Tatooine is an interesting place, with its rich flora and fauna that, despite first impressions, thrives.
Exactly, thrives.
Life here is in full swing, just like on any other planet. It's just that the life forms here... are quite specific, though in many ways they resemble ordinary Earth animals.
"You said this would take a couple of minutes!"
Clutching the rope with both hands, I tried to stay on the back of a ronto, a local riding beast that Jawas are so fond of. A mighty creature with a long neck and powerful legs, it was an excellent cargo carrier for long distances across the sands of Tatooine.
Usually, these beasts are quite peaceful and show no aggression. Having a powerful body and large size, most predators ignore them, choosing easier prey.
But now...
To the thunder of hooves, we were racing at the head of a herd—or rather, the herd was chasing us, and we were riding one of the rontos. Whether it was the leader or the leader's mate... Who the hell knows, but the beast turned out to be seasoned and unhappy that we tried to saddle it. And while it took Shorty's presence well enough, as soon as my foot touched the ronto's back, it bolted, filling the area with its roar.
"Stupid beast," — a sharp turn threw me off its back, and now I was dangling in the air. Pulling myself up with my arms, I peered at the screaming and bleating crowd of animals that were loyally running after us, burning me with resentful glares.
Though I was much more concerned by the frightened cries of an entire tribe of Jawas who had asked us for help in catching and taming these beasts.
Standing a bit off to the side, the little scavengers clutched their heads and constantly threw their hands up to the sky in indignation, apparently cursing themselves, me, and Shorty for deciding to ask for help.
Their small Sandcrawler stood nearby, rising like a monumental cliff above the madness unfolding around it.
"—!№;%:!№;!"
"I see the cliff ahead!" — Shorty was panically slapping the ronto's neck with her small palms, further inciting and angering the mighty creature. — "You're not making it better!"
Bracing my feet against the ronto's side, I began to push against it, shoving the frenzied animal in the other direction. The disgruntled beast bucked, trying to twist around to get a better angle to bite me, but it was all in vain. And just before the cliff, the stubborn ronto finally turned aside, heading straight for the small tribe of Jawas.
Realizing what was happening, the chief scavengers of Tatooine began running panically in different directions until the leader of them kicked them into the Sandcrawler, slamming the door right in front of our noses.
"Come on, damn you!"
Kicking the ronto in the side again, I forced it to turn once more, but the herd that had caught up to us couldn't boast such agility.
At full speed, two dozen rontos slammed into the stationary Sandcrawler.
With every impact, an eerie metallic clang echoed through the area. The mighty beasts pushed against it, crying out in displeasure and bucking, until they all pressed their foreheads against the steel giant together, beginning to slowly but surely tip it over.
"Oh no, come on!"
Releasing the rope, I jumped to the solid ground. My hands grabbed the hair on the back of my head, threatening to pull a few out, and my eyes bulged while a single swear word flew from my parted mouth.
With a groan and a screech of metal, the Sandcrawler toppled onto its side, filling the area with a terrible crash, as if the sky itself had collapsed onto the earth.
Satisfied with their work, the rontos peacefully wandered off. Seeing that their leader was no longer screaming like a stuck pig, they suddenly calmed down and now indifferently surveyed the surroundings, paying most attention to the little ones wailing from inside the Sandcrawler.
Indignant Jawas crawled out of the windows, shaking their fists in our direction, and I'm certain that at this moment, I don't even need a translator to understand what they're saying.
***
Trudging into the cantina of Hubba-gourd Settlement Number Thirteen, Shorty and I tiredly made our way to the bar, where a smiling local-style bartender was already waiting for us.
A large man, corded with muscles all over his body, shook the single tail of hair sticking out from his crown. His slightly slanted eyes narrowed mockingly, and his four arms continued their work, quickly pouring drinks and rinsing glasses that had accumulated in abundance on the neighboring workbench.
"I've heard," — without letting us say a word, Goro splashed some diluted cactus juice, remembering our preferences, — "or rather, the whole town has heard... Ha-ha-ha."
"Well, we did tame the rontos."
"Can't argue with that. Job performed one hundred and twenty percent. A whole herd of obedient livestock." — Smacking his lips, Goro pulled a pouch of local currency from under the counter. Ancient coins that could be found in plenty in the planet's ruins. Though almost no one does that now, at least not in this hemisphere. — "Now, let's count..."
Emptying the coins onto the bar, which drew the attention of most of the cantina, Goro began to carefully sort out what was owed to us.
"Twenty for completing the order," — sliding them toward us, the bartender wagged a finger as soon as Shorty reached out for the reward, — "and five more for each one in the herd..."
One hundred and twenty coins looked tempting. With that money, we could do a lot of useful things for our little duo. Buy a weapon for Shorty, update my clothes, make some ammo...
"And this is for the overturned Sandcrawler," — and one hundred and fifteen coins slid back, leaving us with a pathetic five, — "I'd take it all, but Bari liked the show and he tipped you a fiver."
Nodding toward a fat farmer who spent his days here, Goro saluted with a mug in return, barely containing his laughter.
"Shit... How did it end up like this?"
Leaning my elbow on the bar counter, I scanned the establishment with a hollow gaze, realizing we wouldn't find any more work in this settlement. We'd already stayed here longer than usual, but apparently, failure awaited us here too.
Several months had passed since I started traveling with Shorty, and I wouldn't say our affairs had taken a turn for the better. After that massacre in "The Four," I decided to try earning a living the honest way, doing light work, but without killings or destroying settlements.
Simple errands, honest pay...
"Shit..."
"You're repeating yourself." — Smiling warmly, Goro set aside the mugs he was clutching in his four hands. Tossing the signature bartender's rag over his shoulder, he leaned closer to me, mirroring my posture on the bar. — "Sam, you're a good guy and a great hunter..."
"What are you trying to say? That I'm completely unfit for a peaceful life?"
"Well, overall, yes. Whatever you take on, everything goes sideways, as if the world itself is against your decision to be an ordinary guy." — Pausing for a moment, Goro leaned even closer, whispering so the other patrons wouldn't hear. — "But in delicate matters, you clearly have a talent. Why don't you try one light little job, huh?"
"I know your 'jobs'..."
"Sam, don't slander me; I'm an honest sentient and I don't offer dirty work, especially to you... 'The Destroyer'."
"Oh, god," — grabbing my head, I tried to ignore the cantina owner's laughter, which boomed like thunder even into the neighboring buildings, — "stop calling me that. The nickname is idiotic, and it was made up for no reason..."
"But wasn't it you who destroyed one side of 'Fang Canyon'? Using the mystical Force possessed only by the eunuch monks from Coruscant itself..."
"Please, enough of this stupidity! There was no Force-shmorce. Some idiot just blew up a grenade, that's all..."
"Of course, of course... The Destroyer."
"Agh."
Dropping my face onto the tabletop, I began counting the tiny cracks that had accumulated here over the cantina's long years of operation. According to Goro, he'd lived here for nearly half a century and had owned this place for most of it.
"Lucky bastard. Lives quietly and doesn't worry about a thing."
I was even slightly envious of such a state of affairs. Because, as Goro rightly said—my affairs on the peaceful front were going shitty, to put it mildly.
Whether it was the providence of the damn Force, my bad luck, or just clumsy hands—I didn't know the answer, and I didn't want to know, because I couldn't do anything about it.
But...
As practice showed, if I participated in an open conflict...
My acquaintance with Goro had happened exactly when the Sand People attacked this settlement. The natives were very hostile and, judging by those ritual splashes and shouts, were going to either eat or sacrifice most of the residents, so I decided to intervene.
Thirty-four corpses in less than five minutes left the villagers with a definite impression of me, which didn't make things easier. While they might joke about me, as soon as they noticed my displeasure, everyone except Goro vanished, trying not to cross my path.
So I had to become friends with this alien "Moe."
Though this alien was quite a friend.
Images rolled before my eyes of Shorty and me returning to the bar, and this jerk already being aware of all the events. At least he apologized for every mockery afterward and looked for new work for us, and free housing too... So let him have his fun.
"Let's drink to the great bantha tamers. Even if old Esker was a rare prick, he didn't deserve the destruction of his farm like that. Now he'll have to shovel bantha dung out of his barns for months."
"Hey-hey! Long live the best engineers in the whole Republic! Never mind that they didn't fix the wind generator; at least our town now has its own landmark—a flying ronto!"
"As Sam says: 'Glory to Super-Democracy!', because from now on everyone in the settlement will have a voice—strained and painful, until they dig a new pit for the shit, since the contents were scattered across our roofs, but don't despair!"
Our weekdays passed in roughly that vein.
"So, Sam? There's a job, just for you." — Catching my interested look, Goro changed his tone to serious for the first time in the conversation, and his eyes filled with determination to make me accept the job, but as it turned out, that was unnecessary. — "Tuskens raided the eleventh station, took all the survivors with them..."
"I'm in."
"Good, because I was already thinking of hiring those meatheads with one brain between the two of them..."
"They're here?"
"Ha-ha, why are you so worried? Afraid of your own fans?"
"They're not my fans; they're some kind of fanatics. They follow me everywhere, repeating everything I do..."
"Such is the fate of celebrities... The Destroyer."
"Go to hell."
"Ha-ha-ha."
***
What does a Sand People camp look like? It's a mix of tents and pavilions, sealed so tight that not a tick or a woman could get through.
In the beliefs and culture of the desert dwellers, showing parts of one's body is only allowed inside one's own tent, and even then, only to the closest people. To one's husband or wife... and that's about it, probably...
I'm not strong on their daily customs, as these people are extremely closed off... in every sense of the word. And they don't let outsiders near them who might violate their code of traditions and rules.
Strange creatures, but that doesn't make them any less dangerous. Though, this belief of theirs actually unties my hands, because I don't even necessarily have to kill all the Sand People.
I just need to work a bit with a knife, a needle, and thread, then take up a convenient position. Constantly hiding from the local breed of dogs that guard the natives' dwellings, while simultaneously avoiding patrols and hunters who stroll leisurely between the yurts.
"Alright, alright... Just a little more..."
"Stupid !№%:!?"
"If you have a better idea, I'd be happy to hear it." — Whispering back at Shorty, who loyally followed me even in the most insane situations, I handed her a spool of thread leading to different parts of the camp. Luckily, we were fortunate today; the sky was cloudy, and the Sand People loved to settle between the cliffs to shield themselves from the winds and so the light from the fires wouldn't loom in the night. — "When I say so—pull... I mean, how? Like this. Yes, harder. No... Holy Liberty, give it here. Like this."
Tugging with all my might, I felt the tension on the steel threads give way, and the sound of tearing fabric echoed throughout the camp.
Two dozen tents burst open like blooming flowers, demonstrating the natives' foul appearance to everyone around.
"Oh, god... I'll never be able to look at women the same way again." — One of the tents was right next to us, so I got a full view of the Sand People women... And you know, her image would have fit perfectly into the propaganda of monsters from Super Earth. — "Almighty Lord, does she have a... stab wound there?"
Pointing a finger toward the crotch, where everything was very different from what I remembered about Earth women, I got hit on the hand by Shorty's tiny palm as she squeaked indignantly at my tactlessness.
"You're right... Freedom of choice, liberty for all." — Catching my breath, though I admit, the stench here was wild, it practically stung my eyes. I understand that you have to save water in the desert, but couldn't you at least rub yourselves with sand? — "Let's go... The slaves are waiting."
***
"Ha-ha-ha! Long live the great breaker of shackles. Destroyer of chains, master of aromas!"
"Hello to you too..."
"Hey, don't be sour, I'm just joking," — tossing a heavy purse in his hand, Goro handed it over to us in full, drawing two surprised looks, — "I told you, a job like that was for you. Though, I was hoping you'd slaughter them all..."
"We managed without any corpses."
"Instead, you vomited a new path from the Sand People camp to our little town. Now the bastards know their captives are with us. And they'll consider them their property until the very end." — Grumbling while simultaneously wiping glasses, Goro rested his second pair of arms on his hips. — "Why do you have such a powerful rifle if you don't use it?"
"I..."
"Yes, yes, yes... I remember your stories. Only every time, you break them yourself," — seeing my face darken, Goro awkwardly scratched the back of his head, realizing he'd said too much. Pulling some real alcohol from under the counter and pouring it for me, he looked questioningly at my eternal companion, hoping for advice from her, but... Shorty just looked at him indignantly the whole time, while the big guy himself waved his hands apologetically, — "alright, alright. Sorry. Didn't mean to stir things up..."
"No. You're right, overall," — drinking the offered beverage in one gulp, I stood up from the table with a smile, — "thanks for the wine, the taste is excellent, as always."
"You little rascal!"
"And don't worry about my problems; I'm still working on them." — Stepping outside, I squint at Tatooine's bright suns that eternally accompany our path. — "And there's still a lot of work ahead... Let's go, Shorty. It's time to visit the next town; maybe we can avoid meeting any suspicious acquaintances."
Walking down the main street, I shove my hands into my pockets, feeling that overall, things aren't so bad. Even if I haven't decided on my global goals yet, at least I've managed to more or less shake off the gloom. To hell with the fact that I'm no good at peaceful work; at least it brings me pleasure, and that's worth a lot.
"Truth be told, battle brings me no less pleasure."
My hand clenched into a fist, and my heart beat faster for a moment, while my tensed body stood ready to plunge into the thick of a fight at any second.
"Phew..." Exhaling heavily and tiredly, I begin to look around, trying to distract myself. The first thing that caught my eye was a news board or a classic bulletin board, where requests, orders, and the latest events on this side of the world were posted. "Well, look at that..."
And there was reason to be surprised. Lately, attacks by desert dwellers had increased manifold. Enraged natives were actively attacking everything that didn't belong to their tribes, killing all defenders, destroying equipment, and dragging survivors off into slavery...
At that last thought, I had to spit on the ground.
...Not that they acted differently before, but now it was taking on a massive scale. Rumors of attacks were coming from everywhere, and with each passing day, good news was becoming scarcer.
And most unpleasantly, no one understood the reason for such aggressive behavior.
"I'll have to look into that..."
Making a mental note, I adjust my backpack more comfortably and then head out of the settlement at a quiet pace, feeling many gazes fixed on my back. They had appeared the moment I started reading about the desert attacks and didn't disappear until I left the village.
***
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