Hi folks,

This story came about while I was listening to the soundtrack to Sergio Leone's "Once Upon A Time In The West." I thought to myself, "how cool would it be to see this tory play out in the Star Wars universe?" The story I am writing intends to answer that question! What you will read here is essentially a retelling of Leone's great film, but with Star Wars elements. Please keep in mind that this is all a work in progress and things are subject to change. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it.

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A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away . . . .

STAR WARS

Once Upon A Time In The Outer Rim

It is a simple time. Decades have passed since the end of the JEDI CIVIL WAR, causing the last handful of Jedi and Sith to seek isolation in the farthest corners of the galaxy. Planets have started to feel the calmness of peace and have begun to rebuild, some more faster and easier than others.

Located on the edge of the OUTER RIM, the desert planet of TATOOINE has begun its slow crawl towards modernization. The harsh climate makes lives difficult for those who cannot adapt. Inhabitants who see the promise of development and money have traveled to Tatooine, bringing their kills with them. While there are those who strive for an honest living for themselves and loved ones, the notorious ZORTHA THE HUTT has grown rich off the desert land in which cities have developed.

Nestled far from the city of Mos Espa lies the home of the EISLEY FAMILY, who have been successful in the process of MOISTURE FARMING, a process which collects water from the humidity in the air. The high concentration of water in this area has caused the land's value to soar and the Eisley Family carves out a simple existence, unaware of the malevolent eyes that have fallen upon them . . . .

Chapter 1: The Stranger Arrives

It had been a relatively quite afternoon in the Mos Espa Spaceport as traffic was light and cargo shipments had been nothing but routine. Such knowledge made the port master quite pleased. The short Ithorian sat behind his desk near the entrance to the spaceport, a wide circular space that was large enough to comfortable fit four transport ships and two cargo freighters. Small containers and droids occupied the wide open space before the port master, running through their duties by keeping the area clean and tidy. The Ithorian always prided himself on keeping a clean port of call. Shuffling a stack of papers that detailed landing schedules, the alien dabbed a small cloth against its elongated neck, dabbing the beads of perspiration off its leather-like skin. It was a particularly hot afternoon today and the weather reports indicated that the temperature would increase until the second sun had begun to set, and then drop. The nights were always cold on Tatooine, too cold for this Ithorian at least.

A line in one of the papers had caught the alien's eyes. Holding the paper up to his eyes, his pleasant sense of calm was stripped away as he read an announcement that a transport carrying general supplies and a consignment of bacta would be three hours late. If there was anything this Ithorian disliked besides the weather and a messy workplace were delays. He stepped out from his little office and made his way over to the wall on the opposite side of the large set of blast doors. The Ithorian stood about five feet tall and was considered to be the shortest of his family tribe. He had no problems with his height because he felt his success with the spaceport commanded more stature. He wore a beige tunic that was made from light wool fabric, held together by a brown leather belt which held several small bags and his Blastech A-13 blaster in a holster. Standing in front of a large board, he rubbed his neck as he stared at the listing of landings and departures. He pulled out a small computer pad from one of the bags on his belt and began typing before looking at the large screen again as the listing for the transport listed at the top of the screen moved at the bottom of the list. The Ithorian hated delays, they always played hell with his schedules. The alien was so absorbed in his annoyance that he had failed to hear the three swoop bikes stop just outside the spaceport. He did manage to hear the quiet sound of the blast doors opening and as he turned to greet his visitors, he bumped into a tall humanoid man that stood in front of him. He was about to give the fellow a piece of his mind when he stared into the eyes of the man.

The muscular figure towered over the alien and his face looked weathered from the heat and sun. His square face was framed by a patch of dark whiskers around his mouth and neck. He wore a heavy dark shirt covered by a light vest. His left hand gripped the blaster in his holster, while his right hand was in a pocket in his dark pants that were covered from the knee down by a pair of beaten boots. The Ithorian tried to mutter a few words of apologies, but with his fear, all he could muster was a quiet squeaking sound. The man turned away from the port master and motioned to his two counterparts with a nod. The alien watched as a Trandoshan stepped through the blast doors carrying a long rifle in his clawed hands. He wore a white vest covered by two bandoliers and his light pants were cut short at the knees, exposing his scaly skin and sharp clawed feet. The Ithorian yelped as the creature snarled at him before moving further inside the spaceport. The Trandoshan was followed by another human, but unlike the first, this human was short and bulky and carried two small blasters in his fat hands. His head was bare and his eyes gleamed in the sunlight. He pointed one of his blasters at the Ithorian who cowered to the ground trembling, but when the short man let out a hard laugh, the alien slowly got to his feet, watching as the short human took a place on the far wall. The alien looked back at the human in front of him and spoke softly.

"Can…can I help you gentlemen?" The scared alien said in a meek voice. "A-are you here about transport 32-1138? I w-was….notified that it would be…late."

The human continued to stare at the port master, making him feel even more ill at ease.

"S-surely bacta can wait, yes?" He tried to chuckle. "There should be plenty at a nearby store, sir."

The human walked over towards the screen detailing the ingoing and outgoing ships. He traced his finger along the name of a ship near the top of the list, which caused the alien to let out a sigh of relief. Dabbing his neck with a small piece of cloth, the Ithorian watched as the man started walking into his office. The Ithorian felt taken aback by this sight, since people walking into his office uninvited was worse than a Rancor biting his heels. In his disbelief, the port master had forgotten who he had been dealing with.

"Hey!" He shouted after the human who stood in front of a computer terminal inside the office, shaking a long finger. "You can't go in there! Private business!" The Ithorian immediately regretted those words as the Trandoshan rushed in front of the alien and thrust the butt of his blaster rifle against the port master's stomach, causing him to crash to the ground, doubling over in pain. The Trandoshan snarled as he readied his rifle, aiming for the fallen creature's head.

"Enough," the human said in a gruff, low voice from within the office. He peered around the small room until his eyes fell upon a small closet. He motioned to his partner and the Trandoshan caught the port master by the arm and dragged him into the room. The human leader opened the closet and threw out a pair of boots and a work suit. Grabbing the Ithorian by the arm, he threw him into the closet and before closing the door, looked into the alien's eyes and press a finger against his lips, telling the alien wordlessly to keep quiet. The human moved back to the computer terminal where the Trandoshan was typing.

"Well? Is he coming?" The human asked.

The alien's snake-like voice responded. "Yes. His transport is due any minute."

"Take your position then. When the transport leaves, I want you three next to me. One gun ain't beating three." He said with a chuckle as he left the office and into the wide open space of the port. He stared up in the sky and shielded his eyes from the brightness of Tatooine's twin suns. The sky was a deep blue and empty apart from the occasional transport ship flying over the area. He rubbed the perspiration from his forehead with his right sleeve as he found a small chair next to a stack of crates. Sitting himself down, he crossed his legs and leaned his head against one of the plastoid boxes. He could hear the Trandoshan leave the office and take his position, as well as the soft clicks coming from his inspection of the rifle. Crossing his arms, he watched as a small womprat had found itself inside the space port. It scampered around the area in a vain quest for food. Eventually, the creature had found itself near the human and, in a bold move, started to sniff the tip of the man's boot. The human feigned sleep, watching the womprat through half-closed eyes as he slowly reached for his small vibro blade in the inside pocket of his vest. Gripping the blade and, the human watched the animal quietly and carefully sniff around him. In a flash, the knife flew from the man's hand and straight through the animal's side, causing the tiny animal to let out a squeak before it fell dead onto the sound. The man leaned forward and pressed his right foot against the carcass of the animal, holding it in place while he pulled out the blade. Wiping the blood off the edge of the knife on his pants, he slipped the weapon back into the vest. With a last look at his companions, he let his eyes close.

After several minutes of quiet, a low humming sound began to break the tense silence of the spaceport. The human leader opened his eyes as the humming grew louder and louder. Getting to his feet, he straightened his vest and looked at his companions as they stepped away from the wall and took up positions behind their leader. The humming grew louder until the transport shuttle appeared over their heads. Looking up at the belly of the white ship, he watched as the shuttle slowly began to descend into the circular area. As the shuttle landed a wind had filled the port kicking up sand and dust, forcing the three figures to shield their eyes and mouths. Once the shuttle came to a stop, a metallic whirring sound came from the left side of the shuttle as the ramp descended. The three figures could not see the figure walk down the ramp, but knew that the ship's single occupant was very important.

The shuttle's engines began to activate and the ship slowly ascended in the sky, once again kicking up sand. When the ship had flown away, the leader of watched as the stranger looked up into the sky before turning around to face the welcoming party. The stranger was a tall man, with a face that looked as if it were shaped by a ravaging sand storm, his dark blond hair was smooth, but matted over his forehead from sweat. He wore a tan-colored poncho that covered a brown tunic and fell just below his waist. A warm breeze fell into the spaceport and caught on the figure's poncho, causing it to dance in the wind. The leader of the armed group noticed the blaster that hung on the stranger's right hip, but his attention was focused on an odd metal rod that hung from the left side of the belt. The wind was gone as soon as it began, and the scene was once again calm, quiet and tense. The leader of the human and Trandoshan watched as the stranger reached under his poncho from his neck, revealing a small, slim metal object that hung on a cord wrapped around the man's neck. The stranger placed the piece of metal to his mouth and the silence of the spaceport was broken by two metallic sounding musical notes. The human leader recognized the sound of an old fashioned instrument that he hadn't heard for a good long while. It put him a little on edge to hear the notes, and he hovered his hand over the blaster. He nodded to the Trandoshan and the short human to prepare their weapons. The stranger let the instrument fall from his lips and drop against his chest, suspended on a cord around his neck. Minutes passed as the three men stared at the stranger in the brown clothes and grew nervous at the stranger's hard, piercing stare.

Suddenly, the short human pulled out his blasters from the holsters and fired two red bolts of energy at the lone figure. With amazing speed, the stranger reached for the steel rod that hung from his waist. Placing the object in front of him, the stranger pressed a small red button near the bottom of the rod, cause a orange-colored blade to shoot out from the opposite end of the rod. He let the lightsaber cut through the air as the bolts of energy bounced off the orange blade and ricocheted into opposite directions. The three bounty hunters stood in shock at the sight. The leader clenched his teeth as the Trandoshan whispered, "Jedi," and the other two bounty hunters drew their weapons and fired on the stranger, who skillfully deflected the shots with the energy blade with quick movements of his left hand. With a flick of the wrist, the stranger deflected a bolt that hit the short human in the throat. So focused were the human and Trandoshan on the stranger's lightsaber that they failed to notice the figure take out his blaster and fired, hitting the Trandoshan twice in the stomach In a desperate move, the human leader raised his blaster and fired a shot just as a blaster bolt struck him on the head. The shot from the human leader's weapon hit the stranger on his right shoulder, causing him to spin and fall to the ground.

The spaceport had once again fallen into silence. After several moments, the stranger stirred from his position on the sandy ground. He placed a hand on the ground and shifted his weight into his arm, letting his body to be pushed back, allowing for the stranger to lie on his back. Peering up into the blue sky, the man felt the blaster burn on his right shoulder with his left hand. After a brief moment of pain, he reached into a bag on his belt and pulled out a small medical kit. With his wound treated, the man stood up and gazed at the lifeless bodies that lay before him. Stepping over their bodies, he walked over to one of the red swoop bikes that had, until recently, been the property of the leader of this group of bounty hunters.