Star Wars - Episode I Journal - Anakin Skywalker Read online

  Qui-Gon explained that they were on a secret mission. But their ship was damaged and they’d had to land on Tatooine while they searched for parts. They would stay only as long as it took to repair the ship.

  The problem was they didn’t have the money to get the parts. Qui-Gon had plenty of Republic credits. But those were useless to Watto.

  All of a sudden I had a great idea. The Boonta Eve Classic Podrace was in two days, and I knew I could win it. If Qui-Gon would enter me in the race, the prize money would pay for the parts they needed—and more!

  Mom got upset because she hated when I raced Pods. And Padmé and Qui-Gon both agreed that they would try to find another way to get the money—one that didn’t involve me having to risk my life.

  But I wouldn’t give up that easily. I reminded Mom of what she’d said so many times: that of all the problems in the universe, the biggest one was that people didn’t help each other.

  Mom started to shake her head, but then stopped. Our eyes locked. Without words, just using thoughts, I tried to tell her how important this was to me. That somehow, deep inside, I knew I had to race.

  And then the most amazing thing happened. Mom turned to Padmé and Qui-Gon and said I was right. There was no other way to get the kind of money they needed. The only way was to let me race. She said she didn’t like it, but that this was what I was meant to do.

  Fourth Entry

  We Prepare for the Race

  There was still a lot to be done before I could race. First we had to scrape together the entry fee to get into the Boonta Classic. We waited until the next morning and then returned to the junk shop where Qui-Gon tried to make a deal with Watto.

  That’s when I knew how serious Qui-Gon’s problems really were. To get the entry fee, he offered his ship.

  Even Watto was smart enough to see what a great bargain Qui-Gon was offering him. If I won the race, Watto would get to keep everything except the parts Qui-Gon needed. If I lost the race, Watto got himself a Nubian starship.

  Watto agreed, and we hurried back to my house to get my Pod ready for the race. Padmé, Jar Jar, and Artoo-Detoo all pitched in. As we worked, I noticed Qui-Gon speaking quietly with my mom. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but from the looks on their faces and the way they kept glancing at me, I could tell it was serious.

  Then the Jedi shook his head and Mom turned away with a sad look on her face. What was going on?

  We kept working on the Podracer. It was so wizard! Two huge Radon-Ulzer turbines connected to a small trailing Pod by steelton control cables. You sit in the racer behind these monster engines and try to steer at speeds that can tear the hair right off your head. But for all its power and speed, the Podracer is an amazingly delicate machine. One nasty scrape against a rock formation or another racer, and you could disappear in a flaming bath of rocket fuel.

  Some of my friends came over, including my best friend, Kitster. When I told them I was going to enter my Podracer in the Boonta Classic, everyone except Kitster laughed. They knew I’d been working on it for a long time. They also knew I’d never even gotten the engines running.

  The others went off to play ball, but Kitster stayed behind, curious to see if I could actually get the Podracer to work.

  In my heart I knew today was the day. I could feel it. And when Qui-Gon gave me the power charge I needed, I got into the Podracer and inserted it.

  I held my breath… and hit the ignition switch.

  VARROOOOMMMM! The turbines roared to life. Red and pink energy binders flashed between the engine casings, and orange flames burst from the afterburners.

  Kitster smiled. Padmé and the others cheered. I sat in the Pod, feeling the vibrations from those powerful turbines.

  Boy, did it feel good.

  But the job wasn’t finished, and we worked straight into the night. And when we living creatures were too tired to work anymore, the astromech droid Artoo-Detoo kept right on going, throwing on a final coat of paint. By then it was way past my bedtime and Mom was hinting that I’d better get some sleep.

  I agreed to stop for the night. But before I went to bed, I sat on the porch. I looked at all the stars in the night sky, and wondered which, if any, I would someday visit. Qui-Gon was dabbing some blood off a place where I’d cut myself. I was so busy imagining what it would be like to go out and visit all those systems that I almost didn’t notice when he scraped some of my blood onto a comlink chip.

  When I asked him what he was doing, he said he was simply checking for infections. I suspected there was another reason. But I knew that whatever it was, he wasn’t going to tell me.

  That night I had a new dream. I was someone powerful—like a Jedi Knight, but different. I was in a place I’d never seen before. A shadowy place. Padmé was there, but she seemed distant—older, and sadder. She was wearing battle dress, and while she still seemed delicate and perfect, she was also strong and determined.

  She was leading a huge army into battle. And that was strange, too. I couldn’t tell which side I was on.

  When I woke in the morning, Padmé was there. I told her about the dream. She shook her head and said she hoped it wouldn’t come true because she hated fighting.

  Even though it was only a dream, I could tell that she took it seriously. As if somewhere inside her, she knew what I knew—that my dreams weren’t just my imagination. That there was truth in them.

  And sometimes that truth was frightening.

  We went back to work on my Pod. Soon my friend Kitster showed up with two eopies. Those long-snouted pack animals would pull my Pod’s turbines to the race arena out in the desert. I uncoupled the engines and hitched one behind each eopie. Artoo-Detoo would pull the Pod.

  Kitster rode on one of the eopies while Padmé and I rode the other. I’d put on the jumpsuit Mom had sewn for me. As we slowly made our way through Mos Espa and toward the race arena, I tried to keep my mind on the race.

  We got to the hangar where a dozen crews were preparing their racers. Good mechanics are hard to find out here. I never saw so many creatures pretending they knew what they were doing. One team had mounted their engines backward! Qui-Gon was already there, talking to Watto. Because of the clamor echoing through the hangar, I couldn’t hear what they were talking about. But when Watto left he made a crack to me that I should warn Qui-Gon to stop betting before he ended up a slave, too.

  Of course, when I asked Qui-Gon about it, he said he’d tell me later.

  We got to work recoupling the engines to my racer. All around us the goofy crews of pit droids prepared their Podracers. Hydrospanners clanged against metal and delicate instruments fell to the floor with a crash. Nervous drivers screamed in frustration. The tension was understandable. The law of Podracing is unforgiving: Once the race begins, few will finish, and many will die trying.

  It wasn’t long before it was time to take the racers into the race arena. The arena is lined with viewing stands where the spectators gather to watch and bet. The turnout is always large because everyone loves to watch Podraces. Excitement is rare on Tatooine. On race days the crowded streets of Mos Espa are empty.

  The race starts in the arena, then goes out into the desert canyons, then returns to the arena. Before it starts the racers bow to the “royal box.” This was ridiculous. Jabba the Hutt, the biggest slime in the galaxy, sat in that box. And we had to bow as if he was some kind of king. The king of the crooks, maybe.

  I knew if I lost the race, Qui-Gon, Padmé, and the others might be stuck on Tatooine for a long time. And when you were young and pretty on Tatooine, it wasn’t long before you belonged to Jabba. To imagine Padmé chained like a slave made my blood boil.

  I was distracted by the cheering when Sebulba’s name was announced. He was considered the best Podracer on Tatooine, and everyone was betting on him to win the Boonta Classic again. And where was Sebulba? Hanging around near my racer. I gave him a warning look and he backed away, but not before he told me that I wouldn’t live to see the end of the
race.

  It was time to begin.

  If I said I wasn’t nervous, I’d be lying. But I also knew I could do it. I’d raced against most of these creatures before. As long as my Podracer stayed in one piece and I kept away from Sebulba I could beat them all.

  I put on my old helmet and goggles. Strapping my restraining belt down in the racer, I looked up at Qui-Gon’s face. He asked if I was ready, and I told him I was. Then he told me to concentrate on each moment. He said not to think, but to trust my instincts.

  Then he said, “May the Force be with you.” And that’s when I realized that as far as he was concerned, this wasn’t just a race. It was also a test. Of me.

  Fifth Entry

  The Race of My Life

  We started our engines. And let me tell you, there’s no sound like it. The roar of a dozen Podracers is so loud it hurts your ears. It’s like sticking your head inside a hyperdrive motivator. For me, that sound is pure adrenaline. It makes me want to go fast and win.

  The starting light turned green and I pushed hard on my racer’s thruster bars. The Podracers around me surged ahead in a pack…

  Meanwhile, with a sickening cough, my turbines went dead.

  I sat there in the cloud of exhaust and dust as the other Podracers shot away from the starting line. I think that for a split second I was in shock.

  Sebulba! All at once I knew he’d sabotaged my engines. But it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was getting back into the race.

  I hit the starter again… and again. Tense seconds passed as I waited anxiously to see if the Radon-Ulzers would catch. Finally, with a sputter, they did.

  I was off. Of course, I was way behind, but maybe that worked in my favor. Ahead I watched Sebulba’s bright orange racer and Mawhonic’s Pod go neck and neck into the first turn by the rock formations. Mawhonic didn’t know what he was up against. If I’d had a comlink, I might have tried to warn him.

  Too late. Sebulba veered into Mawhonic, sending him straight into the rocks. Ka-boom! Even at the back of the race I could hear the explosion as Mawhonic vanished in a huge ball of flame.

  I know it must sound crazy, but all I wanted to do was catch up to the creature who’d just killed Mawhonic.

  But first I had to pass the rest of the pack. Gasgano was the first challenge I faced. He was running a new ord pedrovia, which is really fast and agile. I tried to pass him, but he cut me off. Again and again I tried, but it wasn’t until we dropped down off a mesa cliff that I put a move on him and slipped by.

  Pang! Out of nowhere, something hit the back of my Podracer and made me swerve.

  What the…?

  Then I saw them—four Tusken Raiders hiding in the canyon dune turn! They were cheering and dancing with delight. One of them must have gotten lucky with his projectile rifle and hit my racer.

  I gritted my teeth and shot past them.

  Ka-boom! I heard another explosion and saw Sebulba racing away from a second huge ball of flame and smoke along the canyon wall. I didn’t see what happened, but I knew that Xelbree had been trying to catch him a few moments before.

  And now Xelbree was gone.

  Ka-boom! Ody Mandrell cut too low over a dune and crashed. Now he was gone, too.

  I felt a shiver. When you lost in this race, you lost everything… including your life.

  The first lap was over. I told myself to be patient as I worked my way through the pack. Coming through the Arch Canyon for the second time, I was three hundred meters behind Teemto Pugales of Moonus Mandel when his racer suddenly exploded in a bright orange ball of fire.

  Just like that, Teemto was gone, too.

  By the beginning of the third lap I was in third place behind Sebulba and Terter. Obitoki and Habba Kee were right behind me. Terter was cagey enough to stay off Sebulba’s tail, which was always a bad place to be. But as they came up through Jag Crag Gorge, Terter tried to sneak a move that brought him too close. I knew what Sebulba was going to do even before he did it.

  Thwank! Sebulba jettisoned a part. Terter couldn’t avoid it. One of his engines sucked the part in and Terter veered right into me!

  Whoa! The next thing I knew, my racer was out of control. Terter’s vertical stabilizer had snagged the steelton line to my left engine, unhooking the main binding. Obitoki, Elan Mak, and Habba Kee slipped past while I whipped all over the sky, fighting to get my Podracer back under control.

  To be honest, I thought I was a goner. Flying a Podracer with a loose engine is like hitching a ride on a comet. I figured if I didn’t crash, I’d probably be pulled out into the upper atmosphere and freeze to death.

  The other danger came from the loose steelton line. Flying free, it could snag a rock outcropping and swing me right into oblivion at any moment.

  I kept fighting for control, working the stabilizer pedals with my feet—using the magnetic retriever to try and grab the loose line. But my Podracer was swinging wildly. It seemed hopeless until I remembered Qui-Gon’s advice: Feel. Don’t think. Trust your instincts.

  By then I figured I had nothing to lose…

  I focused. Stabilize. Catch the steelton line. Focus!

  I stopped thinking about it and just reacted.

  And then I did something I’d never done before. As the Podracer swung toward the loose line, I reached out with the magnetic retriever and managed to grab it. An instant later I rehooked the line to the left Radon-Ulzer.

  Suddenly I was back in control.

  But this was the last lap and I’d lost valuable time. Would I still be able to catch up?

  I passed Elan Mak.

  Ka-boom! Ahead, Obitoki disappeared in flames and smoke. Sebulba had flashed him with his side vents, the same move he’d used on me in our last race, only I’d managed to crash-land and walk away.

  Ka-boom! Blinded by the bright blast of Obitoki’s racer, Habba Kee crashed.

  That left Sebulba and me.

  I came up on his side. Sebulba might have had a lot of dirty tricks, but he didn’t have a lot of imagination about using them. He knew flashing his side vents had worked once before on me. I had a feeling he’d try it again.

  He did! My Podracer was forced onto the service ramp for a moment. Then I came right back. With a controlled thrust I ducked inside and took the lead!

  Now Sebulba was behind me in second place! Boy, I wished I could have seen his face!

  Crunk! The jarring jolt from behind caught me by surprise. Sebulba was taking out his frustrations by butting me. Now he was tight on my tail. He knew I wouldn’t let him get past me, so instead he chose to crowd me and push, trying to send me out of control.

  And that was a big problem, because it could work! It’s hard enough to maneuver those turns at top speed without having someone bumping you from behind.

  Sebulba kept pushing me and I kept fighting him off. My control board flickered. Something had been knocked loose and was shorting out.

  Poo doo! It flickered again. I knew I’d have to switch to the auxiliary, but to do that meant backing off the RPMs. The electronics couldn’t handle the jolt of switching at flat-out thrust.

  It took less than a second to make the switch. But that was all Sebulba needed to retake the lead.

  Last lap. Last turn. Last chance. A Nubian spacecraft was a lot to lose, and I had a feeling that was only the beginning of Qui-Gon’s problems. I tried every move I knew to get past Sebulba. But either he’d gotten smarter during the race or he was just lucky, because he managed to keep me behind him.

  Feel. Don’t think. Trust your instincts. As we came out of the final turn, I put one last fake on him.

  It worked! Suddenly we were side by side in the final stretch.

  Crunk! Sebulba slammed his racer sideways into mine, trying to knock me off course.

  Crunk! He did it again.

  It took every bit of strength I had to keep my Podracer under control.

  Crunk! Again! He was crazy! Smashing our racers together like this could hurt him as much as it
could hurt me.

  Crunk! This time when he slammed into me, we didn’t bounce apart. I looked over the side and saw why. Our steering rods had gotten caught on each other!

  In his Pod, Sebulba was frowning at me. If we crossed the finish line together, we’d tie. Neither of us wanted that. We both wanted to win.

  I had to get loose!

  Leaning as hard as I could on my racer’s steering arm, I slammed my thruster bars back and forth, trying to break away from Sebulba’s racer. Meanwhile we were screaming down the final stretch at top speed.

  I pushed the steering arm harder.

  Harder!

  HARDER!

  Snap! It broke!

  Just before we burst apart, I caught a glimpse of incredible surprise on Sebulba’s face. Then I was spinning wildly and pumping my stabilizers to straighten out.

  A few moments later my racer limped through a cloud of black smoke and crossed the finish line. The smoke was coming from Sebulba’s engines, which had exploded when his Podracer crashed into an ancient statue. I don’t know how he managed to survive that crash, but he did.

  Only he didn’t win the Boonta Classic.

  I did.

  I slowed to a stop and just sat there in my racer, so tired that I couldn’t even reach up to undo my straps. My face was wet with gritty sweat. My ears were filled with the hiss of the cooling turbines and the roar of the cheering crowd. The twin suns glared down out of the cloudless sky, glinting off the Radon-Ulzers. My race… my win… my dream…

  Kitster was reaching into the Pod and undoing my straps. I looked up into his proud, smiling face. His lips moved but I couldn’t hear his words over the roar. Hands were picking me up and the next thing I knew, I was being carried toward the royal box by a crowd of cheering fans.

  I’d done it.

  I’d won.