Anakin looked skyward, where the last of the day's light was beginning to fade. The first stars were coming out, small pinpricks against the deepening black of the night sky. Worlds he had never seen and could only dream about waited out there, and one day he would visit them. He would not be here forever. Not him. 'Psst! Anakin!' A voice whispered cautiously to him from the deep shadows at the back of the yard, and a pair of small forms slipped through the narrow gap at the fence corner where the wire had failed. It was Kitster, his best friend, creeping into view with Wald, mother friend, following close behind. Kitster was small and dark, his hair cut in a close bowl about his head, his clothing loose and nondescript, designed to preserve moisture and deflect heat and sand. Wald, trailing uncertainly, was a Rodian, an off-worlder who had come to Tatooine only recently. He was several years younger than his friends, but bold enough that they let him hang around with them most of the time.
'Hey, Annie, what're you doing?' Kitster asked, glancing around doubtfully, keeping a wary eye out for Watto. Anakin shrugged. 'Watto says I have to fix the Pod up again, make it like new.' 'Yeah, but not today,' Kitster advised solemnly. 'Today's almost over. C'mon. Tomorrow's soon enough for that. Let's go get a ruby bliel.' It was their favorite drink. Anakin felt his mouth water. 'I can't. I have to stay and work on this until...' He stopped. Until dark, he was going to say, but it was nearly dark already, so... 'What'll we buy them with?' he asked doubtfully. Kitster motioned toward Waldo 'He's got five druggats he says he found somewhere or other.' He gave Wald a sharp look. 'He says.' 'Got 'em right here, I do.'
Wald's strange, scaly head nodded assurance, his protruding eyes blinking hard. He pulled on one green ear. 'Don't you believe me?' Wald said in Huttese. 'Yeah, yeah, we believe you.' Kitster winked at Anakin. 'C'mon, let's go before old flapping wings gets back.'
They went out through the gap in the fence and down the road behind, turned left, and hurried through the crowded plaza toward the food stores just ahead. The streets were still crowded, but the traffic was all headed homeward or to the Hutt pleasure dens. The boys zipped smoothly through knots of people and carts, past speeders hovering just off surface, down walks beneath awnings in the process of being drawn up, and along stacks of goods being set inside under lock and key. In moments, they had reached the shop that sold ruby bliels and had worked their way up to the counter. Wald was as good as his word, and he produced the requisite druggats in exchange for three drinks and handed one to each of his friends. They took them outside, sipping at the gooey mixture through straws, and made their way slowly back down the street, chatting among themselves about racers and speeders and mainline ships, about battle cruisers and starfighters and the pilots who captained them. They would all be pilots one day, they promised each other, a vow they sealed with spit and hand slaps.
They were right in the middle of a heated discussion over the merits of starfighters, when a voice close to them said, 'Give me the choice, I'd take a Z-95 Headhunter every time.' The boys turned as one. An old spacer stood leaning on a speeder hitch, watching them. They knew what he was right away from his clothing, weapons, and the small, worn fighter corps insignia he wore stitched to his tunic. It was a Republic insignia. You didn't see many of those on Tatooine.
'Saw you race today,' the old spacer said to Anakin. He was tall and lean and corded, his face weatherworn and sun-browned, his eyes an odd color of gray, his hair cut short so that it bristled from his scalp, his smile ironic and warm. 'What's your name?' 'Anakin Skywalker,' Anakin told him uncertainly. 'These are my friends, Kitster and Wald.'
The old spacer nodded wordlessly at the other two, keeping his eyes fixed on Anakin. 'You fly like your name, Anakin. You walk the sky like you own it. You show promise.' He straightened and shifted his weight with practiced ease, glancing from one boy to the next. 'You want to fly the big ships someday?' All three boys nodded as one. The old spacer smiled. 'There's nothing like it. Nothing. Flew all the big boys, once upon a time, when I was younger. Flew everything there was to fly, in and out of the corps. You recognize the insignia, boys?' Again, they nodded, interested now, caught up in the wonder of coming face-to-face with a real pilot - not just of Podracers, but of fighters and cruisers and mainline ships.
'It was a long time ago,' the spacer said, his voice suddenly distant. 'I left the corps six years back. Too old. Time passes you by, leaves you to find something else to do with what's left of your life.' He pursed his lips. 'How're those ruby bliels? Still good? Haven't had one in years. Maybe now's a good time. You boys care to join me? Care to drink a ruby bliel with an old pilot of the Republic?' He didn't have to ask twice.
He took them back down the street to the shop they had just left and purchased a second drink for each of them and one for himself. They went back outside to a quiet spot off the plaza and stood sipping at the bliels and staring up at the sky. The light was gone, and stars were sprinkled all over the darkened firmament, a wash of silver specks nestled against the black.
'Flew all my life,' the old spacer advised solemnly, eyes fixed on the sky. 'Flew everywhere I could manage, and you know what? I couldn't get to a hundredth of what's out there. Couldn't get to a millionth. But it was fun trying. A whole lot of fun.' His gaze shifted to the boys again. 'Flew a cruiser filled with Republic soldiers into Makem Te during its rebellion. That was a scary business. Flew Jedi Knights once upon a time, too.' 'Jedi!' Kitster exhaled sharply. 'Wow!' 'Really? You really flew Jedi?' Anakin pressed, eyes wide. The spacer laughed at their wonder. 'Cross my heart and call me bantha fodder if I'm lying. It was a long time ago, but I flew four of them to a place I'm not supposed to talk about even now. Told you. I've been everywhere a man can get to in one lifetime. Everywhere.'
'I want to fly ships to those worlds one day,' Anakin said softly. Wald snorted doubtfully. 'You're a slave, Annie. You can't go anywhere.' The old pilot looked down at Anakin. The boy couldn't look at him. 'Well,' he said softly, 'in this life you're often born one thing and die another. You don't have to accept that what you're given when you come in is all you'll have when you leave.' He laughed suddenly. 'Reminds me of something. I flew the Kessel Run once, long ago. Not many have done that and lived to tell about it. Lots told me I couldn't do it, told me not to bother trying, to give it up and go on to something else. But I wanted that experience, so I just went ahead and found a way to prove them wrong.' He looked down at Anakin. 'Could be that's what you'll have to do, young Skywalker. I've seen how you handle a Podracer. You got the eyes for it, the feel. You're better than I was at twice your age.' He nodded solemnly. 'You want to fly the big ships, I think maybe you will.' He stared at the boy, and Anakin stared back. The old spacer smiled and nodded slowly. 'Yep, Anakin Skywalker, I do think maybe one day you will.'
He arrived home late for dinner and received his second scolding of the day. He might have tried making something up about having to stay late for Watto, but Anakin Skywalker didn't lie to his mother. Not about anything, not ever. He told her the truth, about stealing away with Kitster and Wald, about drinking ruby bliels, and about sharing stories with the old spacer. Shmi wasn't impressed. She didn't like her son spending time with people she didn't know, even though she understood how boys were and how capable Anakin was of looking after himself.
'If you feel the need to avoid the work you've been given by Watto, come see me about the work that needs doing here at home,' she advised him sternly.
Anakin didn't argue with her, smart enough by now to realize that arguing in these situations seldom got him anywhere. He sat quietly, eating with his head down, nodding when nodding was called for, thinking that his mother loved him and was worried for him and that made her anger and frustration with him all right.
