Chapter 4 - The Menu is Blood, Sweat and Tears (TPM)

Author's Note: Enjoy the bonding! :) Anyone got any predictions for what they think will happen? ;)

~ Amina Gila

I should have gone home a while ago, but I don't really care. Cotan will be cranky no matter what happens. Besides, I already ate. He doesn't have to wait for me to go to bed. If he does, too bad. It's his choice, not mine. I'm sitting a few feet away from Qui-Gon as he cleans a cut on Anakin's arm, having already attended to the one on my leg from earlier when I was crawling around other the engine. I hadn't even been the one to notice. It didn't hurt beyond initially. I am used to injuries, I suppose.

My gaze is fixed on the stars twinkling above, as is Anakin's. There are so many, endless sparkling dots, glowing balls of plasma, seen from lightyears away. I want to go out there, to be up there. Traveling from one star system to the next, as a Jedi. I don't want to be a hero. I just want to help. It's an instinct, one I suspect was taught to me by Shmi. Most things I know I've learned from her.

"There are so many!" Anakin exclaims finally, voicing my thoughts. "Do they all have a system of planets?"

"Most of them," Qui-Gon replies. Most? There's got to be billions of them.

"All named?" I ask in spite of myself. Hopefully. It would be quite confusing otherwise.

"Mostly."

"Has anyone been to them all?" Anakin inquires.

The Jedi laughs softly. "Not likely."

"I want to be the first one to see them all!" Anakin declares, then jumps as Qui-Gon wipes some blood off his arm. "Ow!"

"There, good as new," Qui-Gon says, but my attention is once again diverted up to the sky. It's the main thing that provides a sensation of peacefulness in our rather wildlife. A feeling of calm wraps around me, making me feel the slightest bit tired. Maybe it's just because it's a reminder of the long day I have ahead of myself tomorrow, I don't know. It'll be earlier than usual, with me having to wake up before sunrise to help Anakin prepare. At least we'll have the rest of the day off.

"Ani, bedtime," Shmi calls from inside. I start scooting forwards in preparation of jumping off the ledge to go back home but stop when I see Qui-Gon scraping Anakin's blood into a chip of some sorts. I'd noticed him do that to mine earlier, but I wasn't really paying attention.

"What are you doing?" Anakin asks immediately.

"Checking your blood for infection," he replies. Something about it seemed too smooth, not completely true. I frown, but I'm not sure how to ask about it.

"I've never seen –" my best friend begins, but is cut off when Shmi calls for him again, "Ani! I'm not going to tell you again."

"Go on, you have a big day tomorrow. You too, Ashla," Qui-Gon says, looking at us. "Goodnight."

I hesitate, but then jump off the ledge, landing gracefully with a soft thump, then take off running for my house. I push the button to open the door, then scurry inside towards my room. The entire house is dead quiet. Clearly, Cotan is already sleeping. It almost makes me wish I'd gone earlier. When I go into my room, I pause under the window as my montrals pick up Qui-Gon's voice outside.

"Obi-Wan," I hear him saying into his comm.

"Yes, Master," comes the immediate reply from the other end. I strain my hearing to pick up the conversation. I want to know what this is about. It sounds like the same person who he was talking to earlier. It instantly brings back the question I was wondering about earlier. Why is he calling Qui-Gon that? Jedi don't have slaves, right? They wouldn't. They're good.

"Make an analysis of these blood samples I'm sending you," the Jedi instructs. "I need a midi-chlorian count." What's that? I'm tempted to go out there and ask but decide better of it. I'm supposed to be in bed already.

"All right, I've got it."

"What are your readings?"

"The first is seventeen thousand," the person on the other end – Obi-Wan, I think – declares. There is a momentary pause, then he speaks again. "The second reading is way off the charts." Shock radiates from his tone. What does that mean? I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

"That's it then," murmurs Qui-Gon.

"Even Master Yoda doesn't have a midi-chlorian count that high!" exclaims the person on the other end.

"No Jedi has." So, it has to do with being a Jedi, though I'm not really sure what. Is it something in people's blood that gives them Jedi traits?

"What does it mean?"

"I'm not sure." I see Qui-Gon lower the comm, which must mean the conversation is concluded. I climb up onto my bed, pulling the overly enormous blanket over me. It's a full-sized blanket, and I'm tiny compared to most people. I'm literally over a foot shorter than Anakin. This blanket is big enough to get lost under.

I pull the soft cloth tightly over me, a shiver running down my spine. A prickle of fear stabs at me suddenly. I don't know what's wrong, but for some reason, I feel like something is majorly wrong. There's a cold, dark sensation I'm picking up suddenly. I roll over, trying to take comfort that everything will be fine. There's Jedi right next door, and there's no way anyone could do anything to us.

**w**

"Ashla, wake up." Cotan's voice pulls me from my dreams. I pull my eyes open, uncertain if I'm still sleeping from the darkness of the room. Ugh, what? I groan, trying to roll over.

"Time to get up, Ashla. Come on. The Pod race is today, and our master intends to go. We'll be coming." The Pod Race. Right! Anakin wanted me to help him get ready.

Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I scramble out of bed without another protest. A few minutes later, I'm running outside. The suns haven't risen yet, but they probably will be soon judging from how light the sky is. Anakin is in the back yard, setting up the equipment for Artoo to paint the Pod with Threepio's help. It looks like the primary color is going to be blue.

"Hi!" I yell, not having the energy to do my usual dramatic entrance.

"Hi, Ashla," Anakin calls back, smiling slightly, though tiredly, as I come in. We hurriedly get the droids set up to start, though I want nothing more than to collapse and fall asleep again. Maybe I can sleep on the way to the arena. That sounds appealing.

The sky is mostly lightened by the time Artoo starts painting. Anakin walks over to one of the walls in the area and sits down, leaning against it. I take a seat next to him, resting my head on his shoulder. My best friend wraps an arm over my shoulders, and I snuggle against him, letting myself dose off.

"Gotta keep up," a teasing voice rings through my dreams.

"Just wait," I – an older version of me, actually – retorts loftily. "I'll be getting ahead of you soon enough." I can see myself standing next to someone – is that really an older version of Anakin? We're both holding blue laser swords.

"Hopefully, you know what we're doing, Master," I'm warning someone as the image is replaced by something else. Master? Who is he? Did I get sold again? Though the person... whoever he is, doesn't look like a slaver...

"We must hold the line until Anakin and Ahsoka get through and blow up the shield generator." Ahsoka. My heart skips a beat. That's her. It's her. That's my little sister's name.

The image shifts to one of the two of us, backed by a group of white-armored people. Someone else is in front of us, running to the edge of the ship we're standing on. My breathing catches. I know who she is. My younger sister. "Come on, boys! What are we waiting for?" she yells, voice so full of life and excitement. She jumps over the edge, and I follow. The air whips past us, and I can see another spaceship below us. Anakin jumps after, somehow managing to pull level with us. I laugh despite hardly being able to breathe from how fast we're falling. Almost like it's some sort of common competition to see who can reach the ground first.

The moment I touch the ground far below, I jolt awake, and the image dissipates. Ahsoka. My heart pounds in my chest and I nearly fall forwards, scooting slightly over as I try to catch my breath from the imaginary fall. Ahsoka. That was her name. And I saw her, even if it was just in my dreams. A shadow falls across me, and I raise my head. Padme is standing up in front of us, clearly having awoken us.

The figure of Kitster riding an Eopie towards us and leading along a second stands out against the brilliant orange sky. The only thing I have to appreciate about this place is the sunsets and sunrises.

"You were in my dream. You were leading a huge army into battle," Anakin murmurs, looking up at Padme.

"I hope not. I hate fighting," Padme replies.

"I dream to," I mutter, unable to get the image out of my head. "My sister."

"You saw her?" Anakin inquires, standing up and holding out a hand to me in offering. I accept it, letting him pull me up. The image replays in my mind again. Anakin and I, with my sister. My little sister. Alive. With us. Together. When I've spent so long thinking we were never going to see each other again. Ahsoka. Come back, I need you. I'll find you. I have to.

"Your mother wants you to come in and clean up. We have to leave soon," I hear Padme saying, but I'm not listening. It's not until I notice Anakin giving me a slightly concerned look that I realize I must be as pale as I'm feeling, and my breathing is irregular. I shake my head before he can ask, taking off running. Cotan wanted me to come with him to the arena, and right now I just want to run.

I dart through the doorways, crashing right into the said Twi'lek's leg. "I was beginning to wonder where you were."

**w**

"You alright? You've been being uncharacteristically silent this whole trip. And have you even eaten anything yet?"

I scrunch my face in annoyance. What is wrong with him? Why does he act so worried about me one moment and like there's no one he hates worse others? "Not eaten," I admit finally, staring out across the sand as the speeder driven by the Twi'lek moves towards the arena.

Luckily, our master doesn't mind us chattering in the front, though it's usually a rather one-sided conversation. I need to tell Anakin what I saw, but I'm still having a hard time believing it. I've tried so long and hard to remember the name, and now it suddenly just came back to me. I can't believe I saw her again. Will we really be together again? Or was it some figment of my imagination? I've heard before and know from experience that they often are partly true, but this... I'm foolish enough to hope.

Cotan sighs, pulling a fruit from who-knows-where and passing it to me. "Eat. You won't have a chance the next few hours."

Sinking back against the enormous seat, I obey before letting myself drift off to sleep again.

I awaken when the speeder comes to a stop. Most of the pods are already laying out around the area, and people are scurrying hither and thither to complete the final preparations. Cotan and our Master get out, and I climb over to the edge, eyeing the long drop to the ground.

I look up sharply when a shadow falls across me. Qui-Gon approaches, gently lifting me out of the speeder. For some reason, the feeling reminds me of something I thought I'd forgotten; it's been so long. It reminds me of what my father used to be like. "Ani here?" I ask hopefully, quickly banishing the thought. I almost feel bad for running off earlier instead of staying to help him and explaining what happened. I need to talk to him. Badly.

"Not yet," the Jedi answers, setting me on the ground. Jar Jar is standing a few feet behind him, remaining mostly silent. At least I won't be here completely alone, after all. I follow along after the two, looking around trying to take in all the sights I can, and hoping I can spot Anakin as soon as he gets here. Thankfully, no one pays much attention to me. Maybe my small size isn't that bad a thing after all.

"I want to see your spaceship the moment the race is over," Watto's voice suddenly catches my attention. Oh, right. The conversation I'd overheard yesterday in the shop. I hadn't even remembered it until now.

"Patience, my blue friend. You'll have your winnings before the suns set, and we'll be far away from here," Qui-Gon replies, completely unconcerned.

"Not if your ship belongs to me, I think. I warn you, no funny business."

"You don't think Anakin will win?"

"He will!" I insist, looking around Qui-Gon to glare up at Watto where he hovers way over my head. Nearby, I can see a familiar looking mostly orange racer. It's Sebulba's. Hopefully, he can't hear this conversation.

"Don't get me wrong. I have great faith in the boy. He's a credit to your race, but Sebulba there is going to win, I think."

"Why?"

"He always wins." Watto chuckles, though I fail to see how that's at all amusing. "I'm betting heavily on Sebulba."

"I'll take that bet," Qui-Gon replies. It's almost as though this is where he's been trying to lead this conversation. What exactly is he planning to do?

"What do you mean?" Watto demands, suddenly serious again and slightly surprised.

"I'll wager my new racing pod against... say, the boy and his mother." My heart skips a beat. He's planning to try and free Anakin? That means if Watto agrees and Anakin wins... he'll be free. Free.

"A Pod for slaves. I don't think so. Well, perhaps. Just one... the mother, maybe. The boy isn't for sale." I want to punch him in his dark blue long-snouted face for talking about Anakin like that. He's not a thing to be bought and sold like some kind of droid.

"The boy is small. He can't be worth much," the Jedi argues. Watto shakes his head. "For the fastest Pod ever built?" Watto shakes his head again. "Both, or no bet," Qui-Gon decides. Please let him agree.

"No Pod's worth two slaves. Not by a long shot. One slave or nothing," Watto decides.

There is a brief pause as I hold my breath awaiting the answer. "The boy, then."

Watto pulls a cube out of his pocket. "We'll let fate decide. Blue is the boy, red his mother." Great. So now he's going to start tossing cubes to see who between Anakin and Shmi can be deemed more human? Watto tosses the cube. I don't even dare to breathe as the cube rolls. Please let it land on blue, I think furiously. I think Qui-Gon moved his hand the slightest amount. I close my eyes, not even daring to look and see how it landed. I can judge enough by their words.

"You won the small toss, outlander, but you won't win the race, so it makes little difference," Watto says, sounding clearly angry. So, it's Anakin, then. If he wins the race, he'll win his freedom also. The freedom we've spent every minute of our lives longing for. Waiting for.

Across the clearing, I spot Anakin entering with his pod. My first instinct is to run there, but Qui-Gon moves to stop me. "Don't tell Ani," he warns.

I sigh, then nod. I don't know why not, but I'm not going to question it. He's a Jedi. He knows what he's doing. I take off running anyway, finally slowing down when I'm a few feet away. Anakin is there with Shmi, Padme, and the droids. We hastily exchange greetings, and I fall into step beside him.

Watto passes by, calling something in Huttese to Anakin before he flies away, laughing.

"What did he mean by that?" Anakin inquires of the Jedi, curious.

"I'll tell you later."

Behind us, the droids are beeping at each other. I'm not really paying much attention to what they're saying. I need to tell Anakin about my dream. It seems like it might ruin the moment, and it's not exactly the best to have this conversation in public, but I have to tell him. Maybe I should wait until afterwards. Right now, I'll turn full my attention to the upcoming race.

Since everyone else seems momentarily busy, I decide to turn my attention to my best friend, hoping no one will hear. "You do it this time," I try to reassure Anakin. He has to win. It means everything.

"Do what?" Padme asks, making me instantly want to facepalm. I'm stupid. I should have known I'm not the only one with good hearing. Great job. We do not need Padme to be doubting Anakin even more than she already is.

"Finish the race, of course!" Kitster explains from where he is a short distance off. Tattletale. He did not have to say that.

"You've never won a race?" Padme asks disbelievingly, concern sparking in her tone as she turns to the other boy.

"Well... not exactly," Anakin murmurs uncomfortably.

"Not even finished?!"

Ugh. Do I really have to go back to this argument again? "Sebulba always cheat. He crash all pods near him. This one strong. He can't crash it." I wave my hand for emphasis. I don't even know how they can allow him to keep racing from the number of Pods he crashes intentionally.

"Ashla's right. I will this time," Anakin insists. I hope so. He has no idea what exactly is at stake. He has to win, to earn his freedom; he deserves it.

"Of course, you will," Qui-Gon replies, and I can hear his certainty. He believes it, and if he does, I should too.

A prickle of fear runs down my spine again, drawing a frown. Why do I keep getting the feeling that there's some sort of sinister presence watching us? Maybe there is, which is why he told us to be careful and make sure no one else knows who they are or what they're doing here. Anakin and I have been careful to keep it between us, but that's not hard since the only other person we're fairly close friends with is Kitster. And even he's not around us that much.

Anakin's pod is moved up to where the rest of them are, and we start working on attaching and securing the engines. Hundreds of thousands of creatures of just about every species are gathering in the balconies and areas overlooking the arena. This is the biggest and most major of the races, so I'm not at all surprised at the amount of attention it's getting.

A two-headed announcer is standing at one of the balconies, giving announcements and speeches. One head speaks in Huttese and the other in Basic. Even though they're both attached to the same body, they really act more like separate entities, like maybe best friends which share the same body. I instantly wonder what such a thing would be like, but the thought of sharing a body with Anakin makes me shudder. The first head begins by given a speech, something about Boonta classic I don't bother trying to interpret.

"That's absolute right!" the second head announces. "And a big turnout here, from all corners of the Outer Rim territories. I see the contestants are making their way out onto the starting grid." Which they are. All the Pods are slowly being brought into the proper starting place.

The announcer then starts listing off all the contestants. The first one listed is Ben Quadinaros from the Tund system, not a name I recognize. Then there's another name I can't understand thanks to the Huttese language – I really ought to learn it better, but I hope I don't have to. There's Boles Roor who is known to be two-time winner, but I definitely know will not be winning this time. If anyone wins other than Anakin, it's going to be Sebulba. Sebulba is the next name listed I catch before he finally says, "And a late entry, Anakin Skywalker, a local boy." The first head adds something which sounds like a wish of luck, which we can certainly do with.

At least someone's nice around here.

Now, there's canopies scattered throughout the area to shade some spectators from the glaring hot suns where vendors are selling snacks and drinks, as usual. For all the spectators, it's nothing more than fun and entertainment. For our friends, it means they can leave the planet and carry on with their mission. For Padme, it means saving her planet. But for Anakin, it means his freedom. And maybe even the chance to fulfill his dreams of becoming a Jedi. I hope so badly that there's a way I can come too if that happens. If Anakin becomes a Jedi, I have to go with him. We do everything together. We can't be separated.

Across the arena, the familiar slug-like figure of Jabba the Hutt enters a box, waving with his tiny arm to the crowd. The first head of the announcer instantly launches into some sort of Huttese speech which has enough praises to the fat blob to make me want to punch them both. Or maybe bite them with my very sharp Togrutan teeth.

A few other Hutts practically squirm out to be next to Jabba, the disgusting leader of the bunch. There's a group of creatures of a number of other species, including a Twi'lek who seems to be his top servant. There are several slave girls chained to the leader of the Hutt, which only serves to anger me even farther. It's horrifying to know how easily I could end up becoming one of those someday.

"Ashla," Anakin whispers, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Don't look." I turn away, but it's hard not to look when the Hutt stands at the highest, most visible of the platforms, giving loud speeches in Huttese.

We're all gathered around Anakin's Pod in the starting grid as I spot Sebulba who is far to near to us for comfort stand on his hands and wave to his fans with his feet. I finish securing the engines of Anakin's Pod, Kitster having disappeared a while ago to stay with Wald. Judging from the speech in the background, it's rapidly approaching the time for the race to begin. I'm both excited and scared at once. This will mean the fate of my best friend. He has his chance for freedom, and he must earn it. This is his only chance at freedom, probably the only one he's ever going to get. Whatever the cost is, Anakin has to win.

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