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| - If Padmé wasn’t impressed by Anakin before, she was not when she saw how he managed to use the emergency ramp to his advantage. Was that intended? But even if it wasn’t it was impressive, and for the first time she started to think about what Qui-Gon had said. Use your senses, Padmé, he had told her. Up until then she had dismissed what she had seen, but the podracing itself, let alone that show with the emergency ramp convinced her otherwise. Clearly there was something about this boy. Sebulba vowed he would never be beat by a no-good slave boy and threw all caution to the wind so he could take the lead again. He was right on Anakin’s tail as they went through Beggar’s Canyon, waiting for that moment, that chance. That chance came when the track widened again and the stabiliser on Anakin’s left engine failed. It had to be working…right? But wasn't Sebulba right near his pod before the race started? Anakin gritted his teeth as he jettisoned the malfunctioning stabiliser and routed all power to the auxiliary, giving the lead to Sebulba. But several seconds after Anakin was forced to reduce speed, he thrust the pod forward, using all his reserve of energy catching the Dug. He was forced to chase Sebulba through a narrow stretch of the track, but once on the wide expanse again he tried to pass the Dug on the left. Sebulba was waiting, he slammed right into Anakin’s pod with no regard for safety—be it his or the boy’s—crashing them both against the stone. Anakin was quick to reduce his speed, but tried to pass the Dug again, this time on the right. Sebulba couldn’t block him this time and they were side by side for a few seconds, yet Sebulba did not allow Anakin to go further. Anakin shifted left, Sebulba blocked him, he shifted right and the Dug blocked him again. Then Anakin feinted, making to shift left and then when Sebulba came to intercept him he shifted right. But instead of Anakin breaking free the two pods collided and locked together. Sebulba merely laughed, if he couldn’t win the race he would make sure the boy couldn’t either. Anakin pulled on his thruster bars, trying to disentangle his pod from Sebulba’s. In his mind’s eye he could see where they caught, and a simple tug would have them apart again. With all his force of will Anakin pulled, something snapped and Anakin’s pod was free, speeding for the finish. The snap happened to be one of the couplings for Sebulba’s racer, his pod bounced on the ground, scattering parts and bits of metal, his other engine joining the explosion of the first. Finally his cockpit came to a stand still, Sebulba sat there defiantly, throwing pieces of his pod as far as he could. “Poodoo!” he bellowed. The crowd was on its feet, screaming and jumping as Anakin crossed the finish line, the youngest ever as well as the first human to win the Boonta Eve Classic. A throng of beings rushed to meet him, helping him out of the pod, slapping him on the back, holding him up and chanting his name. More rushed to join them and somewhere Anakin could see his mother, he cheeks flushed with pride. Qui-Gon and Padmé were with her, coming forward to meet him, their good wishes lost with those of the crowd. Kitster ran towards him, his eyes aflame with joy, jumping up and down and waving his arms. Danta quite forgot himself and did a crazy little dance as Anakin was brought through the crowd on Qui-Gon’s shoulders, Artoo chirped and whistled triumphantly and even Threepio put in a good word. Not everyone was pleased of course, yet this put no dampener on Anakin spirit. Up in his box Jabba the Hutt was seen to be exchanging more that a few hot words with his Twi’lek aide, bookmakers lamented their losses as Sebulba had been a sure favourite, and a certain Toydarian flitted around a rapidly depopulating box with his pockets considerably lighter. When someone approached him he gave them merely a glance, but when he saw it was Qui-Gon he advanced on the Jedi Master menacingly. “You! You swindled me!” Watto accused, his voice dripping with rage. “You knew the boy would win, somehow you knew! I—I lost everything!” Qui-Gon regarded Watto’s situation with barely more than a shrug. “If you gamble long enough, my friend, you’ll lose,” his tone turned serious. “Bring the parts to the main hangar right away. I’ll come to your shop with the boy so you can free him.” “No!” Watto’s nose drew level with Qui-Gon’s. “You can’t have him, that was in no way a fair bet!” Qui-Gon stared right back at him. “Would you care to take this up with the Hutts, then? I am sure they would have plenty say about this.” Watto drew back. “No, no! No more tricks,” he waved the Jedi Master away. “Take the boy and be gone! Go!” Watto flew out of the box, grumbling to himself. Qui-Gon followed soon after, walking back down to the track. He was so absorbed with his thoughts that he failed to see the black probe droid, tracking him. Winner or no, Anakin looked like he had been dragged behind a landspeeder by the amount of dust and grime on him. Not to mention the tears in his jacket, the cut in his arm and the small scratch on his cheek from the struggle with Sebulba. “You look a mess, Annie,” Qui-Gon said, wiping the blood off Anakin’s cheek and placing his hands on his shoulders. Anakin grinned, if looking like this meant winning then he didn’t mind at all. He let Qui-Gon bind his arm, let Shmi and Padmé congratulate him with hugs and kisses, but when Shmi started to check him more acutely for cuts and bruises he wriggled out of her grip. “Mom…enough,” he said, but his mother merely gave him another hug. “But it’s so wonderful, Annie,” Shmi told him. “You have given hope to those who have none. I’m very proud of you.” “We owe you everything,” Padmé said with a beaming smile. Anakin found himself blushing under Padmé’s warm gaze. “Gee…” he said in embarrassment, “just feeling this good is worth it.” Behind the pod were the hyperdrive parts that Watto had delivered earlier, though not without protest as well as a few well-chosen words against Qui-Gon. The Jedi Master checked the repulsor sled where they were, they were all accounted for and in relative good condition. He turned to Padmé and Danta. “Come on, we have to get going,” he told them. “We need to get these parts loaded and back to the ship.” With somewhat dampened energy the parts were loaded on the eopies. Padmé kissed Anakin’s cheek and mounted in front of Danta, Qui-Gon lifted Artoo up behind him. “I’ll return the eopies by midday,” Qui-Gon promised, and with that they were gone. All the happiness of winning melted away from Anakin as fast as mist disappeared in Tatooine’s morning sun as he watched them go. He waved for a time, hoping that he would catch Padmé’s eye. But she did not look back. Obi-Wan was waiting for them at the ship, he helped them unload the parts and asked no questions until they were on board. Yet when his Master said he had to return to the city, Obi-Wan looked at him curiously. “It’s for some unfinished business,” Qui-Gon told him. “I won’t be long.” “Why do I have the feeling we’ve picked up another pathetic life form, Master?” Obi-Wan asked with obvious cynicism. “It’s the boy responsible for getting these parts,” the Jedi Master replied. “That midi-chlorian sample you ran last night?” Obi-Wan nodded, offering no comment as his Master went back, turning back to the ship before he could see the probe droid making a final transmission then speeding away.
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