Within the Force (Star Wars fan fic) Book One

Chapter Three

Anakin and the group stopped at a fruit stand. Boxes of brightly colored fruit were arranged on a rack tilted toward the street for viewing. Jira, a weathered old lady, gray-haired and stooped, her simple clothing patched and worn, rose from a stool to greet them on their approach.

"How are you feeling today, Jira?" Anakin asked her, giving her a quick hug.

The old lady smiled. "The heat's never been kind to me, you know, Annie."

"Guess what?" the boy replied quickly, beaming. "I've found that cooling unit I've been searching for. It's pretty beat up, but I'll have it fixed up for you in no time, I promise. That should help."

Jira reached out to brush his pink cheek with her wrinkled hand, her smile broadening. "You're a fine boy, Annie."

Anakin shrugged off the compliment and began scanning the fruit display. "I'll take five pallies, Jira." He glanced at Ashlyn eagerly. "You'll like these. "

He reached into his pocket for the truguts he had been saving, but when he brought them out to pay Jira, he dropped one. Qui-Gon, who stood next to him, bent to retrieve it. As he did, his poncho opened just far enough that the boy caught sight of the lightsaber hanging from the belt about his waist. The boy's eyes went wide, but he masked his surprise by focusing on the coins. He only had four, he found.

"Whoops, I thought I had more," he said quickly, not looking up. "Make that four pallies, Jira. I'm not that hungry anyway." That made Ashlyn frown.

The old woman gave the fruit to the boy and took the coins from him. A gust of wind whipped down the street, rattling the framework of poles and causing the awning to billow. A second gust sent dust swirling in all directions.

"Here, you'll like these pallies... Here," Anakin said, not much fazed by the weather.

Qui-Gon nodded. "Thank you." He took them, putting them in a little pouch under his poncho, revealing, again, for a moment, his lightsaber.

Jira rubbed her arms with her gnarled hands. "Gracious, my bones are aching. There's a storm coming, Annie. You'd better get home quick."

The wind gusted in a series of sharp blasts that sent sand and loose debris flying.

Anakin glanced at the sky, then at Qui-Gon. "Do you have shelter?"

The Jedi Master nodded. "We'll head back to our ship. Thank you again, my young friend, for―"

"Is your ship far?" the boy interrupted hurriedly.

All around them, shopkeepers and vendors were closing and shuttering windows and doors, carrying goods and wares inside, wrapping coverings over displays and boxes.

"It's on the outskirts," Ashlyn answered, turning away from the stinging gusts of sand.

Anakin took her hand quickly, tugging on it. "You'll never reach the outskirts in time. Sandstorms are very, very dangerous. Come with me. I'll take you to my home; you can wait it out there. My mom won't mind. Hurry!" Anakin said, dragging her away. With the wind howling all about them and the air clouded with sand, the rest of the group followed them as Anakin rushed down the windy street, pulling Ashlyn along. Artoo whistled along the way.

The sandstorm raged through the streets of Mos Espa in a blinding, choking whirlwind that tore at clothes and exposed skin with relentless force. Anakin held Ashlyn's hand so as not to lose her, the farmer, the handmaiden, the amphibious creature, and the Artoo unit trailing behind, fighting to reach his home in the city's slave quarters while there was still time. Other residents and visitors struggled past, engaged in a similar pursuit, heads lowered, faces covered, bodies bent over as if weighted by age. Somewhere in the distance, an eopie bawled in fright. The light turned an odd yellowish gray, obscured by sand and grit, and the buildings of the city disappeared in a deep, impenetrable haze.