Chapter Text
The last thing Owen Lars remembered where Imps invading his farm and torturing (and killing) he and his wife, demanding they give up the droids.
The very first thing Owen Lars did after discovering he traveled back to the day of that infamous Boonta Eve Classic was to make sure that sleemo Jedi didn't get his hands on Shmi's boy.
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The very next thing Owen Lars knew he was 19-years-old again and having a damp rag slapped across his forehead while his father, the late Cliegg Lars, stood over him holding a flask to his lips.
"Yocola!" his very much alive father ordered him.
Owen gulped down a mouthful of water offered to him.
What the tu chai mani happened? Did that crazy old fool from the desert mind trick him?
He talked his dad into leaving him to rest on a sleeping mat in their family speeder where the other moisture farmers parked their rigs while doing business in town. He waited a few minutes until his dad was around the corner and out of sight before he hopped up and loudly announced he needed to run to the privy.
He made his way toward where that fancy Republic ship had landed and sure enough, there was Shmi's boy pfaffing about playing hooky.
Owen snatched the child up and tossed him over his shoulder in time to see that fancy silver space yacht ditch into the desert.
He ignored Ani's kicking and screaming and wriggling and marched back to Mos Epsa's slave quarters and handed him off to the granny with some coins and strict orders to not let him out of Shmi's room.
Next he went to Watto's shop and nearly ran into that Wookie-tall sleemo Jedi from the last time. He glared at the man's back...who turned around and stared at him in confusion.
He quickly went into Watto's shop and told Shmi that Anakin was straying further away from Mos Epsa than someone with a bomb chip should and was returned to her rooms.
She looked aghast at the near miss her child had.
Owen Lars bid her good day to go place a few judicious bets for tomorrow's Boonta Eve classic.
If all went well, he'd have enough money to buy Ms Skywalker and her boy free, sooner rather than later.
He never got a chance to collect because a large red and black Zabrak on a speeder slammed into him at a speed that was well over the legal limit.