Notice (Aug 8/2015): I'm going on a short hiatus for a few weeks, as I'm currently in the middle of moving. I was hoping to put up one more chapter before the hiatus, but I unfortunately was unable to finish chapter eight before it began interfering with my writing. Hopefully, I'll be able to post again in about two weeks, though I might be on a bi-weekly update schedule when I return because I'll be returning to school after being out for a few years in September.

Chapter 7: Up

Anakin was not having a good day. It started off looking like it was going to be pretty wizard, but then crashed and burned when he learned he'd be forever stuck having a slave chip in his spine. And then, through a cruel twist of fate, he got shoved down a garbage chute and ended up below the city's surface, driving a stolen vehicle.

With an angry Sullustan standing on his hood and holding a blaster, Anakin was pretty sure that it couldn't get any worse.

"Get out of my karking speeder, wakamancha peedunky." The Sullustan waved his blaster angrily.

The words were probably supposed to be intimidating, but as far as Anakin was concerned, the horrible accent he had in his Huttese lessened the effect. Despite that, though, Anakin wasn't stupid enough to mouth off to a guy with a loaded blaster who was pointing it at his head. He let go of the steering and held his hands to the air.

"Give me one good reason not to shoot ya for stealin' my racer."

Anakin nervously shrugged. "I just found it; I didn't know it belonged to anyone. I thought it was just scrap." That was close enough to the truth— he wasn't going to sell the two people in the garbage pit out to such a bloodthirsty man waving a blaster around when they'd clearly been terrified of him.

The Sullustan stepped forward and yanked Anakin out of his seat by his arm. He leaned his face in close— his breath smelled of alcohol— and said, "Ya better tell me where I can find my pilots, then."

"Look," said Anakin, "there wasn't anyone near it. It was just in an alley— I was lost, and still am, actually, so I can't even really tell you which one."

He tried to look apologetic, but judging by the Sullustan's angry and mocking response, he hadn't succeeded. "Who's gonna race for me, then, you?"

That caught Anakin's attention immediately. A race! Perhaps his luck had begun to turn around. After such a day as he'd had, there was nothing that would make him feel better more than a good race.

He still had lots of time before Obi-Wan woke up to find him missing; at that point a little extra detour couldn't hurt, so he said, "I could." He loved racing more than almost anything, and he could work it to his advantage, too. "For a small… price." He tried to imitate the greedy grin that he so often saw on Watto's face when Watto wanted something.

The Sullustan laughed. "Good one, punk. Now get out of my racer and stop karking with me." He tossed Anakin away. When Anakin's shoulder collided hard against the hood of the speeder, the entire speeder shook in the air. He desperately clawed at the metal to keep from falling down the bottomless pit that was the roadways.

As the Sullustan climbed into the driver's seat, Anakin crawled across the hood back towards the cockpit. "I don't see you getting any better offers," Anakin countered, keeping his voice steady and strong. "I've raced pods before— racing speeders has gotta be easy compared to that." He hoisted himself over the windshield and into the passenger's seat.

"Podracin', eh?" asked the Sullustan. "Heard that's illegal all across the Republic."

Anakin raised his eyebrow. "I don't think you're really someone who cares all that much about the laws of the Galactic Republic."

The Sullustan began laughing heartily. "Ya got that right, then, I s'pose." After a short second, he continued, "Alright then, seein' as I got no better offer, what's that price of yars?"

With a shrug, Anakin said, "I'm trying to get up to the surface, actually. Think you could help?"

"The surface?" The Sullustan laughed even harder, but when Anakin only stared seriously at him, he stopped. "Ya're serious? The surface?"

Anakin nodded. "I don't care how you do it— pay the transport fee or whatever, or get me a speeder to take myself up or something— but that's where I'm going."

Eyes narrowed, the Sullustan said, "Ya're some surface kid, then, aren't ya? Thought ya talked like one. Haven't quite got that accent mastered ta blend yarself in. Let me give ya a little hint: yar voice is soundin' a little more like Outer Rim than Lower Coruscant and yar words are just like surface folk."

The corners of Anakin's mouth twisted upwards— the Sullustan had no idea.

"Got a little lost down here? Does mommy know where ya've gone?"

"That's none of your business," said Anakin.

"Nah," said the Sullustan. "See, if ya're gonna be racin' my speeder, ya can't be soft. This is street racin'. Ya gotta be tough ta survive— and tough not ta get caught and arrested. Notta mention tough ta win."

Anakin crossed his arms. "Do we have a deal?" he asked.

The Sullustan rolled his eyes. "I've already paid my part of the pot— if I didn't already have money ridin' on this, ya'd be gone. Better— ya'd have a blaster bolt in yar head."

Anakin grinned. Yeah, his luck had turned around.

Throwing the speeder into reverse, the Sullustan easily shook off his own grappling hook, and then began driving.

"What about that other speeder?"

The Sullustan scoffed. "It's just stolen junk." As they began rushing through traffic, he said, "Name's Jav. Jav Jiak."

"I'm Anakin."

"Well, then, Anakin. How'd ya get down here?"

Anakin shrugged. "Just an accident."

"Some accident."

"I don't wanna talk about it."

Jav glanced to him. "Ya know, ya're talkin' way too upper levels, peedunky. Ya'll get the druk beat out of ya if ya don't stop."

Anakin threw his feet up onto the dashboard and leaned back in his seat. He cleared his throat and then, experimentally laying on his accent heavier than ever before and letting a few words of Huttese slip in, he said, "Eniki, eniki. Mi found this thing abandoned inna alley an mi thought it was scrap."

Jav raised his jowl in a disapproving expression, looking away from the road to give Anakin a quick glare. "Too much, kid. And way too Outer Rim."

"Well," said Anakin, "Outer Rim is the only accent I know how to do. You're the one who started this all off with Huttese. Take it or leave it."

Jav sighed. "Whatever." He reached into his clothing to pull out a small bottle— when he unscrewed it, Anakin got a whiff of strong alcoholic smell. "Just don't make a fool of me."

They weaved through the traffic and then dived down, descending through five layers of roadways before leveling out and continuing on, and then descending ten more layers gradually after that. Anakin's map would be useless, and that barely bothered him at all. It didn't matter, because he was going to get the chance to race again.

Everywhere he looked, it was a slum. He saw houses that looked more run-down than any slave quarters he'd seen, and stores that looked more dangerous than ones owned by Hutts. If Anakin thought the garbage pits he'd originally landed in had looked gross and dangerous, it was nothing on the few presumably active ones they passed along their way. He could tell where they were there entirely by smell. The lower they went, the less speeders they saw, until it seemed that the entire population was getting around by foot on the pedestrian walkways lining the streets.

As they moved, a few loose metal parts banged around at Anakin's feet. He could guess what quite a few were probably for with a quick glance, but others were a complete mystery. A roll of repair tape tumbled around amongst the parts, but nothing else that could be used for actually installing them. If the entire speeder was held together by repair tape, that wouldn't surprise Anakin in the least.

It was much darker, where they landed. Half the streetlights were burned out and the nearby signs flickered and sparked dangerously. Most of the light didn't come from the environment, but rather, from small lights carried by the pedestrians. All around the ramshackle parking platform that Jav had parked on, they loitered. A rainbow of species in rag-like clothing surrounded other rickety speeders with dirty pilots, and quite a few rugged, armed men stood around like they had authority. Jav hopped out of the speeder, muttering quietly to Anakin, "Stay here." Before he walked away, he looked over Anakin critically, and then reached into the backseat of the speeder and pulled out a dirty, Sullustan-sized shirt. "And put that on. Ya look like a fool walkin' around shirtless."

Anakin threw the shirt over his head— it was a bit too large for him, but not too much, and it smelled of sweat and engine grease— and turned his attention back to his surroundings. Jav was walking across the parking platform: quite a few people moved out of his way when they spotted him.

The crowd radiated excitement, but the pilots were shining beacons of fear mixed with anger and determination. The thing that worried Anakin, though, was what the armed men felt like— well, it wasn't an unfamiliar feeling to Anakin, but it wasn't one he revelled in encountering again. Their coldness sent a shiver down Anakin's spine, and their greed made him sick to his stomach.

Jav approached the closest one.

"Looks like ya made it in time, Jiak," the man exclaimed, clapping Jav on the back. "But where're yar pilots?"

Jav shrugged casually. "I got a replacement. Who's takin' the bets tonight?"

The man gestured towards a blue Twi'lek male with a large shoulder bag at his feet. Without another word, Jav approached the Twi'lek. Anakin didn't hear a word that was spoken between them, but after a heated discussion, Jav handed over a chunk of credits and then returned to Anakin.

"What was that?" Anakin asked, trying to sound casual.

Jav shrugged. "Well, I was makin' some insurance. I bet against ya, so I can get some money my way whether ya win or not. Ya know, like that thing about eggs and baskets?"

Anakin blinked. "Right." That didn't scare him at all. "So, uh, what's the course?"

"It changes every week!" Jav exclaimed, waving his hands in the air enthusiastically. "They send out the map ta all the speeders just a second before the race begins." Jav blinked. "Speakin' of that…" He climbed into the speeder and tapped on the cracked glass of the dead dashboard screen. It remained blank. Turning back to Anakin, he asked, "Ya wouldn't happen to know a thing or two about fixin' speeders, would ya?"

Anakin shrugged. "I've never seen this model, but I could try."

Jav grinned. "Great. Perfect. Fix that screen, or ya'll be outta luck."

Pulling the cover off the dash, Anakin began fiddling with the wires. It wasn't going to be a good repair job, but he shifted them around until the screen lit up, and then, using a piece of repair tape, he secured it in place. "There." He stuck the dash cover back on and tapped the screen. It flickered, but continued to display its default image. Anakin smiled proudly.

"Good on ya, peedunky."

"So," said Anakin. "You were telling me about how the race works?"

"Right," said Jav. "Ya'll line up, get that, and then they'll tell ya to go. We'll be waitin' here, watching yar progress on our holos— those're hooked up to your dash, so we see everything the whole way. First one to get through two laps without dyin' or gettin' caught wins. I paid into the pool for ya, so I get most of it, and then ya get yar cut of the winnin's too. Ya can use it ta pay the fare of a transport to the surface and any officials that try ta send ya back because you look like," he gestured to Anakin's entire body, "that."

Right, right— he needed a way back to the surface. He couldn't just race and not worry about that: he'd get taken advantage of. "Alright," said Anakin, "but you have to drive me to where I can catch a transport, then. Whether I win or not."

Jav stared at him for a long moment before giving in. "Fine, fine. I'll do that." With a cruel twinkle in his eyes and his presence, he added, "That is, assumin' ya reach the finish ta see me again at all."

"I'll finish," said Anakin. "You worry about the rest."

The blue Twi'lek yelling, "Racers, take your positions," interrupted their conversation. Jav jumped back out of the speeder, and Anakin shuffled into the driver's seat and started the engine. He followed the other speeders to the street— there were nine others in total— and they lined up across its width in two rows. The cracked screen on his dashboard suddenly displayed an unfamiliar map, with a route highlighted. Two laps around that route— that couldn't be too difficult. It couldn't be any worse than podracing.

Another Twi'lek was standing just at the side of the road— a woman, scantily dressed in black and reminding Anakin all too much of a slave dancer— and holding up a sign with the word "wait" displayed on it.

"Three!" she shouted, the sign changing to display the numbers she spoke. "Two!" She stepped a bit farther away from the line of speeders. "One!" A large, but almost fake grin, spread across her face. "Go!" And the racers took off, Anakin with them.

Though Anakin reacted instantly, he still found himself immediately at the back of the group. The other racers pulled forward just a bit more quickly and all moved neck-in-neck across the roadway, leaving Anakin no room to push past them. He followed just a few meters behind, the steering shaking beneath his fingers at such a high speed.

Though his podracer had been practically in pieces when he reached the finish line that one time he'd actually finished, the shaking steering worried Anakin more than any mid-flight issues he'd ever had before. He'd known his podracer inside-out, but, this speeder, he didn't know at all. Something, somewhere, had to be loose, but he couldn't know whether it was just some minor part or actually a vital part that was causing the problem. Anakin really didn't want the rickety speeder to fall apart in the middle of a race, and he didn't trust it not to.

He loosened his grip on the wheel, just to temporarily relieve the vibrations in his bones, and watched the road in front of him. He hadn't expected the other racers to give him room in the ten seconds his attention had been on his speeder rather than the race, but it would've made things so much easier. Every bit of him wished he'd actually bothered to pay attention to Jav's driving when he knew that he didn't know how to make the speeder go up or down. If he had, then he'd be able to just go over or under the pack and push into front right then and there. But seriously, why didn't it just have gyroscopic steering?

He glanced at the dash screen— they were approaching the first turn. At ninety degrees, it looked like Anakin would have to decelerate to take it, because he didn't have the room to maneuver it at a high speed without crashing. That was the thing about the Coruscant roadways, both below and above the surface— there was no such thing as a turn that wasn't surrounded by skyscrapers to crash into if one took it too wide.

None of the line of speeders in front of him slowed like he did. They sped on just a bit longer before their speeders screeched around the intersection at angles that Anakin didn't think such vehicles could even make. As he meandered around it— compared to them, at least— he realized that no way was his podracing experience going to help him where he was.

He sped up.

The good thing about the turn was that it broke up the line of racers. A few were battling it out at the front of the pack— the driver in second place had positioned himself directly underneath the leader, and another speeder was trying to push past from above.

Anakin grinned to himself— a broken pack was the thing he needed. He took a breath and pushed the car even harder, gripping the shaking wheel tightly and weaving around the speeders at the tail end of the group to take a position just within the pack.

Anakin took another deep breath and began pushing even farther along—

He was boxed in.

When did that happen? It wasn't like that a second ago. A speeder had settled on Anakin's right and another on his left as well as one up front, all keeping pace with him precisely. Anakin couldn't quite curb the rush of panic that came with that realization. The driver in the speeder in front turned around just long enough to make an obscene gesture before pushing farther ahead, and in the corner of Anakin's eye he noticed the second-place racer standing in his cockpit, shoving something into the leader's engines from below.

The speeder on Anakin's right nudged just a bit closer, as did the one on his left. At once, they both crashed against him, jolting the vehicle midair, and throwing Anakin's head against the wheel. He was pretty sure his light reading had indicated that there were supposed to be safety measures against that, but those safety measures also made it impossible to continue driving after a collision, so of course illegal underground street racers would have that removed from their speeders. How could Anakin have possibly thought otherwise?

He threw his head back, ignoring the pounding feeling of having just slammed it against something, and took a careful breath. He was a pilot— he was an experienced racer.

And he usually trusted his instinct, but that would be absolutely no use in an unfamiliar vehicle on an unfamiliar track with an unfamiliar ruleset.

The leader spun out, engine smoking, and crashed down against another parking platform, and was that sirens that Anakin heard in the distance?

The other pilots immediately moved away from Anakin and pulled far ahead. Glancing at his dash to see another turn coming up, Anakin prepared to take it as widely as the streets would let him.

Checking his mirrors, he was surprised to find that the two speeders he'd been ahead of had disappeared. He was pretty sure they couldn't have passed him in the road-hogging chaos that was a bunch of speeders boxing him in, so where had they gone?

The speeders ahead of him had disappeared, too, which was even stranger. He was so sure they were just there and that the turn wasn't for another— wait, no, there it was. Anakin pulled the wheel and felt it strain against the movement. The speeder swooped over the walkway lining the street— the few pedestrians screamed as they dived to the ground— and scraped against the solid metal of a building. Anakin clenched his teeth and gripped so tightly that his knuckles whitened, and pulled with all his might.

The speeder, too slowly for Anakin's taste, moved away from the building, off the sidewalk, and back into the road.

He let out a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding and pushed the pedal against the floor. The three vehicles that had been boxing him in were just ahead of him, casually competing with each other. He could get past them before they even realized that they hadn't lost him.

He pushed even harder and felt the entire speeder shudder. That couldn't be good, but Anakin didn't get the chance for his thoughts to linger on that, because he was swerving around the other three speeders and pulling ahead, and they weren't taking that so well. He could feel the pilots' frustration in the Force as they accelerated even faster to catch back up to him.

Anakin could swear that siren sound was getting closer, but he couldn't exactly figure out what it was. As far as feelings in the Force went, the sound seemed to have the other pilots tense, but— oh stars, the next turn was already upon him. Anakin reacted just a second before he saw what he needed to react to, and he drifted around the corner so easily and naturally— just like he was racing a pod.

Instinct— it wasn't instinct, was it? It was the Force.

And the Force didn't depend on previous knowledge or experience of the Jedi— it was premonition.

Another turn— Anakin rushed through it, pushing the brake at just the right moment and turning at just the right second to stay in the roadways the entire time and not lose his place. He glanced in the mirror again, and only two of his previous rivals remained on his tail, and they were much farther away than he would have expected.

He was approaching the last turn of the first lap, and just in the distance, he could see the next racer ahead of him. Assuming that he wasn't passed without realizing it at some point, he would be in fourth place, which meant he had only three more speeders to overtake to get first.

He accelerated, feeling the speeder rock beneath him.

He really didn't trust it. He tried to feel the machine with the Force to figure out what was wrong, but the disconnected mess of information that came back to him couldn't be made sense of on the track. His attention was still just as much on the streets as the speeder itself, and he wasn't familiar enough with the speeder to figure out what he needed to do to fix it with only half of his attention and on the go.

"Go, go, go," Anakin mumbled as he continued to accelerate.

The siren sound in the background hadn't gone away.

"C'mon!"

The speeder ahead of him hit the turn, and they made it look so natural and easy.

Anakin spun the wheel, pumped the breaks, and then slammed the accelerator. As he breezed past the starting point into the second lap, he let out a loud, excited yell.

Past the next speeder— through the next turn— seriously, what were those siren sounds?

His vehicle shuddered once more and the display screen went dead. "That's not good." He slammed his fist against the dash, and the screen flickered before returning to its dead state.

Anakin was racing blind. He looked back to the road and tried to spot either the next racer or the next turn in the distance, but didn't see either. That was bad. That was very bad.

He glanced back over his shoulders and then let out another swear. On his tail was a navy-blue speeder with flashing lights, being driven by a droid; he was willing to bet that was some sort of traffic law enforcement. At least he'd figured out where the siren was coming from.

He accelerated once more. In the distance, he spotted the next turn. A wicked grin spreading across his face, he accelerated once more. He knew exactly how he was going to lose them. He hit the turn at an incredible speed and clenched his teeth as he pulled around it— the pursuing speeder had to slow to take it, and Anakin took that short moment when he was out of the droid's sight to pull into the first alley and park. He killed the lights and waited.

The police speeder sped right past.

Anakin took a deep breath, in and out. That was an entirely new addition to racing. He'd never exactly been part of a legitimate and safe race, but had also never been actively pursued by any law enforcement about it. Getting arrested was definitely at the bottom of Anakin's list of things to do on the way back to the Temple— and considering that risk, racing had just been moved from its spot at the top.

He couldn't bail, though. Well, he could— and he could even take the speeder with him, because he was sure he could be far away before Jav could catch up with him— but winning, and therefore having money, would make his return to the surface so much easier.

A racer blew by his alley, and he started his engine again. Anakin Skywalker never just surrendered a race. He would finish, risks aside, and he would win.

He pulled back out and let himself be consumed by the feelings in the Force, just like if he was podracing. He passed one speeder— turn— getting passed and then passing again— turn— turn— and before he knew it he was in the final stretch, with two speeders ahead of him and the police speeder nowhere in sight. He couldn't even hear the sirens in the distance. Anakin slammed on the acceleration and pulled as close as he could.

The other speeders were neck-in-neck, both hogging the roadway at the same level of elevation and trying to push in front of each other. Anakin couldn't fit in between them if he tried. He could see the finish, and it was approaching at an incredible rate. The time he had to get in front could be measured in seconds, not even minutes. Anakin needed to get in front of those speeders.

But that wasn't going to make Anakin Skywalker give up. He had won the Bonta Eve Classic— a little street race was nothing compared to that.

With that determined thought, he knew exactly how he was going to get past them. He let out a breath and reached into the Force, looking for direction, and then he pulled one of the levers to his right, as if he'd known all along what it would do.

The speeder shot upwards and he slammed the acceleration, passing the other speeders from above, and then pushed the lever back into place to settle in front of them.

For one glorious moment, Anakin was winning.

The finish was only seconds away, and one of the other speeders slammed into him to push itself ahead, and then they were on the other side of the line. Anakin slammed onto the break.

The driver of the speeder ahead— a Dug, of all things— threw his legs into the air in celebration and let out a loud screeching sound of triumph.

Anakin pulled the speeder back onto the parking platform. He hadn't won. After all that— after setting himself farther back from the Temple. He wasn't good at anything. When he stopped, Jav hurried over to him while the crowd mobbed the Dug. Probably to give him a well-deserved hit and—

Jav's hand flew into the air— Anakin flinched— and then it came to a rest almost comradely on his shoulder. He squeezed lightly, almost like Obi-Wan sometimes did, and then pulled it away. "Wow, kid— I'm actually impressed. Second place. Ya did better than I could've expected."

What?

Climbing out of the driver's seat— when he stood on stable ground, his legs felt like jelly and he had to keep holding onto the speeder for a minute to keep himself from losing balance— Anakin tried to grin. "I told you that I can race."

"Yeah, yeah, yar a great pilot— blah blah— I wanna talk ta ya about racin' for me on a more permanent basis." Jav rested his hand on Anakin's shoulder once more and pulled him close. "I think we really got somethin' here, kid. If this is ya when ya've never raced a speeder in the streets before, I can't wait to see what ya race like with a little more experience."

Anakin shuffled uncomfortably on his feet and slipped out of Jav's grip. "I really have to go back home—"

"There's a race every week. Ya can go home. Then ya can come back." A greedy grin spread across Jav's face and he flared eagerness and confidence. "Me and ya— we could make a great team in these things. If we start winning, we can even upgrade the racer and win even more— make some money on these things for once!"

"That's nice and all, Jav, but I really have to—"

A group of armed men were approaching them. Anakin shut his mouth and watched them carefully, not letting his attention stray from their presence in the Force. They didn't feel particularly bloodthirsty at that moment, but Anakin wanted to be ready to react immediately in the event that changed.

Anakin moved a bit closer to Jav. He didn't exactly feel friendly and nice, either, but at least Anakin knew that Jav was attempting to invest in him and so wouldn't likely fill him full of blaster bolts, at least for a few more minutes. He trusted Jav about as much as he had trusted Watto, but at least that was more than he trusted random thugs off the streets.

"Congratulations, Jiak," one of the men said. He stepped forward and handed Jav a small sack that jingled when it moved. "I dare say that's the best ya've ever done. Second place— that's worth a small cut of the pot."

Jav glanced inside the sack and showed off his yellow teeth in a grin. "Well, boys, I got myself a new pilot." He gestured towards Anakin. "Things'll be changing around here with him around."

One of the other men snorted. "Beginners luck," he said under his breath.

Anakin wanted to argue, but knew better than that. He held his tongue.

The first man continued, "We'll see about that, but for now, enjoy yar winnings." He waved his hand dismissively. "See ya next week."

Jav waved, almost politely, and then turned back to Anakin. "Ya gonna let them get away with that attitude, or are ya coming back to prove them wrong next week?"

Anakin scratched the back of his neck. "Look, I'll think about it, okay. But I didn't mean to come down here and I don't even know if I could find my way back again if I tried." Not to mention that if Obi-Wan realized where Anakin had gone, chances were, he'd be locked up in the Temple for the rest of forever.

Jav's wrinkled his jowls with distaste. "Is that the best ya can give?" he said, crossing his arms and glaring.

"Yeah," said Anakin, "it is." He glanced at the chronometer on Jav's wrist— it read 0231. "It's about time I start heading back, you know. I believe you promised me a ride?"

Jav scowled. "Ya not even gonna stay for the party? There'll be some drinkin' and—"

Drinking? Anakin? What kind of people had he gotten himself involved with? He was almost tempted to agree, because there was no way he'd be getting another chance to drink alcohol before he was at least a teenager, but he remembered the horrible feeling the morning he had to go to work after Kitster had stolen some and the pair of them had drunk all of it. "No," he said. "I'm fine."

"Yeah, yeah," Jav mumbled. "Whatever. Course, surface folk don't know how to have a proper good time." He climbed into the driver's seat of the speeder and gestured for Anakin to join him. "I wanna be back here quickly, myself, so get the kark in."

Anakin once more climbed into the passenger's seat and strapped himself in. Jav took off quickly and pushed through and around traffic as they weaved through the streets.

"You know," said Anakin, "you're not such a bad driver yourself." Especially after drinking the amount of alcohol that Anakin suspected that, judging by his smell, he'd had.

Jav glanced at him, his eyes guarded. "So?"

"Why don't you race your own speeder?"

He snorted. "Ya kiddin' me, right?" When Anakin didn't flinch or falter, Jav said, "I don't wanna die or get myself arrested, ya know?"

"So it's completely fine to let other people risk that for your profit?" Honestly, the man was growing more and more distasteful every minute that Anakin kept his company.

"Man's gotta eat somehow," said Jav. "And I'm payin' ya for it." Jav didn't even seem to realize how horrible he was. At least most of the goons on Tatooine knew they were scum. They understood what they were doing was wrong and they did it anyways, but Jav spoke like it was perfectly okay to be willing to risk someone else's life in a job that he wasn't willing to do himself. Taking one hand off the steering wheel, Jav reached into the bag and pulled out ten credit chips. He handed them to Anakin. "There ya go. A whole third. Pretty generous, ain't it?"

A third? Given, Anakin really had no idea how much one of the chips was worth: they were, to him, a completely new currency and in an unfamiliar economy. But still, a third of the pay for doing all the hard work wasn't something Anakin thought sounded right.

Jav still had his guns within reach and was grinning like he was proud of himself, so Anakin held himself back from arguing. He could just take the money and then head to the surface. He'd never have to deal with Jav again— he almost wished that he never let himself get involved with the man in the first place, but at least it was over. Race or not, the people Anakin had met were as horrible as the average criminal on Tatooine. He didn't know why he hadn't expected that.

Racing had felt pretty stellar, though— he had no regrets about that. He'd missed that sensation immensely. The wind in his hair, a piece of heavy machinery at his command, and the Force screaming helpful instructions in his ear— and he could just let everything go and be taken away by the experience. He didn't have to worry about being a disappointing Jedi. He didn't have to worry about not being able to let his problems into the Force. He didn't worry about what Obi-Wan would think, and he didn't think about the chip—

He scratched at the back of his neck

—the chip that could still explode him from the inside out. The chip that was stuck inside him forever because of what he'd been born into. The chip that would never let him forget where he'd come from. That he was different from the rest of the Jedi. That he would never be like them and that he didn't properly or fully own himself like a person born free owned themselves.

"Don't tell me that yar parents give you a greater allowance than a hundred credits, surface boy," Jav broke the silence with a disgusted scoff.

Anakin shrugged. "I don't really deal with currency directly much." Any longer, that was— though, never Republic Credits. Watto let him deal with finances pretty often; Anakin's mother had been brilliant at dealing with money and had been teaching Anakin how to do so since he was very young. He remembered being very young, sitting in front of Watto's business ledger, his mother quietly telling him that if Anakin didn't have a load of marketable skills, he'd one day find himself being marketed for other things. When he was a kid, he hadn't understood that.

"Oh," said Jav. "Yar one of those surface kids. Ya just have to ask for what ya want and mommy and daddy will buy it for you without ever havin' to think about the costs for yarself."

Anakin didn't contradict him.

"Well, don't ya want some credits that could be just yars? Ta buy stuff without asking yar parents for? For things they wouldn't exactly approve of? I'm givin' ya a way ta get that."

Anakin crossed his arms. "I said I'd think about it, okay? You're not going to get anything better than that. Not at the moment, at least."

Jav pulled over the speeder.

"I said—"

"I know what ya said. We're just at the transport station."

"Oh," said Anakin. "That's… that's great." He threw the speeder door open and unbuckled himself. Climbing out, he added, "Thanks for that ride, then."

Jav nodded. "I'm thinkin' of it as an investment, kid. One that I hope'll pay off for me." He reached into his jacket and produced the map that Anakin had been given earlier by Jav's pilots in the garbage pits. Jav's eyes flickered from the map to Anakin knowingly, but there was no threat behind it. Anakin hadn't even noticed when Jav had gotten a hold of it— he hadn't even noticed that the map was gone. Jav pulled out a pen and scribbled across the back. Handing the paper back to Anakin, he said, "This is my comm number."

Anakin raised an eyebrow.

"The next race will be next week, today. If I'll be sponsorin' a pilot for my racer, I'll need to add my money to the pool the day before the race. Give me a shout by then if you wanna come back and do it again, okay?"

Anakin snatched the paper and shoved it into his pants pocket, trying not to look too much like he planned to throw it away at the first possible chance. Checking his pockets for his credits as he walked away— just in case— Anakin proceeded towards the thing he suspected was the loading docks for the transports. It had the words Loading Docks scrawled across the sign in bright letters, so it was a pretty good possibility.

There was a ticket booth right beside the door. Anakin approached it. "I'm looking to go to the surface…"

"That'll be twenty credits, kid," said the woman in the ticket booth.

Anakin pulled out a few chips and carefully picked out two to hand to her. He waited for her to say anything about needing more, but she didn't. Instead, she simply tapped a few things on her screen and waved him through the door.

The transport to the surface went simple enough. He watched through his window as they ascended through a large, round pipe. Above, Anakin could see the Coruscant sky, characterized not by stars or by darkness but by light followed by emptiness. The scuzzy feeling of greed and desperation that was so much like being on Tatooine faded away and was replaced by that feeling of content crowds of people. Anakin relaxed into his seat and didn't move.

Once he and the other passengers unloaded from the transport, he had to walk through a security checkpoint. He slipped the one eyeing him up a handful of credits. The guard raised an eyebrow, and when Anakin regretfully slipped him more, they let him past. He let out a sigh; he hadn't even seen the fares for surface transports, and he was already down almost half his earnings. At least, if all else failed, he had heard the Jedi Temple was visible for miles. He could find it on his own if he had to.

He found the proper terminal for travel around the planet. After that it was easy enough to find one that dropped off nearest the Jedi Temple, and Anakin paid only ten credits in fare to get there.

He ducked around Temple guards, and hurried inside. The air was losing its crisp nighttime feel; in its place, a damp feeling of dawn had begun to settle. It was still dark, though he could tell morning was just on the horizon. He raced through the main halls, hoping with all his heart that no Jedi were awake and wandering to find him by chance, and quite easily navigated the route from the front door to the Accommodation Sector.

From there, he reached out with the Force purposefully to feel for Obi-Wan. He was close enough that he could pinpoint exactly where he was, and followed that feeling all the way back to their apartments. He wished he'd thought of that before he had gone too far away to do it in the first place.

He slipped into his room and flopped down on his bed, breathing deeply.

He could deal with his wounds and with his state of dress in a few hours when his day began. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, hunger aside.

Notes (July 25/2015):
Huge thanks to my lovely beta, BeautyOnFyre. You're a wonderful help with both catching my flubs and bouncing ideas off. Any remaining mistakes are my own.

"Wakamancha peedunky": "Cowardly punk".

"Druk": An unidentified-ly alien word that's been used as an equivalent for "shit" according to my internet searches.

"Eniki, eniki. Mi found this thing abandoned inna alley an mi thought it was scrap": "Okay, okay…". Fun fact, this is a shout-out to an earlier version of this scene where Anakin tries way too hard to impress Jav with an exaggerated accent. This is an actual, serious line from the first version of the scene… and let's just say that it didn't really work. In the final cut, Jav commented on Anakin's real, natural "accent"— he thinks that the one Anakin does have is a bad imitation meant to make him sound tough— but it's Anakin's POV so it's not like he'd notice his own accent himself.

Jav Jiak: And finally we come across a role in the story that I can't really fill with an existing character. Jav Jiak is an OC, and his name comes from both me and my lovely beta studying Sullustan naming patterns until we could make up something that fits into the Star Wars universe and can be easily remembered. My original fiction always has a character named "Jack", so I'm both proud and disappointed in myself that I mutilated that name to use it here.

A thought about the Garbage Pits from the last chapter: When Anakin came out down there, I seriously considered that the thing that would make the most sense for Anakin to get involved with would be "pit racing", which is a type of racing in garbage pits that Anakin apparently got involved with in the EU/Legends. Unfortunately, I'm not brave enough to write a form of racing that actually exists without actually reading its source material, so Anakin ends up involved in street racing instead.

"Next week, today": Coruscant weeks are five days, according to Wookiepedia. Just to give you a better understanding of how time's passing.

This chapter as well as chapter six was entirely made up of Anakin making stupid and thoughtless decisions in the aftermath of an all-day long— off-screen— angst-fest in his bedroom about his slave chip. Next time, Anakin's back in the Temple and having to actually face his shit rather than avoid it. I've missed Obi-Wan's POV immensely: I hope you're as excited to see him back as I am. Also, a huge thanks to all my reviewers: you guys are the very best and it's always encouraging to hear your thoughts!