The Terminator arrived at Watto's scrapyard, dismounting from its speeder as it surveyed the expansive untidy yard filled with discarded machinery and droid parts, illuminated by flickering overhead lights that cast elongated shadows across the sandy floor.

  The Terminator approached a power generator, its sensors calculating the tactical advantage of cutting off the power. In darkness, its advanced night vision would give it a significant edge. With mechanical precision, it grasped the rusted door of the generator cabinet and wrenched it off its hinges. The metal groaned in protest before giving way. Scanning the tangle of cables within, the Terminator's CPU quickly identified the main power lines. Its hand hovered over the wires, ready to plunge the area into darkness.

  Watto glanced at his gambling companions, irritation evident in his voice. "Where is that woman?" he demanded. "Shmi!" he shouted impatiently, "drinks!"

  In the stifling kitchen quarters, Shmi wiped sweat from her brow. Despite the presence of air conditioning, Watto kept it off to save credits. As she reached for his cheap Kowakian Rum, the shop was suddenly plunged into darkness. The sounds of gambling abruptly ceased.

  "Shmi!" Watto shouted angrily, his voice carrying through the darkness. "The power generator's out again. Fix it!" He then warned his fellow gamblers, "And no cheating! I'm on a winning streak." Watto added a lie, "Toydarians can see in the dark, so I'll know if anyone tries it."

  Shmi fumbled through the darkness as she made her way outside to the generator in the scrapyard. To her surprise, she found the door had been forcefully ripped off, with smoke billowing from inside. Suddenly, she heard Anakin screaming. Startled, she rushed back to her quarters; the power generator could wait.

  Watto waited impatiently, his frustration growing. "What's taking her so long?" he complained. "Why I keep her, I don't know. I treat her well, I give her..."

  His grumbling was abruptly cut short by a thunderous crash as the door was violently smashed open. In the darkness, Watto's eyes widened with terror as he glimpsed a single, ominous red light. Two sudden flashes illuminated the room, accompanied by the sharp sounds of a blaster. The loud thud of bodies hitting the floor followed as two of his gambling buddies collapsed, dead.

  The remaining gamblers and Watto fled, stumbling in the pitch black, desperately seeking cover. Watto managed to hide behind a large tool cabinet on the other side of the room, his eyes fixed on a dim strip of light emanating from a slightly open door.

  The Terminator's red digital vision scanned the room. As it analysed the environment, a cross-hair moved methodically across the space, the eerie glow of its red eye cutting through the shadows and heightening the tension. Its sensors picked up the fluttering of Watto's wings.

  As the Terminator closed in, Watto made a frantic dash for the door. His tiny wings flapped furiously, fuelled by fear and adrenaline, as he narrowly dodged laser blasts that followed him. Bursting outside, Watto didn't dare pause or look back. He quickly ducked behind a pile of scrap metal, his small heart pounding wildly in his chest.

  Pale moonlight spilled into the room, casting an eerie glow on the Terminator as it surveyed its surroundings. Zylox, a Rodian with large eyes, blinked in the shadows. Unable to bear the tension any longer, he stepped out from behind a cabinet and aimed his blaster at the glowing red-eyed figure. The laser blast lit up the room. Though the Terminator was hit, it swiftly returned fire, sending Zylox crashing into the table. Gambling chips and credits tumbled to the ground in a noisy cascade.

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  Quiveran, a nervous-looking green-scaled alien, huddled in the shadows. As Sebulba approached his hiding spot, Quiveran raised a taloned finger to his lips, silently urging him away. Ignoring the warning, Sebulba attempted to squeeze into the cramped space beside him. In doing so, he knocked over an object, creating a loud clatter that instantly drew the Terminator's attention.

  In a desperate move, Sebulba grabbed Quiveran, using the terrified alien as a shield. The Terminator fired without hesitation, its shots striking Quiveran and ending his life instantly. Seizing the moment, Sebulba used his powerful arms to hurl Quiveran's lifeless body at the Terminator. The machine swiftly raised its blaster and fired a couple of rounds, obliterating the corpse, and sending it crashing into a nearby wall.

  Taking advantage of this brief distraction, Sebulba bolted towards the open door. The Terminator spun around to pursue, but Sebulba had already vanished into the darkness. The machine continued its search for Anakin.

  Shmi rushed to Anakin's bedroom, her heart pounding. She found him in the darkness, cowering in the corner, sweat beading on his brow. "Anakin, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

  "I had a dream," he replied, trembling. "A mechanical man was chasing me, trying to kill me."

  "Oh, Anakin," she sighed, relief washing over her. "It was just a nightmare." She sat beside him, gently dabbing the perspiration from his forehead.

  Meanwhile, the Terminator methodically searched each room for its target. Upon encountering a locked door, it aimed its weapon at the control panel and fired. The blast echoed through the building as the door slid open with a hiss. The Terminator walked inside scanning the room for its target.

  The sound of the laser blast jolted Shmi, sending her into a panic. An intruder was in one of the rooms—perhaps someone to whom Watto owed money, or maybe one of the disgruntled gamblers. Whoever it was, they were armed and clearly not friendly.

  "Anakin, hide!" she warned, her voice urgent but hushed. Cautiously peering into the hallway, she strained to see through the darkness. Suddenly, a solitary red eye gleamed at the far end of the corridor. Fear gripped her as she hit the button on the control panel, and the door whooshed shut, frantically engaging the lock.

  Shmi summoned all her strength to push Anakin's bed in front of the door, hoping it would buy her some time to escape. But how? Her eyes darted around the room, glancing at the high window, a desperate plan formed in her mind. "Anakin, quick, come here!"

  "It's the mechanical man I told you about," Anakin whispered, his eyes wide with apprehension.

  Shmi dragged a heavy chest across the room, positioning it directly under the window. She activated the control, but the window only opened halfway before shuddering to a stop. The gap was enough for Anakin but too small for her.

  Standing on the chest, she lifted Anakin without hesitation and pushed him through the opening. He dropped to the sandy ground outside.

  "Hurry, Mom!" Anakin beckoned urgently.

  Shmi tried to squeeze through the gap, but it was too narrow. Suddenly, the door shook with violent banging as the Terminator attempted to break through.

  "I can't get through," she exclaimed, panic rising in her voice. "Anakin, run!"

  "No, Mom!" Anakin cried, torn between obedience and fear for his mother.

  "Go, Anakin! I'll be right behind you. Now go, find a place to hide!"

  With tears in his eyes, Anakin did as his mother ordered, and ran looking for a place to hide.

  Shmi frantically shoved against the window, but it was jammed. Watto was too cheap to get anything repaired. If she'd known about the faulty window, she could have had Anakin fix it. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of blaster shots outside the room, sending her heart racing.

  Peering through the dirty glass, she spotted Watto across the yard, his wings fluttering in distress. She called out to him for help across the scrapyard. The frightened Toydarian, still shaken from his own close call, ignored her pleas and fluttered toward the exit, leaving Shmi to face the impending threat alone.

  The crash of the door startled Shmi, making her spin around. The Terminator attempted to enter the room, but the bed blocked the way. With a loud screech, the cyborg began pushing the door and the bed forward. With a powerful shove, it toppled the bed and stepped inside.

  It fired at Shmi, but she slipped on the smooth surface of the chest, causing the shot to miss and shatter the window instead. With the frame now completely destroyed, she could easily slip through the opening.

  Shmi scrambled to her feet and climbed through the shattered window, a barrage of laser blasts erupting behind her. As she made her escape, a searing pain shot through her leg, as she fell to the ground outside—she had been hit.