'Ya sure I can't get ya something to drink?' Watto called to them from the door of his shop, but they were already rushing away, kicking up dust in their wake.
'Annie du Jedi,' Watto remarked, and he waved both his hands dismissively at the departing rickshaw. 'Waddya know.'
Anakin took the starship out even more furiously than he had brought it in, blasting away from the lot and nearly colliding with a small freighter as it maneuvered to put down. Calls of protest came into him from Mos Espa control, but he just switched off the comm and zoomed off across the city. Soon after, they passed over the race grounds where the younger Anakin had often raced in his Pods, but he barely glanced at it as he put the ship out straight over the desert, heading for Mos Eisley. When that port came into view, he veered to the north and crossed past it, moving higher in the sky. They spotted one moisture farm, and then another, and then the third, almost in a direct line from the city.
'That one,' Padme said. Anakin nodded grimly, and brought the ship down on a bluff overlooking the homestead.
'I'm really going to see her again,' he breathed, shutting down the engines.
Padme squeezed his arm and offered him a comforting smile.
'You don't know what it's like, to leave your mother like that,' he said.
'I leave my family all the time,' she replied. 'But you're right. It's not the same. I can't imagine what it's like to be a slave, Anakin.' 'It's worse to know that your mother is one.' Padme nodded, conceding the point.
'Stay with the ship, Artoo,' she instructed the droid, who beeped in reply. The first form that came into view as they walked toward the homestead was that of a very thin droid, dull gray in color, with weatherbeaten metal coverings. Obviously in need of a good oil bath, he bent stiffly and worked on some sort of fence sensor. Then he rose with a jerky motion, seeing their approach. 'Oh, hello,' he greeted. 'How might I be of service? I am See-' 'Threepio?' Anakin said breathlessly, hardly believing his eyes. 'Oh my!' the droid exclaimed, and he began to shake violently. 'Oh, my maker! Master Anakin! I knew you would return! I knew you would! And this must be Miss Padme!' 'Hello, Threepio,' Padme said. 'Oh, my circuits! I'm so pleased to see you both!' 'I've come to see my mother,' Anakin explained.
The droid turned sharply up toward him, then seemed to shrink back.
'I think… I think,' C-3PO stuttered. 'Perhaps we'd better go indoors.' He turned toward the homestead, motioning with his hand for the couple to follow.
Anakin and Padme exchanged nervous glances. Anakin could not shake the feeling of doom that lingered long after the imagery of his nightmares had faded…
By the time they caught up to the droid, he was in the courtyard, shouting, 'Master Cliegg! Master Owen! Might I present two important visitors?'
A young man and woman came rushing out of the house almost immediately, but slowed at the site of Padme and Anakin. 'I'm Anakin Skywalker,' Anakin said at once. 'Anakin?' the man echoed, his eyes going wide. 'Anakin!'
The woman at his side brought her hand up to cover her mouth. 'Anakin the Jedi,' she whispered breathlessly.
'You know of me? Shmi Skywalker is my mother.'
'Mine, too,' said the man. 'Not my real mom,' he added at Anakin's obviously puzzled look, 'but as real a mom as I've ever known.' He extended his hand. 'Owen Lars. This is my girlfriend, Beru Whitesun.' Beru nodded and said, 'Hello.'
Padme, after giving up on Anakin ever remembering to introduce her, came forward. 'I'm Padme.'
'I guess I'm your stepbrother,' Owen said, his eyes never leaving the young Jedi of whom he had heard so very much. 'I had a feeling you might show up.'
'Is my mother here?'
'No, she's not,' came a gruff answer from behind Owen and Beru, from the shadows of the house door. All four turned to see a heavyset man glide out on a hoverchair. One of his legs was heavily bandaged, the other, missing, and Anakin knew at once that these were fairly recent wounds. His heart seemed to leap into his throat.
'Cliegg Lars,' the man said, moving in close and extending his hand. 'Shmi is my wife. We should go inside. We have a lot to talk about.' Anakin followed as if in a dream, a very horrible dream.
'It was just before dawn,' Cliegg was saying, gliding toward the table in the homestead kitchen with Owen beside him, while Beru peeled off to gather some food and drinks for the guests.
'They came out of nowhere,' Owen added.
'A band of Tusken Raiders,' Cliegg explained. A sinking feeling nearly buckled Anakin's knees and he slumped into a seat across from Owen. He'd had some experience with Tusken Raiders, but on a very limited basis. Once he had tended the wound of one gravely injured Raider, and when the Tusken's friends showed up, they had let him go- something unheard of among the more civilized species of Tatooine. But still, despite that one anomaly, Anakin didn't like hearing the name of Shmi spoken in the same breath as the grim words, Tusken Raiders.
'Your mother had gone out early, like she always did, to pick mushrooms that grow on the vaporators,' Cliegg explained. 'From the tracks, she was about halfway home when they took her. Those Tuskens walk like men, but they're vicious, mindless monsters.'
'We'd seen many signs that they were about,' Owen piped in. 'She shouldn't have gone out!'
'We can't live huddled in fear!' Cliegg scolded, but he calmed at once and turned back to Anakin. 'All signs were that we'd chased the Tuskens away. We didn't know how strong this raiding band was-stronger than anything any of us have ever seen. Thirty of us went out after Shmi. Four of us came back.'
He grimaced and rubbed his leg, and Anakin felt the man's pain clearly.
