Location: Tatooine, Mos Espa — Boonta Eve Morning
The morning sun rose like molten gold over the endless dunes. Heat shimmered off the duracrete and sand, and the city hummed with a thousand voices. The Boonta Eve Classic wasn't just a race. It was a spectacle — a roar of engines and a gamble of lives.
Kira stood on a rooftop near the outskirts of the Mos Espa arena, looking down at the gathering chaos.
He could see Anakin's pod already being towed toward the staging area.
He could hear the buzz of last-minute bets and the metallic clatter of weapon merchants peddling "protection."
And beneath it all — he felt it.
That whisper of dread.
That crackle in the system.
Hikaru climbed up next to him, breathing shallowly.
"He's here again."
Kira didn't need to ask who.
"Maul?"
"Like a shadow behind the curtain."
He looked out across the horizon. "And he's not hiding this time."
Bets and Blades
Back at Watto's shop, Qui-Gon made final arrangements. The Jedi Master had laid the gamble with the confidence of someone who knew he would win. But he didn't know everything. Not about Kira. Not about Hikaru. And definitely not about the Sith assassin closing in on their timeline like a ticking chrono-bomb.
"You're certain about this?" Kira asked quietly, as the group gathered to leave for the arena.
"No," Qui-Gon replied. "But we have little choice."
Amidala — her true identity still veiled — looked at Kira for a moment. "You're not just a mechanic, are you?"
Kira smiled weakly. "And you're not just a handmaiden."
They didn't need to say more.
Everyone was wearing masks.
Some were just thicker than others.
Boonta Eve Begins
The arena was thunder.
Engines screamed. Crowds shouted. Droids malfunctioned.
And in the middle of it all, Anakin stood calmly beside his ramshackle pod — a boy in the eye of a hurricane.
Kira, standing near the maintenance gates with Vol and Hikaru, watched the boy closely. He could see the calculations running behind Anakin's eyes. The intuition. The edge.
"Is this what the Force looks like?" Kira muttered.
"No," Hikaru whispered. "This is what the chosen looks like."
The flag dropped.
And the pods launched.
The scream of engines echoed through the arena like a war cry.
Not Just a Race
Kira had tapped into the event's backchannel telemetry, rigging a salvaged monitor to display live data. He wasn't just watching the race — he was watching Anakin's pod think.
"Second engine's stalling—no, wait—he's forcing the throttle to even out the drag manually. That's impossible."
"Not for him," Hikaru said. "Not with that kind of connection."
"He shouldn't even be alive."
"And yet," Hikaru said softly, "he is."
Around them, the crowd roared.
Anakin's pod danced between debris, outpacing Sebulba's beast of a machine with every reckless turn.
But then—
A shiver ran down Kira's spine.
Not from the race.
From something else.
He turned slowly.
Standing far away, just barely within view of the maintenance gate, was a cloaked figure.
Darth Maul.
Watching.
Waiting.
Hikaru didn't move, but he felt it too. "He's not intervening. He's studying."
Vol's sensors hummed. "Energy pattern consistent with high-level Sith signature. Distance: 238 meters. Threat: Extreme."
Kira's hands clenched.
"He's not here for Anakin."
"No," Hikaru said. "He's here to confirm what he senses. Us."
The Victory and the Storm
The race ended in an explosion of sound.
Anakin crossed the finish line.
The crowd erupted.
Watto screamed curses.
Qui-Gon smiled.
The Jedi's gamble had worked.
Anakin was free.
The hyperdrive was theirs.
But Kira couldn't celebrate.
He watched as Maul turned and disappeared into the crowd, cloak folding behind him like wings.
"He knows now," Kira whispered. "He's confirmed us."
"We don't have much time," Hikaru replied.
Then, quietly: "I felt something during the race. Something else."
Kira turned.
"What?"
"I don't know. Just—someone else. Like a distant echo. Like... a warning."
Kira looked back at the celebration.
Anakin was laughing with Padmé, covered in grease and joy.
Vol loomed behind them, silent.
And behind the veil of time, the story waited — already written.
But not yet unchangeable.
Departure and a Stolen Moment
That night, as the crew prepared to leave Tatooine, Kira and Hikaru stood beneath the stars, packing the last of the salvaged parts into crates.
"I know what Maul saw in us," Kira said finally.
Hikaru looked up.
"We're not just anomalies," Kira said. "We're cracks. Cracks in the story."
"You think he'll report it?"
"Of course. But the bigger question isn't what he will do…"
He looked at Hikaru.
"It's what we will do when the story tries to snap back."
The Ship Lifts Off
The Queen's starship rose from the dunes, leaving Tatooine behind in a flare of ion light.
Inside, Anakin looked out a viewport, eyes wide, heart full.
Qui-Gon stood quietly, sensing the future ripple like waves ahead.
Amidala leaned in her throne, her thoughts far away.
And in a quiet corner, Kira and Hikaru sat beside Vol — eyes closed, not in rest, but in thought.
They knew what came next.
Coruscant. Maul. Sidious.
And war.
But they also knew something else.
They were no longer outside the story.
They were inside it.
And it was beginning to notice.