The ship exited hyperspace in a burst of starlight, Tatooine’s twin suns glaring through the cockpit viewport. The arid desert world hung before them, a stark contrast to the lush greenery of Naboo. The Queen’s ship, damaged and leaking energy, limped toward the planet like a wounded bird seeking refuge.
Kieran sat cross-legged on the floor of the common area, fiddling absently with Duskblade’s hilt. His mismatched eyes flicked to the viewport as he felt the shift in the Force—the heavy presence of destiny, coiling around this world like a sandstorm waiting to break loose.
He hated that feeling.
Obi-Wan’s voice crackled through the comms from the cockpit. “Master, we’ve located a remote settlement—Mos Espa. It seems to be our best option for repairs.”
Kieran looked up as Qui-Gon entered the room, his usual calm aura a stark contrast to the tension filling the ship. Jar Jar was trailing behind him, muttering nervously about being “in da middle of no-where-ees.”
The Padawan leaned back, twirling his saber idly. “Mos Espa, huh? Sounds… familiar.”
Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. “Familiar?”
Kieran shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Just a feeling.” He was not about to explain to Qui-Gon how he “knew” Mos Espa like the back of his hand. As far as the Jedi were concerned, Kieran’s knowledge of the future was a mysterious “gift,” and he planned to keep it that way.
Padmé, dressed as a simple handmaiden, entered the room and gave Kieran a curious look. “You’re awfully calm for someone about to step onto a desert planet with a damaged hyperdrive.”
Kieran smirked, standing and clipping Duskblade to his belt. “Calm? Me? I’m just saving my nerves for when the blaster bolts start flying.”
She raised an eyebrow. “That’s… reassuring.”
Before Kieran could reply, Obi-Wan’s voice came through again. “We’re entering the atmosphere now. Hold on.”
The ship rocked violently as it descended, and Kieran instinctively grabbed the wall for support. Jar Jar let out a high-pitched yelp, tumbling backward. Kieran resisted the urge to roll his eyes, though his hand twitched toward the Gungan as if tempted to Force-push him upright just to spare himself the noise.
Finally, the turbulence subsided, and the ship touched down with a metallic groan. Dust and sand swirled outside the viewport, painting the air a dull orange.
Qui-Gon turned to the group. “Padmé, R2, Kieran—you’ll come with me into the settlement. Obi-Wan, stay here and monitor the ship’s repairs.”
“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan replied. His tone was calm, but Kieran could hear the faint irritation in his voice. It was subtle, but after sparring with Obi-Wan for months, Kieran had learned to pick up on the small cues. Guess he wanted to come along.
The ramp lowered with a hiss, and a wave of dry, scorching heat swept into the ship. Kieran squinted against the sudden brightness as he followed Qui-Gon and the others outside.
The desert stretched endlessly in every direction, its shimmering horizon broken only by the jagged outlines of rocky formations. The wind carried the faint smell of sand and oil—harsh, but not unpleasant. It reminded Kieran of the Force vision he’d had of Tatooine, though the reality was even more stark.
As they trudged toward Mos Espa, Kieran fell into step beside Qui-Gon. “Master,” he began, glancing around warily, “I’m sensing… something. It’s faint, but there’s a presence here. Strong.”
Qui-Gon nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I sense it too. Perhaps it’s merely the life energy of the planet itself. Or… something more.”
Kieran frowned. More was definitely the right word. The Force felt like a web here, its strands pulling in every direction—most of them leading straight to one boy.
Padmé, walking a few paces ahead, glanced back. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” Kieran replied quickly, forcing a grin. “Just… sand. Gets everywhere.”
----------------------------------------
The settlement of Mos Espa was a hive of activity, its streets teeming with aliens, merchants, and scavengers. The twin suns beat down mercilessly, and Kieran could already feel sweat beading on his brow. He adjusted his cloak, trying to blend in with the crowd.
They made their way toward Watto’s shop, guided by Qui-Gon’s subtle Force intuition. Kieran lagged slightly behind, his eyes scanning the bustling marketplace. It was exactly as he remembered it from his “visions”—the colorful awnings, the haggling merchants, the faint smell of roasted nuna legs.
As they approached Watto’s junk shop, the Force stirred again, stronger this time. Kieran’s eyes flicked to the doorway, his pulse quickening. He knew what was waiting for them inside. The bell above the shop door chimed as they entered, and Kieran took a deep breath, steeling himself. Here we go.
The bell above the shop door jingled softly, announcing their arrival. The dim interior of Watto’s junk shop was cluttered with parts, tools, and scraps of machinery stacked haphazardly on every surface. The air smelled of oil and rust, with a faint undercurrent of something burnt. Kieran’s eyes darted around the room, his pulse quickening as he spotted a small figure in the back, tinkering with some kind of device.
The boy.
Anakin Skywalker.
The Force flared around him, bright and turbulent, like the edge of a sun threatening to burst into supernova. Kieran felt the weight of destiny coil tighter, wrapping around the boy and tangling with his own path. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to remain calm as Qui-Gon stepped forward.
A squat, winged Toydarian hovered into view from behind the counter, his bulbous eyes narrowing suspiciously. Watto. Kieran felt a flicker of irritation—memories from the “vision” of this future blending with his present experience. Watto was as unpleasant in reality as he’d seemed in the vision.
“What do you want?” Watto demanded, his gravelly voice tinged with impatience. He flitted above the counter, his small wings buzzing loudly.
Qui-Gon offered a polite nod. “We need parts to repair a J-type 327 Nubian. A hyperdrive generator, specifically.”
Watto’s eyes gleamed with interest, though he tried to hide it behind a dismissive snort. “A Nubian, eh? Very expensive. Very rare.” He leaned forward, sizing up Qui-Gon. “What’ve you got to trade?”
As Qui-Gon and Watto began their negotiations, Kieran let his gaze wander back to the boy. Anakin was still tinkering with the device on the workbench, his small hands moving with precision and confidence well beyond his years. The Force swirled around him, drawn to him like gravity, and Kieran couldn’t look away.
Anakin must have sensed the attention, because he suddenly glanced up, his bright blue eyes locking onto Kieran’s. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then the boy grinned, wide and genuine.
“Hi,” Anakin said, his voice light with curiosity. “Are you a Jedi?”
Kieran blinked, caught off guard. “What makes you say that?”
Anakin shrugged, still smiling. “You’ve got that look. And that,” he said, nodding toward the hilt of Duskblade at Kieran’s side.
Kieran chuckled, leaning casually against a nearby shelf. “Good eye, kid.”
Padmé stepped forward then, her curiosity piqued by the exchange. “You seem to know a lot about Jedi,” she said, her tone warm but curious.
Anakin straightened, clearly eager to talk. “Not a lot, but I’ve seen holos. Jedi are the best pilots in the galaxy, right? And they fight with lightsabers.” His eyes flicked to Duskblade again, admiration plain on his face.
“Something like that,” Kieran replied, smirking.
“Are you a Jedi too?” Anakin asked, looking between Kieran and Qui-Gon.
Kieran hesitated, unsure how to answer. Qui-Gon glanced back from his conversation with Watto and gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.
“Yeah,” Kieran admitted. “I’m still learning, though.”
Anakin’s grin widened. “That’s so wizard.”
Kieran raised an eyebrow. “Wizard?”
“It means cool,” Anakin explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the galaxy.
The conversation with Watto concluded, and Qui-Gon approached the group, his expression calm but purposeful. “Watto won’t accept Republic credits,” he said, glancing at Padmé. “We’ll have to find another way to pay for the parts.”
Kieran’s brow furrowed. “What kind of way?”
Before Qui-Gon could answer, the door to the shop rattled as the wind outside began to pick up. The Force pulsed around them, carrying a subtle warning.
“A sandstorm,” Anakin said, glancing toward the window. “A big one.”
Qui-Gon nodded, "Well, then. We better return to our ship. Come on."
Anakin, however, invited them, "Your ship is likely far. I'll take you to my place."
Qui-Gon looked thoughtful for a moment, "Alright then. We'll try not to impose."
----------------------------------------
The group exited Watto’s shop, stepping out into the swirling chaos of Mos Espa’s streets as the sandstorm began to gather strength. The wind howled, whipping dust and grit into the air and reducing visibility to just a few meters. Kieran pulled his hood tighter over his head, wincing as sand pelted his exposed face. He glanced toward Qui-Gon, who was as serene as ever, the storm seemingly an afterthought in the Jedi Master’s mind.
“This way!” Anakin called, his voice rising over the howling wind. The boy was already moving ahead, his small frame cutting through the throng of merchants and scavengers rushing to secure their stalls before the storm worsened.
Kieran’s mismatched eyes lingered on Anakin for a moment, studying him. Despite the urgency of their situation, the boy seemed oddly calm, almost comfortable in the storm. Kieran felt the Force swirling around Anakin like an invisible shield, a natural aura of protection that the boy likely wasn’t even aware of.
Padmé, R2-D2 rolling beside her, jogged to keep up with Anakin, her own hood pulled low over her face. “Are you sure your home is close?” she asked, her voice muffled by the wind.
“Not far!” Anakin replied, flashing a grin over his shoulder. “It’s just around the corner!”
Qui-Gon motioned for the group to stay together, his voice calm yet firm. “Stay close. The storm will only get worse.”
As they turned a corner, Kieran caught sight of Anakin’s home—a modest, dome-shaped building tucked into the outskirts of Mos Espa. The structure was weathered and unassuming, its pale surface blending into the surrounding desert. Anakin led them quickly through the entrance, holding the door open as everyone filed inside.
The sudden stillness was jarring. The muffled roar of the storm was left behind as the door slid shut, and the dim, quiet interior of the home felt almost peaceful by comparison. Kieran pulled back his hood, brushing sand from his hair as he glanced around.
The home was small but cozy, filled with the hum of various machines and the faint smell of oil and cooking spices. A table sat in the center of the main room, surrounded by mismatched chairs, while shelves along the walls were lined with spare parts, tools, and small trinkets. It wasn’t much, but it was clear that care and effort had been put into making it feel like a home.
“Mom!” Anakin called as he bounded further into the house. “We’ve got guests!”
Kieran felt a pang of something he couldn’t quite place as he watched Anakin’s enthusiasm. The boy’s boundless energy was infectious, even in a setting as dire as this. He glanced at Qui-Gon, who was already surveying the room with quiet interest.
A moment later, Shmi Skywalker appeared from one of the side rooms. Her face was kind but weary, her hands dusted with flour as if she’d been preparing a meal. She froze for a moment when she saw the group, her eyes flicking between the strangers before settling on Anakin.
“Guests?” she asked, her tone soft but curious.
Anakin nodded eagerly. “They needed a place to stay until the storm passes. I told them they could stay here.”
Shmi’s gaze moved to Qui-Gon, who stepped forward and inclined his head respectfully. “Thank you for your hospitality, ma’am. We’ll do our best not to intrude.”
Shmi studied Qui-Gon for a moment, her eyes lingering on his Jedi robes and calm demeanor. Something in her expression softened, and she gave a small nod. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you need. Please, sit.”
Kieran followed Qui-Gon’s lead as the group took seats around the table. R2 beeped and settled near the door, scanning the room with his photoreceptors.
Anakin, meanwhile, was already pulling out a small device from under the table—a piece of his podracer engine, Kieran recognized. The boy’s excitement was palpable as he set it down and began explaining its function to Padmé, who listened with genuine interest despite clearly not understanding all the technical jargon.
Kieran leaned back in his chair, his eyes flicking between Anakin and Shmi. The boy’s connection to the Force was undeniable, but there was something equally compelling about his mother. The way she carried herself, her quiet strength—it was no wonder Anakin had turned out the way he had.
“You’ve done a lot with so little,” Qui-Gon said, his tone warm as he gestured to the various machines and tools scattered around the room. “It’s impressive.”
Shmi offered a faint smile. “We make do. Anakin’s very gifted with machines. He’s always building or fixing something.”
“Like C-3PO,” Anakin interjected, gesturing toward his room where the unfinished protocol droid stood. “I’m building him to help Mom. Wanna see it?”
Padmé tilted her head, a faint smile on her lips. “You built a droid? By yourself?”
“Yep!” Anakin said proudly. “He’s not finished yet, but he works… mostly.”
Kieran chuckled. “You’ve got some serious skills, kid.” Just as he said that, he noticed that he was actually younger than Anakin by a few months. He was about to hit 9 but Anakin was already over 9.
Kieran exchanged a glance with Qui-Gon, who gave a small nod. “Go ahead, Kieran,” Qui-Gon said. “It’s good to know more about our host.”
Kieran stood, stretching slightly before following Anakin toward his room along with Padmé.
Anakin led the way with an eager bounce in his step, practically glowing with excitement as he gestured for Kieran and Padmé to follow. The soft hum of the machines in the house faded as they entered the small, cramped workspace that doubled as Anakin’s room. It was chaotic but lively—half-finished projects littered the shelves and floor, while various tools and spare parts were scattered across a workbench that had clearly seen years of use.
Standing tall in one corner, with wires trailing from its open chest panel, was an incomplete protocol droid: C-3PO. Its mismatched plating made it look more skeletal than droid-like, and its single functioning photoreceptor blinked faintly, casting a dim glow across the dim room.
“Here he is!” Anakin announced, spreading his arms wide as if unveiling a masterpiece. “C-3PO, human-cyborg relations. I built him to help Mom with chores and stuff.”
Padmé stepped closer, inspecting the droid with curiosity. “He’s… amazing, Anakin. You really built him yourself?”
Anakin nodded vigorously, grinning from ear to ear. “Yep! Took me a while, though. I had to scavenge for parts whenever I had the chance.”
Kieran tilted his head, letting his mismatched eyes wander over the unfinished droid. “Pretty impressive. I don’t think I could even fix my hydrospanner if it broke, let alone build an entire droid.”
Anakin chuckled, clearly enjoying the praise. “It’s not too hard once you know how things fit together. It’s like a puzzle, you just have to figure out which pieces you need.”
Kieran crouched down to get a better look at C-3PO’s wiring. “A puzzle, huh? I guess that makes you one of the galaxy’s best puzzle solvers.”
Anakin’s grin widened. “Maybe. But I want to do more than just fix things one day. I want to be the best pilot in the galaxy—maybe even a Jedi.”
The words hung in the air for a moment, the boy’s enthusiasm undeniable. Kieran straightened, exchanging a glance with Padmé, who looked equally intrigued.
“Why a Jedi?” Kieran asked gently, keeping his tone casual.
Anakin shrugged, his gaze distant for a moment. “I don’t know. I just… feel like I could do it, you know? Like it’s something I’m supposed to do.”
Kieran felt a pang of emotion he couldn’t quite place. This boy’s dreams, his raw potential, the unshakable hope in his voice—it was all so pure. But Kieran also knew where those dreams would lead if left unchecked. The dark shadow that loomed over Anakin’s future was impossible to ignore, and Kieran resolved, here and now, to do whatever he could to change that.
“Well,” Kieran said, placing a hand lightly on Anakin’s shoulder, “being a Jedi isn’t just about swinging a lightsaber or flying starships. It’s about how you connect to the Force. And from what I can tell…” He paused, letting the Force flow through him briefly as he studied Anakin. “You’ve got a stronger connection than anyone I know. Maybe even stronger than mine”
Anakin’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Really,” Kieran said, smiling. “But being strong in the Force isn’t about how much power you have. It’s about how you use it, and how you understand it. And how much you can use it in the future.”
Padmé stepped forward, curiosity in her voice. “What do you mean, Kieran?”
Kieran thought for a moment, trying to find the right words. “Well… take the desert, for example.” He gestured toward the window, where the faint roar of the sandstorm could still be heard. “The Force is like the wind—it’s everywhere, all the time. It flows around you, through you, and connects everything together. But you can’t just grab the wind, right? You have to feel it, trust it, and ask it to help you with your tasks.”
Anakin tilted his head, his brow furrowing in thought. “So… I have to ask the Force to guide me?”
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“Exactly,” Kieran said, nodding. “But it’s not just about trusting the Force. It’s about trusting yourself, too. The Jedi have their way of teaching it, but I think the Force is personal. It’s different for everyone.”
Padmé gave Kieran a curious look, her head tilting slightly. “That’s an interesting way to think about it. Is that how Qui-Gon taught you?”
Kieran hesitated, glancing toward the door as if expecting Qui-Gon to materialize at the mention of his name. “Not exactly. Qui-Gon’s more about trusting the Force in the moment. He doesn’t believe in worrying about the future too much.”
“But you do,” Padmé said, her tone perceptive.
Kieran met her gaze for a moment before shrugging lightly. “I think the future is important, but… it’s complicated.”
Anakin, oblivious to the subtle tension, suddenly grinned and pointed at Kieran’s eyes. “Your eyes are so cool! One’s blue and the other’s green. How’d you get them like that? Can I get something like that?”
Kieran blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Then he laughed, the sound light and genuine. “I don’t think it works like that, Anakin. I was just born this way.”
Anakin leaned closer, studying Kieran’s face with fascination. “And your ears, too! They’re pointy, like an elf or something. Is that a Jedi thing?”
Kieran’s hand instinctively brushed over the slight point of his Sephi ears, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “No, not a Jedi thing. It’s because I’m part Sephi—a near-human species. It’s just how we are.”
Anakin’s curiosity only grew. “Sephi? That’s wizard! Do Sephi have cool powers or anything?”
“Not really,” Kieran replied with a smirk. “We’re just like humans, except with slightly longer lives and better hair.”
Padmé chuckled at that, shaking her head. “Better hair, huh?”
“Hey, it’s a fact,” Kieran said, grinning. “Look it up.”
Anakin laughed, the sound filling the small room with warmth. “You’re really cool, Kieran. I bet you’re the best Jedi ever.”
Kieran’s grin faltered slightly, though he quickly recovered. “I’ve got a long way to go before I’m anywhere near the best, kid. But thanks.”
As the conversation lulled, the hum of the sandstorm outside seemed to soften, signaling that the worst of it was passing. Kieran glanced toward the window, his mind racing. He didn’t know how much time they had before the next part of this whirlwind adventure began, but he was determined to make the most of every moment with Anakin.
"Hey," Kieran said suddenly, turning back to the boy. "Why don't we activate C3PO?"
Anakin’s face lit up at Kieran’s suggestion, and he darted over to the protocol droid like a bolt of energy. “I haven’t tested everything yet, but he works enough for now!” he said, his voice brimming with pride. The boy pulled a small tool from his belt and began fiddling with the wires in C-3PO’s open chest panel.
Kieran exchanged an amused glance with Padmé, who folded her arms and leaned against the doorframe. “You seem excited,” she said to Anakin.
“Of course!” Anakin replied, his fingers working quickly. “He’s my first big project. I mean, he’s not perfect yet, but I’m getting there. Besides, it’s kind of fun seeing him move and talk.” He glanced back at Kieran with a cheeky grin. “Let’s hope he doesn’t say anything embarrassing.”
Kieran crouched next to him, studying the exposed circuits. “Well, considering you built him, I’m guessing if he does embarrass anyone, it’ll be you.”
“Hey!” Anakin said, mock-offended, before laughing. “Fair point.”
The protocol droid suddenly jolted to life with a flicker of its photoreceptor. Its skeletal head tilted, and its arms moved stiffly. “Oh my goodness!” C-3PO exclaimed, his voice distinctly proper and flustered. “I seem to have been activated without my coverings. How embarrassing! Please, do avert your eyes.”
Kieran couldn’t suppress a laugh. “Wow, I think he’s already more self-aware than most people I know.”
Padmé stifled her own giggle, placing a hand over her mouth. “He’s… charming.”
Anakin beamed with pride as he stood back, watching his creation come to life. “See? He’s going to be great once I finish him.”
C-3PO turned his head toward Anakin, then Kieran, then Padmé, and finally tilted it curiously toward R2-D2, who had rolled into the room to observe the commotion. “Oh, a fellow droid!” C-3PO said, his tone lightening. “And quite… round, if I may say so.”
R2 let out a series of chirps and whistles that sounded vaguely indignant. Kieran smirked, watching the two droids interact. “I think R2 takes offense to that.”
Anakin chuckled. “Don’t worry, R2. You’re just as wizard as 3PO.”
C-3PO turned back to Kieran and Padmé. “And who might these organics be? Oh, introductions first, of course! I am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations. How may I be of service to you?”
Kieran chuckled a little, At least, we're not called Meat Bags. Thank the Force, HK47 isn't here.
“Padmé,” she said with a polite nod, though her smile hinted at amusement. “And this is Kieran.”
“Charmed, I’m sure!” C-3PO said, though his stiff, incomplete movements made the gesture comically awkward.
“Anakin, did you program him to be this polite, or is he just naturally like that?” Kieran asked.
Anakin scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Uh… both? I wanted him to sound proper, but I guess I might’ve overdone it a bit.”
“Don’t change a thing,” Kieran said, standing back up. “He’s perfect the way he is.”
C-3PO straightened, or at least tried to, with an air of pride. “Oh, how kind of you to say, Master Kieran. However, might I recommend that you acquire a proper wardrobe for me? Exposed wiring is hardly befitting a droid of my stature.”
Kieran raised an eyebrow at Anakin, who was trying not to laugh. “Yeah, okay. He might be a little too proper.”
The banter was interrupted by a soft knock at the doorframe. Shmi stood there, her warm expression tinged with curiosity. “I see C-3PO is up and running,” she said, stepping into the room.
“Yep!” Anakin said excitedly, motioning to the droid. “I was just showing him to Kieran and Padmé.”
Shmi’s gaze moved to Kieran, her eyes soft but searching. “You’re good with him,” she said after a moment.
Kieran blinked, caught slightly off guard. “With Anakin?”
Shmi nodded, folding her hands in front of her. “Most people don’t take him seriously. He’s young, and… well, he dreams big. Too big, sometimes.”
Kieran glanced at Anakin, who was now enthusiastically explaining some minor adjustments he wanted to make to C-3PO. The boy’s excitement was contagious, his optimism shining brightly even in the dim light of the room. Kieran didn't know how such an optimistic boy like Anakin could fall to the dark side. Well, he knew how he fall but it was almost unbelievable after meeting Anakin in person. The Jedi do really take the optimism out of anyone.
“I think dreaming big is a good thing,” Kieran said finally, his voice quiet but firm. “The galaxy could use more people like him.”
Shmi’s lips curved into a faint, bittersweet smile. “I just hope he finds his place. He’s… special.”
Kieran met her gaze, a quiet determination settling over him. “He will. I’ll make sure of it.”
Shmi’s expression softened, gratitude flickering in her eyes. “Thank you,” she said simply.
Anakin turned back to them then, his grin as wide as ever. “Hey, do you want to see my podracer next? It’s in the garage!”
Padmé tilted her head, intrigued. “You have a podracer?”
“Yep!” Anakin said, practically bouncing on his feet. “I’m the only human who can race. Wanna see it?”
Kieran smirked. “Of course. Lead the way, Anakin.”
The boy darted out of the room, his excitement pulling everyone along with him. Kieran fell into step beside Padmé, who gave him a thoughtful glance.
“You seem… protective of him,” she said softly, her voice low enough that Anakin couldn’t hear.
Kieran hesitated, his gaze flicking to Anakin’s small figure ahead of them. “He’s got a lot of potential. More than he even realizes. Someone’s gotta make sure he doesn’t waste it—or worse.”
Padmé studied Kieran for a moment, her steps light as they followed Anakin down the short hallway. “Or worse?” she echoed quietly, her tone laced with curiosity and concern.
Kieran hesitated, glancing ahead to ensure Anakin was out of earshot before responding. “The galaxy isn’t kind to people with potential,” he said, his voice low. “It uses them, manipulates them, breaks them. Especially people like him—people who shine so brightly, they can’t help but draw attention.”
Padmé nodded slowly, her brow furrowed. “You sound like you’ve seen it before.”
Kieran shrugged, forcing a casualness into his tone that he didn’t quite feel. “Let’s just say I’ve got a… unique perspective. I know how easy it is for someone with power to get lost if they don’t have the right guidance.”
Padmé’s gaze lingered on him, searching. “And you think you can be that guidance?”
“I don’t know,” Kieran admitted, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “But I’m not going to just stand by and let someone like him get lost. He deserves better than that.”
Before Padmé could respond, Anakin’s eager voice rang out from the garage. “Here it is!”
The two of them stepped into the dusty, dimly lit space where Anakin’s podracer was parked. The vehicle was cobbled together from mismatched parts, its twin engines massive and imposing compared to the small, sleek cockpit suspended between them. It was a chaotic but ingenious piece of engineering, the kind of creation that could only come from someone with an innate understanding of machines—and a lot of determination.
Kieran whistled low, walking around the podracer to take it in from every angle. “You built this yourself?”
Anakin grinned, practically glowing under the praise. “Every part! Well, almost. Some of it I had to scavenge, and Watto let me borrow a few pieces from the shop. But yeah, it’s all mine.”
Padmé stepped closer, inspecting the cockpit with wide eyes. “It’s… huge. And these engines—how do you even control something like this?”
Anakin puffed up with pride. “It’s all about reflexes. Podracing is fast—really fast—but you just have to stay focused. If you let yourself get scared, you’re done.”
Kieran leaned against the edge of the cockpit, studying Anakin thoughtfully. “And you’re not scared? Not even a little?”
Anakin shrugged, his expression turning serious for a moment. “Not really. I mean, I get nervous sometimes, but… when I’m racing, it feels like I’m connected to everything around me. The podracer, the track, even the other racers. It’s like… it’s all part of me. Does that make sense?”
Kieran’s mismatched eyes softened, and he nodded. “It does. That’s the Force you’re feeling.”
Anakin tilted his head, curious. “The Force?”
“It’s what connects everything in the galaxy,” Kieran explained. “You don’t have to be a Jedi to feel it. Some people are just more in tune with it than others. And you, Anakin…” He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. “You’re more in tune with it than anyone I’ve ever met.”
Anakin’s eyes widened, and he grinned. “You think so?”
“I know so,” Kieran said firmly. “But you’ve got to be careful with it. The Force is powerful, and if you’re not careful, it can lead you down paths you don’t want to go.”
Anakin’s grin faltered slightly, his gaze turning thoughtful. “Like… bad paths?”
Kieran nodded. “Exactly. That’s why you need to learn how to use it the right way. Not just for yourself, but for the people you care about.”
Anakin looked down at the cockpit of his podracer, his small hands running over the worn edges of the controls. “I just want to help my mom,” he said quietly. “If I could, I’d free her and take her someplace better. Somewhere safe.”
Kieran felt a lump rise in his throat at the boy’s sincerity. He crouched down slightly, meeting Anakin’s gaze on his level. “You will,” he said, his voice steady. “I promise you, Anakin. One way or another, we’ll make sure you and your mom are free.”
Anakin’s eyes lit up with a mix of hope and gratitude, and he nodded. “Thanks, Kieran.”
Before the moment could grow too heavy, Padmé spoke up, her tone light. “So… when’s your next race?”
Anakin’s grin returned full force, and he pointed toward a stack of tools in the corner. “Soon, if I can finish tuning up the engines. I’ve got the fastest podracer on Tatooine, but Watto doesn’t let me race too often. Says it’s bad for business.”
“Bad for business, or bad for Watto’s ego?” Kieran muttered with a smirk, earning a laugh from Anakin.
The sound of footsteps approached, and Qui-Gon stepped into the garage, his gaze sweeping over the podracer. “An impressive machine,” he said, his tone warm. “And dangerous.”
“I can handle it,” Anakin said confidently.
“I don’t doubt that,” Qui-Gon replied, his expression thoughtful. “And it may just be what we need.”
Kieran straightened, already knowing where this was going. “You’re thinking about entering him in a race, aren’t you?”
Qui-Gon nodded, his calm demeanor unwavering. “Watto won’t accept credits, and we need that hyperdrive. If Anakin wins, the prize money will cover the cost.”
“Whoa, hold on,” Padmé interjected, her brow furrowing. “You’re going to put a child in a podrace to pay for parts? Isn’t that… risky?”
“Very risky,” Qui-Gon admitted. “But Anakin is the only human who can do it. And I have faith that the Force will guide him.”
Anakin’s chest puffed up with pride, but Kieran frowned, crossing his arms. “And what about his mom? If something happens to him—”
“It won’t,” Qui-Gon interrupted, his tone firm but not unkind. “I’ll make sure of it.”
Kieran’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue further. He glanced at Anakin, who was practically vibrating with excitement at the prospect of racing, and then at Padmé, who still looked uneasy. Kieran exhaled slowly, forcing himself to trust Qui-Gon’s judgment, even if every instinct told him this was a dangerous gamble.
“All right,” Kieran said finally, his voice quieter. “But I’m going to help him. If we’re doing this, he’s not going to face it alone.”
Qui-Gon nodded approvingly. “Good. He’ll need all the support he can get.”
Anakin grinned at Kieran, his enthusiasm infectious. “You’re going to help me? Wizard!”
Kieran couldn’t help but smile despite his reservations. “Yeah, kid. Let’s make sure you’re ready to win.”
Anakin practically vibrated with excitement as he darted over to the podracer, already pointing out details to Kieran and Padmé. His small hands moved animatedly as he described the upgrades he’d been working on, from reinforced fuel injectors to a more responsive control yoke. The boy’s enthusiasm was infectious, and even Padmé couldn’t help but crack a small smile as she listened.
“This is the stabilizer,” Anakin explained, crouching by one of the massive engines. “I had to replace it last week—got it from one of the Jawas. They didn’t even know what they had!” He grinned, his sandy hair falling into his face as he looked back at Kieran. “But I fixed it up, and now it’s better than new.”
Kieran leaned in to inspect the stabilizer, nodding appreciatively. “Not bad, kid. You’ve got a knack for this.” He ran a hand over the rough surface of the engine. “I can see why you win races. This thing looks like it’s got enough power to leave most podracers in the dust.”
Anakin beamed. “It’s fast, all right. Faster than Sebulba’s. He doesn’t think so, but I know it is.”
“Sebulba?” Padmé asked, raising an eyebrow as she crouched beside them. “Who’s that?”
“Only the best podracer on Tatooine,” Anakin said, his tone thick with sarcasm. “He cheats, though. A lot. That’s why he always wins.”
Kieran frowned slightly, his mismatched eyes narrowing. “Cheats how?”
“Sabotages other racers,” Anakin said, shrugging as if it were a fact of life. “Cuts fuel lines, jams stabilizers, stuff like that. No one does anything about it because he’s rich and dangerous.”
Padmé’s expression darkened, her voice firm. “That doesn’t sound fair.”
“It’s not,” Anakin said matter-of-factly. “But I’ve beaten him before. I can do it again.”
Kieran crossed his arms, glancing at Qui-Gon, who had been silently observing the exchange. “Sounds like we’ll have to keep an eye on him during the race.”
Qui-Gon nodded slightly, his expression thoughtful. “Indeed. Sabotage or not, Anakin’s skill will have to carry him through.”
“Don’t worry,” Anakin said confidently, brushing dust from his hands as he stood. “I’ve got this.”
Kieran couldn’t help but smile at the boy’s unwavering confidence. But beneath that smile, there was a flicker of unease. The stakes were high, and despite Anakin’s talent, the danger was very real. Kieran knew podracing wasn’t just about speed—it was about surviving.
Padmé seemed to share his concern. She stood, brushing off her skirts, and folded her arms. “It’s still a risk. If anything happens to Anakin—”
“It won’t,” Anakin interrupted, his tone firm. “I’ve raced plenty of times before. I know what I’m doing.”
Qui-Gon stepped forward, his calm presence commanding attention. “Anakin is right. He knows the risks better than any of us, and he’s willing to face them. The Force will guide him.”
Padmé’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she said nothing further. She glanced at Kieran, as if hoping he might argue, but he simply shrugged. There was no point fighting Qui-Gon on this—not when he had already made up his mind.
“All right,” Kieran said after a moment, turning back to Anakin. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. What else needs fixing before the race?”
Anakin’s face lit up, and he gestured toward the cockpit. “The control yoke’s a little sticky, and one of the coolant valves needs replacing. Oh, and I’ve got to calibrate the throttle system—it’s been acting weird.”
Kieran nodded, rolling up his sleeves. “Then let’s get to work.”
----------------------------------------
The hours passed quickly as the group worked on the podracer. Anakin buzzed around the garage like a whirlwind, handing Kieran tools, explaining modifications, and occasionally pausing to tweak something himself. Kieran found himself surprisingly impressed by the boy’s ingenuity—his solutions were simple but effective, and his understanding of mechanics rivaled that of seasoned engineers.
Padmé helped where she could, though it was clear she wasn’t familiar with machinery. Still, she followed Anakin’s instructions diligently, holding parts in place or fetching tools when needed. Her willingness to get her hands dirty seemed to earn her Anakin’s approval, and the two of them quickly fell into an easy rhythm.
Kieran, meanwhile, focused on the throttle system. He crouched beside the cockpit, his mismatched eyes narrowing as he adjusted the delicate mechanisms. “All right, try it now,” he called to Anakin, who was sitting in the cockpit.
Anakin pulled the throttle lever, and the engines let out a low hum. “It’s smoother!” he said, his voice brimming with excitement. “You fixed it!”
“Not bad for a Jedi, huh?” Kieran said, grinning as he stood and dusted off his hands.
Anakin laughed. “Not bad at all.”
The sound of the garage door sliding open drew everyone’s attention. Shmi stepped inside, her gaze sweeping over the group and the podracer. “You’ve been busy,” she said, her tone warm but tinged with worry.
Anakin hopped out of the cockpit, wiping his hands on his tunic. “We’re almost ready, Mom. The podracer’s in great shape now.”
Shmi’s eyes softened as she looked at her son, but there was a shadow of concern in her expression. “Anakin…”
“I’ll be fine,” Anakin said quickly, cutting her off. “You know I will.”
Shmi hesitated, her gaze flicking to Kieran and Qui-Gon as if searching for reassurance. Qui-Gon stepped forward, his voice calm and steady. “I promise you, no harm will come to him. The Force will be with him.”
Shmi nodded slowly, though the worry didn’t entirely leave her eyes. “I know. I just… I don’t like seeing him risk so much.”
Kieran stepped forward, his tone quiet but firm. “Neither do I. But he’s determined, and I’ll be there to watch his back.”
Shmi offered him a faint smile, her gratitude clear. “Thank you.”
Anakin, oblivious to the tension, grinned and turned back to his podracer. “I can’t wait for tomorrow. It’s going to be amazing!”
Padmé leaned against the wall, her arms crossed as she watched Anakin with a mixture of amusement and concern. “Let’s just hope all this work pays off.”
“It will,” Anakin said confidently, his eyes shining with excitement. “You’ll see.”
Kieran went out of earshot and walked over to Qui-Gon, "Master, if we're going to bet, we should include Anakin and try to include Shimi in the bet too."
The Jedi Master looked at the Padawan, "What do you mean, Kieran?"
"Well, if we're going to bet, we better go all in, right?"
Qui-Gon’s brow furrowed as he studied Kieran, his calm eyes narrowing just slightly. “Explain your reasoning, Padawan.”
Kieran took a deep breath, lowering his voice so their conversation wouldn’t reach Anakin or his mother. “Master, it’s obvious Anakin’s enslaved here—he and his mom both. I can’t ignore that. If we’re going to take this risk and put Anakin in danger with this podrace, we owe it to him and Shmi to do everything we can to free them. Not just him. Her too.”
Qui-Gon’s gaze didn’t waver. “A noble intention, but risky. Watto is unlikely to agree to such terms without significant leverage. What would you propose we offer?”
Kieran glanced back toward Anakin, who was leaning over his podracer, explaining some detail about the fuel lines to Padmé. The boy was so full of light, so optimistic about his future, even while living in these circumstances. Kieran couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Shmi behind, knowing it would eventually weigh on Anakin’s heart and pave the way for his fall.
“I don’t know exactly what Watto would take,” Kieran admitted. “But we know he’s greedy. If Anakin wins, the podracer could be used as part of the bet. You could sweeten the deal—make him think he’s getting more than just the parts we need.”
Qui-Gon considered this, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “You’d risk everything on one race? Including Anakin’s future?”
Kieran’s eyes burned with determination. “Master, Anakin’s future is tied to his mother. You’ve seen how much he cares about her. If we leave her behind… it’ll destroy him eventually. He’ll always wonder why we didn’t help her when we had the chance. And if that doubt turns into anger…” Kieran hesitated, lowering his voice further. “We can’t let that happen.”
Qui-Gon’s expression softened slightly, the weight of Kieran’s words settling over him. “You’re deeply invested in this boy’s destiny.”
Kieran hesitated, searching for the right way to explain himself without revealing the truth of his knowledge. “I… feel something in the Force, Master. Something strong. His path is connected to ours, and I believe it’s our responsibility to make sure he starts that path with hope, not loss.”
Qui-Gon studied him for a moment longer, then nodded slowly. “Very well. I’ll see if Watto is willing to negotiate further.”
Kieran felt a wave of relief but kept his expression calm. “Thank you, Master.”
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The next morning, as the twin suns of Tatooine began to rise over the desert, Qui-Gon, Kieran, and Anakin made their way back to Watto’s junk shop. Anakin was practically bouncing with excitement, his boundless energy radiating like a beacon in the Force. Kieran walked beside him, matching his pace, while Qui-Gon moved with his usual measured calm.
As they entered the cluttered shop, Watto hovered behind the counter, his wings buzzing lazily. His eyes narrowed at the sight of them. “Back already? What do you want now?”
Qui-Gon stepped forward, his hands clasped calmly behind his back. “I want to make a new wager.”
Watto’s bulbous eyes gleamed with interest, though he tried to hide it behind a scoff. “A new wager? What’re you up to, Jedi?”
“I’m wagering that Anakin will win the podrace tomorrow,” Qui-Gon said evenly. “If he does, you’ll release the boy and his mother. Both of them.”
Watto let out a barking laugh, the sound sharp and grating. “Ha! You Jedi are crazier than I thought! Both of them? That’s worth more than your fancy ship parts, my friend. What else are you putting on the table?”
Qui-Gon’s gaze didn’t waver. “Our podracer. It’s fast—very fast. You could even say it's the fastest. You'll see it tomorrow.”
Watto shook his head, "It still doesn't cover the price for both of them and your ship parts. What else are you putting?"
Qui-Gon smiled, "The ship."
Watto laughed, "The Nubian? Now, you're speaking my language. The podracer, is it as fast as Sebulba's?"
Kieran stepped in, "Yes, it's faster than any podracer I've seen in my life." I'm technically not lying since I've never seen a podracer fly.
Watto hovered back, his hands on his hips as he weighed the deal. “If he wins, I get the podracer and the winnings… and I let the boy and his mother go free?”
Kieran replied, "The winning minus the price for our parts."
Qui-Gon nodded, "What the boy said. That's the deal."
Watto’s beady eyes flicked back to Anakin, who stood straight and proud, exuding confidence far beyond his years. “You’re awfully sure of yourself, boy,” Watto sneered. “Think you can take on Sebulba?”
Anakin grinned, undaunted. “I know I can.”
Watto let out a snort, but his gaze lingered on the podracer parked outside, gleaming under the harsh Tatooine suns. The temptation was too much for him to resist. “Fine,” Watto said finally, holding out his hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Jedi. But don’t come crying to me when the boy loses, and you’re out a podracer and your ship.”
Qui-Gon shook his grubby hand, "We'll see about that."
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Later that day, the group gathered in the garage, the podracer gleaming under the dim lights. Anakin was crawling under one of the engines, making a final adjustment to the stabilizers, while Padmé sat nearby, watching him with a mixture of amusement and concern.
“I can’t believe Watto actually agreed to the bet,” Padmé said softly, her arms crossed as she leaned against the wall.
“Greed makes people predictable,” Kieran said, crouching by the cockpit as he double-checked the throttle system. “He’s banking on Anakin losing—and on walking away with the ship.”
Padmé frowned. “And if Anakin doesn’t win?”
Kieran glanced up at her, his expression serious. “He will. He has to.”
She didn’t look convinced. “That’s a lot of pressure to put on one child.”
“Pressure or not, he can handle it,” Kieran said, his tone more confident than he felt. “He’s not just a kid, Padmé."
Before Padmé could respond, Anakin’s cheerful voice cut through the air. “All done! The podracer’s ready to go!”
Kieran grinned, standing and brushing the dust off his hands. “Good. Then let’s make sure you’re ready too, kid.”
Anakin climbed out from under the engine, his face streaked with grease but his smile as bright as ever. “I’m always ready.”
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As the twin suns of Tatooine began to set, painting the desert in shades of orange and gold, Kieran found himself sitting outside the garage, staring out at the endless dunes. Anakin joined him a moment later, his small frame settling beside the older boy.
“Do you think Watto will keep his word?” Anakin asked quietly, his gaze fixed on the horizon.
Kieran hesitated, his eyes flicking to the boy. “Watto’s a lot of things, but he’s not stupid. If you win, he’ll have no choice but to let you and your mom go.”
Anakin nodded, his expression thoughtful. “And if I lose?”
“You won’t,” Kieran said firmly. “Not with everything you’ve got riding on this. You’re going to win, Anakin. I can feel it.”
Anakin’s smile returned, small but hopeful. “Thanks, Kieran.”
Kieran placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “Get some rest, kid. Tomorrow’s a big day.”
He looked at the binary sunset as he sighed. Luke Skywalker would see this sunset years later if the Empire rose. He just hoped it wouldn't come to that.