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| - The suns glaringly beat down on the group as they made their way towards the city. Padmé wished that the cloak she wore had a hood as she could feel her face starting to burn. Danta did not look too pleased with the heat either, he was picking at his loose orange skin and muttering in an unintelligible language. Only Qui-Gon and Artoo looked unperturbed, but then again Artoo was a droid and nothing would really affect him. The Jedi Master wore a rough grey poncho over his robes, he looked like a farmer and his long strides made it an effort to keep up. The suns were at their zenith when they entered the city, it seemed as if beings from everywhere in the galaxy were there for some reason that Padmé could not fathom. Master Devi had told her that the worst denizens of the galaxy usually chose equally bad places to congregate. As they walked to the spaceport, Padmé could not help but agree. Here and there were landspeeders of various makes and designs as well as beasts of burden such as dewbacks, eopies, banthas and once they had to precariously walk past a large bucking ronto. Most beings gave the impression that they would rather be elsewhere, either by their species, dress or the furtive way they carried themselves. If Padmé was feeling slightly lost in all of this, Qui-Gon was on his guard knowing full well that some beings simply existed for stirring up trouble. But most paid them no heed, a few glanced at Danta but on the whole they were ignored. “It’s almost as if it’s part of our duty to see dark ends of the galaxy,” Qui-Gon said to Padmé. “Most of Tatooine’s wealth is done through trafficking in illegal goods, piracy and the slave trade. All of which are controlled by Jabba the Hutt, he controls the cities while the Jawas and Tuskens dwell in the desert. This planet might be out of the way, but most of those who do not wish to be found end up here.” “Like us,” Padmé agreed, she lowered her gaze so to ignore the stares of the many sentient males. Danta had reluctantly left his spear on board the Naboo starship and was staring rather sulkily at everyone. He thought space travel would be interesting but this blistering heat was unbearable. And what would he do if he was attacked? The moment he turned his back on someone he felt they were still watching him. At the far end of the spaceport they turned down a side street where a small array of junk shops and dealers stood, almost on top of each other. At the pile of parts outside Qui-Gon stopped. “We’ll try one of these small dealers first,” he said, then stooped through a low doorway to enter a shop. Padmé followed him, wrinkling her nose at the collection of smells that greeted them as soon as they entered. Almost immediately a pudgy blue creature flew straight into their faces making Padmé jump back. A Toydarian, Padmé thought and she noticed Qui-Gon had recognised the being as well. He flitted about his shop rather suspiciously, he had large bulging eyes and a long nose that hid part of his scruffy stubble. “Hi chubba da nogo?” the Toydarian snapped, demanding to know their business. “I need parts for a J-type 327 Nubian,” Qui-Gon replied evenly. The Toydarian seemed to leap in the air with delight. He beamed as he rubbed his hands together. “Ah, yes! Nubian! We have lots of that!” He searched Qui-Gon’s face, then inspected them each in turn ending with Danta. Danta merely stared back. “What’s this?” Qui-Gon dismissed his question with a wave of his hand. “Can you help us or not?” The hidden threat that he would take his business elsewhere resonated loudly. “Depends if you can pay me or not,” the Toydarian retorted, folding his arms defiantly across his chest. “What you after farmer?” “My droid has a readout of what I need,” Qui-Gon replied and gestured to Artoo. The Toydarian shouted over his shoulder to the back of the shop. “Peedunkel! Naba dee unko!” A small boy with sand-coloured hair ran in from the salvage yard. His rough clothes were ragged and grime streaked and he flinched fearfully as the Toydarian stared at him, his blue eyes smarting. “What took you so long?” “Mel tass cho-pas kee,” the boy replied in a rush, he examined the newcomers but his gaze stopped at Padmé until the Toydarian spoke again. “Chut-chut!” The Toydarian threw up his hands in admonishment and the boy started nervously. “Watch the store! I’ve got some selling to do!” He then turned back to Qui-Gon. “Let me take you out back. You’ll find what you need.” He gestured towards the doorway and the Jedi followed, Artoo trailing him. Danta occupied himself by staring at a sand-blasted droid, Padmé looked around rather anxiously then sat down on a storage bin with her back against the counter. The boy was staring at her, he was sitting on the counter and pretending to clean a small device but kept stealing glances at her. He looked about nine or ten and perfectly at ease with himself, yet he looked at Padmé rather longingly. Finally their eyes met. “I’m sorry,” he said with a smile and blushed, “you’re very beautiful.” “What?” the compliment had taken her completely off guard. “Hasn’t anyone told you?” he asked her. “No,” Padmé replied and it was true. Master Devi had told her that facetious glances from males were a fact of life. But that was nothing like this, and yet the way he said it in an innocent and practical way as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I was wondering if you were an angel,” he said with an impish grin, “I heard they live on the moons of Iego and they are so pretty they make space pirates cry,” he paused, then continued solemnly, “but it just seems funny that you would be here if you were an angel.” “I’m not an angel—”she paused as she did not know his name. “Anakin,” he said with another smile, “I’m Anakin Skywalker.” “I’m Padmé Naberrie,” she replied, smiling in spite of herself. “How do you know so much, Anakin?” “I listen to all the traders and pilots who come here,” he said, “I’m a pilot,” he added proudly. “And someday I’m going to find away from this place.” There was something about his innocence—or was it is naiveté?—that was comforting, the first comforting feeling she had had ever since coming up on this planet. “Have you lived here long?” Padmé asked. “Since I was little—three, I think,” Anakin answered after some thought. “My mom and I were sold to Gardulla the Hutt but she lost us to Watto. Watto’s a better master, I think.” “You’re a slave?” Padmé stared at him in shock. “I’m a person!” he replied indignantly. His face reddening with anger. “I'm sorry,” Padmé said defensively. “I haven’t been to very many places; this is a very strange world to me.” Anakin looked at her, yet something in his expression made Padmé blush and touch her hair self-consciously. What was wrong with her? Anakin smiled innocently at her, then his gaze flickered to Danta who was poking a gonk droid with a sharp tool. “Don’t stick that….” Anakin flinched as a jolt of electricity went though the Gungan’s body and he fell to the floor. In a moment Anakin and Padmé were bent over him. “I think he’s out,” Padmé said, slapping his face. Watto’s eyes were as bright as the twin suns as he flitted around Qui-Gon, talking rapidly while checking his datapad. He waved his other arm wildly in flamboyant gestures which Qui-Gon chose to ignore. Finally he came to a stop near a battered metal hulk, caked with sand. “Here we are, a Nubian!” the Toydarian announced triumphantly. “Though for the price, you might as well buy a new ship, hey?” Qui-Gon ignored the joke and Watto scowled. “So,” he resumed his patter, “how are you planning to pay for this?” “I have ten thousand Republic credits,” Qui-Gon replied mildly. “Credits?” Watto’s brow furrowed further. “They no good for me, I need something real something of value.” “Of course,” said the Jedi deferentially, then moved his hand very slightly, “but credits will be fine.” “No, they won’t,” Watto insisted. “Credits will be fine,” Qui-Gon moved his hand more noticeably now, putting the full weight of the Force into his words. He tried to touch the Toydarian’s mind with his own, but while he could sense the being’s presence, at the mind he drew a blank. “No, they won’t! What do you think you are waving your hand about like that?” Watto barked, moving his own hands frantically. “You think you are a Jedi or something? Mind tricks don’t work on me, only money! No money, no parts, no deal!” he finished crisply. “I will take my business elsewhere then,” Qui-Gon said, turning away and walking back into the shop. Watto trailed after him. “Nobody else has a Nubian generator, I can promise you that!” he said, yet Qui-Gon didn’t comment. Padmé and Anakin managed to revive Danta, yet the Gungan could not stand without support. Padmé had her arm around his shoulder, and the rubbery skin felt slippery under her touch. “Does he normally get in so much trouble?” Anakin asked with a grin. “I don’t know,” Padmé confessed, “I haven’t known him long.” Danta shook out his face making a rude-sounding noise as he did so. At this Anakin and Padmé jumped back and the Gungan toppled over again. Anakin laughed as he and Padmé pulled Danta to his feet. “You need to stay away from power droids,” he told the Gungan, “if you had any hair it would be straight up and full of sparks.” They were both laughing as Qui-Gon and Artoo entered. “We’re going,” Qui-Gon said, not stopping. Anakin started at this news, he watched Padmé rather nervously as she supported Danta. “I was glad to meet you Anakin,” Padmé said as she followed Qui-Gon out. “I was glad to meet you too!” Anakin replied, smiling in spite of himself. If there was any trepidation in Anakin’s voice, Padmé didn’t notice it and she didn’t look back. “Outlanders,” Watto barked in Huttese when she had gone, “they think they can do whatever they want.” “I didn’t think they were that bad,” Anakin replied, almost hopefully. “Hmmmph,” Watto turned away from Anakin with the air of knowing much more about the natures of life than his nine-year-old slave. “Clean up the back and then you can go home,” the Toydarian said, flitting out of sight. As Anakin ran out to the back of the shop, he could not help but give a tiny cheer.
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