The stars blurred into streaks as the Earthborn ship exited hyperspace, gliding smoothly into the dusty atmosphere of a world Anakin Skywalker once called home.
Tatooine.
He sat beside Master Martus Kael Vorran in the cockpit, his small hands gripping the edge of his seat as the planet came into view.
"It looks exactly the same," Anakin said, his voice quiet.
"It is," Martus replied. "But you're not. And that's what matters."
It had only been a few months since Anakin arrived at the Jedi Temple. A few months since the Council reluctantly allowed Martus, the Grey Jedi from Earth, to train the boy. And though the training had only just begun, Anakin had already changed—his eyes clearer, his stance stronger, his heart steadier.
But some ties couldn't be undone. And one bond had called out across the stars.
His mother.
Their sleek, dark-metal ship landed just outside Mos Espa, engines humming quietly with Earth-forged precision. As they descended the ramp, heat wrapped around them like a memory Anakin had tried not to carry.
Watto's shop was where they'd left it. Bent metal. Spare droid parts. And Watto himself—still grumbling, still greasy, still working on something barely functioning.
He looked up.
"What do you—" he started, then froze. "Wait a minute… Anakin?"
Anakin stepped forward, his Jedi robes dusting against the sand. "We need to know what happened to my mom."
Watto's wings fluttered as he backed up. "Hey, hey, relax! I don't got her anymore, alright?"
Martus stepped beside Anakin, silent but commanding.
Watto raised both hands. "Look, after the Boonta Eve race… business was bad. Real bad. Had to let some things go. I sold her to this moisture farmer—Cliegg Lars."
"Sold her?" Anakin asked, voice sharpening.
"Not like that!" Watto said quickly. "He freed her. Treated her decent. Far as I know… they're together. Lives out by the Anchorhead homestead. He said he was planning to marry her."
Anakin's jaw slackened. "She's… happy?"
Watto shrugged. "She looked it. Better off than with me, that's for sure."
Martus gave Watto one final look. "Thank you."
And then they were gone.
Later – The Lars Homestead
The speeder ride was quiet. Anakin stared at the horizon as the white domes of the Lars homestead crested over the dunes.
When they landed, a woman stepped out from the entry tunnel. She shaded her eyes from the suns and squinted toward the arriving figures.
Her heart stopped.
"Anakin?"
He was off the speeder before it fully stopped, racing toward her.
"Mom!"
She ran to him, her arms wrapping around her son as he collided with her chest. The desert faded. The years vanished. It was just mother and son—whole, even if just for a moment.
Behind her came Cliegg Lars, sturdy and gentle. He paused a respectful distance away as the reunion unfolded. Owen and Beru followed, curious but kind.
Martus stepped forward, bowing his head. "Master Martus Kael Vorran. Anakin's teacher."
Cliegg extended a hand. "We owe you everything."
"No," Martus said. "You owe me nothing. But I come with a question."
He looked at Shmi, Cliegg, and the others.
"My homeworld is called Earth. You've never heard of it—because it doesn't exist on any star map. Not in Republic records. Not in Jedi archives."
Cliegg frowned. "Then how—?"
"By design," Martus said. "Earth is hidden. Protected. And far more advanced than any civilization in the known galaxy."
He paced slowly, the desert wind carrying his words.
"Earth has no Hutts. No slavery. We've cured diseases the Republic still calls untreatable. We harness energy without destroying our environment. We build without conquest. We don't fear the dark—we understand it. And we fight only when we must."
Owen squinted. "Why isn't the galaxy talking about Earth then?"
Martus turned to him. "Because Earth chose silence. We don't rule the galaxy—we prepare for when the galaxy needs something better."
He stopped in front of Cliegg and Shmi.
"I came here to offer you a choice. Leave this desert. Come to Earth. Live in peace, among people who care more about growth than power."
Shmi looked to Anakin, emotions churning in her chest.
"But… what about my son?"
Anakin stepped forward.
"I have to stay. My training with Master Vorran… it's only beginning. But I'll visit you. Master said Earth is my second home."
Martus nodded. "When his path allows, he'll come. And when he's ready, he won't return as a student—but as a guardian."
Cliegg looked to Shmi.
She looked back to him—and smiled.
"If it means my family is safe… then yes. Let's go."
Martus's cloak stirred behind him as he turned back toward the speeder.
"We leave at sunrise. Pack light. You won't need much where you're going."
The jump to Earth was fast. Too fast, from Cliegg's perspective.
One moment they were leaving Tatooine's burning sands behind—just another dust-covered memory—and the next, the stars seemed to bend around them, folding space like a page in a book.
When the ship exited hyperspace, Shmi gasped.
Owen fell silent.
Beru clutched the edge of her seat.
Because what they saw… defied logic.
Through the viewport, a world of silver-blue shimmered below—oceans clear as glass, continents brimming with lush green, and scattered across its surface… cities.
Not just cities. Wonders.
Towers stretched into the sky like brushstrokes on a canvas, curving and gleaming with organic grace. Roads spiraled upward into anti-gravity highways, where sleek hovercraft glided without a sound. And at the center of it all, a massive glowing reactor pulsed like a living heart.
Etched on its core: ARC REACTOR.
They touched down in a garden-ringed landing plaza surrounded by mirror-like skyscrapers and pristine white buildings marked HEALTHCORE and CURELABS. No guards. No weapons. Just serenity.
Shmi stepped out first, her breath catching in her throat.
"Is this… real?"
Martus smiled, arms behind his back, his violet cloak stirring softly in the wind. "Welcome to Earth."
Beru turned in a slow circle. "This makes Coruscant look ancient…"
Martus nodded. "That's because Earth isn't just advanced… it's evolved."
They walked past a glowing blue terminal projecting real-time health scans and holographic translators. Cliegg touched his leg—and the pain was gone.
"No limp?" he asked, confused.
"Nanotherapy activated the moment we landed," Martus explained. "Our atmosphere is laced with cellular restoration fields. You'll feel twenty years younger within the hour."
Owen stared at a digital skyline display, zooming in and out at his touch. "You have instant global communication?"
"With subquantum encryption," Martus replied. "Every citizen is connected—but no one is watched."
He led them past a marble archway toward the glowing heart of the city: the Arc Reactor, humming softly in a massive glass chamber surrounded by green parks and curved walkways.
"This reactor powers not just the city—but the entire planet. Clean. Infinite. No pollution. No scarcity."
Beru pointed to a sign on a nearby building: "DISEASE CURED."
Shmi blinked. "That's not… propaganda?"
Martus shook his head. "We eliminated cancer three hundred years ago. Viral medicine adjusts to infections in seconds. We don't fear death here… because we don't chase it."
They stopped on a wide overlook. The city stretched beneath them—alive, beautiful, calm.
Martus turned to them at last.
"This is what I fight for," he said quietly. "Not power. Not politics. Peace. Real peace."
He looked to Shmi.
"You'll never have to run again. Not here. And Anakin… will always have a home to return to."
Shmi took his hand.
"Thank you."
Martus gave the smallest nod, but the pride in his eyes said more than words ever could.