Star Wars - Episode I Journal - Anakin Skywalker Read Free Page A

I sat in the Pod, feeling the vibrations from those powerful turbines.
    Boy, did it feel good.
    But the job wasn’t finished, and we worked straight into the night. And when we living creatures were too tired to work anymore, the astromech droid Artoo-Detoo kept right on going, throwing on a final coat of paint. By then it was way past my bedtime and Mom was hinting that I’d better get some sleep.
    I agreed to stop for the night. But before I went to bed, I sat on the porch. I looked at all the stars in the night sky, and wondered which, if any, I would someday visit. Qui-Gon was dabbing some blood off a place where I’d cut myself. I was so busy imagining what it would be like to go out and visit all those systems that I almost didn’t notice when he scraped some of my blood onto a comlink chip.
    When I asked him what he was doing, he said he was simply checking for infections. I suspected there was another reason. But I knew that whatever it was, he wasn’t going to tell me.

    That night I had a new dream. I was someone powerful—like a Jedi Knight, but different. I was in a place I’d never seen before. A shadowy place. Padmé was there, but she seemed distant—older, and sadder. She was wearing battle dress, and while she still seemed delicate and perfect, she was also strong and determined.
    She was leading a huge army into battle. And that was strange, too. I couldn’t tell which side I was on.
    When I woke in the morning, Padmé was there. I told her about the dream. She shook her head and said she hoped it wouldn’t come true because she hated fighting.
    Even though it was only a dream, I could tell that she took it seriously. As if somewhere inside her, she knew what I knew—that my dreams weren’t just my imagination. That there was truth in them.
    And sometimes that truth was frightening.
    We went back to work on my Pod. Soon my friend Kitster showed up with two eopies. Those long-snouted pack animals would pull my Pod’s turbines to the race arena out in the desert. I uncoupled the engines and hitched one behind each eopie. Artoo-Detoo would pull the Pod.
    Kitster rode on one of the eopies while Padmé and I rode the other. I’d put on the jumpsuit Mom had sewn for me. As we slowly made our way through Mos Espa and toward the race arena, I tried to keep my mind on the race.
    We got to the hangar where a dozen crews were preparing their racers. Good mechanics are hard to find out here. I never saw so many creatures pretending they knew what they were doing. One team had mounted their engines backward! Qui-Gon was already there, talking to Watto. Because of the clamor echoing through the hangar, I couldn’t hear what they were talking about. But when Watto left he made a crack to me that I should warn Qui-Gon to stop betting before he ended up a slave, too.
    Of course, when I asked Qui-Gon about it, he said he’d tell me later.
    We got to work recoupling the engines to my racer. All around us the goofy crews of pit droids prepared their Podracers. Hydrospanners clanged against metal and delicate instruments fell to the floor with a crash. Nervous drivers screamed in frustration. The tension was understandable. The law of Podracing is unforgiving: Once the race begins, few will finish, and many will die trying.
    It wasn’t long before it was time to take the racers into the race arena. The arena is lined with viewing stands where the spectators gather to watch and bet. The turnout is always large because everyone loves to watch Podraces. Excitement is rare on Tatooine. On race days the crowded streets of Mos Espa are empty.
    The race starts in the arena, then goes out into the desert canyons, then returns to the arena. Before it starts the racers bow to the “royal box.” This was ridiculous. Jabba the Hutt, the biggest slime in the galaxy, sat in that box. And we had to bow as if he was some kind of king. The king of the crooks, maybe.
    I knew if I lost the race, Qui-Gon, Padmé, and the others