Chapter VI - Desert Allies
The Jedi were in the middle of a quick breakfast at the Black Bantha Diner when a wild- eyed Nikto burst in, waving his arms and babbling incoherently.
"What's he saying?" asked Chyna through a mouthful of hawk-bat egg.
/I could only make out something about Sandpeople/ Korie replied.
Luke dropped his spoon and stood, grabbing the Nikto by the shoulders. "Slow, down, sir, and repeat what you said."
"Sandpeople..." gasped the Nikto. "At least a hundred... coming down the main street..."
Tusken Raiders in Mos Eisley! As if the city didn't have enough problems! The desert nomads were normally reclusive and wary of outsiders, and though they sometimes gathered together to attack small settlements, a group of them entering a city was unheard of. Perhaps, with may of the smaller towns destroyed or evacuated, they were setting their sights on larger prey.
The six Jedi left the Black Bantha and ran down the street, having to dodge frightened pedestrians. Several townspeople joined them, carrying blasters, vibrostaffs, and other hastily snatched weapons.
A solid wall of Sandpeople marched steadfastly down the road, afoot or on banthas. It definitely wasn't a raiding party, for among the men in their wrappings that resembled crude faces were females, whose coverings resembled the veils worn by Muslim women on Earth. Some carried children in their arms or on their backs; others bore wounds, fresh and old, from some sort of struggle.
"Hold your fire!" ordered Luke just in time to stop an overeager Ishi Tib from pulling the trigger on his weapon.
"But Master Skywalker, they're Tuskens," Hekku pointed out.
"Do not make assumptions, Hekku," Luke warned. "Just because they're here doesn't automatically mean they want to attack..."
An Ithorian woman screamed as a Tusken stepped forward, clutching his gaderffi tightly in one hand. His other arm hung in a sling and bore a crude splint, and the swathing covering the left side of his face were stained red. He locked eyes with Luke, barked something, and carefully laid the gaderffi in the dust some three meters from Luke's feet.
Luke looked at the gaffi stick, then back at the Tusken. He wasn't sure what this gesture meant. Was it friendly or hostile? The only treatment he had ever gotten from Sandpeople had been the latter. Admittedly, he'd only been attacked when he strayed too far from the farm and into their territory. But this Tusken clearly expected something of him, and he didn't know what to do.
"Does anyone here know anything about Sandpeople?" he asked.
"Only that a pack of 'em killed my son and his girlfriend for no reason other than they stayed out after dark!" bellowed a human moisture farmer.
"They're vicious, mindless monsters!" spat the Ishi Tib.
Korie gave a negative grunt. "Don't jump to conclusions," her translator chimed. "You don't know their ways, so you have no right to condemn them."
"That's it!" Gabriel declared. "Korie's translator! It is programmed with several hundred languages. Maybe Tusken is in there somewhere."
"Good idea," Luke replied.
Korie removed the device and handed it to Gabriel.
"We are Jedi Knights," he said into the translator. "We wish to know what the meaning of what you just did is." He flipped through the available languages until "Tusken" appeared on the display, then played the message again, this time in the guttural, raucous tongue of the Sandpeople.
The effect was quite unanticipated. After a moment of stunned silence, one Tusken began laughing so hard he nearly fell off his bantha. This set another one laughing so hard he DID fall off his bantha. The rest of the party burst into honking laughter. The one who had dropped his gaderffi doubled over and slapped his thigh with his good hand in amusement, roaring with mirth.
"Starman's machine not work so well, eh?" he chuckled.
Gabriel blinked, stunned. "You speak English?"
"En-glish? What that?"
"Uh... another word for Basic."
"Ah yes, I know Basic. Learn from starman who study rocks in canyon." He pointed in the direction of Beggar's Canyon. "Gee-all-jist."
"Ah, geologist," Luke realized. "So what exactly did our machine say to you?"
"You really want know? It say 'we are Jedi Knights and we smell bad.'"
Luke laughed while Gabriel glared at the translator device. "Is this the manufacturer's idea of a joke?" he growled.
"Ah, not many people know Tusssssken," Xna replied with a smile. "They can be exxxxcussssed for their misssstake."
Luke gestured to the gaderffi. "I'm not sure what this means. Can you explain, please?"
"Yes, yes, I can, I can," the Tusken babbled, waving his good arm animatedly. "I speak for Sandpeople. Know Basic, so I be leader for this meeting. I put weapon down as show of peace. If Jedi do same, peace be between us. We not attack."
Luke nodded and gently set his lightsaber on the ground. "Jedi seek nonviolent means of settling problems whenever possible. We would be glad to accept your offer of peace." He looked over to see his students, too, were lowering their weapons to the ground. Even a few of the townspeople were following suit.
"Jedi are wise," noted the Tusken representative. "We know you not fight, but we are still pleased. My name is Wor'arran."
"Luke Skywalker," Luke introduced with a little bow.
The other Jedi introduced themselves as well:
"Chyna Skleric."
"Hekku."
"Xna."
"Gabriel DeBour."
"Korbanna."
"Good to meet you all," Wor'arran said.
"What are you lot doing here?" asked the Ithorian in a not-so-friendly tone. "This is our territory."
Wor'arran gave her a cool look. "Starwoman should know that we live here long time, before her. All this planet our territory."
Luke knew that, whatever the Sandpeople's reason for being here, it wasn't going to be easy to maintain friendly relations between them and the people of Mos Eisley. The offworlders had bitter feelings toward the nomads, as many of them had lost friends and loved ones to Tusken attacks. In return, Sandpeople hated offworlders for intruding on their domain.
"This be Sha'kooha, chief and shaman of the Dragon Tribe," Wor'arran introduced as a second Tusken slid down from his bantha and approached. Sha'kooha's body wrappings were intertwined with strips of brightly patterned snakeskin, and he wore a necklace of animal teeth and small bones. In one hand he carried, instead of a gaderffi, a staff carved from the leg bone of a ronto, with carved, hollow bone beads hanging from leather thongs on the top that clattered every time he moved. Around one wrist he wore a woven leather band with a polished blue krayt dragon gem bound within it.
"Honored to meet you, Chief Sha'kooha," Luke greeted, bowing.
Wor'arran translated, and the chief grunted and passed a hand over Luke's head, mumbling something.
"Sha'kooha likes that Jedi treat him with respect," Wor'arran said. "He command spirits of desert to guard you and fellows."
"Thank you, Chief," Luke replied.
Sha'kooha continued to speak, motioning for Wor'arran to keep translating.
"Chief not eager to ask help of starmen, but we not have choice. Starmen and Sandpeople never get along, but most starmen leave us alone. Now we are being attacked."
"Three guesses who," Hekku muttered.
"It is the same, wherever we go. They come in groups, always. They shoot and kill, then steal our food, weapons, animals, all they get hands on. They catch and beat some. It is awful, and they will not stop.
"Chief go to other tribes. This is not often done. Tusken tribes stay far apart. Kill each other if not. But others know this must be done. Others be attacked too. Dewback Tribe, Ronto Tribe, Massif Tribe, Sarlaac Tribe, all attacked. Chiefs all know Sandpeople must do something or die.
"Chiefs of all tribes tell Sandpeople to gather. Many come. Thousands. All together, one big camp. We stay outside this city. Send one chief and me to talk to starmen and ask for help." At this point Sha'kooha spread his arms wide and bellowed in triumph, rattling his staff so the beads clattered wildly. "And Jedi be with starmen! Spirits bless us! You will help, no?"
Luke nodded slowly. "The starmen are being attacked, too. We fight the same enemy you do. They are pirates, and their leader is a dangerous man, one who seeks revenge."
Wor'arran told this to Sha'kooha, who barked a reply.
"Chief sees truth in you, Jedi Luke. Enemies of our enemies be our friends. If you will have it, of course."
"I would be honored to call your people friends and allies," Luke replied.
Sha'kooha bowed deeply, rumbling.
"Chief is yours to command, Jedi Luke," Wor'arran said reverently.
"Tell Chief Sha'kooha to take his party back to your camp. We'll send soldiers to guard you. If any among you knows anything about the pirates, send them back here and have them ask for Master Skywalker. Have Wor'arran go with them to translate."
"It will be done as you command, Jedi Luke," Wor'arran said. "May the spirits be with you."
"May the Force be with you," Luke replied with a wide grin.
The chief remounted his bantha, Wor'arran retrieved his gaderffi, and the Tusken Raiders turned themselves around and began to march away.
"That went better than I expected," Chyna said with a grin. "Not even a shot."
"That should be the ideal outcome of any confrontation," Luke told his students. "Unfortunately, it's not always the case."
"You're going to help them?!" demanded the moisture farmer, incredulous.
"They have just proved themselves to be something other than vicious, mindless monsters," Korie barked with aid from her translator. "They are suffering the same problem you are. How can we, as Jedi, deny them aid?"
Governor Nitch approached at that moment, kicking his eopie into a gallop. The beast staggered to a halt beside Luke.
"I got here as fast as I could!" he panted. "I was told Sandpeople..."
"You're a few minutes too late," Gabriel told him.
"Oh." He stared after the departing nomads. "Uh, what did they want?"
"Help," Luke replied. "The pirates, apparently, aren't choosy, and the Sandpeople are victims of their atrocities too. They're camped outside Mos Eisley and will need Republic troops to protect them."
Nitch hesitated, then nodded. "It will be done, Master Jedi."
Luke smiled and turned back to his Padawans. "So, shall we get back to our breakfasts before they get cold?"
The Jedi were in the middle of a quick breakfast at the Black Bantha Diner when a wild- eyed Nikto burst in, waving his arms and babbling incoherently.
"What's he saying?" asked Chyna through a mouthful of hawk-bat egg.
/I could only make out something about Sandpeople/ Korie replied.
Luke dropped his spoon and stood, grabbing the Nikto by the shoulders. "Slow, down, sir, and repeat what you said."
"Sandpeople..." gasped the Nikto. "At least a hundred... coming down the main street..."
Tusken Raiders in Mos Eisley! As if the city didn't have enough problems! The desert nomads were normally reclusive and wary of outsiders, and though they sometimes gathered together to attack small settlements, a group of them entering a city was unheard of. Perhaps, with may of the smaller towns destroyed or evacuated, they were setting their sights on larger prey.
The six Jedi left the Black Bantha and ran down the street, having to dodge frightened pedestrians. Several townspeople joined them, carrying blasters, vibrostaffs, and other hastily snatched weapons.
A solid wall of Sandpeople marched steadfastly down the road, afoot or on banthas. It definitely wasn't a raiding party, for among the men in their wrappings that resembled crude faces were females, whose coverings resembled the veils worn by Muslim women on Earth. Some carried children in their arms or on their backs; others bore wounds, fresh and old, from some sort of struggle.
"Hold your fire!" ordered Luke just in time to stop an overeager Ishi Tib from pulling the trigger on his weapon.
"But Master Skywalker, they're Tuskens," Hekku pointed out.
"Do not make assumptions, Hekku," Luke warned. "Just because they're here doesn't automatically mean they want to attack..."
An Ithorian woman screamed as a Tusken stepped forward, clutching his gaderffi tightly in one hand. His other arm hung in a sling and bore a crude splint, and the swathing covering the left side of his face were stained red. He locked eyes with Luke, barked something, and carefully laid the gaderffi in the dust some three meters from Luke's feet.
Luke looked at the gaffi stick, then back at the Tusken. He wasn't sure what this gesture meant. Was it friendly or hostile? The only treatment he had ever gotten from Sandpeople had been the latter. Admittedly, he'd only been attacked when he strayed too far from the farm and into their territory. But this Tusken clearly expected something of him, and he didn't know what to do.
"Does anyone here know anything about Sandpeople?" he asked.
"Only that a pack of 'em killed my son and his girlfriend for no reason other than they stayed out after dark!" bellowed a human moisture farmer.
"They're vicious, mindless monsters!" spat the Ishi Tib.
Korie gave a negative grunt. "Don't jump to conclusions," her translator chimed. "You don't know their ways, so you have no right to condemn them."
"That's it!" Gabriel declared. "Korie's translator! It is programmed with several hundred languages. Maybe Tusken is in there somewhere."
"Good idea," Luke replied.
Korie removed the device and handed it to Gabriel.
"We are Jedi Knights," he said into the translator. "We wish to know what the meaning of what you just did is." He flipped through the available languages until "Tusken" appeared on the display, then played the message again, this time in the guttural, raucous tongue of the Sandpeople.
The effect was quite unanticipated. After a moment of stunned silence, one Tusken began laughing so hard he nearly fell off his bantha. This set another one laughing so hard he DID fall off his bantha. The rest of the party burst into honking laughter. The one who had dropped his gaderffi doubled over and slapped his thigh with his good hand in amusement, roaring with mirth.
"Starman's machine not work so well, eh?" he chuckled.
Gabriel blinked, stunned. "You speak English?"
"En-glish? What that?"
"Uh... another word for Basic."
"Ah yes, I know Basic. Learn from starman who study rocks in canyon." He pointed in the direction of Beggar's Canyon. "Gee-all-jist."
"Ah, geologist," Luke realized. "So what exactly did our machine say to you?"
"You really want know? It say 'we are Jedi Knights and we smell bad.'"
Luke laughed while Gabriel glared at the translator device. "Is this the manufacturer's idea of a joke?" he growled.
"Ah, not many people know Tusssssken," Xna replied with a smile. "They can be exxxxcussssed for their misssstake."
Luke gestured to the gaderffi. "I'm not sure what this means. Can you explain, please?"
"Yes, yes, I can, I can," the Tusken babbled, waving his good arm animatedly. "I speak for Sandpeople. Know Basic, so I be leader for this meeting. I put weapon down as show of peace. If Jedi do same, peace be between us. We not attack."
Luke nodded and gently set his lightsaber on the ground. "Jedi seek nonviolent means of settling problems whenever possible. We would be glad to accept your offer of peace." He looked over to see his students, too, were lowering their weapons to the ground. Even a few of the townspeople were following suit.
"Jedi are wise," noted the Tusken representative. "We know you not fight, but we are still pleased. My name is Wor'arran."
"Luke Skywalker," Luke introduced with a little bow.
The other Jedi introduced themselves as well:
"Chyna Skleric."
"Hekku."
"Xna."
"Gabriel DeBour."
"Korbanna."
"Good to meet you all," Wor'arran said.
"What are you lot doing here?" asked the Ithorian in a not-so-friendly tone. "This is our territory."
Wor'arran gave her a cool look. "Starwoman should know that we live here long time, before her. All this planet our territory."
Luke knew that, whatever the Sandpeople's reason for being here, it wasn't going to be easy to maintain friendly relations between them and the people of Mos Eisley. The offworlders had bitter feelings toward the nomads, as many of them had lost friends and loved ones to Tusken attacks. In return, Sandpeople hated offworlders for intruding on their domain.
"This be Sha'kooha, chief and shaman of the Dragon Tribe," Wor'arran introduced as a second Tusken slid down from his bantha and approached. Sha'kooha's body wrappings were intertwined with strips of brightly patterned snakeskin, and he wore a necklace of animal teeth and small bones. In one hand he carried, instead of a gaderffi, a staff carved from the leg bone of a ronto, with carved, hollow bone beads hanging from leather thongs on the top that clattered every time he moved. Around one wrist he wore a woven leather band with a polished blue krayt dragon gem bound within it.
"Honored to meet you, Chief Sha'kooha," Luke greeted, bowing.
Wor'arran translated, and the chief grunted and passed a hand over Luke's head, mumbling something.
"Sha'kooha likes that Jedi treat him with respect," Wor'arran said. "He command spirits of desert to guard you and fellows."
"Thank you, Chief," Luke replied.
Sha'kooha continued to speak, motioning for Wor'arran to keep translating.
"Chief not eager to ask help of starmen, but we not have choice. Starmen and Sandpeople never get along, but most starmen leave us alone. Now we are being attacked."
"Three guesses who," Hekku muttered.
"It is the same, wherever we go. They come in groups, always. They shoot and kill, then steal our food, weapons, animals, all they get hands on. They catch and beat some. It is awful, and they will not stop.
"Chief go to other tribes. This is not often done. Tusken tribes stay far apart. Kill each other if not. But others know this must be done. Others be attacked too. Dewback Tribe, Ronto Tribe, Massif Tribe, Sarlaac Tribe, all attacked. Chiefs all know Sandpeople must do something or die.
"Chiefs of all tribes tell Sandpeople to gather. Many come. Thousands. All together, one big camp. We stay outside this city. Send one chief and me to talk to starmen and ask for help." At this point Sha'kooha spread his arms wide and bellowed in triumph, rattling his staff so the beads clattered wildly. "And Jedi be with starmen! Spirits bless us! You will help, no?"
Luke nodded slowly. "The starmen are being attacked, too. We fight the same enemy you do. They are pirates, and their leader is a dangerous man, one who seeks revenge."
Wor'arran told this to Sha'kooha, who barked a reply.
"Chief sees truth in you, Jedi Luke. Enemies of our enemies be our friends. If you will have it, of course."
"I would be honored to call your people friends and allies," Luke replied.
Sha'kooha bowed deeply, rumbling.
"Chief is yours to command, Jedi Luke," Wor'arran said reverently.
"Tell Chief Sha'kooha to take his party back to your camp. We'll send soldiers to guard you. If any among you knows anything about the pirates, send them back here and have them ask for Master Skywalker. Have Wor'arran go with them to translate."
"It will be done as you command, Jedi Luke," Wor'arran said. "May the spirits be with you."
"May the Force be with you," Luke replied with a wide grin.
The chief remounted his bantha, Wor'arran retrieved his gaderffi, and the Tusken Raiders turned themselves around and began to march away.
"That went better than I expected," Chyna said with a grin. "Not even a shot."
"That should be the ideal outcome of any confrontation," Luke told his students. "Unfortunately, it's not always the case."
"You're going to help them?!" demanded the moisture farmer, incredulous.
"They have just proved themselves to be something other than vicious, mindless monsters," Korie barked with aid from her translator. "They are suffering the same problem you are. How can we, as Jedi, deny them aid?"
Governor Nitch approached at that moment, kicking his eopie into a gallop. The beast staggered to a halt beside Luke.
"I got here as fast as I could!" he panted. "I was told Sandpeople..."
"You're a few minutes too late," Gabriel told him.
"Oh." He stared after the departing nomads. "Uh, what did they want?"
"Help," Luke replied. "The pirates, apparently, aren't choosy, and the Sandpeople are victims of their atrocities too. They're camped outside Mos Eisley and will need Republic troops to protect them."
Nitch hesitated, then nodded. "It will be done, Master Jedi."
Luke smiled and turned back to his Padawans. "So, shall we get back to our breakfasts before they get cold?"