"In the Desert:


A Bantha is Approaching."


Part II

Written and Directed by:
Paul Burton.
Fiction by: Paul Burton and (mostly) Anthony Hummerston.
STARRING:

Karnov,   Jimmi,   Niall,   Rojic,   Mama
And special guest stars:
Hen3ry , Joe-9T, Trio and 'Blinkie.'
as the droids.

AND
Storm Cutter
The best ship in docking bay Dorn-19.
AND Special Guest Star, Ta'alan. As himself.

The junk dealer chatters excitedly, rubbing his hands as he does so.

“It would appear,” Joe-9T says, translating from the original Toydarian, “That our contact is pleased with your performance.”

Rojic has been listening intently. “That’s not entirely true, Joe. Tell them what he really said.”

“I wouldn’t want to repeat that expletive-laden filth with ladies present.” Joe-9T says, “I want to wait until there are children here too!”

Rojic nudges Joe-9T. “He also said that the ‘Storm fleet’ was headed to Ryloth.”

“What I want to know,” Karnov asks, “is why he hasn’t got someone here? A Pod-racing pilot on a retainer.”

Rojic asks the Toydarian in his own language. “He says he had a hot-shot pilot, but he lost him.”

“Try looking behind the sofa,” Mama advises, “that’s where most lost things end up.”

“Thanks. You’re full of useless advice today.” Niall berates her, though without any malice. He’s glad to have survived the ordeal, though he’s still a little tense.

“I sense that you are tense.” Jimmi says and realising that it rhymes, says it again in a sing-song way. “I could offer you a professional massage….”

Niall declines. “A bath and a cup of tea and a little time to myself.” The others snigger. “To meditate!” Niall snaps at them.

Mama muses, “Actually I’m feeling a little tense.”

Jimmi is quick to respond. “Sorry, no discounts for pensioners!”

Karnov taps at a datapad. “You know Niall, that you could be the first human to ever win a pod race.”

Niall is about to say, “I was there….I’m pretty sure I’m not.” but decides against it. Instead he starts congratulating the team. Rojic has disappeared to collect his winnings, Mama has followed to ensure that her share isn’t lost in the process. Jimmi starts to gather up some of their bits and pieces and gives Hen3ry instructions to return to Storm Cutter. In the force, Jimmi senses a disturbance. In real life, Karnov senses it too. This time with one of the regular senses. Her eyes pick up a cloud of dust approaching quickly. A beaten-up speeder is on fast intercept. A teenage girl jumps out and starts harassing the crowds. By this time most of the crowd is leaving and the girl is getting more and more desperate. Jimmi senses her agitation and goes over to comfort her.

“Excuse me miss. Is there anything that I can do for you?”

“My family is under attack form Sandpeople! I need help and fast!”

Jimmi immediately offers to help and offers for everyone else too. There being nothing pressing at the moment other than arguing over Rojic’s winnings and the gambling tax, Jimmi soon has their attention. The girl pleads for their help. “My family are holed-up at our farm. It isn’t far from here. We are besieged by Sandpeople!”

“Helping is our kind of business.” Niall says kindly. “Is this your speeder?” The girl confirms that it is.

“Okay everyone, hop aboard.” Niall says, though his tone suggests a command. In a few seconds all argument is abandoned and the team all speed off. It is rather cramped, since the craft is designed for four humanoids, but at a pinch, everyone manages to perch somewhere. Rojic drives. Niall rides on one running board, Karnov on the other. At the same time they consider lighting their lightsabres and putting ‘Duel of the Fates’ on the stereo, but ultimately decide against it. Mama and Jimmi try to calm the girl. “What’s your name, miss?”

“Marcia Gillard.”

“I’m Jimmi. This are Niall and Karnov….They’re local law enforcement. And this is Mama.”

“Who’s the Toydarian?”

“No-one important.”

As Jimmi does the introductions. Rojic floors the accelerator. The speed creeps to over one hundred and fifty. Within a few minutes they arrive at the farm. There is the sound of gunfire from slug-thrower weapons mixed with the distinctive cries of Sandpeople raiders. There being no time for plans, the two Jedi run full pelt over the sand, with lightsabres lit. The others follow at a fly, a run and a trot. Jimmi has weighed up the situation and in one smooth motion, draws a blaster. Firing from the hip yields one kill. Mama wounds one, who turns its attention to her. As it rushes forward, Rojic’s hold-out blaster coughs once to echo the creature’s cry and it falls to the ground dead. Niall and Karnov follow up with swift attacks and fell three more between them, with lightsabers flashing.

Marcia directs them to the dugout farm. In a pit around fifty yards diameter, her family are holding off the remaining raiders with crude weapons. The Sandpeople have taken cover behind some machinery, while two others are working on a crude crate. They haul the crate to the point in the roof of the structure where the family are directly below. Jimmi senses danger and shouts a warning. Their fears are confirmed when one of the Sandpeople opens a panel and fiddles with some switches. Niall and Karnov are too far away to deal with the threat. Jimmi stops dead and concentrates. The crate rises slowly, Jimmi’s strength in the force wavers. The crate starts to sink. Jimmi opens up to the force and it flows freely. With a triumphant wave of a hand, Jimmi flings the crate into the desert. A few seconds later there is a loud explosion, which kicks up a great spout of sand. Rojic wounds another Sandperson, Mama leaps down, shooting quickly and killing two more. Jimmi snaps off a shot, but misses. The last sandperson shoots at Niall, but his cool striding forward with lightsabre is enough to scare it into missing. It grasps a gaffi stick on one hand and raises the blaster again. In a half cartwheel, Niall evades both shot and blow and neatly slices his enemy in two. The fight is suddenly over. Marcia runs to her family who are barricaded in one of the storerooms. They are injured and scared but okay.

Mama and Jimmi administer first-aid. There are three men. A father and two teenage sons. The man’s wife and a scullery maid along with Marcia bringing the number up to six. Karnov and Niall scout around but there are no more raiders. When they return, they gently ask what has brought about this situation. At first the old man refuses to say anything. Then, as the tension settles down, the two teenage boys, Luke and Sirus admit something. “We had a run-in with the Sandpeople the other day, out on the ridge. They were prowling about and we sent a few shots their way. They looked like they were going to fight, but turned tail.”

“Have there been many attacks?”

“A few recently. Some caravans got raided. Some of the locals hired a scout to keep an eye out. I expect he’s bagged a few by now.”

“Where are the Sandpeople?”

Sirus points. “Out east there’s some rough ground and a long canyon. After that is the deep desert. I’d say about five or six miles. There used to be wells there a long time ago. If the Sandpeople are anywhere, they’ll be there.”

“Have you thought about selling up and leaving?”

“This is our home. Our livelihood. –Besides if a place has been raided it’s seen as toxic. Even a greedy Hutt would only buy it for asset stripping. They’d siphon off all the water in the vaporator tanks, strip the place of anything sellable and abandon it.”

Karnov is thinking on the old man’s words. Niall and Jimmi can sense the tension in the atmosphere. “You said toxic…?” Karnov muses. “Does that mean that one raid might lead to another?”

“If there are survivors from an encounter, they’re almost guaranteed to come back with greater numbers. It’s in Sandpeople culture to never let a skirmish go unresolved. They kill or be killed. -It’s their way.”

“Circle the wagons!” Jimmi says, being a bit over dramatic. “We need to barricade the windows and doors!” Karnov looks at the suns, on the turn before the afternoon. “I expect they’ll come at dusk.”

Niall nods. “Agreed. – But in the meantime I think we should scout it out. –What numbers are we talking about?”

“I don’t know. Scores maybe, if not hundreds.” The old man tells him.

Niall and Karnov step out to discuss the matter out of earshot.

“Maybe we’ll get to even the odds. –But I believe that if their numbers are too great, we should abandon the farm and get these people to safety. –We’ll use the ship if need-be.”

“It’ll kick up a lot of dust if we bring it here.”

“Okay. We’ll use it as a last resort. Tell the droids to stand-by. Round up the others, we’re going scouting!”

Niall tells them of his plan. “We’ll take the speeder.” He informs them, then stops. “Er….There’s one thing missing….”

Jimmi asks what it is. Niall looks sheepish. “I left my blaster back at the podrace.”

“I suspect that Hen3ry tidied it up….”

“But it leaves me without.” Niall points out.

“Here,” Mama offers, “Have my spare.”

“Carbine?”

“No, just a blaster….-But better than nothing.”

Blaster: Scale 1:1!

Niall hefts the weapon. He looks along the barrel. Finally he takes aim at a womp rat about a hundred yards away. The womp rat is partially obscured by a slight rise in the dunes and tufts of grass. Niall shoots. The sand kicks up a spurt and the womp rat scuttles off in fright.

“Sights are off.” Niall tells Mama, offering the weapon back.

“Works okay at short range….” Mama reassures him. “If you stand against that wall, I can show you.”

“Anyone got an apple?” Karnov asks.

Niall hastily admits that a few inches off at a hundred meters is not only mixing measurement systems, but will be okay. He takes the proffered weapon. “Not a carbine though.” He says ruefully.

“Too big and heavy. I’ve already got two blasters and a hold-out weighing me down.” Mama says. Jimmi raises an eyebrow. “I don’t even want to imagine where that hold-out is kept!”

They help the farmers barricade themselves in. “We won’t be long,” Karnov reassures them, “We promise to be back before dusk.” With that they mount the speeder and zoom off. A short while later they see the gorge and proceed carefully along it.

“May as well paint targets on our foreheads.” Niall says ruefully.

“I’m going to paint one on my belly.” Rojic replies.

“Why is that?”

“Coz it feels like I’ve got a hole in my stomach already, I’m that hungry!”

They spin past a sign buried in the sand. The irony is lost on Jimmi who can’t read it.

They continue cautiously, expecting an ambush at any moment. However, none comes. At the mouth of the gorge, they are just starting to relax a tiny bit, when a shot rings out from the rocks on their left. Everyone dives for cover. The speeder slews sideways, making it a larger amount of cover if there is to be a firefight. There is a moment’s pause. Our heroes scan the rocks for the sniper with their guns drawn. A moment later, a voice is heard shouting in Huttese. “Endoo du trooboo! Campio du Personas sabbia!”

“What does that mean?” Karnov hisses to the others who speak –or at least understand- the language.

“Stop. Trouble! Sand people camp!” Rojic translates.

“Pateess-a!” the voice says. There is no reply. “Friend?” it calls.

Slowly our heroes emerge. Above them and against the suns is a young Togruta of about fifteen. –Though it is difficult to guess at an exact age. “Meso wanna do endoo du attaskoo to du de Personas sabbia!” The lad explains. The others nod their understanding. Karnov scratches her head. The Togruta lad asks if she speaks the language. “Chuba! Talkdoo du Hutteesa?”

Karnov knows but a few words. “No.”

The lad tries again. Louder and slower. “CHUBA! TALK. DOO. DU. HUTT-EESA?”

“Um….”

Rojic answers for Karnov. “She doesn’t”

“He doesn’t?” The lad says, confused.

“He…She….The Quarren have no different words to denote gender.”

“Stupiddoo du fishdoo!”

“Even so, she and Niall here are Jedi….” Rojic starts to say.

The lad climbs down. “If you go into the camp today, you’re sure of a big surprise.” He says in accented basic. “What kind of surprise?” Mama asks.

The Togruta eyes them up. He counts off on his fingers. “Two Jedi. A Toydarian. A….” He looks at Jimmi. “A human -maybe,” He eyes Mama “-And a traditionally built human.”

“‘Traditionally?’ -I like that!” Mama beams at him.

Niall is serious. “How many in the camp?”

“Several hundred.”

Jimmi asks, “Including women and children?”

“Possibly two hundred warriors. Maybe another hundred non-combatants.”

“Yikes!”

Karnov does some adding up. “That’s a lot!”

“Good thing you didn’t blunder on in there. -Stupiddoo du fishdoo!”

Jimmi says, “Hey! We don’t even know your name.”

“I’m Ta’alan. – But you can call me Ta’alan.”

“That’s the same thing.”

“No. There’s extra emphasis on the first syllable.”

“Okay. Ta’alan.”

Ta’alan shakes his head. “No. That’s too much emphasis. Its ‘Ta’alan.’”

“Okay. Ta’alan.”

“Better, -but not perfect. However, time’s getting on and I can’t be bothered to teach you the subtleties of my language.”

They fall silent for a minute. Jimmi observes, with humour as dry as the sand around them. “Doesn’t really work with the printed word, does it?”

Ta’alan considers for a moment. “Nope. Anyway, you’ll not easily raid the camp. I hear that Jedi are worth a hundred troopers….But….”

“A hundred and three, me.” Karnov interrupts.

“Whatever ! SeeDoo du attaskoo to du de Personas sabbia De wanna wanga Goba Jeedai! We haffna Nobi Jedai and nobo fishdoo….Poodoo!”

The others try not to laugh at Karnov’s expense. In the end they reluctantly decide to retreat back to the farm and prepare for ground assault.

Ta'alan.

On the way back, Ta’alan chats. He hasn’t been many places, but his keen eye and Togruta heritage have earned him a meagre living as a scout and hunter. “I can live off the terrain….” He says proudly. All around him are barren hills and dusty sand dunes. “Okay, maybe not every terrain!”

“There must be some eco-system, otherwise how do Banthas and Krayt dragons survive at the top of the food chain?”

“Dunno. How is the bottom of the food chain?” Ta’alan asks Karnov, who merely glares at him. He changes the subject. “Who’s your scout?”

“We don’t scout, but we use aerial reconnaissance.”

“Ah….”

“We bagged a few Nexu some time back….”

Ta’alan’s eyes widen. “Wow. You guys must be good!”

“We are….We’re also a bit unconventional. We travel around helping people in need; making a little money and fighting on the side of the Republic.”

“I don’t know much about the war.” Ta’alan says regretfully. “I’ve not travelled much…. Home, Naboo, here…. A couple of other places.”

“We’ve been around the galaxy several times.” Niall says proudly. “Even across the great fold a couple a couple of times.”

“Wow….Er….What’s the great fold?”

Niall whips out a datapad and shows him. “Of course the name is meaningless on a flat data screen, but in the elder times, all this was on dried and flattened cellulose pulp.”

“He means paper.” Jimmi tells Ta’alan. “Mama remembers when all written works were on paper.”

Mama responds. “I remember when Tatooine was just a sand-pit, Hoth was but a snowball and even Kamino before the tide came in.”

Ta’alan doesn’t know is she is joking or being serious. “I suppose I could help you….For…..”

Mama pick up on his request. “For services rendered….I suppose you could earn yourself passage off-world.”

“Do we have a deal?”

“I rather think we have to have a deal!”

“Okay then it’s a deal.” They shake hands.

“What was that dealing all about?” Rojic asks.

“Reciprocity.”

“Oh!” Rojic understands. “I see. You do one for Mama, so she does one for you!”

“That’s what I said: Reciprocity!”

On arrival at the farmstead, they are relieved that it is still in one piece. “We’d better prepare.” Niall says, sitting down.

“That’s a whole lot of preparing you’re doing right there.” Jimmi chides him.

“Thinking. That is all.” Niall responds. Mama, who has been quiet for a moment starts to say something. “I don’t suppose we could appease them….How about returning their warriors to their families?”

“I don’t think they would go for that.” Ta’alan says, “They uphold a fierce and proud warrior tradition. They’d want vengeance even more so.”

Rojic agrees. “It would have been better to kill those two the boys tangled with the other day….”

My boys aren’t killers.” The old man tells them. “They were looking over a possible site for a new vaporator, that’s all.”

“Maybe it was a place that the Tuskens consider sacred.”

“Even so, to kill every one of us is a bit harsh.”

“Not to them. -It’s their culture.”

Karnov remembers something. “We had a Tusken ride with us for a while. He wasn’t so hostile.”

“He spent most of the time talking to Joe-9T. No-one can even guess what those two plotted.”

“Karnov is right though,” Jimmi agrees. “Maybe if we could negotiate.”

“Or infiltrate?”

“Or infiltrate. I could disguise myself with the clothes of the ones we killed earlier. Rojic could hook up a communicator patched through to Joe-9T….”

“It’s risky. They’re on the warpath. One slip of the tongue and they’d be on you in an instant. – they’d tear you apart like a pack of rabid Nexu.”

“Rojic shrugs. “I don’t see any problem with this plan!”

“I think we should leave the Jedi to go down with the farmstead.” Ta’alan says.

Mama disagrees. “I think the farmers should go down with the farmstead.”

In the end they let Ta’alan go up the trail for some way and spy on any approaching war band. The others make what preparations they can and put Storm Cutter on alert should they need emergency evacuation. Then it is a case of cleaning guns, testing weapons, burying the dead Tuskens and readying themselves for a fight.

A short while later, Niall is shovelling sand. He looks up into the glare of two setting suns and straight to Mama, who is watching him.

“So why do I get to bury the dead?”

“Should’ve brought your blaster.” She reminds him pointedly. “ There are those with guns….And those who dig.”

Niall’s response doesn’t get past the censors.

It isn’t long after the first sunset that Ta’alan spots a line of grim Sandpeople warriors approaching. He calls in on the communicator, but then decides to join the others in the defence. “There are too many to tackle alone.” He says over the communicator. Rojic flutters high in the sky and steadily works his way around the back of the war band. He recons well over one hundred and fifty warriors.

“They’re in small groups, or squads. Each with a leader.” He says, hovering high above. The column halts for a few seconds, then at some unseen signal runs full tilt at the farmstead. The assault is on!

For many long minutes, the air is filled with the guttural cries of the Sandpeople and the sights of blaster bolts streaking into their ranks. Karnov and Ta’alan open the score with a kill and three kills respectively. They withdraw a little to let the shooters find their marks. The slaughter begins. Niall and Karnov are on the steps. Karnov thrusting and parrying blows and keeping the enemy at bay. Niall is more animated, with jumps and leaps into and out of the fray. Every few seconds the buzz of their lightsabres is punctuated by a cry of pain, or the sounds of Sandpeople bodies slithering down the steps. Behind them, Mama, Jimmi and Ta’alan are keeping pace with the kills. Ta’alan firing with a blaster in each hand, missing infrequently. However, the raiders have rallied after an initial surge and send in Massif hounds. The crocodilian dogs scamper in, snapping, snarling and savage. They are met with blasters and lightsabres, until several lie dead. The Sandpeople have split up and are surrounding the dugout of the farm. Some of them have blasters and are firing into the buildings. A large Tusken hero leaps down and tangles with Ta’alan. He takes a blow to the head from a gaffi stick and a slash to the cheek. Then his guns come up in a flurry of shots and the brute stalls. Another shot to the head fells the hero who crashes down into the pit.

There is no time for respite as another group surge into the melee. Niall beats back several, clearing a space around him. In an instant he grabs at a thermal detonator. He outlines a plan to Rojic and hefts the bomb skyward. Rojic catches it cleanly, but is knocked back several yards. Flapping furiously to maintain his position, he strains at the arming switch. His poor strength can hardly budge it. In a final effort, he shoves at the switch, only to drop the bomb! It bounces off his foot and he pulls a steep dive to catch the device. Breathing hard, he manages to arm it and this time he lets it fall, while desperately flapping for altitude. There is a slight pause and then with a lound explosion, several dozen Sandpeople raiders are tossed into the air. Some of the waverers at the back decide that this is too much and make a break for the safety of the gorge. Rojic starts harrying the stragglers with his blaster, only pausing to change clips every six shots.

Another Massif charges into Karnov. She brings the hilt of her lightsabre down on its snout. The creatures sharp teeth close on her robe. It worries at the robe like a rabid Nexu, threatening to pull Karnov down the stairs. Karnov kicks out at the beast. Its head turns, giving Karnov a chance. With a reverse thrust, Karnov’s lightsabre slices off a chunk. The creature squirms and Karnov plunges the weapon through the body of the beast. The jaws are still clamped to Karnov’s robe and in the end she has to rip a long strip from the robe to get rid of the foul thing. Niall is working on another plan. He calls on the force and starts whipping up a dust storm. This slowly coalesces into a rearing Krayt dragon in the midst of the enemy throng. Several take fright at the apparition and run headlong into Rojic’s waiting blaster. Jimmi is occasionally picking up one of the enemy and throwing them around the battlefield. Several more heroes and champions take up offensive positions. These are harder to topple and the battle could tip either way for a few minutes. But finally the defenders break through. Mama’s barricade is shattered leaving her exposed. Ta’alan comes to her aid, leaping a crate with blasters blazing. Jimmi tosses a Massif up into the air and lets go. The poor creature howls on its descent, but stops when it makes a big crater at he bottom of the pit.

Ta’alan spots a chieftain. He runs full tilt at the Tusken, drawing fire from several others. The defenders sense the situation and give covering fire, felling several raiders in the process. Ta’alan fires a long burst from both blasters into the chieftain. Karnov fells a hero as it turns to witness the carnage. With one of the last chieftains down, the Sandpeople start to lose the will to fight any further. One by one they turn tail and flee into the relative safety of the gorge. Rojic fires a volley as the others give chase, firing into the air as they pursue. At the mouth of the gorge, the defenders slow and start a measured withdrawal. Mama deals with two still in the pit. By the time the others return, Jimmi is singing the Battle Hymn of the Republic.

“Mine eyes haven’t seen the glory when we all went abroad.

I was trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored.

We hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible vibro-sword.

Our clones are marching on!”

Ta’alan stops Jimmi. “Important safety tip: Don’t sing around people with loaded blasters. –Or indeed at all.”

The family emerge from their shattered barricades. They patch wounds and compare notes. No-one is certain that the Sandpeople are beaten for good. Mama says, “We’re headed for Ryloth. –It’s a war-torn dustbowl – Almost permanently in twilight. It’s dangerous and on the extreme edge of civilisation. She offers passage for Marcia and her family. “I can get you there for the cost of the fuel and the food only.”

The family are tempted by her offer. “We owe you our lives.” The old man says, “It would be a chance to start over, away from the Sandpeople threat. –Your offer is more than generous.”

Rojic snorts, but Karnov glares at him.

Niall has forgotten that he’s been there before.

“I don’t know the folks on Ryloth. –And to be truthful, I don’t much care to.”

“They’re Twi’leks.”

“I’m in! –What are we waiting for?”

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Footnotes:

Original 3/4 size Ashara Zavros image.... Now Ta'alan thanks to Photoshop!"