"The Children of Oomoog Om"

Written and Directed by:
David Weaver.

STARRING

'Mama',   Rojic,   Jimmi,   Karnov,   Niall,   Kory,  
And introducing:
Joe-90 Hen3ry and 'Lucky.' and 'Blinkie.'
as the droids.

AND
Storm Cutter
their ship.

And introducing:
Mister Plaak Tuun, a Keldorian scout.

It was a slow day, and the sun was beating on the backs of the Storm Cutter crew. There was a bright light and the shattering of silence. The light in the fridge was wired to the radio....

“Karking Wookiee tech’croo poodoo!” Rojic’s voice carries over the quiet of the morning, insulting everything in earshot.

“Theedoo dogo theeroo, thatoo-one godo there’oo!”

The Wookiees grunt and growl right back at him.

Rojic can’t bear to watch any more. They are making slow progress, but it’s a case of eight wing-beats forward and seven wing-beats back.

“Where’s Niall?” He demands.

Kory walks along the walkways between trees. Now in a beige Tudor-style smock with lacings over a white shirt, and with hair extensions. She looks both comely and rustic.

“Niall’s off in the forest. Mistress Luce is…Er….Taking care of him.”

“I need him to negotiate with these ignorant Wookiees. Their eagerness is tempered by their lack of technical know-how.”

“Are you not hampering them with your choice of tools?”

“Nothing wrong with my hydrospanner, is there?”

Kory avoids the obvious lewd comment. “Just saying, is all…”

Karnov is deep in thought. He is poring over a display tablet upon which is a technical manual. Niall recently reminded him that he should be working on a lightsabre of his own. Karnov has been putting this task off for some time now, and is starting to panic slightly. “If I’d have known the exam was coming up, I would have started to study earlier!” He says to no-one in particular. Joe-90 offers to help. “Perhaps I could assist, sir.”

“Could you?”

“Yes sir. The tablet ‘on’ button is on the top left.”

“Thanks Joe. I don’t know what I’d do without you!”

Rojic flutters over. “Aha, ‘lightsabres for dummies’ I’ve read it. Easy-peasy!”

Karnov glowers at Rojic. Instead of rising to the bait, he asks how the ship is coming on. It is now Rojic’s turn to get cross.

Karnov suddenly gets a great idea. If he could use the force to make Rojic build the lightsabre, then he'd sort-of technically have built it himself. Rojic reminds him of something fundamental, which scotches the plan. Karnov raises a hand. Rojic responds, “The force doesn’t work on us Toydarians. Only threats of violence. -And money!”

The uneasy silence is broken by The bomb in the baby carriage A beeper in the cockpit. It deafens all the Wookiees, who clutch their ears in pain. “Aha!” Rojic yelps. “More gain, more pain!”

“Turn it off!”

“On my way…..” Rojic flutters up. The others gather to find out what the message might be. “It’s an older code…..But….”

“Cut the crap, why is it shrieking like that?”

“It’s an emergency channel.”

“Where’s it coming from?”

“From the bridge!”

They pause to think about this.

“But Storm Cutter has no bridge!”

“Well, ‘cockpit’ sounds rather prosaic. ‘Bridge’ gives it gravitas!”

“Whatever! Just get the message before I prosaic you in the posterior!”

They kill the alarm, and play the message. A grainy hologram projects into the cockpit. It is a Republic emergency signal, and a priority channel at that. The image of an Ithorian fills the cockpit bridge.

“Help Me! My name is Oomoog Om. Shmeeke is coming for my children! I have run out of places to hide!!!!! ” At this point, Oomoog On is wrenched violently away from the transmission booth by a snarling Trandoshan. The transmission ends.

Jimmi asks. “Who is she….? She’s beautiful?”

“Oh don’t give me that!”

Kory says, “Funny how extra exclamation marks give an added sense of urgency!!!!! See?”

“No. Actually it doesn’t. It’s stupid.”

Rojic and Kory work on the message. They clean up the signal a bit, but it doesn’t reveal many more details. With Hen3ry’s help, they narrow the origins of the signal down to a settlement on Trandosha.

“That’s but a few hours sub-light or a few moments away by hyperspace.” Jimmi tells them. “Trandosha and Kashyyyk are diametrically opposed around the star the Wookiees call ‘Kashyyyk.’ -Or as the Trandoshans call it, ‘Sssssssssss’un.’”

“So what are we waiting for?”

“Nothing! Let’s saddle up and render assistance!”

“Where’s Niall?”

“Out communing with that woman.” Rojic snarls.

“I’ll drive,” Karnov says. “There’s no time to waste.”

“Good.” Rojic is pleased. “I hope that we can swoop by that woman, and knock her off a tree or two. Maybe even burn down the forest in the process!”

“You really have a downer on her don’t you?”

“Too right. I’ve yet to come up with the Huttese for what I feel about her. The conniving, drugging two-brained-slap headed…..” The rest of his tirade is lost in the roar of the engines, and the even louder roars of the Wookiees as they are shaken loose from the hull, leaving welding clamps and gink droids all hanging off the outside.

Jo-90 and Jimmi work on the co-ordinates. “Set course for Trandosha, and from there to Mos’ Kakaaar.” Jimmi informs Karnov. “Wilco gold leader.” Karnov replies, settling down into the seat. “I can tell Niall’s been driving, -this seat’s in entirely the wrong position. I can’t see anything in the rear view mirror, and there are sweet wrappers all over the floor. Disgraceful!” Karnov orders Henry to clean up, and puts up an air freshener on the rear-view mirror. “Slightly better!”

The others are starting to wish that Niall was back in the pilot’s seat. Karnov powers into orbit, and looks around for options. Hen3ry Beeps unhelpfully. “Beep?”

Joe-90 translates. “My counterpart is suggesting an alternative route sir. Sublight is all very well, but it would take about twelve hours.

Karnov tries to bluff his way through. “I wasn’t going sub-light!” He turns to the Astromech. “Hen3ry, programme the nav computers. –We’re going by hyperspace!”

“Bleep?”

Joe-90 points out that within the same solar system, hyperspace travel is fraught with danger. “All sorts of odd things happen.”

Karnov echoes Niall’s favourite phrase. “Never tell me the odds!” Somehow it doesn’t sound quite so convincing.

Jimmi says, “Are we not taking the A-35 bypass route?”

Karnov is unswerving. “No. We’re jumping out of the system, and then jumping right back in. –Easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy!”

Rojic sighs, heavily. “Not this ship, sister!”

Karnov barks an order to Hen3ry. “Punch it!”

The hyper-drive spins up, and the stars elongate into narrow streaks. Then the proximity sensors go into overload and the long spiral of hyperspace becomes individual stars once again a second or two later. The ship is unceremoniously dumped back into realspace.

“No hyper-drive eh?” Asks Karnov, hoping to shift the blame onto Rojic.

“It’s the gravity well. Kashyyyk the star is too big. We’ll have to go around.”

Karnov asserts his authority. “Through I says!”

“I’d love to comply, but the ship won’t perform a manoeuvre that will end in its certain destruction.”

“Shame!”

After a moment, Karnov is on the rebound. “I’m jumping if it kills me!”

Henry gives a low “Bip….Bloooop....Bzz!”

“Find me a new route you useless hunk of junk!” Karnov urges. To spare any further blushes, Hen3ry complies. They enter hyperspace a few moments later, and after a few seconds, perform a one-hundred-and-eighty degree flip, and jump back. This time they are considerably closer to Trandosha.

“See?” Karnov asks, settling down in a slumped position, putting his feet up and flying real casual-like. “I’ve seen Niall fly like this dozens of times!”

“Now there’s a strange brown colour in the force,” Jimmi observes. “I think it’s fear!”

As they come close to the planet’s atmosphere, Karnov eases back on the throttle a touch. Rojic is shaking. “I can’t believe that Karnov has been on the course and got the licence!”

Karnov is scornful. “Niall makes it look easy!”

“Pfft! –Even Mama made it look easy!”

“That’s because it is easy!”

Jimmi interrupts. “Talking of easy, we’re coming in a little hot.”

Karnov is unconcerned. “No matter. Someone get us permission to land.”

Jimmi complies. “Done…..There that’s good. Oh yeah, that’ll do nicely…oh!”

Karnov has not only come in far too fast and steep, he’s overshot the target! He’s also nearly removed the top of the control tower in the process.

“Just a quick, impromptu fly-past. –Nothing to worry about!”

Back on Kashyyyk, Niall is in a meditative state. He clears his mind. He is at one with the force. All of a sudden he sees Storm Cutter in a vision. Seconds later, he sees a fiery orange cloud expanding form the ship, as a massive explosion bursts in all directions into space. He snaps out of the trance in an instant.

“I saw our ship. It blew up!”

“That is the future you see.” Tisha says, trying to calm him.

“But my friends! –They were in pain!” Niall leaps up, with his fists clenched.

“If you saw it, then it will happen.”

“But when?”

“Impossible to tell. Always in motion the future.”

“But I must stop it. There were frigates and vulture droids and….”

“Shhh…. Calm yourself.”

“No! I can stop it! –Damn, It makes me so angry! -If I can’t stop it then I’ll use all my Jedi powers to bring them to account. To make them pay for what they’ve done! Their wanton destruction makes my blood boil!”

Tisha puts a hand on his arm. “-And that, my friend is why you’ll never be a Jedi.”

It looks as though Niall’s vision is about to come true. Karnov is wrestling with the controls of Storm Cutter, and is but a hair’s-breadth of sending it crashing into the ground in an enormous fireball. Great plumes of smoke billow from the superheated hull and overheating engines. A banshee’s wail cuts the air from the thrusters which are trying to compensate. Several more aborted and potentially lethal landing attempts later, the ship finally slews drunkenly left, and puts down very heavily on the landing pad, skidding to a halt with a scream of stressed metal drowning out the terrified screams of the passengers, and the urgent beeping of a dozen warning circuits. The lights flicker and go out. There is a second or two when everyone aboard thinks the whole ship is about to explode like a bomb….

Jimmi peels from the ceiling of the cabin, thankful that the mattress is still attached over head-height. The ship itself is smoking-hot and the landing struts have been tested to far beyond their normal design limits.

The ramp opens, and the crew stagger down. Some even manage to make the landing apron without vomiting. They are seen kissing the ground. Others are wide-eyed and cross themselves. Jimmi emerges as white as a sheet, but has the presence of mind to clutch a toasting fork, some slices of bread, some bacon and some eggs. Jimmi proceeds to make an impromptu late brunch with the ingredients, while using the scorching hull as a grill-plate.

“Not a bad landing if I say so myself.” Karnov says, rubbing his hands, and getting some of the heat radiation on his face. “Pride cometh before a crash.” Rojic says.

“Actually, pride cometh before destruction.” Jimmi corrects him.

“Where does it say that”?

“Jedi code book. Chapter sixteen, verse eighteen! -And also it’s written in massive letters in the cockpit heads-up display.”

Karnov looks sheepish at not knowing this. “I’m a more….Hands-on Jedi than an academic Jedi.”

“After seeing you handle the ship, I think you should stick with reading books!”

A short while later, they’ve paid up their docking fees to a truculent Trandoshan, named Grskkrrskksrr. Try as they might, they can’t get the fee reduced. Not even a ‘bogof’ in sight. “We’re really hamstrung without Kory, aren’t we?”

“It doesn’t help that Rojic is being singularly unhelpful.”

“Still got a chip on his shoulder about that whole incident with the meditation back on Kashyyyk?”

“You betcha!” Rojic snarls through his teeth. He and the Trandoshan glare at each other, daring both to be the first to haggle.

Jimmi proposes getting a guide book for the outpost. “I need a guide book for this place.” They find a kiosk, and place a few credits into it. The pad is a rough guide to the settlement, along with dire warnings about unescorted trips to the outer ring of the area, which is well-stocked with big game and fearsome critters all ready to hunt.

“Welcome to Mos’ Kakaaar.” Jimmi reads, “A walled enclosure and centre for safaris for the bravest of Trandoshans and their visitors. Set in the centre of the great desert, this little oasis provides all a tourist will need for big game hunting, and also a place to rest and relax afterward. Take time to explore the magnificent architecture or chill in one of many fabulous award-winning bars. Mos’ Kakaaar is the best place in the Kashyyyk system to stock up on snake oil and luxury lizard-skin products!”

The others look at Jimmi. “What?”

“Either your eyesight is improving, or you’re using the force to read off the pad.”

Jimmi holds up a little audio inset. “No need to use the force or eyes – audio output!”

“Oh!”

“What else does it say?”

“Lots of growling and coughing….”

“That’ll be the Trandoshan version.”

Jimmi beams at Karnov. “I’ve been swatting up on my foreign languages. In a few months time I’ll be fluent in over six million languages!”

“We could get rid of Joe-90 then!”

Joe-90 looks forlorn. “Who would carry Sarah-Jane then?”

Rojic is keen to show his expertise. “Simple! I’ll rig up a set of walking legs, with a laser aiming device, and she’ll be as good as those trade federation spider droids!”

“You’re forgetting one thing sir.”

“Oh yeah?”

“You’ll have to pry the gun from my cold droid fingers first!”

Rojic is cowed, but to put a brave face on it, he hides behind Karnov. “I’ll get you when you’re in standby mode. A quick unscrew of the head should disable the higher brain functions!”

“Careful sir. I could do the same to you!”

Rojic counters. “Well I can stay up all night if necessary.”

“I’m game. My recharge usually lasts a few months.” Joe-90 says, matter-of-factly.

“Best get a guide….” Jimmi interrupts. “We’re not really the hunting types. Besides, if there’s anywhere that a scoundrel like Shmeeke would take prisoners, it’ll be right in the wilds of the hunting zone.”

“Speak for yourself sir,” Joe-90 corrects Jimmi. “I’m fully functional.”

“With a three month power pack, a fully functional body and an erasable memory it’s a wonder you’re not constantly in Kory’s cabin.”

“I’ve never been into Kory’s cabin sir.”

“See? She’s erased it from your memory!”

They head for a bar. It being a slow day, there are plenty of Trandoshans growling and hissing at one another. There is some gruesome blood-sport showing on video-screens around the bar. Mainly Trandoshans shooting things with disruptor pistols. “Horrible things!” Karnov says, careful not to be overheard.

“What the local population, or the disruptor pistol?” Joe-90 asks.

“Both. They’re barbaric and uncivilised. A lightsabre is a more elegant weapon altogether.”

“How are you getting on with making a new one?” Rojic wants to know.

“Um….” Karnov finds a ring-pull in a puddle of liquor on a table. “I’ve got the belt-ring already!”

“Wow! That’s the hardest part!”

Rojic can’t help making a jibe. “I expect that’s what Mistress Luce is telling Niall right now!”

There is only one non-Trandoshan in the bar. A Nikto barkeep is wiping slimy tables and watching the blood sport. They approach the alien, who is dressed in black, with a black helmet and making a slow, deep and resonant rasping noise as he breathes.

“Surely it’s not….!”

“Only he could be so bold!”

The alien turns around. He takes off the helmet. It’s not who they expected at all.

“One day a great Jedi will dress in black, and rise like a modern Prometheus, to bring balance to the force.” Jimmi says.

“Stop listening to that stupid guide and help!”

“Koh-toh-yah.” The stranger says, taking off a dust-hat, and lying it on the bar.

“What’s he trying to say?”

“Hello I think!”

“Er…I’m looking for a guide. Soneone to take ous out of the settlement and into the hunting grounds.”

The stranger turns to the group. His is average height, with mottled orange skin, and a mask over the lower part of his face, and thick pierced goggles. – A Kel Dor!

“Found one you have!”

Karnov and Rojic look at one another. –Jimmi of course, is oblivious.

“Excellent! Um…We’re also looking for a local scoundrel called Shmeeke.”

The Kel Dor laughs. He crosses his arms and the crew imagine a smile on his face beneath the mask. “Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time….” He points to himself. “Why Shmeeke….is…..not here.”

“Where then?”

“Shmeeke doesn’t advertise his whereabouts. Maybe you have a clue or something?”

“Not so fast!”

The Kel Dor repeats the question.

“Maybe……You….Have….A….Clue….Or….something….?”

Karnov is pleased that the conversation is going at a more sedate speed, but exercises caution.

“We don’t even know your name.”

The Kel Dor slips from the bar stool. “I’m called Plaak Tuun. Mister Tuun to you.”

Karnov gasps. “Plaak Tuun….That sounds like….” His stomach rumbles. Rojic shoots him a glance. Karnov gets the hint. He introduces the others.

“I’m Karnov, trainee Jedi, Rojic, my engineer, Jimmi my advisor, and Joe-90 is er….A ‘droid Friday.’”

Mister Tuun looks Karnov up and down. Instead of sneering, he offers a hand.

“I don’t believe I’ve met a real Jedi before.” He says, most genuinely.

-From two-hundred million miles away, the words. “I don’t believe I’ve met a real Jedi before” Drift across the table between Mistress Luce and Niall. Niall leaps up, and vocalizes what many people are thinking.

“Trust me son, you still haven’t! I was there…!”

Mistress Luce gives him the ‘I could kill you with my brains’ look, and he pipes down and apologises.

“I’m sorry, mistress.”

“Apology accepted, Niall Killian.”

Karnov feels a little uneasy, but corrects Mister Tuun. “I’m in training, still a Padawan.”

Tuun is unconcerned. He seems friendly enough even with this revelation. “I’ll do what I can to help. Now, you said you had a lead on Shmeeke?”

Karnov gets out the holoprojector. Holding it in his hand, he thumbs the replay wheel and they all stand and watch as a thin blue beam of light spreads out and starts replaying the message.

“Oh yes, oh yes! Oh my god! Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh Jimmi!”

Jimmi’s head snaps around. “Karnov! You’re playing the wrong message!”

Karnov clicks it off. Rojic looks most disappointed. “Oh I dunno, I could stand to see little more!”

Karnov selects the right message. They play it for Mister Tuun.

“Help Me! My name is Oomoog Om. Shmeeke is coming for my children! I have run out of places to hide!!!!! ” Tuun looks at it, and thinks. “I don’t know of any Ithorians, but those are almost certainly Shmeeke’s gang.”

“Thanks. Can you identify the holo-transmit booth.”

Jimmi says. “I once had a nasty turn in a booth!”

Tuun isn’t sure. “I’m not sure. Though the chances are that the gang are long gone.”

“So do you think Shmeeke has gone to a hideout in the hunting grounds?”

“Quite probably. The hunting ground is no place for novices. You’ll have to be careful.”

“I was hoping you might guide us.”

“You have an honest face, a just cause and it is a noble quest.”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“It’s a no.”

“What about for your usual fee?”

“I’m in. Come with me!”

Mister Tuun leads them across the settlement to an outfitters. “Here’s a list of all the gear you’ll need. I hope you’ve got deep pockets…..”

Rojic looks apologetic. “I’m like the king of Toydaria. I never carry money.”

“At least spend some cash on a cool box.”

“Don’t you mean cool-box?” Jimmi asks

“You and your punctuation! Okay, a cool-box.”

“Why?” Rojic asks.

“Because we’ll need something to carry your recently deceased body back in.”

Rojic gets the point. He’s still sore at the others pulling him off Tisha Luce a few hours ago, and so won’t negotiate the price down on their behalf. He manages to haggle with the storekeeper over the price of his own hunting licence. – He manages to get exactly nothing off the price. –It’s only just a bit more nothing than the others make.

A girl helps them load up with stuff. She is an ‘indentured worker.’ “It sounds better than slave.” She says. The crew make a big pile of equipment, supplies, weapons and ammunition. The girl adds up the cost. –It comes in at a few credits short of fifteen-thousand.

“We could buy passage between Tatooine and Alderaan on a smugglers ship for that kind of money!”

“Well we can do that for a holiday one year. – When the children have grown up – or even the grandchildren. There’s plenty of time!”

They look at the mega pile of gear. They look at their meagre pile of money. There is a rather large disconnect between what they want and what they can afford. In the end they are resigned to putting the things back that aren’t essential. – Soon the pile is much reduced, and their capital is dwindled to almost nothing. The gear amounts to little more than tents, food, water and ammunition. –And a cool box for Rojic, that doubles as a cool-box.

“Time to saddle up!” Mister Tuun tells them. “Time’s a-wasting, and it’ll be dark in a couple of hours.” The crew realises that they’ve spent several hours gathering equipment. “Good thing that time isn’t pressing!”

They are filling the skiff that Tuun has brought along, when Karnov spots an entry in the licence register. He strains to see it more closely, but the manager is covering the entry with his hand. As luck would have it, Jimmi and the girl are getting friendly, and decide to try out the one-man tent to see if it will hold one woman and Jimmi. There are slobbering and ‘kissy-kissy’ noises for a moment. This is enough to distract the manager, and Karnov prompts Jimmi to continue telepathically. Jimmi obliges, and Karnov sneaks a look at the register. Sure enough only a few hours ago, Shmeeke and some of his gang have bought supplies and licences, and apparently headed out into the hunting zone. Karnov gives a signal to Jimmi, forgetting that Jimmi can’t see anything. Jimmi can’t speak at this point either, having a tongue down the girl’s throat. After they’ve discussed the ethics of disruptor guns, and the possibility of using Jimmi’s back as target practice, the girl gives Jimmi a final kiss, and slips something into a pocket.

A few minutes later they are loaded up and with dust masks and goggles in place, are speeding over the dunes and into the hunting zone. “How are we doing?” Tuun yells over the roaring wind and the drone of the repulsor engine.

“I think I swallowed a bug!” Rojic growls.

Jimmi reacts. “Eeew! Borderline cannibalism!”

Tuun slows. “If I know Shmeeke, he’ll head for a place out in the north west, called Gorgon’s crack. It’s a few hours trek, but we should….”

“Hold on a minute, did you say ‘Gorgon’s Crack?’”

“Yes. It’s a place that….”

“Gorgon’s crack?”

“Yes, but I don’t see….”

Rojic and Karnov are sniggering like naughty schoolboys.

“That sounds very rude!”

“Not in my language. Did I translate it wrong?”

“No. You are correct sir. The place is indeed Gorgon’s Crack.”

The others fall about laughing, rocking the skiff with their mirth. After about five minutes, they are gasping for breath.

They circle some Womp rats. The rats are in a small group, gnawing on some carrion. They look up as the skiff approaches. Tuun stops the speeder a short way off and starts shooting. Karnov follows, but the others are not so sure. Jimmi fires a warning shot. The others consider a better response to the age old gag about warning shots. A rat leaps at Karnov, who has ignited the lightsabre, and fends it off. Rojic heads for the sky, hoping that these critters can’t jump too high. Karnov fends off another two, managing to kill both in the process. Another leaps for Jimmi, but then turns its attention to Tuun. It starts chewing away at a leg. Jimmi shoots it. It goes for another gnaw at Tuun, who gets a second nasty bite for his recklessness. Jimmi shoots the womp rat again to make sure.

Tuun leaps for the skiff, and sweeps around to pick up Karnov, who can see death and destruction all around as the other Womp rats start getting a bit excited by the carnage. Karnov deftly leaps aboard. Tuun backs off a small way, hastily cuts off a trophy and leaps back as the rats close on their position. A mile away, and in relative safety he ritually smears blood on the combatants. “As an initiation!”

“Good thing we didn’t find something a bit more unsavoury.”

“What, like Nerf spit?”

“That’s actually what I was imagining! Nerf spit, yuck! -If only skunk would smell as sweet!”

Another hour or so, and the light is beginning to fade. They spy a herd of Nerf.

“Here’s your chance to try your hand as a Nerf herder.”

“I’m sure that woman said ‘nerve hurter.’ But she fluffed the line a bit. Then some wag coined the word ‘Nerf’ and a whole new insult was born.”

“What woman? When was this? Why wasn’t I informed?”

“The princess. At the battle of Hoth.” Karnov tells them. “Haven’t you been keeping up?”

“No.”

Jimmi remembers something about Hoth. “The planet Hoth. Imports: None. Exports: None. Most abundant natural resource: Snow. The planet Hoth is devoid of intelligent life.”

“I’m sure Karnov would fit right in nicely.”

Karnov sticks out his tongue. “I’m sure I would!”

Tuun shushes them. “Shhhhh!” They turn and see that he is peering through the scope of a long sniping rifle. “Easy now big fella….” The rifle coughs once and the Nerf in the pack scatter –All but one that is…. Who has had its head microwaved to ashes, leaving a carcass and a set of horns as trophies. “Now quick before a whole load of predators come and make a meal of our supper!”

The others gather up the carcass of the Nerf. They are careful to avoid the foul-smelling spittle of the animal. Some time later and after some cutting with the vibro-sword, Tuun has carved some nice Nerf steaks to put on the grill.

“I could have done that in a fraction of the time with a lightsabre.” Karnov points out, “Cleaner cut, and rare as they come. –Lovely.”

Jimmi asks Tuun how far it is from the place they are going.

“Not far. A few hours more ride. Shmeeke has a mobile skiff thing out there.”

Karnov is speculating about the ecology. “Surely with all these diverse creatures in the hunting zone, there is a natural tendency for the carnivores to devour all the omnivores and so on down the food chain. – But at the bottom there’s nothing. Only sand. Just desert. -Nothing to live off.”

“Presumably there are breeders and suppliers who stock the hunting grounds every so often.”

“I suppose so.” Karnov isn’t convinced.

“But we’re not here for the hunting anyway.”

“I’m having my doubts as to the ethics of it myself.”

They finish off their steaks, and make camp. They circle the wagon, and pitch their tents. Rojic sets Joe-90 to watch and then finds somewhere to hide and sleep.

Some time later in the middle of the night Tuun wakes up. He is convinced that there is something out in the inky blackness. Joe-90 has not yet sounded the alarm. – Maybe something out there is not hostile. Just to make sure, Tuun grabs some night vision glasses and scans the area. The whatever-it-is goes to ground and cannot be seen. Tuun briefly looks with his own eyes. –Still nothing. His eyes start to water, and he replaces his goggles. Not wanting to get his party killed and eaten, he kicks at Karnov, who takes a moment to awaken from a very nice dream.

“What?”

“There’s something out there!”

“So?”

“So Quarren have superior night vision. So get looking into the night and tell me what it is!”

Karnov peers into the gloom. He’s not sure whether there is something out there or not. He wakes up Rojic and Jimmi. Using the force as ‘eyes’ Jimmi doesn’t need light or dark to ‘see.’ It’s a bit like three hundred and sixty-degree vision, though certain things don’t show up very well.

After a moment, Jimmi reports that there is a large humanoid sneaking up on the camp. This spurs Rojic into action. He zips at full speed into the cool box that is also a cool-box and pulls down on the lid.

“Someone get me a nice heavy stone….” Joe-90 says. Deftly he picks up the cool-box and starts walking with it.

“Where are you taking that, Joe?”

“Somewhere where it can be used as bait, sir….”

There are muffled curses and oaths coming from the inside of the box.

Jimmi picks something from the rations and tosses it to Joe-90, who deftly catches it. “Here! Put this in the box.”

The muffled shouting dies down as Rojic realises he’s trapped inside the box. Joe-90 swiftly opens the lid a crack and slides the object in. He then sits on the box as the shouting redoubles its efforts.

“What was that?” Karnov asks.

“Cucumber.” Jimmi tells him, matter-of-factly.

Karnov thinks for a while. Finally, he says. “Only a shame it wasn’t a pineapple!”

Karnov spots the creature in the dunes. He takes aim with a blaster and shoots. Tuun follows suit. Jimmi is aware of the creature, and with a very lucky shot, takes it out in a final shot between the thing’s eyes. There is a moment when everything is quiet…. Then they decide that there is nothing else out there and go over to confirm their kill. Lying at the base of the dunes is a large humanoid. Karnov identifies it as a Mantellian Savrip.

“Eeew! I’ve only ever seen this thing on a Dejarik board.”

“Best place. Boy are they ugly!”

“Any more about?”

They look around. They send Joe-90 on a patrol. They find nothing.

“Best get some rest until morning. There’ll be a lot to do getting prepared for Shmeeke and his gang.

“And there’s something else. Something really important....”

“Can’t think of it.”

“Never mind. -It’ll come to you.”

Tuun busies himself taking the head of the Savrip and mounting it on the front of the skiff. The rear of the Nerf is mounted on the back. Some claws from the Womp rats are on the sides. It looks like a H.R. Giger nightmare.

They sleep soundly in their beds until the horrors that lurk ceaselessly behind the lying Rojic awaken. The unhallowed blasphemies from far-away stars are roused by a nightmare earthquake that shakes them from their slumbers and raises their monstrous heads into the sun and air.

Jimmi stops snoring. “We forgot to release Rojic!”

A titter goes around the camp.

“Time to head off up Gorgon’s Crack.” Tunn says.

The camp is surrounded in fresh gales of laughter.

Karnov says, “I still don’t get it!”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

NEXT THRILLING EPISODE: 'Up Edna's End' to Starvation Gorge, along 'Willy's bluff,' over the 'Grassy Knoll' along the U-bend to 'Gorgon's Crack,' a.k.a. 'Part two....'

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Footnotes:

   Opening lines with apologies to Paul Simon.
   Jimmi knows a song about Oomoog Om's brother (or an Inuit muskox): Oomingmak