Thank you, Sithspawn and masterkoon, for the reviews!
Sandstorm Part 4
The Naboo Angel glided over the grimy desert city of Mos Eisley and came to a gentle landing on the appointed docking bay. Inside the cockpit, Luke signaled his father that they had arrived and headed for the lounge as Anakin came out of his bedroom, shrugging his brown Jedi robe on over his tan tunic and pants.
Owen and Beru were standing near the doorway, and Owen had the grace to look a bit shame-faced as Anakin approached. The older Jedi pointedly ignored him and watched his son as Luke went to a closet on the left wall, grabbed his own robe, and looked questioningly at him.
"Ready, Father?"
"As I'll ever be."
Anakin left the lounge, walking down the narrow hall to the hatch. Luke started to follow, then glanced back at his guardians. "Are you coming?"
"Yes," Owen hesitated, then said, "I guess maybe I shouldn't have said that back there. I-I'm sorry."
"I'm not the one you should apologize to," Luke answered quietly.
"Yeah, well, maybe," Owen mumbled. He shook his head, and continued, "Look, I don't want you to be worrying about us when you need to be concentrating on your job, so we'll stay with you for now, all right?"
Luke hid his surprise and nodded. It wasn't like Owen to do an about face like he'd just done on the issue of them staying at the farm alone. Either his aunt had managed to talk some sense into his uncle, or he was feeling pretty shaken up about the confrontation. But they didn't have time to discuss the issue further. Luke led the way down the hall to where Anakin was waiting by the open hatchway.
They descended slowly, the Jedi in the lead with Owen and Beru a couple of steps of behind. The mayor of Mos Eisley, a tall, attractive dark-skinned woman was standing near the foot of the ramp. She was dressed in a cream- colored shirt and pants, and a deep blue cloak fell to her ankles. She was surrounded by a small troop of New Republic guards, all of whom came to attention and saluted as the Jedi approached. Their smart navy and gold uniforms were a sharp contrast to the dingy docking bay, although the fine layer of sand covering their boots marred their appearance slightly. But this was Tatooine. Not much could be done about the ubiquitous sand.
"Greetings, Masters Skywalker," the woman bowed her head regally. "I am Azita Chayton, mayor of Mos Eisley. Thank you for coming to our aid."
Anakin and Luke returned her bow, with the Lars copying them a heartbeat later.
Luke introduced his guardians and said, "You're welcome."
His father added. "I only hope that we can help. Negotiating with the Tusken Raiders will not be easy."
Mayor Chayton nodded. "Yes, you're right about that. We've tried compromising with them in the past. We did not succeed."
"Can you tell us more about what's been going on the past few months?" Anakin asked. "More details about the fighting and any plans for a peaceful solution that you've tried?"
She motioned them towards a large gray transport waiting nearby. "Of course. Why don't we talk on the way to my office?" She turned to several of the troops and said, "Please remain here to guard the Jedi's ship until they return."
As they walked toward the transport, she explained. "Things have gotten a little better lately, since many people left to take up farming, but we still have problems with stealing, muggings, and vandalism. I'm sure your ship is protected, but just to be sure, I'll have it guarded."
They climbed in-the Jedi, the mayor, and the Lars in the back, with the rest of the guards in the front. Once they'd settled in and the transport began crawling along the dusty streets towards the office complexes in the heart of the city, Mayor Chayton continued.
"I was appointed mayor five months ago, and it was one month after that when the New Republic arranged the business transactions with Cerea. It seemed like a godsend. People here were getting desperate. It was hard to find enough money just to feed and clothe their families. So as soon as the irrigation systems were set up, people began leaving the cities in droves to take up japor farming."
She sighed. "But almost right away, we began hearing reports about fights with the Tusken Raiders. At first the conflicts were small, but they were always violent. There were losses on both sides, and each death only seemed to make the hatred and the desire for vengeance grow."
"The mayors have had several meetings, trying to figure out a solution. Twice we've attempted to contact the Tuskens, to try to arrange some peaceful agreement with them. The first representative never could find a tribe. The second one was returned to us-in pieces."
"The worst battle was a week ago. Rockridge was a farming community about two days' travel west of Anchorhead. The guard station in Anchorhead picked up some emergency calls from Rockridge in the middle of the night. They could hear screams and rifle shots in the background, but by the time anyone was able to get out there, it was too late. All they found were burned buildings, and bodies. One hundred families, approximately two- thirds of them women and children, were slaughtered."
"That was when we knew we needed help, so we contacted the New Republic, and here you are," she finished evenly.
Anakin bit his lower lip and struggled to release his anger into the Force. He knew this blind rage was wrong for a Jedi, wrong for anyone actually, and he didn't want to tread the fine line near the dark side again-please, Force, no, not that again!
But he was seeing unwanted memories of Shmi, bound, bloodied, and broken. Her voice, so weak and rough from her ordeal at the Tuskens' hands, that it was almost unrecognizable. And they hadn't changed at all. They were still monsters, with no compunction about killing the innocent. How could he not feel anger?
Of course you feel anger. I do, too, but try not to let your anger become personal.From beside him, Luke gave his hand a squeeze. Grandmother is in a better place, let those memories go, and focus on what we need to do now.
Anakin took a deep breath and gave a quick nod as Luke said aloud. "Do you know if the Tuskens are acting individually, or if they've joined forces? Each tribe has a chief, but do you know if there's a leader over all of them?"
Mayor Chayton shook her head. "I'm afraid I can't answer that. We haven't been to communicate with them at all."
Owen and Beru had been quiet so far, but now Owen muttered a curse under his breath and said, "Those monsters don't deserve any compassion. They need to be wiped out, so Tatooine can be safe for all the decent people." And even Beru nodded her agreement.
Luke glanced around at all of them, his own emotions in a turmoil. He believed that all life was precious, and as a Jedi, he knew he had to respect the Tusken Raiders' lives as much as the settlers. But he had to admit that it might not be easy. He had grown up hearing tales of the sandpeople's brutality, had heard of the way they had tortured and killed his grandmother, and it sounded like they were as bloodthirsty as ever.
But the settlers might not completely innocent, either, he reminded himself. They may have committed atrocities in retaliation. It wasn't going to be easy to find a way to end the hostilities.
Looking out the window, he noticed several differences in the town since his last, and only, visit. The buildings were in even worse shape. Many were abandoned, with darkened and broken windows. The streets seemed almost empty, and there were no alien species to be seen. Luke supposed that was because there were fewer off-worlders coming to do business now. Of the people he did see, they were almost all human, with a scattering of jawas and droids, and they all traveled in groups and kept their hands near their blasters.
The transport came to a halt in front of a large white building with a sign proclaiming "Administrative Offices, Mos Eisley" over the doorway. They entered and walked down a sterile hall that seemed in direct contrast to the heat and dust outside to Mayor Chayton's office, a large, comfortably furnished room in the back. A thin young man with auburn hair and green eyes was waiting for them. He wore a light-colored suit that was well- worn, but seemed finely made, and offered them drinks and snack foods when they entered.
"Thank you, Tyee," Mayor Chayton said as they all gratefully helped themselves. "This is Tyee Harun. He's one of my assistants, and we've assigned him to work with you while you're here." She gave Tyee a wry look. "He has a unique perspective on the matter."
Luke, Anakin, Beru, and Owen all looked questioningly at the unassuming young man. He was probably only a few years older than Luke, and seemed completely unprepossessing. He gave them an almost embarrassed smile.
"I speak the language of the Tusken Raiders. I can help you to communicate with them."
"How do you speak their language?" Owen asked while Anakin spoke at the same time. "How? They've never allowed anyone to spend enough time with them to learn their language."
Tyee pursed his lips. "I'm an exception. My parents died when I was a baby, and I was found by a tribe of Tuskens. They adopted me and raised me as one of their own. I lived with them until I was ten."
They gaped at him in astonishment. Finally Luke asked, "What happened when you were ten?"
Tyee looked down at his hands and said quietly. "My tribe was attacked by a rival tribe. All of the members of my clan were killed. My adoptive parents hid me in a nearby cave, and I escaped. Afterward I wandered around in the desert until I collapsed from the heat and dehydration. Some settlers found me and took me in."
A long silence followed his words, as they all digested this bit of information. Luke noticed that in the midst of hearing about all the horrible deeds the Tuskens had done, this piece of news seemed jarringly out of character. Why would Tusken Raiders, who had always been branded as soulless, brutal monsters, spare one baby's life? Not only spare him, but accept him and care for him? It made no sense. Unless perhaps there was more to the Tusken Raiders than they had thought?
Suddenly a loud beep interrupted their musings, and Mayor Chayton reached to switch on a holograph receptor. A small, fuzzy blue image appeared, of a man in a New Republic uniform, and he spoke anxiously.
"Mayor Chayton, I am Lt. Deak Mansi from Anchorhead. A large group of Tusken Raiders has gathered within a few miles of the town, and we fear they will soon attack. Please send reinforcements as soon as possible."
"I'm afraid I can't spare any troops, Lieutenant. But two Jedi Masters have arrived from Coruscant. I will ask them to go to Anchorhead and assist you," Mayor Chayton replied. "Good luck."
"We're on our way," Anakin said. He spun around and headed briskly down the hall, calling back to the mayor, "We'll need to take a speeder back to our ship. That'll be quicker than a transport."
Luke gazed at the empty hologram for just a second. "Deak? A New Republic lieutenant? Who'd have thought..." he shook himself out of his reverie and hurried after his father, with Owen and Beru right behind him.
He glanced over at them, "Uncle Owen, Aunt Beru, I'm sure it would be all right if you-"
His uncle gave him a fierce look. "Don't you dare suggest that I stay here while you take off to fight sandpeople. I have friends in Anchorhead, and I can handle a rifle."
He looked over at his wife, but before he could say anything she added firmly, "I can handle a rifle, too."
Tyee Harun was racing along beside them as well. "You may need someone who can talk with the Tuskens."
There was no more time for discussion. A navy speeder was already idling by the front door, and Anakin had taken the driver's seat. The rest of them piled in, and then they were flying down the street back to the Naboo Angel. Luke only hoped they would be in time to help defend the little town where he had grown up.
TBC
Sandstorm Part 4
The Naboo Angel glided over the grimy desert city of Mos Eisley and came to a gentle landing on the appointed docking bay. Inside the cockpit, Luke signaled his father that they had arrived and headed for the lounge as Anakin came out of his bedroom, shrugging his brown Jedi robe on over his tan tunic and pants.
Owen and Beru were standing near the doorway, and Owen had the grace to look a bit shame-faced as Anakin approached. The older Jedi pointedly ignored him and watched his son as Luke went to a closet on the left wall, grabbed his own robe, and looked questioningly at him.
"Ready, Father?"
"As I'll ever be."
Anakin left the lounge, walking down the narrow hall to the hatch. Luke started to follow, then glanced back at his guardians. "Are you coming?"
"Yes," Owen hesitated, then said, "I guess maybe I shouldn't have said that back there. I-I'm sorry."
"I'm not the one you should apologize to," Luke answered quietly.
"Yeah, well, maybe," Owen mumbled. He shook his head, and continued, "Look, I don't want you to be worrying about us when you need to be concentrating on your job, so we'll stay with you for now, all right?"
Luke hid his surprise and nodded. It wasn't like Owen to do an about face like he'd just done on the issue of them staying at the farm alone. Either his aunt had managed to talk some sense into his uncle, or he was feeling pretty shaken up about the confrontation. But they didn't have time to discuss the issue further. Luke led the way down the hall to where Anakin was waiting by the open hatchway.
They descended slowly, the Jedi in the lead with Owen and Beru a couple of steps of behind. The mayor of Mos Eisley, a tall, attractive dark-skinned woman was standing near the foot of the ramp. She was dressed in a cream- colored shirt and pants, and a deep blue cloak fell to her ankles. She was surrounded by a small troop of New Republic guards, all of whom came to attention and saluted as the Jedi approached. Their smart navy and gold uniforms were a sharp contrast to the dingy docking bay, although the fine layer of sand covering their boots marred their appearance slightly. But this was Tatooine. Not much could be done about the ubiquitous sand.
"Greetings, Masters Skywalker," the woman bowed her head regally. "I am Azita Chayton, mayor of Mos Eisley. Thank you for coming to our aid."
Anakin and Luke returned her bow, with the Lars copying them a heartbeat later.
Luke introduced his guardians and said, "You're welcome."
His father added. "I only hope that we can help. Negotiating with the Tusken Raiders will not be easy."
Mayor Chayton nodded. "Yes, you're right about that. We've tried compromising with them in the past. We did not succeed."
"Can you tell us more about what's been going on the past few months?" Anakin asked. "More details about the fighting and any plans for a peaceful solution that you've tried?"
She motioned them towards a large gray transport waiting nearby. "Of course. Why don't we talk on the way to my office?" She turned to several of the troops and said, "Please remain here to guard the Jedi's ship until they return."
As they walked toward the transport, she explained. "Things have gotten a little better lately, since many people left to take up farming, but we still have problems with stealing, muggings, and vandalism. I'm sure your ship is protected, but just to be sure, I'll have it guarded."
They climbed in-the Jedi, the mayor, and the Lars in the back, with the rest of the guards in the front. Once they'd settled in and the transport began crawling along the dusty streets towards the office complexes in the heart of the city, Mayor Chayton continued.
"I was appointed mayor five months ago, and it was one month after that when the New Republic arranged the business transactions with Cerea. It seemed like a godsend. People here were getting desperate. It was hard to find enough money just to feed and clothe their families. So as soon as the irrigation systems were set up, people began leaving the cities in droves to take up japor farming."
She sighed. "But almost right away, we began hearing reports about fights with the Tusken Raiders. At first the conflicts were small, but they were always violent. There were losses on both sides, and each death only seemed to make the hatred and the desire for vengeance grow."
"The mayors have had several meetings, trying to figure out a solution. Twice we've attempted to contact the Tuskens, to try to arrange some peaceful agreement with them. The first representative never could find a tribe. The second one was returned to us-in pieces."
"The worst battle was a week ago. Rockridge was a farming community about two days' travel west of Anchorhead. The guard station in Anchorhead picked up some emergency calls from Rockridge in the middle of the night. They could hear screams and rifle shots in the background, but by the time anyone was able to get out there, it was too late. All they found were burned buildings, and bodies. One hundred families, approximately two- thirds of them women and children, were slaughtered."
"That was when we knew we needed help, so we contacted the New Republic, and here you are," she finished evenly.
Anakin bit his lower lip and struggled to release his anger into the Force. He knew this blind rage was wrong for a Jedi, wrong for anyone actually, and he didn't want to tread the fine line near the dark side again-please, Force, no, not that again!
But he was seeing unwanted memories of Shmi, bound, bloodied, and broken. Her voice, so weak and rough from her ordeal at the Tuskens' hands, that it was almost unrecognizable. And they hadn't changed at all. They were still monsters, with no compunction about killing the innocent. How could he not feel anger?
Of course you feel anger. I do, too, but try not to let your anger become personal.From beside him, Luke gave his hand a squeeze. Grandmother is in a better place, let those memories go, and focus on what we need to do now.
Anakin took a deep breath and gave a quick nod as Luke said aloud. "Do you know if the Tuskens are acting individually, or if they've joined forces? Each tribe has a chief, but do you know if there's a leader over all of them?"
Mayor Chayton shook her head. "I'm afraid I can't answer that. We haven't been to communicate with them at all."
Owen and Beru had been quiet so far, but now Owen muttered a curse under his breath and said, "Those monsters don't deserve any compassion. They need to be wiped out, so Tatooine can be safe for all the decent people." And even Beru nodded her agreement.
Luke glanced around at all of them, his own emotions in a turmoil. He believed that all life was precious, and as a Jedi, he knew he had to respect the Tusken Raiders' lives as much as the settlers. But he had to admit that it might not be easy. He had grown up hearing tales of the sandpeople's brutality, had heard of the way they had tortured and killed his grandmother, and it sounded like they were as bloodthirsty as ever.
But the settlers might not completely innocent, either, he reminded himself. They may have committed atrocities in retaliation. It wasn't going to be easy to find a way to end the hostilities.
Looking out the window, he noticed several differences in the town since his last, and only, visit. The buildings were in even worse shape. Many were abandoned, with darkened and broken windows. The streets seemed almost empty, and there were no alien species to be seen. Luke supposed that was because there were fewer off-worlders coming to do business now. Of the people he did see, they were almost all human, with a scattering of jawas and droids, and they all traveled in groups and kept their hands near their blasters.
The transport came to a halt in front of a large white building with a sign proclaiming "Administrative Offices, Mos Eisley" over the doorway. They entered and walked down a sterile hall that seemed in direct contrast to the heat and dust outside to Mayor Chayton's office, a large, comfortably furnished room in the back. A thin young man with auburn hair and green eyes was waiting for them. He wore a light-colored suit that was well- worn, but seemed finely made, and offered them drinks and snack foods when they entered.
"Thank you, Tyee," Mayor Chayton said as they all gratefully helped themselves. "This is Tyee Harun. He's one of my assistants, and we've assigned him to work with you while you're here." She gave Tyee a wry look. "He has a unique perspective on the matter."
Luke, Anakin, Beru, and Owen all looked questioningly at the unassuming young man. He was probably only a few years older than Luke, and seemed completely unprepossessing. He gave them an almost embarrassed smile.
"I speak the language of the Tusken Raiders. I can help you to communicate with them."
"How do you speak their language?" Owen asked while Anakin spoke at the same time. "How? They've never allowed anyone to spend enough time with them to learn their language."
Tyee pursed his lips. "I'm an exception. My parents died when I was a baby, and I was found by a tribe of Tuskens. They adopted me and raised me as one of their own. I lived with them until I was ten."
They gaped at him in astonishment. Finally Luke asked, "What happened when you were ten?"
Tyee looked down at his hands and said quietly. "My tribe was attacked by a rival tribe. All of the members of my clan were killed. My adoptive parents hid me in a nearby cave, and I escaped. Afterward I wandered around in the desert until I collapsed from the heat and dehydration. Some settlers found me and took me in."
A long silence followed his words, as they all digested this bit of information. Luke noticed that in the midst of hearing about all the horrible deeds the Tuskens had done, this piece of news seemed jarringly out of character. Why would Tusken Raiders, who had always been branded as soulless, brutal monsters, spare one baby's life? Not only spare him, but accept him and care for him? It made no sense. Unless perhaps there was more to the Tusken Raiders than they had thought?
Suddenly a loud beep interrupted their musings, and Mayor Chayton reached to switch on a holograph receptor. A small, fuzzy blue image appeared, of a man in a New Republic uniform, and he spoke anxiously.
"Mayor Chayton, I am Lt. Deak Mansi from Anchorhead. A large group of Tusken Raiders has gathered within a few miles of the town, and we fear they will soon attack. Please send reinforcements as soon as possible."
"I'm afraid I can't spare any troops, Lieutenant. But two Jedi Masters have arrived from Coruscant. I will ask them to go to Anchorhead and assist you," Mayor Chayton replied. "Good luck."
"We're on our way," Anakin said. He spun around and headed briskly down the hall, calling back to the mayor, "We'll need to take a speeder back to our ship. That'll be quicker than a transport."
Luke gazed at the empty hologram for just a second. "Deak? A New Republic lieutenant? Who'd have thought..." he shook himself out of his reverie and hurried after his father, with Owen and Beru right behind him.
He glanced over at them, "Uncle Owen, Aunt Beru, I'm sure it would be all right if you-"
His uncle gave him a fierce look. "Don't you dare suggest that I stay here while you take off to fight sandpeople. I have friends in Anchorhead, and I can handle a rifle."
He looked over at his wife, but before he could say anything she added firmly, "I can handle a rifle, too."
Tyee Harun was racing along beside them as well. "You may need someone who can talk with the Tuskens."
There was no more time for discussion. A navy speeder was already idling by the front door, and Anakin had taken the driver's seat. The rest of them piled in, and then they were flying down the street back to the Naboo Angel. Luke only hoped they would be in time to help defend the little town where he had grown up.
TBC