Shmi finished her chores, grateful for the extra income they provided, but weary from the long day. She and her young son, Anakin—a blonde boy with bright, curious eyes—looked out the window of the hover-bus. As she gazed into the night, a heavy sense of despair settled over her while she held Anakin in her lap, her thoughts consumed by the uncertain future that lay ahead for them both.

  When the bus came to a stop, Shmi stepped off, little Anakin following closely behind. She sighed, yearning for the comfort of her bed after a day filled with cleaning and repairing computer memory devices. Yet, she had promised Anakin she would help him with his pod racer. As she made her way down the familiar path to her quarters, Watto's grating voice called out from behind her.

  Watto, a pot-bellied Toydarian, hovered effortlessly on his tiny wings. The shrewd merchant had recently acquired Shmi and Anakin Skywalker in a gamble with Gardulla the Hutt, bringing them to his shop where they now lived as his slaves. Watto found himself impressed with the boy Anakin, a precocious child who demonstrated an innate skill for fixing things. This young slave's talent had quickly become an asset to Watto's business, though the Toydarian would never admit it openly.

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  “Hey, Shmi! Don’t think you’re off the hook yet! I’ve got chores waiting for you!” he barked, his wings flapping irritably. Shmi glanced down at Anakin, her heart heavy.

  “Oh, little Annie, I’m so sorry. I wanted to help you with your pod racer, but I have more chores to finish. You can work on it for an hour, but then it’s time for bed.” With a gentle squeeze of her son's shoulder, Shmi turned and headed toward Watto's workshop, leaving Anakin to continue tinkering with his prized creation.