Star Wars_ The Dark Lord Trilogy - James Luceno [25]
Obi-Wan’s little joke. But the words had stung, for some reason. Probably because of Anakin’s own musings about what might have become of him had the Jedi not been forced to land on Tatooine to find a replacement part for Padmé’s starship. It wasn’t hard to imagine himself stuck in Mos Espa. With his mom; with C-3PO, without the bright shell he now wore—
No.
At nine years of age he had been an expert Podracer; by twenty-one he would have been a galactic champion. With or without Qui-Gon’s or Watto’s help, he would eventually have won the Boonta Eve race, and his reputation would have been made. He would have bought freedom for himself, his mother, all the slaves in Mos Espa, gone on to win the Grand Races on Malastare, been hailed in the gambling casinos on Ord Mantell and Coruscant. He wouldn’t have become a Jedi—he would have been too old to train—would never have learned to wield a lightsaber. But he would have been able to fly rings around the finest of Jedi pilots, including Saesee Tiin.
And he still would have been stronger in the Force than any of them.
He might never have met Padmé …
He had thought her an Angel, arrived on Tatooine from the Moons of Viago. A playful remark on his part, but not as entirely innocent as it had sounded. Even so, to her he was just a funny little boy. Padmé didn’t know then that his precocity wasn’t limited to a skill for building and fixing things. He had an uncanny sense for knowing what was going to happen; a certainty that he would become celebrated. He was different—chosen long before the Jedi Order had bestowed the title. Mythical beings came to him—Angels and Jedi—and he excelled in contests in which humans weren’t even meant to participate. And yet, even with an Angel and Jedi for guests in his home, he hadn’t divined the sudden departure from Tatooine, the Jedi training, his marriage.
He was no longer the funny little boy. But Padmé remained his Angel—
A vision of her broke his reverie.
Something … something had changed. His heart filled with longing for her. Even through the Force he couldn’t clarify what he was feeling. He simply knew that he should be with her. That he should be there to protect her …
He flexed his artificial hand.
Remain in the living Force, he told himself. A Jedi didn’t dwell in the past. A Jedi surrendered attachment to persons and things that passed out of his or her life. A Jedi didn’t fantasize, or think: What if—
He cut his eyes to the three human technicians who were fitting the mechno-chair into a crash-foam safety harness. One of them was working too fast, and almost knocked the chair over.
Anakin shot to his feet and stormed across the bay.
“Be careful with that!” he shouted.
The oldest of the three gave him a scornful glance. “Relax, kid, we know our job.”
Kid.
He waved his hand, calling on the Force to keep the mechno-chair fixed in place. The three techs strained to move it, baffled until they realized what Anakin had done. Then the same one straightened and glared.
“All right, let go of it.”
“When I’m convinced you actually know what you’re doing.”
“Look, kid—”
Anakin beetled his brows in anger and advanced a step. The three techs began to back away from the chair.
They’re afraid of me. They’ve heard about me.
For an instant, their fear empowered him; then he felt shame, and averted his glance.
The eldest was holding up his hands. “Take it easy, Jedi. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Pack it yourself if you want to,” another said.
Anakin swallowed hard. “It’s important, that’s all. I don’t want anything to happen to it.” He let the mechno-chair settle to the floor.
“Carefully, this time,” the eldest said, refusing to so much as glance at Anakin.
“General Skywalker!” a trooper called from behind him.
Anakin turned, saw the trooper motioning to the shuttle.
“Hyperwave commo for you—from the office of the Supreme Chancellor.”
Now the three technicians looked at him again. As well they should.
Without a word, Anakin spun on his heel and ascended the shuttle’s boarding ramp. Above a holoprojector