Chapter 5: Generosity and Greed

Tatooine: 32 BBY

Obi-Wan knew the planet he had crashed on was called Tatooine, that it was sparsely populated, and was controlled by the Hutts. And that was it.

After being blown from space, his ship was only barely able to fly, he had been forced into a controlled crash on the sandy planet below. Whatever had happened to the other ship was anyone's guess, but Obi-Wan doubted the person who had been his opponent since the ambush outside of the Naboo blockade had survived. There were not many things that would be able to survive the brunt of a nuclear explosion. The young Jedi himself considered it a miracle he was still alive. The only thing that had saved him was the distance between himself and the intended target.

Unfortunately, the little Naboo fighter had not been so lucky. Its hyperdrive had been all but destroyed, and communication both long range and short range had been knocked out. There would be no escape or calling for aid until Obi-Wan reached whatever poor excuse of civilization could be found on the desert planet. Worse still the ship no longer had any power left after having to sustain shields during the first and hopefully last sandstorm Obi-Wan would have the misfortune to experience.

After a sleepless night paranoid that the wind and sands might carry him further into the desert, the Jedi had managed only a light meditation which had done little for him than make him more irritable. The bad feeling he'd been having tore at the edges of his mind, fraying his focus. Qui-Gon would have scolded his padawan if he'd been there. Obi-Wan certainly wished he was. Already he missed the steady presence of his master and the calm demeanour the senior Jedi maintained even in the worst of situations. Now Obi-Wan would have to emulate that attitude if he wanted to make the best of his situation and get off this planet. There was still the blockade of the federation to deal with, and an investigation needed to be done on whoever had laid the ambush for the Queen. Rest would have to wait.

Before the last of the yellow fighter's power was gone Obi-Wan had managed to use the ship's nav computer to locate a city that was not too far from where the Jedi had crashed. Now he was trudging through the sand that seemed to layer the entire surface of the planet. He could come to hate the stuff given enough time. Already the grainy stuff had found its way into his high boots.

"Blast!" Swore Obi-Wan, resisting the urge to take off the offending boot and upend its contents back onto the desert floor. The only thing that stopped him was the fear of whatever strange and potentially poisonous insects no doubt lay just under the surface.

In an attempt to take his attention off the discomfort, the Jedi raised his head and looked toward his goal. Ahead he could make out the hazy image of the city, if it could be called that, of Mos Espa. The light of the rising suns made it difficult to see clearly as the planet reflected the heat in waves. It was still early, and yet dawn was as hot as any midday on Coruscant, and Obi-Wan knew it was only going to get worse. There was little to see even from Obi-Wan's distance. Dwellings made of pale sand and rock clustered together much like a heard of bantha, although the streets themselves seemed wide. In the distance, a few buildings rose higher, although they were still nothing impressive. Everything had a smooth worn look as if it had been eroded by wind and the very same sand that the inhabitants of Tatooine built their homes from. It reminded Obi-Wan of an old proverb he'd heard Master Yoda say. Something about, 'from dust to dust.'

As the Obi-Wan approached Mos Espa he pulled his hood over his face and wrapped his cloak around himself in an attempt to blend in. Nothing good would come of broadcasting that he was a Jedi, not on a planet that held little love for the Republic. His clothes and lightsaber would draw unwanted attention and would be more likely to cause trouble than anything. It was well known that any system involved with the Hutts was a place where morality was a foreign concept, and those who did not adapt to the brutal lifestyle tended not to live long.

The streets were already filled when Obi-Wan reached the city outskirts. Moisture farmers leading strange animals not found on the inner rim planets hurried to their destinations, and traders and merchants hawked their wares from stalls that had been haphazardly thrown together without thought of their location as some blocked off side roads or even doors to people's homes. There were shadier characters who watched from the shadows. Some leaned casually against the smoothed walls, while others nervously fidgeted and disappeared again when anyone got too close. Both foot traffic and vehicles were chaotic and if there were any sort of road rules they were completely ignored. As far as Obi-Wan could tell the strongest had the right of way and could go where they pleased.

The young Jedi discovered this when he avoided one large four legged creature with a short trunk and found himself stepping into the path of a rather intimidating looking fellow with a head about the size and shape of a mudhorn's tusk. Bowing in a short apology Obi-Wan tried to return to the side of the street where it was only slightly less busy. However, a farmer with a bantha blocked off his intended route so deciding to make for the other side of the road Obi-Wan tried to turn back. He'd only managed to make it a few paces when his instincts warned him that something was about to hit him.

Before he could react with his usual skills and get out of the way of the collision a blond headed human boy ran straight into him. The top of the child's head barely made it past Obi-Wan's waist and he was more wiry than broad and yet he hit the Jedi with the same amount of force as the winds of the sandstorm.

"'Mmm sorry sir," the boy mumbled quickly, at the same time Obi-Wan made his apology.

"I apologize."

But the boy was gone as quick as that, rushing off between the crowds of people as easily as if there was no one in his way at all. In moments he had disappeared completely.

Envious of the boy's smaller size and ability to avoid running into anyone without causing a scene, the Jedi watched after him wondering why he had been unable to sense the boy's approach earlier and how he'd been unable to avoid being run into. Surely he was more aware of his surroundings than that? Obi-Wan sighed in resignation and decided he still had a lot left to learn.

The second sun finally ascended into the sky fully breaking away from the horizon and almost immediately the heat rapidly began to increase. Making for the cooler areas of shade that had begun to shrink, the Jedi found himself easily reaching the original side of the road with very little confusion and jostling. Perhaps since he'd already had one collision, fate had decided that was enough and let Obi-Wan pass through the crowds with ease. Upon reaching the sheltered area he tried to get his bearings and gather his thoughts.

What was his next course of action? He needed to get off the world and return to Coruscant and the Jedi but to do that he would need transportation. The Nubian fighter was almost out of commission and would need new parts and a full overhaul if it was to fly again, let alone make the jump to hyperspace. It would be far easier to hitch a ride from an outgoing shuttle or negotiate a deal with an independent pilot.

With no better idea, Obi-Wan looked around for someone who would be likely to provide directions without trying to swindle him or start a fight. Not far from his position an elderly woman seemed to be hefting several crates out of what appeared to be her home. Other than the boy who had run into him earlier she was the only other human he had seen. Directing his focus on her the Jedi felt she was a well meaning person who desired trouble as little as Obi-Wan. Deciding she was trustworthy enough he approached her.

"Here, allow me to help you with that." Obi-Wan lifted the bulky parcel from the grey haired woman and gently placed it on the stall set up in front of the sandy hut.

"Oh my! Thank you, my dear. Is there anything I can do for you?" The woman sounded friendly enough, her old voice full of polite greeting and her sun worn face plastered in a pleasant smile. However, her fingers twisted nervously in the rough spun skirt she wore betraying her feelings of discomfort.

To the Jedi who could sense the emotions of others, he knew she was afraid. It wrapped around her in a blanket and smothered whatever grateful thoughts the woman may have had. Obi-Wan realized she was expecting some kind of unreasonable response.

Not for the first time the young man wondered just what kind of cruel planet he'd landed on, where people who were treated with kindness believed the act of helping others belied ulterior intentions.

In an attempt to assuage her worries, Obi-Wan said, "Oh not to worry. I just thought you were in need of some assistance. Apologies if I offended you." He tried to sound as genuine as possible, which wasn't hard as he meant his words.

The woman hesitated, eyeing the stranger before her warily before saying, "You're... not from around here, are you?" Cautiously she looked up trying to see past the hood Obi-Wan still wore and was met with blue eyes set in a serious face. But their gaze was neither hard and cruel like those who confidently walked Mos Espa's streets, nor broken and dull like many of the slaves who suffered under their masters. In fact, there was a twinkle in those eyes that many on the desert planet had long ago lost.

"Am I that obvious?" Asked Obi-Wan with a quick smile.

The woman grinned back and this time it was genuine. "Well, for starters while your boots are covered in dust you are far from dirty and you haven't sworn in Huttese yet." The woman then took a moment to give the newcomer a once over taking in his long dark robes and hood before continuing in a quieter voice, "If you are trying to blend in you are doing a poor job I'm afraid."

The young man's face took on a grim expression, his brow furrowing together. "I'm afraid there is nothing I can do about that. This is currently all I have." He shrugged helplessly.

"Then perhaps there is something I can do for you after all." The old woman briskly turned and opened the door to her home. "Quickly now, come inside. I can't have you hovering about on my front step looking like an overgrown Jawa."

Surprised by the quick change in attitude from the woman who had only seconds ago been wringing her hands in barely controlled suspicion, Obi-Wan hesitated. But his instincts told him that this person could be trusted and he was in no danger. How quickly their dispositions had changed, with the Jedi questioning a helping hand when he had been on the opposite of the exchange moments before. So before he appeared rude, Obi-Wan ducked into the shadowed entrance to the sandy hut. The woman followed behind and the door closed with a gentle hiss.

"Thank you for allowing me in your home ma'am. I didn't help you with the intention of bringing you trouble. In truth, I was merely looking for directions." Obi-Wan said turning to face his host.

"Not to worry, dear. You seem like a good soul, and I would hate to find out that such a nice young lad got involved in any nasty business," replied the woman.

Deciding not to mention the fact he was already in some nasty business with people far more troublesome than local gangsters, the Jedi decided to introduce himself. Giving a low bow he greeted, "My sincerest thanks. I am Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Somewhat flustered by such a formal greeting the woman introduced herself with as much dignity as she could. "No need to be so polite! It is lovely to meet you Kenobi. You can call me Jira." If she had been any younger she might have curtsied back, but her old bones would not allow it. Instead, she continued, "Please make yourself at home. There's not much, but there should be some food around here somewhere. Give me a moment and I'll find you something more…" Jira hesitated not wanting to insult the Jedi's clothes "…more fitting for the heat, and less conspicuous," she finished politely.

"I'd appreciate that. Although I doubt there is anything that will make the temperature of this planet any more bearable."

"You may be right about that." Jira agreed, before bustling off into the back of the house. It did not take long for her to reappear with a pile of clothes in her arms. "These should fit, although they might be a little long in the leg." She passed them to Obi-Wan. "You can change in that room there." Jira waved her hand toward the back of the hut indicating a room in the back.

"My thanks." Obi-Wan gave s quick bow.

It did not take him long to change into the thickly lined linen clothes which were an almost incomprehensible colour that the Jedi could not tell if it was brown, green, grey, or beige. The loose pants Obi-Wan had to roll up around his ankles before pulling his boots, now emptied of sand, over them. The tunic was rough and itched slightly around his neck and something resembling a poncho with a hood completed the look. Except for Obi-Wan's untanned face, he looked like the locals he'd seen on the street.

He stuffed his robes into a sack Jira had also provided. Except for the light sabre that hung on his left side. He let the poncho fall over it, keeping it out of sight.

Emerging into the first room, the Jedi found the old woman laying dishes down on the small table. She looked up as she noticed his entrance. She nodded approvingly. "Better," she said.

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to scratch at his neck.

"Come, eat. It looks as if you could do with something to fill you up." She lay a bowl of something Obi-Wan guessed was food although he did not recognize it, next to the dish she had just placed.

"I couldn't trouble you anymore. If you tell me where I can find a good parts dealer or a place I could buy passage to the inner rim I'll be on my way." Not wanting to intrude anymore, and not wanting to test his stomach against the strange food, he tried to sound as polite as possible. Besides time was ticking, and he wanted to at least let his Qui-Gon know he was fine, and get back to Coruscant as quickly as possible.

The elusive feeling he'd been feeling tickled at the back of his mind.

His stomach grumbled, reminding him he hadn't eaten since the day before.

With a stern voice, Jira said, "I'll tell you, but you can eat and listen at the same time."

With a smile, Obi-Wan gave in and sat. Seeing the young man had decided to stay, Jira sat opposite him. "Now I take it that the parts you're looking for are for transport and not for a moisture vaporator?"

Obi-Wan nodded. He took a bite of his food and found it wasn't too bad.

"Hmm, and for something that's not common in the outer rim as well?" The old woman was quite perceptive. Again Obi-Wan nodded, and Jira tutted unhappily. "Watto's shop is probably the best bet. He has the largest collection of rare parts, but I'll warn you, he's a swindler and will charge a high price for it."

"Is there nowhere else that would have rare parts?" Asked Obi-Wan.

Jira snorted, then flushed embarrassed by her lack of manners in front of her guest. "Mos Eisley might. But around here?" She shook her head. "As I said, Watto is your best bet. He's the only one around who has parts that will work. Anyone else will just sell you junk. And don't get me wrong, Watto will too if you don't know your stuff."

Retrieving parts to repair the little Nubian Starfighter was looking like a troublesome venture, but the Jedi would prefer to return the craft back to its owner intact and not leave it for scrap on an unfriendly planet. However, if that was too impossible, he would abandon it if he had to. There were more important things to worry about it.

"And transport to the inner rim? Is there anyone friendly to the Republic that would be willing to help?"

At that, Jira laughed out loud, cackling at the question. After a moment she regained her breath and said breathlessly, "Sorry dear. I don't mean to be rude but I don't think I've ever been asked about the Republic before. Anyone here who does hold the Republic in good regard keeps it to themselves, or they end up on the wrong side of a blaster pretty quickly. Besides that, even if there were, I doubt they'd be in a position to help you."

Obi-Wan felt his lips thin in frustration before pushing the feeling away. I needed to focus and be logical. I knew Tatooine wasn't an easy place to deal with the moment he learned it was managed by the Hutts. But still. How was he supposed to get off the planet when it seemed determined to keep him in its grasp? He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.

Seeing his reaction Jira reassure her young guest. "Don't worry too much quite yet. This planet runs on money and greed. If you make use of this, I'm sure something will work out for you."

"Thanks," Obi-Wan replied. "For everything."

"Glad to be of help dear." Jira's eyes crinkled in a knowing way that only the old and wise could do.

Qui-Gon often did the same thing. It was a look he frequently gave when there was a valuable lesson that he expected Obi-Wan to learn for himself. It had often frustrated a much younger Obi-Wan who thought he already knew it all, but as the years passed the younger Jedi had come to appreciate this roundabout way of teaching. He had learned he often had to experience things himself before his master's teaching sunk in.

He remembered expressing this to Qui-Gon a few years ago after his first solo mission. He had given his apprentice a knowing smile and placed a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "You've grown up my padawan. It won't be long before I have nothing left to teach you."

"That's not true master," Obi-Wan had said. "If nothing else I've realized how much I still have to learn."

Qui-Gon had merely given that knowing look, and his eyes had twinkled as the skin had crinkled around them. Although Qui-Gon was still healthy and fit, he looked older than Obi-Wan had realized. Aged and full of wisdom.

Obi-Wan wondered what Jira hoped he would learn. He sighed. He would just have to be patient and find out for himself. Rising from his seat he bowed again to his host. "I've taken enough of your time. I'll see about acquiring part at this Watto's, and I'll go from there."

Jira rose with a creaking of bones from her place at the small table as well. "Before you go, let you give you something to deliver to Watto's."

The Jedi frowned. Jira had a clear dislike for Watto, and he was surprised by her change of attitude. He was even more surprised when Jira began to bundle up food that looked something like a sweet and passed it to Obi-Wan. She must have noticed his confused look and she grinned when she explained.

"These aren't for that crook, Watto. When you get there I'm sure you'll see a boy there. Pass them to him. But don't let Watto see!" She had a conspiring look in her eye, that made the younger man have the impression of a doting relative spoiling a child. "He's a good boy. Say you're a friend of mine and he won't let you walk out with any faulty parts."

Taking the package, Obi-Wan returned her grin with a smile of his own. "I'd be happy to."

After gathering up his things, and double checking his lightsaber was properly concealed, he headed toward the door, with Jira following. The door opened and Obi-Wan was immediately hit with a wave of heat and noise. In the short time he'd been inside, the temperature had risen by several degrees. The hot air both beat down from the two suns and leaked from the ground as if the planet could not contain it any longer.

"Watto's shop is not far from here." Jira pointed down what seemed to be the main road. "It's a smaller shop not far from the arena."

Obi-Wan nodded. "May the force be with you," he murmured quietly. There was nothing left to say between the two, and neither knew if they were likely to cross paths again. Wishing the blessings of the force was all the Jedi could do to repay the woman's kindness. Not that the woman had acted with any thought of repayment, but Obi-Wan had been taught it was the thought that counted.

She seemed to understand and waved her hands in a shooing motion. "Don't get lost!" Jira called after him. "And keep your eyes open and keep your wits about you. Good luck!"

Giving a final nod of farewell, Obi-Wan turned and headed in the direction he'd been pointed. To his dismay, the streets were even busier and navigating them even harder, and he was jumbled around so frequently that he knew he would be arriving at Watto's shop with a few new bruises. It wasn't that he was unused to busy places, Corruscant had many times the population of this arid planet, but at least there had been structure, order, and rules. Merely walking the streets the Jedi could understand the desire to sling about curses and swears like the locals. Dealing with this chaos would test even the most patient men.

At last, he thought he'd gone far enough and turned down a side road after having to push his way past a farmer with a very large cart and being yelled at angrily in a language he didn't have to understand to know he'd just been insulted.

Narrower and comparatively more vacant than the main road, Obi-Wan found himself along a dusty street lined with various buildings that all looked much the same. Sighing tiredly he headed towards the nearest place he thought looked like a shop, and hoped he had the right place, and if not whoever worked there would point him the right way with little fuss.

The smell reached him before he reached the open door. The scent of fuel and the metallic odour of rust mixed with the stench of sweat and other foul substances permeated the surrounding area in an almost physical form. Obi-Wan could taste it so strongly he felt as if a fine grit had layered his mouth. Doing his best to ignore the rancid stench he strode into the shop.

He was greeted by a sting of Huttese which he struggled to concentrate on as he blinked a few times letting his eyes adjust to the sudden darkness of the shop. If it could be called that. Heaps of what could only be garbage and scrap were stacked along the walls and falling off shelves. It cluttered the floor and the only floor space was a narrow footpath that appeared to lead out back. Obi-Wan didn't want to know what it looked like beyond the darkness of the shop.

"Ah, a customer. Good day to ya. Want do ya want?" A squinty eyed toydarian fluttered his leathery wings and rose from the stool he'd been seated on behind a counter that seemed to be made from the same material as the building. The merchant continued, "I can guarantee I've got what you need if you've got the coin."

Trying not to gag at the smell as the creature approached, Obi-Wan replied, "I'm looking for parts for an N-1 starfighter." He cast his eyes doubtfully over the merchant wondering if this was even worth his time.

However, if the toydarian noticed he gave no indication, sounding every bit the helpful businessman. "Nubian eh? You're in luck! I'm the only one about these parts that has those kinds of things. At least things worth selling." He grinned conspiringly.

Watto, if Obi-Wan guessed right, smiled as he spoke revealing thick, square teeth, yellowed and dirty as the sand that covered the planet.

"I have a list of parts I'll need," said Obi-Wan pulling out a data pad and handing it over.

Watto glanced over it his eyes calculating the potential profit he hoped to make and then called out something in Huttese before handing the pad back and gesturing with an arm covered in a few sporadically located wiry hairs to the back of the store. "Let's take a look out back."
Scowling Watto called out something in his language again, and the Jedi wondered if the shopkeeper was talking to him.

Before he could ask, a blond headed boy hurled himself into the cluttered room, deftly avoiding the clutter as if he'd known it would be there. He was slight in size and wearing the same colourless clothes that many of the people in Mos Espa seemed to favour although he was considerably much dirtier. His face wasn't much better. Streaked with grime and grease the only defining feature Obi-Wan could make out was his intelligent, bright blue eyes.

Both Watto and the boy briefly exchanged words, before the toydarian turned back to his customer with what was probably supposed to be a friendly smile but looked more greedy than anything. "Let's go see what we can find, yeah?"

Obi-Wan followed, giving a glance back to the dirty boy who had perched himself on the counter with a bored shrug of his shoulders. The boy noticed and gave a bright smile and waved, and after only a brief hesitation the disguised Jedi did the same before following Watto out into the yard.

The outside was worse than the inside. Hulking mountains of metallic shells of discarded machines were piled high, and the smell of fumes became stronger. If there was any organization to the piles of abandoned junk Obi-Wan couldn't tell. Most of it was showing signs of corrosion and appeared unusable.

"So, Nubian eh?" Questioned the merchant again. "Expensive stuff, even for one of those little fighters. Better to get a new ship I think, huh?"

Nodding politely, Obi-Wan agreed, "Perhaps, but as parts are so rare in these…parts, I doubt I'll find a full ship." 'And definitely not one in any better condition than this garbage.' Obi-Wan thought sarcastically.

The merchant chuckled merrily, "Well your loss and my gain. But uh… speaking of which, how's are you going to be paying for all this?"

As a Jedi Obi-Wan had a certain amount of money allowed to him by the order to be used in emergencies or unforeseen circumstances during the course of a mission, and it was this he intended to use. "I have twenty thousand Republic Dactari." Surely that would be enough to cover the cost of his repairs. Especially for second hand.

Watto was of a different mind. "Republic credits? Republic credits are no good out here, I need something more real." Growled the toydarian, rubbing his fingers together indicating he needed something solid, something material. He needed to see money for it to be valuable.

The Jedi's lips twisted into a frown of irritation. He'd assumed Tatooine was a backward planet but now he was coming to realize this planet was not a part of the Republic and had its civil structure and money. Unfortunately, the credits were all he had. He had nothing of value to trade except for the ship itself, which he could sell for transport off world but the thought didn't sit well with him. That was a last resort.

That left him with one last option. Calming his mind he looked Watto in the eyes and waved his arm almost hypnotically in front of him. "Credits will be fine."

"No, they won't."

Surprised the Jedi hesitated. The mind suggestion hadn't worked, and while Obi-Wan wasn't quite as good as his master he was sure he'd be able to persuade a lowly dealer to accept his money. He tried again. "Credits will do fine," he repeated.

"No, they won't!" Shouted Watto angrily. "What do you think you are waving your hands about like that?" He snorted. "Do you think your some kind of Jedi? I'm a toydarian. Mind tricks don't work on me, only money." He rubbed his fingers together again.

Gritting his teeth Obi-Wan replied, "I don't have anything else."

"No money, no parts, no deal." Watto pointed with a long dirty fingernail back the way they had come. "If you've got nothing of value you can get out of my shop."

Trying to keep the anger out of his posture and failing the stranded Jedi whirled around and stomped off before the toydarian could say anything else. He didn't like to admit it but he was feeling embarrassed and frustrated. But it wasn't just his lack of money and ability to procure parts to fix his starfighter, but he had the pressing sense that he was running out of time.

It wasn't until he had stormed out of Watto's shop and onto the hot and sandy street that he realized he had forgotten to deliver Jira's package to the boy he had seen.

Technically, Obi-Wan can just leave on any old shuttle and can call the Jedi with any old transmitter, but that is not helpful to the plot right now, although these are things that will come up later. I have a few ideas for what will happen and I need to decide on one so I can fill up this plot hole later.

Remember to be to be polite and always hide some spare money in your shoe. Just in case you need to by a spaceship.