A.N./Sorry about the wait! This would've been uploaded a couple of months ago, but I didn't have internet access and only just got it back today.
Genuinely glad I've kinda gotten the ball rolling with this story. Emphasis on "kinda". I still take months to write a damn chapter. Damn you ADHD! Why must I be so cursed?!
Nah, I actually have it pretty good all things considered.
Chapter 6:Small town, big problem.
A loud thud echoed out as his back impacted the hard sandstone floor of the hangar after another failed bout with Cassus. "Get up."
He groaned softly, but got up regardless. Across from him stood the old Mandalorian, arms raised in a ready stance. This "training" wouldn't be nearly as infuriating if Sarrl wasn't sitting off to the side and laughing at him. Still, he grit his teeth and raised his fists in a ready motion. "Begin!"
He impacted the ground again. "Begin!"
Again. "Begin!"
And again. "Begin!"
And again. "Begin!"
He rushed Cassus and threw a flurry of jabs, only for the old man to grapple his left arm and swing around into a vicious fisted backhand. The blow struck him right between his shoulder blades; sending him chest first into the ground. The sound of Sarrl laughing made red slowly encroach on his vision. With a growl he slammed his right fist onto the floor, causing a small spider web of cracks to form around the point of impact, and he shoved himself up from the ground.
Instead of the quick jabs from before, he instead launched a series of brutal straights. Yet he still couldn't hit Cassus! The old man managed to grapple him again, and sent him crashing with a devastating punch to the sternum. The red in his vision went with the wind that had been knocked out of him, and he wildly slapped at his chest while gasping for air. The deeply ingrained survival instinct forced all his focus on his lack of air causing him to briefly forget his ever growing anger.
He regained his breath, and the rest of the world suddenly existed again.
"You're angry." It was such a simple statement of fact without any form of emotion that it pissed him off more than if he had been insulted.
He coughed a bit when he tried to speak, his lungs still not working quite right. "What an impressive observation."
Cassus smirked. "Sarcastic brat. You were too angry. Your anger had consumed your thoughts and clouded your judgment."
He scoffed. "What is this Jedi crap you're spouting?"
"The same Jetti crap that just kicked you into the dirt for an hour!"
His face morphed into a fierce scowl and he looked away from the old warrior. Who chose that time to speak again. "Don't be a di'kut. Use that brain of yours. You had the Force aiding you. Yet you still lost."
He grit his teeth as the older man rubbed it in, and was about to snap a scathing remark at Cassus, but when he turned to do so and met the older man's eyes; something in the intense look those grey orbs possessed held his tongue. Instead, he thought about what had been said, how his anger at losing only made him lose more. His mouth twitched into a frown. "So, what? You expect me to just stop getting angry?"
"No, that'd be stupid." He was taken aback, having not expected such a blunt response. "Suppressing emotions is one of the worst possible things you can do to yourself. I want you to focus your anger. Give it direction and purpose. Let it drive you to succeed instead of letting it consume you."
With his piece said, Cassus settled into a ready stance.
Don't let it consume him, huh? Slowly, he pulled himself off the ground and moved into a ready stance.
"Begin!" Instead of rushing Cassus he began to slowly circle the older man. The old Mandalorian's wrinkled grey eyes immediately narrowed in caution at his change in strategy, and did the same in turn. He examined Cassus in depth, raking his eyes over every facet of his opponent. While he was sporting a bloody lip and several bruises, Cassus remained almost spotless. The reality of how thoroughly he'd been humiliated caused a familiar red haze to creep on his vision, and the thought of Sarrl mocking him only made it cover his vision faster.
A small smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.
There it is.
He inched forward, slowly entering striking range. The second he entered striking range he lashed out with a lightning quick straight. Instead of grappling him like he had expected, Cassus instead deflected it to the side and struck him in the sternum with a jab. It hurt and made him flinch back instinctively, but he powered through and struck again. Yet again, Cassus deflected. He ramped it up, throwing blow after blow in rapid succession. Each one was deflected with masterful ease by the old warrior.
His mouth twitched into a frown.
He accelerated his strikes more and more. Suddenly, Cassus switched from deflection back to grappling him. The old warrior clamped on his arm like the jaws of a rancor and swung him overhead, crashing into the ground. The impact hurt, but it wasn't crippling. He rolled slightly to the side and briefly curled from the pain. However, that brief moment was enough time for Cassus to deliver a devastating kick to his sternum, sending him into a brief tumble.
Rage blossomed in his mind, no longer was his vision tinted by red, it was drowned in it. It was no normal rage either, he could feel the Dark Side tainting it; trying to control him. The rage was so all encompassing that it made the simple act of thinking difficult, but that hardly mattered when he was able to act off of pure instinct. He arrested his momentum by digging his hand into the ground, carving a short, but deep gouge in the sandstone. The instant he stopped moving, the Force flooded his body and empowered it to inhuman levels. He rocketed forwards with speed unrivaled towards his opponent.
Mid stride he forced every last piece of will he possessed on the rage encroaching on his psyche. He will not be a slave to anyone or anything ever again! Not even his own emotions.
His vision cleared of haze, but the tint of red was still faintly there, and the world seemed to be almost moving at a crawl. With the haze gone he was able to think clearly once more. Before him stood Cassus in the beginnings of a dodge with his own fist mere centimeters from caving in the old man's helmet. His eyes widened when he realized what he was doing.
Force Speed.
He'd briefly learned of the technique under Vader's tutelage, but never had the time to learn it. He'd been too focused on his blade forms, lightning, and telekinesis. The increased speed the technique granted not only enabled him to perceive and react to the world along with the entities around him in slow motion, letting him dodge attacks easily and attack far more quickly with greater accuracy.
Before he could get too excited at the new technique he first had to focus on not killing Cassus.
His right arm snapped out, hand no longer formed into a fist, and clamped down on Cassus's wrist like a vice. He twisted his body with inhuman agility and strength; bringing himself and the arm he gripped behind Cassus's back. With a telekinetic shove he shot down and forwards with all his weight; bringing Cassus crashing down into a pin.
"Ack!" Cassus hacked and coughed from the blow.
"Yield."
The old warrior struggled briefly before giving up. "Fine, I yield."
He smiled, let go of Cassus, and promptly collapsed on his back; gasping for air the whole time.
"Cassus really worked you over."
He looked over his shoulder, wincing oh so slightly from the pain shooting through his body, to see Varra leaning with her arms crossed in the doorway to his room. She was still dressed in her casual clothes, a loose crop top under a thin sleeveless vest, fingerless gloves, somewhat baggy pants with several large pockets, and heeled boots. All in all, a very different look compared to how she looks in armor or the dirty jumpsuit and tank top she uses to work on the Respite.
One look at the smirk adorning her lips and he knew she wanted something. Letting out an annoyed grunt he turned back to tending his rather minor wounds.
"Oh c'mon! Don't be like that, hotstuff."
"What do you want, Varra?"
"Why don't you turn around and find out?" He hissed in pain when he poked a particularly nasty bruise on his chest, and gingerly applied a bacta salve.
"Oh for the love of-!" She stormed in front of him and held out a jacket.
He blinked once then a second time, and looked at her smiling face. "Is that my jacket?"
Indeed, before him stood Varra holding his old jacket that he wore when he worked for Vader. But instead of having only one sleeve like he expected, it looked like it had never been slashed with a lightsaber. His aches long forgotten, he looked at her face to see a smug smile painted across her lips.
"Did you fix my jacket?"
"Yep!" She handed it to him, and he gingerly took it in his hands, a flurry of emotions running through him. He looked to his hands and felt its sturdy but flexible fabric beneath his fingers thinking about what it's seen him through. The jacket had been with him for a few years now, at first it was so baggy that he could barely wear it, but as he grew it fit him better and better. It saw him through that horrid incident with the skyscraper on Taris, and the tortuous training of Vader. It actually meant a lot to him to have it back, even if he didn't plan to wear it on this planet.
"Thank you, Varra." He looked into her oddly alluring eyes. "I mean it."
"Ah, well maybe you can pay me back sometime with dinner." Dinner? That's a cheap price to pay.
"Sure."
She recoiled slightly, blinking rapidly in surprise before suddenly shifting into blatant excitement. "Really?"
Although suspicious of her excited tone, he shrugged in acquiescence. "I don't see why not."
She beamed at him, leaned down, and pecked him on the lips. Looking him straight in the eyes, she winked.
"See you then hotstuff." He stared blankly ahead as Varra sashayed out of the room, and continued to do so for some time.
"What the hell just happened?"
The trip was honestly boring and full of the typical pre-mission tension. Nothing but sand in every direction, and the boiling hot suns bearing down on them. So when they came to a stop after an hour of travel it was downright relieving. Now he's lying on a dune staring at a bunch of ruined buildings with sand everywhere in his blasted clothes.
"See anything?"
"Nope."
"How about now?"
"Slate, if you ask me that again. I will shoot you." Although, annoying Sarrl has helped pass the time.
"Shut it, both of you." Cassus didn't seem to enjoy it nearly as much as he did. "Sarrl, check infrared."
"In the middle of the desert?"
"Just do it!" Cassus snapped.
Sarrl huffed and pressed a button on the side of his helmet. That's when something strange happened. Sarrl froze, and pressed the button again.
And again.
And again.
"Yeah, uh there's no water down there."
Him and Cassus shared a look before turning back to the resident sniper. "How can you tell?"
"The containers are showing up as hot on infrared, which wouldn't be possible if they were full. They'd instead show up as cool at most, unless they had some bizarre thermal coating to spoof thermals, but I don't see why they would." Sarrl explained.
"Well, if it was raided, then the containers being empty makes sense right?"
Sarrl shook his head. "Not for the timeframe. If it were truly Tuskens then this raid wouldn't be possible. Not only would they not have the numbers to pull it off, but they also wouldn't have been able to take all of the water before we got here. They simply don't have the ability to do it."
"How'd you figure genius?" Varra chimed in.
Sarrl snappishly turned to Varra. "Did you forget I'm from this sand ball?"
"…maybe." Her reply was rather meek, if not a bit dismissive.
"Riiight." Sarrl drawled. "Anyway, whatever did this wasn't Tuskens, it was something else."
"Like what?" He asked sarcastically. "Jawas?"
"You little-!" Sarrl started.
"Enough!" Cassus hissed. "Is anything alive down there?"
"Nothing bigger than a womp rat. You see anything, Kane?"
"Nope."
"Could be a local cell of those rebels that've been the talk of the holonet." Varra suggested.
They all fell into a brief moment of silence as Cassus sat deep in thought.
"Sarrl, remain here and provide overwatch. We're going down there." Cassus vaulted over the top of the dune, and started sliding down the steep slope of sand. Varra and Kane followed a heartbeat later, and he only a blink of an eye after that. The loose hot sand parted easily and allowed the four of them to slide all the way down to the bottom of the dune with little complication.
"Ah! Blasted sand!" The only complication was how easily it seemed to get into his clothes.
He glared balefully when Cassus chuckled lightly at his misfortune. Grunting, he stomped off towards the blasted settlement. As he marched through the sand the blazing heat of the sun seemed to become even more heavy and overbearing. Taking a deep breath, he let the force flow through him, relieving much of his discomfort from the heat.
However it did little to lessen the discomfort he felt walking into the empty settlement.
The breeze howled slightly as it passed through the many empty alleyways and streets, creating a far more eerie feeling than he was used to. Stalls lay empty, their contents lay strewn across the ground in no discernible manner. "No signs of battle… yet."
He saw Varra nod slightly in his peripherals. "It's strange." She turned to him. "You would think we would've seen something by now."
Kane's voice rang out. "Something like that?"
He and Varra whipped around, weapons at the ready only to lower them upon seeing the swathe of destroyed buildings, reduced to little more than rubble.
"Whoa." He looked at Varra oddly before he remembered that not everyone is used to seeing buildings reduced to rubble like he was. With only a few strides he was on top of the nearest pile of rubble. While it retained enough of its previous shape for him to tell it was a house, it had a few odd features for a bunch of debris. He knelt down trying to discern exactly what it was he found.
Varra knelt next to him. "What is it?" Frowning, he tapped the side of his helmet to activate his Commlink. "Hey Sarrl?"
"Yeah, what is it?"
"I'm going to send a picture to your HUD, think you can identify what I found?" Two more buttons pushes and the picture was sent.
"Hold one." There was a very brief pause as Sarrl looked over what he sent. "Sithspit! That's a Krayt Dragon track! A big one too!"
His brows furrowed. "Krayt Dragon?"
"It's one of the deadliest creatures in the galaxy." Cassus supplied. "It would be a worthy beast to hunt…"
As Cassus lost himself briefly in some fantasy, he recontacted Sarrl. "Anything in particular I should be looking for then?"
"Is there a second set of tracks?" With how urgent Sarrl sounded, he wasted no time in searching. It didn't take more than a couple twists of the neck to locate what Sarrl asked for.
"Yeah, slightly smaller though."
"Son of a-! Alright, it's pretty clear what happened here, a mated pair of Krayt dragons wandered into town and killed everyone."
"What about the water?" Varra asked, which was a good point. He doubted a couple of animals emptied all those tanks.
"Great question. I don't know, and I don't care." He rolled his eyes at Varra, mimicking a talking motion with his hand to mock Sarrl. Varra giggled slightly, and he smiled. However, a sharp glare from Cassus caused the both of them to go still. "What I do know is that you guys need to get out of there. Now. The tower in the center of town, do you see it?"
"We see it Sarrl." He eased off the conversation now that Cassus decided to take a leading role again.
"Good. Krayt Dragons aren't natural climbers, they might give it a try, but will give up if they fail. Food and water is too scarce on this sand heap for them to waste energy on prey they can't reach. So that tower is the likeliest place for survivors to be." Sarrl explained.
"Roger that." Cassus looked at him and Varra. "Go scout it. Quietly."
While Varra gave a verbal acknowledgement of "yes boss" before running off, he opted to only nod silently, and quickly followed her around the corner of the building.
It was only now that they were moving deeper into the settlement that allowed them to see the devastation Mos Isla went through. Many of its buildings seemed to have been crushed underfoot during the two Krayt Dragons rampage. Occasionally he spotted blast marks on some of the intact buildings and blood stained debris; painting a scene of a true massacre. While it seems the residents of Mos Isla attempted to at least try and fight off the dragons, it's clear from both Sarrl's words and the state of the settlement that it was a futile effort.
Rounding one last corner, he and Varra were now only a dozen or so meters from the tower at the center of Mos Isla. Coming to a stop with him closely following behind, she ducked behind the remains of a market stall and motioned quietly for him to do the same.
"Something's not right." She whispered.
"What do you mean?" He asked, voice also kept low.
"I'm not quite sure… the plaza just looks off." He frowned, and looked around. She was right. Something was wrong here, and the more he looked the more The Force gave off feelings of foreboding. That's when he realized just how clean and intact the plaza was. There was almost no sign that anything happened at all. He scanned the roofs and the alleys for motion. Nothing.
"Wait here." He quietly called back as he left his concealment and walked out into the plaza.
"What are you doing?!" Her yelling whisper didn't slow him down. Nor did the excessive cursing that followed him ignoring her call.
Slowly, he made his way to the center of the plaza and stopped right in the middle. He scanned the rooftops with hyper focus, searching for any sign of movement, all while feeling an ever growing sense of wrongness from all around him. As if he was missing some crucial piece to the puzzle of Mos Isla. When nothing happened, he turned and gave Varra a light shrug. "There's nothing here."
She marched out of her concealment and poked a finger into his breastplate. "If I didn't think you were hot I'd beat you senseless for being so reckless."
Taken aback a little at how angry she felt, and flushing slightly in embarrassment, all he could do was offer an awkward apology. "Uh sorry."
She huffed. "Make sure it doesn't happen again."
He nodded slowly as she moved past him, not sure what else to do. "Let's get to that tower."
"Right behind you."
They crept towards the tower at the end of the plaza, heads swiveling back and forth the whole time, but nothing ever showed. He reached the door and placed a hand on it while Varra spun around to cover their backs, just in case. He slowly pushed the very out of place hinge door open, blaster at the ready. Only to be greeted by an empty room with a bloodstained floor and walls. "Room's empty."
He fully entered the room, followed quickly by Varra, who made a gagging sound at seeing the state of the room. "I thought you said it was empty."
He looked at her confused. "It… is?"
She, in turn, gave him an indiscernible look from under her helmet. "Right~. Stay here and guard the door, your rifle won't do you much good in the tight halls. I'll go and clear the rest of the building."
He nodded and aimed his rifle outside the open door. She disappeared up the stairs, only to come back down a measly five minutes later. He looked over, only to see her hunched over, seemingly winded.
"Nothing." She panted a little, trying to regain her breath. "Just a bunch of empty bloodstained rooms."
He frowned, that's weird. "Can Krayt dragons even fit in here?"
She shrugged. "Maybe young ones?"
"Errr… right." He pressed two fingers to the side of his helmet, activating the inbuilt commlink. "Hey Cassus?"
"I read you. What's the status on that tower?"
"The tower's clear, but it's got bloodstains all over the insides."
Cassus went silent. "Did you say inside?"
"I repeat, bloodstains on the inside of the building. Varra thinks it could be from young dragons getting in and feeding."
Cassus went silent for a moment again. "Sarrl says that's impossible. Something about how they don't travel with their young or some crap."
"Noted. What's your ETA?"
"Ten minutes."
"Roger that. We'll hunker down and await your arrival."
"Good. Cassus out."
"Alright so-" He turned to Varra, only to see her looking at him expectantly standing with her hand resting on a cocked hip. "What?"
"Ohhh nothing~." She drawled. "I just think you're so cute when you try to be in charge of me."
He sputtered and flushed, trying to desperately regain his composure, and understand exactly what Varra meant as she laughed. "Relax. I'm just teasing~."
He took a deep breath and let out a frustrated sigh. Cassus couldn't possibly arrive fast enough.
Although Cassus, Kane, and Sarrl arrived quickly. It was by no means fast enough to save him from Varra's incessant teasing. "Lovely place you have here."
"Shut up Sarrl." Snapped Cassus. "Get to the top and secure overwatch."
Sarrl raised his hands in surrender and jogged off.
Cassus then turned to him. "You go with him, it'll be dark soon and you two get first watch."
A small sigh left his mouth, but his time with Vader taught him better than to complain. He moved after Sarrl, and climbed the stairs to the top of the twenty meter tall tower. By the time he'd gotten to the top, not that he was trying particularly hard, Sarrl had already set up a rather cozy looking snipers nest. The "top floor" wasn't much, a bunch of pillars supporting a roof, but it provided an excellent vantage point.
Sarrl jerked his head to the opposite side of the room. "Set up over there. I've got this side covered."
He grunted in acknowledgment and laid down on the cool sandstone surface. Reaching behind his back, he grabbed his small pack off his back and set it up as a makeshift support for his barrel. Adjusting slightly for comfort, he was all set up for sentry duty.
That's all he did for hours. Stare out at the barren dunes for any movement, until his patience finally wore down and he broke the silence. "Since you already know my "troubled past" as you put it, mind sharing yours?"
Sarrl stayed silent for a minute before sighing slightly. "Alright, fine. Was getting bored anyway… I'm a bit like you actually, ex-imperial."
He raised a curious brow, but said nothing. "Born on this wretched sand ball to a moisture farmer and a whore he'd fallen in love with. It wasn't easy growing up the son of a whore, but it wasn't all bad. My father's harvest made sure we never went thirsty, and it also made sure we were always well fed."
"Must've been nice." He remarked. He couldn't see Sarrl, but he could feel the forlorn Sarrl felt through the Force.
"It was." Sarrl paused for a moment, reminiscing on times long past. The sharpshooter shook himself free of the memories and continued the tale. "Anyway, that all came to an end when sand people raided the farm. Pa had been killed almost immediately, and mom… mom was injured badly. We survived until after the raid, but mom ended up dying shortly after."
There was a slight tightness in his chest from hearing that answer. It confused him. The feeling was completely foreign, with only him learning of Vader's betrayal coming close to feeling similar. "What was she like?" He eventually asked.
"Kind." Sarrl immediately answered. "She was also beautiful, but oh man was she strict. She nearly deafened me from how loud she had scolded me for bringing home a baby womp rat."
He snorted at the thought.
"Yeah, mom was something else." Sarrl remarked wryly.
Yeah… she certainly sounded like it. It got him thinking about his parents and what they might've been like. "I wonder what my mother was like…"
"You never met her?"
He shook his head slightly. "No, the closest comparison I can give is the nanny droid Vader used to care for me in his absence, and it wasn't around for very long."
"Maybe you'll meet your mother one day, galaxy is a big place after all."
He scoffed. "Doubt it. My parents were likely killed by Vader when he found me."
"That's not so bad." The short sniper remarked. "It means you weren't too attached to them when you lost them."
He let out a dark laugh at the words of the marksman. "I suppose that's a good way to look at it."
Sarrl turned from his nest to stare at him breifly. "It's actually not a good way to look at it."
"It's not?" He asked, genuinely curious.
"No." Sarrl shook his head slightly. "If anything, it's an almost sociopathic way to look at it. I was joking about it not being so bad."
"Sociopathic?" He asked.
"It means lacking empathy."
He paused. Empathy? He's never heard that word before. "What's empathy?"
Sarrl stared at him and unconsciously projected feelings of disbelief through the Force. "Right, Sith assassin since childhood. Erm… empathy is understanding and imagining what someone else thinks or feels."
He pondered on that for a moment. The concept sounded pretty simple, especially with how the Force works. "I think I can empathize with people."
"Riiiiiiiiiiiight…" Sarrl drawled, not at all sounding like he believed a word of what he said. "Anyway, where was I?"
"Your mother passed away."
"Oh right." Sarrl cleared his throat. "Mom and pa were both dead and I didn't have anything left. The only bright side was that I had been old enough to sign up for the military."
"You volunteered?"
"Yep." Sarrl nodded. "Walked right up to the recruiter and told him to sign me up for the stormtrooper corps."
He started slightly in surprise. "You were a stormtrooper?"
Sarrl barked out a quiet laugh. "Not quite. I managed to distinguish myself during target practice and was transferred to the scouts."
This time he actually turned from his scope in surprise. Sarrl had been a scout trooper? That's… beyond surprising. There are few groups within the Empire as renowned as the stormtrooper corps elite scout troopers. Each and every one of them was among the best marksmen in the galaxy, only surpassed by the little known storm commandos. "I had no idea."
"Did you think my incredible skill with a sniper was just dumb luck?"
Well, now that he put it like that, it seemed rather easy to put together. "Yes actually, I did."
Sarrl laughed heartily. "You wound me."
He shrugged and turned back to his scope. "Just speaking the truth."
He heard a snort from the shorter man. "Cheeky brat."
He chuckled lowly. "Explains how you made that shot the other day."
"How'd you know it was me?"
"As much as it pains me to admit it. You are by far the best shot I've ever seen."
"Awww, thanks buddy!"
"Shove it up your exhaust port." He snapped back, although it lacked any real heat.
Sarrl laughed. "Anyway, joining the military gave me direction and purpose. It helped distract me from my parents' deaths. I eventually ended up in a unit with some pompous son of a Moff. The arrogant piece of bantha poodoo absolutely hated being in the same unit as a lowly farmer. He made my life hell. Wrecked my stuff at the barracks, made sure my superior hated me, and sabotaged my gear. I can say with a hundred percent surety that I hate the sand people less than I hate that man."
Wow, Sarrl really hated his squad mate. He's a little surprised the shorter of the two didn't just blast him.
"I endured it." The marksman continued. "Until the sniveling little wretch finally got the hint I wasn't going anywhere. That's when it got a little better for a time. Right up until two stormtroopers dragged me out of my bed and threw me in a cell. Next thing I knew; I was court martialed and dishonorably discharged for a crime I didn't commit."
He gaped in disbelief. "He set you up?"
Sarrl nodded. "Yeah. Did some digging after the fact, and learned it was all organized by his father."
"But… why?" He couldn't wrap his mind around it. It just didn't make sense. Stormtroopers aren't Sith, they have no reason to betray each other. They're supposed to be ordered and structured troops, not a bunch of backstabbers.
"What do you mean?"
"You were a loyal soldier of the Empire." He explained. "Why would he turn on you like that?"
"Because he hated me." Sarrl said simply. That's it? That's all it took for loyal troops of the Empire to turn on each other? No other reason? No actual reason? He won't believe it-couldn't believe it!
"There has to be more to it." He insisted.
The former scout trooper grunted slightly in annoyance. "Deal with it. It's not my fault the corruption in the Empire doesn't fit in with your worldview."
He suppressed the violent urge to crush Sarrl's head with the Force, and took a deep breath. Killing him won't change anything, and will only make his life more difficult. No, better to bear with it for now. "What happened next?"
Sarrl shrugged again. "Traveled, drank, and gambled in shooting competitions to make money. Challenged Cassus in one of those and won, if only barely. He was impressed and offered me a job. The rest is history."
"Does Cassus make a habit of picking up skilled outcasts with nowhere to go?"
Sarrl laughed lightly. "He probably get his rocks off from it. Now, get comfy. This'll be a long watch now that it's night."
His earlier anger cooled somewhat and his head bobbed in acknowledgment. He scanned the dark dunes and stilled when he saw something move. "Movement. Bearing two two seven."
Sarrl immediately got up from his position and moved over next to him. "Where?"
He gestured with his rifle. "Right by that big dune."
"Hold on." Sarrl fiddled with the optic on his helmet, adjusting its zoom and focus. "I see them. Two Tuskens. Likely scouts from a nearby tribe. Probably trying to see if this place is worth picking over for supplies."
"Anything else?"
"No." Well that's… wait a second.
"No banthas?"
Sarrl remained quiet for a moment, likely trying to spot the aforementioned banthas. "No. There isn't. Odd."
He mulled that over for a minute. "Do you think we should check it out?"
"Definitely." They quickly grabbed what gear they needed and ran down the stairs. When they reached the bottom he walked up to Kane and gave him a kick in the side; startling the Chiss medic awake.
"Wha?!"
He felt a small amount of sadistic amusement at the startled and confused expression on Kane's face. "We'll be right back, keep an eye out."
"What?"
He didn't bother saying anything else and ran out the door after Sarrl.
They had followed the two Tuskens, hoping to find a small camp of some form, but they had instead found something much worse. "Still think sand people aren't dangerous."
No. In fact he didn't still think that. It's hard to think the sand people aren't dangerous when you're looking at an army of over a thousand of them from atop a dune the size of a small mountain. "Weren't you the one who said the Tusken General was a myth made up by the fearful and stupid?"
"No." Sarrl drawled sarcastically. "That was the postal guy. C'mon, get your facts straight."
"Alright wiseguy. Next you'll say the two obviously tamed giant lizards are a mirage!" He snapped.
"Of course they are! Maybe they'll disappear if you run at them." He rolled his eyes and scanned the vast swathes of makeshift shelters. He couldn't give an accurate number, but there could be upwards of around five thousand raiders uncountable… hunting lizard things, various salvaged speeders and supply crates, and two absolutely massive Krayt Dragons. How these savages managed to tame them was completely beyond him, but that was irrelevant in comparison to what was quickly apparent as the horde's next target.
Mos Espa.
"Look at the large tent by the Krayt Dragons." He did as told and readjusted his scope. "See 'em?"
"Yeah." He muttered. "I see them."
Three uniquely dressed Tuskens stood outside the large tent, gesturing vaguely at the arrayed Tusken army. The first was rather atypical for a Tusken, wielding a strange looking cycler rifle, and wearing a more armored outfit adorned in animal skulls. The second was rather peculiar, looking, not too different from a standard sand savage but had a bandolier of grenades across its chest and was dual wielding a bisected gaffi stick. The third, however, had what looked like a leather chest piece and a lightsaber on each hip.
"Jedi." He hissed at a volume so low only he could hear it.
There was little time to ponder this revelation as an alarm call rang out and the camp quickly mobilized.
"We should go now." Sarrl deadpanned.
"Already moving."
A.N./I'm not a good writer, and this chapter frustrates me immensely. Partially because I'm a stubborn idiot who has difficulty thinking outside the box when I already have an idea, but also because I'm lazy and forget details. It's stilted and clunky, but it advances the plot. So, it's probably the best you'll get from me, a shitty one man writing team.
Also, went back and tweaked chapter one and chapter four. Removed some shitty bits, slightly adjusted punctuation, and added a couple lines to make 'em less bad. They're at the point where I no longer have any plans to adjust ch 1-4. If someone points out a flaw, I will fix it, but otherwise that's it.
Peace muh dudes!