DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
Obi-Wan stood in the doorway, gazing in silence at the small band of robe-shrouded Sand People surrounding his water condenser.
They gazed back.
No one moved.
The twin suns of Tatooine beat down on the tired, dusty ground, baking the scene played out in stillness below them. Harsh light reflected off the raiders' goggles, mirroring burning beams into Obi-Wan's eyes, blinding him.
He tightened his grip on the lightsaber which hung at his side. He fervently hoped he wouldn't have to kill anybody.
The five intruders didn't take long to realize they outnumbered the lone man in the doorway. Wordlessly, four of them broke their statue-like poses and went back to dismantling the moisture equipment. They didn't even bother to arm themselves with the rifles slung over their brown-wrapped shoulders.
The other ragged humanoid, the leader perhaps, began to stalk towards Obi-Wan, primitive gaderffii stick outthrust before him.
Obi-Wan hesitated, not sure what to do. He'd lived here nearly two years, and this was the closest he'd ever been to the Tusken Raiders. But there was little time to wonder about it. He raised his unarmed left hand slowly, palm outward, and broke the hot, dry silence.
"Please don't come any closer," he said in a low voice, hoping they understood Basic. "And step away from my moisture equipment. I'll need that."
His words had no impact. The four continued their work. The leader continued his advance. None of them made a sound.
Obi-Wan watched the point of the weapon come closer and closer. Primitive or not, the thing looked deadly. Its long wooden shaft was smooth with use, and thongs of hide reinforced the well-honed blades protruding from the business end.
Words were obviously not going to work in this situation. Sighing inwardly with regret, Obi-Wan raised his lightsaber and ignited the blue blade, filling the still afternoon with humming white noise.
The intruders' reaction was swift. The leader issued a guttural howl and dashed at Obi-Wan, prepared to run the Jedi through. The others dropped their tools and reached for their guns.
Obi-Wan swung his blade straight up in a blur, slicing the oncoming axe in half and sending the wicked blade flying harmlessly over his head to clang against the stone doorway. His outstretched hand Force-pushed the charging Tusken, sending him flying backwards to land unconscious in a heap of tattered robes on top of Obi-Wan's speeder bike several yards away.
A bare instant later, he arced his weapon-arm outwards to deflect a barrage of incoming bullets from the raider gang's rifles. Unused to defending himself from projectile weapons, he slashed about wildly, the violent heat of his saber reducing the metal slugs into sprays of molten hot slag which pounded into the dust at his feet.
The Sand People kept firing, more out of surprise and anger than anything.
Obi-Wan wanted to end this quickly. Gathering the Force, he leapt straight up out of the hail of fire, landing atop the hard-packed dirt dome of his house.
He turned his attention to the waking Tusken sprawled on his bike. Like a puppeteer, he plucked on invisible Force-strings, yanking the being through the air and dropping him onto two of his shocked comrades. The three slammed to the ground, weapons flying.
At this show of supernatural force, the other raiders lost their nerve. They called to each other in a mad, gutteral language and scattered. The three on the ground untangled themselves in a near-blur and raced off, following the others through the canyon.
Obi-Wan debated whether or not to pursue, but decided it was useless. They were too far away. They'd moved with incredible speed once frightened. Plus he had no desire to face them in a narrow canyon, with several huge, smelly banthas for cover.
They probably wouldn't be back, anyway. Probably.
He sighed and jumped down from the roof. He was getting too old for this sort of thing.
The unaccustomed excitement of the fight had interrupted the quiet, daily routine Obi-Wan had settled into on Tatooine.
He was still restless hours after the confrontation. He tried to meditate after dinner, but it was unproductive. After pacing about for a bit, he finally settled himself by a window to stare out into the desert night.
His duty to the children of Amidala had brought him to a desolate place, indeed, he thought as he surveyed the moonlit rocks outside.
Not to say that Tatooine was lifeless. Despite its forbidding climate, the planet's barren, rocky mountains and parched sands harbored an amazing variety of life. Tonight, through the Force, Obi-Wan could sense the many small lives which hid in shaded nooks and crannies, venturing out rarely and only then in cautious search of food or a mate.
As if conjured by his wandering mind, a tiny, blue, eight-legged lizard scurried over the sill by his arm. Obi-Wan watched with interest as it leapt into the house and disappeared into the shadows. It was probably poisonous. He'd catch it later, he decided, and went back to his perusal of the world outside.
In addition to its generous share of venomous reptiles, Tatooine boasted several native species of sentients. The greedy but harmless Jawas, for example. And the Tusken Raiders.
Obi-Wan regretted the need to frighten them off. Today had marked his first meeting with his neighbors, and it hadn't gone at all as he'd hoped or anticipated.
He'd always been curious about the Tuskens. He'd lived practically among them for two seasons, but had never seen them except at a distance.
He wanted to learn more about them, to separate the truth of their nomadic desert existence from the lies and outrageous legends propagated throughout the myriad intoxicant-soaked Tatooine cantinas. Those stories, rather than making him cautious, had made him curious. Who were these people, that had carved out a timeless existence in the midst of such harshness?
Why did he care?
The desert night did not answer his silent question. Obi-Wan decided he was probably just plain lonely. He had never lived in solitude before, or for so long. And many empty years stretched out ahead of him in his self-imposed exile to the Jundland Wastes.
"Hiding under a rock, emerging only in search of food or when threatened," he mumbled to himself, as if reciting some long-forgotten guidebook. "We could be stuck here for a very long time, Master Lizard," he turned and added to the near-empty room, wondering if the solitude had addled his brain.
But who could he talk to, if not the reptiles? There really was nobody he could seek out for company. The scattered towns attracted drifters and criminals, few of whom would be friendly and some of whom might recognize him. Tatooine did not belong to the Empire, but Obi-Wan's head commanded a high price on the galactic market these days.
And Owen, his own brother, had no desire to see him.
A deep despair settled over him at that thought. The Force was his ally. The Force penetrated him, surrounded him, directed the destiny of the universe as surely as it had directed him here, to Tatooine. But right now, the Force was no substitute for simple human contact, something Obi-Wan had been deprived of for too long.
Human contact came to Obi-Wan the very next afternoon.
He was meditating in the hallway-- the darkest spot in his home during bright sunlight hours-- when the Force alerted him that someone was coming. He stretched out his senses to see who it was. The calmness engendered by his restful meditation told him that it wasn't the Tusken Raiders, but two humans. Agitated humans.
Obi-Wan uncurled himself from his meditation pose and gave his limbs a good stretch. He figured he'd best see what they wanted.
He checked his reflection in the fresher room mirror as he passed, not out of vanity, but to assure himself that he looked nondescript. He wore, as was usual these days, a farmer's simple tunic and pants. His long hair and beard were wonderfully unkempt. And, he noted with some satisfaction, the suns had lightened his shaggy mane to the point where he could hardly see the few white hairs insinuating themselves among the more sensible brown ones.
A buzz at his door announced the arrival of his two visitors. Obi-Wan popped the release and opened it to find two stooped, elderly men lurking a couple of yards away. His eyes took a moment to adjust from the darkness to the bright light which flooded his doorway, but he could make out two wrinkled, ancient faces under two wild, sun-whitened heads of hair.
An ancient speeder was parked near the canyon entrance to his property. The men wore dusty, serviceable clothes and blasters on their hips. They seemed curious about him, he noticed, but wary all the same.
"Heard there were Sand People making trouble around here," one of them said without preamble. "Seen any of 'em?"
"Sand People?" Obi-Wan was nonplussed. No colonists lived in this area of the Wastes but himself. Furthermore, he knew nobody and took care that nobody remembered him. How would they hear of such a thing? Perhaps there had been trouble elsewhere. He wanted to find out.
He stepped outside. "A few," he admitted, finally. "Five. Yesterday. Why?"
The two old fellows shared a significant look. The other one spoke. "I'm Plint. This here's Chuk. We come from around over Way Station Six."
Obi-Wan had been there. A desolate little town in the middle of nowhere. And rather far from here. "Nice to meet you. I'm Ben."
"Well, Ben, you're lucky to be alive. Where'd you see 'em?"
"Here. But they didn't cause any trouble. I...scared them off. With a...blaster," he lied, just a little.
"Hmph." Chuk wasn't impressed. "How long you been here? I ain't seen you."
"I've been around a while."
"Yeah? Well, Ben, I been here my whole life. And you ain't been around the Wastes long enough to know nothin' from nothin'," Chuk said, rather rudely. "Raiders ain't afraid of blasters. Under all them rags, they got armor that'll deflect any shots."
"Oh, really?"
"Mmm hmm." Plint nodded. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigar. He took a moment to light it and inhale before continuing. "An' if they think you're on their territory, they'll take you apart quicker n' you could pull a blaster anyway."
Chuk had more information. "Thing is, their territory changes from day to day. Minute to minute. No reason. Just 'cause they're mean bastards as can't make up their minds." His voice took on an ominous tone. "And they hate droids. All droids. You got any droids, Ben?"
"No droids."
Chuk nodded in satisfaction. "Good thing."
"Surely they can't be that bad." Obi-Wan saw an opening for a question he wanted to ask. "Has anyone ever tried to negotiate with the raiders? Someone must trade with them."
Plint looked dumbfounded. "Hell no. Are you crazy? The Sand People around here are nasty. Nasty 'n evil. They don't negotiate." He eyed Obi-Wan significantly, blowing a cloud of tbac-scented fog into his face. "They eat human children. Jawas, too, when they can catch 'em."
"That's why we're here. Seems they took out a tribe of Jawas over EsReel way, just a couple of days ago." Chuk interjected.
"Yup." Plint took another pull from his cigar. "Didn't leave no bodies. Not a single one. O'course they ate 'em."
Obi-Wan couldn't let that bit of outrageousness get by. "That's insane. They're human, aren't they? They wouldn't eat other sentients."
Chuk shook his head in disagreement. He narrowed his eyes under white brows and lowered his voice, as if imparting a secret. "No. They only look human. An' they're everywhere. Spying on us." He took a suspicious look around as if the Tusken Raiders might even now be watching. "Hmph. They're dangerous. Take anything they can get. They kill krayt dragons just so's they can steal the pearls."
Obi-Wan had had enough. "Well. Thank you for the useful information. I'll certainly be more cautious from now on."
"You do that, Ben," Plint said. "Yep. Those raiders'll be back. Call the Station if you see 'em. We'll deal with 'em."
"I will," he lied again, just a little.
"You take care of yourself, Ben," Chuk added. Then the two old gentlemen turned and shambled off toward their waiting speeder.
Obi-Wan was actually glad to have had the company, if only for a few minutes. He probably wouldn't speak to the lizards for, oh, maybe another couple of months or so.
All that evening, he ruminated all over the strange interview he'd had with the two aged colonists. His mind sifted through the insane rumors about the Tuskens, trying to find the kernel of truth among all the chaff.
So their territory changed often. There was nothing shocking or strange about that. Anthropologists had studied many nomadic tribes throughout the galaxy who lived the same way.
And they didn't like droids. That was no surprise either. Androids were a form of artificial intelligence. Many sentient species with certain religious or intellectual beliefs mistrusted droids.
The Sand People seemed to have no actual aversion to technology, judging by the way they'd attempted to steal Obi-Wan's condenser. Which proved that they weren't ignorant. The raiders he'd faced had known exactly what they were doing with his equipment.
What Obi-Wan couldn't believe was that nobody had tried to negotiate or trade with them. Tatooine was a hard world to call home. Skirmishes with hostile natives could only make life harder.
He figured it was because Tatooine, situated as it was on the Outer Rim, had never been a Republic world. It had always been a rough place, one which had not seen a need for diplomacy and understanding.
Well, Obi-Wan was a Jedi, in hiding or not. He vowed that in future he would take every opportunity to smooth the path between colonists and Sand People. He would do what he was trained to do, which was help others.
It would give him something to look forward to in the long, lonely years ahead.