avoid it. Its few spaceports have become havens for those who do not wish to be found.'
Padme glanced up at him. 'Like us,' she said.
A pair of domesticated banthas rumbled down the broad avenue, hairy bulks clearing a path for a sled train of quarry blocks and metal struts, horned heads nodding sleepily, padded feet stirring sand and dust in thick clouds with each lumbering step. Their driver dozed atop the foremost sled in the train, small and insignificant in their shadow.
Jar Jar Binks stayed as close as he could manage to the Jedi and the girl, his eyes darting left and right, head swiveling as if it might twist right off his shoulders. Nothing he saw was familiar or welcome. Hard looks followed after him. Sharp eyes measured him for things he would just as soon not think about. Stares were at best challenging and at worst unfriendly. He did not like this place. He wished he were almost anywhere else.
'Tis very bad, dis.' He swallowed against a dryness in his throat that was caused by more than the heat. 'Nutten good 'bout ills place!' He took a careless step and found himself ankle deep in a foul-smelling ooze. 'Oh, oh. Tis icky!'
R2-D2 rolled cheerfully along at his side, beeping and chirping in a futile effort at reassuring the Gungan that all was well.
They traveled the main street of the spaceport to its far end and turned down a side street that led to a small plaza ringed with salvage dealers and junk shops. Qui-Gon glanced at the mounds of engine parts, control panels, and communication chips recovered from starships and speeders.
'We'll try one of these smaller dealers first,' he advised, nodding toward one in which a vast pile of old transports and parts was heaped within an attached compound.
They walked through the shop's low entry and were greeted by a pudgy blue creature who flew into their faces like a crazed probe, tiny wings buzzing so fast they could barely be seen. 'Hi chubba da nago?' it snapped in a frizzy, guttural voice, demanding to know their business.
A Toydarian, Qui-Gon thought. He knew enough to recognize one, but not much else. 'I need parts for a J- type 327 Nubian,' he advised the other.
The Toydarian fairly beamed with delight, his reticular snout curling over his toothy mouth and making odd smacking noises. 'Ah, yes! Nubian! We have lots of that.' The sharp, bulbous eyes flicked from one face to the other, ending with the Gungan. 'What's this?'
Jar Jar shrank behind Qui-Gon fearfully. 'Never mind that.' The Jedi brushed the Toydarian's question aside. 'Call. you help us or not?'
'Can you pay me or not-that's the question!' The skinny blue arms crossed defiandy over the rounded torso as the Toydarian regarded them with disdain. 'What kinda junk you after, farmer?'
'My droid has a readout of what I need,' Qui-Gon advised the otber with a glance down at the R2 unit.
Still hanging midair in front of Qui-Gon's nose, the Toydarian glanced over one shoulder. 'Peedunkel! Naba dee unko!'
A small, disheveled boy raced in from the salvage yard, coming to an uncertain stop in front of them. His clothes were ragged and thick with grime, and he had the look of someone about to be given a beating. He flinched as the Toydarian wheeled back and lifted a hand in admonishment.
'What took you so long?'
'Mel tass cho-pas kee,' the boy responded quickly, blue eyes taking in the newcomers with a quick glance. 'I was cleaning out the bin like you-'
'Chut-chut!' The Toydarian threw up his hands angrily. 'Never mind the bin! Watch the store! I've got some selling to do!'
He flitted back around to face his customers. 'So, let me take you out back. You'll soon find what you need.'
He darted toward the salvage yard, beckoning Qui-Gon eagerly. The Jedi followed, with R2-D2 trundling after. Jar Jar moved to a shelf and picked up an odd - looking bit of metal, intrigued by its shape, wondering what it was.
'Don't touch anything,' Qui-Gon called over his shoulder, his tone of voice sharp.
Jar Jar put the item down and made a face at Qui-Gon's departing back, sticking out his long tongue in defiance. When the Jedi was out of sight, he picked up the part again.
Anakin Skywalker could not take his eyes off the girl. He noticed her the moment he entered Watto's shop, even before Watto said anything, and he hadn't been able to stop looking at her since. He barely heard what Watto said to him about watching the shop. He barely noticed the strange-looking creature that had come in with her and was poking around in the shelves and bins. Even after she noticed he was staring at her, he could not help himself.
He moved now to an open space on the counter, hoisted himself up, and sat watching her while pretending to clean a transmitter cell. She was looking back at him now, embarrassment turning to curiosity. She was small and slender with long, braided brown hair, brown eyes, and a face he found so beautiful that he had nothing to which he could compare it. She was dressed in rough peasant's clothing, but she seemed very self- possessed.
She gave him an amused smile, and he felt himself melting in confusion and wonder. He took a deep breath. 'Are you an angel?' he asked quietly.
The girl stared. 'What?'
'An angel.' Anakin straightened a bit. 'They live on the moons of Iego, I think. They are the most beautiful creatures in the universe. They are good and kind, and so pretty they make even the most hardened space pirates cry like small children.'
She gave him a confused look. 'I've never heard of angels,' she said.
'You must be one of them,' Anakin insisted. 'Maybe you just don't know it.'
