Tatooine
Deep in the desert, the Tusken Raiders stirred in camp. Night had fallen and the massive tribe had set up a temporary encampment. Tuskens gathered around several large bonfires, communicating with each other, and trading stories about hunts, childhood, and their exploits. A shaman told stories to youth about monsters in the dark that came at night. Another told warriors about the great hunts of Krayt Dragons and rancors. A bantha bellowed in the distance, and two sentries cried excitedly, alerting the tribe that another group arrived at their encampment. Their wrappings signified they were of a different tribe. Silence overtook the camp, as all watched the anticipated move.
The chieftain of the camped tribe came out of his tent, taking in the new scene. He approached the lead bantha, the other chieftain atop it. Moving off his steed, the newly arrived chieftain stood before his counterpart, staff in hand and his sand robes signifying his old age, wisdom, and respect. The two locked eyes between their masks. The tension was thick, but many already knew what the outcome would be. Yet it was not set in stone. Yet.
After the staredown, the newly arrived chieftain bent his knee in recognition of his younger counterpart. The younger Tusken accepted this and helped raise the elderly chieftain to his feet. Tuskens roared in delight, shaking their gaffi sticks over their head as they celebrated the joyous union of the tribes. This was the most recent one to join the herd on their journey.
The Grand Chieftain turned to his shaman advisor and nodded, allowing the slaughter of a bantha to be celebrated. As the Tuskens took to their celebrations. he returned to his tent briskly, turning up a cloud of sand as he did so. Upon entering his private quarters, he sat down on the rough sand, leaning forward to blow life back into a candle. A'Sharad Hett called upon the force to slowly levitate his two sabers in the air, the metal components slowly moving, but the kyber crystal almost twisted, with unseen tension.
The former Jedi Master entered his meditative stance again, focusing on the Force, looking for any sign that would give him reassurance that what he was doing was right. Memories came back in small flashes, but enough to make him grimace and grit his teeth. His father dying at the hands of Aurra Sing, his padawan perishing during the Clone Wars, his clone troopers turning on him, the fall of the Order, and the rise of the Empire. The Force would constantly remind him of the past. The images played over, again and again. A'Sharad tightened his fist and heard a click. Opening his eyes, A'Sharad looked at his sabers, which floated before him. He reached out and activated them, staring into the emerald blades that shot out. Then he placed them on the ground and began the process again.
And again.
And again.
Each time he reminded himself of what he had lost, and what he was going to gain.
The tribe walked for miles, making their presence known. Some farmers hid in their homes, others tried to attack and were killed. More and more tribes pledged allegiance to Grand Chieftain. They assembled before him. When once he led tens of Tusken Raiders, now he led hundreds. They traveled the barren desert, rallying more and more. The Dune Sea was massive and they encountered many creatures and people. Beasts, farmers, lost bounty hunters, spice runners, and explorers. Some ran away in fright and A'Sharad had the tribe stay their hand. Unless they attacked. Then the fury of the war tribe descended upon their assailants like a sandstorm shredding a womp rat.
They kept marching, towards that wretched palace.
A'Sharad stood before his tribes. They all stood in eager expectation, waiting for their leader to address them. The campfire crackled in the silence.
"Brothers, sisters, we gather here today to strike back. To reclaim the land that was lost to us. For too long have we been aliens in our own deserts. For too long have we dealt with Jabba as a Lord when he is simply an intruder. The Hutts do not have a claim to these sands. They are ours! We have been treated like animals, with bounties put on our heads! We have been forced deeper into the sands, yet with no respect. Offworlders come down here and impose their rule on us! No more! The Twin Suns shall be liberated. Tomorrow, we strike at the heart of Jabba. We will cut down every member of scum and decay in that palace, and the people of the planet, those who tread amongst the stars will know that the Tusken Raiders restore their claim to these lands!"
Hett raised his hand and ignited his lightsaber, the green blade racing forth and shining brightly. Roars cried out and drums were beating. The Tusken were ready for war. Nothing would stop them from taking what was rightfully their's.
Jabba's Palace, Hangar Bay
Durge tossed a pile of credits to the Jawa that operated the fuel station in Jabba's hangar. He always despised being in the Hutt's palace. It wasn't that he felt uneasy or it made him question his line of work. It was simply that he couldn't stand Jabba the Hutt one bit. The money was good, but the jobs were boring. Ever since the fall of the Republic, Durge had found bounties getting more and more boring. From hunting Jedi for the Empire or eliminating rivals for Senators, it was more common for the Hutts to place bounties for those who had failed to pay back a loan or had crossed them. It was always a catch-and-bring-back kind of bounty. But the money was good.
Steam hissed and other jawas detached cables from the ship as Durge walked up the ramp of his Fondor-Haulcraft fighter, running a full systems diagnostics as he did so. A door opened with a hiss and he placed his massive carbine on the rack with other weapons. He lowered himself into the captain's seat, turning on the engines. Wasting no time, Durge raced out of the hangar.
The years had not been kind to Durge. He had suffered a defeat at the hands of Skywalker and Kenobi. Skywalker had trapped him in an escape pod and launched him towards the sun. By a stroke of luck, Durge's direction was changed. In his haste to escape the exploding ship and find his master, Skywalker had relied on the escape pod itself, rather than using the Force to guide it. Durge went past the sun and shot off into space, drifting for months. Eventually, scavengers found his pod, which resulted in Durge relieving them of their ship. It was then he learned of the Republic's fall and the Empire's rise. With his reputation damaged and other bounty hunters rising up, Durge had a lot of work to do. Young hunters were eager to take a crack at him or steal a kill from him.
As Durge began his ascent, something caught the corner of his eye. He looked down and saw a massive tribe of Tusken Raiders approaching the palace. His comlink blinked. Figuring it had something to do with the Raiders below, he ignored it. Durge believed he had better things to do than deal with some angry Tuskens.
If he only knew a Jedi was down there.
Jabba let out a hearty laugh as the Weequay was devoured by the rancor below. Music kept playing and the liquor was flouring in everyone's cup. Gamorrean guards stood by, watching the crowd engage in their usual activities.
Reaching into his bowl of 'snacks' and tossing the frog into his mouth, Jabba observed his court. Loyal bounty hunters exchanged tales and secrets of the trade, looking for a lead on their hunt. Smugglers discussed the next route to avoid the Empire, or rival gangs, and some locals engaged with each other. Another fine day in Jabba's court. Another day to grow fat and indulge himself on his every whim. Jabba was about to announce a new bounty for a potential up-and-coming hotshot, but before he could, Bib Fortuna raced into the court, panting, fresh blaster holes in his cloak. The pudgy Twi'liek was babbling and couldn't get a coherent word out.
Jabba growled and glared at his advisor. This had better be important Fortuna. I have half a mind to feed you to the rancor for your insolence!"
"Tusken Raiders!" Bib blubbered out, collapsing to his knees. "Tusken Raiders have attacked us, mighty Jabba! We are under siege! A Jedi leads them!"
Hett walked calmly, as Tusken warriors raced past him. The guards outside the gate were quickly overwhelmed, either getting picked off by bolt rifles or swarmed by Tuskens who advanced. The sound of blaster fire riddled the land, as Jabba's guard desperately tried to fend off the attackers. They were completely caught off guard. No one expected the Tuskens to rally and attack Jabba.
The guards at the gate were slaughtered. The tuskens roared in glory, ready for more action. Flaps flew open and turrets appeared from unsuspecting panels and mowed them down. Those not caught in the hail of bolts dove for cover, some more lucky than others. Hett activated his lightsabers, deflecting the oncoming assault, slowly moving back to cover.
Windows flew open and several henchmen began firing upon the Tuskens as well. They were pinned down. Several Tuskens tried to get up and take aim, only to get mowed down by the blaster bolts. Hett gritted his teeth in frustration. He knew that breaking through the gate would be the most challenging task of the assault.
Sand jumped up like a blanket, raining down upon him as an explosion went off in front of him. His mask prevented him from needing to cover his eyes from the flash or the sand, but he knew better than to stand out in the open. Reaching a large boulder, Hett steadied himself as his brethren began trying to take shots at the Hutt Cartel members in the palace. The entire assault depended on this segment. The Tuskens were counting on him. Taking a deep breath, Hett turned and raced forward.
His green blades spun with fury, deflecting every bolt that tried to take him down. Reaching into the Force, Hett threw one of his sabers like a spear into one of the open panels, hearing the burning blade cut through the cannon and its pilot. He used the Force to spin it like a fan, then dragged it through the hallway. He could hear the sheer panic and terror from Jabba's men as they tried to escape the spinning blade. One of the tuskens yelled a warning to Hett, alerting him of an incoming grenade. He quickly reached out with the Force again, throwing it back to its owner. It moved quickly back, exploding right in front of the open flap.
Hett didn't have a moment to waste. His quick actions only bought them a moment. He called his lightsaber back to his belt, before focusing his attention on the gate. If he couldn't bring it down, then the Tuskens wouldn't be able to advance. And if he didn't bring it down now, then Jabba's men would have set up interior defenses. Digging deep, Hett groaned as he began to hoist the heavy durasteel slab up. It slowly moved up, shaking, its motors fighting against him. Tuskens began running towards the door, trying to slide under the small opening. Hett gritted his teeth. Memories flashed before his eyes. The fall of the Order. Aurra Sing killing his father. The incompetency of the Jedi. How mercy and understanding led to their downfall.
There was no Jedi Order left. No master to condemn him for his hate and anger. The Jedi had failed. The Sith ruled. Hett would not abide by broken mantras and outdated commands. He was his own master. The Dark Side was his tool, not his enemy. Screaming in rage, Hett threw his hands up in one quick motion, the door following. It slammed up, the gears snapping and binding in place. The gate was open. Henchmen who were moving to defend the entrance looked on in fear at the Tusken Raider that had singlehandedly uprooted their prime defense. A'Sharad Hett screamed in fury, beating his chest, and roared to his fellow Tusken Raiders. They all charged forward.
Jabba sat on his throne, food still hanging out of his mouth in shock as he watched the security footage. The door was breached. And a Jedi was leading the Tusken Raiders. right into his palace. He could hear the chaos just down his hall. Chaos and panic had taken over his court. Bib Fortuna had fled. His Gamorrean guards were all that stayed by his side. Bounty Hunters like Boba Fett, Dengar, or Bossk were off the planet collecting different bounties. The only top-notch bounty hunter in his court that he could somewhat trust was Greedo, which wasn't saying much. Currently, his court was full of hotshots and mediocre smugglers and hunters who were looking to prove themselves. Jabba always prided himself on being an opportunist.
"4 million credits to the one that kills that filthy Jedi and stops this attack!" Jabba yelled, his translator droid relaying the message. To his chagrin, they all readied their blasters and raced to the corridor, pushing each other aside as they tried to run up the stairs and make an effort to claim the bounty. Heavy drinking will embolden people. It will also impair their judgment and abilities. So when the Tuskens charged forth towards a mob of drunken mercenaries and bounty hunters, it wasn't much of a competition. Especially with Hett leading the charge.
Jabba found himself surrounded by Tusken raiders, their cycler rifles and gaffi sticks trained on him. Echoes of chaos and pandemonium bounced through the palace as Jabba heard the war cries of Tuskens and his own men. He knew he was finished. He was at the mercy of the Tuskens. The Jedi Tusken moved forward, his green blades still humming at the leaders stared each other down.
"Master Jedi, what is the meaning of this? I am willing to forgive this act of rebellion. Come, let us discuss how-"
"Move this filth outside and bring an astromech to record," Hett said to a Tusken next to him, ignoring the Hutt, turning to join in on the rampage that was following through the palace.
"What? Master Jedi, lets be reasonable! Do you want money? What do you want? Supplies for your clan? I can provide it! Whatever you need! Come back!" The Hutt Lord's cries fell on deaf ears.
Coruscant, Imperial Palace
Emperor Palpatine sat on his throne, flanked by his royal guard. To his left stood Darth Chasm and the Grand Inquisitor. In front of him was a projection of Grand Moff Tarkin and ISB Director Yularen. Yularen's astromech droid projected a recording that had been broadcast on all open channels. News channels had already covered the topic. The scene before them was the execution of Jabba the Hutt at the hands of a Tusken Jedi.
"The Tusken Raiders claim Tatooine as their own! The Hutts are not welcome here. With this act, we claim our birth rite, our legacy, our heritage of the sands of Tatooine! This planet is ours. No longer shall we be encroached or crushed under the heel of this Hutt. Today, we rise and strike back!" The figure said before activating his lightsaber and striking it across the chest of Jabba. The Hutt cried out in agony and slumped forward.
Palpatine mused to himself. This was an unexpected move. Most surviving Jedi had either receded into silent lives. Very few, if any, would boldly declare their existence like this. The Jedi would almost always be discovered, never revealing themselves like this. It was a unique development.
"The Hutt Cartel has been demanding action, Emperor. One emissary said that we are responsible for this, because we claimed to have wiped out the Jedi, yet their leader was killed by one," Tarkin relayed. "A foolish notion, but I don't disagree that we should take action."
"Taking Tatooine under the jurisdiction of the Empire is a risky move. The planet itself has always been a hive of scum and villainy. It's easier for us to recruit off-the-record agents there than compared to Nar Shadda. Keeping the planet at arm's length would be ideal. I would advise against a full-scale invasion like with Mon Cala or Kashyyyk," Director Yularen said, looking down at his datapad, sifting through data. "We could offer a deal to the Hutts. We make this Jedi problem for them disappear and offer assistance to reestablish their authority and rule. The ISB has agents within the Hutt Cartel that we could move around to be in spheres of influence for the next Majordomo or ruler."
"Any signs that the growing rebellion is involved in this unprecedented move, Director?" Palpatine asked, his eyes still on the holorecording of the Tusken Jedi. His mind raced through the possibilities of who it could be.
"None milord. Reports say that this was solely led and operated by the Tusken Raiders. We guess that this Jedi was a frontlines general during the Clone Wars. However, due to the inquisitorious having sole access to files heavily detailing Jedi, we are unable to identify who this could be."
All eyes shifted to the Grand Inquisitor and Lady Chasm, who had their eyes fixed on the Jedi in front of them. "Hrm. Tusken Raiders have never been a part of the Jedi Order. However, there was one who was raised as a Tusken, despite being human. A'Sharad Hett, Jedi Master. Believed to have survived Order 66 his platoon was found dead on Rhen Var with lightsaber wounds. The body never recovered," The Grand Inquisitor stated cooly.
With a wave of his hand, the astromech droid highlighted the lightsabers on his belt and in his hand. "The hilt design matches Hett's file. I imagine that after Order 66, Hett fled to Tatooine, joining the one family that he knew he could trust. The Tusken Raiders. Using his Clone Wars experience and battlefield intelligence, he rallied the Tuskens to become a powerful force."
"How powerful would you consider Master Hett to be?" Tarkin asked with curiosity.
"Hett was a Jedi Master. His ability to survive Order 66 speaks to his strength in itself. Surviving the harsh environment and growing up in the culture of Tusken Raiders makes him a natural warrior. He will be excellent prey. A detachment of Purge Troopers and 1 or 2 Inquisitors would be enough."
"You're arrogance precedes you, Grand Inquisitor. Your abilities are not enough to take down such a foe. While you have hunted padawans and knights, Hett has honed himself in the crucible of Tatooine. A Sith Lord should undertake this challenge, not-" Chasm started, but was reproached by Palpatine.
"Chasm. Enough," Palpatine turned to Yularen and Tarkin. "Tell the Hutts that we will take care of this Tusken and Jedi problem for them. The Empire expects cooperation from them in return. I trust you to iron out the details, Director Yularen. Grand Moff Tarkin, I will be visiting you within the week. I expect progress to have been made on your assignment. Both of you are dismissed."
The officers both bowed before Tarkin cut his connection and Yularen turned around and made his way out of the chamber.
Before both Chasm or the Grand Inquisitor could say anything, Palpatine raised up his hand to silence them. "I have already made up my mind. The Inquisitiorious will deal with Master Hett. I already have an urgent task for Lady Chasm to deal with. However, I fully expect you to lead the mission, Grand Inquisitor. Too often you have let your underlings do your work for you. I wonder if you are still able to hold your title."
"I assure you, Emperor, my skills and abilities have only grown under the tutelage of Lady Chasm and yourself. I will not fail you."
"See to it that you do not. Go, assemble your team, and report back to me when you are done."
The Grand Inquisitor bowed and turned to leave, locking eyes with Chasm, slightly sneering at each other as he left.
"Lady Chasm, I have a special assignment for you. My agents have tracked a Jedi down to the planet Mygeeto. He has already cost me several of my Hands. I want him dead."
"Have your agents been able to identify this Jedi?"
Palpatine grabbed a datapad from his throne and handed it to his apprentice. "All the information you need in there. Now go."