Star Wars - Episode I Adventures 014 - Podrace to Freedom

by A. L. Singer

  “The Republic doesn’t exist out here,” Shmi said. “We must survive on our own.”

  Anakin hated conversations like this. Visitors, especially those from the Inner Core, never understood the ways of Tatooine.

  But he didn’t need anyone’s sympathy or pitying looks. Slave wasn’t the word that defined him. And Tatooine wasn’t where his life would begin and end.

  It was time to change the dinner conversation. “Have you ever seen a Podrace?” he asked Padmé.

  She shook her head no.

  Sssssssthhhhwirlp!

  Jar Jar’s tongue shot like a whip, snaring some food on the other side of the table.

  Qui-Gon glowered at him. Shmi tried to hold back her dismay.

  “They have Podracing on Malastare,” Qui-Gon said. “Very fast. Very dangerous.”

  Anakin sat up proudly. “I’m the only human who can do it.”

  His mother looked sharply at him.

  “Mom, what?” he replied. “I’m not bragging. It’s true. Watto says he’s never heard of a human doing it.”

  Qui-Gon looked bemused. “You must have Jedi reflexes if you race Pods.”

  Exactly. Anakin grinned.

  Ssstthhhh —

  Just as Jar Jar unfurled his lightning-quick tongue, Qui-Gon reached out with astonishing speed and grabbed it between his fingers.

  Jar Jar gagged.

  “Don’t do that again,” Qui-Gon said firmly.

  “Mmmphwwrppl,” Jar Jar mumbled, nodding eagerly.

  Qui-Gon released his fingers and the tongue snapped back.

  Amazing. No one — not a human alive — could have reflexes like that.

  Well, almost no one.

  “I — I was wondering something…” Anakin began.

  “What?” Qui-Gon asked.

  “Well, ahhh…” Anakin took a deep breath. “You’re a Jedi Knight, aren’t you?”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Only Jedi carry that kind of weapon.”

  Qui-Gon leaned back and smiled nonchalantly. “Perhaps I killed a Jedi and took it from him.”

  “I don’t think so. No one can kill a Jedi!”

  “I wish that were so…”

  “I had a dream I was a Jedi — I came back here and freed all the slaves.” Anakin looked Qui-Gon straight in the eye. “Have you come to free us?”

  “No,” Qui-Gon replied. “I’m afraid not.”

  “I think you have. Why else would you be here?”

  Qui-Gon thought for a long moment. His eyes seemed to burrow through Anakin, making him feel warm and cold at the same time. Finally the man leaned forward across the table. “I can see there’s no fooling you, Anakin. You mustn’t let anyone know about us. We’re on our way to Coruscant, the central system in the Republic, on a very important mission. And it must be kept secret.”

  “Coruscant?” The name was magical to Anakin — the seat of the Galactic Republic, the grandest of planets. “Wow — how did you end up out here in the Outer Rim?”

  “Our ship was damaged,” Padmé explained, “and we’re stranded here until we can repair it.”

  “I can helpl” Anakin said eagerly. “I can fix anything!”

  “I believe you can,” Qui-Gon assured him, “but our first Job is to acquire the parts we need.”

  “Wit no-nutten moola to trade,” Jar Jar added glumly.

  “These junk dealers must have a weakness of some kind,” Padmé interjected.

  Shmi nodded. “Gambling. Everything here revolves around betting on those awful races.”

  “Podracing…” Qui-Gon sat back, thinking. “Greed can be a powerful ally.”

  “I’ve built a racer!” Anakin exclaimed. “It’s the fastest ever. There’s a big race tomorrow, on Boonta Eve. You could enter my Pod. It’s all but finished!”

  “Anakin, settle down,” his mother said. “Watto won’t let you —”

  “Watto doesn’t know I’ve built it!” Anakin looked pleadingly at Qui-Gon. “You could make him think it was yours, and you could get him to let me pilot it for you.”

  Shmi’s face darkened. “I don’t want you to race, Annie. It’s awful. I die every time Watto makes you do it.”

  “But Mom, I love it — and they need help. They’re in trouble. The prize money would more than pay for the parts they need.”

  “Wesa in a pitty bad goo,” Jar Jar said.

  Qui-Gon finally spoke up. “Your mother’s right. Is there anyone friendly to the Republic who might be able to help us?”

  Shmi shook her head no.

  The sound of the wind, although growing in intensity, sounded distant and muffled now.

  “We have to help them, Mom,” Anakin pleaded. “You said that the biggest problem in the universe is no one helps each other —”

  “Anakin, don’t,” his mother said, her face crumbling.

  “I’m sure Qui-Gon doesn’t want to put your son in danger,” Padmé reassured Shmi. “We will find another way.”

  Tears rimmed Shmi’s eyes. “No… Annie’s right, there is no other way. I may not like it, but he can help you.” Her voice dropped almost to a whisper. “He was… meant to help you.”

  Anakin’s jaw dropped. “Is that a yes? That is a YES!”

  Watto didn’t like the idea. Not because of Anakin’s safety. It was a question, as always, of money.

  As Qui-Gon and Padmé walked into the junk shop, Anakin and Watto were practically shouting at each other.

  Watto flew over to the visitors. “The boy tells me you want to sponsor him in a race,” he said. “You can’t afford parts. How can you do this? Not on Republic credits, I think.”

  “My ship,” Qui-Gon replied, “will be the entry fee.”

  From a pocket, he pulled out a disc-shaped holoprojector and held it before Watto. An image of the Queen’s Royal Starship instantly appeared, hovering ghostlike over the disk.

  Watto studied it carefully, nodding his head. “Not bad… not bad… Nubian…”

  “It’s in good order,” Qui-Gon said, “except for the parts we need.”

  “But what would the boy ride?” Watto asked. “He smashed up my Pod in the last race. It will take some long time to fix it.”

  Anakin swallowed hard. He was hoping his boss wouldn’t have mentioned that. “Ah, it wasn’t my fault, really. Sebulba flashed me with his vents. I actually saved the Pod… mostly.”

  “That you did,” Watto said with a chuckle. “The boy is good, no doubts there.”

  “I have… acquired a Pod in a game of chance,” Qui-Gon reported. “The fastest ever built.”

  Watto let out a sudden belly laugh. “I hope you didn’t kill anyone I know for it. So, you supply the Pod and the entry fee, I supply the boy. We split the winnings — fifty-fifty, I think.”

  “Fifty-fifty?” Qui-Gon retorted. “If it’s going to be fifty-fifty, I suggest you front the cash for the entry. If we win, you keep all the winnings, minus the cost of the parts I need. If we lose, you keep my ship.”

  Watto fell silent, thinking. Anakin’s heart raced. Watto was a gambler — but he was also unpredictable.

  “Either way, you win,” Qui-Gon prodded.

  “Deal!” Watto finally said. With a big smile, he turned to Anakin. “Yo bana pee ho-tah, meendee ya!” Your friend is a foolish one, methinks!

  At home, Anakin began working on the Podracer immediately, with the assistance of C-3PO and R2-D2. As they hammered and welded and filed, Anakin’s best friend, Kitster, bounded into the courtyard. Behind him were two other human friends, Seek and Amee, and a green-skinned, snouted Rodian named Wald.

  Kitster leaned down to inspect R2-D2. “Wow, a real Astro droid. How’d you get so lucky?”

  “That isn’t the half of it,” Anakin replied eagerly. “I’m entered in the Boonta Eve race tomorrow!”

  “What — with this?” Kitster said, gesturing dismissively toward the Pod.

  “Annie, jesko na joka,” Wald added. You are such a joke, Annie.


  “You’ve been working on that thing for years,” Amee said. “It’s never going to run.”

  Seek turned to go. “Come on, let’s play ball. Keep it up, Annie, you’re going to be bug squash!”

  Amee and Wald followed, laughing.

  Anakin didn’t mind. He would show them…

  The Podracer was an old-style model, with an arrowhead-shaped control Pod connected by long cables to two afterthrusters. In its day, this style was the most flexible and slippery of them all. Retrofitted with the modern equipment Anakin had collected, it would be a contender again.

  As he returned to his work, he noticed Jar Jar tinkering near the energy binders. “Hey, Jar Jar! Stay away from those!”

  Jar Jar looked up with a start. “Who, mesa?”

  “If your hand gets caught in that beam, it will go numb for hours.”

  Dzzzzt!

  A bolt of electricity shot out from the energy plate, zapping Jar Jar in the face. “Ouch! Dssssuy-viigouuso…” he mumbled, trying to massage some feeling into his mouth as he slunk away.

  Kitster examined the racer skeptically. “But you don’t even know if this thing will run.”

  “It will,” Anakin replied.

  “Bibbbbluuuthchaarreesthh…”

  Anakin was vaguely aware of Jar Jar’s garbled voice. But his eyes were fixed on the courtyard entrance, where Qui-Gon was bringing in a new piece of equipment.

  “I think it’s time we found out if it’ll run,” Qui-Gon called out. “Use this power charge.”

  “Yes, sir!” Anakin nearly pounced on the battery, taking it from Qui-Gon’s hands and jumping into the capsule. As he inserted it into the dashboard and strapped himself into the pilot’s seat, Kitster and Qui-Gon backed away.

  “RREEUUUUBBBLLLCCHHHEEEBBOOO!”

  At the sound of Jar Jar’s frantic scream, Padmé ran to the front of the Podracer. Hidden from Anakin’s sight, the Gungan was trying to pull himself free.

  His hand had gotten stuck in the engines.

  As Padmé wrested him loose, Anakin switched on the engines.

  FFFFOOOOM! The Pod racer roared to life.

  “Sit still, Annie. Let me clean this cut.”

  Later that night, Qui-Gon applied some kind of gel to Anakin’s arm, where he’d cut himself. It didn’t hurt, really, but Qui-Gon had insisted.

  As Anakin sat back impatiently, leaning against the porch wall, he gazed up into the night sky. Now that the storm had cleared, it seemed he could see every star in the galaxy. “There are so many,” he mused. “Do they all have a system of planets?”

  “Most of them,” Qui-Gon replied.

  “Has anyone been to them all?”

  Qui-Gon chuckled. “Not likely.”

  “I want to be the first one to see them all — ouch!” He jerked his arm back as Qui-Gon wiped away a few drops of blood.

  “There, good as new.”

  “Annie, bedtime!” Shmi called from inside the house.

  Qui-Gon transferred a droplet of Anakin’s blood onto a small chip and took out his comlink.

  “What are you doing?” Anakin asked.

  “Checking your blood for infections,” Qui-Gon replied.

  Strange. No comlink he’d ever seen in the shop could do something like that. “I’ve never seen —”

  “Annieeee! I’m not going to tell you again!” shouted his mother in her end-of-her-wits tone of voice.

  “Go on,” Qui-Gon said, “you have a big day tomorrow. Good night.”

  Anakin rolled his eyes. It was really a pain to be so young.

  Be careful.

  Anakin twisted in his bed as a dream surrounded him. It was all so real — a war on another planet, dust whipping up under an army of droids, the rumble of transports and tanks, the hum of laser weapons. And at the head of it, a mighty queen. No, not a queen —

  Padmé, what are you doing? Who are all these people? You’ll be killed —

  His eyes blinked open into a bedroom lit by the rising suns of Tatooine — and she was there. Leaning over him in his own room, not commanding troops, not dressed as a queen.

  “You were in my dream…” Anakin murmured. “You were leading a huge army.”

  “I hope not, I hate fighting,” Padmé replied, looking at him curiously. “Your mother wants you to come in and clean up. We have to leave soon.” Anakin leaped out of bed. This was Boonta Eve — the day of the race. No time to sleep late.

  Outside he saw the courtyard door open. Kitster rode in on an eopie, sturdy and long-snouted, and pulled another behind him.

  Anakin had to hook up the engines to the animals before breakfast. As he headed outside, he said to Padmé, “I won’t be long. Where’s Qui-Gon?”

  “He and Jar Jar left already. They’re with Watto at the arena.”

  Anakin ran out. “Hook ’em up, Kitster!”

  As they entered the hangar, Anakin shivered with excitement. The place was teeming with the droids and crews of all the great Podracers of the Outer Rim. The pilots themselves were milling about, testing equipment. Spidery Gasgano, slippery Ratts Tyerell, stout Teemto Pagalies, and of course, Sebulba — they were the main contenders. The others, Boles Roor, Mars Guo, Mawhonic, and the rest, were second-raters.

  Anakin and Padmé sat on the back of one eopie, Kitster and Shmi on the other. Behind them, R2-D2 pulled along the Podracer while C-3PO waddled alongside. They headed toward an empty hangar berth, where Watto and Qui-Gon seemed to be in deep conversation.

  “Bonapa keesa pateeso,” Watto called to Anakin cheerfully as he began flying away. “O wanna meetee chobodd!” Better stop your friend’s betting, or I’ll end up owning him, too!

  “What did he mean by that?” Anakin asked.

  “I’ll tell you later,” Qui-Gon said.

  Strange. Anakin would have thought Jedi were above such activities as betting. But you never knew.

  As he guided the pieces of the Podracer into place, R2-D2 communicated with beeps and whistles to the protocol droid.

  “Oh my, space travel sounds rather perilous,” C-3PO replied. “I can assure you they will never get me onto one of those dreadful starships!”

  Kitster grinned. “This is so wizard! I’m sure you’ll do it this time, Annie.”

  “Do what?” Padmé asked.

  “Finish the race, of course!” Kitster replied.

  Padmé turned to Anakin, looking pale. “You’ve never won a race?”

  “Well, not exactly…” Anakin said.

  “Not even finished?”

  Anakin shrugged. “But Kitster’s right — I will this time.”

  “Of course you will,” Qui-Gon said.

  Anakin had just enough time to check the linkage cables, lube the engines, and test the thrusters before the lineup call blared over the loudspeakers. With his team, he guided his Podracer slowly out of the hangar and toward Mos Espa Grand Arena.

  Anakin could barely keep his feet on the ground.

  As they entered, the crowd noise hit them like a sandstorm. The famous arena announcer, a two-headed amphibian named Fode/Beed, was exciting the crowd in two languages — Basic and Huttese.

  “TOOGI! TOOGI! TOONG MEE CHA KULKAH DU BOONTA MAGI, TAH OOS AZALUS OOVAL PODRACES.” We have perfect weather today for the Boonta Eve Classic, the most hazardous of all Podraces.

  “THAT’S ABSOLUTELY RIGHT. AND A BIG TURNOUT HERE, FROM ALL CORNERS OF THE OUTER RIM TERRITORIES. I SEE CONTESTANTS ARE MAKING THEIR WAY OUT TO THE STARTING GRID...”

  “POO TULA MOOSTA, WOE GRANEE CHAMPIO SEBULBA DU PIXELITO! SPASTYLEEYA BOOKIE OOKIE!” On the front line, the reigning champion, Sebulba from Pixelito, by far the favorite today.

  “AND A LATE ENTRY, ANAKIN SKYWALKER, A LOCAL BOY.”

  “WAMPA PEEDUNKEE UNKO.” I hope he has better luck this time.

  “I SEE THE FLAGGERS ARE MOVING ONTO THE TRACK…”

  Better luck? This victory would have nothing to do with luck, Anakin vowed. It would be about skill and smarts.

 
; After lining up at the start, the pilots stepped out of their Podracers. As they bowed to Jabba the Hutt in the main box, the crowd cheered wildly.

  Jabba was a tremendous tyrant, both in power and size. Although Anakin had never admitted this to anyone, Jabba reminded him of a pile of Bantha fat wrapped in the casing of a giant slug.

  Gesturing grandly, Jabba welcomed the crowd and began to announce the contestants: “SEBULBA… TUTA PIXELITO!”

  The crowd roared. A band played a fanfare as Sebulba waved to the crowd.

  Anakin turned to his mom. She was smiling, but her face was tense. Fearful.

  He embraced her tightly. She would have nothing to worry about.

  “…ANAKIN SKYWALKER, TUTA TATOOINE!”

  Anakin waved as the home crowd put up a big cheer.

  Jar Jar patted him on the back. “Dis berry scary, Annie. May da guds be kind, mesa pal-o.”

  “You carry all our hopes,” Padmé said, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

  “I won’t let you down,” Anakin replied.

  Sebulba tottered up beside Anakin. His cheek wattles flapped in the wind, and his dry lips turned up hideously in what must have been a kind of grin. “Bazda wahota, shag,” he grumbled. “Dobiella Nok. Yoka to Bantha poodoo.” You won’t walk away from this one, slave scum! You’re Bantha poodoo.

  “Cha skrunee da pat, sleemo,” Anakin replied. Don’t count on it, slimeball.

  He locked Sebulba in a steely stare, which broke off only when Qui-Gon came over to help Anakin into the cockpit.

  “KAA BAZZA KUNDEE HODRUDDA!” Jabba finally announced. Let the challenge begin!

  Anakin jumped into his seat. The people in the stands were stomping their feet. Crew members shouted last-minute urgent instructions, frightened eopies honked, and Kitster let out a loud whoop of joy.

  Qui-Gon had to raise his voice over the din. “Remember, concentrate on the moment. Feel, don’t think. Trust your instincts.” He gave Anakin a fond smile. “May the Force be with you.”

  Anakin strapped on his goggles. He flipped on his power-coupling activation switch. The coupling engines roared as the energy binders shot between the two rear capsules. All around the arena, the sound of revving Podracers filled the air.