#krayn

"[Anakin's] friend Amee was a house slave for a rich Toong couple. They gave her one afternoon off a month. This was it. Amee waited outside on the steps of her dwelling in the crowded, layered stack of hovels in Mos Espa.

Her chestnut hair was worn in a braided crown around her head. She had woven some yellow flowers through her braids. It added to the holiday feeling of this day. Her thin face, usually so serious, looked almost pretty as she smiled.

"I've never been on a picnic," she said. "Mother says she used to go on them when she was a girl."

Amee's mother, Hala, opened the door and smiled at Anakin. Her job was to work on transmitter parts at home. "I'm glad you'll both get to enjoy the day. Don't go far."

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"I hate being a slave," Amee said. She shoved the food wrappings into her pack with unusual force.

There wasn't any reply Anakin could make. They all hated being slaves.

Anakin vowed that someday Shmi would live a soft, pleasant life, filled with leisure and good things to eat, just like this day. He would see to it.

He and Amee slogged through the sandy hills and down into the streets of Mos Espa. To their surprise, the streets were now almost empty, the food stalls shuttered.

"What's going on?" Anakin wondered. "It's like there's a sandstorm coming, but the air is so clear."

As they got closer to their homes, their unease increased. On the outskirts, they saw shattered entrances and wreckage in the street.

They passed a man crying into his hands. Sobs shook his thin shoulders. Anakin and Amee exchanged a wordless glance. The fear that always hummed under the surface of their lives sparked and became a living current. Something was very wrong.

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"It's Amee." Shmi's grip on him tightened. "Hala was taken by the slave raiders."

He looked into her face. The terror was gone, but sadness was there now, deep sadness and compassion, and also something else, something remote that he could not decipher. As though she knew something he did not, and would not tell him — he did not want or need to know.

"It is a terrible thing to be a slave on Tatooine, Annie," Shmi whispered. "But it could be far, far worse for us." She pushed his hair off his forehead. The remote look left her eyes. "But you are safe," she said in a firm voice. "We are together. Now, come. Let us do what we can to comfort Amee and her father."

Anakin rose. He stood on the threshold of his dwelling for a moment, watching Shmi cross to console Amee and her father.

Owners were now walking among the milling beings, checking on the slaves. Anakin saw Hala's owner, Yor Millto. Millto was checking off something on a datapad.

"A nuisance, to lose Hala," he said to his assistant. "This will cost me. But she wasn't highly skilled. Easy to replace."

Anakin's gaze went to Amee. Her face was buried in Shmi's robes, and her thin shoulders shook with her wracking sobs. Hala's husband sat nearby, his face in his hands. Easy to replace… Pain tore through Anakin, pain he did not want to face.

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Now that his gaze was mid-level, Anakin realized that the objects dangling from Krayn's belt were talismans.

They were objects Anakin didn't want to think about, for some of them resembled dried flesh and he could pick out bits of hair. There were jewels and crystals as well, and a small silver bell… The silver bell. Anakin's gaze was riveted on it. He knew it. He recognized it. It was the bell that Amee's mother had worn around her neck.

Suddenly Krayn's meaty hand reached down and jangled some of the hanging items. The bell tinkled softly, and a strange pain seared Anakin's heart.

"Admiring my kill trophies?" Krayn asked him in a low, cunning tone. "Or do you think you might snatch a jewel or two? Think again, slave. One of your fingers or your scalp will end up hanging alongside them!"

He laughed, and Siri and Rashtah joined him. As Krayn shook with amusement, Anakin heard the tinkling of the bell. So Hala was dead. The sweet sound of the bell mingled with Krayn's harsh laughter until Anakin's vision blurred with rage. He could kill him, right here, right now. He would not need his light-saber. He could do it with his bare hands….

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"Ten years now," Mazie said. "I used to dream of escape. No more. My husband was killed in the raid along with countless others. He resisted."

"Did you happen to know a human woman named Hala?" Anakin asked eagerly. Perhaps Hala was still alive!

"Yes, we arrived here together. They brought us to processing. Hala saw Krayn and suddenly broke out of the line. She tried to kill him." Mazie cast her clear gaze down. "He struck her down and then… he made an example of her."

Anakin shuddered. He did not want to know the details.

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"It is time to pay for your crimes," [Anakin] said.

"Not by the likes of you, boy," Krayn sneered.

Anakin attacked. He felt no fear. There was something in his blood, something strange, as though ice now moved through his veins. It was not anger, he told himself. It did not feel like anger. It felt like justice. Purpose. All the lives below in the factories, all the lives he had known on Tatooine, his mother, Hala, Amee, all who had suffered, they were in his hands. Everyone he'd lost, everyone he'd loved. Even Qui-Gon was here, urging him on, he felt sure.

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He felt righteousness pump through him. From now on, he would make no mistakes. Memories pounded in him, of his mother, of Amee's tears for months after Hale was captured.

He matched Krayn's viciousness with his own, driving him back toward the wall so he would have him at bay. He saw the first flicker of fear in Krayn's eyes and he enjoyed it.

"You will die at my hands, Krayn," he said through his teeth. "You will die at the hands of a boy."

Krayn was too exhausted to answer. His hair was wet and matted, and his powerful arm shook as he tried to raise the vibro-ax against Anakin. Anakin had him now. He would show no mercy. Krayn deserved none. There was no capturing him. There was only killing him.

This is my first Work in Progress Wednesday of 2026 and hopefully, not my last. It has been a while. I've been thinking of my Star Wars fanfic and OC Kalara lately. I wanted to write down a scene that I dreamed up a few days ago. Unfortunately, that scene did not came to pass in words. However, I ended up starting an opening chapter that will lead to the scene I keep dreaming of.

A great blue beast snarls in anger, red eyes flashing.  His plans were ruined.  He shouts out orders to an overgrown rat-like creature. A voice interrupts him.  A familiar voice. “It is time you paid for your crimes.” Anakin.  He stands behind the beast, soaked by the falling rain.  His expression is one of steely determination.  His blue eyes burn with anger. The beast sneers at him. Anakin activates his lightsaber. “You will die at my hands, Krayn.” A battle ensues.  It ends with the beast impaled on the blade of blue plasma. *** “Anakin!” Kalara jolts back into consciousness.  Unfortunately, that means she is now falling out of the tree she had been sitting and meditating in. Closing her eyes, Kalara pushes aside her concern for her friend, in order to touch the Force.  She gathers it around her, slowing her descent to the ground.  Instead of landing gracefully on her feet, Kalara stumbles into an awkward crouch. “Hrrmmm. Bad form.” Kalara cringes.  Of course, Master Yoda would show up now.  She straightens and faces the diminutive Jedi Master.

Kalara's vision comes from Jedi Quest: Path to Truth, or rather the comic adaptation, as I didn't want to get the actual book out yet. I do not have a grasp on Yoda's voice yet, so I didn't post the next few sentences.

Remember that time young Anakin got sold back into slavery by this toothy, nipple-less blue guy? 😬 Can I get an oof?

Krayn: