Gorman and Suuvarsh carried the corpse off the ship once we reached the LZ. Better to get rid of it fast than let it stink up the ship. The rest of us followed them out to let the ship air out for a bit. Once outside on the black sand desert, the planning began.
Gorman and the Ubese came back after tossing the body behind a large boulder. Suuvarsh began with something I couldn't understand. It elicited a response from Terran, who exclaimed "You want us to go native, are you kidding me?!"
Palscho piped up. "What else are we supposed to do Terran? Our only lead is the Ibhaan'l tribe."
"Well we can't go back to the spaceport either." Irkchik said.
Munshaan shook his head. "Even if this supposed tribe can help, how do we find them?"
On a world like this, any native tribe would be nomadic. Resources were scarce, it only made sense to keep moving. I looked off in the direction where Gorman and Suuvarsh had tossed the body. Off in the distance, I could make out…something. People? Animals? Gorman noticed my lack of interest in the conversation and spoke.
"Fett, you see something?"
I said nothing. I turned back around to face my fellows. "We don't have much choice. I say we-"
Terran lost his cool and came at me. "Who put YOU in charge, Fett?!"
Once the fool came within striking distance, I grabbed his collar and headbutted him, smashing my helmet into his skull. Still holding onto him, I launched my right knee into his gut, then tossed him aside. "I don't see you coming up with any ideas, di'kut."
Irkchik held back a laugh, as Terran's buddy Munshaan knelt next to him to help him up. Terran sneered angrily at me. "This isn't over Fett!"
I rolled my eyes behind the visor and looked to everybody else. "Ideas are welcome." I said to the group. Despite what aruetiise thought of Mandalorians, we were surprisingly democratic in some respects. At least when it came to military planning. Our best commanders in the past had always opened up the floor to others, to listen to other ideas and come up with sound battle plans. The final decision of course rested with commanders, but the point was, everyone's opinion was welcome. During that short reminisce, I suddenly felt those old feelings again for a moment…loss, despair. I sucked it up and carried on.
"Probably our only option at this point is finding this tribe. What did you see Fett?" Irkchik asked.
I looked back, used my visor to zoom in. Did I spot pack animals and riders? "A caravan. Let's talk to them."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Eventually, the group I had spotted off in the distance came within shooting range. We kept our weapons holstered though. We weren't looking for a fight. As they came closer, their pace slowed done. Eventually they came to a halt. It was a curious sight, coming face to face with the tribesmen. They rode large, four legged creatures called Druyza – I had seen cousins of the creatures on other desert worlds in years past. While some of the caravan rode the creatures, others loaded the animals up with cargo and led them along with a leash. The tribesmen themselves looked like the infamous Sand People of Tatooine. These men, however, weren't roving barbarians. They wore thin white cloth as robes, and the trim of the cloth was adorned with colorful patterns of gold, blue, green, purple, and orange.
It was safe to say, being traders, they had acquired colored dye and threads from smugglers who were passing through Socorro on their way to their next stop. Their headwraps, meant to shield their face from the blistering sun, were also plain white. A headdress, circling around their forehead to keep the headwrap from falling away, was worn by many of them as well. The headresses came in green, with black, white, and orange threads penetrating throughout to give the piece a more colorful look. Their belts, meanwhile, were made of animal hide, probably skinned from local wildlife.
Lastly, they were all armed with blasters of various types. Long rifles, pistols, or sub-machine guns. They were no fool to the dangers of this world, and had taken necessary precautions. Not surprisingly, some of them had their hands on their holstered weapons as they spotted us. Palscho walked towards them, with his hands up in a "don't shoot" fashion. The rest of us held back, also favoring our weapons in case this got ugly.
"We aren't here to rob you. We need your help." Palscho began. The caravaneers looked at each other, and spoke in their native tongue. They were either conversing about what to do, or they didn't understand Galactic Basic. How would they have been trading with off-worlders if they didn't know Basic though?
Our answer hopped off one of the Druyza and approached Palscho. He removed his headwrap, revealing himself as a human. Tan skinned, and oddly pointy ears. Correction, Near-Human of some sort. He spoke. "I can speak for these natives." He began. A small animal, which looked like a mini-krayt dragon, flew off the man's mount and landed on his shoulder. "Ah, and this is Ceylor. Say hi, Ceylor."
The little mini-krayt growled out an oddly charming 'caw.' Palscho, perplexed for a moment, shook his head and continued. "We need your help looking for someone. An associate told us the Ibhaan'l tribe could help us locate him."
The man nodded. "Well, we are the Ibhaan'l, but we're not trackers."
Palscho asked, "They're Ibhaan'l, but what are you?"
To this, the man laughed a little. He turned to the tribesmen, and said something in their native language. They had begun laughing at whatever he said. Clearly we were making asses out of ourselves. For the moment, I let Palscho keep doing the talking.
"I'm glad we could be of amusement."
"Ha, don't worry about it. All off-worlders say the same thing to me. Who do you seek, Ithorian?" The man replied. His mini-krayt, still perched on his shoulder, looked stern and unwavering, like a little guardian.
Palscho pointed back at us. "My associates and I are looking for a Mandalorian warrior, Cassus Fett."
To this, the man raised his brows, impressed…Or he knew where Cassus was and was apprehensive. He glanced at me, then back to Palscho. "Something personal, I take it?"
"No. Business." Palscho said back
During this whole exchange, I had kept my eye on the caravan, in case they tried to pull something fishy. They, too, were keeping their eyes on us. Neither side trusted the other…but then, neither side wanted a fight either. Palscho's new friend turned to say something to his people in their native tongue, and after some words, I could see the natives were okay with us.
"We will help you. We will take you to our village in the north, where the Ibhaan'l elders can point you in the direction of this 'Fett.'"
"So you know where he is?"
"Me? No. But the Ibhaan'l know this planet, and they know of the tribe he lives with. Come, we will show you. By the way, name is Trien Ni'Kaas." He replied. Trien put his headwrap back on, while his mini-krayt flew off to land back on his mount. He waved us over to the rest of the caravan. The Ibhaan'l tribesmen, strangely kind, offered us Druyza mounts to ride.
One of the tribes offered me a mount, but I shook my head. I'd walk. I wasn't completely happy with this arrangement. I didn't want to speak to their geriatric leaders, I just wanted to find Cassus and get this over with. But for the sake of the mission, I went along with it. Can't always get what you want.