章節 8: How glorious it is to die in time!
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* Anakin Skywalker *
As expected. And I expected the worst, and my worst suspicions were confirmed - we, or rather Qui-Gon and his apprentice were sent to Neimodia, and with the task to penetrate and disable part of the planetary shield. I had no idea how exactly this system worked, but I think I remember something from the canon... though not from this era.
Qui-Gon left, followed by his apprentice, and I was left alone, in the company of Erdv. The droid squeaked something really cheerful, and moved into the middle of the cabin.
The ship began to shake and I had to sit down in the chair, but Erdva, designed for repair work in open space, would not even feel such a shake. To be more exact - he would not pay attention - his centre of gravity is practically above the tracks, in the bottom, so it is not an easy task to topple the bucket.
After the shaking was over, the Jedi returned.
- Anakin, you heard our mission. I hope nothing like this happens to you?
- Who knows, Qui-Gon, who knows? I've been so unlucky with all sorts of "accidents" lately, it seems like they're not random....
Strangely enough, it worked on Qui-Gon. I was right - Jedi are closer to philosophers by upbringing, so are able to think in specific ways.
- You can't be sure of that either, Anakin. Obi-Wan? You heard the orders, so get ready, get everything you need.
- Yes, Master. - Kenobi replied, and after giving me a brief glance, went to his quarters.
A few more minutes later, the ship landed with a crash. I hoped, of course, that the crackling belonged to the shamelessly destroyed flora of Neimodia and not the hull of the ship.
The Jedi dressed and in full attire walked out onto the planet's surface, and I was alone, not counting the droid. Oh, yes, and the ship's crew.
- Erdva, what do you think about this? Maybe we should have informed HQ that I was on the ship.
- It's fruitless. Ineffective. ** - He squeaked in Binary.... And I know him! That's news to me.
- Why? We wouldn't be at such risk.
- ** Disabling the shield would be costly... analysing... overcoming it with weapons... siege the planet... at least a hundred dreadnought-class ships and bombarding the shield... the feasibility of sabotage is confirmed ** - this bucket on caterpillars gave out almost without hesitation. And the language is primitive, designed for technical communication. I guess it's not fated to squeak something philosophical in binary. But it was short and clear - what is the risk of two Jedi compared to the prospect of bombing the planet's shield, spending a lot of money and effort?
- Erdva, why did you even come with us?
- **Unconfirmed. Not "with you", you didn't realise what ship you were in. **
- Whoa, whoa, whoa! Don't get off the subject! By the way, I got on that starship by accident. I saw you. I came here myself. Don't tell me you're confusing this ship with the Nubian.
- Confirmed. Confused. **
- Is that what you think? You want to play dumb? Well, that's your right. - I admit it. If he doesn't want to argue, then fuck him.
I turned away from Erdv and stared at the training droid. That asshole had gotten me a few times, but after I'd not only called the lightsaber a lightsaber, but also realised the similarity in possible style of use, it was easier. The checker was probably the longest-lived weapon in the army - even in the era of machine guns and armoured vehicles it was found on the battlefield. However, remembering how often hand-to-hand combat took place in the Second World War, it was probably in vain to abandon draughts - the weapon is indispensable in a fight. First of all, an experienced fighter will take out a checker and strike faster than he takes out a pistol and shoots. It's like with cowboys - there's fast and there's dead. But the main difference between the checker and the sword is that it "grew" from the knife, and it was wielded with scathing blows, not forceful ones. It had no rudiments for fighting armoured knights, but it had high speed. And of course, I saw a couple of demonstrations on TV - when this very checker was swung left and right, just like the masters of Japanese martial arts. The whole secret is that it is not a combat skill at all, but rather an exercise in weapon mastery, which requires a clear sense of the centre of gravity and rotation of the blade, i.e. working with the hand.
The Jedi were gone, the droid was silent, the ship's crew was somewhere at the control station, and I was alone in the oppressive silence. After thinking for a moment, I switched on my sword and, without blindfolding myself, began practising a new movement. The captain of the ship caught me doing just that - he ran out of his cabin and turned his attention to me:
- Are you a Jedi? It's urgent! There's a Neimodian patrol ship coming this way! It seems they've spotted us.
- What? How? When?
- Just now. We're picking up a ship on radar, a military ship!
- Holy shit..." I remained silent and looked up at the captain, "and what are you talking to me for?"
- We are under the authority of the Jedi! What are we supposed to do?
- No, you found someone to ask," I grumbled, "is the shield still in place?
- Yes.
- Then get the ship up, the generator must have air defence..." I was thinking urgently about what we should do. Go back for Qui-Gon?
- On the bridge, now! - I was the first to duck down the aisle and into the control room. There were two other people in the control room, sitting behind monitors, who paid no attention to me.
- How far is it from here to the nearest spaceport?
- About ten kilometres. - one of the operators told me.
- Do you have a connection to Qui-Gon?
- Yes, can you establish it?
- Yes, if you can. Where's the ship? Have they spotted us?
- They're about to. - Replied the same technician, gritting his teeth.
- Take off and head for the spaceport. Get Qui-Gon on the line, quick!
Before I could say anything, the ship shook and rocked, and we started to lift off.
- We've been spotted! Full speed ahead to the spaceport! - said the captain, holding on to the back of one of the seats.
A rather swampy landscape with ugly grey trees flashed in front of the windshield, and we headed off in a direction.
- Yes?" Qui-Gon's voice rang through the cabin.
- We've got a connection," the man said, and clicked even faster on the touch keys of the holomonitor.
All that's left for me to do, like a fool, is to speak into space:
- Qui-Gon, can you hear us?
- Do I hear you good? What's your status?
At that moment, a red blaster blast whizzed past the ship and went off somewhere in the swamp. The crew that had saved the ship from being hit quietly swore in three voices and the captain loudly ordered: "Shields at full power!"
- Understood. Have you been detected? I shouldn't have relied on the noise from the unfolding shield... they must have had some other means of detection. - Said the speakers and went silent.
- Qui-Gon? Can you hear me? We're heading for the nearest spaceport. Shut down the shield now, we'll contact Yoda and report back!
- No need, just check the first floor. Right, I'll contact the Master myself, you try not to get into any trouble. - And he's off.
- I didn't have enough foul language to express how I felt about his "try not to get in trouble".
- Captain! When will we be at the spaceport?
- In a minute.
At that moment, one of the operators brought up an image of a ship chasing us. It was a fighter.
- I don't think we'll get away from the fighter... - the captain of the ship moaned and sat down in his chair.
- Whatever. Let's go to the spaceport. Maybe we'll make it.
Just at that moment, the shield over the planet disappeared, opening the neimodia for the Republic troops to invade. I looked up - in a few seconds small but rapidly growing black dots began to appear in the sky. Their own.
As we fled, our ship shook three more times, and I think we even took hits, until the buildings and the landing pad appeared out of the misty haze below. The landing looked like a fall, but the crew managed, even though the landing looked like a fall.
- Everybody out, now! - shouted the captain at the crew, and I followed, just in time to check that my sword and credit card were in place.
Almost made it. Almost - the big uncles with the big feet were quicker to burst forward, clutching their phasers, and I fell behind them, trailing behind. The last thing I remembered before I lost consciousness was an explosion behind me - our ship had been hit, and when I was thrown back on the wet concrete, I saw a monstrous-looking ship, at least half a mile long, firing turbolasers at the air defence point of the spaceport....
* Corvette CR-70 *
The rumble of crossed swords caused the crew of the corvette to flee to the captain's cabin and lock themselves in there. The small crew was certainly not accustomed to the oddities of their employer, but the captain and his aides knew firsthand how dangerous it could be to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
After three minutes of relative silence, a slam was heard behind the blast door, and the onboard computer display flashed an alarming red light.
- What is it?
- Main compartment depressurisation, sir! - said the technician, overlapping the nasty siren.
- Lower the bolts! - commanded the ship's captain and in a few seconds the broken windows of the main hall were covered with heavy and airtight durstal plugs. The sound of the siren on the bridge stopped.
- Who's going? - asked the captain to the XO. The latter, swallowing, looked at his astronavigator colleague and, sighing heavily, went into the hall.
And in the hall, sitting on the floor, the tall Muun was breathing heavily. His race was quite survivable and could even survive depressurisation, but not for long. The steel bolts that lowered almost immediately, Muun thought, were a common occurrence-somebody but his crew was not slow, so he had thought of such a trick. Wounded, with his clothes scorched by lightning, Muun Plagas, better known as Hego Damask, tried to catch his breath and recover from the unpleasant sensations of open space - cold and decompression.
The door slid aside, and the ship's XO appeared on the threshold, who, seeing his superior in this condition, immediately rushed to him, asking as he went:
- Are you wounded? Do you need help?
- Yes. Get a meddroid down here," said Plagas calmly. Though his dark side abilities didn't allow him to heal, it wasn't that hard to heal and simply stimulate regeneration.
The XO immediately rushed back when he was reached by the ship's master's call:
- Stop! There's a... human out there in space. Kill what's left of the turbolasers. Make sure there's no ash left.
- Aye, sir! - the assistant captain stretched out and ran back to the bridge of the ship.
* Neimodia, staff ship *
The Master of the Jedi Order landed his staff ship on the planet's central capital spaceport. The city had been in turmoil for hours - pilots of the Trade Federation were leaving the planet en masse, so much so that they could barely be caught. Some managed to slip away with their transport ships, sometimes with their cargo. Huge grey dreadnoughts shadowed the squat buildings of the capital, looming over the surface like a sword of Damocles. Separately, there were squads of fighters.
The Master was not expecting a warm welcome, his goal was only to capture Nut Gunray and get everything he knew about the Sith out of him.
Going round the bridge without anyone noticing, Yoda stepped into the wide cabin and asked his secretary squire to gather all the Jedi in the hall. Within minutes, having received word over the comlinks, the Jedi, thirty in number, entered the hall. The faces present ranged from a twiwinkle with a pretty face and a seductive outfit, to the seeming embodiment of Plo Koon's nightmare. In reality, Plo Koon was a kind and fair Jedi, but his race's inherently repulsive appearance made it difficult to easily talk to him.
After waiting a theatrical pause, the Master spoke:
- Here we are gathered to put an end to the brigands. But beyond that, there is something else you need to know. The head of the Trade Federation, Nut Gunray, has knowledge I need. You must bring him to me alive and well. The Trade Federation palace is the last defence, he's probably there. The skies are already closed over the capital and the capital regions, so there's no way he can leave. Bring him to me, safe and sound... The main thing is that he's alive and able to speak.
The Jedi looked at each other, hearing such commands, but did not dare to argue with the Master and began to disperse, seeing that Yoda had finished his briefing.
- Wait, Plo-Kun, I have a special favour to ask of you.
- Yes, Master? - Plo-Kun stopped and, after waiting for his companions to leave the room, turned his attention to Yoda.
- Qui-Gon Jinn and his padawan were attacked in the spaceport near the dark swamps. Their planetary shields were down, but their ship was under attack. They need help, urgently. - The Master said in a muffled voice.
- So they're without transport?
- I don't know. Maybe they're not, maybe they are. Contact them and find out, and help them get out. You can get the coordinates of the planetary generator they have switched off from the commander of the ship. That's it, Plo, I've said all I have to say. - Yoda was silent, watching Plo go to the captain's bridge without waiting for the audience to end.
* Anakin Skywalker *
Returning consciousness was nostalgic for when I first appeared on Tatooine after some unknown soul transfer incident or something. Only now my body was both weak and unwilling to move, and my shoulder and back also hurt terribly.
I opened my eyes. Thank the power, I'm not in hell, and especially not in Sudan. So I can live. Unfamiliar ceiling. White, with nasty white light bulbs, and the buzzing of a droid nearby. I turned my head. Okay, this is getting interesting. The droid is nothing more than a flying ball with a bunch of manipulators, which is now driving some kind of beam over my long-suffering body.
- Ahem..." was all I could manage to make a sound. The droid immediately retracted its laser and, turning around, flew somewhere behind the door. The cabin, or more precisely the medbay, was small - for two beds, the size of a compartment. There was a lot of equipment mounted on the walls, probably for the droids.
I looked around again, taking a closer look.
Before I could regain my sobriety, a man I didn't know walked into the cabin, dressed in dapper clothes and carrying a light blaster on his belt.
- Are you all right, kid, alive? - he asked me.
- Yes," I answered, and I coughed again, "have you got any water?
- Yes. - He went out and in half a minute returned with a glass of cold clean water and handed it to me:
- Here, drink it," and while I drank, he introduced himself: "Julian Cleavian. I know, I know, it sounds a little posh. - He smiled, seeing my confusion.
- And I'm Anakin Skywalker. I just have one question: Where am I?" I asked this Julian.
- You're aboard the transport ship Lucky Star.....
- Ahem, Ahem... what did you say?
- Er... Lucky Star? It's a good name, by the way! - The man took offence, but immediately continued: - And anyway, I saved you and you're still not happy about it?
- Saved? And who are you?
- The captain of this ship. - he said, stammering. - Awesome.
But he didn't react to my groan, just waited for a few seconds and then asked:
- Okay, let's go in order. When the shields went down, I rushed to the spaceport like everyone else, away from the mess. Thank God I have a ship from the Trade Federation. While the dreadnoughts were doing air defence, I ran to the spaceport and took off. Already on the console gave the command to the ship to get ready, as I see - you lying there, and next to the bucket electrocuted you ...
- "Bucket?"
- Well, an astrodroid. It's similar in shape... Well, I looked at it, I see it's alive. And I took you both with me.
- What, just like that, just like that? - I raised an eyebrow, but all I got in response was a smirk on Julian's middle-European face.
- Yeah, just like that. Especially since it's unlikely Astrodroid was helping anyone else. So you've got boy parents, huh?
- "Ours" as in pilots?
- Doesn't matter. Pilots, technicians.
- Not exactly parents, but yeah, you could say that. - I hesitated. I didn't want to go into any more detail, because I didn't know how Julian felt about the Jedi.
- Well, we'll see. Not everyone managed to escape," the pilot said sadly.
- There's no problem with that, my parents aren't on Neimodia. - I said cautiously.
- Yeah? Then what were you doing there?
- Hmm... let's just say I flew with some family friends on business. But something seems to have gone wrong....
- All right, kid, get well, get plenty of sleep. We're going to a Hutt planet to legalise the ship and then we'll see what we can do with you. Maybe they'll pay for your rescue... - He answered and left the micro-palace.
It's getting weirder and weirder, as one girl used to say... I thought, not paying attention to the Meddroid that flew in. It looked like Erdva was trying to revive me, some of the fleeing pilots saw it and decided to save me. But why would he do that? Just out of solidarity with his colleagues? I don't think so. I don't feel a slave chip in me, and I don't feel anything like it. Do I believe this Han OWLs impersonation? Especially since he didn't win the ship in a card game, he stole it. "Maybe they'll pay," he said, too... though I shouldn't rule out the possibility that the man helped out of the goodness of his heart.
I spent the whole day in the sick bay, after which I got up and, not paying attention to the droid, went out to the general compartment.
Unlike a passenger yacht, the living space on a cargo ship was minimal, so the compartment between the cargo cabins, the bridge, and the crew quarters was like a large vestibule of a carriage.
Figuring that the captain of the trough with the nicotine name "Lucky Star" was probably on his bridge, I went there. On the way I found out interesting details - the trough is rather old and small cargo ship. The equipment in the control room, as well as everything else, was a symbol of the era - large, similar to the control panels of the first computers, desks, two chairs, holomonitors, and, of course, the captain himself.
- Julian?
- Anakin? - He turned in his swivel chair and looked me over.
- I was... wondering where we are now. - I said, remembering that it would be a good idea to contact my people and let them know I was alive. But I didn't want to trust the holonet with such negotiations, and I had no idea how to contact Qui-Gon.
- We're almost there. Wait a minute... yes, in half an hour we'll be out of the hyper and on Tatooine! - he replied, smiling.
- Ahem... what did you say? Tatooine?
- I see you're familiar with that hole. Yes, Tatooine. There's no better place to re-build a ship in my name, especially if you can get a job there. - Said Julian, smiling.
I wonder if he knew where I was from. I don't think so, so it's a coincidence. Especially since Tatooine is a really good place for this kind of criminal activity.
- Julian, you said you brought a droid. You know, the bucket.
- He's in the engine room right now, seeing what's wrong with the sublight engines.
- Okay. Well, I'll be off, then.
- Go on, get a move on, don't get in the way of the work. - He said grumpily, turned back and started to do some manipulations on the remote control. I remembered something on the way out and turned to Julian, or rather the back of his head:
- Julian, this is... let's go to Mos-aisley spaceport. There are the right specialists there, especially since I know someone ...
Julian broke away from the monitor and turned round to look at me carefully.
All I had to do was give him a naive look and smile. The captain hummed in agreement, and turned back to his instruments....
Erdwa was in the engine room. While the engines for flight in normal, not hyperspace, were not working, he was fixing something with a built-in soldering iron. Erdva reacted to my appearance as violently as a droid can react - he gave a joyful trill and turned his whole body and abandoned his work.
- Are you all right?
- Yes, as far as I can tell. What about you, are you okay?
- Ninety-seven per cent efficiency. - Answered the droid in his technical.
- Well, that's great. I'm sorry to break it to you, Erdva, but we're going to Tatooine.
- The dust is adversely affecting the mechanical systems. - He squeaked.
- Well, don't complain. This sand is even more hateful to me, but it looks like the captain's in an illegal situation.
- Your inventory. - Erdva opened one of the lids on the hull and a manipulator with a sword clutched in it slid forward. A lightsaber. I, having completely forgotten about him, immediately checked everything I had on me. My pockets were empty.
- You took my stuff?
- The lightsaber, two of them. Bank Clan chips. Two of them. - The droid beeped.
- That means money and weapons. Thank you - I accepted my sword from the manipulator, then the situation repeated itself and the droid pulled the rest of the items out of its iron body. I don't know what I'd be like without money... but what am I - a couple of thousand credits would be enough to get to Naboo - I could make that in a couple of hours on any planet with water, air, and money.
- Thank you," I checked the functionality of both swords and then hid them in my pockets, money as well - both credit cards with an impressive sum, enough to buy the best yacht in the galaxy.
- Copy that. Can I get back to work? - The droid asked, looking at me with its camera eye.
- Yes, yes, of course. Do you think this ship is worth using, or should I buy Julian a new one as a rescue present?
- Reasonable. The main systems are at twenty-seven per cent capacity.
- Well, then Julian's out of luck. - I turned around, hearing the droid behind me buzzing its caterpillars back to work.
* Justice Corps Headquarters *
Master Yoda was thoughtful and frustrated. The arriving Jedi did not go to the report and immediately went to the medics, but the gist of what had happened needed no explanation - Nuth Gunray had escaped. The cunning peddler had easily evaded the Justice Corps, taking his money and ships with him. Only the mid-level executives were apprehended, but the entire board of directors flew away with Gunray. A small army of droids, along with a bunch of fighters, created only a semblance of defence.
However, even that was enough to summarise the situation - the forces available to the Chancellor were incapable of solving such a problem, only to scare them, and even then only conditionally. Gunray would not be seriously afraid of a mountain of ancient and unfit for combat ships, operated by pilots who had long ago been in their seats and were afraid to the point of trembling in their knees that they had been entrusted with something more serious than collecting "tribute" from smugglers.
"And yet the Justice Corps has something in common with the army. They're all the same - equally fat and without deep thought in their eyes." thought the Jedi Master and asked to be connected to Qui-Gon.
* spaceport *
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were pleased that they had not been forgotten and had sent help promptly. It was rare in the Order, and often Jedi could only rely on themselves, but on Neimodia the situation was very different - there was practically a war going on, or rather a siege of the planet. The arrival of the shuttle with Jedi Plo was greeted with relief.
The shuttle was lowered between the trees and the hatch opened, and the Jedi did not wait long and immediately went inside. There was no one inside but Plo Koon, who turned to Qui-Gon and remarked in satisfaction:
- It's a good thing you didn't go far. Where's your ship?
- It was attacked, they flew away... probably to the nearest spaceport. - Qui-Gon said, breathing fresh filtered air, not Neimodian swamp air.
- Is that so? Where are we going?
- To a spaceport. The nearest one. - Obi-Wan answered in place of his teacher, earning a disgruntled look from Qui-Gon. Plo nodded and returned to the controls, steering the shuttle to the nearest spaceport.
It turned out to be a half-destroyed dreadnought cargo port, with at least fifty ships lying around. Standing in the cockpit, Qui-Gon surveyed from a bird's-eye view the picture of total devastation. Some of the ships were burning, a fire had started in the warehouse, and the droids were putting it out, ignoring the chaos around them.
The normally clean landing site was awash with oil, fuel, and strewn with shipwrecks. Obi-Wan commented on the situation:
- I have a bad feeling about this, Master. A very bad one.
- I agree. It's not a pleasant place to be. - Qui-Gon nodded and continued to look out at the terrain below them. The shuttle controlled by Plo-kun sailed over the ruined spaceport and landed between the wreckage of the ships.
Qui-Gon and his apprentice hurried outside and began searching for the ship. After circling several burned-out hulks, Obi-Wan found the ship he was looking for by the remnants of the red and white, diplomatic hull paint job.
- Master, here! - he shouted, and as Qui-Gon approached, they examined the burned ship. The fuselage showed blaster marks, and the main compartment had burned through so much that the hull metal had melted in places. Well, jet fuel isn't exactly water, so that was to be expected.
- There's no trace of it inside. - Said Qui-Gon, climbing out of the pile of metal.
- Outside, too. Unless... maybe we should try looking for a droid?
- Can you do that?
- Yeah, just a second... - Kenobi reached into his sinus cavity and pulling out a comlink from there, began the procedure. After a minute, he got off his device and reported to Qui-Gon:
- No answer. Maybe we should look in the spaceport building.
- That's not a bad idea. - The teacher agreed and the two Jedi headed for the dilapidated building.
Inside they were met with the same desolation as outside. But there was a place to hide and the Jedi began to scour the building. Obi-Wan picked up the comlink again and found a response from the ship's captain.
- Master, they are in the main hall.
- How do you know?
- The Captain's comlink is answering. - and the two Jedi hurriedly walked, even jogged, to the main hall of the spaceport. The hall was as unpresentable as the rest of the building - broken shop windows, things scattered on the floor, small stones, other details of the building.
But there were people there, the team they were looking for.
- Jedi? - The captain was surprised to see them. He could understand - it had only been a short time, and the Qui-Gon were already in the spaceport. Drawing the right conclusions, the captain asked: - Do you have transport?
- We do, we do, take your time. So, all in place? - Ben Kenobi immediately began to organise. Qui-Gon, who had already noticed Anakin's absence, interrupted the mumbling captain:
- Where is Anakin? Was he with you?
- Er... Master Jedi, he was... lost. We ran out of the ship and ran to the spaceport, but he was gone...must have run off somewhere....
- Don't talk rubbish, it's a swamp out here. - Kenobi got in.
- Well.
- I see. Obi-Wan, we'd better take another look at the ship. - Said Qui-Gon.
- What about us?
- You follow us. And you'll be better off if the boy is found.
* Tatooine, Anakin *
The air, hot, dry, dusty air. How quickly I got used to it, and how quickly I got rid of it... It seems like I've been on Tatooine for nothing, and already I remember Mos Eisley like a bad dream, like it's not where I spent ten years of my life....
Air is just the first thing I got from my old, "past" life. Or rather, a life between past and present.
Unlike the Nubian, Julian's trough landed right in the spaceport, in the hangar car park.
When I smelled Tatooine, I cringed, which didn't escape Julian's notice, and he grinned sceptically.
I'm back, I'm back, and now I have to figure out how to get out of here again, preferably faster and farther away-I'm allergic to this planet.
- Come on, why are you standing up? - I said, and set an example for Julian by going downstairs. There were droids and a few human technicians working in the hangar. They accepted the parking fee from Julian and left, while I led the ship's captain around Mos Eisley.
- Hey, kid, I can see you're getting your bearings around here," he said as he caught up with me.
- I've got some. You need to re-register the ship?
- Yeah, in my name. Or just change the plates. - he nodded, walking beside me. The streets of Tatooine were like some ancient Persian state-the cramped, clay houses, the advertising signs spoiling everything-but this was Tatooine, nothing was normal.
- Then I know a Thodarian. He won't do it himself, but he knows everyone and everything. Let's go. - I turned at the crossroads and walked straight to Watto's shop. There's no one else I can turn to-there's Jabba here who knows me as Anakin Skywalker, as the Anakin Skywalker who won the Rebellion and the classic, and as the thief whose nickname has not yet been removed from the streets.
Of course, it would be rational to keep a low profile - what if Jabba somehow connected me to the mysterious thief? After I'd flown out of here, the thefts had miraculously stopped.
Julian followed me, looking around at the inhabitants of the neighbourhood. I saw the discreet sign of a familiar secondhand shop ahead, and sighed heavily.
It's so hot on Tatooine! It was unbelievable that I was used to this heat-it seemed impossible to get used to it now. The Tatu had just appeared in the sky in twos, so it was a siesta, but none of the passersby cared - they just wrapped themselves more tightly in cloth to escape the radiation. Julian was good - he was breathing hard and sweating, flushed, so it was obvious to the naked eye that he needed some shade and coolness. He could still think of something to do with shade, but he couldn't find coolness - air conditioners were not in honour here, it was too easy to catch a cold.
- We'll be right there. - I encouraged my companion and went inside the shop of Watto.
Everything was the same as it had been a year or five years ago: piles of junk, old droids standing against the walls, a counter, and the shopkeeper himself sleeping behind the counter.
After looking around the shop with premature nostalgia, I turned to Julian:
- Wait a while.
- All right, lad. I hope you know what you're doing. - With doubt in his voice, the ship's captain said. Just like Jack Sparrow...though no, no charisma.
I addressed Watto in Thodarian, which, thank the Force, I have not yet forgotten:
- Watto! You have a visitor.
- Anakin, who is it? - Watto grumbled, but opened his eyes. - Anakin? - He asked again.
- No, Jabba himself. - I snickered.
- Anakin! - Watto seemed pleased to see me, and immediately took off, looking me over.
- Thank you, Watto. I was passing through Coruscant, so I bought some clothes. How's your trade going?
- I don't know what's going on. - Since you left, it's gotten worse. The droids can't even fix old stuff. I miss the time when I used to sell the droids you were fixing. - The Toydarian shook his head.
- Why don't you buy slaves with the right skills? Or is it greed? - I asked.
- Don't tell me what to do. - He shook his head disapprovingly. Julian interjected rudely into the conversation:
- Anakin, what are you talking about?
- Anakin: Oh, just some hard luck.
- Who's that with you? - Watto turned his attention to Julian.
- This is pilot Julian. He saved my life, so I owe him one.
- You owe him? Don't you have any money? - Watteau wondered. Makes sense, considering I recently won a substantial sum in a race.
- I have money. But this is different. You see, Watto, Julian used to work for the Trade Federation... and now we need to turn the ship over to him and find a job for an aspiring 'free trader'.
- I mean smuggler," the merchant nodded, "well, I think I can help your friend. Not for free of course...
- A thousand credits. - I said, getting ready to bargain. But, as it turned out, for nothing. Watto was about to get indignant, but he took pity:
- For your sake, Skywalker. Show me where this ship of yours is. - Watto flew out from behind the counter and grabbed the "closed" sign.
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