All smuggling is done in Odessa, on Malaya Arnautskaya Street

200 stones extra chapter.

Subscribe at patreon.com/FanFictionPremium.

With advanced chapters, an extra chapter in your honour.

***

* Naboo, three days later *

A hired smuggler on his own ship went on a voyage. Good, the work is not dusty, the pay is good, and even in the long run it is possible to get some work. The old ship left the surface of the sandy planet at the same hour and soared into the sky, leaving behind inhospitable Tatooine.

It was just a matter of getting into hyperjump and waiting for hyperspace. The automatics and droids would successfully handle the piloting, leaving no work for the ship's captain. Of course, there would be a lot of work, but only on the way out of hyperspace - to repair, refuel, negotiate with the planetary station.

The journey ended, and the smuggler's not-young ship came out of hyperspace near the planet Naboo. In front of the ship was a beautiful forested planet, and obeying the droid's commands the ship, having switched on its repulsors began a relatively slow descent near the city of Tid.

The communications station on the ship came to life as the captain walked to the control room and sat down in his seat.

- Unknown ship, come in! Unknown ship! Come in!

The ship's captain picked up the comlink and switched it to communicate through the ship's antenna and spoke into it:

- This is ship HWK-290 "Hawk", code Ti-H-x, flying with a parcel to Tid. Do you copy?

- Copy that, Hawk. Can I help you with a landing site?

- Yeah, I need to get to the royal palace.

- Roger that, the data will be transmitted to your droid. And don't do anything stupid, okay? - came through the comlink.

- Of course. - The pilot put the comlink aside and stood up, watching the ship fly almost plumb towards Theed. The city was a blot of light against the surrounding swamps and forests, so it was hard to miss. After several long minutes of convergence, the ship levelled off. The Er-two series astrodroid that had joined the control stack beeped something and the ship changed course. The larger and larger was a large and beautiful structure by the standards of the locals. However, the captain found it quite aesthetically pleasing as well. But the ship headed for the hangar, located I a large rock on which, as it turned out, and stood the palace. The hangar doors were open, or maybe they weren't even open at all - Naboo was a peaceful planet, after all.

The ship flew into the hangar and, after flying a few dozen metres, released the struts and landed finally.

Immediately, men with blasters and armour came out. Leading them was a man with a rounded face. Unlike the others, he had a heavy carbine hanging from his shoulder, and it was not a creation of local craftsmen, but a normal weapon - a Thunderer, which looked even more formidable than its name.

The hatch opened and the welcoming committee pointed the blaster barrels at the smuggler, only their commander didn't change his posture, looking at the nervous smuggler.

- Who are you?

- I was hired to deliver a message to the Queen. - The captain stepped down from the bridge and looked the local military man in the eye. It was defiant.

- To the palace? - The greeter arched an eyebrow artistically.

- Yes, Naboo, Theed, the royal palace, Padme Amidala.

Hearing their queen's name, the greeters glanced round and gripped their blasters tighter.

- Amidala? What, just like that, to take a message to her majesty?

- Her, or a man named Panake. In person.

Hearing his chief's name, the commander of the greeters hesitated, but gestured for his companions to lower their weapons.

- Panake is allowed. - Ron! Escort the messenger to the chief. - He turned to the young guard. He nodded, hung his blaster on his shoulder, and followed him into the Queen's apartments.

Without a word, the smuggler followed his guide, leaving the palace guards behind.

However, there were more than enough guards - in the corridors, on the staircases, in the halls, through which the smuggler walked, turning his head round and looking at the palace. It was not every day that a man of the criminal profession got to visit the inside of a royal palace.

After a few minutes they stopped in front of a closed door and the guide, throwing a short - "wait here", disappeared behind the doors. Not half a minute later he came out again and said to the captain:

- Come in, you are expected.

And beyond the door was a room, apparently a royal room, like a small throne room. In the centre of it was a throne, on which sat a girl, or woman, dressed in fancy black, with a white face covered with make-up.

But the smuggler was not allowed to look at the queen for long - a negro came up to him and introduced himself:

- Panaka, captain of the royal guard. What's your business?

- I was hired on Tatooine to deliver a message and a parcel. - The captain of the ship handed a doubled folded paper and a sword to the captain of the guard, then stepped back, seeing Panaka looking at the sword, frowned, then unfolded the paper and went into reading. But after reading the first few lines, he folded the paper again and looked up at the smuggler:

- Did he pay you?

- Yes." The captain didn't lie. Though he was thinking to get something from Panaki, but common sense said that it was better not to play with the captain of the guard, and the presence of the ruler of the planet pressed by her mere presence.

- Then you may use the hangar as you wish. Ah, yes, there are guest apartments on the fifth floor, you can take a break from the flight. - The negro turned and walked away, to which the smuggler, ignorant of Nabuan or any other etiquette, only hummed and repeated the action of his interlocutor.

Panaka, paying no attention to the queen's double, went to another room, where Padme was.

Being a servant, she was doing all the servant's chores.

- Panaka? Is something wrong?

- Yes, Your Majesty. A letter for you. - the negro handed the paper and the sword to the Queen and stepped aside.

Padmé took the paper in her hands and read.

After the first reading she looked up, wiped her eyes and ran through the lines of the letter one more time. She prudently placed her sword on the table.

- Wow, what the hell is going on..." Padme's cheeks pinked a little as she finished reading the second time and looked at the sword in front of her.

- I don't know what it could mean either," Panaka assured her.

- Then... - Padme, by an effort of will, calmed down and returned her face to its normal colour, though Anakin's hint of feeling was pleasing. After the Queen of Naboo drew her sword and, pressing the power button, admired the purple light blade.

- Panaka, invite Shmi over here. And... bring a sedative beforehand. - Oh, what's going to happen..." she switched off the sword and hanging it on her belt, started reading the unexpected letter again.

* Planet Aethon, Anakin Skywalker. *

The flight was the most mediocre we could have been on. We took off from Tatooine, heading for a specified planet in the central worlds.

Julian, unlike me, was much more emotional, and was almost dancing around the first-class hyperdrive, a creation of the dusky Correlian genius. It would have taken him a week to get to Aethon with the crap he'd had before, but now the whole journey through hyperspace was going to take a day and a half, according to the new navigation computer. And that's only because we're on a route, not a roundabout way. Even so, Julian was delighted. I went to the empty cargo cabin, where I drew my training sword and took up a stance, gradually practising the usual chopping blows. I don't know about the Jedi,

The sword was already familiar, much more familiar than the blaster, which I'd rather not part with in the absence of a battle sword.

After the flight, Julian, already an experienced pilot, spoke to someone on the comlink and entered the coordinates into the computer. The ship, controlled by automation, entered the planet's atmosphere and headed for the right place. Because of the artificial gravity, I could realise that the ship was in the atmosphere only by the slight vibrations of the hull.

Aethon was covered with forests. The city, or rather the outskirts where we landed, was a rare exception. From the looks of it, it was a large warehouse. So large that it could be mistaken for a small city. The only thing that made it different from Earth's was the merchandise and the droid workers who were diligently moving large boxes from place to place. Down below, at least ten ships of all kinds were already being loaded. Julian took control of the droid and, taking the wheel himself, steered the ship into the newly vacated space.

After a soft landing, he stepped out of the cockpit and called out to me:

- Anakin! Anakin, where are you?

- I'm here, Ju, what are you yelling about? - I came out of my cubbyhole and looked at the pilot.

- Well, we're here now. Will you come with me?

- What the fuck for?

- See what's going on.

- Well..." I scratched behind my ear unconsciously, wondering if I should go with him. The decision was made, and I asked, "Blasters aren't forbidden here?"

- No, not at all. Not yet, anyway. Take whatever you want to take, we won't be long. And don't be long!

- OK. - I headed back to my quarters, which Julian had kindly cleared of junk. It used to serve as a balcony in a Russian flat, a storage space for stuff that was too bad to throw away and too bad to keep in the flat.

I strapped on my weapon belt and grabbed my training sword, which reflected the blasters' shots as well as the real thing. It's a shame that the crystal's property is such that instead of a thin thread of energy, it creates a wide rope that can't cause any significant injury - the energy of the training sword's beam is five hundred times lower than that of a battle sword, so while a battle sword can easily melt steel, a training sword can only heat it up slightly, like a lighter....

Julian was waiting for me at the gangway, and after waiting for me, he went on ahead. He looked around the ship, and when he saw a sign with some inscription in the nearest building, he went there, and I followed. I covered my eyes as I walked, switching on my second perception, and took a closer look at the sign. It read: "Spaceport Administration." Short and clear.

Walking along paths that resembled airport taxiways, we went inside.

An office, an ordinary office. A guard belonging to some humanoid race was bored behind the counter, several doors leading, apparently, to the clerks' offices, and, of course, a protocol droid. I turned to the latter, remembering that it was their job to help.

- Hello? Yes, yes. We've been hired for a cargo flight, who do you need to call for a job? - I immediately set the input parameters. The droid, flashing its yellow eyes, answered in a metallic synthesised voice:

- Cargo Flight Creation and Registration Department is in the forty-second office. It's just down the corridor. - The droid looked towards the corridor with the office doors going off into the distance.

The place looked an awful lot like a hospital, or rather an outpatient clinic. Julian heard the office number and walked forward, looking at the numbers on the doors. First, third, fifth...

After fifty metres, the forty-second appeared. Unlike the others, this office was located in a small hall, where other pilots were accommodated.

- Are you in forty-second? - Julian looked round at the two humanoids in the typical pilot's clothing. 

- Can't you see them? Follow me. - Julian was forced to wait his turn.

The ship was soon loaded - or rather, the droids carried boxes and containers to our barloz. I didn't go inside, so when it was Julian's turn I escaped into the relatively fresh air.

No sooner had I stood to listen to the force than I was torn away by Julian coming up from behind:

- Well, rejoice. We have work to do - now they'll load the goods, then some more smuggling....

- Smuggling? They're taking in smugglers right in the office?

- Well, what did you think? Turns out they were looking for pilots on tatooine for this job.

- Oh, I'm having second thoughts," I shook my head. Julian didn't seem too serious about this job. And according to the map he had, we'd have to fly somewhere.

* In twelve hours *

The smuggler's job didn't seem so difficult at first. Julian asked me to load the ship's cargo and stash the contraband, and he went off to prepare the ship for departure.

As soon as Julian stepped away and left me in charge of the loading droids, I had them stack everything on the floor and forcefully loaded boxes and bales of not-so-legal goods. It looked like the fur of some small animals, like mink, and they were taxed... gigantically, in order to preserve the population. Naturally, a real bread for a smuggler - any honest organisation would go bankrupt because sooner or later its competitors would resort to the work of smugglers and reduce the cost of the final product by thirty percent. In general, the fur business flourished and was a feeding ground for smugglers of all stripes - from novice pilots to venerable carriers on large tonnage ships. After the droid put all the goodies on the floor, I picked it up by force and stepped farther away. It's easy to say there's no difference in weight, but it's harder to honestly accept it. I picked up the bale of fur easily, even from the other side of the cargo hold, and carefully placed it in the hatch. Then I repeated the same action with the boxes. The key was to convince myself that the boxes with the fur were as well, or even lighter. As a workout, it was useful. I wasn't ready to cut myself off from reality and immerse my consciousness in the force, so I just imagined the image of a long and strong tentacle this time. A cartoon I had watched as a child helped a lot. Yes, yes, a cartoon, not some philosophising. There was a bad guy with glasses, a cape and long iron tentacles sticking out from behind his back. An octopus, I think. Here for the full control of telekinesis me not immediately, but helped me his image. Close my eyes, see the flow of force, imagine myself as that "octopus" and reach out with two tentacles at once to the loads....

What was my surprise when in the force I saw (yes, yes, I saw) as thin lines-tentacles stretching from me towards the boxes. I almost lost my concentration, but I regained it and, taking control of those tentacles, wrapped them tightly around the boxes and lifted them into the air. Both went up, which startled the forklift droids, or rather made them look at each other. I didn't notice, but Erdva, who had arrived, beeped something at them, and the loader droids stopped making pointless movements.

The boxes were ceremoniously placed in a secret compartment and I, obeying the same image of an octopus, grabbed the lid of the compartment and put it back in place, sealing the compartment at the same time. Yeah, yeah, what did you think, the contraband would be unprotected? There's climate control in there too, so I opened my eyes and said to my iron friend:

- Erdwa, this compartment is 20 degrees and medium humidity.

- Copy that. - The droid beeped and set the parameters. By the way, it was connected to the wireless network of the ship, so there was no reason for it to move.

Having finished loading the mech, I continued my training - this time the number of manipulators doubled and four boxes soared into the air at once. Strangely enough, this way I was able to precisely control the "tentacles" - from the speed of movement, to the force of compression of the boxes. Having wrapped invisible tentacles around the cargo, as a snake wraps around its victim, I had to go to a tighter contact with the force - it was difficult to keep four objects in the air at once. But, having found that familiar feeling of strength and immersed myself in it, concentrating on it, I easily lifted four boxes.

The training was a success - after all the cargo was stowed all I had to do was go to the cockpit and command Erdva to get ready for departure. The loader droids quickly left the ship and I returned to the cockpit. It was hard to call it a bridge, but it looked more like a Boeing cockpit, except that the instruments were holograms rather than monitors.

Julian was sitting in the first pilot's seat, and he paid attention to me only after a persistent cough.

- What do you want, Anakin?

- I've finished loading, we're good to go.

- Wait, not so fast, first we need to check the map we were given.

- They gave you a map too?

- Why wouldn't I? Smugglers work here often, and no one wants to lose cargo. - Ju explained and returned his attention to the holoprojectors.

- Makes sense. All right, load the map, check it out, you can ask Erdv.

- What does that astrodroid know? - Ju waved me off.

- Well, don't tell me, Captain, this droid used to serve on the Queen of Naboo's personal yacht, so it's made to the highest standards. - I'm sticking up for a friend, albeit an iron one.

- Personal... yacht..." Ju raised an eyebrow, but then, remembering something, gave up. - All right, I'll ask. And I hope you'll tell me where you got that droid.

- I don't have it, I have it with me," I corrected the captain. He's afraid and a little angry that he doesn't know what kind of technician he's got in his crew, - Don't worry, Ju, - I smiled at him, - nothing so dangerous. Well, I met a beautiful girl, it happened... - I took my eyes off Julian, who was listening to me silently, and climbed up to the co-pilot's seat. I checked the instrument readings and gave the command to close the hatches - the two of us would get through the pre-flight preparations faster, after all. Thankfully, thanks to the repulsor engines, we wouldn't have any difficulties with takeoff - just lift off, that's all...

In a few minutes the ship broke away from the surface of the spaceport and, raising its nose, flew upwards, into the sky blue, which quickly changed to the blackness of space. Julian never left his console, and I looked at all that was piled up here, asked for permission, and went to my quarters. Still, the idea of visualising the force was interesting - as one of the ways to use it.

Half an hour later the ship entered hyperspace and I, finally convinced that everything was all right, sat down in the pseudolotos pose on my bunk and started meditating with maximum immersion in the force. It was the only way to understand the force.

The force responded to the image I presented - how else could I understand that the tentacles I used to lift heavy weights easily formed without difficulty? Well, not exactly easy - knowing that the force doesn't care and truly believing that half a centner is not heavy are different things. But still.

Unlike my earlier meditation, now I could see the whole cabin, even with my eyes closed, feel it, and it was a challenge to shut myself off from the outside world. But I managed it, putting my mind into a kind of power trance. Thinking was especially helpful.

If the force responds to the image presented, then I can imagine anything and it will be fulfilled? Unlikely, but it's worth checking. But the idea of how I could test whether I could influence the force with my mind - or rather willpower - didn't come to mind. Oh, well.

What's there to do with willpower? What did they teach young mages in fantasy stories? No, I don't need to wave a wand, unless it's long and light, and with a slightly different purpose, but still, there's something in this idea... something interesting.

Like, where's the limit to what the force can do? According to the film it seemed that the power is not some midichlorians, but a property of the spirit, or, if to put it another way - willpower collected and applied like some "ki" from martial arts. However, the concept is similar - energy there, all that....

Without noticing that enough time had passed, I decided to experiment. For example, for starters, just pick up an object. No, not with the invisible manipulator I'd imagined before, but with willpower - now my knowledge of force was enough that I didn't have to try just to wish the object to rise. I understood that both the object and the space between me and it were filled with force, and that to influence the force inside the object, it would be enough to perform the same manipulation as when creating the "hand", but at a distance and without visualising the force itself as some kind of manipulator. The object, me, the force, the willpower... and nothing more.

Willpower I said!

...

Not the first time, but I managed to lift into the air the datapad that was lying on the nightstand beside the bed. And, characteristically, there were no manipulators in the form of a hand - I simply felt the force inside the datapad and influenced it directly, not the outer casing. So it was manipulation from within - manipulation of the force inside the object. Thankfully, this was something I had already dealt with when creating the sword. Speaking of the sword...

Shit! I lost concentration and the datapad fell on the bedside table. I'm distracted, for fuck's sake!

About the sword, I could use a new one. Only the crystal... they say that any crystal will do - the properties of the svetoshashka's detail it takes after long and thoughtful processing by force, well, or if the crystal is special and natural, predisposed to force, it is possible to reduce the time and forces applied for its creation. BUT! As a partially Russian person I prefer to collect an expensive thing myself rather than pay some uncles. Besides, Qui-Gon said that the crystals are sold by a company controlled by the Jedi. And that means that there is a chance to get caught when buying them - if I go to their shop and start forcing my choice, they will spot me and tell me who I need. And what do I want?

I'll have to look for the crystal or make it myself - it might be a good workout. Besides, I never had time to try the sword, and the power in that crystal wasn't mine - it was Obi-Wan Kenobi's. And with someone else's crystal... something tells me that it's better to have a sword of your own, not borrowed from someone else. It's the right thing to do.

Having made up my mind, I put that thought aside for later and began to reexercise my willpower. Or whatever the Kung Fu Jedi call it?

The long-suffering datapad went up into the air again, but this time more sensibly on my part - it was enough to make a clear wish, directed not inside myself, and not even at the datapad, but at the force that permeated the electronic device, and voila! The electronics obediently rose into the air, soaring above the bollard.

Fearing it might crash again, I pulled it over to me, holding it above the bed. By the way, here's another thing - I didn't have to make any effort to hold it. That is, I imagined and wanted the force to hold the datapad above the couch, and it held it, and I could not concentrate on it, and I even did the experiment by opening my eyes and looking away.

The datapad did fall. It fucking fell, but I got some results and information to think about - the datapad was floating in the air, without my support. All I had to do was concentrate on that part of the great power that was in the local analogue of the tablet and express my wish. It reminded me of something - pointing the cursor, clicking the menu item "lift and hold"... That's direct volitional control of the force! Yes, it is. And those tentacle arms are just an illusion created by the force of my will. Or rather, an illusion of the mind visualised by the force. The crutches of telekinesis - for the weak, useful, for the master, a hindrance. But I am not a master, and rather belong to the first category - it is easier for me to act with a manipulator in the form of an invisible hand or tentacles. More precisely - it is easier for my mind to accept that the object is held by an invisible, or rather visible only in the force of the manipulator, and not by itself it flies....

There was one benefit of meditation - I outlined a plan for training with the force - to develop the ability to influence the force with my will, bypassing the stage of visual and verbal control, like reaching out a real or invisible hand in the direction of manipulation. Without noticing how much time had passed, I stretched out on the bed without undressing, having tentatively tucked the datapad back on the bedside table with my new method.