Star Wars: This Is My Saga!

Cutting to the small, makeshift abode where the twins had grown over the past few years, Anakin, now a free young nine year old boy with Watto being terrified of the Tuskens, with a mop of blond hair and a penchant for helping Arna tinkering with machines, most notably C-3PO, sat cross-legged on the dusty floor, his eyes glued to a set of worn, hand-sketched notes. His mind raced with thoughts of the epic tale he had watched countless times in his last life: "The Phantom Menace."

As he traced the lines of the notes with a finger, his thoughts strayed from the distant battles of the Jedi and the Sith, and instead focused on the more immediate concerns of his life. Shmi, his mother, had become a valued servant of Watto, the cruel Toydarian junk dealer who had once enslaved them.

Her kindness and gentle nature had not gone unnoticed, and she had earned a small measure of respect from the creature, though it was clear to Anakin that she was never truly free. His sister, Arna, grew more skilled with her pretend lightsaber each day, her dedication to the Force and the cause unwavering.

Yet, there was a heaviness in her eyes that spoke of a burden she carried, a burden that Anakin could not fully comprehend. The sands of Tatooine had shaped their lives in ways they could never have imagined, and as he pondered the mysteries of the Force and the destiny that awaited them, the whispers of the Force grew louder, urging him to something unknown.

Anakin felt his heart race as he peered through the dusty window of their small hut, the whispers of the desert growing ever louder in his ears. He knew that any day now, Qui-Gon Jinn, his Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, and the mysterious Padme Amidala could arrive on the sands of Tatooine, their ship damaged and their lives in peril.

He had watched the Jedi in the shows and movies, guardians of peace and justice, but also of their strict code, a code that did not align with the path of choice that consumed him. Anakin knew that their arrival would be the catalyst for the Skywalker Saga.

He clutched the makeshift staff he had found from scraps found in Watto's junkyard, the weapon a symbol of the power he longed to wield. Would he stand alongside the Jedi, slowly reforming them, as Anakin had, or would he be forced to confront them as enemies eventually?

The sands shifted restlessly beneath his feet, as if the very planet itself awaited the answer to the question that burned in his soul. His eyes never leaving the horizon, Anakin felt the weight of destiny pressing down upon him, and he knew that when the stars aligned, he would have to choose a side in the unfolding saga of his and the galaxy's fate.

The day arrived, the air thick with anticipation, as the distant whine of a damaged starship grew louder, piercing the stillness of the desert. Anakin's grip tightened around his makeshift lightsaber, the vibrations of the approaching vessel resonating through his body.

Yet, as the ship somewhat gracefully descended, its shadow casting a dark shroud over the dunes, a sudden stillness fell over the

outer city limits. Anakin's eyes widened with awe as the vessel, a gleaming symbol of power and technology, touched down, its landing gear sinking slightly into the welcoming sands.

He watched, his heart pounding in his chest, as the boarding ramp extended, and three figures emerged into the fading light. The first was a stoic, middle aged cloaked figure, his eyes a piercing blue, the second a young, apprentice companion to the first, and the last, a beautifully and regally dressed young girl whose very presence seemed to calm the restless desert spirits.

They were just like Anakin had remembered and in that moment, the prophecy's whispers grew clearer. This was it, the moment that would define the galaxy's future, the moment that would decide the fate of his people and the path he would walk.

With a deep breath, he stepped forward, the sands whispering his name, and the prophecy's embrace enveloped him as he approached the strangers from the stars, unsure of the role he was destined to play in the unfolding drama of Tatooine.

Anakin approached the trio with a cautious stride, the sands swirling around his feet as he moved closer to the shadow of the ship that had brought them here. His heart thudded like a war drum, echoing the pulse of the prophecy that had been his constant companion. As he reached the base of the ramp, he met the gaze of the stoic, cloaked figure and felt a strange kinship, as if the man could see into his very soul. With a tremble in his voice, the young Tusken spoke the words that would forever change the course of his life.

"I am Anakin," he said, his eyes never leaving the Jedi's, "and my sister Arna, we . . . we are special. We have . . . powers like yours." He hesitated, unsure of how to explain the inexplicable bond they shared with the Force without seeming to know too much for even a Force sensitive.

Qui-Gon Jinn, his eyes as piercing as the twin suns themselves, studied the boy before him, sensing the truth of his words. The Force was indeed strong with him, stronger than he had felt in anyone else, even master Yoda. The young apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi, watched with curiosity and a hint of skepticism, while Padme Amidala's gaze lingured at such a weird boy.

As the wind began to pick up, carrying with it the first grains of a sandstorm that would soon engulf the area, Anakin's gaze grew more urgent. He knew the dangers of being caught in such a tempest and the vulnerability it posed to those who were not of the desert. Without a moment's hesitation, he offered his humble abode to the Jedi and the Queen. "Please, come with me," he called out, gesturing towards the small, sturdy hut that had been his home for the past decade. "The storm is upon us. It is not safe here."

The Jedi and the Queen exchanged a look, the gravity of Anakin's words not lost on them. The cloaked figure, Qui-Gon Jinn, nodded solemnly, and together they ascended the ramp, their booted steps heavy with the weight of the impending storm. Inside the hut, the air was thick with the scent of cooking fires and the faint aroma of spices that spoke of a life intertwined with the desert's bounty.

The walls, adorned with intricate carvings and woven fabrics, whispered of a culture rich in tradition and resilience. Shmi, her eyes filled with a mix of pride and fear, watched as her son led their unexpected guests into the modest space, her hand instinctively reaching for the comfort of the blaster she had hidden beneath her garments.

Arna, ever the protector, positioned herself at the door, her own makeshift blade drawn and ready, her gaze never leaving the horizon as the sands began to dance in the building fury of the storm. The Jedi and the Queen, now huddled within the confines of the hut, shared a knowing glance.

Anakin, still clutching his makeshift staff, watched as Qui-Gon Jinn reached down to him, "You are indeed special, young one," he said, his voice carrying the weight of ages. "But the path ahead is fraught with danger. Are you prepared to face it?"

The question hung in the air, as heavy as the approaching storm, and Anakin felt the prophecy's embrace tighten around him. He looked to his sister, her eyes shining with a fierce determination, and then back to the Jedi. With a deep breath, he nodded, and the sands of Tatooine whispered their approval, for the storm had come, and with it, the destiny of a family bound by the stars and the fierce will of their newfound champion.

With the storm now upon them, Qui-Gon Jinn felt the urgency to understand the depth of Anakin's connection to the Force. He turned to the young boy, his gaze kind but firm. "Anakin, may I test you for midichlorians?" he asked, his voice a gentle rumble that seemed to resonate with the howling wind outside.

The Jedi Master knew that such a test could reveal the true extent of the child's potential and confirm the whispers of the prophecy that had drawn him to Tatooine. Anakin looked up at him, his eyes wide with curiosity and a hint of apprehension. Shmi, sensing the gravity of the request, gave her son an encouraging nod.

"What is it?" Shmi inquired, her grip on her old blaster loosening slightly. Qui-Gon pulled out a small device from within his robes, its sleek design a stark contrast to the handcrafted weapon in the boy's hand. "It's a Jedi tool," he explained, "It will tell us how strong your children are in the Force."

Anakin nodded, his heart racing with excitement and a touch of fear. He had heard of the Jedi and their mystical powers, and the thought of being one of them was both thrilling and terrifying. He held out his hand, allowing Qui-Gon to place the device on his skin. The room grew silent as the device whirred to life, its soft glow pulsing in time with Anakin's heartbeat.