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. 

~~~~

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. 

Chapter Text

Owen Lars was in an upbeat mood after successfully keeping Shmi's boy away from the sleemo Jedi and placing some judicious bets on the outcome of 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.

If all went really well he'd have enough money for Ms Skywalker, her boy, and he and Beru could get hitched earlier than the last time. 

If things went really, really well then newly expanded Lars family was looking to rival the Darklighter clan because Owen would also be buying those new hyper efficient vaporators that were the talk of Tatooine and put Anchorhead town on the map. 

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. 

The very next thing Owen Lars knew he was again having a damp rag slapped across his forehead while his father, the late Cliegg Lars, stood over him holding a flask to his lips commanding him to drink. 

After discovering that, yes, it was the same damn date all over again, the day before that infamous Boonta Eve Classic, the first thing Owen Lars did was to make sure that sleemo Jedi didn't get his hands on Shmi's boy...again! 

He stood up and brushed his father off while chugging down the water and made a beeline march to where he last saw Shmi's boy. His father yelling for him to stop and trying to catch him up. 

There was a silver glint of an incoming ship over their heads as he snatched the yelling and kicking child up and marched him back to Watto's shop. 

He stuck his head inside and said, "Your kid was getting to close to the boom line, Ms Skywalker. You should put him in time out with the grannies today, okay?"  

Ma, Shmi, twittered and scolded her son and Watto gave her leave to escort the boy to their room in the slave quarters. 

Owen and Cliegg Lars watched them round the corner out of sight just as a young version of that tooska chai mani of Crazy Old Hermit Ben made his way down the lane. 

Owen dragged his father away toward the bookies stall and placed some safe bets on the Boonta Eve Classic. Anakin wouldn't be winning his freedom so that left the previous runner's ups;  Gasgano, Aldar Beedo, Ebe Endocott.

Nobody was expecting Sebulba to wipe out on the third lap. He was the favorite to win. 

The next day Owen saw young Crazy Ben talking to a scruffy, dirty Kiffar that hung around the spaceport absolutely everyone in Mos Epsa knew was a spice smuggler. 

The next day the race pretty much ended as he predicted and he chortled as he collected his winnings. He cleaned up on the booster round correctly naming who would get picked off by Tuskans in the first lap. 

He never got to spend them because Sebulba's sponsors were highly irate their cash cow not only didn't finish the Boonta Eve Classic but died. 

Owen Lars highly specific and improbable bet smelled like sabotage (which was Sebulba's favorite strategy) and hence painted a target on his back. 

They dragged him off for a chat about where his insider knowledge came from which ended with Owen Lars dead...yet again. 

Chapter Text

The last thing Owen Lars remembered was cleaning up on the booster round of Boonta Eve Classic bets by correctly naming who died in order during the Boonta Eve Classic. 

There were many things that one could bet on at Jabba's gambling shops; who would win the Boonta Eve Classic, who would finish the race, who would die in a glorious ball of flames running head first into a cliff wall in Jag Crag Gorge, or who would lose the most money betting on the Boonta Eve Classic.  

He never got to spend his ill-gotten gains because Sebulba's sponsors were highly irate their cash cow not only didn't finish the Boonta Eve Classic but died. 

Owen Lars highly specific and improbable bet smelled like sabotage (which was Sebulba's favorite strategy and perfectly legal) but painted a target on his back. They dragged him off for a chat about where his insider knowledge came from which ended with Owen Lars dead...yet again. 

The very next thing Owen Lars knew he was again having a damp rag slapped across his forehead while his father, the late Cliegg Lars, stood over him holding a flask to his lips commanding him to drink. 

Owen pushed aside the water bottle and staggered into the nearest cantina and ordered a Red Dwarf and sat nursing it while his father nagged him. 

He finished his drink and walked outside, looked carefully both ways, and stomped over to where Anakin Skywalker had been lollygagging around previously. 

The fancy silver space yacht was nowhere in sight. Weird. It should have crashed by now. 

Whatever.

His father was still nagging him when he grabbed the kid and hoisted him over his shoulder and marched back to the slave quarters and handed the granny a handful of wupiupi to watch the kid until Shmi- Ms Skywalker got back. 

He made a modest bet that would cover the cost of freeing the Skywalkers and maybe one of those new fancy high-efficiency vaporators if a "long shot" paid off and followed his dad back to their speeder. 

The next day they watched the race and Owen Lars and he thought he saw that Naboo girlfriend that Shmi's boy brung home in the crowd but her large, odd flappy alien companion called her "Dormé Meesa-". 

He squinted. "No, guess it's not her", he thought. 

He and his father went to Watto's shop and made the broke and gloomy Toydarian a bargain for the Skywalkers. 

The alien brightened up and after a bit of haggling, Cliegg Lars and Owen walked out with Shmi Skywalker and her son. 

The Lars' loaded their new family members into their speeder and went home to the Lars Family Homestead on the Great Chott salt flat. 

A few months later Owen Lars married Beru Whitesun and another dome and another vaporator was added to the Lars family homestead. 

~~~~

Shmi's boy grew up to be so much like Luke that Owen frequently forgot who he was talking to and would call him by the wrong name accidentally. 

Which was awkward because nobody but Owen remembered who Luke was. Not even Beru who loved the boy like her own son remembered Luke. 

Owen got misty eyed. There probably wouldn't ever be a Luke now. 

"Who is Luke?", Ani demanded for the umpteenth time. 

"Just someone I used to know a long time ago."  Owen didn't lie outright. Crazy old Ben told him they could tell when you're lying. "He's gone now but you remind me of him." It was the truth. One he told Ani many, many times. 

The boy gave him a suspicious look. 

"What are you doing back from school so soon? It doesn't get out for another hour." 

Shmi's boy frequently skipped classes despite knowing how much money that school in Anchorhead cost. He, like Luke, preferred spending all his time fixing and racing skyhoppers out by Tosche Station. 

Owen Lars was equal parts nostalgic and pissed. 

"School is boring. They teach a bunch of poodoo I don't care about and everyone is a goo du wermo!", replied the boy stooped over the farm speeder fiddling with the all-tool kit. 

That was different from Luke. 'Wormie' Skywalker was popular and beloved by everyone. 

Shmi's boy...not so much. He didn't seem to be able to make friends among the Freeborn kids in Anchorhead. 

At first the elder Lars' thought he was being bullied for having been enslaved....but the Freed kids in Mos Pelgo and slave kids of Mos Taike didn't like him either. 

"Stuck up" and "thinks he's better than everyone" was a frequent refrain. 

Shmi was beside herself. Anakin had friends when they were in Mos Epsa! 

"Please try to settle in! These are our friends and neighbors now!" 

"Why should I pretend I'm not better than them? None of them are getting off this dust ball!" 

Anakin slapped his all-tool into the palm of his hand. Owen had grabbed him by the collar and dragged him into the house for yet another dressing down tool still in hand, torque wrench still attached. 

"Boy, you've gotten too big for your britches. You aren't any better than the rest of us."

And didn't that trip the boy's trigger. He immediately turned red with rage and screamed, "I am too better than them! I am special! I am a miracle! My mother told me I was a miracle!" 

"Good lord, your mother is still telling you that old nonsense?", Cliegg Lars asked. "It's time and past you told him the truth, Shmi. He's grown now. He can handle the truth." 

Ani looked taken aback. "What truth? What are you talking about? My mother wouldn't lie to me!" 

Shmi looked uncomfortable but said, "Ani...you know I love you, right? You're my miracle baby. You always will be-"

"Mom, what are you trying to say!? Did you lie to me!?" 

"Ani...when I said you didn't have a father and you were a miracle, I wasn't lying-"

Anakin shouts, "What are you talking about?" 

Cliegg interrupts his yelling before Shmi can answer, "Boy, your mom was owned by Gardulla the Hutt. That creature might have spent all it's wealth gambling but it earned all it's wealth from brothels. Of course her slaves don't know who fathered their kids." 

Anakin couldn't have looked more utterly flabbergasted and horrified if Cliegg Lars had told him Jabba Desilijic Tiure himself was his long lost dad! 

He stumbled away from Cliegg and Shmi and said, "No! No! You're lying. You're all lying!"  

Shmi reached out to hold and comfort him, "Ani, I'm sorry I lied-" 

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" Anakin swung the heavy tool in he was holding and struck her down! 

Owen, Beru, Cliegg screamed in horror as Shmi collapsed on the floor, blood pouring from the wound. 

Beru and Cliegg reached her first. "Druk! She's dead, boy! She's dead! You killed her! You killed your mother!"  

"YOU MADE ME DO IT!!! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!!!" Anakin turned on Cliegg Lars screaming in rage and began striking him with the wrench. 

Beru and Owen dragged him off and pinned him to the ground. Owen shouted to the bleeding Cliegg Lars, "Get some rope or wire or something! We need to turn him into the sheriff at Mos Epsa!"  

Anakin roared with rage and threw them off, slamming them against the walls across the room. 

His eyes were glowing gold. 

Crazy old Ben had told Owen that if one of them wizards with gold eyes and red laser swords showed up to run for the hills. 

Owen thought the boy's magic had faded with age just like Luke's had. Old Ben had wanted to train Luke but but thankfully the crazy floating stuff had waned by time the boy was school age. 

Anakin never made anything float. He was just good at gambling and racing. Sometimes slave owners had a run of bad luck when he was around.  Owen figured his magic wasn't that strong or had faded like Old Ben said Luke's would fade if he wasn't trained. 

Owen Lars had clearly thought wrong because Anakin Skywalker's face was twisted up in rage and his eyes were glowing gold just like the evil space wizards Crazy Old Ben had warned him about. 

"I HATE YOU!!! I HATE ALL OF YOU!!" 

And Owen and Beru and Cleigg's necks snapped. 

Chapter Text

Anakin Skywalker's face was twisted up in rage and his eyes were glowing gold just like the evil space wizards Crazy Old Ben had warned him about. 

Crazy old Ben had told Owen that if one of them wizards with gold eyes and red laser swords showed up to run for the hills. But Owen and Beru and Cleigg never had a chance. The last thing Owen Lars saw was Anakin's rage-twisted face before he put his palm out in front of them and all their necks snapped. 

"I HATE YOU!!! I HATE ALL OF YOU!!", was the last thing Owen Lars heard his beloved little brother scream. 

~~~~

The very next thing Owen Lars knew he was again having a damp rag slapped across his forehead while his father, the late Cliegg Lars, stood over him holding a flask to his lips commanding him to drink. 

He took the water bottle. "I'm fine dad. You don't need to fuss. Just let me rest a moment and I'll catch you up later." 

Owen sat on the family speeder amongst the other moisture farmer's rigs sipping from the bottle. 

He came to a decision and swung his feet down and stood up. He yelled vaguely in the direction of the other moisture farmers loitering in the area he was off to the privy if his dad was looking for him. 

He did not march to the end of town where Anakin was goofing off. Instead he went to the betting shop and placed a modestly-sized safe bet and small "silly" bet he told the bookie was just for the fun of it.  

While he was buying lunch for him and his dad, the sleek, silver space-yacht streaked overhead.....and landed safely at the spaceport? What the kark happened? 

No! No, the ship with the space wizards was supposed to crash land on the other side of town where Skywalker was!  How were they supposed to find him if they were on the wrong side of town!  They needed to find Skywalker and take him away!  

Owen grabbed the bag of food and ran to the over crowded space port. There were thousands of ships parked with pod-racing enthusiasts come for the race! 

He raced along the rows asking the lot attendants, "Where did that fancy silver yacht land?"

Eventually he stumbled up to the ship...just as the passengers were getting off. 

The shabby, sleezy Kiffar with the gold band across his nose from before seemed to be waiting for them. 

It was a whole different pack of fancy ladies in weird stiff gray shawls and purple velvet dresses...AND A MANDO? Where was the gaggalak Space Wizard? 

"We're not the Jeedai you're looking for." The mando's vocoder crackled. His armor was painted the same shade of brown that Old Ben Kenobi always wore and decorated with an orange sunburst. 

Owen Lars blinked. Had he said that out loud? 

The Kiffar held out his arm for the lady with the craziest black feathery plume hairdo and dress and said, "Lady Jamillia, we should find plenty of beroya at the Mos Eisley cantina. There should be speeders we can rent in town." 

They walked off and Owen Lars stared after them. 

He turned and went back to the Lars family speeder with the food. His dad didn't comment on how long it took. The town was always full of people and places to see on race days. It was easy for a kid to get sidetracked. 

The next day they watched the race in a cantina and Owen collected his winnings. 

Cliegg Lars was pleased for him. "What are you going to spend the money on?" 

"Me and Beru are getting married. We should have enough for a new dome and some new vaporators, dad." 

~~~

A few years later, when the Lars family was hauling in the monthly harvest to Mos Epsa, Cliegg pulled Owen and Beru aside and led them to Watto's shop. 

Owen's heart stuttered. "Dad, what are we doing here? I don't think we need any vaporator parts right now, do we?" 

"There's been something I've wanted to do for awhile. Owen, Beru, I finally have enough money to buy Shmi out." 

"What!", yelled not so little and cute Anakin Skywalker. "You're buying my mom!? Watto someone is here to buy Mom!" 

The Toydarian flitted over. "Ha, old man Lars has been your mother's pateessa for years! It's about time he did right by her!"  

"What? What do you mean? Who is this man, mom?" 

"Anakin, Cleigg Lars has been a dear friend of mine for years." 

"Why haven't I ever met him?" The boy asked sulkily.  

The adults exchanged awkward looks. Shag often made extra coins as paid companions. Some got lucky like Shmi and bought out. 

"We met when she was working for Gardulla-"  Cliegg Lars started to say. 

Owen cut him off immediately.  "A long time ago. You probably never noticed them talking because when she had time off you were working. Ask the grannies; they'll tell you that my dad has been courting your mom a long, long time."  

Anakin seemed to accept this. 

Watto shooed them out the door so that the family could go get Shmi's belongings from the slave quarter. 

As they walked along Anakin skipped along brightly asking questions about the Lars Homestead and the moisture farm. 

The more chipper and happier the boy became shouting to the other slaves about the good news the more unsettled and nervous Owen Lars felt. 

He forced a smile and clutched Beru's hand. 

When they arrived at the Skywalker's room it took only a moment for Shmi to gather up a bundle of her things. 

Only a bundle of her things. 

Anakin's smile dropped. "What about my clothes and my droid parts, mom?"

A slight breeze began to flutter the laundry hung outside the slave quarters. 

"They have to stay here with you, Ani." 

Tears began to well up in the boy's eyes. "What do you mean? Stay here? Why would I be staying here?" 

Dust and sand began to toss about as the winds picked up. People scattered for shelter. Sand storms off the Dune Sea could scour the flesh from bone. 

"Ani, remember we talked about this. I told you there'd be a day when one of us would be sold on. I told you there'd be a day when one of us would have to walk away and not look back." 

The boy started to sob uncontrollably and collapsed onto his knees weeping and screaming, "YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME!!! YOU SAID YOU'D ALWAYS LOVE ME!!" 

Outside the wind howled through town tearing apart everything and everyone that had the misfortune of being outside. 

Shmi tried to placate the child, "I do love you Anakin, more than anything, but-"

The building was shaking apart at the seems. 

"IF YOU LOVED ME, YOU WOULDN'T LEAVE! WHY ARE YOU LEAVING ME?" 

Owen Lars looked at Shmi and her son and looked outside and grabbed Beru and his father and dragged them toward the door. He liked his odds with the windstorm better. 

Just as he grabbed the latch, behind him Anakin screamed, "YOU DON'T LOVE ME!! YOU NEVER LOVED ME!! LIAR! I HATE YOU!" 

The last thing Owen Lars saw as the building exploded was Anakin's tear-filled glowing golden eyes. 

Chapter Text

Anakin Skywalker hadn't taken the news he hadn't been bought out with his Ma very well at all! 

Shmi tried to placate the child, "I do love you Anakin, more than anything, but-"

The building was shaking apart at the seems. 

"IF YOU LOVED ME, YOU WOULDN'T LEAVE! WHY ARE YOU LEAVING ME?" 

Owen Lars looked at Shmi and her son and looked outside and grabbed Beru and his father and dragged them toward the door. He liked his odds with the windstorm better. 

Just as he grabbed the latch, behind him Anakin screamed, "YOU DON'T LOVE ME!! YOU NEVER LOVED ME!! LIAR! I HATE YOU!" 

It was the last thing Owen Lars heard before the explosion killed him....yet again!

~~~~ 

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. 

This was the second time Anakin's eyes glowed gold. The boy was clearly one of those evil space wizards with gold eyes and red laser swords Crazy Ben had warned them about. 

Crazy Ben had said the boy died a hero during that Star War the Republic had...he saved a lot of lives. What did they call him? Hero without Feels?  Clearly the Jedi cured him of whatever was wrong with him. 

If handing him over to the Jeedai was what kept Shmi's boy from turning bad, then Owen needed to make sure they took him away.  

Owen sat and tried to think of that holiday so long ago where Anakin Skywalker had won the Boonta Eve Classic. What had Owen and his dad done when they'd come into town? Cliegg hadn't spoken to Shmi until after the Jedi had taken her boy off to Coruscant. 

It was a good day. Father and son rarely had time off. But they'd brought the harvest into town, got a better than usual price for their water, and decided to stay over and watch the race. 

Owen would retrace his steps. He wouldn't interfere in the boy's future. He would, however, place a few modest bets. No reason he shouldn't marry Beru a few years earlier. 

The Lars father and son spent the day in Mos Epsa taking in sights. They met up with the Darklighters, Starkillers, and Whitesuns around dinner time and had a wonderful time catching up. 

The next day Owen looked at bookie's betting board. Skywalker's name would be added at the starting gate if things followed how things worked out originally. He placed a few modest bets that had paid off in the past and strolled back to the hostel his dad and their fellow moisture farmers had chosen to bunk at. 

As they were crossing the street the Lars dodged the same red and black Zabrak on a speeder bike that ran him down before.  This time the Zabrak was joined by two yellow and black Zabraks sharing another speeder bike. 

Owen Lars dragged his father out of the way of traffic law violating Zabraks had him nearly stumbling into a group of orange cloaked identical girls that seemed familiar. 

They watched the young ladies head down the lane in the direction of Watto's shop. He wondered how they could stand the heat in those heavy velvet getups as he hurried his father in the direction away from Shmi Skywalker. 

The next morning they strolled around town looking at stalls of food and trinkets and laughed and joked. 

The whole town was euphoric with anticipation about the race. Owen Lars made sure to stroll past another bookie and see if Skywalker's name was up there. 

No?

It was a last minute addition the first time around. 

While Owen Lars was staring at the odds and wondering what he should place on Skywalker this time around, there was a commotion down the street; blaster shots and crashing noises as stalls overturned as people dove for cover! 

Jabba's enforcers were making an arrest! Bounty hunters from a cantina spilled out into the street to assist Jabba's people in suppressing the trigger happy miscreants. 

Owen and Cliegg peered out from the speeder they'd taken cover behind to see the orange cloak girls being marched away in manacles. 

"What happened?" Cliegg Lars asked one of the bounty hunters passing by. 

"They didn't have peggats so they tried to rob a shop instead of changing their money with another spacer heading for the Republic." The lanky red-haired, chalk-white Palliduvan lady told him. 

"How foolish!" murmured the Lars to each other. 

Bad luck for them too. Jabba the Hutt was in town for the race. 

Jabba would take one look at them and have them chained to his throne before you could say 'Inter-species Sexism'. 

Most Republicans knew to keep a low profile on a Hutt world even if they had enough wealth to pay the ransom to the local sheriff. 

The privileged really never thought it would be them tossed head first down the Sarlacc pit. 

They went back to the hostel and crowded into the little parlor to watch the race in comfort. 

There, at the bottom of the leader board, was Skywalker's name! 

Owen Lars quickly stood up and excused himself and went to the nearest bookie and placed a small bet on Skywalker.  

He returned to his seat just in time for the race to start.

It went pretty much the way that it did the last time; the pod racers started off from the Grand Arena onto the Starlite Flats again (the Dug rammed the Xelbree into a rock again), the racers wove through the canyons on Waldo Flats, up to the Mushroom Mesa (the Dug destroyed the Gran's pod again), off Metta Drop through the notch to Beggar's Canyon. More weaving in out between stone pillars and narrow gorges of Arch Canyon, The Whip, Jag Crag, and then down the Laguna Caves (Ratts Tyrell crashed again) and out through the Tuskan's camp (Teemto Pagalies' pod was shot again) then back the Bindy Bend, The Coil, Jett's Chute, exiting the Corkscrew via the Devil's Doorknob, the pilots emerged onto the Hutt Flats the home stretch to the Grand Arena. The Dug continued to sabotage the other pod racers all the way to the last lap when he finally wiped out. 

Anakin Skywalker won, of course, his mother and friends danced around at the finish line. 

Owen Lars sat back in relief while Cliegg Lars and the other moisture farmers all excitedly gossiped about the victory. 

He then frowned. Was that wookie-tall sleemo that took Shmi's boy with them? He then shrugged. He probably just missed him in the crowd. 

~~~~

The next day Owen collected his winnings. His bets had paid off in an unexpected way; along with the usual mixed currency there was a ship! 

It was a YT-1300 light freighter with a hyperdrive engine and full fuel cells! It could carry four crew members and six passengers and a 100 metric tons of cargo. Some smuggler lost their shirt gambling. 

"What the Loz noy jitat are you going to do with that, son?" Cleigg asked him as they surveyed Owen's prize. 

Beru Whitesun asked, "Sell it?" 

Silya Darklighter asked, "Lease it out?" 

Marstrap Starkiller joked, "Trade it for more vaporators?" 

Owen was thinking about Luke and how he'd always wanted off this corrupt dustball. 

"Leave Tatooine", Owen blurted out.

Old Ben used to say, 'Trust in the Force' or something. Well, it was telling Owen Lars this was an opportunity he shouldn't miss.

They were all shocked and Cliegg Lars almost shouted, "Leave? Where? When? HOW!? You don't even know how to pilot a ship!" 

"I don't know how to pilot a ship but Beru's uncle still has a pilot's license. We should all leave Tatooine." 

"And go where?" 

"Dad, you know how you always used to tell us that your grandparents always regretted leaving Vor Deo. Ma always wished she could go back to Ator! Let's go!" 

"Where the heck is Vor Deo?" Silya Darklighter asked. 

"A lot closer than Ator!", replied Jula, her husband. "That's a backwater near the Deep Core!" 

Beru answered, "Vor Deo is here in the Arkanis Sector on the Old Corellian Run. It's actually not too far away." 

"The Old Corellian Run? It must be a total backwater!" 

"Less of a backwater than Tatooine! It has about a million people still living on it. And it has water! Oceans!" 

"What the heck will you do on Vor Deo?" 

"Same thing we do here! Farm!" 

"Son, this is crazy."

Owen Lars lowered his voice and whispered in his ear, "Dad, it's a Republic world. Crazy is staying in Hutt Space. You buried your grandparents, parents, brother, and mom on this world....do you want to see your kids and grandkids buried here too? To see them live under the Hutts and die too young under them too?" 

Cliegg Lars sighed in resignation. "When will you be leaving?" 

"The same time you are; Beru would never leave her family behind and neither will I!" 

"Me, leave Tatooine?" 

"Yes! Come with us! The ship has life support for ten beings. There's room for you too!" 

Beru spoke up, "Please come with us!" 

"This is crazy", was all Cliegg Lars said. 

Owen brightened up. That wasn't a 'No'!  He was pretty sure that by time he and Beru were on the ship to Vor Deo that Cliegg would be on it too! 

~~~~

So the Whitesun-Lars family left Tatooine. 

Owen and Beru used the ship to connect to the interstellar relay and contact Vor Deo's government. Even though it was a backwater, the Republic had built a Judicial substation guarding it keep out pirates and slavers (there was still a smugglers market although all the spice dealing was done discreetly behind closed doors).

The only difficulty in immigrating would be getting there. It was an immigration friendly planet especially for beings that could prove their family once had legal residency. When the Vor Deo system was on a super-hyperroute it had a population of billions. Their infrastructure remained mostly intact despite dwindling down to a mere million after the New Corellian Run was built bypassing it. 

The Whitesuns and Lars decided to bring some bantha calves and massiffs with them.

Vor Deo was a terraformed world. It had no native species so importing them was legal although they needed to be quarantined for a time. 

Beru's uncle sent them off to purchase an astromech droid. With it they only needed a pilot instead of a full crew. 

As they walked around the junk yard one of them started beeping and rocking back and forth. It looked fairly new. And oddly familiar. 

Owen squatted down in front of it to get a better look at the short white and blue droid. The Jawa indicated it was new stock. Nearly new merchandise. Top of the line and barely a year old. 

"How much?" 

A protocol droid was wandering around translating for the Jawa. It reminded Owen of that annoying unit Shmi had built to help around the farmstead.

The Jawa signed one hundred peggats for the R-series. 

Outrageous! One hundred peggats for a used astromech! 

"Sorry, this is not the droid we're looking for."  

Instead Owen and Beru purchased a U5-GG instead. 

As they walked away the little white and blue astromech gave out a lot of irate beeps and whistles and the annoying protocol droid said, "Oh, dear!"  

Chapter Text

Owen Lars did not forget about the Skywalkers. He just decided that the welfare of Beru, his father, and his new in-laws would come first.

He had loved Shmi in both the lives his father married her but there was no way he could trust Anakin around the family again. Unfortunately, Shmi and Anakin were a package deal.

Anakin was still on Tatooine after winning his freedom in the Boonta Eve Classic. The fancy sleek silver space yacht the Jedi had come on was still sitting outside Mos Epsa. 

It looked like it had a pretty rough landing. The engine compartment looked scorched. There was nobody guarding it. 

His father had apperently given Shmi the funds he'd saved up to free her and apologized that he couldn't fulfill his promise. 

Owen dismissed the Skywalkers and the Jedi from his mind. The Force that Old Ben had nattered on about would handle things. It was none of his business. 

The Lars and Whitesuns left Tatooine. Only the moisture farmers out and around the Jundland Wastes noticed them leave. 

Chapter Text

Anakin decided to finally sink into the Force after Luke and Laura died so it was a nasty surprise to wake up on Tatooine just before the infamous Boonta Eve classic. 

Kark, fine. He'd do it all over again. Only better. Kark he had so many regrets. 

He was sitting on a rock waiting for Padme and Qui-gon Jinn when he spotted a shiny silver object coming in hot. 

Ah, Padme's ship! He couldn't wait to see her again! 

He was so wrapped up in his daydreams of his angel he didn't even notice the random moisture farmer stomp up behind him. The rando tossed Anakin over his shoulder and started lecturing him worse than Obi-wan did. 

His control over the Force was tenuous at this age so his efforts to snap the sleemo's neck were in vain. He did knock around some random rocks while the being lectured him about wandering away from his mom and horsing around near the boom line. 

Before he knew it he was locked up in the rotten little hole of a room in the slave quarters he and his mother used to live in. 

The slave granny told him to stay put until his mother came for him. 

Ha, Destiny waits for no being...especially if you're the Chosen One. 

Anakin climbed out the tiny, high window on the rear of their room and ran off to find Qui-Gon Jinn and Padme. 

Kriff...where the hell was Watto's shop? 

He spent the last six decades trying to forget everything about Tattooine that wasn't his mom. He karking forgot where he worked! 

While he was standing on a random street in Mos Espa trying to decide if he should go left or right, he spotted Maul zooming down the road from one end of the street....and on the other end of the street was that sleemo moisture farmer that karked everything up. 

In a flash of anger Anakin shoved and the sleemo was plastered across the front of Maul's speeder. 

What passed for law enforcement for the Hutts and some bounty hunters came out of the cantina in front of the 'accident' and arrested Maul and poked at the moisture farmer's corpse. 

Anakin turned and fled in the direction as far from them as possible...and right up to Watto's door! 

Panting, he leaned over, hands on knees and waited till his heartrate slowed. He pasted his best cheerful innocent little kid smile on his face and he made his way inside. 

"Anakin! What are you doing here? You were supposed to stay home until I got you!" 

"Mooom, it was sooo boring!"  

"Plenty of work for you if you're bored!", grumbled Watto. 

"So...uh, did anything interesting happen today?" 

Watto grunted. "Typical race day." 

"Lots of tourists?" 

"Ha! Fools wanting to buy things with no money!" 

Anakin mentally cheered. That sounded like Qui-gon Jinn! "Really?", he asked innocently. 

"The race brings in all sorts of beings from around the Galaxy, Anakin", his mother informed him. "They don't realize they need local currency." 

"Oh, someone didn't have druggats?" 

"Yes, Watto refused their Republic credits so they went to a gambling den. Gambling dens take any valid currency." 

Watto cursed and spat, "They'll get skinned on the exchange but they didn't care." 

"When are they coming back?" 

"Aren't!" 

Anakin's innocent smile got rather brittle. "What do you mean they're not coming back? Where else are they going to get a T-14 hyperdrive generator from?"  

"How did you know-?" Shmi stopped wiping the counter to stare. 

Watto gave him a gimlet glare. "Big guy ran into a friend outside the shop. They're borrowing a ship. They went to the space port." 

"Thanks!" Anakin ran out of the junkshop ignoring his mother's call. He had to catch up with Padme and Master Qui-gon! 

Things would be better now! Maul was out of the way! Qui-gon Jinn would be his master this time! 

Anakin sprinted toward the spaceport. 

There, in the distance, at the very end row of parked ships was Qui-gon Jinn getting ready to board, looking just as he remembered him.

The handmaidens...and three other Jedi? He immediately identified Mace Windu and Luminara Unduli. More Jedi? Why are there more Jedi?  It should be Qui-gon Jinn and Obi-wan Kenobi!

He squinted at the fourth Knight. He looked very familiar. 

"DOOOKUUU!?!?!?!" He shrieked in horror! 'What the kriff was that sleemo doing here?' 

Quinlan Vos poked his head out of the ship and beckoned the others aboard and said, "Hurry it up!" 

Dooku furrowed his brow. "Did you hear something?" 

All the other Jedi present chorused 'Nope!' and they boarded Quinlan's smuggling ship with Queen Amidala and the handmaidens. 

The hatch snapped shut and the engines began revving. 

Anakin continued to scream and wave his arms as he ran toward the ship. He couldn't let them leave with out him! 

The ground crew shouted warnings at him as he made his headlong dash around ships landing and taking off. 

The ship was in the air and heading into ATMO when there was a thunderous BOOM! 

Anakin had forgotten he still had a slave chip. 

Chapter Text

After his messy demise at the space port, Anakin woke yet again on a thin sleeping mat in the slave quarters of Mos Epsa. 

'Beeogola' Anakin thought to himself. 'I can't believe I squandered my second chance with Padme!' 

His mother was tidying up the shack they shared. 

Anakin thought, 'At least I got to see my mother again'. He took a moment to bask in her love. This time when he won the pod race he'd win enough money to free both of them. 

He could do this. He could do this again. But this time he'd do it better. No karkin' sleemo Settler, Hutt, Jedi Council, or anyone was going to stand in his way. He was Darth Fierfek Vader. Nobody stood in the way of his goals! He always won.

(For a moment he thought he heard the Force echo with Leia's HA!) 

~~~~

'Again! AGAIN!!! It happend again!', raged Darth Vader. 'I missed Padme's ship crash landing again!' 

He was so wrapped up in his daydreams of seeing his angel again he didn't even notice the random moisture farmer stomp up behind him again!

The rando tossed Anakin over his shoulder and at least spared him the lecture this time. He just got dumped off at Watto's junk shop with, "Ma'am, your boy was going to run across the boom line chasing some fancy silver ship" and left him with is mother and Watto and left. 

His mother gave him the scolding this time! Out of the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he saw Obi-wan Kenobi pass by on the street dressed as a shabby spacer. 

No, no that couldn't be right. Obi-wan never left the ship. It was Qui-gon Jinn who came to Mos Epsa with Ani's Angel for ship parts. 

Anakin couldn't investigate because his mother kept a firm grip on his hand as she led him back to the slave quarters. 

Once more he was locked into the shack with a granny on guard. 

Once more he escaped the shack and searched for Padme and Qui-gon Jinn among the throngs of tourists. He searched high and low all over Mos Epsa among the Ootmian who had arrived to see the Boonta Eve Classic....

...KARK!!! Ani forgot to put the finishing touches on his pod racer and enter the race! 

How was he supposed to buy himself and his mother free! It was all the fault of that chuba doompa farmer!

Speaking of which...the sleemo was just across the street excitedly talking to his hick friends about his winnings. 

Anakin narrowed his eyes as he got an idea to pay the Freeborn stupa back for ruining Anakin and Shmi's second - er, third - chance! 

Sebulba had been the favorite to win. Instead he wiped out and died like the first time around. His "sponsors" hadn't just lost a ton of money at the gambling shops, they'd lost their best cash cow pilot. 

Anakin was betting they'd be in a bad mood and looking for someone to vent their anger on. He went to their hotel and slunk into their rooms, pretending to be a cleaner, and pressed the idea that that sleemo moisture farmer sabotaged their Sebulba and cost them a fortune. 

Anakin Skywalker was cackling in merriment while Oven or Oren or whatever their name was got dragged away by the thugs for a 'little talk'. He was enjoying the poodoo Freeborn's fear and distress so much while getting dragged away he failed to notice he was being watched in turn. 

A hand fell on the back of his neck and a familiar voice said, "I think you'll do nicely". 

He blacked out instantly. 

~~~

Darth Maul hadn't been sent to Tatooine after Queen Amidala this time around. Palpatine had come himself. 

This time Anakin Skywalker wasn't a Jedi padawan, under the protection of a Jedi knight and the Jedi Order, when he met Darth Sideous. 

This time Palpatine dispensed with his Kindly Grandpa persona when introducing himself to Anakin. 

This time Anakin was a slave, property. Darth Sidious owned him. There was no reason to wear a false face to appease the Jedi Order. Ani was whisked away to a secret training facility on Mustafar where a TD-D9 droid and various other Sith lackeys trained him into becoming an expert on Teräs Käsi and Jar'Kai. 

The difference in this life as a Sith Acolyte was lightyears away from his first life as Obi-wan Kenobi's padawan. 

Previously, if there had been a topic of study required by the Council of First Knowledge that Padawan Skywalker hated, thought boring or stupid, he could weedle and whine and Obi-wan would waffle and find some alternative instead. 

There was no shirking under the Sith. Acolyte Skywalker learned what he was ordered to learn and he did it perfectly....OR ELSE. 

Grandpa Palpatine might have egged Padawan Skywalker into throwing temper tantrums to get his own way when he lived amongst the Jedi, but Dupur Sidious viciously squelched even the merest thought of disobedience in Acolyte Skywalker. 

Darth Maul somehow didn't exist in this lifetime Anakin was going to be his replacement; an expendable Sith assassin that did boots-on-the-ground missions so Darth Plagueis and Darth Sidious could remain hidden and kept their own hands clean. 

Even at the very end of his first life, when Darth Vader found out Darth Sidious had lied to him and he decided to kill the Emperor, even after all the years of torture, Anakin Skywalker still had a part of him that saw Palpatine as a mentor. As a grandfather figure. No matter how harsh Palpatine's treatment, Vader knew he was still the Emperor's golden boy. 

Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker never saw the real Darth Sidious. Not even in their final battle. Darth Sidious had treated that Darth Vader still with modicum of respect while killing him. 

Acolyte Skywalker? 

He had the great misfortune of being a meat droid under the bootheel of the real Palpatine. 

Any absurd notions that Palpatine cared for Anakin Skywalker in any lifetime he was disabused of. 

~~~~

The Naboo crisis came a decade later in this lifetime.

'Darth Plagueis' timeline of galactic conquest must have been delayed for some reason', thought Darth Mangle. And wasn't that a surprise. Palpatine's grand plan was really someone else's. 

Senator Padmé Naberrie had escaped the blockade and had returned with Jedi to liberate the planet.

As much as Darth Mangle wanted Palpatine to fail, bring the wrath of Palpatine's master down on Palpatine's head, the Acolyte formerly known as Anakin Skywalker had to make sure Nute Gunray succeeded. 

~~~~

KARK!!! WHO WAS THAT GUY WITH QUI-GON JINN!!! WHERE WAS OBI-WAN KENOBI!!! KARK EVERYTHING!!!

'Darth Mangle' mentally wailed is dismay as he battled Master Jinn and Not-Kenobi over the precarious catwalks of the Theed Generator Complex. 

Then another damn Jedi popped up to join in the deadly dance of lightsabers. 

Another damn rando that Master Jinn called, "Padawan Mine". 

Who the heck were these people?  Feenatos and Xanor something? Where the kriff was Obi-wan Kenobi!?

Feemble looked half Wookie by the size of him and Xenatas sneered in disdain worse than Count Dooku! 

Anakin knew he was re-enacting Darth Maul's role in the Naboo Crisis.

Unlike that knobhead Zabrack, Ani would not be sent down the reactor core in two pieces by the Jedi. Especially not by some knock-off, budget version Obi-wans!

bzzzzt! 

.

.

.

.

.

As Darth Mangle tumbled off the catwalk, he had a brief moment where he saw his boots, legs, well really his everything go sailing past his face. 

Qui-gon Jinn and the phony Space Temu Kenobis peered over the railing as his darkening vision. 

Unbidden a memory of Barriss Offee from his first life flickered in his fading mind, "Did you know the human brain can survive four to six seconds after being decapitated?"