeworks ahead of time, plan the package to be delivered to the Temple and explain that we're on a personal trip until a certain date. I don't think they'd just let us be even then, but it would've lessened the impact to show to them that we're capable of long-term planning."
"Or it might make them worry that we might be a well-trained Sith cell." Tom said.
He rolled his eyes. "Could you not be such a downer?"
"So the plan to contact the Temple is definitely on?" His brother didn't seem to hear his protest, but the smirk on his face said otherwise.
Anakin nodded. "Yes, as well as making sure that mom and Cliegg Lars meets. We should even do that first, because it would provide us with the motivation to look for ways to get out of Tattooine so she wouldn't have a reason to turn his offer down. Or at least that was how it would go, if we were normal kids."
Tom nodded in agreement. Parallel construction of motives—Anakin was starting to get too used to this poodoo. He had wondered more than once why his twin never seemed to have any headaches about it.
'-
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Author's Note:
Reaching the end of my excess chapter stock because I'm not sure I know enough about the EU. Hmm. Still not sure what to do about it. I had some few ideas from a kind reviewer in the other website, but checking out Youtube would have to wait until I have a better internet connection…
