(A/N) Dear lawd, it's been a long time since I updated this. However, I'm back in the swing of both having time and inspiration. This one and the chapter following are a two-part thing. Will be updating more frequently. Please R and R, let me know what you think

"What are we doing down here, Anakin?" Tru whispered behind him, compressing his lithe body through a crack behind a trash receptacle. "We're not really supposed to be in the lower levels, especially at night." Anakin knew his friend wasn't really nervous, and he didn't exactly blame him for being uncomfortable, but he had things he needed to do, and the lower levels were the only ones that would service his needs at this point. Especially since what he needed wasn't exactly easy to find. Or legal.

Obi-Wan's twenty-fifth life day was approaching, and he had been working for over a month on a small repair droid his master could fit in his pocket; one that could repair most electronic devices from a comlink to a lightsaber. But he needed the right kind of compressor. And this kind of compressor didn't exactly tend to agree with its own. In order to have enough power to boost the different chips all at once, the compressor had to be able to alternate it's power cores; a feature that tended to cause them to blow up, especially in ship engines. But he thought he could rig a small one to be perfectly safe; he only needed to get one.

"I need a T-5 compressor, and they don't sell them in the market."

"Probably because they're classified as a type III dangerous object by the Senate."

Anakin grinned over at Tru, flipping over a tube he had found in a passing rubbish bin that he thought might be useful for other projects. "You know what that means, Tru?"

Tru looked confused, and shook his head, bending his fingers back to touch his wrist. "That it could be two more levels of dangerous."

His friend laughed and followed him more easily, winding through dark streets, avoiding corners where individuals, typically covered in rings of smoke, hovered in darkness. They ducked around corners where females of all species and a few males stood covered in very few clothing, looking at them through thick-lidded eyes and pursed lips.

Anakin pushed his way into a dark store, where a range of different blaster models lined the racks. The being behind the counter was a species he couldn't quite place; blue skinned, almost jawless, staring at them with eyes that seemed to have no pupils. He was polishing a blaster of his own, metal guards bending with each of the joints on his fingers.

"This isn't a place for kids." He snarled, his eyes never wavering from them. "Unless you've got enough money."

"I need a T5 compressor." Anakin could feel the fear coming off of Tru, but he'd dealt with worse than this at Watto's shop. And on the four missions he and Obi-Wan had been on so far; they'd seen death and dealt with worse things than a sarcastic shop owner.

"Don't have one. Class III dangerous." He seemed to look them over more carefully. "Figured Jedi might know that." He stopped for a minute, and Anakin could feel him trying to make up his mind. He had one, he knew the man was lying, but he wasn't quite sure how to make him give it to him. "Get out, I don't need trouble."

"We're not here to report you," Tru said, his silver eyes turned to examine the long lines of weaponry that barely shone in the faint light coming from behind the counter. "We're just here to buy."

"You Jedi work for the Senate."

"We also work for ourselves," said Tru. "And we aren't technically Jedi, not yet."

"Yeah," said Anakin. "Which means, if you want to sell us that compressor, we don't have to report that MX16 Blaster Rifle that sure looks the one that was stolen from a Senate guard last night in one of the bars down here." He watched the man carefully, but also felt around him with the force as best he could. A slight jump in the man's demeanor confirmed his hunch.

The man said nothing, but reached underneath the table, where Anakin could hear a lock clicking, and thumped a brand new looking T5 compressor on the counter. "100 credits, little Jedi." He was not amused, that much was obvious, and Anakin could feel that it was definitely time for him and Tru to be leaving. He counted them out, most of his discretionary income for the month (but he had never spent eh full amount, he always felt he had more than enough at the temple), and slid them across the table, tucking the compressor into his belt.

"Thanks." He said, Tru nodding in agreement before they turned to leave. They stepped out of the shop, moving back to where the lift to take them back to the Temple level was waiting. But as they walked, Anakin could feel a presence following them. He looked at Tru, but it was clear that his friend had felt the same. They quickened their pace, eyes down so as not to attract attention, and Anakin began to think that perhaps his friend was right and this had been a bad idea.

"What's your hurry, Jedi?" He could hear a voice, half-expecting a man from the shop, but it was in fact not him. "Don't get many of the little ones down this far." Neither Padawan acknowledged him, but kept moving. Anakin stopped just in time to avoid running square into the chest of a massive, half-armored being in front of him. Tru was not so lucky, running head first into one, only his extreme flexibility keeping him upright.

"Got any credits, Jedi?" the voice came up behind them, and Anakin turned around. By dress, this human was a bounty hunter, his tight fitting clothes athletic and buckled to hold an assortment of weapons and accessories used in heists and quick getaways. He was eyeing Anakin like one might look at meat; drawing up rather unpleasant memories of his time on Tatooine.

He put his hand on his lightsaber, but he wasn't an idiot. Tru was still wielding a training lightsaber, and there was no way he could take on this man, as well as the two brutes behind them and now two women who had joined the group.

"You're awfully quiet." One of the women said, as heavily armed as the man in front. "He just bought a T5 compressor off of Jac, but he might have something left. You know how Jac is with money."

"We are liaisons of the Galactic Senate, let us go now and no harm will come to you." Anakin had to briefly admire Tru's bravery, but the bounty hunters did not share the same sentiment. They were instead met with a laugh.

"If you think we're scared of the Senate, baby Jedi, you've still got a lot to learn." The man reached into his sleeve. Anakin braced himself for a withdrawal of a knife, a blaster, some kind of weapon; but it was only a small metal sliver that the man let rest in between his teeth. It flicked up and down with each word he spoke, and if Anakin hadn't thought they were going to be robbed, he might have found it funny.

"Credits." He said, and extended a hand for them to place them in. Anakin looked at Tru, they hadn't come all the way down here for them to lose the compressor. If he lost it now, all of this work would have been for nothing, and to top that off, he would have nothing for Obi-Wan's life day. He took in a deep breath and drew his lightsaber.

"Well now," The woman was talking again, circling around them. "They've got lightsabers. Those'll go for a good price." She took a step around to Tru's side, examining his arm where he held a training saber in his fingers. The metal pick in the man's teeth bobbed as he smiled, pulling a blaster from the folds of his jacket.

"Give them up, little Jedi." He said, as Anakin activated his blade, the blue illuminating them, Tru doing the same with the small red one he carried. He wondered briefly, since Tru had been on missions, why he didn't have an actual lightsaber but now was not the time to wonder about it. Instead, he tried to think of a strategy, a plan that would get them out of this. He tried to calculate distances in his head like Obi-Wan always seemed to do, tried to estimate how close their landing point was, if they could leap and outrun these bounty hunters. Maybe, maybe if he could push them back, just a bit.

He reached out a hand, trying to let the force flow through it, push away this threat even as a pair of arms clamped onto his shoulders. He tried hard, trying to concentrate, slowly becoming overwhelmed by Tru's panic next to him as the Teevan was hoisted into the air. He could feel the force, hovering right on the edge of everything. He felt a hard pull on his lightsaber, and tightened his grip, concentrating his focus on the man in front of him.

To his amazement, the man, his blaster having been so close to Anakin's face, went flying sideways into the wall, growling expletives, whipping wildly around to aim his blaster at Anakin's head. Anakin tried to push again, but nothing happened. The man stood, coming closer, cursing in a language he hadn't heard. He tried to push again, but the force was conspicuously absent.

"Give. Me. Those." He took Anakin's saber from him, the blue blade disappearing . "Anakin…" He heard True whisper, they had wrestled the training saber from him. "What to do with you now?" The man snarled again, the metal point of his pick perhaps three centimeters from Anakin's face. The hands on his shoulders tightened, he heard a gasp of pain from Tru as they did the same to him.

He steeled his face, waiting; he could smell the man's breath through his teeth; could feel the anger pulsing off of him. But he refused to bow down. If they were going to shoot him, so be it; but he kept his eyes locked on the man's. Then suddenly, the brown eyes that had been locked with his vanished, and he was staring hard at what seemed to be an empty street.