A/N: Hey guys! Here is the second chapter of Chosen One Reincarnation! In this chapter, and in several more going forward, I will be including a depiction of Tatooine Slave culture that is in a lot of fanfics. It was originally introduced in the Double Agent Vader series by Fialleril on Ao3, and has since been used in many other works. If you want to learn about the Tatooine slave culture, please check out that series, it is one of my favorite Star Wars fanfics, I HIGHLY recommend it! Now that due credit has been given, let's get into replies! (I don't own Star Wars)

Blaze1992

He of course wants to change the fate of the Galaxy (don't fall to the dark side, save/change the Jedi, kill Palpatine, ect) whether he will succeed at these things will remain to be seen. I will promise that whatever happens, I will do my best to make it entertaining and different. (I find canon rehash fics super boring)

cameron1812

Thank you! I appreciate the feedback! :D

Uvuvwevwevwe Onyetenyevwe Ugwe

Ah yes. The Anton Ego of fanfiction himself. You left a similar review on my other story, TDoL. While I always love constructive criticism and questions about the chapters I have actually written, I'd like to remind you that at the time of your review I had only posted a prologue, and thus hadn't even started the story proper. As such, your very specific complaints about my story (that I haven't written yet) have been noted, and completely disregarded. It has never, in any stage of my planning, been my intention to write a script copy/canon rehash fic. I said as much in the A/N at the end of the prologue. With how deadly serious you seem to take your quest to find what you consider to be the perfect fanfiction, I was genuinely shocked to find that you haven't actually written any. You seem to know exactly what you want, and that is half the battle with creative pursuits. Rest assured that the fic I will write will be the exact fic I intended to, no more, no less, and my last words to you are as follows: Nobody likes a backseat driver ;)

Death Fury

Thanks!

POV: the new Anakin

(Amatakkan language translations will be provided.)

I flinched, suddenly jolting into consciousness. There was a tightness in my chest, like I'd held my breath for way to long, and I desperately sucked in air, and quickly devolved into a series of hacking coughs as I inhaled some dust.

Ugggh. I fucking hate sand!

Wait.

Holy shit!

I'm Anakin! But I'm also Rick? I remember being both! Who the hell am I?

How is it I can remember every part of a moisture vaporator and how they go together, but I also like dragonball and can name all the characters?!

Hold on! This isn't the time to be distracted! I just crashed! I crashed hard!

Joy bloomed in my heart as I passed yet another racer. The racing pod roaring beneath me like a living being, rock formations blurring by faster than most humans could comprehend. It was the last lap, and smiled at my fuel gage, which was still nearly half full. My plan to use skillful maneuvering and perfect lines to stay with the pack while conserving fuel was a success!

Feeling like I'd already won, I opened up the afterburners full tilt, the meager inertial dampeners stressed to their limit as I was pressed into my seat, using all my strength to keep my arms on the controls! I blurred past the other racers, all trying to go as fast as their fuel would allow, and cackled like a madman as I passed them one by one!

My happiness was short lived as suddenly, one of the engines began screeching horribly with the strain I was putting on it. I shoved down my anger at the subpar craftsmanship, and quickly compensated for the failing turbine, which reduced my speed. I could hear the racers I'd just passed roaring up behind me, and I cursed as the second engine wobbled unsteadily under the unbalanced load. With the pod basically falling apart around me, I was distracted enough that I didn't notice another pod veering toward me! I got nocked hard by the other racer and my left engine cable snapped! I spun out, desperately maneuvering the controls on instinct alone as the scenery spiralled around me. I managed to avoid certain explosive death by causing a controlled crash, and came skidding to a stop in a sandy basin between two large rock formations. As the pod was grinding to a stop, the rusty clip on my safety harness failed and sent me sailing through the air.

I saw the ground rushing toward me, I threw my hands up in front of my face reflexively, and then…

I blinked a few times at the memories of meeting Rob from two different people.

Looking down at myself, my clothes were completely shredded, and there was a concerning amount of blood that had soaked into the sand around me, but I had no visible wounds. I didn't feel dizzy or tired or anything, and my pulse seemed normal. My helmet felt weird on my head, and when I removed it I found it had a large crack in it, and was covered in sticky half-dried blood.

Yikes. I grimaced, and from how I felt the skin pull, I realized my face was probably covered in blood too. Feeling around my head, I didn't seem to have any wounds, but my hair was gummy and sticky as well, and my hands came away red.

I realized mister Rob had said I was almost dead, but seeing it for myself was a different thing entirely.

Looking back over at the pod, I could see that while quite banged up, it was still salvageable. Or at least, the passenger pod and the right engine were. I had no idea what had happened to the left engine, as it had flown God knows where when the connecter cable broke. A pungent smell filled the air from the burning fuel, and I felt irritated that so much hadn't been used. All that effort to stay with the pack under low speed, all the risky shortcuts and near lethal maneuvers I executed just to break even, it all would have been worth it if the pod had done it's fucking job and reach the speeds it was allegedly fucking built for.

I shouldn't have taken the salesman and Watto's words for gospel. I hadn't been allowed to modify the pod, hadn't been able to open the engines up check them or anything. At the end of the day, I lost, and was almost killed, not by lack of skill, not by biological limitations, but by shit craftsmanship. Plain and simple.

Suddenly I realized that Amu (Mom) had probably seen the crash on the holoviewer, and if my clothes were any indication, my rescue transmitter was probably destroyed! She probably thought I was dead! I rushed back over to the passenger pod, which was on its side. After kicking sand on a small fire to put it out, I carefully climbed up to the seat and opened the compartment under it. It was a bit awkward, since the chair was basically sideways, but I managed to get it open and access the wiring of the pod tracker.

The pod tracker was usually used to make sure the racers hit all the route markers, and to help the camera drones follow the race. I was going to rewire it, and use it to summon help. Hooking up the tracker to the engine start up switch was child's play, literally in my case. After I was done, I flicked the start switch on and of at regular intervals. I would have tried using a code of some kind, but the old Anakin didn't know any kind of tap code, and the old Rick had briefly learned Morse code in Boy Scouts and promptly forgot it about a month later. So I settled for a steady rhythm, one that a malfunction wouldn't cause.

The sideways passenger pod thankfully provided some shade, and since there wasn't much more I could do right now, I sat down and waited.

As I waited for rescue, my wrist starting to get sore from flipping, I realized something interesting. When I first woke up, I was in a dangerous situation, full of unknowns and urgency. Basically, I was in 'go mode', and during that time, I primarily thought of myself as Anakin. But now that I was more passive, I predominantly felt like Rick Miller. The more I sank into My memories as Rick, the more I realized just how amazing having physical senses again was! All that time I had spent as a spirit had been in total sensory deprivation, and now that I had a physical body again, it felt like it was all dialed up to eleven!

I ran my off hand down my face, gently scraping with my fingernails, and luxuriated in the sheer sensation of it!

It honestly reminded me of the time I had broken my leg as a teenager, and had to wear a cast for three months. I couldn't touch the skin or scratch the itches under the cast for all that time, and when I finally got it off, all I did was scratch and rub and massage, the sensation so intense it was both painful and pleasurable at the same time. Right now, I felt like that, but all over my body. it wasn't completely overwhelming, but it was great to be alive again!

While I was doing this, my eyes were drawn to a piece of twisted metal that was once a part of one of the engines. Lightly tapping it to make sure it wasn't hot, and finding it surprisingly cool, I picked it up. In an interesting turn of events, the sand and grit from the crash had completely stripped the paint off of it, leaving its surface shiny. It wasn't very scratched at all, which led me to believe it was Inoxium. I groaned. Inoxium is a relatively cheap, stainless metal that is hyper-resistant to wear and abrasion. This made it extremely popular as a plating component in the joints of droids, but it wasn't typically used in high performance vehicles because it wasn't all that strong, and tended to buckle and warp under high stress.

The person who built this pod must have used it for the engine components so it could run for much longer without maintenance. I'm sure they thought they were very clever for doing so, but as a consequence, the pod couldn't handle the the forces exerted on it by going full speed, and was destroyed by the stress.

As I turned the piece of metal over in my hands, I realized that I could see my reflection in it. My face and hair were covered in dry blood, and my fingernails had scraped tracks of uncovered skin down my face, which sorta made the blood look like war paint. I stared at my face. It was Anakin's face, so it was familiar, but at the same time, I felt weird about looking at it as my face. Like there was some kind of disconnect.

Taking a break from switch flipping to roll my tired wrist and shoulder, I passed the 'mirror' between hands, shifted around, and kept flipping the switch on and off with my non tired arm.

Looking at my face again, the strangeness intensified. "Who… Who am I?" I whispered, the reflection furrowing it's brow at the same time I did. I felt like I was Anakin, but I felt just as much like I was Rick! And at the same time I felt a tiny bit like… I was neither of them. I remembered the scene from Dragon Ball Z where Piccolo and Kami fused, and his reaction was that he was neither Kami nor Piccolo, but a Namekian that had forgotten his own name. I remembered Goku's reaction to meeting him, and how Piccolo cringed at being called 'Kamiccolo sama'. I chucked at the memory.

"I am neither Anakin Skywalker nor Rick Miller alone. I am a new being." I looked at my reflection once more. "But because of my appearance, I'll take the name Anakin Skywalker for convenience sake. All that he was, is still in me." At this declaration, I felt a lot better, like a pressure was removed. I knew I would probably keep having questions of identity. That I would have secrets I would most likely never tell anyone about. But right now, I felt like this was enough. I felt… at peace.

(A/N: OST The Force theme)

I tucked the Inoxium scrap mirror into a space between my back and the passenger pod wall, and looked out at the twin sunsets.

I was in Star Wars. I was in fucking Star Wars. I breathed deeply, and felt the energy of the universe flowing gently through me. The old Anakin had never noticed it, sort of like how you don't hear your own heartbeat, but after living a whole lifetime as Rick without the force, it was as plain as day to me. I closed my eyes in concentration, immersing myself in it, and felt the warmth of the twin suns. The dust around me started floating an inch or so off the ground as if caught in a gentle breeze. It was so much greater than me, and yet it responded to my desires, my focus. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever felt, and I was only an untrained novice. I couldn't even do anything with it yet.

What would it feel like to be a fully trained Jedi? To be truly powerful?

To be free?

(End OST)

My— Rick's life, had had freedom. When someone told him to do something, he could say no. If he didn't like his Boss, he could quit. If he didn't like where he was, he could leave and go somewhere else. If someone tried to threaten his life, there were legal actions he could take to protect himself.

I looked down at my body. I didn't even own myself right now. I had a master, and if I stepped one toe out of line, there was an explosive device implanted somewhere in me that could instantly kill me at the touch of a button.

Before, the old Anakin had more or less accepted that as part of life, but now that I knew what independence was? What it felt like?

I yearned for it. I needed it so desperately I felt like I'd do anything to make it so! To control my own destiny… I needed to start planning.

This race was the annual Boonta Eve Classic, and I was currently 7 years old. That meant I had exactly two years before the events of the Phantom Menace.

In the movie, Qui-Gon Jinn wasn't able to free Shmi Skywalker, and Canon Anakin had left her in slavery to go off and join the Jedi. My jaw clenched in rage at the thought. I'm sure he believed he had no other choice, but it still sickened me. Somehow, someway, I needed to gather enough money to buy Amu (Mom) from Watto by the time the Jedi came. If everything went well, I would be freed by the bet between Qui-Gon and Watto, and then Qui-Gon could buy Amu and immediately free her.

A simple, but effective plan. However, there were several things standing in the way of its success.

Number one: Slaves can't technically own money. Any money we do have is legally Watto's money, so if he ever finds out I have anywhere near the amount necessary to buy my mother, he would simply demand that I give it to him, and I would have to do it or be killed. No freedom.

Number two: I hadn't built the pod racer yet. In the movie, Canon Anakin wins because he builds a fully functioning racer. Watto always bets on Sebulba, so he would probably lose money if I actually won. The only reason he has me race at all is so he can get clout among the Huts as an official sponsor for a pod racer, and rake in shit tons of customers. The pod today was evidence enough that he wouldn't ever actually provide me with the means of winning, which means I would have to build a racer of the same caliber as the one from the movie, while again keeping it secret from Watto. For all I knew, Canon Anakin had devoted nearly all of his free time to building the racer, and I would have to split my time between Building and secretly making money.

Number Three: Fucking Tatooine. Watto didn't actually walk the slave quarters all that often, so I could easily pass off working on the pod as just tinkering with spare parts. I could theoretically do it all while still 'staying in my lane' so to speak. Making money secretly would be way more dangerous. If I stole the money, people would make every effort to track me down and kill me, and if I made it honestly, people would want what I earned and also try to kill me. I would have to get a disguise of some kind, and find a secure hideout where I could stash the money. I would have to do all of this while not being discovered by by Watto, the Huts, or any of the people I did business with, I would have to do it while also working in the droid shop every day to keep Watto happy and unsuspicious, while ALSO working on the pod so I could actually win my freedom when the time came, and ALL THIS without ever getting fucking robbed and ending up facedown bleeding out in a gutter somewhere, or getting snatched and sold into double slavery, or getting eaten by wildlife, or…

Hey… it was getting kinda dark out here!

I listened nervously for signs of any wildlife or looters. Come to think of it, don't the Tusken raiders often hang out around pod races? I shook my head. While the sand people made sport out of trying to shoot the moving racers with their slug thrower rifles, they rarely had interest in scavenging the pod racer parts.

As I the suns dropped further below the horizon, I heard the faint rumble of an engine! Sighing in relief, I flipped the switch back and forth with increased speed, and in response, I heard a honk of a horn from a speeder. Smiling, I flicked the switch one more time to the 'on' position, and walked out from under the pod. Upon seeing the speeder, my heart sank as I realized it was Watto. I quickly berated myself and put on a happy face however, as there were at least a thousand other people that would have been way worse.

I waved my arms above my head and shouted, and was answered by another honk, much closer this time. Watto was driving a bulky speeder truck, which had a flatbed hover trailer hooked up with some power loader droids on it. The repulsorlift engines thrummed as he braked to a stop. Once the speeder truck was parked, Watto opened the door, fluttering out on his small toydarian wings.

"Eeeeeeeh Ani! Good to see you in-eh one piece! That-eh was quite the crrrash, you cut it pretty close-eh this time ehehehe!" He snapped his blue fingers, and the large PL droids activated, driving towards the wreckage on tank like tracks.

Immediately, I began to defend myself. While Watto was a total asshole sometimes, and could and would use the threat of the explosive transmitter if things got serious, he was thankfully not at the same level of psychotic mustache twirling evil that some of the Huts were. He mostly let me speak freely, and trusted my word when it came to matters of my expertise.

I picked up the shard of the engine I'd been using as a mirror. "Look at this!" I nearly shouted, by brow furrowed, "this is a piece of the main wall of the engine! It got dragged so hard that the paint came off, but it's still shining like a mirror! It's Inoxium!"

At this, Watto's eyes widened a fraction. Still airborne, he fluttered closer and took the piece from me, running his hands over its surface. "Yeeeeeaahh, that's Inoxium alrright! eh-What kind of morrron uses droid pllating to build a pod engine eeeeeehhh?"

Happy he was on my side, I continued, emboldened. "You saw how good my lines were! How much fuel I saved! I had nearly half a tank left a third into the final lap! All I needed was to gun it and not crash, and I would have been in the top 5 at -least-! Instead, my pod blows up, and I almost die!" Watto got a shrewd look on his trunked face, and his eyes grew distant. "I eh-paid allot for that-eh pod… and I almost-eh llost a rare slave and a high pllacement in the rrrace, should be enough for a total eh-rrefund ehehehe…"

Watto would often speak as if I wasn't there when I was right in front of him. He always got pissed when I 'interrupted' him, so I held my tongue till his eyes focused back on me. "Next time," I said, "could I check over the pod before the race to make sure it's good? I don't want something like this to happen again."

Watto narrowed his eyes at me, and for a second, I was afraid he was angry at me, but then he nodded, "eh-sure. Wouldn't be good for you to get-eh too banged up eeeeehheheheh."

I shook my head, "no it wouldn't." I answered

Suddenly the loader droids beeped, and a quick look saw that they were done loading the wreckage. Without another word, Watto flapped up into the cab and shut the door. Knowing the drill from old Anakin's memories, I got up onto the flatbed and held on tight to one of the straps the droids had fastened the wreckage with. I slapped the back of the cab to let him know I was secure, and the speeder truck lurched forward, quickly gaining speed.

While it made sense that a hovering vehicle wouldn't bump with the terrain, I couldn't help but marvel at the perfectly smooth ride as we sped over the rocky ground. Settling in for the ride, tried to use my sleeve to scrub off as much of the dried blood as possible. Once I felt like I'd got clean enough, I looked out at the moons-lit dunes, and saw a herd of bantha being led by some sand people in the distance.

Sand people… I had mixed feelings. They hadn't done anything to anyone I cared about just yet, but as long as Amu (Mom) was on the planet, they were a clear and present danger. But at the same time, they represented Canon Anakin's first foray into the dark side. His first blood rage. His first mindless slaughter. Being within seeing distance of them made me anxious, angry, and even a little guilty all at once. That wasn't my Amu that was killed. It wasn't me that would slaughter them. It would be different this time.

I squeezed my hand through my hair, and managed to get some still liquid blood on my fingers.

Blood

I spat in my hand, the clear fluid mixing with the red.

Water

Amu had told me the slave stories of Amavikka people. Of Leiyah the Dragon, the unfettered, and Lukkah the storm, the destroyer who makes new. I knew most of the Amatakkan words for the oath, and the words I didn't know I spoke in galactic basic.

"My name is Anakin Ekkreth. My Mother, Shmi Ekkreth, will not die to the sand people. I will not fall to the Dark Side of the Force. in two years time, when the Jedi arrive, both my mother and I will be free. This I swear on blood and water. We WILL be FREE."

I scooted over to the edge of the flatbed, and squeezed the mixture through my fingers, letting the drips fall to the moonlit sand that was rushing by.

I probably hadn't gotten the words exactly right, and dripping the blood and water off the side of a speeder truck may not have been 'proper', but this was a slave oath. Pomp and ceremony have never been a requirement for Ar-Amu's (mother of mothers) help.

I felt a faint rushing of power through me. Similar to the Force I'd felt earlier, but not quite the same. It was warmer, like a fire in my soul. As quick as it had come, it vanished, so suddenly and completely I wondered if I had imagined it.

I looked up at the moons, and echoed my words from earlier under my breath, in galactic basic this time.

"We will be free."

A/N: Aaaaaaannd that's a wrap! Thank you so much for your reviews!

Watto was surprisingly difficult and interesting to portray. He is a slave owning asshole, and I needed to properly display that, but he also is basically just a law abiding citizen as far as Tatooine goes. It's a bizarre balance to hit, and I find myself unconsciously leaning towards either absolute evil, which is boring to write and to read, or towards making him reasonable and fatherly, which is unacceptable for a character that owns slaves. He's not by any means a positive role model of any kind, but he's also not a condensed ball of satanic evil distilled into mortal form. He's just…. Watto. He's an obstacle. He sucks. It's honestly kind of fun to write!

Fanfic Recommendation:

Double Agent Vader

( Ao3 series by Fialleril )