Saga The Raider

Planet Hoth was generous and compassionate, but these were delivered from a freezing and icy heart. There was only one contest there, and it was survival. Perhaps it could have been a planet covered in ocean and teeming with life, but it was shoved far from the reach of any sun with warm rays to comfort it. If someone could move it closer, perhaps it could understand it's own brutality. It was the same sort of speculation as to how a human could speak true Tusken. First of all, the human tongue would have to be split into four slithers and rammed back into its larynx. No human has ever spoken one accurate word of Tusken, and in retrospect, no Tusken Raider has ever spoke human. It's impossible. Grutex muttered to himself, "I should have left it all alone." He then laughed, "All alone: kind of funny, I guess."

Grutex was as close a pronunciation as a human will get to... Grutex's real name, without of course the human mutilating their mouth and practicing for years. And Grutex was both right and wrong, about how he should have left it all alone. If he had, he would not be on Hoth now, stranded; he was for all purposes, not suited. He could actually feel the cold vice his very bones.

Being abnormal, as he was, his thoughts lied not on immediate survival, but rather several steps ahead unraveling the mystery as to how he would escape this planet. Very few Tusken Raiders had ever possessed this trait. They primarily lived in the moment, and once that was satisfied gave no attention to the next. This gave good reason to their nomadic traits.

His steps were more like leaps in the thigh deep drift. For certain, beneath the snow was solid ice, and what was below there? Who knew? Who cared? He did have one hope. Grutex was well read, and by this it is meant he kept his ears open. No Tusken Raiders could actually read as far as was known. He listened to the stories kept by the other abnormal Tusken Raiders, of which he knew only two and they were much older than him. This was how Grutex knew which planet he was on, which would have not been known by the average Tusken Raider. He certainly was of an exclusive and shunned elect. Babgrat had told a story of how snow as ice is harvested from this planet, turned to water, and sold to star crafts stationed in deep space. There was supposedly one location on where this harvesting occurred, and if he kept on the move, maybe he would luck up and catch a ride. Besides, if there was one thing a Tusken Raider knew how to do, it was how to keep on the move.

 

As unfortunate as Grutex's plight was, he had been lucky in some mysterious ways. He knew he was close to the harvesting area because he had seen it from above through the ship's front shields as it had landed. The area was unmistakable, large rectangular divots were cut in the snow's underlying ice, looking like a huge snowed over quarry. A special note, above all, he had made as to the direction in which it laid. He pushed through snow which was getting only deeper and colder. Once he slipped and stumbled, but the snow was deep enough to catch his fall. A mighty walrus sounding growl roared from him, a sound he had not made since very young and upset, and of which he felt was a primeval and backwards display; yet it came forth surprisingly natural. He slumped forward in the snow and blistering wind and cried under his breath, "But I couldn't leave it alone."

And by it, he meant her. Tusken tribes are ruled by the backwards primeval laws which Grutex and his few elect could not mix naturally. The right to possess female Tusken Raiders was given to the strongest and most savage, and she was taken from Grutex by the tribal war lord. Of course Grutex was welcome to win her back by physical force if he could, and no qualms would have been made about it; but instead he challenged the war lord through the spoken word and tore him apart, and this would just not stand. Everyone in the Tusken Raider tribe knew the war lord had been for some time receiving gifts and payments from the Empire by commanding members of the tribe to do tasks the troopers found undesirable. And at first, the war lord was simply going to kill Grutex for his act of intolerable superiority, but the two similar elders persuaded the war lord otherwise. Instead the war lord struck another deal with the storm troopers, and instead of receiving monies, asked the storm troopers to do the most cruel action they could conjure to Grutex without killing him. What more ironic cruelty could they have done than to pitch him out on a planet which was the extreme opposite of Tatooine?

 

Hello hollywooddove, great story so far!

However, I noticed this story does not have an 'era" tag yet. All stories posted here must have an era tag (also known as a prefix) to help us mods sort stories. To choose the 'era' tag by pressing the arrow beside no prefix, and pick the era in which this story belongs. "Before" means before the Star Wars movies (episodes I - VI), "Saga" is during the moves and "Beyond" means after episode VI.

If you need help, PM me.

Thanks.
Bri

 

One of the pilot storm troopers in the small shuttle thumbed back at Grutex, letting him know the storm trooper was talking about him, but he couldn't understand a word they were saying. "Those things carry quite a smell don't they?"

The co-pilot laughed, "That's to say the least. I wonder what this poor bastard did to be exiled."

The pilot responded, "Who could guess? Doesn't matter, though. We need to keep relations with the war lord on good terms. He is trading us a set of Banthas and some weapons for this one Tusken Raider, so whatever he did must have been pretty bad."

"Yeah, there is really no way to tell with their traditions. They are so barbaric and strange. So what's the plan? We drop him out on Hoth, take a hologram recording of him to show to the war lord and just leave him there to suffer to and die?"

"That's the plan."

"That' cold, man." The two of them laughed heartily, and Grutex could make this much out. Then they began to speak again, and once again he was lost without an interpreter, "So, now that we have these Banthas and stuff back on Tatooine, do you think it will help us find the droids we are looking for?"

The pilot shrugged, "I don't know. It's like finding a needle in a pile of straw. At least we will be able to keep some of our actions under cover and let the Tusken Raiders catch the blame."

There was silence, and then a pinging sound from the shuttle console. "Okay. We are close to Hoth now. Where do you want to set it down?"

"We need a spot where the wind doesn't tear this ship apart. Let me do a scan." The pilot studied a monitor which was feeding data rapidly, "Hey, well look at this. Seems smugglers have been harvesting ice from this planet and selling it as water. I bet the area is tested as pretty safe then."

Chuckling, the co-pilot said, "You have got to be kidding."

"No, no. For real, there is like some sort of... ice quarry down there."

"I wonder what idiots are paying good money to buy water collected from this hell hole."

"Yeah, let me... look... " the pilot was giving more study to the data. "Give it a sec. Looks like this report has never been tallied before." A few seconds more and the numbers were shown on his screen, "Holy crud. You have got to be kidding!"

"What?" the co-pilot was somewhat alarmed.

The pilot popped his palms on the console and then raised them in front of him, sort of in the same way to suggest a surrender, "The Empire is the number one customer."

"Wha... ?" the co-pilot giggled.

"Yep, we are the idiots buying the ice water quarried here. Oh, and it looks like the receipts track most of it back to the Death Star."

The co-pilot nodded, "Yeah, well the water is nice and cold on the Death Star. Have you ever noticed that?"

The pilot said, "You know, I have. Just never really thought too much about it. But when I get a drink there, I always think, wow, this is good water."

The glow of Hoth spilled in to the cabin of the shuttle craft. It's casting light, too, was cold. The co-pilot turned back to the Tusken Raider cuffed behind them, "You," he pointed to Grutex, "are one lucky Tusken Raider. I bet you will be the first to ever see snow."

Grutex could not make out a word of it, but he was sure it was not good. The pilot had made remarks on the size of the quarry seen from high above, and it was massive. Each member of the shuttle stared through the front shield to give a small token of marvel at it, and this is when Grutex made his mental note to it's direction.

 

Even in this safer zone of Hoth, a gale of wind whipped the shuttle craft, and all inside feared a flipping was inevitable. The pilot managed to stabilize the craft and make a touch down, leaving the engines hot, he had no desire to risk a faulty engine start up here. The sound of the wind channeling around the shuttle was a clear message which could be interpreted no matter your species, and Grutex felt his heart shrink back into his chest. The voyage had been too quick; he wasn't ready to face this. The pilot swiveled around in his seat and faced Grutex, telling him, "Okay bud. This is your stop."

Grutex was pretty sure he knew the plan by all the hints, they were going to leave him here. He looked down at his cuffed hands and slightly gestured them forward.

The pilot laughed, "What? You want me to take those off? No way."

The co-pilot said, "Come on man. Have a bit of heart. It won't make any difference; he's still going to freeze to death out there."

"These things are pretty strong, and mean as hell. I'm not going to risk him taking us with him."

While unsnapping his seat restraints the co-pilot said, "You can take them off outside and I will cover you. Besides, it saves us a pair of cuffs."

Grutex stood on the very outer edge of the ramp outside the shuttle. The pilot was removing the cuffs, and he hesitated. The co-pilot had a blaster drawn covering the Tusken Raider, whose browns and grays were in sharp contrast to the blinding snow behind him. The pilot turned to the co and said, "Just for kicks, want to take his wraps off and see what they look like underneath?"

"No man. It's cold out here. Just get it over with."

"You're not even just a little curious?"

The co-pilot rocked his body a little anxiously, "Not really. Not that curious. Not enough to waste time here. Come on, it's cold."

The pilot resumed removing the bindings from Grutex, but for a brief moment noticed the fluttering and flapping of his Tusken tunic and clothes as the snow was swarming passed. It made the Tusken Raider almost seem to be in motion, though he was standing perfectly still. The bandages and masking hid all expression, and gave the Tusken Raider an appearance of having no soul, as if he were nothing more than an over sized rag doll. The trooper finished unsnapping the cuffs from Grutex and said, "You things are so weird." He stuck his armored foot forward and planted it in Grutex's chest, forcing the Tusken Raider into the snow on his back. The pilot reached back towards the co-pilot, who handed him a small black device, with which a short hologram snap shop of the Tusken Raider was taken. As the blue energy light scanned him, Grutex flinched and felt highly violated.

The pilot made his way back into the shuttle as as the co-pilot kept his blaster on Grutex, who made no effort to get back on his feet. He simply watched the pilot disappear back into the warm shuttle and the co-pilot send Grutex a brief sloppy salute. The shuttle door closed and the engines raged, and soon, it was but a speck fading high behind the falling snow.

A guttural sigh rattled from the Tusken Raider. As his life went, it was time to be on the move again.

 

Grutex continued to force his way through the snow, towards his slim chance of hope. He said to himself, "I was wrong about one thing, snow's not so great." Anyone who was an inhabitant of a hot desert planet fantasized of snow, or rain, or grass, at least some in their life, sure in their heart it would be paradise compared to being stuck with the sand and the heat. Of course, the primitive Tusken Raiders scoffed the idea of snow as though it was a myth. Grutex was fairly certain snow was not a myth now, but he had reservations about paradise existing anyplace; this would have to remain one of life's unanswered questions for now.

He would, however, find the answer to a question he never thought to ask. Would one know the difference between the sensation of slipping on ice or ice shifting below their feet? The answer is, no: not with limited experience. He did, however, create a mental note, that what feels like a slip, may not be a slip. But this mental note was made way, way after the point of mattering. When the ice had made the first crack under his feet and caused him to slide back a bit, he thought he had simply slid. After all, the deep snow was pushing back on him. When the monstrous tentacle came bursting from beneath the icy ground and wrapped around his legs, his panic notified him he had been more than mistaken. Another embarrassing guttural screech, and he was being dragged down below the ice.

This one tentacle could have dragged something much larger than a Tusken Raider down to the depths, Grutex vanished with a puff of snow. He had been discovered by a beast undocumented and unseen by any other sentient being. The front of the tentacle was sticky and back was covered in a thick white fur, and though Grutex would never see them, there were seven more of these ten meter tentacles extruding from a horror too difficult to describe due to it's manner of consumption and locomotion. What is important is since Sandagra, his Tusken Raider love interest, had been taken from him, this was the second time the world had been ripped from beneath Grutex's feet. Another mysterious favor had been paid to Grutex, he had been knocked unconscious as soon as he had went under the surface. If not for the make up of his thick Tusken Raider cranium and the wrappings around his head, the blow against the icy drop would have easily killed him, as it did most species which was dragged down below. The hidden tentacle creature relied on this fact, which is why when Grutex's consciousness came back he found himself stock piled for a later meal. But while in his dark slumber, his mind fell back to where he should have left things alone, but could not, thereby finding himself exiled, beneath the snow and ice, alone.

 

If fear could be instantly turned to salvation, Grtuex would have been swept home but with a single breath. Instead, fear was devouring him. Was this the furious grave of the after life? He was cold, but not the incredible cold he had suffered, and the darkness was draped all about him. He laid on something pliable, crunchy. Inside his tunic was a small light, he removed it and switched it on. Piled beneath him were taun tauns and wampas, still and dead. There was no smell of rot or decay, the temperature was keeping them preserved. His memory was very slight as to how he had gotten down here in this tomb, he remembered, maybe, something gripping his legs. He wondered if any of these hapless creatures here with him had had any better idea of what found them here, but there was no asking as their fate had been decided. Grutex slowed his breath and calmed his soul. As vexing as this nightmare was, he knew the cloud of fear must be lifted if he were to survive.

Climbing upward was not an option, the ice was too slick no matter how he tried. The cavern he was in did tunnel in both directions, but what would he find? To move meant possible death, something a Tusken Raider developed a thick skin to, yet to remain still was a certainty, and this too was a way of life for the Tusken Raider. If he were to find his way back out in the cold as opposed into the grips of whatever had dragged him down here, he would have to suffer the ravaging cold again on the surface, and this he knew would kill him. He looked down at the littered creatures and saw they were all covered in thick furs. Breaking loose a sharp shard of ice, he tested the wampa hide and found it incredibly tough, and so opted for the taun taun which was much easier to slice through. Grutex began to fashion a taun taun pelt. The stench of the animals innards assaulted him; he muttered, "These things definitely smell better on the outside than the inside."

Still, he thanked the donor of the skin for being gracious enough to die for his needs, and he began to move on in the easiest tunnel to walk through once he had wrapped himself in the taun taun hide. He moved as quickly as he could through the passage bored in the ice, his light showing the way, and he had the nagging sensation fingers of death would grip him from behind at any moment.

 

Ahead appeared to be nothing more than empty tunnel, this pleased Grutex yet did not allow him to relax, rather it pushed him to move faster still. He kept his light before him, and sill wielded the shard of ice he had skinned the taun taun with. Tripping and falling could be as disastrous as being eaten if he landed on it just right. His breathing was hard and labored, and loud, and... dueled? Never had he heard his breathing sound as though it were waves crashing at random rhythms. Wait, it now occurred to him this was two sets of labored breathing falling in and out of sync. Quickly he flashed his light behind him, a wildly animated ice wampa was on his heels. Was this what had busted through the ice and dragged him below? Had it discovered one of its meals was hard at escape? It was clearly out running him and would be on him soon. He turned the light back to the wampa and fell flat on the ice, it pays to never look back.

Aggravated by the light, the wampa snarled. Grutex held the shard of ice up in anticipation of the wampa leaping on him. The wampa's rate of speed never slowed as it ran right past Grutex. Apparently it was not in the eating state of mind. Grutex tracked it with his light, the beast never looked back. A worst idea suddenly mobbed Grutex's mind, the wampa was running away just like he was, except the wampa's intent appeared to be far more dire. Grutex's heart fell to a lower trough than the depths of the burrowed tunnel when he knew there could be only one explanation. Once again he quickly flashed the light back to where the wampa had come from, and along the tunnel walls and ceiling, seething forward, was a mass furry tentacles.

Grutex scrambled violently to his feet and shot forward. This time, there would be no looking back, he had only one desire, and that was to out run the wampa. He even screamed out in vain, "Wait!" His sprint was warped into a tug of war, one of the tentacles was winding around his right leg. Grutex heard his ice shard clatter to the ground and his light made dizzying strobes as it spun where it had landed; he had released both with the initial jerk of his capture. When the light came to a rest, it shown on the shard. He fell flat and reached for the ice knife; his finger tips grazed it and pushed it farther from him. His left foot found a hold and he shoved, stretching his body against the pull of the beast which had caught him. One finger pressed down on the ice shard. He clawed it back and grabbed it and rolled over and sat up. The tentacle yanked him a couple of meters across the ice, almost causing him to loose the shard again. Darkness was blotting out all he could see, another yank like the previous and he would have no aim. The muscles beneath the tentacle's fur coiled, he could see another pull was triggering. The knife came down with all of the force he could muster, sinking deeply into the tentacle. It released him and retreated like a wounded snake. Before it had a chance to lick it wounds and regroup its ambition, Grutex fled, scooping up his light and sprinting away.

 

The Raider - Chapter two

It’s almost impossible to be a tribesman when you are all alone. And Grutex was not reflecting on the isolation of this icy, barren, hellish planet he was on. He was thinking back to home, in the middle of the daily activities and normal routines. When he was a child, he would sit alone and draw circles in the sand, wondering if the others might ask him to play. They never did, so he grew accustomed to the circles we would make and wipe away, make and wipe away.

His heart felt hollow when he wondered if his mother had been glad to give birth to him, if she smiled down on him, if she held him tightly, if she could see him now. He felt better now if he pretended she was there, because he imagined she would understand him, and tell him everything was alright, even if he chose to let go. He pretended many times in his life she was close, there to correct him with love and there to praise with pride. He had no control over this need, even though he had been raised by two of the tribal kin after his mother died. Grutex was grateful for the two kin, Babgrat and Yishbro, male and female. It was unheard of for Tusken Raiders to adopt an orphan, but Babgrat was not typical. By all standard practices, the infant Grutex should have been left to die.

There was no greater certainty he was different than on the night, as a youngster, a fight between two other young Tusken Raiders was settled. There had been a fist fight earlier between the two, and no one attempted to stop them; they could have fought to the death. Instead, the tribe massed around to spectacle in all the roar and glee of gladiator sport. Grutex had been front row for the event, and he sickened inside to watch the hopeless event transpire. He pushed his way out of the crowd, not interested to see the end of the fight, which would come later in the night and he would see anyhow; and he saw Babgrat sitting alone outside his tent, hands hanging limp between his legs, head hanging low. It was clear, Babgrat too was sickened, and even though the thick wrappings on their heads protected them from an incredibly harsh environment, it was not enough to shield them from the insanity.

“Papa?” Grutex touched Babgrat on the shoulder, “Papa, are you okay?”

Babgrat wrapped his arm around Grutex and looked on him through the soulless mask. He tightened the embrace, and Grutex was sure inside the mask, there was a smile for him, and probably tears. As a family they stood alone in the tribe, as a species they were more so shunned by all others, which blotted out the brightest sun for their existance. Perhaps this is why Tusken Raiders needed a planet with two.

Grutex watched that night, as the youngster who had lost the fist fight made his final statement on the matter. It was not unusual for Grutex to be wandering alone on the outskirts of the camp, and he witnessed the loser carrying a torch to the tent of the family of the young Tusken who had won. Grutex stood silently, not sure completely of the intentions of the loser. The loser crouched, ready to touch the flaming torch to the tent. Grutex backed a step, in disbelief, stumbling and alerting the loser to his presence. The loser pointed at him and hissed an unmistakable warning to be silent. The tent went up in flames.

The loser had vanished quickly and the tent was consumed in only a few moments. A shining figure staggered out of the tent, arms flailing the dark, blazing and crackling, and fell to the ground. The figure was young, only a child. It was the winner of the fight earlier in the day. No one helped. There was only another crowd assembled, and a few chuckles could be heard. One Tusken Raider stepped forward and cursed in all manner of Tusken over the loss of his possessions inside the tent, but not the loss of his child. The other children were running about as Grutex stayed paralyzed where he sat. They were jumping about, trying to catch the drifting flakes of ash.

Grutex watched the flakes of ash fall about him in his memory until they transformed into the snow floating down to settle on him. He had made it out of the tunnels where the tentacle beast dwelled. The wampa he had been following had bombarded through an ice wall into the quarry; the underground tunnel ran directly adjacent inside it. Grutex had stepped out to see the wampa hunched over panting in the icy quarry. “Thank you,” Grutex said in his growling and slurping native tongue. The wampa shot a baleful glance at him and roared, flexing its shoulders and shaking saliva from its mouth. Grutex did not know what to make of the roar, was it “Your welcome,” or “Don’t stand so close to the tunnel entrance,” or “Different circumstances would find me eating you.”

The wampa dashed away into the snow, presumably to find a place where climbing out of the quarry would be possible. Grutex placed some distance between him and the entrance back underground, and the other walls of the quarry to be safe, and sat down in the snow. The coat of taun taun he had fashioned did help, but night was coming, and the cold was becoming unbearable. As he lied on his back and watched the snow tumble down, he silently spoke, “I am sorry Babgrat. I know you miss me, and I miss you too. It’s sort of your fault, though. You taught me to love, and our kind just wasn’t meant for that.”

Beneath his tunic, strung to his neck, he pulled out a threaded, shiny blue stone. It was given to him on a night he would never forget; the night Sandagra placed it around his neck. There was hope for her. She was almost like him. Babgrat had told him she was rare, and she was. Her name meant ‘shade of the desert’ in his language, and she had been most positively that for him. She gave him peace, even now, at the moment of most loss. He saw his reflection in the stone, and so saw her. He smiled beneath the dirty, frosty mask despite it all. For the first time since he had landed on this disdainful planet, his heart felt warm and alive.

“Sandagra,” he whispered, “I was right to not leave it alone.”
The butt of a blaster thumped against something half buried in the snow. The morning was golden, and the snow had stopped for a while. Again a thump, and a human wrapped in thick coat, hooded and goggled, called back to his partner. “Joel! Hey Joel! Come take a look at this.”

Joel called back, “What is it Karl?”

Karl shoveled some of the snow from the half buried thing and said, “Don’t know. Looks like…. Looks like a damn taun taun ate a sand man.”

“What?”

“I said it looks like a taun taun with a sand man inside of it. Weird man.”

Joel made his way through the snow and asked on the way, “Karl, you think we could get some ice dug out before the weather gets bad?”

“I’ve already set three charges. We’re good. You really need to take a look at this.”

Joel, also goggled and coated, looked down at the thing. “What the hell? Is that a Tusken Raider inside of a taun taun hide?”

“’S what it looks like.” Karl thumped it harder with his rifle butt, “I think he’s dead.”

“How did a Tusken Raider get all the way out here on Hoth? I have never heard of a Tusken Raider being anywhere except Tatooine.”

Karl shoved some the fur away from Grutex’s mask, “It’s a sand man alright.”

“They’re called Tusk – en – Raid – ers.”

“I always called ‘em sand men, being how they live out in the sand.”

“Okay, one more charge to set and we blow out this big hunk of ice and be on our way.” Joel had begun to walk away.

“Can we keep it?”

Joel stopped and his shoulders drooped, “No we can’t keep it. Why would you even suggest we keep a frozen Tusken Raider?”

Karl raised his goggles, pulled back his hood from his long thin nose and deep chin, and said, “We could unwrap it.”

Joel turned towards Karl and shrugged, “Why?”

“Oh, I hear these things are a horrible sight. We could take it back on board and unwrap it.”

Joel paused, “No, no. We are not taking that… thing back with us.”

“Come on Joel, aren’t you just a bit curious?”

Joel stood still the way a thinking man stands still, and said, “Okay, you win. Drag it back to the ship while I set this last charge…” Karl leaped in the air and howled, but Joel cautioned, “and then no more fooling around down here. I want to leave while the morning calm is happening.”

Karl jigged a little dance and heaved the stiff Tusken Raider over his shoulders, “Taun taun hide stinks. Wow.” He began his trek to the space vessel. “Sheila is going to love you.”

The charges went off with a thunder and puffed a billowy blanket of snow inside the ice quarry. Four enormous harpoons fired from the belly of the spacecraft and stabbed the cube of ice, some fifty cubic meters, and hoisted it into the cargo bay. It was the last of five they removed that morning. The craft swiveled upward and bolted into space.

The space carrier was basically shaped like a drinking flask, the metal kind for high spirits, with the nose where the cap would be. It had hard angular shapes and outlines of riveted panels all about it. Sensors and pipes were abound the hull with no aesthetic rhyme or reason, including some energy canons which had never been fired in any battle; they had however been fired for fun and the occasional asteroid clearing. The nose of the ship was snub with large transparent viewing shields and shaped like a small shuttle itself, which it was. Should worse come to worse, it could separate from the cargo bay and make a short escape, it was of course the last resort.

The dim glow of the cockpit made streaks on Sheila’s dark brown hair as she monitored read outs and the space before them. The cockpit hatched slid open and Joel stepped in, his freshly showered messy hair and under shirt on, and he plopped in the seat beside her. “So, how we doing?”

She was flipping a switch over her head, “Good. Looks like we will be making the jump to hyperspace a little late though.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, “Oh yeah? Why is that?”

“Got some odd read out on our cooling coil. You’d think with all the ice aboard cooling would be our last concern.”

“Want me to go check it out?”

“No, I can get RP4-1 to go take a look at it, make some readings. Could be a bad sensor. Probably nothing to worry about.”

Joel, an incredibly handsome man of average height with short messy hair and cool gray eyes, limply dropped his head back and sighed. “Well, since we have a little extra time, Karl has a surprise for you.”

Sheila stood from her seat, “He bring a taun taun back?”

“Close.”

She laughed, “Good old Karl. You never know what’s going to happen next.”

“Never a dull trip.”

“He’s a trip for sure.” Sheila stretched and yawned, her petite frame quivering a bit, “I better go have RP take a look at those coils.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t forget to check in on Karl, I think you will like the surprise.”

She paused at the door, “Oh no. What is it for real?”

“Nothing bad. Really rare. I mean really really rare,” he thought for a moment, “as a matter of fact, I can’t think of anything more rare.”

“You have me curious now. Why aren’t you back there with it?”

“There is only so much Karl I can take at any one time. I need a break. Other than that, I would be.”

She nodded and left the cockpit, shortly while walking down the dim narrow corridor she ran across RP4-1, “Oh, RP, glad I caught you here. I need you to go back and take a reading on the cooling coils, make sure everything is in speck there.”

The grimy, flat gray protocol droid nodded, “Certainly ma’am.”

She added, “Oh, by the way, do you know where Karl is?”

“He is performing the most peculiar inspection of a… oh wait, I was not supposed to tell you. Sorry.”

The two shared an awkward moment and she said, “Okay, where at?”

“Oh, back in deck hold three.”

RP4-1 stood awaiting another command and Sheila released him, “Carry on.”

She took a deep breath and entered deck hold three, a common spacious room used to sort smaller cargos out, and saw Karl busy tugging on some mass lying on a steel table. He was in black tank top and baggy, dark green cargo pants. Karl was a good foot taller than Joel, his head shaved to a pepper and salt stubble which traveled around his jaw, chin, and upper lip. Sheila moved closer and began to recognize the mass on the table. She shielded her nose, “OH Karl! It is a dead taun taun. It smells so bad.”

Karl whipped his head back to her only to acknowledge her and continued to tug, “Help me get this off.”

She moved in closer, “What it that Karl? Wait, is that a…”

He looked back in her eyes, “There’s a sand man in here. Died out in the cold. Poor bastard tried to keep warm. I have no idea how he could have caught a taun taun and skinned it.”

Sheila was amazed, “What are you going to do with it?”

Karl stood upright and placed his fists on his hips, “Well, first, I have to get this stinking taun taun off him. The inner skin has frozen to his tunic. It’s slowly thawing out. Then I am going to unwrap him and take a look. Always wondered what a sand man looks like under all this bandaging.”

Sheila’s eyes sparkled and she grinned from ear to ear, “Oh let’s do!”

The two wrestled the smelly skin off and discarded it. Now they were ready to remove the wraps from the prize inside. Karl asked, “What should we take off first?”

The two smiled at one another and said, “The face!”

Sheila reached for the strapping making the mask and cowl, “Now, let’s take a see what’s under here.” She looked down and saw the shiny blue stone hanging on the leather twine around Grutex’s neck, “Oh, pretty.” She took it in her hand for a closer look. Her wrist was immediately grasped by a dirty bandaged hand. Grutex had seized her from taking the stone. “Karl?” she said in a most worried tone.

“Bless me Yavin,” Karl said, “The mummy has come to life.”

Everyone was at a standoff, Sheila slowly released the stone, “Okay guy. Easy.”

Karl said, “I don’t have a blaster. I need to go get a blaster.”

“Don’t you leave me in here, Karl. Just be slow and easy, don’t excite him.”

“Don’t excite him? What about me? I’m pretty shook up right now.”

“Calm down, Karl. If he wanted to hurt me he would have already.” Grutex sat up still tightly gripping her wrist. He hissed, and it sounded vehement. “Ouch, ouch, you’re hurting my wrist,” Sheila pleaded.

Karl exclaimed, “You turn her loose!”

Grutex turned to Karl and screeched, tightening his grip. Sheila said, “Karl, you are not helping.” Sheila held her other hand up in surrender and spoke quietly, “Hey, hey big guy. Listen, I know you’re just as afraid of us as we are of you…”

“I don’t know about that.”

Sheila stayed focused on the Tusken Raider, “I know you have obviously been through a very… strenuous and stressful ordeal. But it’s okay now, you’re safe.”

Grutex listened to the soothing tone she spoke, and though he could not interpret the words, he had heard this soothing tone from Babgrat many times as he was growing up. He loosened the grip a bit. “Thank you, thank you,” she said silently. “Trust me. No one’s going to hurt you.”

The bandaged hand fell away, and Sheila slowly moved a step back, “See, see? No one is going to hurt you.”

Karl said, “What you want me to do?”

“Go get RP, and also Joel. But don’t tell them what’s up.”

“What? Why not?”

“I don’t want Joel bringing a blaster in here and killing him. You better not bring one back either.”

Karl said, “We need a gun.”

She and the Tusken Raider sat gazing at one another in fascination, “No we don’t Karl. He’s not going to hurt us.”

When Joel, RP and Karl returned to the holding deck, Joel stepped in very casually, but when he saw the Tusken Raider sitting up, he gave a shout of alarm, “Whoa! Hey, what? Karl, did you know about this?”

The Raider recoiled and barked at Joel. Sheila placed her hands on Grutex calmly and said, “It’s okay.” She looked back at Joel, “Joel, take it easy. Be calm.”

Joel stepped closer with wild eyes. Sheila addressed the droid, “RP, come here. Can you speak Tusken?”

RP said, “There are some variance in tribal slangs, but I think I should be able to communicate with him, though I must warn you I have never maintained a conversation with a Tusken before to test the proper..”

She glared back at RP, “Can I take that as a yes?”

Joel asked, “Are you going to talk to it?”

She said, “Yes, aren’t you interested in how he got down there?”

RP stepped close to the Tusken Raider, who leaned back in discretion of the metal man. A string of rolling, rasping noises came from RP, causing the Raider to jump a bit. When RP was done, Grutex nodded and responded with a similar roll of grunts and phlegm.

Sheila asked RP, “What did you say to him?”

“I asked him if he could understand me.”

“What did he say back?”

“He said yes he could. He also wants to know if you plan to kill him.”

Sheila said, “Tell him no. Tell him he is our guest.”

Joel said, “Yeah, well first ask him if he plans to kill us.”

RP and Grutex shared more snarls and yaps. RP said, “He wants to thank you for the invite. He adds that he has no intention to harm anyone.”

Joel remarked, “I don’t understand, why not? I mean why not? These creatures are supposed to be blood thirsty, heartless killers. It’s doesn’t sound right.”

Sheila said, “Well, he’s not an average Tusken Raider, of course. How many have you ever heard of taking a vacation on Hoth?”

Grutex expounded more rumblings, RP interpreted, “He would like to know if you have any blankets and possibly something to eat. He is still a bit chilled and hungry.”

Sheila smiled at him, and for the first time Grutex witnessed another species look on him and smile. She said, “Sure we do. Sure we do.”

Karl said, “Alright! He’ll have to take his mask off to eat.”

Sheila said, “Joel, can you go heat up a bowl of soup and bring it to our guest? And RP, what do you think about pulling one of the ships universal communicators and isolating a download of Tusken for this guy to wear. You know, maybe put it in his cowl so we can understand each other.”

RP said, “I think it may be possible.”

Joel was stepping out when he muttered, “Never thought I would see the day I would be waiter to a Tusken Raider. What’s the galaxy coming to?”

Karl watched RP leaving and said, “Hey, aren’t you going to ask him to take his mask off?”

 

The Raider: Chapter Three

To paraphrase Luke Skywalker, Tatooine was a planet worth very little. He was certain Tatooine, despite its two suns causing it to light up in space almost like it was a small star itself, was farthest from the brightest place in the universe; a mockery to its own self. Yet Luke, a simple farm boy who aspired to soar amongst the stars of adventure with his friends, had little idea of his own importance or the fact he and his sister would become the bright hopes during a dark age. Neither did he have any idea of the prices he would have to pay to get there.

The Lar’s homestead laid in ruin. Luke had made quick burial of Owen and Beru not far from, unknowing to him, his grandmother Shimi’s unmarked burial site. Smoke still fanned over the horizon signaling curiosity from the neighboring farms. A small green speeder arrived to the decimated farm home, the driver and its passenger exited the speeder and gave inspection of what they found. Huff Darklighter, some called him Huk, who had been piloting the speeder, trekked around the exterior while Nade Sunbar looked through the interior.

Huff kicked at the sand and spat, “Nade! Nade!”

Nade’s chambered voice echoed from within the hut, “Yep?”

“Come on out here. Take a look at this.”

Nade joined Huff who pointed down at the sand, “Bantha tracks. Looks like a Raider attack.”

Nade said, “It’s only a couple, maybe three Banthas at best. Never heard of Tusken Raiders hitting a home with so few. Plus what was the provocation here?”

“I don’t know. Lar’s never had any run ins with them. Mighty brave for Tusken Raiders.”

Nade nodded, “I didn’t see anything stolen either. Well, at least it didn’t look like a robbery from inside. Its ram sacked, but Raider’s normally don’t steal this way.”

Huff nodded also, “Mighty brave.”

Nade added, “You know there is that story, you remember, about how Owen’s step brother killed an entire clan of Tusken Raiders some twenty years or so ago. Think this could be revenge?”

Huff shook his head, “Hell no. Revenge killing? Tusken Raiders? They kill one another easy enough. Just doesn’t sound like Raider behavior at all. None of this.”

Nade too kicked at the sand, “Odd.” He looked around at the flumes of smoke, “Think they got all three of them?”

“I don’t know. My boy Biggs and Luke were good friends. Biggs will hate to hear about this.”

Nade said, “We need to find out what happened here. What if this is the start of something?”

“Any damn Sand People dumb enough to come on my farm will get their fool head blown off. I would think you would do the same. This just doesn’t add up. But I will be blasted before I just sit around and let something else happen.”

“What do we do?”

Huff’s brow deepened and he said, “We rally up the other farmers, head out in to the Jundland,” Huff pointed to the setting suns, “we track these Bantha down and the Sand People, or whoever did this, and we get some answers or we kick some butt.”

RP was applying the finishing touches for the installation of an interpreting communicator inside of Grutex’s cowl. The droid backed away and said in human, “Can you understand me?”

Grutex gave a nod and said; which came out in a thick, deep, human voice through the communicator, “I can understand you. Fascinating.”

RP said, “It’s really quite simple, I programmed a unitary binex of single status dialect into the binding lateral sequence mode. This allowed for faster computations into a real time interpretation with such limited feasibility to a larger data structure…”

Shelia interrupted RP, “Yes, RP. We will read all about it later. Good job.” She turned her attention to the Tusken Raider. “So, new friend. My name is Sheila. Who are you?”

“My name is Grutex.”

“Glad to meet you Grutex. I am so curious to know how you wound up on Hoth.”

Karl said from behind her, “I am so curious to see your face. How about taking that mask off?”

Grutex replied, “I prefer to keep the cowl on. My kind… many find us revolting to look upon. I was exiled from my clan on Tatooine for attempting to expose the corruption of our war lord. I think he wanted to kill me, but instead my life was spared and I was left on the cold planet.”

Joel said, “That’s sounds like a load of bunk, no offense. I have never seen a Tusken fly a star ship. How did they get you to Hoth?”

“A deal was struck with the Empire, who the war lord was making many deals with. Storm troopers flew me to Hoth and left me there, supposedly to die a slow and bitter death.”

Joel pursed his lips, “Well, that makes sense. So what was it about your war lord you didn’t like so much?”

Grutex took the stone around his neck and held it in a precious manner, “There was a girl.”

Karl smiled and said, “Ah, there always is, there always is. Nothing in the universe can get a man in more trouble than a girl.”

Sheila softly touched Grutex’s hand, “She gave you this stone?”

Grutex nodded, “Yes, she gave me this. It is all I have of her now.”

Joel laughed, “So you’re in love? You were freezing to death on Hoth all in the name of love?” Sheila flashed an intensely angry look at Joel, who recoiled a bit, “Which is a good thing to die for, I guess.”

“Our people are not allowed to love. But I do love her. I am different from the rest of them, I always have been. I have to go back and find her, take her away, and the two of us can live together apart from them.”

Sheila smiled, “How romantic.”

Karl said, “You are a true gentle… sand… man.”

Sheila said, “Don’t worry; we will help you get back.”

Joel intervened, “Wait a minute. We have job to do. We can’t go detouring over to Tatooine. “

Sheila replied, “Joel, we make our delivery to the Death Star, then we loop back around to Tatooine. Not a big deal.”

Grutex attempted to word in, but was spoken over by Joel, “That’s a fuel cost, Sheila.”

Again Grutex began gesture to speak, but Sheila spoke over him, “It’s not that far out of the way.”

And an argument progressed between the two until Grutex gave a shout, “Wait! Sorry, pardon me. I just have to know. Are we actually headed to a location with the surname of ‘Death’?”

The three humans made a pause at the question, and in a team like fashion gave a shrug and confirmed indeed they were headed to a location with the surname ‘Death’. Joel said, “We sell them water all the time, it’s what we do.”

Grutex said, “And you never get a bad feeling from this?”

Alarms began to blare on the space craft, “What could that be?” asked Joel.

RP replied, “Ship sync line has reported we have encountered an asteroid field.”

“Asteroids?” exclaimed Joel. “Sheila, I thought we were using the track code from the Death Star, and it noted we would be coming into the Alderaan system.”

“I did,” said Sheila.

“There aren’t supposed to be any asteroid fields around Alderaan,” Joel noted.

RP said, “It also appears that Alderaan is missing.”

Grutex said, “Do you have the bad feeling now?”

Joel said, “Yes, as a matter of fact I do.”

The cockpit of the cargo craft suddenly became a bustle of urgent activities: reading configurations, flipping switches, announcing panics; but none so more important as steering around asteroids. Suddenly, as alarming as the entry to the asteroid field, they were out.

Joel commanded, “I want another read on our location, we have got to be…”

“I have checked three times, Joel,” Sheila said.

“Check again!”

Sheila read the small screen and said, “Alderaan system, Joel. No Alderaan. It’s as though it’s vanished.”

RP said from behind, “If you notice the large amounts of netted energy plus the quantum mass of the asteroid field, I would suggest the asteroids are Alderaan.”

Joel said, “You’re not suggesting it was blown up?”

There was an ominous silence as Joel and Sheila struggled with the obvious answer to the question. Sheila asked, “How could something like that happen? Perhaps there was a collision with another space mass…”

RP said, “The energy net associated contains the signature of a localized energy beam.”

Joel asked, “What could have done this?”

RP stated, “Apparently we are still on course. The Death Star is straight ahead.”

Karl busted into the cockpit, “So, I was thinking we should ask for more pay on this water transport since we had to brush an asteroid field.”

Joel scowled at Karl, who frowned, “No? Did I miss something?”

Sheila said, “We should turn around. Forget this pay day. We can sell to the fleet Star Destroyers until we are ready for a new pay load.”

Joel said, “I agree. Get us out of here. I don’t think it’s a good day to be landing on the Death Star.”

Sheila began the procedure to abort the mission when red signals began flashing all about her console, “What the hell?”

Joel asked, “What’s wrong?”

“We’re caught in a tractor beam. Looks like we will need to make a sell after all.”

The cargo ship was tugged closer and closer to the Death Star, it became an indistinguishable speck, shrinking ever more until swallowed into the beastly space station. The tractor beam lowered it gently to a landing bay floor. A voice sounded over the cockpit com system on the captured star craft, “Your identification has been confirmed. Due to present security situations, prepare to be boarded.”

Joel depressed the intercom, “Boarded? I don’t understand. We have a delivery…”

The voice from the com said, “Prepare to be boarded.”

Joel released the intercom and slumped back in his seat. With great apprehension Karl and Sheila looked at him. He also carried a worried look, and said, “I have no idea. Play it cool. We have nothing to hide.”

Storm troopers, a party of six, boarded the craft. Joel met them in the boarding hold, “What’s this all about?”

The lead trooper said, “Classified security matters. We have detected four life forms and one droid. Have them meet here please.”

“Don’t you want to see my manifest…”

“Just the crew for now.”

Joel nodded, “Okay. There is only three crew members and a droid.”

The trooper looked back at his tablet with the scan results, “We read four humanoid life forms, one droid.”

Joel lightly palmed his forehead, “Oh yeah. The fourth. That’s not a crew, see…”

“Now, sir.”

Joel raised a brow in tension and said, “Sure.” He raised the ship com by his head in the passageway, “I need all aboard front to boarding hold. I repeat, all aboard to boarding hold.” As they waited Joel said, “I thought you would recognize our ship. We make deliveries and have been in contract with the Empire for almost five months now.”

The trooper gave a slight bow type affirmation and said nothing. Soon all aboard the vessel were in the boarding hold. First came Sheila and Karl, followed by RP. Finally, there was Grutex. At the sight of Grutex the lead trooper raised his blaster, and so did the rest of the troopers.

Joel said with great unease, “Hey, wait. What’s happening?”

The trooper said, “Hands up, everyone. Keep them in sight.”

Joel recognized the timing of their alarm and said, “Oh, the Tusken Raider. He won’t hurt us. He’s tame.”

The trooper spoke into his system intercom, “This is XK3694, we have a ship with evidence it has been to Tatooine and a droid.”

Joel interjected, “Look, you have to know…”

The trooper responded to orders through his helmet, “Yes, understood.” He embraced his weapon more firmly, “Everyone off board, now!”

Joel said, “We came from Hoth, not Tatooine.”

The trooper said, “You have a Tusken Raider aboard, and a protocol droid fitting the profile of a droid we may be looking for. Remove yourselves from this vessel now.”

Joel snapped, “You still curious, Karl?” and the crew left the ship.

Inside of a command center aboard the Death Star, a lieutenant spoke into his microphone, “XK694, have the humans placed in a detention cell for questioning. I can’t imagine why the Tusken Raider is with them or what it has to do with any of this. Perhaps we are seeing our first Tusken rebel infiltration. Would make some sense, we have some dealings with the Tusken Raiders on Tatooine. I want the droid scanned for the data plans.” The lieutenant switched off the microphone and turned to a junior officer, “I want the Tusken Raiders on Tatooine detained until we get this sorted out.”

The junior officer issued a salute and briskly headed away to carry out the order. Another junior officer to the lieutenant’s left asked, “Do you think it is possible Tusken Raiders could be playing double agents?”

“I always considered them a barbaric and stupid lot. If they are making deals with us, then it is possible they are making deals with the rebels as well.” The lieutenant thumped his index finger on the desk before him, “Bring the Raider to me now for inspection.”

Grutex sat alone in an empty cell. Inside his mask he wore a most uncomfortable frown. It seemed to him the predicament was beyond his understanding. How could he repair any of the situations before him, and how could he help his new friends also? More so on his mind was the question of how he would ever get back to Tatooine. He never thought he would miss the miserable trappings of the Jundland Wastes, but now he found the idea of the heat and the sand most appealing.

Of course, he longed to see her, most of all…

The door to the cell zipped open and the lieutenant stepped inside. He had a seat across from Grutex. “Curious. A Tusken Raider aboard a cargo vessel. Soon I will have an interpreting droid in here and we will find out what you know.”

Grutex spoke, “There is no reason to wait.”

The lieutenant started in his seat; he blinked his eyes and rubbed pierced his eyes, “Are you a human underneath those rags?”

“No. I have an interpreting module built into my cowl.”

“Clearly odd. How are you affiliated with the Rebel Alliance?”

Grutex said, “I have no affiliation. I was exiled from my clan on Tatooine and placed on Hoth by two of your storm troopers. I was picked up by a space craft and have mistakenly made it here.”

“So, you want me to believe that a Tusken Raider which can, amazingly speak, was sent to Hoth and incredibly survived, only to be picked up by random from a planet with little or no visitation, just to make it here during a moment when we are searching for vital information from a craft in this area?”

“It is the truth. I would say you have the wrong ship.”

“It’s an incredibly weak alibi.”

Grutex leaned forward, “I am simply the victim of some very strange circumstance. I only wish to go back to by clan.”

“That’s too bad. As we speak they are being detained on Tatooine. Besides, Lord Vader’s orders are to have them ultimately terminated when this mission is over. Seems he has a personal dislike for Tusken Raiders.”

Grutex sat up straight, “You can’t do that. They are innocent. Only the war lord has made any dealings with the Empire.”

“We can do it. We will do it. Even if we have to destroy the entire planet, just as we did Alderaan. We will have the Rebels one way or the other.”

Grutex sat silently for a moment and said, “You are making a mistake.”

“I will decide what is and what is not a mistake. If you wish to help your people at all, then you will cooperate.”

Grutex replied, “Allow me to speak to my crew mates and I will have an answer for you.”

The lieutenant smiled, “Yes, go back to their cell and have chat with your friends. I will be awaiting your confession.”

Grutex was shoved into the cell holding his new two friends. Joel asked, “What did they say? What is going on?”

Grutex said, “They are searching for something, and they believe we are Rebel spies and that we may have it.”

Joel threw his arms in fury, “I knew we should have left you on that planet.”

Sheila softly took Grutex’s arm, “Did they say anything else?”

“They did destroy Alderaan,” the three humans contorted in shock. Grutex continued, “Whatever they are looking for, they want it bad enough to destroy an entire planet. If I do not give them a confession that I am a Rebel Spy, they are going to kill my people. Perhaps they plan to kill them anyhow. Lord Vader may have already commanded that my people are killed.”

Karl said, “Lord Vader. Now that’s a mask I would like to take a peek under.”

Joel said, “Karl, you really need to stop.”

Sheila asked, “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t see a way to win. If I confess and we do not have what they are looking for, my people are doomed. If I do not confess, they may still be doomed.”

 

I have skimmed through the opening chapters, with intentions to have a closer read later; but so far...three words: TUSKEN ON HOTH. This is...surreal. In a good, good way.

 

The Raider: Chapter four

“Your life will always be in debt to the decisions you make,” Babgrat had told a young Grutex. “And you will pay, in one way or the other.” Grutex had decided on a particular day to join in on the taunting of weak and sickly Tusken Raider, and Babgrat had spotted it. For once he had wanted to feel as if he was part of the group, one of the gang, and he had achieved it. But he did not feel as though he was part of Babgrat once caught, and this hurt was more. He had made a decision, and he was paying. This was all Babgrat had to say on the matter. It was all Grutex needed to hear.

Joel said to Grutex, “I don’t think it matters whether you give them a confession or not, we are all doomed. How did this happen?”

Karl said, “Well, we were caught in a tractor beam, see? And then when we landed, everyone became real ugly…”

Joel’s temper flared, “I know that part Karl! I mean we aren’t spies! Maybe this Tusken Raider is though. Maybe he is exactly who they are looking for.” Joel leaned in inches from Grutex’s face, “Want to run that by me again, how you came to be on a planet of ice, Tusken Raider? Who were you really running from?”

Sheila insisted, “Joel, that’s enough. We know he isn’t a spy.”

Joel exclaimed, “Do we? Really? Do we?” Joel leaned in closer, “I know your kind. I know all about Tuskens. There is no way you should be out here. When they come back, I am telling them you are indeed a spy, that you confessed to us, and we were all clueless to it. Then I am getting my life back.”

Karl gently pulled Joel back, “Now, captain Joel. This is no way to be. Just take it easy captain.”

Sheila said, “Go back to what life, Joel? They blew an entire planet up. They killed millions of people. You want to save your own skin and go back to selling water to them? Are you wanting to side with them?”

Joel looked away, “No, of course not. I was only in this for the money. I had no idea they were going to destroy planets with this… thing we are on.”

Grutex said softly, “He’s right. Joel is right. I will confess to what they want to hear. You would not be in this prison if I was not here.”

Joel clapped his hands together, “There you go! See? The damn sand head has more sense than the two of you!”

Sheila turned her head in disappointment, and Karl said, “They may have locked us up anyhow, captain. They are killers. And I doubt them letting us go no matter what our mate here says. Grutex, you do what’s right. Don’t let these chaps intimidate you. They already know what they are going to do. If I were you, I wouldn’t tell them a thing.”

The cell door slid open, in stepped the lieutenant and one armed trooper. The lieutenant crossed his arms and said smugly, “So, have we reached a decision in here? Anyone want to tell me a secret?”

Grutex nodded and said, “I would like to tell you what I know.”

The lieutenant brazened with pride and said, “I thought you would.”

“I would like to tell you that no matter how large you feel here now; you stand for something very small.”

The lieutenant’s mouth twisted to an angry purse, and he held a finger towards Grutex, “That is the saddest choice of last words I have ever…”

Abruptly an explosion of echoed blaster fire howled outside the cell door. The sounds were deafening as flashes of energy zipped by. Everyone in the cell cringed, and the lieutenant had to shout above the commotion to the trooper, “See what’s happening out there.”

The trooper had barely stepped through the threshold of the cell when a stray energy bolt caught him in the chest, spilling him back through the doorway in to the cell. Joel ducked and seized the weapon, while at the same time Karl caught the lieutenant by the jaw and pressed him against the wall, only his toes touching the ground. Joel pressed the blaster to the side of the lieutenant’s nose and said, “I should blow your head to a million chunks but I don’t think there is any brain in there.”

Sheila wedged herself between Joel and the lieutenant, and she asked the Imperial officer, “Where is our droid?”

“What?” asked the distressed lieutenant.

“Our droid, where is he?” The lieutenant said nothing; his eyes were swollen wells of fear and he tremored with the resonance of the explosions outside. Joel pressed the blaster harder in to the lieutenant’s face and growled, “Tell the lady what she wants to hear.”

A shaky hand pointed out the door as the lieutenant said, “Down the main hall, to the service elevator, floor X3B, second chamber to the left.” Then he added, “But you will never get there. You will be apprehended as soon as you step out in the open.”

Karl snorted, “We’ll see about that,” and he slammed the lieutenant’s head against the cell wall. The lieutenant flopped to the floor like a marionette whose strings had been cut. The firing outside in the hallway was becoming more violent. Joel leaned his ear in the doorway, careful not to stick his head outside.

Grutex asked, “What do you hear?”

Joel answered, “Someone just yelled, ‘Get in there, you furry oaf! I don't care what you smell! ‘”

They all heard a human howling, and the firing stopped. Joel gently peeked outside, “Well. That lieutenant was right about one thing. There’s a bunch of troopers at the end of this hall. We’ll never get by them.”

Grutex bent down and unsnapped the dead trooper’s helmet, removing it, and handed it to Karl, “Not if you two dress in these uniforms and lead Sheila and I out.”

Sheila nodded, “That just might work.”

Karl held the empty helmet across from his face and looked into the empty mask, frowning, “Just my luck,” he nodded towards Grutex, “Haven’t got to look under his mask, and now I have to put one on.”

Sheila and Grutex placed cuffs on their arms, loosely though, in case they were to have the need to slip out of them. Karl and Joel quickly dressed in the Imperial attire, and the odd crew began their way down the hallway to the prison block command room. Once there, the room was buzzing with activity. Eight troopers were busy collecting data and accessing damage. Grutex and his team walked slowly through them, and were about to exit the other end, when someone said, “Hey, you.”

The team froze and looked around; a single trooper by the exit had removed his helmet and was filling a small cup with water. He had short black hair and large golden brown eyes, “Yeah, you,” he gestured towards Grutex. “Don’t I know you?”

Grutex motioned to himself inquisitively.

“Yeah, you. I know you. I see you’re back in cuffs again. Aren’t you the Raider we left on Hoth?”

Sheila elbowed Joel in the rib and stared off in a superior fashion, as if to say, I told you so.

“Me?” asked Grutex.

The face of the trooper brightened, “Sack of sarlaac! You can speak. I wouldn’t forget you. Remember, I am the one who suggested we remove the cuffs before stranding you on Hoth.”

“And yet you still left me there.”

The trooper gave a pleasant face of apology, “No hard feelings, huh? I was just doing what they ordered. Looks like you did alright though… in a way.” He sipped the water again, “This is the best, coldest water anywhere. Good stuff.”

Joel, who was dressed like an Imperial lieutenant, asked, “Really? You think so? The best you have ever had?”

The trooper suddenly stiffened and saluted, “Yes sir. It is good water. I had better get back to duty.”

Joel said, “That’s right soldier. Stop fraternizing with the prisoner. We have things to do.”

The trooper gulped down the last of his water, grimacing because the acute cold of the water bit at the nerves in his head, and fumbled to place his helmet back on. He slightly lifted the helmet once again and let the small cup drop out.

The team exited the control room and started briskly down the hall. “You knew that guy, Grutex?”

“We’re oddly acquainted.”

Sheila led them to through the directions to the holding room where RP was. The door slid open and the droid was standing alone, silently, beside one of the many computer consoles in the room. The door slid shut behind them. Sheila slipped her cuffs off and gave RP a hug, “They haven’t erased you have they?”

“No ma’am,” RP stated, “My erasure is scheduled exactly two hours and…”

Sheila laughed, “Yeah, it’s still you. Did they hurt you in any way?”

“Technically I cannot feel pain. But if you are referring to any mechanical damages which could arise from abusive handling, then no.”

Sheila turned back to the trooper armored Karl, “Do you think he can interface?”

Karl removed his helmet and said, “No problem there. Grutex, this is a sight for a protocol droid. I like to tinker, and I have made some major modifications to this metal man.” Karl pulled a hidden interface chord and adapter from beneath the robot’s abdominal skin, “RP here can hack anything, and I mean anything! A true pirate’s droid for sure.” He plugged the interface chord into one of the console jacks.

Sheila asked, “Can you access the main, RP?”

“There are two encryptions laying over it. Just one moment. I am through them and into the main.”

Karl slapped Grutex on the back and laughed, “I told you. Amazing. I planted a mass octet mother board in him, but I can’t tell you how I got my hands on that.”

Grutex said, “I don’t know what that means.”

“It means,” said Joel, “RP can hack in to most anything made. As a matter of fact, if he can’t hack in to it, then it probably doesn’t exist.”

“This is odd,” said RP.

“What is it?” asked Sheila.

“There is another droid close by. It is surfing the system, frantically attempting to shut down all of the garbage compactors on the prison level, but it cannot decrypt the security. It has detected my presence and has asked for help, shall I?”

Karl said, “Sure, why not.”

There was a brief moment, and RP said, “I have shut down the garbage compactors on the prison level and notified this unknown droid. It sends its thanks.”

Sheila said, “RP, we need to get back to our ship.”

“I’m afraid that will not happen. There is currently a can crew on our ship, and they are scheduled to be there for a while.”

Joel pounded his fist on a console, “Damn! Not my ship!”

Sheila asked, “Is there another ship? One with no one aboard?”

“There is one. But I am afraid it will do us no good. The tractor beams are still up and cannot be dismantled from the main. They have been manually locked.”

Grutex said, “Leave those to me.”

Karl said, “Sorry, but why not Karl or me? We are dressed up, we can do it easily.”

“RP may need you, plus there is a chance whoever dismantles the tractor beam could be left behind.”

Joel said, “Those are very good points.”

“Besides,” said Grutex, “you are a family. I can’t allow a family to be broken.”

RP instructed Grutex on where to go and what to do in order to turn the tractor beams off. Sheila gave Grutex a hug and said, “We know you can do it. We won’t leave without you.”

Joel said, “The hell we won’t. You have five minutes after you shut it down. If you’re not on the ship by then, this is your new home.”

Karl asked RP, “So, you have found a ship?”

RP replied, “Indeed. But I don’t know if you are going to like it.”

Sheila said, “We’ll take anything. Let’s go.”

Grutex kept to the shadows in the corridors. There seemed to be a state of urgency which kept the attentiveness of the Death Star crew occupied. All the while, he had a strange sensation of being closer to something. He could not describe the feeling. It was the same sort of feeling he would get when he was young and had come tumbling home to Babgrat, a safe feeling, a secure feeling.
He paused in the shadows beyond one of the tractor beam terminals; on it he saw a most curious sight. Hanging to the back edge over a deep conduit pit was a robed figure. The figure seemed to be doing Grutex’s task for him. It appeared someone else was in need vanquishing the tractor beam also. Grutex thought to himself, “If I had known this, I would have stayed behind.”

A voice came over the communication receiver in Grutex’s cowl, it was RP, “Master Grutex, I have just confirmed the tractor beam is shut down. Congratulations on your expedient actions.”

Grutex asked, “How are you speaking to me?”

“I channeled into the radio system of the Death Star. I can send and receive to most any communicator on the base.”

“Outstanding. Are you at the ship yet?”

RP said, “We are close. Please come hastily.”

When Grutex looked up, the robed figure was gone. He was no longer in the mood to play in the shadows, and he felt a good run for it would be fine. As he dashed down the corridor he turned a corner and almost ran into a hulking, dark apparition. At first he was unsure if it was human, droid, or perhaps even a spirit from the legends of the nether world. It had a venting, hollow breath channeling in and out, steadily, and monotonously. Its face was a gargoyle-ish face of death, and a robing cape fell from its shoulders to almost touch the ground.

The two stood facing one another. The black gloved hand of the sinister figure reached forward, and Grutex clasped his throat. The Raider was suspended inches from the floor and thrust back against the wall by an invisible force. Grutex struggled, but he could not release the power of the unseen grip. As he began to black out, Grutex could feel the hate and rage expounding itself in his mind. The rage was a dark, cold fire which had burned inside the sinister being’s soul for ages. It was a fury made the dark side of life itself.

Grutex could see into the anger, visions passed by him like lamps in a mist. He saw himself, as a babe, in his mother’s arms. He watched her hold him close, and caress him. Suddenly, she was frightened, and she hid the babe. A being entered her home with a shining sword of light and struck her down. Grutex had clarity; the being attacking him now was the same who had killed his mother so many years ago.

Darth Vader released the Tusken Raider. Something had distracted him, some sensation he had not had in ages. Vader looked up the corridor and saw the robed figure approaching. He left the unconscious Raider behind and marched to confront to his old master.

RP’s voice was insistent over Grutex’s ear piece and eventually drew him to consciousness. “Master Grutex, can you hear me?” Grutex muttered a yes, coming. When he lifted his head, he saw a blinding display of energy crackling and hissing. The dark sinister being and the robed figure from earlier were at duel with light sabers. The battle was more than midway, when the robed figure stopped fighting and held his energy sword before him. Grutex watched in horror as the dark figure coiled back to send a deep swing, “No, don’t,” Grutex whimpered.

The empty robe fell to the floor.

Blaster erupted into what sounded like another gun fight, and the dark figure walked hurriedly away. There was a general chaos of troopers routing around to another passage, and then silence. Grutex lifted himself and walked over to the dropped robe. He touched it with his foot, and it strangely reminded him of the taun taun skin which had kept him alive on Hoth. Something shiny was laying in the folds of the robe. It was a shiny cylinder.

Grutex wielded the light saber and switched it on. An understanding had been established with him when Vader had pumped him full of venomous hate, an understanding within every fiber of his being. Something in him had been awakened, something inside of him which is inside of all living being and slumbers. He switched the saber off and hurried up the corridor to meet his friends.

The other four were standing behind a viewing shield, and Sheila’s mouth was ajar. She said, “You’re right RP, I don’t like it.”

“It is the only vacant dry dock, and this is the only ship ready for flight within a vacancy,” said RP.

Grutex stepped behind the viewing shield with them. He said nothing, and though his cowl and mask were expressionless, his body jolted with a very readable shock.

Joel said, “You have got to be kidding me.”

Sheila asked, “RP, can you hack it and get it out of here?”

RP said, “Certainly. I can modularly pilot this much easier than I could ever manually pilot a ship.”

Karl said, “This is going to be one hell of a ride.”

Grutex said, “I have a very, very, very bad feeling about this.”


RP said, “Of course one of you will have to pilot one of the shuttles so we can board it.” Beyond the viewing shield, resting below in the dry dock, pointing outwards, facing the dark reaches of space, it sat. Broad and fat, it shadowed the dock floor. Empowering. Threatening. The Star Destroyer awaited its new, very small, and humble crew.