Anakin took his cup and went out onto the porch, sitting down on a stump. A few minutes later, Petro approached him, crouching down next to the stump and smiling happily:
"Good morning, Anakin.
The boy was terribly proud that this man, whom he considered an ideal and the living embodiment of all the masculine qualities Petro dreamed of seeing in himself, allowed him to speak to him casually. No titles or subordination, just first names. This made the boy feel more grown-up and important in his own eyes.
"Hi, Petro," Anakin replied, placing an empty mug on his knees.
"Do you think the sun will come out today?" the boy struck up the usual conversation.
"I hope so," said Skywalker without smiling. "I'm terribly tired of this gloomy weather. It prevents me from going out on reconnaissance and threatens to rain at any moment.
Petro hesitated a little:
"I'm very sorry for your grief, Anakin.
The man nodded quietly and, to distract himself from the heavy topic, offered Petro some coffee. Without waiting for a reply, he brought another mug from the house, filled it, and handed it to the teenager. And for some time, both men, young and young, drank the strong drink in silence, while the camp gradually began to wake up. The air gradually filled with the usual sounds of any morning: the hissing of stoves being lit, the cries of children and the quiet conversations of the elders with each other. It was like this every morning, as if by some ritual, whose unchanging regularity conveyed something reliable and strong. But Anakin knew for sure that everything in his life would now be different.
"Have you been to see the animals today?" he asked the boy, glancing involuntarily towards the pens where the bantos and various riding horses were kept.
"Of course," Petro replied eagerly. "I fed them grain and hay and changed their water, just like you said."
"Thank you, Petro," Anakin replied, smiling for the first time that day. "I'm lucky to have you in the camp, because no one else has ever helped me so much. Or rather, us... me and Padmé," Skywalker added, unable to resist, and sighed bitterly.
He couldn't help wondering what would have happened to him if he had had an older friend like Anakin had been to Petro and the other children of the temple — those whom he had managed to save from Sidious. Someone he could have looked up to and learned the wisdom of life from. What kind of young Skywalker would he have grown up to be? The same or different? Although, to be honest, Anakin did have such a friend and mentor, but he appeared after he joined the Order. Obi-Wan Kenobi was his teacher, his best friend, his support and his rock. But he was more than that. He was taken away by the war and swallowed up forever by the terrible Darth Sidious.
"He's gone, Obi-Wan is dead, he died with his comrades," Anakin said to himself every time he remembered the years they served together. Difficult but happy years, as he now thought. But that was on Coruscant, within the Order, and before that, on Tatooine, where Skywalker spent his childhood, he had to achieve everything himself, climbing to the top, breaking his nails and tearing his knees to shreds. And so, when the Jedi first noticed him and took him away, and then Padmé agreed to become his wife, Anakin decided that this was the beginning of his new life. But apparently, people like him are not destined to enjoy happiness for long.
"I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you," Petro said gratefully, running his fingers through his dark, unruly hair.
"And when the Empire is finished, I want to set up a centre to help those who have suffered under its tyranny, especially the children who have been left orphaned," Anakin said unexpectedly, touched by the boy's confession.
"You know, even if you hadn't asked me, I would have helped you anyway," Petro replied in the same tone. "After all, I owe you my life. Besides, Master Shaak Ti wants me to become a diplomat or consul, but I don't want that. I'd much rather be a Jedi protector like you, Anakin. I also dream of helping the weak and oppressed, and of freeing slaves. Tell me, how did you come up with that?
The conversation with the teenager gradually distracted Anakin from his emotional pain.
"Well, it started a long time ago, when I was little, even younger than you," Anakin began his story. "Back then, I was a slave myself...
"A slave on Tatooine?" Petro almost jumped up.
Anakin cast a heavy gaze at the edge of the coniferous forest surrounding the camp, and when he returned it to his companion, the former bitterness was gone.
"Yes, I worked in a spare parts shop," he continued his saga. "For a mean and greedy Taidorian, and then two Jedi, a master and a Padawan, accidentally flew to our planet, and Padmé was with them.
"And then you confessed your love to her and you got married," Petro said with a sly smile."So you already know this story?" Skywalker smiled good-naturedly.
"So you already know this story?" Skywalker smiled good-naturedly.
"Of course, you've told it many times, and I love listening to it," Petro didn't argue with him and went on to learn what he hadn't heard before.
"And when Order 66 was issued across the galaxy, I had a choice: stay at Padmé's family estate or take her with me, join the camp of survivors that was forming, and go to Endor with my comrades. I wanted to choose the first option, but Padmé convinced me that it would be much safer and more reliable to stay together. And we did as she wanted, deciding to organise this aid centre together later. Bail Organa readily supported this endeavour, as he had been thinking about something similar himself, but he couldn't take it on alone, as he had too many other concerns weighing on his shoulders. So Padmé and I asked him to hand the task over to us, and he gladly agreed.
Anakin went home again and made two sandwiches with pieces of roast meat, keeping one for himself and handing the other to Petro.
"And so it begins," Skywalker continued, chewing a bite of his sandwich.
"That's for sure," Petrov muttered with his mouth full.
"Thanks for your help. You know, if you step away for a moment, those Imperial bastards will show up and ruin everything," Anakin said with a grim smile, wiping his hands and lips on a torn leaf.
The teenager was pleased to hear the praise from the adult Jedi, and they both looked at each other knowingly. Suddenly, from somewhere deep inside the house, the sound of children crying could be heard, judging by the intensity, belonging to two children at once. But after no more than a few minutes, it was replaced by quiet, affectionate murmurs. Then silence reigned for a while. Petro looked questioningly at Anakin, whose face tensed and his gaze darkened as he glanced at the entrance to the house.
"Your former Padawan... Ahsoka," Petro said hesitantly. "Master Ty said she would stay with you and help take care of the children.
"It seems so," Anakin replied discontentedly, and so as not to vent his helpless rage on him again, the man entered the kitchen, brought back a razor, soap and a bowl of hot water, hung a towel over his shoulders and began to lather his face generously, then ran the razor over his cheeks and chin. Petro watched with admiration and envy.
"She was almost dead when Zatt and I found her," said Petro, wanting to continue the conversation.
"Really?" Anakin squinted, starting to shave the other side of his face.
"Yes, she was lying on the grass in the rain, barely breathing," replied Petro, causing Anakin to clench his teeth and almost hiss through them:
"But now she's perfectly fine and ready to pick up where she left off, to do what she was doing before she left the Order.
More than anything in the world, Anakin wanted to forget how the loose shirt outlined her fragile silhouette, especially her breasts, which had grown larger from the influx of milk. He almost cursed himself for it, but he couldn't, continuing to remember every cell of her body and soul.
That's what heredity means. There's no escaping it, no hiding from it. It doesn't matter that your mother was an honest and honourable woman, despite her poverty. It doesn't matter that she married a refined woman from a noble family. And it doesn't matter that he was raised for thirteen years in the elite structure of the Republic, the Jedi Order. It still doesn't change the fact that his father was a vile and dirty slave trader, who was also a lecher, raping his slave and bringing Anakin into this world.
And now this rotten legacy has finally manifested itself, sprouting through the carefully applied layers of education and dignity.
His wife's body was not yet cold in her grave, and her widower was already thinking about the charms of his former student. There she was, her true self. One look at a girl with a questionable past, and there you have it! She immediately revealed herself to the world, causing him to lose control and throw away all of Skywalker's efforts to be better than he was and to forget forever that small mistake that almost caused him to stray from his path of fidelity to his wife.
It appeared and now sat in his house as a living reminder, feeding his children. But, Sith, Anakin would allow this mistake to happen again. It didn't matter who caused it. Ahsoka or another woman.
No one, ever.
***
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