long trail of thoughts, causing his button nose to scrunch up, something I found to be adorable. He looked up at Qui-Gon and asked, "have you come to free us?"

My heart broke a little bit as I looked at my friend, his innocent and kind demeanor warming me up inside.

Qui-Gon looked heavily uncomfortable as he replied, "No, I'm afraid not," with a solemn looking expression on his wise face. Something tells me he would of saved the slaves of Tatooine if I had not been in the picture as the Queen of Naboo.

"I think you have," Anakin countered, causing me to look up at my friend in surprise at his insistence. It intrigued me greatly as I tilted my head at him.

"Why else would you be here?"

Anakin turned towards me as I directed my eyes to the wooden table I was currently sitting at.

We couldn't tell him. He wouldn't understand the importance.

Qui-Gon leaned forward once more to attempt to be closer to Anakin, lowering his voice slightly as he replied, "I can see there's no fooling you. We're on our way to Coruscant, the central system of the Republic, on a very important mission."

Anakin looked towards me once again, tilting his head in question, wanting to know if what Qui-Gon was saying was true. I slowly nodded my head telling him it was indeed factual.

"How did you end up here on the outer rim?" Anakin asked as he swiveled his head towards Qui-Gon once more.

"Our ship was damaged," Padmé imputed as everyone looked at my brunette sister.

"We're stranded here until we can repair it," I continued on Padmé's statement, looking at the blonde boy next to me. His bright blue eyes stared once more into my green ones, his crystal blue irises holding many unanswered questions in them.

"I can help!" Anakin exclaimed as he lifted out of his seat a little, excited at the idea of helping us, "I can fix anything!"

I smiled at the slave boy, believing in him wholeheartedly when he said he could help us.

I trusted the boy immensely, and if he said he could get us out, I believed him.

"I believe you can," Qui-Gon agreed with me as he looked towards Shmi for a split second, "but first we must acquire the parts we need."

"Wit no-nutten mula to trade," Jar Jar imputed as he looked at Qui-Gon, shaking his head sadly, causing his big, floppy ears to bounce around, the sight almost making me giggle, although it was not the time to be laughing. The conversation we were having was serious, and involved my involvement with the turmoil occurring in the galaxy.

"These junk dealers must have a weakness of some kind," Padmé thought out loud, looking at me for my opinion on the matter.

"Padmé's right," I agreed, turning towards Qui-Gon and casting my eyes back down on the table,"everything has a weakness. The hard part is finding what it is."

"Gambling," Shmi suggested, her own brown eyes gazing off towards Qui-Gon and I, "Everything here revolves around those awful races."

"Podracing," Qui-Gon trailed off, sucked into his own train of deep thought at Shmi's suggestion, "Greed can be a powerful ally."

"I've built a racer!" Anakin piped up, causing everyone to look in his direction, "It's the fastest ever!"

He thought about his statement more and suddenly suggested, "There's a big race tomorrow, on Boonta Eve. You could enter my pod."

"Anakin!" Shmi immediately scolded, a tight and stern expression on her usually kind face, "Watto won't let you."

"Watto doesn't know what I've built," Anakin attempted to convince to his mother, turning to Qui-Gon in the process and suggesting, "You could make him think it's yours, and get him to let me pilot for you."

Shmi, in my opinion, was obviously and rightfully upset at the idea of her son Podracing, and to be honest, I couldn't blame her. When I have children of my own someday, I would never want them to be exposed into such a dangerous sport.

Qui-Gon looked at Shmi and understood her anxiety as she stated, "I don't want you to race. It's awful. I die every time Watto makes you do it."

The Toydarian seemed to tick me off even more at the fact that he forced slaves to dangerously podrace for him, simply for his own benefit and bank account. I kneaded my hands together under the table so I couldn't grind my nails into them, causing even more bloody indents.

Everything seemed to be ticking me off this week.

"But, Mom," Anakin countered, desperately trying to get Shmi to agree with his plan, "I love it. The prize money would more than pay for the parts they need."

"Anakin!" Shmi reprimanded once more, not appreciating her son's heart of gold towards a bunch of strangers, although her son did inherit that trait from herself.

"Your mother's right," Qui-Gon imputed from the head of the table, looking at Anakin with caution in his grey irises, "Is there anyone friendly to the Republic who might help us?"

Shmi solemnly shook her head to simulate that there was absolutely no one on this planet that would be willing to help us. Everyone was either a gambler, or a Hutt, and neither were good.

"Mom," my young friend started, gaining Shmi's attention and looking at her with big blue eyes, "you said the biggest problem in the universe is nobody helps each other."

His revelation warmed my heart a little, and I looked to Padmé to see if she had the same thought, and as I predicted, she did.

Anakin Skywalker was certainly wrapping us around his little finger.

Shmi sighed heavily at her son's words, conflicted beyond belief when it came to the tough choice she had laid out in front of her.

"I'm sure Qui-Gon doesn't want to put your son in danger," Padmé offered, looking at the distraught mother unraveling into heaps of conflict, "We'll find some other way."

"The choice is up to you, Ms. Skywalker. Take your time. We know we're asking for a lot," I also offered, wanting the woman to feel obligated to her own son.

Shmi Skywalker didn't have to think about it for very long, as she suddenly explained in a strained voice, "No, there is no other way. I may not like it, but... he can help you."

The woman who I would come to admire in the passing years suddenly looked at her son with that blazing determination in her eyes.

"He was meant to help you."

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

A/N: Chapter six is officially done! This one was actually a blast to write and I am extremely excited for the next chapter, as it is podracing time! That's always exciting. I'm predicting the next chapter to be out by the weekend, as it usually takes me four days to write a full chapter. Until this weekend I suppose, goodbye!

Fun Fact: Clarissé isn't very rebellious but Tatooine gave her a sense of freedom, which was another reason from my previous fun fact on why she liked the sandy hell pit so much. It comforted her in a way to know that she could do something on her own without her advisors breathing down her throat all the time.

Word Count: 4642 words