C-3PO looked at them. "How do you do? I am a protocol droid trained in and adept at cyborg relatives... customs and humans..."
"Ooops," Anakin said quickly. "He's a little confused."
He snatched up a long-handled tool with an electronic designator and fitted it carefully to a port in C-3PO's head, then ratcheted the handle several turns, studying the setting as he did so. When he had it where he wanted, he pushed a button on the handle. C-3PO jerked several times in response. When Anakin removed the designator, the droid stood up from the workbench and faced Padme.
"How do you do? I am See - Threepio, human-cyborg relations. How may I serve you?"
Anakin shrugged. "I just named him the other day, but I forgot to enter the code in his memory banks so he could tell you himself. "
Padme grinned at Anakin, delighted. "He's perfect!"
R2-D2 sidled up to them and emitted a sharp flurry of beeps and whistles.
C-3PO glanced down curiously. "I beg your pardon... what do you mean, I'm naked?"
R2-D2 beeped some more.
"Goodness! How embarrassing!" C-3PO glanced quickly over his skeletal limbs. "My parts are showing? My goodness!"
Anakin pursed his lips. "Sort of But don't worry, I'll fix that soon enough." He eased the droid back toward the workbench, glancing over his shoulder at Padme. "When the storm is over, you can see my racer. I'm building a Podracer. But Watto doesn't know about it. It's a secret."
Padme smiled. "That's okay. I'm very good at keeping secrets. "
The storm continued throughout the remainder of the day, engulfing Mos Espa, sand blown in from the desert piling up against the shuttered buildings, forming ramps against doorways and walls, clouding the air, and shutting out the light. Shmi Skywalker used the food capsules Qui-Gon had given her to prepare dinner for them. As she worked on their meal and while Padme was occupied with Anakin in the other room, Qui-Gon moved off alone into one corner and surreptitiously contacted Obi-Wan on the comlink. The connection was less than perfect, but they were able to communicate sufficiendy for the Jedi Master to learn of the transmission from Naboo.
"You made the right choice, Obi-Wan," he assured his young protege, keeping his voice low.
"The Queen is very upset," the other advised, his response crackling through the storm.
Qui-Gon glanced over to where Shmi was standing at the cook surface, her back turned. "That transmission was bait to establish a trace. I'm certain of it."
"But what if Governor Bibble is telling the truth and the Naboo are dying?"
Qui-Gon sighed. "Either way, we're running out of time," he advised quiedy, and ended the transmission.
They sat down to eat Shmi's dinner a short while after, the storm still howling without, an eerie backdrop of sound against the silence within. Qui-Gon and Padme occupied the ends of the table, while Anakin, Jar Jar, and Shmi sat at its sides. Anakin, in the way of small boys, began talking about life as a slave, in no way embarrassed to be doing so, thinking of it only as a fact of his life and anxious to share himself with his new friends. Shmi, more protective of her son's station, was making an effort to help their guests appreciate the severity of their situation."
All slaves have transmitters placed inside their bodies," Shmi was explaining.
"I've been working on a scanner to try to locate them, but so far no luck," Anakin said solemnly.
Shmi smiled. "Any attempt at escape..."
"... and they blow you up!" the boy finished. "Poofl"
Jar Jar had been slurping contentedly at his soup, listening with half an ear as he devoured the very tasty broth. He overdid it on hearing this, however, making such a loud noise that he stopped conversation altogether. All eyes turned on him momentarily. He lowered his head in embarrassment and pretended not to see.
Padme looked back at Shmi. "I can't believe slavery is still permitted in the galaxy. The Republic's antislavery laws should-"
"The Republic doesn't exist out here," Shmi interrupted quickly, her voice hard. "We must survive on our own."
There was an awkward silence as Padme looked away, not knowing what else to say.
"Have you ever seen a Podrace?" Anakin asked, trying to ease her discomfort.
Padme shook her head no. She glanced at Shmi, noting the sudden concern on the woman's lined face. Jar Jar launched his tongue at a morsel of food nestled deep in a serving bowl at the far end of the table, deftly plucking it out, drawing it in, swallowing it, and smacking his lips in satisfaction. A disapproving look from Qui-Gon quickly silenced him.
"They have Podracing on Malastare," the Jedi Master observed. "Very fast, very dangerous."
Anakin grinned. "I'm the only human who can do it!" A sharp glance from his mother wiped the grin from his face. "Mom, what? I'm not bragging. It's true! Watto says he's never heard of a human doing it."
Qui-Gon studied him carefully. "You must have Jedi reflexes if you race Pods."
Anakin smiled broadly at the compliment. Jar Jar's tongue snaked toward the serving bowl in an effort to snare another morsel, but this time Qui-Gon was waiting hand moved swiftly, and in a heartbeat he had secured the Gungan's tongue between his thumb and forefinger. Jar Jar froze, his mouth open, his tongue held fast, his eyes wide.
"Don't do that again," Qui-Gon advised, an edge to his soft voice.
Jar Jar tried to say something, but it came out an unintelligible mumble. Qui-Gon released the Gungan's tongue, and it snapped back into place. Jar Jar massaged his billed mouth ruefully.
Anakin's young face lifted to the older man's, and his voice was hesitant. "I... I was wondering something."
Qui-Gon nodded for him to continue.
The boy cleared his throat, screwing up his courage. "You're a Jedi Knight, aren't you?"
There was a long moment of silence as the man and the boy stared at each other. "What makes you think that?" Qui-Gon asked finally.
Anakin swallowed. "I saw your lightsaber. Only Jedi Knights carry that kind of weapon."
Qui-Gon continued to stare at him, then leaned back slowly in his chair and smiled. "Perhaps I killed a Jedi and stole it from him."
Anakin shook his head quickly. "I don't think so. No one can kill a Jedi."
Qui-Gon's smile faded and there was a hint of sadness in his dark eyes. "I wish that were so..."