Tatooine

[Rose Cariadus]

Cyar’ika

 

A phrase, or word that she had tossed around so easily in the bar no felt very much more real while treating the bleeding man. She pulled off one of the blue gloves from her hand and used her now much more agile bare fingers to finish the bandaging, hooking and weaving the bacta impregnated fabric around the wounds in the Tusken’s legs. She absentmindedly looked down at her blue painted fingernails, then sat down beside him on the abandoned speeder as Dark began his work on her. Rose placed her bare hand on the rough fabric covered shoulder of the Tusken and smiled, fumbling with the clutches of the thigh armour with her other gloved hand which was slick with blood.

 

“Cyar’ika means darling. It is a term of love or endearment. And I treat you like a brother in arms because you are one. I’m not going to let you die now that I’ve seen and kissed that handsome face.” Her hand tightened down on his firm shoulder as the stinging antiseptic was poured into her puncture wound. She blinked a lock of sweaty blue hair out of her eyes, and looked him again in the face. “Kriff yeah, you are quite handsome yourself, if in a weatherbeaten kinda gruff way. But what is your name Cyar’ika? My name is Rose, Rose Cariadus, though you can call me anything you want, Gamma Blue was popular back on Lorrd.” She looked at Dark and grinned a toothy smile as he finished up his patching. "And thank you for being here to treat me Dark, I appreciate it you know."

 

Her blue eyes looked out past the Tusken to squint at the distant horizon with skepticism. “I don’t think your people will get very far without technology in their veiled crusade. Sounds kinda suicidy to me.”

[Wyvernfall]

Rruror’rur’rr smiled as he listened to the woman; allowing her to squeeze his shoulder as the strange robotized being began to work on her. After Rose had finished speaking, the Tusken shook his head as he responded to both her and the query of the other being who seemed to be some sort of brother to the female he had fought, "We have been here for time eternal. My people. For generations we have been born to and died in these sands. We are the land just as we are from it. We rely on the land to provide, not on our selfish pride and reliance on foul technology. Because of that that we shall be victorious.”

 

Looking from Rose’s exposed face and oddly mesmerizing blue hair, he followed her gaze out towards the horizon taking in the pale nothingness so many outsiders saw where he saw life, death, hope, and home. ”We were here long before your kind came….” his voice trailed off as he watched the burning twin suns chasing one another slowly across the sky, leaving the unsaid, but thought, and will be here long after your kind are gone hanging unspoken in the ether.

 

Sitting there in relatively silence, he allowed himself to relax, if only slightly. He still had his gaderffi and his rifle. Perhaps I have proven something to these demons after all he pondered.

 

After several minutes of silence, save for Dark’s working he remembered, she had asked him his name and had given hers in turn. ”Rose,” it was a simple name; a name far simpler than the creature who he had just fought with. Maybe it means something in their strange tongue he concluded after giving it some thought.

 

Raising his hand he tapped his own chest and with a short multi-syllabic bark gave his own name, ”Rruror’rur’rr.”

 

Staring back out to the vast expanse of the wastelands that were his home he sighed, his hand nonchalantly slipping over Rose’s armored leg next to him, as a shadowy winged figure broke from the horizon of the wastelands before them, a black speck in the distance; wings flapping as it slowly grew nearer and nearer.

[Dar'Manda]

I listened closely to the Tusken as he spoke, my assumption standing correct as he nearly cloned the exact words that he had heard hundreds of times from others he had slain over the last few years exploring Tatooine. As this Tusken, or rather this man, held no clue to who he was. But either way, I, the once blind son of Clan Bralor knew all too different. Speaking in the Tusken's dialect, I mentioned a phrase that would ring true on both of lineages as warriors, roughly translating to the following. "From Dust we are born, and to dust we shall return upon death, embraced by the spirits of those that came before us"

 

Leaning back onto the speeder where we had congregated, feeling more like a third wheel right about now as the two love birds stared off into the distant setting of the twin suns, I couldn't help but find myself pitying the man behind the Tusken wraps right about now. There was no way to know his back story, nor where he was truly from. But after seeing his face, gazing upon him with my forbidden sight, there was no denying it. He wasn't born into them. I had gazed upon enough of them to know this fact. Thinking back to my own linage, the reason behind my false name, what lead to me being the last of my Clan and branded Dar'Manda, in a way, I felt a slight kinship, even if I despised what he considered kin.

 

"Rruor'rur'rr?" I questioned in a jestly manner, a simple chuckle erupting from my drying mouth that nearly led to a cough. "Can I call you Rru for short? I am Atlas Dark of Clan Bralor." I stretched my arm outward and up toward him, preparing to grasp his just below the elbow should he return the offer in the warriors handshake.

[Rose Cariadus]

Rose cocked her head to the side, letting her blue hair touch her shoulder armour. Her voice carried no mockery in it but inly a tinge of sadness.

 

“So your people have been here for generations and have accomplished nothing but scraping out an existance in the sand dunes? Your people must have been once destined for greatness, but whatever that destiny was, you must have taken a wrong turn. Perhaps you need and injection of technology and a side of passion and brutality. Then maybe you can accomplish more than killing a moisture farmer here or there…” She rocked her head to the other side and reached her bare hand out towards his gruff face, her other grasping his tightly on her thigh. She touched the tip of his nose with the tip of her pointer finger and smiled.

 

“Isn’t that right RoarRoar? We can all find a place in the stars to ravage and bring glory to our Gods. You too Dark...” She said, trying but failing to pronouce his name correctly. Her eyes narrowed as she watched a flying beast approach.

[Wyvernfall]

Even as he slowly shook his head, his gaze turned to Dark. He could not be somewhat shocked at the mechanized being's observation of his people's basic beliefs. Still, it was clear that they did not understand the nuances of his people and he did not have enough time to teach them, outsiders, of his people's thousands of years of history. Besides, he was not a storyteller. It was not his place. Still, he had condemned himself thus far, what could a brief explanation hurt. He also appreciated the being's effort and returned the embrace of warriors that transcended cultures and beliefs.

 

He gestured out at the dunes as his vision returned to the shifting sands and spoke in his native tongue, understanding that at least Dark understood him and assuming that as such, so did the beauty he was now seated beside,

 

"There is much more to this land than the few cities of you outlanders. Overall, we have kept your kind contained. The magics of the far off secrets that no offworlders has gazed upon for generations have been protected."

 

Pausing as his eyes turned to look at Rose as he spoke, he stopped talking at the look of lost confusion on Rose' face as he spoke, he realized that perhaps she did not understand even the little bit of his people that he had assumed. Truthfully, this warmed his heart. He would be able to teach her as she taught him.

 

Switching to a gruff galactic basic he continued,

 

"Countless generations ago the oppressors came from the stars and stole all of our water. They killed and enslaved millions. We, the strong, fought back. We were not enslaved. We were not taken by the techno-dependent monsters from beyond. Today, we that are descended from those righteous warriors continue to stave off the would be takeover by the descendants of those who were taken and indoctrinated by the demons and even the demons themselves."

 

Pausing he pondered on the words Rose had said before he continued

 

"Once our planet was lush and green. Filled with plants and water. The demons stole our water and killed our people. After we fought back and drove these techno-bound demons from our planet. In turn, they rained fire down upon our planet and turned it into a single giant wasteland of rippling crystal. For generations we existed, struggling to survive. Eventually the crystal crumbled to the sands you see today. Then the demon spawn returned. We drove them off time and time again and will do so yet again."

 

The drexl screeched a cry of anger and passion, as it pulled up and landed in a rolling plume of sand and dust. Rruror'rur'rr smiled as he turned to his newfound comrades, his face wrinkling all through his cheeks as the rare sign of joy spread across his hardened jawline. Gesturing at the nearby ferocious beast with a sweeping open hand, he spoke again,

 

"Raka. The beast that the ancestors blessed me with when I fought through and escaped the hell of the demons. Together we shall drive the demons and their ilk from my home. Perhaps, together, we can teach one another. You can teach me of your ways, your people, and your passions and I can show you the ways of my people and how we survive against those who would see us destroyed. I would even be willing to journey from my home with you to learn of your offworld ways."

 

The ancestors had somehow cursed him and yet had chosen not to end him. He really did not know what to do; but he knew that he had crossed so many lines already. Why not follow his heart's desires and join these offworld invaders? Learn their ways? By learning the ways of the offworld invaders he would be better prepared to return home and drive the demons away for good.

 

Who needs Glory? Glory is in living when everything, even the air, seeks to destroy you.

[Dar'Manda]

I sat in silence for a moment as the two finished conversing, my gaze upon the distance, lost within my own thoughts despite their words having caught my hearing here and there. Ross's offer from before, only solidified by her recently secondary offer to join her and her 'vod, brought forth emotions I had not felt in over a decade, a purpose I had all but left behind me. A smirk came across my face, sly and devilish, as I thought of the fate working behind the scenes.

 

"It's likely his ancestor's turned away from technology after the destruction of their lush planet..." I spoke, gathering a handful of sand and letting it pour from the bottom of my clenched fist as I remembered back to stories I had heard of Tatooine's history. "Scolars of every sort have came from all across the galaxy, hiring protectorates as they venture out in search of questions to that very answer, very few ever returning with their humble finds."

 

I stood, looking toward the horizon, my mind fluttering off in the distance as if I was gauging something, almost as I was looking for something. And while I was, I didn't mention it yet, rather conversing on my own thoughts of the Tusken heritage. "It's a common belief that the Jawas and Sand People are descendants of the original race, yet, it's never been completely proven given the differences in DNA. But given the history of Tatooine, and it's history with the Infinite Empire of Rakata, I suspect that is why the Sand People resent technology. It was the original race, probably a space faring race, that doomed Tatooine in the first place. And if the Jawas and Sand People are truly their descendants, that would explain why the Sand People resent technology while the Jawas embrace it."

 

By now I had seen what I was looking for, the rise of the familiar hill toward the West. Turning around, I climbed onto a nearby speeder, it's engines churning to life as it hummed its first breath in a couple of moons. Turning toward Rose and Tru, I playfully grinned at the two before my visor swung shut, it's mechanical gears whirling behind a red glow. "Before we set off to join your vod Rose, there is something I must retrieve, something my Clan has carried for generations. Will you aid me? And you, Rru, I suspect you would not turn down a great hunt. Shall we appease your ancestors with honor?

 

The trip was only a few clicks away, through the trenches of the fallen Tuskens I had slayed only a week ago, and past an old homestead that I knew all too well. It would be a worthy hunt for us all, but given the condition of the two, I would carry most of the payload. Either way, what I sought must be retrieved before I joined them, and their Mandalore tested by me and me alone in single combat to see if he or she was worthy to carry the title I carried for nearly half my life.

[Rose Cariadus]

Rose watched the Drexl land in a wave of sand and dust. She smiled back to the Tusken with a mixture of inquisition on her lips and mirth.

 

“Roarroar why don’t we just steal another planet’s water and bring it back here, i'm sure we could do it, seven hells they moved planets with giant hyperspace engines back when I was a kid let go kill some Mon Calamari and then steal their water and dump it en masse here?” Well to do that they would need a few more people than the three gathered next to the drexel but it was an objective for the future. She leaned down and grabbed the dead jawa’s arm that she had brained earlier and began to drag the corpse towards the drexel. Grinning like a maniac.

 

“Here Raka, snack time buddy.” She slung the corpse like a dead frisbee at the beast who caught it in its mouth. She turned back to Roar and raised both of her fingers in a ‘V’ sign before walking back.

 

She sighed and tucked her blue hair behind her ears before reaching for her helmet.

“Atlas, I will join you on this hunt. As long as at the end I can have both of your aid in assisting the rising Mandalore on Qat Chrystac, there is a crusade to fight and a million worlds to conquer. Though that can wait until after we have all healed and hunted a bit. And I must get you some Beskar Roarroar, I would hate to see you get shredded before I get a chance to know you better. I could even fit you for the armour myself if you wanted.” She giggled.

[Wyvernfall]

A hunt, now there was something that every young Tusken knew intrinsically. In fact, it was part of the sacred coming-of-age rituals undergone by every Tusken to ever stalk the dunes. Nodding, more to himself, than anything Rruror’rur’rr smirked. Yes, he would undertake a hunt with these two offworlders; if for anything, to see how and who they were and for another….

 

He cast a sidelong glance in Rose’ direction just as she started off with the dead Jawa.

 

It could not fight and thus it died. He reasoned to none but himself. Such was the code of the desert.

 

As Rose walked back, the Drexl happily crunching the bones of the deceased rodent-like being, Rruror’rur’rr dug in one of his belt pouches and removed a single lengthy strip of rough wrapping colored the same as the desert sands. With expert hands, from a lifetime of practice, he began to carefully wrap his breather and goggles about his face one pass at a time. Even as he wrapped his head, his eyes never left Rose.

 

Mandalore? Chrystac? Beksar? What are these things?

 

What Rruror’rur’rr did know was twofold. First, neither of these could properly pronounce his name, a minor irritation that he’d have to work on. Second, this offworld vixen was offering him a chance to fight alongside her, albeit off world as they conquered together. What better way to learn the ways of the invading demons than by conquering them at their own homes and camps?

 

Beneath his mask, Rruror’rur’rr grinned, his muscles pulling at the still fresh wound along the side of his face. This might just be enjoyable after all. The ancestors did not seem to be urging caution, on the contrary, it would seem, they were urging him to follow. Cursed or not, Rruror’rur’rr would do his best to learn these new ways to preserve the old. Perhaps someday he would return home again.

 

And if that wasn’t enough, The Tusken was pretty sure he caught the subtle hint that Rose threw at him with the armor bit. He couldn’t say he wouldn’t enjoy that!

 

”Let us hunt.” he growled as he pushed himself off the speeder in a single hop to the sand below where the fearsome desert nomad collapsed with a grunt of pain as his gashed leg, still unable to support his full weight, collapsed beneath him.

 

Rruror’rur’rr was glad that neither of them, especially Rose, could see his face, bright red with embarrassment as it was. Using his gaderffi for support, he grimaced against the pain that shot threw his leg fresh as ever and pushed himself upwards to a standing position; the weight of his injured leg held mostly by his heavy leaning on his makeshift durasteel weapon.

 

Nearby, Raka threw his head back in a fearsome snarling howl, sensing the pain of his master through their shared bond.

 

Reaching down, The Tusken picked up his aged slug throwing rifle and slung it over his shoulder and carefully hobbled towards his bucking mount, before turning to Atlas and Rose. ”lead the way,” he grunted in his native tongue, before glancing at Rose and jabbing a thumb over his shoulder towards Raka with a playful tilt of his head. He was not sure what she thought of the fearsome beast or if she would be more comfortable atop a mechanized speeder favored by many of the offworlding visitors, but it wouldn’t hurt him to offer. At least not yet.

[Dar'Manda]

"You will have it, " I spoke in response to Rose's request, a nod of my visor in a manner of giving my word before I turned toward Rru, a name that in my mind fit him perfectly. "I hear Krayt Dragons scales make fine armor. And with those words lingering upon the wind, I chuckled and sped away.

 

I had already set my plan in motion, a slaughter of Bantha upon the horizon to lure in the prey I was vigilant on ever watching, keeping tabs upon the present that I had hidden within its form, a means of concealing what I wished and never being found without my knowledge unless a warrior worthy of it claimed it for themselves. Yet, as fate would have it, I would be that warrior to retrieve it, and presenting it anew to a warrior I would need to seem worthy of my own sight. Fate, such a fickle concept, yet it's power immeasurable.

 

Zooming across the sands, I whined past an old farmstead that long held childhood memories for me, a dear friend and fellow warrior whose life began and ended there. Nearly lost to the sands of time now, it laid half buried beneath an encompassing dune, it's history all but forgotten by the loves it held and my own memory, it's fate mirroring my own. House of Armegedon, it's only surviving member with whereabouts unknown to all but he, his lineage dating back as far as the Force Orders themselves.

 

By the time I arrived, the three humble probe droids hovered in unison through-out the carnage, their lure hinting at a nibble by the distant rumble that snaked its way toward me. Dismounting, the Rryk Blades sat perched outward, ready for battle, ready for a truly magnificent hunt. As Rose and Rru began to arrive, I motioned them to ready themselves. Rru would revel in what laid in store, a hunt worthy of honor in his people's misguided ways. And Rose, if not frozen in awestruck, would find this to be the greatest test of her life. Yet, despite their injuries, my faith in the two seemingly held firm. Passing Rru my KX-80 rifle, I spoke but a few humble words. "You'll need this."

 

For nearly a decade I had laid this day out to perfection. The beast we hunted fed daily at this exact location as to keep tabs upon it as well as provide a means of keeping it local should I ever need to retrieve the item I awarded it when I first came to Tatooine. And as the sand began to shift and stir in the distance, I knew that my efforts were not in vain. A grimacing chuckle erupted from beneath my darkened Beskar visor, quickly followed by a devilish grin as my prey came ever so closer.

 

The sands began to rise, at first no more than a simple mound. But then horns began to emerge, and the mound grew ever so largely, just as the head of the nearly one hundred and thirty meter beast reared upward for the first bite of the day, quickly devouring the Bantha it had just taken. I looked toward the two that accompanied me, giving a humble nod toward them as the beast devoured a second. Without a word, I charged forth, the hum and explosion of the engines upon my back igniting and lifting my form into the air and toward the greater Krayt Dragon with haste. Yes, today was a day worthy of such a hunt.

 

((1))

[Rose Cariadus]

Lorrdians were not renowned hunters, but Rose had fought this instint since she was a child the thrill of the hunt that was usually lacking in large game hunts was now in full force, the very real threat of getting eaten was something that kept her blood flowing and her eyes sharp. She slipped her helmet on over her blue hair and followed her new clan into the battle against the mighty wyrm. She did not so desire to kill it but she did covet the experience it would bring her and also the eggs that it seemed to be guarding.

 

She leaned towards her dear RoarRoar

 

“Do you think I can have one of those eggs it has? I want a baby one to play with.”

 

A little crazy of a request, but it would do.

 

((apologies for the crappiness of this post, super busy weekend))

[Wyvernfall]

The sight, and even more so the smell, of rotting bantha flesh caused the edges of Rruror’rur’rr’s view to cloud red. The rage he felt welling up in his soul tugged at his chest and urged him to action as his massive winged mount and comrade swooped low to allow Rose to dismount at the same time as Dark handed him a rifle. Rruror’rur’rr took the weapon; albeit more out of reaction than willingness to utilize an unknown weapon from someone he had just met, just as a massive head burst through the sands and devoured the sacred beast that had lay bleeding on the dry sands.

 

In that same instant, Raka reared back, and Rruror’rur’rr and his drexl mount burst upwards into the cloudless sky. Circling the scene from above, The Tusken took in the scene from the relative safety of the skies. From his vantage point, he spotted a dune several hundred meters away. With barely a nudge of his feet, the massive scaly beast turned and swooped towards the dune, coming to a landing with a spray of sand and dust.

 

Leaping from the beast as it skittered to a halt, Rruror’rur’rr tucked and rolled, his wounded leg screaming in pain as he tumbled to a stop his rifle and gaderffi swinging about wildly and the KX-80 tumbling in the sands. Pulling his head up as he stopped, the Tusken smiled to himself as he made out his newfound comrades. Right where I need to be… he thought to himself as he shrugged his worn tusken cycler off his shoulder and pulled it forward.

 

((1))

[Dar'Manda]

The beast reared its massive head as I flew forth toward his, its fangs snarling at my puny form, the poisonous venom already dripping from its cuspids as it drew its serpent like neck back and lunged forward for its first attack. Had I been an inexperienced lackey hired to protect, it would have gobbled me in more seconds. But no, that was its first mistake. For I had hunted its lesser kin for nearly a decade, Krayt and Tuskens alike, any who wished harm upon those I chose to protect. And as its head neared me, I slung my form aside and placed a well deserved punch to its nostril, causing the beast's head to fall backwards almost in disbelief. No, I would not go so easily. If it wanted me, it would have to fight with all its might.

 

And so the beast would this day, for as soon as it recovered from my first blow, it moved its massive form aside and brought about its tail in an attempt to catch me off guard. Yet again it failed, for unlike the beast before me, I was lighter and quicker despite my own massive size, shrouding myself in a smoke screen as tear gas leaked from my form and enveloped me within its darkened cloud. Leaning backwards, I reared away, unleashing a barrage of blasterfire I lit up its side with my gatling gauntlet just before my cybernetic hand twisted to side and allowing two simultaneous plasma grenades to launch themselves behind the barrage.

 

The beast let out a roar of pain that echoed through-out the region, likely sending distant beings into a frenzied flee as its sounds reach kilometers away. But it was not done yet. Like a beast backed into a corner, it would fight until its dying breath, and soon came at me feriously. Angered and in dire pain, much like myself, it held firm that it would not go quietly, if at all. It struck at me again with its tail, causing me to flee its reach, but this time its head awaited me, jaws wide open. Unable to react, I soon found myself clutched between its powerful jaws, my cybernetic form versus its natural encompassing strength as my form struggled to keep it bite open, glowing red and smoking as we two fought for the better to survive.

 

Yes. Today was the day of the great hunt and I had chosen my prey wisely. Too long had I been without a worthy opponent, an adversary worthy of my struggle. And beneath the mask that adorned my face, I grinned while heartily, for today I had found such. Smoke poured from its mouth as it bellowed outward, making my form impossible to see from within its jaws, yet I was there, and more alive than I had been in so very long. Today my soul filled with a warriors pride, no longer feeling the burden of Dar'Manda, but rather the living spirit of Clan Bralor, and I reveled in it. This was the moments I lived for and dreamed of.

 

Using my cybernetic strength, combined with the force of the jetpack upon my back releasing its inferno at full power, I grinned, feeling the beast away its serpent like head as it fought to close its jaws and seal my demise. But this was its second mistake, granting me an opportune moment to slide my hand forward and brace its jaws with one of the Ryyk Blades just long enough to once again let loose a barrage of blaster fire from the gatling gauntlet and setting its throat aflame with its burning plasma and granting my release.

 

Flying upward and out of its grasp, my heart pounding with such velocity that it felt as if it was going to burst, the adrenaline within me pumping at full speed, I gave praise for the first time in a long time for the opponent that I faced this day. My form covered in its venomous drool, thankful the beskar held up under such pressure and I held no scratch for it to bleed into, I drew ready for my last and final attack. All I needed was for Rose and Rru to play their part as distractions, and after seeing my fight with the greater Krayt Dragon so far, surely I had inspired them.

 

((2))

[Rose Cariadus]

Legs...it had ten of them to support its massive weight but it was still wickedly fast, its maw capable of swallowing entire speeders whole. A little more than a relaxing hunt. She fed another large magazine into the T-21 repeater that she held with one hand as she hurtled through the air, dodging left and right of the beast as she pumped fire into its flanks to keep it distracted. WHen the powerpack was firmly in place, Rose blinked her eyes twice, her HUD recognized the commands and activated the Viper class grenade launcher attached to her shoulder and it spat a stream of HighEx shells into the hind legs. The thing was bigger than a CR-90 and it seemed to only be taking the blows of her and her brothers in arms like a bantha would take a pet from a human.

 

The explosions turned sand into sheets of glass that shattered in blissful sparkles as she sent another hail of fire into the probably hole she had just made. Then the tail of the beast plucked her from the air like a man swatting a fly. The beskar did its best to combat the impact but she could feel the impact crack across her chest and torso with the force of a freight speeder. Something snapped behind her ears and her breath left her lungs and her jetpack struggled to recover but she smashed into a dune of sand dozens of meters below her nonetheless. Her HUD greyed out and she skidded for dozens of feet before stopping. The sand rubbing the blue off her armour in smooth circles. Superheating the underunderweave, and then tearing into the flesh below it.

 

She wheezed in a breath and screamed into her dark helmet with the pain every breath took. Stabbing pain shot up and down her body and she ripped off her helmet as it remained shut off and useless from the impact. She looked down at herself and gasped which in turn caused another scream of pain. Her legs were twisted at an odd angle from her body and the sand was becoming a dark omber and sticky with blood. Her blue eyes blinked and she lay back in the sand testing her leg movement which was having little effect except widening the patch of red-black sand.

 

Oh

 

Luckily her arms remained usable and her military mind took that into count, her fingers tightening around a hornlike spine that was peeking out from behind her chest armour, slick with red blood and some kind of slippery slime that burned to the touch. She was very much out of the fight now.

 

Her voice was a whisper as she looked out to the now distant fight.

 

“I’m kriffed up roarroar…”

[Wyvernfall]

Rruror’rur’rr pulled the butt of his aged rifle tight into his shoulder like he had a thousand times before, the weapon finding its natural resting place like a bird coming home to roost. Staring down the barrel of the rifle, he quickly got an up close view of the battle scene unfolding before him. Overhead, his massive drexl mount circled hungrily - a foreign apex predator seeing another apex predator encroaching on what he now felt was his territory. Of course, it did not help at all that his mystical connection to the Tusken below and his unwavering desire to take down the massive beast transmitted between them both, fueling their desires for victory and bloodshed.

 

Staring down the barrel as he had countless times before, Rruror'rur'rr watched the scene unfolding before him a safe distance away. He watched as the mysterious being who called himself Atlas was nearly swallowed up by the massive king of the dunes only to be rocketed upward to safety as if the ancestors had plucked him from the maw of death at the last possible moment. ”The man is truly a demon or some sort of monster,” he growled to himself In his native tongue before adding, ”and most likely totally insane!” Still, The Tusken knew that the maw of such a beast contained more death than its crushing, swallowing, gnashing teeth and mouth clearly presented to the average offworlder. Many-a-Tusken had fallen to the bite of the dragon and his kin days after a successful hunt. The saliva of the beast having eaten holes in the gangrenous wounds their teeth inflicted.

 

Suddenly, several explosions rocked the battlefield and Rruror’rur’rr winced, even from his safe distance away. Explosions were not usually a good thing in his experience; unless they were symbolizing a crashing pod or offworld vessel that had been desecrating his people’s sacred sands. Returning his focus to the battle, Rruror’rur’rr searched for an opportunity to pull the trigger. He and his brethren had fought smaller dragons before, never one this big though. Still, he suspected that these dragons had the same weakness. At least he hoped they did. Maybe at the very least it would prove to the black armored man below that the Tuskens were well worth the mettle.

 

Inhale.

 

Exhale.

 

Inhale.

 

Exhale.

 

Hold.

 

Rruror’rur’rr’s finger gently began to apply pressure to the smooth trigger of his aged cycler, following the thrashing beasts head, leading it ever so slightly as he began to understand its thrashing. Just before the trigger put pin to primer, The Tusken was startled as the massive beast’s equally massive tail sent his blue haired vixen tumbling through the air and slamming with a plume of coarse sand into a nearby dune out of sight from where he now was.

 

An enraged Tusken war cry escaped his mouth before he could even realize what was happening. The red that had been creeping at the edges of his vision due to the desecration of his people’s sacred banthas, now completely overtook The Tusken. No longer was he planning and thinking, instead, the voices of his ancestors transformed from whispers and suggestions into screams for retribution and physical guidance. Rarely before, had he ever felt so close to the ancestors, but whenever he had his tribe had been in danger and they had led him to perform great feats to save his tribe from certain destruction.

 

Suddenly the rifle that was more at home in his hands than strapped to his back was pulled taut against him once again, his pinprick vision laser-focused on the far off beast. He could feel the creature’s movements before it even knew it was making them. Atlas was out of sight, but he did not matter. The man was simply a third wheel as far as he was still concerned and his desecration of his sacred traditions would be dealt with later; but right now Rruror’rur’rr entire focus was bent on ensuring that the massive dragon that may have very well killed the only living individual he had felt any sort of softness for paid for his transgression.

 

Paid for it with blood.

 

Proned out in the sands of his homeworld with his rifle in his arms, Rruror’rur’rr could feel the ancestors in his mind, his bones, and his muscles, as they took control. Gone was the tactical breathing, gone was any attempts at stealth. With an unintelligible cry of pure rage that echoed across the vast empty sands , The Tusken squeezed the trigger and in that instant an explosion of powder and energy hurled from the elongated barrel of his weapon, a metallic slug enveloped in a sheath of energized plasma, towards the thrashing massive dragon.

 

In the mere instant that it took the energy-bound projectile to traverse the distance between Rruror’rur’rr and the dragon, The Tusken pulled back on the bolt of his rifle and slammed it forward, ejecting the spent casing and loading another round; but before he could fire again the Dragon reared its head and the round buried itself deep into the massive monster’s sinuses, causing the beast to let out an ear-splitting unearthly cry of pain as it reared back in its hind legs and toppled backwards with a ground shaking crash, sending plumes of sand into the air, obscuring the entire area in a thinly veiled sandy fog.

 

Pushing himself upwards to a kneeling position, Rruror’rur’rr raised his rifle above his heads in both hands and let out a triumphant victory cry, channeling the satisfaction of his ancestral guides into the cry that echoed all the way down to Dark and Rose below. In the moment, nothing mattered but the fact that he had once again established not only his, but his people’s dominance of these lands. Nothing could stand against them. They, no he, was the master of this land and the sacred protector of these sands! The ancestors had willed it as such.

 

Nothing could stop him now. Any doubt that the ancestors had turned their backs on him was gone. He was their chosen son. Now to deal with the blasphemer…

[Dar'Manda]

Click...

 

Beep...

 

Boom...

 

Within three sounds, victory was ours, but at untold costs, sending my world spiraling into hell.

 

Firstly, upon my own discovery, my form literally fell apart on me. Unaware to Rru's own attack happening at the same time as mine, upon pushing the button of the detpacks posted within the dead Banthas, my arm crumbled before my eyes, leaving me only thoughts upon the stress put upon it during our fight. On top of that, like a chain reaction, so did the rest of my cybernetic form follow in suite, next with my weapons and jetpack following with both my legs as I plummeted hard upon the sea of dunes below, knocking the wind out of me. Laying there, helpless aside from my armor and the one arm that managed to retain it's fixture, I looked outward toward the now beheaded behemoth that laid lifeless before me. grabbing one of the ejected Ryyk Blades, driving it's tip into the ground and pulling my massive forward inch by inch toward the beast.

 

Secondly, in the midst of the previous chaos, I noticed Rose being thrown across the landscape. Deep down, I felt failure of her being attacked, as I trusted that she would keep her distance. But I should have known better, as Mandalorians were never known for playing things cool and thinking before hand. Point in case was the shape I now laid in. Unaware of her injuries, and in truth, of little help or use as this moment, I trusted the Tusken to run to her aid as I finally skidded my form across the few meters that distanced myself from the dragon. How pathetic was I, to believe that I could solely take down such a beast? How ridiculous did I appear crawling toward a prize that I sowed into the beast's scales while it dreamt one night so long ago. But here I was, a lesson well learnt despite my surviving the odds thanks to Rose and Rru.

 

"Rru!" I yelled across the sands, noticing his drexl flying nearby, placing Rru at least within ear shot. "Go check on Rose. I'll be fine." And such was the truth of the matter. Aside from my cybernetics gone to shite, and being a one armed slug, I was unscathed aside from being covered in venom and sand. "Grab my first aid kit if she's been cut. It'll have antivenom in it." I spoke, leaning over on my side and burying my blade in it's scales, blood and flesh squirting all over me as I went. If I could, I would have ran to Rose myself, but without the use of my legs and missing arm, it was best I remained focus on the task at hand. And I continuously dug my blade along a sewn scar until I felt the steel hit bone, or rather Mythrosaur Bone in this case.

 

Using my only arm, I reached in nearly to my elbow, and pulled forth a T-Visor many believed to long be forgotten, the Helm of Mandalore the First. Wiggling my way upward against the Krayt's form, I sat there, gazing upon it's visage, an half hearted grin upon my face. Never did I think I would retrieve the item I held after I hid it away inside the beast, but nonetheless, here I was holding it once again within my hands, still unworthy to hold it. Yet, perhaps this new proclaimed Mandalore would, and it brought hope to my heart. And after today's battle, our surviving it despite the odds, and the new feeling of life returning to my soul, just perhaps it would be a new era for our kind.

[Rose Cariadus]

A sharp, harsh, Tatooine wind picked up between the dunes and sent sand into a whirlwind around her. As she blinked back the dust, she tried again to sit up fell back with another scream of fear mixed with rage. Even the muscles in her torso refused her commands. She took another breath and that turned into a spasm of coughing that flecked blood on the chin and blue chest armour.

 

Oh kriff.

 

She let go of the spike and pushed herself up with her hands, keeping her wide eyes on her torso and the expanding pool of blood beneath her. She reached with one shakey hand and found that the spike had bisected her, driving through her back and luckily releasing most of its biochemical payload onto her back instead of in her chest cavity. After that she reached down to her torso and her hand came away black with sandy blood. With now panicked hands she pulled away the ripped fabric and then immediately fell back flat to her back. Her torso was twisted nearly 180 degrees from the impact of the tail. The skin ripped and dark with blood from the torn musculature. Most unnaturally she could feel none of the pain that would keep her mind sharp. Only a dull ache at the base of her skull as she counted the wounds. Her lower half was completely kriffed, her spinal column torn to shreds and she was very likely bleeding into what remained of her abdominal cavity which means that the would probably be dead long before any help came over the dunes. Even now everything was so heavy.

 

Was this what dad felt when he died aboard the Helix? No that was probably more along the lines of rapid decompression and firey kaboom of nuclear missiles. A better way to go out. He didn't deserve it.

 

Her thoughts turned to her dad as her bright blue eyes searched the swirling sands, interpreting shadows to be figures from her past. Her dad chief among them. His form in his blue Antarian Ranger uniform looming over her with nothing but a frown to greet her.

 

Bastard, you never gave a single kriff about me. I was nothing but a burden to a man that wanted only adventures.

 

A lonely girl stood at the edge of a spaceport docking clamp, hands spread wide upon the transparisteel, blue eyes leaking tears at the shuttle that would never come home.

 

Abandonment.

 

Then a whole cadre of faces from Mandalore. Lovers, crushes, mentors. Most of them the same.

 

What do I know about love? Only to use it until there is nothing left.

 

It hurt so much to even breath now and every time she moved her chest, the venom of that mighty beast beginning to turn everything within to liquid. Soon she would drown on her own organs, sadly it had missed her heart completely so she wouldn’t die quickly from that. Maybe the blood loss. Then the face surrounded by spikes of steel and fire loomed over her. She looked away from his gaze, searching for that ragged face of Roarroar, she was so ashamed. Ashamed of everything. Tears now mixed with blood and sand to coat her pretty face in streaks of shallow mud. Her voice was slow and tired as she spoke to the apparition above her.

 

...I don’t want to die...

 

Blood from her lungs formed a bubble on her lips that grew until it burst, dripping down her chin as the wind whipped up to a howl.

[Crixus]

As the small ship landed and docked, Crix left the human with a simple goodbye: a word of advice to avoid the wastelands out here. The human only nodded and told the Gank to watch out for the hutts. Crix didn't need to be reminded about those slimeballs and in turn simple left without another word.

 

Crix breathed in as the sands of the planet whipped lightly against his feet. He couldn't help but for a moment observe the people walking around, none of them giving the Gank a look. They were used to bounty hunters and off worlders on this planet. Despite being a waste hole, this sandy orb out in the middle of nowhere was a perfect place for criminals to gather and hide and even make a life if they wanted to retire, provided they could stand the threats of the planet. Crix could never do that. True, he spent some time here, hunting for the hutts, doing a few profitable battles in gladiatorial arenas, etc. But to retire and live here... Crix didn't think he could retire at all. He was Nexu. Long live the hunt.

 

Crix made his way to the center of town, going to the one place where information and greased palms passed through more then any other place in a town, even one as small as Boonta Eve: the cantina. A trick he had learned from working for the hutts was that the best place to start looking for low-life was where the alcohol was.

 

The gank killer frowned in disgust as he entered the lively cantina. People were laughing, drinking, dancing, having a good time trying to make life a little better by ignoring the worst things outside. He made his way towards the bar area, where he got a very surprised and scared look from the owner, whom Crix couldn't tell if it was male or female.

 

"Listen, I don't want any fights in here gank"

 

Ah, so this one dealt with Gank killers before. Or maybe something else.

 

And you won't as long as you tell me what I want and you give me something strong

 

The owner didn't argue. His eyes opened in curiosity as he handed a glass of liquid to the Gank, curious if he was going to see what was under the helmet. Crix tapped a button on the side that opened up the lower portion of the helmet, large enough for a mouth of teeth to be seen. Usually, Crix only opened it after a battle to feed, but the sandy planet made him thirsty. He closed the mask after one gulp. The drink was weaker than what Crix would've preferred but it quenched his thirst for a while.

 

You wouldn't happen to know where the nearest Tuskan tribe is, would you?

 

Another surprised look. "Um... I think there is one a small distance away. Though I don't think anyone here has posted a bounty on the tribe. They have been surprisingly good at leaving people here alone"

 

Pity, but I'm not looking for a bounty. I already have one. A Tuskan who goes by... he had to pull out his own pad to get the pronounciation right. roarer. I figure if I hit up a few tribes, I may get his location.

 

"Um, but Tuskans don't deal with outsiders" the owner pointed out the obvious. Crix grew a little annoyed at this person. Bad drinks, bad info...

 

I didn't say I'd be asking nicely. As he said this, he crushed the empty cup with his robatic hand to show his annoyance.

 

"Um, but it is coincidental you are here. A tuskan was here, though. With some kind of flying lizard to boot. Made a mess here with two others."

 

...go on

 

"Well, he and this blue haired female had a fight, though it was odd cause she kissed him and such, so maybe it was a lover's thing. I don't know, but it scared some of my customers."

 

I thought Tuskans didn't take off their masks...

 

"The girl knocked it off.."

 

A traiter to his own beliefs. My target.

 

Where did he go?

 

"Well, um, he and the blue-haired girl and another guy in armor left without talking to anyone. I have no idea..."

 

Crix made a fist with his good arm, and a vibroblade began to pop out from his wrist, stopping short of the owner's chest.

 

WHERE DID THEY GO? Crix demanded.

 

The owner panicked. While he may have been used to being threatened, something about Crix scared the owner to the core. What was it... The owner held up his large hands in a surrendering motion. "I heard about which way the lizard flew! That's all I know I swear!"

 

Crix retracted his blade and interrogated the being further, until he was satisfied. He had gotten information about ideas which way the Tuskan may have gone, the nearest tribe, even where he found buy a speeder. Crix began to leave the building when he had a thought.

 

You've seen me fight, didn't you? You go to the gladiatorial matches...

 

Crix laughed as the owner nodded nervously. He had seen the Nexu battle and slaughter his enemies. No wonder he was scared. The grin under Crix's mask remained all the way until he was out the door.

 

Tatooine's suns were beginning to set as Crix payed his credits to the local for borrowing his speeder, with some extra in case he didn't bring it back. Soon, he was out in the wastelands, heading in the direction where the flying lizard had gone towards.

[Wyvernfall]

Rising up as a sand panther completing its stalking and making a final lunge for her prey, Rruror’rur’rr strove forward, his rage tangibly swirling about him as bits of sand and dust flitted through the air in an invisible whirlwind about his rough-cloth covered form. The Tusken’s first step, buckled him at the knee as his injury from his fight with Rose screamed out along his neural pathways and the mighty warrior stumbled, but caught himself with his swinging gaderffi at his belt; a makeshift cane for the moment that happened to have swung forward at just the right time to be caught in his hand and prevent him from tumbling face first down the dune. With the makeshift cane he hobbled as quickly as he could down the dune, slipping and sliding along the loose windswept sands, each step a new lesson in pain that served only to fuel the growing inferno within. It was if he were caught up in a violent Tatooinian windstorm, the voices howled so loudly in his ears, whispering their commands so loudly as to be unintelligible. Still, their rage was palpable and clouded his vision in a sea of blurring red. All of his desire directed him towards the downed cybernetic warrior who had killed an unknown number of his people’s sacred Banthas, not to mention how many of brothers and sisters. The voices of his passed on predecessors drove him onward, each footstep a new crescendo of pain that fueled the voices’ rage and his own burning desire to bring vengeance upon he that wronged his people.

 

Two steps from the bottom of the dune, Rruror’rur’rr saw through his blurred rage vision the downed blue form of the woman he had fought in the bar. She did not look good. Even as the voices urged him on, somewhere deep within his chest, Rruror’rur’rr felt a pang of pain different from the shooting fire that shot through his body with each step. In some ways, the pang was even worse. It cut through the vortex of screaming internal voices, pain, and rage, and ignited an even deeper seeded fire; the fires of desire and loss. Turning midway through his mad dash towards the fallen form of the cybernetic Dark, his pained leg wrenched and gave out beneath him, tumbling the Tusken end over end to the base of the dune, sending his gaderffi flying through the air to land in the sand several feet away.

 

Without pausing to dust himself off, Rruror’rur’rr looked up and could see the blood flowing freely from Rose’s wound, the venom coated spike nearby. Arm over arm, Rruror’rur’rr, pulled himself towards Rose, the sight of the blood flowing down her chin spurning him onwards. The voices of his ancestors, still swirling, but now mingling with the fearfulness of loss and the fear of defeat cried out, ancient fears as old as the desecration of his homeworld, mingled with his own fear of death and the fear of losing this woman, the only one who seemed to matter to him anymore. Now, she was dying and he knew it, but could not admit it.

 

Pulling himself through the blood stained sand as the twin suns began to set in the distance, Rruror’rur’rr pulled himself up beside Rose. Gently he cradled her head in his hand as he lay next to her looking over her twisted, bloodied, and broken form. With a rough gloved hand, he brushed the blood from her chin and made a hushing noise before softly singing in his growling low Tusken voice, his voice carrying over the sands, each growled note punctuated with the tones of loss mingled with rage.

 

…across the sands of our ancient homeland, may your heart eternally fly, embrace the call of the warrior kings who prepared the ways before us, to bathe in the waters of eternal victory, defy this desolate world and smile down on those of us who press onward still, guide our hands and hearts until we meet again, until we meet again, brothers, sisters, we all…

[Rose Cariadus]

It was so cold now, so cold, even though she could feel and see the bright harsh sun on her skin, but it carried no warmth. All the while the face of spikes stared down at her from above, the ‘T’ visor reflecting none of her features in its dark recluse. The ever present face of her God of change and destruction, Kad Ha’rangir in his silent glory, dooming her for her failures. Ignoring her pleas for help and love.

 

Her father in the truest.

 

Her blue eyes stared into the dwindling twin suns overhead, their orbs obscured by tears.

 

Dad why didn't you love me enough to stay? Why can’t you help me?

 

The mask overhead shifted, turning from staring down at her to look away in disgust. Anger piqued in Rose of Sharon, flashing her face with the little blood she had left in her upper extremities.

 

Now you won’t help me, you wouldn’t even hold me, you are no one. No one.

 

The face stayed staring into the distance as the wind calmed and the dust and sand began to fall back down to the ground in sparkling rain.

 

Why won’t you look at me?

 

Because you are worthless

 

Then it was gone, the apparition disappeared with the shuffle of Roarroar coming to her side. Rose closed her eyes against the shame he had to dislike her for such a defeat, an unlucky shot from the dragon had ended her journey a very long time before she was ready. But his face seemed kind, and she could feel the gentleness in his grasp as he slid a hand under her head to cradle it. His other hand wiped futilely at the blood and though she could not see his face she knew that he was grieving. She kissed his hand, coating it in another layer of pink aerated blood and airbubbles that came from her now dissolving lungs. Her voice was very soft and punctuated with a string of echoing coughs.

 

“I am sorry Roarroar, I guess you are the better warrior afterall.”

 

More blood, more coughing, and finally a lot of pain. She squinted her eyes against it and reached up a hand to grasp at the back of his neck, her grip still strong from the pain of her mortal wounds.

 

“I have so much left unfinished, so many adventures I want to go on with you.”

 

Her grip began to slacken and she slipped more into his grasp as death began to draw her into its maw. She wondered if Dark would care enough about a proper burial. She knew he would know what to do.

 

“I want to be there when you see Oceans and when we conquer the galaxy. I wan-”

 

Her eyes unfocused and her breathing fell silent as she listened to his singing. It was so beautiful. So...

[Crixus]

Crix sped across the desert sands, his speeder a blur. As he whipped past dunes, the sky above showed the promise of a dark night arriving. Crix would have to be careful, since a good number of predator animals that were nocturnal also had the advantage of stealth and surprise on their side. If he wasn't he would lose more than an arm and a leg on this bounty. True, the enemy would lose its life, but Crix saw no reason to let such a trade occur, or at least a trade with him losing so much.

 

Something up ahead caught Crix's eye. He pulled to a stop and jumped out. He bent over what looked like a pile of dung, splattered on the ground. He used a finger and scooped a small piece and gave it a sniff. Odorous, but not strong. Fresh, but not fresh enough that it had been layed at least some time ago. He would guess less then an hour at the most. There were no tracks near the dung, but his prey possibly rode a flying lizard of sorts. By the splatter of the dung, it was dropped from a high distance. He was on track. But something was off. Their was another smell that was much more horrid then dung. Something else, something stronger. The wind picked up for a moment, and the scent of that would make normal humans and aliens gag breezed through his helmet.

 

Dead flesh...

 

With these winds it was impossible to judge how far the smell came from, but it was a sign that Crix was close. He could feel it somewhere in his body. He looked upwind, and in the distance a dune blocked his path. Could his prey be on the other side? He quickly made he way to it, leaving his speeder behind. If his prey was on the other side, he would like to keep the speeder out of sight but also nearby in case he bolted. The dune was a bit steeper then he liked, but he didn't care. Once he was at the top....

 

There! In the distance, several dunes away in the sky, a shape circling an unseeable object from where Crix stood. His mouth smiled with rows of sharp carnivorous teeth. His heart began to beat faster. His muscles began to loosen, feeling the sensation of visible target. His The beast inside of him began to stir to life. He pulled his rifle from his back and aimed at the target, trying to gauge the distance. It was far, too far to get a kill shot with his rifle. He cursed himself for not having something to snipe with. He needed to get closer, but that would mean he'd have to sneak across open areas to get a shot. No, he needed to lure the beast to him....

 

Voice Output: Max for five seconds. Start in five seconds. Crix spoke. The basic computer in his helmet recognised the simple voice command and the helmet prepared to enhance whatever he would say and make it as loud as possible.

 

Crix closed his eyes. He could hear the crowds....the chanting... the cheers of men and women reveling from the bloody spectacle from the previous match. He could smell the fresh blood on the ground, the cheap alcohol.... there was the chanting for the next match....the announcer, the energetic announcer...

 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the match you've all been waiting for... the man who killed his own team to save his life

 

Crix growled a bit. His mouth began to water in eagerness.

 

The killer of men... the beast of Nar Shaddaa....

 

The computer beeped once, saying one more beep and the speaker in his helmet would be ready.

 

You're champion, your hunter and slaughterer....

 

Another beep.

 

NEXU!

 

And with that, Crix threw his head back and roared. A roar from his gladiatorial days. A roar of a beast. A roar of alpha animal, establishing his domain. A roar that came from the chest, the gut, the heart, and soul. His challenge to the beast of the sky carried across the sands of Tatooine. The sands would see blood today, and Crix would be one to shed it.

[Wyvernfall]

As Rose’ words failed and the breath left her body, the momentary respite of sadness and compassion gave way as the momentarily suppressed rage swirled back to the forefront, bits of sand and gravel whipping up in a miniature whirlwind about his kneeling form and Rose’ prone lifeless body. Throwing his head back, Rruror’rur’rr let loose an animalistic blood-curdling howl of pain, anger, and mourning that carried on the increasing winds across the vast expanse of empty dunes, fueled by the growing reddened darkness emanating The Tusken.

 

As the weight of his loss settled across Rruror’rur’rr’s very soul, he could feel tears staining the inside of his facial wrappings. Deep within his heart still churned his volcanic rage towards the entire situation that had unfolded since his tribe had been slain and he had been forced offworld. Since then things had continued to side downhill at an alarming rate culminating in this point. All that he had left was his strange bond with the massive drexl, Raka, overhead. It was said that all a Tusken needed was his bantha and his brotherhood to carry him through the day; but Rruror’rur’rr’s bantha was gone, replaced by the much more cunning beast overhead, and his brothers and sisters were dead or dispersed. Even so, just as with Raka, the ancestors had seemingly smiled on him, granting him a new start to a family in the bloodstained blue haired female before him. She had been so different, yet at her heart, he knew they shared a connection, a connection that went beyond their warrior pasts. Now she too was gone.

 

Lost in his own thoughts, he sank deeper into his mounting depression at all that he had lost. He cradled Rose’ lifeless head in his hands, studying her features through his blurred tear-stained vision, his mind and heart awash with a sense of hopelessness and loss. He knew what he had to do. It was something that he had hoped to avoid for decades to come. Where rage had pulsed through his body only minutes before, The Tusken was now filled with a new and even darker emotion, loss; a loss bordering on emptiness. Where there was emptiness that which was near would seep in. On Tatooine that often meant sand for it was the ruler of all that set foot on the planet and they acknowledged it, willingly or not. For a Tusken Raider that was generally a form of anger or rage at the wrongs done to their people by generations of offworld scum. For Rruror’rur’rr, it was similar, it was the call of his ancestors; his roots; his very being. He would abide by their will and follow in their footsteps. But first,

 

She deserves a proper burial. A warrior’s last rite…

 

The Tuskens were nomadic people. Ritual held a special place amongst them as did simplicity, but in those simple traditions were the very definitions of what it meant to be a sand person, and in that, there was honor. He would honor Rose the best he knew how.

 

As gently as he could, Rruror’rur’rr replaced Rose’ worn blue-tinged helm over her lifeless face and then tore off his own longyi-type lower robe, leaving his tightly wrapped legs exposed to the blowing winds, and used his robe to gently wrap around Rose’ gaping wound. The roughhewn cloth hissed as it came into contact with the poison mingled blood. Carefully, Rruror’rur’rr wove his bandolier about Rose’ shoulders; perhaps not the most honorable way to move her body, but it was all that he could do in the moment.

 

Standing, Rruror’rur’rr’s injured leg buckled beneath him. With a cry of pain, he tumbled back to the sands of his home. Using his rifle and brute force of will, Rruror’rur’rr shoved the butt into the sand and pulled himself upwards. With one hand on his rifle as a crutch and his other wrapped up in the ends of his bandolier, The Tusken forcibly, step-by-step, began to hobble forward dragging Rose’ armored body through the sand behind him along the base of the dunes, away from the nearby battle scene, and out towards the vast endless deserts of Tatooine in the shadows of the setting suns.

 

To die is to honor my people.

 

In death I will be with her again.

 

To die will mingle my soul with the voices of my ancestors

 

the very ancestors who were now urging him forward, to follow the ways of his people. In death he would regain his honor and join Rose in the vast void beyond that the souls of all chosen warriors went to.

 

Step by step, Rruror’rur’rr pressed forward into the growing shadows of the setting suns. Rruror’rur’rr’s grief mingled with his rage, driving his battered injured form onwards into the final campaign, life’s final battle, to lose it all in sacrifice for the ancestors, to guide his people onwards to victory.

 

----------

As Rruror’rur’rr pressed forward away from the scene of the carnage, above him, in the cloudless sky awash in the vibrant hues of the setting suns, The Tusken’s strange offworld mount continued to circle. The drexl had always been confident that it was the apex predator wherever it chose to roam; but like his ward, he too could feel the deep sense of loss. It was mingled with the pain and suffering that Rruror’rur’rr felt; but he felt it differently. Raka, as The Tusken called him, was no longer the undisputed master of these lifeless sands. The beast that had fallen had rattled the creature’s confidence, so when a predatorial cry echoed across the dunes, Raka circled away from his mourning ward, he could clearly care for himself, and swept upwards higher into the air, his eyes scanning the horizon for the source of the challenging call.

 

After all, was not his two legged brother setting off to die?

 

As he circled higher and higher, Raka finally saw it, a single being atop a distant dune.

 

Such a petty challenger. It will soon be destroyed.

----------

 

Minutes later, Rruror’rur’rr rounded a dune to find a small creviced opening that opened into a steep sprawling cavern where the voices of his ancestors howled with the wind that whipped the sands past the opening hidden in the vast sea of crystalized glass particles. Tumbling inwards into the darkness, Rose’ body following him into the twilight darkness within, Rruror’rur’rr let out a sigh. The voices of his ancestors were louder now than he had heard them in years. This was where they desired him to be. This was where he would place the life of the woman he cared so deeply about. This was where he would die.

 

With considerable effort, fueled by his love and loss, Rruror’rur’rr, on his knees, maneuvered Rose’ body to a naturally hewn cleft in the wall, where, if he had his way her body would rest protected from the burning sands for all of eternity, her soul free to fly through the cloudless skies alongside his own.

[Crixus]

Crix smiled as he could see the beast circle higher and higher. He must have been seen by now. In one swift motion he pulled his rifle into an aiming position and began to focus on his foe again. He felt the groove of the engraved name on the rifle, remembering how his old comrade had held this weapon.

 

Folso he breathed the name, as he began to pull the trigger. The sound the rifle made was for a moment, but it was a moment that his comrade adored so much. Crix understood why. The sound of death leaving you to embrace another is always a sound to adore. But he couldn't appreciate it now. Now, the battle had begun.

 

The trigger was pulled again and again. Three times the sound was made. As each shot flew through the air, flying in the direction of the target, Crix believed these shots would be grazing at best at this distance, or a complete miss at worst, but he was ready to fire more when it came closer. He didn't want to waste his full battery right now though. He needed a better shot. That or to get the beast to get land on the ground. The wings....he would target the wings when it got closer... he readied and began to pull the trigger again.

 

((1))

[Wyvernfall]

------

Gliding on the buffeting winds of Tatooine, Raka’s fierce vision could see the small man below readying some sort of weapon. It was nothing he was not used to. How often had he been attacked by hordes of such beings before he had met his ward back on Onderon?

 

His silly little metal launcher did not scare him, lord of this world’s skies.

 

With a screech that would curdle the blood of any average townsfolk, the drexl turned and dove forward, his body racing towards the sandy dunes below, the sweltering heat whipping past his wings doing little to pull any heat away, but the speed cooling the edges of them regardless. Pulling up at the last moment the dragon-like being opened his tooth filled may with a screech as several red colored laser bolts zinged wide above where he had been circling.

 

He will die for challenging me and I shall feast on his body

 

Hurling forward above the tips of the dunes, the drexl’s leathery wings beat the air sending waves of loose sand into the air with each flap of his 19 meter wingspan. Such a little being, all alone, the best course of action was clearly a frontal charge. Approaching maximum velocity from his dive, Raka barreled forward intent on catching the offending man in his arm-length dagger like teeth.

 

 

((2))

------

 

On his knees beside Rose’ lifeless form, Rruror’rur’rr sat in silence, save for the constant unintelligible whispers of his ancestral voices in his head. Even though he could not understand them, he knew what said. It was time. But still, he did not want to leave her side. Lifeless as she was, Rruror’rur’rr desired to sit here a little longer. Together they would lie in repose here in this dry dimly lit cavern maw for all of eternity. Deeper within, where the light no longer shone, the caverns continued on, a winding interconnecting labyrinth beneath the rolling dunes above, inhabited by who knows what ancient powers.

 

Gently reaching forward, Rruror’rur’rr pulled off Rose’ battered helm and nestled it in beneath her arm. Those warriors that he had faced over the years seemed fond of carrying their helms in such a way. With his blood crusted gloved hand, he lovingly ran his finger along Rose’ paled cheek, brushing a loose strand of her blue hair out of her eyes as tears filled his own, flooding the goggles he wore over his face. Reaching upwards, The Tusken slowly began to unwrap the carefully placed and intrinsically custom-based rough facial wrappings from around his head, slowly exposing his worn and pained face. With shaking hands, he pulled the goggles away from his face, allowing the cool whispers of wind blowing up from deeper within to brush his tear-stained face.

 

As the tears rolled down his face and began to soak the wrappings he had not yet removed, Rruror’rur’rr continued to carefully pull back the facial wrappings until he could also remove his mouthpiece; setting it alongside his goggles on the smooth granite floor. There in the dim light, Rose could have just been sleeping, had it not been for the streaks of bloody spittle about her mouth. Pulling off his glove, Rruror’rur’rr used the not bloodied wrist portion to wipe her face clean. Allowing the warmth of his own hand to rest against her cheek for a lingering moment as the thoughts of what could have been raced through his exposed mind.

 

Choking back a sob, Rruror’rur’rr arched forward as he raised himself up to gently place a lingering kiss on Rose’ still lips.

 

”Until we meet again my love.”

 

He roughly whispered trying still, even though he was all alone, to keep his voice from cracking. Sitting back on his haunches, he wiped away his own tears, only for them to be replaced by more that flowed from his maelstrom blue eyes.

 

He knew what he had to do next; even if it was to regain his honor, he still was hesitant. Until now, he and his people’s honor were built upon their pride. They survived where others would and could not. They fought and not only survived, but conquered, their very world that had been turned from paradise into hell; just as he too now would turn his pride in survival and the honor it brought he and his people to pride in dying, dying by his own hand, to regain a shred of his honor and to honor his people.

 

With a clack of his rifle butt on the ground, Rruror’rur’rr slowly and painfully picked himself up; using the elongated cycler to pull himself up. As he stood, leaning heavily on his weapon he turned to gaze down at Rose again.

 

Soon…

 

Reaching across his waist for his gaderffi, Rruror’rur’rr was horrified to discover that it too was gone; left lying lost in the sands where Rose had fallen. Regardless, he could still complete his ancestors’ final commands. He would die with honor. He had already lost his bantha once and his new mount would be led by the ancestors to a more deserving ward or be cursed as he was to wander the desert sands for the rest of his life, a monstrous offworld demon preying upon any that dared to cross him. Even now, Rruror’rur’rr could sense that his guardian brother, Raka, had set out in search of prey, to establish his demonic dominance upon the desolate wasteland that was his new home.

 

With one hand firmly holding onto his rifle for balance, Rruror’rur’rr began to carefully disrobe, removing his traditional Tusken garb. Unlike Rose, who would lie clad in the mantle of her people, he would not. His body would be indiscernible from countless unmarked graves scattered across the planet. As was only fitting. The secrets of his people would not be revealed even in his death. Several minutes of ritual removal of the garb that he had spent more of his life in than out of and Rruror’rur’rr was standing there in nothing more than his tightly wrapped undergarments.

 

Looking at Rose again, he let out a deep sigh before he sunk back down to his knees. Carefully, he took the countless lengths of wrapping and his robe and laid them out one atop another before finally setting his goggles and mask atop the pile. Reaching for his bandolier, he carefully untwisted it from Rose’ shoulders, allowing the smooth aged leather to run through his fingers, pausing as each round of ammunition slid through his fingers. He counted them,

 

one, two, three,…

 

Twenty-six, Rruror’rur’rr had twenty-six rounds of ammunition left that were not in his rifle. That was more than enough to fight for quite some time in the traditional Tusken way. Normally a Tusken would have left his weapons to a son or daughter and in lieu of them a younger Tusken preparing to set out on his trials. He would need to improvise.

 

Squeezing the soft leather in his fist, Rruror’rur’rr gritted his teeth. Even in death he could not do things as they should have been. Still, the ancestral voices called to him, urging him forward. Throwing the leather and ammunitions to the ground atop his clothes, he inhaled and exhaled deeply through his nose, his anger welling up within him. Anger at himself. How could he be such a failure? All he had done was live a life dedicated to following the ways of his people; but still, he was a failure. He had failed. There was clearly something wrong with him. This anger cracked open the churning rage that had been suppressed by the all-consuming grief that had overwhelmed him.

 

Turning to look at Rose he shouted in his native tongue,

 

”Why?! Why me?! I am a failure at everything I have done! I dishonor my people! I dishonor my world! I dishonor my name! Even you! I love you and that too is apparently a dishonor!! What did I do! How can I control how you made me feel?! Am I cursed by the ancestors?! Did my father commit some grave offense for which he did not repent and now I am paying for it?! Why do I deserve this?!”

 

Biting his lip, hard, Rruror’rur’rr could taste the iron tinge of blood. He hated himself. He was a failure and he was taking it out on this woman who he cared for and she was dead. How horrible! He did not even deserve to be considered a Tusken man. It would be better if he was buried as a child who had not yet earned his or her own way.

 

Hatred. Rruror’rur’rr hated himself and it allowed the grief of complete loss to mingle with the righteous and unrighteous rage and it manifested itself in a heated swirling wind that whipped in from the creviced entrance about his feet. The voices were louder now, a howling crescendo, that tore through his mind and whipped his hair with an icy wind from deep within that blasted through the cave demanding blood.. On his knees, he reached down to his leather bandolier and pulled out his razor sharp homemade durasteel knife.

 

It was time.

[Crixus]

Crix now got a good idea at the massive size of the beast as it began to charge him faster then any reek he had encountered before. This beast, with the wingspan of a small hovel, could and probably would decimate most human beings like a missile. Wheverer this beast hailed from, it must have been a prime predetor.

 

Wouldn't have it any other way.

 

The laser's muzzle flashed repeatedly as Crix pulled the trigger and held it, letting the autofire take place. Accuracy was no longer as important as the beast came closer and closer, its size more and more apparent. He guessed the number of shots at the rapidly shrinking distance would land at least a few blows. He was more focused on his legs. He hadn't done an idea like this since the time he faced a reek. He had to time this right. When the beast would be close enough, he would have to roll to the side just out of the way of the teeth, but be able to catch onto the beast's wings. If any of his laser blasts hit the thing's head, perhaps the beast would slightly veer off to one side in pain and that would make this maneuver a little easier. He just needed to time this right... here it came...

 

 

((2))

[Dar'Manda]

It felt as if I had been laying there for hours, day turning into evening, followed shortly by the night sky as thousands of suns and stars burned in the distant galaxies. I held no clue as to Rru or Rose' whereabouts, and in truth, it worried me. But I was stuck, unable to do anything as the night air began to grow cold with the absence of the twin suns. In the distance where I had originally fallen, I see the glowing red signals of my probe droids, knowing of their collection and awaiting their arrival. I had programmed the droids using medical droid programming to collect and reassemble my cybernetics in case of destruction, a necessary protocol for a loner such as I. But the wait had always killed me in a manner of speaking.

 

Off in the distance I could hear the shriek of Rru's mount, followed by weapons fire, but what it foretold, I could not sense nor see. My enhanced vision and hearing had been damaged during the fall, forcing me to remove my visor and rely on my own natural abilities, little as they were. True, as a Miraluka hybrid, I could see through the Force. But it helped me little amidst the sand of Tatooine, my vision no more than white noise at this point. So I simply listened, my gatling gauntlet standing ready at the moments notice of trouble in my vicinity.

 

I felt pathetic, weak, unable to assist those I was in watch of. And in truth, thoughts of ending my life dishonorably had crossed my mind. But after the mess I had caused, the life I had ended, all to retrieve this mask, I could not dishonor the fight that was fought simply because of my failure as Manda. For now, I could only sit and wait, my probe droids acting to heal and rebuild their Master. I only prayed that Rose and Rru could hold out that long.

[Wyvernfall]

With his knife in hand, an internal struggle began; the final struggle. He could hear the voices of the ancestors urging him forward. Only his doubt held him back. To regain his honor and honor his people would be great; but he did not want to die.

 

Even now, at the end, I seek dishonor and comfort over what I should do.

 

The blade shook in his left hand. Putting his right hand over his left, Rruror’rur’rr drew the blade inwards towards his exposed stomach. Slowly, inch by inch, the blade shakingly drew nearer and nearer to his goose-pimpled flesh. The moment the warm durasteel touched his muscled stomach, Rruror’rur’rr gasped, the air sucking past his clenched teeth.

 

Inhale.

 

Exhale.

 

do it.

 

Glancing over at Rose, her lifeless body lying on the slab next to him, The Tusken gritted his teeth. He could do this. He had to do this. The ancestral voices urged him onwards. It was too late to turn back now. This was his final victory.

 

”I am coming my love,”

 

He hissed, as he forced the blade inwards, the warm blood flowing down the blade, slickening the handle. Rruror’rur’rr gasped, sucking the cool air into his throat fighting back the fresh pain that coursed up his body.

 

Past the point of no return. With his jaw set and both hands firmly grasping the slickened weapon, Rruror’rur’rr jerked the weapon across his belly, the razor-honed edge tearing through his flesh, emitting a torrent of blood down his hips and legs as he gasped in pain. The agony unlike any physical pain he had ever felt before; close enough to mirror the torment in his soul.

 

As the blood poured freely onto the ground at his knees, Rruror’rur’rr tumbled forward, with the sound of a sickening slap, into his own pooling blood. Rruror’rur’rr rolled over onto his back, his mouth agape in agony, blood running down his chest and face as he stared upwards to the darkened ceiling not really taking anything in. Instead, all he could see was a tunnel of hazy grays growing to blacks as he was gently carried along the seemingly endless streaks of life with a slowly growing light approaching at the end of the elongated tunnel.

 

In that moment, the fear and rage were no longer a raging inferno; they were still there, but instead of fighting to be freed they throbbed with an otherworldly calm; sensing that their release was near; prepared to tear free form their bonds and bestow their gifts upon the world uninhibited by the bonds of their mortal creator.

 

Still, even in his last moments, there was one link that shimmered through the waffling reality that he was quickly slipping from his grasp; Raka. Through it all, the Tusken’s bond with his mount was unbreakable; bound through the ages from Tusken and Bantha to Tusken and Bantha since the fall of Tatooine.

 

------

 

The Drexl bore down upon the miniscule being that stood atop the quickly approaching dune to challenge him; his maw opening up a gaping hole of arm length yellowed teeth and foul breath. From his mouth echoed out across the dunes a cry of pain and anger as several blaster bolts sizzled into his shoulders and chest from the challenger. Painful, but not condemning; over time Raka would heal, with only the smallest of scars to show for this challenger’s defiance.

 

The final blast tore into Raka’s shoulder right where his wing and torso connected, making him wince in pain and driving his well-tuned flier’s body crashing into the sands; his jaws snapping in a combination of pain and rage at where his defiler was standing only moments before; only to taste his air as he rolled out of the way onto his still airborne wing before it too crashed into the dune.

 

Turning on his chest, Raka attempted to snap up the small shelled being, to crush his plates between his powerful jaws and lap up the ooze and jelly that came out.

 

((3))

 

------

 

As this realization settled into Rruror’rur’rr’s mind, he found a strange outcropping of peace as the oceans of calming rage and cooling breezes of grief swirled about his mind. The peace was his Raka; his last and truest friend and bond to the world as he knew it. To die holding that bond was the greatest gift he could carry into the next life, to oversee Raka’s quest for freedom, at the side of Rose, his last and truest love. Even with all else gone, he had one last hope to hold onto as he completed this last great journey.

 

------

”Hurry...It is not yet time…

…blood has been spilled. We, the true children of Tatoo, will overcome. Just hold on. The worst is over. You only need to persevere.”

 

A ghastly voice echoed through Rruror’rur’rr’s stupored mind. Suddenly, the warped and hazy tunnel was gone. Instead, he was looking down over the cavern where his body lay in a puddle of his own blood alongside the slab that kept Rose’ body free from his death throws. From his out of body vantage point, Rruror’rur’rr could see that the cavern was no longer empty. It was now packed to the brim with numerous brown skinned Kumumgah, the ancient ancestors of the Tusken and Jawa peoples. Still more crowded in, in a single file line bearing their meager belongings saved from their sprawling cities. At the doorways stood several more Kumumgah armed with aged weapons of unknown usage.

 

The voice came from a single being in a large ornamental headdress, flanked by a quartet of similarly clothed beings with circlets about their heads and crystal bound staves in hand.

 

”…We have not lost everything so long as we have each other. Hold on. It will all be over soon…

 

------

 

Outside the cavern, the winds of Tatooine began to gently increase, at first, before steadily bringing forth a maelstrom of chaos, sending bits of sand and gravel tumbling through the air with no guidance or reason seeking out targets worthy enough to stop them. The brotherly suns sank beneath the horizon as they concluded their day’s chase and the bright star-filled sky coming into view; the ancestral warriors of Tatooine looking down on all, their cold judgmental gaze guiding and judging the living and the dying as equals.

[Crixus]

Crix grinned as the beast crashed into the sands, his insticts allowing him to move just in time. The beast's teeth made a snapping noise where his body used to be half a moment ago, However, he maintained his balance as he moved, his instincts working faster then ever. The beast was on the ground now, but not defenseless. He experienced that as the beast rolled over, nearly tossing him aside.

 

However, the Nexu was faster. Before the beast turned, Crix's muscles and robatic enhancements worked together as he leapt off the wing into the air, using one foot over the other to create a slight spin. When he was turned around in midair, his weapon fired over and over again, aiming for the head. He nearly used the whole clip in this moment. Flesh sizzled in the air as laser bolts made for piercing through soldier's armor repeatedly bore themselves into the beast's scales. He could almost smell the burnt meat through his helmet.

 

As the gladiator landed, he continued to act. Without thinking about whether the beast survived the series of blasts he just gave, he dropped the rifle and reached for that forbidden weapon at his side: the disruptor pistol. Before the rifle had touched the ground, he fired, point-blank-range at the beast's head, smiling at the knowledge that few things could survive this execution.

 

((3))

[Wyvernfall]

From his ethereal perch overlooking the cavern, Rruror’rur’rr pondered,

 

What is going on? Who are these people? Is this what the final trail unto death is like for all, a view into the unknown? The future perhaps?

 

A future of unknown beings wielding unknown technology taking shelter from who knew what enemy.

 

My people perhaps?

But where is Rose’ body? Did they steal it?!

Where is my body?!

Perhaps this is in the past? If so, who are these people?

 

The thoughts were a blurred jumble tumbling about Rruror’rur’rr’s oxygen deprived mind. Still, somewhere deep within his soul the very idea that foreigners toting weapons and, from the looks of it, day-to-day tools of unidentified technological nature angered him. Still his people’s lands were being defiled be this future or past. What would it take to end this war? And what would become of Rose’ body and his own? If this was the future were these technologically dependent beings also defilers of graves and bodies?

 

Monsters. The lot of them!

 

He snarled to himself. His disdain even in death for those he perceived as offworlders radiating through his dying energies. Still, in that moment of thought, a voice called out, the man-being below who seemed to be leading the defilers,

 

”The invaders shall not stop us. Have faith my children. The land that we have remained faithful to shall preserve us.”

 

The true children of Tatoo…that’s right! Maybe these were the heirs of his people or his ancestors themselves. Perhaps they…

 

But The Tusken was never allowed to finish the thought for in that moment,

 

------

 

The krayt sized winged beast thrashed about on the ground attempting to crush his much smaller foe beneath his sheer mass and girth; ever while searing hot blasts of red pain tore through his body.

 

Sting me with your quills you pesky vermin. I shall not die!

 

As his tiny foe leapt into the air, Raka swung his wing about in an effort to send the small wingless man back to where he belonged, the ground. As the man landed, Raka reared up his mouth wide open, blood and saliva dripping from his fangs. Beneath his shadow the little man stood alone, defiant until the end.

 

You should have run tasty morsel.

 

And in that moment, Raka lunged downward, his entire body flipping into the air with a flap of his damaged wings, bringing his full weight and width to bear down on the little man who was even now pointing another of his pathetic playthings directly at his mouth.

 

time to die little one

 

As his tooth filled maw crashed forward mere feet from Crix, the little man pulled the trigger.

 

Raka did not known what happened next, for the briefest of seconds he felt a white-hot burning pain that circulated like raging fire in his mouth and then, nothing. He was gone, his body crashing forward following its master’s final direction of momentum atop the small man, crashing down without a care for the snapping of joints, tendons, or sinews. Raka’s very being was simply gone. In that moment it went from being to vapors swept away in the cooling Tatooinian night winds.

 

Death.

 

------

 

Even as he was dying, Rruror’rur’rr clung to life in the form of his unshakable bond with Raka. In an instant, that bond was severed. Rruror’rur’rr did not know what had happened to his last comrade, but what he did know was that he was gone. They were separated; perhaps to be reunited in the next life; perhaps never.

 

Having lost his tribe, his Bantha, his legacy, and even his newfound love, Rruror’rur’rr had been driven to the brink; unto death, the last thing that he thought he had. As he approached death he had realized that he had one more thing to grasp onto, the mystical connection between him and his mount. That, now, was gone. And with that, the last dam on the tide of his emotions broke. The emotions that had only surged forth to the surface before let loose; freed from their inner bonds and rushing towards the absolute freedom brought forth in death, to become one with the force and contribute to the growing darkness.

 

From his out-of-body-position, Rruror’rur’rr witnessed his own body begin to thrash and convulse. Blood and spittle spewing from his mouth as he screamed an underworld cry of rage and regret, blood splattering through the air, coating the walls, Rose, and the slickening the floor. Still, the ethereal forms that crowded the cavern did not seem to notice; their spirits lingering in a single plane, but still separated by a fractional moment in time.

 

Then the final barriers snapped and his rage and loss knew no bounds. No longer was there a barrier between time and eternity nor life and death. The dark side surged, empowered by the very lands of Tatooine and the ancient bloodshed of so many dark side users slain 25,000 years before mingling with the ancestral spirits that had guided Rruror’rur’rr throughout his life. Spreading from the cave like an invisible cloud, the dark hunger of the force surged forth, whipping the sands into a tempest of flesh ripping crystals in all directions. Only to suddenly subside as the brokenness of time caught up with it. Instantly, the lifeless sands were filled with lush thick foliage for miles in every direction, surging with the force as it sought out lives to touch; stopping for the moment when it found even more fonts of historical significance, a mask, worn by killers of years gone by. The expanding force stopped in order to draw forth the darkness and evil inherently contained in the sacred Mandalorian object.

 

Lying amongst the dense greenery that once was Tatooine eons ago were the bodies of two fallen great beasts, the greater Krayt dragon slain by the trio of unlikely allies only shortly before and the still warm burnt flesh of Raka, torn from Rruror’rur’rr’s bonds and mind, having unleashed the tempest of undead unearthly power.

 

The warm humid air of Tatooine hissed through the leaves as creatures long extinct slept or rustled in the underbrush, unaware of the binding of their time and the current galactic state. Then, the dark side ruled freely, their Rakatan servants taking its will far and wide. Now, the Sith were the servants puppets of choice and it would do what it must to empower its pawns.

 

In the distance, the sands of Tatooine’s desert landscape swirled silently, unaware of the wrenching change that was slowly beginning to overcome the planet itself, pulling it into a space between time. Eternity. A space between life and death, a place where the force was and is the only truth and violence was its language; the place where the ancestors of the Tuskens, the Ghorfas, the Rakata, the Sith, the Mandalorians, and countless other warrior and conqueror races.

 

Back in the cavern, the leader of the band of refugees turned and looked right at Rruror’rur’rr, seemingly unsurprised to see the human/tusken’s spirit there watching them.

 

”Brother, the end is nigh for us, but our people, they will live on,”

 

The leader whispered.

 

”I am Krinlo. Rruror’rur’rr, you are our last hope. We have been watching you since you came to my descendants. It is not yet time for you to join us. We need to…

…wait, what is that?

 

Everyone get back from the entrance! Go deeper into the caves! NOW!!”

 

Turning back from Rruror’rur’rr, the leader shouted at his people, urging the fearful crowd back into the darkened cavern, their glowing yellow lights barely illuminating enough against the inky blackness. Rruror’rur’rr could taste their fear. It was palpable and it empowered him. He could die if that was needed. Courage in the face of death.

Unlike these pitiful cowards hiding from their fates.

 

And then from the skies above rained down white hot burning fire, a torrent of pure dark side powered destruction. The greenery of the planet was instantly ignited in hellish choking flames, hot enough to peel the flesh from the bodies of the screaming forest creatures that began to run about in complete and total panic.

 

In a matter of minutes, the dense plant-life of Tatooine’s past-bound to the present in the moment was gone, the soot and ash destroyed in the blazing heat, leaving only molten slag across the surface of the world.

 

Inside, the staff wielding guardians that flanked Krinlo forced their way through the panicked crowds pushing their way into the cavern, their leader following closely behind them. Outside, the screams of anguish pierced Rruror’rur’rr’s ears and then fell silent as they were obliterated from memory. With a surge in the force, the staff wielding Kumumgah extended their hands, swirling them about in a mystical fashion, the crystals in their staves glowing as golden energy crackled and pulsed between them flowing into Krinlo, who with a surge of pure darkness, held up his open-faced palms to the opening as the flames raced in, an inferno of pure destruction and despair, only to be buffeted against the invisible barrier extending from Krinlo’s hands from floor to ceiling enveloping the entire room in a dark fear powered shield protecting those still in the main room. Deeper in the cavern, more screams could be heard as Krinlo’s other tribesmen were cooked alive.

 

Rruror’rur’rr’s mind was buffeted with ancestral cries of pain and anguish, only to be suddenly silenced. For the first time in decades, his mind was empty. No longer was he whispered to by his guiding ancestral spirits.

 

Silence.

 

It was odd; but still, there was an incredible dark sense of joy.

 

”Finally, a sacrifice worthy of the darkness.”

[Rose Cariadus]

“What have you done?”

 

Her voice was dripping in tones of pain and regret, rasping out of lungs that had dissolved from the dragon’s venom, echoing behind a helm of cobalt. A lonely spirit screaming against her bond of mortality. Reaching to attempt to stop her darling from death. A horrible rattle marked the intake of ghostly breath and the lithe form of the Mandalorian female began to shift and squirm. The hands postured inwards and her body wracked backwards, her broken spine arching and her torso twisting foully to orientate itself from where the dragon’s blow had left it. The cracked and torn skin beneath her undergarments weeping blackened blood to splash upon the stone slab that was her grave. The only light that shone from the crypt was the eerie blue glow of a malfunctioning heads up display. The darkside swirled heavily as if beckoned by the planet itself.

 

“Why would you do tha-”

 

The body spasmed again, her thin arms flailing and beating themselves against the stone walls that lined her grave. The beskar of her gauntlets shot sparks that briefly lit up the air in showers of white light. If there were force users in the cave system they would feel the dangerous pull of the darkside as it stirred heavily in the room, pulsing like a tidal wave as her darling passed beyond the pale. Whatever had remained in this once holy sepulchre of the Tusken Raiders, now only shadows remained, spirits of the long damned searching for vessels to exalt among the dust of this chamber. The body of the young mandalorian ceased its thrashing and went stiff, letting out an exhale that clouded the inside of her ‘T’ visor with rotten blood.

 

mēs nonākam iekarot

 

A vessel the spirits had indeed found, and the Mandalorian slowly sat up from her grave.

[Dar'Manda]

Was it a dream? Or was it real? I could no longer tell reality from fiction as I laid there in silence, gazing upon the twin suns beaming over head as I gazed upon the distant sands roaring before me. It was a beautiful sight, even for the hell hole known as Tatooine, the wind blowing through my spiked blonde hair, the sand rushing across my form. It felt peaceful, familiar, as if a memory.

 

"Canderous." I heard a voice speak, its tone coy and playful as my name was dragged out before two hands wrapped around my eyeless sockets, feeling a soft touch and smelling the subtle hint of jasmine. "What are you staring at love?"

 

My heart nearly stopped. That voice, that smell, that touch. Impossible. She was dead, buried beside her family's farm. I've seen her grave. Yet, I knew her too well, her white irisless eyes, that soft wavy brown hair that clung to her shoulders and still managed to reach the middle of her back. And the jasmine, her favorite tea, an expensive herb that I brought to her often enough that she had grew to know the exact moment I would walk through the door. Luna? But how? You're dead!

 

"Always pointing out the obvious there, aren't you Captain? Though, not as long as you thought." She spoke with a chuckled, placing a kiss upon my blistered and chapped lips before sitting down next to me, grasping my hand into hers and squeezing tightly, laying her head upon my shoulder. "And this is a memory set within a dream. Beautiful setting isn't it, Canderous dear?"

 

"What do you mean Lulu?" I questioned, her words growing more perplexing by the moment. What did she mean by not as long as i had thought? I held suspicions that Scorpio had survived, reports popping up here and there about him, but nothing concrete. But nothing about her nor her parents and younger brother. Only grave markers, now long covered by the shifting sands, along with the family farm where I spent my youth while in hiding. "I thought your uncle Ragnar had claimed your life. It's the reason I joined the Black Sun, to hunt Sith, to find him."

 

"He almost did." She spoke, sadness in her tone as she buried her face into my armor to hide the tears that streamed her face. "If it wasn't for Scorpio, he would have. And because of that, he left me here to join the Jedi and do as you have. Only..." She stopped for a moment, almost as if wishing what she was about was not true as she raised up and stayed into the distant stars. "He became the thing he hunted, and now, faces death upon a distant planet, his soul lost without guidence. At least I had Master Starlisk to guide mine at Gala.

 

I jumped up, rushing to my feet but suddenly stopped by her tight grasp as she pulled me back. "There's nothing you can do Canderous. His fate is sealed, and it must be this way, as the Force wills it. Besides, you're still dreaming, and you've gotten yourself into quite a jam over that silly mask.

 

I chuckled at her words, a warm feeling rushing over my form, feeling home for the first time in a long time with the woman who had long held my heart. "I sure have, haven't i?

 

Silence sat for a moment as I cherished the moment, and as I went to speak, I found her finger upon my lip as she shushed me, typical of her when she felt the need to say something before I did. "You've been too hard on yourself love. You are not soulless as you believe, but rather the opposite. You are full of life, expressing yourself and your beliefs, standing for what you feel is right, and you never back down from anything. I only wish I had your courage when I was alive. So live for me Canderous, live in honor of you clan, and live to free yourself of the shackles you have placed upon yourself."

 

But suddenly that warm feeling was rushed aside as a cold, bitter, otherworldly presence invaded my dreamscape. It felt dark, deadly, and hungry. Looking around, I could not place it, and as I went to turn back to Luna, she was gone and the landscape darkened by a rumbling cloud of static and hellfire lingered above me, a familiar Visor forming its shape as I stood to face it, my singular word as cold as the air that began to swarm around me. "Dreth"

 

Little did I know that I was now awake, my form once again complete, unknowingly thanks to Luna's spirit.