It was supposed to be another day of working as Watto demanded. Instead, he is swallowed by the sands and meets a wizard who calls himself a sorcerer and doesn't know who the Jedi are. Now, he has to make a choice.
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Anakin Skywalker : Sorcerer Supreme
- Thread starter Samael61
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Chapter 1 - Beneath the Sands
New
Samael61
Not too sore, are you?
- Joined
- Apr 6, 2025
- Messages
- 342
- Likes received
- 16,540
Hello there,
If you enjoy my stories, you can read up to 15 chapters in advance per story on my Patreon page / patreon.com/Samael61.
Anakin Skywalker is on the path to become one of the greatest figures on the galactic scene. If you want to read an original story of greatness, you can check my story, Arrival : Ruptures. Comments, likes and reviews are appreciated. Here are the links for : AO3, Spacebattles, Royal Road and Webnovel.
—
Tatooine
Mos Espa
In a galaxy far, far away, there lived a boy with special circumstances.
"Boy! Come with me. I found salvage in the desert," his owner, a grubby Toydarian named Watto, screamed.
Anakin followed wordlessly, wiping the lubricant on his hands onto a rag. His special circumstance was the slave tracking device implanted below his collarbone. Should he disobey or try to escape, one press of a button would kill him.
He got on the cargo landspeeder. The patched-together vehicle, something he had worked on for many years as far as he could remember, lumbered out of the junkyard. Whatever salvage Watto found in the sands must be valuable enough for the Toydarian to risk leaving Mos Espa's safety.
He crouched inside the cargo pod, safe from the sand and the twin suns to a degree.
He hated all of this. The sand, the heat, but most of all, being a slave.
He was broken out of his thoughts when the speeder stopped. "We are here. Be quick." He held on to the ledge, letting his feet touch the ground. He walked to Watto, inspecting the salvage. It was a freighter, Corellian by the looks of it, and in far better condition than most ships on Tatooine.
Half sticking out of the sands with the boarding ramp buried beneath, it must have come to the surface by sheer luck.
"See what we can take," Watto grumbled, activating the droids he had rented. The boy was too young to carry anything heavy. A prized mechanic like him was worth far more in good health than otherwise.
Anakin nodded, walking inside. The hyperspace driver, the engines, any weapons, and the shield generators—they were the most important parts. If any were in working or reparable condition, Watto would earn good.
He trudged through the sand to the bridge to see if the ship was in working condition. If it could be flown to the junkyard, even better.
A mound of sand was in his way. He couldn't go around it and had no choice but to clear it. Pushing the sand aside with his hands, he cleared it enough to walk over.
It proved to be a mistake.
His right foot touched the surface without a problem. When he raised his left to move forward, the pressure caused the sand beneath to give away. He sank halfway to his chest. He tried to pull himself out, but the only thing his short arms could reach was sand. He yelled Watto's name, asking for help.
"Boy, what is happening there?!" Watto came in, his wings allowing him to fly over the sand. He saw Anakin get swallowed by the sands, his large eyes widening. He rushed to save his slave, catching the boy's hands. He tried to pull him up, grunting, but he was not strong enough.
Then, his hands slipped.
The sweat gathered in the boy's calloused hands made Watto lose his grip. He flew back, out of control, and hit his head on the ceiling. His vision went dark for a couple of seconds. He shook his head, flying forward to catch the boy's arms again, which were the only parts visible. Just as he closed his fingers around Anakin's wrists, the sand sucked him in.
"No!" Watto slammed a fist on the sand. He tried to dig the mound, to hopefully save the boy, but it was of no use.
—
Anakin screamed.
He was sliding down with the sand through a hole. Sand flew into his mouth, cutting his screams. He gagged, trying to spit it out. He covered his face with his hands, shouting for his mom.
He did not see the open window in front of him.
He flew through the opening, hitting feet-first into a mound of sand. He blinked, screams stopping for a moment. He started again when more sand flew through the hole, burying the upper half of his body.
He pushed through, spluttering and blinking rapidly as sand got everywhere. He rubbed his eyes, stumbled around, and hit his head on a wall. He opened his bleary eyes, seeing a pair of legs in front of him.
Raising his head, he screamed at what he saw, turning around to run.
Only to hit his head again and pass out.
—
When he came to his senses, it was on soft ground. Softer than his bed, anyway. He quickly checked his body for any wounds. There was a cloth wrapped around his head, and trying to pull it hurt. His dress was gone, replaced with a black material, loose and just as soft as the bed.
The grime and dirt stuck on him were gone as well.
He looked around, trying to understand where he was. The walls of the room were wooden with a warm brown color. The furniture was of the same material, confusing him further.
Were these brought from another planet? Did that freighter have all this inside it?
He went for the door, waiting for it to slide open. When it did not, he pushed on it, trying to see if it was stuck. He reached for the large, oval button, pressing to see if it would open the door.
Once again, nothing happened.
Anakin scowled, wrapping his little fingers around the button, accidentally turning it to the side while pulling. The door clicked open, moving slightly inside the room. He scratched his head, wondering who used these kinds of doors.
He checked the outside. The corridor was built with more of that material. The lights were not electric, burning with something he could not see.
He had to find his way back to his mom.
Deciding to brave this unknown place, he left the room, walking through the hallways, seeking an exit.
"Hello there," a voice came, saying words he had never heard before. It wasn't basic or Huttese, an entirely foreign language. He turned around, stumbling back, and screamed again. The alien before him had multiple cracks going through his face and body, leaking a thick, dark liquid.
Anakin ran.
He found another room and dove in, hiding beneath covers on the bed. That person looked sick, like he was dead and had a third eye on his forehead.
He was hiding, thinking what his mother would do. When the door creaked open, he moved back to the edge of the bed, his back touching the wall. Only a hand came out of the door, laying a metal tray on the ground. He closed the door again and left.
He peeked his head out of the blanket, glancing at the tray. It was hot and steaming, with a small, red and golden mound in one part; thick, white-green slices of something in another; a mix of reds and greens in the last; and a packet with round orange objects painted on it.
His stomach grumbled.
Stuck between thinking whether this was one of the traps his mother mentioned and his hunger, Anakin waited. Ultimately, his stomach won. He left his hiding spot, tiptoeing to the tray in case the alien was waiting behind the door. Eyes on the door, he snatched the tray and walked back to his bed.
He took the fork, poking what looked like pale worms strung together. He brought the utensil on a single strand, cutting it to reveal non-fleshy bits. Deciding it was safe, he stabbed the mound with the fork. However, the strands were too thin.
Instead, he gently pushed the fork in and twirled it. The strands wrapped around the fork, and he took it to his mouth. When the taste exploded in his mouth, he groaned, eyes almost rolling to the back of his head.
This was the tastiest food he had ever eaten.
He dove into the dish, eating as if it would disappear any second. He was careless, however, and had a hard time swallowing the morsel. He slowed down, deciding to taste the other foods on the tray. The thick slices were crunchy and sweet, while the mix of red and greens was his least favorite. They were still better than most food he had eaten, though.
He took the packet into his hand, noticing a white, metallic spot and a see-through tube. He took the tube, which was just the size to fit the metallic circle. He pushed through, and it went in easily.
He took a sip.
An orange, really sweet liquid hit his tongue, burning it slightly. The taste was, once again, nothing like he ever ate before. He kept drinking, feeling the cold drink wash down his throat.
When the tray was empty and he felt his stomach fuller than any time before, he fell asleep.
—
He woke up to a strange feeling. The sound of Watto screaming at him to get to work wasn't here. Neither was his gentle nudging. He didn't feel hungry or tired.
He did not know how to describe it.
He looked at the door, seeing another tray laid out. This one had two white circles with orange parts in the middle, bright orange slices, what looked to be bread, and a red, thick paste and a large cup of water.
He didn't feel too hungry, but free food was free food.
—
Done with his breakfast, he set out to find the alien who had given him all that food. Certainly, no one who could hand out delicious food like that without asking something in return couldn't be bad.
He walked through the hallways once again. The owner seemed to be the only person in this house. He hung his head down, knowing a lot of families could be housed here.
The door at the end of the hallway opened. He got a clear look at the alien. He was surprisingly like a human, dressed in black clothing. He wore a robe over a tunic, kept together by sashes; black pants and boots; and an equally black cloak behind that seemed to be floating as if it were in zero gravity.
He had a mustache, a beard, and clean, short hair.
"Hello," the alien said, waving a hand.
Anakin waved back, but the words made no sense to him once more. "I don't understand," he said, hoping the alien might speak basic or Huttese. Instead, he tilted his head to the side.
The alien spoke again, this time in a clearly different language, before switching to others. He picked up at least seven or eight different languages, all of them sounding foreign to him. He watched the alien with a blank face. His host laid a hand on his short, neat beard, putting his fingers over his chest.
"Stephen Strange," he said, repeating it several times. He quickly caught on that the alien was introducing himself.
"Anakin Skywalker," he replied, pointing at himself.
The alien nodded, turning around and waving his hand. He followed, keeping a distance regardless. The alien took him to a place with shelves filled to the brim with paper books. He had seen several before, but never this many in one place.
His host walked to a certain shelf, searching for a book. He opened one in the middle, turning to him while reading through another language.
"He must be smart to know so much," he thought, tilting his head at what the alien was doing.
His eyes widened and he considered escaping when a golden circle appeared on the man's left hand while he continued to read. When the golden circle appeared over him, he tried to bat it away. His hands harmlessly passed through. Then, it suddenly flew at him.
He jumped on the ground, covering his head.
"Sorry for the scare, kid," the alien replied. Anakin raised his head, looking at the alien finally speaking a language he could understand.
"What did you do?" he asked, patting his body for any wounds.
"A simple translation spell."
"Spell? Like magic?" Was he a Jedi?! Did he somehow manage to get stuck beneath the sands?! Did the freighter belong to him?!
He was positively jumping on his place. He had always wanted to meet a Jedi. Maybe they had finally come to free the slaves.
"The correct term is sorcery, but yes. Have you seen any before?"
"No. I only heard the Jedi could do things like this."
Strange's brows creased. "The Jedi?"
Anakin's face fell. "They are heroes who carry laser swords. They can do magic too."
"I am afraid I never heard of them. Which country are they from?" Strange asked, stroking his beard.
"Country? Do you mean planet? They are from Coruscant."
"Wait, wait, back up." Strange raised a hand. "These Jedi are from another planet?"
"Yes?" How could he not know Coruscant? Everyone knew the capital of the Galactic Republic.
"How is that possible?" he asked after a moment.
"With hyperdrives. Everyone with enough credits can buy a ship and travel."
Strange knelt, putting both hands on his shoulders. "Anakin, which planet are we on right now?"
"In Tatooine, a desert world with two suns."
"Oh."
Doctor Strange's eyes became unfocused, and he fell silent.
—
Anakin's head hurt. Not from the pain of slamming it hard enough to knock himself out, but from everything Doctor Strange just told him.
He was from Earth, the planet where humans evolved. He did not know Tatooine or any of the planets and races he encountered. His explanation was confusing. Apparently, Doctor Strange was from another dimension. He had arrived on Tatooine by accident while trying to save his world.
He still believed he was under the sands of one of the deserts in his world.
He understood the different dimensions a bit from studying hyperdrives. What he did not understand was the idea of different universes. Strange was kind enough to take the time to explain.
It still was confusing.
"This explains so many things. I thought I would have been found by now. I had begun to lose hope. Only to know it was all for nothing," he said, rubbing his eyes. Anakin saw the same black liquid seeping from his wounds come out of his eyes too.
He realized the man was crying.
Whenever Anakin cried, his mother always made him feel better with a hug. Deciding to do as she did, he hugged Doctor Strange. The man froze for a second, feeling the short arms wrap halfway around him.
He gently patted the boy's back, letting his tears fall freely.
—
In Mos Espa, a slave owner had just broken the news to his last remaining slave. The woman's son was dead, swallowed by the sands. His slave tracking device had gone offline, which only happened if it was detonated or the wearer died.
He could not stand her cries and left her quarters to seek a new slave. The boy was a gifted mechanic, an expensive commodity. He was lucky enough to earn him and his mother from Gardulla in a bet.
The Hutt was sure enough to bet them, but not many would be. He would have to spend a lot of peggats to buy a new one.
At least he had managed to get the freighter working with the droids.
—
Notes: Here is the first chapter of Anakin Skywalker: Sorcerer Supreme.
I know him eating food from another universe would present gut issues, probably. To avoid having to write our first couple of chapters as a health emergency, I decided to skip that. For those who enjoy these details, you can think of it as a force intervening if you want.
As for the slave tracking device, Sanctum has defenses against technology, which stop the device from going off or letting Watto know Anakin is alive.
As there are two chapters, which I am posting right now, there won't be any advanced chapters on my Patreon until next Friday.
If you enjoy my stories, you can read up to 15 chapters in advance per story on my Patreon page / patreon.com/Samael61.
Anakin Skywalker is on the path to become one of the greatest figures on the galactic scene. If you want to read an original story of greatness, you can check my story, Arrival : Ruptures. Comments, likes and reviews are appreciated. Here are the links for : AO3, Spacebattles, Royal Road and Webnovel.
—
Tatooine
Mos Espa
In a galaxy far, far away, there lived a boy with special circumstances.
"Boy! Come with me. I found salvage in the desert," his owner, a grubby Toydarian named Watto, screamed.
Anakin followed wordlessly, wiping the lubricant on his hands onto a rag. His special circumstance was the slave tracking device implanted below his collarbone. Should he disobey or try to escape, one press of a button would kill him.
He got on the cargo landspeeder. The patched-together vehicle, something he had worked on for many years as far as he could remember, lumbered out of the junkyard. Whatever salvage Watto found in the sands must be valuable enough for the Toydarian to risk leaving Mos Espa's safety.
He crouched inside the cargo pod, safe from the sand and the twin suns to a degree.
He hated all of this. The sand, the heat, but most of all, being a slave.
He was broken out of his thoughts when the speeder stopped. "We are here. Be quick." He held on to the ledge, letting his feet touch the ground. He walked to Watto, inspecting the salvage. It was a freighter, Corellian by the looks of it, and in far better condition than most ships on Tatooine.
Half sticking out of the sands with the boarding ramp buried beneath, it must have come to the surface by sheer luck.
"See what we can take," Watto grumbled, activating the droids he had rented. The boy was too young to carry anything heavy. A prized mechanic like him was worth far more in good health than otherwise.
Anakin nodded, walking inside. The hyperspace driver, the engines, any weapons, and the shield generators—they were the most important parts. If any were in working or reparable condition, Watto would earn good.
He trudged through the sand to the bridge to see if the ship was in working condition. If it could be flown to the junkyard, even better.
A mound of sand was in his way. He couldn't go around it and had no choice but to clear it. Pushing the sand aside with his hands, he cleared it enough to walk over.
It proved to be a mistake.
His right foot touched the surface without a problem. When he raised his left to move forward, the pressure caused the sand beneath to give away. He sank halfway to his chest. He tried to pull himself out, but the only thing his short arms could reach was sand. He yelled Watto's name, asking for help.
"Boy, what is happening there?!" Watto came in, his wings allowing him to fly over the sand. He saw Anakin get swallowed by the sands, his large eyes widening. He rushed to save his slave, catching the boy's hands. He tried to pull him up, grunting, but he was not strong enough.
Then, his hands slipped.
The sweat gathered in the boy's calloused hands made Watto lose his grip. He flew back, out of control, and hit his head on the ceiling. His vision went dark for a couple of seconds. He shook his head, flying forward to catch the boy's arms again, which were the only parts visible. Just as he closed his fingers around Anakin's wrists, the sand sucked him in.
"No!" Watto slammed a fist on the sand. He tried to dig the mound, to hopefully save the boy, but it was of no use.
—
Anakin screamed.
He was sliding down with the sand through a hole. Sand flew into his mouth, cutting his screams. He gagged, trying to spit it out. He covered his face with his hands, shouting for his mom.
He did not see the open window in front of him.
He flew through the opening, hitting feet-first into a mound of sand. He blinked, screams stopping for a moment. He started again when more sand flew through the hole, burying the upper half of his body.
He pushed through, spluttering and blinking rapidly as sand got everywhere. He rubbed his eyes, stumbled around, and hit his head on a wall. He opened his bleary eyes, seeing a pair of legs in front of him.
Raising his head, he screamed at what he saw, turning around to run.
Only to hit his head again and pass out.
—
When he came to his senses, it was on soft ground. Softer than his bed, anyway. He quickly checked his body for any wounds. There was a cloth wrapped around his head, and trying to pull it hurt. His dress was gone, replaced with a black material, loose and just as soft as the bed.
The grime and dirt stuck on him were gone as well.
He looked around, trying to understand where he was. The walls of the room were wooden with a warm brown color. The furniture was of the same material, confusing him further.
Were these brought from another planet? Did that freighter have all this inside it?
He went for the door, waiting for it to slide open. When it did not, he pushed on it, trying to see if it was stuck. He reached for the large, oval button, pressing to see if it would open the door.
Once again, nothing happened.
Anakin scowled, wrapping his little fingers around the button, accidentally turning it to the side while pulling. The door clicked open, moving slightly inside the room. He scratched his head, wondering who used these kinds of doors.
He checked the outside. The corridor was built with more of that material. The lights were not electric, burning with something he could not see.
He had to find his way back to his mom.
Deciding to brave this unknown place, he left the room, walking through the hallways, seeking an exit.
"Hello there," a voice came, saying words he had never heard before. It wasn't basic or Huttese, an entirely foreign language. He turned around, stumbling back, and screamed again. The alien before him had multiple cracks going through his face and body, leaking a thick, dark liquid.
Anakin ran.
He found another room and dove in, hiding beneath covers on the bed. That person looked sick, like he was dead and had a third eye on his forehead.
He was hiding, thinking what his mother would do. When the door creaked open, he moved back to the edge of the bed, his back touching the wall. Only a hand came out of the door, laying a metal tray on the ground. He closed the door again and left.
He peeked his head out of the blanket, glancing at the tray. It was hot and steaming, with a small, red and golden mound in one part; thick, white-green slices of something in another; a mix of reds and greens in the last; and a packet with round orange objects painted on it.
His stomach grumbled.
Stuck between thinking whether this was one of the traps his mother mentioned and his hunger, Anakin waited. Ultimately, his stomach won. He left his hiding spot, tiptoeing to the tray in case the alien was waiting behind the door. Eyes on the door, he snatched the tray and walked back to his bed.
He took the fork, poking what looked like pale worms strung together. He brought the utensil on a single strand, cutting it to reveal non-fleshy bits. Deciding it was safe, he stabbed the mound with the fork. However, the strands were too thin.
Instead, he gently pushed the fork in and twirled it. The strands wrapped around the fork, and he took it to his mouth. When the taste exploded in his mouth, he groaned, eyes almost rolling to the back of his head.
This was the tastiest food he had ever eaten.
He dove into the dish, eating as if it would disappear any second. He was careless, however, and had a hard time swallowing the morsel. He slowed down, deciding to taste the other foods on the tray. The thick slices were crunchy and sweet, while the mix of red and greens was his least favorite. They were still better than most food he had eaten, though.
He took the packet into his hand, noticing a white, metallic spot and a see-through tube. He took the tube, which was just the size to fit the metallic circle. He pushed through, and it went in easily.
He took a sip.
An orange, really sweet liquid hit his tongue, burning it slightly. The taste was, once again, nothing like he ever ate before. He kept drinking, feeling the cold drink wash down his throat.
When the tray was empty and he felt his stomach fuller than any time before, he fell asleep.
—
He woke up to a strange feeling. The sound of Watto screaming at him to get to work wasn't here. Neither was his gentle nudging. He didn't feel hungry or tired.
He did not know how to describe it.
He looked at the door, seeing another tray laid out. This one had two white circles with orange parts in the middle, bright orange slices, what looked to be bread, and a red, thick paste and a large cup of water.
He didn't feel too hungry, but free food was free food.
—
Done with his breakfast, he set out to find the alien who had given him all that food. Certainly, no one who could hand out delicious food like that without asking something in return couldn't be bad.
He walked through the hallways once again. The owner seemed to be the only person in this house. He hung his head down, knowing a lot of families could be housed here.
The door at the end of the hallway opened. He got a clear look at the alien. He was surprisingly like a human, dressed in black clothing. He wore a robe over a tunic, kept together by sashes; black pants and boots; and an equally black cloak behind that seemed to be floating as if it were in zero gravity.
He had a mustache, a beard, and clean, short hair.
"Hello," the alien said, waving a hand.
Anakin waved back, but the words made no sense to him once more. "I don't understand," he said, hoping the alien might speak basic or Huttese. Instead, he tilted his head to the side.
The alien spoke again, this time in a clearly different language, before switching to others. He picked up at least seven or eight different languages, all of them sounding foreign to him. He watched the alien with a blank face. His host laid a hand on his short, neat beard, putting his fingers over his chest.
"Stephen Strange," he said, repeating it several times. He quickly caught on that the alien was introducing himself.
"Anakin Skywalker," he replied, pointing at himself.
The alien nodded, turning around and waving his hand. He followed, keeping a distance regardless. The alien took him to a place with shelves filled to the brim with paper books. He had seen several before, but never this many in one place.
His host walked to a certain shelf, searching for a book. He opened one in the middle, turning to him while reading through another language.
"He must be smart to know so much," he thought, tilting his head at what the alien was doing.
His eyes widened and he considered escaping when a golden circle appeared on the man's left hand while he continued to read. When the golden circle appeared over him, he tried to bat it away. His hands harmlessly passed through. Then, it suddenly flew at him.
He jumped on the ground, covering his head.
"Sorry for the scare, kid," the alien replied. Anakin raised his head, looking at the alien finally speaking a language he could understand.
"What did you do?" he asked, patting his body for any wounds.
"A simple translation spell."
"Spell? Like magic?" Was he a Jedi?! Did he somehow manage to get stuck beneath the sands?! Did the freighter belong to him?!
He was positively jumping on his place. He had always wanted to meet a Jedi. Maybe they had finally come to free the slaves.
"The correct term is sorcery, but yes. Have you seen any before?"
"No. I only heard the Jedi could do things like this."
Strange's brows creased. "The Jedi?"
Anakin's face fell. "They are heroes who carry laser swords. They can do magic too."
"I am afraid I never heard of them. Which country are they from?" Strange asked, stroking his beard.
"Country? Do you mean planet? They are from Coruscant."
"Wait, wait, back up." Strange raised a hand. "These Jedi are from another planet?"
"Yes?" How could he not know Coruscant? Everyone knew the capital of the Galactic Republic.
"How is that possible?" he asked after a moment.
"With hyperdrives. Everyone with enough credits can buy a ship and travel."
Strange knelt, putting both hands on his shoulders. "Anakin, which planet are we on right now?"
"In Tatooine, a desert world with two suns."
"Oh."
Doctor Strange's eyes became unfocused, and he fell silent.
—
Anakin's head hurt. Not from the pain of slamming it hard enough to knock himself out, but from everything Doctor Strange just told him.
He was from Earth, the planet where humans evolved. He did not know Tatooine or any of the planets and races he encountered. His explanation was confusing. Apparently, Doctor Strange was from another dimension. He had arrived on Tatooine by accident while trying to save his world.
He still believed he was under the sands of one of the deserts in his world.
He understood the different dimensions a bit from studying hyperdrives. What he did not understand was the idea of different universes. Strange was kind enough to take the time to explain.
It still was confusing.
"This explains so many things. I thought I would have been found by now. I had begun to lose hope. Only to know it was all for nothing," he said, rubbing his eyes. Anakin saw the same black liquid seeping from his wounds come out of his eyes too.
He realized the man was crying.
Whenever Anakin cried, his mother always made him feel better with a hug. Deciding to do as she did, he hugged Doctor Strange. The man froze for a second, feeling the short arms wrap halfway around him.
He gently patted the boy's back, letting his tears fall freely.
—
In Mos Espa, a slave owner had just broken the news to his last remaining slave. The woman's son was dead, swallowed by the sands. His slave tracking device had gone offline, which only happened if it was detonated or the wearer died.
He could not stand her cries and left her quarters to seek a new slave. The boy was a gifted mechanic, an expensive commodity. He was lucky enough to earn him and his mother from Gardulla in a bet.
The Hutt was sure enough to bet them, but not many would be. He would have to spend a lot of peggats to buy a new one.
At least he had managed to get the freighter working with the droids.
—
Notes: Here is the first chapter of Anakin Skywalker: Sorcerer Supreme.
I know him eating food from another universe would present gut issues, probably. To avoid having to write our first couple of chapters as a health emergency, I decided to skip that. For those who enjoy these details, you can think of it as a force intervening if you want.
As for the slave tracking device, Sanctum has defenses against technology, which stop the device from going off or letting Watto know Anakin is alive.
As there are two chapters, which I am posting right now, there won't be any advanced chapters on my Patreon until next Friday.
Chapter 2 - Glimpse
New
Samael61
Not too sore, are you?
- Joined
- Apr 6, 2025
- Messages
- 342
- Likes received
- 16,540
Hello there,
If you enjoy my stories, you can read up to 15 chapters in advance per story on my Patreon page / patreon.com/Samael61.
Anakin Skywalker is on the path to become one of the greatest figures on the galactic scene. If you want to read an original story of greatness, you can check my story, Arrival : Ruptures. Comments, likes and reviews are appreciated. Here are the links for : AO3, Spacebattles, Royal Road and Webnovel.
—
Tatooine
"Sorry about that. It must be weird to have a grown man cry like this," he said, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe the black tears.
"It's fine. Mom says crying is good."
Strange smiled. "She sounds like a smart woman."
"She is."
"What about your dad?" he asked. The kid was malnourished. A desert planet with two suns would make finding food difficult for anyone not well off, more so for a single mother.
Anakin shrugged. "I don't have one."
"Where do you live on Tatooine?"
"Mos Espa. It is the largest city. I…work at a junkyard," Anakin said.
"You are, what, five years old? Why are you working in a junkyard, or anywhere for that matter?" Was food so scarce that even he had to work?
"I don't have a choice," he whispered, lowering his head.
Strange knelt, facing Anakin on an even level. "Can you repeat that?"
"I don't have a choice."
"Why not? Is someone forcing you to?" He had told Anakin much about Earth but did not have the time to learn as much about Tatooine. He did not like how the kid hesitated to speak about it.
"Yeah."
"And I assume you can't speak to the authorities?"
"No."
He slowly put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Anakin, I have a feeling it is something you don't wish to speak about. However, I can help. I was called Sorcerer Supreme back on my planet. I might be bound to the Sanctum, but there are a lot of things I can do to help you."
"Again, if you don't wish to speak, I understand," he added. It was best not to push him and force the kid to withdraw.
"The junkyard's owner, Watto, is also our owner."
He froze, accidentally squeezing Anakin's small shoulder. "Owner? Are you telling me slavery is allowed in this world?"
What kind of universe had he landed in?
Anakin nodded, almost imperceptibly.
"Is there no legitimate government? How could this be allowed?" How could a Galactic Republic—if the spell translated correctly—allow slavery to exist?
"The Hutts rule the outer rim. What they say goes. They allow slavery, and nobody crosses them," he muttered. His following explanation made Strange realize the Sanctum had landed on the corner of a galaxy ruled by gangsters.
"I need to go back," he muttered, looking at the cave system for an exit.
"Anakin, I understand you are worried for your mother. But I think she would prefer you away from her if it meant you would be free." In a similar situation, he would have done exactly that.
Anakin was lucky to get away. The hole he had fallen through was one he'd opened to let fresh air reach the cavern. A couple more days, he would have closed it.
"I know." He rubbed his left arm, looking away. "It's just that I have a device in my body. If I go too far from Watto, he can detonate it and kill me."
He closed his eyes, swearing inside. Not only was slavery allowed in this world, but they also put bombs inside people? If only he could leave the Sanctum, there would be hell to pay. "You don't have to worry. The Sanctum has defenses against technology. No signal can enter here or leave."
"Really?" Anakin's eyes shone. The only reason he thought Watto hadn't killed him yet was because he didn't know there was a house beneath the sands.
"Yes."
"But my mom…" he began, thinking about her. As long as he knew, they only had each other. He didn't want to leave her.
"There is a way to bring her here, but only you can do it."
"How?"
"Come with me; I'll show you."
—
Dr. Strange took him to an outside area.
He froze upon seeing the ceiling. He gazed at a blue sky with clouds and only one sun. The rest of the cave was wide, with thick columns keeping it from collapsing. Watto had taken him to salvage ships before. He knew there was no opening like this in the sands.
"Where are we?" he breathed out, watching the sky. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
"A small training ground. I got bored of being inside all the time and made this small place."
"But the sky?"
Strange grinned, happy to see the wonder in the kid's eyes. "It is an illusion, something I did for the sake of my mental health."
Staring at a bleary ceiling or working all day on the small farm he'd built had eventually burned him out. He had created a little heaven like this to preserve his sanity.
"Wizard!"
"Watch closely," Strange said. He spread his feet, holding his left hand forward while the right was half an arm behind. He began to move his right hand in a circle. Golden sparks appeared out of nowhere, settling into a large circle.
Anakin's jaw fell.
Inside the golden circle, he could see the room he had slept in. Dr. Strange reached for the table where he had left the tray. He took it, closed the circle, and opened another one. The next destination seemed to be the kitchen. Strange deposited the tray and closed the circle.
"This is a portal we, the Masters of the Mystical Arts, can open. I'll skip the details for now, but as long as you can virtualize the destination, you can open a portal to anywhere."
Anakin was quick to connect the dots. "Anywhere? Like our house with Mom?"
"Yes. As I said, I am bound to the Sanctum and a certain area around it. I can't open portals outside these boundaries."
"Oh."
"You can learn and open them, though."
"I can?"
"Anyone who is willing to put in the work, along with a bit of talent, can learn."
"Since you're so young, I'll only teach you how to open portals. Otherwise, you might get hurt." There was nothing he ever heard about children so young being allowed to train in the mystical arts.
"I am seven."
"Seven? You certainly don't show it, no offense," he said, wincing as he realized how that sounded.
"I know."
"At any rate, rest for now and eat. I know your mother must be worried, but once you gather strength, we can begin the lessons."
"Okay, Dr. Strange, sir."
"When I am your teacher, call me Master Strange. Otherwise, no need to call me sir."
—
He lay on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.
He was in a whole other dimension, away from his friends, away from the Masters of the Mystical Arts, and from his duties of protecting Earth. Without their greatest defense against Dormammu, the Time Stone, he had to use the Darkhold to save the Sanctum. He only hoped it had succeeded.
He thought of how to return home.
His soul was shackled to the Sanctum and a certain area around it. He could not move past the boundary, physically or otherwise. He couldn't open a portal home, even if he discovered how.
The only path for him was to move the entire Sanctum back.
Yet, how was he supposed to find Earth when he had been marooned in a galaxy that did not know it? It could be forgotten or, just as equally possible, never have existed. He was so far from home; he had no idea how to locate his specific dimension.
At least he had something to work towards, besides helping Anakin.
In the meantime, he would help Anakin free his mother, and if there was time, end slavery on this planet.
—
"Master Strange, where do you get all this food?" Anakin asked as they were eating breakfast.
Could sorcery create food too?
"The Sanctum had all the necessary materials in storage for farming should there be issues. Soil, seeds, eggs, fertilizer. I wasn't going anywhere and started to learn how to farm to keep myself fed. I'll show it to you later if you want," Strange offered with a smile. The small farm and orchard kept his mind off his circumstances. It was not something he had ever seen himself do, but it was a surprisingly calming experience.
And convenient with sorcery.
"Thank you."
"You mentioned aliens before. How many are there?" Strange asked. He had met several aliens back on Earth. He wagered living on a planet teeming with them couldn't compare.
"Hundreds."
Strange stopped, the gnocchi almost sliding off his fork.
"Didn't you have aliens in your world?" Anakin asked.
"We were aware they existed, but Earth was far from achieving space travel. We didn't have regular contact, except for the Asgardians."
There was a lull in conversation as he considered the situation on the surface. Gangsters, aliens, space travel, and a whole galaxy out there.
"Try to eat slowly. You will get a stomach ache otherwise," he said to Anakin. The boy had good table manners, most likely thanks to his mother, but he was inhaling the food. He couldn't blame him, knowing what he had gone through so far.
"Sorry."
"Don't be."
"We'll have to adjust more clothes for you. I'll also show you the showers. There aren't many cleaning products, but the water gets recycled by sorcery; feel free to use as much water as you want."
"Shower with water?"
"Right, I forgot. I assume water is expensive up there?" Perhaps he could use sorcery to find water and have Anakin sell it once he discovered a way to get that device out of him. There would no doubt be plenty of interesting things to buy.
"It is. Mom just wipes us both with sponges."
"I guarantee you, nothing beats a warm shower."
"Wait, how did you clean me when I came here first?" Anakin asked after a moment. He would have woken up if he were being washed with water.
"With sorcery, of course," he said. He waved his hand over the empty plates. A golden wave passed over, and they were all spotless. He then levitated them to the correct places in the cabinet, all without leaving his seat.
It was nothing like the portals, but still pretty wicked, and he couldn't wait. "When can I start to learn?"
"Here is a short lesson. We draw energy from different dimensions to do what we do. It doesn't affect adults in any bad way. I don't know if it would affect a child, though. Until I figure it out, you will have to wait."
A developed mind was necessary for sorcery. He didn't know if the same went for the body but would not take chances. Yet, they had to hurry, because who knew what Anakin's mother would do if she thought her owner's carelessness had led to her son's death?
"I know it is not what you want to hear, but patience is important," he said, seeing Anakin frown.
—
He spent the next few days learning about his new student-hopeful. Anakin was way smarter than his age would indicate. He had worked as a mechanic in the junkyard, assembling and disassembling extremely advanced machines.
Exactly the kind of talent Tony Stark would appreciate.
His mother had taught him not to show his true feelings so easily from a young age. In an environment where he did not have to fear reprisal, Anakin was quick to let his fury at slavery be known.
It would be a dangerous weakness to have. He would have to help the boy curb it.
He was born into slavery, and his mother had never talked about his father. Their previous owner was Gardulla the Hutt. He had come to learn they were basically giant, sapient slugs, all known to be criminals. Watto, the owner of the junkyard, had won them from Gardulla in a bet.
Watto was a Toydarian, a bug-like species with wings that actually allowed them to fly. He was better than Gardulla, who enjoyed treating her slaves like toys to be broken, but he still was a slaver.
In return, he mentioned his home and his past as a surgeon who had sought to learn the mystical arts as a last resort after an accident damaged his hands. He mentioned Tony Stark, the genius playboy billionaire. He had even gone as far as to create illusions of Iron Man, allowing Anakin to watch how the genius fought with his armor.
The boy was mesmerized.
He combed the library for any records of a child being trained, of which there were none. The subject was never discussed among the masters of the mystical arts. Given no one would even think about training a child, it was to be expected.
Two weeks after they had met and once Anakin had put on some weight, he decided to test the boy. He would guide him every step of the way. If the dimensional energies somehow harmed him, he would intervene.
He felt for Anakin but would not let him try to save his mother at the cost of his own life.
—
"This is a sling ring," he said, putting the metal band over Anakin's fingers.
"It allows us to open portals and access other dimensions."
"I am going to give you a little push so you know what to look for, okay? It might be a bit scary, but everything will be fine."
He knelt, laying his thumb on Anakin's forehead and the remaining fingers on the left side of his head.
Anakin screamed as he went off flying.
He crashed through the ceiling of the Sanctum, going through the desert. Each sand grain grew in size until he stood smaller than them. He stopped, floating, screams of terror turning lighter. He smiled and was flying once more.
He traveled through the sky, leaving Tatooine in seconds, seeing the twin suns glare at him. He flew to the stars, and the space before him bent. The suns stretched, becoming one, going through a multitude of colors, and finally transformed into a black hole.
He felt himself stretch this time, still shrieking with a smile, and the next thing he knew he was back in the Sanctum.
"That was great!" he shouted, startling Strange.
"It is?" He certainly hadn't thought so when the Ancient One used this little trick on him.
"Yeah. The sand grains became so pretty, then the sun turned into a black hole. I saw a lot of Tatooines bend around it."
"That was the Astral Plane. You took a short trip."
"Can we do it again?"
"Perhaps once you learn it yourself. How do you feel? Any discomfort, pain, weird sensations?"
"No, I am fine," Anakin said, checking himself for anything out of the ordinary.
Strange was monitoring Anakin's soul but saw no reason to interfere. It did not seem to affect the boy adversely at all.
"Once you master the mystic arts, you'll be able to do that and much more. Are you ready?"
"Yes, Master Strange," Anakin cheered, giving a slight bow as if it was an afterthought.
His lips curled upwards at the enthusiasm. This kid certainly would be an interesting one to teach.
Notes : As there are two chapters, which I am posting right now, there won't be any advanced chapters on my Patreon until next Friday.
If you enjoy my stories, you can read up to 15 chapters in advance per story on my Patreon page / patreon.com/Samael61.
Anakin Skywalker is on the path to become one of the greatest figures on the galactic scene. If you want to read an original story of greatness, you can check my story, Arrival : Ruptures. Comments, likes and reviews are appreciated. Here are the links for : AO3, Spacebattles, Royal Road and Webnovel.
—
Tatooine
"Sorry about that. It must be weird to have a grown man cry like this," he said, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe the black tears.
"It's fine. Mom says crying is good."
Strange smiled. "She sounds like a smart woman."
"She is."
"What about your dad?" he asked. The kid was malnourished. A desert planet with two suns would make finding food difficult for anyone not well off, more so for a single mother.
Anakin shrugged. "I don't have one."
"Where do you live on Tatooine?"
"Mos Espa. It is the largest city. I…work at a junkyard," Anakin said.
"You are, what, five years old? Why are you working in a junkyard, or anywhere for that matter?" Was food so scarce that even he had to work?
"I don't have a choice," he whispered, lowering his head.
Strange knelt, facing Anakin on an even level. "Can you repeat that?"
"I don't have a choice."
"Why not? Is someone forcing you to?" He had told Anakin much about Earth but did not have the time to learn as much about Tatooine. He did not like how the kid hesitated to speak about it.
"Yeah."
"And I assume you can't speak to the authorities?"
"No."
He slowly put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Anakin, I have a feeling it is something you don't wish to speak about. However, I can help. I was called Sorcerer Supreme back on my planet. I might be bound to the Sanctum, but there are a lot of things I can do to help you."
"Again, if you don't wish to speak, I understand," he added. It was best not to push him and force the kid to withdraw.
"The junkyard's owner, Watto, is also our owner."
He froze, accidentally squeezing Anakin's small shoulder. "Owner? Are you telling me slavery is allowed in this world?"
What kind of universe had he landed in?
Anakin nodded, almost imperceptibly.
"Is there no legitimate government? How could this be allowed?" How could a Galactic Republic—if the spell translated correctly—allow slavery to exist?
"The Hutts rule the outer rim. What they say goes. They allow slavery, and nobody crosses them," he muttered. His following explanation made Strange realize the Sanctum had landed on the corner of a galaxy ruled by gangsters.
"I need to go back," he muttered, looking at the cave system for an exit.
"Anakin, I understand you are worried for your mother. But I think she would prefer you away from her if it meant you would be free." In a similar situation, he would have done exactly that.
Anakin was lucky to get away. The hole he had fallen through was one he'd opened to let fresh air reach the cavern. A couple more days, he would have closed it.
"I know." He rubbed his left arm, looking away. "It's just that I have a device in my body. If I go too far from Watto, he can detonate it and kill me."
He closed his eyes, swearing inside. Not only was slavery allowed in this world, but they also put bombs inside people? If only he could leave the Sanctum, there would be hell to pay. "You don't have to worry. The Sanctum has defenses against technology. No signal can enter here or leave."
"Really?" Anakin's eyes shone. The only reason he thought Watto hadn't killed him yet was because he didn't know there was a house beneath the sands.
"Yes."
"But my mom…" he began, thinking about her. As long as he knew, they only had each other. He didn't want to leave her.
"There is a way to bring her here, but only you can do it."
"How?"
"Come with me; I'll show you."
—
Dr. Strange took him to an outside area.
He froze upon seeing the ceiling. He gazed at a blue sky with clouds and only one sun. The rest of the cave was wide, with thick columns keeping it from collapsing. Watto had taken him to salvage ships before. He knew there was no opening like this in the sands.
"Where are we?" he breathed out, watching the sky. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
"A small training ground. I got bored of being inside all the time and made this small place."
"But the sky?"
Strange grinned, happy to see the wonder in the kid's eyes. "It is an illusion, something I did for the sake of my mental health."
Staring at a bleary ceiling or working all day on the small farm he'd built had eventually burned him out. He had created a little heaven like this to preserve his sanity.
"Wizard!"
"Watch closely," Strange said. He spread his feet, holding his left hand forward while the right was half an arm behind. He began to move his right hand in a circle. Golden sparks appeared out of nowhere, settling into a large circle.
Anakin's jaw fell.
Inside the golden circle, he could see the room he had slept in. Dr. Strange reached for the table where he had left the tray. He took it, closed the circle, and opened another one. The next destination seemed to be the kitchen. Strange deposited the tray and closed the circle.
"This is a portal we, the Masters of the Mystical Arts, can open. I'll skip the details for now, but as long as you can virtualize the destination, you can open a portal to anywhere."
Anakin was quick to connect the dots. "Anywhere? Like our house with Mom?"
"Yes. As I said, I am bound to the Sanctum and a certain area around it. I can't open portals outside these boundaries."
"Oh."
"You can learn and open them, though."
"I can?"
"Anyone who is willing to put in the work, along with a bit of talent, can learn."
"Since you're so young, I'll only teach you how to open portals. Otherwise, you might get hurt." There was nothing he ever heard about children so young being allowed to train in the mystical arts.
"I am seven."
"Seven? You certainly don't show it, no offense," he said, wincing as he realized how that sounded.
"I know."
"At any rate, rest for now and eat. I know your mother must be worried, but once you gather strength, we can begin the lessons."
"Okay, Dr. Strange, sir."
"When I am your teacher, call me Master Strange. Otherwise, no need to call me sir."
—
He lay on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.
He was in a whole other dimension, away from his friends, away from the Masters of the Mystical Arts, and from his duties of protecting Earth. Without their greatest defense against Dormammu, the Time Stone, he had to use the Darkhold to save the Sanctum. He only hoped it had succeeded.
He thought of how to return home.
His soul was shackled to the Sanctum and a certain area around it. He could not move past the boundary, physically or otherwise. He couldn't open a portal home, even if he discovered how.
The only path for him was to move the entire Sanctum back.
Yet, how was he supposed to find Earth when he had been marooned in a galaxy that did not know it? It could be forgotten or, just as equally possible, never have existed. He was so far from home; he had no idea how to locate his specific dimension.
At least he had something to work towards, besides helping Anakin.
In the meantime, he would help Anakin free his mother, and if there was time, end slavery on this planet.
—
"Master Strange, where do you get all this food?" Anakin asked as they were eating breakfast.
Could sorcery create food too?
"The Sanctum had all the necessary materials in storage for farming should there be issues. Soil, seeds, eggs, fertilizer. I wasn't going anywhere and started to learn how to farm to keep myself fed. I'll show it to you later if you want," Strange offered with a smile. The small farm and orchard kept his mind off his circumstances. It was not something he had ever seen himself do, but it was a surprisingly calming experience.
And convenient with sorcery.
"Thank you."
"You mentioned aliens before. How many are there?" Strange asked. He had met several aliens back on Earth. He wagered living on a planet teeming with them couldn't compare.
"Hundreds."
Strange stopped, the gnocchi almost sliding off his fork.
"Didn't you have aliens in your world?" Anakin asked.
"We were aware they existed, but Earth was far from achieving space travel. We didn't have regular contact, except for the Asgardians."
There was a lull in conversation as he considered the situation on the surface. Gangsters, aliens, space travel, and a whole galaxy out there.
"Try to eat slowly. You will get a stomach ache otherwise," he said to Anakin. The boy had good table manners, most likely thanks to his mother, but he was inhaling the food. He couldn't blame him, knowing what he had gone through so far.
"Sorry."
"Don't be."
"We'll have to adjust more clothes for you. I'll also show you the showers. There aren't many cleaning products, but the water gets recycled by sorcery; feel free to use as much water as you want."
"Shower with water?"
"Right, I forgot. I assume water is expensive up there?" Perhaps he could use sorcery to find water and have Anakin sell it once he discovered a way to get that device out of him. There would no doubt be plenty of interesting things to buy.
"It is. Mom just wipes us both with sponges."
"I guarantee you, nothing beats a warm shower."
"Wait, how did you clean me when I came here first?" Anakin asked after a moment. He would have woken up if he were being washed with water.
"With sorcery, of course," he said. He waved his hand over the empty plates. A golden wave passed over, and they were all spotless. He then levitated them to the correct places in the cabinet, all without leaving his seat.
It was nothing like the portals, but still pretty wicked, and he couldn't wait. "When can I start to learn?"
"Here is a short lesson. We draw energy from different dimensions to do what we do. It doesn't affect adults in any bad way. I don't know if it would affect a child, though. Until I figure it out, you will have to wait."
A developed mind was necessary for sorcery. He didn't know if the same went for the body but would not take chances. Yet, they had to hurry, because who knew what Anakin's mother would do if she thought her owner's carelessness had led to her son's death?
"I know it is not what you want to hear, but patience is important," he said, seeing Anakin frown.
—
He spent the next few days learning about his new student-hopeful. Anakin was way smarter than his age would indicate. He had worked as a mechanic in the junkyard, assembling and disassembling extremely advanced machines.
Exactly the kind of talent Tony Stark would appreciate.
His mother had taught him not to show his true feelings so easily from a young age. In an environment where he did not have to fear reprisal, Anakin was quick to let his fury at slavery be known.
It would be a dangerous weakness to have. He would have to help the boy curb it.
He was born into slavery, and his mother had never talked about his father. Their previous owner was Gardulla the Hutt. He had come to learn they were basically giant, sapient slugs, all known to be criminals. Watto, the owner of the junkyard, had won them from Gardulla in a bet.
Watto was a Toydarian, a bug-like species with wings that actually allowed them to fly. He was better than Gardulla, who enjoyed treating her slaves like toys to be broken, but he still was a slaver.
In return, he mentioned his home and his past as a surgeon who had sought to learn the mystical arts as a last resort after an accident damaged his hands. He mentioned Tony Stark, the genius playboy billionaire. He had even gone as far as to create illusions of Iron Man, allowing Anakin to watch how the genius fought with his armor.
The boy was mesmerized.
He combed the library for any records of a child being trained, of which there were none. The subject was never discussed among the masters of the mystical arts. Given no one would even think about training a child, it was to be expected.
Two weeks after they had met and once Anakin had put on some weight, he decided to test the boy. He would guide him every step of the way. If the dimensional energies somehow harmed him, he would intervene.
He felt for Anakin but would not let him try to save his mother at the cost of his own life.
—
"This is a sling ring," he said, putting the metal band over Anakin's fingers.
"It allows us to open portals and access other dimensions."
"I am going to give you a little push so you know what to look for, okay? It might be a bit scary, but everything will be fine."
He knelt, laying his thumb on Anakin's forehead and the remaining fingers on the left side of his head.
Anakin screamed as he went off flying.
He crashed through the ceiling of the Sanctum, going through the desert. Each sand grain grew in size until he stood smaller than them. He stopped, floating, screams of terror turning lighter. He smiled and was flying once more.
He traveled through the sky, leaving Tatooine in seconds, seeing the twin suns glare at him. He flew to the stars, and the space before him bent. The suns stretched, becoming one, going through a multitude of colors, and finally transformed into a black hole.
He felt himself stretch this time, still shrieking with a smile, and the next thing he knew he was back in the Sanctum.
"That was great!" he shouted, startling Strange.
"It is?" He certainly hadn't thought so when the Ancient One used this little trick on him.
"Yeah. The sand grains became so pretty, then the sun turned into a black hole. I saw a lot of Tatooines bend around it."
"That was the Astral Plane. You took a short trip."
"Can we do it again?"
"Perhaps once you learn it yourself. How do you feel? Any discomfort, pain, weird sensations?"
"No, I am fine," Anakin said, checking himself for anything out of the ordinary.
Strange was monitoring Anakin's soul but saw no reason to interfere. It did not seem to affect the boy adversely at all.
"Once you master the mystic arts, you'll be able to do that and much more. Are you ready?"
"Yes, Master Strange," Anakin cheered, giving a slight bow as if it was an afterthought.
His lips curled upwards at the enthusiasm. This kid certainly would be an interesting one to teach.
Notes : As there are two chapters, which I am posting right now, there won't be any advanced chapters on my Patreon until next Friday.
Last edited:
NutakuFan
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It was the only authority he ever knew as a sorcerer, and as a student.
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Thanks for the chapter
Chapter 3 - Reunion
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Samael61
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Hello there,
If you enjoy my stories, you can read up to 15 chapters in advance per story on my Patreon page / patreon.com/Samael61.
Anakin Skywalker is on the path to become one of the greatest figures on the galactic scene. If you want to read an original story of greatness, you can check my story, Arrival : Ruptures. Comments, likes and reviews are appreciated. Here are the links for : AO3, Spacebattles, Royal Road and Webnovel.
Double post today in honor of releasing more than twenty chapters of Arrival : Ruptures, along with the pilot chapter.
—
Tatooine
Sanctum Sanctorum
"Let's start small with you," Strange said, bringing out a table with an apple on it.
"Your first task is simple. Open a portal near the apple but don't take it yet," he said, beginning the lesson. "As I said, the most important part is visualization. Try to imagine a hole in front of you, one that leads next to the apple," he said, starting to pace as he went into more detail.
"Master Strange, something is happening," Anakin called out.
Before Anakin's words could register, he already felt the beginnings of a portal form, causing him to sharply turn around, almost stumbling. "Wait, what?"
There, right in front of Anakin, golden particles sparked into existence. The boy continued to roll his hand in a circular motion, face scrunched in concentration. Strange watched with an open mouth, not believing his eyes. It had taken him weeks to learn how to open a portal, and he only managed after the Ancient One abandoned him at the top of a freezing mountain.
Anakin's capability wasn't just prodigious but mind-boggling.
He approached the boy with quick steps, scanning to understand how Anakin had succeeded so quickly. He recoiled back, feeling the waves of energy the boy was drawing. If he could draw energy from other dimensions akin to a river, then Anakin himself was drawing the equivalent of Niagara Falls.
The only issue was the boy didn't have the necessary control to use it.
"Anakin, stop," he said.
"Why? Did I do something wrong?"
"No, no. You drew more energy than I have ever seen anyone else do. How are you feeling?" he said, checking his pupils and pulse.
"I'm fine. Is it bad to do that?"
"I'd say not. We just have to be careful. You can continue now," he said. He would have to monitor the situation even closer now. He did not know what allowed Anakin to draw so much energy with such ease. What he knew was that he would be a terrifying sorcerer in the future.
A future that seemed closer than he had ever considered.
Anakin focused once more, rolling his hand as golden sparks appeared once more. Strange pulled a chair from the kitchen, sitting to watch Anakin's progress. The boy worked until his arms tired out. The sparks were there, and he believed his young apprentice had the necessary imagination. The problem was the power.
Opening portals required more finesse than energy. The amount Anakin poured into the portal smothered it before it could form. He was literally suffering from too much power.
"Master Strange, how did I do?"
"You did good. Because of reasons that are not clear to me yet, you draw more energy from other dimensions than I have ever seen. However, it makes your control difficult."
"What do I do?"
"Did you feel the energy flow through you?"
"Yeah."
"Great." Strange nodded. "You need to reduce the amount you pour into the portal. Think of it like this," he stopped, about to suggest a dam before a river, a simile the boy wouldn't understand. "Like a window that only lets in a little bit of sunlight."
"Oh, okay."
"You can continue whenever you feel ready,"
Anakin nodded, his lips thinning in determination. He rubbed his arms and moved to his training post.
Strange leaned forward, squinting his eyes. The process was much the same as before. Anakin only managed to create sparks in front of him, but as time passed, his eyes caught flakes of gold near the apple.
His progress was frightening.
—
Portal training wasn't the only kind Anakin experienced. His mother had taught him how to read and write in their spare time. However, the books in the Sanctum were of languages that did not exist in this universe.
Possibly at least.
He started teaching his new apprentice Sanskrit first, the most common language within the library. The translation spell did not work on written language. The process had to be the old way.
In that part, Anakin had problems.
He quickly came to realize the boy was a kinesthetic learner. Sitting in a library to learn a brand new language was difficult for him. So Stephen changed his approach.
—
"Alright, Anakin. Here is how we are going to do this," Strange began. He held his hand over the books, causing the pages to flip in quick order. When the book closed, he brought his palms together, created a mandala, and thrust it forward.
Words in Sanskrit flew out of the pages, circling Anakin.
"Your task is to chase down each word. When you catch them, the spell will read their meaning to you. Then, the words will return here. Remember the letters and try to recognize the words afterwards."
"Go," he said. The letters flew around, staying within the boundaries of the training field, but still giving Anakin plenty of distance to close.
Anakin didn't lose any time, chasing after the flying words with a smile.
—
The change in his teaching approach had proven to be the correct one. Anakin was not bored to sleep by the lessons, and he was also getting in adequate physical activity. From breakfast to lunch, he would learn Sanskrit, and until dinner, it was portal training. After that, he would be free to do as he wished.
He was interested in the farm. Crops and flowers were a rarity on Tatooine, only available for the rich merchants and the Hutts. He helped water the plants, gather fruits and vegetables, and pet the chickens.
—
With each training session, Anakin's control improved. He poured less energy each time, reaching ever so close to his target. He also had proper motivation. It was just a matter of time before he could bring his mother to the Sanctum.
It got him thinking.
Even if they could not be detonated, Anakin and his mother would still have those bombs inside them. He didn't have the proper equipment to remove it. He could fix his shaking hands with sorcery long enough to do the procedure. What he couldn't do was create anesthetics, scalpels, and other tools to remove the bombs.
That was assuming they weren't protected against tampering.
The smallest mistake could end their lives. He couldn't leave the Sanctum at all, and if Anakin did so to find someone that could remove the bombs, Watto could potentially be alerted. It created quite a tricky situation.
He only hoped Shmi would know more about these bombs.
—
"Master Strange, I did it!" Anakin exclaimed, bringing Stephen out of his book. His excited shout disrupted the young boy's attention for a moment, causing the small portal to waver. He was quick to refocus, stabilizing it.
He got off from his chair, approaching to inspect the portal. It was a great step but not ready for use yet.
"You have done great, but there is still a long way to go. Once you open a proper portal, it will stay that way until you close it. Right now, if you tried to reach through, it would close and take your arm off."
Anakin winced, and the portal shut down.
"Don't be discouraged. You are learning far faster than I was at the beginning of my training. Keep up and you will be there soon," he said. It had already been a week, and Anakin had proceeded far faster than anticipated.
All without the need for how the Ancient One had taught him.
The little boy's shoulders straightened up, eyes burning with pride. The determination was broken when his stomach grumbled. Anakin looked down, cheeks burning.
Stephen chuckled, gesturing at him to follow.
—
Mos Espa
Shmi rolled on her bed, her face scrunched. Nightmares plagued her once more. The visions of her son kept asking why she didn't save him. Each time for the last three weeks, she had nothing to say.
"Mom, quick, you have to get up," the visions said, a change from the usual accusing tone. It sounded urgent in fact.
"Ani, I am sorry," she mumbled, still in
"Mom, come on, wake up, please," her son called, his voice sounding far more real than before.
Shmi stood up, looking around her bedroom with bleary eyes. There, right in front of the door, was a golden, swirling circle, with her son looking at her through it.
"Ani?" she said, stumbling out of the bed to run to her son, still believing it was a dream. When she managed to throw her arms around his small body and inhaled his scent, she knew it was real.
"Ani? You are here!" She burst into tears, squeezing her son to her chest.
"My apologies for disrupting your reunion, but there isn't much time," another, older voice called.
"Mom, he is right. We need to hurry."
"Hurry? Ani, what is happening? How are you here?"
"All will be explained. Please, you must gather whatever you need and come through the portal."
Shmi didn't know what was going on, but she understood one thing. Her son was here, through wherever this portal led to, and she would be there. She pressed one last kiss on her son's forehead, rummaging through the wardrobe for clothes and the kitchen for food and medicine.
She stopped in the living room, looking at the droid Anakin was building. She hauled it up by the arms, dragging it to the portal. She raised it up, allowing Anakin and the older man to pull it inside.
With a little bit of help, she too was through just as the golden circle collapsed.
—
Sanctum
Shmi fell forward, accidentally trapping her son. She scrambled to her feet, throwing her arms around her son again. The little boy groaned at how tight the hug was but returned it in kind, burying his face on his mother's neck.
Her silent tears wetted his hair, and it was the most peaceful thing he had ever felt.
Strange watched the mother and son, letting them catch up after weeks of being apart.
"Anakin, you and your mother rest for now. We'll talk in the morning," he said, leaving the room.
Anakin helped his mother to the bed. Tired and emotionally drained, the comfort of having her son back had made her fall asleep before she even hit the bed.
—
He placed the third plate on the table.
The idea of cooking for more than just himself after ten years still felt a bit foreign. The day after Anakin arrived, he had forgotten the boy was there. It made him realize how used he was to loneliness.
Numbed to it, more like.
He heard the footsteps first, prompting him to pour the freshly squeezed juice. Anakin was guiding his mother in, holding her hand tightly. They both had red, puffy eyes, signaling a fresh round of tears had been shed recently.
Shmi's clothing was rough, just like Anakin's was when he arrived. Unlike her son, she had dark hair and a face already worn from the sun.
"Miss Shmi, Anakin, good morning," he greeted. Anakin wished him the same back, but Shmi froze mid-step for a second as her eyes landed on him.
"It's fine, Mom. This is Dr. Strange," Anakin said, squeezing his mother's hand.
"I understand my skin condition looks worrying, but I can assure you it is non-contagious."
"Oh, I am sorry, I was just…" Shmi looked down,
"I understand. Please, take a seat."
"I am Doctor Stephen Strange, a Master of Mystical Arts, an occupation that allows one to open portals like the one you saw last night."
"Right, that. It still feels like a dream to be honest."
"It is not," he said, opening a small portal to pass the glasses.
Anakin reached for the glasses, putting one before his wide-eyed mother.
"Let us eat first before I start with explanations," Strange offered, cutting his eggs.
Shmi poked the food on her plate, unfamiliar with it. She glanced at her son, who was eating with gusto, and decided to give it a try.
—
The breakfast was a short affair. He cleaned the dishes, kindly refusing Shmi's offer. He guided them to the training area to give the confused woman the explanation she was due for.
"As I said, I am Doctor Stephen Strange," he began, introducing himself once more. He continued with how he had arrived in this dimension beneath the sands of Tatooine. Anakin's arrival in the Sanctum through the tunnel he had left for fresh air, his desire to return to Shmi, and of course, Strange offering him an alternative to bring his mother here.
It overwhelmed her.
"I don't know how to thank you, Dr. Strange," Shmi said, giving a small bow. She seemed hesitant about everything, most likely a habit formed from having to ask permission for most things.
He raised a hand, a small, reassuring smile on his face. "You don't have to. Having company after a decade is more than I could ever ask for."
"If you don't mind, though, I have some questions for you."
"Of course."
"Anakin, why don't you go and get some apples?" Strange asked, even though he could have opened a portal for it.
Anakin shrugged, leaving for the kitchen with one last reassuring look at his mother. "Okay."
He waited until Anakin was through the door before giving Shmi an insight into how his sorcery worked and, more importantly, how Anakin seemed to be unnaturally good at it.
"I believe it might be genetic. If not on your side, then perhaps from his father's," he explained. It could be a recessive gene since the boy had blonde hair.
Shmi looked down, avoiding his eyes again. "Anakin doesn't have a father."
Strange grimaced. Whatever happened must have been bad enough that she erased the man completely. Knowing she was enslaved, it brought extremely unpleasant scenarios to mind. "I understand if you don't wish to speak about him."
"Oh no, nothing like that. He truly doesn't have a father. I never had a relationship with anyone before suddenly finding myself pregnant," Shmi said, laying a hand on her stomach.
Her demeanor and voice tone indicated she wasn't lying.
He blinked repeatedly.
He wanted to ask if it could be in vitro fertilization, but who would want to do that in the lawless region of the galaxy to a random woman and let her fall into the hands of a junkyard owner? It made no sense.
He chuckled to himself. If what Shmi said was true, and he was inclined to believe her, then Anakin was something like the galactic Jesus.
The chosen one, as it would be.
With the question of Anakin's parentage resolved, he turned his attention to other matters. Shmi knew more about the galaxy than her son. She was a trove of information, still lacking greatly, but it answered some of the questions he had.
Such as the Galactic Republic, the Jedi to a small degree, and more importantly for now, a safe way to remove the bombs.
If you enjoy my stories, you can read up to 15 chapters in advance per story on my Patreon page / patreon.com/Samael61.
Anakin Skywalker is on the path to become one of the greatest figures on the galactic scene. If you want to read an original story of greatness, you can check my story, Arrival : Ruptures. Comments, likes and reviews are appreciated. Here are the links for : AO3, Spacebattles, Royal Road and Webnovel.
Double post today in honor of releasing more than twenty chapters of Arrival : Ruptures, along with the pilot chapter.
—
Tatooine
Sanctum Sanctorum
"Let's start small with you," Strange said, bringing out a table with an apple on it.
"Your first task is simple. Open a portal near the apple but don't take it yet," he said, beginning the lesson. "As I said, the most important part is visualization. Try to imagine a hole in front of you, one that leads next to the apple," he said, starting to pace as he went into more detail.
"Master Strange, something is happening," Anakin called out.
Before Anakin's words could register, he already felt the beginnings of a portal form, causing him to sharply turn around, almost stumbling. "Wait, what?"
There, right in front of Anakin, golden particles sparked into existence. The boy continued to roll his hand in a circular motion, face scrunched in concentration. Strange watched with an open mouth, not believing his eyes. It had taken him weeks to learn how to open a portal, and he only managed after the Ancient One abandoned him at the top of a freezing mountain.
Anakin's capability wasn't just prodigious but mind-boggling.
He approached the boy with quick steps, scanning to understand how Anakin had succeeded so quickly. He recoiled back, feeling the waves of energy the boy was drawing. If he could draw energy from other dimensions akin to a river, then Anakin himself was drawing the equivalent of Niagara Falls.
The only issue was the boy didn't have the necessary control to use it.
"Anakin, stop," he said.
"Why? Did I do something wrong?"
"No, no. You drew more energy than I have ever seen anyone else do. How are you feeling?" he said, checking his pupils and pulse.
"I'm fine. Is it bad to do that?"
"I'd say not. We just have to be careful. You can continue now," he said. He would have to monitor the situation even closer now. He did not know what allowed Anakin to draw so much energy with such ease. What he knew was that he would be a terrifying sorcerer in the future.
A future that seemed closer than he had ever considered.
Anakin focused once more, rolling his hand as golden sparks appeared once more. Strange pulled a chair from the kitchen, sitting to watch Anakin's progress. The boy worked until his arms tired out. The sparks were there, and he believed his young apprentice had the necessary imagination. The problem was the power.
Opening portals required more finesse than energy. The amount Anakin poured into the portal smothered it before it could form. He was literally suffering from too much power.
"Master Strange, how did I do?"
"You did good. Because of reasons that are not clear to me yet, you draw more energy from other dimensions than I have ever seen. However, it makes your control difficult."
"What do I do?"
"Did you feel the energy flow through you?"
"Yeah."
"Great." Strange nodded. "You need to reduce the amount you pour into the portal. Think of it like this," he stopped, about to suggest a dam before a river, a simile the boy wouldn't understand. "Like a window that only lets in a little bit of sunlight."
"Oh, okay."
"You can continue whenever you feel ready,"
Anakin nodded, his lips thinning in determination. He rubbed his arms and moved to his training post.
Strange leaned forward, squinting his eyes. The process was much the same as before. Anakin only managed to create sparks in front of him, but as time passed, his eyes caught flakes of gold near the apple.
His progress was frightening.
—
Portal training wasn't the only kind Anakin experienced. His mother had taught him how to read and write in their spare time. However, the books in the Sanctum were of languages that did not exist in this universe.
Possibly at least.
He started teaching his new apprentice Sanskrit first, the most common language within the library. The translation spell did not work on written language. The process had to be the old way.
In that part, Anakin had problems.
He quickly came to realize the boy was a kinesthetic learner. Sitting in a library to learn a brand new language was difficult for him. So Stephen changed his approach.
—
"Alright, Anakin. Here is how we are going to do this," Strange began. He held his hand over the books, causing the pages to flip in quick order. When the book closed, he brought his palms together, created a mandala, and thrust it forward.
Words in Sanskrit flew out of the pages, circling Anakin.
"Your task is to chase down each word. When you catch them, the spell will read their meaning to you. Then, the words will return here. Remember the letters and try to recognize the words afterwards."
"Go," he said. The letters flew around, staying within the boundaries of the training field, but still giving Anakin plenty of distance to close.
Anakin didn't lose any time, chasing after the flying words with a smile.
—
The change in his teaching approach had proven to be the correct one. Anakin was not bored to sleep by the lessons, and he was also getting in adequate physical activity. From breakfast to lunch, he would learn Sanskrit, and until dinner, it was portal training. After that, he would be free to do as he wished.
He was interested in the farm. Crops and flowers were a rarity on Tatooine, only available for the rich merchants and the Hutts. He helped water the plants, gather fruits and vegetables, and pet the chickens.
—
With each training session, Anakin's control improved. He poured less energy each time, reaching ever so close to his target. He also had proper motivation. It was just a matter of time before he could bring his mother to the Sanctum.
It got him thinking.
Even if they could not be detonated, Anakin and his mother would still have those bombs inside them. He didn't have the proper equipment to remove it. He could fix his shaking hands with sorcery long enough to do the procedure. What he couldn't do was create anesthetics, scalpels, and other tools to remove the bombs.
That was assuming they weren't protected against tampering.
The smallest mistake could end their lives. He couldn't leave the Sanctum at all, and if Anakin did so to find someone that could remove the bombs, Watto could potentially be alerted. It created quite a tricky situation.
He only hoped Shmi would know more about these bombs.
—
"Master Strange, I did it!" Anakin exclaimed, bringing Stephen out of his book. His excited shout disrupted the young boy's attention for a moment, causing the small portal to waver. He was quick to refocus, stabilizing it.
He got off from his chair, approaching to inspect the portal. It was a great step but not ready for use yet.
"You have done great, but there is still a long way to go. Once you open a proper portal, it will stay that way until you close it. Right now, if you tried to reach through, it would close and take your arm off."
Anakin winced, and the portal shut down.
"Don't be discouraged. You are learning far faster than I was at the beginning of my training. Keep up and you will be there soon," he said. It had already been a week, and Anakin had proceeded far faster than anticipated.
All without the need for how the Ancient One had taught him.
The little boy's shoulders straightened up, eyes burning with pride. The determination was broken when his stomach grumbled. Anakin looked down, cheeks burning.
Stephen chuckled, gesturing at him to follow.
—
Mos Espa
Shmi rolled on her bed, her face scrunched. Nightmares plagued her once more. The visions of her son kept asking why she didn't save him. Each time for the last three weeks, she had nothing to say.
"Mom, quick, you have to get up," the visions said, a change from the usual accusing tone. It sounded urgent in fact.
"Ani, I am sorry," she mumbled, still in
"Mom, come on, wake up, please," her son called, his voice sounding far more real than before.
Shmi stood up, looking around her bedroom with bleary eyes. There, right in front of the door, was a golden, swirling circle, with her son looking at her through it.
"Ani?" she said, stumbling out of the bed to run to her son, still believing it was a dream. When she managed to throw her arms around his small body and inhaled his scent, she knew it was real.
"Ani? You are here!" She burst into tears, squeezing her son to her chest.
"My apologies for disrupting your reunion, but there isn't much time," another, older voice called.
"Mom, he is right. We need to hurry."
"Hurry? Ani, what is happening? How are you here?"
"All will be explained. Please, you must gather whatever you need and come through the portal."
Shmi didn't know what was going on, but she understood one thing. Her son was here, through wherever this portal led to, and she would be there. She pressed one last kiss on her son's forehead, rummaging through the wardrobe for clothes and the kitchen for food and medicine.
She stopped in the living room, looking at the droid Anakin was building. She hauled it up by the arms, dragging it to the portal. She raised it up, allowing Anakin and the older man to pull it inside.
With a little bit of help, she too was through just as the golden circle collapsed.
—
Sanctum
Shmi fell forward, accidentally trapping her son. She scrambled to her feet, throwing her arms around her son again. The little boy groaned at how tight the hug was but returned it in kind, burying his face on his mother's neck.
Her silent tears wetted his hair, and it was the most peaceful thing he had ever felt.
Strange watched the mother and son, letting them catch up after weeks of being apart.
"Anakin, you and your mother rest for now. We'll talk in the morning," he said, leaving the room.
Anakin helped his mother to the bed. Tired and emotionally drained, the comfort of having her son back had made her fall asleep before she even hit the bed.
—
He placed the third plate on the table.
The idea of cooking for more than just himself after ten years still felt a bit foreign. The day after Anakin arrived, he had forgotten the boy was there. It made him realize how used he was to loneliness.
Numbed to it, more like.
He heard the footsteps first, prompting him to pour the freshly squeezed juice. Anakin was guiding his mother in, holding her hand tightly. They both had red, puffy eyes, signaling a fresh round of tears had been shed recently.
Shmi's clothing was rough, just like Anakin's was when he arrived. Unlike her son, she had dark hair and a face already worn from the sun.
"Miss Shmi, Anakin, good morning," he greeted. Anakin wished him the same back, but Shmi froze mid-step for a second as her eyes landed on him.
"It's fine, Mom. This is Dr. Strange," Anakin said, squeezing his mother's hand.
"I understand my skin condition looks worrying, but I can assure you it is non-contagious."
"Oh, I am sorry, I was just…" Shmi looked down,
"I understand. Please, take a seat."
"I am Doctor Stephen Strange, a Master of Mystical Arts, an occupation that allows one to open portals like the one you saw last night."
"Right, that. It still feels like a dream to be honest."
"It is not," he said, opening a small portal to pass the glasses.
Anakin reached for the glasses, putting one before his wide-eyed mother.
"Let us eat first before I start with explanations," Strange offered, cutting his eggs.
Shmi poked the food on her plate, unfamiliar with it. She glanced at her son, who was eating with gusto, and decided to give it a try.
—
The breakfast was a short affair. He cleaned the dishes, kindly refusing Shmi's offer. He guided them to the training area to give the confused woman the explanation she was due for.
"As I said, I am Doctor Stephen Strange," he began, introducing himself once more. He continued with how he had arrived in this dimension beneath the sands of Tatooine. Anakin's arrival in the Sanctum through the tunnel he had left for fresh air, his desire to return to Shmi, and of course, Strange offering him an alternative to bring his mother here.
It overwhelmed her.
"I don't know how to thank you, Dr. Strange," Shmi said, giving a small bow. She seemed hesitant about everything, most likely a habit formed from having to ask permission for most things.
He raised a hand, a small, reassuring smile on his face. "You don't have to. Having company after a decade is more than I could ever ask for."
"If you don't mind, though, I have some questions for you."
"Of course."
"Anakin, why don't you go and get some apples?" Strange asked, even though he could have opened a portal for it.
Anakin shrugged, leaving for the kitchen with one last reassuring look at his mother. "Okay."
He waited until Anakin was through the door before giving Shmi an insight into how his sorcery worked and, more importantly, how Anakin seemed to be unnaturally good at it.
"I believe it might be genetic. If not on your side, then perhaps from his father's," he explained. It could be a recessive gene since the boy had blonde hair.
Shmi looked down, avoiding his eyes again. "Anakin doesn't have a father."
Strange grimaced. Whatever happened must have been bad enough that she erased the man completely. Knowing she was enslaved, it brought extremely unpleasant scenarios to mind. "I understand if you don't wish to speak about him."
"Oh no, nothing like that. He truly doesn't have a father. I never had a relationship with anyone before suddenly finding myself pregnant," Shmi said, laying a hand on her stomach.
Her demeanor and voice tone indicated she wasn't lying.
He blinked repeatedly.
He wanted to ask if it could be in vitro fertilization, but who would want to do that in the lawless region of the galaxy to a random woman and let her fall into the hands of a junkyard owner? It made no sense.
He chuckled to himself. If what Shmi said was true, and he was inclined to believe her, then Anakin was something like the galactic Jesus.
The chosen one, as it would be.
With the question of Anakin's parentage resolved, he turned his attention to other matters. Shmi knew more about the galaxy than her son. She was a trove of information, still lacking greatly, but it answered some of the questions he had.
Such as the Galactic Republic, the Jedi to a small degree, and more importantly for now, a safe way to remove the bombs.
Chapter 4 - The Cost of Freedom
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Samael61
Not too sore, are you?
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Hello there,
If you enjoy my stories, you can read up to 15 chapters in advance per story on my Patreon page / patreon.com/Samael61.
Anakin Skywalker is on the path to become one of the greatest figures on the galactic scene. If you want to read an original story of greatness, you can check my story, Arrival : Ruptures. Comments, likes and reviews are appreciated. Here are the links for : AO3, Spacebattles, Royal Road and Webnovel.
Double post today in honor of releasing more than twenty chapters of Arrival : Ruptures, along with the pilot chapter.
—
Tatooine
Sanctum Sanctorum
It quickly became evident that Shmi was not used to staying idle. She tried to help with everything. Rather than deny her outright, he agreed to let her assist in tending to the small farm. Now that there were three of them, he wanted to expand the crops a bit.
An extra pair of hands would come in handy.
He would show her the ropes slowly while Anakin's training continued. With his mother safe, he wanted to become a full-time Master of the Mystical Arts for a different reason.
To free the slaves.
—
"I understand why you want to do this, but it will be a massive undertaking. You can't do it by yourself," Strange said, laying a hand on Anakin's small shoulders. He understood the boy's reasoning and his dreams of becoming a Jedi to free the slaves.
He could not bring himself to deny Anakin the chance to wipe slavery off the surface of this planet but knew he wasn't at the age to carry out a burden like this yet.
"He is right. But there are actually small resistance cells that try to free slaves," Shmi said. It was news to Strange and gave him hope that at least some people were battling against slavery.
"Are they successful?" he asked.
Shmi shook her head. "Not really from what I've heard. The Hutts, pirates, and slaver groups are too strong."
"But what if I help?" Anakin whined.
"Anakin, you are seven years old and too young to go on a galactic crusade," Strange said, his voice firm. This side of the galaxy was horrible enough. Child soldiers did not need to be in that mix.
"He is right, Ani. You are not going to war."
"What about when I am grown up?" he asked.
"Then that will be your choice. Until then, we need to find a medical droid and a deactivator wand. And a way to ensure that the droid works here," Strange said. It was years before Anakin would be old enough to decide his path in life.
"We can't leave the Sanctum without Watto knowing, can we?" his apprentice asked, raising a good point.
"Physically, no. Which is why we are going to have to steal them with portals," he said, smiling at the memories of the times he took books out of the library, right under Wong's nose.
"I don't know where to find any of these."
"Watch," Strange said, taking a meditative position.
Anakin leaned forward, watching as his teacher's eyes closed. A holographic Strange rose from the body, floating around with chains running all over his see-through body.
His eyes widened as the holographic Strange moved away from the real one, passing through objects and becoming briefly invisible. Shmi was watching with an open mouth. She was informed that sorcery could do a lot of things that would be impossible through science, but seeing it was another matter.
"This is my astral form. In the Astral Dimension your soul exists outside your body. Unless you want it, you can't be seen by the people. You also can't interact with the material world. Which makes it the perfect method for you to travel anywhere in the universe without leaving your body."
"I can find a droid and a deactivator wand," Anakin said with a cheerful cadence.
"You can, but first, you will have to finish your portal training."
—
With their lesson plans decided for the foreseeable future, they got to training. In the mornings, he would leave Anakin to train to perfect his portal and show Shmi the ropes on the farm. Each day she became more bold while working, deciding which section to work in and asserting herself as a person.
It was inevitable for an issue to arise quickly.
The galaxy out there was vast. The Galactic Republic had millions of worlds, and the total known galactic population was in the hundreds of quadrillions. The number was so incomparable, he didn't have any way of making it feel real.
That galaxy had hyperdrives, FTL drivers that allowed ships to cross thousands of light years a day. It had advanced sciences on all fronts and naturally a complex political system. They were things he could not teach Anakin. Since they also couldn't bring a teacher down to the Sanctum, an alternative was needed.
Which came in the form of Anakin's droid.
The half-completed robot just consisted of a torso and a head, but Anakin guaranteed it would work once completed. He could apparently add different modules on it, which would grant the robot additional capabilities. It could become a teacher for the subjects Stephen had no useful knowledge on.
Though, it was useless until they figured out a way to allow the droid to work without destroying the protections.
—
Stephen inspected the finished droid. It looked horrible on the outside. A mess of wires and servos that was constructed in the rough shape of a human. After two years of work in his free time while stealing parts from Watto's junkyard, the nine-year-old boy had finally finished the droid.
He wasn't idle either, helping his apprentice to modify the droid.
Anakin had an intuitive gift for understanding machines. Whether it was tied to his equally unnatural talent in drawing energy from other dimensions, he did not know. He also was quick to come up with an idea to build an electromagnetic shield on the droid. Engineering wasn't his field of study, so he let his apprentice do as he wished.
Anakin had already found a deactivator wand, the medical supplies necessary for the procedure, and the medical modules for the droid. With the claws and thin, agile limbs added to the droid, his apprentice was certain it would function properly.
Not that he would let the droid conduct surgery without appropriate tests.
—
"Better than nothing," he shrugged. A synthetic replica of a human body laid on the table. The gelatinous skin was transparent, making the organs clearly visible. It looked and felt truly close to the real deal. There was even a small device inside the replica, stuck to the collarbone.
It definitely would have been useful back in his days as a student.
"Alright, Anakin, is the droid ready?"
"Come on, C-3PO."
"Yes, Master Anakin," the plateless droid said, following the boy along. Its movements were stiff, a far cry from what he had seen Stark's suits were capable of. Still, for a nine-year-old child to build this, it was truly impressive.
The droid stood next to him, waiting for instructions. Anakin and Shmi had their tracking devices placed in the same place, below the left side of their collarbone. "Let's start with a lateral incision here." He gestured, drawing a small line on the body with a marker.
C-3PO followed along, bringing its upper arms close. It laid the vibroscalpel over the left end of the line and pulled. The incision was flawless with a precision only a machine could achieve.
A mechanical tendril entered through the small opening. Its twin prongs had a smaller tendril, thinner than hair, that vibrated to separate the device from the bone. He watched as the prongs clamped on the device and the secondary tendril did its job. Slowly to not leave any internal wounds, it pulled the device out.
C-3PO placed it inside the tray filled with a sterilizing fluid.
His third arm descended, placing a patch that pulled the two sides of the replica flesh together. Usually it would carry bacta, a substance with highly regenerative properties. Since they didn't have much on hand, the patch was bereft of it.
Overall, the surgery was short and extremely successful.
"Can we do it now?"
"Not yet. I want to run some more tests," he said. Since the droid was the only one that could use the deactivator wand due to its EM shielding, he wanted everything to be perfect.
Anakin's face scrunched.
—
"Mom, are you sure about this?" he asked, holding his mother's hand.
"Ani, you are the only one that can fix C-3PO if something goes wrong. I won't let you go through this until I am sure it is safe," she replied, pinching her son's cheek.
"Okay," Anakin grumbled, moving back to let 3PO administer a local anesthetic. Strange watched the procedure, ready to intervene. The tests on the synthetic body were successful, but it still paid to be vigilant.
3PO brought the small cylindrical tool over where the tracking device was on Shmi's collar bone. A small, blue pulse surged out. The small screen on the deactivator wand displayed a green checkmark, showing that the device was neutralized.
The small surgery played exactly the same, lasting less than two minutes.
When 3PO placed the device inside the tray, Strange was quick to teleport it outside just in case. The droid applied the bacta patch next, and it was over.
Anakin rushed to his mom's side, ignoring the droid's protests to let her lie down until the wound closed.
"Master Anakin, should we remove your tracking device now as well?" 3PO asked once he realized the warnings were not heeded.
"He is right, Anakin. Lay down and let's finish this."
His apprentice nodded. Shmi gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, and he walked to the bed on the opposite side, lying down. He was more nervous than his mother was, fiddling with his fingers.
Before he even understood what was happening, the clink of the device being dropped in the tray was heard. 3PO applied another bacta patch, launching into a tirade over the importance of proper rest and nutrition for the healing process.
Strange knew the droid was correct. It didn't stop him from shutting the machine down. He didn't know if one existed, but a know-how-much-to-talk module would be useful for the droid to have.
"How do you feel?" he asked. For the first time in his life, he was not under the threat of death should he disobey an order.
He looked at the ceiling, counting the spots. "I… I don't know."
"Is this what freedom feels like? Like I am about to grow wings and fly?" he asked after a couple of minutes of silence.
"Close enough. Good job, kid," Strange said, ruffling the boy's hair with a smile.
"We can finally visit Mos Espa to buy whatever else we need," Anakin said. They could sell fresh vegetables and use the pigments to buy different foods and mechanical parts. Stealing from Watto was becoming dangerous with each attempt.
"Maybe wait until you can defend yourself and your mother," he said. With his portal and astral projection training complete, Anakin was left to focus on C-3PO. He could afford to start teaching his apprentice how to fight long enough to escape in case of danger.
He was still too young to consider staying back to fight.
In the hands of a proper master, the mystical arts would be deadly. In the hands of a nine-year-old with a deep-seated hatred against slavers, it would end with a trauma for the boy.
—
To celebrate Anakin and Shmi's freedom, Strange baked a cake. Sugar and chocolate were some of the few commodities he couldn't grow on the farm and made sure to use them sparingly. The occasion deserved something special, though, and once up there, perhaps Anakin and Shmi could buy them.
That is if chocolate existed in the galaxy.
Shmi helped, always delighted to learn a new recipe. The cake was a simple, single-layer one with plenty of fruit decorations. Between that and juices, the evening was spent in a state of newfound peace.
The following morning, Anakin was in the training field earlier than Strange, waiting. They started with Tao Mandalas and basic fighting techniques. His body wasn't grown enough yet for more strenuous work.
For now, the training would continue without pushing the boy too much.
—
On the other side of the galaxy, a crisis reared its head. Naboo had come under the invasion of the Trade Federation. The young queen of the peaceful world, Padmé Amidala, had managed to escape with a Jedi Master and his apprentice, eventually reaching Tatooine to find a replacement hyperdrive.
Through a stroke of fortune, or something more that most citizens of the galaxy did not understand, they were able to earn the part they needed in a wager.
Upon returning to the capital of the Galactic Republic, the city-planet Coruscant, Queen Amidala pleaded with the senate to assist Naboo in repelling this invasion. Due to the corruption within, her pleas fell on deaf ears.
Advised by her planet's ambassador to the Galactic Senate, she called for a vote of no confidence against the current chancellor, presenting the very same ambassador as the new Chancellor of the Galactic Republic.
The vote went through, but it would be too late by the time assistance was rendered to Naboo.
Leaving the capital, Queen Amidala decided on a radical plan to take the Viceroy Nute Gunray hostage to force him to end the occupation. The small armed forces of Naboo, in a surprise alliance with their disgruntled neighbors, the Gungans, launched a counterattack.
The element of surprise did not last long against the superior numbers of the Trade Federations.
Legions of droids, supplanted by hovertanks, bombers, and ships in orbit, could not be defeated by the paltry force. Queen Amidala was aware of this, however. She used the opportunity provided by the chaos to achieve her purpose, taking Nute Gunray hostage at gunpoint.
Fearing for his life and fearing what would happen if he displeased his master, Nute Gunray made an uncharacteristic gamble. He wagered the peace-loving queen would not dare shoot an unarmed being, especially not when he was more valuable as a hostage.
His decision proved to be correct at first.
As her forces were being slaughtered, Queen Amidala made a choice that no one thought she was capable of. Her daring action scared the remaining members of the Trade Federation into backing off, eventually abandoning the planet.
Her victory came at a personal cost.
A Zabrak assassin, who had slain the Jedi Master assigned to guard her, managed to escape from the apprentice long enough to find her. His blood red lightsaber carved through her guards and several of her handmaidens, leaving her as the sole target.
She managed to dodge the first and second attacks, earning a scar over her left eye from the third and losing her left hand to the fourth strike. Before the finishing blow ended her life, the young Jedi arrived, pushing the assassin back and decapitating him after a grueling duel.
Queen Amidala was rushed to the nearest hospital. The lightsaber had cauterized the wound, preventing bleeding. She was still in shock over losing a limb to a plasma sword, which extended her treatment.
When the battered Queen of Naboo emerged, it wasn't with the reassuring smiles the citizens were used to, but with the gaze of a woman who had lost too much.
If you enjoy my stories, you can read up to 15 chapters in advance per story on my Patreon page / patreon.com/Samael61.
Anakin Skywalker is on the path to become one of the greatest figures on the galactic scene. If you want to read an original story of greatness, you can check my story, Arrival : Ruptures. Comments, likes and reviews are appreciated. Here are the links for : AO3, Spacebattles, Royal Road and Webnovel.
Double post today in honor of releasing more than twenty chapters of Arrival : Ruptures, along with the pilot chapter.
—
Tatooine
Sanctum Sanctorum
It quickly became evident that Shmi was not used to staying idle. She tried to help with everything. Rather than deny her outright, he agreed to let her assist in tending to the small farm. Now that there were three of them, he wanted to expand the crops a bit.
An extra pair of hands would come in handy.
He would show her the ropes slowly while Anakin's training continued. With his mother safe, he wanted to become a full-time Master of the Mystical Arts for a different reason.
To free the slaves.
—
"I understand why you want to do this, but it will be a massive undertaking. You can't do it by yourself," Strange said, laying a hand on Anakin's small shoulders. He understood the boy's reasoning and his dreams of becoming a Jedi to free the slaves.
He could not bring himself to deny Anakin the chance to wipe slavery off the surface of this planet but knew he wasn't at the age to carry out a burden like this yet.
"He is right. But there are actually small resistance cells that try to free slaves," Shmi said. It was news to Strange and gave him hope that at least some people were battling against slavery.
"Are they successful?" he asked.
Shmi shook her head. "Not really from what I've heard. The Hutts, pirates, and slaver groups are too strong."
"But what if I help?" Anakin whined.
"Anakin, you are seven years old and too young to go on a galactic crusade," Strange said, his voice firm. This side of the galaxy was horrible enough. Child soldiers did not need to be in that mix.
"He is right, Ani. You are not going to war."
"What about when I am grown up?" he asked.
"Then that will be your choice. Until then, we need to find a medical droid and a deactivator wand. And a way to ensure that the droid works here," Strange said. It was years before Anakin would be old enough to decide his path in life.
"We can't leave the Sanctum without Watto knowing, can we?" his apprentice asked, raising a good point.
"Physically, no. Which is why we are going to have to steal them with portals," he said, smiling at the memories of the times he took books out of the library, right under Wong's nose.
"I don't know where to find any of these."
"Watch," Strange said, taking a meditative position.
Anakin leaned forward, watching as his teacher's eyes closed. A holographic Strange rose from the body, floating around with chains running all over his see-through body.
His eyes widened as the holographic Strange moved away from the real one, passing through objects and becoming briefly invisible. Shmi was watching with an open mouth. She was informed that sorcery could do a lot of things that would be impossible through science, but seeing it was another matter.
"This is my astral form. In the Astral Dimension your soul exists outside your body. Unless you want it, you can't be seen by the people. You also can't interact with the material world. Which makes it the perfect method for you to travel anywhere in the universe without leaving your body."
"I can find a droid and a deactivator wand," Anakin said with a cheerful cadence.
"You can, but first, you will have to finish your portal training."
—
With their lesson plans decided for the foreseeable future, they got to training. In the mornings, he would leave Anakin to train to perfect his portal and show Shmi the ropes on the farm. Each day she became more bold while working, deciding which section to work in and asserting herself as a person.
It was inevitable for an issue to arise quickly.
The galaxy out there was vast. The Galactic Republic had millions of worlds, and the total known galactic population was in the hundreds of quadrillions. The number was so incomparable, he didn't have any way of making it feel real.
That galaxy had hyperdrives, FTL drivers that allowed ships to cross thousands of light years a day. It had advanced sciences on all fronts and naturally a complex political system. They were things he could not teach Anakin. Since they also couldn't bring a teacher down to the Sanctum, an alternative was needed.
Which came in the form of Anakin's droid.
The half-completed robot just consisted of a torso and a head, but Anakin guaranteed it would work once completed. He could apparently add different modules on it, which would grant the robot additional capabilities. It could become a teacher for the subjects Stephen had no useful knowledge on.
Though, it was useless until they figured out a way to allow the droid to work without destroying the protections.
—
Stephen inspected the finished droid. It looked horrible on the outside. A mess of wires and servos that was constructed in the rough shape of a human. After two years of work in his free time while stealing parts from Watto's junkyard, the nine-year-old boy had finally finished the droid.
He wasn't idle either, helping his apprentice to modify the droid.
Anakin had an intuitive gift for understanding machines. Whether it was tied to his equally unnatural talent in drawing energy from other dimensions, he did not know. He also was quick to come up with an idea to build an electromagnetic shield on the droid. Engineering wasn't his field of study, so he let his apprentice do as he wished.
Anakin had already found a deactivator wand, the medical supplies necessary for the procedure, and the medical modules for the droid. With the claws and thin, agile limbs added to the droid, his apprentice was certain it would function properly.
Not that he would let the droid conduct surgery without appropriate tests.
—
"Better than nothing," he shrugged. A synthetic replica of a human body laid on the table. The gelatinous skin was transparent, making the organs clearly visible. It looked and felt truly close to the real deal. There was even a small device inside the replica, stuck to the collarbone.
It definitely would have been useful back in his days as a student.
"Alright, Anakin, is the droid ready?"
"Come on, C-3PO."
"Yes, Master Anakin," the plateless droid said, following the boy along. Its movements were stiff, a far cry from what he had seen Stark's suits were capable of. Still, for a nine-year-old child to build this, it was truly impressive.
The droid stood next to him, waiting for instructions. Anakin and Shmi had their tracking devices placed in the same place, below the left side of their collarbone. "Let's start with a lateral incision here." He gestured, drawing a small line on the body with a marker.
C-3PO followed along, bringing its upper arms close. It laid the vibroscalpel over the left end of the line and pulled. The incision was flawless with a precision only a machine could achieve.
A mechanical tendril entered through the small opening. Its twin prongs had a smaller tendril, thinner than hair, that vibrated to separate the device from the bone. He watched as the prongs clamped on the device and the secondary tendril did its job. Slowly to not leave any internal wounds, it pulled the device out.
C-3PO placed it inside the tray filled with a sterilizing fluid.
His third arm descended, placing a patch that pulled the two sides of the replica flesh together. Usually it would carry bacta, a substance with highly regenerative properties. Since they didn't have much on hand, the patch was bereft of it.
Overall, the surgery was short and extremely successful.
"Can we do it now?"
"Not yet. I want to run some more tests," he said. Since the droid was the only one that could use the deactivator wand due to its EM shielding, he wanted everything to be perfect.
Anakin's face scrunched.
—
"Mom, are you sure about this?" he asked, holding his mother's hand.
"Ani, you are the only one that can fix C-3PO if something goes wrong. I won't let you go through this until I am sure it is safe," she replied, pinching her son's cheek.
"Okay," Anakin grumbled, moving back to let 3PO administer a local anesthetic. Strange watched the procedure, ready to intervene. The tests on the synthetic body were successful, but it still paid to be vigilant.
3PO brought the small cylindrical tool over where the tracking device was on Shmi's collar bone. A small, blue pulse surged out. The small screen on the deactivator wand displayed a green checkmark, showing that the device was neutralized.
The small surgery played exactly the same, lasting less than two minutes.
When 3PO placed the device inside the tray, Strange was quick to teleport it outside just in case. The droid applied the bacta patch next, and it was over.
Anakin rushed to his mom's side, ignoring the droid's protests to let her lie down until the wound closed.
"Master Anakin, should we remove your tracking device now as well?" 3PO asked once he realized the warnings were not heeded.
"He is right, Anakin. Lay down and let's finish this."
His apprentice nodded. Shmi gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, and he walked to the bed on the opposite side, lying down. He was more nervous than his mother was, fiddling with his fingers.
Before he even understood what was happening, the clink of the device being dropped in the tray was heard. 3PO applied another bacta patch, launching into a tirade over the importance of proper rest and nutrition for the healing process.
Strange knew the droid was correct. It didn't stop him from shutting the machine down. He didn't know if one existed, but a know-how-much-to-talk module would be useful for the droid to have.
"How do you feel?" he asked. For the first time in his life, he was not under the threat of death should he disobey an order.
He looked at the ceiling, counting the spots. "I… I don't know."
"Is this what freedom feels like? Like I am about to grow wings and fly?" he asked after a couple of minutes of silence.
"Close enough. Good job, kid," Strange said, ruffling the boy's hair with a smile.
"We can finally visit Mos Espa to buy whatever else we need," Anakin said. They could sell fresh vegetables and use the pigments to buy different foods and mechanical parts. Stealing from Watto was becoming dangerous with each attempt.
"Maybe wait until you can defend yourself and your mother," he said. With his portal and astral projection training complete, Anakin was left to focus on C-3PO. He could afford to start teaching his apprentice how to fight long enough to escape in case of danger.
He was still too young to consider staying back to fight.
In the hands of a proper master, the mystical arts would be deadly. In the hands of a nine-year-old with a deep-seated hatred against slavers, it would end with a trauma for the boy.
—
To celebrate Anakin and Shmi's freedom, Strange baked a cake. Sugar and chocolate were some of the few commodities he couldn't grow on the farm and made sure to use them sparingly. The occasion deserved something special, though, and once up there, perhaps Anakin and Shmi could buy them.
That is if chocolate existed in the galaxy.
Shmi helped, always delighted to learn a new recipe. The cake was a simple, single-layer one with plenty of fruit decorations. Between that and juices, the evening was spent in a state of newfound peace.
The following morning, Anakin was in the training field earlier than Strange, waiting. They started with Tao Mandalas and basic fighting techniques. His body wasn't grown enough yet for more strenuous work.
For now, the training would continue without pushing the boy too much.
—
On the other side of the galaxy, a crisis reared its head. Naboo had come under the invasion of the Trade Federation. The young queen of the peaceful world, Padmé Amidala, had managed to escape with a Jedi Master and his apprentice, eventually reaching Tatooine to find a replacement hyperdrive.
Through a stroke of fortune, or something more that most citizens of the galaxy did not understand, they were able to earn the part they needed in a wager.
Upon returning to the capital of the Galactic Republic, the city-planet Coruscant, Queen Amidala pleaded with the senate to assist Naboo in repelling this invasion. Due to the corruption within, her pleas fell on deaf ears.
Advised by her planet's ambassador to the Galactic Senate, she called for a vote of no confidence against the current chancellor, presenting the very same ambassador as the new Chancellor of the Galactic Republic.
The vote went through, but it would be too late by the time assistance was rendered to Naboo.
Leaving the capital, Queen Amidala decided on a radical plan to take the Viceroy Nute Gunray hostage to force him to end the occupation. The small armed forces of Naboo, in a surprise alliance with their disgruntled neighbors, the Gungans, launched a counterattack.
The element of surprise did not last long against the superior numbers of the Trade Federations.
Legions of droids, supplanted by hovertanks, bombers, and ships in orbit, could not be defeated by the paltry force. Queen Amidala was aware of this, however. She used the opportunity provided by the chaos to achieve her purpose, taking Nute Gunray hostage at gunpoint.
Fearing for his life and fearing what would happen if he displeased his master, Nute Gunray made an uncharacteristic gamble. He wagered the peace-loving queen would not dare shoot an unarmed being, especially not when he was more valuable as a hostage.
His decision proved to be correct at first.
As her forces were being slaughtered, Queen Amidala made a choice that no one thought she was capable of. Her daring action scared the remaining members of the Trade Federation into backing off, eventually abandoning the planet.
Her victory came at a personal cost.
A Zabrak assassin, who had slain the Jedi Master assigned to guard her, managed to escape from the apprentice long enough to find her. His blood red lightsaber carved through her guards and several of her handmaidens, leaving her as the sole target.
She managed to dodge the first and second attacks, earning a scar over her left eye from the third and losing her left hand to the fourth strike. Before the finishing blow ended her life, the young Jedi arrived, pushing the assassin back and decapitating him after a grueling duel.
Queen Amidala was rushed to the nearest hospital. The lightsaber had cauterized the wound, preventing bleeding. She was still in shock over losing a limb to a plasma sword, which extended her treatment.
When the battered Queen of Naboo emerged, it wasn't with the reassuring smiles the citizens were used to, but with the gaze of a woman who had lost too much.
The Pilot Chapter
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Samael61
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Tatooine
Fringes of the Northern Dune Sea
26 BBY
Tatooine.
A desert planet under the harsh glare of two suns, plagued by slavery, gangsters, smugglers, and criminals of all kinds, with Jabba the Hutt being the famous ruler of the planet, or at least the closest authority to it.
A hooded figure, clad in a black robe, trousers, knee-high boots, and a matching cloak, stood in the fringes of the Northern Dune Sea, watching the Hutt's palace.
Anakin's hands balled into fists, and the creaking of his gloves almost drowned the noise of his racing heart.
Almost.
It wasn't the time for doubts or second guesses.
The Cloak of Levitation, his master's gift to Anakin, slowly raised him into the air to the level of the palace.
Anakin spread his hands, and hundreds of daggers, shaped with the energies drawn from other dimensions, appeared, glittering in the sky as harbingers of death.
The Hutt's palace was well guarded by Gamorrean guards, numerous armed thugs, bounty hunters, and enforcers, and it would be best to deal with them first.
The apprentice of the Sorcerer Supreme brought his hands forward, palms facing the palace with two mandalas sparking to life, and the knives lurched forward.
They weren't mere knives thrown and forgotten, but each was a sharp blade to pierce through the flesh of these slavers and seek new ones until they were spent. The guards were startled when several of their own died with a splatter of blood and bodily liquid but could not react before it was their turn.
Golden blades were difficult to see under the harsh suns of Tatooine and were too fast for the ordinary guard to shoot.
For the first time in a long time, Jabba the Hutt's palace was under attack, and there wasn't a single attacker in sight.
Still, a sniper managed to locate Anakin, but the blaster bolt heading for his head dissipated before finding its mark, sizzling without even leaving a scratch on the barrier he summoned.
Two blades were guided to the Weequay, one through the head and the other through the chest, before they sought new targets.
Anakin slowly approached the palace, and no more blaster shots came, as the guards were trying to shoot his blades, quite ineffectively. By the time he lowered himself to the entrance, there wasn't a single living being around.
He could hear the footsteps, however, as more guards raced outside to defend the palace.
Unfortunately for them, Anakin was creating another mandala in his hands, one that had sharp teeth and began to spin rapidly, and by the time the first guard was out, the first and last thing he saw was a golden line.
The circular saw, a neat trick his master had taught him, bisected the gamorrean into two equal parts, as well as the one behind him, and continued forward, leaving behind nothing more than butchered corpses.
Anakin stopped, closing his eyes as his stomach churned.
It was one thing to be trained for combat to put an end to the slavery on this planet; it was another matter to kill a living being and see the corpse so closely.
—
Floating over the hallways filled with corpses, he came to Jabba's court but did not see the fat slug anywhere.
"Where is Jabba?"
The slaves did not speak, too afraid, but the idea that Jabba may die prompted them to look at a particular point on the wall, and he understood.
Jabba was running.
Tendrils shot out from several mandalas, tearing the hidden door off, and he followed the trail.
With Jabba's death, this day would be the start of a new beginning.
—
When he found Jabba at the back of the palace, crawling to a repulsor cradle to escape, his path was blocked by a duros, one with a wide hat and a nasty grin.
"Sorry, kiddo, end of the road for you," the duros chuckled, pulling out twin blasters and launching himself up with rocket boots.
The blaster fire met his shields, dissipating at the point of contact and wiping the smirk from the bounty hunter's face.
Anakin summoned the tendrils once more, but this Duros was different from all the others he had killed so far, weaving through them quite successfully. He didn't have the time to waste on the blue sapient and summoned more tendrils.
One caught him on the leg, stopping him from moving, before others wrapped around his arms, the other leg, and torso, cocooning the bounty as he screamed impotently in denial.
Raising his hand to kill the duros, Anakin decided otherwise, as the bounty hunter could be valuable if Jabba was using him as a personal guard.
Opening a portal, he threw the duros into the mirror dimension.
Jabba had reached the repulsor cradle, laughing in glee as the vehicle lurched forward, but soon realized he was not going anywhere.
There was a portal at the front of the repulser, and each time the vehicle passed through, it just moved a few meters back, repeating it over and over, while the attacker watched him with disdain.
Jabba started to order the repulsor to turn left, but the vehicle was cut in two, and as the power died down, the lift failed, and the oversized slug fell unceremoniously.
Anakin sneered as the hutt begged for his life, offering peggats, credits, slaves, and anything else he wanted.
"I want you to die, but no, not yet."
—
Jabba the Hutt was about to arrive at Mos Espa in person to make an announcement, and as his faithful subjects—people who had to pay him for protection—began to arrive due to the overwhelming loyalty—fear of death—they had to the Hutt.
And he arrived, though not in the manner they expected.
There were sparks in the air before it grew into a circle, showing the inside of the palace, and a human boy came out.
Flying.
With Jabba the Hutt floating behind, caged like an animal.
"From this day forward, there will be no more slavery," the boy ordered, watching the stunned crowd, and Jabba screamed in pain as the cage shrunk, enough to hurt, but not enough to kill immediately.
"All the collars and implants will be removed without an exception."
"If I hear any refusals," Jabba screamed again as the walls of the cage began to close on him.
"Or delays," the hut screamed more.
"your" crunch
"Fates," crack.
"Will!" The screams turned to howls.
"be."
"much,"
"Worse." With that final word, Jabba's cries ended as he was crushed to a cube the size of a human.
The crowd was stunned in silence before it was broken by the free people attacking the known slavers.
—
Tatooine, as a whole, was in a state of rebellion.
Jabba the Hutt's public and agonizing execution at the hands of the Sorcerer, as the human was called, regardless of the impossibility of it, had thrown the planet into an uproar. With Jabba and all of his lieutenants and enforcers in the palace dead, the free people, at least those against slavery, had taken up arms.
With the Sorcerer targeting everyone that was on Jabba's payroll or was dabbling in slave trade, even as outnumbered as they were, the Freedom First earned victory after victory.
It did not take long before the matter came to the attention of the rest of the Hutt Cartel and the Galactic Republic. The Senate was worried about the political and security issues that might arise due to the unrest, while the Jedi Council just assumed another Force user had just deemed it sorcery and was shaking their heads, quite disappointed.
Until they saw the footage of a human opening portals with a wave of his hand, summoning energy shields, tendrils, daggers, and many other abilities that were not possible to acquire through the Force.
However, the Jedi Council wasn't the only party interested in these mysterious abilities.
—
Coruscant
Core Worlds
Jedi Temple
"I have no words." Master Adi Gallia was the first one to speak after the footage of the battles on Tatooine was over.
Throughout galactic history, there were dozens of Force sensitives with power beyond most, cementing them as legendary monsters.
None, however, could do the unnatural abilities showcased by the human in the recording. Energy shields, blades, tendrils, honest to the Force, actual portals, and more.
All created with the wave of a hand.
"Could this be the work of unknown technology?" Mace Windu wasn't quite ready to believe that there was a human, or any other species out in the galaxy, that could use the Force in this manner.
Not without more evidence than the holo recordings.
The Cerean Jedi Master, Ki-Adi-Mundi, considered Master Windu's point, but there was a small issue: "If it was, why introduce it as sorcery?"
Uttering the word left a sour taste on his tongue, as every now and then a cult believing the Force to be a source of primitive magic would arise, though obviously none with the abilities of the young human.
"To hide it. Everyone in the galaxy can seek to retrieve a highly advanced piece of technology. But only a select few would do so if it were branded as something mystical." Master Rancisis, the ancient Thisspiasian Jedi Master and a contemplative strategist, offered his thoughts.
It would be a logical choice by the sorcerer to dissuade most of the galaxy from targeting his technology if it were indeed technology and not a new method of Force using that they had never encountered before.
"While it is possible, I find it highly improbable. Even if we delved into myths and legends, finding a device, or devices, capable of doing all this while being small enough to be hidden on a human would prove to be extremely challenging. Master Piell knew that debating without further evidence was pointless.
Grand Master Yoda, who was content with listening so far, tapped his cane on the floor. "Correct, Master Piell is. Investigate this sorcerer further; we must."
The ancient Jedi was not sure if the Force was even at play in this case, but his knowledge acquired through centuries failed him.
"Knight Kenobi, you were on Tatooine during the Naboo Crisis. Do you remember anything that might be related to this sorcerer?" Master Koth was aware that it was a stretch, but not many Jedi found their path leading them to Tatooine, and he was the only one in the Council Chambers to have been there.
"I am afraid not, Master Koth." The young Obi-Wan Kenobi shook his head.
Something like that would have been quite memorable.
A unanimous decision was reached to send an investigation team to Tatooine to determine whether this sorcerer was a never-before-seen kind of Force user or something else.
Due to his previous experience on Tatooine, Knight Kenobi was chosen to accompany the team that would be led by Master Plo-Koon, along with Quinlan Vos.
—
Tatooine
The Freedom First, a movement created by the free people of Tatooine, along with the slaves liberated during their war against the oppressors,
Anakin created a large mandala, blocking the incoming blaster fire, while the fighters of the Freedom First used the opportunity given by the shield to return fire without the fear of death, an advantage the slavers did not enjoy.
"Rocket!" A soldier shouted in warning, but Anakin had already opened a portal with it, causing the rocket to enter and come out of the other end, right in the middle of the Weequays firing the heavy blasters.
The enemy was pulling back slowly, which meant it was the time to finish this. The mandala grew in size, and Anakin pushed it forward. The screen of energy slammed into the pirates with the force of a podracer, leaving them with pulverized bones and flesh turned to a paste.
The freedom fighters rushed forward, taking what weapons were in good condition, and proceeded to clean the rest of the compound.
Anakin had started a war by executing Jabba in public between the people who wished for freedom for all and the slavers that were defiant in the face of his warnings. They constituted a significant part, but there were those that had set their slaves free and were left untouched.
Still, they were winning, and each victory cowed more slave owners into compliance, and he wouldn't stop until all of Tatooine was free and then the Outer Rim.
—
The Hutt Cartel was not going to let the revolts in Tatooine take the planet. It would be bad for business and might give others ideas. The records of the battles convinced the Cartel that it was the work of a Force user, and it hired the most elite bounty hunters across the galaxy, with known success against the Jedi.
Jango Fett, the greatest bounty hunter alive, would lead a team consisting of Aurra Sing, Zam Wesell, Bossk, Black Krssantan, and Dengar, along with a dozen IG-series assassin droids.
Cad Bane was sought after as well, but the Duros was nowhere to be found.
Once the leader of this rebellion, its symbol, was dead, the Hutts would sweep in and take Tatooine back, along with all of Jabba's assets.
—
"Hey, Mom," Anakin greeted his mother as he stepped out of the portal, still floating to not dirty the floor with dust and grime, but a spell took care of it quickly.
"Anakin, there you are." Shmi came out of the kitchen of their modest home, wiped her hands on the apron, and cupped her son's face, checking him for injuries.
His son huffed while she fussed over him. "How are you doing? You're not hurt, are you?"
"No, Mom, not even a scratch on me." Anakin took his mother's hands off his face, giving her a hug.
Satisfied, Shmi pointed. "Good, go on and wash up; I made dinner."
Having running hot water was a luxury of the highest order in a place such as Tatooine, and it was one Anakin indulged in whenever available. Once cleaned and dressed in casual clothes, he sat down, ready to partake in the small feast his mother had prepared.
He was a growing boy after all.
"How is it going out there?" Shmi was constantly worried about her son, and hearing news of victories each day helped her heart settle down.
"Good, good, we took most of Mos Eisley, and we are going to finish it soon."
The battles raged all over the planet, from the capital city Bestine to the small settlements like Wayfar, but without Anakin's direct help, the Freedom Movement could only force a stalemate, but it was changing each day as he directed supplies and manpower with portals.
The logistical and strategic advantage of his portals could quickly change the outcome of any battle. They could flank the enemy, make traps and security measures useless, and sabotage or steal strategic assets, such as fuel and supply depots.
And there was not a single thing the slaver scum could do.
Just like all good things, however, Anakin knew the situation wouldn't continue like this forever, not when the damn slugs were out there, no doubt planning a way to snuff out the rebellion.
Unfortunately for them, once he was finished on Tatooine, he would assassinate the members of the Cartel, preferably all at once, decapitating the criminal syndicate in one move and leaving a power vacuum that would result in a civil war among the remaining hutts.
Not now, but soon.
Fringes of the Northern Dune Sea
26 BBY
Tatooine.
A desert planet under the harsh glare of two suns, plagued by slavery, gangsters, smugglers, and criminals of all kinds, with Jabba the Hutt being the famous ruler of the planet, or at least the closest authority to it.
A hooded figure, clad in a black robe, trousers, knee-high boots, and a matching cloak, stood in the fringes of the Northern Dune Sea, watching the Hutt's palace.
Anakin's hands balled into fists, and the creaking of his gloves almost drowned the noise of his racing heart.
Almost.
It wasn't the time for doubts or second guesses.
The Cloak of Levitation, his master's gift to Anakin, slowly raised him into the air to the level of the palace.
Anakin spread his hands, and hundreds of daggers, shaped with the energies drawn from other dimensions, appeared, glittering in the sky as harbingers of death.
The Hutt's palace was well guarded by Gamorrean guards, numerous armed thugs, bounty hunters, and enforcers, and it would be best to deal with them first.
The apprentice of the Sorcerer Supreme brought his hands forward, palms facing the palace with two mandalas sparking to life, and the knives lurched forward.
They weren't mere knives thrown and forgotten, but each was a sharp blade to pierce through the flesh of these slavers and seek new ones until they were spent. The guards were startled when several of their own died with a splatter of blood and bodily liquid but could not react before it was their turn.
Golden blades were difficult to see under the harsh suns of Tatooine and were too fast for the ordinary guard to shoot.
For the first time in a long time, Jabba the Hutt's palace was under attack, and there wasn't a single attacker in sight.
Still, a sniper managed to locate Anakin, but the blaster bolt heading for his head dissipated before finding its mark, sizzling without even leaving a scratch on the barrier he summoned.
Two blades were guided to the Weequay, one through the head and the other through the chest, before they sought new targets.
Anakin slowly approached the palace, and no more blaster shots came, as the guards were trying to shoot his blades, quite ineffectively. By the time he lowered himself to the entrance, there wasn't a single living being around.
He could hear the footsteps, however, as more guards raced outside to defend the palace.
Unfortunately for them, Anakin was creating another mandala in his hands, one that had sharp teeth and began to spin rapidly, and by the time the first guard was out, the first and last thing he saw was a golden line.
The circular saw, a neat trick his master had taught him, bisected the gamorrean into two equal parts, as well as the one behind him, and continued forward, leaving behind nothing more than butchered corpses.
Anakin stopped, closing his eyes as his stomach churned.
It was one thing to be trained for combat to put an end to the slavery on this planet; it was another matter to kill a living being and see the corpse so closely.
—
Floating over the hallways filled with corpses, he came to Jabba's court but did not see the fat slug anywhere.
"Where is Jabba?"
The slaves did not speak, too afraid, but the idea that Jabba may die prompted them to look at a particular point on the wall, and he understood.
Jabba was running.
Tendrils shot out from several mandalas, tearing the hidden door off, and he followed the trail.
With Jabba's death, this day would be the start of a new beginning.
—
When he found Jabba at the back of the palace, crawling to a repulsor cradle to escape, his path was blocked by a duros, one with a wide hat and a nasty grin.
"Sorry, kiddo, end of the road for you," the duros chuckled, pulling out twin blasters and launching himself up with rocket boots.
The blaster fire met his shields, dissipating at the point of contact and wiping the smirk from the bounty hunter's face.
Anakin summoned the tendrils once more, but this Duros was different from all the others he had killed so far, weaving through them quite successfully. He didn't have the time to waste on the blue sapient and summoned more tendrils.
One caught him on the leg, stopping him from moving, before others wrapped around his arms, the other leg, and torso, cocooning the bounty as he screamed impotently in denial.
Raising his hand to kill the duros, Anakin decided otherwise, as the bounty hunter could be valuable if Jabba was using him as a personal guard.
Opening a portal, he threw the duros into the mirror dimension.
Jabba had reached the repulsor cradle, laughing in glee as the vehicle lurched forward, but soon realized he was not going anywhere.
There was a portal at the front of the repulser, and each time the vehicle passed through, it just moved a few meters back, repeating it over and over, while the attacker watched him with disdain.
Jabba started to order the repulsor to turn left, but the vehicle was cut in two, and as the power died down, the lift failed, and the oversized slug fell unceremoniously.
Anakin sneered as the hutt begged for his life, offering peggats, credits, slaves, and anything else he wanted.
"I want you to die, but no, not yet."
—
Jabba the Hutt was about to arrive at Mos Espa in person to make an announcement, and as his faithful subjects—people who had to pay him for protection—began to arrive due to the overwhelming loyalty—fear of death—they had to the Hutt.
And he arrived, though not in the manner they expected.
There were sparks in the air before it grew into a circle, showing the inside of the palace, and a human boy came out.
Flying.
With Jabba the Hutt floating behind, caged like an animal.
"From this day forward, there will be no more slavery," the boy ordered, watching the stunned crowd, and Jabba screamed in pain as the cage shrunk, enough to hurt, but not enough to kill immediately.
"All the collars and implants will be removed without an exception."
"If I hear any refusals," Jabba screamed again as the walls of the cage began to close on him.
"Or delays," the hut screamed more.
"your" crunch
"Fates," crack.
"Will!" The screams turned to howls.
"be."
"much,"
"Worse." With that final word, Jabba's cries ended as he was crushed to a cube the size of a human.
The crowd was stunned in silence before it was broken by the free people attacking the known slavers.
—
Tatooine, as a whole, was in a state of rebellion.
Jabba the Hutt's public and agonizing execution at the hands of the Sorcerer, as the human was called, regardless of the impossibility of it, had thrown the planet into an uproar. With Jabba and all of his lieutenants and enforcers in the palace dead, the free people, at least those against slavery, had taken up arms.
With the Sorcerer targeting everyone that was on Jabba's payroll or was dabbling in slave trade, even as outnumbered as they were, the Freedom First earned victory after victory.
It did not take long before the matter came to the attention of the rest of the Hutt Cartel and the Galactic Republic. The Senate was worried about the political and security issues that might arise due to the unrest, while the Jedi Council just assumed another Force user had just deemed it sorcery and was shaking their heads, quite disappointed.
Until they saw the footage of a human opening portals with a wave of his hand, summoning energy shields, tendrils, daggers, and many other abilities that were not possible to acquire through the Force.
However, the Jedi Council wasn't the only party interested in these mysterious abilities.
—
Coruscant
Core Worlds
Jedi Temple
"I have no words." Master Adi Gallia was the first one to speak after the footage of the battles on Tatooine was over.
Throughout galactic history, there were dozens of Force sensitives with power beyond most, cementing them as legendary monsters.
None, however, could do the unnatural abilities showcased by the human in the recording. Energy shields, blades, tendrils, honest to the Force, actual portals, and more.
All created with the wave of a hand.
"Could this be the work of unknown technology?" Mace Windu wasn't quite ready to believe that there was a human, or any other species out in the galaxy, that could use the Force in this manner.
Not without more evidence than the holo recordings.
The Cerean Jedi Master, Ki-Adi-Mundi, considered Master Windu's point, but there was a small issue: "If it was, why introduce it as sorcery?"
Uttering the word left a sour taste on his tongue, as every now and then a cult believing the Force to be a source of primitive magic would arise, though obviously none with the abilities of the young human.
"To hide it. Everyone in the galaxy can seek to retrieve a highly advanced piece of technology. But only a select few would do so if it were branded as something mystical." Master Rancisis, the ancient Thisspiasian Jedi Master and a contemplative strategist, offered his thoughts.
It would be a logical choice by the sorcerer to dissuade most of the galaxy from targeting his technology if it were indeed technology and not a new method of Force using that they had never encountered before.
"While it is possible, I find it highly improbable. Even if we delved into myths and legends, finding a device, or devices, capable of doing all this while being small enough to be hidden on a human would prove to be extremely challenging. Master Piell knew that debating without further evidence was pointless.
Grand Master Yoda, who was content with listening so far, tapped his cane on the floor. "Correct, Master Piell is. Investigate this sorcerer further; we must."
The ancient Jedi was not sure if the Force was even at play in this case, but his knowledge acquired through centuries failed him.
"Knight Kenobi, you were on Tatooine during the Naboo Crisis. Do you remember anything that might be related to this sorcerer?" Master Koth was aware that it was a stretch, but not many Jedi found their path leading them to Tatooine, and he was the only one in the Council Chambers to have been there.
"I am afraid not, Master Koth." The young Obi-Wan Kenobi shook his head.
Something like that would have been quite memorable.
A unanimous decision was reached to send an investigation team to Tatooine to determine whether this sorcerer was a never-before-seen kind of Force user or something else.
Due to his previous experience on Tatooine, Knight Kenobi was chosen to accompany the team that would be led by Master Plo-Koon, along with Quinlan Vos.
—
Tatooine
The Freedom First, a movement created by the free people of Tatooine, along with the slaves liberated during their war against the oppressors,
Anakin created a large mandala, blocking the incoming blaster fire, while the fighters of the Freedom First used the opportunity given by the shield to return fire without the fear of death, an advantage the slavers did not enjoy.
"Rocket!" A soldier shouted in warning, but Anakin had already opened a portal with it, causing the rocket to enter and come out of the other end, right in the middle of the Weequays firing the heavy blasters.
The enemy was pulling back slowly, which meant it was the time to finish this. The mandala grew in size, and Anakin pushed it forward. The screen of energy slammed into the pirates with the force of a podracer, leaving them with pulverized bones and flesh turned to a paste.
The freedom fighters rushed forward, taking what weapons were in good condition, and proceeded to clean the rest of the compound.
Anakin had started a war by executing Jabba in public between the people who wished for freedom for all and the slavers that were defiant in the face of his warnings. They constituted a significant part, but there were those that had set their slaves free and were left untouched.
Still, they were winning, and each victory cowed more slave owners into compliance, and he wouldn't stop until all of Tatooine was free and then the Outer Rim.
—
The Hutt Cartel was not going to let the revolts in Tatooine take the planet. It would be bad for business and might give others ideas. The records of the battles convinced the Cartel that it was the work of a Force user, and it hired the most elite bounty hunters across the galaxy, with known success against the Jedi.
Jango Fett, the greatest bounty hunter alive, would lead a team consisting of Aurra Sing, Zam Wesell, Bossk, Black Krssantan, and Dengar, along with a dozen IG-series assassin droids.
Cad Bane was sought after as well, but the Duros was nowhere to be found.
Once the leader of this rebellion, its symbol, was dead, the Hutts would sweep in and take Tatooine back, along with all of Jabba's assets.
—
"Hey, Mom," Anakin greeted his mother as he stepped out of the portal, still floating to not dirty the floor with dust and grime, but a spell took care of it quickly.
"Anakin, there you are." Shmi came out of the kitchen of their modest home, wiped her hands on the apron, and cupped her son's face, checking him for injuries.
His son huffed while she fussed over him. "How are you doing? You're not hurt, are you?"
"No, Mom, not even a scratch on me." Anakin took his mother's hands off his face, giving her a hug.
Satisfied, Shmi pointed. "Good, go on and wash up; I made dinner."
Having running hot water was a luxury of the highest order in a place such as Tatooine, and it was one Anakin indulged in whenever available. Once cleaned and dressed in casual clothes, he sat down, ready to partake in the small feast his mother had prepared.
He was a growing boy after all.
"How is it going out there?" Shmi was constantly worried about her son, and hearing news of victories each day helped her heart settle down.
"Good, good, we took most of Mos Eisley, and we are going to finish it soon."
The battles raged all over the planet, from the capital city Bestine to the small settlements like Wayfar, but without Anakin's direct help, the Freedom Movement could only force a stalemate, but it was changing each day as he directed supplies and manpower with portals.
The logistical and strategic advantage of his portals could quickly change the outcome of any battle. They could flank the enemy, make traps and security measures useless, and sabotage or steal strategic assets, such as fuel and supply depots.
And there was not a single thing the slaver scum could do.
Just like all good things, however, Anakin knew the situation wouldn't continue like this forever, not when the damn slugs were out there, no doubt planning a way to snuff out the rebellion.
Unfortunately for them, once he was finished on Tatooine, he would assassinate the members of the Cartel, preferably all at once, decapitating the criminal syndicate in one move and leaving a power vacuum that would result in a civil war among the remaining hutts.
Not now, but soon.
Lillie Jones
Connoisseur.
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thanks for the chapters
Mastersgt
Well worn.
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Hmm... a few odd things here. Jabba, to my knowledge, is not the only Hutt on Tatooine, and I'm unsure whether he rules the entire planet, or just portions of it.
I don't get why strange would have any difficulty removing the bombs from them, when he has spells to locate, disable, and remove just about anything. From Technology, Tracking Devices, and even parasites. Both Magical and Mundane. So you'd think he'd have some spell he could use here.
I don't get why strange would have any difficulty removing the bombs from them, when he has spells to locate, disable, and remove just about anything. From Technology, Tracking Devices, and even parasites. Both Magical and Mundane. So you'd think he'd have some spell he could use here.
some one
Versed in the lewd.
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Pretty much all of this can be done with just the force some of it even by jedi
Their are force abilities that grant teleportation and think their are a few jedi masters in legends that can use them
The energy shields are just an application of Titimunis and energy blades and tendrils telekinesis
Hell the sith have umbramancy themed set of abilities that allow for stuff like black tentacles crawling out of the shadows that drain the life of whatever they touch
Abyss Trinity
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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The Jedi have lost a Lot of knowledge about what the Force can do, well Legends Jedi. Disney canon Force has been weakened to a grounded level while Legends is Cosmic level. I don't know if this is Disney verse or Legends verse. Awesome fanfiction!
Radek
Promethean
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Maul is dead and Queen Amidala will never be the same after this. Would she still demand to limit the monarchy to two terms? Or agree to serve as Senator of Naboo if she does?
Obi-Wan still lost his Master, but has no Padawan to train. What is he likely to do now?
Without an almost perfect future Apprentice just waiting to come to him, where does Sidious turn for a chief enforcer of his planned New Order? Dooku is old, and was never planned to serve in that role anyway.
Obi-Wan still lost his Master, but has no Padawan to train. What is he likely to do now?
Without an almost perfect future Apprentice just waiting to come to him, where does Sidious turn for a chief enforcer of his planned New Order? Dooku is old, and was never planned to serve in that role anyway.
TheGeneral03
Not too sore, are you?
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TFTC