For all the lives Anakin had taken, the betrayals he had enacted, the faith this man placed in him still shook him. It wasn't just strategy or the Force nudging fate. Qui-Gon believed. That belief was a lifeline, fragile, beautiful, and far too undeserved.
If I save him, I will alter the thread of fate. It's not just one life, but it will send thousands of ripples through the galaxy. Qui-Gon Jinn wasn't meant to survive the events of Naboo. I remember the weight of his death, the way Obi-Wan mourned him, the way it pushed him to take me in, to raise me as a Jedi without truly understanding what I was. Qui-Gon's death forged my path, but it was a flawed path from the start. If he lives… he will guide me way differently in the ways of the Force that I am seeking.
But who else suffers on that new path? What chain reaction will I set loose?
But how can I let him die again, knowing what I know? He's not like the others. He listens to the Force, not the council, not politics. He would understand the visions, the fear, and the dangers of letting the Sith grow in shadow.
He was the only one who might have believed me before it was too late. I can already feel the Force coiling around this moment like a crossroads. Save him, and I challenge destiny itself. Let him die, and I preserve the timeline… one that ends in fire and ash.
And yet, beneath all the strategy and calculation… it's not just about the future. It's about redemption. Though I was just a child, I failed him once. I stood powerless while the Sith claimed another victory. If I choose differently now, maybe it's not just Qui-Gon I'm saving.
Maybe it's a piece of myself, the part that once believed I could be something more than Vader. If there's even a chance that saving him saves Padmé, Obi-Wan, the Jedi, then how can I not take it?
He saw it clearly now. Qui-Gon's survival was not just important, it was essential. But saving his life will undoubtedly change many things. But without him, the entire path forward would have changed little. The duel with Maul must be changed. My role in that moment would be critical. He didn't know how yet, but I would not let the Jedi Master fall again.
The evening sun hung high in the darkening blue sky, beating down on Mos Espa with a dying blaze. With the change in heat across the packed sand streets, the wind started to kick up flecks of dust and the occasional gust sent coils of it swirling through the market square like little sandstorms looking for trouble.
The start of a sandstorm was coming.
Anakin stood beside Qui-Gon, Padmé trailing behind them, her brow furrowed. Jar Jar, still grumbling about sand in his gills, bumbled along as well. The deal had been struck, and there was no turning back. He was going to race.
He glanced up at the tall Jedi Master beside him. Qui-Gon walked with easy confidence, but there was tension beneath the surface now. Anakin could feel it, Qui-Gon's concern for Padmé, for the stakes of the mission, for trusting too much in a child. Yet he had chosen.
Chosen him.
And it made Anakin want to live up to it all the more.
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On Coruscant
In the dimly lit chambers of the Galactic Senate, Darth Sidious stood before a glowing red holoprojector. The air around him was heavy with darkness, the subtle scent of incense wafting through the shadows. Behind his hood, his pale face was illuminated only in brief flashes of red light. Calm, composed, and venomously patient, Sidious awaited his apprentice.
The image of Darth Maul flickered into view. The Zabrak knelt low in shadow, his red and black tattoos stark under the light of the transmission. Horns protruded like a crown from his bald head, his yellow eyes burning with ruthless focus. Clad in black robes that flowed around his slim, muscular form.
"Master," Maul intoned, voice like gravel. "I have traced the Queen's ship. It is stranded on Tatooine."
Sidious tilted his head slightly, a crooked smile creeping to his lips. "Tatooine… How fitting. A place out of reach by the Republic. Chaos breeds opportunity."
"The Jedi are with her. Qui-Gon Jinn," Maul said, barely hiding the contempt in his voice.
"That is unfortunate," Sidious murmured, "but not unexpected."
Maul leaned forward. "Shall I eliminate them?"
Sidious paused, his hands folded beneath his robes. "No, not yet."
"Observe, but do not engage. We must remain in the shadows until the time is right."Watch them. Watch the boy."
"The boy?"
"There is one among them I sense... a disturbance in the Force. Young, and…." The Sith Lord stopped himself.
"I want to know more."
Maul lowered his gaze. "As you wish."
Sidious ended the transmission and turned toward the galactic skyline. "Soon," he whispered, "All the pieces will fall into place."
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They reached the courtyard of the Skywalker home. Shmi was in the doorway, her eyes widening as she saw the strangers approach, but her attention zeroed in on Anakin. One look, and she knew.
"You made a deal," she said softly.
"Yes," Anakin said. "I'm going to race again. And if I win… we're free."
Inside her modest hovel, Shmi Skywalker stood silently, her gaze fixed on the horizon and her little Ani. The evening air was already thick with dust, but it was the weight in her chest that made it hard to breathe.
Anakin, her one and only son, was preparing for the Boonta Eve Classic podrace, a perilous event that had claimed many lives. She had always known he was special, his connections with almost everything he touched were undeniable. But the thought of him hurtling through the desert at breakneck speeds, with his life hanging in the balance, filled her with dread.
"Are you sure about this, Ani?" she asked, Shmi's expression remained unreadable. But then she stepped forward and placed a hand on Anakin's cheek, her voice trembling.
Anakin looked up to face her, his youthful face marked by determination. "I am," he said without hesitation. "I've never been more sure."
"I have to do this, Mom. It's the only way to win our freedom."
Shmi nodded slowly, her heart aching. She had always encouraged his dreams, but this felt different. The stakes were too high, the risks too great.
She crouched beside him and touched his cheek gently. "You're all I have," she said quietly. "If something happens to you, if I lose you, I won't have anything left."
Anakin took her hand in his. "Nothing will happen to me. I promise."
There was something new in his voice. Age, assurance, experience. Something no nine-year-old should carry. Shmi heard it, and though she didn't understand it, she didn't question it either. A mother's instincts recognized truths and promises before they had names.
But promises made in the heat of youth are easily broken. Shmi knew that. She had seen too many broken things on Tatooine.
She simply nodded.
Her face froze, her body still. Then she looked at Qui-Gon.
"You would bet my son's life on this?"
"No," Qui-Gon replied
With a calm and studied tone, "But I see his path through the Force. He is meant to help us. And I will do all in my power to keep him safe."
Padmé lingered near the edge of the room, arms crossed. She was studying Anakin again. Not like someone looking at a child. More like someone trying to figure out how a krayt dragon ended up in a womp rat's cage.
"You're not like other boys," she said.
Anakin turned to her. "I used to be. But… life doesn't let you stay who you were forever."
Her brow furrowed, unsettled by the maturity in his tone. "What do you mean?"
He shrugged, forcing a sheepish smile. "The outer rims changes you."
She gave him a tight nod, not entirely satisfied with the answer. But before she could press further, a deep howl of wind swept through the open doorway, carrying with it a thick veil of sand in the dying light. The sky outside was turning a dark sickly orange-gray, the kind that only meant one thing.
"A sandstorm," Shmi murmured, glancing toward the door. "A bad one."
All across Mos Espa, the streets were emptying fast, doors slamming shut and fabric canopies being ripped down as the storm rolled in like a living wall.
"We'll have to wait till morning to inspect your podracer," Qui-Gon said, his tone even, but his eyes cautious. "No sense risking equipment or lives in this."
Anakin nodded with forced patience, though part of him itched to go check the podracer anyway, storm or not. But he knew better. The winds of Tatooine weren't just strong, they were dangerous and cutting. They could strip a man's skin if caught unprotected. Instead, he turned back to them with a small smile.
"I keep it in the shop," he said. "It'll be fine till morning."
Night fell and Anakin sat on the rooftop of the hovel, staring at the stars. It was late at night and the storm died down considerably. Everyone should be fast asleep but he couldn't rest for such an important event tomorrow.
Padmé also restless saw him venture to the roof and noticing that he didn't come back she went to check on him. Sitting next to him, they both stared at the night sky, silent at first. The quiet stretched until the wind filled it.
"You really believe you'll win?" she asked.
"I have to," Anakin said.
"That's not the same thing."
He smiled faintly. "No. But it'll do."
She studied him again. "You've changed since we first saw you."
"I didn't," Anakin said quietly. "You just started looking closer."
There was a pause.
"You scare me a little," she admitted.
He nodded. "Good. The galaxy is scary. Better to face it with open eyes."
She looked down, visibly unsettled.
Anakin wanted to say more, to tell her everything. To warn her about Naboo, the Senate, the war, the future. To shield her from the pain to come. But the words caught in his throat as he gazed at her youthful beauty.
Even if he could change the future, what right did he have to do so recklessly?
He stood. "Get some rest. Big day tomorrow."
She stayed seated, watching him go.
That night, Anakin dreamed.
He stood on Naboo, beside a lake, with Padmé was there, laughing. Shmi too, in clean robes, her hands free. Obi-Wan was older, smiling beside him. And in the distance, Luke and Leia, still children, ran toward him and waved from a field of flowers.
It was a dream. One he didn't want to wake from.
But suddenly, the laughter and joy turned slowly into a distorted cry and pain. The ground was broken and lit with lava and flames.
Luke and Leia cried as they fell into the fiery cracks, begging for help. Padme and Shmi lay motionless and cold on the floor as lava approached them. Running out and trying to save them, he froze as his surroundings changed, and everyone was gone.
Turning around, he stood in the middle of a lava river. Looking up he can see his former master, Obi-Wan, on the edge of the cliff with a lightsaber at the ready and guilt in his eyes.
He was back on Mustafar.
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The Next Day
As the first light of twin suns pierced through the retreating clouds of dust, the streets of Mos Espa slowly emerged from the storm's grip, blanketed in a fresh layer of sand. The air was cool for once, the city still half-asleep beneath the wind-carved silence. Anakin woke up in cold sweat.
"Not again.." he whispered beneath his breath as he had another vision.
He stepped outside, trying to collect his thoughts while scanning the damage to their house. His home stood intact, just barely.
"We'll need to inspect your podracer," Qui-Gon repeated from behind him, his voice more urgent now. "If it's going to fly today, it has to be ready."
"Come on…" Anakin gestured, his boots crunching over sand. "It's this way."
The group followed him back through the alleys to Watto's garage. The garage doors creaked as he pushed them open, revealing his podracer beneath a half-collapsed tarp, now heavy with sand and dust. Anakin yanked the tarp off with a practiced motion.
Qui-Gon blinked, then tilted his head. "You built this yourself?"
"Yep," Anakin said proudly. "From scrap parts Watto said were worthless."
He stood beside his podracer running diagnostics. Every system, every coil, every stabilizer had been double-checked. I know Sebulba would try to cheat again. But this time I would be prepared.
It looked almost identical to his original design, but stronger now. He had reinforced the repulsorlift coil mounts with modified bracers and restructured the cockpit's power junctions to increase responsiveness. He retrofitted the engine with redundant plasma coils and reinforced the ventral housing to withstand heat flare damage.
He modified the power cell relay to handle higher surges, installed a heat-dispersal system using scavenged droid coolant lines, and recalibrated the repulsorlift balance with precision.
He installed a custom failsafe override and a manual kill switch that could reroute power through the backup thrusters. Every improvement whispered one truth in the back of his mind, control.
This time, he knew what would fail. And he made sure it didn't.
It was the same podracer, just matured, like him.
Qui-Gon ran a hand along the curved edge of the cockpit. "We'll need to test it."
"No need to," Anakin said. "I can promise you that all is working in top shape."
I would know this because I put it through countless stress tests against the sand dunes of Tatooine nights before you all arrived.
"You're not afraid?"
Anakin looked him in the eye. "Not of the race."
Not anymore. He had already survived much worse.
Qui-Gon studied him for a long moment, then gave a slight nod. "Then we begin preparations."
The rest of the day passed in a blur of motion and memory.
Anakin worked tirelessly hours before the race, fine-tuning the podracer and putting the final touches.
Jar Jar, of course, was less help than hindrance. He nearly got electrocuted twice and managed to knock over a rack of spare coils, earning a sharp warning from Shmi and a death glare from Anakin.
Padmé, however, watched closely. She helped where she could, passing tools, steadying parts. But it was clear she was trying to understand him. The way he moved, the way he thought. His manner didn't match his age.
Was she the only one noticing it?!
Even Qui-Gon had begun to study him not as a boy, but as something else.
Someone else.
"Your connection to the Force is… unusual," the Jedi said that evening as Anakin recalibrated the stabilizers. "It feels… focused. Like you already know what you're doing."
Anakin didn't look up. "I listen."
"To what?"
"To everything. The engines. The sand. The sky. It's all just a feeling I have, an instinct."
Qui-Gon watched him for a long time. "You're more than just gifted. You're aware."
Anakin finally turned his head. "I've had a lot of time to think."
That, at least, wasn't a lie.