I'm just excited. Y'all know why. :D
Gusha is Huttese for Lucky. Shag means slave.
This AU is mostly based on the prequel trilogy, and will contain references to events in the Jedi Apprentice book series. This first chapter depicts the point in the timeline where events diverge from Legends "canon."
Chapter 1: Shag (Slave)
"Padawan Kenobi."
"Oh, I was never a Padawan, Master Windu."
"Well, it's shorter to say than former Senior Initiate Kenobi."
"You could just call me Ben. Everyone does, and it's quite short."
"Hmm. Of Obi-Wan Kenobi, what has become?"
"Obi-Wan Kenobi? Now that's a name I've not heard in a long time. I'm afraid I might not really be that boy anymore."
"Yet you, he is. Also, a long time, twelve years is not."
"Sorry, Master Yoda. I suppose it just feels like that sometimes. Especially when Anakin has caused another explosion, and I have to clean it up. Anakin has caused a lot of explosions lately."
"You can say that again."
"This time, in our favor, the explosions were."
"True. I suppose this shows growth, that Ani has learned to aim his destructive talents at useful targets."
"We have a few questions for you, Kenobi."
"Only a few? And here I thought that you were going to ask me to recount all that has happened to me in the last twelve years."
"Yes, that is one of the questions. They're long-form answer."
"Master Windu, were you one of the examiners for the Republic Ethics course? Those test questions were evil."
"Speaking of evil, this dark warrior you encountered—what can you tell us about him?"
"Unfortunately, very little, Master. He was a male Zabrak, well-trained in lightsaber combat. He wielded a red lightstaff. He had me for more than a ten-day, during which he hardly spoke to me, except to question me about the Jedi that was guarding Queen Amidala, what the queen's plans were, who was helping her. As if I knew."
"What did you tell him?"
"Nothing. When I didn't answer his questions about the queen, he started asking about me, about my relation to Master Jinn, to the Jedi. I didn't tell him anything about that either."
"And I'm sure he asked very politely."
"He was quite…insistent."
"Believed, Master Qui-Gon did, that a Sith Lord, the warrior was. What think you?"
"…I have some experience with dark-side Force users. Not much but…this being felt different from anything I've felt before."
"How so?"
"He was so much colder, calculated. The hate in him ran deep, as though he sought to embody malice. He wasn't just using the dark side. He was steeped in it. I know little about the Sith, but I think that if I could imagine anyone as the Jedi's ancient enemy, it would be this warrior. He certainly had a particular antipathy for Jedi; I could feel it when he asked about Master Jinn and me, about my connection to the Order."
"…How in the Sith-hells do these things happen to you, Kenobi? Enslaved to a Hutt on a desert backwater in the Outer Rim and you still end up raising the Chosen One and defeating the first Sith Lord anyone has seen in a millennium."
"Hm. Just lucky, I guess."
"Yeah. Lucky."
"Luck, it was not, that allowed you to defeat a Sith. Skill, it was, and a deep understanding of how to resist the power of the dark side. Both of which, gained over the last twelve years, you have, hmm."
"Yes. We want to understand what happened to you. You have no idea how amazed the High Council was to receive a report from you, the Initiate we lost years ago. We thought you were dead."
"I suppose it was a bit of a nasty shock."
"On the contrary, young Obi-Wan. Hopeful, the Council felt, upon hearing you lived."
"…"
"More and more clouded the Force grows, as pass the years do. More fatalities, the Jedi sustain, and more there are that fall or leave the Order. Fewer younglings we have than ever before. Cast a pall over the Temple, did news that a mission cost a promising young Initiate his life. No remains to consign to the Force were there, nor even any certainty as to your final fate. Much pain there was, at your disappearance. Lifted the spirits of many Jedi it did, to hear that you lived, and in an hour of great need, returned to defeat the Sith threat."
"Master Yoda, I really must protest. Of course it is sad when a child, any child, passes into the Force. But you make me sound like some kind of martyr, or—or hero. What kind of gossip has been going around the Temple since I've been gone? I was certainly never a 'promising' Initiate."
"Failed you, we have, if think that, you do."
"You mean, failed him more than we did by letting him be captured and enslaved for twelve years?"
"Indeed."
"Masters, I do not blame the Jedi for what happened to me. I admit that I was…dismayed at first when it seemed that no effort was mounted to rescue me, but I have long since come to grips with reality. Everything that happened was either a freak accident or, well, the will of the Force. There is nothing the Jedi could have done for me."
"Do you really think it was the will of the Force that you suffer like this for over twelve years?"
"I don't know. I don't claim to be an expert on what the Force wills. 'Mysterious are the ways of the Force,' isn't that what you're always saying, Master Yoda?"
"Oh brother."
"Hmph. Roll your eyes at me again, Mace, and finding your own way back to Coruscant you will be."
"One would think that becoming Master of the Order would mean that Yoda can't treat me like an irritating youngling that he has assigned to stand on their head anymore, but you'd be wrong."
"Youngling, you are, Mace. Not even fifty standard have you reached. A long time it has been since your age I was, but—"
"Yes, you were an adorable toddler at fifty, I know. Master Fay showed me your baby holos."
"My privacy, Master Fay should respect."
"I'm sure you were a very cute baby, Master. I don't know if I can really picture it though."
"Hmph. When eight hundred sixty-four years old you reach, look as good you will not."
"Eight hundred sixty-four years is about how long we can expect to be here if we don't get on with this."
"Where should I begin, Master?"
"Let's start with the incident at hand. How did you get involved with Qui-Gon Jinn's mission to Naboo?"
"Well, it wasn't so much a case of me getting involved as it was Anakin involving himself and therefore me as well."
"Why am I not surprised."
"Ani met Master Jinn and one of the queen's handmaidens in Mos Espa in the shop of our owner, a Toydarian junk dealer. They came to purchase parts for their ship, which our owner had in stock, but which they did not have the funds to pay for. I wasn't there at the time."
"Where were you?"
"I was, uh, getting ready."
"Getting ready for what?"
"To face a monster."
"Are you an angel?"
The pretty girl turns to look at him, and Anakin takes in the sight of her again. Her skin is so pretty and soft, not weathered by the suns and scouring sands. Her hair is long and smooth, not brittle and dry. And her eyes and smile are kind. She's so not of this world. Nothing about her beauty is harsh. There's hardly anything on Tatooine that can't be described as harsh.
"What?"
"An angel. I heard the deep space pilots talk about them. They're the most beautiful creatures in the universe."
She smiles again. She's looking right at him, meeting his eyes, which makes Anakin's heart kinda do this trippy thing. Ani likes her, even though she calls him a little boy. Ani's not little anymore. He's old enough to work in the shop, and scavenge for scrap in the trash heaps on the outskirts, and is even trusted to run errands in the market square all by himself, so he's practically a grown-up. Not to mention that he's a pilot, and he tells her so. Ani thinks she seems pretty impressed.
"How long have you been here?"
"Since I was very little. Three, I think." Now three is little. He's nine now, that's not little at all. Three was so long ago that he barely remembers anything about being three, except he remembers leaving the Hutt palace because it was such a big change. Also, Ben says that Ani probably remembers that time because it was traumatic. Which is apparently a big word for scary. "We used to belong to Gardulla the Hutt, but she lost me and Ben betting on the pod races."
The girl's eyes narrow in confusion. "You're a slave?"
Anakin's heart falls. Yeah, he's a slave, but does she have to be rude about it? Only bullies like Sebulba would look at him and see just a slave boy.
"I'm a person, and my name is Anakin," he insists.
She apologizes, and she means it too, Anakin can tell. He wants to know more about her life, where she could have come from that slavery is such a strange concept to her. He knows that not all worlds allow slavery. Ben told him so, but he's never actually seen any proof of it until now. It's like one of those "theory" things that Ben is always going on about.
He takes the opportunity to study her while she laughs at the antics of DUM-E27. (Anakin really needs to figure out why the stupid pit droid keeps powering on at random times.) This time he goes deeper, the way Ben showed him. He's getting better at seeing people deeply, not just with his eyes, but with his Luck sense. Really, Ani can more or less always see with his Luck sense, it's just hard to focus on one thing and then understand what his Luck and the Wind are telling him. Ben is helping him with that, but Ani likes to get some practice in on his own too.
The girl is bright and steady, like a magnesium flare. Her kindness and amusement are on the surface, easy for Ani to feel out. But there is also impatience, urgency and…sadness. The sadness is buried deep, with a strength of will that Ani has rarely seen in anyone besides Ben. He senses that she is afraid, but that she is not letting her fear get to her.
Ani's heart gives a thump in his chest. His Luck sense is telling him that she is good and important in some way, drawing him to her. He wants to do something to help her, but he doesn't know what she needs help with, or what would be within his power to do. He will have to pay more attention, especially to the Wind. It will be good practice anyway; Ben is always telling him to "be mindful."
When the tall man comes back in from the yard with his really cool astromech droid, he doesn't seem too happy, which is fair. Watto isn't the most pleasant person to deal with. But Watto doesn't seem happy either, which means that whatever the man came for, he's not buying it here. The tall man calls the girl to him as he strides out, brusque, and the pretty girl follows, calling a farewell to Ani over her shoulder. Anakin watches her go, wondering if he'll see her again. His Luck is telling him that he will, and he hopes that it's right.
Watto is muttering to himself about offworlders who think they can pull the bantha-fleece over his eyes. Anakin gathers that the tall man had insisted on offering Republic credits for a hyperdrive. The boy shakes his head. That guy is dreaming if he thinks that any of the traders around here will accept credits over cold, hard wupiupi.
Anakin puts the strangers' problems from his mind as he cleans the shelves. He's hoping that the encounter will have made Watto irritable enough that he'll decide to leave the shop even earlier than he was planning to and therefore give Ani the rest of the day off. If he can get to the arena early enough, he might have a chance at sneaking in. He really wants to be there this time, even though he knows Ben won't like it. He overheard some traders talking, and it sounds like the Hutts have ordered some special beasts for the arena for the Boonta Eve festival. That means that they're probably especially dangerous beasts, and he just has to be there, no matter what Ben says.
Luck is on his side, because it's not much longer before Watto dismisses him, and Ani dashes for the door, making a beeline for the arena. As soon as he's out of the shop, he has to adjust his Luck sense, which he does almost automatically now. In the shop, the machinery is a familiar song, a steady cadence in the Wind, and he uses it to calm himself, to focus. Out on the street, he no longer has that buffer, and sometimes the world is just so big and loud that Ani thinks he would suffocate under the pressure if Ben hadn't taught him to shield himself, to detangle his mind from the beautiful mess and just skim along the surface of the turbulence. He imagines himself as a speeder when he does this, a thin repulsor cushion holding him up, keeping him from crashing into the rocky ground.
In his excited rush, Ani almost misses something pinging on his Luck sense. He has to force himself to stop and concentrate, like Ben showed him, to figure out what the Wind is telling him. It only takes a second for Ani to realize that it's her that he's sensing, that magnesium-bright flare calling to him, cutting through the other signatures of the beings on the street. He looks and sees her standing outside another mechanic shop, leaning against the wall in the shade of the awning, just looking out at the passersby. Anakin wonders if he has time to go say hello—every second he delays decreases his chances of getting inside the arena—but firmly decides that he can spare a minute when he spots a Weequay loafer watching her. Ani can keep her company until the tall man comes back, and then he can explain why it's not a good idea for a pretty girl like her to be alone on the street.
Ani runs up to her, and when she spots him, she smiles. "Hello again, Anakin."
"You can call me Ani if you want," he offers, smiling back. "I didn't catch your name though."
She smiles again, which makes Ani's stomach do a sort of swoop, like when his pod goes over a dip in the ground and falls for a split second. "I'm Padmé."
"Where's the tall guy? Your friend?"
"Inside," Padmé gestures to the door of the shop she's leaning against. "This is the sixth one. None of them have what we need." Ani believes it. In spite of being pretty close to Naboo, Nubian parts are hard to come by on Tatooine.
That's when the Weequay decides to make his move. He sidles up alongside Padmé, much closer than is polite. Padmé stiffens, the smile dropping off her face.
"Get lost, sleemo," Ani says to him. "She's not alone." The Weequay just laughs. Funny that he thinks Ani means himself.
"Can I help you, sir?" The tall guy is back, which is perfect timing. Anakin really didn't want to get into it with this wermo. It would make him later than he already is to get to the arena.
The Weequay sneers, but the man just twitches his poncho aside. Anakin thinks at first that the man is going to show a blaster on his hip, a subtle but common threat. But it's not a blaster that's hanging from the man's belt. Anakin's breath catches. That's a lightsaber.
It doesn't take the Weequay long to reconsider. He hurries off and is soon lost to sight around a corner.
"Hello again, young one," the man—who might just be a real live Jedi Knight!—says to Ani. "Thank you for looking out for my companion."
"No problem," Ani says. "Probably better for both of you if you stay together though."
"You're right, of course." That makes Ani feel good, that a free man (who was maybe possibly a Jedi!) would actually thank him and take his advice. "My name is Qui-Gon."
"I'm Anakin Skywalker." Ani puffs up a bit that Mister Qui-Gon would introduce himself to Ani like he's an equal.
"Any luck?" Padmé asks Mister Qui-Gon, but she doesn't look too hopeful.
"None," the man says, tucking his hands under his poncho. "They don't have it here."
As Padmé and Mister Qui-Gon discuss what to do next, Anakin studies the man with his Luck sense. A lightsaber is the weapon of a Jedi, but Ben had made sure that Ani understood that not everyone who carries one is a Jedi. There are always a few that end up stolen or lost and then sold on the black market. There are certain beings, like Mandalorians, that like to keep them as trophies of Jedi they've killed. And if Ani ever sees someone with a red saber, he is to get far away from them as fast as he can.
Anakin can't tell what color Mister Qui-Gon's saber is because it's not lit up, but maybe he can use his Luck sense to find out if the man is okay to be around. Ani can sometimes get an idea of what other people's intentions are. He hopes that will be enough.
Mister Qui-Gon is light to his Luck sense, but not super bright like Padmé. He's calm, but there's a restlessness to him, like he's always on the verge of action. He's like the light just after first sunrise, when people are stirring, but nothing is busy yet, and the second sun hasn't come up yet to start baking everything in their combined heat. It's nice, and doesn't seem threatening at all. Ani can't seem to get as much from Mister Qui-Gon as he could from Padmé though. Maybe if he pushes just a little bit farther…
Mister Qui-Gon doesn't turn or look at Ani, but Ani can suddenly tell that the man's attention is now on him. With his Luck sense, Ani feels Mister Qui-Gon reach out to him with a warm tendril of calm curiosity, a question in his contact with Ani's mind.
Oh. Oops. Ani had totally forgotten that Jedi are Lucky too. Ben told him that, while most people can't feel him when he reaches out with his Luck sense, Jedi and other beings who are Lucky can.
Ani retreats from Mister Qui-Gon's inviting reach, suddenly very nervous. Ben had also told him that he must never ever let anyone know that he is Lucky, or he might be sold away from Ben to a way worse owner than Watto. Ani is afraid that now the man knows that Ani is Lucky, he might say something to Watto. The guy seems nice, and Ani hopes that he won't say anything, but all the same, he decides to hide for a while. Ben taught him how to hide his mind and his Luck sense from other Lucky beings by imagining a desert that stretches out further than anything inside his mind, between him and everything else. He does that now. He's never done this out of need, only in practice with Ben, so he hopes that it holds. The sense of Mister Qui-Gon's mind fades.
Ani tunes back into the conversation in time to hear Padmé say, "I'm willing to accept that no one else has the parts we need in this town, but are there other settlements we could try?"
"If by parts you mean that hyperdrive, Watto really is the only one who has it," Ani pipes up. "The J-327 Nubian is a luxury class starship, so there's not a lot of call for that sort of thing here. And Mos Espa is the biggest settlement on Tatooine."
"Odd that your owner would have a part that is not much in demand," Mister Qui-Gon muses.
"Watto's a small dealer, yeah, but he specializes in the rarer stuff. Doesn't want to have to compete with every other dealer in town for the parts everyone has. That's how come he can charge an arm and a lekku for everything. He can get a good deal for the specialty stuff if he buys it used from the offworld traders." If by "used" you mean "stolen" and by "traders" you mean "pirates." Watto also gets the best prices if he sends Ben to negotiate with his suppliers, legitimate or not. Ben's good at sweet-talking people, from trigger-happy pirates to even the crotchety, sand flea-bitten junk dealers on the outskirts. "If the parts aren't in good condition when he gets them, he has me fix them up. I do good work." Anakin puffs out his chest a bit.
"I'm sure you do."
"So just go back to Watto. He's the only one with the hyperdrive you need, and I swear it's space-worthy. I tuned it up myself, replaced half the wiring and the focusing mechanism. It's good for another hundred thousand parsecs at least."
"Unfortunately, lad, we don't have what Watto is asking for it. We need someone who will accept Republic credits."
"Um, I hate to break it to you, sir, but no one in Mos Espa is going to accept Republic credits, whether they have your parts or not."
Mister Qui-Gon exchanged a look with Padmé. "I rather feared as much."
"Not to be rude or anything," Ani says, and sees the corner of the man's mouth turn up, "but don't you have anything to trade with other than credits?"
Before the man can answer or tell him to butt out, Padmé speaks up. "We have a few items that we could trade, but nothing that would command a price that could cover the parts we need."
"So you need more money, and fast," Ani says, and Padmé nods. Ani grins. "I think I've got an idea."
The first thing Obi-Wan Kenobi learned as a slave was survival.
When he woke up on the deepsea mining platform in the middle of the Great Sea of Bandomeer to the realization that his life was not his own anymore, he did not despair. He still had hope—hope that he would find a way to disable the bomb collar around his neck, hope that he would find a way to communicate with the mainland. Hope that Master Qui-Gon would come for him.
But with the blaster and electro-jabber burns on his shoulder and ribs and the head injury obtained from the fight with Offworld Mining Corporation's guards, the boy was finding it difficult to summon the energy to use the Force. Though he found that he was able to siphon some of his pain into the Force, his wounds were still draining. He was too weak. Without the Force, he knew that it would be impossible to resist the guards and overseers.
So he had to play along, bide his time. He had to survive long enough for help to come, whether from the Force or the mainland.
He hadn't counted on the starvation rations and the hard labor in the mines wearing him down though, setting back his healing. He also hadn't realized how much effort he would expend to keep his head down during the day and avoid the other slaves at night. No matter how long or hard he tried, after three days he still couldn't grasp the Force enough to disable the collar.
Obi-Wan tried not to get frustrated with his inability to do this thing that should be within the power of a Jedi. He knew from his teachers and now from experience that getting emotional would not improve his connection to the Force. He was twelve years old, and so had completed his Initiate training, but he'd never learned how to disable a bomb collar. Perhaps that was covered in Padawan training. If so, he supposed he would never learn the skill, as no one had chosen him as an apprentice. And why would they want him, when he had stupidly got himself captured on a simple stakeout, and now couldn't even manage to get himself out of the trouble he'd blundered into?
The mines were a desolate place. Obi-Wan felt the void in the Force when he was lowered down beneath the seabed in leaky, airless shafts to labor at veins of ionite that could stop his life-preserving instruments from functioning. He often wondered how Master Qui-Gon would even be able to track him here.
He occasionally thought of Xanatos' warning about the man, and wondered whether Master Qui-Gon would bother, even if he could.
No. He would not allow himself to despair. He was a Jedi. He would find a way. He would continue the mission. He had to investigate the boxes with the broken circles because he just knew that the solution to this mystery was big, important. Master Qui-Gon needed to know. Obi-Wan had to help him, help the people of Bandomeer, and especially help the slaves on this platform that faced a short and brutal life. He was a Jedi.
The guards caught him sneaking around, of course, looking for the mystery box he had heard was stored among the explosives. The overseers were too lazy to bother with executing the boy immediately, so they locked him away and left him to muse on his impending doom until morning.
The second thing Obi-Wan learned as a slave was dread.
He tried it all again. He tried to push the Force through the collar to overload it. He tried to find a way to break out of the room—if he could get the right tool, he might be able to remove the collar. He tried to heal his injuries. He finally tried to meditate, to center himself and examine his situation dispassionately in hopes that he would come up with a solution that had eluded him while he was fixated on other things.
He even tried to call out to Master Qui-Gon through the Force. He knew rationally that Master Qui-Gon wouldn't be able to hear him, but…they had something. He felt it during the journey here, fighting off those beastly draigons side by side, working together to get the Arconans the minerals they needed to live. But maybe that was just wishful thinking. Master Qui-Gon had not accepted him as his Padawan after that, which told Obi-Wan that he likely did not feel the same.
He still hoped that Master Qui-Gon would come for him, but knew that he couldn't rely on that. Not because of what Xanatos said, about the man betraying Xanatos, his Padawan. That probably wasn't true, and besides, Obi-Wan wasn't Master Qui-Gon's Padawan, after all. He was just a washout Initiate. He was nothing to Master Qui-Gon, and the man had much more important matters to attend to.
The night passed achingly slowly. And yet, when the morning came, it was all too soon.
By then, Obi-Wan had exhausted every plan for getting himself out of this mess. If he did manage to escape, it would have to be through improvisation. He had used his last hours to meditate, to compose himself and commune with the Force one last time before joining it. When the guards dragged him from his cell, he was not afraid. He would fight to the last, but he would accept death if it came.
Like a Jedi.
Looking over the edge of the platform at the gray sea hundreds of feet below was dizzying—or maybe the vertigo was from his head injury acting up again. Obi-Wan was pretty sure that he would not need to worry about drowning. The fall would kill him first.
He was on the edge of the platform, an electro-jabber pressed against his spine, when he heard the shouting. An overseer ran up to them, commlink in hand.
"Orders from the top. This one's been sold. They want him alive."
Obi-Wan was unceremoniously returned to his cell, and left with his relief at his reprieve.
He did not give up. He continued to try everything he could think of to escape, but he was just getting weaker, not stronger. The guards only remembered to give him food and water twice in what felt like three days. By the end, he was reduced to lying on the floor, keeping as still as possible so as not to aggravate his burning ribs or his pounding head.
A man arrived on a ship that he loaded Obi-Wan into like the chattel he now was. The boy was somehow surprised when the ship took off and flew up, not out. Too late, he realized that he had not been sold to another mine on Bandomeer. They were taking him off-planet. Through a porthole, he watched Bandomeer recede into the distance with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Even if Master Qui-Gon were looking for him, he would not find him there anymore. Obi-Wan was lost.
The third thing Obi-Wan learned as a slave was that there would be no salvation.