Man is born violent but is kept in check by the people around him. If he nevertheless manages to throw off his fetters, he can count on applause, for everyone recognizes himself in him. Deeply ingrained, nay, buried dreams come true.

(LINE BREAK)

"Kane, you need to pack your things." Shmi said abruptly at the doorway while I was going through another rep of pushups after I'd finished what limited cardio I could in the enclosed living quarters while Anakin fiddled with his second moisture filter this month.

I paused just before hitting 20 and stopped, pressing my right knee to the ground to brace myself as I pushed up off the incurably sandy floor that was nothing more than galvanized durasteel to prevent rusting. Now that I was standing, I brushed my damp hair out of my face and looked at Shmi. Since I was a little more sensitive to the Force, I could easily sense her agitation, and even Anakin seemed to feel a bit uneasy from the situation.

Assuming that the Legends timeline was maintained in spite of my existence, I could guess that we were perhaps 'lost' in a game to Watto as a bet by Gardulla. The Toydarian had made his presence known just a short week after I had revealed to Anakin that he could use the Force, and had taken an interest in the two of us, particularly Anakin.

"What's going on, something to do with Gardulla?" I asked, suspecting that was the case. A brief thought went through my mind, which was that maybe it was only the two of them going to Watto, and not me. A bad situation, but not insurmountable.

"We've been sold to someone else." She said without hesitation, walking towards a nervous Anakin and wrapping her arms around him. "All three of us." She added when Anakin started to panic and assume the worst. Anakin calmed down at the reassurance and his emotions didn't feel as tumultuous to my senses, but there was still a sharp undercurrent of apprehension.

"Do we know who yet?" I needed to voice it because I naturally asked questions all the time, and this was something rather important.

Shmi shook her head.

"We'll know more soon, but right now we need to get our things packed and ready."

I nodded my understanding and silently went about securing the spare parts and other items we bartered with first by grabbing the leathery bag I stored heavy crap in and walking around the room, picking up important parts while Shmi and Anakin grabbed the smaller bits and pieces. Anything personal could be replaced, at least to me, but these things were what enabled me to exercise without worrying about making myself emaciated or having stunted growth because of the extra food they symbolized.

Whether it was through efficiency or because we had a laughably small amount of stuff, it took all of 15 minutes to get all our stuff packed up and ready to bring with us. So once we finished, we waited for one of Gardulla's house guards to escort us off the premises and to our new master.

It took almost an hour, which was filled with Anakin constantly fiddling impatiently with one of the small parts he'd been working on the last few days. He kept taking it apart and putting it back together, and he was being kind of loud about it. But one of the house guards, a Zabrack, walked straight into the room without knocking on the doorway even. I had sensed him coming towards us, but I was expecting him to have said something before entering.

"Follow me." He said without emotion, looking profoundly bored. "Anything you leave behind is staying. Now hurry up."

I avoided making eye contact so he couldn't see my annoyance and I sat up from the seat and walked towards the exit, not sparing a single glance behind me. The room meant nothing to me, hardly any different from the house my platoon squatted in during the shelling we experienced that became our home for several weeks that felt more like years.

I waited out in the corridor while Anakin and Shmi took a moment, which I couldn't bring myself to be a part of. It would feel like a cheap lie to act like this change of venue was profound to me, when it honestly wasn't. Anakin was a bit upset because of the abrupt change, but he would adapt quickly with my help.

The two made their way out moments later and the Zabrack guard signaled towards someone on the other side of the hall. I turned and saw that there was another guard escorting a few people I assumed were slaves, and they were probably hustled into the now almost completely stripped bare room like we hadn't just been there.

I forcibly shut off my passive sensing of emotions because one of the slaves, a humanoid girl barely in her teens, was radiating terror so much that it was making my head hurt. She was definitely a recent capture, probably from a raid on some planet far from here. I didn't even notice her presence until I knew she was there, which made me quietly wonder about why that was the case.

The girl made eye contact with me, and I froze for a moment. I knew what awaited her on this world and there was nothing I could do about it. It made breathing difficult for a moment and I forced myself to look away, sinking my canine into my tongue to force my mind to focus on something other than the expression of desperation on her pale face.

I then forced myself to think of another topic, like why I didn't sense her until I knew she was there. Maybe it had to do with me viewing my Force abilities like a sixth sense, but I view the sensation through the lense of the five. Mindset did matter.

I could figure it out later. I just listened to the Zabrack guard when he told us to go left and I shifted closer to Anakin while we walked to what I saw was the direction towards one of the palace's exits.

We reached the exit and I squinted at the bright light of the two suns making it difficult to see in front of me, but I adjusted quickly enough and as sure as I could see, I saw a Toydarian outside by the front entrance of the palace that was staring at Anakin, Shmi, and me intently. He had what passed for a scraggly chin beard or whatever his species could grow and I just stared for a moment.

I guess this was Watto.

"You are no longer needed." Watto told the Zabrack guard dismissively, waving at him with the back of his hand in a shooing gesture. "Go back inside."

The guard didn't say anything, but I caught a hint of emotion from him that I had identified as annoyance mixed with insult, and simply turned and left, his posture tensed.

"I am your new master." He said to us bluntly, staring at me in particular. "You call me either master or Watto, I don't care. Now I have work that needs done, follow me."

With that painfully blunt introduction to the Toydarian everybody loved to hate, I kept my mouth shut as we followed him through the blistering hot streets of Mos Espa in the middle of the day.

I would need to be careful around Watto. A clear recollection of Anakin having memories related to Watto beating him was very much remembered by me and I had to take that into consideration when Watto liked Anakin. There was a not insignificant chance that Watto would try to beat me, in which case I'd strike him in response and end up a red smear across the wall and floor.

No pressure.

(LINE BREAK)

1 months later. Watto's shop.

A dull roar echoed in my head as I gripped the durasteel can harder, a dull creak coming from it that made me grin in triumph. There was nobody in the shop other than me as Watto had gone to a bar and Anakin was having fun with a couple friends of his after he finished his work, while Shmi had an errand to run.

So the place was all to myself as I trained and finished up the last allotment of work I had.

I had become confident in being able to consistently move smaller objects with my mind and sink into the Force to a decent enough level where I could sense the presence of people in a couple hundred yard radius. Being outside of the slave pens where there were people stacked on top of other people helped, and everything was less congested to my senses.

Next came my current object of self study- physical strength enhancement. I had done this every day since then, driving myself almost up the wall as I struggled to, but I finally managed.

There was no way in hell some recently turned 11 year old could have managed to make durasteel, which was several magnitudes stronger than the steel of my world, creak slightly. But I did with the limited Force augmentation I've managed.

With that little experiment done, I went back to fishing through a junk pile to see if anything was salvageable for Watto to sell after repairing it. Speaking of the Toydarian, he was surprisingly less arbitrary than the overseers. He was still a disgusting animal that had hit me across the shoulder when I didn't show the 'necessary respect', but it was a far cry from an actual beating.

So long as he didn't touch Anakin, I could suffer it.

The rest of this little session had me wargaming over the different skills I was learning in preparation for the worst case scenario, which was Qui-gon only taking Anakin and me being unable to get Vos to inform the Order that I was on Tatooine too and could do with a little emancipation via bartering a ship.

That left two options to obtain my freedom and later Shmi's.

Neither were things I put much thought into until I realized just how ridiculously good I was at self teaching myself how to use the Force, or I was very powerful; Council Master level in raw power was not out of the question, and that made me feel almost giddy at the prospect.

With how well I had progressed, I could become a podracer or gladiator and be damned good at it, good enough to eventually earn my freedom. The downside to the latter was that I would have to wait until I wasn't so massively short or I'd straight up die. Which, given I'd be about 15 if the current trajectory of the timeline continued, then it would be difficult for a while.

So podracing it was for now.

Yeah, that would work.

(LINE BREAK)

"But, Kaaaannnee!" Anakin whined, pouting as he glared up at me and suppressed a cough. "I wanna help!"

I pressed my fingers against my brow and exhaled in annoyance, currently trying to prepare to build one of two thrusters for a pod...

A pod that I was going to race in eventually.

Me planning on taking Anakin's place had nothing to do with me wanting to protect him, because he managed to survive it without my presence. I did it because podracing sounded fun.

So, I had the brilliant idea to give Anakin the idea that we could build a pod together and we'd race it to gain money, fame, and our eventual freedom.

But Anakin was currently sick with what was a close equivalent to the flu and it was the middle of the night. I was staying up and assembling a shitty thruster I'd literally dragged out of a junk pile and was currently gutting and stuffing functioning parts in.

"Anakin," I said his name with the same sternness Shmi used when he was complaining about something as stupid as this, "You're not going to help with this until you feel better. No ifs or buts."

I then went back and continued to replace a few wires in the thruster that were overdue after the mileage on them, frowning to myself as I sensed Anakin's annoyance flare up at my ignoring of him.

"Fine, I'll just do something else." He declared, storming out of the room to do God knows what.

Ugh, I'm going to have to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid, don't I? I asked myself, scowling now as I continued removing the wires and splicing new ones in.

I meticulously examined the prospective pod's thruster, still surrounded by an array of scattered tools. The worn-out wires were continued to be delicately removed, revealing the intricate internal components beneath. I integrated new, resilient wires, my hands moving with a practiced ease I honed through countless repairs. The beatings from Gardulla's overseers made me learn fast and I was now finally reaping the benefits.

As I delved deeper into the thruster's internals, I identified other components in need of attention and I scowled to myself. I carefully replaced aging connectors, their surfaces showing signs of wear. The occasional scowl continued to cross my face, reflecting the challenges of navigating the tight spaces within the engine's framework.

The room hummed with the sounds of mechanical activity as I methodically worked through the intricacies of each internal part. Tiny sparks flickered momentarily where I spliced parts together, and the glow of diagnostic displays illuminated my hands and face as I kept at it. The thruster's inner guts started to resemble in my mind a canvas for my work, and with each adjustment, I got closer to actually making the stupid hunk of junk a proper engine.

In the backdrop of clinking tools and subtle mechanical whirring of the tools I was using, the thruster gradually transformed into an almost functional piece of engineering. My careful replacement of internal parts finally came to an end and I stepped away, grimacing as I had grease and rust staining my hands and forearms.

"You better be worth it." I muttered at the thruster I had just spent the entire day fixing.

I was too tired to care about anything else and I just went over to the sink, used precious water to wet a rag and scrubbed myself off as best as I could, chucked the rag into a bin that would dehumidify the rag to harvest the water, and I took a few steps from the sink and crashed on the cot I'd laid out in the corner. I was too tired to care and closed my eyes.

(LINE BREAK)

Anakin and his friend, Kitser, had snuck away from Kitser's overseer to have some fun and play a game they called 'Sith Warrior' after seeing that cool vid played by that droid Anakin had found in Watto's shop. Armed with fake swords, they engaged in a lively duel that amounted to them hitting each other as they laughed and the sound of their makeshift blades clashing echoed in the side street they were at.

Anakin, with his messy hair and focused expression, proved to be the better skilled in the game because of his prior fun with Kane. Kitser matched his enthusiasm with a mischievous grin, albeit moving slower and with literally no technique.

Their laughter echoed in the somewhat secluded area as they swung their fake swords, fully immersed in the thrill of their makeshift adventure. 'Sith Warrior' became a temporary escape from their daily routine, allowing the two boys to be the heroes of their own story for a little while.

In the midst of their game, Anakin out of nowhere sensed an unsettling shift. It wasn't the first time he felt this sensation – a strange awareness that his brother Kane had taught him to recognize during their meditation sessions.

It screamed danger, and Kane said to always trust his gut instinct.

Stopping the game suddenly and grabbing Kitser's arm urgently, Anakin whispered, "We need to leave, now."

Kitser, obviously confused, hesitated and looked at him strangely. "Anakin, what's wrong?"

Anakin, recalling Kane's teachings, insisted, "Trust me, we have to go. I think something dangerous is coming, maybe the overseer."

That seemed to get through to Kitser, the boy's dark eyes widening

Finally understanding the urgency, Kitser nodded, and they both scattered in different directions, disappearing from their spot. The once-bustling 'dueling ground' now stood empty and the playful atmosphere was replaced by a quick and silent retreat prompted by Anakin's recognition of that strange feeling of imminent danger.

Deciding to peek around a corner after running far enough, Anakin saw that one of the overseers assigned to several slaves, including Kitser, was looking around with a deep scowl on his face as he looked around.

That was enough to have Anakin running back home. Kane teaching him to trust the messages that the Force gave him just saved Kitser from a beating and Watto probably would have smacked him for being stupid.

With that in mind, Anakin ran towards the small market near Watto's shop and needed to do something to calm his racing heart, something like looking at some of the trinkets and maybe eavesdropping on some spacers and smugglers at the cantina.

(LINE BREAK)

In one of the scorching Tatooine scrapyards, me and Anakin sifted through discarded tech for some parts for the pod. The suns blazed overhead as we scavenged like a couple of Jawas. Most of the discarded parts were from worn out sections of speeders, pods, and the occasional starship.

I kept what was the equivalent of a Tatooine sombrero on to protect me from the sun and I kept fishing for parts, tossing whatever seemed useful for barter or personal use in a cloth bag.

Anakin was doing his own thing not far from me, except he was grabbing more visibly damaged parts that he could almost certainly fix. I was alright, but that precocious brat was an entirely different animal when it came to fixing stuff.

While I was staring at Anakin for a second, I noticed his emotions suddenly brightening. Sure enough, he called out, "Hey, Kane, check this out!"

I approached, intrigued by the excitement in his voice.

He held up a salvaged engine coil, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Think we can use this for the pod?" Anakin grinned, and I couldn't help but smile back. The kid had an instinct for this kind of thing that surpassed my own, almost frighteningly so.

"Yeah, good find, Ani," I replied, patting him on the back. "Put that in your actual pocket so we don't mix it with the other stuff."

After Anakin stowed it away like I advised him to, we continued our search, the scrapyard revealing hidden treasures as the suns dipped lower on the horizon.

As the shadows lengthened, Anakin asked me a question that had me freezing in place from me not expecting it at all.

"Kane, what's a Sith?"

"I… wha-... where did you hear that?" Words failed me as I scrambled to understand what I'd just heard come from my brother.

I honestly couldn't remember if Anakin even knew about them at this point in Legends. I vaguely remembered something about him finding a lightsaber in a scrap pile, even a holocron was found by him at some point. But none of that had occurred so far, because I had made Anakin promise to share with me anything that was super special. So, I couldn't understand where the Hell he heard it from.

"Um," He started, suddenly looking uncomfortable as he shifted his body weight awkwardly, "I, uh, found a droid that showed these Sith guys with laser swords. It was so wizard! But somebody at the cantin-, uh, the market said the Sith were bad guys. Is that, you know, true?" His tone raised an entire note at the last word as he looked up at me.

"Okay, first," I stared at him sternly, "You are a terrible liar. Either tell the truth or lie better. Nobody likes a liar, double so for bad ones. Mom may hate it when you go exploring, but what did I say to you when I caught you last month?"

"Well? Ani, use your words." I said in an intentionally babying tone that had him making a face at me.

"You said that I needed to hide better or be polite and say hello." He mumbled, struggling to keep eye contact as his face flushed pink.

"Exactly." I said. "Better to be nice though, you can learn a lot from a guy that likes you." I could personally attest to that in the case of Jango almost 5 years ago. That man very likely saved my life because I knew I was in Legends now, and that was a debt I intended to repay somehow. Honour compelled it.

Focus. You're getting sidetracked.

"But okay, I'll tell you about the Sith." I said, shifting my grip on the bag of scavenge. "Let's find some shade and then I can talk."

I hated this weather and wasn't going to give a history lesson while I was getting turned into smoked sausage under two suns. Even before I got blown up by that grenade and sent to a new life with all my memories and personality intact, I preferred chillier weather. This new body seemed to adopt my old German and Celt blood memories of shitty weather tolerance and desire for cold, ill-temperament, and thirst for a stiff pint after a bad day. The desert was meant for people that weren't me, and the fact that I was killed in a desert hill region reinforced that.

Anakin followed right behind me as I went over to an upturned speeder that had a ripped in half ship engine and a hunk of metal that might have been a speeder bike at some point on top of it. It acted like a sort of patio awning for this sandy and dry scrapyard.

Setting down my bag of junk with a loud jingle of metal hitting metal, I sat down heavily and basked in the wash of cooler air now that I was out of the direct sunlight.

Anakin set his own bag down and sat cross legged next to me, his attention on my face as he waited for the promised lesson.

"Alright, so you know the basics about Jedi from all those smugglers and guys at the cantinas, right?" I asked, waiting for the nod of confirmation that turned out to come just a second after I finished asking. "Well, think of how the Jedi protect the good people, fight evil, and even free slaves. The Sith are the opposite, they are selfish and own slaves."

"So they are bad guys." Anakin said quietly, obviously startled by that information.

"Not just bad, Anakin." I made sure to stress the seriousness of what I was about to tell him. What came from my mouth would almost certainly stop him from ever becoming a Sith. "I heard of a Sith that killed his own brother."

Anakin's presence in the Force was instantly stained a disgusting shade and just pressing against it lightly with my mental touch made me shiver in discomfort. His expression was an almost exaggerated horror that only a child could manage.

"I… no." He mumbled weakly. "Nobody could be that bad. No."

"Ani," I whispered gently, "The Sith use their hatred and anger to be powerful, and it makes it impossible for them to feel love. It makes you go crazy, like that rabid womp rat that ate its babies, remember?"

I had completely clamped down on projecting my senses outward as I said that. I was intentionally lying about Sith being unable to feel love and didn't want Anakin to possibly pick up on it accidentally. Conditioning this kid to be repelled by the idea of the Dark Side was mandatory, and promises of going insane and killing family would make Anakin averse to it.

The Dark Side was like meth. It'd make you a monster and practically bulletproof, but it'd gnaw holes into your soul like what meth did to your brain.

Anakin's face pulled me from those thoughts as he started to tear up, his eyes glistening and his lip quivering.

"But don't you worry." I said, wrapping my arm around his shoulder to hold him close. "The Jedi fought the Sith and beat them. They're all gone and only those buckets of bolts made by them are left. The good guys always win in the end."

That last part actually tasted foul to me. I don't think I ever actually made that boldfaced of a lie before.

"You promise?" He asked quietly, inquisitive blue eyes staring up at my own. The image was ruined by him wiping his nose with his sleeve.

"I promise," I nodded, "And if I'm wrong and there's more of those sleemo out there, then I'll just need to get off this planet and punch them until they admit they're wrong."

That vow seemed to shake Anakin from the horrified state of mind he was in and he smiled slightly.

"Now come on, it's getting late and I'm hungry." I said as I stood up. "Mom's making that stew, remember?"

With that, we gathered our salvaged loot and headed back towards the section of Mos Espa that was our sort of neighborhood. After nodding a greeting or two to some of the people still at the small marketplace, I entered our dwelling as the door hissed open.

"We're back, mom!" I called out, letting her know it was us.

I heard her say something in response from the kitchen, but I couldn't catch what was said because my shin hit the bag of metal parts as I stepped and I had to stifle a few choice words that'd be kind of difficult to explain the context of to Anakin.

"Give me your bag Anakin and wash up." I said, reaching out with my left hand to take his bag. Anakin handed his much lighter bag to me and I carried both into the back room where we were assembling the pods.

Grunting as I walked across our living/dining room, I reached the doorway to our workroom and set the bags down in the corner. I coughed slightly as some dust was kicked up from me putting the bags down and I wiped at my face with my sleeve, before walking out of the room and debating whether I should build an air filter to get the excess dust out of the room.

I got back into the front room and saw Anakin playing with the engine coil still, and he looked like he still hadn't washed up.

Sighing, I clicked my tongue loudly and Anakin jumped slightly, staring at me with wide eyes as he realized I caught him not listening. "Wash your hands so we can eat."

Anakin huffed and complied, walking into the kitchen.

That evening was rather uneventful compared to the actual subject I'd brought up with Anakin today, and dinner went by quickly and I decided to go to sleep early so I could get up before daybreak tomorrow.

(LINE BREAK)

Crouched in the dim corners of the cantina, I sat at one of the tables to overhear the conversations among smugglers and bounty hunters, as well as get out of the house so to speak. Watto had gotten drunk and had closed the shop for the day, which was odd since it meant no money for the day. But I wasn't going to complain, because that gave me another day to grab scrap from the scrapyard and Anakin could repair the parts and other pieces of junk.

As it was, I decided to listen in on some conversation out of boredom and also wanting to be kept appraised of any sketchy events that might affect Tatooine in the foreseeable future.

As I absorbed the snippets of conversation, the cantina's current bartender, a grizzled Rodian named Neesh, eyed me suspiciously and grumbled. "Kane, you're not supposed to be here. Either buy a drink or get lost."

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

I rolled my eyes, replying with a hint of sarcasm, "Sure, give me a cup of your finest blue milk."

I'd fixed one of the drink mixers the owner had been intending to replace back a month ago and the favour I asked for was that I get to chill every now and then inside, and I'd maybe order a drink every now and then when I had some pocket change to get the equivalent of a cheap beer. Sitting here was relaxing and I got to actually hear adult conversation I was familiar with instead of constantly trying to play the role of older brother and educator of Anakin. Sometimes, I just needed a break to act as myself.

The Rodian scowled, unamused by my like of seriousness, "Kid, don't test my patience. Buy something real or scram."

Of course, this ass that certainly stank like one, goddamn bug eyes' pheromones, didn't like me basically squatting here and I contemplated either leaving and starting my scrap run or stay a bit.

My answer was provided for me when a few men, two of them with armored chest plates of white plastoid and one of the armored ones was looking very animated, borderline jovial, entered the cantina and the door opened with a scraping hiss from the sand in the frame. A gust of hot air came in and I squinted slightly at the light contrast between outside and the dimly lit and barely hazy atmosphere here.

Feeling the heat outside, I shrugged and rolled my eyes at Neesh. "Alright, just let me stay for a bit. It's scorching out there, and I don't fancy another trek through the sand just yet."

The Rodian narrowed his eyes, but finally relented, "Fine, but don't cause trouble. And next time, buy something or don't bother coming in."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be sure to actually get some whiskey or something. Yessir, massa." I just waved dismissively at him, making him scowl and turn his back. My wave transitioned into me flipping him off and I just let my hand fall to my side, my other reaching towards the table and taking another gulp of water from the glass.

In my world, if you wanted to be taken seriously, don't smell like an unwashed rectal cavity. And I wasn't racist, not one bit. I just don't like people who aren't like me, look like me, or sound like me.

As I ruminated over those perfectly healthy thoughts and mindsets that definitely had no downsides in the greater world, I overheard the one bounty that was happy, evidently named Jax from his partner saying it more than once, was weaving a tale of grandiose proportions over a bottle of very expensive alcohol that was being shared among the five men.

Out of muted curiosity, I watched as Jax leaned in, his voice a raspy drawl, "You won't believe the wild ride we had baggin' that slippery smuggler on Ord Mantell. We chased him through a cantina, owned by some lowlife syndicate, darting past some drunks and a shootout happened. Chaos like you wouldn't believe broke out and a Wookie, I swear to the gods, was beatin' a couple Rodians with an Ugnaught."

I snickered under my breath at that, the visual tickling me pink.

"...Thought we lost him in a minute clinic, but no, he was desperate to shake us off."

His partner shot him a cautionary look at the last part, "Keep it hushed, Jax."

Jax grinned, undeterred by the warning. "Aah, whatever. So, we track him to this warehouse, turns out it's prime turf for a whole different crime syndicate than the one runnin' that cantina. Blaster shots echoin' off the walls, and we find him holed up in a stash of stolen goods. Guy was smuggling some valuable cargo, and he thought he could outsmart us. Ha! Pinned him down, tased him to make him squeal some, and bagged that sweet bounty."

The partner finally interrupted the tale with a stern tone, "That's all, Jax. We're not advertising our successes to the whole cantina. We've got enough to deal with not counting someone knifing us for money."

"Pffff." I intentionally enunciated my voice as loudly as possible, drawing the attention of Jax, the unnamed partner, and the other three human men that Jax was entertaining.

"Something to share, kid?" The one bounty hunter asked, sounding more like a demand.

"Oh I was just thinking that you guys obviously don't frequent Tatooine all that often." I said casually, taking another gulp of water. "This side of Mos Espa won't have you getting killed in an alley. Slave quarters are here and the Hutts have this place locked down to prevent too many fights or riots. Opposite side of here has the idiots and scumbags that you're better to just shoot."

The unnamed hunter just scowled, the scar I now noticed cutting across his jawline flexing with the facial expression.

"Just go on and piss off, kid. Forget whatever you heard."

"Was already leaving anyway." I muttered, grabbing the cloth bag to my right and getting up from the table. I then fished out a coin from my pocket that the cantina would accept as currency to barter with and showed it to Neesh. "Neesh, give me whatever this'll buy."

The Rodian behind the bar wordlessly pulled a metal can of what was probably the equivalent to Coors light from underneath the bar and tossed it to me, which I caught no problem.

I then tossed the coin to him and then popped the seal on the can, taking a long swig from it as I exited the cantina and made my way to the scrapyard.

"Yeah, Coors light alright." I muttered, wiping my mouth with my sleeve. "Tastes like piss."

I didn't care. Alcohol was alcohol, and I was speedrunning becoming the grizzled marine officer that I aspired to be before I got blown up in the Middle East like a good little grunt.

But enough of that, I needed to scavenge chit and make some money.

(LINE BREAK)

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaakadians! Long ago!" I called out as I lifted up a chunk of rusted durasteel and flung it to the side. I then sighed before I grabbed another engine coil that was almost as good as the one Anakin found and stowed it away in my bag.

Amidst the relentless Tatooine sun, I, the intrepid marine, found myself literally waist-deep in the scrapyard to get a few more parts, sorting through discarded speeder guts. Each salvaged component went into my bag with a series of grunts as I kept sifting in the heat, the harsh clatter breaking the silence of the desolate wasteland.

The progress came to an end when I froze at the sight in front of me when I shoved a rusted dehumidifier to the side… it was… perfect. I found a thruster identical to the one already repaired, and it looked like it would require just minimal effort to get into a functional state; aside from the fact that the lower 2/3s was missing. But that was easily replaced, unlike the front where much of the inner workings of it was.

Hell. Yes.

Unfortunately, it was underneath a broken speeder engine that probably weighed several hundred pounds. Even in my original body, I probably would have struggled pushing it aside on my own, and I was a lanky 11 year old that was hardly 5 feet tall.

Faced with a stubborn chunk of a speeder engine, I clenched my jaw. I'd get to it in a moment, but I didn't want to pull myself out of the position I was in. Practicality kicked in, and I prepared to utilize my rudimentary Force skills. It wasn't about some mystical connection; it was a tool, a means to lift the cumbersome mass blocking my access to the thruster.

Centering myself and focusing on the beating of my heart, I reached out with both the Force and my hand, grasping a hold of a power coupling and pulling it towards me. I caught it and stuffed it into the bag.

As I continued, I focused on grabbing individual parts — another corroded power coupling, a still-functional relay. My hand and will moved with a familiarity born from countless scrap runs. The sun beat down, intensifying the heat, but the urgency of securing valuable salvage kept me going.

After getting an acceptable amount of salvage for the day, I lifted the bag, floated it several meters away, and set it down.

With that out of the way, I took several breaths and glared at the engine. This was going to be a pain in the ass, but my pride demanded I get this done myself. Anakin would be useless to help with this because of how heavy it was, and I wasn't going to let some Jawa or other vagrant steal what I rightfully unearthed. I had to get this out today if I wanted a pod within a few months.

Focusing as much as I could, I wrapped my psychic grip around the engine and shoved.

The engine groaned loudly as metal rubbed against metal, but it didn't budge.

Bitch. I needed to put more effort into it.

I tried again, pushing as hard as I could with the Force and putting a bit more heat into my will.

It shifted slightly, but not enough to do anything.

The latest one actually made my head spin for a moment. It felt almost like I'd been out in the sun too long and I leaned against the engine to catch my breath and closed my eyes momentarily.

This needed to be done tonight. The thruster part could almost certainly be moved by me with a little bit of Force enhanced nudging to roll it the mile to my house. It was maybe a couple hundred pounds or a little more, while the stupid speeder engine was probably thrice that.

I needed more umph in my shove and I had two ways to do it in a way I knew how to enhance one's connection to the Force, and Anakin's absence made the latter one I was thinking of more enticing.

Yoda or me… Yoda or me. Yoda or m- kriff it.

Me it was.

I drew up the more negative memories and feelings I had throughout this new life of mine and the memories of before. I thought of the well of negativity that life on Tatooine had carved, the harsh memories of servitude, the scorching days in the scrapyard, and the constant struggle that etched a reservoir of discontent within me.

Amidst these emotions, a specific memory emerged—the helpless feeling when I couldn't protect the terrified girl, or the one before her that earned me a beating. That moment became a focal point as I drew upon the negativity, infusing my connection to the Force with a resolve forged in the crucible of past failures.

It wasn't about lofty ideals or serene meditation right now; it was a raw, primal channeling of frustration and resentment. The Force responded, and the face of the Twi'lek that beat me, the man I had begging for mercy, and the inky black sensation of a young girl's terror blinded me to all other senses and I shoved forward with a snarl being torn from my throat.

The engine actually lifted upward as it was flung back several feet, knocking down a pile of rusted durasteel plating and degraded copper coils in a deafening crash as hundreds of pieces tumbled down to the ground and completely buried a walkway meant for scrappers.

I hardly had time to celebrate, because my vision almost went black and I actually fell, completely losing all sense of balance and a dull roar overwhelmed my sense of hearing as I struggled to figure out where I was.

Almost certainly, I had overdone it and I could faintly hear my name if my mind wasn't playing tricks on me.

After an indeterminate amount of time, I blinked and could suddenly think more clearly. Looking around, I could see that I had collapsed against the thruster and my head was pounding worse than when I got a concussion after taking a round straight to my helmet.

"Ow." I moaned weakly. I needed to get up. Forcing myself upward, I promptly fell back down as my limbs refused to respond to my minds command and my elbow struck the thrust.

"Chit shat fuck!" I straight up swore in half Earth profanity and straight up gibberish as I felt the nerve in my arm flare at the impact, my mind suddenly clearing somewhat and I kept groaning as I gripped my arm and rocked myself for a moment.

Good news was that I no longer felt concussed, merely hungover. Testing the waters again, I hooked one leg to push myself up that let me stand a moment before I let myself fall against the thruster, my breath coming in gasps.

I felt like I'd run a marathon, I was shivering like it was nighttime, and I was sweating profusely. The suns beating down on my back even felt frigid. If I wasn't certain that is was close to 100 F, I'd think my breath was fogging.

"What…" I gasped, taking another breath as I held onto the thruster. "The… kriff."

This couldn't have been from overextending with the Force. The mind fog? Yes, overextension of your Force ability made you feel half drowned and lethargic in mind for a while, but there was nothing mentioned about feeling like ice crystals were developing on my skin from how cold I felt now.

Unless…

I… touched the Dark Side.

Nothing else explained it. This went beyond using my thrill and emotional high after exercising to deepen my digging into the depths of the Force. This wasn't guiding and lightly prodding the Force as I channeled it through me, I tore away control with my righteous fur-

No, it wasn't. It was impotent rage at being unable to help and enjoyment at putting fear in a man.

I screwed up, badly.

But it shouldn't be an issue. I didn't lose control and become a complete drunkard after Jake got blown up in front of me, and I didn't become a witless stoner after smoking some weed. Just that one taste of icy fire wouldn't destroy me.

But that brief instance, a single second of clarity where the feeling of anger was drowned out by overwhelming power, just a moment before I collapsed from the backlash… it felt good, far too good.

It was no wonder lesser men fell to that addiction constantly. It was like liquid ecstasy injected into my veins, and a part of me, the weaker part of me that my military service had crushed, wanted to experiment.

I literally spat to the side to enunciate to myself what I thought of that.

"Oh," I looked closer at the glop of saliva, before running my tongue along the inside of my mouth, "That's blood." Evidently, I bit myself or my teeth pressed against my lip when I hit the ground.

Before I could think of what to do, I heard rustling from the main entrance to the scrapyard.

"Oh you gotta be kidding me." I hissed to myself, not wanting to have to deal with another lifeform that could speak. Hopefully it was a womp rat.

"Kane!"

George Lucas must hate me.

Anakin came running towards me, dust and sand caking his grayish brown clothes and he himself looked ashen, his eyes wide and I could tell he looked scared.

Did he sense that?

Thinking as quickly as I could, I muttered out a sentence. "I think I hurt myself, Ani. I might need help."

Anakin sprung into action and ran towards me, pushing aside parts that I had previously climbed over with no issue. It took him only a few minutes of concerted effort, but he cleared a bit of a walkway for me.

Before I could say anything else, Anakin rushed towards me and wrapped his arms around my midsection, grasping me tightly.

"I could feel you getting hurt." He said, his voice muffled as his head was pressed against my shirt. "It felt cold, and it hurt me too."

What he said couldn't have been any worse unless he said I was evil for using the Dark Side. It confirmed a soft fear that had been haunting me ever since I realized the high likelihood of us having a Force Bond.

He could sense my rage.

For a brief instance, I felt like I was drowning in glacial water, the cold so potent it burned, as shame threatened to make me pull away. Anakin's first exposure to the Dark Side had been from me, not Maul or any other threat; I was supposed to protect him from it, not hurt him with it.

Just as soon as the shame had washed over me, I clenched my teeth and demanded that it hold no more sway over me. My emotions locked into place, my resolve to never surrender to it reappearing as I looked down at the top of Anakin's head.

The chill that had clung to me almost completely vanished, the light of the afternoon coming into focus and I could think far more clearly now. I still felt tired and my head hurt like I'd been reading and thinking for 24 hours straight, but I felt like I could walk no problem.

"Anakin." I said quietly, wrapping my left arm around his shoulder. "I'm fine. I just fell against the thruster and hurt my arm, nothing bad."

Anakin, naive Anakin, believed me without hesitation and let go of me. "So that's the thruster?" He looked to my left and behind me to catch a glimpse of what I'd unearthed.

"Yeah." I replied, patting it with my palm. "We might have our pod ready in a few months now."

That completely flipped Anakin's mood and I twitched at how bright the happiness radiated from him was in contrast to what I'd just experienced moments ago.

"It's gonna be so wizard!" He shouted happily, stepping beside me and looking at it with extreme focus. "How we gonna get it out?"

"That's… a good question."

I'd need to augment my body with the Force, but that more than casual brush with the Dark Side spooked me quite a bit. Unless maybe I leaned on Anakin's emotions to keep me more centered… yeah, I'd do that.

"You know what, budge over and I'll just push the stupid thing." I said, setting in place as much mental discipline as I could as I reached out to the Force and guided it to empower my arms and legs.

"Wha-" Anakin started, but stopped as he saw me grip the thruster and with a grunt of exertion, rolled it towards us by about a foot or two.

To get the thruster out, I mustered some more of what little Force augmentation I could manage, enough to make me physically strong as an adult. Anakin's eyes widened as I gripped the heavy machinery again, and with a grunt, I began rolling it out of the scrapyard, the grind of metal against sand drowning out any conversation.

I knew right away this was going to be difficult. The Force was responding to me in a more lethargic way, matching my own fatigue.

Stupid overexertion from Dark Side banthachit.

I might need some help.

"Move over, Ani." I grunted, gesturing to have him get to my right so he didn't get his foot run over.

Anakin hastily moved to my side, hopped up on a piece of durasteel, and jumped down in-between the gap where the thruster had just been.

"Lemme help." He demanded, trying to push at the thruster from his angle.

If it was me trying to lift it, I would've told him to scram because he'd get hurt. But as it was, I could use some help.

Speaking of help, I overlooked something because I had been stewing over the fact that Dark Side caressing was disturbingly easy for me to do, and I sighed audibly as I reached the conclusion that help was necessary.

"Anakin, change of plans." I halted my shoving of the thruster and wiped at my face to get some dust out of my vision. "Go home and get mom to help us move this."

"Hey," He protested. "We can both do this alone."

"Ani, I want to eat. I'm sore. I want to get this piece of chit thruster home so I can relax and later repair it, and mom can help."

Anakin crossed his arms and pouted. Scrapping was supposed to be our special thing that also included us repairing the pod, and he probably felt like this was an intrusion. I didn't blame him for thinking that, but I also thought he was being an annoying brat about it.

"Plus, I bet she'll be so proud of her little warrior that we found this. Think of how happy she'll be seeing this."

That seemed to do the trick, and I knew exactly why. The last few days had been a little rough for our mom, and Anakin could pick up on that sadness. The idea of making her happy mattered to both of us, and Anakin could be convinced to do just about anything to make our mom happy.

Thankfully, he set his arms down and I felt his coiled defiance of emotions settle, replaced by a subdued happiness that would likely brighten further once he got back. "Okay, I'll get mom." Anakin then climbed back over the thruster, jumped down, and ran on home.

With Anakin gone, I took a moment to collect myself. The fatigue from my earlier Force exertion still lingered, and the realization hit me even harder—I needed to double my meditation exercises. Another lapse in control could be disastrous, and I couldn't afford that.

As I rolled the thruster to get it out of the pathway where an adult and near adult framed human could roll, the weight of both the machinery and my internal struggles pressed in on me. The late afternoon sun continued its relentless assault, casting long shadows across the scrapyard. With some more determination, I focused on the task at hand, grateful for the prospect of Mom's assistance in getting this heavy load home.

After what felt like an eternity of pushing the thruster through the scorching heat, I saw the familiar silhouette of Anakin and our mother approaching in the distance. Anakin was bouncing ahead, eager to share the news of our find.

"Mom! Mom!" he exclaimed, waving his arms enthusiastically.

She smiled, shading her eyes from the relentless sun as they drew closer. "Okay, what's got you so excited, Ani?"

"We found a thruster, Mom! Kane dug it up!" Anakin pointed back towards the scrapyard.

She shifted her gaze to me, a mixture of curiosity and pride in her eyes. "Well, Kane, let's see what you've uncovered."

As they reached the thruster, I explained our discovery and the plan to use it for our pod. Sure, I knew she didn't exactly like the idea of me podracing for money, but I was blunt that I didn't fancy us being slaves for life and even just some money coming in would have Watto being far kinder and even possibly benevolent to us, plus I was older than Anakin had been when he started.

Mom nodded, a glint of determination in her eyes."Alright, let's get this thing home. Anakin, help your brother and be in the center. Kane, move a little to the left," she instructed, following that up with her walking around to be on the right side, situated next to Anakin.

With renewed energy and Mom's support, we navigated the thruster through the flat terrain. Mom and I pushed from the sides, and Anakin sort of pushed as much as he could as an almost 6 year boy, which wasn't all that much but it helped. The journey felt lighter with their presence, the weight of the thruster more bearable.

It only took about a half an hour instead of what I estimated would have taken me over twice that on my own, but we got the thruster through the doorway and shifted the few rugs we had patched together to insulate the floor out of the way.

After getting it in and out of the way, I practically collapsed into a chair at our dining table, my head pounding from the continued Force augmentation and it only got worse when I loosened my mental grasp on the eldritch power.

While I was nursing the pain that was technically only in my mind, I heard Shmi's voice and her saying Anakin's name, then a blur in my peripheral as Anakin raced into the small kitchen.

Seconds later, I was face to face with my mom as she sat in the chair next to me, the same eyes I saw in the mirror all the time staring directly at me. Her face was stern, which didn't suit her at all.

"Why didn't you just take it apart and take multiple trips?" She asked simply.

"Other scrappers would have taken anything I didn't take on the first trip."

"Is there really that much competition for parts?"

"For pod parts, yeah." I replied, trying very hard to not sound like a bit of a smartass. The demand for backup parts for podracing was kind of obvious on Tatooine of all places.

"I don't know if it was worth you hurting your arm over though." She said with her lips pursed. Her balance shifted in the chair but that same Stern expression was still there.

Of course Anakin spilt that information.

"It wasn't that bad, see?" I pulled my sleeve down to show her my arm, which I doubt had even bruised. "Anakin's just being dramatic."

"Your brother would disagree." She countered.

"Yeah, well, Anakin can be free to be wrong." I sighed.

"Kane?"

"Hmmm?"

Shmi leaned in closer to me and I flinched in surprise as she scrutinized me. "You're pale. Are you sure you're alright?"

"I… yeah?" I supplied, cursing myself at the pathetic attempt at lying.

"What happened?" She demanded softly. There was no anger in it or disappointment, but it carried that motherly authority that had been something that I had remembered from my first mother before she died.

"I… um, okay this'll be oversimplifying, but I overexerted my, you know." I wiggled my fingers to allude to what I meant. "Abilities."

Shmi's brow furrowed. "How does that even work?"

"Like pulling a muscle." I explained shortly. "I shoved a speeder engine off the thruster and did it too hard, so now I feel drunk and hungover at the same tim-" I paused as I both saw and sensed a flash of shock from Shmi as her eyes widened impossibly large.

I was supposed to be 11, not a marine that downed vodka through a prosthetic leg I stole off a Russian Colonel's body after storming a base with my platoon.

"Oh, right." I mumbled.

"Yes, 'oh right'." Shmi nodded, her expression completely unamused. "I assume the bartender thought it was funny to give you cheap or bad alcohol and you, my most impulsive son, wanted to try it?"

"You… wouldn't be wrong." I said evasively, technically being honest about being served cheap beer.

"Just," Shmi began, before sighing and shaking her head, "Clean your hands and get ready for dinner. You obviously learned your lesson if you were hungover."

"Yeah, it wasn't fun." I then got up and went to clean my hands, almost bumping into Anakin as he came out and walked in front of me.

"Sorry." I said quickly, shifting aside and getting into the kitchen.

A short rinse later, I went back to the living room that was also our kitchen and I sat next to Anakin, while Shmi had gotten up to go to the kitchen and finish preparing supper that had been interrupted by her helping us with the thruster.

Anakin and I talked some about what we planned on doing to the thruster to get it in working order and a few other things, but not much else. The conversation came to a halt when Shmi came back with three plates of food that included some vegetables, bantha milk cheese, and some mystery meat that I think was bantha.

My conversational self temporarily stopped for the rest of the evening as I was just straight up done now. Entertaining Anakin was the last scrap of emotional energy I had left to offer and I just vaguely listened to Anakin talk excitedly to Shmi, almost word for word, about what he and I had talked about doing. I just focused on eating my food.

After that uneventful supper, I begged off and went to my room. I made a beeline to the small mattress that was my bed and I laid down, deciding to meditate until I finally went to sleep early.

With how tired I was as I surrendered to the soft touches of the Force upon my mind, I almost forgot that I left my bag of scrap at the scrapyard.

Tomorrow. I could do it tomorrow.

(LINE BREAK)

"For the last time, Voss, 18 per cable is the lowest I can go." I said, staring at the repeat customer of Watto's. "Watto doesn't wiggle too much and you know that."

"Oh, pah." The Zabrack I was currently speaking with waved his hand dismissively. "That cheapskate hoards his junk like a Krayt dragon their pearls."

"Yeah, well the cheapskate that owns this shop also gets the parts you need for your distillery on the regular." I reminded him.

Voss made some fairly decent whiskey that he sold to the cantinas, so he was one of the more well-off customers and would regularly buy other things here as thanks for being consistent.

But that didn't mean I was going to give him crap for free.

"Fine, I'll pay it out." He agreed, pulling out a small, cloth bag that clinked as he reached into it. "I need 10."

I nodded my understanding and raised my hand to gesture for him to wait a moment. "I need to head into the back to grab them." With that, I turned on my heel and went to the back room, pulled out a crate with the cables and counted out ten of them, before dropping them into a separate crate that wasn't in use at the moment. I then picked it up and walked back out front, setting the crate down on the table and in front of Voss.

Voss didn't say a word but made a grunt of approval. He then handed me several coins and grabbed the crate to leave.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Voss."

"You too, brat. Make sure to not get shanked while scrapping."

That last bit of heartfelt advice was the last thing he said before he exited the shop, leaving me alone once again to man the store due to Watto being drunk… again. The Toydarian had evidently won quite a bit of money while betting on a podrace and had gotten roaring drunk in celebration, which he was currently sleeping off.

Other than that, everything had been uneventful since I'd acquired the thruster. My training in moving meditation and my exercises had been upped a notch, and it kept me both clear headed and my ability to use the Force had improved a little bit more.

Overall, I was quite pleased that I could now levitate a piece of sharp durasteel and fling it with my mind with enough force to dent plastoid.

The silence was interrupted when I sensed a presence outside the shop, immediately followed by the door hissing open to reveal the arrival of a Trandoshan. I eyed the reptilian figure warily as it approached the counter.

If ever there was a species that I wouldn't mind shooting on sight, it was these reptilian bastards. Disgusting slavers, disgusting religion, and disgusting all-round.

"You the one in charge here, kid?" The Trandoshan asked in that hissing tone all of its kind sounded like when speaking Basic.

I justed stared with a faux look of detached boredom. "Yeah, that's me. What can I help you with?"

The mottled green alien in a flight suit just scoffed, its tongue flicking out of its mouth for a second and I caught a glimpse of the sharp teeth in its mouth. "I need sssome partss for my sship. Don't give me any junk, got it?

"Sure thing. What kind of parts are you looking for?"

"A TL-1200." He hissed. "Jussst ssshow me what you got. And make it quick."

Fortunately, that model was common out here in the Outer Rim and there was an entire corner of the shop reserved for those parts.

"Right side corner." I pointed. "Grab what you need and don't steal any chit or the Hutts will make a dress out of you."

The Trandoshan just hissed at that, following where I had pointed to and I mentally prepared for a challenging negotiation with this unpleasant customer. The Trandoshan's introductory demeanor certainly set the tone for what promised to be a less-than-pleasant transaction.

The Trandoshan took his sweet time scrutinizing the TL-1200 parts on the shelves. Ten minutes passed, each second feeling like an eternity as I watched him inspect each piece with meticulous detail. The shop's atmosphere grew tense, and I couldn't shake the feeling that this customer was intentionally testing my patience by taking too long.

Finally, he returned with a handful of parts in hand, a scaly grin on his face that hinted at satisfaction.

"Found what I needed, ssslave. Let'ssss sssettle up."

"Alright, let me tally that up for you." I smiled slightly, biting my tongue to prevent myself from laying out a slur that would get a blaster or knife pulled on me. I actually witnessed a bar fight when a human called one of these animals by its True Name that ended with a knife in the shoulder.

As I calculated the cost by eyeballing the parts, I couldn't help but feel relief that this transaction was nearing its end. Dealing with the rude Trandoshan had been an exercise in patience, and I eagerly awaited the moment he'd leave the shop, allowing the lingering tension to dissipate.

"400." I said, looking at the parts and then the Trandoshan. "Not Republic credits."

The Trandoshan paid without saying a word for the TL-1200 parts, grabbed the salvaged tech and left the shop in silence. The absence of words hung in the air, the heavy reptilian figure disappearing beyond the threshold, leaving me alone with the quiet hum of the shop's machinery. As the door shut, the weight of his presence lifted, and I sighed now that I was once again alone.

But now, I was bored.

With that boredom, I took out the knife I had slowly fashioned and refined over the last couple of years into an actually decent weapon instead of the ghetto shiv usually visualized when thinking of a handmade knife, and I started trying to make it do tricks in my hand via telekinesis.

It predictably did not work as intended and I ended up almost stabbing myself as it jerked in the air and nearly struck my palm.

Scowling, I made it sit steadier in the air and hovered it, my dominant hand having to make a rotating motion to make it jerkily move.

Now that I was a little frustrated and was actually concentrating, it moved a little steadier and I flicked my hand and had it shift once again like a conductor's stick and I started whistling the Imperial Anthem while trying and failing to match the tone with the knife/conductor stick.

A spark of memory suddenly struck me and I actually spoke out loud the lyrics of a song the resident Baptist in my platoon would sing in the most offkey tone of voice possible when he got a little tipsy.

"Now my life has gained its meaning, since those sinful eyes behold!"

The extremely shoddy stunts I was doing right now while singing that song had me actively thinking about a certain thing I'd thought about and reflected on ever since my brush with the Dark Side, and doing parlor tricks with the Force while singing and humming to Palastinalied was just about as good a time as possible.

The Dark Side was especially tantalizing to me in a way that it wasn't to someone like, say, Obi-Wan Kenobi because of my beliefs and perception of the world. My Baptist friend explained, along with the Lutheran chaplain for our regiment later on, that faith in a way involved a surrender to something greater, to trust in the purification of confession and sacraments, to give your passions to God and let his will flow through you.

That of course did not appeal to me. I wasn't willing to give credit for my unyielding nature to someone I wasn't exactly aware of as a child and teenager. It was a power solely found, by me at least, by looking within myself. I'd read those books by veterans of past wars, about the hellish shellings they endured, and of how the very act of refusing to die is a conscious choice between downfall and conquest.

That resonated with me more. And unfortunately, the Light Side being properly wielded is like a willing embracing of salvation that I am skeptical of, whereas the Dark Side philosophy of being a dam that aggressively redirects a torrential river and forces the natural flow to the demands of the impediment appeals to my personal philosophy of endless struggle and strife that sculpts me into the greatest expression of man that I can be.

I don't long for salvation, I hunger for struggle.

Of course, my philosophical self diagnosis as an adrenaline junkie with access to the Star Wars equivalent of the Tetris-grammaphone or whatever the hell it's called got ruined when I sensed a familiar presence in my peripheral vision in the Force and I reached out with my actual hand to take the knife and stow it away.

The door opened again with the arrival of my mother, Shmi, an unusual occurrence during the workday when she was supposed to be repairing stuff at our home. I glanced at her from behind the impromptu counter, a curious expression on my face.

"What brings you here, mom? Something wrong?"

"Not at all, Kane." She said, looking and feeling happy in my visual and mental sense. "Watto gave me this for you, me, and Anakin."

In her hands, she held a small pouch of money, a surprising gesture from the typically miserly Toydarian. My brow furrowed in confusion.

"What's that for?"

"Watto said it's for you, Anakin, and me." She repeated herself. "He thought we could use a little extra for ourselves. He won money on the podrace and told me to spend some for us, and not for food. Something special."

The unexpected generosity of Watto left me momentarily stunned. The gruff Toydarian showing a rare moment of consideration was a rarity, and I couldn't help but wonder what might have prompted this change in his demeanor.

Sure, I vaguely remembered Watto being mentioned as a better master than most. But this was actually generous by even a typical employer's standards. I almost felt bad now about thinking of Watto as a typical grungy peddler that had gone to seed.

Almost.

"So, what are you going to get?" I asked curiously. As much as I knew about my mom, I didn't know what she'd get for herself.

"Hmmm, I'm not sure." She replied, her hand slowly drifting to her pocket. "But I know what I got for you."

"Huh?" I didn't understand.

"You would be complaining all day about not knowing what to get, so I got you something I know you would love." She explained, smiling as she pulled out a small holo projector from her pocket that could fit into my hand. "Here, check the holonovel downloaded."

I did, slowly processing what just happened. My mom got me this, which wasn't exactly cheap for us.

Pressing my thumb against the activation plate on the side, the disc lit up and I saw in 3D the novel that was purchased alongside the projector.

—Mandalorians: Identity and Language, published by the Galactic Institute of Anthropology

I… she knew.

This was, honestly perfect. I couldn't think of a better gift or a better book for me to read, because the Mandalorians had fascinated me, because I was the living inspiration for that entire culture. The beating heart, the hot and thick lifeblood of Mandalorian culture was built off of the raceless brotherhood that was the military, and the corps.

This was like I'd received a fragment of my old family again for the first time in 11 years.

I switched off the holo-projector and slipped it into my pocket. Then I walked around the table and hugged my mom tightly, wrapping my arms around her.

"I love it, mom." I said, swallowing thickly as I started to feel really emotional about this gift.

Shmi didn't say anything, she just returned the embrace and I basked in the warmth of what I had just been given out of an act of selfless love.

She was going to be free, same as I was going to be and Anakin. I'd make sure of it.

(END CHAPTER)

Took awhile to update but it's finally out. A pretty lengthy chapter and I'm quite pleased with it. Hope you enjoyed.

Raging.