Arriving On Tatooine Already Meet An Enemy

EXT. MOS ESPA - STREET - DAY

The little group walked down the bustling main street of Mos Espa. The air was thick with the mingled scents of exotic spices and unwashed bodies, and the cacophony of alien languages created a constant din. Dangerous-looking citizens of all types moved through the crowded streets, their eyes wary and suspicious.

Padmé, dressed in her rough peasant's garb, looked around in awe at the exotic environment. She had never seen anything quite like this.

Qui-Gon, ever the guide, explained, "Mos Espa is made up of moisture farms for the most part, but also a few indigenous tribes and scavengers. The few spaceports like this one are havens for those who do not wish to be found..."

Padmé, catching on quickly, added, "...like us."

Jar Jar Binks, meanwhile, was in a constant state of panic. His eyes darted nervously around, and his long ears drooped with worry.

R2-D2, whistling confidently, rolled along beside them, unfazed by the chaotic surroundings.

"This place is berry, berry bad," Jar Jar muttered, his anxiety reaching new heights. Just then, he stepped in something unpleasant and sticky. "Ooooh...icky...icky...goo," he groaned, lifting his foot and shaking it in disgust.

Gojo and Tooru walked alongside the group, their expressions a mix of curiosity and mild amusement. Gojo's eyes sparkled as he took in the bustling activity around them, while Tooru remained impassive, his gaze assessing the various individuals they passed.

"Interesting place," Gojo remarked, his tone light. "Lots of... character."

Tooru nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Indeed. Let's try not to cause any trouble, though."

Gojo chuckled. "For now, anyway."

The group continued their trek through the spaceport, aware of the dangers lurking around every corner but determined to find the parts they needed to repair their ship and continue their journey. The streets of Mos Espa held many secrets, and they were just beginning to uncover them.

INT. MOS ESPA - JUNK SHOP - DAY

Qui-Gon Jinn, Jar Jar Binks, Padmé, Gojo, Tooru, and Artoo entered the dingy junk shop. They were greeted by Watto, a pudgy blue alien who flew on short little wings like a hummingbird.

"Hi chuba da naga?" Watto asked in Huttese, his beady eyes assessing the newcomers.

"I need parts for a J-type 327 Nubian," Qui-Gon replied, his voice steady and authoritative.

Watto's eyes lit up with recognition. "Ah yes, ah yes. Nubian. We have lots of that. What kinda junk?" He turned and called out, "Peedenkel! Naba dee unko!"

A disheveled boy, Anakin Skywalker, ran in from the junkyard. Around nine years old, he was dirty and dressed in rags. At the sight of Watto's raised hand, Anakin flinched instinctively.

Gojo, noticing the boy's reaction, stepped forward and patted Anakin on the head. "Hey kid, you look like you could use a break," he teased.

Anakin, annoyed, shrugged off Gojo's hand. "Stop that," he said, glaring at Gojo.

Watto, noticing the interaction, interjected, "He's not for sale... yet. He's expensive."

Gojo smirked and mockingly replied, "Oh, a fat drake with a big nose like you wouldn't know quality if it hit you in the face."

Watto's wings fluttered faster in agitation, his expression turning sour. "I'm a businessman, not a charity. What do you want?"

Qui-Gon, sensing the rising tension, stepped in to diffuse the situation. "Let's focus on what we discussed," he said to Watto, steering the conversation back to the needed parts.

R2-D2 and Qui-Gon followed Watto toward the junkyard, leaving Jar Jar with Padmé, Gojo, Tooru, and Anakin. Jar Jar picked up a gizmo, trying to figure out its purpose.

"Don't touch anything," Qui-Gon instructed as he walked away.

Jar Jar made a rude face at Qui-Gon's back and stuck out his long tongue. Anakin sat on the counter, pretending to clean a part, but his eyes were glued to Padmé, clearly captivated by her presence.

Finally, summoning his courage, Anakin spoke. "Are you an angel?"

Padmé blinked, taken aback. "What?"

"An angel. I've heard the deep space pilots talk about them. They live on the Moons of Iego, I think. They are the most beautiful creatures in the universe. They are good and kind, and so pretty they make even the most hardened spice pirate cry."

Padmé looked at him, not knowing what to say. "I've never heard of angels."

"You must be one... maybe you just don't know it," Anakin insisted, his voice filled with conviction.

Padmé chuckled softly. "You're a funny little boy. How do you know so much?"

Anakin's face grew serious. "Since I was very little, three, I think. My Mom and I were sold to Gardulla the Hutt, but she lost us, betting on the Podraces, to Watto, who's a lot better master than Gardulla, I think."

"You're... a slave?" Padmé asked, her voice tinged with sorrow.

Anakin looked at her defiantly. "I am a person! My name is Anakin."

The scene was bathed in the soft, dusty light filtering through the junk shop's grimy windows. Anakin, though young and rough around the edges, exuded a determination that caught Padmé off guard. His innocent question about angels juxtaposed against his harsh reality as a slave tugged at her heart.

Gojo's playful antics added an unexpected layer of humor to the moment. Pretending to snap a photo, he teased, "Look, we have a couple here."

Anakin's face flushed red with a mix of embarrassment and anger. "HEY Stop that!" he snapped, swinging a fist at Gojo. The punch never landed, of course, stopped short by Gojo's invisible barrier.

"Why can't I hit you?" Anakin demanded, frustration evident in his voice as he kept trying to breach the barrier.

Gojo chuckled, unfazed. "Maybe your love towards someone isn't big enough," he teased further.

Padmé's soft laugh broke the tension. "Alright, Gojo, that's enough teasing," she said, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Anakin, though still annoyed, found himself calming down. He continued to glare at Gojo, who simply smirked in response. Padmé, observing the interaction, felt a strange sense of camaraderie beginning to form, despite the chaotic circumstances. This moment, filled with innocence, humor, and an underlying depth of emotions, was one she would remember for a long time.

INT. WATTO'S JUNK SHOP - DAY

The shop was a cluttered maze of spare parts and gadgets, each piled haphazardly on shelves and tables. The air was thick with the scent of oil and metal. Jar Jar, with his innate clumsiness, reached for a part, causing an entire stack to come crashing down. He frantically tried to catch the falling pieces, only to knock over more items, creating a symphony of clanks and clatters. Meanwhile, Anakin and Padmé were deep in conversation, completely unaware of Jar Jar's antics.

Anakin's eyes shone with enthusiasm as he spoke, his voice filled with a blend of pride and excitement. "...I wouldn't have lasted long if I weren't so good at fixing things. I'm making my own droid..."

Qui-Gon entered the shop briskly, his long robes swishing with each step. Artoo rolled in behind him, his domed head whirring softly.

"We're leaving," Qui-Gon announced, his tone firm yet calm.

Jar Jar, still in a state of chaos, scrambled to follow Qui-Gon, his long ears flopping about comically. Padmé, however, lingered for a moment, giving Anakin a warm, lingering look that seemed to hold a promise of something more.

Padmé's voice was gentle as she spoke, "I'm glad I met you, ah..."

Anakin, sensing the need to respond, quickly interjected, "...Anakin."

"Anakin," she repeated, the name rolling off her tongue with a certain fondness.

"Anakin Skywalker," he clarified, as if the full name carried more weight.

"Padmé Naberrie," she replied, her smile radiant.

At that moment, Gojo, ever the showman, interjected with a flourish, "And I am Gojo Satoru!"

Anakin, his face showing a mix of irritation and curiosity, retorted, "Nobody asked."

Gojo, feigning a deep sadness, exaggerated his expression into a comical pout. Padmé, catching on to the playful banter, gently patted Gojo's shoulder, trying to cheer him up. "Oh, don't be sad, Gojo. We all know who you are."

Anakin watched the exchange, his frustration momentarily forgotten as he observed the strange group. The corner of his mouth twitched in what might have been the beginning of a smile.

Padmé turned to leave, her steps measured and graceful, but she glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes locking with Anakin's. "I'm glad I met you too," she said softly.

Just then, Watto floated into the junkyard, shaking his head in exasperation. His wings buzzed like an irritated insect's as he surveyed the mess left in Jar Jar's wake.

"Outlanders! They think because we live so far from the center, we don't know anything. And I hate that silver guy," Watto muttered, his voice dripping with disdain.

Anakin, trying to keep his spirits high, responded, "They seemed nice to me, but I don't like that silver-haired guy."

Watto's annoyance was palpable. "Clean the racks, then you can go home."

Anakin let out a joyful "Yipee!" and dashed out the back, leaving the cluttered shop behind and not giving another thought to the mess or the enigmatic newcomers.

Padmé chuckled softly at the scene, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Gojo, ever the center of attention, gave a mock salute as they exited the shop. "Onward to more adventures!" he declared, his voice filled with theatrical bravado.

Qui-Gon, trying to maintain order and focus, sighed deeply. "Let's hope the next stop is less eventful."

As the group left the shop, the bustling streets of Mos Espa stretched out before them, a world full of unknown challenges and unexpected encounters. The heat of the twin suns beat down on them, but their spirits were undeterred, ready to face whatever came next.

EXT. MOS ESPA - STREET - ALCOVE - DAY

Qui-Gon, R2-D2, Jar Jar, Padmé, Gojo, and Tooru had found a quiet spot between two buildings. The bustling street beyond was filled with dangerous-looking creatures, each appearing more menacing than the last. Qui-Gon was intently speaking into his com-link, while Jar Jar kept a nervous watch on the street, his eyes darting around in apprehension. Padmé stood by, observing the scene with a mix of curiosity and caution. Gojo and Tooru, both alert and observant, scanned their surroundings, ready to respond to any threat.

In the main hold of the Naboo craft, Obi-Wan's voice crackled through the com-link. "Obi-Wan, you're sure there isn't anything of value left on board?" Qui-Gon asked, his tone tinged with concern.

Obi-Wan's voice responded, "A few containers of supplies, the Queen's wardrobe, maybe. Not enough for you to barter with. Not in the amounts you're talking about."

Qui-Gon sighed, running a hand through his hair. "All right. Another solution will present itself. I'll check back." With that, he put his com-link away and prepared to step back into the chaotic main street.

Just as he was about to move, Jar Jar grabbed his arm, his eyes wide with fear. "Noah gain... da beings hereabouts cawazy. Wesa be robbed un crunched," he pleaded, his voice trembling.

Qui-Gon, maintaining his calm demeanor, gently reassured him. "Not likely. We have nothing of value, that's our problem." Glancing at Gojo, he added, "Even if we are, they wouldn't dare to try."

Gojo, with a smirk, interjected, "I already kicked their asses."

Qui-Gon, shaking his head in a mix of amusement and exasperation, responded, "Of course you did."

Tooru, observing the surroundings with his usual enigmatic smile, commented, "It's surprisingly lively for such a dangerous place."

Jar Jar, slightly comforted by the exchange, nodded nervously but stayed close to the group. Padmé chuckled softly at Gojo's bravado, her own nerves slightly eased by the humor.

The group stepped back into the main street, navigating the crowded and treacherous paths of Mos Espa with a newfound sense of determination. Despite the potential dangers, the presence of Gojo and Qui-Gon's unwavering confidence provided a sense of security amidst the chaos.

EXT. MOS ESPA - STREET - MARKET - DAY

The bustling market of Mos Espa was filled with the chatter of traders and the diverse array of creatures that inhabited the desert planet. Qui-Gon, Padmé, Jar Jar, and R2-D2 moved through the crowded street, their eyes scanning for any useful supplies. Jar Jar, walking a bit behind the others, found himself distracted by the myriad of stalls and the strange items they offered.

As they passed an outdoor cafe filled with a rough gang of aliens, Jar Jar's eyes landed on a stall selling dead frogs hanging on a wire. His mouth watered at the sight. Glancing around to ensure no one was watching, he stuck out his tongue and managed to get hold of one, pulling it into his mouth. Unfortunately for Jar Jar, the frog was tied tightly to the wire.

"Hey, that will be seven truguts!" the vendor suddenly shouted, appearing out of nowhere.

Jar Jar opened his mouth in surprise, and the frog snapped away, ricocheting around the market. It flew through the air, ultimately landing in the soup of an especially ugly, spider-like creature named Sebulba, splashing him. The bustling market seemed to pause as Sebulba's enraged eyes locked onto Jar Jar.

Sebulba jumped up on the table, his voice a growl. "Chuba!! (You!!)"

Jar Jar, now in full panic mode, stammered, "Who, mesa??"

Sebulba held the frog up menacingly. "Ni chuba na?? (Is this yours??)"

Just as Sebulba was about to get even angrier, Gojo intervened, striding over with a confident swagger. With a swift, exaggerated kick, he knocked Sebulba back. The world seemed to slow down, JoJo-style lines radiating from Gojo as he posed dramatically.

"Enemy alert!" Gojo declared, striking a flamboyant pose, his fingers pointing menacingly at Sebulba.

Jar Jar, catching on to Gojo's act, echoed, "Mesa enemy!" and mimicked Gojo's pose, albeit awkwardly.

The two began to kick Sebulba in perfect synchronization, their movements overly dramatic and accompanied by intense sound effects, as if from an anime. Each kick was punctuated by shouts of "Enemy!" and "Take this!"

From a distance, Tooru and Anakin, watching the commotion, exchanged glances. Unable to resist the infectious energy, they rushed over and joined in. Tooru mimicked Gojo's pose perfectly, while Anakin, with youthful enthusiasm, tried his best to keep up.

The four of them created a whirlwind of exaggerated kicks and punches, Sebulba's confusion growing with each hit.

"ORA ORA ORA ORA!" Gojo shouted, channeling his inner JoJo protagonist.

As the scene grew more chaotic, Tooru suddenly stopped and, with a mock serious tone, called out, "Wait, Master Satoru! He is not the enemy; he is just a poor civilian and already passed out."

Anakin, still catching his breath, thanked Gojo but added, "Thanks, old man. I always wanted to kick this guy but never got the chance."

Gojo, pretending to be deeply hurt by the "old man" comment, exaggeratedly clutched his chest. "Old man?! I'm in the prime of my life!"

Padmé and Qui-Gon arrived, bewildered by the scene. The four—Gojo, Anakin, Tooru, and Jar Jar—stood in unison, striking one final pose, and declared proudly, "We just beat up an enemy!"

Qui-Gon sighed, shaking his head, while Padmé couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. The strange camaraderie between them was clear, despite the unconventional bonding activity.

Qui-Gon stepped forward, his voice laced with a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Gojo, you can't just go around kicking people."

Padmé, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, added, "At least you didn't cause any serious trouble... this time."

Gojo grinned, crossing his arms. "See? No harm done. Just a little fun."

Anakin looked up at Gojo with newfound admiration. "You really are something else, old man."

Gojo ruffled Anakin's hair. "And you're not too bad yourself, kid."

The group, now in better spirits, continued their way through the market, ready to face whatever other surprises Mos Espa had in store for them.