Sliven nodded.
“Why should I attempt to fulfill the promise?” Tahiri asked Sliven as she turned to face him. Her green eyes glowered from beneath ash blonde brows.
Sliven replied slowly. There was sadness in his voice.
“Years ago I did what I did to save your life. You may not believe that right now, but there was no other way for me to persuade the tribe to accept you.”
“Even given that,” Tahiri said quietly to Sliven, “why should I risk my life now so that you can live?”
“Because even if you do die,” Sliven replied, “you will do so with the knowledge you’ve sought all your life: the history of your family, of who you really are.”
Sliven moved forward, placed both hands on Tahiri’s shoulders, and looked into her eyes with his own darkly goggled ones.
“That, too, was part of the deal, little one. You could only be told your history if you accepted the promise.”
“Why?” Anakin interrupted. “That’s cruel!”
“I agree, Anakin, the bargain was cruel,” Sliven said. “But telling Tahiri her history was to be a reward of sorts from the tribe if she ever chose to fulfill the promise. And not telling Tahiri until that point was a punishment to me from the tribe. They knew she would ask, and that I would want to tell her the truth. They knew it would be difficult for me to keep Tahiri’s history from her-that it would take the strength they had begun to believe I lacked.”
“Tell me my history,” Tahiri said with glowing eyes. “I accept the promise.”
“No!” Anakin cried out. But he couldn’t stop the words from leaving Tahiri’s mouth, any more than he could take them back once they had settled heavily on the sand.
Anakin glowered at Tahiri. How could she agree to the deal Sliven had struck? How could she put her life in danger, and the lives of thousands inside the globe? Then he remembered what he’d told her on the shuttle only hours before. He’d said that no matter what happened on Tatooine, he would support her. Tahiri might beat the odds Vexa had spoken of and survive. If that happened, she’d finally know her history. And, perhaps that would give her the peace of mind she needed to forever leave the Raiders and return to the academy. Anakin stared off across the endless sea of sand.
“I’m going with you,” he finally said to Tahiri.
“She might be right,” Tahiri replied with a nod at Vexa. “I do know about survival in the desert - although I’ve never had to live without the tribe. You don’t know anything. It’s goring to be hard enough for me without you tagging along.”
“Stop, Tahiri,” Anakin interrupted. “It doesn’t matter what I know about the desert. I’m good with the Force and a great problem solver. We’re a team, and that’s the end of the discussion.”
Tahiri nodded, then turned to Sliven.
“Wait,” Tionne said in disbelief. “If you think I’m going to allow either of you to accept this deal, you’re very wrong. Neither of you. are going into the desert, and that’s final,” she said sternly.
“Tahiri’s made her decision,” Sliven interrupted. “Tionne, the tribe will not allow you to interfere. You will remain with us for one week. If the children don’t return, we will take you back to the spot you’ve agreed to meet your shuttle pilot.”
Tionne’s silver eyes clouded with worry. There were too many Raiders to fight.
“Tahiri, please rethink your decision,” she said with forced calm. “Tell me my history,” Tahiri said to Sliven. Her voice was a command.
Sliven nodded, then led Anakin and Tahiri away from the tribe. Tionne watched the three walk away. There was absolutely nothing she could do to stop them. Vexa called out from behind them.
“She says we leave at dawn,” Tahiri murmured.
Anakin turned toward the female Raider. Although he couldn’t see her face, he was sure that she was smirking. And he could sense that she was pleased by Tahiri’s choice. There was an old hatred inside of her that Anakin could almost taste. When they had moved from the tribe, Sliven gestured for Tahiri and Anakin to sit. They settled across from the Raider in the cooling sands of the desert.
Sliven pushed several tattered blankets toward the Jedi candidates. Now that the sun had set, a chilly breeze blew across the desert. Soon the frigid night that Tatooine was known for would wrap them in its cold hands. Anakin and Tahiri covered themselves with the blankets. Then, in a voice full of years, sand, and sorrow, the Raider began Tahiri’s story.
“Your father’s name was Tryst Veila, your mother’s was Cassa. They were moisture farmers on Tatooine,” Sliven began. “As you know, we have always lived in uneasy peace with the farmers on this planet. Your parents were no different. No different, except that for a small moment in time I knew them-and cared for them. “Almost six years ago to this day, there was a battle between my tribe and a group of smugglers who were hiding from their enemies in the desert. These smugglers tried to steal our food and water, and I was hurt in the battle. When the fight ended, I had been separated from my tribe and wounded to the point of near death. I had lost my bantha and was traveling by foot in the desert when I saw your parents’ farm. I had lost blood, and hadn’t had water in several days. I crawled to their doorway. Your mother, Cassa, found me passed out several meters from her front door. She dragged me inside her home, peeled away my robes, and treated my wounds.