Accismus⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.• Anakin Skywalker⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.•

17.

They entered the desert planet's atmosphere after leaving hyperspace. Their silver ship took them through the bright blue sky and beamed from the reflection of Tatooine's two searing suns. Sol observed the hills of endless sand through the windshield as Anakin landed on the outskirts of the main city. She heard it was called Mos Espa from Padme and Anakin's discussions and was wary at their descriptions of crime and outer rim dealings that occurred there.

'Artoo will stay with the ship with Padme. It's safer out here,' Anakin instructed as he turned off the controls and stood from the driver's seat. Sol was surprised to hear Padme's lack of argument and was sure that this wasn't the average planet to bring a senator of Naboo. R2 whistled in acknowledgement and Sol prepared to follow Anakin into the desert.

'Good luck and be careful!' Padme called, the two Jedi descending from the ship. Sol looked over her shoulder with a smile, while Anakin continued in his stride. They left the ship and headed for the city off in the distance.

'Could we not have called for some hired speeders to come meet us?' Sol questioned. The crown of her head was already burning from the sun, and the sweat was forming underneath her Jedi robes. She pulled her thin hood up to be over her head, but it did little with its miniature holes that failed to keep the sun from burning.

'They're aren't any speeders for hire here,' Anakin answered plainly. Sol turned to watch the man next to her and noticed his permanent scowl and squinting eyes. He wasn't pleased to be back on his home planet, and to add more insult, he was here in the fear for his mother's life. Sol refrained from asking anymore questions and focused on trudging through the dense sand.

When they reached Mos Espa, Sol was on edge. The stalls and huts that sat in clusters had their inhabitants out the front, either selling scraps or watching passbyers. Species of all kinds stalked by and there were no signs of police, surveillance, or forms of government enforcements of any kind in Mos Espa. Sol was intrigued by the stalls that sold meats that hung from hooks, but she wasn't adventurous enough to try anything. Even if she wanted to, Tatooine didn't use republican credits as a currency. It was all trading or the exchanging of illegal substances, and Sol obviously didn't carry anything of the kind. But what she did wish she could purchase, was a pouch or bottle of water.

The walk had tired her and she was sure that the walk back would be equally as draining. But everywhere she looked, there was no sign of fountains or even the selling of water. How did people survive out here, she wondered.

Following Anakin, as he seemed to know where to go without a second thought, Sol stuck close to the back of the tall young man. Most people didn't look up when they passed him, meaning that she was also ignored as she was barely a foot away from him, but the few that did, made Sol uncomfortable.

A sudden yank of Sol's arm made her stumble and sand kicked up from the scuffing of her boots. Her breath caught in her throat at the action, and she whirled around at the grip that was around her bicep. She was met with a face of dark brown that had a curled trunk for a nose. Beady eyes looked into hers and the hand around her arm could have been made out of leather for all she knew. It was rough, wrinkled, and tight, making Sol try to pull away before the species had even started talking.

The person spoke a language that Sol didn't understand. It moved its head around as it spoke, and Sol mouth hung open to make sense of what it was saying. She tried to pull away from its hand, but it tightened and began to hurt.

'I-I don't understand. Can you let go, please?' Sol tried, but the replies were unintelligible. She realised that the species was starting to pull her away from the pathway, which made her dig her shoes into the sand defiantly. Her Jedi instincts were finally audible through the panic, and Sol's eyebrows arched, her expression growing angry.