|
Lost in the Dunes of Tatooine 1985/1999/2000
short story by Mark Newbold One year before Episode IV - A New Hope It
was a hopeless situation. But
Jan Lomona had been in hopeless situations before. Whatever
he did, whatever he said, Jabba the Hutt just wouldn't believe him. Jan
argued, begged and pleaded with the massive gangster, which were three things
he hated doing. Standing before the
massed ranks of the Hutt's alien entourage Lomona tried to make the Hutt see
sense. See the truth. But Jabba wouldn't have any of it. Jabba had got it into his head that Jan
had once again, after promising never
to do so again, tried to double-cross his Tatooine employer. Lomona protested furiously, but to no
avail. The Hutt was convinced of
Jan's guilt. And all that remained
was to punish him. Jan,
sensing trouble, stepped off the Rancors trap door. "Look Jabba, we both know there's
been a misunderstanding here. I don't
know who said I'd double-crossed you but they got it all wrong. But," He opened his arms wide, a
smile crossing his face. "I
understand loyalty. I'm an employer
myself. So, to prove to you that I
can be trusted I'll do my next run for free." He lowered his arms and raised his eyebrows to the ganglord
before him. Jabba
rumbled quietly to himself and motioned over his major domo Bib Fortuna, a
strongly built Twi'lek who had worked for the Hutt for many years. They conferred for a few moments, longer
than Lomona would have liked, and then Fortuna stood straight. Jan narrowed his left eye. This isn't going to be pretty. "Captain Lomona," Bellowed the
ganglord in his native Huttese tongue.
"I agree to your proposition.
Collect your cargo and transport it across planet to the township of
Mos Banely. There you will deliver
the cargo and return directly to me.
Is that understood?" Jan
tried but failed to suppress the smile and nodded his head. "Perfectly. I'll be back in," He checked his
chrono. "Three hours." The
Hutt turned to Fortuna and began a slow laugh, which Fortuna joined in and
soon the entire audience chamber was rumbling with laughter. Jan furrowed his eyebrows and took a deep
breath. What have I missed now? "The journey will take considerably
longer than three hours."
Laughed the Hutt. "Not in the Sunrise it won't."
Replied Jan. Jabba
shifted on his dais. "The Berone Sunrise? Oh,
you're not going on the Berone Sunrise. You are to report to the speeder bay. Your Landspeeder will be ready and waiting
for you there." Jan
recoiled and shook his head in shock. "A Landspeeder? At this time of year? Across the Dune Sea to Mos Banely? You've gotta be kidding." Jabba
the Hutt's bulbous face lost all traces of humour and he leaned forward. Jan checked left and right, feeling the
massed ranks close in slightly. The
Hutt growled lowly. "If you really want to prove your loyalty to me and if you believe in the concept of second chances then you will
leave my sight and report to the speeder bay…now." Jan
Lomona was a smart enough smuggler to know a hint when he heard one so he
bowed once to Jabba the Hutt, his major domo Fortuna and turned to leave the
audience chamber. As he
began to leave he noticed a familiar face peering through the crowd of aliens
near the back of the room. Jan moved
towards the exit wall and waited for his friend to join him. "Bella, what the hell are you doing
here?" Bella,
a smuggler of some repute in the Setnin Sector, shrugged her shoulders and
flicked her long hair from out of her face. "Same as you Lomona. Just trying to get some experience under
my belt." Lomona
raised a sardonic eyebrow. "Lucky old experience. I've been trying to get under your belt
for years." Bella
shook her head and frowned in mock disapproval. "Never give up, do you Lomona?" Jan
grinned and leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. "Me? Give up? No way. It's a major part of my charm." It
was much as Jan had expected. The
Hutt has chosen the oldest, most decrepit speeder in his hanger to make the
perilous journey across planet to Mos Banely. And as Jan viewed the heap of junk he could almost feel a smile
cross his face. One of Jabba's many mechanics who was standing beside him
frowned. "What's the joke Lomona? You'll be lucky if this thing gets you to
the end of the hanger bay, let alone the other side of the planet." Jan
shrugged and smiled again. "I know that. It's just that I promised my fiancée I'd
take her somewhere special for our anniversary this year. I don't think Mos Banely is quite what she
had in mind." The
mechanic nodded and wiped his hands on an oily rag. He checked left and right, making certain there were no other
people near and leaned in close to Lomona. "Well, seen as it's your anniversary
and all, I'll make sure the power plant don't give you any trouble. One hopeless romantic to another." Jan
winked at the speeder master and grinned. "When I get back we'll eat out at
Chalmun's. Bring your wife, we'll make a foursome. Bantha steaks are on
me." Breltz
The mechanic smiled sadly. "I'll hold you to that, but it'll be
a threesome I'm afraid. I lost my
beautiful Y'rudar two years ago." Jan's
face dropped. "Breltz, I'm sorry pal. I didn't know- " "It's okay Lomona." He took a deep breath. "She was one of Jabba’s dancers,
which she didn't mind. But she
refused to be his plaything, which he did
mind. And because beautiful Twi'lek
girls are easy for Hutt's to come by he banished her from the palace in the
dead of night. No food, no clothing,
no weapons. Naked as the day she was
born and just as defenceless. There
was nothing I could do. Us greasers down here aren't supposed to even see the
dancers, let alone fall in love with them." He sighed. "I
doubt she even saw the light of the suns rise." Jan
looked down at his shoes and glanced at Breltz, who wiped away at his
eyes. Jan patted him on the shoulder. "Well then, we'll just have to have
the best meal we can in her memory.
How does that sound?" "Kind and generous Captain." Jan
checked his chrono. "I'd better get back to the Sunrise and tell Frans. She'll be wondering where I've got
to." He nodded at Breltz and
moved to exit the hangar.
"Thanks for the help." "Not a problem. Just keep my goodwill gesture to yourself,
okay?" "Morning Aurran old buddy." "Master Lomona." Drawled the antiquated droid slowly as Jan
walked up the ramp and entered the ship, closing the ramp and blast door
behind him. "Mistress Latka is
in the shower. She should be out
momentarily." Jan
raised his eyebrows and shrugged off his jacket. "I shouldn't think so. Frans?" Jan shouted, moving down the spine of the Sunrise towards the cabins and the shower area. "Jan? Just a second, I'm almost finished." "Don't rush honey. It might be the last shower you get for a
while." "What do you mean?" There was a dangerous pause. Jan chewed his lip as he waited at the
door. "We are going to the Luronsa System?
Aren't we?" Frans said it
with a stab of accusation, which revealed that she knew they weren't going on their intended
vacation to the holiday planet. Jan
sucked in a breath and tried the door.
It was unlocked, so he entered.
Steam plumed around him as he closed the door to and leaned against
the wall. He could make out the naked
silhouette of his fiancée behind the frosted divide and grinned. Never
had to tell me twice to shower when I was a kid. And you still don't. "So Lomona. Trying to sneak your way around me again,
huh?" "Something like that." "So, what is it? A job you simply couldn't resist? Or you double-crossed someone and they've
found out? Or you decided that a
vacation on a beach was too much like fun and you've found something better
to do?" Jan
rubbed his eyes and kicked off his boots. "I always said you were
perceptive. Jabba found out about
that scam me and Boba Dallagra pulled." Frans
gasped and leaned around the edge of the divide. "You're kidding. How did he take it?" "Pretty much like I expected him
to. Made me squirm, grovel a
little. You know, I almost convinced him that I didn't do
it. That would have been cool." "So what happens now?" Frans returned to the hot shower and began
to ease conditioner into her fiery red locks. Jan silently undid his Blaster belt and trouser buckle and
slipped out of them. "Now I've got to deliver a cargo
across planet to Mos Banely." "Is that all? I thought Jabba made you squirm and beg
and grovel?" Jan
pulled his shirt off and tossed away his socks. "He did…when he told me that I had
to make the trip in a battered old Landspeeder." Frans
gasped and turned to look at Lomona again just as he was entering the shower
unit. She smiled widely and pushed
against his chest, heaving him back out of the hot shower. "No way flyboy. No shared showers until you get me to a
beach on Luronsa IV." "Come on woman. I've found you hot running water on
Tatooine. Show me a moisture framer who can do that." Frans
looked her fiancé up and down and grinned again. She grasped his hand and pulled him into the water. "Shut up and grab the sponge." "Decisions, decisions." Satisfied
that the Berone Sunrise was safely
secured and protected Jan booted the accelerator on the Landspeeder and swung
it towards the palace's main cargo hanger.
Beside him Frans flicked her red hair out of her face and adjusted the
goggles she was wearing to protect her from the fierce twin suns of Tattoo I
and Tattoo II. Afternoons on the
desert planet could be scorching hot and uncomfortable, and both A-desandians
decided to cover up well for their journey.
It
was a long trip to Mos Banely, Jan estimated that it would take roughly three
days to complete the trip. They would
have to travel through perilous terrain, regions of desert roamed by herds of
Banthas, prowled by Krayt Dragons and other native species. Tusken Raiders would be a constant threat,
as would scavenging Jawas, if they were to have an accident. And other, unknown dangers lay in the
silent sands of Tatooine. People
wisely chose to avoid the depths of the Dune Sea, and for good reason. Tatooine, despite appearances to the
contrary, was no day at the beach. The
speeder swung into the bay and Jan killed the engine. Sitting on the floor were three containers
of cargo, packed full with DL-8, an illegal narcotic that was punishable by
death on certain worlds. Lomona
regularly transported the spice, his own strangely adjusted sense of morality
allowing him the luxury, but the thought of taking a mere three cases across
the planet filled him with dread. Oh well, plenty of time to top up the tan. He
lifted the third case into the back of the speeder and patted it on the lid. "Ready to go sweetheart?" "Whenever you are dear." Replied Frans archly. "I was talking to the speeder." "Glad to see you’ve got your
priorities straight. Let's go." Jan
hopped into the seat and revved the engine.
He waved at Breltz who was fixing a Gonk Droid near the entrance and
swung away down the dusty track towards the vast desert sands. And
from a high tower window Bib Fortuna watched as the speeder veered away and
accelerated towards the other side of the planet. He turned and faced his silent companion who stood in black
armour behind him. "Give them a head start. Then do what you will." The
armoured man nodded. "Never let it be said that Queed
does anything less than a perfect job." The
first day passed without incident.
Jan steered the speeder through canyonous terrain and out onto a vast
sea of sand. Frans had initially
stripped down to her crop vest, but as the temperatures rose she began to
cover up and by high noon they had decided to find shelter from the intense
glare of the twin suns. Jan waited
for the engine block to cool before checking it out while Frans kept
watch. Despite the white-hot gaze of
the suns she knew as well as anyone that danger on Tatooine could come from
the day as well as the night. The
break lasted until 14.00 hours and Jan booted the speeder back towards their
destination. And much of the day
passed like that. Breaks for food and
drinks, applying lotions and re-checking their route. By the time that night finally fell and
the twin suns last light glimmered on the wide horizon Jan was satisfied that
they had covered roughly 1500 kilometres.
Not bad going, he thought.
For an old bucket like this. “Where do you want to put the
canopy?” Frans asked, as Jan looked
straight down the barrel of his Custom Heavy Blaster, blowing sand out of the
gun with a thoughtful look on his face.
He smiled and put the weapon away. “Anywhere you like, as long as we’re out
of sight. How about over the engine
block?” Frans
nodded. Days on Tatooine could melt
plastisteel, but the nights could freeze the fight out of a Wampa. Already they had zipped their jackets up,
and once the security of their small power-fire had been turned off they
would really feel the chill. She
flung the camouflage cover over the speeder and secured it to the jutting
rocks that sprouted from the cliff face they had parked beside. Jan had scouted the area for almost an
hour, finding the most secure spot.
Well, it appeared secure to him, and appearances were half of
what made Jan Lomona’s life worthwhile.
He smiled at Frans as she leaned over to pick up her half-eaten plate
of food and admired her figure as he sat beside her. She took a mouthful and frowned quizzically. “What is it Lomona?” Jan
grinned and stole a piece of fruit from her plate. “Nothing. Just you.” “What about me?” She raised an arched eyebrow. “Don’t like what you see anymore?” Jan
shrugged his shoulders in a coy manner and chewed on his food. “Well…you are pushing thirty. I mean, come on. If you don’t start to develop some good looks soon…” Jan
left the line hanging as he waited for the expected punch in the ribs to
arrive, which it did, and with a lot more force than he expected. As he slipped off his perch he grabbed
Frans and pulled her to the floor, rolling over to hold her down and grinning
all over his face. “Now you’ve done it, Latka.” Frans
wriggled under his weight for a few seconds but couldn’t resist the urge to smile
and gave up her futile attempts at freedom. “Done what, Lomona?” “Made me angry.” She
raised the eyebrow once again. “Angry?
I thought this position made you feel horny?” Jan
shook his head as he leaned in for a kiss. “Naw, I’m too turned on to feel horny.” As he
pressed his lips to hers the rock above his head exploded in a violent
splintering of shards and they rolled apart, reaching for their Blasters and
taking cover behind the Landspeeder.
Jan glanced at his fiancé, and she nodded that she was okay. Another explosion fractured the rock
beside them and Jan skipped to his feet and dodged around the edge of the
speeder. “What do you want?” He yelled out into the dense
darkness. No reply, just the echo of
the attack. He checked his Blaster
was ready for action and said his favourite prayer to his favourite deity. `I’m in it for the money. I’m in it
for the money.’ Without another seconds
thought he rolled out of cover and opened fire, Frans following suit in a
well-rehearsed manoeuvre. Their first
two assailants, who had been attacking them with spears and stones, hit the
deck without a sound, the stinging blasts of the stun shots knocking them
into unconsciousness immediately. The
next row of attackers moved forward into Jan’s line of fire and followed the
example of their predecessors, hitting the sandy floor without so much as a
yelp. Completing their move the two
smugglers rolled to their feet and dispatched another three attackers, leaving
just three other silhouetted figures in the darkness. Jan motioned for them to drop their
weapons, which they did with haste.
Frans exchanged glances with her fiancé as he moved towards them. He stopped, getting a better view of the
three. “What the hell was that all about? We’re setting up camp for the night, not
stealing a vaporator.” The
lead character stepped forward, its features covered by a swathe of bandages
and rags, much like a Tusken Raider but without the metal breathing
pipes. Lomona waited for the
coverings to be removed and stared into the sad face of a young Arcona
male. His two fellows followed suit,
revealing a human and a Twi’lek female.
Jan raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I didn’t expect to meet anyone out here
apart from Sandpeople and Jawas. What
are you doing living in the desert?” The
female spoke up. “We haven’t always lived here. For years I worked as a pilot, carrying
cargoes and deliveries for Jabba the Hutt.” “As did I.” Spoke the Arcona. “I
was one of his most valued employees, until the day I accidentally pranged
his skiff.” He glanced at the desert
floor. “That was the day I was forced
to leave the palace and live alone in the desert.” Jan
shook his head in disbelief, looking towards Frans who had holstered her
Blaster and was moving beside him. “You’re telling me that you guys all used
to work for the Hutt, and now you’ve ended up out here? Doing what?” “Surviving.” Said the Twi’lek female, stepping forward to join her two
friends. “Living off the land.” “Living off what? Chav and sand does not a good meal make.” “Believe us, we know. But there is sustenance here, if you know
where to look for it. And if you are
willing to share it.” Jan
narrowed his eyes and put away his own Blaster as around him he heard the
groans of the others begin to awaken from their stun blasts. He took Frans’ hand and nodded towards the
Twi’lek. “So what’s your story lady? Why are you here?” She lowered her eyes and
nervously rubbed the back of her neck, sliding her blue hand beneath her sleek
lekku. “I was a dancer. I refused to dance for Jabba in the way
that he wanted, and since Jabba accepts nothing less than what he wants I was
banished.” She allowed her words to
hang in the air for a moment, before lifting her eyes to Jan. “I’m sorry. This is Vlarnd, she is Jennu Koirl and I am – “ “Y’rudar.” Finished Jan. The
Twi’lek almost fell over in surprise as he spoke her name and she took the
arm of Vlarnd the Arcona. Vlarnd
spoke. “How do you know her name?” He squinted and moved to a more aggressive
stance. “Have you been sent here to
spy on us?” “No,” Interjected Frans quickly. “It’s just that…” She paused and glanced
at Jan who imperceptibly shook his head.
“…you still have a friend at the palace who speaks of you.” “I do?” Y’rudar asked expectantly, but
Vlarnd squeezed her hand and shook his head at her. “No.
Don’t raise your hopes. We’ve
been through this before. Our life is
of the sand now, nothing more.” He
nodded to their companions as they rejoined them. “The desert is our home.” Y’rudar
glanced sadly at the floor and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “You are right. That time has passed.”
She looked at Jan who had taken Frans’ hand. “Jabba’s Palace is in the past.” “Well that’s a shame, but if it’s what
you want…” “It is Jan.” Interceded Frans as she squeezed his hand. He glanced down at her and nodded. Everyone has secrets and regrets from
their past. Gods know I do. But the only way to cope with today is to
forget about yesterday and let tomorrow take care of itself. “So, are you guys gonna let us camp here tonight or are we
gonna have to continue our firefight until the morning?” Vlarnd
smiled, his strangely shaped Arconan head tilting at an amused angle as he
opened his arms. “No.
Our hospitality envelops you.
What is ours is yours.” Jan
surveyed the area of broken rocks and sand. “Gee.
Your generosity knows no bounds.” The ManTrap
swung menacingly over the high dune and hovered, waiting for the signal to
re-establish itself. Sand spewing
everywhere, the powerful vessel paused and angled towards the desert dunes
far in the distance. ManTraps
target had been acquired. Inside,
Queed checked his instrumentation and adjusted his course. Heading out into the Dune Sea at night was
always a risky action, but the slobbering Jabba the Hutt was paying well this
time and Queed was never one to turn his nose up at a job offered by any of
the influential Hutt clans. Easing
back into his seat he grabbed at the data pad next to him and began to work
away. Quite why Jabba wanted Lomona
hunted down, after sending him out into the desert in a battered old speeder
was puzzling the bounty hunter. But
who am I to question the wisdom of the Hutt’s? If the cheque doesn’t bounce then it’s a no-brainer. Do what is asked and nothing more. Queed powered the ship
forward, blasting sand from the top of the desert and disturbing the life
that lay there in the darkening skies, but he was unconcerned. Lomona was out there, somewhere. He knew better than to trust the map that
Fortuna had given him. Lomona
wouldn’t follow a map if it were a straight line through the five fire rings
of Fornax. And that was a small part
of why the A-desandian had become one of the more successful operators in the
Mid-Rim. Successful enough to
occasionally venture out here to the Outer Rim and the criminal haven of
Tatooine. A smart man. But
not smart enough to know when not to double-cross Jabba the Hutt. The
final sliver of the final sun vanished beneath the horizon as the ManTrap
forged onwards. Where Lomona lay,
Queed was not sure but the smuggler was far enough ahead that Queed was
confident he was pitched in darkness already, and that the twin suns had
already set on his day. Queed smiled. I
always hunt better in the night. “What time is it?” “03.50.
Why? Can’t get to sleep?” Jan
shook his head and sat up, the therma-blanket slipping off him and away from
Frans. She snatched her hand out and
grabbed it, pulling it around her shoulders and growling beneath her breath. “I have every sympathy in the world for
insomniacs, but it’s freezing out here.
If you’re going to sit up then sit up somewhere else.” Jan
ruffled her hair roughly and slid out of the canopy-covered speeder. He swung his coat about his shoulders and
walked the small distance to the edge of the covered area. Above, the stars shone as brightly as any
stars he had ever seen. For such a
dangerous world it sure has a gorgeous sky.
Proves that there’s beauty in everything. One
particular star caught his attention, and he watched it closely as it grew
brighter. Jan stuffed his hands into
his pockets as he realised that it was a transport, travelling high over the
desert and away from his small gathering.
He could see the distant silhouette of Vlarnd stand watch, keeping his
keen eyes alert for attack from Tatooine’s indigenous predators…or worse. Jan
could respect that. He lived a life
where it was often wise to have one eye constantly trained over your
shoulder. If he could he would have
just walked away from the life of a smuggler, a free trader, but he
knew himself better than that. This
was the life he had chosen for himself years ago back in Ecaps City. Jan knew that he could never follow in the
footsteps of his father, or most of his Imperial-sympathetic relatives,
cousins, uncles, aunts. Or his late
brother, Imperial Star Destroyer Captain Hijjin Lomona. Guilt still gnawed at the edges of his
mind over the death of his elder brother, at his own hands on a plot of
wasteland on the planet Agubia. But
it wasn’t guilt at the manner of his brothers’ death. Hijjin was a bigger man than he was and
Jan believed that he had every intention of killing him. No, it was the way that Jan had allowed
himself to even fall into the situation in the first place. He had always made the point of putting
himself and Frans first, and leaving A-desando and her spiteful denizens a
distant second. Why he had let himself
get embroiled in domestic matters again…he sighed and kicked at a patch of
sand as the transport swung about in the sky. That’s strange. It almost looks like…
He
barely had time to shout the warning before the first barrage of laser fire
rained down upon them, strafing the ground and echoing around the cliff face
like a wild animal scream. Jan could
feel the intense heat of the blast as it seared past him, and he saw two of
the desert dwellers hit the ground hard as he ran in a crouch towards Frans
and the speeder. The canopy had been
swept away and his fiancée of two years had rolled out and beneath the
speeder, along with Y’rudar. Jan
snatched his blaster from its holster and held Frans by the shoulder. “You okay honey?” “Never better.” She smiled at her towering lover. “How come trouble follows you like a bad smell?” “Because life stinks.” He checked the path of the incoming
vessel. “Stay here. This is going to get messy.” Frans
pulled Jan towards her and kissed him fiercely on the lips. As she withdrew she eyed him keenly. “Don’t get killed.” “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Jan
remained in a crouch as he made his way to the cliff face and edged along
until he was in view of the clearing and the vessel landing in the
desert. He squinted in the darkness,
struggling to make out the ship and its owner, but all he could see was the
Arconan head of Vlarnd and another desert dweller as they made their way
towards the rear of the ship, silently planning to lay an ambush. The
ramp slowly lowered, steam hissing as the hydraulic valves pumped the heavy
ramp to the sandy surface. Lomona
trained his weapon on the opening, alert for the appearance of the ships
occupant as it emerged. But
no one came. “Looking for someone Lomona?” Jan
froze as he felt the nuzzle of a cold blaster rifle dig into his bare neck,
the barrel still warm from discharge.
Now he knew what had attacked them – not the ship itself, but its
occupant who must have been riding shotgun on the exterior of the ship so’s
to affect a stealthy landing. Hats
off to the surprise guest. Must be
the silent type. “Queed.” Jan named his
assailant without turning around, the hazy shape of the ManTrap
becoming clear as his eyes became accustomed to the dark. He lowered his blaster to the floor. “What brings a barve like you out into a
desert like this?” Queed’s
breather wheezed a tinny laugh as the bounty hunter backed up, allowing Jan
to turn and face him. Lomona could
see that Queed was indeed packing a blaster rile, and a heavy duty one at
that. “Just business as usual, nothing
more. As a matter of fact, I was
planning on an extended break. Until
I was offered this job hunting you down.” Jan
smiled an easy smile and opened his palms. “Well that couldn’t have been too taxing,
could it? What did you do, bug my speeder?” “Amongst other things. Not that I’d have needed it. You have a habit of making your path easy
to follow.” It
was a lie, and both men knew it.
Lomona would walk round the block just to ask his next-door-neighbour
for a cup of sugar. But Jan expected
the usual banter from Queed, and Queed would supply nothing less. It was a well-worn routine that served
hunter and prey the galaxy over. “So, what’s the deal? Blast me here and take the carcass? Or ferry me back to Jabba and give the
Rancor a midnight snack?” Queed
laughed again as he tightened his grip on the blaster rifle. “I haven’t decided yet. My orders were quite vague. But in either case I suggest you – “ He
never got to finish his sentence as the combined weight of Frans, Vlarnd and
Y’rudar dropped on him from a three-meter ledge, crashing him to the floor in
a heap and kicking to pin him down.
Jan moved to join in when he saw the rifle’s barrel swing out of the
melee towards him. He dodged to his
left as the shot erupted from the nozzle and crashed against the speeders
bonnet, ricocheting back towards the group.
He could feel his life slip into a low gear and slow to a crawl as the
blast whipped right back past him and into the tangle of arms and legs that
struggled on the floor. Frans took
the blast in the left shoulder, and the force of the impact threw her off the
dusty patch and into the air, landing in a heap against the cliff. “Frans!” Jan yelled, hurdling over the three entangled bodies and to his
lover who lay dazed. “Frans, are you
alright? Can you hear me?” She
focused hazily on his face as he held hers in his hands. “…I’m fine, just a bit sore.” She motioned to Queed and the two desert
dwellers that were still battling.
“Help them. I think they’re
gong to need it.” She was right. Queed had succeeded in shoving the lithe
Twi’lek off him and was bearing down on the Arcona, who had hurt himself
whilst leaping from the ledge. As
Queed brought his weapon to bear Jan piled in, aiming a hefty kick at Queeds
chest plate and breathing attachments.
The bounty hunter immediately dropped his rifle and clutched his
chest, the wheezing of the compressor rasping in an irregular manner. Before either Jan or Vlarnd could respond,
Queed dropped to the floor in a heap and kicked as he struggled for breath.. The towering A-desandian
smiled and dusted his hands off on his jeans as he moved towards the speeder
to find the hidden homing beacon that was secreted somewhere within. He motioned towards Queed who lay on the
floor, squirming for breath from his battered breathing apparatus. “Take care of him. Make sure he’s well enough to lift
off.” Jan smiled wickedly as he
winked at Vlarnd. “That wasn’t so
hard now, was it?” Vlarnd
tried to smile, but the effort held no reward. “Are you sure that you are well enough to
continue your journey?” Vlarnd
seemed genuinely concerned as Frans eased slowly and gingerly into the
speeder as the first light of the twin suns cast its light on another
Tatooine day. Jan held her arm as she
made herself comfortable in the passengers seat. Y’rudar handed the last of their supplies to Frans and she
smiled weakly as Jan gunned the engine.
Dust plumed from the rear of the speeder, sprinkling down on the
group. Jan nodded. “We’ll be fine. It’s only another day’s travel to Mos Banely. Once we’re there then we can drop off the
supplies, get patched up and begin our trip back.” Y’rudar
moved forward and cocked her head, staring at Lomona in confusion. “I don’t understand. You said that Jabba hired Queed to hunt
you down?” “That’s right.” “Then why would you return to his desert
fortress? Surely he’ll have you
killed.” Jan
winked to the young and beautiful Twi’lek desert dweller as he released the
air brake and edged the speeder towards the clearing and the rest of the trip
to Mos Banely. “If Jabba wanted me dead in the Palace
I’d have never made it to this speeder.
Queed coming after me was as much about Jabba wanting some interesting
sport as it was wanting me dead. You
know the way he plays his game - if they don’t go the way he wants then he
has a habit of destroying the toys.” Y’rudar
glanced at her companions who all nodded sagely. Jan continued. “Well, if I didn’t return to the Palace
then this hunt would continue. It
would never end. This way, I
dictate the terms of the game. And in
the process show Jabba that I’ve got the nerve to work for him again.” Vlarnd
took Y’rudars arm as the speeder moved towards the desert. Jan glanced over his shoulder, as he
turned right into the clearing. “Don’t forget. Be one klick from the Palace entrance in two days time.” Vlarnd
nodded, but a look of confusion reigned across his face. “We shall, but I still fail to see what
purpose it will serve.” Jan
Lomona shouted an answer as the speeder roared away into the desert but
neither Vlarnd nor Y’rudar could make it out. The
two days passed without incident. Jan
and Frans made the small supply base of the Hutt gangster in good time, to
the obvious surprise of the guards who waited there. Jan smiled beneath his outward scowl. He knew full well that they expected no
delivery from the A-desandian and his woman.
With Queed on his tail, on anybodies tail, the odds of survival
were limited at best. The fact that
he had aimed a lucky kick at a vital part of his breathing apparatus…pure
good fortune. Jan knew his
limitations, and fighting ruthless bounty hunters employed by Jabba the Hutt
was one of them. And still
lady luck travelled with him. A
trip to the local physician was their next port of call, and after Frans had
a session in a regenerative tank that used a derivative of Bacta fluid, they
were ready to reconvene their trip back to Jabba’s Palace and the Berone
Sunrise. Jan smiled at Frans as
they left the township of Mos Banely behind in the distance, the mid morning
suns rising to their apogee and preparing their blast furnace assault on the
barren Tatooine landscape. “Do you still think that a vacation on
Luronsa IV would have been better than this?” Frans rubbed her shoulder and
pulled her sun-goggles over her eyes, lancing Jan with a world-weary
glare. Jan raised his eyebrows in
amusement as they once again left civilisation behind and sped back towards
the filth and slime of Jabba’s Palace. “Jan, you know I love you…but I don’t
want to hear another word out of you until you buy me my first Duarga
on Vlesset Beach. You got that?” Vlesset
Beach, Luronsa IV…the thong capital of the sector. Jan couldn’t help but
smirk. “Yes Miss.” Jan
replied smartly. With
a yelp and a howl the grate opened beneath the feet of the Quarren who had
relayed the information to Jabba the Hutt.
In any other circumstance the slobbering Hutt would have been well
pleased, and given that the Quarren was uninformed as to the nature of the
news he was giving, the yelp was one of surprise and the howl one of anguish
as he realised, with a thud, that the Rancor hadn’t been locked away as usual
and that he had rolled right across its back and onto the floor among a heap
of decaying flesh and bones. He
scurried to his feet and made the short run to the exit, or what he hoped was
the exit. Rattling the iron grated
doors he pleaded with the two guards who were quietly playing Sabacc around a
small table. But scream as he might,
they ignored his pleas. Until the
huge Rancor turned and bore down on the Quarren, snatching him around the
waist and applying pressure. The
Quarren gripped as tight as he could to the door, the pressure bringing blood
to his palms, but the Rancor eased him away as one might pop a clam from a
coral reef. The Quarrens mouth
tentacles wriggled in fear as slowly he was brought towards the slavering
mouth of the Rancor and with a chilling mechanical efficiency was stuffed
head first into its mouth. With a
snap his backbone was broken and the Quarren expired almost immediately. Above,
the court howled its contentment.
Jabba’s dais slowly crawled back towards the alcove where it usually
stood and he eyed the room, waiting for the raucous noise to abate. As
the final cheers died out two Gammorrean guards clanged their heavy
vibro-axes together, a sure sign that someone was about to enter the throne
room of the powerful Hutt without permission. Jabba waited for his major domo Bib Fortuna to take care of the
intruder. Although
he already knew who it was. Jan
Lomona entered the throne room with an easy gait. He stood directly before his employer, his face sandblasted and
golden brown from the twin suns, and bowed deeply. Frans followed, three steps behind him and waited beside
Fortuna. Jabba lowered one eyebrow
and shifted on his dais. “So Captain Lomona. You have returned. How was your trip.” It wasn’t a question – what little Jabba
the Hutt didn’t know about affairs on Tatooine wasn’t worth knowing. Jan slowly shook his head and folded his
arms, all the while very aware that he was standing on the very grate where
many of the Hutt’s less fortunate employees had stood…and plummeted. “The trip was fine, your excellence.” “Without incident I take it?” Jabba pressed. “What could possibly go wrong out in the
Dune Sea?” Jan let the sentence hang. “What indeed.” Jabba eyed Lomona even more closely before turning his gaze
upon Frans. “Captain, your companion appears to be
injured. I hope nothing untoward
happened?” Jan
smiled and bowed again, a gesture laced with sarcasm that the Hutt couldn’t
fail to register. “Thanks for the concern Jabba.” He glanced at his fiancée and smiled. “”We had a minor problem with some of the
natives, but nothing that a well-placed boot couldn’t handle.” Jabba
began to laugh, a bass rumble that gradually rose in pitch. “Captain…I have little time for liars and
cheats. Usually I would despatch of
your worthless carcass and take your woman as one of my dancers.” He eyed Frans closely again and she had
the creeping suspicion that she may very well end up at the mercy of the Hutt
after all. “But you performed the
task I set out for you. My operatives
have told me that the spice was delivered on time and undamaged.” “Did you expect anything less? You know how I hate to disappoint my
clients.” Jabba’s
smile dropped from his face like a sudden thunderstorm and Lomona felt the
atmosphere change like a barometer.
The Hutt leaned forward and spoke in a hushed voice. “I’m a creature of business. What’s good for my assets is good for
me. You, Captain Lomona, are
an asset. An asset of mine. Clients are for those in control.” He nodded towards the floor beneath Jan’s
feet. “You are far from being in
control.” Jan
Lomona kept his poker face turned front and nodded solemnly. Think what you like you fat slug. I’m under contract to nobody. But if that’s what you want to believe… “My apologies. It was
a bad choice of words.” He looked at
Frans again, who was now pressed flat against the wall. “With your permission…” “Go.”
Jabba waved Jan from his sight and turned to take a small wriggling
creature from an oval bowl next to him as Bib Fortuna made his exit from the
court. “But remember,” Jan and Frans
paused as they took each other’s hand to leave the palace. “The next time you disappoint me will be
the last time.” Jan
Lomona squeezed Frans’ hand and nodded to the Hutt. “As ever, it’s a genuine pleasure.” Bib Fortuna entered the small
grease-covered room and acknowledged the shadowed figure standing by the slit
of a window, staring at the suns. The
tall Twi’lek waited for Queed to turn and give him his due attention, which
he did a second later. Fortuna smiled
his sharp-toothed grin. “Lomona has returned.” Queed
nodded slowly. “I know, I saw the speeder arrive.” “Jabba has spoken to him. He berated him but nothing more” Fortuna
shook his head in thought. “You were
hired to do a specific job. Your name
comes highly recommended, and yet you failed in your mission. Why?” Queed
grimaced beneath his helmet. It was a
question he’d asked himself many times since he’d crawled back up the ramp of
the ManTrap. A question among
many others – like why one of the desert dwellers had performed an emergency
tracheotomy when his damaged breathing pipe failed to re-attach, or why he
was left in the cool shade of his ramp instead of the blistering heat of the
suns. So many questions, which all
came down to one answer. Jan
Lomona was the luckiest son-of-a-bitch in the galaxy. “It was not Lomona’s time.” Bib Fortuna shook his head. “It should have been.
You were being paid enough for it to be.” Queed
turned back towards the window and clenched his fists. I should still be hunting Lomona. I’ve lost my good reputation with the
Hutt’s for one of Jabba’s little games.
I won’t let that happen again.
He looked over his shoulder at the obsequious Twi’lek, who waited
with a slimy smile on his pale face. “I’m not accustomed to failure.” Bib Fortuna smiled as he moved
forward and handed Queed his cred stick. It was empty. “Neither are we.” Epilogue Y’rudar
and Vlarnd waited anxiously behind the massive boulders that marked the
perimeter of the grounds to the Hutt’s palace. They had been there, nervously eyeing the comings and goings of
speeders and swoops for over three hours now, and both were beginning to
wonder whether they were wasting their time in such a dangerous place. Just
as they were about to leave a battered but familiar speeder approached,
pulling off the main speederway away from the palace and parked fifty metres
down the track. Y’rudar nudged Vlarnd
as Jan Lomona, Frans Latka and another figure exited the speeder. She blinked and pushed her lekku behind
her neck, focusing in on the group as they approached their hiding
place. Vlarnd gripped her by the arm
but she shrugged it off as she stood from her hiding place and broke into a
sprint towards the threesome. She’d
known who the third person was going to be, almost before he had exited the
speeder but she didn’t dare hope. But
it was true. “Breltz!” She exclaimed as she flung herself into the arms of her
mechanic lover. They embraced
passionately for a minute as they excitedly whispered to one another while
Jan, Frans and Vlarnd looked on. “I can’t believe it.” Breltz shook his head, the joyous smile
etched into his sun-worn features.
“How did you…?” “There are many of us, scattered
throughout the desert. Vlarnd here
used to operate one of Jabba’s skiffs.
Many others worked for him across the planet.” She smiled a youthful smile. “It’s a hard life, but it’s worth
living. Every minute.” Breltz
thrust out a hand towards Vlarnd and shook it hard. “Looks like I owe you everything.” “You owe me nothing. Y’rudar has taught us much. And if you joined us you could teach us so
much more” Jan
wrapped an arm around Frans and stepped forward. “Well, we’d better leave you guys to it.” He squeezed Frans’ shoulder. “We’ve got to get to Luronsa IV before
sunset.” Breltz
frowned. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Jan
furrowed his brow. “Am I?” “Chalmun’s. Table for three.” Jan
Lomona raised his eyebrows as he remembered his pledge and laughed out loud
as a distant Bantha gave a baleful wail. “Breltz old buddy, I do believe you’re
right. Better call on ahead and make
that a table for five.” Lost in the Dunes of Tatooine
1985/1999/2000 short story by Mark Newbold One year before Episode IV – A New Hope Histories
- Originally written at the same time as Jonathan Hick's short story Lost on Hoth, this was
written during an English lesson at school.
Fifteen years later both stories were rewritten to fit the current
continuity. Lost in the Dunes of Tatooine was one of Mark Newbold's first stories of the new Millennium, and
changed drastically from the original version, where Frans Latka was killed by an attack by Boba Fett. Cast of Characters
Jan Lomona Frans Latka Queed Jabba the Hutt Bib Fortuna Bella Y’rudar Vlarnd |