Chronicles of Atalanta (B1) | Anakin Skywalker

Chapter 2

Meira's breathe was ragged as she ran through the streets of Mos Espa. Weaving in and out of the bustling crowds of the city with adrenaline coursing through her veins, her thin legs carried her with the force of a speeder as she dashed forward. She caste a glance over her shoulder, chocolate hair flying across her face danfgerously and she made a swift exit to the left. Someone was screaming in Huttese behind her, but she did not stop running. 

"Someone get that thief!"

A smile bloomed across Meira's face, her hand tightening around a small metal part. This was just the part she and Anakin had been looking for the past week, and now they could finally finish his pod. Yes, she might have nicked if off a gambling table at a local cantina while the poor bastard was busy drinking himself to death. Besides, it could hardly be stealing if the Pod racer had conned if off a poor moisture farmer himself. 

Meira was simply evening the playing field. 

Finally it seemed as though the coast was clear. Meira slowed her pace to a walk and quickly tucked the part away in her pocket away from sight. She wiped a bead of sweat onto her rust colored tunic, her breath catching slightly in her chest from the run. A beam of light stun across her face, and Meira shielded her green eyes as she turned them up to the sky. 

What was that?

A flash of chrome had sped across the sky, catching the light of the twin suns as it pasted. Meira could have sworn it was a spacecraft. That was silly though, she thought as she finally kept walking, only rich inner rim Republic types had ships like that. And anyone from the Republic certainly did not have a reason to make their way to the desert seas of Tatooine. At least not a good one. 

Meira looked around the last corner, casting a calculated eye over the greasy crowd before disappearing back into the mist. 

... 

"Land near the outskirts." Qui-Gon's voice echoed through the cockpit as the craft ascended into the planet's atmosphere "We don't want to attract any attention."

Obi-Wan fought the urge to roll his eyes. He was certain they had already done as much when they flew over. After all, he had been unable to spot any ships even remotely like theirs in the sky or on the sands. They stuck out, and that made them a target. The spacecraft landed in a mass of golden brown, the dunes kicking up around them into a large and opaque cloud that surrounded the ship in a tornado of sand. Just beyond the ship, the city of Mos Espa bustled in the distance, ancient domes and crumbling spires climbing high in the barren sky above. Obi-wan yanked the hyperdrive from its place in the floor panel, the part sparking feebly as it was separated from its original location. A wave of anger washed through him, and Obi-Wan turned angrily to one of their passengers. 

"You're coming out there with us," he said testily to the Gungan. 

As he turned to leave, Jar Jar rushed to his feet, making variation of odd and distressed sounds.

"Obi-wan, sir, pleeese, no mesa go!" he wailed beneath Obi-wan.

"Sorry, Obi-Wans's right. You'll make things less obvious." Qui-Gon said, picking up the dejected Gungan gently and walking him into the other room.  

Jar Jar let out a depressed noise and walked back to their droid R2D2, his head hung, still muttering as he marched back down the hallway. Qui-Gon returned not long after, looking pensive as he stared out the window onto the desert landscape. Obi-Wan watched him carefully, studying his master's expressions. He was sensing something, Obi-Wan felt it too and it was troubling him deeply. Something was wrong here. 

"The Hyperdrive generator is gone. We will need a new one." Obi-wan after a moment.

Qui-Hon nodded, half listening. He moved in closer, lowering his voice an octave, "Don't let them send any transmissions. Be wary... I sense a disturbance in the Force."