Jude Watson: Jedi Quest 3: The Dangerous Games

"Anakin Skywalker," Anakin supplied. "Pleased to meet you."

"Now you're a Jedi?" Doby asked in disbelief. "And you were a slave?"

"It's a strange galaxy," Anakin said with a grin.

"Totally true," Doby agreed.

"Don't want to interrupt this getting-to-know-you gush, but we have a job to do," Deland said gruffly.

"I'll help you if you want," Anakin said spontaneously. He'd love to get his hands on a Podracer engine again, but he knew Obi-Wan would certainly disapprove.

"What's in it for you?" Deland asked suspiciously.

"Who cares?" Doby asked. "He beat Sebulba, Deland! Now we have to." He turned to Anakin. "After our father died, we had no money, so our uncle sold our sister into slavery. Djulla's master is now Sebulba. We have to get her out of his clutches! We bet our Podracer that we'd win. Sebulba bet Djulla's freedom. This time, though, he's not racing. His son Hekula is."

"I'm sorry that your sister is a slave," Anakin said. "Do you know Shmi, my mother? She's a slave, too. Or she was, when I saw her last."

Doby shook his head. "Mos Espa is full of beings. We don't know them all."

Anakin blinked as tears filled his eyes, surprising him. For a moment, Shmi had seemed so close. But she was as far away as she always was. He turned away quickly, his gaze roaming around the makeshift hangar. He didn't see Sebulba. But he did see something familiar — his old Podracer.

Could it be?

"Whose Podracer is that?" he asked, pointing it out.

"Hekula's," Deland said, giving it a glance.

Yes, it was definitely Anakin's old Podracer, a customized Radon- Ulzer. It had been painted and retooled, but he would recognize it anywhere. He knew Qui-Gon had sold the Podracer, but not to whom. Sebulba must have bought it. Anakin burned at the thought of Sebulba owning the Podracer he had built and maintained so lovingly.

A tall young Dug suddenly moved into Anakin's field of vision. "What are you looking at, spy?" he shouted.

"What I look at is not your concern," Anakin shot back.

"When it's my Podracer it is," the Dug hissed back. "Spy!"

"It's Hekula," Doby warned Anakin in a whisper. "Be careful."

Anakin looked at Sebulba's son carefully. He felt the dark side of the Force shimmer off him. He had taken after his father, that was clear.

A movement caught his eye. Another Dug had scuttled across the distance toward him.

Anakin found himself face-to-face with his old enemy, Sebulba.

Anakin's fingers itched for his lightsaber. The last time Sebulba had threatened him, he'd been just a child and untrained. Now he could dispatch Sebulba before the Dug could manage to blink.

But he saw immediately that Sebulba didn't recognize him. His gaze was hostile, but the hostility wasn't personal. He had no idea that Anakin was the young slave boy who had humiliated him in a race years before.

Anakin smiled again.

The smile infuriated Sebulba. "What are you smiling at? And how dare you bully my son!"

"He's wasn't bullying me, Father," Hekula whined in Huttese. "I am bullying him!"

"You were doing a very poor job of it," Anakin answered in Huttese.

"But that doesn't surprise me."

"How dare you!" Sebulba roared. "Prepare to die!"

Deland quickly moved between them. "Who's talking about dying?" he said in a jovial tone. "Let's save that for the Podrace. Right, Hekula? I'd worry about crashing more than spies, if I were you. I've seen you race!"

Hekula's long head thrust toward Deland. "You'll choke on my dust, son of a Raft!"

Sebulba was more clever than his son. He grinned craftily and shot a look at Djulla, who was standing by Hekula's Podracer, preparing a snack for the two Dugs. "I hope you're alive to see your sister wipe the floor under our feet," he hissed. "For the next fifty years!"

Anakin and Deland both tensed, ready to strike. In Sebulba's taunt Anakin heard every cruelty he and his mother had ever endured.

Doby grabbed the hems of Anakin's and Deland's tunics. "Just let them go," he murmured. "We'll win the race. That is our better best revenge."

Anakin saw Deland's hand clench and unclench. His own fingertips burned to slip his lightsaber from its sheath.

"Let's leave the cowards to their play," Sebulba sneered. He and Hekula slithered off, their footfalls clattering on the stony ground.

Deland wiped his oily hands with a rag viciously, as though wiping away the memory of Sebulba's taunt. "We've got to beat them. We've got to."

"He's fast," Doby said, watching Hekula and Sebulba return to their entourage. A look of pain crossed his face as Djulla handed Hekula a cup of juma juice and Hekula spat it out while shouting an insult. "He's just as cruel and dangerous as his father. Maybe more so, because he takes more chances."

Temptation loomed before Anakin. He could help Doby and Deland beat Hekula. He knew it. It was not part of his mission here. But Obi-Wan had allowed him to have free time. What better way to use it than free a slave from the grip of a harsh master?

"Sebulba taught him how to cheat, too," Deland said worriedly. "Come on, Doby. Let's get back to work."

"You can beat him." The certainty in Anakin's voice made the two brothers turn to face him. "With my help. Hekula has my old Podracer. I built it with my own hands. They may have painted it and buffed it, but I still know those engines. I know its weaknesses. I know how Sebulba cheats.

I can help you win."

Doby and Deland exchanged a glance. "We can't ask you to do that,"

Deland said.

"You're not asking."

"We can't pay you," Doby said. "All of our credits are tied up in the Podracer. We barely have enough to get home."

"I don't need credits. And I don't need thanks," Anakin said. "I just need you to win."

"So you promised me inside information," Obi-Wan said to Didi. They could not locate an air taxi, and all the Transits were full, so they had to walk to the swoop seller. Obi-Wan didn't mind. It gave him a chance to get a feeling of the streets. He reached out to the Force and received nothing alarming back.

"My son-in-law is an idiot."

"That's not exactly the kind of information I had in mind," Obi-Wan said mildly.

Didi sighed. "You'd think Astri would have more sense. Did I raise her to fall for the first tall, handsome idiot who walked through my door? I did not! Is it my fault she picked such a stiff-necked, rule-following, small-spirited, mid-Rim, mid-minded, puffed-up bonehead?"

"Well, at least he's not a criminal," Obi-Wan said. "Maybe Astri wanted a quieter life. Maybe she was tired of dealing with a rule-breaking, truth-stretching, scam-running scoundrel of a father."

"So it is my fault," Didi sniffed.

"Astri has always made her own choices, Didi. And they are hers to make. Now, you said you had insider news on the Games."

"Bog thinks that by serving on the Council for the Games, he'll get the backing of some important beings in the Senate, and that he'll be assigned important committee assignments. All he does is talk, talk, talk about how important his role is and what it will mean for his future." Didi mimicked a snore. "Honestly, I don't know how Astri stands it. His big job has been arranging the seating for some big-shot Senators. Hoo diggety-hoo.

" "Didi, you said you had information," Obi-Wan said. "This is complaining."

"I have plenty of information," Didi said. "How can I not? Bog never stops talking. But he never says anything worth listening to. Oh, look, here we are." Didi paused in front of a shop with closed durasteel shutters.

"It doesn't look open," Obi-Wan observed.

"Oh, it is. The seller just doesn't want to attract too many customers."

"Really. That doesn't sound typical."