Chapter Text
Tatooine’s heat was as unforgiving and cruel as the slave masters that called it home. Shmi worked with her baby clasped to her chest, her own body protecting him from the sun.
Ani had been a gift from the force itself. No one believed her, of course, but his conception was a complete mystery to her. Her boy was special.
So it wasn’t a surprise when she tripped over a lightsaber. The esteemed Jedi weapon had stuck out of the sand, gleaming proudly and practically staring her down with its shine. Somewhere inside her, Shmi mustered the courage to flick it on, knowing no one was in sight.
The blade glowed red. She’d never heard of the Jedi using red sabers, but then again, she’d never met one in person. She tucked the weapon beneath her skirts, before kissing the top of her baby’s head.
One day, Ani would do great things. She was sure of it, and the force only continued to prove it to her.
—
19 years later
It was all dust and smoke. It gathered in his lungs and coated his throat and mouth, covering every inch of him, inside and outside, in suffocating soot. All his life had been dominated by this substance, it’s grittiness perpetually stuck underneath his fingernails and between his teeth, but for the first time, it was laced with a feeling other than disgust and exhaustion. In the middle of the chaos, surrounded by flames and the destruction of the life he once knew, Anakin Skywalker felt free.
Jabba’s head lie at his feet, the slimy creature even more disgusting now covered in the spit of his peers who had taken it upon themselves to disgrace the corpse even further. Anakin had felt no need there, he’d been the one to slay the beast himself, and that was honor enough to make him feel more powerful than his mother would even approve of.
Still, the saliva he’d refused to waste on the creature gathered in his mouth as he watched chaos around him. Anakin liked peace, and love, and hope, but seeing slave masters fall in such a grizzly way brought him a pleasure beyond all those things. His grin had been stuck since he’d beheaded the first Hutt. It was him who’d wiped out most of the family, really, wielding his blazing weapon. Some called it perverse for him to be using a lightsaber without being a Jedi, but Anakin only scoffed. His mother had gifted it to him, never explaining its origin, but he knew one thing for certain; it belonged in his hands, Jedi or not.
“Anakin!” Kitster called from a corner of Jabba’s great sitting room. All around him people were hauling out whatever goods they could find, but he had been hacking at the chains of a few hyenas. “Could you help me with this?”
Anakin approached quickly, but hesitated with his saber. The wild hyenas he’d seen had been ferocious, and he’d been advised by his mother to stay away from any that weren’t Kitster’s own trained pet. These creatures hardly looked trained, but they also looked hurt. One seemed to lack the energy to stand, while the other two limped and licked at Kitster’s hand. All three were much too skinny to be healthy.
Anakin flicked on the red beam and cut away the chains despite his worries, and almost instantly earned a hyena licking at his face.
“They like you,” Kitster laughed as Anakin was attacked with affection by the happy animals. Anakin had always been better with machines than he was with real living things, that was always more of his best friend’s area of expertise.
“You better get home,” Anakin said when he was finally able to push the hyenas off of him. “You have these guys and about three dozen over animals to nurse back to health.”
Kitster gave him a lopsided smile and a mocking salute. “Whatever you say, General Skywalker.”
With that, his friend headed out, the hyenas following close behind. Anakin sighed to himself, he hoped the nickname wouldn’t stick.
—
“Ani, finally,” Shmi gathered her son into her arms as soon as he walked through the door. Holding him had become more of a challenge since he had shot up to be almost a full foot taller than her, but she had made it work. A mother couldn’t not hold her son. “I was worried sick.”
“You don’t need to be,” Anakin smiled softly, shaking his shaggy blonde hair of the dust and sand that had collected in it. “I can take care of myself, I’m nineteen.”
“A nineteen year old shouldn’t be fighting a war.” Shmi had been clear since the beginning that she was opposed to Anakin’s plans. Of course, what he had done had been more than noble, but the risk of it all was far too great. She knew he was special, destined for greatness, but should such a young boy be faced with so much responsibility?
“It was hardly a war,” He laughed, though stopped quickly as he realized his mother found no humor in it. “It’s over now, anyways.”
“I doubt that,” Shmi sighed, breaking their hug and returning to the bantha stew that was brewing in the kitchen.
“Mom, trust me,” Anakin whined as he followed her into the kitchen. He may be an adult, but he tended to have the tone of a child, especially around her. “Give me two weeks, and I’ll find a way out of this planet. They can figure out the rest on their own.”
“That’s what you said three years ago, when you first took out the chips.” After taking out his mother’s and his own slave chip, Anakin had slowly gone through every slave in their city and done the same. He had wanted to give them the device and allow them to do it themselves, but he’d been convinced to stay. When they were all free, he’d again been convinced to lead an uprising. Now, with a successful uprising behind them and the entirety of Mos Espa loudly celebrating Anakin’s defeat of Jabba outside, Shmi couldn’t see them leaving Tatooine any time soon.
It wasn’t as if Shmi wasn’t proud of her son. Really, she was beyond proud. But a feeling had always itched at her, the feeling that Anakin was meant for more. Over his teenage years, that idea had only been confirmed. No normal teenager could single-handedly orchestrate the take down of the largest crime lord in the galaxy.
“Master Ani!” Threepio came waddling out from a back room, cheerfully breaking the silence. “You’ve returned! I’m so happy to see you. You see, I’ve been worried about my circuits and I do think I’m in desperate need of a check up. Of course-“
“Alright, Threepio,” Anakin got up from the uncomfortable stone chair to follow the droid into the backrooms. Maybe repairing him would help his mood.
—
Padmé watched as several of her peers filed into the senate rotunda one by one, all followed by Chancellor Palpatine himself. They’d been late, of course, as they always were. The senate had been forced to adjust to waiting for the chancellor the past few years.
To be fair to them, the meeting was only announced an hour ago. Padmé had been in her office, and arrived early along with Bail and Mon, early enough to hear the whispers of what the meeting could possibly entail.
Apparently, republic authorities had reported that Tatooine was under new governing. The idea made Padmé practically bounce with excitement. The Hutt control on the planet had made it a hotspot for crime and slavery, two things she’d been attempting to dismantle durning her time as a senator.
The rotunda buzzed with conversation as Palpatine boarded his personal pod. Padmé’s eyes stayed trained on the chancellor, waiting for him to speak. Finally, he coughed into his mic, bringing all attention to him.
“As you may of heard,” He began, his old, croaking voice sounding very disinterested in the topic at hand, “Tatooine has had a change of leadership.”
There were whispers, both excited and disappointed, running through the building. It was common knowledge that some less respected members of the senate had made deals with the Hutts, and no doubt were unhappy to hear of their downfall.
“That can’t be true! They spread their time between planets, don’t they? What about Nal Hutta?” The Senator from Scipio, Rush Clovis, interrupted loudly, his pod emerging from the crowd.
The chancellor gave him a glare. The two were politically aligned, yes, but Palpatine was not a patient man when it came to men like Rush. Padmé couldn’t even blame the distaste.
“This was a planned takedown, Senator,” Palpatine clarified. “Though we aren’t sure of the specifics, we can be sure the group who did it is very well organized and strong. It’s no doubt they will elect their own new leaders in a matter of days.”
Padmé pressed a button on her control panel that would take her pod out of its parked place. The chancellor motioned for her to speak.
“I’d like to travel to Tatooine,” She suggested, triggering a wave of whispers through the building. “To asses the situation and work on bringing a leader in for negotiations. I know we would all love Tatooine in the republic.”
Many voices hummed in agreement. Padmé was barely interested in the main exports of Tatooine, dilarium oil and silicax oxalate, but instead one she wished to stop; slavery. She knew though, unfortunately, that many of her fellow senators had gone directly against the republics anti-slavery laws and would be looking to gain cheap slaves from the planets current turmoil. That, she thought, would just be something she’d have to deal with.
Palpatine seemed to consider it, but not for very long at all before he answered her. “I’m afraid I can’t allow that, Senator,” The chancellor declared as he clicked a buzzer that signaled the end of conversation on the matter. Padmé didn’t even have enough time to allow the shock to truly paint her face. “We can retouch this topic at a later date. Now on to more pressing matters..”