Chapter Text
It had been nineteen years since the Emperor had first ordered most of the Jedi Order to be wiped out, and if Anna Skywalker was told that she was going to be a Jedi, she would have assumed that the person in question was joking.
When the droids showed up at the Lars homestead, Anna was already in a bad mood. A more gloomy mood than anything else, if she was to be perfectly honest.
Biggs had left. She didn’t know if it was the fact he was going to join the Rebellion, being able to get off Tatooine when she wasn’t really able to, when she had duties on the farm to look after, or if it was the fact that her friend was leaving (and Biggs was her friend. A good friend, probably her only friend in just about all of this, if she was to be perfectly honest with herself. The others just seemed to see her as strange), but either way, Anna couldn’t help but feel a sort of emptiness she couldn’t put a name to.
Jealousy? Grief?
”Are you all right, Anna?” Aunt Beru said, softly.
Aunt Beru had taken her in when Anna was only a baby. There were times when Anna, though she loved her adoptive parents (even if Uncle Owen was a bit gruff. Emotionally constipated, she had once said to Biggs), wondered where she came from. Her uncle didn’t like to talk about it. Not really. He’d said that Anakin Skywalker, for whom Anna was named, was a navigator on a spice freighter.
Whoever he was, whoever her mother was (Owen had said that she was a politician, which made Anna wonder how a politician and a spice freighter pilot would get together), Anna wished she could have known them. But Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru were good people. Anna knew that much.
“Just Biggs,” Anna said. “He left for the Rebellion.” She sighed. “I’m scared that I won’t see him again.”
”Oh, sweetheart,” Beru said. She hugged Anna, which Anna took comfort in. Something about the smell of the Lars homestead on her...it was enough to make Anna feel strangely peaceful. “You’ll see him again. I know it. Come in — I’ll make some tea."
***
Uncle Owen, at least, gave her time to rest and recuperate inside. Even talking with her aunt, Anna said, “I just wish that...I mean, I know you and Uncle Owen need all the help you can get, but...”
Aunt Beru placed a hand on her shoulder. “Your uncle loves you,” she said. “He’s just...frightened for you. Sees too much of your mother in you, and what that might mean.”
Anna couldn’t say, exactly. After all, she’d only had physical descriptions of her parents. Her father had had blond hair, more dark blond than anything. That was where Anna got her hair color. And she had her mother’s brown eyes. She could only assume it was a case of a combination of both just to come out in the middle.
“Did my mother ever...” she began.
“I’m sure that as fearless as your mother was, she had her challenges too,” Beru said.
“Am I like her?”
”You’re...your own person,” Beru said. Anna had a feeling that she was trying to be tactful.
It was there that Uncle Owen came in, wiping his brow and looking like he could use a painkiller. "Damn Jawas,” Owen muttered. “One of the droids they tried to sell me had a bad motivator. Swear to the galaxy...”
”Which one?” Anna said.
“Red one,” Owen said. Then, more sympathetic, “Heard you were upset about that Darklighter kid. Pity; he was a nice boy.”
”Yeah.”
"Look,” Owen said, “As bad as things are, I’m just hoping these two keep you company around the farm.”
Anna turned around, only to see a golden protocol droid and a blue-and-white R2 unit.
“Pretty good ones,” Owen said. “The protocol droid can speak Bocce, if you believe it or not.”
”Is that so?” Anna looked over the droids. “Looks like you boys have seen a lot of action. Better get you cleaned up.”
***
”Thank the maker!” the golden protocol droid said. “That oil bath feels so good...”
Even as he submerged in it, Anna couldn’t help but smile a bit, even scrubbing at the score marks on the R2 unit. She couldn’t say she minded, if she was to be perfectly honest. There was something therapeutic about fixing things. At least, if she was stuck on this rock, she might as well do some good.
“Thought you’d like it,” she said. Then, "I’m actually curious — how did you two get here? That doesn’t look like, say, the Sand People beat you up.”
”Well,” said the protocol droid. “I doubt I could sum it up well. I am only an interpreter, and not very good at telling stories.”
”You’re being harsh on yourself.”
”Well,” said the protocol droid, “You’re very kind, Mistress...”
”Anna. Just call me Anna,” Anna said. "I’m not really a mistress. I’m nobody."
At least, that was how she felt quite a bit of the time. Except for Biggs, the others seemed to tolerate her at best. Camie, especially, couldn’t stand her. Well, Camie was insufferable anyway...
"And I am See-Threepio,” said the protocol droid, “And this is my counterpart, Artoo-Detoo. You could say that we were long time companions.”
”I can see that,” Anna said. Then, “I think something’s stuck here. In Artoo’s drive...”
The last thing she expected to see was a hologram flickering in and out, requesting help from an Obi-Wan Kenobi, before vanishing.