Chapter Text
The Outer Rim of the galaxy was named so because of how far it was from the centre of the galaxy. The distance from the Republic made it a breeding ground for crime and slavery. Overall, was not known as a very nice place to live: wars were constant, and the threat of invasion from warrior proud races was high.
Tatooine laid in the Outer Rim, a desolate planet, featuring nothing but sand, unbearable heat and one city of note, a dangerous one at that. Anchorage was the archetypal Outer Rim city: rife with poverty, a centre of the slave trade and, worse still, run by the Hutts, a race of notorious gangsters. It was certainly not first in line as the premium destination to raise a family.
Yet Armin's ancestors had decided centuries ago to place their stake there, settling in the middle of nowhere, hours away from Anchorage.
It could be worse, Armin mused as he pulled his head wrappings closer to his eyes to shield them from the sun. But not much worse. They could have been placed on the other side of the planet. He knew there were farmers living in the most barren areas of the planet, people whom had never even seen Anchorage, or crowds larger than fifty people. Anchorage was a hole, but it had people and the biggest space port in the system.
The only contact the isolated farmers had was that of the Sand People, an ancient race that were there when humans had arrived, and were probably going to remain until long after the humans had given up on the sand and heat and left. Unfortunately for them, the Sand People were often hostile.
Armin's family were some of the first human settlers on Tatooine. They arrived to find tribes of Sand People, peaceful at first but quickly turning violent when the humans assembled their drilling machines and mining equipment. Typical of humans, the settlers were convinced that a barren rock like Tatooine held hidden treasures beneath the dunes. Anchorage was established, and the entire planet was combed for minerals that, if they existed, eluded the mining companies. After several centuries and catastrophic losses in terms of both finances and human life, the planet was largely abandoned. Several families remained, however, including Armin's ancestors who saw the potential of an outpost in the Outer Rim, and a steady supply of water was one of the things desperately needed on the desert planet.
Moisture farming was largely profitable simply because of the necessity. It was one of the needs of many of the different alien species in the galaxy, and so there was always business. Providing a steady stream of water to the only settlement on the planet was a career that could provide for a family for generations.
Provide it did, but it was not without its dangers. The remote locations required for water farming meant that attacks from Sand People were a very real reality. Many families were wiped out in a single raid. The Arlert family had entered into a pact with the nearby Sand People tribes soon after settling. The Arlert family would provide them with all the water they needed, whilst the Sand People would not only abstain from attacking the family, but they would help with protecting them from other predators of the planet.
As such, Armin`s family had a comfortable relationship with the local tribes, something which other water farmers resented. Constant battles, credits spent on security for their farms and the threat of a raid was a daily part of life as a water farmer that the Arlert family simply didn`t have to think about. A consequence of this is that they found themselves rather isolated from their compatriots.
As a result of this isolation, the only company Armin had as a child was that of his parents and, very rarely, that of the children of the Sand People, though that was not an acquaintanceship as much as curiosity and mutual respect.
It was a lonely existence, and he spent most of his days helping on his parents’ farm, cleaning, and repairing the worker droids when he grew old enough. He loved his family, but the loneliness he felt was a constant ache that couldn't be wished away. The droids were boring, and he had no one to play with. He took solace in the holograms his parents bought for him, projecting stories of mighty heroes and epic battles in places that seemed so very far away. The galaxy seemed so vast and, as he grew older, he began to resent the fact that his destiny was to be a farmer when there was so much more for him out there, beyond the ball of dust.
Their biannual visits to Anchorage were the saving grace to the monotony. Anchorage was large, Anchorage was exciting but, most importantly, Anchorage had people. People from all over the galaxy could be found there and, despite his mother's insistence that it was too dangerous for little blonde human boys to be wandering the markets unsupervised, that's just what Armin did as soon as they entered the gates.
It was that day when, at the age of six, Armin first saw the Jedi. Hours spent watching holovids and stories of their heroism did not prepare him for the moment. It was odd, he thought, that they looked so harmless and, well… normal. He had done his usual task of ditching his mom and escaping into the market, when he ran straight into one.
Eyes wide, he took in the sight of the very tall stranger in front of him, dressed in unassuming robes of brown, simple boots of cloth and face covered with a hood pulled low. The stranger looked down at the child who had just run into him, knelt to the boy's eye level, and pulled back his hood, revealing a young man with blonde hair, blue eyes and a strong jawline. The man smiled, softening his harsh features, and Armin smiled nervously back, forgetting that the man could not see it under his traditional wrappings and hood.
“Hello,” the man said kindly. “What`s your name?” he asked.
“Armin,” he replied, remembering his manners. He had practiced for this moment, he knew how to make people like him.
“Armin, it`s nice to meet you.” The man said, pleasantly. Despite the throngs of people around them, he seemed comfortable holding a crouched conversation with a six year old in the middle of a crowded market.
He held out his hand, and Armin shook it with confidence as his parents had taught him.
“What`s your name?” Armin asked, suddenly panicking as he said it. Was it rude to ask for an adult`s name?
“I`m Erwin,” the man replied, and Armin was relieved to see amusement twinkling in his eyes. “Tell me, Armin, where are your parents?” he asked, and Armin felt a rush of guilt. He looked at the floor. “Shopping`s boring,” he muttered, and was surprised to hear Erwin chuckle.
“Well, why don`t we look for her together?” he asked Armin. He must`ve caught the reluctance in his eyes. “She`s probably very worried about you,” he added, and Armin felt crushed with guilt once more. “Okay,” he said, looking up. Erwin smiled, turned his head, and called someone over.
A young Twi`lek girl approached, only a few years older than Armin. She was dressed in the same style as Erwin.
“This is Mikasa, my apprentice,” he introduced. Armin`s eyes widened, recognizing the title. “Are you a Jedi?” he asked. Mikasa answered. “I`m not one, yet,” she pointed at Erwin, “but he is,” she declared.
Armin turned his eyes back to Erwin. “Can I be a Jedi?” he begged. “Farming`s boring.”
“Being a Jedi is pretty boring, too,” Mikasa muttered. Erwin rolled his eyes at Mikasa playfully, and Armin was starkly reminded of his relationship with his own parents.
“Please,” he said again, trying to get the pair back on topic. This was his chance, he just knew it.
Erwin smiled kindly, and Armin knew what the answer would be. “Being a Jedi isn`t a life for everybody,” he explained, his voice gentle. Armin frowned. “What do you mean?” he asked.
His mother chose that moment to find them. She gasped when she saw Armin, scooping him up in her arms and scolding him. Mikasa stared up at him stoically, her face hiding any thought or feeling. Erwin stood up from his crouch, standing nearly a head taller than Armin`s mother.
“Thank you for keeping him safe, sir Jedi,” she gushed, holding Armin close. His face was squashed against her shoulder and he felt hot and sticky from the contact. “Mom,” he whined, wiggling. She softened her grip when she realised he wasn`t going to try to leap from her arms.
“Armin, if I let you go will you run off and try to join the Jedi?” she asked him, a smile in her voice.
He relented. “No, Mommy. I love you.” He turned his face to look back to Erwin.
“The Jedi aren`t for me,” he told Erwin seriously. “That`s fine,” he said, inclining his head. He addressed Armin`s mother. “You have a very bright boy.”
“I know,” she said, shifting so Armin could see Erwin easily.
“It was nice meeting you, Armin,” Erwin said, giving him a wave goodbye. Armin waved back, suddenly feeling shy in his mother's arms. “Bye,” he said, and buried his head in his mother's shoulder, enjoying the comfort despite the heat.
He didn`t see the flash of pain on Apprentice Mikasa`s face she said goodbye to the pair, turning around to follow Erwin, disappearing into the crowd as if they had never existed.
It had been a minor event, a blip in his life. He did not become a Jedi, and the layers of childhood innocence were peeled back to reveal a cynical pre-teen who believed the only thing he was destined for was repairing broken droids and monitoring water metres, everything he did was tainted with bitterness. The only interest in his life was shooting practice, where he would take his grandfather's old blaster and shoot at cans and old droid parts that were beyond repair. It was purely a distraction; had no interest in hunting, and the Sand People took care of any dangerous predators in the area. He supposed there was some satisfaction in shooting a difficult target, but the euphoria was limited and lasted for as long as it took to set up the next target.
He lived for the thought of swoop racing. Swoop racing was fast, dangerous and a relatively new sport. Tatooine was not yet a popular swoop destination, but a Hutt in Anchorage seemed determined to turn Tatooine into a premier swoop racing course, the immense dunes being perfect for racing.
Armin formulated a plan to build a bike, find sponsorship and enter as many tournaments as he could, even if they were all on planet. He was a realist, he knew it was highly unlikely he could win enough money to get himself off the most boring rock in the galaxy, and even if he could he was bound to the planet by the fact that he was the only heir to the moisture farm.
Still, Armin liked to fall asleep to dreams of winning a vast sum of money, wealth that could buy him passage to any planet he wanted in the galaxy. Pretty Naboo, with its massive lakes and beautiful fields, Alderaan, the cultural heart of the galaxy, Coruscant, the planet that was covered by a single city, the centre of human development, the galaxy and home to the Jedi Order.
It was a pretty dream, but nothing more. He accepted that he would stay on this red planet forever, drowning in sand, shades of brown and red, burning beneath the gaze of the Twin Suns.
He flicked the water gauge with his fingers, bored. It was the middle of the day, and he'd been there for hours. His father would arrive soon, and Armin hoped he would bring his holovids to help pass the time. He thought of the weekend, they would be taking one of their trips to Anchorage for supplies. He could barely wait, he longed for something to look at other than the desert. The Twin Suns burnt mercilessly, as they did each day, and Armin pulled his hood lower on his face to protect his sensitive eyes. He was dressed in full traditional human desert garb: Loose robes, loose pants, wrappings around his feet, lower legs and hands. He wore a hood, which protected his face from the worst of the sun, his face hidden by wrappings across the lower half of his face, ending just under his eyes.
His clothes were the colour of sand, light browns and deep reds, because apparently there wasn't enough of those colours on this planet. He kicked the sand irritably, dust catching the wind and swirling around him like a tiny sandstorm.
He blinked, pulling his hood back slightly and squinting at the sky. The Suns hung low in the sky, his father was later than he thought. Where was he?
Hours past, and Armin began to feel himself panicking. He considered just leaving in his landspeeder and going to look for him, but he couldn`t leave valuable equipment and droids unsupervised in the open desert. He squinted into the distance, praying his father would appear on the horizon, laughing sheepishly about getting lost and offering to buy Armin something in Anchorage that weekend to make up for abandoning him in the desert all day.
It was around sunset when Armin made the decision to pack up what he could and make his way home. He was trying to convince a particularly stubborn droid to get onto the landspeeder (quietly thinking it was time to give it a memory wipe) when he saw it. A figure in the distance, flying across the sand at great speed towards him. He felt his stomach drop, and knew that it wasn`t his father. His father would never travel at that speed. It was definitely not a Sand Person, either. They didn`t travel alone.
Whatever it was, it seemed to have noticed him and made a beeline towards him. He glanced at his speeder filled with grumbling droids and parts of equipment, and quickly realised running would be futile. The odds were it was hostile, they were too far into Sand People territory for it to be a friendly force. He swore, and pulled out his old blaster. He doubted he could do any serious damage with the thing, but maybe he could buy himself some time…
He pressed the scope to his eye, focusing on his target which was approaching steadily. He placed his finger on the trigger, but didn`t shoot. On the speeder was a teenage boy, not much older than him. That was a surprise, and Armin found his curiosity rise. Maybe the boy had gotten lost, or needed help. He elected to wait, lowering the blaster but keeping his finger on the trigger, just in case.
The speeder slowed down as it approached, and its owner parked it close by.
“Hello?” Armin called, his voice sounding as confident as he felt.
The boy waved, jumped off the speeder and walked over. He wasn`t much taller than Armin, and around the same age. He wore heavy robes that were highly impractical for the desert, and they were covered in sand, a fact that seemed to frustrate the boy. His skin was dark with tan, his hair a dark chestnut, his bright green eyes contrasting sharply with the rest of his features. He pulled off his hood to reveal a short braid. Armin`s heart leapt as he recognized it. The boy was a Padawan.
“What`s a Padawan doing all the way out here?” he asked cautiously, grateful for his low hood and face wraps, feeling like they gave him an added level of security.
The Padawan frowned.
“Sorry, I`m not used to your accent. Are you a farmer?” he asked.
Armin felt a flash of irritation. He nodded in lieu of speaking. The Padawan grinned.
“You will answer my questions,” he said with confidence, waving his hand.
Armin raised an eyebrow. “Um, I`d first like to know what a Padawan is doing out here on his own.”
The Padawan in question frowned and muttered something under his breath. He repeated his question, adding more force to his voice.
Armin sighed, his irritation growing. “Look, I don`t care if you`re part of some order that can use magic or whatever, could you please just answer my question?”
“It`s not magic, it`s the Force,” the Padawan retorted.
“The Force, then” Armin corrected himself.
A distant boom sounded. Eren looked back in the direction of the sound nervously.
“Shit, I don`t have time for this,” he muttered, then looked back at Armin.
“Hi, I`m Eren,” he gave a small wave by ways of saying “hello”, “Clearly, you know I`m a Padawan. I`m from the Order`s training facility on Dantooine. I`m a part of a force that was tasked with trying to prevent the Mandalorians from taking over this,” he gestured behind him at the setting Suns, “system. We failed.” He said bluntly. Armin blinked at him. “Wait, what do you mean, you failed?” he asked, horror gripping his throat as he thought about his father who never arrived.
“We failed,” Eren repeated. “When we arrived, they shot us down. Anchorage was crawling with troops and all the surrounding farms were taken over. Who knows what happened to the farmers. I got separated from my master and I`ve been traversing this stupid desert all day. I need to get back to him. Can you help me?”
Armin felt as though his wits had left him. He stared blankly at the Padawan.
A moment passed.
“Oi,” Eren waved his hand in front of Armin`s face. “We don`t have time for this. I need you to concentrate. Do you know the area?”
Armin blinked, then nodded, not trusting his voice.
Eren smiled, pleased. “Great. Do you know anyone who could help me get to a ship?”
Armin thought. “No,” he said.
Eren smacked himself on his forehead. “Wonderful,” he muttered.
“But,” Armin said, his mind finally working again, “if you can take me to my family`s farm so I can warn them, I can get you to your master. He`d be outside the city, no? Probably with one of the outlying farms…” he surmised, thinking out loud.
Eren looked at him curiously. Armin shifted uncomfortably under the stare, feeling like Eren was pulling him apart with his eyes alone. He reminded himself that Eren could only see a hooded boy, even his eyes weren`t in view.
“What`s your name?” Eren asked.
“Armin,”
“Armin what?”
“Armin Arlert,” he replied.
Eren stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you Armin,” he said. Armin was struck with a sense of déjà vu as he shook hands with the second Jedi he had met.
Eren nodded towards his speeder. “Hop on,” he ordered, pulling his hood back up. Armin looked at the land speeder filled with droids and equipment, then decided they were probably safer in the middle of the desert than in a farm, which was apparently now a target.
“Which way are we going?” Eren asked. Armin pointed in the direction of the Sand People enclave, away from the setting Suns. “Drive away from the Suns,” he clarified.
The Padawan nodded in understanding.
He sat on the speeder behind Eren, and tightly held onto his waist as they sped off.
“Who are the Mandalorians?” Armin shouted into Eren`s closest ear.
He took a moment to answer. Armin almost thought he didn`t understand again, when Eren replied. “I`ll explain later,” leaving Armin in the dark.
They sped away from the Suns for a while, until they reached Armin`s farm. Smoke was rising from it, and Armin already knew before they had even reached his childhood home.
“Shit,” Eren muttered as he stopped the speeder shortly before the farm. There were troops stationed outside, dressed in full body armour that hid their faces. Armin leaned over the side of the speeder, pulled down his lower face wrappings and vomited. Eren waited, eyes fixed at the sight of Armin`s ruined childhood home.
“I have to…” Armin muttered, stumbling off the side of the speeder and onto his knees. “I have to help them,” he muttered, tears pouring down his face as he sat uselessly in the desert sand, the last of the day`s heat pouring onto him, cruel and merciless. Armin glanced up at the Padawan on the speeder. “You… you can help them, right? Jedi… Jedi can do anything.”
He watched as the Padawan with vivid green eyes got off his speeder and crouched next to him. His answer was clear enough when he put his hand on the desert boy`s back and rubbed reassuring circles, with a whispered and gentle “I`m sorry.”
A moment passed. “My Master`s here,” he said, softly. “You were right.” Armin raised his head to look at Eren. “Huh?”
“I can sense his presence,” Eren explained. His explanation didn`t really mean anything to Armin. He wiped his mouth and lifted his lower face wrappings over his nose.
“Then let`s go to him,” he muttered. He could feel shock slowly take over his body, could feel his emotions shutting down one by one. He hated it. He didn`t want to feel lifeless.
If Eren noticed anything, he didn`t say. They made their way around the farm, barely crossing the outskirts to avoid detection. Armin found himself in the cave he had played in as a child. He didn`t allow himself to hope his family was with the Jedi, and wasn`t surprised to see they weren`t.
He was surprised, however, to come face to face with the same Jedi Knight he had met as a child, along with the Twi`lek apprentice, Mikasa, who was wearing the same Padawan robes as Eren..
“Eren!” the Jedi exclaimed, clearly surprised that Eren had just waltzed into their hiding place. Eren smiled grimly at his teacher. Erwin nodded at Armin. “Who is this?”
Eren glanced at Armin, who stared at the floor.
“A farmer`s child,” Eren explained. Armin bristled. “I`m the same age as you,” he mumbled. Eren elected to ignore him, and pointed to the entrance of the cave. “He led me here. His family is dead and his home is gone.”
“I see,” Erwin glanced at Armin, whose eyes darted back to the floor. He didn`t enjoy being scrutinized.
“What`s your name?”
Armin decided he was sick of this song and dance. He raised his head. “I`m Armin Arlert, I`m eleven years old, and we`ve met before,” he stared at Erwin, despite knowing there was no possible way Erwin could have recognized him beneath the layers of clothing.
Much to his surprise, Erwin smiled. “I thought so. Are you feeling okay?” Armin was surprised by the question. “I`ll live,” he said dully. He brushed his fingers over his hand wrappings. His mother had taught him how to use them.
He looked back up at Erwin. “How are we going to get out of here?” he asked. The Jedi Master`s face turned serious, and looked to the entrance of the cave. “The troops don`t know we`re on planet,” he began. Armin blinked. “Excuse me?” he asked blankly.
“We were the only ones who came. Our role was as messengers, not fighters. The Republic were going to evacuate the planet rather than send forces.”
“Wait,” Armin said, his head reeling. “Why?”
A horrifying sound filled the air. It was faint, as if coming from a great distance, but shook Armin to the bone.
“We need to leave, now.” Erwin muttered. “What was that?” Armin asked the Jedi. Mikasa and Eren shot nervous glances at each other, but neither replied. They followed Erwin out of the cave, giving Armin no choice but to follow.
Harsh cries filled the air, this time familiar to Armin, unnerving the other three. “Okay, what was that?” Eren asked.
“Sand People,” Armin replied. He looked at Erwin. “We`re going to Anchorage?”
“I have a friend who can help us,” Erwin replied.
Armin frowned. “What happened to the ship you came in?” he asked. Erwin gave a short laugh. “It got shot out of the sky while we were trying to land. We haven’t even been to Anchorage yet, but somehow I don’t think it`ll make much difference. We need to make escape a priority.”
Eren frowned, his eyes burning in anger. Armin wondered why the boy was so angry, when Jedi were known for being peaceful and tranquil.
They got back onto the speeders, heading towards the city.
Anchorage was burning. Flames could be seen from a great distance as they travelled closer to the settlement. Fire burnt like comets through the sky. “Master, are those the basilisk war droids?” Eren yelled over the wind. Erwin nodded in affirmation.
Anchorage was in ruins. The streets were in chaos, and people were crawling over each other in an attempt to escape the fires.
Erwin grabbed Armin by the scruff of his shirt as they leapt from the speeders, landing in a side alley. Eren and Mikasa followed, and they immediately set to a run, heading towards the space port.
Once they reached their destination, rather than a ship, Erwin led them to the back of the offices. The Padawans seemed unsurprised at this.
In the office was a short man around the same height as Armin. He was dressed head to toe in black, rough clothing that indicated poverty, and had two blasters sitting on his hips. The man caught sight of Erwin, marched up to him and punched him in the face. “What the fuck is this shit, Erwin, you said they were here to scout! If it weren`t for my contacts, we`d all be dead! I did not come back to this shithole to die!” he shouted. He caught sight of Armin. “Who the fuck is the desert brat?”
Erwin wiped his lip, which was spouting blood. “I need a favour, Levi,” he said calmly.
The man called Levi gave a harsh laugh. “I`m already killing myself over this for you. Do you understand that?” he spat.
Erwin ignored him and jerked his head towards Armin. “Take the kid with you.”
Armin blinked.
“What?” he asked flatly, while Eren rolled his eyes. Mikasa punched him in the arm, and he fell still, rubbing his arm.
“Um, no offense, but…” Armin began, but Levi interrupted him.
“I can`t, why don`t you accept him into your stupid cult…”
“He`s too old, and you know that, Levi. He`ll be of benefit, I promise.”
A crash sounded outside. “Fuck you,” Levi spat, walking forward and grabbing a yelping Armin by the arm, pulling him forward.
“The ship is in Bay 4. I`ve already sent the codes. This is your last chance, Erwin. I won`t be seeing you again.” Erwin nodded in understanding, and gestured to the Padawans to leave the room. They left without a backwards glance. When Erwin reached the door, he paused and looked back. “May the Force be with you,” he said. Armin didn`t know who he was addressing.
“Fuck you,” Levi repeated, and Armin was certain a shadow of a smile crossed Erwin`s face before he turned and walked out of Armin`s life for the second time.
“So,” Levi turned to Armin, “you have a name?”
“Armin,” he replied, all of a sudden feeling nervous.
Levi scoffed. “I`ll bet you`ve never been outside a desert before. You ever been to Anchorage, kid?”
“Of course I have!” Armin exclaimed, feeling his face grow red at the accusation for reasons he couldn`t explain.
“And off planet?”
He had him there. Armin glanced at his feet. “N-never,” he stammered.
Levi scoffed.
“Well, you`re going to be off planet for a while,” he mused, sitting at the control panel that Armin was fairly certain belonged to air control. Levi pointed at the panel at a blinking light. “You see that, kid? That`s your friends taking off,” he glanced up at Armin. “How does a desert kid like you get mixed in with the Jedi?”
Armin shrugged. “How does a gang member get mixed up with the Jedi?” he countered.
Levi gave a rough laugh. “Maybe you`ll be of use to us after all,” he mused.
Armin chose to ignore that comment.
They waited in the room for a few minutes, until all but one of the lights on the panel were blinking. “Well, kid, that`s our cue to go. Ready to say goodbye to this dust bucket?”
Armin couldn`t say he wasn`t.
A new blaster shoved into his hands, they somehow made it to Levi`s ship with no hassles. Armin was too polite to point out that the ship was nothing more than a revamped smugglers vessel, and elected to silently pray it was space worthy. With no idea where they were headed, with people of all alien races rushing to and fro, he sat in an empty seat in the cargo bay as they took off, leaving behind the planet and all he had ever known.