You, sir, are an idiot.
The voice invaded Beltran’s mind with the same whiny, mocking tone that it always did. A sudden gust of wind wept up from between a set of dunes, flinging particles of sand directly into his eyes. Had Beltran not been wearing goggles, a pair that he had lifted from a merchant’s stall at the nearby outpost a few days earlier, he would have likely been blinded.
“You may not be wrong,” He murmured in response as he trudged along. The Jester always enjoyed coming out at times when Beltran felt unsure about himself. That meant that in the six months since he’d been forced to flee from his homeworld of Lorrd, he’d had nearly daily interactions with this particular facet of his personality and it was beginning to become tiresome. “Still, there’s not much else worth doing on this rock and if I can’t find some way to pay for passage off world, we’re going to be here for a lot longer.”
One might have thought, that on a rough and tumble world like Jakku there would be work for a contract killer like Beltran. But work required payment, and just about everyone on this backwater world was as poor as poor could get.
“Enough. We have to be getting close.”
As he crested what felt like his hundredth dune, he could feel the heat of the sun beating down on him. Underneath his head wrap and desert cloak, both also pilfered from the merchant’s stall, Beltran could feel drops of sweat running down his face. His instinct was to pull off the wrap in hopes of cooling himself even marginally, but that would only ensure that he dehydrated all the quicker.
Reaching downward, he idly felt for the dented canteen that hung from his belt. It seemed strange to him that water, so readily available across most of the known galaxy, was as scarce as the most precious metal here. He’d had no trouble “acquiring” the clothes necessary to make it out here, but water he’d had to actually pay for.
“There,” He muttered to himself as he looked down into the valley that connected the next set of dunes. “Right where the old man said it would be.”
The Jester remained silent and Beltran allowed himself a rare smirk. That figment of his imagination didn’t much like being proven wrong so it was likely that he’d go hide somewhere deep in Beltran’s psyche and sulk for a bit, leaving the Lorrdian with some time to himself; hopefully.
Unslinging his LD-1 Target Blaster Rifle from across his back, he quickly checked the power pack. The charge was full, as it had been since the last time that he’d checked it, but a professional always made sure. He then brought the rifle to the ready position and looked through the scope, hoping to get a better view of the entrance to this Observatory.
He noticed immediately that there was a speeder parked not far away from the passageway. So he wasn’t to be the first one here. In truth, he really hadn’t expected to be. Certainly not since he’d had to more or less spend the last day and a half walking because he hadn’t the money to arrange passage out this far.
As he approached, the Lorrdian scanned his surroundings looking for any signs that this could be a trap. There were no tracks on the ground leading from the speeder to the passage, but with the wind kicking up like it was, Beltran knew that any tracks the speeder’s owner would have made would likely be erased fairly quickly.
Briefly, Beltran considered just stealing the speeder and being on his way. But he quickly decided against it. As nice as it was, selling it would probably be a pain and he had enemies enough as it was. Besides, if what the old man had said was true, there could be salvage inside worth a dozen speeders or more.
With his rifle at the ready, Beltran toggled a small reddish light on his scope and made his way slowly inside…
Edited by Beltran Rarr, 20 December 2017 - 09:40 PM.