This place is better than anywhere I've seen – even Watto never got stuff like this, even when that big Federation ship crashed in the Dune Sea and we beat the Jawas to the scavenging site. I mean, on Tatooine you had to scrape and scrounge to find decent junk; here, I'm up to my waist in the castoffs, things people have thrown away as trash. The compacting walls are only activated every other day, that's what the droid in the magrail train said, so I figure today's an off day. This is rugged. There's about a million different droid components and a bunch of stuff I don't even know the name for. And I know pretty much everything there is to know about cybernetics and astromechanics. Mom always said I could fix anything, and it's true.

And everybody just seems to be taking what they want – that fat guy on the docking platform called it the Dumps, but maybe it should be called the Treasure Trove. There was a cantina in Mos Eisley called that. The guy that owned it was really nice, too, until some bounty hunter sleemos from Anchorhead got in a brawl and accidentally killed him with their blasters. Anyway, it's like everything here is free for the taking. And the 'cycling droids are scooping up bits and pieces into their hover bins, so really what would it matter of I just picked up a couple things that might be interesting later on? You know, just for fun.

Too bad this converter diode won't fit inside my tunic or a belt pouch. I wish I could have brought a satchel or something. These Jedi clothes are kind of annoying that way- you can't carry around a lot of stuff. Master Obi-Wan says it's an impediment to anyone trying to neglect the rule about possession, but I think it's just kind of dumb. 'Cause sometimes possessions can come in handy. Master says there is a line between possession and neurotic hoarding, and I've not only crossed it but left it a parsec behind. He says a lot of stuff like that, with his voice all flat so you can't tell if he's mad or not… but he hasn't made me clean up my room yet, so I guess that's all that really matters.

I think I'll keep this coil transceiver, and these little universal binary plugs.

There's seriously nothing in Master's room. I mean nothing. Not even a holo or a decoration or something. I guess he must have taken a vow of - what do you call it?- chastity or something. It's like nobody lives there at all. It kind of reminds me of the way the Tuskens drag a cloth in the sand behind their scouts, to wipe out their tracks. They can cross the desert at night, and you would never know anybody was there, 'cause they leave no footprints. I wonder who Obi-Wan thinks is trying to follow him?

His own memories, or something, I guess. People are weird.

But Mom says that everybody should be appreciated for themselves, not for what we want out of them. I mean, she used to say that. Before. I really miss her still, even though I'm not supposed to. I don't just appreciate her. I love her. And someday, I'm gonna go back and free her and all the other slaves. 'Cause I promised. And I bet I can even get Master to help me do it, if I'm really good and all and do all the right Jedi stuff first.

'Course, I'm not exactly, technically being good right now – I mean, I'm supposed to be on the Legislative District tour with the other initiates, but that is so boring. When I came to Coruscant the first time, and got to stay with Padme and all the handmaidens, I saw everything, and they let me go everywhere. So I've been there, done that. This is way better any day, and I'll figure out how to get back to the Temple before evening meal, so nobody gets their knickers in a twist. I mean, I used to go out all night past Mos Eisley's outskirts on collecting trips for Watto. And these Jedi kids can't even take a field trip without about a million chaperones. It's kind of annoying how sheltered they all are.

Uh-oh. That guy in the uniform looks like business and he's pointing to me like he wants to talk. Maybe all these spare parts aren't up for grabs after all, but then again, he doesn't seem mad. More like worried or something. I better tell him it's okay. Prob'ly when he figures out I'm a Jedi he'll just leave me alone. Master says "the Order commands a great deal of respect in the Republic's coreworlds", so that should count for something, right? Here comes that policeman or whoever he is. I'll just shove this piece of microwire in my pocket and tell him straight up that I don't' need any help.