Star Wars: Not Quite A Shadow (WIP)

Chapter 1

On a ship somewhere in the Outer Rim...

Obi-Wan grumbled inwardly about Qui-Gon's decision. Of course, Qui-Gon had made up his mind to take the Queen to Tatooine, though he tried to mask it by discussing it with the Queen. In reality, the Queen had little choice but to accept Qui-Gon's advice to hide on the planet run by the Hutts; their ship was too badly damaged to make the long journey to Coruscant. Although Obi-Wan knew this was their only real option, he did not enjoy having to abide by his master's sometimes unorthodox method of making things happen.

Ric Olie, the captain of their ship, turned to him and said, "I dislike this decision as much as you do, if it helps."

Obi-Wan's eyes never left the ship's monitor. "It does not help in the strict sense. It does help to know someone disagrees with it as much as I do."

The captain chuckled. "You and your master are both strong-willed. And dare I say it: your master does have the benefit of experience whereas you do not."

At this, Obi-Wan turned to face Olie. "Simply because I'm young...it doesn't make my opinion on things matter any less. I am just as concerned for the Queen's safety as anyone on this ship, my master included." Olie shrugged as he retreated into silence and Obi-Wan returned to watching the monitor. Qui-Gon walked briskly into the cockpit.

"That's it. Tatooine." Olie said.

Obi-Wan's monitor bleeped as the computer detected lifeforms. "There's a settlement."

Qui-Gon nodded. "Land near the outskirts: we don't want to attract attention."

ᐓᐓᐓᐓᐗᐗᐗᐗ

After they'd landed outside of the settlement, and as Qui-Gon prepared to leave, Obi-Wan was looking over the damaged parts of the ship that had been brought inside. "The hyperdrive generator's gone, Master. We'll need a new one."

Qui-Gon sighed. "That will complicate things. Be wary, I sense a disturbance in the Force."

Obi-Wan nodded. "I feel it also Master."

Qui-Gon adjusted his poncho. "Don't let them send any transmissions" was his last warning as he left for the surface. Obi-Wan watched his Master leave; he was unsure as to how anyone would be able to contact them this far outside of civilization, but the enemy often discovered ways to find those they hunted. As Obi-Wan returned to what he was doing, he could not shake the feeling that something would happen before they left this forsaken planet.

Tatooine: the same day at the same time

Petra stared up at the ceiling, her eyes feeling heavy due to the lack of sleep from the night before. She glanced over at her still-sleeping, still-snoring customer. Petra rolled her eyes as she sat up in bed and proceeded to dress; unsavory clients were just one unpleasant thing about her entire situation.

Her on-the-wall chronometer beeped loudly, and Petra made no move to turn it off to save her customer from being rudely awakened. He grunted with mild anger as he woke up. "Shut that thing off."

Petra shrugged. "I can't; the inner workings get stuck and it just has to shut itself off."

He threw off the covers and dressed, every move punctuated by frustration. "Tell your master to have it fixed, sweetheart." After roughly kissing her, he said, "Otherwise he might not be so fortunate to get my business again." With a flourish of his hand, he left the back room. Smiling to herself, she tapped the surface of the chronometer with the palm of her hand and it ceased its protests. Running a brush through her hair, she examined her reflection in the mirror. She never could see what exactly attracted men to her. She always felt self-conscious of her facial markings: small, delicate black swirls bordering her face, running down the back of her neck and down her arms. Although every Serennian woman was born with these distinguishing marks, other humans called them 'tattoos'. Petra had hated them since she was old enough to realize what they were. They marked her as what she was: a prostitute. She had always believed that there was no escaping a destiny that was set out for you before your birth. She also had, as a Serennian, heightened hearing, eyesight, and sensory perception; the latter was not a proven hereditary trait of her race, but she didn't care. None of these traits proved useful in her line of work, and sometimes she hated being able to sense things before they happened.

A faint bell brought her out of her daydreaming. There was a bell that signaled anyone's entrance into Watto's shop. She looked over at the chronometer noting that it was past time for Anakin to be in the shop, so it must be a customer. She sighed. With the podrace being held in Mos Eisley in a few days, her time would be filled with well-paying customers looking for distraction. Anakin typically raced, but because of a recent crash and subsequent destruction of his podracer, he would not be participating. For this, she breathed a prayer of thanks to whatever gods might be listening.

As she stood there looking in the mirror, she heard Watto shouting for Anakin, asking him to watch the shop. Petra very rarely watched the shop because her use was not in machinery or selling parts: it was in 'customer service'. If she wasn't entertaining customers, she was at home resting up for when there were customers for her to entertain. Watto screamed at her from the shop to get up front, and Petra did not wait to comply. He already sounded aggravated...which to be honest wasn't any different from usual. So Petra adjusted her rather revealing top and made her way to the front of the shop, sighing as she went. It would be several hours before she could go home and catch up on the sleep she'd missed.

She was wrong when she assumed this day would be nothing unusual.